#If its carried in the air i am allergic to it

[kuro-tsuki-san]

People have been talking about looking forward to masks no longer bejng required at work. I kinda understand but also. Im basically allergic to breathing so if anyone thinks they will be seeing my bare face in the wild again they are sadly mistaken.

[vodika-vibes]

The War Chest

A Magic and Knights AU

Summary: It’s been fifty years since the war between Mandalore and Serrano ended. A war that ended with an uneasy peace between the two nations…an uneasy peace that has since grown into something stronger. You are a daughter of one of the Noble Houses of Serrano, though only through marriage. You stand to inherit nothing from your step-family, unlike your mother. So, in an attempt to get your feet under you, you turn to treasure hunting.

Pairing: Pre Kix x F!Reader

Word Count: 5400

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @the-bad-batch-baroness

A/N: So, I know Kix already has a story in this AU, but I'm giving him another one that is unconnected from the last one. This one, I think, fits a little better with the rest of the stories. Also, there's a fun little twist at the end that I'm not sure about, honestly. Anyway, I started writing this at 8 am and it's now 2 pm, and I managed to write it without any breaks. Go me~

“Rumor has it,” You arch a single brow as the man you’re talking to, a pirate who you’ve had more than one run in with, “That Count Dooku’s War Chest has been discovered.”

You wave your hand as if brushing the rumor aside, “Everyone knows that Dooku’s War Chest was propaganda from Mandalore.” You counter with a roll of your eyes.

“That was the accepted fact. 50 years ago.” He leans into your space and you lean back to try and keep him from breathing in your face, “Come on, girlie. You’re not even remotely curious.”

“I’m far more interested in facts, Shen. Not fairy tales.”

“Bah! You’re no fun.”

“If you want someone willing to chase fairy tales, you should be talking to Lyna, not me.” You eye your drink, and then push it to the side.

“Lyna is an archeologist,” Shen counters bitterly, “She’s all, ‘this belongs in a museum’ and ‘we should return this to its rightful owner’. She’s even less fun than you!”

“Come on, you tell her about Dooku’s war chest, and she’ll be all over it,” You say as you lean back in your chair, “Can you give me anything more than fairy tales?”

“No.” He folds his arms, “You were more fun when you were running with the crew.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you’ve mentioned. If you’re not going to try and help, you can take off. Find some other patsy to do the research for you.”

Shen scowls at you, and then pushes to his feet and storms away. He hasn’t changed since you were kids, tragic but understandable. 

In any event, you’re not going to get any intel on your next score here. So you suppose that the archives is your next destination. Which is a shame, the archivists are always so annoying when you decide to visit. 

They’re all, “Oh, Lady Nalcin has come for a visit!” Which is annoying since, A, you’re not Lady Nalcin, that position belongs to your mother. And B, you don’t even carry that Nalcin last name, seeing as your father is still alive.

Mother just had to marry Serrano nobility, didn’t she.

You push away from the table and shove your hands into your pockets as you meander through the bar. You step through the open door, into the cool air of the autumn evening and you inhale deeply.

You love this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold, and none of the plants you’re allergic to are spewing pollen. If you could live someplace where it’s autumn year round, you’d be a happy woman.

Tragically, such places don’t exist.

You turn to the left, starting towards the inn you’re staying at for the time being, when you hear heavy footsteps behind you. You tense and half turn, your baton falling into your hand from where it’s stored in your sleeve. 

And then you turn properly.

The person running up to you looks like a college students, slightly younger than you, with wide eyes hidden behind thick glasses. She’s gasping for breath, and is barely able to say your name

But, garbled as it is, she does say your name. 

You slide your baton back up your sleeve, and take a good look at her. She’s well dressed, and she’s wearing a brooch that marks her as a daughter of one of the High Houses. She’s also nearly bent in two trying to catch her breath.

“...are you okay?” You ask, after watching her gasp for air for a moment.

“I-” She gasps out, “Not fit-” 

“...I can tell.”

The younger woman takes a deep breath and then straightens, “My name is Evie Wilsi, I’m the oldest daughter of House Wilsi. You are the daughter of Lord Nalcin, right?”

“Step-daughter.” You correct flatly.

“Yes. That.” She takes a step towards you, “You’re…something of an archeologist, right?”

“In a manner of speaking, sure.”

“I want to hire you!”

“...what?”

The girl flushes, “I…um…sorry. I would like to hire you, please.”

You stare at her and arch a single brow, waiting for her to continue.

“I want to hire you to find Dooku’s war-” You roll your eyes and turn your back on her to walk away, “W-wait!” She grabs your wrist and then scrambles so she’s standing in front of you, “I know that this sounds…insane-”

“Dooku’s War Chest doesn’t exist.” You say flatly, “It was a rumor. No more.”

“I have reason to believe that it does exist.”

You sigh and shake your head, “Look, Miss Wilsi, I don’t chase fairy tales. Period.” You tug your hand out of her loose grip and step around her to continue to the inn.

“2 million.”

You stop mid-step, and turn your head to stare at her, “I beg your pardon.”

Her hands are clenched into fists near her chin, “Two million credits. You’ll get two million credits just for taking the contract, and another two million when you find the war chest.”

You turn to face her fully, “And if the war chest doesn’t exist?”

“Then…then you’ll still get the second half of your payment. But only after you exhaust all avenues.”

“And you can afford this?” 

“Yes.”

Your eyes narrow at her, “Prove it.”

She nods and pulls out her comm, pulling up her banking information, before she turns the device towards you. You glance at the number on the screen and your brows raise, “Four million credits is almost your entire bank account, is this worth that much to you?”

“Yes.” She stows her comm again, “It’s…everything to me.”

You fold your arms, and shift your weight slightly as you examine her. Over the years, you’ve become very good at reading people. Part of it is your natural magic, an innate ability to read intentions off of people, most of it, however, is just experience. 

She’s being honest.

Not only does she believe that the War Chest is real, it really does mean everything to her.

You drop your arms, “Fine. But I want to be paid immediately.”

“Deal! Is there someplace we can…talk?”

You turn your back on her, and start walking away, and then you pause and glance over your shoulder, “Follow.” You don’t want to see if she’s following your instructions, you just start walking, your feet leading you to your favorite food cart.

“A…food cart?”

“Don’t knock it til you try it,” You reply as you order a caf and move to the side to wait until it’s done. Your maybe employer’s nose is scrunched up in distaste.

“Is this where you want to talk?”

“Surrounded by people? No.” You accept the cup of caf, and motion for her to keep following you. You lead her down several winding roads, and then make a sharp left into the biggest cemetery in the area.

You notice her hesitate at the gate, but you don’t slow down. If this means as much to her as she implies, as much as your magic is telling you it means to her, she’ll follow you anyway.

And you’re right.

Though she dithers at the gate for half a minute, eventually she hurries to catch up with you as you head into the older parts of the cemetery. As soon as you’re sure that there isn’t anyone around you can listen in on your conversation, no one alive at least, you perch yourself on the worn down stone wall and stare at the other woman.

“Alright. I’m all ears.”

“Here?” She asks, her voice hushed, “Isn’t it…disrespectful?”

You just tilt your head, “People don’t come to this part of the cemetery, which means no one can eavesdrop.”

“Right. Right.” Evie paces in front of you for a moment, and then she stops, “How much do you know of the Six Great Houses?”

“Assume I know nothing.”

“Right. Right! Okay. I can work with that.” Her hands curl into fists again, “There is a hierarchy to the six families, with House Dooku at the top of the pyramid, and House Wilsi at the bottom. House Nalcin is nearer to the top than the bottom.”

You lean back on the wall and take a sip of your caf, waiting for her to continue.

“This is why, 50 years ago, it was so easy for House Dooku to incite a war with Mandalore.” Evie continues.

“As I understand it,” You interrupt, “House Dooku was manipulated into it by what’s his face from Naboo.”

Evie looks genuinely pained, “You mean Court Wizard Palpatine?”

“That’s the bitch.”

She takes a deep breath, “You’re right. He was, and it was only after Count Dooku was killed that we were able to sue for peace-”

You sigh heavily, “Evie, what does this have to do with the price of chicken in Corellia?”

“...what?”

“Why does this matter?”

“Oh. Well, my family lost a lot of clout during the war…we sided with House Dooku. It seemed like a politically sound choice…so when the peace treaty was signed…we lost almost all of our status. We almost lost our noble name.”

“And?”

“And, finding Dooku’s war chest will do so much in helping us recover from this.”

“If it exists.”

“It does! It does. I’ve been researching this for years, my whole family has, and we have a solid lead.” Evie says as she steps closer to you, “It’s…here.” She digs into her purse and shoves a thin notebook at you, “All of the evidence is there, if you know where to look-”

You set your cup to the side and flip the notebook open, every page is filled with different handwriting. The notebook has clearly been in the works for years.

“Count Dooku had a safe house. He had many safe houses, in many different countries. But in the middle of the war, he vanished for three months. My family thinks he went to Hoth.”

You arch a brow, “Well, if that’s where he decided to hide his war chest, it explains why no one has found it.” 

“Yes! Exactly. According to records, Count Dooku’s safe house was up in the mountains of Hoth, which would be nearly impossible for anyone to traverse at the time-”

“It’s still impossible to traverse.” You point out, “The storms of Hoth never stop, and you need special gear and equipment to survive even the lower parts-”

“Yes, but you’ve done the impossible before.” Evie says, “I mean, you’re the one who found Palpatine’s palace in Mustafar-”

“You’re not wrong, I just hate that you mentioned it.” You mutter.

“Can you help?”

You stare at her, silently, for a moment, and then you sigh and nod. “Yeah, alright.”

“Really! Oh, this is-”

You hold up a finger, silencing her, “Several conditions. 1, I hold on to this for as long as it takes for me to read it cover to cover.”

“Deal!”

“2, you are coming with me. It’s the only way for your family to get all of the credit.”

“Of course. I’ll even pay for everything we need to survive-”

“3,” You interrupt again, “We can’t leave for 6 months.”

“...what! Why?”

“I’m not fool enough to try and climb a mountain in Hoth in the dead of winter. And good luck trying to find anyone who will.” You say flatly.

“...you raise a fair point. So we’ll head out in the spring.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Evie claps her hands together in excitement, “Oh! You won’t regret this! I promise.”

Your gaze drifts off of her, lingering on a dark thread connecting Evie with something else, a thread that only you can see with your magic, “Well,” You murmur, “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it.”

“Hm?” Evie tilts her head, “Oh! Right, payment.” She pulls her comm out and hurriedly, very hurriedly, sends you the two million credits that you’re owed for taking her contract.

You watch your bank account shoot up, and then promptly move the money from that account into your personal account, “I need your comm code,” You say once that’s done, “I’ll call you when we’re ready to leave.”

“I can’t wait!”

And then Evie is gone, hurrying out of the cemetery with none of the grace that you’d expect to see from a lady of her standing. 

You watch her leave, and then pick up your cup of caf and take a sip, while eyeing the notebook thoughtfully, “Well, it won’t be boring at least.”

7 Months Later

Hoth is a miserable place.

Frigid even in the dead of summer, with very few animals that won’t kill you as soon as they see you. 

True to her word, Evie did prepare everything that you might need for an expedition, and then some. You have a base camp, vehicles that are suited for the freezing weather, and cold weather gear that is light enough to move in, yet heavy enough to protect you from the biting wind.

There are also people. So many people. Aides and attendants, and bodyguards. Not to mention maids and chefs and butlers. You’re not impressed, at all.

“So, I was thinking we’d go up the mountain in the morning?” Evie says, her eyes alight with some emotion that you don’t want to think too hard about.

“Mm, bad idea.” You reply, as you eye a group of men that you know come from a Merc Group, “There’s a bad storm rolling in, we go out in it, we don’t come back.”

“Oh, really?” She glances at the monitor and makes a face at the massive storm rushing in, “I should tell the others to prepare for the storm.” Evie mumbles, before she gets to her feet and hurries out of the room.

You’re alone for a moment, before one of the mercs brushes past you. “You should know,” He murmurs, his voice low, “The moment you find this treasure, we have orders to remove you from the equation.”

“Hmm.”

“You saved my life that day on Taris, this is me returning the favor.”

“Noted.” He glances at you, and then continues walking. The exchange took less than 5 seconds. 

Luckily, you prepared for this exact scenario. 

It’s not like this is the first time a client has betrayed you, after all.

You remain in the monitoring room for a bit longer, watching the storm build and grow in strength, and then, when you’re sure it’s late enough, you meander to your “room”. 

You waste some time in your room, packing what few items you need to be able to survive in the storm, and then you cut out the lights, and you wait. 

One hour passes. And then two. 

And finally the lights dim in the hallway, and you know it’s time to go. 

You don the severe weather gear that you bought yourself, grab your bag, the notebook, and you slip out the window.

As you figure, you have about five hours before anyone notices that you’re missing, and by the time they notice you’re gone, the storm will have erased any and all evidence of where you might have gone. 

You walk quickly through the snow, wanting to get as far as you can before the storm hits. Though, you do take the time to veer towards a ravine just long enough to toss the notebook as well as a decoy pack down the ravine. With luck, anyone chasing you will think that you succumbed to the storm and nature.

The trick won’t work for long, but it will buy you a couple of hours, at the minimum. 

That done, and with a storm moving in, you veer towards the mountain range. According to some of the notes you decoded, Count Dooku had pathways dug through all of the mountain ranges. You just need to find an entrance.

Luckily for you, Dooku wasn’t half as clever as he thought he was, and you were able to find an entrance in less than two hours. Unluckily, the passageways aren’t heated or lit.

You dig around in your pocket for your lamp sphere and light it with a touch of magic, ordering it to circle your head as you walk through the empty tunnels. 

“Let’s see,” You say, aloud, to yourself, “If I was Dooku and needed to hide a war chest, where would I hide it?” You look around, peering down identical dark passages, and you sigh.

If you have to search every passage, you’ll be here for ages. There has to be an easier way.

You close your eyes for a moment, and focus your magic on your eyes, and then open them again.

Your natural magic isn’t the most useful for your chosen career path. You can see intentions, which is useful in foreign countries when it comes to bartering and when dealing with clients. 

It is an innate magic, you don’t have to focus on it at all.

However, if you focus your magic on your eyes, and if you’re lucky, sometimes you can see traces of people’s intentions. Memories, written on the world around them.

It’s a desperate act. Dooku has been dead for almost fifty years. The odds of any of his intentions having been strong enough to leave an echo so far into the future is…unlikely, but you have to try.

As you fear, there’s no hint of intention in any of the passages.

You’re about to power down your magic, when you catch a glimpse of something higher than where you are. You focus your gaze on the dim glow and you frown.

The intention is…strong, but faint at the same time.

You puzzle through what you’re seeing. Strong implies that someone is actively in the passages with you. But the faintness implies…slumber, perhaps. Maybe someone lives in these passages.

Well, it’s better than continuing blind.

So you mentally mark the location in your head, and you start heading that way.

It takes time, though, to find the right path that will take you to the right level. The passageways were designed as a labyrinth, and you wonder if the passages aren’t complete, or if Dooku was just that paranoid near the end of his life.

You’ve never heard one way or the other. 

But finally, after many dead ends, several looping paths, and one time when you thought you were going up but were actually going down, you reach a door.

You send a silent prayer to the patron god or treasure hunters, and then push the door open. 

It creaks loudly, and another hard push causes it to fall inwards. “Whoops.” You whisper as dirt and dust swells around you. You wave the dust away from your face, and then step into the room properly.

It’s…empty.

Well, okay. Not really empty.

There, sitting in the middle of the room, is a massive crystal formation.

It looks man-made, to your eyes. Crystals don’t generally grow in such a deliberate way, at least not in your experience.

You move closer to the crystal and circle it, your eyes narrowing thoughtfully. 

Now that you’re closer, it looks like there’s something inside it. You press your hand against the stone and try to peer through the cloudy material, but you might as well be trying to look through a solid wall. 

You rip your gloves off, and press your bare hands against the planes of the crystal. Slowly you feel around the edges of each plane you can reach. And then…there, near the bottom, on the opposite side of where you started, you find a single sigil carved into the crystal.

Now, sigils and runes are basic magic.

It is, quite literally, magic 101.

But you’ve never been interested in modern runes or sigils, preferring to focus more on the more ancient versions that you normally encounter while on your treasure hunts. 

That said, runes are runes, right?

They all get activated in the same way.

So you pull your hand back and summon a small amount of magic to your fingertips, and press your fingers against the sigil. “Please don’t be a bomb.”

For a moment, nothing happens, and then there’s a loud crack. And then another one. And a third. 

And you’re forced to dive out of the way as the crystal shatters, sending large shards crumbling to the ground.

Then you see what was in the middle of the crystal, and your heart sinks.

It’s a man. Maybe about the same age as you, or a bit older, with a strict military cut and a five o’clock shadow. He’s wearing mandalorian armor, with the symbol of the medical corps on his shoulders.

You hurry over to him and kneel next to his head as he releases a low groan. You push your hood off your head, and tug your scarf down and goggles up as his eyes flutter open.

He looks like-

Your lips turn down in thought. 

“Hey, can you hear me?” You ask, shoving your concerns to the side.

“Y-yes,” His voice is raspy and he blinks a couple of times, as if trying to clear his vision.

“What’s your name, soldier?” You ask, as you help him sit up.

“Kix…M’name is Kix.” He groans as you sit him up and he looks around the room, and then at you, “Your accent…you’re not Mandalorian.”

It’s not a question.

“Good ear,” You pull your bag off your back and dig through it, please let you have enough cold weather gear for him. “I’m Corellian, born and raised.” Kriff, you don’t. 

Kix looks around, sharpness sliding through his gaze as he shakes off the sleep, “This isn’t Corellia.”

“That is correct.” You reply, before cursing, “How good is that at keeping you warm?” You ask with a nod towards his armor, and the helmet laying half forgotten in the shards of crystal.

“Good enough.” He lets out a pained groan as he gets to his feet, “Why?”

“Well, because it’s a wee bit chilly outside, on account of us being in Hoth.” You reply dryly and you stand and grab his helmet. You make sure that there aren’t any crystals inside the helmet and you offer it to him.

“...Hoth?”

“The one and the same.”

“What is a Corellian doing here?” Kix asks suspiciously.

“Well, I was hired to find Dooku’s war chest.” You glance at the crystal shards, and then at Kix, “And I found it, apparently. I’m not generally in the business of saving people, but I suppose I’ll make an exception.”

“...what?”

You glance to the side when you hear, what sounds like, magic explosions, “Times up, I’m afraid.” You look around, and then find another door, “This way, hopefully this door stood the test of time better than that one.” You pull your scarf and hood back on, “Put your helmet on, it’s freezing.”

Kix pulls his helmet on, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “What’s going on? What’s with the explosions?”

You glance at him, before you focus on the door, “Oh. My former employers. The Wilsi family from Serrano. I was informed that they were going to kill me once I found the War Chest, so I decided to cancel the contract.”

“You keep mentioning this war chest, what is it?” Kix asks as he walks over to you and helps you open the door wide enough that the pair of you are able to leave the room. 

“Well, unless we find a vault full of riches, I think it’s you.”

Kix pauses, “What?”

You glance at him, “There’s no easy way to say this, but it’s been 50 years since the war between Serrano and Mandalore ended.” He freezes, and you quickly tug him out of the room and shut the door, “Listen to me, Kix, I know that this is a shock to you. I know that. But if we don’t start moving, we die here. Can you contain your totally understandable freak out until we’re somewhere safe?”

It’s kind of eerie, having that blank helmet staring at you, but slowly Kix nods, and you release a sigh of relief.

“Come on, this place is like a maze. Maybe we can use that to our advantage.” You turn to the left, and Kix falls into step behind you. 

All you have to do is find a way out, and make sure that neither you, nor Kix, die. And then, somehow, get him back to Mandalore.

No pressure.

“Can we take a break, please?” Kix asks as he helps her close another door, leaving the pair of them in a slightly warmer room, “I can’t hear the explosions anymore.”

She frowns, though it’s only noticeable because she pulled her scarf down a little bit ago. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve apparently been in stasis for fifty years-” And isn’t that a kicker, how is he supposed to deal with that? How can he deal with that? His brothers are all going to be in their 70s- “I just need a break, that’s all.”

She nods, and tugs her hood down, before she sits on a rock, stretching her legs out in front of her. Kix watches her for a moment, before he sits on another rock, “So…who are you, anyway?”

She blinks, and then laughs, “Sorry, I never actually introduced myself, did I?” She introduces herself with a slightly crooked smile, “My mother would have my head for such rudeness.”

“And what is it that you do?”

“I’m an archeologist. Technically. That’s what my degree says at least.” Her name, something long and complicated, does not suit her at all. So Kix makes a mental note to just call her runi, and then moves along.

“That sounds like you don’t actually do archeology, runi.”

“Eh, I go to old places and look for old things to sell to people who would rather stay safe than do things.” She waves her hand.

“Ah.”

“What?”

“You’re a tomb robber.”

“I am not!”

“Oh, so you have permission to take these items then.” Kix asks.

“I…well..not exactly. But I haven’t exactly been denied permission either-”

Kix smirks, “Tomb robber.”

“Yeah…well..what do you do?”

“I’m a medic. A perfectly respectable career that isn’t illegal.” Kix replies.

She huffs, but doesn’t respond, so Kix takes it as a win. 

“So, I assume you have a plan?” He asks, “To get us out of this mess.”

“I have a broad idea of what needs to happen, but as for the details…not so much.”

“...what?”

“Why plan? I mean, they never work out like they’re supposed to.” She shrugs, “But in the end, I do intend to get you back to Mandalore.

“And you’re going to do this without a plan?” Kix asks.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

He heaves out a sigh and then stands and pulls his helmet back on, “Maybe I should stick around with you. Stars know how you haven’t been killed yet.”

“Rude,” She scowls at him, but scrambles to her feet and pulls her cold weather gear on as well, “I-” She pauses and her head snaps to the side, “Motherkarking-...they’re planning on blowing up some of the tunnels. We need to go up and…over, I think.”

“Then let’s go. I’ll follow you.”

Kix watches as she leads him through the winding halls, pausing every now and then as though she’s following a path that only she can see. Having some kind of magic would make her survival a lot more understandable, all things considered.

He very nearly stumbles as a massive explosion makes the whole mountain shake, and Kix has to tackle runi through a door to keep them both from being crushed. 

Turns out to have been a good thing, as the room they ended up in had a single set of stairs that lead somewhere else. It’s good enough for Kix, as he hoists runi to her feet and ushers her to the stairs and up.

And up.

And up.

Finally she throws open a door at the top of the stairs and they find themselves in a workshop of some kind.

“This must be where Dooku did his magical studies,” She notes as she peers at some of the books lining the walls. 

“Wouldn’t there be a teleportation circle in here somewhere?” Kix asks, thinking back to the wizards tower back in Mandalore.

“Well, yeah. Probably. But I’m not wizard, I might be able to make it trigger it’s last destination, but-”

“This mountain is coming down, like it or not. Anywhere is better than here.”

“Ugh…fine! Help me find it.”

The pair search frantically around the room, before Kix lets out a shout of triumph. “Found it!” Runi hurries over to him and, with Kix’s help, clears the teleportation circle. 

“Um…let’s see, it looks like it’s set to teleport somewhere…west?” She says as she scans the runes.

“West is good enough.” Kix shoves her into the circle as the building trembles, “Can you activate it?”

“Can I activate it.” She scoffs, “Of course I can activate it, but I have no control over where we land.”

“Better there than here,” Kix points out logically, and she makes a face, but clearly doesn’t disagree.

The runes start to glow, faintly at first, and then brighter. 

Runi pulls her hands away from the seals, her eyes widening in panic, “Oh…oh bad…”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Um…” She turns panicked eyes on him, “The runes and sigils are reacting to the magic of the explosions…they…this is bad.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Kix asks, and runi opens her mouth to reply, but before she can say anything the teleportation circle activates.

It’s the most painful thing that Kix has ever felt in his life, and he’s almost grateful when he blacks out.

His last coherent thought is that he hopes runi is okay.

Kix wakes with a groan, this is beginning to become a habit for him. His everything is throbbing in pain, and it’s funny but his first thought was to question where his armor went.

“Easy there, vod. You’re okay.”

Kix squints at the man, one of his brothers, “-where?”

“You’re on the Resolute. We found you and the civvie passed out near a bombed out building. Seems like you threw yourself over her to save her.” Kix blinks a couple more times and finally he recognizes Vacc, one of the men he trained.

“...civvie?”

Vacc helps Kix sit up, and there’s a slightly jarring sensation when he realizes that he doesn’t recognize the medical bay. It’s…whiter and starker and has a lot less magical healing equipment than he’s used to. “Over there.” He motions to runi clad in some kind of medical attire, “She hasn’t said a word since she woke up.”

She’s curled up on the bed, her knees pulled up to her chin and her hands tangled in her hair. She lifts her gaze to meet his, and as soon as their gaze meets, her gaze darts to the portside window.

Kix follows her gaze, and his breath catches in his throat.

The Resolute was a sea-faring vessel. 

But, for whatever reason, the Resolute seems to be in space. 

No wonder she’s so freaked out. “Where…” Kix pauses to clear his throat, “Where are we going?”

“Coruscant.” Vacc claps his shoulder, “Get some rest, vod. We’ll be back at the barracks before we know it.”

And then his brother is gone, and Kix pins runi with a stare, “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” She sounds miserable, “The explosion must have mixed with the magic of the teleportation…I don’t know, Kix.” She winces and clamps her hands over her ears.

“Okay, okay. Runi, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“How can you stand it?”

“Stand what?”

“The screaming.”

“What screaming, there’s no screaming-” She wraps her hands around his wrists as soon as he’s close enough, and then he hears it, high pitched and constant, as though someone, somewhere, is screaming in unending pain.

When she releases him the screaming stops, but she just tightens her hands over her ears.

“It…it’s going to be okay, runi. We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Kix casts his gaze back to the window, just as a slightly mechanical voice echoes through the ship, “Preparing to jump into hyperspace in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”And the galaxy outside the window fades into streaks of white and blue as Kix folds his hands around runi’s hands, trying to help her block out the screaming.

[rose-tinted-vision]

Tales from Tianji Manor

Relationship: Fang Duobing/Li Lianhua/Di Feisheng

prev/read it on ao3/next

“What do you think of Di Feisheng?” her husband asks her that night.

“A-Fei is a good kid,” she replies firmly, giving her husband a look. He may be a little prejudiced, but she trusted that Fang Zeshi was a good judge of character, and only wanted the best for their son, “He treats Xiaobao and Xiaohua well, and he is just trying his best to live, like the rest of us.”

Fang Zeshi frowns, considering her reply. 

She takes his hand in hers, gently urging him to look at her. She had chosen him because he had been sincere in wooing her back then, had treated everyone around him with the due respect that they deserved, regardless of their social rank. She trusts that he would extend the same treatment to Xiaobao’s chosen people too.

“Just watch, and you will see what I mean,” she says.

—

Her husband stays for the week, the Emperor having given him the week to spend with his family.

And so they watch.

They watch how A-Fei silently carries a mountain of blankets from Xiaobao’s room across the courtyard to where the Lotus Tower is parked, gently tucking them around Xiaobao and Xiaohua who have fallen asleep in their home.

They watch as A-Fei chops up the chives that Xiaobao hands to him, expertly handling the knife with the air of someone who has been handed the same task multiple times, setting them back next to Xiaobao, who shoos Xiaohua away from the kitchen with a wooden ladle. 

They watch as A-Fei tags along with both of his boyfriends to the market, trailing behind them as they return with his arms full of bags of all sizes, occasionally stealing a bite from Xiaobao’s scallion pancake.

Fang Zeshi smiles at the sight of his son and his boyfriends, happy and content with each other and at peace, despite himself.

—

“He treats Xiaobao well,” her husband admits, as they retire to bed, “but does he trest you and Xiaofeng well too?”

She knows that he bears no ill will towards A-Fei, not after he had gained her husband's recognition, that he was simply looking out for her, looking out for the peace of the family that they had built, and so she nods patiently.

“He remembers my favourite dishes, what I am allergic to, and respects the house rules.”

It is the truth, as Fang Zeshi would witness the following day.

A-Fei shows up for breakfast with a sleepy Xiaohua and Xiaobao trailing behind, settling in his usual seat at Xiaohua’s left side. He snatches up the soy sauce before Xiaobao dumps too much into his bowl in his half-awake state, adding just the right amount for him instead, and offers to pour her tea.

He Xiaohui accepts the cup of tea with a smile, which he awkwardly bows his head at. 

His posture is more tense than usual, she notes- likely due to the presence of her husband, someone who A-Fei did not know how to act around, someone who he had only interacted with a couple of times.

Her husband, for his part, was watching A-Fei with a contemplative expression. Not open distrust, like the last time they ate together, but not quite acceptance yet. 

Xiaobao, still sleepy as he was, had noticed A-Fei's discomfort, and drew his father's attention away from him with the topic of the Emperor’s latest policies following Shan Gudao’s attempted coup.

—

“Our Xiaobao really loves them,” is Fang Zeshi’s conclusion that night, expression exasperated yet fond, as they watch Xiaobao spar with A-Fei. Their nightly spars draw quite the audience, a dance so graceful that it has the servants halting in their duties to watch.

“He does,” He Xiaohui replies. Her Xiaobao had never been one to hide his feelings well- if he liked someone, it was plain for all to see. If he hated someone, anyone within a five meter radius could tell.

Like mother like son, her husband had once remarked. 

“Li Xiangyi…really does not plan on returning to the jianghu?” 

He Xiaohui straightens at the question, a familiar protectiveness rearing its head as she sizes up her husband, “is that Minister Fang asking, or Fang Zeshi asking?”

Fang Zeshi, to his credit, does not flinch under her glare.

“I think you know the answer yourself,” He Xiaohui sighs, casting her gaze to the man sitting with Zhan Yunfei, both men equally riveted by the duel before them. 

“Li Lianhua,” she stresses, which Fang Zeshi looks properly chastised by, “really just wants a quiet life with his partners. You can tell the Emperor that.”

“Okay,” her husband sighs, “okay.”

Not quite acceptance, but not outright disapproval either.

Half the battle won, like she had once told Xiaobao

[performing-personhood]

Yall already know I'm An Old™️ but join me now because I'm indulging in a little foray into my Oldness.

I don't think "hipster" has been a thing for a while, but I assume we all understand that hipster is defined as "someone who is a pretentious snob about something innocuous." It's the sneering superiority of a "I liked it before it was cool, you hadn't heard of it". Right? Ok so now that we've defined our terms, we can move on.

So, I allow myself the luxury of being a hipster about precisely two things, and two things only. Because I actually did like them before mainstream culture got a hold of them, and I never won't be a tiny bit giddy when I think of where we started vs what it is now.

Good Omens is the first one. I wouldn't be diagnosed with adhd until my mid-thirties, which I mention because it should carry some weight when I say that this novel remains the only book I ever read cover-to-cover eight times. If I had to shortlist five my favorite novels, Good Omens would easily make the cut. The show is the ultimate book-to-screen adaptation of all time, including Peter Jackson's "Lord of the Rings," and I've got a little tent and plenty of rations and I am ready to die for my cause on this hill. My beloved first edition and its crumbling dust jacket are prized possessions. I am so proud to have known her when.

But the second one, oh I'm proud of that one too.

When I was a teenager, I read a book by an author named Gregory Maguire. I couldn't put it down. It was captivating, painting a picture of an innocent life borne of a drug-using, neglected and neglectful mother. A life lived as best they could under unending prejudice and cruelty, which produced a person so misunderstood that even their attempt at social good was painted as evil, even when they were only trying to protect their paraplegic sister. Whose oldest friend put ambition and homewreckery before a friendship that stretched back into adolescence. A person who lost absolutely everything and then their life, only to live on in the infamy of a twisted and maligned legacy. The story of a girl born with horrible birth defects: deathly allergic to water, and skin the most peculiar shade of green.

I had never before read a story told from the villains point of view, especially not one that corrected me so firmly on my definition of "villain." It changed me.

Anyway, Wicked is finally getting its movie after easily a decade of murmur and rumor. I wish I could tell you all how giddy and handflappy and feet-kicky I got when the trailer aired unexpectedly. I don't even care if the movie is hot trash, I will be happy to see its evolution regardless. Because after all, I know the truth, I was there at the beginning..... I liked it before it was cool.

By the way, and I'm sorry to be This Guy, but if you've only seen the musical then you have missed half the story, because the original ending could not be fit into the format of a stage musical. They had to Disney-fy it in order for the story to work (a choice I do not begrudge them.) The original ending ripped out my soul through my teeth. I still think about it.

[irrfahrer]

“ Suprise Visitor “ (from siri)

Send me “ Suprise Visitor “ for My Muse ( Ask Reciever ) to open their door and see Your Muse ( Ask Sender) standing there, injured, beaten up, exhausted and looking for Help.

OR: Send me “ Suprise Visitor Reverse “ for Your Muse ( Ask Sender) to open their door and see My Muse ( Ask Reciever ) standing there, injured, beaten up, exhausted and looking for Help.

The second something moved behind the door the Reeksa AiAia lifted one of their small flower heads and started to snarl like a guarddog. Ziv had placed the small transperisteelcontainer she usually carried bound to her rucksack on herback as always by the door for the plant to keep watch, yet even without the Reeksas warning snarl, Ziv would have known that someone was before her door and she would have known who was behind her door. She recognized her smell. She would have recognized the smell ten miles against the wind in the middle of a lively and a as busy as a beehive marketplace.  Accordingly the Tynnan sat down the Holobook she had been reading in while sitting by the small oven she had sat up in the middle of the round cabine and walked over to the door. On her way she took another sniff from the air: SHe smelled blood that was two days old and coming from a wound that had stopped bleeding but had not been properly cleaned, she smelled the by sweat drenched clothes of the woman that were so soaked with adrenaline that the stench stitchd into the young womans nose like needles, and she smelled dust sticking to Siri from the  snow of the icedesert surrounding the starhangar in a white embrace.  Nimbly Ziv climbed the chair she had put up beside AiAia , so she could reach the doorkpenal and make the door shift open- it was cold outsdide-, comfortably for someone like Ziv but very cold for someone who was not born to swimm in frozen oceans. The young woman could now smell the blood frozen on SIris clothes better and she leaned her shoulder on the doorframe casually, now with the other woman on eyelevel while stillstanding on the chair:

“Aw, look what the kriffing Loth-cat dragged in. Which is surprising, because I do not have a kriffing Loth-cat and in fact I am pretty sure I will react allergic to Loth-cats fur, or a loth-cat will react allergic to my fur and I am not in the mood to have a shed-competition with a kriffing pet." The Reeksa stretched their long ranknecks up to look at the newcomer, now hissing like a cat to ward off the newcomer. Ziv purred at the plant calmingly, before she pointed over to the sleepingmattress she had put down in the forest of potted plants she had raised inside the small cabine: " But anyways, yeh I am kriffing seeing you, I am kriffing smelling you, its kriffing late, and its not the kriffing first time this is happening so lets go after our routine and come in, so I can take care of you, sweet pup.”

[ @memcriaes ]

[bethestaryouareradio]

Spring

“All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first

warm day of Spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I

can feel its energy, and my spirits soar.”—Helen Hayes

The minute the air warmed, I headed to the garden. Spring is finally here and without a doubt, it is my favorite season. This year it is especially meaningful because, this, my first spring article, is the 500th column that I’ve written for the newspaper. Yes, you read that correctly. Thank you all for reading and commenting.

People often ask me where I get my ideas for new columns. The simple answer is–in nature. When I am out in the garden I am totally focused on the tasks at hand. I listen to the bird songs, the rustling wind, the mooing cows, the fluttering leaves, and the croaking frogs. No earbuds, music, or podcasts while I’m working because the sound of the outdoors helps me be present to ponder.

Before I go out, I slather on the sunscreen and fill my water canister so that I stay hydrated while weeding, seeding, and feeding. When it is cold, I’ll wear long pants and a sweatshirt, but when it gets hot, I prefer a tank top and shorts.

This is what my garden gear consists of:

* Two pairs of gloves: a pair of surgical gloves underneath my garden gloves

*An Insect Shield® permethrin-infused kerchief wrapped around my neck to keep the ticks away.

*A scarf on my head with a ball cap or sombrero covering it.

*My garden apron with pockets for my pruning shears, sunglasses, and seeds.

*Rubber boots with two pairs of socks.

In past years, before I donned the Insect Shield® permethrin-infused kerchief, ticks would attack my neck. Three times ticks had to be surgically removed because they were too close to vital organs. This past week, on day three of the warm weather, I worked in a tank top. Alas, a tick tagged me on the shoulder. I only noticed it after my shower.

Tick Talk:

A word of caution for the year—ticks are everywhere. They hide in grass, trees, bushes, and weeds. They are bloodsuckers and will attach themselves to you and your pets. They also can migrate from you to someone else or to/from your pet. After being in the garden, make sure to wash your clothes, and your body, and check for ticks. If you find one, do not twist or squeeze. Use a sharp, clean tweezer to lift the tick, and don’t touch it with your hands. Wash the area thoroughly with soap and water and apply alcohol. Ticks carry bacteria and can cause Lyme disease, Rocking Mountain spotted fever, and other diseases. If you can’t remove the tick, call your physician as soon as possible. Contact your doctor if you experience an allergic reaction. The longer the tick is in your body, the higher your chances of an infection. If possible snap a photo of the tick and put it in a jar or Ziplock bag to show the health care professional. According to the California Department of Public Health, “An infected western black-legged tick must be attached to a person and feed for at least 24 hours before it can transmit the bacteria that cause Lyme disease.” Find more information at cdph.ca.gov.

The tick I pulled from my shoulder was small and I couldn’t save it or photograph it. Yet, my shoulder is still swollen and sore from the toxins. I will now follow recommendations to apply 20% DEET before going into the fields. I will also wear Insect Shield® permethrin-infused long sleeves, despite the heat.

Spring Action:

We have much work to do now that spring has sprung. It is time to get our hands in the dirt. In one week, we experienced torrential rain, followed by hurricane-force winds, and then the sweet sunshine of perfect days. The wild weather reminded me of a quote from Mark Twain:

“In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours.”

Weeds sprouted like beanstalks while flowers, shrubs, and trees burst from bud to bloom. It’s going to be a long and arduous task for me to weed my hillside as the flowers and weeds are intermingled which means that each weed must be plucked by the root by hand. No weed whackers allowed else all the flowers and perennials would be destroyed.

What’s on your to-do list?

For more gardening advice for all seasons, check out Growing with the Goddess Gardenerat https://www.CynthiaBrian.com/books. Raised in the vineyards of Napa County, Cynthia Brian is a New York Times best-selling author, actor, radio personality, speaker, media and writing coach as well as the Founder and Executive Director of Be the Star You Are!® 501 c3 which was just honored as the 2024 Nonprofit of the Year by the Moraga Chamber of Commerce. Tune into Cynthia’s StarStyle® Radio Broadcast at www.StarStyleRadio.com. Her newest children’s picture book, Family Forever, from the series, Stella Bella’s Barnyard Adventures is available now at https://www.CynthiaBrian.com/online-store. Hire Cynthia for writing projects, garden consults, and inspirational lectures. Cynthia@GoddessGardener.com  

Share StarStyle® Empowerment

[evermoresversion]

FALLING FOR YOU, CONRAD FISHER. CHAPTER ONE.

A/N Thank you so much to the person who gave me the idea of doing this series.

PAIRING Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Fluff, implied sex, slight angst.

SUMMARY You are best friends with Belly. Conrad is Belly's great impossible love. The two meet and fall in love with each other, what bad could happen?

SONG Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | CONRAD'S MASTERLIST | SERIES' MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

If you had been told that on your first visit to Cousins you would fall madly in love, you wouldn't have believed it.

But in fact you did, although you tried to suppress it at first since it was the boy your best friend has been in love with all her life.

Conrad Fisher. Conrad fucking Fisher.

It seemed absurd to you that Belly spoke so dreamily about the boy, because for you he was just that, just another boy.

But damn his charms, the way in which little by little he knew how to make you fall in love with the small gestures he had with you, such as remembering what you were allergic to or something as simple as your favorite flavor of chewing gum.

Damn Conrad Fisher.

"Close your eyes." He ordered once while the two of you were lying on his bed in his room. There was no one in the house and you wanted to take advantage of it to have more private moments where no one could discover the love affair that the two had.

You did as he asked and soon you felt his lips brush over your eyelid, giving a kiss that lasted longer than it should and he repeated the same process on your other eyelid. His lips wandered to your right cheek and then your left. All this while you swore your heart could burst out of your chest at any moment because of how fast and strong it was beating.

He kissed the tip of your nose and your jaw on each side. The side of your neck, throat, and the other side that hadn't yet fallen victim to the attention of his lips.

You sighed, feeling as if his kisses had remained tattooed on your skin, as if his lips were still on each of the parts of you that he had already kissed. And then the only place he hadn't kissed he did, he kissed your lips softly but deeply like only he could.

His hand remained on your cheek to hold you in place and his tongue made its way to your mouth to explore it. You could taste the mint of your toothpaste and the woody smell of his cologne that he always wore with a hint of Cousins' salty air drifted through your nostrils. It smelled like him.

You gently pushed him by the shoulders so you could take a breath while his eyes were lost in yours.

He was so fucking in love with you, he knew you brought out a better version of him.

It scared him but he wasn't willing to lose you or let himself be carried away by his intrusive thoughts, no, he loved you for good and wouldn't let you go.

"I—" he was cut off by the sound of the principal door opening, you gave him a small smile and he sighed, kissing your forehead one last time and getting off of you.

Of course you had to hide because, as cruel as it seemed, Conrad knew about Belly's feelings towards him, and although he had already let her know that he was not interested, the situation was delicate.

Plus it didn't help that you were Belly's best friend.

That made you stay awake at night, thinking and thinking about what you should do. And just when you thought leaving Conrad would be for the best he knocked on your door to remind you that letting him go was not an option.

"I'm yours, you know that, right?" He murmured, looking at you, his features being illuminated by the pale light of the moon as the tips of his fingers danced softly across your cheekbone.

"Yeah... and I am yours."

There were several nights in which he would sneak through the hallways of the summer house to sleep with you and wake up before everyone so that no one would discover you.

There was one time where Jeremiah almost discovered you both but luckily you were even faster.

Although he wasn't stupid and was starting to get suspicious.

"y/n, what's on your neck?" He pointed to his own and you frowned, leaving your spoon on the bowl of cereal to look at yourself through the front camera of your phone.

It was a fucking hickey that Conrad probably left from the night before.

"I accidentally hit myself with something." You nodded without looking at him and continuing with your breakfast.

"Sure, whatever you say."

That same afternoon Jeremiah and Conrad had agreed to go to the beach together for old times' sake, according to Jere, but what Conrad didn't know was that he was investigating.

And seeing the scratch marks on his back he confirmed it.

"Jeez, bro, were you in a fight with a cat or what?" He joked and Conrad looked at him confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"The marks on your back." He explained, pointing to them and immediately the previous night came back to Conrad's mind.

To not make noise and so that no one would know what you were doing, you took it all out, scratching your almost boyfriend's back.

And since then you and he agreed not to have sex at night and wait until no one was there. Plus the new rule of 'no marks or hickeys in visible areas'.

It was too late though and Jeremiah already suspected that you two were onto something.

But he let it go and moved on with his life.

Everything continued the same course until the day before the end of summer.

Everyone had decided to go to a party to celebrate. You were with Belly and the other friends you both had made that summer, and Conrad, Steven and Jeremiah were with their own friends.

Despite being on the other side of the room the tension between you and Conrad was palpable. His gaze caught your attention and apparently so did Belly's. She realized the way he looked at you and that it wasn't just friends, because she looked at him like that.

She didn't say anything at the time but made a mental note to ask you about it later.

The rest of the night you all drank, enjoyed yourselves and had fun together.

Back home everyone said goodnight and went to your respective rooms.

When everyone fell asleep, you sneaked this time to his room to spend what would be your last night together until the next time you saw each other.

"I don't want summer to end." You murmured close to his face. You were lying next to him and he was looking at you carefully.

"Me neither."

You slept cuddling each other and the next morning you woke up to get out of there.

Everyone had breakfast together and after that, everyone finished packing your things so that everyone could go home, ending the summer.

You said goodbye to Jeremiah and Susannah first, while the others were busy with them you took the opportunity to say goodbye to Conrad.

"So I'll see you later, Fisher." You smiled wistfully, gently punching his shoulder and he let out a laugh.

"Come here." He opened his arms and you let yourself be wrapped in them.

To everyone else, you were best friends even though you had barely met each other that summer.

But for you and Conrad that hug meant more. A promise that you would see each other soon.

You separated and smiled sideways, waving goodbye to him. "Bye."

He just waved goodbye and you waved goodbye to the other Fishers in the same way.

The ride home was silent as Belly fell asleep on your shoulder and Steven in the front seat was talking to his mother.

You would definitely look forward to the next summer or the next call you would have from him.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.

[sprinklesstylesdiariesmain]

A Day in the Life: Errands, Comfort, and Chicken Soup

Today is a day filled with chores, love, and a dash of comfort. With my family under the weather, I'm on a mission to gather ingredients and create a hearty homemade chicken and vegetable soup. But before I tie on my apron, let's talk about the outfit that will carry me through the day's errands, cooking, and yes, even that laundry I've been procrastinating.

Easy-Breezy Style

This HYZ Rompers sleeveless spaghetti strap romper, now in an indigo hue, is my trusty sidekick for days like today. It's effortlessly stylish and comfy – perfect for running errands. The color's coolness resonates with my spirit, especially on days when the clouds tease a touch of humidity into the air.

A Trendy Repeat

The Hixiaohe retro charm of my light blue denim jacket adds a trendy layer to my ensemble. It's like a stylish hug on a cloudy day. This jacket is all about versatility – it pairs perfectly with almost any outfit, offering both warmth and style.

Quick and Comfy

As I dash out the door, I slip into my trusty SDolphin shoes – a quick and comfy choice. On busy days like this, they're my go-to for getting things done. These sneakers are practical, and they allow me to move swiftly through the day's tasks.

The Citrusy Crossbody Fanny Pack is the unsung hero of this casual yet stylish ensemble. With its adjustable strap, it provides hands-free convenience for running errands, which is exactly what I am doing today. Still having all my essentials from yesterday packed this was the obvious choice for this busy day.

A Precious Gift

These Rachel Koen 14K Gold Star Stud Earrings have a special place in my heart. They were a gift from my best friend six years ago. I've worn them every day since then. Not only do they hold sentimental value, but they're also allergy-free and lead-free. I'm allergic to nickel, so these earrings have been a lifesaver.

Hummm another Sprinkles Classic

Running it back again, I go to my JENDEAR Layered Initial Necklace quick and out the door I go. It's a subtle yet meaningful connection to my family, something I cherish deeply.

Errands and Preparations:

Today's mission involves groceries for my chicken and vegetable soup – a heartwarming dish that brings comfort to my family. The ingredients must be fresh and wholesome, a reminder that simple meals can hold the deepest love.

Cooking and Family

Cooking is a passion of mine, as I am a graduate of Le Cordon Bleu. I am always tweaking family recipes and making them my own. I love building on flavors and sharing recipes. So, grab a pen and paper and take notes. I’ll leave the recipe down below. As I prepare the soup, even though it is a cherished family recipe, I love making improvements, with the plan to pass it down to my children one day, keeping our family traditions alive. Today's chicken noodle soup is not just a meal; it's a piece of our family's history and love.

September Fall Capsule

As we journey further into September, I've decided to preserve most of this outfit as a part of our September Fall capsule. A capsule collection, for those who might be unfamiliar, is like a curated fashion diary, capturing the essence of a season and the stories behind each piece. It's a way to navigate the ever-changing nature of fashion trends and embrace a more timeless, functional style. In this capsule, you'll find the delicate layered necklaces, the trusty sneakers, and the versatile denim jacket – each carrying with them a unique chapter of my style journey, infused with love, memories, and the changing seasons. It's a charming way to ensure that these pieces, each a part of my everyday life, become a part of yours too.

As I savor the warmth of my homemade chicken noodle soup and embrace the cozy comfort of my romper, I'm reminded that even amidst the busiest days, it's the simple joys that matter most. Whether it's a cherished family recipe, a favorite pair of earrings, or a well-loved romper, these everyday items carry the threads of our lives and connect us to the stories we create with our loved ones. I hope this glimpse into my day has brought a smile to your face and inspired you to find joy in the ordinary. Until we meet again, dear readers, may your days be filled with love, laughter, and a touch of elegance.

With love,

Sprinkles

Warmth, Style, and Family

[quosterswampdregs]

dude I'd kill for trunks + allergies, or allergies to fur + friend/partner/etc who has fur so if either/both of those spark any ideas for you, I'd love to see them.

A short drabble is attatched to this below!

Five, six, sehh…!

Kei set down their gigantic flag bag on the gymnasium floor, propped up against the college bleachers. Both arms reached above their head, naturally pulling on their shirt to reveal some midriff. Given their arms were occupied, their trunk reached down to slowly unzip the pink carrying bag, revealing glittery flags and cloths attached to smooth, black poles.

“Hey Keirie!”

The African Elephant raised their brows at the noise, and shifted their huge ears so they could see its owner. Before them was Brody, a small anthro goldfinch with his own Winterguard bag slung over one shoulder. His tail would flick and adjust as he hopped—quite the skittish little fellow!

“Brody—! Good to see you an hour early, I was starting to get lonely around here.”

“Aheh! Well, you know what they say, the early bird catches what he tosses…!”

“I’m sure you’re the only one who says that,” Kei let out a laugh as their trunk wrapped around a bundle of four or five flagpoles.

“Do you think you could help me with something that I’m struggling with?”

Kei lowered themself into a deep bow, trunk uncurling to let their flags spill out in front of them, before drawing into a deep lunge—stretches! “Sure thing!” They exclaimed kindly, eyes half lidded.

“I’m trying to learn how to best toss my saber in the air. Do you think you could hold me up?”

Kei, still stretching, mindlessly lowered their trunk to him at the question. Taking the invitation, Brody stepped on with their elegant throwing sword, watching curiously as his friend’s trunk fumbled around his fluffy body for a proper grip. Brody was small compared to them, after all—no more than the size of their palm, so he had to be held in the cusp that their trunk made, before being lifted above Keirie’s head.

Brody blinked a few times, balancing his narrow feet on their septum. He looked down towards the elephant’s nostrils, which began twitching and spasming to his shifting feet.

“Uhm-! How does it feel up here? I’ve never been held up by your trunk before…”

“Uhhhh-! You’re fine!” Kei insisted, switching their lunge to the other side, and picking up a random flag to begin rotation exercises on the joints. If they were being honest, he was incredibly itchy. Something about the sensation of his soft feathers so close to their fluttering nostrils made their cheeks redden. They could feel it in their tear ducts—the subtle sting of an allergy, crawling up their long trunk to pester them to no end!

Kei glanced past Brody when he threw the saber. It skewed to the left, and instinctively, their trunk snaked to the left to let Brody catch it. He caught it one-handed, and the imbalance made him jostle.

“Sndrk!!”

Oh geez. They could feel a few loosened feathers stuck to their inner nares; an unmistakable feeling, with their allergy. They snorted and chuffed with discomfort, feeling Brody staggering until he fell to a sit atop Kei’s nostrils.

“Y-you okay…?”

“H-hheh-! Udh..! I’m so sorry,” they hitched desperately, pressing a finger to the base of their trunk as if it would help, “I’m allergic t-tuh-! HHhuh..!”

“Oh your scent allergy..! Sorry, am I wearing too much cologne??”

“N’doe your fehH-feathers—!!” Kei exclaimed; though, now that he mentioned it, the scent of these feathers was getting to them too!!

“You’re allergic to feathers?!”

“HHehhH-! HHhehH!!”

Brody began to scramble, but he was sure he was nowhere near as fast enough to get to a stand. Gulping, he braced, and thanked the gods that he did!

“Iihhhehhshhhuh—! Hhih—! HiihhheHHSSHH’HUUW!!” Kei snapped forward at the hip, holding onto their knees. Their trunk blasted Brody away with a shower of feathers, who tumbled end over end on the mat. Blinking blearily, they grasped their trunk around both sides to suppress their hitches. “S-suh—! Sorry..! HHh-! Iihhehsshuh! Iiihehhshhuw!! Excuse me….sndrk!”

“Bless you…” Brody mumbled dizzily, scratching the back of his neck. “Ahah..! Guess you could say the whole ordeal was something to sneeze at..!”

“I’m glad you’re in good humor about this, Brody.”

[marjiandco]

Urianger’s acting strange

I just wanted to write down my thoughts on chasing Urianger on the moon as a drabble.

“You don’t have to come with me you know.”

Raiku swishes Marji’s face, finding satisfaction when it looks like the top of a dumpling.

“You say that, but everytime you go off on your own, you get some new ailment we’re all going to have to deal with after. I’m coming.”

“I’s js, Uri..er” she says through the folds of her mouth.

“Uh huh, let’s go.”

Marji rubs her cheeks, Y’shtola tittering behind the pair as they both head up and out of the Loporrits home. As the great doors open, the spot Urianger on one of the bridges leading out of the cavern. As he turns, Marji tackles Raiku behind one of the moon rocks.

“What are-”

“Shhh! I don’t want him to hear us. Let’s see where he’s going without course changes.” She whispers.

She attempts to flatten Raiku’s ears down and he slaps her hand away, holding them down himself. Both ears turn at the sound of a snort and exhale of breath. They wait, and wait, until Urianger’s footsteps begin to recede.

“I thought he’s heard us.”

“Maybe its the dust in the air? Can you be allergic to space?”

Raiku shrugs, and the pair zigzag behind their elezen friend, diving behind every rock and crevice they can find as he continuously looks behind him.

“It’s like he’s doing this on purpose.” Raiku wheezes.

Urianger breaks into a sprint, and the pair dash after him. As he rounds the top of the hill and out of sight, Marji gets on all fours and scrabbles forward, staying at low to the ground as possible to get a look without being spotted. She stretches her neck and looks out. Moon...moon….sabotender...feet.

“Thy arrival is timely as ever.” Urianger says.

Marji jerks back and sighs, standing back up and wiping the dust off her trousers. She waves Raiku over, and Urianger chuckles at the both of them.

“Forgive me, I thought mine joke wouldst be an easy way to begin thine conversation. I presume this is from an overheard conversation with Livingway?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There was a sadness brimming over, one the pair rarely see overcome their Elezen friend. Guilt weighs heavy on his shoulders, and with the way the two follow him, he can only assume they have little trust over him. He can see why; even the Loporrits, at first glance, can see his penchant for subterfuge. For Duplicity. Every life his decisions cost, and could have cost, makes every step heavier than the last. He carries the memories of Minfillia, of Moenbryda, of the future G’raha Tia foretold. He knows the coming choices would again lead to hard decisions, and he’s already beaten down by them.

“How do we make peace with the dreadful algebra of necessity?”

“If moments could last lifetimes, maybe we would find the perfect solution. Alas, there is little we can do in the moments we are given except what we believe to be the right choice.” Marji says.

Urianger is taken aback, realizing he’s been saying his thoughts aloud. He sees her, and sees himself. It was a comforting vision.

“I am not alone in my discomfort, then?” he says hesitantly.

“I don’t think you can be. Not with us at least. We won’t let you.”

Raiku steps forward and wraps his arms around Urianger, and soon to follow was Marji. Urianger’s arms waver at his side, as he thinks on memories of Moenbryda coming in to swing him around when he is in his dour moods. He feels their warmth, their love. He rests his head on top of Raiku’s, wrapping his arms around the both of them. He can scarce remember the last time he spoke to them, not in the least so candidly.

“I meant it, back on the first. I understand your reasoning, but please, let us in on whatever you are thinking. We care about you. I care about you. I promise you won’t see us disappear.” Marji cranes her neck to look Urianger in the eye.

The trio break apart, Urianger with a smile that reaches his eyes. “I confess, this is not how I thought our conversation would break.”

[bistevethor]

Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

[yuulina-vre]

Spirit

Summary: Wanda has never ridden a horse.

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Reader

Wordcount: 2582 words

Warnings: none

Masterlist

The soft glide of fingers over her shoulder rouses her. The fingers glide further over her neck before taking the same path back only to start again. Lightly chapped lips press against her shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart. Time to wake up.” Y/N only hums still on the verge of sleep, ready to let herself be dragged under again. “No, come on, baby.” The deep chuckle vibrates through her body. The hands that had gently run over her, now grip her a little harder and soon she feels herself manhandled onto a broad chest. Instinctively she snuggles into the warm body, head resting on its natural place on the chest, right under the chin. “Hey, no. No more napping. The others are waiting for us.”

“But comfy.” She whines, presses her head and body further onto the warm skin under her. “Nope. Come on. I have two options for you. Either you get up so I can pee and we get to eat lunch or you stay put, I pee on the bed and tickle you as long as it takes for you to pee yourself, too.”

“Bucky…”

“Your choice.” She grumbles a little, nuzzling her nose against the skin under her. “…First one.”

“Alright.” Bucky presses his lips against her forehead before he carefully shoves her off. “See you in a few minutes.” Then he’s gone. Y/N stays still on the mattress, only rolling a little to stare at the ceiling. She’s still a little tired. She came home late, together with Steve after they had to attend a small mission. She actually had to sneak into a building this time. The vents were full of dust and she swears she’s breathed in more of it than air. Missions always kick her ass, though. She’s going so rarely and when she does, she feels sore and tired afterward. How Steve managed to get up around 7 am is beyond her. The moment she hears the toilet flush she closes her eyes. “Baby girl, come on. I’m hungry.”

“Noo…” She whines again but startles the moments Bucky grabs her around the hips to throw her over his shoulders. “Fine, then I’ll carry you up like this.”

“No! Buck, I’m not wearing pants! Buck!” Well fuck. Bucky’s not listening just smirking and slapping her ass before he really starts walking out of their apartment. Getting carried into the common room only clad in panties and a long shirt from Steve is embarrassing. Her hair isn’t made either. Thankfully she only earns herself a strange look, a few smirks here and there. Steve seems to be the only one not looking amused. He has his eyebrows raised; arms crossed. Y/N only hangs like a defeated bag over Bucky’s shoulder hiding her face in her hands. Bucky gently sets her on Steve’s lap and she instantly goes to hide in his chest. “Hey.” He kisses her temple, gathers her in his arms, and presses her closer. While the others quickly go back to what they did Steve holds onto her, whispering softly. “What was that about?”

“Bucky is mean.” She starts pouting. “Didn’t want me to sleep any longer.” Steve snorts a little but his hand runs softly over her back. “You can nap with me later, yeah?” She continues pouting but nods. “How are you feeling? Still sore?”

“I’m fine but tired.”

“I don’t understand why you’re tired after missions. You change all the time. Is it the concentration that a mission brings?” Y/N only shrugs and snuggles closer into Steve, her own arms wrapping around his neck. “I don’t know.” They stay like that for a while. Y/N feels herself almost dosing off as Clint’s loud laugh startles her. “Never?!”

“No. It’s not like we had much money to do so.” Wanda shrugs, looking around. “Have you all done it?” A collective of yeses goes through the group. “Done what?” Y/N yawns and rubs her eyes. “Wanda has never ridden a horse.”

“What? Never?” Y/N looks at Wanda, a little shocked. “No, it’s not that big of a deal. I’m sure Steve and Bucky haven’t either.”

“Actually…” Bucky smiles at Wanda with a slight shrug. “My sister likes horses so I took her once to the zoo and she made me ride one too.” Wanda sighs as Clint pipes up again. “Even Tony has ridden a horse.”

“Oh, come on. He was five years old, that doesn’t count.” Tony only sips on his cup of coffee not even eyeing any of them as he listens to Bruce. Y/N turns to Steve. “Have you ever ridden one?”

“No, used to be allergic. Couldn’t get closer than a few hundred feet.”

“Unbelievable.” She shakes her head and jumps practically off Steve’s lap, her almost naked self forgotten. “Clint! You’re accompanying me! The rest is meeting us in two hours down by the lake!” She points at everyone, even at Bruce and Tony who looks confused, then grabs Clint by his collar and drags him behind her with minimal protests from him. She sees Steve and Bucky laugh, Wanda frown, and Nat smirk at Clint as they leave.

While they drive in town Y/N remembers why she never asks Clint to drive her. He’s like a starving man on his way to the next supermarket. They almost need the full two hours to buy what’s needed and not because Y/N is picky. Jesus, clint has some strong requirements on the stuff. But Y/N supposes he knows what he’s doing since he’s the one that owned horses. Back home She slips into the first room that’s empty and close to the entrance. Clint suggested some breeds to her that would fit with the brought equipment but Y/N is a week woman and concentrates on the one she finds beautiful. It takes a bit more time to change but soon she turned into a beautiful, light brown Norwegian fjord horse. She shakes herself a bit, lets her tail swig, and neighs silently for Clint to come in. He gets her fully ‘dressed’ with the blanket, saddle, halter, and rein before he leads her outside. Some employees look funnily at them, some smile but they both don’t pay them any mind. They stroll on but Clint suddenly stops. Y/N almost runs into him and snorts loudly. “Sorry, sorry. Can I get on?” Y/N nods eagerly. It’s been a long time since she carried someone around. As soon as Clint is on top she starts running around, slowly at first but then after. She feels the wind rush past her, her body pushing itself to the pastes pace possible. “Come on now, Y/N. The others are probably waiting.” She slows down, neighs again, and lets Clint lead her around until they can see the others. Some of them look slightly startled, Wanda even looks a bit scared. Steve and Bucky just look amazed and Tony is oddly hyped. Y/N stops right in front of them, shaking herself a little as Clint gets off. “Hi, Y/N.” Nat steps forward her hand stretched out, waiting for Y/N to butt her head against it. She sniffs at it first but then actually presses her noses against it and lets Nat stroke up and down. Bucky steps up as well, softly gliding his hand over her neck, cooing a little. Steve doesn’t step up to her but to Wanda. She looks pretty hesitant. Steve’s quick to grab one of her hands to squeeze it and whispers to her, probably to calm her down. “So, anyone wants a try?” Clint claps in his hand looking around. Surprisingly or not that surprising, since he looked hyped, Tony steps up and swings himself up into the saddle. He guides her around slowly trying to get a feeling but soon he’s dashing with Y/N over the grass and sand. One after another climb up in the saddle to run a few rounds around with her. Some are faster than others. Bucky denies it but feeds her apples in between her runs. Then it’s Wanda’s turn but she backs off as Y/N comes close, hiding behind Steve. “What’s wrong?” “S-she’s so big.” “Yeah, but it’s only Y/N. There’s no point in being afraid. You know her.” Steve tries to reassure her but Wanda backs off more. Y/N keeps an eye on her seeing her stare. She doesn’t seem quite afraid but neither does she seem comfortable. To not scare her off Y/N shuffles a little backward and walks up to Bucky. He immediately starts scratching her neck, cooing in her ears, and feeds her yet another apple Clint passes him. She stays a moment but soon runs off. Being a horse brings a feeling of freedom that she rarely feels. Somehow, it’s a whole different world and another freedom. It’s not comparable with the one she feels like a bird. It’s just… different. She runs around for a while, jumps here and there before she tires herself out. She tastes a bit from the grass around the compound but the apples were tastier so she trots back, hoping to get another one. She’s not coming far because Clint catches her halter. She snorts and neighs a little annoyed but follows him as he leads her a bit away from the others. She’s just starting to wonder where they are going as they reach a tree. “I’m just parking you here for a sec. Wait for me yeah?” She nods and watches as he tightens her reins on a thick branch. As if she would run away! But he still goes through with it and walks off only to return with Wanda in one hand and a basket in the other. “Clint, no. Please.” “Come on. Just pat her and give her an apple. She’s not as scary as you might think.” “No Plea-” Y/N cut ser off mid-sentence. She’s now close enough so Y/N steps forward and butts her head against her shoulder, gently and without nuzzling or nibbling. She just presses it there and holds it. Wanda tenses instantly, almost backing off but Clint now has a hand on her lower back and holds her still. Wanda’s still tense but with Clint takes one of her hands and slowly raises it and places it on Y/N’s neck. At first, her hand just rests there but then she lightly, barely noticeable, starts scratching and stroking and Y/N has to keep herself in check. She wants to snort in pleasure neigh but she can’t. she doesn’t want to scare Wanda off so she waits. It takes a few minutes until Y/N deems Wanda calm enough so she lifts her head and snorts, nudging Wanda carefully, and triples on the spot, eager for some apples she knows clint hides in the basket. Wanda takes one out and hesitantly reaches forward. “Flatten your hand so she won't accidentally take your fingers off.” Wanda’s hand flattens and Y/N tries to take the apple as gently as she can. It takes a while longer to really convince Wanda to get in the saddle but half an hour later Y/N is strolling around the compound at a leisurely pace with Wanda sitting on her back. That is until she gets an idea for some bonding time. “Where are you going? Y/N?” Wanda panics a little on her back turning back to look at the others. No one really notices what they are doing, except Clint who’s still eyeing them. “C-Clint?! Where’s she going?”“I don’t know. Just let her lead. It’s Y/N, she probably wants to bond with you.” Y/N neighs to confirm it and continues on along the shore deeper into the forest. She walks for a while until they reach a smaller path that she follows and that leads her back to the lake. She stops on the sandy ground and snorts. The view is a bit different; this place is more shadowy. You can see the compound and if you look closely, you can see all the others on the pier. “This is beautiful.” Y/N nods eagerly. She likes this spot. When she sometimes changes into a deer, she hides out here, just looking around. Sometimes she can watch recruits and Nat and Steve train long-distance runs or survival in icy water. It is interesting and she’s always glad she doesn’t have to do it. Wanda leans a bit forward, resting against Y/N’s neck. Her hands start stroking each side of Y/N’s neck while she whispers into one of her ears. “Can we do this again some time? I- I think I like it.” Y/N nods again, happy that she could convince her that riding a horse isn’t that scary. They slowly make their way back and Y/N test the waters by falling into a slightly faster pace. Wanda screeches at first but relaxes soon. Back with the others she dismounts her and pats her neck again before happily skipping over to Clint.

Y/N looks around trying to spot her boys. They both stand on the edge of the pier. Well, Bucky is sitting, his feet dangling in the water, Steve’s standing beside him nursing a drink. Y/N’s not wearing any horseshoes so she is relatively silent and could try sneaking up on them. Taking the chance while it’s still presenting itself, she walks as silently as she can. It helps that the others aren’t far off, laughing and chatting pretty loudly. She’s only a few feet away from her boys, able to hear their soft conversation. “She might as well be, I mean. Look how Clint acts.”

“Yeah, well. After Pietro, he has taken her under his wings. He keeps a close eye on h- Ahh!” That’s the moment Y/N uses. She takes a small jump and buts her head against Steve’s back, forcefully enough to push him off balance. Steve staggers a little before he loses his footing and slips over the edge of the pier right into the water. Bucky barks out a laugh while Y/N neighs loudly. Steve swims back up, sputtering and spitting water out. “You!” He points an accusing finger at her but Y/N only snorts amused, though, she’s stepping up to the edge of the pier she lowers her head so her reins hang low enough for Steve to grab on, which he does. She neighs loudly and lifts her head with as much force as she can and steps back, dragging Steve up on the platform again. Bucky quickly grabs Steve on the loops of his jeans and pulls him up as well. For a moment Steve just lies pouting on the ground before he slowly gets up and tackles Bucky, getting him all wet as well. Bucky screeches at the wetness and tries to fights Steve off but he nuzzles his wet hair just into Bucky’s face. “That’s for laughing!” Then he lets go and glares at Y/N. He approaches her slowly at first. Y/N stakes a step back but then Steve suddenly starts running. Normally Y/N would be faster than he is but she starts a second too late to turn around, so Steve manages to catch her on her neck and fling himself around her until he sits in the saddle, getting her whole neck all wet. She continues running just for the fun and because Steve just realized what he’s doing. “Y-Y/N! Slower! Oh my god, I hate you!” His hands tighten in her mane as she continues running through the grass. No! No slowing down. She enjoys it way too much.

[awkwards]

Kinktober Day 5. Aphrodisiac : Pleasurable Test | Overhaul

Day 5: Aphrodisiac

Title: Pleasurable Test

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Count: 2.2k

Summary: You needed to make ends meet, and so you go to subject yourself to a testing center that will pay. Turns out, you’ve signed yourself up for way more than you expected. You should really read the fine print.

Warnings: Noncon, syringe, aphrodisiac, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yandere, sadist overhaul

Note: It’s finals week and definitely starting to hit me. Also, thanks for all of the support! If you’d like to be tagged for my kinktober fics, dm me! My inbox is open~

You snarled behind your gag at the man in the lab coat, who was currently coming at you with another needle. When he stepped close, you managed to kick the shot away.

“You can’t even handle one little girl. Pathetic.” A voice you haven’t heard before chides. A man wearing a plague mask and rather large coat with purple feathers stepped in. You could barely see him from where you’re restrained on the operating table. He snaps gloves onto his his, his eyes glaring at the subordinate. “And now that needle is filthy.”

“I’m so sorry sir!” you could see the sweat from the doctor, his face pailing. “She kicked me and it went flying!”

“Begone. I do not wish to hear your excuses.”

“Yes sir.” The guy practically runs from the room.

The man levels his gaze on you, judging.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, challengingly.

You’ve been here for a week. It was supposed to be one test, in which you got paid for. You took it because money was tight and you needed to pay rent. Little did you realize they would keep you kidnapped and subject to their devices because you were the “perfect candidate”.  Your fear has practically been pushed aside by your anger. For a week they’ve been sticking you with needles, running “tests”, keeping you on the edge of functioning. All you had left was your anger and attitude.

“What a nuisance.” The man sighs. His dark eyes scan your barely clothed body.

Quicker than you can move, the man has your legs pinned down, fastened in place just like your arms and neck are. A gasp of shock careens past your lips, silenced by the gag.

“That’s better.” He moves over to the counter where the equipment lays. He turns his back towards you. “Do you know who I am?”

“Well, I assume you’re the one in charge of these monkeys. Do you know who I am?” You bite at him.

“I am Kai Chisaki. You will address me as Overhaul.” He turns slowly, an intense look in his eyes that makes your skin crawl. “I know plenty about you. You are a quirkless individual. Your blood type is AB negative. You’re allergic to penicillin. You’ve lived in this city your whole life. I know you were adopted at the age 5. You had a kidney transplant at the age 12.”

“Your parents were brutally murdered when you were in high school by a villain attack. I know that the villain attack was actually a target for your father’s brother because he made some bad deals with the yakuza.” He grabs a needle and begins to mix a mystery pink liquid into it. You’re shaking by now. How does he know so much?  “You dropped out of high school quickly after, and less than two years later sold most of your adoptive parent’s belongings, and then the house.”

Overhaul takes deliberate and slow steps towards you, tapping the air bubbles out of the needle. “You moved into a seedy little apartment in the middle of town. You work at a small bar across from the noodle shop in the bad part of town because it was the only place that would hire you. This month you couldn’t make ends meet so you showed up here.”

A gloved hand drops onto your arm, thumb soothing over the prominent vein of yours. “And most importantly, I know your name isn’t actually Nakaya Kosuke. You, Miss (y/n), have quite the extensive history.”

You jerk hard at hearing your birth name. No one should know! Only your adoptive parents, who as he stated were dead, and the lawyer that erased your identity knew.

You try to speak through the gag, your words hushed.

An amused dark chuckle falls from him. “Oh, my apologies, did you want to speak?”

You nod your head.

His eyebrows raise, as if debating it. Finally, he unties the back of your gag. You spit it out, breathing in deeply. “Careful now, say something I don’t like and I’ll put it back on. Or I’ll remove your tongue.”

“Why am I here?”

He hums. “You are special. Did you know that your blood type is extremely rare?”

You clench your teeth, glaring at this cocky son-of-a-bitch. “I did.”

“Well, fortunately for us, your blood type was exactly what we’ve been looking for in our experiment. It’s extremely hard to come by a willing participant, too.”

“I’m not willing. I signed up for a test. One.”

His chuckle is light, and his eyes are wide with sadistic mirth. “No. You actually signed up until there was one successful test. So far, none of them have been such. It would appear someone didn’t read the fine print.”

Oh. Oh god. Did you really?

“No worries. You will be fully compensated. Well-” His eyes narrow. “If you live.”

Overhaul begins to prep the vein in your arm. “See, quirks are filthy. Those heroes parading around their quirks are but vermin on this earth. Pathetic. But you - no, you’re corrupted like those who roam the streets. Your blood is pure. Your genes are clean. You and I are far more similar than you might think, y/n.“

“What are you going to do to me?” Fear is fully controlling your mouth now. You shiver as he sanitizes the area he plans on injecting you.

“I have reason to believe that your blood will be the perfect capsule to carry my new invention. It’s a device that will remove the quirks of those who come in contact with it.” The look in his eyes turned wild, excited. You shiver. “My parents were ripped away from me, too. Those heroes did nothing to save them. Yet, they parade around the world as if we, the common folk, owe them. Not for long. Now, don’t make too much of a noise; I’d rather not have to remove your tongue.”

The prepped needle’s cap comes off, and the metal slides into your skin. You whimper, looking away as Overhaul begins to press its contents into your bloodstream. As quick as it began, it ended. He wipes away the lone blood drop before pressing a bandaid against you.

“Normally I would never dream of coming so close to an individual. But you are different from the filth filling this world.” Gloved hands grab your chin, turning you to look into his eyes. “You’re pure. Perfect. And I plan on taking full advantage of that, my sweet Y/N.”

Tears burn your eyes, your lip trembling. You finally let your body relax. This time you were truly fucked. He pulls his hand away, throwing away the needle tip of the syringe. You watch him walk away, back to the counter where he removes his gloves and washes his hands and arms.

A warmth began to fill your system. You shoot a concerned look at Overhaul. It was like your body was warming up from the inside out, your blood beginning to boil. A feverish sweat was spreading over every inch of you. “Something’s wrong.” You croak out.

Overhaul turns back to glance at you, sweaty and blushed. A mild look of intrigue covers his face. “Oh?”

“It’s burning me.” You whine.

Your body is completely uncomfortable now. The warmth feels … different. Wrong even.

“Explain to me what is happening.” He dries his hands leisurely, watching you from across the room before putting on a new, clean pair of rubber gloves.

“I’m hot. It feels like my blood is boiling. I -” you whimper as the slightest movement of your head increases the feeling tenfold. “Please make it stop.”

Overhaul takes his time as he walks back over to you. He runs a finger over your pulsepoint. The single touch sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, a moan following. “How interesting.”

You’re mortified and confused. You wish you could rub your thighs together at the uncomfortable feeling between them.

“I see now. The molecular constructs of those two vials creates an aphrodisiac.”

You pinch your eyes shut as his single digit drags down your arm, over the hospital gown you have. The thin fabric is too much. It feels as if it’s weighing you down and making it that much harder to breathe.

“I suppose I should relieve you. It’ll be the only way to collect your blood at the right molecular compounds,” He muses to himself, talking out loud as if you’re not there.

Overhaul pulls off the glove on his left hand. “If I hadn’t reassembled you already, I would let you suffer until the side effects wear off. But, because of me, you really are clean. You should thank me.”

Not knowing what to say, you watch the man through your watery tears. He presses his bare hand on your stomach. If you weren’t being restrained, you would have arched into his hand, moaning loud as pleasure floods your core.

When he removes his hand, your whole body shivers as air nips your bare skin. How? “Wh-what?”

He chuckles. “My quirk.”

You watch as Overhaul steps around your pinned body, coming close to your wet sex.

“What a mess you’ve made. Disgusting.” Despite his words, he runs his gloved hand up your right leg, stopping at the stop below your belly button. You can feel your walls flutter.

A choked out “Please,” tumbles from your lips. You’re so turned on it hurts. Your brain can’t think straight anymore.

You moan loudly as a single finger strokes your dripping lips. You roll your hips as best as you can to get more friction. He lets out a proper laugh at your discomfort, sliding his single digit past your folds.

“So needy. What would you do without me? If I wasn’t here to relieve you?”

Your walls flutter around his digit as he runs his finger against your inside. The burning in your blood only seems to increase at the slight relief. “Please, Overhaul please!”

At your pitiful begging, he slides another finger in, stretching your walls. He works the two digits in a slow and methodical pace, scissoring you. You whine and cry, grinding your hips into his fingers. When he curls the two fingers and strokes the spongy spot inside you, a coil snaps, and you cum hard around him.

He doesn’t stop, continuing to pump his fingers inside you. You moan as you come down from your high.

The heat inside dims for the barest of moments before firing back up with a vengeance.

“Did that make you feel better?” He mocks, putting more force behind his motions.

You gasp as the coil of pleasure begins again. “It hurts! I need more, please!”

“Patience, little one. You’ll get your release. Soon, you’ll be begging me to stop.”

As if to prove his point, he uses his thumb to stroke your clit hard. Your walls flutter and drip around his gloved fingers as you feel yourself close to the crest again. “Oh - Oh, oh please!” You wail.

“Cum again, pet.”

You do. Your walls spasm as you tip over, shaking in your restraints as a sigh leaves you.

He doesn’t stop. The fire inside is rapidly dwindling, and you flinch at the touch.

“Oh, are you sensitive already?” He muses. “It won’t last long.”

True to your words, the fire picks up again. You sob as his touch hurts. It hurts yet is relieving you too. Tears stream down your face as you’re overstimulated, but the heat is still there.

“It's almost over. Hold on just a bit longer.”

Overhaul fingers you faster, making the coil of pleasure twist quicker and harder than the last two orgasms. You sob as you near the edge again.

“Last one. Give me one more. Cum over my fingers.”

“I can’t!” You cry out, rocking your hips into his fingers despite what you say.

“You can. And you will.” You can hear the squelching as his fingers target your g-spot, his thumb rolling your clit hard. “Cum again y/n.”

A scream rips from your throat as you’re forced over the edge of another orgasm. Your entire body tenses, and white fills your eyes. Overhaul drags his fingers out of you slowly, making you wince from the overstimulation. He tears the glove covered in cum off of his hand before sliding a new set on.

Panting hard, you come down again, body relaxing. Your blood no longer feels like you’re being boiled alive.

You flinch as a syringe is forced into your arm, and watch in sick curiosity as he draws blood from you. Even the touch of the needle makes you quiver, your entire body too sensitive for touch.

“Shh, it’ll be okay. You did so well.”

You moan, shaking as he places a bandage over your skin again. Your head swims as black dots at the edge of your vision.

You look up at him, and can tell even from behind his mask that he’s smiling. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Rest well, pet.”

Tag list:

@ofthedewthesunlight​ 

[pale-persephone]

Reign Revisited: The Pilot

Waaaaay back in 2013, when The White Queen had just finished its initial 10 episode run on Starz, some fan blogs I had followed began buzzing about a new show that had just premiered. This time, the queen in question was Mary Stuart, and like The White Queen, this new show was soapy and sexy and full of great costumes.

The White Queen is historical fiction, emphasis on the fiction. Compared to Reign, however, it is a doctoral thesis on primary-document research.

Reign isn't historical fiction. It's historical fanfiction. It's a fanfiction salad with side of lite history and a sprinkling of fact croutons. If you were tuning into Reign hoping to actually learn something

So, let's start with the fact croutons. What did Reign get right(ish), historically speaking, in the first episode?

Mary Stuart was sent to France as a child with the intention that she would someday marry the dauphin, Francis.

Francis Valois was the oldest son of Henry II and Catherine de Medici (aka BAWS ASS BITCH). His sister Elisabeth married the king of Spain, and he had a brother named Charles.

Diane de Poitiers was Henry II's longest-serving and most-loved mistress.

Mary had four ladies-in-waiting of roughly the same age with whom she developed deep and long-lasting bonds.

Nostradamus was a thing.

What was bullshit?

Bash

Literally everything else.

Now that we have that established, let's dive right in.

The Revisit

I'm calling it a revisit, because unlike some of you perhaps, I've been here before. For the most part, I know how the story goes, and I plan to write about the beginning from the vantage point of the ending. In other words, if you don't want spoilers, this ain't the place for you.

So, here we are. The very first second of the very first scene of the very first episode. And what do we see?

Girl, I was not prepared for that. You gotta remember: 3x05 was the last episode I truly watched. The night that it aired, I cried so much that I had to sleep with a cold gel mask over my face so that the next morning people wouldn't see my severely swollen eyes and worry I was suffering from an allergic reaction.

Obviously, I remember the prophecy about Francis's death playing a major role in the first half of season 1. I just wasn't expecting The Tree of Suffering and Death to be in my face right out the gate.

Now that that's aside, let us move on. As historically inaccurate as it is, I'm not mad at the writers' decision to start out the series with Mary squirreled away in a convent, awaiting her return to court. What I am mad at, however, is this wig.

I know they blew all their budget filming on location, but yeesh. This doesn't look much better than the one I picked up at Party City the year I dressed up as Snow White.

Speaking of locations, it is amazing how much wider the world seems in this pilot episode when compared to my memories of later ones, which had begun to feel very insular by the time I stopped watching. Within the first few minutes, we've been in a forest with Nostradamus, outside a picturesque convent with Mary and a passel of nuns, and now we’re on to the glorious French court, where the interiors are lush and the rooms bustling with people.

Next up, we meet the hot half-brother duo of Francis and Bash.

When it comes to this show, from the beginning until now, there is one hill that I am prepared to die on: Toby Regbo as Francis.

Maybe Reign Francis isn't as young, short, or sickly as Real Francis. I will argue that the Powers That Be knew what they were doing, however, because from the moment he rushed up those stairs and onto the screen, I could totally buy the idea that this was a boy whose life would prove to be a flickering candle. No, Reign Francis isn't short. But he is a little too thin, a little too pretty, a little too golden. He looks exactly like the type of person who'd be carried off by a fever in a pre-antibiotics world.

As for Bash...

I was never a Mash/Mabastian shipper. I thought the love triangle was a dumpster fire. And, in the past, that bias made it impossible for me to view Bash with any objectivity whatsoever. Now that Reign is over and I know for a fact that the Mary/Francis/Bash tug-o-war fizzles to less than nothing, I feel a little more sympathy for his character and a shit ton more for Torrance Coombs, the actor who plays him.

When I last saw Bash in season 3, he was a character inhabiting a world nearly completely separate from all the others. The show had fallen into a pattern where Bash spent the bulk of his time investigating one pseudo-supernatural bullshit calamity after another, with occasional brief stops at the palace to deliver updates. It was rather jarring to rewatch the pilot and see him actually participating in palace life. I'm reminded that, In the beginning, Bash truly was a main character, and it must have been difficult for Torrance to see himself increasingly sidelined.

I mentioned this earlier, but as we watch the Valois family preparing for young Elisabeth's wedding, I am struck by how many people there are. In the initial images of Francis and Bash I posted above, you can see castle business being conducted within the rooms on either side of them. We are then introduced to Henry, Catherine, and Elisabeth, who are positively surrounded by servants and attendants.

I mention this only because, by the time season 3 rolls around, it begins to feel like there are a grand total of five people living the a palace, which itself consists of a mere three rooms and one hallway. I know, I KNOW: budget constraints. It's still amazing to me how much bigger, fuller, and more textured this pilot seems compared to the later episodes.

Next, we meet the most ridiculously named ladies-in-waiting to ever grace the screen: Kenna, Lola, Greer, and Aylee. I get that going with the historically accurate "Four Marys" would have been confusing for the audience, and that traditional names such as Anne, Margaret, Joan (Jean/Jane), and Agnes aren't very, well, exciting. But Lola? For a lady-in-waiting to a Scottish queen? For fuck's sake.

And while I'm speaking of Lola, I must say I'm a bit confused by her backstory and motivations in the pilot. The script makes it clear that the ladies are arriving from Scotland just as Mary is returning from the convent. Kenna teases Lola about the "boy from Aberdeen" whom Lola insists "will wait for" her. Greer echoes my sentiments exactly here: wait for what? Lola is in France in the service of a queen who will be married and will live in France. If she wanted to spend her life with the boy from Aberdeen, why didn't she just marry him rather than depart for France with the knowledge that she would likely never see him again?

All of these questions become moot points once Colin himself arrives. Again I ask, If they want to be together so badly, why didn't they marry before Lola left Scotland? And why is Lola, a daughter of a Scottish noble in the employ of the queen of Scotland, asking Catherine de Medici, not Mary, for permission for Colin to stay? Mary was allowed to maintain a retinue in France. Shouldn't Colin, her subject, petition her for a position and permission to court Lola? Especially when Lola freely admits that Mary has never met Colin before? I get that Catherine's meeting with Colin is essential to the episode's plot. I just find the set-up to be clunky and awkward.

Before that can happen, though, we are witness to the planetary collision of Mary's first meeting with Francis. (0:00 - 0:50 in the video below)

Francis stops. Mary stops. The music stops. The visual and auditory clues make it clear: This is a defining moment in their young lives.

This Francis, however, is not the Francis I grew to love over the course of the 48 episodes to follow. The Francis of the pilot episode is more guarded, less prone to express emotion, and more fearful of his own heart. There is even a scene here in which he treats Mary quite callously, and while I feel like Toby did a good job in relaying Francis's worries and mixed emotions, I can understand why some viewers weren't immediately sold on the Great Love Story of Mary and Francis.

I mean, they were wrong, but still. I understand.

I really enjoyed the early scenes of Mary and her ladies all together during this episode. At one point, they all receive a lecture on court etiquette by a stern looking Madame type, which sends them all into fits of giggles, and I find myself thinking that the show would have been better served if it had kept a character like that around. In fact, watching this scene with future episodes in mind, I must ask the question: Where are they adults?

No, seriously. Where are they?

As the show moves forward, there are no authority figures whatsoever at French court other than Catherine and Henry. Mary rules Scotland from hundreds of miles away with the help of absolutely no one. Aside from an uncle who appears briefly at the beginnings of episodes 3 and 4, there is not one grown person in Mary's orbit to offer her guidance or advice. She is a teenaged queen who, on the show, has spent the past six years buried in a convent, and yet she is completely left to her own devices. Where is the rest of the de Guise clan? In reality, Mary Stuart had a slew of relatives who would have been in and out of French court. Her uncles were dukes, marquises (is that the right plural?), archbishops, and cardinals. Where are they? And beyond that, where are her Scottish advisors? Mary and her four ladies-in-waiting most certainly would not have been the only Scots at court. Future episodes will showcase constant tension between Mary and Francis, pitting her choices against his, when—in actuality—there would have entire councils of people involved in every single aspect of the decision making.

I get that too many characters can become hard to juggle, and I know first-hand that Reign will have a difficult enough time maintaining storylines for the characters it does showcase. I still think that Reign missed an opportunity in giving a face (or faces, rather) to the authority at court, both French and Scottish.

So we've met our protagonists and established our setting. But who is our bad guy? Every story needs an antagonist, and this Reign pilot offers us two, of sorts. Though neither really work in the long run.

The first is Catherine de Medici. Her actions in this pilot episode are reprehensible, and yet by the end I was in tears (again) seeing her watch helplessly on from a window while the son she loves more than the waking world falls for the girl who will cause his death. Having witnessed what Mary’s behavior will become in the second season, and knowing that she will ultimately be the cause of Francis’s death, it’s kind of difficult not to believe that Catherine was right in wanting to be rid of her. Her methods are vile, manipulative, and conniving, but her driving motivation is love for her child. You can’t root for her, but you can’t exactly root against her, either.

The second is the forest, also known as the Blood Wood. Or rather, what the Blood Wood supposedly contains. This episode lays some eerie groundwork here, but, guys…I just can’t take it seriously. It's promising chills that never materialize. The nefarious “pagans,” the ridiculous Darkness reveal at the end of the season…ugh. And the idea that the royal family resides in a palace surrounded by forests no one dares go into…How does that work? There are hundreds of people at court each day. Dozens travelling to and from. The gamekeepers would be constantly in and out, checking on the pheasants, deer, and other creatures who live and are hunted within. If people were continuously walking into a royal forest and never coming out, those woods would be cleared in a matter of days, and any “pagans” skulking inside rounded up and hanged.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself. We haven’t gotten to the pagans yet. All we get in this episode is a mysterious warning from Bash about never going into the woods, and the ominous conversation between Bash and his mother at the end that reveals Mary’s freshly-returned dog, Stirling, (who we’ll finally see again in season 2) must’ve been lured inside the wood by the scent of fresh blood.

We also catch our first glimpses of Clarissa (though we don’t know she’s Clarissa yet), the castle “ghost” who slips in and out of palace rooms unnoticed and warns Mary against drinking the wine at Elisabeth’s wedding. She’s creepy looking, for sure, but doesn’t come across as a bad guy. At least, not yet. The pilot has her appear and disappear in ways that make you wonder, “Hmmm…is there something supernatural going on here?” But, just as with the pagan Blood Wood storyline, I know how disappointing the ultimate resolution here is going to be. In fact, by the end of the season, the Blood Wood Full o’ Killer Pagans just sort of ceases to be a huge deal to the series, and by the time we reach Mary and Francis’s wedding a little over halfway through, Clarissa is basically gone for (almost) good. It's a lot of build-up for storylines whose resolutions are a resounding meh.

All of this is my long-winded way of saying that the show needed a good villain, and though the pilot proves that Mary is in serious danger at court, all the threats set up here either disappear eventually or are proved ridiculously lame. I personally feel the show would have been better off investing in some long-term bad apples. A powerful rival family (like the Bourbons, only Mary doesn’t sleep with one of them), a treacherous advisor (but, unlike Narcisse, a truly evil one who doesn’t double as a sexy anti-hero), or perhaps even a devilish cardinal (hey, it worked for The Musketeers). We want Mary to triumph, but triumph over what, exactly? Other than the English, who really don't feature in the episode at all, it's all very vague.

And now for Mary herself.

Here we are introduced to a girl who is sweet-natured and romantic, though prone to self-doubt and bursts of temper. She loves her dog. She’s eager to please. She takes delight in simple things and wears her wide-open heart on her sleeve.

I barely recognize her.

By the end of season 2, Mary was my least-favorite character on the show, aside from Conde. Revisiting the pilot episode, I’m suddenly reminded of why I liked her so much in the beginning, and why I shipped her so hard with sweet golden baby Francis. As Mary, Adelaide is all starry eyes and dimples, with a quick smile that so easily melts into hurt and sadness. I don’t want to elbow this Mary in the kidney; I want to protect her from all the forces trying to destroy her sweet spirit. When a grief-stricken Lola angrily asserts that she and Mary are not friends, that Mary is instead her queen and a constant source of danger to the girls, I want to yell, “Then why are you here? You’re not a prisoner. Go home!”

(After showing her jealousy over Colin at the wedding and then basically victim-blaming Mary for her sexual assault, I wonder at the writers’ choice to have Lola be the one to sleep with Francis later in the season. Was there meant to be some long-simmering yet unspoken tension between Mary and Lola? Once again, I'm getting ahead of myself. I’ll come back to this later.)

By the time we get to the episode's Big Event (aka the wedding between Elisabeth Valois and Philip II of Spain, which is somehow occurring before the death of his wife Mary Tudor--but I digress), Mary has had interactions with both Bash and Francis, running the gamut from flirtatious to contentious. The first time I watched this ep, I hadn’t firmly staked my flag on either ship at this point.

And then came this moment.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Yes, she smiles at Bash first. But when she smiles at Francis, it immediately transitions to yearning. They step toward each other as if pulled by magnets. His defensive wall crumbles to ashes right in front of our eyes, and, reader, I was done. The almost-kiss at the end of the episode only cemented it. Frary. Frary all the way. Fray or I will burn this series to the ground.

All of this is especially poignant in hindsight. We know now that when Francis takes a step toward Mary, he’s also taking his first step toward Death.

The feathers fall.

And the clock starts ticking.

FINAL THOUGHTS

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed revisiting this episode. No show has made me feel as much or disappointed me as much as Reign, but this episode reminded me of why I started caring about it in the first place. For starters, it looks amazing. The interiors, the exteriors, the rich fabrics and colors…it’s all so well done. The modern(ish) costumes, which were a major point of contention for some people, didn’t bother me then and don’t bother me now. And though I love history (the Tudors being my particular wheelhouse), I understand what they were going for here. They’re sort of taking the Hamilton approach (no, it's not a perfect analogy) to historical events, in which there is an unspoken understanding that the audience knows that events are being condensed and rearranged and sometimes flat-out made up for the sake of the story. If you continually get hung up on so-so wasn’t even there, that happened years later, she never loved him like that, you’re going to miss out on all the fun. Not to mention some amazing music.

The pilot episode promises romance and intrigue with a splash of supernatural horror, and it delivers. It’s frothy, silly entertainment.

But Reign won’t always be.

On to episode 2...

[irrfahrer]

The second something moved behind the door the Reeksa AiAia lifted one of their small flower heads and started to snarl like a guarddog. Ziv had placed the small transperisteelcontainer she usually carried bound to her rucksack on her back as always by the door for the plant to keep watch, yet even without the Reeksas warning snarl, Ziv would have known that someone was before her door. She smelled them. She would have smelled them ten miles against the wind in the middle of a lively and a as busy as a beehive marketplace. She smelled the blood- a injury with blood that had started to thicken and which promptly made the Tynnan look up alerted like the carnivore she still was. Accordingly the Tynnan sat down the Holobook she had been reading in while sitting by the small oven  sat up in the middle of the round cabine and walked over to the door. The cabine was round, nothing but a hemisphere at the edge of a under snow drowned starharbour that was at this hour of the morning sleeping quietly under the snow like under a shroud. The wind was loud, howling and snarling along the streets running between the other hemisphere-cabines, but inside the cabine it was nothing but a distant wisp that was in the saeness insid the walls barely noticeable. On her way Ziv took another sniff from the air like a sleuth: She smelled blood that was two days old and coming from a wound that had stopped bleeding but had not been properly cleaned, she smelled the by sweat drenched clothes of the visitor that were so soaked with adrenaline that the stench stitched into the young womans nose like needles, and she smelled dust sticking to visitor from the  snow of the icedesert surrounding the starhangar in a white embrace. Nimbly Ziv climbed the chair she had put up beside AiAia , so she could reach the doorkpenal and make the door shift open- it was cold outside-, comfortably for someone like Ziv who had been born to swimm in the icy oceans of Tynna, but very cold for someone who neither had a thick pelt, nor a high metabolism nor a natural layer of bladder. With the door open cold air floaded inside the round cabine and in the matter of a few seconds iceflowers started to grew on the duracrete of the walls and the leafso the plants Ziv had raised from pots.  This close the young woman could now smell the blood frozen on the visitors clothes better and she leaned her shoulder on the doorframe casually, now with the  on eyelevel with the other while stillstanding on the chair:

“Aw, look what the kriffing Loth-cat dragged in. Which is surprising, because I do not have a kriffing Loth-cat and in fact I am pretty sure I will react allergic to Loth-cats fur, or a loth-cat will react allergic to my fur and I am not in the mood to have a shed-competition with a kriffing pet." The Reeksa stretched their long ranknecks up to look at the newcomer, now hissing like a cat to ward off the newcomer. Ziv purred at the plant calmingly, before she pointed over to the sleepingmattress she had put down in the forest of potted plants she had raised inside the small cabine: " But anyways, yeh I am kriffing seeing you, I am kriffing smelling you, its kriffing late, and no, you are not the first Kriffer asking or help here, so lets go after my routine and come in, so I can take care of you, because in contrast to you I can not freeze to death, well I could but it would need a lot of kriffing time and by that time I start to get kriffing cold paws you would be a kriffing solid block of ice so what-kriffing-ever, come in, I will clean the injury.”

[titoist]

i'm back from the supermarket run. i feel generally apathetic towards it.... i maybe feel even a tiny bit worse after it! but i suppose i need to savor the scant opportunities for fresh air. i get very little stale-air, as is. ancedote 1: i carry a backpack with me, & usually end up stuffing all the very heavy items in it to the brim, plus some other small snacks that can fit - not counting the various bags i have to carry in my arms... thus, by the end of it, i'm attempting not to collapse from the weight as i get home. i feel like a pack mule! anecdote 2: as i was passing by a pet shop, a little grey itty bitty kitty cat was laying down next to the door... seemingly conditioned that pet shop = the workers giving her food, unable to understand why suddenly there were no people there(it was 10 pm, way past when one would expect a pet shop to be open) my entire life, i've been told that i am near-deathly allergic to cats... the legitimacy for this claim apparently comes from when i was tested for allergies as a child, & the doctors timorously explained to my mother that it would probably be maybe good if i were to never be in the presence of a feline. this is a very, very, unbelievably cruel twist of fate... for obvious reasons. cats are good. it's that simple. & this ensured that i had to be resisting the urge to pet cats for the better part of my entire life. that's just no life at all! in spite of my rational awareness that i should probably not do it... i got close to it anyway. it rolled over on it's back as i approached & let me pet its tummy a little, before seemingly getting bored & getting up. no allergy attack... yet. it kind of did a little bit of an annoyed grumble as it got up, which made me laugh really hard. like it was frustrated by the lack of quality to be found in my petting. i'm really glad that i was where i was, when i was.