#almost picked darcy instead of nick

[stopper-my-heart]

If you had to choose one gif for S1 and one for S2 as your favourites, which would you choose?

First, let me just say,

which I mean just as jokingly as Tao does here. Asking me to choose though!

Second, choosing gifs is such an interesting question because it's not favourite moment or favourite face or favourite scene or favourite...anything else, and I haven't really thought about favourite gifs.

Third, my favourites for any of the things related to Heartstopper shift very frequently, so I'll give the ones that are coming to mind in this instance and it can serve as a snapshot of this particular point in time (because 5 minutes from now it might be different).

So to finally answer the question..

Season 1 gif (from episode 1):

Look at Charlie's sigh and melt at the end there. So adorable.

Season 2 gif (from episode 8):

I continue to wish this were Nick hiding behind the couch instead of Darcy because it would be even funnier, but this gif still brings me joy.

Thanks for asking, Anon!

[svndowning]

while darcy was far from observant in normal situations, he knew farleigh better than he knew himself. it was easy to pick up on the way the other’s body tensed just at the mere sound of his voice. a reminder of the mark that he had left upon the other, the damage he had caused. a knot formed in his throat as silence momentarily loomed over them, half-expecting the taller man to simply tell him to fuck off when it was finally broken. instead, he watched as farleigh carefully pulled a cigarette loose from the case he carried on him. trembling nimble fingers extended outward to take the cigarette, viewing it almost as a sacred offering. “thank you,” his voice still had a raspiness to it that came as a byproduct of crying. “i… yeah, felix nicked my case and lighter off of me earlier.” it was a fib, he hadn’t been thinking to grab either his case or lighter before leaving the guest room. he hadn’t been thinking much in general these days. frustration washed over him as he ran his fingers through his dark curls with his free hand, a look of remorse shining in his eyes as he looked up at the other. “farleigh… about what i said earlier.” there was no easy way of going about this, there was no apology that would make up for the emotional turmoil that he had inflicted upon the other. “i…” tears were beginning to prick his eyes once more. god, he didn’t want to make himself look like the victim in this moment — he was certainly far from it. this was about farleigh. “i didn’t mean any of it… and i know that probably makes it all the more fucked that i even said any of that. but, i was just…” languages were something he keenly studied and yet ironically, he couldn’t string words together to save his life when it counted most. “the things you make me feel, i’ve never felt anything like it before and it fucking scares me. i didn’t want this to be a summer fling and i panicked thinking that’s all you viewed this as. it wasn’t fair but i wanted to hurt you before you hurt me.”

farleigh found himself forgetting to breathe out the toxic smoke that filled his lungs, the worsening of the burning the only thing reminding him that he needed to actually take in fresh air. he hardly allowed it, a waft of smoke leaving his lips, a short intake and outtake of breath, and then another long drag of his cigarette. these things were supposed to kill you, yet he was starting to think that was all a lie -- surely he would have perished by now. he almost wished it. he was never one to view life so bleakly, but he was finding it difficult to want more when all he wanted rejected him. he stiffened at the sound of darcy's voice, stomach immediately turning sour. was he planning on torturing him at this point? his jaw set as he turned to glare at the other, the bright moon glinting on the full waterlines of his eyes. though it was dark, farleigh could tell there the other's face was flushed. had he been crying? whatever for, he thought bitterly. it was a miracle he didn't say anything on the other's appearance as he wordlessly -- though not generously -- plucked a cigarette from his case and held it out to the other. normally, he would have leaned forward and forced the other to light it on his own lit cigarette, but he couldn't bare the thought of being that close right now. he refused to break down once more in front of darcy. instead, he flicked the flame of his lighter. "lost your own?" he asked, voice monotone as he was using the last of his will to keep his attitude at bay. he wanted to lash out like a cornered cobra, actively hurt the other for how much pain he brought darcy. but, doing so would let the other win -- would let darcy know just HOW MUCH he really meant to farleigh.

[topsyturvy-turtely]

ten characters, ten fandoms, ten tags

thanks for the tag @mychem1calbr0mance

valkyrie cain (skulduggery pleasant)

harry watson (bbc sherlock) (lol as if i could decide between sherlock and john)

yelena belova (MCU)

kat edison (bold type)

nick nelson (heartstopper)

jinx (arcane)

lisandra (sumpflochsaga)

katniss everdeen (hunger games)

klaus hargreeves (umbrella academy)

robin buckley (stranger things)

tagging! @forfucksakejohn @helloliriels @astudyin221b @loki-lock @justanobsessedpan @totallysilvergirl @darkkitty1208 @almosttinycowboy @mxster-jocale @gaylilsherlock (no pressure and sorry if i am tagging you guys too often lately)

[writingwitharlo]

In Front of Them

a/n: finally finished!! i'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out, even if it ended up a looot longer; also just tagging @ticklishraspberries @veryblushyswitch @nhasablogg @happyandticklish and @ticklepinions who i think might enjoy

Summary: Sequel to the Not In Front of Them drabble, the gang find out about Nick's ticklish secret...

(Heartstopper; Charlie/Nick, Tara/Darcy, Elle/Tao, Isaac)

2909 words

"Is he still sleeping?"

Hushed voices and dim morning light. The heaviness of sleep still lingered in the air of the spacious living room of the Nelson residence. The grey autumn sky painted the walls in a faint blue hue.

"I mean, it's barely eight," Charlie answered in a hushed voice, checking the time on his phone.

"Yeah, Darce, not everyone wakes up at the crack of dawn like they have coffee pumping through their veins."

Darcy gasped dramatically and pummeled her girlfriend with her stuffed elephant. Charlie had to bury his mouth in the crook of his arm to keep from laughing out loud.

It was nice having the two girls as part of their friend group now. It almost felt like they had been around all along. Plus, Elle finally had someone to discuss all of the topics with that the boys had just been hopeless at the last couple years.

Pillows and blankets and duvets lay, generously scattered, across the floor. Charlie couldn't remember at what point the movie night transitioned to the sleep-over part of the stay.

He initially woke to whimsical music playing over seemingly eternal end credits. Groggy and blearily he hunted down the remote, swallowed by the covers. Once the room fell silent and dark, Charlie shoved the remote behind some pillow and cuddled up to the warm body beside him. Nick briefly stirred awake from being kneed in the thigh. A couple of hushed words were exchanged before the dark enveloped not only their bodies but their minds, once more. A few hours later, the sound of a whispered conversation and giggling drang through to Charlie; although, for all he knew, it might as well had been minutes by how foggy his brain felt. The three girls sat huddled in a circle, each bundled up under their blankets and phones in their hands. Knowing that going back to sleep wasn't going to happen, Charlie sat up, gently smiling back at the girls as they took notice of him. His eyes briefly fell on Nick, making his stomach flutter at the mere sight of him; untidy hair, crumpled tshirt, expression of blissful oblivion. Charlie felt the overwhelming urge to just grab his face and kiss him until they were both breathless, but instead he let the older boy sleep some more; there would be plenty of time for kissing later. He picked up Nick's discarded jumper and pulled it over his own long-sleeve shirt, his scent wrapping around him like one of Nick's hugs, before flipping over onto his stomach and settling down at the foot end of the couch to join the girls. Elle offered to make them all tea and forced Tao awake to keep her company while Isaac volunteered to tag along to help them carry the cups back in a bit. The faintest clatter of ceramic and muffled voices billowed in from the kitchen a few moments later.

"I think that should be a thing though," Darcy spoke, leaning against the base of the couch and hugging her elephant to her chest. "Caffeine infusions. They would change the world."

"Isn't that what coffee already does, though?" Charlie pointed out with a chuckle.

Tara shook her head. "You're not really going to use reason to argue with her, are you?"

Charlie raised his eyebrows as he thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, you're right. My bad."

"Hey!"

"Shh."

"Hey."

Charlie heard the faintest rustle of the duvet beside him as Nick stirred some.

"Did I wake him?" Darcy whispered, placing a hand over her mouth.

Charlie shook his head. "No, I don't think so. He can be a pretty heavy sleeper."

"You sure? What if he's just faking to listen in to our super secret conversation."

"About your genius medical invention?"

Charlie looked at the blonde for a second with a knowing smile. He really shouldn't. Nick had specifically asked him not to, and he should respect that. And would it not be more fun to keep the secret just for a bit longer? But it was true, they would find out sooner or later. And if it was up to Charlie, he definitely preferred sooner.

Slowly, he moved his hand to the socked foot poking out from under the covers. His fingertips grazed against its sole lightly. Anticipating a kick or something worse, he ducked his head, but the only reaction he got was a tiny twitch of the toes.

"Hm," Charlie hummed, retracting his hand again. "He's definitely asleep."

Darcy looked up at him, her mouth ajar. "Charlie Spring, have you been withholding valuable information from us?"

"Oh, no," Tara chuckled.

Charlie bit his lip, looking back and forth between the two girls, then shrugged a little. "Perhaps. He made me promise not to tell any of you. At least not yet. I think he just doesn't want everyone finding out all at once."

Tara snorted. "It's like his coming out all over again."

Darcy was practically bouncing with excitement and Charlie wondered if he should have waited a while longer. "So, how bad is he, then?"

Charlie's face broke out into a grin. "Oh, really bad. You know, I'm quite bad, but he-..." He shook his head, not able to think of the right words. "And sometimes he gets really embarrassed about how easy it is to get a reaction out of him. It's really cute."

"You know you're gonna have to give us a demonstration now, don't you?" Darcy demanded, getting to her knees.

Charlie glanced over his shoulder at the lump beside him. Hearing his giggles sounded like just the thing right about now. "Fine, but you didn't hear anything from me."

Darcy made a motion of locking up her lips and throwing away the key as Charlie pushed himself up.

He turned around, leaned over and placed his hands by either side of Nick's head, hovering over his sleeping form. A trail of gentle, warm kisses started at the temple, passed over the jaw and ended by the soft, sensitive skin below the ear.

A sleepy whine broke through the air.

"It's time to wake up, sleepy head," Charlie mumbled in a low voice.

Already the first lazy giggle broke free. Warm breath, the vibrations of his voice plus soft lips brushing against his skin; Nick's shoulders scrunched up practically on their own accord. "Mh-mh."

Charlie smiled. This was going to be a lot cuter than he had expected. Perhaps he was not going to regret letting his secret slip after all. "No? But how am I supposed to kiss you when you're still sleeping?"

There was a beat of silence as Nick's barely conscious mind tried to work out a solution. His head turned towards Charlie with pursed lips, ready to intercept any incoming kisses.

Charlie snorted and leaned down for a quick peck. "There. Propper kisses are for conscious boys only."

Nick pouted and made the softest whining sound Charlie had ever heard. Charlie leaned down again, seeing Nick's pout fade as the older boy could feel him move closer. But instead of pressing their lips together again, Charlie brushed his fingers against Nick's neck.

With a flail of an arm, which followed a surprised snort, Charlie was knocked over. His fingers were quick to return to their target though and after just a few seconds of squirming and whiny protests, Charlie ended up with Nick's head in his lap.

Still sleepy and uncoordinated, Nick pushed at Charlie's hands, especially whenever they kept creeping down towards his collarbones. Not that they were any more sensitive than the rest of his neck, but it was all his groggy mind could think of to do.

Finally showing mercy, Charlie halted his assault and took ahold of Nick's wrists so he knew he didn't have to fight him anymore, and simply held on.

Nick's eyes fluttered open to a cheery, upside down grin. "Hi," Charlie greeted.

"You're awful." Nick's voice was a little gravelly but held no actual detest.

"Really? Because it seemed like you were enjoying yourself a second ago."

A sheepish blush. "Shut up."

Another grin. "You're cute."

"You're lucky I like you."

Charlie bit his lip to hide his smirk, nodding slowly. "Yeah, about that. Remember what you said to me last night? About not wanting anyone to find out just yet?"

Nick blinked, flying through the events of the previous evening as he tried to place this specific conversation. Before he could reach the answer himself, however, somebody was already climbing onto the couch.

"Well, looks like someone found out, Nelson." Darcy practically threw herself onto the rugby player as his eyes widened with sudden realisation.

"Just remember that you love me," Charlie called out over Nick's giddy pleading, tugging his arms up out of the way as much as he could.

Darcy immediately latched onto Nick's waist, claws of agile musician fingers squeezing away at his lower ribs. It was an intuitive move. She hadn't had any guarantee that it would get any reaction at all, but as someone who took immense joy in tickling others just for the sake of being annoying, Darcy had developed sharp instincts to get practically any desired reaction from her victims.

Nick's head thumped against Charlie's thigh. His hair flopped out of his face from the force of the movement, giving Charlie full access to the scrunched-up-nose-and-dimples-show.

Nick's brain hardly had any time to process his predicament. As much as he was trying to bring his arms down to shield himself, Darcy's fingers kept working away, completely unhindered. His body felt hot and he was sure he was sweating just from the amount he was blushing.

"What's all this then?" Tao asked as the trio returned from the kitchen with several cups of tea.

Tara snickered from her spot beside the couch where she had been sneakily snapping a bunch of pictures with her phone. "Turns out Nick has been keeping secrets."

"Well, that's silly of him," Tao replied with a scoff. He settled down beside the armchair, which was now occupied by Isaac and his book, worried he might receive a kick to the head if he got too close to the couch.

Nick let out a surprised yelp, which was quickly overrun with the previous sound of bubbly laughter. One of Darcy's hands had experimentally pinched at his hip. The sensation made the older boy kick out his leg as he slid lower in Charlie's lap. All it achieved, however, was revealing a significant part of his stomach as his t-shirt bunched up against his back.

"Oh, my god," Nick gasped suddenly, his eyes snapping open wide for a brief moment. A set of manicured nails spidered across the newly exposed skin. Even as he tried sucking his stomach in, sparkly tingles continued to radiate from his very core.

Elle grinned warmly. She felt a new sense of fondness towards the crumbling boy as she dragged her fingers across the quivering muscles.

Oh, how badly Nick wanted to curl up into a ball right now. "Shit- Come on!"

Charlie giggled, watching his boyfriend dissolve more and more with every passing moment. It was hard not to get infected by the giddy excitement radiating from him. Charlie's fingers were now itching to get their own fix.

"I have no idea why you would ever want to keep this a secret from us. Even lesbians could fall for you, seeing you like this."

Too distracted by Darcy's teasing words, Nick didn't even register his own arm coming down and pushing at her advancing hand, which was dangerously close to continuing its treament from below his shirt.

With a boisterous cry, Nick drew everyone's eyes onto him. Nimble fingers had dug into his somewhat unprotected armpit. Immediately his free hand darted upwards, clutching the intruder's wrist.

Charlie grinned at his boyfriend's reaction. He wasn't strong enough to keep Nick's other arm in place, not when going for one of his worst spots, so he let that one go too. It instantly snapped down against his side, successfully trapping Charlie's fingers in place.

Nick's laughter turned from rambunctious to frantic in a matter of seconds. Charlie could feel the heat radiating off the blushing boy, fingers gently wiggling away in the warm hollow. His head tilted to the side thoughtfully and, after a moments consideration, he brought his other hand over to light graze at his neck one more.

That was it. Nick was lost to another wave of lightning sparks shooting through his body. After a splutter and a snort, the room fell silent, his face frozen in a bright, glowing grin. It was agony but he relished every excruciatingly long second of it.

Charlie laughed, watching Nick closely to make sure he caught the moment he started to panic or feel breathless or was no longer enjoying himself. Nick's grip on his wrist became tighter but it never felt like he was trying to push his hand away. "Okay, let's go easy for a sec," Charlie told the other two, unable to repress the chuckle that stumbled out along with the words.

Darcy lightened her touch significantly, lightly swirling her fingers in circular motions up and down his bare sides. Elle backed away at first but only to refocus her devilish nails around Nick's knee. His leg twitched and jerked at the new sensation but it seemed a lot more bearable than his stomach.

Meanwhile, Charlie fully stilled his armpit attack, knowing his fingers already tickled plenty without having to move an inch. The grazing of the neck, however, never slowed.

"You've been suspiciously quiet, Nelson," Darcy spoke first, a teasing smirk gracing her face.

"Gun- Harp, the bom frag... Toren." A jumble of obtuse word fragments came spluttering out of the giggling boy.

Charlie snorted. "I think we've broken him." His voice was dripping with affection.

"Nick Nelson lost for words. That's a first, I think."

"Okay, ten more seconds and we'll stop, ready?" Charlie asked Nick, grinning when the other nodded eagerly. "Alright, Ten..."

Nick's laughter picked up in volume as his nerves were kicked back into overdrive once more.

"Nine..."

His back arched. Dexterous thumbs dug into his hips, massaging circles deep into the muscle tissue.

"Eight..."

Nick shook his head and drummed his heels against the couch. Elle had settled down between his legs and was fanning her nails against his knees, first the one side, then the other, over and over again. She smiled at his reaction but didn't let it deter her.

"Seven..."

Goosebumps shot up Nick's arms. Gasping breaths interrupted the continuous stream of cackles. Charlie had let his hand slide down from his neck, beneath the collar of his shirt and now skittered his fingers across the lightly freckled chest.

"Six..."

"Waitwaitwait."

"For what?"

"I don't- Fuck!"

"Five..."

Nick tried rolling over onto his side for some protection. He quickly realised that there wasn't really anywhere for him to go with three people hovering over him.

"Four..."

"Stop trying to grab my hand, Nelson. You know what you signed- You're kidding, right? Ticklish palms?"

"Three..."

Charlie grinned as Darcy abandon her attack on the rugby player's torso and pried his fist open instead. Flustered pleading picked up very quickly once again.

"Two..."

Nick's head rolled back further in Charlie's lap. Hearty cackles filled the air around them. He never knew the backs of his knees were ticklish. Best to blame it on Elle's deviously pointy nails.

"One..."

The room broke out in excited cheers and clapping the moment the attack ceased.

Nick wrapped his arms around himself, giggles still pouring out gradually as he curled up on his side.

Elle and Darcy high-fived and returned to their previous spots beside the couch, proud of their respective contributions.

It took Nick a while to regain the ability to form words, let alone coherent sentences. "Fuck... You're terrible. All of you."

Charlie snorted, gently playing with the ginger hair. "Well, you did agree to the last- Hey!" A pillow hit him square in the face.

"You're the most terrible."

"Me? Why me?" Charlie picked up the pillow to pummel his boyfriend with, unable to fight the playfulness.

"Because you're an instigator, Charles."

"No, you just make it so easy to tease you, Nicholas."

Elle spoke up from behind her cup of tea. "Your secret would not have lasted much longer anyway."

"Yeah," Tao added nonchalantly. "Next time you might want to reevaluate before you start spilling all your deepest darkest secrets."

Another blush and some under-the-breath grumbles were interrupted by Nellie, the dog, suddenly bolting into the room. She pounced between the scattered pillows before jumping up onto the couch where she attacked Nick will eager licks to the face.

Nick's mum just returned from their morning walk and came to see if anyone would like some breakfast. Nellie, of course, raced to the kitchen at the first mention of the word.

"You're so dead, Spring," Nick whispered as he sat up, unable to generate any sort of resentment in his voice. Instead he kissed the younger boy briefly before disappearing to the kitchen to help his mother.

Charlie clutched one of the pillows tightly to his chest, using it to hide his stupid giddy grin. Four little words and he was ahead weak at the knees. Perhaps this was more than simply being in love with Nick Nelson. But he was ready to find out.

[heartstopperfics]

Royalty (1) Masterlist

A season to fall in love forever (Ao3) - milkovichbitch

Summary: Nick nelson always knew this day would come. The day he would have to start his life for ever. The day his future would be set out in front of him. Nick Nelson was the future king. He had titles to live up to. The ball on his 20th birthday was meant to be the day he found his future wife. What happens when he stumbles into a boy with black curls and blue eyes. The famous fashion designer. The boy throws nick off track. Even worse is the girl he dances with and thinks is his future ends up being the boys sister

and that, isaac, is how i ended up in the prince's bed (Ao3) - avedvins

Summary: Prince Nicholas Nelson has been talking to Charlie Spring over texts for over two weeks, but Charlie has no idea that his Nick is actually the Prince. However, when Nick discovers Charlie in an altercation on the rugby pitch, he feels drawn to intervene, but can he do it without blowing his cover?

and that, tara, is how i got the boy (Ao3) - avedvins

Summary: Charlie Spring has been talking to a mysterious "Nick" with a pug for a profile picture for several months. The pair have confessed requited feelings for each other, but Nick is not ready to take their relationship to the next level by meeting Charlie in person. After mutual friend Tara Jones shares a picture of "Nick"'s pug, Henry, Charlie finally knows why. Charlie's friend, His Royal Highness Prince Nicholas Nelson, and the mysterious "Nick" are the same Nick, but what is Charlie going to do about it?

Food Glorious Food (Ao3) - astralpenguin

Summary: Charlie didn’t think there was anyone who could possibly want the Prince dead. He wasn’t about to argue, though. That would be a very bad idea. Instead, he picked up the smallest piece of bread he could see and took a bite.

love shown through regicide (Ao3) - quillium

Summary: Charlie Spring is a cook’s son, a maid’s brother, and Princess Darcy Olsson’s whipping boy.

Prince Nicholas Nelson is seventeen-almost-eighteen and the prince of the neighbouring kingdom sent over on a diplomacy trip.

Once Upon A December (Ao3) - jac3pup

Summary: Charles Francis Spring is the long-lost prince of the Spring Royal Family Bloodline, the former rulers of England, who has been living in the Spanish Countryside since he was ten.

Nicholas Luke Nelson is the son of Sarah Nelson, the former handmaid of the late Queen Jane Spring, who lived in France after the Great Coup until he moved back to Southern England to fill the role as Assistant Caretaker of Castle Primavera.

What happens when Nick finds signs that someone has broken into the palace one December afternoon? What happens when Nick finds the intruder wandering the halls and decides to just follow them to see why they’re there? What happens when he finally sees the intruders face as they stand next to an old, slightly torn and faded portrait of the royal family and sees the resemblance? What happens when the rival bloodline learns there’s a rumor of a living member of the royal family that may actually be true?

Will Nick and Charlie be able to beat the odds? Will Charlie finally remember his childhood? Will Nick be able to protect Charlie as his enemies come for him, again? Will Charlie take back the kingdom? Or will all be lost except for an old fairy tale that’s told Once Upon A December?

To Wear The Crown (Ao3) - restricted_silence

Summary: Nick Nelson is suddenly made next in line to the throne, but his brother’s reckless action could put the crown on his head. Raised thinking he would never ascend the throne, Nick has to start preparing more seriously while also looking for a potential wife. Thankfully, through this time of stress, Nick has his servant Charlie by his side.

Thus Always To Tyrants (Ao3) - goblinking696

Summary: Nick is the prince of a lovely kingdom and he couldn't help but fall for the boy who recently became his personal servant.

What's It Gonna Be? (Ao3) - gwenstacylvr

Summary: At an elite boarding school just outside of London, Prince Charlie forms an unlikely friendship (and maybe more?) with known rugby player Nick Nelson.

[rmtndew]

All I’ve Ever Known ~ Chapter 2

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn’t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Tag list - @hollydaisy23​, @readings-of-a-cavill-lover​, @onlyhenrys​, @omgkatinka​, @speakerforthedead0-blog​, @gearhead66​

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know! 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Two weeks later, I was back at the police station with my delivery. Nick had gone on and on the week before about how much he’d loved covering for me and that two of the detectives had given him tips. He didn’t say how much they were, but emphasized that they were generous. I’d never been tipped before but I wasn’t jealous that Nick had been. He was good at small talk and being outgoing. That got noticed. And there was no ten or twenty dollar tip that was enticing enough for me to put myself through painfully awkward social interactions that I wasn’t good at. I wanted to do my job and do it well and Darcy didn’t hire me for my conversation skills. That was made quite clear when Officer Bates asked about Nick by name while still calling me Waverly. 

Upstairs in the break room, most of the detectives were waiting for me when I arrived. They moved around me, grabbing their boxes as I placed them on the table. When I was done packing up the dolly, only a single box was left. Out of every person who had claimed their order, only a couple had acknowledged me with a thank you. 

As I was leaving, I caught the wheel of my cart on the door frame. It yanked right out of my hands, falling over. I sighed and bent to pick it up. Before I could, a set of hands beat me to it. I swallowed thickly as my eyes followed the hands (with no wedding band) to their source: Detective Marshall. My mouth felt dry when I tried to speak and I had to clear my throat. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, setting it up straight with one hand like it weighed nothing. He looked at me, his brow raised slightly. “You weren’t here last week.” 

I blinked at him. “I’m sorry?” 

“Someone else delivered for you last week.” 

“Um, yeah. I had to take my mom to a doctor’s appointment. My co-worker Nick covered for me.” 

He nodded. “He talks a lot.”

I laughed. “Yes, he does,” I agreed. “It’s a talent that I don’t possess.” 

He gave me a half smile and my stomach flipped at the sight of it. “Me, either,” he said. “Is your mother okay?” 

“Yeah. It was just a check up with her oncologist. She has to go every few weeks.” 

“Does that mean she’s in remission?” 

“It does, yeah. She’s been clear for a few months now.”

“And you care for her?”

“I do. As much as she’ll let me, anyway. My dad died a couple of years back so she asked me to move in with her. She couldn’t bear to sell the house but she couldn’t handle being alone, either,” I said, then smiled. “She had a friend who offered to move in and pay rent but Mom said she was too noisy. Apparently I make a good housemate because I’m not overly talkative.” 

“My daughter thinks I’m a bad housemate because I’m not talkative enough,” he joked. 

I laughed. “How old is she?”

“Thirteen.” 

“You’re just on the cusp, then. My parents were amazing and they still couldn’t do anything right when I was a teenager. But if your daughter’s biggest complaint is that you’re not talkative enough, that’s pretty good.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and raised his eyebrows. “It’s not her biggest complaint, just one of several.” 

“Well, as long as she feels comfortable enough to voice her problems to you, it’s fixable. It’s when they shut down that’s the problem,” I said, then suddenly felt silly for sharing so much with him. The poor man was just being polite and I was keeping him hostage. He’d come for his lunch - not for my life story. “Um, anyway, I should get back to work. Thank you again for helping me.” 

“No problem.”

“Have a good week.”

“You, too.” 

That Saturday, despite every fiber of my being screaming for me to be somewhere else, I found myself at an overpriced bar with my friends Lena and Demi. Demi had gotten a promotion at her job and wanted us to go out to celebrate. I wanted to back out but they wouldn’t let me, so I tagged along knowing full well that it would be the same as always: I wouldn’t drink, I wouldn’t dance, they would get annoyed at me for being a ‘wet blanket’, then they’d meet some guys and ignore me for the rest of the night, except when they’d tell me how much fun I was missing out on. I knew what I was in for, and yet I still hated it when it happened. 

That particular evening, Lena and Demi zeroed in on two guys while we were still at the bar ordering. They introduced themselves and invited them to sit with us. While the four of them chatted, I sat, listening and watching the clock, counting the minutes until I felt I could call it a night without offending Demi. But despite being the third (fifth?) wheel, I was comfortable being on my own. Unfortunately that comfort was kicked square in the teeth when a friend joined the two guys Demi and Lena were talking to. He was a squirrely looking guy with a severely receding hairline and he was several inches shorter than me. But there was an unspoken rule that if your two friends were talking to someone else’s two friends, you were now obligated to talk to each other. I knew that rule well because I’d spent a good portion of my adult life as the quiet third friend to two far more outgoing women.The only time I’d been excused from the rule was when I’d been dating my ex-boyfriend Ezra.  So while they were chatting up guys they were genuinely interested in, I was usually left taking one for the team. I wondered how often they thought about talking to me in the same terms. 

A lot of the times I was lucky and the guy would carry the whole conversation, talking about himself, and I didn’t have to do much more than nod and pretend to be interested. Every once in a while I’d get a guy who was a bit pushy at the end of the night, practically demanding my phone number, or, on rare occasions, something a little more intimate. I was pretty good at turning them down in a way that didn’t escalate the situation, but there were still those few that slipped through that didn’t know that no meant no. That night, unfortunately, was one of those nights. The guy I’d gotten stuck talking to, Adam, had started out self absorbed but otherwise okay, but I guess he took my quiet nodding and occasional ‘Yeahs’ and ‘Wows’ as extreme interest and as time ticked on, he became more bold. His conversation took on a more...personal tone. That’s when I decided to try to wrap it up. I wasn’t spending time with Demi, she and Lena were both dancing, and I wasn’t going to let some guy make me uncomfortable. But when I tried to end the conversation, he wouldn’t let me. 

“Come on, we’re having fun,” he said. “You don’t have to leave yet.”

“I do, actually. I have to work tomorrow,” I lied.

“You could stay for another hour.”

I shook my head. “No, sorry.” 

I moved to stand up and he put his hand on my leg, holding me still. “I think you can.”

“But I’m not, so move your hand.”

Instead of letting go, he squeezed tighter. “You don’t have to play hard to get, you know? It’s not attractive.”

“And neither are you. Now move your hand.”

He swore, calling me a name, but kept gripping me. I was sure he’d leave a bruise. “You’re not pretty enough to be this difficult.” 

I felt a sudden surge of warmth behind me and could feel the presence of someone standing there.

“She told you to let go, I suggest you listen.”

My head snapped up at the sound of the voice. Detective Marshall was standing behind me. His pretty blue eyes were dark like an angry ocean as he glared at Adam, giving his already stern face a menacing look. 

“Who are you?” Adam asked, too stupid to give up.

“Someone who will gladly break your hand if you don’t move it like she asked.” 

Detective Marshall took a few steps forward, putting himself tight to my side. Adam was going to say something, he had his mouth open ready to do so, but Detective Marshall crossed his arms over his chest and Adam’s eyes went to his belt. His sweater had risen to show off his badge and gun clipped at his waist. The sight was enough to shut Adam up. He didn’t say another word. He let go of my leg and left. 

“Are you alright?” Detective Marshall asked.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

He looked at me, his face softened. “This doesn’t really look like your scene.” 

I shook my head. “It’s not. I’m here with my friends,” I said. His eyes glanced at the empty chairs around me. I nodded to the dance floor. “They’re over there.”

He looked to where Adam was talking to the two friends he’d come with. They were still with Lena and Demi, and were all staring at me. I was sure that Adam was telling them I was a frigid tease, and they were almost definitely confused by Detective Marshall standing next to me like a bodyguard. 

“What about you?” I asked. “You don’t really look like this is your scene, either.”

He looked down at me. “It’s not. I’m working a case. I was asking the manager about the victim.” He looked at my friends again before letting out a breath. “Are you staying here or would you like me to walk you to your car?”

“No, I’m not staying,” I said. “But I didn’t drive. I rode with them. I was going to get an Uber.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to get into a car with a stranger by yourself at night?”

I nodded as I stood. I liked that I had to look up at him slightly. “It’s usually what happens when I let myself get talked into these stupid nights.”

I watched his face. It was like he had a million thoughts running through his mind at once and his eyes shifted, like he was actively trying to sort through them. After a moment he said, “Would you let me drive you instead?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can usually get an Uber here in about ten minutes.” I gave a faint smile. “You could talk to them before I get in, if you want?”

He shook his head and rubbed his neck. “I’d feel a lot better if I knew you got home safely.” 

So much of me wanted to say no. I had a difficult time accepting help from people, even when I clearly needed it, because I hated the thought of being a burden on someone. But if he was there asking about a victim, there was a chance that they’d been at that bar, maybe even disappeared from there, maybe after taking a ride from someone they thought was legit and was later found dead. Maybe he didn’t want another case, especially with a familiar person, and that’s why he was offering me the ride. That’s what I told myself anyway. That was my excuse for wanting to accept his offer. It wasn’t that I was weirdly attracted to how protected he made me feel. 

“Okay,” I relented. 

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Let me tell my friends I’m leaving.” 

I started walking towards Lena and Demi. They’d been watching me ever since Adam had drawn their attention to me. But before I could reach them, they came to me, meeting me halfway. 

“What is going on, Fiona?” Demi demanded. “That guy you were talking to said you were having a good time and then you just started freaking out and making a scene. He said some guy heard you and threatened him if he didn’t leave you alone.” 

I shook my head. “That’s not how it happened. He was making me uncomfortable so I said I was going to leave. He put his hands on me and I told him to let me go. He wouldn’t and yes, someone did step in, but he wouldn’t have if that perv had just let me go.”

“Why do you do this?” Lena asked. “Anytime a guy shows interest in you, you find some reason to run away.”

“That’s not true. And even if it was, that’s not what happened here,” I said. 

“It is true. And I honestly don’t know why we invite you out anymore. You always make things awkward because you don’t know how to function like an adult woman. You’re like some little girl who’s afraid to even let a boy kiss her,” Demi said. “You need to grow up.”

I bit my tongue. I knew that she’d had a few drinks and that she always got catty right before she tipped over to drunk, but just because she was rude didn’t mean that I had to be, too. The evening had taken all the energy from me and I didn’t have the strength to try to be diplomatic. I chose to ignore her completely instead.

“I’m going home,” I finally said. 

“I’m not taking you,” Lena said. “Not right now.” 

“I don’t need you. Someone else is taking me”

Demi rolled her eyes. “Who?”

I looked at Detective Marshall. He was still standing by our table, waiting. “You guys think I need to get out of my comfort zone, so I am.”

“You’re going home with a man you just met? Do you know how dangerous that is?” Lena asked.

“First of all, you two do it all the time,” I said. “And secondly, I’m not going home with him, he’s taking me home.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Demi said.

“I don’t need you to believe me. I just need you to know that I’m leaving. Whoever I go with, or however I get home, doesn’t matter.”

I walked off, feeling angry heat licking my neck and ears. My hands kept clenching tightly, pushing my fingernails into the palms of my hands. Detective Marshall could obviously tell that something was wrong because he tilted his head at me, his brow furrowing with concern.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“I have horrible friends, but other than that, everything’s peachy,” I said dryly. 

He didn’t ask any follow up questions but I think he’d observed enough of the situation to not need to. He just nodded and waved for me to follow him.

The air outside was surprisingly cold and made my angrily flushed skin sting from the contrast. But the feeling worked like a grounding sensation, clearing my mind. I let out a breath and followed Detective Marshall to his truck. He went to the passenger’s side and unlocked it, then opened it for me. 

“Thank you,” I said, climbing in. 

He gave me a smile that somehow read more in his eyes than his mouth before closing the door. 

I took my crossbody purse off, holding it in my lap, before pulling on my seatbelt. I watched as he walked around the front of the truck, unlocking his own door and sliding in beside me. He started his truck with one hand while reaching for his seatbelt with the other. As the truck came to life, the radio came on. A ZZ Top song was playing. 

“Sorry,” he said, turning the volume down but leaving the radio itself on.

I noticed the station and smiled. “This is the same station I listen to in my car.” 

He looked over at me, giving me another one of his eye smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Shouting along to eighties rock music is a pretty good stress reliever.” 

“It doesn’t hurt, that’s for sure.” 

He asked where I lived and even though I was terrible at explaining directions, I finally gave him enough clues for him to piece it together. He said that his ex-wife had lived in the neighborhood just past mine when they were dating and he remembered seeing the sign for it. Once we pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, I took my phone from my purse.

“Do you mind if I make a quick phone call?”

He shook his head. “No, go on.” 

I called Mom but she didn’t answer. I wasn’t worried. She was more than likely watching TV and had her phone in her room again. I decided to leave a message. “Hey Mom, it’s Fi. I was just letting you know that I’m on my way home. You don’t have to call me back when you get this, I’ll just see you when I get there. Love you. Bye.”

I hung up and put the phone away. A few moments passed before Detective Marshall asked, “Is Fi short for something?”

“Yeah. Fiona. When I was a kid my dad used to call me Fi-Fi Bird, then he shortened to Fi when I was a teenager.” 

“When did you lose him?”

“Two years ago. He was hit by a drunk driver.”

“Was your mum ill at the time?”

“No. I mean, she may have had her cancer then but we didn’t know anything about it. They found it at the beginning of the year.” I looked at him. “I’m a little surprised that you remember me telling you about them, to be honest.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve barely spoken and I assume your job is mentaly exhausting, so the fact that you remembered it… I don’t know, I’m just surprised.”

“It is mentally exhausting. But peanut butter cookies help.” He looked at me briefly, giving me a smile that showed his teeth. “And you bring those.”

I laughed and felt my cheeks heat back up, but it wasn’t from anger that time. “And that makes me memorable?” 

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

A few minutes passed quietly, but not uncomfortably, before I stole a glance at him. He really was gorgeous. I had no issues with Demi and Lena thinking that I was leaving with him for reasons other than an innocent ride home. They’d been more than snide about my lack of interest in men since my last boyfriend had broken up with me, never pausing to think that how he’d broken up with me - and more importantly when - had done a lot of damage. 

“I really do appreciate you giving me a ride home,” I said. “I, uh, I don’t have anyone else to call. An Uber would have been my only option.”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” he said. “But next time maybe think about driving your own car. I’m not just against Uber; I’m against any rides that require you to get into a car with a stranger. Particularly women. And particularly at that bar.” He pushed his hair back from his face and let out a frustrated breath. “Their security cameras have been down since May.” He swore under his breath. “Sort of defeats the purpose of security cameras.” 

“Does that stall your investigation?”

“Not necessarily. Other businesses in the area may have footage. It just delays things, at least for tonight.” 

“Can I ask how long you’ve been working on it?” 

“It’ll be two weeks tomorrow.”

“Is that long for a murder investigation?”

He didn’t say anything for a while and I thought I’d gone too far. Just as I was about to apologize he said, “They don’t really have typical timelines. It just depends on the case. Some are like a ripple effect and you just have to start in the center and work your way out.” He paused for a moment, licking his lips. “Others are like a pile of rope tangled up. You have to work your way through, trying to untangle it, but sometimes you’re working on a piece that’s a dead end, then you have to start all over again. Those take a bit longer.”

“And this case, it’s one of the tangled ones?”

He nodded. “Unfortunately.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He glanced at me again quickly, a small smile at the corner of his mouth. “That’s the job.”

Another wave of silence filled the cab of his truck. I liked that he didn’t talk for the sake of it. He seemed to be at ease in the quiet and his ease spilled over to me. That was the only explanation for me being so calm sitting that close to a man as attractive as him and not having a total meltdown. And we were close enough that the body heat radiating off of him kept me from requesting that the actual heater be turned on, despite the chilly night. He was like a human space heater, but I was far from complaining. And I think the fact that he had been so protective of me fed that feeling of comfort. That night, he had stood up for me more than Ezra ever had in three and a half years. 

“I can’t remember if I thanked you earlier at the bar or not when you helped me with that guy, but  thank you for that, too,” I said. “I’m not usually such a damsel in distress, I promise.” 

“It doesn’t make you a damsel just because I stepped in.” We stopped at a red light and he looked at me. “But if it ever happens again, all you have to do is ask them to move their hand once and if they don’t, take one of their fingers and shove it back towards their wrist. Make sure to break it.” 

I smiled slightly. “Detective Marshall, are you giving me permission to assault someone?”

“It’s not assault if you’re protecting yourself, but yes, I’m giving you permission. Men have a hard time convincing police that their advances were wanted when it results in a broken finger,” he said. “And you don’t have to call me Detective, you can just call me Marshall.”

I smiled wider at that. “Well, Marshall,” I said, trying out the more personal feeling name, “I’ll keep that in mind. Although I think I’m done with nights like tonight. I’m too old to keep putting myself in situations that make me uncomfortable. But maybe I needed this to know that my friends and I really have grown apart. And maybe for the better.”

The light turned green and he looked back to the road again. “I take it you had a falling out over you leaving them?” he asked as we started moving. 

“Not really over me leaving. More like why I was leaving.” I sighed. “Their idea of fun is drinking and dancing and flirting, and at one point, I saw the appeal in that, even though I’ve never been as outgoing as them. But when I lost my dad…” I shook my head. “I’m sure you see people in grief all the time with your job. You see how it changes people. How it can create a division. They never understood that. They thought that there should be a grieving period and then I should get over it and go back to being the same old Fiona. But that’s never going to happen.”

“Grief does change people. It’s natural. And sometimes, it never goes away. You have to adapt to deal with it, but it always follows you,” he said. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I guess when you’ve never experienced it, it’s hard to really understand. I didn’t really understand it until my dad passed. And then when Mom got sick…” I trailed off. “Sorry, I told you that I wasn’t a big talker and I just keep going on about myself.” 

“You’re fine. I promise,” he said softly. 

I smiled at him. “Those peanut butter cookies really do buy me a lot of forgiveness, don’t they?”

He laughed. It was a low, beautiful sound. “They are very good.” 

The rest of the ride home was spent in slow, quiet conversation. I tried not to unload anymore of my personal issues on him, even if he said it was okay. I was a little sad when he pulled onto my street, but I directed him to my house and he stopped in front of the driveway, unable to pull in because of mine and my mom’s cars.

He put the truck in park and turned to me. “I’ll watch you in.”

“Okay.” I unbuckled and grabbed my purse from my lap, slipping it back on. I reached for the door handle but before opening it, I looked at him. “I really do appreciate all of this. You have no idea,” I said. “Is there anything I can do to thank you?”

He twisted his mouth to the side, his eyes doing the thing they’d done earlier where it looked like he was actively sorting through his thoughts. After a moment, he nodded, then gave me a smile that made my heart flutter. “There is, actually,” he said. “Next time you deliver lunch, if I’m not there to get mine before you leave, could you bring it to my office again?”

I smiled back. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I could do that,” I said. “If you’re not there, do you want me to leave it on your desk?”

“Please.”

“Okay.” I opened the door and stepped out into the cold air. I already missed the heat of being close to him. “Goodnight Det- Goodnight Marshall.”

“Goodnight Fiona.” 

Never in my life had someone saying my name given me instant butterflies until right then. I gave him a small wave and closed the door. I took my house keys from my purse as I walked to the front door, trying not to think about him watching me. After unlocking the door, I fought not to look back at Marshall one last time and slipped inside, closing and locking the door behind me. As I put the chain lock in place, I let my forehead fall against the door and let out a happy sigh. When I was able to gather myself, I went to find Mom. Just as I expected, she was in the living room watching some sort of Hallmark movie. 

“Hey Mom, I’m home,” I said. 

She turned her head to look at me. “Hey, sweetie. How was it? Did you have fun?”

“Not quite.” I joined her, sitting on the arm of the recliner. “I think things are done between Demi, Lena and me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Some things happened and some things were said and I don’t think there’s any going back.”

She patted my knee. “I’m sorry. I hate that for you.” 

“There was a bright side to the whole night, though,” I said, smiling. 

“And what was that?”

“You know the detective that I told you about, Detective Marshall?” I asked. She nodded. “He was there asking the manager about a case he’s working on and noticed that a guy was bothering me so he stepped in to help me. Then he gave me a ride home.”

She looked at me with big eyes. “You got into a car with someone you don’t know?”

“No, I got into a truck with a cop, who I’d met before,” I said. “Look, Lena refused to take me home. I would have had to call for a ride.”

I could tell she disapproved but didn’t say anything else about it. Instead she asked, “What’s this detective like?”

“He’s a little quiet, gentlemanly, has good taste in music, and extremely not married.”

She finally broke down and smiled. “Well, maybe this is the start of something, then. You deserve to be happy.”

“Maybe but I don’t think he’s interested. He offered me a ride to make sure I got home safely; he wasn’t flirting. I just feel less guilty about being attracted to him now that I know he’s single.”

“Your father and I started off as friends first, too, you know?”

“I wouldn’t say that Marshall and I are friends, Mom,” I said, standing up. “But I’m appreciative of him and his handsome face all the same.”

“Oh, so you call him Marshall now? No ‘Detective’?” she teased. “That seems pretty friendly to me.”

I laughed. “If I ever get on a first name basis with him, I might agree. Until then, he’s just an acquaintance. That’s all.”

“One who doesn’t mind you dropping a very earned title.”

“Well, he found out that you call me Fi-Fi, so he probably thought it was fair to let me call him something a little less formal, too.”

“How did he find that out?”

“Because I called and left you a voicemail letting you know that I was on my way home and he asked what Fi was short for. I told him that Dad used to call me Fi-Fi Bird.”

She tilted her head at me like she finally had her answer. “If you’re talking to him about your father, he’s far more than an acquaintance. You barely talk about him to anyone other than me.”

“He’s...it’s…” I sputtered, trying to find the right explanation. I sighed. “Death isn’t a topic that makes him uncomfortable, like other people. He’s a homicide detective. That’s sort of his business. Bringing Dad up didn’t feel weird.”

She held up her hands, almost defensively. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I think it’s great. I just hope I get to see this handsome Marshall at some point.”

“I’ll talk to Darcy about a Bring Your Mom to Work Day and see if I can’t get you to the station to check him out. And hey, he might not have been flirting with me but you’re a single lady now, maybe you can lock him down. I always wanted a sister and he has a daughter, so it would be kind of perfect.”

She laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Love you, Mom,” I said, walking away.

“Love you, too!”

[foodcourtdetective]

thinking too hard

summary: barry berkman has been trying to forget about his soulmate for both of their sakes, but Y/N is making it very hard and using their soulmate connection to draw all over him.

tags: angsty, soulmate au, love at first sight, very brief Barry x Sally, definitely a happy ending!

A/N: I’m just really into soulmate!au’s and Barry Berkman okay?!?! (and // means time passes)

word count 2.4k

AO3 x

He hated Los Angeles. Barry’s long sleeve shirt stuck to him in the desert heat, sweat pooling in his armpits and on his back. NoHank asked him about his outfit choice, offering him a short-sleeved shirt or a tank top.

“You want to take one of their shirts? They won’t mind, they’re confident in their bodies!” NoHank said, gesturing over to the Chechen recruits. Barry shook his head, clearing his throat in discomfort. After a moment, NoHank made a movement to push up Barry’s sleeves for him, but Barry was too quick and grabbed NoHank’s pinky, bending it all the way back.

“Shit shit, okay okay! Someone has body issues! We will talk about accepting your body some other time then.” Barry ignored him, staring coldly ahead as the young Chechen recruit finally hit a beer can with his bullet.

//

When he finally got back to his apartment, Barry made a beeline for the bathroom, nodding briefly at Jermaine and Nick on his way. After peeling off his shirt and grabbing the sink, Barry took a look at his body or rather what was on it. Today, his soulmate had kept it simple: a heart on his wrist, a note to pick up two lattes at 9, and a flower chain that started at his trigger finger and trailed all the way up his forearm. He sighed, holding back a soft smile as her traced up the stem of flowers with his other pointer fingers. As he ended the journey at his inner forearm, Barry stopped to see a less traditional note: written on his upper chest right over his heart, in simple cursive, it read please talk to me, Barry. A deep sigh filled the tiny bathroom and he gently caressed their handwriting.  The familiar movement triggered a whirl of memories.

Writing excitedly on his leg the moment he turned sixteen to introduce himself to his soulmate only to get no response. Giving up on love and joining the Marines shortly after. Noticing the shy hello scribbled on his hand seven years later when he was already too far gone. Writing to them any chance he got once he find out the silence was because they had not been old enough yet. Learning her name was Y/N and that she lived in California. Having to break off communication once Fuches put him to work. The sharp lines she had drawn as she had asked if he could feel the sharp indent of her pen, told him that ignoring them for their own good was ridiculous. The obscene images Y/N had drawn all over him the first couple of years, trying to get an angry message from him, any message.

His heart sank, but Barry knew as much as it hurt both of them, it was better for them to move on, to pretend to not have a soulmate. God knows Barry would rather hide her away, hide his shot at happiness, than have her be tortured or worse by any of his enemies or allies. He groaned, his knuckles turning whiter than the sink.

//

His acting class didn’t know what to make of him at first; his long, dark clothing sharply contrasted their tight shorts and tank tops, skin flaunting their connections. But despite himself, Barry grew close to Sally, a girl who had never seen any marks on her body. After hearing that Barry also had a blank canvas, she pounced on him with a marker she had seemingly pulled out of nowhere, drawing a star on his knuckles. However, despite her persistence, no matching star appeared on her own. Sally declared them star-crossed soulmates and asked him on a date.

After a late night of drinks, Barry found himself making out with Sally on her couch. She went to pull off his shirt and for the first time in his life, he mindlessly complied, distracted by the intimacy. Sally suddenly shot up from the couch, crying out as she pointed to the drawings adorning his chest. Y/N had seen the star Sally had drawn and, hopeful that it was a message to her, drew out an intricate night sky. Hidden among the stars, scrawled out in cursive, she wrote I’m here when you’re ready, Barry. -Y/N.

“How dare you! You lied just to get into my pants?!” Sally tripped over herself to pick up his discarded shirt, balling it up to chuck at him. Barry pulled it on, dazed all the way home until he saw the message glint in the mirror as he was getting undressed. Barry slammed his fist into the wall, shouting out in frustration. Ass his phone rang, the caller ID revealing it was Fuches, Barry scrambled to put his shirt back on, scribbling a message to Y/N on the fleshy part of his bicep. I’m a hitman. Don’t message me unless you want to die.

//

After the assignment, Barry found himself staring at his chest and reading her pleas to talk further. That’s not funny. Barry. Barry! Oh my god, you’re serious. That explains a few things. You gotta talk to me, your soulmate? I need to know why. Barry sighed, wandering over to his bedroom to get a pen from his desk. He sat on the bed, anxiously fiddling with the pen in between his fingers before writing on his trigger finger: you still want to talk to me? He waits, watching the loopy letters sweep down his arm like a signature under the floral art she continued to draw every day.

Yes, I have a death wish. He laughed at the absurdity of their conversation before responding.

Why are all artists suicidal?

See, I’d rather have this with you than live without it. Her words made him freeze in his tracks, his fingers gently stroking over the confession as they faded away, scrubbed off by the writer. She filled the now empty space with a series of numbers; Barry furrowed his brow, trying to decode the secret message. After a moment Y/N wrote again underneath them.

Running out of space! Text me! He hesitated, his heart in his throat as he debated if the convenience was worth sacrificing her safety. Finally, with shaking hands, he dialed the number and hit call. A soft hello followed the ringing, the voice so angelic that he knew he would do whatever she asked him to do.

“I said text, not call! You do know how to read, right?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s nice to hear your voice!”

“What? No, I mean I’m sorry for…” Barry trailed off, his mind swarmed by memories of pushing her away and feeling her anguish through the pointy pen tip.

“You wanted to protect me. I get it. Now we’re even from when I couldn’t write to you.”

“That wasn’t intentional.”

“It would have been! I was a pretty rebellious eleven year old.” He laughed, the silence after he finishes awkward until he breaks it.

“I’m in LA.”

“For work?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

Barry doodles a flower on his thumb. It’s not as pretty as any of hers, but she draws a faint heart around it. He brushes the heart, his own beating so loudly it was in his ears.

“I’m scared.”

“Me too.”

“Because of who I am? What I do?” His throat was thick from holding back the dam of emotion, but his voice managed to crack in desperation.

“I’m scared you’re going to leave me again.” Barry paused at that, his own heart breaking a little at the thought of all of the pain he must have caused Y/N by abandoning her. He’s now drawing a bouquet on his forearm, a sloppier version of her own.

“You don’t have to be afraid of that. Once I see you for the first time, I’m probably never going to leave you alone ever again… Not in a creepy way…”

“I would love that.”

“I’m giving you an out right now. You can hang up, stay in the safety of your life as a… what do you do again?”

“Graphic design!”

“I knew you were an artist!”

“And I knew you were a comedian!”

“Weird way of pronouncing what I actually do…” She giggled at that, falling quiet after a hearty laugh.

“Look at your leg. I’ll see you there at 9. Don’t be late!” As she hung up, Barry pressed his phone to his lips in shock. Remembering her words, he pulled his pants down to read the directions she had jotted onto his thigh, the dots in the I’s drawn as hearts instead of dots; he almost died of pure joy right then and there.

//

In hindsight, it was good that Y/N had suggested a coffee shop to meet because Barry had not gotten a wink of sleep the entire night. He had stared at the ceiling, flat on his back and still fondly stroking her writing on his leg. As his pointer finger traced the hearts, he felt his own thud loudly in his chest. It was easier to protect her when she was just lines on his person, just another part of him that he hated, another vulnerability. But hearing Y/N’s voice, imagining what she might look like, had ignited a wanting within him, a need to be with her, his other half. She was no longer just a part of him; she was a separate entity that he wanted to get to know and love.

He had gotten to the shop as soon as it opened at 4, wanting to figure out where the best table inside would be and staking it out for them. The barista had made him order a drink at 5:30; panicked and feeling about a thousand years old, Barry ordered “something to bring me back to life.” At 6 he was shuttering, borderline convulsing from the quad espresso that he consumed quickly. His anxiety was through the room, but all he could do was dig his fingernails into his palm which was resting on his jeans over her handwriting. What if she wasn’t as okay with the age difference as she thought she was? What if it hits her that her soulmate is a hitman? What if the drawings stop appearing. What if—

Barry jolted awake in his seat, now realizing that he had crashed from the overdose of caffeine. The barista (Stacie, he later learned) made a joke about having to restart his heart. He checked his phone: 8:30am. Suddenly, a thought dawned on him and he ordered another drink. By the time Stacie brought it over and started walking back to the counter, the bell above the door tingled. Barry immediately stood up like Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, turning to look at the customer. She sensed his stare immediately, turning to look him over as a dreamy blush painted her cheeks.

“Barry?” She whispered, his name less of a question and more of a disbelief. He swallowed, his throat dry as he looked over Y/N, his soulmate. She was absolutely picturesque, an almost pure aura of light around her as the door slowly shut behind her. As she drew near, Barry was almost too aware of how he towered over, a menacing presence.

“I gotcha a latt-“ Barry didn’t even get to finish his stuttering as Y/N grabbed his collar and pulled him down into a kiss. His mouth was already half open and he stumbled forward from the force of her tug. It wasn’t the most coordinated kiss in the world, her mouth mostly on his bottom lip and her teeth lightly bumped his by accident; but it was theirs. Barry felt his body fill with a warmth, like his whole being was sighing with relief at being united with his soulmate as he kissed her back. He had thought that the doodles and the sound of her voice would do him in, but this… this would knock his entire life’s path off track. After a moment, Barry gently placed his hands on her cheeks and pulled away, just looking down at her in awe.

“How did you know my coffee order?” Y/N asked, her grin stretched out wider than Barry previously thought possible. He babbled for a few seconds, removing his hands to gesticulate as he just expressed a bunch of word fillers before finally managing to get something out.

“Y-you, you wrote it on your hand as a-a part of your to-to-to do list,” he explained, trying to stick his erratic hands in his pockets but Y/N swung her hand forward to snatch his hand. She squealed, making a joke about how sweaty his hand was and Barry thought he would die of a heart attack right then and there. She pulled him down again, this time so they could sit at the table together and she could take a sip of her latte. Barry simply stared at her, his brain slightly short circuiting with delight. Eventually, rational thought caught up with him and Barry tried to remove his hand from hers, but she had a firm grip and a look in her eye that told him she already knew what he was going to say.

“You’re not worried about…”

“I thought we already went over this, Barry. I’m in! I’m all in,” she declared sweetly, leaning over to capture his lips once again. He was consumed by it, by her, his head swirling with a dizziness of emotion and his lungs burning with a heartache of regrets. They could have had this so much sooner, if he had left the army, if he hadn’t made that deal with Fuches, if he hadn’t been an idiot about wanting to protect her. The deep and mind numbing kiss ended as Y/N broke it to breathe heavy. Barry looked at her through lidded eyes, revering her with every fiber of his being.

“You are good at that! It’s a good thing too because it looks like I’m gonna have to kiss you every five minutes to get you out of that type of thinking,” she giggled, moving to lean back in her chair but Barry slung an arm around her waist, pulling her back into him with a soft smile.

“Better make it every two minutes because I’m thinking again,” he joked, his heart glowing as the love of his life obliged his request and kissed him senseless.

[the-canary]

Walk In The Night - B.B (1)

Summary: Death is a subject that should be easy for someone like Bucky after all these decades – well it isn ‘t and he finds out even more about himself and her along the way. (Reader/Bucky Barnes) 

Prompt:  “Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

A/N: this is for @softhairbarnes’s writing challenge. mentions of end-game, but doesn’t follow the move to a T. enjoy! 

“Come on, Bucky,” she laughs as she holds out her hand. Blue eyes watch her sway back and forth while Sinatra plays in the background, “I’ll be here the whole time.” 

It had been three years since everything had gone down with Thanos and the world was barely back to normal, but not in some ways. Sam has taken up the mantle of Captain America with Bucky by his side to help, alongside some S.H.I.E.L.D agents at times. 

It had been a rough acclimation without Steve there, but Bucky knew that his best friend was finally enjoying his time without the weight of Captain America. He got postcards from wherever he was at the time. Sometimes alone and sometimes with someone very special at his side. Bucky was happy that Steve was happy, and slowly but surely he would find some semblance of that as well -- with friends, his career, and his past as well.

“I’m ain’t sorry if I set on your toes, doll,” he huffs out with a laugh but follows her lead anyways. She rolls her eyes, as she pushes Bucky into taking up dancing once more. She needs a date for the Stark Memorial Gala. 

As they dance the night away, Bucky comes to realize how truly happy he has become in the 21st century, even if it’s only on a day by day basis.

It’s then that he wakes up punching the pillow once more..

———–

 Albuquerque, NM

 “Are ya sure you hafta to go?” Jean asks from her side of the bar countertop. You give her a weary smile before digging into your hastily made breakfast. 

You knew that this was more for her sense of self-preservation than her caring about your personal well-being. She already knew that the old truck outside was all packed with your essentials. The sentiment was nice but completely unnecessary. You stab your breakfast with the fork before you talk. 

“I’ll be back in a day or two,” you remark as her shoulders shag, “Besides Nick promised a good chunk of change for this.” 

Jeannie doesn’t say another word, as she starts whipping the countertop and you got up from your seat. You grab your backup and smile at the older woman’s direction. 

“Take care of yourself,” she yells out as you walk out, though you feel that she wants to say something else. That she wants to stop you from looking and searching, like millions of others. 

“People gain and lose stuff every day. They should just strap their booths and move one.” 

Jean thought you were one of those people in the former, but to be honest you didn’t even remember your life before or after “the snap” . Your mind had been a huge blank since Jean Darcy had picked up a battered and severely beaten person outside of the city.

You remember her screaming and the bright hospital lights, but everything else what a complete and utter blank. That had been almost two years ago and since then you had gotten a name and a profession of being what people called “T-Scavengers” . They were those that looked for things of value and importance in the aftermath of Thanos. 

Even after five years since the incident, there were still things and people were trying to make their lives feel right again. There were also those, like private detectives but more versatile, that sought these people and things that they had lost while in the vast amber world that Thanos had created. 

You weren't exactly like those who were searching for or those who did the searching for them, but you were always looking for something. Looking for that one little detail that could tell you about who you were in this big world.

And as you head down the 25 highway once more, you keep struggling to hang onto a very loose thread. 

———–

 It’s two days afterward that Jean sees it on the screen, as she gets ready to open the bar for the night crowd. She drops her rag as eyes stay trained on the screen. 

--THE RIO MINE HAS COLLAPSED ON ITSELF. UNKNOWN HOW MANY--

Jeannie tries not to fall apart right then and there while hoping that nothing had happened to a certain someone. 

———–

Sam isn’t sure what he was brought into a small hospital in New Mexico instead of heading with Bucky in Europe. It didn't help that they had learned that the remnants of HYDRA were popping up once more. It seemed that the bad guys were back and up in full force once m. Yet, he had received a call from a certain Director that told him it was urgent that he be here, anyone but Bucky Barnes.

That’s when the warning sirens went off, but Sam has to be civil and get all the necessary info before he pushed forward with any plan of action. 

Thus, he ends up sitting across a masked figure wearing large goggles. They took them off and even coughed a little, as their eyes meet and brown eyes widen. Dirty, soaked shirt against charred skin though there were areas where the skin was peeling off to reveal fresh and clear skin instead. It was like a snake shedding its old skin for new. 

This person was an enhanced, but that wasn’t the worst thing. No, that came when their face was free of any obstruction and he heard their voice. 

“Hey, aren’t you Captain America?” they ask, confused, “What do they have you talking to little ‘ol me?”

Why was a person that had died in a bombing staring at him in the white-washed room?

[leah-halliwell92]

Start Walkin’

A blurb inspired by the song ‘These Boots are Made for Walking’ by Nancy Sinatra. Thanks @buckyscrystalqueen​ for the help! P.S. Might do a Queen/Borhap blurb with the same song so send me cast and band member names!!!

p.p.s this is a Natasha x fem!reader

It was your first night out as a pair in nearly three months. You and Nat hadn’t had the time recently due to the heavy flow of missions that have been coming almost back to back. You’d missed her so much that when her text came that the team is going to be taking some much needed down time, you were counting down the days until you got to see her. 

Tony had sent you an invite to the tower for a party celebrating them getting some down time...week and a half before the date Nat had given you. 

You’d found it odd that Nat would give you the wrong date and not for the first time you long for the innocence of relationship where you hope your girlfriend made a mistake. But this relationship isn’t a normal or ordinary one and your girlfriend isn’t just a girl you picked up on tinder or a bar. You didn’t want to think the worse but you couldn’t turn a blind eye to this. 

So with a heavy heart you changed into a two-piece dress, did your makeup as you usually would adding a blood red lip instead of your natural lipstick and your pair of black suede ankle boots. You weren’t in the mood to play arm candy tonight, especially with the nagging feeling in your gut.

Tony had been kind enough to send a car. What you weren’t expecting was Iron Man himself sitting in the back willingly across from Clint. If your gut wasn’t giving you a bad feeling about what happened with Natasha then the looks on their faces might as well have been a damn confirmation.

“Who is she?” You asked hoping, but knowing it wouldn’t be true.

“Her name’s Amanda,” Clint said disappointment clear in his voice despite the poker face he was sporting.

“She was hired month and a half ago by Pepper,” Tony added, “She thought Dr. Foster needed more help other than Darcy around the lab despite Darcy saying that Jane is worse than I am when it comes to playing well with others and did as she pleased so hired Amanda anyway.”

You breathed a chuckle at that and took a deep breath before asking about when the missions had occurred the past month and a half. It was a sucker punch to the gut when they boys told you that those were days they were at the tower. 

“You mean to tell us she never told you?” Clint asked disbelief now clear on his face.

You shook your head and said, “Anytime I’d text her she’d say she was on assignment by Fury or on a mission with the team.”

“Don’t involve me in this!” One Nick Fury said from the passenger seat.

“Oh great not more trouble,” you say voice thick with tears.

“Not getting involved just here to say that Romanoff wasn’t on any assignment for me on those days...that is all,” Nick said before looking at his phone. 

“Well great,” you say and let your head fall on Tony’s shoulder as Clint pushed you to the middle of the seat so he could sit next to you.

“She made me swear not to say anything,” they said almost at the same time causing you to laugh.

“You both risked your manhoods to tell me this?” You ask as you laugh.

The three men in the agreed before Clint took over saying, “And before you even think about why you’re coming anyway... You needed to know the truth, and knowing you, you’ll probably want payback.”

You grinned at that knowing he’s right. Bust nuts now, cry later.

“I have an idea...”

Tony loved this idea already and sent F.R.I.D.A.Y a message to add a team activity to the list of activities.

And so when you arrived to the party you were mentally prepared to face your soon-to-be ex girlfriend and her...uh––well, there’s not a name for Amanda in your head yet so you settled for nameless. 

Tony does know how to throw a party, and you were glad it was team and their respective families/relatives only. You didn’t feel like flipping off the press today.

You spotted Nat easily and cringed when you spotted her with who you presumed is Amanda.

“That her?” You ask Tony.

“Yup,” he said taking a drink from his coke.

“Let’s get started then,” you say and make your way to the make shift stage. 

On the way to the stage you were stopped by the Winter Soldier himself who was dressed to the nines in dark wash jeans, navy shirt and leather jacket.

“(Y/N) right?” He asks.

You nod and his face blossoms into kind and apologetic grin.

“I let Stark and the bird man know,” he said quietly.

You looked at him surprised at the revelation.

He scratched the back of his head and said, “We didn’t know each other well enough for me to do or say something about your relationship. But I knew I couldn’t keep my mouth shut when I saw her with the new receptionist.”

“Did anyone else know?” You asked in disbelief.

“No,” he said honestly before closing your distance some and saying, “If you need an ear or just...anything don’t hesitate to hit me up. Ask Stark and he’ll give you more contact info than either of us knew I have.”

You laugh at that and nod your thanks before asking, “Um, could you do me a favor?”

He nods and you fill him in on what your plan is.

“If that’s the song you’re gonna sing then it won’t be too hard to play along,” he said with a smirk before letting you go.

You were nowhere near moving on but you could see yourself with the man. You made a mental note not to make him a rebound...he didn’t deserve that.

You were happy to see your plan had come fruition, or thank Tony for putting an impromptu karaoke set up done in no time at all.

You stood to the side as Happy presented you as the first Karaoke singer of the evening.

“And presenting Ms. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) with the first song of the night...that I don’t know what it is so I’ll just go,” he shrugged at you from the other side and you gave him a nod as you held back a laugh.

From your vantage point you saw Nat pale at being caught off guard. 

‘Not so fun when your not in control now is it?’ You thought with a smirk as you got on stage as Carol and Pepper stood to your left and right respectively.

When the music started you found the audience disappearing as your gaze zeroed in on Nat who had Amanda in an intimate hold where they were sitting at the bar.

“You keep saying you've got something for me Something you call love, but confess You've been a-messin' where you shouldn'ta been a-messin' And now someone else is gettin' all your best”

Nat’s eyes seemed to get wider as the song registered.

“These boots are made for walkin' And that's just what they'll do One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you Yeah

You keep lying when you oughta be truthin' And you keep losin' when you oughta not bet You keep samin' when you oughta be a-changin' Now what's right is right, but you ain't been right yet”

Clint, Tony and Bucky stood to the side of the bar each holding a different emotion on their faces.Clint and Tony both looked proud that you took a stand despite the buck shot of information that was sprung at you. 

“These boots are made for walkin' And that's just what they'll do One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you You keep playin' where you shouldn't be playin' And you keep thinkin' that you'll never get burned, ha! I just found me a brand new box of matches, yeah And what he knows, you ain't had time to learn” Bucky on the other hand looked like a man seeing the sun after months of being lost in darkness. “These boots are made for walkin' And that's just what they'll do One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you Are you ready boots? Start walkin'!”

The music hadn’t even ended before you strutted your way to where Bucky stood and throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him for a scandal worthy kiss.

“Buy a lady a drink Sergeant Barnes?” You ask after pulling away.

Bucky smirked at you and offered you his arm before saying, “It would be my pleasure ma’am.”

He escorted you to the bar where Natasha wasted no time in approaching you Amanda hot on her heals.

“(Y/N)––” She started.

“We’re through,” you say unflinchingly, “You can do whatever you like with her now.”

“(Y/N) please I’m sorry––” She began looking remorseful.

“Yes you are,” you say getting angry, “Sad to see you’re only sorry you got caught.”

“Come on doll,” Bucky said as he saw you getting upset.

“Stay out of this Barnes,” Natasha said eyes flashing.

“No need,” you say and stand taking Bucky’s bionic hand, “I was leaving anyway. Sad to know one has the guts to kill but not be up front when the occasion calls for it.”

This struck Natasha and it was evident you hit her where it hurts if her falling tears are anything to go by.

Amanda meanwhile seemed to have a brain in on her shoulders because she had stood there mouth a gap as the scene unfolded before her.

Bucky took you to a quiet dinner where he lent an ear and shoulder over shakes and burgers. Proving that maybe just maybe dating him is in your future.

Especially after calling on you as the days passed and taking it at your pace.

(This is the dress I had in mind but please picture it in black)

Tag List: @bowieandqueen11, @buckyscrystalqueen, @fandomgalcentral, @disasterdeacy, @disneymarina

[theexceptionaleccentric]

The Umbrella Academy and The Avengers Crossover!

So let’s do another crossover because I have too many ideas and like no time to write what with school and my other stories I would love to start posting before summer. So, let’s dive right in!

Firstly, let me just say that there aren’t nearly enough TA and TUA crossovers. Both groups have such brilliant and vibrant characters, it would be a sin not to see what would happen when we combine their dynamics. On the same note - because I cannot deal with major character death (like at all, I filter stories like that on AO3), let’s just pretend that all characters from the Marvel universe are just fine and dandy and ALIVE and will never die.

With that said - to the actual crossover!

When Five attempted to jump his siblings to the past at the end of TUA S1, he instead managed to jump them to a different dimension. And this dimension, unlike the one the kids come from is filled to a brim with superheroes. 

Because of Loki’s use of the Tesseract that is already tearing into a hole into the space-time continuum (it is after all bending space to allow the Chitari access to Earth) Five’s jump gets side-tracked and the siblings end up in New York just as the Chitauri are attacking. Five immediately realizes that they are in the wrong place (and time) and attempts to warn the others. However, he ends up passing out before he can do properly explain what happened.

So, the remaining siblings, now in their 13-year-old bodies, with unconscious Vanya and Five attempt to do what they were trained to do - be heroes. Problem is because they show their powers, SHIELD notices them. And of course, there are agents storming down the kids’ hiding place and catching them after the invasion is dealt with.

Long story short, they manage to incapacitate the siblings and bring them to the SHIELD custody. Nick Fury is already planning on testing their powers and pretty much training them to be his little soldiers just like Reginald wanted, but the newly-formed Avengers catch on his plan fairly quickly. And it wouldn’t be Tony if he didn’t alert Captain America who is full of morals and surely against locking up children. So after much threats and bargaining, the Avengers essentially end up adopting seven kids who aren’t actually kids but never bothered to tell them (Five strongly advised his siblings against that).

At first, both sides are deeply mistrustful of each other. Five doesn’t trust anybody, especially not eccentric billionaires (been there done that, thanks a lot Reginald), assassins (because come on are Hawkeye and Black Widow honestly going to pretend they don’t kill people for living, Five knows what a killer looks like - he can see one in the mirror every morning), two muscular oafs (he knows Luther, that’s enough) and a shadowy organization that is trying to “protect the world” (as if the people at Temps Commission didn’t say the same thing). In Five’s mind, this is just a warped version of their own dimension and he won’t let those people touch his siblings. 

So he fights tooth and nail to get his siblings out of SHIELD and then out of the Avengers’ Tower. They almost escape both times, but Jarvis (that traitor!) rats them out. It isn’t until Five lashes out at Tony (because Five won’t fall for this false sense of security, he knows they are just waiting to strike, to experiment on his siblings, to terminate Vanya, to “improve” Klaus, he just knows it) and in his anger describes some of the torture Reginald put them through when the Avengers finally understand what the actual problem is. They do their best to prove to Five that they are not and will never be like their late father. They try to be gentle and encouraging and talk about things (which is its own kind of torture for everyone involved). And Five reluctantly finds himself expanding his tight-knit family a little bit, to accommodate firstly the Iron Man and eventually Pepper and Bruce and Steve. He is still mistrustful of Fury, Black Widow and Hawkeye, but no one can fault him for that.

And funnily enough, after much trial and error of the Avengers attempting to “raise” seven “kids”, it all works out pretty well.

Tony, Bruce, Five and Ben have the weirdest type of bond. They are completely capable of talking science for hours (because Five and Ben still have to find out how science works in this universe and Tony and Bruce are so taken with the idea of time travel that all four just spend hours picking each others’ brains) and then promptly start insulting or ignoring each other (well, Tony and Five do that, Bruce and Ben just watch them with frustration and amusement depending on the day) whenever they have “outside audience” (meaning anyone who doesn’t belong into their science bros club).

Bruce and Vanya start something like a mentor-apprentice relationship. Bruce knows all about how difficult it is to have destructive powers that are linked to your emotions. So he and Vanya start semi-official Yoga & Herbal Tea Club together. The other Avengers and Umbrella Academy heroes join them every now and then. Eventually, Tony sets up a greenhouse at the Avengers Tower that is supposed to work as an oasis for their more volatile teammates and Vanya and Bruce organize weekly tea parties and violin concerts in there. (And even though Five grumbles tea is the worst and what he wouldn’t give for a decent cup of coffee, he ends up attending every single week.)

Alison’s throat has healed now that she is in her past body, but she is still reluctant to use her powers; nothing good ever came out of that. Natasha picks up on her reluctance and decides to instead teach her how to read and manipulate people without powers. In her opinion, it is a “healthy alternative”, because then Alison isn’t taking free will from anyone; people are just dumb enough to fall for a well-thought-out strategy. Alison is surprisingly ok with that because she feels like she can actually use these skills for something good - such as defusing fights between her siblings.

Luther is the one sibling that struggles the most in this new universe. All he has ever been told by his idealized father figure turned out to be a lie. He attempts to start a new chapter of his life in this new universe, but it is difficult. He is not sure who he is any longer. Steve Rogers can relate - he himself didn’t have the easiest of times adjusting to the future he woke up in. Steve and Luther tentatively manage to start a friendship where Luther learns a lot about being an actual leader that does what is right. And if Luther starts idealizing Captain America just a tiny little bit, no one says a thing, because Steve is a major improvement over Reginald any day.

Diego is unsurprisingly quite taken with Hawkeye. They start training together. Diego is working on expanding the range of his knife-throwing and Hawkeye is a worthy opponent for that. They don’t quite have a friendship, but they treat each other a little bit like friendly colleagues. However, Clint is forever amused by Diego’s stuttering around Black Widow and his obvious worship of Pepper. Diego has a thing for bossy women, motherly figures and generally strong females and his traitorous 13-year-old body filled with hormones is not helping that in the slightest. 

Klaus kind of fluctuates between being alright and relapsing to addiction. He spends the most time in the greenhouse or with Ben, but he starts getting antsy pretty fast. Ghosts are in every dimension and the Avengers’ Tower is hunted by quite a few. Klaus starts stealing some liquor from Tony but is quickly found out. Tony calls Professor X to come to have a look at Klaus’ powers because Tony might be a great engineer, but this magical mumbo jumbo is beyond him at this point. Charles Xavier mainly relieves Klaus of the fear of the dead, but that slightly backfires, because Klaus is always extra and gets a little frunk on the fearlessness (running head first into any battle and literally not being afraid of anything, his siblings are pretty scared for him). Professor X then tries a different tactic and coaches Klaus in how to use his powers. They make some progress, but it is not until Doctor Strange comes around that Klaus actually masters his ouija-board-like powers.

Thor is like the fun uncle that shows every once in a while, causes mayhem and disappears. Diego, Luther and Klaus positively adore him. Thor dotes on Vanya and Alison and calls them “little Valkyries” or “his favourite Midgardian ladies right after Jane”. Five hates Thor, because of his oaf-ish tendencies and the fact that he loves to pick him up (Five is sure it is at least partially because Thor knows he hates it - not that it matters because Five is rarely caught off guard and teleports away before Thor can even touch him). Thor says Five reminds him of his brother when he was young (these statements usually paint a rather uncomfortable expression on Tony’s face). Ben just finds the visits amusing and loves to see his siblings’ antics. 

Pepper and Natasha (and eventually Jane, Darcy and Wanda) have a shopping day with Kaus, Alison and Vanya once a month. Natasha and Alison people-watch while picking out sexy dresses, Pepper and Vanya look at the best new button-downs and Klaus (and Darcy) usually spends hours in the make-up section. Sometimes they take other people from the Tower with them - Tony, Bruce and Five and rarely persuaded to go anywhere, but Steve, Ben and Luther can be swayed. It’s hilarious to watch Steve navigate his way through stores with electronics.

Tony and Pepper are no doubt the ones most affected by the kids. Tony can relate to the abuse and neglect of parental figure far too well and subconsciously takes up the role of their surrogate father; even though he never calls himself that (it would no doubt deal a huge blow to the fragile relationship he has with Five). He is ridiculously protective of all the kids (which is one of the reasons Five respects him) and goes to great pains to ensure nobody upsets Vanya and no one insults Klaus’ choice of clothing or Diego’s stutter. Pepper notices, but she believes that it can be only beneficial for Tony to show some responsibility. So she orders a huge dining table into the Avengers’ Tower and starts organizing “family” dinners for all the occupants of the Tower. They don’t always go well (sometimes there's shouting or knives being thrown), but it still makes both Tony’s and Pepper’s heart swell to see all their “children” and friends around.

And that’s it for now! Feel free to add any thoughts or ideas.

[fantabulousfunnelweb]

Massive Spider-Tober dump (Days 1-6)

200+ Words per Prompt

I’ll try & post these in compilation dumps like this unless you’d like otherwise!

Day 1: Villain

The rubble and ash infested air stole Funnels breath before the bony fingers of his combatant deprived him of it, finger and thumb squeezing down on the Spiders neck as their mask-covered eyes met.

“We never had to do any of this, you know that Kid?”

The freakish orange eyes of Kjells mask stared daggers through the whites of Kyle’s own, almost sensing the utter fear beneath them as nothing but strained gasps arose from the spider's throat.

“And now look, you & I have gone and ruined old Ozzy’s head office! For a hero, you certainly don’t know anything about damage control…”

Finding the strength in his oxygen-deprived muscles, Funnel-Web thrust his feet forward, latching his soles strongly onto the chest of his attacker. Utilizing his newfound foothold, the Spider sent a panicked fist careening into the side of the Goblinoids head. Kyles could feel the reinforced plasteel give way to Kjells exposed flesh, how the cartilage of his ear became crushed like putty under the sheer force. The sensation was enough to send a cringe up Funnels spine. Taken off-guard by the Spiders blow, the spindly Goblin stumbled, grip faltering and granting The Funnel-Web freedom from Kjells grasp. The urge to just lay there amongst the charred old office was tempting, but as oxygen returned to Funnel-Web once more, so did his will to continue.

Day 2: News

‘Terror rocked the New York high rises as powered terrorists Goblinoid and The Funnel-Web waged a reasonless war hundreds of feet above Upper Manhattan, finishing with the heartbreaking destruction of former OsCorp Headquarters upper floors.’

“Can you turn that crap off?” Flint grunted from his battered old chair, his request catching the attention of the nearby Phil, who quickly answered his prayers and changed the channel. “I mean it. The new’s been gone all crazy about Supers again, don’t those freaks ever settle down?” He raised a hand to scratch at their chin, already a victim to a 5’o-clock shadow, “Darcy, whadda you think?” His attention turning over to their partner in the kitchen, assisting Kyles in cleaning out the oven and promptly attempting to ignore the question, but it didn’t last long. “I thought you said ya’ stopped caring about those guys years ago?” She rang from their kneeling position on the floor, inciting her cleaning assistant to chip in a word too, “Clearly not if he's complaining.” reverberating from inside the oven as he thoroughly scrubbed the remains of an explosive 2-week old pasta bake from its walls, the torturous stench only relieved by the satisfaction of hearing a stifled laugh out of Darcy.

Day 3: Run

“HI THERE SORRY MISTER FLINT BUT WHADDID DARCY ASK FOR ME TO BUY AGAIN?”

“The hel-Kyles?! Uh, It was just some bread, Rye bread, and why are you shouting!?”

Kyles held his tongue as he went sailing through a rooftop pavilion, a grey bullet over the heads of bystanders under its shade. “NO REASON! THANKS MISTER FLINT I’LL BE SURE TO GET THE BREA-!”.

Kyles hated to make Mr Flint worry from the abrupt hang up, but the Funnel-Web had enough on his own plate as he scanned the city roads for the runaway carjackers. If he knew he was going to be stopping a car chase at 4’o’clock he would’ve bought Darcy that bread first instead of pushing it down his to-do-list, although he will admit he did go over-schedule in his attempts to convince Patriot to build skateboard wheels into his shield. With the constant buzz of police scanners in his ears, the ever analysing lenses of the Funnels mask honed in on the suspected route of the high-speed bandits. Brisk evening air rocketed past him as they plummeted, catching their speedy descent with a web that anchored itself firmly to a building on his left. Sailing clean over the dismayed intersection, the Spider continued his chase towards the speeding 4-Wheel, keeping thoughts of Rye Bread ingrained in his mind.

Day 4: Flying

It was oddly backwards of the web-slinging Spider to be afraid of flying, barely containing panicked yells as they were flung through the air upon the backside of a speeding drone. Blistering 90kph speeds causing the Funnel-Webs jacket to become air-pressed against his body, almost stifling his breath in the process. “I’m on a drone, what do I do now!?” failing completely to sound not-at-all scared for their life to his fellow heroes.

It seemed like an eternity before the strained voice of Dusk pierced the comm lines, rife with exhaustion and own problems to worry about, yet helping their ally regardless.

“Structural weakness around the external stabilizer, PUNCH IT!” her instruction cutting out with a guttural cry and leaving Funnel once more with his own stressed thoughts as company. “Dusk!?!” Sent into a panic by the sudden radio silence, the Spider found the strength to grasp the drone with an open palm, reeling in his elbow shakily before sending a strong hook into one of the machines weaker point. Kyle’s eyes watered as his fist met reinforced steel, the flash pain locking up his arm, but the damage was already done, and with the significant blow to external stabilizer of the hostile drone, all the contraption could muster was to sail of its course and into the embrace of a concrete wall, scorching the cement and leaving the hero to fall with a tumble. “Dusk” The pain of his arm didn’t matter as much as it did his ally, kicking off an unsteady heel and flinging themselves once more into the warehouse battleground, desperate for the safety of their friend.

Day 5: Iron

“I’m telling you, the Ironheart girls a real piece of work.”

“What else would you expect Ms. Marvel? Anything out of Stark International is a piece of work.”

The eyes beneath the Spiders mask rolled in frustration, his annoyed grumbling drowned out only from his high seat over his teammates. “Alright Patey, corporate bias aside, she didn’t do a half-bad job helping us out, none of us could’ve possibly gotten that bomb out of the city if she didn’t swoop in.”

“Yeeah, but she also threatened to arrest us once she came back.”

“So?! We got out of there before she could, didn’t we?”

Silence fell upon the trio, the only noises being the delicate scrapes as Patriot nicked squashed bullets from his vest & shield, and the resounding metal clinks of them falling to the floor. “Alright, I get what you’re both mad about, I get it too. But we need to learn to be thankful about this sort of stuff, if she wasn’t required by law to arrest us, she wouldn’t have attempted!” Kyles didn’t think they’d be defending anybody tonight, let alone Morgan Starks new armoured bodyguard. “The whole point of the Unregistered is that we’re people just like them, just not on a stupid corporate list.” The Funnel-Web merely let out a winded sigh in response, leaning their back against the lukewarm steel girder they called a seat, “I’m gonna stare at the ceiling for a while, just… get my attention when you think we’re safe to go.”

Day 6: Fire

The hiss of extinguishing fire was drowned out the noise of more turning alight, reaching around the far recesses of the motel room along shiny trails of alcohol that soaked into the carpet. Funnel-Web never had any quips on hand for flash-fires and put his mind to business saving what he could of the makeshift drug lab, which unfortunately included the ones inside it. “Back off y’fucking freak!” an infuriated, raspy voice crawling across the smoke infested air. A soul caught in the crossfire of the assault that happened moments earlier, “I-I really can’t do that sir!” shouting out through closed breath as the Spider dared not inhale whatever the smog contained, furiously scooping up the trapped individual and trudging his way out. “Stay right here!” setting down the man at his feet before diving back into the room, smoke billowing through off the motel balcony and into the air. With the ones running the entire lab having escaped, Funnel was left to pick at the burning rooms, snatching a half-melted laptop from a smouldering desk before the distant sirens rendered it high time to leave. Funnel knew this was the last time they ever worked around Dusk’s neighbourhood, all this seedy motel drug stuff wasn’t really their speed. Besides, you couldn’t find a single building above 4 stories for blocks, a horrible environment for a Spider.

[builder051]

Alice’s restaurant

If you haven’t heard this song, go to YouTube and listen to it.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m57gzA2JCcM

This story takes place in my Steelbridge Sixties AU ‘verse, featuring Vietnam War-era Stucky.  It’s not 100% necessary to read the novella that sets the scene, but it’s here if you’re interested.

_____

Walk into the shrink wherever you are, just walk in, say,"Shrink, you can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant", and walk out

You know, if one person, just one person, does it, they may think he's really sick and they won't take him

And if two people do it, in harmony, they may think they're both faggots and they won't take either of them

And if three people do it! Can you imagine three people walkin' in, singin' a bar of "Alice's Restaurant" and walkin' out? They may think it's an organization!

--Arlo Guthrie, Alice’s Restaurant, 1967

_____

Bucky wakes with his head aching.  He supposes he should be used to it by now.  He doesn’t think he’s gone a whole day without pain since before the war.  The days when he was too fucked up to be aware of his body don’t count.  And he’s supposed to be getting clean anyway.

The alarm clock on the bedside table begins to ring.  Steve reaches out of the cocoon on blankets to silence it.  Then he rolls over and grins at Bucky.  “Morning,” he says sleepily.

“Morning.”  Bucky tries arranging his face in a smile, but it feels awkward.  He isn’t sure he’s achieved the desired result. He stops worrying about it when his jaw stretches into a yawn.

“Sleep ok?” Steve asks as he sits up.

Bucky shrugs.  It’s easier to sleep in Steve’s bed.  He’s gotten used to the mattress.  It no longer feels gooey under his spine, and it’s a definite improvement from an Army-issue bedroll or a hospital cot.  It helps to have another body tucked in with him, too.  A peaceful face one pillow over to remind him of where he is in time and space.

“It’s a big day, right?”  Bucky rubs the grit from his eyes.

“Yeah.”  Steve opens the dresser drawer and starts pulling on a pair of jeans.  He tosses another pair onto the bed for Bucky.  “You remembered.  Ready to wield a serving spoon?”

“I remembered…”  Bucky echoes.  Most of the time he knows what day it is, but it’s especially important today.  It’s Thanksgiving.  A happy day.  But he doesn’t feel happy.

Bucky mulls it over as he slips out of bed.  Everything at the forefront of his mind is solid, like the surface of a frozen lake, gleaming and ready to run across.  He’s safe.  He’s home.  He and Steve have plans.  But a dark shape lurks beneath the surface, reminding him that all it takes is a single crack for things to turn dangerous.

Steve helps him through the process of getting ready.  They’ve fallen into a routine; Bucky struggles with his clothes while Steve disappears to the bathroom.  He finishes up as soon as Bucky’s ready to join him, leaving the faucet running and Bucky’s toothbrush on the counter.

Bucky wants to ask him for an aspirin.  Ideally something stronger, but he knows that won’t fly.  He hasn’t touched anything beyond weed in almost a month.  Which is a good thing, Bucky reminds himself.  He sticks his toothbrush in his mouth, cringing at the bitter tang of chemicals under the artificial mint.  Too late now.  He won’t want to swallow anything for at least half an hour.

They hold hands as they walk to the shelter.  “No one’ll see,” Steve murmurs as he interlaces his fingers with Bucky’s.  It’s a holiday, and early morning to boot.  The neighborhood is completely still, and even the main roads are devoid of traffic. There may as well only be two cars in the entire town, both parked on the curb in front of the soup kitchen.

It’s warm inside, and already full of the aroma of cooking food.  “Hey, guys!”  Scott looks up from the antenna he’s wrestling into place atop the ancient TV set.  “There’s coffee in the back.  And pie.”

“Pie?” Steve shakes his head.  “A little early for that, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well, it ain’t just for breakfast anymore.”  Scott fiddles with the knob to change the channel, and a view of New York City appears in grainy black and white.

“Nice one, man.”  Steve claps him on the shoulder, then leads Bucky through the swinging door to the kitchen.

Sam appears to be in command, stirring a huge pot of potatoes while talking T’Challa through the turkey.  “It’s pre-cooked, man.  Stop messing with the oven or you’re gonna dry it out.”  His eyes alight on Steve and Bucky, and he greets them with an enthusiastic, “Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Most wonderful time of the year,” Steve says.  He pours himself a cup of coffee, then raises the carafe and makes eyes at Bucky.

“Sure,” Bucky mumbles.  The kitchen is comforting, both at the shelter and the house.  Like the bed, it’s not a place Bucky’s been lately, so he’s at ease there.  Mostly.  His hackles are up today, nagging at him like the throb behind his forehead, reminding him again of the fragility of his situation.  He takes one sip of the coffee, then decides he’s jittery enough and leaves the mug on the counter.

Steve won’t let him touch the knives, supposedly because his one-handedness keeps him from being able to hold steady whatever he’s cutting.  Bucky knows it’s for safety, too.  He agrees that it’s probably smart.  Sam puts him in charge of the gravy, first stirring the pot bubbling on the stove, then ladling it onto trays when the clock strikes 11 and the customers start streaming in.

Steve’s a chatterbox, too excited for his own good.  He makes conversation with every person in line as he doles out potatoes and stuffing.  Some of the scruffy men reply in kind, but most just mutter “thanks” and look at the floor.

Bucky doesn’t blame them.  He has a hard time lifting his gaze from the oily sheen of the gravy pan.  Making eye contact leaves him exposed, staring down the humanity in the other guy’s soul, just as they stare down his.  It makes it harder to act.  Harder to kill.

“Pour a little extra on here for me, will ya, boy?”

“Huh?”  Bucky blinks down at the slice of apple pie and the shaky hand holding out the dessert plate.  Then at the face behind it; the grin and the eye patch.

“Ugh, really, Nick?”  Steve laughs and wrinkles his nose.  “Gravy on potatoes, gravy on turkey…but gravy on pie?”

“Hey, I don’t comment on what you get up to,” Nick says.  “Come on.  Help a brother out.”

Bucky lifts the ladle slowly.  His heart beats hard and fast, but everything around him is too still.  The extended second of levitation before free fall.

“Who cares?  It’s just gravy.”

It’s just gravy.

I don’t care.  They’re not your rations.

He ain’t gonna eat ‘em.

He ain’t your fucking problem.

Don’t speak for ‘im.  Whadaya say, Barnes?  You gonna eat?

He isn’t hungry.  He doesn’t want to open his mouth, either.  His stomach’s in knots.  Everything in this godforsaken country smells like sweat and shit, even the food.  Even the food they shipped in specially, as if the government needed a federal holiday to give the troops abroad a sharp kick in the ass and call it thankfulness.

“Buck?  You alright?”  Steve’s hand closes over Bucky’s, stilling its quavering.  There’s gravy all over the counter, and Nick’s pie is swimming in it.

“Sorry, Nick,” Steve says.  “Scotty, you wanna grab him a fresh slice?”

“No, no, it’s ok,” Nick says with a chuckle.  “Got what I asked for, didn’t I?”  He takes his food and shuffles to a table.

“Just put it down, Buck.”  Steve murmurs.  He pries the ladle out of Bucky’s grip.  “Alright?”

Bucky’s teeth are chattering.  But he’s warm.  Too warm.  His head hurts.  And his arms.  The one that’s been stirring and scooping for the past four hours, and the one that’s not there.

Steve tucks Bucky’s hair behind his ear and presses the backs of his knuckles to his cheek.  “You feel ok?”

Bucky means to say “yeah,” but instead he mumbles, “People are gonna see…”

“It’s fine,” Steve says.  “Like he said, nobody cares what we get up to.”

Nobody cares.  Rations are rations.

Bucky takes a breath and tries again.  “I…” he starts.  “Um…”

“How ‘bout you sit down and have something to eat,” Steve suggests.  He pats Bucky’s shoulder and turns to get him a plate.

It’s the last thing Bucky wants, but he isn’t in the position to argue.  All he can do is try not to watch as Steve dishes him up.

“Here, come sit.”  Steve finds him a place at a table in the corner between Darcy and Nat.  Some deep recess of Bucky’s brain acknowledges the small miracle of veterans and protesters enjoying dinner in the same room, but the thought is impossible to hold.  It’s on top of the ice, and he’s trapped beneath it.  He’s stuck here, in his body and his memories, while the rest of the world spins without him.

Bucky picks up his fork because that seems like what Steve wants.  As soon as his blonde head bobs back into the kitchen, though, Bucky stands up again.  Somebody asks what’s wrong, but he doesn’t reply.  He can’t.

He leaves through the front door and circles around the back of the building.  A dumpster takes up most of the narrow alley, but there’s a pile of plywood and a soggy-looking mattress jammed into the corner.  Bucky makes for it, tripping over his feet and going down harder than he intends.  His knees smart, but Bucky doesn’t care.  He has to focus, to spit out the words before they turn to rocks in his pockets and pull him down.

Beds didn’t exist in Vietnam.  They did before, and they do after.  Nothing else matters.  Not food, not Thanksgiving.  Just safety.  And Steve.

“You’re…here,” Bucky grunts.  “You’re safe.”  He embeds his hand in his hair and stares at the dirty pavement between his feet.  He pulls in a half-dozen breaths that taste like garbage and winter sunshine.  It’s cold out here.  It wasn’t cold in Vietnam.

“There you are.”  It’s Steve’s voice.  Steve’s shadow approaches, and his shoes edge into Bucky’s visual field.  “Not feeling so good?”

“Hm.”  Bucky sighs.  “’M here.”

“And you’re safe,” Steve finishes.  He sits on the edge of the mattress and lays the flat of his palm between Bucky’s shoulder blades.  “Do you feel like talking about it?”

“Nah.”  Bucky searches for a sentence to capture the gist of it, but the more he thinks about it, the more nebulous the feelings become.  “Just…memories.  And…hurt.”

“What hurts?”

Bucky runs down the list.  Head, stomach, arms, ribs…  The tension in his shoulders holds an exhausting sort of pain.  He usually relaxes into Steve’s touch, but this time his muscles are locked in spasms, sending a nauseating tightness into his throat.  “My arm,” he says.  “My arms.”

“You probably used some muscles you haven’t worked in a while.”  Steve squeezes Bucky’s bicep and runs his hand over the top of his back.  He gently touches the crest of Bucky’s stump shoulder.  “Over here too?”

“Hm.”  The scars are healed now.  Nothing’s wrong with his skin, save the jagged pink marks that have yet to fade.  But something’s off on the inside, phantom pins and needles that prickle like surgical implements accidentally stitched inside. They come and go, fading for weeks then suddenly popping back to remind Bucky of how far he is from truly recovering, how any little thing can ruin him.

Like gravy.

“It’s ok, Buck.  You’re here.  You’re safe…”  Steve says something else, but Bucky doesn’t hear it.  His fingers hit the underside of Bucky’s stump, and the world turns upside down.  The tension in Bucky’s body drops, then reengages in the blink of an eye.  His entire left side tingles.  His vision erupts in stars, and a dry heave bursts from his chest.

“Whoa, ok,” Steve murmurs frantically.  “Ok.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry, Buck.”  The pressure of his hands disappears, leaving Bucky unmoored and drifting.  Bucky blinks a few times, but it does nothing for the sick vertigo playing around his ears.

“Ugh.”  Bucky wishes he could say something more definitive, something to insinuate he’s ok.  Which he isn’t, but he’s going to be, as soon as he gets his bearings again.

Steve’s breath is quick and concerned beside him.  He’s going to work himself into a tizzy if he isn’t careful.  Bucky lifts his trembling hand and drops it on Steve’s knee to reassure him, to make him feel a little better.  He thinks he feels a little better too.

[awritersnightmare]

Spooktober Day 9- It will kill you if you don’t say please

Hey guys, today has been hectic but I have this done! TW: assault, sexual assault implied.  Thanks for reading, reblog if you do !

Day 9- “It will kill you if you don’t say please”

           Daisy toyed with her zippo, standing on the corner of Fairmont and 4th. The brief bursts of flame keeping her fingers warm before extinguishing it and starting the process all over again. This had to be the corner. She’d never gotten a location wrong before. Darcy had sent the memo not even seven minutes ago. She had huffed it over here, expecting to find the rest of her team already there.            Annoyed, she opened her phone again and checked the message. “Fairmont and 4th, five minutes. Or the boss will fire you. –D. Carling.”            She rolled her eyes, always that same threat. As if the boss could really afford to lose their best team. Without them, their success rate would still be in the low fifties instead of up in the high eighties. The rest of the percentage was filled with the mediocrity of the new teams. Within a month of their training they had become the senior team. The truth of their new company only being revealed at the last second.             They weren’t just a shipping company, they offered all kinds of fun services. Wasn’t that exciting? Didn’t you just love that you’d sold your soul to the proverbial devil?            Fine. Whatever it took to get her family out of the debt they’d dug themselves into. Her parents lived in fear of being taken away from her brothers. It was up to her to free them. And every paycheck went to them. Almost twelve hundred dollars a job. That times two every month. Within the next year they would be free of the debtors. And Daisy? Well, she could never see them again.            She checked her watch, in two minutes the rest of her team was going to be very late. Again she read over the message, triple checking this was the right place. This time she also read the recipients line. Surprise passed over her mind as she realized she was the only one who had received the message.            What in the world did that mean?            Anxiety spiked inside her. If she was the only this meeting was for then who was she meeting?            Quickly, she shot off a text message to Nick and Bella. She needed someone to know her last whereabouts. In case… well in case she didn’t come back from whatever this was. Maybe this was Darcy’s way of getting rid of her. Why, she couldn’t begin to try and guess at. Then again, she made a point of not trying to understand anything about her bosses.            Her phone dinged, a message from Bella. And two seconds after one from Nick. Bella’s was frantic.            “Do you need me to come get you?”            “No… But if I don’t message you again in an hour just… come find me.”            As for Nick… Well…            “I’m on my way. Don’t move.”            And there was no point in trying to persuade him otherwise.            She could always count on him to take care of her. And everyone else on their team. They’d been paired together since the beginning of their journey with the G.O.D.S. organization. As a family, they took care of each other. No matter what happened they had each other’s backs. That included being back up for sketchy deals with their own company.            “Miss Lang, I presume,” A voice said behind her.            Daisy spun around to face a tall man in a black three piece suit. He had a deep purple bowtie and a pocket watch hanging out of his vest pocket. He smiled down at her, his teeth shining in the afternoon sun. One hand was tucked neatly in his pocket, a cane hanging from his elbow. The other hand held a notebook open.            “Who wants to know?”            The man’s smile widened. “An interested party.” He made a note in his book and tucked it into his jacket pocket. He slipped the cane off his elbow and rested on it, leaning forward so their faces were almost level.            Daisy began to calculate how far she could get if she needed to run. What were her exits and which one would carry her farthest away. She didn’t need to get home, she just needed to lose him. Her best bet really would be to scale the building beside them, but she’d never been good at climbing. That was Lena’s specialty. Okay so not the building. What was option two? Run into the street? Pray the cars didn’t hit her but were numerous enough to slow down the man with a cane. Maybe… The alleys around here were all dead ends. She needed an open space.            “You want to acquire some kind of object?” She asked, trying to keep him occupied while her mind made an escape plan.            “Hm… you could say that.”            She hated the tone in his voice. She hated the slimy residue it left on her skin.            “Well, the organization I represent can get you a fair price on any shipment. What did you have in mind?”            Keep with the sells pitch. Keep him talking. Make him put his guard down and then attack. Just like you were trained.            All she’d have to do was kick his cane out from under him and smash his face into her knee the moment he lost balance. That would make his head spin and give her at least ten seconds to dash away.            Darcy would be pissed at her for losing a client, but he wasn’t worth the money. She’d make it up to him somehow. Rob a bank or something. Besides, this guy didn’t seem good for the cash. He was dressed fancy but the ends of his coat were fraying and his shoes had scuffmarks.            No way did this guy have the kind of cash for whatever it was he wanted.            “This would be… a kind of special delivery,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her arm.            Panic shot through her and she grabbed his arm, twisting it around to pin it behind his back. The cane clattered to the ground and she shoved him up against the marble building. He let out a muffled cry of alarm, his face now smashed into the wall.            “Don’t you dare touch me. I am not for sell you piece of crap,” she said. “I’m the delivery girl, if you want a package you gotta go through the proper channels.”            “Darcy said-“            “I don’t care what he said. He isn’t here. I make the rules in this deal. You understand?”            He wriggled against her, twisting this way and that. Trying in vain to loosen her grip. “Let me go you bitch.”            She clucked her tongue at him. “Such language. That will get you nowhere in life. I should just kill you right now.”            “Help! Help this thing is assaulting me,” He cried.            For a brief moment she thought maybe someone might try and stop her. She looked around, but there was no one on the streets at this hour. No one respectable at least. If they saw a guy shoved up against a wall, it meant he’d deserved it.            The glories of the city.            “This thing won’t kill you, if you just say please,” she said, sweet and unassuming.            All the fight went out of him. Realizing that no one was going to come to his aid. He slumped against the wall with a soft whimper of pain. “I-I’m sorry. P-please let me go.”            Daisy smiled and released his arm, pushing him into the wall as she stepped back. Without hesitation he recomposed himself and straightened his jacket. He dust off his vest, looking over his outfit with great care. Finally he smoothed down his hair and spat at her feet.            “Such poor service. Darcy will be hearing my complaints,” he said and picked his cane up off the pavement.            “Good,” Daisy said. “I’m sure he’d love to hear how you tried to lay hands on one of his star employees. Please, go on and tell him. It will be your word against mine.”            “You’re a beast.”            Daisy giggled and twirled her hair, “oh please. There’s no need for flattery.”            He let out a huff and stalked away, looking back only once to make sure she wasn’t following. The farther away he got, the faster he walked until he was all but sprinting down the street.            When he turned the corner out of sight, Daisy opened her phone. As she was typing a very strongly worded message to Darcy, Nick came careening around the corner. He reached her, placing his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. When he could stand up again he leaned against the wall and said,            “I’m here.”            “Yeah, two minutes too late,” she said, though not with anger.            Nick winced and ran his fingers through his hair, “sorry I was… up at 24th and Pine. I had to run all the way here.” He keeled over again and put his head between his knees.            “Oh sweetie please calm down. You’re going to make yourself sick. I’m fine, just some scumbag not understanding what it is we do.”            She finished her message to Darcy and dropped down beside him. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned against him. It had been awhile since she’d had a close call like that. It used to happen a lot, now she barely worried about it. Nick hugged her tight and placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.            Over their weeks in training he’d become the big brother she’d never had.            They sat there for a few minutes, recovering from the adrenaline. Two minutes in she got a reply from Darcy.            “Yes we’ve had problems with him before. Promised he would behave this time. We agreed since he can pay well but… you know how it is. I knew you could handle it. Well done, Lang.”            Daisy dropped her phone and buried her face in her knees. God she hated him. Nick didn’t ask but tightened his arms around her while she silently cried.            This is for your family… this is for your family…  

[rhiannon-a-christy]

If Tomorrow Never Comes: Part 2

Part Two: 

   Darcy had been in the past for a month. She would like to say that she had handled it well, but that would be a lie. A huge lie. After her almost scandal inducing outburst at the party, she had been sent back to her room. Jane’s father had guided her out of the parlor throwing excuses over his shoulder about exhaustion or something. She had gone on to lie on her bed whispering ‘what the fuck?’ for the next few hours before falling asleep.

   When she had woken her first thought was to find Jane and tell her about the strange dream she had, her second had been the ever eloquent ‘what the ever-living fuck?’ This continued to be a theme of her daily life in 1880. Even a month in as she still expected it to be some elaborate joke.

   If she had ever traveled back in time she has expected it would be like in the movies. She would find herself lost in a world with no one familiar. Instead it turned out she was a ward of the Foster family. From what she had been able to piece together her parents had died when she had been younger and left her to the charge of Michael Foster. She had lived with them as a daughter, and sister to their own child since she had been six years of age.

   It was strange to think of Past-Darcy, as she had dubbed the woman she was swapped with. She wondered if she was in the future, or perhaps they were just the same person split across time. When she had been in high-school she had gone into a whole phase where she believed in reincarnation and even soul sharing. She had given it up and moved on to other things before she graduated, but now she wondered if that younger her had the right of it after all.

   No matter what the deal was with her, Past-Jane was definitely her Jane. The woman spent most of her time in the family library reading every book on science and the world as she could. Her father would just roll his eyes, but indulge his daughter in her every whim. No matter what her mother had to say about it. For Past-Darcy, it seemed she was much like Future-Darcy. Loud mouthed and ready to give her opinion at every opportunity. This was, according to Jane’s mother, the reason why neither of the girls were married at their age.

   For the first week, Darcy had spent all her time with Jane. She was a familiar face in a strange world. It wasn’t long though before she got tired of the library and once again started exploring. As it turned out, Jane’s family came from a long line of ranchers, and the huge house she had remembered from the future had once been in the center of a rather large and lucrative cattle ranch.

   Every day she would wake up, eat breakfast, and dash off to explore. Mama Foster called it indecent, Papa called it taking an interest in the family business. Darcy would walk the great expanse of land, watch as the hired hands rode out to the cattle. One day she had packed a lunch and spent it watching some of the men mend the fence.

   Sam and Steve were two of the best hands on the ranch, and a couple of the best looking. The thing was, people were not the best looking in the old west. Hard lives and hard diets played havoc on their skin. Even so, these two men looked like they came out of an old Hollywood movie and she loved watching them.

   The day she had gone to watch them mend the fence had turned out to be a wet and miserable day. They had tried to convince her to return to the house, but she had brushed them off and bit into her cold biscuit. They had teased and laughed at and with her, talking about life on the ranch. Around noon she had finally convinced them to sit down with her and share her food. After they had finished, Sam had pulled her up and stuffed a pair of leather gloves over her hands. She spent the rest of the afternoon learning how to mend a snapped wire fence.

   When she wasn’t hanging out with Sam and Steve, she was usually in the stables. She hadn’t been one of those girls growing up that had been obsessed with horses. Her passion as a child had been hippos, not that she could explain why now. But there was just something about horses when one lived a life dependent on them. If she was going to be living in the past she was determined to survive, and that meant learning everything she could. And that included riding a horse.

   She had thought to ask Sam or Steve, but not knowing if Past-Darcy had been able to ride she didn’t want to call attention to herself. In the end, she decided she would observe others and then try on her own. It had been a stupid idea, but hindsight is always 20/20 is it not?

 ---------------------------

   It had been early fall when she had decided to attempt actually riding a horse. She had spent a few weeks in the stables just getting to know the animals and she was certain which one should would ride. He was a beautiful horse, all tawny with a single white mark in the middle of his eyes. She had taken to calling him Sandy, completely ignoring the creature’s true name.

   She had waited until Past-Jane and Mama Foster had gone into town. Darcy had spent the whole morning complaining about feeling ill; a bit of pain behind the eyes and a sour stomach. The ruse had worked when Mama Foster sent a half ready Darcy back to her room; for surely it wasn’t safe for her to be traveling in her condition.

   Darcy had waited for an hour after they left before she slipped from her room. She had nicked a pair of trousers and a shirt from Sam, as the clothing she had on when she first arrived had been tossed out. She buttoned and tied herself up and laughed. She knew she looked ridiculous. Though Sam was the smaller of her two friends, his clothes still hung on her like sheets on a line.

   The next part was tricky, she had to get to the stables, saddle Sandy and make it out to the trail without being seen. She couldn’t believe her own luck when not one ranch hand made to stop her. She really shouldn’t have gotten cocky.

   It took a few tries getting her short frame up on the horse, but eventually she settled herself. The problem came when she tried to move… as in she didn’t. The horse just stood there, every few moments turning his head back to stare at her. She knew it was silly, but she swore the expression on his face was one of disdain. She was even more convinced of this when she decided that she picked the wrong horse and was going to give up, and Sandy thought it would be funny to dart off with her clinging to his back.

   She held on tightly, hands grasping at anything and everything, just hoping that she would be alive by the end of it all. Eyes clamped tight, she didn’t see the rider coming up alongside her. She didn’t hear him either, not with the way she was screaming her head off.

   A strong arm slipped around her waist, and she could hear calming words whispered in her ear instructing her to let go of the saddle-horn. Once she realized that she was being rescued, she let go and allowed herself to be pulled into the lap of her savior. She clutched onto him, face hidden against his chest as they rode. Movement brought her attention back to Sandy, and she watched amazed as the man holding her effortlessly roped the horse.

   They were both silent on the way back to the stables; Darcy too embarrassed to even look up at her rescuer, and who knew what the man holding her thought. When they returned she could feel his rumbling voice through his chest as he spoke to one of the other men. He handed off Sandy, and for a moment Darcy wondered if he would simply dismount and walk off.

   A gloved hand slid under her chin, forcing her to look up at the man who saved her life. When her eyes met his she felt a jolt in her chest. Sam and Steve were good looking, but this man was perfect. He was quiet as he looked over her face, his eyes returning again and again her hers. Eventually he gave a crooked smile that made the corner of his eyes crinkle.

   “Ma’am, maybe horse-ridin’ just ain’t for you.” The man let go of her chin and effortlessly stepped to the ground. He reached up, grasped ahold of her, and set her onto her feet.

   She wobbled a bit, but steadied when he placed his hands on her shoulders. It was at that moment that she saw Papa Lewis running like the hounds of hell were after him, Sam and Steve at his side. It was also at that moment she knew she was fucked…. Looking up at the man whose arms were still around her… fucked in more than one way.

 ---------------------------------

   So, it turned out that Past-Darcy also didn’t know how to ride a horse. It was a widely known fact around the ranch. When Papa Lewis had reached her, he had first gathered her up in his arms a few tears falling onto her shoulder. It was later that she got berated.

   First, she had to deal with the disappointed and frightened stares of her friends as Papa led her back towards the house. Then she was made to sit and listen to Papa yell at her for over an hour. When he finally calmed down he sent her to her room. She was in tears, but she would rather have that then what happened when Mama Lewis returned home.

   Darcy carefully turned in her bed, being careful not to put much pressure on her backside. All of that aside, she was smiling. During dinner she had sat quietly, if stiffly, just listening to her Foster parents. Papa spoke of her rescuer, and she was excited to finally know his name. James Barnes, better known as Bucky. He was a childhood friend of Steve’s who had come to work on the ranch.

   She curled up on her side, eyes landing on her window. Bucky, what an appropriate cowboy name. She laughed and cuddled up to her pillow. Maybe being stuck in the past wasn’t so bad after all.

 ------------------------------------

 Author’s Note: Yay! I actually got the next bit done. I’m craving westerns right now, so I will probably be writing a lot of them.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

[ssromanogers]

you're my mission

To:  @eternal-love-song

From: @idkwhattoputheretbh

Note: Hey there! I hope you like this little oneshot I wrote!! I noticed that you also ship Loki and Darcy (I hope I’m not mistaken) so there’s also a little something of that in here. Enjoy and let me know what you think about it!

The team hasn’t heard back from Det. Steve Rogers and Sgt. Natasha Romanoff was sent to take him home.

(sorry, I suck at summaries)

The alarm blared at exactly 7am. Natasha, buried under a huge mattress, slowly woke up and had a smile on her face. Today is her and Steve’s second anniversary as a couple and she plans on making it extra romantic.

As she glanced to her side, she noticed that the bed is empty. Weird. Her brows furrowed in confusion; Steve never woke up before her. Something didn’t feel right to her but she ignored that feeling, figuring that Steve probably was in the bathroom or in the kitchen so she decided to check on him. She was walking slowly as to not scare him if he was there, but was disappointed when she came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, not at home. She grumpily started to get ready for work and grabbed a bagel for breakfast and drove to work.

It’s one thing to leave in the middle of the night without telling her, but on their anniversary? Natasha was furious as she was driving, but there’s still a sense of fear into her. What if Steve had left her for good? What if he decided that two years with her was not good and he’s got to end things? Her mind was racing as she gripped the steering wheel and drove faster to the precinct. Natasha is a sergeant at the NYPD, where she is the supervisor of the 7-5 precinct. She and Steve were both detectives when they first met 7 years ago but she has been promoted after passing the sergeant’s exam last year.

“Briefing room, now,” were the first words she heard as soon as she stepped out of the elevator on their floor. It was announced by their Captain, Nick Fury, and she watched as the rest of the squad filed into the briefing room. She placed some case files down on her desk before following them. She noticed that Steve’s desk adjacent to hers looked untouched from the night before, and she felt anxiety curl into her stomach. Fury was looking at her so she quickly walked in the briefing room and he closed the door after her.

“I received a phone call from my informant at 4am earlier saying that the Herrera family drug syndicate has a massive shipment coming in later today,” Fury started to say. Natasha felt her heart pound against her chest. This is the case Steve has been working on. “I sent Detective Rogers there as soon as I ended the call, he’s been on a stakeout near the site since this morning.” Fury met Natasha’s gaze and she feels like he’s talking directly to her instead of the whole squad. “We’re supposed to hear back from him 2 hours ago but so far, he hasn’t reached out yet. We need to extract him.”

Natasha closed her eyes and slumped into her chair. She felt her friend, Detective Wanda Maximoff, place a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. She glanced at her and gave her a weak smile.

“Romanoff, Lewis, and Laufeyson, you guys will lead the extraction. The rest of the squad and I will be with you as surveillance and we’re going to be surrounding them. We know that there’s been a shipment of weapons in a huge container box so we will consider them as armed and dangerous. Everyone got that?” Fury asked, looking around the room, with everyone nodding. “Then gear up, we’re leaving in 10 minutes.”

Natasha got up to lead them to the weapons room. She can tell they were looking at her quite nervously so she decided to put on a brave face and let them know that she’s okay. They got their equipment together as quickly as they can and piled into their respective vans.

Natasha drove the van her team is at, with Det. Loki Laufeyson in front next to her and Det. Darcy Lewis in the back, patching up communications with Capt. Fury, Det. James Barnes, Det. Clint Barton, and Det. Thor Odinson all on the other van that would surround the area and provide surveillance. They were informed that more police officers would follow them at the scene.

“Ugh stupid mic, they can’t hear me,” Darcy muttered. She lightly hit the mic connected to the computer on the desk and Loki chuckled at her.

“Be careful man, you’ll only break it more. Just twist the end thingy, that always does the job for me,” he suggested. She did what he said and beamed at him when it worked, so she began to exchange plans with Fury.

Once they got to the site, Natasha can feel blood thumping in her ears. She’s been nervous before, it’s only natural after all, but never this nervous. Steve has always found a way to contact them or he would always have back-up with him in case things go south and she feels like screaming at Fury for sending him in alone. She took a deep breath and jumped out of the truck, securing her helmet in place. Behind her, Loki and Darcy did the same and they moved into position.

“The walls are too thick to scan for people, but we think there may be hostiles still there,” Fury’s voice came onto their earpieces. “Be careful and just say something if you want us to follow in.”

“Guys on my lead,” Natasha whispered and caught Darcy’s and Loki’s eyes. They nodded and she signaled for them to go in after her, their guns poised up. The door was bust out so Natasha circled the small entrance before yelling clear. They all took turns clearing the passages that lead to deeper into the warehouse, and they were starting to feel like they were alone. There were large container bins stacked up over each other all over the place and it was as if they were in a city. Natasha looked around her, thinking that the place seemed familiar but she just can’t quite put her finger on it. She brushed it off and tried to locate the middle of the place.

Once she moved past the container bins and into what seemed like an empty clearing, she noticed a pair of legs peeking out from behind a wall. She gulped, not liking what her gut was telling her. After two confirmed “clears” from Darcy and Loki, she slowly approached the body, her gun a bit shakily up in front of her. She almost whimpered when she saw Steve’s face, muddy from the dirt on the floor, and what seemed like patches of blood on his clothes.

She was definitely shaking then, and placed her gun on a table that was by the wall to check for a pulse. Her hand can’t seem to focus as she leaned down to hover over him and place it gently over his wrist. When she felt that he’s still alive, she breathed out a sigh of relief.

“I got Steve,” she said into her comms. “He’s alive and we need medical assistance here, now,” she all but growled. Natasha stood up to retrieve her gun and noticed that there was a note on the table. She carefully picked it up, holding in on the edge in case it was evidence.

“‘I’m sorry.. for.. scaring you,’” she read out loud, slowly. “Please forgive me and say… yes?’” she finished reading and frowned. What does that even mean?

Suddenly, there was movement in her peripheral vision and she had her gun in front of her in a second, finger resting on the trigger. The sight in front of her almost led her to drop her gun.

There he was, Steve Rogers, on his knee and sporting a bright smile. He’s holding up an open black velvet box and is staring up at her. Natasha lowered her gun and placed back on the table, glancing down at him with tears shining in her eyes.

“Hey baby, happy second anniversary,” he started, voice cracking. “Natasha Romanoff. I love you so much and I’m sorry about all this,” he said, waving around them. “I know I made you worry and I’m sorry, I can explain later. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” he asked, voice firm but hopeful.

Natasha has tears streaming down her face as she nods, “Yes, Steven Rogers, I will marry you,” she answered shakily and grins at him. He chuckled but it came out more as a breathy sigh of relief as he stood up and slid the ring on her finger. They looked at each other and Natasha pulled Steve down to clash their lips together, her right hand on his cheek and her left hand with the ring clutching his shirt.

Suddenly, there were applause around them. The members of the squad came forward, all grinning and clapping at them. Fury even has his occasional “happy face” on and the rest were cheering for them. Clint, who prides himself as “the one who got them together” winked at Natasha, and Bucky fist pumped. Loki, who has his arm across Darcy’s shoulder, gave them a thumbs up, while Darcy, leaning into Loki’s side with her arm around his waist, was squealing uncontrollably to the point where her eyes disappeared.

After a few more seconds of celebration, Natasha moved back from Steve. “So, care to explain all this?” she asked, voice teasing.

Steve felt himself turn red slightly but cleared his throat, ready to tell her about his plan. “So this morning, I received a call from Fury saying that the Herrera family has a shipment and I need to bust them. So I went with SWAT here and yes, we got them.” he paused, looking at Natasha and the rest of the squad.

“So that was true?” she asked.

Steve nodded. “Yep, it was. That’s why I’m a bit… dirty,” he laughed, looking down at himself. “It got dirty but good thing SWAT came in fast enough and I only got a few hits here and there but I’m good.” he smiled reassuringly, reaching for her hand to squeeze. “So anyways, I looked around. I remember this warehouse. Don’t you?” he asked her.

“Kinda? I don’t know, but I think it looks familiar.” she answered.

“This is where we busted Wang’s cartel two years ago,” he hinted.

Natasha gasped. “Is this where-” she couldn’t finish her question.

Steve smiled and nodded. “This is where we had our first kiss two years ago, and that night, I officially asked you out.” he looked around to see everyone grinning at them. “So here I was, thinking about that and our anniversary, when it dawned on me. Why not propose today? I already have the ring, and I love you and I know you’re the only one for me and vice versa, so I called Fury for a favor.” he turned to Fury and he nodded and smiled.

“Rogers asked me if I could get the ring from his desk drawer and write the note,” Fury let them know.

“Yes, and he got here and I told him about my plan. No one else from the squad knew about this. And that is also why there’s actually no other police here but us,” Steve chuckled sheepishly. “And yeah, that’s how I made it work,” he ended.

Natasha playfully hit him on the shoulder. “You jerk, I thought you were dead,” she said, before hugging him tightly. He could tell that there was still some fear in her from the way she’s holding onto him.

“Hush, baby, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m here and I’m never leaving you and I love you,” he whispered, gently rubbing her back to calm her down.

“I know. I love you too,” Natasha replied, resting her head on his chest and was happy to hear the fast rhythmic thumping on Steve’s chest.

[ladyknightskye]

The 13 Ghosts of Darcy Lewis (6)

Summary: Halloween is one of Darcy’s favorite holidays, but the spooky fun is about to be hijacked. Now, Darcy must traverse a nightmare vision of the Avengers Compound and collect the 13 ghosts of the Avengers before midnight or else the spell will never be broken. However, she’s going to have some mighty monsters to fight - the Avengers themselves.

Author’s Notes: Now we’re all caught up, and the fun really begins. Now it’s down to Pepper and Darcy . . . 

Chapter 6: Bravery (Black)

Characters: Darcy Lewis, Pepper Potts, Psycho!Nick Fury, Vampire!Steve Rogers

Relationships: Darcy Lewis & Pepper Potts, hints of ShieldShock

Warnings: Violence, strong language, and descriptions of blood/blood consumption

           Suffice to say, Darcy and Pepper did not stick around to figure out what was growling at them. Instead, Darcy cried, “Your plan works!” as the two sprinted back to Hill’s house.

           “God I hope I can take him!” Pepper called as she barreled through the front door. Darcy rushed in right after her, even though she knew that Pierce was still hovering right on the porch. An axe-wielding Nick Fury was still preferable to whatever the hell had been growling outside the door. She had the presence of mind at least to not slam the door. Instead she closed it gently. Pepper swung around, looking frantically in every corner.

           Fury was no where to be seen. “Shit,” Darcy murmured, ‘Shit, shit, shit.” It turned into a chant, but Pepper didn’t seem to mind. Under her breath she took it up as well. They were in a house, with an axe-wielding madman, and some sort of growling creature was outside. Darcy didn’t even want to contemplate what had to have been done to the others to make them growl like that. Maybe it was T’Challa and his whole woo-woo Black Panther thing?

           “Shit, shit, shit,” the two women chanted, together as they moved into the kitchen. The front of the house was the living room-dining room area, with the kitchen set off towards the back corner. It was all open concept, however, it was because Hill preferred open sight lines rather than any fad in house layouts. The stairs to the basement where set under the stairs that led up to the second floor. Darcy finally broke the chant. “I think he went back down to the basement.”

           Pepper looked back at her, and held out a hand. “We’re going to be okay, okay? We’re going to be okay.”

           Darcy smiled at the older woman and nodded. “You’re my hero, you know that right?”

           A delicate blush dusted Pepper’s cheeks. “Good to know. I think right now you’re my hero though. You’re really brave, you know that?”

           “I don’t feel like it right now,” she answered, aware that she was one jump scare away from peeing her pants.

           “Bravery isn’t having no fear,” Pepper replied, “It’s being able to function in the face of fear.”

           Darcy gave her a watery smile. “Thanks.”

           “No problem. I’m having to remind myself of that right now. I’m terrified. I am so out of my element, and I’m including that one time I was kidnapped and experimented on.”

           “I, uh, think that’s almost de rigueur for hanging out with Avengers,” Darcy quipped, “I think I’m the only one who hasn’t had someone . . .” She and Pepper shared a look. “Okay, well, I used to be the only one who hadn’t been abducted for God knows what.”

           It was at that point in their warm bonding moment that Nick Fury decided to come barreling back out of the basement. “SHIT!” the two women screamed, jumping opposite directions. Darcy tucked and rolled into the kitchen while Pepper went back into the dining room. Nick went after her, swinging his axe down in a heavy arc. She dodged to the left, swinging a leg to kick at Fury’s legs. For a psycho, he was really light on his feet. Instead of going down hard like Pepper wanted him to, he danced away. She rolled under the table as he swung again, and the broad blade of the axe came down on the table. It didn’t destroy the table, but gave Pepper some time to get up and run back to the kitchen. A pair of French doors opened out from the kitchen, and it looked like Pepper was going for them.

           Darcy scrambled to her feet, and looked around for a weapon. It was all well and good to talk about Pepper distracting Fury while she worried about the ghost, but in practice their plan wasn’t going well at all. She had to help Pepper subdue Fury. She grabbed a chef’s knife from the magnetic strip in the wall, but when she turned to use it, found herself screeching and ducking as an axe whistled towards her head. The weapon clanged into the refrigerator at her back, and her knife skittered away along the floor. The blade cut her hand deep in the flesh at the mound of her thumb. Blood flew as she over compensated and ended up slamming her head into the cabinet under the sink.

           She went down hard, stunned from the blow to her head. She blinked trying to clear her eyes, but to no avail – she could only lay in stunned silence as Fury raised his axe again. She heard Pepper cry out as she closed her eyes, hoping her death would be quick and painless. However, the blade never fell.

           There was the sound of shattering glass and an ungodly roar. Darcy even felt shards pelt her harmlessly as Fury cried out in offended, well, fury. She opened her eyes, scrambling back into the cabinetry as she watched Fury being thrown across the front space by one Steven Grant Rogers. She nearly cried in relief at seeing him. His strong broad shoulders were welcome in this nightmare. Pepper blinked owlishly at him as he turned to look at the woman on the floor in the kitchen. A weird rumbling sound began to fill the space. He took two heavy steps to her, and Darcy blinked again as a few things registered.

           His skin was deathly pale. He was dressed in black leather pants and a blue silk shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the collar was open to reveal the strong column of his throat. He knelt beside her, and picked up her injured hand. He didn’t say a word, but Darcy shivered at the feel of his chilly skin against hers. His hands were still big, strong, gentle, but all the warmth she usually felt from them were gone. He raised her bleeding hand to his mouth, and his tongue darted out in a serpentine manner. It licked along the gash, cleaning blood from her skin. She had yet to look him in the eye, too busy drinking in his simple presence, but now her eyes were drawn up to meet his as he traced esoteric figures on her skin with his tongue. When she met them finally, she felt her chest seize.

           He wasn’t just tracing random patterns into her skin.

           His eyes were red.

           He was licking the blood from her skin and swallowing it.

           He had sharp, elongated canines.

           He was the one rumbling, because he was fucking purring.

           He was purring because he was a goddamn vampire.

           Darcy had never fainted before, but she thought, There’s a first time for everything, as her world faded to black.