#just need to learn how to longfic *finger guns*

[shieldedbythunder]

Today in Thundershield AUs I May Never Get Around to Writing But Still Love to Think About

So, one of my favourite musicals is She Loves Me, which has a lovely mutual pining/mistaken identity/enemies-to-friends-to-lovers type of plot, so naturally, I started to imagine it with a Thundershield slant. Pardon me while I dump my feels in your laps wax lyrical.

So first of all there’s Steve Rogers, a sales clerk in Tony Stark’s perfumerie in 1940s New York. Maybe not the most glamourous job out there, but it pays well, nobody there minds his asthma and constant illnesses, and he considers the staff good friends.

Plus it’s nice to hang around people like Natasha and Sam, who know all about his preference of men and don’t see anything wrong with it. What’s more, they know about his “Dear Friend” from the Lonely Hearts Club, the man he’s been in correspondence with for nearly six months without exchanging names, and they think it’s high time he arranged a meeting with this long distance gentleman caller.

Then one morning, in comes Thor Odinson, all six foot-two, piercing blue eyes and bulging muscles of him, looking for a job. Tony puts him on a trial run for the day, but Thor’s so charming with the customers that they’re shaking hands to seal the deal before noon.

And it’s great! Everyone likes working with Thor, and he gets along well with the customers, even if he can be a little hot-headed and a bit too self-assured at times. The only problem is that, well, Steve and Thor get a little… prickly around each other. Nothing that would escalate into full hatred or a fight (Thor could probably knock Steve over with a good hard sneeze), just daily bouts of sniping and bickering over the smallest things.

Thor gets annoyed beyond belief sometimes, but mostly he’s just confused, can’t understand what he could possibly have done to make Steve dislike him so.

Steve knows he’s being an ass, and feels ashamed of his behaviour, but he gets so nervous around Thor, who breezed into the job so easily where it was near impossible for Steve to get work before Tony took him in. Who could so easily push Steve right out of his job just by being stronger and healthier and more useful. It’s stupid and immature, he’s painfully aware, but he can’t help but get defensive. Every morning, he walks into work resolving to try and be nicer to Thor, and every evening they part ways stewing over their latest spat.

A month or two passes, and Steve decides to take Sam and Nat’s advice. He writes to Dear Friend to set up a dinner, books a place in a nice restaurant for Friday night, and patiently sits through Bucky and Sam’s attempts to apply their experience with dames to Steve’s situation (the thought is still appreciated).

Before he knows it, it’s Friday evening and he’s finishing up in the shop before heading to the restaurant. He’ll admit he’s a little nervous; it’s hard enough to find another man who shares his inclinations, never mind one who won’t be disappointed when they see Steve in person. But Dear Friend knows all about his medical conditions, has never been anything but kindly and warm - Steve’s feeling optimistic. Excited, even.

Not even his latest session of head-butting with Thor could bring him down - something about Thor needing the evening free for an important appointment, and getting riled up when Steve wouldn’t swap shifts. Thankfully, Wanda had volunteered before things got too heated.

He arrives at the restaurant, going over the plan one last time. He’ll walk in, the white rose (love at first sight, the book had said they meant - well, he is being optimistic) in his lapel and carefully hidden from prying eyes by his scarf, as agreed. Dear Friend will be carrying a copy of Anna Karenina (which he read and loved after Steve mailed him his old copy), Steve will reveal the rose, and then… well, he hasn’t thought quite that far ahead yet, but they’ll cross that bridge when they get to it.

Plucking up his courage, he walks in the door… and is mortified to see Thor sitting at a table - the last thing he needs is somebody from work seeing him and asking questions.

After a moment, irritation takes over from panic - after all the fuss he’d kicked up over his shift, his insistence that he simply couldn’t work this evening, all Thor had wanted was a free evening for a date. At least, Steve assumes it’s a date, as he observes from out of sight - there’s something almost painfully eager about Thor’s expression as his eyes roam around the restaurant, clearly waiting for somebody, fingers drumming on a book on the table that - wait a second.

He recognises that book. Can’t count the number of times he’s thumbed through it. It’s his copy of Anna Karenina, the one he sent to Dear Friend. Sitting at Thor’s elbow. 

This can’t be happening. Thor? Arrogant, hot-headed Thor was the same man who’d written him such tender, heartfelt letters for nearly a year now?

Unfortunately, it’s at this moment that Thor sees Steve gaping at him, and his heckles immediately go up. He’s waited long enough to meet his Dear Friend, and he’s not going to let Steve ruin the evening. They end up arguing again, and Steve storms out of the restaurant, convinced it must have all been some prank.

He sticks around near the restaurant for the evening, waiting to see what Thor will do next. But eventually, closing time comes, and Steve’s stomach sinks when he sees Thor’s the last to leave, looking close to tears as he trudges home, cradling the old book so tenderly between those big hands of his.

The next morning, Thor calls in sick with a cold, and Steve, full of remorse for his behaviour, decides to use his lunch hour to make sure he’s okay.

When Thor answers the door, he assumes that Steve’s checking in to see if he’s really sick or just skipping work, and gets suspicious and surly. 

But then, Steve presents him with a tub of ice cream. Strawberry, his favourite - he remembered an off-hand comment of Thor’s, weeks ago now, about how his mother would buy him ice cream when he was sick as a child, to cheer him up.

Completely taken aback by Steve’s gesture, Thor invites him in, and they spend a surprisingly pleasant hour chatting over coffee and ice cream, Thor wrapped up in blankets at the kitchen table.

Steve apologises for his behaviour since Thor started at the shop, but especially for how out of line he was at the restaurant last night. Thor apologises too - he was tense last night, true, but he’s been giving just as good as he gets this whole time with Steve. In hushed tones, he admits the nature of last night’s rendez-vous to Steve, clearly expecting to be laughed at. After all, who actually joins those Lonely Hearts Clubs unless they’re absolutely desperate? 

Which he is, but Steve doesn’t need to know that.

But again, Steve surprises him. He finds the whole thing rather romantic, he says, and hopes that Thor and his Dear Friend will be able to patch things up, admitting that his own meeting with a penpal the night before didn’t go quite as he’d hoped for.

He means to tell Thor everything, he really does.  But every time Steve tries to find the words, something holds him back. He wants this, he truly does - and he thinks he could be truly happy if it were with Thor. But he needs to be sure that Thor feels the same. That he’d be okay with Steve and Dear Friend being one and the same. Soon, he tells himself, trying to ignore how his heart jumps up into his mouth at the thought.

It’s only after Steve leaves and he’s settling down to write another letter, that it occurs to Thor - he’d told the ice cream story at work, true, but he’s positive he never mentioned his favourite flavour. He begins to wonder…

The next three weeks are the lead up to Christmas, but even in all the chaos and hubbub of last minute shoppers, everyone at the shop is thunderstruck by the difference that’s come over Steve and Thor. 

For the first few days, they’re perfectly cordial, No arguments, no dirty looks, and any smiles they share don’t look forced any more.

But then, they start talking and laughing with each other, getting coffee together after work, recommending various books and music to one another. Steve helps Thor pick out a gift to send back home to his mother, and Thor brings Steve to a good art shop near his apartment that isn’t too costly. 

It’s almost like *gasp* they’re friends!!!

And all the while, they dance around each other, trying (and failing) to pluck up the nerve to ask each other the question of Dear Friend’s identity - both of them terrified of rejection.

Finally, Christmas Eve arrives, and Steve and Thor volunteer to lock up the shop while everyone else heads home (because of COURSE they have to end up alone together). It’s nice, having a chance to take a breather and just talk after the madness of the last few hours.

The talk soon turns back to their penpals, with Thor saying he’s thinking about setting up another meeting with his Dear Friend soon. Steve stays vague about his own contact, heart in his mouth, but wishes Thor all the best with it.

Just as they’re about to leave, Thor takes his hands and tells him, as poorly as that last attempt at a meeting with Dear Friend went, he’s so grateful that he and Steve have been able to put things aside and get as close as they have because of it.

And Steve sees the look in Thor’s eyes, so soft and wistful, and it’s like a shot of liquid courage. He takes the leap and tells Thor everything, going to pull Thor’s latest letter from where he keeps it in his breast pocket for proof.

But he doesn’t even need it. The words are barely even out of Steve’s mouth when Thor’s lips are on his, arms tight around him, murmuring “I KNEW it” with so much joy and relief between kisses, and before they know it, they’re both laughing and crying a little and spinning around the darkened shop and all is WELL for their gay little hearts and mine.

FIN.

@leisurelypanda @heapsofspaghetti

[floreleine]

Floreleine getting caught! I just had this vision of them being caught in the halls of the Library by Anna May, who they thought didn't know about them. I leave the caught doing what up to your creative muse he he.

I'm procrastinating the longfics I'm trying to write and thought I could have a look at my inbox again! Thanks for the prompt :)

This is a standalone, but I think it can be read as a follow up to this fic, coincidentally also prompted by you! :D hope you'll like it!

~1k words, rated M, established Floreleine pre-canon

~~~

Madeleine washes her hands, hides her ruined panties in her pocket and carefully readjusts her skirt as she steps out of the bathroom.

She shouldn't be sneaking off to touch herself in the middle of the work day, but goodness, she had to watch Florence be all incredibly sexy while assembling guns, sharpening knives and polishing gold bars, without being able to do anything about her building arousal, and it has been driving her crazy!

Looking left and right, she quickly sneaks back into the front of the library, hoping that Anna May hasn't noticed her longer absence - she really doesn't need her asking any questions. She and Florence are trying to keep their relationship hidden from their leader, as Florence is quite certain Anna May wouldn't approve of their being together, and Madeleine trusts her judgement.

Taking the next stack of returned books she is working on, Madeleine checks them each for damages, inside and out (and whether they still hold what they should hold in the first place), before carrying the complete ones over to Florence, giving her a tight smile and trying not to watch the way Florence's hands work on the rifle she is currently handling.

Oh, how Madeleine would like to be the one under these fingertips right now...

Florence puts down the weapon and hands Madeleine a few of the finished books to shelve. Neither of them speaks, but their fingers brush, and heat shoots through Madeleine's body.

They repeat the process a few times, and Madeleine's hands are so sweaty, she has to brush them on her skirt so as not to stain the books, or have any metal objects slip from her hands.

When Madeleine is shelving a few books in the foreign section, humming to herself as she imagines Florence there with her, working side by side as well as they were fighting side by side the day they met... She is almost done with her work now, and hopefully Florence will finish early as well, so they can have a little date night at a restaurant Anna May doesn't frequent, or just disappear to one of their rooms to make love all evening until they are exhausted and have to sneak out to the kitchen for a midnight snack...

So lost in her thoughts and the by now familiar motions of stepping up ladders and pushing books into their assigned spaces, Madeleine doesn't notice that she is no longer alone until an arm sneaks around her waist just when she steps down from a ladder again.

"Ah! - Oh, Florence, love, you scared me!"

"You should learn to be more vigilant," Florence murmurs before pecking Madeleine on the lips. "That's an important skill in our line of work, darling."

Giggling, Madeleine lets Florence crowd her against a shelf, happy to find a moment alone together. "I know, I know. But I was distracted, thinking about you..."

"Yeah?" Florence's lips are on her ear, and then her tongue touches the shell of her ear before she withdraws enough to look Madeleine in the eyes. "Good thoughts?" Her right hand slides down Madeleine's body, touching her through her skirt.

"Florence!" Madeleine gasps in shock. "We can't - what if -"

"Anna's gone to meet with a possible new client in the diner, she won't be back for a while, I'm sure," Florence murmurs, her hand not moving away. "and I had to look at you walking by in that tight thing all day..."

"I had to look at your hands," Madeleine whimpers. "That's worse!"

Florence laughs, and then she moves her hand away from Madeleine's core, making her whimper again at the loss of contact. "So you agree, then, that we definitely deserve a bit of a break?"

Madeleine nods shakily. "If you're sure that it's fine?"

Florence nods. "Now where the hell is the zipper on this thing?"

Giggling, Madeleine pushes the elastic down her thighs, then moans when Florence's fingers immediately meet her bare mound.

"Oh, please!"

~

A not insignificant time later, they are both sweaty and sated, breathing heavily as they are trying to put their clothes back into order.

"Finally! I was thinking I'd have to get the garden hose," a voice comes from the corner of the shelf, and Madeleine and Florence jump apart as if burned as Anna May steps into view.

"I swear, I came by three times already! Florence, I need one of the old guns for our new client, is one finished yet?"

With slightly shaking hands, Florence pulls one out of the pile that Madeleine had been shelving. "Here."

Madeleine twists her hands behind her body, looking at Anna May worriedly.

Anna May catches her look and raises an eyebrow, looking from her to Florence and back.

"What, did you think you were so slick that I wouldn't notice that you're fucking? Or that I'd tell you to stop? No, I get it, you're constantly around each other and no-one else, why not spend the time that way... Hell, do you really think I care what you're doing, as long as you still get the job done? You could be fucking 24/7 for all I care, as long as these books still get done and you get it out of your systems! Just don't get attached or emotional about it, that way lies trouble."

With that, she puts the book under her arm and disappears again.

Florence and Madeleine look at each other.

Madeleine knows that they must have both had the same thought: guess they still have something to hide from Anna May, after all...

"You're not so vigilant either, apparently," Madeleine finally tries to lighten the mood, "if Anna May already walked past three times..."

"Oh, she just said that," Florence grumbles, opening a button on her blouse that had been in the wrong buttonhole. Madeleine watches hungrily as the movement exposes her flushed skin. "And besides, I had a very good reason to be distracted, don't you think?"

"For sure!" Madeleine giggles, then turns hesitant. "...do you want to go to the small French restaurant we meant to visit, once we're done with the books?"

Florence smiles. "Date night? Sure."

"So... We're good? About what Anna May said..."

"Anna can't dictate our lives. We're good."

"I'm glad."

Florence leans in to press a kiss to Madeleine's lips, skillfully erasing the last of her doubts and fears.

"We better get back to work," she murmurs against her lips, "if we want to make it to dinner on time..."

"Good idea," Florence pulls back and winks. "I can't wait for tonight."

~~~

Might turn this into something rated E for Ao3 at some point, we'll see!

Also, am I wrong or do these fics also work as the backstory to the also pre-canon works with baby/kid Sam I have on Ao3?

Feel free to reblog!

Still taking prompts! If you reblog my stuff and ask off anon you're more likely to get a quick reply, tho it still depends on me liking the prompt idea of course :)

[leoswritingcorner]

the shadows that bind - pt 1

a continuation and canon events that stem from this! i’m excited to start a yj longfic. more heroes and villains to appear as we go.

part one of ?

May 3rd, 2014 Mount Justice

Kendra feels like she slept for days, and yet barely at all. Her body aches from twisting and turning, and her skin is damp from a cold sweat. She stands in the bathroom, hands braced against the sink counter as she tries to focus on the sound of the shower running.

“I can’t even look at you,” She mutters tiredly to her reflection. She begins to strip her pj’s off slowly, wincing at the growing bruises that marr her skin. Klarion really did a number on her. But the worst of them all had to be the reddish burn left behind from the chains that had been around her neck. She gently brushes her fingers against them and winces at the blistering sting that pulses through her.

Hungry.

Kendra grunts, pushing away from the sink. She ignores Shade’s annoyed growl and slips into the shower. The spray of the water hits her back and Kendra lets her muscles relax under the warm rush.

Hungry. Eat now.

Kendra snorts, tilting her head back. The water soaks through the thick locks of her hair. Again, Shade lets out an irritated growl. Kendra opens her eyes and sees a dark wisp wafting through the steam of the shower. Through its inky swirls, endless eyes of red flash through. Years ago, she remembers, the sight would have sent a chill of fear through her. But now, it was just plain aggravating. “You’ve got some damn nerve,” Kendra says lowly, narrowing her eyes.

Hungry. Eat now. Shade repeats, it’s scratchy hiss oddly soft.

“No,” Kendra bites back. “and if I were you, I’d shut the hell up and stay out of the way, Sh’ydha’n.”

At the sound of its true name Shade quakes and groans. The wisp loses its form the spray of the shower and all is quiet. If she hadn’t been so worn out, Kendra would’ve felt more surprised at Shade’s easy resign.

“Kennie!” Louise’s voice calls in a sing-song tone from outside the bathroom, matching the knocking rhythm she makes on the door. “Breakfast, girly! I made waffles and bacon!”

Kendra almost expects Shade to lunge her body out of the tub at the mention of bacon, but it remains unexpectedly still, and silent. “Yeah, lemme finish my shower!” she calls back finally. For once she enjoys a quiet shower. So why did it make her feel so uneasy?

*

“Ow...ow...owwww,” Kendra whines dramatically. It earns a light swat on her shoulder from Zatanna.

“You’re such a drama queen,” The magician points out as she continues to twist and turn Kendra’s hair into a neatly tied braid. “You’re the one who asked me for help.”

“Beauty hurts, and when things hurts I whine,” Kendra counters, lifting her chin with a good natured huff. Zatanna rolls her eyes, with a light scoff. “Looks like it’s gonna be a slow day.” Kendra says hopefully. So far, there was no call to a mission, or even a spotting to stop a crime. It was all seemingly normal. But again, an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of her stomach.

Zatanna finishes the braid with a proud sigh, patting her handy work. “Don’t jinx it,” She warns teasingly, settling back on the couch .Her eyes wander over to Brennan for a moment, seeing him catch onto Lucky in time as the newest member of the Team begins to lose control over gravity again. “But how are you doing?” She asks, turning her eyes back to Kendra.  

Kendra props herself up, and sinks back into the couch by Zatanna, shrugging a shoulder. “Like I got my ass handed to me by a bitch-boy. Sorry witch-boy.” She grumbles, crossing her arms. “But also everything he said about Shade…” She trails off, going quiet. Zatanna watches as Kendra struggles, as if trying to find the right words to say, or even if there was anything she could say at all. Klarion had shaken Kendra, not only by ripping Shade from her body, but by revealing Shade was so much more than just some monster who lurked in the shadows…

“Silhouette.” A deep voice calls. Kendra freezes, her eyes widening at Batman’s figure appearing in the doorway. “I need to speak with you. Now.” He says shortly, his tone firm and low. To Kendra it seemed more so than usual. He doesn’t wait, leaving for her to follow.

“Dammit,” Kendra breathes, standing up. By now, all the Team’s eyes were on her. Worried and unsure. Kendra wanted to sink into the shadows, and not come back. She does the only thing she can think of. She wanders to the door, turns and finger guns. “I’m screwed.” She declares cheerfully, before following after Batman. Out of the Team’s sight, her shoulders slump. “I am sooo screwed.”

*

Kendra pops another knuckle on her finger nervously as she watches Batman stare her down, and clears her throat. “Is...is this about the toaster I broke?” She asks. “I can replace it.” She offers quickly. Batman holds up a silencing hand and Kendra stops her next rush of words by biting down on her lip.

“Silhouette, what is Shade?” He questions. Kendra feels her heart leap into her throat. Oh no. 

“Shade is...an annoying shadow spirit,” She answers carefully. “I-I don’t know.” She says with a shake of her head. “It’s just something that’s been with me since I was thirteen.”

“Why would Klarion want it?” Batman continues. “He had mentioned to you that the Light could use it.” His words caused a prickle of nervousness to pinch at the nape of her neck. Kendra squeezes her hands together and nods wordlessly. “Why?” Batman repeats steadily.

“I don’t know!” Kendra blurts out. “I don’t…” She sighs, tilting her head back. For once, Shade was silent, not daring to feed on Kendra’s growing anxiety or anger. It was strange, and all too worrying. “He called it Sh’ydha’n. That’s all I know.” She replies, trying to calm the waver in her voice each time she speaks it’s true name.

Batman’s arm cross tightly over his chest. “You mentioned when you first joined the Team that Shade came to you in an old family heirloom. Why didn’t you know about it’s true origins then?” He doesn’t let up with the questions, or his unmoving look trained on her face.

“Well I don’t know, sir. Shade didn’t come to me with an instruction manual.” Kendra retorts defensively. “Listen, Klarion thinks anything spooky can be used as a weapon. It’s his gimmick. I got Shade back, there’s nothing to worry about.” She tries to brush off, waving a hand. But Cameron’s warning echoes in the back of her head.

‘The Light…they’re really are interested in Shade’

“If Klarion has brought Shade and its origins to the Light. It is bad news. For all of us.” Batman says suddenly. “We, especially you, its host have no idea about it. We cannot take any risks. We’ll need to learn and discover about Shade ourselves, and really see if it will prove to be an asset or threat.”

Kendra pauses. “Threat?” She echoes, her throat going dry. “Wh-what are you saying?”

Batman shakes his head. “If Shade can be used against us…” He stops himself. “I’m sorry,” He says more gently than she’s ever heard him before. “But, we cannot afford the risk, until we know more. Until then,” Batman starts, his next words hit Kendra harder than any she’s taken in years. “Silhouette, you are resigned from your duties and the Team.”