#ao3 girlies when the server is down
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summer-blues-stuff · 1 year ago
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romaine2424 · 1 year ago
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Weekly Blog August 30, 2023
Let me say upfront that my personal world is quite small, but that doesn't stop random lightning strikes of 'Oh shit' hitting my household. Yikes. I think things have calmed down once again so I can get back to escapism. LOL
I have been writing and updating. The Azkaban Letters Chapter 12 was posted yesterday. I update every Tuesday. The response has been 'meh' kudos wise, but I have some lovely lovely commenters, which inspires me to push ahead. For anyone who's posted a chapter fic, you know what it means to have a few folks comment on each chapter.
What I've been reading:
I've been reading a lot! Mostly very long fics, but then I hit upon a fest I hadn't heard of before that just ended. @ladiesofhpfest! 16 weeks of themed fics! The theme range goes from Vilenous Vixens to Hedwig's Circle of Divas. Most of the fics are less than 5K. Here's the link to the Master List by Weeks/Themes. The final two weeks have to be added to the list. I know one of them is Week 15: Girly Girls.
I have two three recs from this fest, mind you, I've just started reading the stories.
The first is Sparkling Cyanide (1.4K) by @saintsenara.
Summary: Tom Riddle had nothing to do with the death of Hepzibah Smith. Hokey had just had enough of being a slave.
I have no idea how the author fits so much into 1.4k words. But we learn who Hokey is and how she and those who came before her were mistreated by Hepzibah Smith. That wizards and witches have no idea and don't care to know the rich history of house-elves. And they are oh so clever! Cheer Hokey on as she works around the law that house-elves cannot use their magic to hurt their masters.
The second is Look Like the Innocent Flowers (4.8K) by @midnightstargazer.
Summary: Daphne is silly and superficial, the sort who obsesses over makeup and fashion and knows all the latest gossip. Astoria is fragile and soft-spoken, a delicate flower of a girl. When the Carrows take over Hogwarts, the two sisters appear to be unaffected, indifferent to changes that have little impact on pure-blood Slytherins like themselves. But as the Sorting Hat said, "those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends" - including allowing themselves to be grossly underestimated.
This is a great canon missing moments fic for 7th year. Daphne is very much a Slytherin (as is Astoria). She's made a decision to protect her sister and those that the dark side wants to hurt. We're treated to the beginnings of Astoria/Draco, the subtle communication between Slytherin women, including Narcissa, and how such a beautiful witch can use her wiles and magical powers to help bring down the Dark Lord that most of her house admires.
Oh, and this author also wrote Lily's Cat (sniffle) for the fest. Really sweet.
One more rec, and it's Drarry, and it's a Series, and it's long. I'm guessing that many of you have read the Blood Magic (340K) series by Houseofhebrideanblacks(AO3) and Thestralsofspinnersend(AO3). The series is made up of 3 distinct fics in feel though definitely intertwined. The first fic, A Half-Life, A Cursed-Life (49K) is very tough to read. It takes place quite a few years after the war, and Auror Harry is so so broken. At the very end, though, there is a spark of hope as Healer Draco takes action.
The second fic, The Forest (88K), is my fav. Definitely the balm to ease the pain of the first one. And the third, Misunderstood Creatures (198K) is amazing in love, action, and lore. Truly a great Drarry series that should be on every Drarry fan's list to read.
One note of interest is that the Authors wrote for their character, and it's seamless.
Please remember to give love to these stories! Comments are always appreciated.
Resources:
Today's resource came from @maesterchill on the Main Drarry discord server. The Fic Writer's Guide to Formatting (An AO3 Repository) by @anisaanisa. I cannot tell you how excited I was to finally learn how to do coloured text in AO3 and so many other things! Geez just so happy for this resource.
UpComing Fests of Interest (okay to me):
H/D Kidfic Fest: Prompting is Sept 16th-29th.
H/D Owlpost 2023: Sign-ups Aug 18th - Sept 8th.
Harry Potter Rare Pair Fest IV (@hprarepairfest): Claiming now open!
Oh wow, I think I'm done! Have a great week and remember to have some fun in our lovely fandom!
Rom
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floredaqueen · 11 months ago
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20 Questions for Fic Writers (& Artists)
Tagged by: @buckysgrace 🥺❤️
Disclaimer!! I read ao3 fics, but I'm not able to post or type on the site because I don't have a computer. So everything I speak about will be related to tumblr, I'm SORRY!! ALSO, I will be replacing some answers about fics to art. Thank you, and I hope to see ya sooon♡♡♡
1. How many works do you have on ao3(Tumblr)?
A) I have 4!
2. What's your total ao3 (Tumblr) word count?
A) I don't even know, I don't keep track >///< (I will start doing so though.. at some point..)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
A) Stranger Things and Fargo, and I want to start writing for Bullet Train too!! I'm an action girlie.. and I love a crazy man (Tangerine/Aaron Taylor Johnson). I hope to keep writing for Joe, Dacre, and Aaron.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
A) I only have for 4 fics right now, but the order of the most liked would be Curiosity At First Sight, Mirame, Feeding Time, and A Bud in the Gun! I need to rewrite Pep because I hate the way I started it!
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
A) Yes, I DEFINITELY DO!! I love responding to people. Everyone has been so kind and encouraging, and it's super refreshing to see the positive impact I'm having on these communities. I share my thoughts and expressions! I feel like what I do is purposeful, and I hope it continues!♡
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
A) None yet!
7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
A) All of them end with an uplifting note so far! When I get to Nova and Eddie's story, their's will probably be the most somber.
8. Do you get hate on any fics (Art)?
A) Yes, actually! I usually don't voice my frustrations with it, but I take it as something to learn from! There was this one time where I drew Billy and shared it in a Discord server, and someone freaked out about it. They called him a "child beating racist,". It was as wild as it sounds.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
A) Damn right I do! Most of the smut I write or draw is passionate. Sweet, sometimes sloppy, but overall passionate.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
A) I haven't written one yet, but I would love to! I don't know what I would come up with, but I'm sure it would be fun!!
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
A) No, not yet! But I hope it never happens! If it did, would it be wrong of me to be like, "I'm famous, Mom!!"?
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
A) No, not that I know of?? If people asked, I would translate it! Or try to.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
A) No, I haven't! But I would LOVE TOOOOO!! There are a lot of people i would love to co-write with, but not necessarily good enough yet to be on that level! I really want to, though! So y'know if anyone is down and goated with the sauce... uwu
14. What's your all-time favorite ship?
A) ...probably Mike Ross and Rachel Zane from Suits! If not them, then probably Dick Grayson and Starfire.
15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
A) There's a Steve Harrington fic I'm working on that I'm getting progressively slow at writing! I want to finish it, but it's probably gonna be done by the end of January of next year.
16. What are your writing strengths?
A) I'm very good at synonyms.. also, I'm very good at easing my way into a scene! Also, it's good with coming up with specific scenes, too!
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
A) I'm not good at transitions or dialogue, I always end up repeating myself, and I overthink, so my writing always ends up sloppy or vague.
18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
A) I'm fluent in Spanish, and I love DOING IT! It's fun to keep people guessing or to have them happy or surprised at the meaning. "Mirame," just means look at me.. but with the way my story is centered, it's sensual and gives a romantic connotation behind the relationships of the characters I'm trying to "portray"
19. First fandom you wrote for?
A) Five Nights At Freddy's... no, I will not elaborate! Next Question!♡
20. Favorite fic you've written?
A) So far, I'm proud of A Bud In The Gun! When I look back at it, I'm just happy I was able to portray the grief Chrys was going through the way I did! I hope more people find that one! I know it's starting off slowly, but it's a slow-burn, I swear it'll get better!
Thanks for the tag, Gigi!♡♡
Suggested Tags!!
@imyourdaninow @trinitywifey @heartbreak-sandwich @hg-deranged-edition
At your own risk! Lol♡
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userbadomens · 2 years ago
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it isn’t always what it seems (when you’re face to face with me)
yes i am writing edancy fic please blame the girlies in the joe quinn server. i love u all. mwah. a litte treat for u all. 
read here on ao3 :)
Sitting in Nancy Wheeler’s bedroom is the last place that Eddie Munson ever thought he would end up.
Yet, here he was -- cross legged and sitting on her pristinely made and clean bed, as Nancy digs around her schoolbag for her notes for the class that he’s been so desperately trying to pass. He was a little taken aback when she had offered to tutor him for the class -- he’d been bound and determined to army crawl his way through this class, but she insisted she find a way to help him coast through his final. He almost couldn’t sit still, playing with his hands in his lap, fidgeting as he tries not to get up off of her bed and start poking around. That would be an invasion of privacy… right? His hands press into her comforter, rings glinting under the low light of her lamp, looking even more out of place against her blue and white comforter.
“Calm down, Eddie, the scariest thing in my bedroom is probably me,” Nancy says with a roll of her eyes as she finally fishes out the notes she’d been digging for. “Finally, there they are.”
“Doesn’t mean that I’m not intimidated by the inherent way that your room is nothing like you at all, Wheeler,” he jokes, shrugging a leather clad shoulder. “I mean, it’s very what I thought you would be like, don’t get me wrong. But now that I’ve gotten to know the real Nancy Wheeler? This is nothing like you at all.”
She sits down next to him, crossing her ankles and smoothing any wrinkles out of her skirt that she was wearing as she gives him a pointed look. “And what exactly am I like, Eddie Munson?” He shoots a grin at her, almost in a shit-eating variety.
“Well, you’re a total badass,” he says with a nudge of his shoulder as he continues to grin at her. “I mean, all that shit you did in the Upside Down? I’d never believe that she has a bedroom that looks like this.” He gestures around the bedroom pointedly, looking at her as he lets his hands fall to his lap.
“Just because you say I’m a badass doesn’t mean I can’t like this kind of stuff?” she asks with a shake of her head. “I can be multifaceted. You of all people should understand that, Eddie.” He gives her an almost sheepish look.
“Yeah yeah, we get it, you’re right,” he says with a wave of his hand and a laugh, rolling his own eyes a bit. “Nancy Wheeler, part time badass, full time enjoyer of all things pink.” She rolls her eyes at him, and he just gives her another pointed look, gesturing to the walls. “Who knew someone as inherently badass as you would have pink walls and a Tom Cruise poster?”
“What’s wrong with having a Tom Cruise poster!” she says with a laugh.
“Nothing!” he says, waving his hands in front of his face. “Just seems a little cliche for someone like you.”
“I’ll pretend like that means something,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Now come on, we have studying to do.” Eddie lets out a long groan, flopping back onto her bed, her iron bed frame making a terrible squeaking noise under the weight of him. She gives him an almost appalled look, trying to act like the sight of someone like Eddie Munson in her perfectly crafted bedroom wasn’t as out of place as it actually was.
“Do we have to? I’d much rather berate you about how immaculately clean and perfect your bedroom is,” he says with a grin. “I can’t believe you have a room like this and also have guns in your closet. Plural.” Nancy’s starting to get annoyed by now -- which isn’t a surprise to Eddie whatsoever. He knows that his personality can be incredibly grating, sure. Why else would he have no friends when he’s so inherently charming?
“If you don’t stop fooling around and actually try to learn something, you’re securing yourself a one way trip out of my house,” she warns, brandishing flash cards in his direction. He laughs a little, putting his hands up in front of his face almost as a defense mechanism as he sits back up.
“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ, don’t threaten a Wheeler with a gun,” he says with a laugh and a grin. She narrows her eyes at him, and he puts his hands up in defense again. “I’m kidding, Nancy, jesus. We can study, we can study. You’re the one who’s so hellbent on me passing this class.”
“I don’t think they’re going to let you come back for a fourth time if you fail again, Eddie,” she says, her face serious. “This is your life, you know? You and Steve both, I don’t understand why you slack off and don’t just do what’s best for your future.” She huffs a little, visibly frustrated over it, and Eddie just shrugs, gaze still on her as he tries to read her expression.
“Well, I can’t speak for Harrington, but for me, it’s not like having a future is something I was born to have,” he says with a shrug. “I mean, my old man’s in jail for a long list of reasons, and everyone always said I was gonna take after him. Who says they’re not wrong? Hell, almost ended up like my mom when we were in the upside down. At least I have some gnarly scars to prove it.” Nancy’s face falls a little, and Eddie immediately backpedals. “Hey, don’t give me that look. It’s okay! I’m all good! Don’t be sorry for me. I’m okay.”
“I just didn’t know, I--”
“Hey, don’t start apologizing to me, Wheeler,” he says, nudging her with his shoulder and a shake of his head. “It happened a long time ago. I’m okay. Really. Promise.” He reaches over and plucks the notecards out of her hands with ease, and she opens her mouth almost to protest, like she thinks he’s going to toss them aside. He starts rifling through them, shaking his head a little bit. “I think you were right to have me over to study, I don’t get any of this.” Her face softens a little, and she rolls her eyes as she snatches them back from him.
“Then let’s get to learning, Munson,” she says, gently whacking him with the notecards as she smiles in his direction. He groans a little, but obliges, sitting up a little straighter as he looks over in her direction.
“Fine, fine, hit me with your best shot, Wheeler,” he says with his own grin. “Teach me all about math. I’m but a blank canvas for you to fill with your everflowing knowledge.” She rolls her eyes a little bit before pulling out her first flashcard and going on a tangent about math, and Eddie does his best to listen, to absorb as much of the information as he can.
They spend the evening going over all the material, Eddie mostly dumbfounded but asking a lot of questions, and Nancy trying to make damn sure he understands the material at least a little better than when he stepped over the threshold of the Wheeler residence earlier that evening. Despite Eddie constantly trying to derail them, and getting easily distracted, they managed to cover the material in a somewhat timely manner, and Eddie was out the door before it was even dinnertime. (Mrs. Wheeler tried to convince him to stay, but he politely declined, much to Mike’s disappointment. He didn’t understand why Eddie wanted to come over and see his sister and not him. He was clearly the cooler of the two Wheeler siblings.)
She sends him off with her note cards, wanting to make sure he had everything he might need to study for the test the next morning. He pauses at her doorstep when she leads him out, smiling at her, a little more reserved than the rest of the evening.
“Thanks again for taking the time to go over all of this with me,” he says, his tone genuine. “No one’s really ever tried to help me with school before, you know? So… I really appreciate it, Nance. Really.” Nancy tries to hide the way her cheeks warm, looking down at the ground a little as she shrugs a bit.
“Hey, what else are friends for, right?” she says with a slight shrug. Eddie’s smile turns into a full on grin, arms crossed over his chest as he looks her over.
“Does this mean that we’re friends now, Wheeler?” he says with a laugh. She laughs herself, shrugging again as she sets her hands on her hips.
“We have shared trauma, I think we have to be now,” she explains. He lets out a little ‘oh’ before laughing again, clapping a hand on her shoulder as he grins at her one more time.
“Well, my friend, I will see you tomorrow, hopefully after I’ve passed this test,” he says, holding the note cards up again. “Pray for me Wheeler, I’m gonna need it!” He drops his hands before turning on his heel, and Nancy leans against the doorframe of her house, watching him go and trying to ignore any residual funny feelings bubbling up in her chest before heading back inside.
Maybe there was something about Eddie Munson that seemed just right to her. Just maybe.
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emptymasks · 5 years ago
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wilford validates you being a cute boy // wilford warfstache x reader
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So How About That Date? ( A Heist With Markiplier x Reader Collection [SFW])
Pairing: Trans! Wilford x Trans-male!/Genderfluid! Reader
Words: 1300
Rating: General Audiences
Read on Ao3
Tags: Comfort | Fluff | POV Second Person | Pet Names | Tooth-Rotting Fluff | Gender dysphoria
Notes (more notes at the end): something completely self-indulgent because i needed to hear this said to me because i'm worrying a lot about it
basically i wanna feel cute today but still be a guy and i think the ultimate 'you can be a guy and wear cute shit and pink and not be crazy masculine' advocate is wilford
Gender was frustrating.
There were so many rules and expectations being put on how you had to act if you were a boy or a girl, and then if you weren't either if you still had to be masculine or feminine or if you weren't allowed to be either. It was so stupid. You knew you were a boy, you knew you were... It was just hard to think that when you were just in such a mood to be, well, cute. You just wanted to throw on something baby blue or pink, some pride wristbands, hell if you were feeling incredibly brave and carefree maybe even a skirt, maybe even make-up? Perhaps not that much but, you couldn't explain why but you just wanted to look cute.
But that wasn't allowed, was it? You're identifying as male, so therefore you should have to want to be masculine? If anyone else told you they were feeling that way you'd tell them of course not, being a boy isn't about feeling or wanting to be masculine, and being a girl isn't about feeling or wanting to be feminine... But you're not talking to someone else... you're talking to you and that advice just feels stale on your tongue when you apply it to yourself.
You stand looking at yourself in the mirror. It'd be so easy to just grab something out of your wardrobe, it's not like you didn't own cute and pastel clothes. Wilford had bought some of them for you (he liked you to match colours sometimes, it was adorable) and some of them were from before... before you realised your gender, and you still thought they were cute. It would be so easy just to not care whether anyone else thought you were male... It's not like you were planning on even going out anywhere, you just at least wanted to feel nice inside your own home but...
"You in here, sugarplum?"
Oh no Wilford was back and he was going to see you getting all worked up.
"You okay?" He stopped in the doorway, squinting at you and looking you up and down. "You're just sorta... standing there."
"It's nothing, Will," You bit your lip and turned away from the mirror.
"Now, don't give me that, look at you. What is it?" He demeanor shifted. "Did someone hurt you?" You could feel the danger radiating off him.
"No, no, it's nothing like that," You reach out to touch him, your palms sliding on his chest. Physical contact always seemed to calm him down and ground him. "I just... I was thinking..."
"Ah, well, that's a dangerous thing to be doing."
"Yeah," You blew out a laugh. "I was thinking about me... being a boy and all, and I just... I felt like looking cute."
"Okay...?" He blinked down at you and cocked his head to the side. "Am I missing something?"
"Well... I'm a boy, I'm male, people already look at me and don't see a boy and now I want to dress in cute colours and stuff and so that makes it kind of definitive that no one will see me as male, because I won't look masculine enough..."
You bowed your head and didn't look up at Wilford. He didn't go into stoic silences often and you could feel your anxiety churning in your gut.
"Sweetness, you do know who you're talking to right? Look at me," You didn't move and he tilted your chin. "Am I at all stereotypically masculine?"
You looked at him. There was still pink hair dye lingering at the ends of his hair, which was flopping into his right eye, and covering meticulously maintained moustache. He had a pink button-up shirt rather than his usual yellow, with suspenders that bore the trans pride flag colours in their stripes connecting to pale blue trousers. He almost ruined the look by wearing those ridiculous, pink crocs.
"Okay so... not typically masculine colours, but you look good in them. You still like... The way you carry yourself and your voice and everything," You insisted.
"Well, as flattered as I am, that all took time you know, I'm sure you could master it if you worked at it, but just because you think I'm... passing better than you, doesn't mean you're doing it wrong. There's no wrong way to be you," He stroked his hands over your head. "Who are you trying to convince, hm? Who's opinion is bothering you? Because I'll have you know, cupcake, most people are idiots so it really doesn't matter what they think."
You buried your head into his shirt. "Was worried about what you'd think," You mumbled into the fabric.
Suddenly there were hands on your shoulders, pushing you back so that Wilford could see all of you. "What nonsense are you coming out with now? Why would it matter in the slightest to me?"
You looked at the floor. "Because you're hardly going to see me as your boyfriend if I look like a girl." You shifted your weight, you were not going to cry.
"Since when does wearing pink make you a girl? And even if the point is you want to look girly or feminine, why would you think that I...? You know we're in the same boat, sugar, but do I look like I'm letting what clothing people think is 'masculine' stopping me from wearing whatever I feel like?"
You shook you head.
"Right," His hands left you. "What do we have then?"
You looked up and he was rummaging through your wardrobe.
"What are you doing?" You asked.
"Finding you something cute to wear. You'll look absolutely, delectably, adorable." He turned and grinned at you and you finally started feeling more at ease as a blush tinted your cheeks.
Some of Wilford's fashion choices baffled you, but at least he knew what colours went together. There wasn't that many pieces to go through, and he held each one up to you, turning his head this way and that way, checking with you if you were comfortable wearing each item. Seeing as you didn't feel confident enough to go out he decided on something comfortable and lazy, a pair of pale pink leggings and an oversized white sweater that had a rainbow pastel rainbow stripe stretching from just under one armpit to the other. It buried you when you put it on and Wilford made the most ridiculous 'aww' or cooing sound which he assured to be because he was just so besotted with how sweet you looked.
"The finishing touch," He said as his hands brushed around your neck and he fastened on a baby pink choker. It had a metal charm of a flower, with pink stones in the petals and a white one in the centre, dangling from the centre just above the hollow of your throat. "Do you feel as cute as you look, honeybun?"
Your face heated up at the pet name, it always did every time he used one, and you managed to get yourself to nod. It was a pretty cute outfit, there was just still that worry of looking like a boy. You told yourself Wilford was right, it just mattered what you felt like not what you looked like, and he'd know, he'd been down this road just as you had.
"What do you think?" You asked tentatively, but smiling as you already knew the answer unless it had changed from the compliments he'd been giving you seconds ago."
"I think that I am incredibly lucky to have such a cute boyfriend," He leaned around to plant a kiss on your cheek, moustache tickling your skin. "I think I'm going to have to dress you up more often."
You think you'd let him as well.
Tag list: @thehalfdemonwitchfromamestris​ @rats-this-username-is-taken​​ @hamiltrash1411​​ @line-viper​​ (let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for my ahwm fics, also let me know if you want to be taken off the tag list)
More notes:
so listening to kirby music playlists and 'in love with a ghost' is a total mood for being in this headspace of wanting to feel cute, but also being around wilford. could super recommend chill with kirb ~ 【lofi mix カービーミックス】
big thanks to himbo in the @yancy-support-group​ server for inspiring me to also make wilford trans in this and for giving me the cursed idea of putting him in crocs.
and if you guys could please help me out and and reblog this promo post for the heist charms, stickers and pins i'm making and selling that would mean the world! there's also the link in there to my Etsy shop where you can buy them plugging that again because i need moneys
also if you want to see the heist art i keep drawing you can follow me on instagram and twitter
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momentofroggie · 6 years ago
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Spike To The Heart CH 1
You can read it here on AO3
Words: 2.5K
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Peter flinches and mutters a curse that echoes around the shower’s walls. The water is boiling hot to the touch. The boy’s surprised it didn’t burn him. He quickly turns the knob of the shower. It reaches a bearable temperature and he begins to wash the grime away. It’s an early morning in Queens, the sunrise peaking through the blinds of the bathroom window, illuminating Peter’s milky skin. The soap on his chest and arms glimmer like a mineral sliced in half. The young boy hums a tune as he scrubs his scalp, shampoo dripping down the back of his neck. He’s erupted by his peaceful shower with a few bangs on the door.
“Peter, hurry up! You’ll be late for the third time this week.” Aunt May calls from the other side. Peter shouts a lackluster “okay” and rinses himself off, cutting his heavenly time short. He steps out and quickly dries himself off. He changes into dark blue boxers, black jeans that hug him in all the right places, and an oversized Midtown School of Science sweatshirt. He brushes his hair and teeth, trying his best to make himself looks presentable. He rushes down the hall to slip on his black vans and sling on his backpack. Aunt May shuffles over and plants a kiss on his forehead.
“Have a great day, Petey. Have your clothes for after school?” Her eyes glimmer with compassion.
“Of course, how could I forget?”
“Be home by eight. Love you.” Peter says it back and before May can take another breath, he’s out the door trampling down the stairs. Today was the first day of volleyball tryouts. Peter has been on school and community teams since middle school. It was his drive and passion. The adrenaline rush of chasing after the ball, feeling it bounce off your forearms, and sliding to your knees to save the volleyball as it’s merically spiked over the net is enough to get Peter coming back for more. He usually played Libero, his favorite position. He was usually the first one to touch the ball once it got over the net. Yelling “mine” and sending the ball who-knows-how-many feet into the air is his favorite part. Also the uniforms. Long sleeve blue and white shirts, black spandex, and knee pads. They’re comfortable and mildly exposing. MJ always jokes that he wears the uniform the best, that it fits him like a vacuum sealed bag. Ned always shook his head in disgust while Peter laughs and nods in thanks.
Peter picks up the pace of his steps as he looks at the time on his phone. 10 minutes before the late bell. Shit. As soon as Peter steps foot into his classroom the bell rings in his ears. He flops down into his seat next to Ned who flashes him a quick smile. Peter wipes the slight sweat accumulating on his hairline. He hears MJ scoff from behind. He whips his head back and raises a confused eyebrows, his puppy eyes locking with Mary’s chocolate ones.
“Nice of you to show up.” MJ grins before continuing. “Your fly is down.”
Peter blubbers and zips his fly. The day goes by slow. All Peter can think about is tryouts. He’s been on the varsity team since freshman year. He doesn’t mean to brag but he thinks he’s pretty damn good. Maybe he could even make it as a captain, even though he’s only a junior. He’s heard word from one of his fellow teammates, Steve, that this year is gonna be real competitive for varsity.
“I heard some of the freshman coming up are kinda powerful. Wade Wilson is one of them.” Steve stops to chug his carton of chocolate milk. “Has a mighty serve. Could take someone’s head off.”
Bucky rolls his eyes from across the lunch table. He’s the best server on the team and one of the best in the state. He murmurs something about believing it when he sees it and goes back to eating his sandwich. Bucky and Steve are the toughest players on the team. They played freshman football until Peter convinced them to do volleyball instead. It’s been history ever since. Peter looks even more lanky and soft compared to the two bulky lumberjack looking men.
“Anyone else?” Peter mumbled through bits of apple. Steve shrugs and looks at Bucky, who’s mouth is twisted to the side. Steve straightens up and his eyes go wide.
“Thor’s brother! Jesus, what’s his name-“ He stammers while snapping his fingers, squinting his eyes shut in thought.
“Loki.” Peter looks up to see Thor standing over the table. His muscular arms straining against his black tshirt as he sets his tray down. “I tried to convince him to do football with me. Volleyball is for girls.”
Peter, Steve and Bucky all groan in sync at that comment. Thor gives a cheeky smirk in response. Thor’s the quarterback of the football team. It would take ten men to take him down, let alone three to move him. He was strong and quick on his feet. Some say he could make it to a national team if he committed. Despite being handsome and athletic, his brains certainly lack.
“There’s nothing wrong with playing a “girly” sport, doofus.” Bucky spat back. “In volleyball, you actually have to use your head instead of ramming it into people’s stomachs.”
Thor chuckled at the brunette’s comment, looking up from his lunch to lock eyes with him. He shook his head and looked down once more. “Whatever you say. I just think Loki would do better with football, that’s all.”
“But Loki isn’t as bulky as you,” Peter pipes up, “He would get a concussion before the first game ended.”
“It’s all part of the fun.” Thor shrugs and finishes his sandwich within three bites. Bucky shakes his head and stands up, tray in hand. He greets everyone goodbye and exits the canteen. Steve quickly does the same, leaving Peter and Thor on opposite ends of the round table. Peter looks down shyly. Thor has always intimidated him, his piercing blue eyes and his rugged figure was enough to send shivers up Peter’s spine. “Don’t tell the others this, but I think you’re the only one who ain’t half bad at the whole volleyball thing.”
Peter felt blush creep up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Thanks, Thor. Bet you already know how good you are at football..”
The bell rings as Thor opens his mouth. Peter scurries away before he can hear what Thor has to say. The rest of the afternoon seems to go by even slower. It leaves Peter staring at the clock all through AP Physics. When the bell finally chimes once more, he practically sprints to the locker room. There he sees familiar faces. Steve, Bucky, Scott, Sam, Clint. But he also sees new faces. A boy with black hair down to his shoulders with a sharp yet welcoming face. Another boy with brown eyes and brown hair and a killer body. His chest plastered with abs and meaty pecs. Peter tries his best not to stare.
Peter changes into a pair of black spandex, a white pizza pi tshirt, knee pads, and black Nike sneakers. Most boys on the volleyball team don’t wear spandex for practice, they usually wear basketball shorts or even sweats some days. Not Peter, he likes the feeling of spandex. The free breeze around his thighs and the squeaking of his legs as they hit the gym floor. He spots Steve and Bucky waiting out for him outside the locker room and they head to the gym. The nets are set up and boys are already warming up. Some are playing pass over the net while others are serving to each other from across the gym.
Something doesn’t feel right though. Peter can’t spot coach Banner. He’s usually there greeting his future team players by the double gym doors. Instead, it’s another man. An attractive man for that matter. He has brown hair with gray locks whipped up into a quiff. Chocolate brown eyes that make you melt like ice cream in July. A scratchy looking beard and mustache covers his cheeks and chin. This isn’t coach Banner. Definitely not.
“Who the hell is that?” Steve’s boisterous comment breaking Peter’s world of fantasy. Peter shakes his head and shrugs.
“No idea. New coach maybe?” Peter squeaks, eyes trailing down the mystery man’s body. He’s incredibly fit. He’s wearing a track suit jacket, the material hugging at his biceps. His sweatpants however hide his presumably muscular legs, but leaving nothing to the imagination around his crotch. Peter gulps. This season could be interesting.
Steve, Bucky, and Peter go to a corner of the gym with a volleyball. They play pass but Peter can’t seem to focus. He keeps glancing over at the man, scratching at his beard and writing on a clipboard.
“Peter, you go!” Steve calls out, serving the ball. Peter shouts a slightly incoherent “I go!” While swooping his arms under the ball sending it flying into the air. He glances over and him and the man make eye contact. The man sends a warm grin and looks down at the board in his hands. Although what he did was simple, he felt a sense of pride and triumph for what he did. That is until the ball fell between his feet. Bucky laughed.
“Peter, dude, the ball was right there. Pay attention.” Peter rolled his eyes, flushing with embarrassment.
“I know, I’m sorry.” Peter served the ball to Bucky a little too hard. Whether it was intentional or not he’ll never figure out. They continue to pass the ball to each other until they hear the whistle. They jog to the middle, kids separated between the nets. They try their best to surround the coach despite that. The man can feel the teens gawk at him, but regains his composure.
“Hello gentlemen. I am your new coach, Mr. Stark. You can just call me Coach Stark if you wish. Mr. Banner and his wife are expecting, so he will not be able to coach your team this year. However, I promise you I’ll do my best to give you the most successful season yet. Before we can even think about that, let’s start with tryouts.” Mr. Stark stumbles around the circle, steps slow and thoughtful.
“There will be three teams. Freshman, JV, and Varsity. Freshman team is self explanatory, but just because you’re a freshman doesn’t mean you’ll be on freshman team. You could possibly do better or not make a team.” Tony chuckles. He watches boys, assuming they’re the freshman, look around wearily. The boy with the long black hair looks like he’s going to be sick.
“JV is junior varsity. Usually underclassmen are on this team and of course theres varsity. I hope you’re all a competitive bunch, it makes it funner; even makes me job harder.” Tony shines a grin that could outshine the sun. “Enough talking. Everyone up for warmups.”
“He seems determined.” Bucky said with a sheepish grin.
“But is he prepared?” Steve replies, jogging to the side of the gym everyone was meeting on.
“He likes a good competition. We’re the ones who should be prepared, especially for me.” Scott gleams while stretching his calves. Clint rolls his eyes while cracking his knuckles. Peter stays silent, desperately trying to focus on the sport.
“Alright boys. Jog, lunge, windmills, jog, skip, and sprint. Let’s go.” Tony barked with a blow of a whistle.
—-
Sweat dribbles down Peter’s back and chest. Some of his once fluffy hair is matting to his forehead. His forearms are turning red from the impact of the volleyballs plummeting at him over the net. His heartbeat and breath is all he can hear.
“This is the last serve, Steve.” Tony shouted from the other side of the net. “Spike it. Show me what you got.”
Steve nodded and threw the ball up. His hand smacked against it, making a sonic boom level of a sound. The smack echoed in Peter’s ears. He dived down onto his knees, sliding onto his belly as the ball bounces off of his forearms. It goes over the net, perfectly landing into Steve’s hands.
“Excellent work, uh, Parker! Yes, Parker.” Tony howls. Peter shakily stands up and nods in thanks. Tony blows his whistle, dismissing the boys. “Come to practice tomorrow, 2PM sharp, all of you.”
Peter jogs to the locker room. Soon, the changing room fills with conversations. About practice, how raw their forearms and knees were, and Coach Stark. Peter looks over to Bucky with his hand on the boy with the long hair’s shoulder. He looks shaken and tired.
“You did a great job today, Loki! You’re a better athlete than your brother.” Bucky boomed. Loki chuckled and looked down at his shiny sneakers. Peter smiles to himself and hops in the shower, lazily rinsing himself off. He could stay in the shower forever, but definitely not here. He dries himself off and changes back into his old school clothes. When he strolls out of the locker room, Steve is waiting for him.
“Mind if I walk you home?” Steve smiles and holds out his hand. Peter rolls his eyes and reluctantly grabs his hand.
“Whatever, dork.”
They walk out into the mild mid September air. The sunset illuminates the yellow taxis and brick buildings. At first they walk in silence, listening to the horns and passing chatters of people. Until Steve speaks up.
“Loki’s good. Like, really good.” Peter nods, not really caring to know who’s good and who’s not.
“Yeah, well, his brother is Thor after all.” Steve nods nervously.
“Bucky seems to be impressed.” He huffs under his breath. Peter shoves his hands into his pocket and furrows his eyebrows. “It takes a lot to impress him.”
“Why does it matter? You’ll make varsity, with Loki playing or not.” Peter scoffs, nothing touching the fact that Bucky is impressed. He knows Steve has always liked Bucky in more than a friendly nature. If he ever tells Steve he has a clue, his head would blow off to the moon.
“You’re right.” Steve mutters. They walk in silence until they reach Peter’s complex. Peter waves goodbye and walks up the steps to the door. However, something compels him and he looks back to see Steve still standing there.
“You gonna go home?” Peter utters.
“What do you think of the new coach?”
Peter pauses for a moment. “He’s alright, Go home, Rogers.”
Peter pushes open the door and leans up against it. He runs his hands through his damp hair and smiles. For the first time in a while, he’s looking forward to going to school tomorrow.
@winter-starker @imgonnadiebutohwell @whisperingstarkers @plueschpop @ironspiderkid @darker-soft-starker @tonyhstarks
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antimyass · 6 years ago
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Natasha X MJ Headcanons
So there’s so little content on AO3 about this ship and I can’t let that stand so I’m gonna write some headcanons and one shots for this ship.
My writings shit and I’m also typing this while half asleep so here are my head canons.
-So this all began after MJ was is a bank robbery that Peter stopped with Tony. Most people were evacuated but MJ was being held hostage by the robber. Tony called for back up because this wasn’t a simple robbery but it involved alien tec. Nat shoot the robber who’s holding MJ hostage in the head and shields her from the blood.
-MJ is taken to the compound and peter “reveals” himself. MJ already knew but it’s MJ and she’s not gonna outright say she knows. However, during this reveal she’s still kinda in shock from being a hostage at gun point. Natasha is holding her in her arms and is just basically being a stuffie.
- This is clearly not how MJ want one of her role models to see her and get very upset with herself later down the line. Peter because of his internship, aka tony, is at the compound a lot more frequently. MJ uses this to her advantage. She partners with him for a class and uses that to go to the compound.
- Whenever she visits she always tries to look her best. Do her best and not take ‘no’ from peter or any of the males. Exceptions do exist however. This catches the eye of Natasha.
- Natasha always ‘liked’ MJ. She was good for her little spider, Peter, and very much understands her place. However, she doesn’t really “like” her until she sees her on a war path.
- What happened was Peter, and Clint had decided to do fuck all and hide in the vents to avoid work. For Clint this is normal. For Peter not so much. After a bit of looking she finds Pete stuck in a vent. And rips him out and nags at him a little. I’m a joking manner but still conveying the message... ‘Don’t do this bull shit again.’
- Nats really impressed Peter actually listened and her small little crush blooms.
- Meanwhile, MJ has been platonic crushing for YEARS. After meeting Nat it’s only gotten romantic and worse. Not that she really shows it.
-They finally get together when MJ turns 19 and is visiting the compound during a break from university. MJ acidentally confesses after her 10th glass of wine. Peter laughs at them. Nat hugs her and confesses too.
-After this MJ visits at least twice a month. Most of the the time they spend together is Nat training her how to fight and MJ showings and doing semi girly things. Think nails, practical hairstyles and gossiping about the boys.
- MJ is content for a while but she wants to go on real dates and hang out with girlfriend more often. This motivates her to work double time and get her degree in less than 2 years. She’s a genius so it’s no problem.
- While nats cooked meals for Mj before they’ve never really had a ‘date night’. Nat books a nice chain restaurant down by MJ’s university. Something like a Boston Pizza or a milestones. Something not overwhelming right off the bat.
- MJ and Nat both think dresses are unnecessary and wear comfortable but semi fashionable outfits. They accidentally match and it’s cute.
- Matching outfits or close to matching outfits are frequently when they go out after that and it’s adorable.
-Natasha is the big spoon on most nights.
- HOWEVER, when Nat has nightmares about the red room she is held by MJ. MJ tried to wake her up sometimes but only if she feels safe doing so. If Natasha wakes up she doesn’t want to share very often. The red room isn’t something you spring on a civilian.
- MJ is less touchy than Nat. Nat loves to hold MJ, cuddle and generally be more hands on. Only in private though.
- On date nights they often look like friends meeting up for dinner and not a couple having a date night. This has caused issues before. Mostly rude servers hitting on them or worse if they go out to the bar drunk dude trying to hit on them.
- Let’s just say arms have been broken.
- Natasha prefers staying at MJs to the compound. No FRIDAY interrupting them.
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quiveringbunny · 7 years ago
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Making Merry - An Olicity Holiday Story (G - 3/3)
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Well, here I am, a bit late with the final chapter of this fluffy holiday meringue. I do hope you are entertained by the resolution. 
Many thanks to everyone who encouraged me along on this one with comments and kudos. Extra hugs to the world’s most overqualified beta @tinaday3w for being awesome in every possible way.
(Ao3 Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3)
Chapter 3: The Aftermath 
It was well-after midnight when Felicity finally finished her work. She had stopped the service attack on the SCPD, strengthened security measures, and written up a situation report. She also managed to trace the ne’er-do-well to a server in Russia. Fracking Bratva. Every so often, some guy had to show off to his boss by breaching an American network. Trying to have the offender arrested by Moscow police would be a wasted effort, but Felicity did manage to forward the hacker’s IP address to Interpol’s Cybercrime division as well as a couple of European white hat hackers she knew who liked to dabble in law enforcement.
She wasn’t tired in the least, but rather feeling a bit overstimulated from the rush of problem-solving she had engaged in. The thought of going straight home and dwelling on her botched date with Oliver Queen was more than she could bear. They had exchanged texts around 10 pm. He said he hoped her night was going okay. She sent back a hurried string of anxious looking emojis punctuated with panda bears. He responded with a thumbs up. So much for an evening of holiday romance.
In an effort to embrace her epic wallowing, Felicity decided to find a bar and have a drink before heading home. She engaged a Lyft driver to take her to Poison, Max Fuller’s notorious watering hole, but on the way, they passed Verdant. She recalled that Oliver had a connection to the club. Deciding that if she couldn’t see him, she could at least drown her sorrows somewhere associated with him, she asked the driver to amend their route at the last minute. A hefty tip was added to the final bill.
Felicity had never been inside what some of her police cohorts referred to as “The Jewel of the Glades” before. It was pretty impressive. Spacious and colorful. A solid crowd of smartly-dressed people from Central Casting filled the place. The sound system was quite good. When the early notes of a popular song played, a number of people fled the bar areas to fill the dance floor and Felicity took the opportunity to find a stool at a bar near the back of the space.
The bartender was drying barware when she sat down. He nodded to her, finished a glass and then leaned forward with a nod.
“What can I make for you, Beautiful?” His face was made for smiling, she thought. That was a good quality in a bartender.
“Do you have a blender?”
He looked genuinely contrite. “Sorry, I do not.”
Felicity’s face fell. So much for submerging herself in a super-girly frozen pina colada.
“How about I make you one of my super mojitos. Sweet and minty. Or maybe a chocolate martini.”
“Are there nuts? Because I can’t have those. I’ll look like a balloon in the Macy’s Parade and then I’ll die.”
“No nuts.” He raised his fingers in the Boy Scout salute.
“Can you make a chocolate martini a double?” She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips at the end of the question.
“I’ll take care of you.” His voice was warm and understanding before he turned away to gather the magical ingredients he needed to soothe his forlorn customer.
While he worked, Felicity spun her seat around a couple of times before stopping to watch the people. The happy people. They were moving together to the beat, almost like water swirling in a pool and it was mesmerizing. She was distracted by it until the bartender placed a drink in front of her with a flourish.
“Here you go,” he announced. “One Mega Chocolate Martini. Guaranteed to help you forget whatshisname.”
Felicity dropped her head into her folded arms.
“Oh God. It’s that obvious.” She looked up to meet the bartender’s eyes. They were nice, but they weren’t Oliver’s eyes. God, she was so pathetic.
“I am so, so lame,” she continued, then raised the drink to her lips and took a deep draw while the mixologist looked on with curiosity.
“He’s a scoundrel and he doesn’t deserve you.” The bartender didn’t say it in a flirty way. He said it like a brother might say it, she thought. Nice. She didn’t have a brother. But if she did, she would want one who could make a chocolate martini like the one that was currently seducing her taste buds and dulling the sharp ache in her brain.  
Felicity shook her head. “Nope. He’s wonderful. And amazing. It’s me. I blew it. We had a date and I blew it.” Felicity took another draw on the glass. “You know, Chocolate is the only edible substance that melts around 93° degrees, just below our human body temperature. That’s why chocolate melts so easily in your mouth.”
The man squelched a smile.
“What could somebody as cute as you do to ruin a date with Mister Wonderful and Amazing?”
“I had to cancel. Really last minute. Work. Stupid Russian mob.”
The bartender looked on her with curiosity, then observed as she downed the rest of the martini in several gulps, then planted the empty glass on the bar
“Keep ‘em coming, Barkeep.”
The man nodded and resigned to look after this one. She was on her own and obviously having a bad night. No need to see it get worse.
Tommy Merlyn liked to work behind the bar occasionally. It was good to experience the club from a service perspective. It allowed him insight into the current customer base. He didn’t mind the fact that people really did look for consolation in the counsel of a bartender. Tommy wasn’t exactly a wise man, but he was a good listener, which was often times all the other person needed.
Tommy continued to make the sad blonde drinks, albeit progressively weaker ones, for nearly an hour. Eventually, he offered a glass of water to help reduce the pain that was likely to come the next day. When another bartender arrived to relieve him, Tommy moved to the other side of the bar and sat with her for a while.
On her third martini, Tommy finally learned her name. Suddenly, everything made sense. That morning, he met his best friend at the gym to collect his truck and the man was smiling. So many teeth. It was disconcerting, really. Tommy pressed for an explanation and was rewarded with a ten-minute book report on a woman. She was brilliant and funny and unpredictable and remarkable. Oliver Queen never described a woman as remarkable in his whole life. So, he made a point to file away her name for future reference. Felicity Smoak.  
>--->
The sound of the doorbell caused Oliver to wake suddenly and roll off the sofa in the den of the Queen Mansion. He had fallen asleep in front of the fire a couple of hours earlier and it was only embers now. It was 2:30 in the morning and he immediately felt dread overtaking his initial annoyance at the situation. Bad news was often delivered at this ungodly hour. He tugged the hoodie around his t-shirt and lounge pants and trudged to the foyer.
Nothing prepared him for the sight, really. There in the doorway stood his best friend with a ridiculous grin and his arms full of…
“Tommy!” Oliver gasped as his best friend moved past him to enter the grand foyer.
“Shh. Please assure me this slumbering princess is the correct Felicity. The one you were mooning over this morning. Because if she isn’t, this was a gross miscalculation on my part.”
“Of course it is. What happened to her?” Oliver’s voice was louder now. The sight of Felicity looking slightly disheveled, her purse piled in her lap as she rested in Tommy’s arms was very disconcerting.
“Down boy.” Tommy gave him a pointed stare. “She’s just sleeping it off.”
Oliver scrubbed his face with his palms. He was still waking up, really, and his brain was trying to make sense of the situation.
“Where do you want her?” Tommy asked blithely. With more thought, he corrected himself. “I mean, where should I carefully place your girl?”
“Sofa in the den. I’ll get blankets.” On that, Tommy headed for the Queen Mansion’s only casually appointed room and Oliver bounded up the stairs to fetch what was needed to make his guest comfortable.  
When Oliver returned, several blankets and pillows bundled in his arms, he found Felicity still sleeping on the sofa and Tommy in a leather chair. He had stoked the fire, sourced the scotch, and had a tumbler in hand. Another glass was set on a table next to a matching chair, presumably poured for his host.
The room was warming up again. The fire blazed and crackled in the hearth. The flames reflected off the modest-sized, beautifully appointed Christmas tree twinkling with white lights that filled one corner. It was one of four trees in the house. There was another in the Great Room next to the foyer, and both Oliver and Thea’s rooms had trees as well, as was the tradition.
Oliver carefully placed a soft, warm blanket over Felicity, taking a moment to study her face and assure himself that she was okay. He actually tucked her in, eliciting a snort from Tommy. Oliver shot him a glare and returned to smooth the blanket. Finally convinced the lady was in a deep and comfortable sleep, he plopped himself in his chair and grabbed the drink that was waiting for him.
“Okay, you want to tell me what happened?” He kept his voice quiet and even, so he wouldn’t disturb her.
Tommy took a swig of liquid and snorted. “All the gin joints in all the world and she shows up in mine. Ours.”
Oliver shook his head in disbelief and waited for a deeper explanation.
“I thought at first it was some kind of post-work, post-crisis thing and the woman needed to unwind, but she was just really sad. Fate brought her to me, I guess. And so I bring her to you.”
“Tommy, she’s a person, not an offering. Wait, sad?”
“Yeah, apparently she had a hot date tonight she wasn’t able to keep. Felt terrible about it.”
Tommy’s lips curled into a smirk as Oliver nodded and hinted at a smile. He was sorry she was so disappointed about what had happened, but he couldn’t help but feel happy knowing it had meant something to her. He meant something, perhaps?
“Good. I mean, it’s good you were there. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. She may have imbibed her weight in chocolate martinis…that I made for her.”
Oliver threw Tommy an exasperated glance. Tommy Merlyn shrugged.
“Hey, it was what the grown-up lady wanted. And Ms. Smoak assured me she wasn’t driving. Then she started waning and kind of fell asleep on the bar. I looked in her purse...just for ID, and her address was there. I thought about taking her home, but I was worried she would be alone when I left her there. So, I figured you were good for hangover nurse duty in the morning.”
Oliver sighed, signaling that he now understood.
“Of course. I’m glad you brought her here. It was the right thing. I’ll look after her.”
Tommy Merlyn affected a whisper now. “By the way, she may or may not work for the Russian mob. I'm not sure. She was kind of wasted. Anyway, she’ll keep you on your toes, Ollie. I approve.” He saluted Oliver with the remnants of the drink in his glass and finished it with a hearty swig before bolting for the door.
“Thanks, Buddy.” Oliver gave Tommy a smirky grin.
“Alright. I’m out. Beauty sleep. Santa’s coming.”
>--->
It was early on Christmas Eve morning when Oliver was gently nudged awake by his housekeeper. Raisa was a woman of formidable character and exceptional warmth who had been a part of the Queen family since Oliver and Thea were children. When it came to the Queen siblings, she was loved just as hard as she loved in return. Still, she took no sass from either of them.
“Mister Oliver,” she hissed. “Why is this young woman asleep on your sofa?”
Oliver’s eyes fluttered open and his brain skidded into wakefulness as he shifted in his oversized chair. He sighed heavily.
“She’s a friend, Raisa.”
“I should hope so,” she countered. “But that does not explain why a girl with the face of an angel is asleep in the den. The last time I cleaned, this house had five guest bedrooms with nice comfortable beds. It makes no sense to be on a sofa.”
It was rare that Raisa lectured him now that Oliver was a grown man, but he felt suitably admonished.
“I know. Tommy Merlyn brought Miss Smoak by quite late and she was already…asleep. I worried she might wake in the night and feel disoriented. This seemed like the best solution.”
Raisa studied him, as she had done hundreds of times, searching his face. When he was a callow youth, she had usually seen right through his attempts as misdirection. All she saw this morning was sincerity. Oliver Queen had outgrown his youthful stupidity years earlier to become a gentleman of character. That didn’t mean she didn’t keep him on his toes now and again.
“Mister Tommy should know better too. Now, you will be needing coffee for two?”
“A very large pot, please, Raisa.” He sighed and carded a hand through his mussed hair.
The woman looked over at Felicity and nodded before making her way toward the kitchen.
“Eggs, fruit and scones?”
“That would be wonderful. No nuts though. She’s allergic. Do we still have some of those preserves you make?”
“She must be special. You never share your favorite preserves.” Raisa smirked as she headed through the doorway.
“Thank you, Raisa.”
“Oh, Mister Oliver.” Raisa poked her head back in. “There may be some mistletoe…around.”
The woman smirked as Oliver rolled his eyes.
>--->
It was a crazy dream. One of those long ones that just goes on and on. So long that you suspect it’s a dream while you’re in it. There were panda bears and somehow Felicity was in charge of them. She liked that because they were obedient and she got to pet them. And her 9th grade gym teacher, Mr. Sadler, was there. He was wearing a furry hat like the Winkies in the Wizard of Oz and even though Felicity never smelled things in her dreams, he smelled like cigarettes. She just knew it. He was the enemy and everywhere she went – the grocery store, a server room at MIT, and the balcony at Winterfell. And he kept swinging an umbrella at her panda bears. That really pissed her off. In an unexpectedly aggressive move, she hit Winkie Sadler with an uppercut that dropped him on the ground. Felicity woke up when the panda bears hailed her as their leader.
She murmured, “Yes, I’ll be your queen,” into the soft brown suede of the couch that rubbed softly against her cheek. The utterance of his surname caught Oliver’s attention enough to pull his gaze from the weekend newspaper to his guest.
He studied her from his chair a few feet away, as he had done numerous times in the past hour. It wasn’t easy being a Queen. He had wondered for some time if he would ever find someone to share his life with. All of the obvious choices, from seasoned socialites to driven businesswomen, had drifted in and out of his life, but there had been no one who stood out, who challenged him and taught him. None of those women connected with him and made him think and laugh quite like this lady had since Friday night. Felicity Smoak was different. She saw things from a different angle, she was vivacious and funny. She could be trouble, he thought, challenging at every turn. But maybe he was ready for that. He didn’t want to rush anything, but maybe she was it. Maybe one day she could...  
“Queen of the Pandas,” she clarified in a groggy voice. Her arm even raised so she could wave to her subjects awkwardly before it dropped suddenly and she whacked herself in the face.
Oliver would have laughed quite loudly if he hadn’t been concerned she might have hurt herself. A moment later, she was sitting up, shaking off the pain. It didn’t take long for the blonde woman to look confused. Where was she? How did she get here?
“Felicity.” Oliver spoke quietly, trying not to surprise her. “You’re okay. You’re at my home.”
She looked at him but it was like she didn’t recognize him out of context. Then she scanned the well-appointed room and ran her fingers along the cushions.
“No way. This looks like a museum. This couch is suede. I can’t stop petting it. Nobody has a suede couch.”
“Felicity, it’s me. Oliver. You slept on my sofa last night.”
Suddenly, Felicity’s eyes grew wide and her skin turned pink. “Oh, my God. I drank too much. I had a cab bring me here, didn’t I? How presumptuous and rude. I am so, so sorry.”
Felicity bolted up and searched for her shoes, which were at the foot of the couch. Oliver watched wordlessly, not sure what to say next. As soon as she finished putting them on, she made a beeline for the door, but Oliver finally sprung into action and quickly headed her off before she got to the foyer.
“Don’t run away. You weren’t presumptuous at all. It was Tommy who brought you here.”
“Tommy?”
“My friend, Tommy…Merlyn.”
“Designer ski mask Tommy Merlyn?”
“Yes, him. You ended up at Verdant last night. Our club. Tommy served you some drinks and when you got…overtired…he brought you here. I hope you don’t mind.”
She cringed at her memory of the past evening. Not her greatest showing. Now Oliver probably thought she was a barfly.
“Oh, I’m so embarrassed.”
Oliver’s expression reflected a warm, charming smile. He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned in for emphasis.
“Don’t be. You had a tough night. Were you able to fix the problems at SCPD?”
“Oh, yes. BritneyLovr888 won’t be infiltrating Starling City servers again for some time.”
“You found him and he’s caught?”
“Nope.” She sighed loudly. “He’s some jerkwad hacker in Moscow. I stopped him.  I would tell you what I did to him, but a lady likes to maintain some mystery. Just know it was fairly terrible and he won’t be bothering the SCPD anymore.”
“Wow. You’re kind of a badass, aren’t you?” Oliver grinned at her and watched her blush in return. It was fun to have her on the ropes for a moment, given how clever she was. “I guess I can take comfort in knowing that you cancelled dinner for a very good cause last night.”
Felicity’s head dropped against his chest and talked into his shirt. Oliver looked down at the top of her head and smiled.
“I did not want to cancel. I hope you know that.” She murmured.
“I know.”
Felicity looked up at him with sparkling blue eyes. “Good,” she replied.
“As far as I’m concerned, dinner wasn’t cancelled. It was postponed. Okay?”
“Okay, Oliver.” The air felt lighter suddenly. Oliver felt the change in energy and decided to embrace it.
“It’s Christmas Eve. Do you have plans?”
Felicity chuckled. “I don’t even know what I’m doing for breakfast.”
“Ah,” Oliver pivoted and pulled Felicity’s arm into the crook of his and began leading her across the foyer and toward the kitchen. “You are in luck. Raisa, she helps Thea and me with the house, she has made us a delicious breakfast.”
“Coffee?” She moaned.
“Yes, ma’am. And then, I was thinking…you have a great Christmas tree, but it’s not decorated.”
“Oh, I don’t want to make a fuss with it. The tree doesn’t need fancy decorations.”
“I was thinking simple, actually. When Thea and I were kids, our parents would make bowls of popcorn and we would string it and hang it on one of the trees while we watched movies.”
“One? How many trees do you have?”
Oliver looked embarrassed. “Four. We had eight one year. That was crazy. Now that it’s just Thea and me, we have four. Not very big ones.”
Felicity’s eyes twinkled. “Well, as long as they aren’t very big.”
Suddenly, Oliver gathered her up in a hug. He rubbed his cheek against hers as he had done the previous day and it made her giggle. Oliver held her until she stopped. He really didn’t want to let go. But eventually, she pulled away to look up at him.
“Could we do the popcorn thing tonight, Oliver? It would be perfect.” She sounded genuinely excited.
“Sure. As long as you’ll let me take you to dinner after Christmas.”
“Okay. No interruptions this time. Even if the city is under attack from ninjas.”
“Is that likely to happen?” He adopted a serious tone.
“You never know.”
Oliver took her arm and began to lead her toward the hall, the shortest path to the kitchen.
“I should warn you in advance, our housekeeper, Raisa, is a bit…how do I say this? Totally of her own volition, she may have spent the past hour putting mistletoe up all over the house instead of making breakfast.”
Felicity smiled quietly, then paused.  
He felt her stop moving suddenly.  Oliver wasn’t sure what might be wrong. Before he could ask, the blonde, so much shorter than him, rolled up on her toes, gathered her hands to reach around his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss. Her mouth was warm and soft against his. Without thinking, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed fingers into her soft hair, extending the moment a little longer. When their lips finally parted, Oliver pressed his forehead against hers and they shared the same air. Feeling her so close felt right.
“Felicity Smoak. You really are remarkable.”
“Well, I am impatient. I couldn’t wait for the mistletoe.”
>--->
That night, Oliver Queen made dinner for Felicity Smoak at her apartment and they strung popcorn to hang on her Christmas tree. It was a lovely evening and marked a tradition they would revisit again and again. Thea and her beau managed to get in a bit early on Christmas Day. When Oliver introduced Felicity as his girlfriend, Thea congratulated her brother on his fast work and took all the credit for bringing them together.
Tommy joined the party later in the evening. He watched Oliver and Felicity with interest, noting how they seemed to complement each other in every way that mattered. Later, he waited expectantly for Oliver to open his Christmas present. No one laughed louder than Oliver when he found a certain designer balaclava inside the box.  
The End.
Tagging: @scu11y22, @tinaday3w, @dettiot, @mel-loves-all, @andjustforthismoment, @aussieforgood, @florence-bubbles, @flailykermit, @diggo26, @olicityaddicted, @thewidowpazzy, @melsanfo, @emilybettqueen, @yourviewingparty, @lynslogic, @tanyaslogic, @angelalafan, @coal000, @triciaolicity, @choiceofluthien, @emilybuttrickards, @seaolicity, @supersillyanddorky06, @swordandarrow, @watsoncroft, @jsevick, @readerkas, @yespleasehawkeyee, @geniewithwifi, @befitandchase, @caedmonfaith, @myhauntedblacksoul, @casydee, @jamyfan-blog, @awesomeziziblr, @bigdeesmallworld, @alemap74, @angelicmisskitty, @almondblossomme, @callistawolf, @miriam1779, @imusuallyobsessed, @vaelisamaza, @mochababychristy, @juliesioux, @pjcmfalcon, @josephine-in-mirkwood, @i-m-a-fan-world, @ms-mags, @red-devilkin, @ah-maa-zing, @itshandledd, @olicityandsteroline, @turn-thy-paige, @wildirish23, @nlh03, @alanna-the-lionheart, @charlinert, @amytosh, @stygian-omada-fan, @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl, @machawicket,  @biermank, @i-am-wordaholic, @memcjo, @jaspertown, @itchiygo, @oliverfel4, @tolivers, @ccdimples88, @ap-n, @pleasantfanandstudent, @emmilynestill,  @kainesbitt77,  @anthfan, @lyricalarrow, @laurabelle2930, @ellefraser17, @ireland1733, @mammashof, @chachurka, @somewhatinvisible, @tdgal1, @buffaleen, @suziesammy-blog, @missyriver, @lovelycssefan, @kh2o, @codebreakinsmoak, @letsnevergrowupfan, @memcjo, @bwangangelic, @arrowolicity88, @thebookjumper, @arrowlainie05, @pineprincess, @saebrfan, @olicityinmyheart, @razorbladenitro, @letsnevergrowupfan, @1106angel, @xflarrowbeforebloodx, @omglovechrissie, @benisa1608, @simonona-blog, @blindspot-fanatic, @hecatesan, @hope-for-olicity, @fangirlingkitten, @scandalnewbie, @just-arrowolicity
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rndomdragon · 8 years ago
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Chocolate Bunnies -part 3 of 4
(Ao3 -> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10634205/chapters/23601789) - "Darlin, wake up. Happy Easter." McCree placed a kiss on top of Hanzo's head, only to have his own head smacked away. "Ow! What was that for?" "Go back to sleep, McCree. It's our day off." Hanzo turned around, hogging all the blankets to himself on their shared bed. "That ain't nice. Well I'm going out. Reyes probably got some wild party going on." He got up and shuffled to the washroom, giving his scruffy beard a mini trim then pulling a shirt over his head and put some pants on. He took one one step out the door and- bam! He was hit in the face with confetti. "What in the world?" A piece of paper hung from an exploded canister above his head that read: "Come to the recreational room for the egg hunt! Happy Easter! -the little shits." His best guess was that the canister was rigged to shoot confetti at him when the door opened. "Hey Hanzo, you might want to come see this. Genji's probably involved in this." - "Bastion, my friend," Zenyatta called to the other omnic. "I just received word from Genji that there is a party that we were invited to. Let us go." "01000001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110011 01110101 01110010 01100101 00111111?" "Yes of course I am. Genji would never put either of us in harm's way." He headed toward the door of their shared room and turned the door handle. "Come on." "01001110 01101111," Bastion beeped frantically. "00100000 01110111 01100001 01110100 01100011 01101000 00100000 01101111 01110101 01110100!" "Nonsense." Zenyatta pushed the door open with Bastion beeping warnings behind him. Confetti showered down upon him. "Ah, what a pleasant surprise! No fear Bastion. This is not ment to harm us." "01010111 01101000 01100001 01110100 00100111 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100001 01110100 00111111?" The other omnic pointed to a piece of paper hanging from the ceiling. "It reads 'Come to the recreational room for the egg hunt! Happy Easter!' It sounds fun." "01001001 00100000 01000001 01001101 00100000 01101111 01101110 01101100 01111001 00100000 01100111 01101111 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01101001 01100110 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101." "Of course. After you." - "Hm." Reinhardt looked over at Ana, who was frowning in thought at the tablet in her hands. "Is something the matter?" "No. Nothing's wrong." Ana looked up at him with a strange look in her eye. "Fareeha just told me that there's something dangerous outside our room. I'm going to check it out." "What? No!" Reinhardt got to his feet, puffing his chest out proudly. "Allow me!" He marched over to their extra large door and swung it open with full force. Nothing was there. He looked around confused, until he heard the multiple pops going off, followed by a shower of confetti raining down on his head. "What is this?" He looked back at Ana who was trying to cover her smile with a hand. "It looks like we are invited to a party." She pointed to the note hanging from the door. He looked at her, dumbstruck as she flipped over her tablet, showing the message from Fareeha that read: "I've got something out the door that will scare our big lion." - //chatroom.private server 33.43. connection secure\\ [[Opening: 8:46am]] rabbit: set ups done in the rec room rabbit: what about the hunt sonic: yes ;) dr.eggman: ive tagged most of the eggs locations dr.eggman: wtf is my name? rabbit: lol [\\ dr.eggman changed their name to Sombra //] Sombra: why the fuck does everyone have a code name? rabbit: it might not be safe rabbit: u know hackers and stuff Sombra: dude Sombra: r u still salty? froggy: GUYS froggy: no fighting pls sparrow: get to positions sparrow: i need help with package Sombra: wtf is package edgelord: im coming. edgelord: if u damage it ill kill u. Sombra: and why isnt everyones name capped? rabbit: u would know if u payed attention sparrow: GUYS THEY R HERE sparrow: WHREE IS EVERYONE Sombra: just go urself sparrow: i sparrow: i cant sonic: why not?? XD sparrow: pls lena sparrow: dont do this sonic: no Sombra: ? bird: Don't worry. Angela and I are here. angel: We'll stall for time. sonic: wait for me sonic: ill b there [[Closure: 8:52am]] - McCree walked into the recreational room, not knowing what to expect. He knew for sure that Reyes wouldn't have missed an opportunity to help with the party, but when he stepped into the room, he was shocked. Usually Reyes would go over the top, hanging a huge inflatable ballon on the ceiling, or covering the lights with some kind of film to make the room all red. But everything looked normal. Everything was normal. Streamers hung off the ceiling, tables were covered with table cloth. Food was placed neatly in rows, next to baskets that he assumed were for the egg hunt. Not a single thing looked out of place. That was what scared him the most. Or perhaps Reyes had changed. As Reaper, he probably didn't celebrate a lot of parties back in Talon. Maybe he had lost his edge. Very unlikely, though. He saw Soldier 76 looking around, his eyes scanning the ceiling and the floors, looking for anything that seemed out of place. Guess he didn't feel this was right either. Angela and Fareeha smiled at them from the centre of the room. Angela, as always, he couldn't read, but Fareeha had that look on her face. The one where something big was about to happen. It was unsettling. More people filled into the room, and he noticed that most of them seemed to be covered in confetti as well. Looks like he wasn't the only one who got special treatment. "Good morning!" Everyone looked around to see who had spoken. Tracer stood at the door, a pair of orange bunny ears shoved into her wind blown hair. "You all here for the Easter egg hunt, eh?" She walked to the table with the baskets. "Gather around. Angela here will explain the rules." "Okay, so, first things first. No weapons or explosives. This is a friendly competition." Junkrat whined in the background. Ever the diplomat, Angela was. Always looking out for other people, McCree thought. He wished more people were like her, himself included. He let her voice fade into the background as he bent down to look under the table. There must be something they were hiding. "Jesse," Hanzo spoke from behind him. "What are you doing?" "What?" He tried to get up too fast, bumping his head on the table. "Ow! I was just looking for something-" he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of Hanzo. "That I dropped." "Oh. Let me help." His boyfriend bent down as well, squatting down next to him. "Oh, no, no. It's okay, I found it." McCree quickly got up putting his hat back on his head. "Yeah, um- the Easter hunt thing? You wanna do it together?" "If you want to." "Great." McCree pulled his hat down to cover his red face. He was just being paranoid. Too many years living on the run. Just focus on the egg hunt. "We still need two more people in our team, then," Hanzo sighed, looking around the room. "What?" He looked at McCree, his face impassive. "Angela said the rules were that we are to be in teams of four to six. Were you not listening?" "Would ya be a darlin' and tell me them again?" Hanzo sighed. "We have five minutes to pick a team then an hour to find as many eggs as we can. No stealing from other teams and have fun." "Don't forget that the team with most eggs win," Zenyatta spoke from the side. There was an awkward pause between the two groups before the omnic spoke up again. "Bastion and I are two team members short. Could we perhaps join teams?" "That's a mighty fine idea." He looks over to Hanzo. "Is that okay with you, honey?" "Yes." "Great! Now we got ourselves a team!" McCree paused. "We're missing something… a team name!" Bastion raises their hand, looking between all of them. "01001000 01101111 01110111 00100000 01100001 01100010 01101111 01110101 01110100 '01001110 01100001 01110100 01110101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100010 01110101 01100100 01100100 01101001 01100101 01110011'?" "I think that is a wonderful name, Bastion," Zenyatta complements, nodding his head. "Are you two okay with that?" "Um… sure?" McCree stared back at them, dumbfounded. He looked at Hanzo but he just shrugged. "Alright, Nature Buddies, it is!" Zenyatta floated away to retrieve a basket. "Nature buddies? What, no!" McCree started after Zenyatta when Bastion stepped in front of him and let out an angry beep, their light turned red. "Okay, okay jeez. Nature buddies it is." - "Symmetra, will you be in a group with me?" She looked down at Mei, the shorter woman smiling hopefully at her. "Of course." She looked around at the other people getting together as a group. "We would still need two more people for our group to be complete." "Oh, Zarya there is alone. Maybe we should ask her!" Mei walked over to the Russian with a smile on her face. In a matter of seconds, the small Chinese woman came back holding the hand of a red-faced Zarya. "We would still need one more person." Symmetra frowned, looking around. Who else would join them? "Oi, girly! Lookin' for a group?" A loud voice with an Australian accent cut through the air, making her wince. "Me and Roady need one and ya look short a person." Symmetra opened her mouth to object, but Mei answered before her. "Of course! We would love to have you guys!" No. She wouldn't stand for this. How could they possibly work together? The junkers would just put her off balance. They looked so dirty and unclean. What if they accidentally brushed against her? The thought made her shiver. "I'll be my pleasure to work with you." The skinnier junker took her hand and kissed it. Her mouth fell open in shock, and he winked at her, moving away to retrieve a basket. It was utterly disgusting, the place where his lips made contact with her hand. Symmetra urged to wash it off or at least rub the spot with her hand. She was disgusted, yet, why were her cheeks flushed red? - //chatroom.private server 33.43. connection secure\\ [[Opening: 8:59am]] sonic: race about to start sonic: be ready to move sparrow: ok sparrow: reaps is here w me rabbit: dont screw this up genju rabbit: dont get seen sparrow: believe me I dont wanna Sombra: the trackers on the baskets r working Sombra: race started froggy: get movin [[Closure: 9:02am]] - "Found one!" Reinhardt smiled, picking a small pink plastic egg up in his hand. He turned back to the rest of the group, proudly placing it into the basket in Soldier 76's hands. He was so proud right up to the point where 'little' Fareeha and Angela came floating out of the sky, their arms filled with little multicoloured eggs. "We found some hidden in the cliff face." "That's my daughter," Ana beamed, smiling at the two woman. "Don't know about you two, but our victory looks quite assured to me with these two on our side." Soldier laughed and patted him on the back before stepping forward to collect the eggs from Fareeha and Angela. He met the younger Amari's eye, seeing the coy smile playing on her face. As Hana would say, game on. - "Where shall we go first?" McCree asked, scanning the outside of the building. "You think they put 'em on the roof?" "I'll go check." Hanzo started up the side of the building, swiftly moving up like a spider. "Hanzo! Wait up!" McCree called, trying to find a purchase on the wall. How did he do this? Hanzo looked back down at him, amused. "Are you sure about that?" "Yeah. I used to climb trees taller than this base when I was younger! If you could do it, so can I." McCree gripped onto a pipe leading toward a water drain and shimmied upward, his knuckles turning white. He could feel Hanzo watching him from above and Zenyatta and Bastion watching him from below, but he ignored their stares, trying to gain height. "We'll look on the ground level," Zenyatta called from bellow, amusement clear in his voice. "You two have fun up there." "Sure!" He smiled and looked down at the two omnics, and that was when he realized how high he really was. "01000100 01101111 01101110 00100111 01110100 00100000 01100110 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100001!" Bastion beeped. The pipe he was holding onto seemed to be slippery and swaying with the wind. He got so dizzy, so high up. He felt his hand sweating and slipped, his cybernetic hand the only thing keeping him from plummeting to his death. "Jesse!" Hanzo's voice called him back to the present. He glanced up at him. "Look at me. Don't look down. You're half way there already." McCree swallowed nervously and gripped onto the pipe again, slowly inching his way up. It seemed like forever until he reached the edge of the roof, Hanzo's firm hand gripping onto his arm. He let himself be dragged onto the roof then lay there, panting. "Jesse?" Hanzo poked his side, concern laces into his voice. "I'm okay." McCree opened one eye and turned his head to look at him. "Did we at least get what we came here for?" "Yes." Hanzo held up one green egg in front of his face. "Great. All that for one little egg." He rolled over and smiled lazily at Hanzo. "I am never doing that ever again." "Oh, Jesse." Hanzo smiled cruelly at him. "We still have to go down." - //chatroom.private server 33.43. connection secure\\ [[Opening: 9:23am]] rabbit: check in guys sonic: so far so good angel: Jack is still suspicious of something happening. bird: Don't worry about it. We'll keep him unaware. sparrow: havent been spotted yet sparrow: but its slow going //whisper: edgelord: btw tracer. //whisper: sonic: ye? //whisper: edgelord: wtf did u make him wear? //whisper: edgelord: its bad. //whisper: sonic: i thought it suited him real nice :"( sparrow: well we still have lik 30min sparrow: so were good sonic: also winston isnt participating sonic: or widowmaker cuz sombra and reaps r not doing it with her angel: Torbjörn wants to do it himself. He quit our team. rabbit: sounds good rabbit: lucio u done the dj booth froggy: yep rabbit: okie rabbit: countin on yall [[Closure: 9:31]] - Despite their grubby appearance, the junkers were quite useful. They seemingly knew all the hiding places, nooks and crannies inside and around the base. When she questioned him, he merely replied, with a glint in his eye, that he had a lot of treasure to hide. "Gold," Junkrat told her. "I ain't just a wanted criminal for my good looks." He winked at her and sent her into a blushing mess. Symmetra walked alongside Mei and Zarya, the two quietly talking together. She had know for some time that the two were very close, but only now did she really feel the closeness between the them. The term she believed Hana would have used was 'third-wheeling'. She quickened her pace until she was in-step with Junkrat. "Hey there lil' Sheila." He grinned at her, showing his crooked teeth. "How ya doin' this fine day?" "What did you call me?" Symmetra frowned, not understanding the slang term he used. She didn't know if it was an insult or not. "Ah, nothin'. Just a nickname from my 'ol country." They continued to walk in a peaceful silence until she spoke up and interrupted, which was unusual for her to do. "Your home country? Where is that?" "Me? Oh, Roady and I both come from Australia, where the wild things grow!" He smiled at her again. "Ooh! Another egg!" He picked a blue one up, half hidden in a bush, and put it into the basket Roadhog was holding. "So where did ya come from? Some fancy palace up north where it snows all year long?" "India." Symmetra paused, not sure if she should go on. "The place I lived in did seem like a palace at the time, very different than the slums I lived in before Vishkar picked me up." Thinking about her past kicked up dreadful memories. Ones of doubt and fear of losing everything she ever had. Ones of betrayal towards the company that had literally raised her. She had long ago left the organization to join Overwatch, but looking back at her past always seemed to bring the worst things to the present. "Eh, we gonna win this egg thingy or what?" The junker seemed to notice her change in mood and tried to divert her thoughts. "'Cause I only came because there was gonna be a prize at the end, right Roady?" The larger man behind him let out a grunt. "And those two lovebirds ain't helpin' us one bit, so why don't ya summon yer teleportin' sorcery stuff and get a move on-" he paused- "please?" Symmetra smiled her appreciation at him and let out a quiet huff of laughter. "It isn't much sorcery, than it is science." She formed a teleporter in her mind, and wove it out with her hands, activating her cybernetic arm. "The path is open. Let us go." -
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