she had a good day

anonymous asked:

do you need to have read the grisha trilogy before six of crows???

No, you can read each series on their own. They’re set in the same world and a few characters from the Grisha trilogy make cameos in Six of Crows/ Crooked Kingdom, but otherwise the plotlines are kept pretty separate. I went into Six of Crows after having read the Grisha trilogy so i did feel like I had a more thorough understanding of the political climate surrounding the Grisha from the get-go in SoC, but the book itself did a really nice job laying out what information you’d need to know on its own anyway. I’d say you can always pick up the Grisha trilogy later if you want to know more about the world and the Grisha army but it’s not necessary.
Also, tbh, I just enjoy Six of Crows a lot more than the Grisha trilogy anyway. This is just my opinion at this point but I feel like it’s just a stronger series all around. L Bardugo’s writing improves drastically book to book, and that felt really painfully obvious in the Grisha series. All the characters and subplots she introduced in the later books were sooo much more interesting than the bland protagonist the series was just kind of stuck with. In contrast, I think the cast and premise of Six of Crows were really a testament to how much L Bardugo had grown as an author. I would recommend it first, with Grisha trilogy as optional supplementary material. But some people liked the Grisha series more than I did, so take that with a grain of salt haha.

3

some holly doodles to wind down for the night…..she would 100% be a hippie

2

she had the world // panic! at the disco

  • *221B*
  • Sherlock: *sitting in his chair*
  • Rosamund: *sitting in his lap; frowning at a photo* What am I looking at, Uncle Sherlock?
  • Sherlock: *smiles* My baby *points* that's the head, see?
  • Rosamund: *fascinated* Wooow...all those squiggly lines are a person?
  • Sherlock: *chuckles* Yes.
  • Rosamund: Your person.
  • Sherlock: *nods* Yup. And your Aunt Molly's.
  • Rosamund: *giggles* It's funny.
  • Sherlock: Hmm?
  • Rosamund: *still laughing* Aunt Molly has a person in her. How did you put it there?
  • Sherlock: *snorts* Oh, no *lifts her and stands* I'm not having that conversation for another twenty five years.
  • Molly: *enters; grinning* Hello.
  • Rosamund: *happily* Aunt Molly! *runs over; hugs her, whispers* hello, little person.
  • Molly: *smiles* You told her, then?
  • Sherlock: *nods* Oh, yes *pats Rosie's head* you're going to be a godcousin, aren't you?
  • Rosamund: *excited* Uh-huh.
  • Molly: *giggles* Is that so?
  • Sherlock: *nudges Rosie* Pyjamas, young lady. I'll be in soon.
  • Rosamund: *sighs* Okay, Uncle Sherlock. Night Aunt, Molly. Night, little person *runs off*
  • Molly: *calls* Night, Rosie *hugs Sherlock* I'm glad she took it well.
  • Sherlock: *kisses the top of her head* Mmm *pauses* John has some questions to answer, though.

in the heights au: everything is the same except sonny is actually invited to ninas dinner

“Dinner all ready, dear? I’ve brought a new tablecloth and napkins––thought ours were a bit shabby. And the wine, of course.” He lifted the bottle in his hand, smiling, then leaned forward to peer at me, and stopped smiling. He looked disapprovingly from my disheveled hair to my blouse, freshly stained with spit-up milk.

“Christ, Claire,” he said. “Couldn’t you fix yourself up a bit? I mean, it’s not as though you have anything else to do, at home all day––couldn’t you take a few minutes for a––”

“No,” I said, quite loudly. I pushed Brianna, who was wailing again with fretful exhaustion, into his arms.

“No,” I said again, and took the wine bottle from his unresisting hand.

“NO!” I shrieked, stamping my foot. I swung the bottle widely, and he dodged, but it was the doorjamb I struck, and purplish splatters of Beaujolais flew across the stoop, leaving glass shards glittering in the light from the entryway. 

––Voyager

Came to this scene in my Voyager reread today and it seemed appropriate for International Women’s Day and the Day without Women Strike. I think Claire’s only regret (and many of ours) is the tragic loss of wine experienced in the exchange. Beyond that, you tell him, Claire. 

To every woman who’s ever had the way they spend their time questioned or judged, be like Claire and don’t be afraid to tell them to go:

Originally posted by sassenach4life

Bus Stop

[V/Jihyun Kim X Reader]


Every day he saw her waiting there at the bench. Sometimes she would be standing. Her sun dress flowing in the wind, as if the lace or fabric had been lighter than air, catching even the smallest breeze. Her hair dancing about her face. His eye sight was poor, but he could see her tangled hair dancing. He could smell the perfume of her shampoo carried in the wind as he approached her. Other times she would be huddled together on the bench as she sat. Her knees clenched closely as she held her heavy coat to her frame in the cold wind.

It was the same as when he first met her. The droplets of rain fell hard, each splash on the pavement demanded your hearing. V could hardly believe someone had been caught so off guard by the storm. Her hands went from wiping her ever-dampening hair to her arms, to her soaked cloth clinging to her frame. He remembered thinking how beautiful and natural she looked. How helpless. How, in that moment, he saw someone in need of his help, even if his sight was less than superb. Her bangs and hair clung to her face and she smiled to him. The smile that he had grown to look forward to for weeks to come.

“Please, share my umbrella?” he asked of her as he held it above her shivering frame.

It was the first thing he ever said to her. The first words ever spoken between them as they stood there at the bus stop. Her careful nod and slight smile pierced through him in that instant. Her gratitude. Had he ever been so thankful for his eyesight before?

In his mind he could remember every detail of her. Her face. Her makeup and the way the strands of hair clung messily to her face from the rain like thin vines on a beautiful sculpture. The sound of the droplets on the umbrella and the feel of wetness as the bottoms of his jeans began to soak water and creep up his shins. It didn’t matter, as long as she was dry and comfortable.

“Thank you,” she spoke in soft syllables through the heavy rain.

Her voice had been like a symphony to the backdrop of the rain pattering. Her smile the beams of sunlight in the clouds of rain. It was a gift to see her before him.

When the bus approached and she nodded in gratitude before entering, he felt a heaviness in his chest. Such grace and beauty lost to him now because he hadn’t the courage, nor the strength, to ask her for any more than she had already bestowed upon him. Only a  warm smile and a slight giggle from her as he sheltered her from the rain.

The next day it was drizzling lightly as he approached the bench. His sight limited to the bus. And…as if a sign from above, he saw her looking back to him with that same sweet smile. It would insight the tightness in his chest once more. She recognized him? Even with his blurry vision he could never mistake her for another.

“Hello, V!” she would smile and exclaim every time.

Always the same cheerful greeting. It always elicited his heart to work overtime in his chest. He wanted to know more about her. Wanted her to know more about him.

“Call me Jihyun, remember,” he laughed and smiled.

“Oh! Of course, I’m so sorry,” she would laugh and cover her face in embarrassment.

He loved that about her. And without another thought his umbrella would be covering her and sheltering her from the spring rain.

“You don’t take the same route as I do, yet you’re always here at the same time,” she says casually, “why do you take the bus? Your clothes….ah! I’m sorry, is that rude?”

The way she gets flustered turns his cheeks red. He didn’t think he was dressed so richly? Maybe only compared to Jumin…

“It’s not rude,” he chuckled, “my eye sight…” he let his voice trail off.

“I know,” she replied.

Delicate fingertips pressed against his cheeks and shocked him more than he had anticipated. The feeling of her warm fingertips on his skin made his heart leap and his body feel warmth in the growing cold.

“Is that why you…ride public transport?” she had asked.

“Mostly, yes,” he found himself admitting.

It is true. He can still see alright, enough to get around daily life. But he can not drive. Public transport is his means of traveling. He doesn’t wish to be like his friend Jumin, spending money on personal drivers and cars. Figures from afar appear as blurs, but not her.

Perhaps it was the way she smelled. Or sounded.

He could hear her rustling and know it was her. Her delicate hands moving through her bag to find her chapstick. Or her sunglasses. Or phone. He could tell her apart from anyone else in the world. it would start off as if she had forgotten the thing completely. Frantic and manic were her hands in the pockets and crevices of her bag. Eventually, the all-too-familiar sigh would escape her when she found what she was looking for. Maybe others could not pick it up, but he could. He heard and watched her pop the cap from her chapstick in the summer and rub it against her full lips. She wasn’t aware of how bad his sight had been. But she was more aware than most.

Most good days, when he met her at the bench, they would talk about themselves. If she was carrying bags, she would explain what she purchased for him. Even if it was trivial, he found himself enthralled in her explanations.

“Shoes for the beach. You know my old ones always gave me trouble,” she laughed and he agreed since he had known as well, “and this new dress. I don’t know how well it will look. Maybe for a lunch with friends…”

She held the dress up to herself and he felt almost bad for imagining her in it. Perhaps on a moonlit night. She would be waiting as he approached from a street corner. She would be smiling, only for him, in that dress. He’d buy her dinner and wine. They would share her favorite dessert and she would tell him all about her day. He would listen intently. He cared. For a moment he had to remind himself of where he was.

“It’s a beautiful dress for you,” he remarked.

“Why, thank you,” she replied and stuffed the items back in her bag with red cheeks.

One day she was showing him what she had purchased, when she noticed how aloof he seemed, though he was trying his hardest not to show it.

“Your eyesight,” she spoke softly, “it’s getting worse…isn’t it…”

Why was he choking back his words? Was it the slight drizzling rain clouding his eyes, or his own tears as he held his umbrella over what he hoped was her frame. If he could do anything in this world, it was to keep her from being cold…and wet. Somehow, she knew. Just by the way he had acted, for he hadn’t said a word about how he was doing.

He felt a soft hand on his own free one. It was hers. Without thinking twice he smiled and let her lead him. He could even hear her smile in her voice.

“Sunglasses…not that I’ll be needing them anytime soon, don’t you agree? I feel like a fool for believing the weatherman,” she laughed and held her forehead against his own as she did so, while still guiding his hand around her bag.

Was she not put off by his ailment? It was one of the first times he could say he hadn’t felt like an outsider. Someone who needed to be asked to be accepted. She had grabbed his hand…

She had grabbed his hand…and from then on, she continued to do so.

Some days, he didn’t need it. Some days, the sun shone bright and still would be out-shined by her radiance. Her smile and aura as he approached the bench would radiate his core. Whether she was heading to work, meeting friends or shopping, she looked beautiful and full of hope to him. She filled him with her warmth even on the coldest of days.

It wasn’t since Rika that he had felt this way about another human being. And even thinking about her inner beauty, could he say he even felt this way about Rika? No. This person who had accepted him as who he was, even with his sight as it happened to be. This person who asked nothing from him other than conversation as they waited for the bus to take them to their destinations.

When he had fallen in love with her, who could say? But he was sure she felt the same way. Her subtle touches to his hands and arm when they met. The way she leaned in close to explain things to him.

“It is cold…but I do appreciate the rain,” she said one day to him after he had placed his jacket over her. “It gives life to the flowers around us, the plants…Life would cease to exist without the rain. I think we should appreciate it. Don’t you agree?” she asked him.

Of course he did. His hands held her shoulders tightly as he explained so. How badly he wanted to ask her to dinner in that moment. Maybe just to a cup of coffee. To ask her everything about herself. Did she garden? What was her favorite film? Did she enjoy music?

He could sense a lot about her just in the time they spent together. She was selfless. She only went shopping when it meant it was needed. If it was for meeting friends, or perhaps something she didn’t have before. He liked that about her. She was observant.

“The bus has been a little late…fourth time this week…I hope the driver isn’t feeling ill,” she had mentioned one day.

He laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she smiled and put her hand on his forearm playfully, “ I really am worried!”

“Only you would be worried about the driver when your ride is late…I just…find it charming,” he admitted to her.

When he was late, or struggling to make it to the bench, he found her at his side, helping carry his things and hold him steady.

One particularly rainy day, her bus arrived on schedule. It was the familiar slosh of the flowing gutters as it pulled close to the curb for her. The all-too-familar squeak of the door hinges as it swung opened for her. But she did not move. She did not enter. Her hand lay wrapped on his forearm, which held his umbrella sturdy to protect her the best he could from the elements.

“I’m not going in today,” she spoke coyly as the door shut and the sound of the bus driving down the road faded once again in the distance.

He couldn’t hold back his smile much longer. Her touch soothed him. Her delicate hands he had grown to fall in love with. And the sweetness in her voice like warm honey coating his soul.

“We can’t waste the day,” he found himself replying, “how about I take you to lunch…and then maybe dinner?”

“Nothing could make me happier, Jihyun,” she pulled her body in close to his as she spoke.

He could feel her steps in sync with his own. This wasn’t the first time he had taken her out. Not even the twentieth time…her feet and hands, her voice, her steps and the pitter patter they made next to his own feet…the way she walked was all too familiar.

Yes…this day was like many others he had come to share with her. And yet…he felt in his pocket, that hardness in the shape of a box. The velvet case with a ring inside.

It may have come to be a familiar day for them. But today, he would ask her to be his wife.

100daysofsurvivorvictim: Day 13

We all agree that @brycemcquaid IS Star-Lord, right?
Right.

In the comics, he really looks like him, but that design on the Telltale’s game, wow :O 
I’m using my comic style in this one, I really enjoy drawing in this style :D I should use it more often~

Black Butterflies

Pairing: Y/N/Tattoo-Artist!Calum

Rating: All

Request: No

Words: 1.700+

Summary: Trying to entertain a four year old can be hard at times when nothing seems to be right. But when Calum comes home and saves the day by drawing butterflies on his daughter just like real tattoos it seems to save the whole day

Keep reading

Beautiful? Me?! Aw shucks anon, you are too kind X3

While I completely agree that the MC in the game is almost too perfect at times, I feel like all you really needed to do for Jumin is to take his opinions and thoughts seriously and not write him off as a “typical rich corporate heir.”

And so, with manic glee induced from staying up too late for a few nights in a row, I present to you a sharp, sassy, tsundere, and crass MC who somehow manages to charm our resident cat mom ;)

WARNING: This MC is a potty mouth :P

-Admin Bloo

  • Personally, Jumin Han couldn’t understand what all the excitement was about around their new member.
  • Sure they could possibly hold a party again after a long time, but she wasn’t THAT great.
  • From what he had gathered from previous chatrooms, she was loud, crass and boisterous. And sweared way too much for her own good.
  • Hmm, since he put it that way, he could see why she got along with Luciel and Zen so much.
  • When he voices these opinions, he was immediately accused of being salty about her reaction towards his cat.
  • It is true that he was offended when he had graced the chatroom with a beautiful picture of Elizabeth III and the only thing she could say was “whatever” before changing the subject.
  • Frankly, he could care less about the lack of enthusiasm from her side. He was still going to send more of the pictures.
  • But that still didn’t erase the fact that she was the rudest and the most nonsensical woman he had ever met. It was as if she had grown up with no sense of dignity and grace.
  • She would nag him for every little expense he made; every time he gave extra work to Jaehee; and for basically every thing he did.
  • He felt so attacked. It was like she had joined the RFA to pick out every little thing he did wrong. And he already believed himself to be very efficient.
  • So why was it that he found himself amused at all the unique… names and threats MC spat out for every time Zen attempted to woo her?
  • And how could he have stayed up til 3 am simply having a “discussion” heated debate about investments and stocks when he had an early morning meeting the very next day?
  • Turns out she had a very good head on her shoulders and work as a very successful and shrewd financial advisor/planner.
  • He had to give her a little bit of respect after that night.
  • One night he had logged into that chatroom after a particularly stressful dinner, and upon finding Assistant Kang already there, started discussing various marketing schemes for a new line of cat clothing.
  • It was his luck that Zen and MC were on too; Zen had already started his tirade against prioritizing Elizabeth III over his overworked assistant. Jumin was already anticipating MC’s verbal abuse as well…
  • But strangely enough, MC had simply told Zen to shut up. and Jaehee to half-ass her work when it comes to anything related to cats, but that was besides the point.
  • Everyone in the chatroom was stunned. MC was seriously passing on roasting Jumin for the day?
  • When Zen asked why, the irritation in her reply was almost palpable.
  • “He is clearly too stressed to plan anything serious. Don’t you think that there might be a reason why he’s so fucking obsessed with his cat? I seriously don’t care to know, but if this is the only way he can relax, then LET HIM FUCKING RELAX!!”
  • Jumin felt his heart pound and forgot to breathe for a second.
  • How did she know?
  • MC logged out of the chatroom after that.
  • Jumin logged out as well, and before he knew it, he dailled her number.
  • Only problem was… he didn’t know what to say??
  • There was silence on the line for almost a minute until she responded with a soft “what?”
  • The softness of her voice cause his mouth to run dry, and he asked just as softly. “Are you okay?”
  • After a long sigh, she replied “Yes, I am. Are you?”
  • Her curtness snapped him back to normal. “Yes, but I would like to inform you that your little speech was a complete waste of energy on your part-”
  • “Listen here you son of a-”
  • “But thank you for that.”
  • That shut her up.
  • “It was just as you had said. I had a terrible meeting today and had been tense because of it.”
  • MC remained silent, and Jumin was almost about to hang up when she started talking quietly again.
  • “There is no need to explain. We all have bad days, and I was just pointing out what others were too blind to see.” But then he could hear the laughter growing in her voice. “But maybe, if you had said that at the chatroom in the first place instead of rambling about ANOTHER goddamned cat project that could potentially sink your business, then people would take you more seriously.”
  • Jumin had to chuckle at her gall. “Of course MC. I will keep that in mind. Good night.”
  • After dropping the call, he stared at the phone for a long time.
  • The new member was… truly one of a kind.
  • Thoughts of her and how different she was compared to ANY woman he had every met plagued his mind for the rest of his night.

To be continued…

Secretly Dating (Jeff Atkins)

Title: Secretly Dating

Pairing: Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request: Yes. Hope you like it.

Word Count: 1013 words

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: Y/n is dating Jeff, but no one knows. Not even her brother Clay, or her best friend Tony. What is going to happen? Will they ever find out?

Author’s Note: Thank you for all the love you give me. CONTINUE REQUESTING. Request more Alex please. Love you

“I don’t think Clay gets mad. He’s my friend.” Jeff said kissing all over your neck.

“Yes, and he’s my brother. My twin brother. I never hide him anything and he’ll be mad at me because I lied.” I told him a little angry and pulled him away.

“Hey it’s okay. I just want to you to be fine.” He smiled but I looked at the window.

“It’s getting late. We should go home before my mom starts freaking out.”

He started driving and I turned the radio on. I couldn’t pay attention to anything on the radio, I just wanted to hear noise instead this uncomfortable silence between us. We went to some dates secretly and now he tried to get serious with me. He was friends with Clay which was great but Jeff couldn’t understand how suddenly I drift away from Clay. He stopped talking to me like my brother, now we barely see each other.

“Can I see you tomorrow after practice?” Jeff asked taking my attention to his words again.

“I’ll see Tony at Monet’s. I’m sorry.” I leaned in near his face and I kissed him slowly. Then I opened the car’s door and got out.

“I love you. Don’t forget it.” He shouted and I smiled.

I got in the house and found everyone having dinner. I left my backpack on the entrance and joined them.

“How was the project with Sheri?” Mom asked.

“She brought you? She’s a nice girl.” Dad agreed. “She’s your friend right, Clay?”

“Umm, yes. But she didn’t say anything about you Y/n.” Clay take a bite of his meet and then looked at me.

“It was a project that came on my last class. That’s why she didn’t tell you. But it was good.” I told him and continue to look at my food.

Then I ate my food and they continued talking about their plans for tomorrow. I had to talk with Tony and I had to tell Clay the truth. By now, probably Tony already heard rumors around after Courtney saw me sneaking with Jeff out of the library. Maybe Clay already knew it. Guilt was eating me, I need to tell the truth.

“Can I get to my room? I’m exhausted.” Mom held my hand a second and then she nodded. “Thanks”

I got in my room trying to find a way to tell Clay and Tony about it.


Tony saw me and followed me until my locker where I hugged him.

“Hey, where were you last night?” He expressed a little concerned.

“I had to do some homework with Sheri. But we're​ going later to Monet’s, right?” I asked changing the subject. He nodded.

“Of course. I have to go with Clay. See you later.” He said and he left me there. Then Sheri came to me.

“Gosh. Tell me everything.” She asked and then we walked together to class.

“Nothing happened. Jeff had to study and I helped him. That’s all. Also thanks for agreeing to be my cover-up. You helped a lot.”

“Of course, but tell later everything about Atkins, okay?” She asked and then she went to sit next to some of her friends.


By the second hour, I had forgotten my book and the teacher didn’t allow me get in class. So I went to the gym where I found Bryce talking with Justin.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” Justin asked and they got closer to me.

“The teacher said I needed to bring my book to be in his class. That’s why I just went to walk around.” I explained and they smiled.

“You can borrow my book for the next hour. You have two today right?” Justin said and he gave me his book.

“I thought you’d be with Clay.” Bryce wondered and I looked at him confused.

“Why?”

“You didn’t hear it? He was about to have a fight with Jeff when Tony interrupted before a teacher did.”

“I should go with Clay. See you later guys. And thank you Justin for the book.” I rushed and ran to the parking lot to look for Tony.

Suddenly I saw him with Clay. He looked mad but I knew that I had to face this.

“Clay.” I rushed and I hugged him. He pulled me away and I knew something must be really wrong.

“When you were going to tell me that you were dating Jeff?” Clay yelled.

“Dude. Calm down.” Tony interrupted him.

“I promise I was going to tell you about it. But I had no idea how to do it. He-”

“He told me. And maybe I overreacted. But I’m angry because you don’t trust me anymore.” He murmured and I turned to see Tony.

“She loves you Clay. I bet she was just waiting a good moment. You haven’t had the best days lately. Also, he asked your permission to date her.” Tony agreed.

“Fine. I’m sorry Y/n.” Clay opened his arms and I hugged him.

“I love her. I promised I wouldn’t hurt her.” Jeff interrupted behind Tony.

“I know man. You helped me a lot, it’s fine.” Clay said and I smiled.

“They even look cute. I bet they’ll take the cutest couple title from Justin and Jessica soon.” Tony teased and I laughed.

“By the way, I have to go to class. See you later Clay.” I shouted and grabbed Jeff by the hand.

“Look.” Tony told Clay looking at us. “She’s happy, and you should be happy for them. He’s a good boy, and he won’t definitely hurt her.”

“I hope so. She’s my sister and his one of my best friends. I think I can handle this know. You knew it before Jeff told me after math?”

“I knew it because Bryce told me. But I just wanted you to be fine to know about it.”

“I guess I rather Jeff around my sister than Bryce or Justin.” Clay nodded to himself and then grabbed his backpack.

“I guess I agree with that too. Now let’s go to class.”

How would jason scott ask Billy out on a date asked no one ever?


He would use maps. He would randomally hand billy a map with pin points on them(all their favorite places theyve gone to together) and tell him to find the treasure at the end😊

Essays in Existentialism: Valentine’s Day

With Valentine’s day coming up, how about a themed Clarke and Lexa story?

The hospital swirled with the quiet steady of patients and doctors, all taking their time getting anywhere at all. Nurses stations filled with deliveries of bouquets and cards and chocolates, while the halls were littered with cardboard hearts and babies with little wings and bows. Reds and pinks of every shade and color turned the fifth floor into a haven of sappiness and commercial love.

Keep reading

The One

IMAGINE: If you asked Steve about his dream girl, his ‘the one’, he would have never described her, never even would have thought of her…funny how things work out.

[gif is not mine. based on the poem with the same name by lang leav. requests are open. this one shot is the first part to however many poetry inspired one shots i do.]  

warnings: none

words: 2.3 k+


‘I don’t want you to love me because I’m good for you, because I say and do all the right things. Because I am everything you are looking for…’

There was something in the way that she walked, she talked or the way she did anything that set him on fire. He’s never met a more infuriating person. A more different person than he was.

“I just don’t get why you’re being so emotional about this,” she rolled her eyes as she watched Steve sigh once again.

“(Y/N)…” Steve looked at the woman in front of him. The thick fashion magazine held in her hand, “Just because it’s not about fashion or tearing someone down does not mean that you shouldn’t care about this.”

She bit her lip, “It’s just Tony.”

“Exactly, he’s going to break her heart,” he explained. “She’s only a kid (Y/N).”

(Y/N) sat down next to him, “Look Rogers, it’s their life and she wants to be with him then let her. Just support her.”

“He’s just going to use her,” Steve spoke quietly.

In an instant (Y/N)’s demeanor change. Long gone was the somewhat caring girl, it was now replaced by her usual stance around him -cold, hard and unfeeling. “You watch your mouth Rogers, because I swear to god if you throw Tony’s past in his face, I will hurt you.” Her grip tightened on the magazine.

Steve turned around and looked into her eyes. There was anger underlying it, fire in her eyes. “She’s like a sister to me. He’s the type of person that can hurt someone.”

(Y/N) stood up sharply, and through gritted teeth she spoke, “And he’s like a brother to me Rogers.” She leaned forward, him leaning as she got closer, “You watch your mouth around me.” (Y/N) moved back and started walking away. “By the way, he’s the type of person that can only hurt someone if they’ve hurt him first, so maybe don’t judge on him when you don’t know all the facts.”

She walked faster to the door, slamming it as hard as she can.


‘… I want to be the one that you didn’t see coming. The one who gets under your skin. Who makes you unsteady. Who makes you question everything you have ever believed in love. Who makes you feel reckless and out of control. The one you are infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to…’

If you told Steve Rogers that one day he’ll wake up with a strange inkling that will soon lead to the discovery that he found (Y/N) attractive and that he actually liked her, he would have probably laughed in your face and politely say that ‘you’re crazy.’


That was the conundrum that he found himself in as he watched her laugh with Bucky and Sam. Of course he still found her annoying and judgemental, and the complete opposite of himself, as well as what he found attractive. But watching her laugh with his two best friends, her head thrown back without any care, her hips jutting out as she told off Sam for doing something stupid. There was just something about her that he couldn’t explain.

“Why do you keep staring at her?” Pietro asked as he stood next to Steve.

Steve turned to Pietro, “I just wanted to know how such a small girl can contain so much evil in her.”

“She’s not that bad,” Pietro started. “She’s only like that whenever she’s around you.”

“She criticizes everything that I do, from the way I walk or my clothes -did you know that she hates me wearing plaid? I apparently have the entire of plaid in my wardrobe.” He paused and looked at her again, “It’s just she’s so different from the women that I’m used to.”

“Why does that have to be a bad thing?”

Steve took a while  to come up with his answer. Opening his mouth to voice out something but every time he did Steve felt that it wasn’t the right thing to say. Finally he came to the conclusion, “It’s not.”

“Don’t you realize that maybe why you hate her is because you like her?” Pietro spoke, tilting his head towards her direction. When Steve didn’t speak, Pietro broke out into a huge grin and chuckled, “Fuck, you’re hell bent crushing on her! That’s why you’re staring at her so much with that stupid-loved up look on your face!” Steve glared at Pietro who wasn’t deterred by the intimidating look on the super soldier.

As Pietro walked away he saw that (Y/N)’s conversations with the boys has finished and started walking over to where he was. He saw her smile at him and he probably thought that she forgot that he was Steve Rogers.

“Rogers,” she greeted. She looked him up and down, “Not wearing plaid I see.”

“What is it with you and the plaid?” He groaned. He honestly couldn’t understand it. Plaid isn’t that bad and he didn’t have that many plaid shirts.

She shrugged, “I have something for you.” She walked past him, knowing that he would follow her even though she didn’t ask him. Her aura commanded him. Steve rolled his eyes. Typical.


When they reached her bedroom, he looked around apprehensively taking in her bedroom. It was nice, it was minimal barely any decorations. He walked to her table where a cork table was placed. He smiled when he saw that it was pictures of her and the Avengers scattered around what he guessed was mementos. “You kept this?” He pointed at the ticket stub in bottom left corner, one that was hidden behind everything.

(Y/N) turned around and saw that he was touching the ticket stub gingerly, “I had a good time.” She remembered the day vividly, it was when everyone was on their mission and she was stuck at the compound because she broke her arm, while Steve was struck with a fever. She was bored and she was stuck babysitting him, so she decided to take him to the MET when he was feeling better. Up until that day she didn’t know that they had anything in common, other than the fact that he was her match when it came to verbal sparring.

He found out that art is one of her biggest passions and that she wanted to become an art historian but certain things happened that led her to follow in her father’s footsteps. Steve remembered thinking that maybe she wasn’t the shallow, vapid girl he thought she was. Like an art piece there was always something meaningful behind everything.

Their days were spent talking about his past and how he felt about the future, watching movies from his time and her being surprised when he quoted Casablanca. He hesitantly revealed to her that it was one of the first movies that he saw when he came out of the ice.

Everything was fine until the others got back and they were back at their old habits again, though this time it felt less personal and more for a show.  


“Aha!” She proclaimed as she opened a drawer and pulled out a neatly wrapped present. It was blue and white, with a red bow on top. “Gotta have that Captain America theme,” she winked at him and passed him the present.

He opened the present slowly, trying carefully not to rip the paper. Once he saw what was wrapped, words got stuck in his throat. “(Y/N)…”

“Don’t start crying on me Rogers,” she warned but there was no malice in her voice.

He pulled the paper away. It was his drawing that he did of everyone, a drawing of a photograph that she and he both proudly displayed in their bedrooms. He thought he lost it when Natasha did her usual random clearing of everything in everyone’s rooms. “This is beautiful.” He stroked the frame, it was gold and one of those smaller frames that held priceless arts in the museums. “Thank you so much.”

She shrugged, thinking nothing of it. “Guess my barging into people’s rooms is a good thing.” She walked over to him, her heart filling with warmth as he gazed and touched the picture frame. “At least your abnormally large hands can create something good.”


As Steve left her room, he found himself in another conundrum. How did he get into this situation? How did he manage to find a person that was the complete opposite of him, the untraditional girl who set his soul on fire. The girl who he disliked with so much passion, the one who constantly bickered with him, manage to make him feel like he’s never felt before?


‘… I don’t want to be the one who tucks you into bed -I want to be the reason why you can’t sleep at night.’

When Steve was a young child he knew what love meant. It meant being there for the person that you cared for. It was easy. It was safe. There were no fights, if there was there was it would just be little bickers. Steve would come home, greet his wife and children and they would live happily ever after. He dreamt for that life, he yearned for it, even after he came out of the ice.

Then she came into his life and turned everything upside down. She was a constant thorn in his side that manage to somehow, overtime, turn into one of the most beautiful flowers he has ever seen. Maybe she wasn’t a thorn after all, maybe she was just a particularly prickly bud that he judged based on appearance, but after he got a closer look, after it took time, she turned into something else.


“Weren’t we supposed to have this massive epiphany that you liked me? Or you know someone makes this giant I like you speech and this is why I like you?” (Y/N) spoke as she chopped the carrot.

Steve shrugged, “You don’t like grand gestures.”

(Y/N) turned to face him, hand clutching the knife, “Excuse me! I do too like grand gestures, as long as they don’t embarrass me,” she started listing of things and Steve found himself looking at her. Really looking at her. The only time that he paid attention was when she pinched him. “Are you even paying attention?”

“Careful with that knife (Y/N),” he plucked it out of her hands and she rolled her eyes. “I didn’t have a great epiphany because the feeling was always there so I just woke up one day and went ‘oh, I like her’,” he finished his speech with a casual shrug.

He went back to chopping the onions, his peripheral vision allowed him to see that she was still in the same position. She picked up the knife and started chopping the carrots. “You’re such a sap.” Steve smiled as she said those words, it was her basically saying that she liked him as well.


“I don’t get why we can’t have steak (Y/N)!” Pietro yelled as he picked his food with his fork. “There are proteins that we need.”

“Because Tony decided that he wants to try vegetarianism,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “So we have to cater for the almighty Iron Man.” She threw a bean at him which he caught and smiled at her.

Steve sat next to her watching as she kept making faces at Tony, and not at all enjoying her food. He made a mental note to take her to Taco Bell after dinner. Maybe it was that moment that made him know that he really, truly, deeply in love with her. With her hair cascading down her face, and she made an aggravated noise when it fell in front of her face. Or maybe it was the way that she got along with other people, or maybe. There were too many maybe’s what he did know was that he wanted to say it out loud for everyone to know.

“Excuse me,” he spoke loudly as he stood up. “I just wanted to let everyone to know that I love (Y/N).” Steve could feel the glare from (Y/N), and the amused stares from the others. “I love her because she secretly loves me in plaid, she said so. The fact that she cries whenever that giraffe ad comes on, I love her-,” he didn’t get to finish as (Y/N) yelled at him. ‘

“STEVE GRANT ROGERS!” (Y/N) stood up, her face red due to embarrassment, but she couldn’t help but feel giddy and light inside.

“I also love her when she screams out my name just like that,” he winked at everyone and made a mad dash to the door.

“ROGERS!” With an ungraceful stand she began running after him, but not before flipping off everyone in the room, causing them to laugh louder.

She finally caught up to him, took her shoe off and hit him, “Did you just throw your shoe at me?” Steve turned around amused.

“I cannot believe you did that!”

“You said you loved grand gestures,” he teased as he picked up the shoe and started walking towards her.

“I specifically said that I hated grand gestures.”

He shrugged and wrapped his arms around her, “But I love you so I should get a pass for that.”

“The only people that get a pass for embarrassing me are the people that I love,” she smirked at him, hoping that he got what she was saying. She watched as he fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

“You love me,” she scowled at the shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’re an idiot.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, “But maybe I somewhat love you.” (Y/N) pressed her lips against his. Steve tightened his arms around her and smiled into the kiss.

“Guys, oh my god! Gross!” Sam yelled as he walked into the room and saw the couple heavily making out. Sam made a face and began gagging. “Get a room!” He made a disgusted noise and yelled at them once more and left the room.