#May add more depending if whatever or not I have plans for em'

[ryctone]

Doing a clean up of super old Warrior Cats OCs that I dunno what to do with anymore/can't fit with my new fanclans, take them while you still can!

Some are OTA(Offer to Adopt) while others are free first come first serve.

[kurtwagnermorelikekurtwagnerd]

Weird question but a while ago on one of your posts you mentioned how you made your steaks better (i think it had something to do with a sigil?) Anyway could you give a step-by-step on that?

im so glad you asked me this thank you for the opportunity to infodump

first thing you're gonna want to do is rest your steaks for a few hours before you cook them. just salt both sides and pop em in the fridge uncovered. your mileage may vary on how long you want them in there based on how thick your steak is but i usually just do it the night before or the morning of and it works out. it's gonna look kinda funky and dry when you take it out, that's how you know it's ready. this is half of what is gonna give you a damn good crust.

when it comes time to cook em up, pat some spices into either side. you'll also want some spices in whatever oil or butter you use in the pan but having them directly crusted onto the steak is the other half of what gives you a damn good crust. you can turn on the heat during this step because you want your pan to be hot when you lay your steak into it. people get into different oils and smoke points but honestly if you're just trying to make a good steak for yourself i don't think it matters much, just use a little less than you think you need because beef fat renders fast. oil your pan, add herbs to the oil if you're feeling it (i like garlic and rosemary) and lay your steak down in there.

the next step kinda varies depending on how you like your steak. i like mine as rare as is safe so i just pan sear mine on every side until the interior is warm enough to be safe, but if you like yours any more well you'll probably want to pop it in the oven at low heat for a short period of time. this part im kinda shakey with but generally 5-8 minutes at around 250 will do it. this is where a meat thermometer comes in really handy bc it helps make sure you don't overcook your steak.

this last bit is optional but if you want to go for some fancy plating, let them sit on a different plate than you plan to serve on for a few minutes to let the myoglobin run off as it cools.

[crowned--corvid]

HEY HEY HI Ive been entranced with your animation of the death row animation meme!! how did you do that kind of animation in blender? is there a tutorial you found or something like that? I havent been able 2 find anything yet...

HIIII HIIII!!! MAN that's an oldie but goodie, I still dig it after 1.5 years

Here's the video for those who haven't seen it

stuff abt how I do it is under the read more :3

SO, the animation is done as a combination of both shapekeys and rigging! I won't go in depth with shortcut keys n shit as it would make this post ALOT longer so bare with me as I try not to sound like I lost my mind.

Much like how one would do a tween animation, I make each part of the character. Earlier work of this tech like death row, I spread it around on one file, but you can save each part separately.

The next part is that I cut out the peice from the empty space with the knife tool. While it may be easier to just save the limb as it is, I usually work with a 1920x1080 canvas for composition planning AND helps me make good topology for the limb if I need to bend it a certain way.

Here's a diagram of what I mean. Each face/polygon has 4 points so I work it out by making a tube first before adding additional cuts.

From there I'll use the sub devision modifier and Amp it up to like 2-3 depending on how much you want it to bend/deform. YOU MAY NEED TO ADD MORE LOOP CUTS as the modifier WILL deform the textures. You can adjust to whatever till the textures aren't deformed and it's dense enough to your desires :]

FROM THERE I have two shapekeys, one where it deform her enough to look to the left and one where she's looking up. I just used the sculpt tools to get the desired effect-- that's why it looks like it's done in 3d but isn't! I also have a bone that rigs part of the mesh to give her an additional bounce. From there you can aniamte the value of the shapekeys as well as the bones itself!

From there you just need to layer them as if they're paper and rig em up! You can learn rigging on your own as I am SHIT at explaining that process- but know you don't need alot of bones! The spaces i have between the layers are REAAAALLY close. Not close that its ALL flat but enough so that it doesn't distort the sizing on camera (though you can change the mode to not show perspective lol)

While I don't have a demonstration of the keys, I do have the BTS look of the animation to prove its all layers

You could easily do this shit with Adobe after effects but that shit is HEAVYY and if you have QuickTime, its easy to render out transparent videos with blender :3

I do wanna make a video abt this if I ever make another animation with these methods-- hope this helps!

[robinlmaoo]

Welcome to my Sky: COTL ask/art blog! :D

This is an account where I do multiple things, such as post art (mainly scribbles gahahaha), animations (i do mainly short animation memes/clips but i have BIG plans for BIG animatics) and… roleplay! (not that good at roleplaying yet and i might lose interest if it gets monotone but im still up for any asks/character interactions, would welcome them actually!)

Information about me…

Im quite a hardcore spirit enjoyer and tend to focus on spirits more than skykids. I still have SOME skykid OCs though, such as my sky persona Robin and the two gay coconuts whom i still have not named.

If and when you ever role-play with me, just know that I am not one for themes of heavy gore (like intestines exposed brain whatever), or NSFW themes. I am okay with roleplaying with minor gore (injuries that arent too graphic like cuts/stab wounds?), character death and angst, and swearing, though Robin wont do this themselves.

Asking + Roleplaying

My ask box is open for any random crap you might wanna drop in.

You can ask any character currently in Robin’s story, whether it be a spirit, skykid.

You can ask:

Genuine questions about the story/character

Random things you wanna say to the characters

A character interaction prompt?

Playfully rude stuff.

You may not ask:

Genuinely rude/derogatory stuff thats meant to put others down

Anything NSFW/a little too inappropriate for the record

You may not ask the characters “The Gay Coconuts” yet, because theyre very random characters I threw into the story for no reason and I literally have no idea what to do with them… yet

I use a character padlet to organise the characters in my story because they can get a lil messy sometimes. Heres the link!

Tags associated with my account:

#robin the skykid - for when i post about my main skysona, Robin!

#saki the seed - for when i post about the Seed Of Hope in the context of my universe, where they are named ‘Saki’.

#robin reflects - when me, the op of this (and @those-aurora-spirits) say something :)

Thats all. I might add more depending on what happens. Have a good day!

[ptergwen]

you know that one scene in ffh when people keep knocking on the door while fury is trying to speak to peter? could you maybe do something like that but instead it’s peter and stark reader wanting some alone time (you can make it smut or fluff idm!) also, i am so in love with your work it’s amazing :)❣️

knock before you enter

w/c: 1.3k

warnings: implied smut, dirty jokes, swearing

a/n: i went a lil overboard because i was having too much fun :,) and i kinda combined the two i hope that’s okay!

-

you let out a breath of relief as peter finally presses his lips to yours. he grins at that, his hands continuing to roam your body while you kiss. it’s a needy kiss, one you’ve been waiting the whole day to share.

you’d thought europe of all places would give you the opportunity to explore each other more. you’re away from your overbearing father, you don’t have team responsibilities. there was one mishap with a water monster nearly destroying the city. you both managed to fight it off together. tony was right to make you bring your suit, and may encouraged her nephew to do the same. the stark’s and parker’s think alike.

most of the pestering you’ve faced this trip has come from your teachers and fellow classmates. whether it’s mr. dell assigning work or flash trying to film you two for a livestream, you and peter can’t get a moment alone. that’s about to change. you’re in peter’s hotel room after a fun yet highly supervised day in venice.

most kids are getting ready for bed, at mr. harrington’s request. he’s adamant on everyone having a good night sleep before the walking tour you’re taking tomorrow. you and peter plan to do everything but sleep, however.

“you taste like toothpaste,” peter mumbles against your mouth, arms winding around your back. “is that a good or bad thing?” you giggle and tug at his undone curls. that elicits a high pitched whine from him. “depends on who you ask. me personally, i think it’s sexy.” he’s laying over you on his bed, your fingers tangling in his locks. “open up, then,” you practically purr. peter happily obliges and resumes his kissing.

right when his tongue glides over your lower lip, there’s a knock on the wall.

“i thought you said ned wouldn’t be back…” your words trail off when peter starts to kiss down your neck. “for a while,” you add, softer. “he won’t. last time i checked, he was with betty,” peter replies and effortlessly finds your sweet spot. he nudges it with his nose, making a smile spread across your face. “ok, keep going,” you pull on the roots of his hair gently. peter pecks at your lips. “gotcha, baby.”

he’s kissing his way back to your sweet spot when there’s more knocking, this time much louder. with quirked eyebrows, peter detaches his lips from your skin. “um… hello?” he hesitantly answers. “finally. i was ready to come kick down your door, you idiot,” mj speaks through the thin wall. you squeeze your eyes shut in annoyance, not saying anything. “what do you want, mj? it’s late,” peter sighs back.

“so what? i know you’re not sleeping,” mj insists, leaning against the wall. “i can hear everything. hey, y/n.” peter’s face tints a light shade of pink. you make wide eyes up at him. “hi, i guess. you good over there?” her lips form a line. “i was until the horrendous sounds of parker clapping your cheeks disturbed my reading.” peter grips at your waist with a pout.

“what? we weren’t- i- i didn’t-“ “spare me the details,” mj sharply cuts in, opening whatever mystery novel she recently bought. “i don’t care what you do, as long as you do it quietly. deal?” seeing as peter is too flustered to speak, you take over again. “yeah, sorry. we’ll tone it down. goodnight, em.” “ciao,” she says before returning to her book.

peter shakes his head, fully burying his face in your neck. “that was embarrassing. she’s so…” “nosy,” you finish for him. your fingers brush back some hair that flopped over his forehead. “at least she’s not telling on us or whatever.” he puffs air out of his cheeks, placing a kiss under your chin. “true. you wanna pick up where we left off?” “ugh, yes,” you instantly groan.

your lips are colliding with peter’s again, just like that. it isn’t for too long. his hands settle on your stomach and under your shorts, then you hear someone banging on the door. they talk before either you or peter can tell them to fuck off.

“y/n, is that you?” brad questions, your face twisting in confusion. “uh, yeah. how’d you know?” peter bites the inside of his cheek while brad converses. “i stopped by your room. betty said you might be here… with him.” the him in question is peter, who chuckles bitterly. “what’s up, buddy? we’re kind of in the middle of something. i’m sure you knew that, too.”

“i didn’t, but thanks for sharing,” brad sarcastically responds. “y/n said she’d give me her notes on one of the da vinci exhibits.” peter cocks his head to the side. “she did?” he wonders, looking over at you. “you did?” “it was either that or help him myself,” you explain and drag your fingers along the back of his neck soothingly. “the kid doesn’t leave me alone.”

peter nods, wrapping a protective arm around your middle. “she’ll give you them tomorrow, brad. isn’t it past your bedtime?” “point taken,” brad scoffs and heads back to his room. you draw peter in closer to you. “thanks, pete. hopefully, that’ll be our last guest for the night.” he kisses both your cheeks with a grin. “where were we, mio amore?”

“ooh, i love it when you speak italian,” you giggle, peter cupping your face in his hands.“grazie, bellissima.” he winks and earns a puzzled face from you. “bellissima?” “that means beautiful.” instead of responding with words, you use your mouth to move on his. peter happily kisses back and lets your tongues intertwine. things quickly heat up, peter slipping your shorts down your legs and you lifting his pajama shirt.

you’re both only half undressed and running off broken up kisses, but so desperate. you part your legs for peter, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties. “think you can keep your oath of silence?” he teases and nips at your covered collarbone. “the real question is, can you?” you challenge. peter doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door suddenly flies open.

there stands ned, his mouth agape at the sight of a shirtless peter undressing you. you’re the first to notice. you see over peter’s shoulder and gasp. concern covers his features. “what is it, baby? do you want-“ “ned!” you whisper yell. his concern becomes shock. “you want ned?” “no, peter! he’s right there!” teeth sinking into your lip, you point behind him. peter looks and surely enough, there’s his best friend rendered speechless in the doorway.

“dude, what the hell are you doing here?” peter squeaks, you grabbing your shorts from next to you. he turns around to shield you while you put them back on. “aren’t you supposed to be with betty?” “we, um, finished,” ned gulps in response. “finished what- oh.” peter scratches the back of his neck as it hits him. “yuck, ned. a gentleman never tells.” “says you! this is my room too, you know,” he defends himself, you moving out from behind peter.

“and betty’s room is also mine. consider us even,” you hand peter his t-shirt with a satisfied smirk. he murmurs a thank you and throws it back on. ned uncomfortably shifts from foot to foot in the doorway. “that’s fair… are you leaving now?” “i should before mr. harrington makes his rounds,” you reluctantly decide. “i liked it better when people actually knocked,” peter says under his breath, standing to give you a goodnight hug.

“it’s not even this bad at home. i’ll take my dad and friday spying on us over a walk of shame any day,” you exhale as peter pulls you into his chest. hugging back by his torso, you give him an innocent kiss on the cheek. his lips brush your forehead. “maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow. should we try again, same time?” a familiar and irritated voice yells through the wall. mj.

“please god, no!”

[taags-old-account]

HEHEHEHE AU IDEA

As the title says above: I have an idea for an AU. None of us have really created any recently (for the fact that it's October and everybody is writing but me). So I thought I would slide over some content for an AU idea that is another bout of pure self indulgence!:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TOA/STAR WARS CROSSOVER AU

Ok, I don't know if this has been mentioned before, if it has then whatever. I have ideas and I want to share 'em.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why it would actually be pretty interesting/cool:

Akaridion-5's relationship with the rest of the galaxy

We know almost nothing about the planet except that it creates and sends out blanks to the galaxy and has really great tech otherwise we know nothing. This would be a cool opportunity to add lore and headcanons.

I headcanon for this AU is that Akaridion-5's shields were so strong that the Star Destroyers couldn't breakthrough. So when the first Death Star was created the Empire planned to destroy the rebels then move on to Akaridion-5 (gonna shorten it down to A-5). If they couldn't take A-5 then they'll destroy it. But said Death Star was destroyed and the Star Wars plot flows smoothly. Though that is just my idea.

Either way: I think it would be interesting for more lore about space and its concepts to come through.

The TOA crew could legitimately make any part of Star Wars 10x better

They would. They could and would totally make better. The original trilogy, Prequel, and Sequel, and side series (me totally not thinking of the Mandalorian because I want Din to adopt them- NOOOOO)

But it would totally turn into a crossover fix-it fic. And depending on which part the larger or smaller the fixing may get.

Battle scenes probably wouldn't be so high stakes because there's a wee wittle moppet over there named Douxie and he-could-kill-you-with-no-hesitation dON'T ANGER HIM

The Gun Robot has to show up for at least one fight.

... LIGHTSABERS

TOA space-styled weapons and armor go brrrr.

I WANT THEM TO HAVE SPACE SWORDS OKAY

The characters actually meeting each other would be cool

I didn't really think much into this *COUGH* MANDO ADOPTING THEM *COUGH* but it would be cool.

There is such a wide range of personalities from both universes so it's hard to pick and choose who would get along and who wouldn't.

But correct me if I'm wrong but Krel would totally want to fix all these beat-up ships *ANOTHER COUGH* The Falcon and The Razors Crest *ANOTHER COUGH*. Han and Mando both adamantly refuse. Krel still manages to sneak some VERY HELPFUL tech in.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EITHER WAY-

I HAVE IDEAS ON THIS

[kiame-sama]

b + h + i + l w/ uvogin pretty please?

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As messy as he needs to be. Uvogin doesn’t shy away from blood and he is one of the few members of the Troupe who kills with a wide smile on his face. He won’t want to hurt his darling, but he will happily hurt anyone else if it means he gets to keep/ protect his darling. Man already has a pile of bodies, he is happy to add more to the pile.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Odds are, Uvo will go out of his way to seem as normal as possible around his darling (he likely won’t tell them about his affiliation with the Phantom Troupe). The only thing that could make this facade break would be if someone were going after his darling for any reason. He won’t let a damn thing hurt his darling, so he will happily slaughter that person. Odds are he will kill that person the moment they present a threat and his darling is gonna see him kill. He would be terrifying at that point, covered in blood and silently approaching. Odds are his darling will be rather skittish around him after that.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He doesn’t exactly bond with others all that often, so if he finds a darling he bonds with, he will go through hell and back to keep his darling with him and keep his darling safe. Much like how he will protect the members of the Troupe with his life, he will do the same with his darling. He plans to keep his darling no matter what, so if that means he pretends to be domestic for years, he will. If his darling realizes the truth about him and tries to run, he will be just as content to keep his darling as a captive. 

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Depends on how he meets his darling. If he meets his darling in a non-violent way, such as in passing or randomly on the street, he will be gentle in his pursuit. Uvo may be a bear of a man, but he does have intelligence under that savage need to kill.

He would likely start with having Shalnark figure out as much as possible about his darling to plan how he should approach them. Odds are, he will start with ‘randomly’ running into them or crossing paths with him. Once a general repore has been established, he will be more likely to invite his darling places under the excuse of just hanging out with friends. From that point he will try to impress his darling or get them whatever they want whenever they spend time together. He will be the big protective bear for his darling and will basically just start dating them without anyone saying anything officially. He will make the first move, but he will just as happily wait for his darling to make the first move if they want.  He will also be the kind of always hovering, always watching, needs to know who you are with and where you are at all times kind of significant other.

If he meets his darling in the context of violence, he’s gonna do the typical tie-em-up and throw ‘em over the shoulder kidnapping. He’s likely gonna try to get his darling to not be afraid of him by being more gentle with them, but if they insist on running, he will make his darling fear him so they never try to run again. He will be more animalistic in his behavior towards his darling in keeping them with him and guarding them as one guards a mate, but he will still attempt to court them gently.

[kkpaaw]

Seashell Trolls

This is gonna be a. long post so be prepared.

First let me start off with the general. These guys came to my mind randomly yesterday and I just had to make them. So i did. I spent pretty much all day today working on these guys and whole they may look wierd, I love them and am really proud of how they look

So why make a sea based Troll species? Simple. It's because we have literally only one. The Techno Trolls. The ocean is vast and there are so many creatures to base Trolls off of in the ocean so I figured why not make a sea Troll species? We have a bunch of land trolls so let's add onto the sea ones ok? I know these guys may not look like trolls to some of yall but considering that this is basically an AU I'm not worried about that lmao

Anyway lemme stop rambling and introduce yall to the Seashell Trolls!

First thing I wanna show yall is this sheet I made

This basically goes over the important aspects of their anatomy and what makes them seashell trolls

ANATOMY

• Fisrt thing to note is that these guys are small. In fact they actually match Smidge in terms of height(and we all know how small Smidge is)

• Unlike smidge though(who has her strength and hair to make up for her small stature) Seashell Trolls have none of that. They are a pretty weak species and their shells, depending on the size, only add a little bit of height

• Speaking of shells, notice how the center focus Shell Troll has a small shell while the ones at the bottom have bigger ones? That's because there isn't just one size for shells not just one kind either, they can be any kind and any shape.

• Another thing to note is that they aren't actually born with the shells, Shellings(baby Seashell Trolls) seek them out when they hatch, like an instinct sort of thing.

• Because of this, in order to help the Shellings get a shell without going too far from safety. They have an area in their home that specifically has millions of Unused/Unclaimed shells that their parents can take their Shelling to claim a shell.

• Picking a shell isn't just some random thing for Seashell Trolls. It's a sacred one time thing as Shelling's only pick shells they feel bonds with, meaning that their shells mean a lot to them and they don't just swap out or get rid of the shells. They stick with them for life

• Another things to note is the antennae on the Seashell Trolls. They have two different types of Antennas, Prickly/Fuzzy and Coral.

BIOLOGY

• Jumping right to it they can spit water at others(think of a blowhole from a whale or a dolphin but with their mouths) it's not all that powerful it's mostly used as a way to distract a predator or just have fun

• Despite being very small, they are surprisingly fast and can be very tricky to catch if they aren't caught off guard

• They also are amazing trackers, as they can sense the heat trail that living beating emitting and therefore can track others long after they have dissapeared. They also often find all types of valuable items

• Seashell Trolls tend to come in all sorts of crazy colors with many having multiple colors on their bodies as shown below.

• In contrast their shells are usually dull in color. This helps them to blend into the sand if they need too.

• Bonding is something that Seashell trolls take seriously. You don't bond with someone(s) unless you plan to stay mates for life

• When a seashell troll is courting someone(s) they will usually start the courting process by breaking off a piece of their shell and giving it to their person of courting, usually by making a piece of jewelry with it. This is a sign that the troll is serious in their courtship as said above, Seashell trolls value their shells and never separate from them once chosen as a Shelling

• Seashell Trolls can mate with anyone of any gender, but in order to have a kid they would need a mate(or mates)

HOME AND GOVERNMENT

• Seashell Trolls live in groups all throughout the ocean(like shells) the biggest group(and the one I'm focusing on for any future drawings of this species) resides in a small underwater rocky coral reef close to the first level of the seafloor as they like to remain close to the sand incase they need to dig under it to protect themselves

• Due to being such a weak and small species, they actually heavily reli on bigger creatures(like crabs or lobsters) to offer protection from others predators(the kicker is that crabs and lobsters are common predators for them so they are basically seeking help from one of their predators)

• This has created a very unbalanced system for them however, as their protectors often require they work for them and do almost impossible tasks in the threat that if they don't, they won't offer their protection anymore

• This particular group is under the rule of Queen Urbosa, a large Lobster who has offered her protection in return that the Seashell trolls do whatever she says, in which they agreed.

• She's not a good one and often abuses the absolute hell out of her power which ends up going bad for the Seashell Trolls

• She's actually forbid them from singing and dancing outloud unless they are performing for her so if they want to sing they have to be quiet or be secret about it

MUSIC

• Please don't kill me, but I'm making their music genre Nightcore

I KNOW I KNOW, Nightcore isn't an actual official Genre because of the fact that it basically takes pre-existing music and just makes it high pitch and sped up, I'm well aware. However, it still is under EDM like Techno and since I imagine Shell Trolls having high pitched voices(with the exception of a rare few) it works for me

_____

ALRIGHTY

You still here? If so great! You've reached the end!

I truly hope you guys like them because I worked really hard on them and I'm super proud of how they came out(heck even if u don't I'm still happy with em). Do, very much do, expect to see more from the Seashell Trolls as I will be expanding on their universe and introduce you to some characters I'll be mainly focusing on (hint hint you've already seen them)

Bye bye for now!

[searchingwardrobes]

The Convenient Groom: 10/14

Well, here it is everyone! One of the chapters I have been really looking forward to! There’s no kissing, but I give you platonic bed sharing plus emotional hurt/comfort with a side of jealousy. Enjoy!

Summary: Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it could also mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that. Written for @spartanguard​​ .

Rating: M

Words: about 5k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging:@snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​ @kmomof4​​ @let-it-raines​ @teamhook​​ @bethacaciakay​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @tiganasummertree​ @shireness-says​​ @stahlop​​ @scientificapricot​​ @welllpthisishappening​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @thislassishooked​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @kday426​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @nikkiemms​ @distant-rose @optomisticgirl​​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @carpedzem​ @ohmakemeahercules​​ @branlovestowrite​ @superchocovian​ @sherlockianwhovian​​ @vvbooklady1256​ @hollyethecurious​​ @winterbaby89​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615​ @snidgetsafan​

Emma sighed as she polished off another piece of toast. She brushed the crumbs from her lap and relaxed into the comfortable chair on the back porch. She enjoyed the view of the ocean and the soothing sound of surf. It felt wonderful to be out in the fresh air after days cooped up inside sick. She contemplated going back to the kitchen for something more substantial, but she had given Killian her word. Besides, she’d already pushed her luck by spreading an extremely thin layer of butter on her toast.

Her cell phone started ringing on the patio table, and she jumped as if Killian had some sort of sixth sense about the butter. It was Ruby calling, however, not Killian.

“Hey, Rubes.”

“Hey, Ems,” Ruby’s simple reply was laced with meaning, “sooo, how’s it going being married to Mr. Hottie? Please tell me he leaves crumbs in the bed or smells really bad when he first wakes up in the morning. Otherwise I’ll be depressed over the state of my love life.”

Emma laughed as she flicked a few more errant crumbs off her pajama pants. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s annoyingly neat. As for what he smells like when he wakes up, I wouldn’t know.”

There was a fumbling sound on the other end and a muttered curse from Ruby. “I’m sorry, I almost dropped my phone. How the hell do you not know? Please tell me you’re not -”

“Making him sleep on the couch? Well, yes. This isn’t the fifteenth century where I sold my body for a goat or something.”

“So the poor man has to sleep on the couch indefinitely?”

“Well, technically, I’ve slept on the couch the past couple of days. I had some sort of stomach bug.”

“That sucks, Ems, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Killian took good care of me.

“Did he?” Once again, Ruby’s voice was laced with unspoken meaning.

“Don’t start, Ruby, he was just being nice.”

“If he took care of you when you were sick, I personally think you should let him back in the bed.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I can’t let him back in bed if he was never in it to begin with.”

“Girl, I would change that arrangement ASAP.”

Emma just laughed and shook her head. “Ruby -”

“Emma,” her friend countered, “if you’re going to be married to that for a year, you might as well enjoy it.”

“And the purpose of this call is exactly . . . “

“Fine, fine,” Ruby muttered, “straight to business, if that’s what you want.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Okay, well Regina asked me to call and go over your itinerary for the book promotion.”

Emma rose from her chair to go back inside and find her laptop so she could pull up her calendar. “That’s good. I feel so out of the loop. I mean, I’m back to normal at my practice, but the new book has honestly been the last thing on my mind.”

“I don’t blame you with that fine piece of -”

“Ruby,” Emma cut her off, “focus.”

“Right, right, okay . . . so, we’ve got that interview set up on The Tiana Show. And Regina did tell you that will also have a Q&A segment with the audience, right?”

“Mhm,” Emma said as she scrolled through her calendar, “yeah, I made a note of that.”

“They also requested that Killian be there, and Regina okayed it.”

“Wait - what?”

Ruby’s voice was reassuring. “They just want him in the audience. You know, so they can pan to his reactions and stuff.”

Emma slouched back on the couch and wearily rubbed her forehead. “Ruby, how could the two of you not check with me first? Killian has a business to run. He might not be able to take off to New York in the middle of the week.”

“I don’t know, the man seems pretty willing to come running when you call.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, never mind,” Ruby said hurriedly. She changed the subject to the next item on Emma’s itinerary, and Emma didn’t press it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what her friend meant by the comment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Killian came home from work, he had a huge pot of chicken noodle soup that Elsa had made. It made Emma wonder if the woman cooked anything but soup. She was also grateful for something to eat that wasn’t toast. Personally, she could go for a cheeseburger, but she doubted Killian would agree.

He did, however, agree to eating outside on the back porch. He also said nothing when Emma slathered a hunk of French bread with butter. The bit she had at lunch hadn’t bothered her stomach, not that she would tell Killian that.

“Why do you look so nervous?” Killian asked her after blowing on a spoonful of soup.

Emma jabbed at a chunk of chicken with her spoon rather than looking at him. “I just have to ask you something, and I’m a little nervous you’ll be pissed.”

His forehead creased. “Why would I be? Emma, seriously, you can ask me anything.”

Emma gave him a tentative smile. “That’s sweet, but it’s just . . . well, my agent kind of agreed to something for you.”

Killian rested his elbows on the table. “Okay, I guess that was inconsiderate of her, but I’m not going to blow up about it or anything. Especially not at you.”

Emma let out a breath of air. “Good, and I told Ruby that they need to ask first from here on out.”

Killian tore a piece of bread from the loaf and dipped it into his soup. “So, what is it? I may have to tell them no, depending on what it is, but . . . “

He trailed off and shrugged as if to say he would have an open mind about it.

“They want you to go with me to do a talk show in New York City in a couple of weeks. Not to be interviewed or anything,” Emma rushed to add, “just to be in the audience. The show wants you there for like, reactions or whatever while they’re interviewing me.”

Killian nodded, completely calm, and it honestly threw her more than if he’d gotten pissed. “That’s fine with me. When is it?”

“A week from this coming Wednesday?”

He shook his head at her as a smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to phrase it as a question. I don’t bite, love. Unless you ask me to, that is.”

He punctuated the innuendo with a wink, and she rolled her eyes as she laughed. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

“I try.”

“So can you do it?”

“I don’t see why not. I don’t have any plans.”

“But isn’t this your busy time of year? I mean, with all the tourists around.”

He reached out and took her hand. “Not so much that I can’t take one day to support your career.”

Emma felt her jaw drop slightly, and her gaze flicked to where his thumb was caressing her knuckles. When he saw her expression, he quickly pulled his hand away and cleared his throat.

“I mean, that’s the whole reason for this arrangement, aye?”

“Right,” Emma said with a nod, “to save my career.”

Silence fell between them as they continued eating their soup. Emma drained her bowl with a sigh, almost embarrassed at how ravenously she had eaten.

“Did that hit the spot?”

“Definitely,” she replied, patting her stomach, “I just hope I don’t regret it later.”

“I’m sure if your appetite has returned that you’ll be fine. Besides, it was soup.”

She nodded, regarding him thoughtfully as he continued to leisurely eat his own dinner. “So,” she finally worked up the courage to ask, leaning her elbows on the table, “your half of the bargain was that I would casually help your brother out with his marriage. But from what I see, they’re fine.”

Now it was Killian’s jaw dropping as he paused his eating, spoon held in midair. Emma arched one brow at him.

“Well,” he finally said, resting his spoon on the table, “they do love each other tremendously, and Elsa’s good for Liam -”

“But?”

“But, there’s been some tension lately.”

Emma searched his face intently as she rested her chin on her clasped hands. She didn’t know why in the world he would lie about his brother needing her help, but it felt like he was grasping for words. “Tension?”

“Aye, tension. Elsa’s ready to start a family, you see, and Liam -”

“Doesn’t want kids?”

“No, no, it’s not that. He does. It’s just . . . he wants to be sure they’re ready. Financially speaking.”

“That’s wise. Having children isn’t something you do lightly.”

“And Elsa understands that, but she -”

Emma lifted a hand. “If you say anything about her biological clock, I might dump the rest of that soup over your head.”

His eyes widened at that. “Okay, I sense a touchiness -”

She gave him a withering glare. “I just don’t like women being treated like they have a shelf life, that’s all.”

Killian leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed, his brow furrowed. Uh-oh. “So you’re going to deny basic biology?”

“What basic biology?”

“That there are a certain number of years -”

“Choose your words very carefully, buddy.”

His hands dropped to the table, and she noticed that his hands were now clenched in fists. “All I’m saying is that Elsa’s waited the first five years of their marriage for something she wants deeply, and my brother is being way too practical. As usual.”

“You have to be practical - it’s a lifetime commitment!”

“But no one can ever be one hundred percent prepared!”

This had quickly gotten out of hand, both their voices rising slightly, and Emma wasn’t even sure where the conversation had gone off the rails. She took a deep breath and when she spoke again, she used her professional therapist voice.

“It’s a big decision that you shouldn’t rush into.”

Killian leaned across the table, his eyes flashing. “Or it’s something that scares you to death, scares the hell out of you actually because you never had a good example of what a father should be. So even though you want it more than you ever wanted anything, that fear holds you back. So you wait, then wait some more, until one day you’ve waited too long!”

He rose from the table then, so forcefully that the chair behind him flew backwards and wobbled, almost toppling over. Then Killian turned and left, the screen porch door slamming behind him as he headed down the beach.

Emma just sat there for a moment, processing what the hell just happened, and suddenly understanding dawned. She didn’t have a phD in psychology for nothing.

This had nothing at all to do with Elsa and Liam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian came to a dead stop halfway down the beach when he realized what he was doing. He leaned over his knees, taking big gulps of air. It wasn’t from the exertion of his run - he was in better shape than that - it was the sudden fear washing over him. How could he be this stupid twice? And Emma was just getting over being sick. What if she tried to follow him, got dizzy, and . . . and . . .

He couldn’t finish the thought. Instead, after one more deep breath, he raced back the way he had come. The fear was even worse when he saw how far he’d run. The house seemed so far away . . .

Finally, he slowed down right at the back of the house. In the distance, he saw Emma by the fire pit talking to Anna. Relief flooded through him, and he suddenly felt like he’d run a 10k in less than a minute. Once again, he was leaning over, bracing his hands on his knees. Emma turned towards him, but he couldn’t tell from here if she was angry or not. Then she turned back to Anna, gesturing in his direction. Anna nodded, then turned around and went back into the house.

Killian straightened as Emma drew closer. Her arms were crossed, holding a sweater around her frame, and the ocean breeze tugged at her hair. Even when she got close, her expression was unreadable.

“I’m sorry.”

Seemed as good a place as any to start.

She tilted her head at him. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t know.”

Killian blinked, then looked back over Emma’s shoulder at his brother’s house. He sighed, “Anna told you?”

Emma nodded, then her expression changed, and her eyes widened. “Wait - did you race back here because you were worried about me?”

Killian ran a hand wearily over his face. “It was just so eerily the same. A fight, me running off -”

Emma stopped his words with a gentle hand to his arm. “Her death wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just a senseless accident.”

“You don’t understand, Emma. We fought about . . . “ he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “We were renovating our house, on the other side of Storybrooke. We added on a new master suite, giving us three bedrooms instead of two, and then Milah suddenly starts referring to one of them as a nursery.” He turned to look out at the water, his hand raking through his hair. Emma said nothing.

“I always brushed her off with a joke or something. Finally, we talked about it, and I told her I wasn’t sure we were in a good place financially. The truth was, I was scared.”

“Of what?”

He turned to look into her green eyes. “Of failing. As a father. My dad left us when we were kids, you see, and . . . well, how was I supposed to know what a good father looked like?”

Emma just nodded. “I understand that fear.” She settled down in the sand and motioned for him to join her. He did, knowing she might still be weak from being sick.

Killian shook his head and sighed before continuing. “But it meant so much to her. Her first husband never wanted kids either, was really volatile about the issue, and it got to be a touchy subject between us.”

Emma said nothing, just looked at him with an expression that made him feel it was safe to go on. No wonder she was so good at her job.

“One day, we were in the middle of working on the house, and she confronted me about it, wouldn’t let me deflect. We ended up getting into a huge fight, and I took off in anger. Just like I did tonight.” He struggled to go on, lowering his head so she couldn’t see the tears starting to form.

“You don’t need to explain the rest if you don’t want to. Anna told me.”

“If I had been there, she might not have fallen off that ladder.”

“You don’t know that.”

“She might have lived.”

“Killian,” she said in a soft voice, “Anna told me what the coroner said. She broke her neck. Even if you had been there, you wouldn’t have been able to save her.”

He shook his head, clenching his jaw. “But she might not even have been on that ladder if I hadn’t taken off. She might have been more careful. She was probably so distracted . . . “

“Killian look at me,” Emma knelt down in front of him in the sand and took his face in her hands. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was only gone for ten minutes. No one expects their life to change that much in ten minutes.”

Emma gave him an encouraging smile. She had also started to stroke his face, and he wondered if she even realized she was doing it.

“Exactly. Ten minutes. How could you have possibly known what would happen? You left for a few minutes to calm down. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I . . . I didn’t . . . it wasn’t my fault.”

Emma nodded. Liam had told him the same thing a thousand times. So had Elsa. And David. Yet for some reason, here on the beach with Emma’s soothing voice and gentle hands, the truth of it finally washed over him like the waves crashing against the shore. Something broke inside of him, and his head fell forward onto Emma’s shoulder. She wrapped one arm around him while she stroked his hair with her other hand. He waited for tears to come, for sobs to shake his body, but instead he felt lighter somehow. He supposed he’d shed an ocean of tears for Milah over the years, and nothing but a shaky sigh was left.

“She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself,” Emma told him.

He pulled back and took Emma’s hands in his. “You’re right. She wouldn’t.” He stared down at Emma’s hands for a minute, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. The sound of the ocean surrounded them, and he slowly breathed in the salty smell of it, then exhaled.

“Better?” Emma asked.

He nodded, feeling slightly sheepish all of a sudden. He rose to his feet and offered Emma a hand, which she took. Once she was up, he turned towards the house, but she didn’t relinquish his hand.

“You know,” he told her, “I never scheduled a session.”

She laughed. “Lucky for you I had an opening.”

“How much do I owe you?” he teased, bumping her hip.

“This one’s on the house, Jones.”

Despite their fight and the intense conversation on the beach, they spent the rest of the evening the way they normally did - on the couch with Netflix. Around eleven, Emma stretched and yawned.

“You’ve got me falling into the sleeping habits of an old man,” she told him, poking his leg with her toe.

“Hey, I may have a few years on you, but I’ve retained my youthful glow.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes as she rose from the couch, wrapping an afghan around her. “What about you?”

A yawn cracked his own jaw as he rubbed at his tired eyes. “I think I’m ready to turn this couch into my bed for the night.”

Emma chewed on her lower lip as she regarded him carefully. “Why don’t we just share the bed?”

He arched a brow at her. “Seriously?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, why not? I mean, we’re both adults.”

Killian rubbed at his jaw as he thought it over. He wouldn’t lie, he was sick of the couch. And as long she was comfortable with it . . .

“Come on,” Emma said, giving him a playful kick, “don’t make a big deal out of it. You know you miss sleeping in a real bed.”

“Well, if you’re sure -”

“One hundred percent.”

“Okay then.” He tossed aside the remote, got up, and followed Emma down the hall. She had already changed into her pajamas, so she brushed her teeth while Killian changed in the bedroom. He went ahead and slipped under the sheets and flipped off the light before Emma came in. Why was his heart pounding like a fifteen year old?

He heard Emma shut off the faucet and flip off the bathroom light. “Whoah, it’s dark!” Emma cried as she stepped into the room. “Why are you hiding? Do you sleep in the nude?”

“No,” Killian protested, “well, not totally. I mean, I’m wearing boxers.” Shut up, he reprimanded himself, you sound like a nervous idiot.

Emma swore under her breath as she tripped over something on her way to the bed. Knowing her, it was a pair of shoes. He felt the bed dip as she got in and wrapped herself up in the covers. He tried to make her out in the dark, but all he could see was her hair.

“Good night,” Emma whispered.

“Good night,” he whispered back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian was awakened the next morning because something was tickling his nose. It was Emma’s hair - spread all over her pillow and his. He brushed it out of his face as he rolled over. Emma was curled up on her side, her back to him. He took the opportunity to admire her creamy shoulders on display. One strap of her tank top had slipped, and the sight had him getting hard. He was just about to slip out of bed before she noticed how - er - excited he was to see her, when she suddenly rolled over to face him.

“Hey,” she said groggily.

“Hey,” he answered, his voice strained. He tried to inch farther away from her without making it obvious.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

He blinked. “Uh, why would I be embarrassed? Like you said last night, we’re adults.”

“Exactly,” Emma replied through a yawn. She arched her back and stretched both arms over her head, which definitely didn’t help his erection. “And I’m also an adult who counsels couples and has extensive knowledge of sexual physiology and psychology.”

“Are you bragging, Swan?”

“No. I’m just trying to explain why I understand your situation. After all, it’s extremely normal for a healthy man to wake up with an erection.”

She smirked at him as he coughed. He wished he had control over the red creeping up his cheeks. He quickly recovered, however, and winked at her.

“That confident that I’m happy to see you?”

She shrugged, that damn strap still teasing him. “Guess it’s good I’m not a cuddler, or there would be no doubt.”

“Oh trust me, love,” he told her, dropping his voice an octave, “when I jab you with my sword, you’ll feel it.”

Now she was the one blinking rapidly as a blush stained her cheeks. He laughed as he flung the sheets aside.

“Now look away, darling, unless you want an eyeful. My boxers have never been able to contain my prodigious manhood.”

She didn’t respond at first, and he chuckled again. But when he reached the door of the bathroom, his pillow hit him in the back of the head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sharing a bed was changing Emma’s sleeping habits. She was getting up earlier for two reasons: one, she had lied to Killian. She apparently was a cuddler. Every morning her eyes flew open before the sun was up when her body sensed something warm, solid, and hairy beneath her cheek. She always extricated herself from his embrace before he woke up. Second, Killian had convinced her to ditch her treadmill and join him on his jogs. She had to admit, she looked forward to her morning workout more with the combination of the gorgeous setting, Smee’s encouragement, and Killian’s company.

He wasn’t chatty on the morning runs, for which she was grateful. She preferred getting in the zone when she exercised. However, they were talking over breakfast and coffee each day. Now that she was up earlier, she had time for more than a bagel as she dashed out the door. She could honestly say that they were friends now, and she enjoyed his company. She had hopes that things wouldn’t be weird after all this was over, and they could still hang out. Especially since they worked in the same building.

Emma was far more aware of the sounds coming from below her than she used to be (heavy metal music aside). She now knew the difference between the sound of the table saw versus the sander, for example, though both were faint by the time they reached her ears. Her clients probably didn’t even notice.

She also knew when he was meeting with a client. The sounds in his workshop ceased and the pleasant timbre of his voice drifted up through the vents. Not enough for her to eavesdrop, but enough to bring a smile to her face. He was talented at what he did, and she wanted him to succeed.

Right now, she could hear the buzz of his table saw as she listened to her current client talk about finally setting boundaries without apologies with the man she had just started dating. Emma was encouraged by her progress, and honestly proud of the young woman. When she first started seeing Emma, she was broken and filled with social anxiety after going through a very public breakup. It had taken a year for the woman to even accept a date from a man who had already proven himself as a good friend. Now, here she was speaking up for herself without apology.

“You know, Jasmine,” Emma told her, “I think you are at a very healthy place. How about we try meeting every six weeks instead of monthly?”

“Really?” the woman asked, beaming. “I think that would work. Does that mean I don’t need the citalopram anymore?”

“No, I think you should still take it. Talk it over with your doctor, but it’s a really safe medication, and ten milligrams a day is a very small dose. Besides, remember what I always say?”

“Medication is just another of my tools to help me cope and nothing to be ashamed of.”

Emma grinned. “Exactly.”

They both rose, and Emma showed Jasmine to the door at the top of the stairs. Over the brunette's shoulder, she saw Killian welcome in a smiling redhead. The woman flipped her hair over one shoulder as she laughed, then she laid a hand on Killian’s bicep. Killian smiled back, then - Emma’s breath caught - he reached up and scratched behind his ear! Emma’s lips pressed together in a thin line. That was his tell when he was nervous - usually sexually nervous. Emma barely heard Jasmine’s goodbye as her head spun. She leaned over to try and see the pair, but Killian led the redhead further into his shop and out of sight.

Emma went back into her office and started pacing in the small waiting area. Ariel! That was the woman’s name. Killian had made an arbor for her wedding to Eric, similar to the one he had made for her. Well, this Eric might want to know that his wife was flirting with other people’s husbands.

As soon as the thought entered her brain, Emma tried to put on her therapist hat and remind her subconscious that the woman’s red hair had triggered memories of Walsh’s infidelity with Zelena.

Her subconscious was hearing none of it.

Emma stilled her movements and cocked her head as she tried to make out the low voices from the first floor. Were they laughing again? The woman sure was smiling a hell of a lot.

Maybe she always smiles a lot. Therapist Emma tried to say.

Her subconscious ignored Therapist Emma.

Emma marched over to the floor vent near the door so she could hear better. All she could make out was Killian’s accent and Ariel’s more bubbly voice, but not what they were saying. She rolled her eyes and let out a huff of breath before getting down on her hands and knees. Wait, was that more laughter? She leaned closer, turning her ear to the vent and concentrating. She thought she heard Ariel say Killian’s name. In her mind’s eye, she saw her smiling brightly at him, flicking that unfairly beautiful shade of red hair over one shoulder, and gushing, “Oh Killian, you are just so funny.”

Emma snapped back to reality and realized that it had gone quiet. Why were they quiet all of a sudden? What were they doing? Emma’s ear was practically pressed to the vent at this point, and -

“What the bloody hell are you doing?”

Emma let out a strangled yelp as she jumped up from the floor. Killian was standing there in her doorway, looking at her with confusion etched on his brow and barely contained humor teasing the corners of his lips. She blinked and suddenly wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. She had been acting like a complete fool!

“Umm . . . I was . . . looking for something. What are you doing up here?”

He arched a brow at her and struggled to keep a smile at bay. “It’s lunch time. We were going to go over to Granny’s - remember? What did you lose?”

“Lose?”

“You said you lost something,” he said, gesturing to where she’d been on all fours like a dog.

“My earring,” she lied quickly, “I thought maybe it rolled into the vent.”

“Oh,” he said, “well let me help you -”

“No that’s okay!” she told him hurriedly. “I found it, see?” She held up an empty hand with the fingertips pinched together as if she were holding something, then she pretended to fiddle with her earring. Thank God she wore studs!

Killian arched a brow at her, then sauntered close. So close, his chest almost brushed hers. She had to tilt her head to look up at him. He leaned down, his lips almost brushing her ear.

“You mean this earring, love?” he purred. He reached up and caressed the ruby stud with his calloused fingers. “The one you were already wearing when you first stood up?”

He pulled back just enough so he could look her in the eye, and the sinful smile upon his face should have made her furious.

But it didn’t. Damn him, it almost made her melt into a puddle of goo on the floor.

HIs eyes scanned her face, and for one thrilling moment she thought he would kiss her. Kiss her with absolutely no one watching. But then he pulled back and walked backwards towards the door.

“You coming, love? Grilled cheese at Granny’s?”

“Uh . . . yeah,” she muttered.

Emma wanted a way to wipe that shit eating grin off his face, but she couldn’t figure out how to do it.

“Oh and Emma,” Killian said before she could head down the stairs, “Ariel was smiling and laughing because she and Eric need me to make them a cradle. For their new baby.”

His satisfied smile as he sauntered past her down the stairs made her want to kick him in the ass as hard as she could. Mostly. But another part of her was too busy being relieved about Ariel’s order.

[kiapet2]

Aperture Sides Facility, Chapter 8: But I Think We Can Put Our Differences Behind Us. For Science. You Monster.

Masterpost

Chapter Summary: Test Chambers 2: Now Featuring More Things That Kill You!

Chapter Warnings: Death Mentions, Sex Mentions, Death Threats, Robotic Body Horror

Travelling with Janus is surprisingly chill, at least to start. He mostly seems to sleep, or whatever it is he does when his light is off, and you mostly focus on solving the puzzle Remus sets in front of you.

Said puzzle is actually pretty tame for the most part, which is pleasantly surprising considering who exactly is making the current test chambers, but also fills you with consternation about just what Remus might be cooking up in the meantime. Because there’s no way he’s just sticking to- what’s that blue spirally thing you just used to float yourself upwards? An Excursion Funnel? Yeah, you think that’s what Remus said. There’s no way he’s stopping at something as tame as Excursion Funnels, or at least ones that don’t end in spike traps or something.

Then you see the next chamber, and yup, that’s about what you expected.

“What’s the matter?” Janus says, noticing you hesitating. “The way forward is perfectly simple.”

You honestly can’t tell if Janus really does think the puzzle is easy or if he’s doing that sarcastic double-speak he seems to like. You can see the clearly intended solution of the puzzle easily enough- you need to jump into that horizontal Excursion Funnel, then redirect it using portals at the right times in order to switch the direction it carries you and get yourself over to the cube dispenser. What makes it not-so-simple, however, is the fact that these careful maneuvers would have to take place while hanging in midair over a freaking bottomless pit.

“I’m just not crazy about the potential for falling to my death,” you say. “Unless I’d be able to land on my Long Fall Boots, I guess?”

“He probably filled the pit with spikes,” Janus says.

“Great,” you mutter, nervously fiddling with the portal gun.

A large, black rectangle on the wall resolves into an image of Remus, and belatedly you realize it’s some sort of display screen.

“Hey dorks!” he says, peering down at you. “What’s the hold up?”

“Just… figuring it out?” you say, unsure how to respond to your current captor actually holding a conversation with you.

“Well get going! I need my orgasm, it’s time to Get. It. On!

He does a little shimmy during the last bit, his long, flexible body wiggling back and forth, before the screen once again goes black.

“His-” you choke, and Janus sighs.

“That body- my body- has a built-in euphoric response to testing. It can be… difficult to acclimate to, particularly if you’re not used to it. I was perfectly fine, of course, but Remus has all the self-control of a lemming on LSD. We may be in a bit of trouble here.”

You furrow your brow, confused. “Why would Remus feeling good be dangerous to me? Don’t we want him to have a reason to keep us around?”

“You’re right, a human such as yourself is absolutely capable of fulfilling any and all demands necessary to accommodate an artificial intelligence who is literally addicted to the process of testing. You definitely don’t need to eat, or sleep, or take the occasional rest.”

“And once he gets bored with me…” you say, following the line of reasoning.

“He gets rid of you,” Janus confirms, “and likely me along with you. So let’s not do that, shall we?”

“We’ll call ‘not boring the out of control AI who wants to kill us’ Plan A,” you agree.

And that means actually doing the tests, instead of standing at the edge feeling scared. Staring down at the Excursion Funnel spiraling horizontally below you, you take a deep breath, then jump.

A few heart-stopping minutes later, you’ve successfully made your way over to the cube dispenser. Using portals you shift the Excursion Funnel so that it’s pointed upwards under the dispenser, then press the button. The dispenser drops a cube down into the abyss, and you wait patiently as the cube gently floats up to your level, buoyed by the spiraling Excursion Funnel.

Then the cube actually reaches your eye level, and you bite back a curse, stumbling backwards and falling on your butt.

Cackling sounds over the speakers as Remus once again appears on the tall screen. “Like my newest inventions, Tommy-boy? I made ’em just for you!”

“Why?” you groan, staring as the cube continues to rise, the two turrets that have somehow been fused into one of the cube’s sides chittering fearfully.

Remus laughs even harder. “It’s an improvement! I call it the Frankenturret: a true work of art.”

You shift the funnel away just long enough to let the- the Frankenturret, ugh, fall back down a ways before switching it back in order to lift the cube back up to your level. You gingerly reach out with the Portal Gun and grab the cube, before turning and practically running over to set it on the correct button.

You’re just congratulating yourself on another test solved when the turrets fused into the cube pop out legs and proceed to drag the cube forward and off the button, and okay what the fuck.

You shudder, then reach out and grab the Frankenturret again, watching it pull its legs back in as you do. You place it back on the button, this time upside down. You wait a moment, poised to grab it again, but the turret-cube seems to be staying in place.

You groan, practically falling back to sit on the floor. “That was a nightmare.”

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Remus says gleefully, popping back onto the screen. “Chop, chop, Tommy-pastrami, on to the next one!”

Your body feels like one massive bruise, and for a moment you’re tempted to sit a while longer or even lie down, Remus or no Remus.

Then you remember Janus’ warning: And once he gets bored… he gets rid of you.

Bracing yourself, you force yourself to stand, legs shaking, and make your way into the elevator.

When you enter the next test chamber, you find yourself stopping and staring. Instead of the enclosed test chambers you’re used to, this chamber appears to be missing the better part of one wall, giving you a view out into the massive cavern this chamber is apparently hanging in. As you watch, another large test chamber glides slowly towards you on a massive version of the Cores’ movement rails, grinding loudly against the cavern wall as it does so. You realize after a moment that the other room is on a collision course with yours, and you are just reaching for the wall to try and steady yourself when the other room connects with yours with a crash that sends you stumbling to keep your balance. The sides of the walls crunch and bend with the force, making a horrible grating noise of metal on metal.

Finally, the noise and vibrations subside, leaving you in a room that’s twice as big as it previously was, and also considerably more beaten up.

“Remus!” Janus yells, his yellow light flickering back to life. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Making a test chamber,” Remus says innocently. “I think it looks better now, don’t you?”

“The modular test chambers aren’t designed to be handled like that! You just broke equipment we have no way to replace!”

“Oh come on, Jan,” Remus says. “Who cares about some crummy old equipment when there’s testing to do? These chambers don’t just make themselves, you know!”

“This isn’t good,” Janus murmurs to you as you move forward to investigate the deep pit that the two halves of the chamber have formed. “He’s becoming more and more distracted from the well-being of this facility. There are functions that need to be maintained to keep the facility from undergoing complete destruction, and the longer he keeps this up the more likely he is to forget them entirely.”

It must be serious, if Janus isn’t even being sarcastic about the situation anymore. Mindful to not take too much time and risk boring Remus, you quickly redirect the chamber’s Excursion Funnel using a couple of portals, then use it to carry yourself across the newly created floor gap.

“How much time do we have?” you mutter as you press the dispenser button and get (oh joy) another Frankenturret.

“It depends on how far gone he is,” Janus says. “Days, if we’re lucky.”

You let out a breath. “Then it’s even more important to find a way to get out of here.”

Janus gasps melodramatically. “Of course, escaping! Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Just see what you can do, okay?”

The conversation comes to a lull as you finish up the level, using the Excursion Funnels to direct the cube back across the chasm, and in one heart-stopping moment, using a special panel to launch yourself into a Funnel’s path halfway across. You end the puzzle by floating the cube up and then sideways, pushing it into a button on the wall.

“Ah,” Remus moans as the cube presses the button inwards. “That’s… huh. That was kind of disappointing, actually.”

“Oh dear, it’s happening sooner than I expected,” Janus says as your blood turns to ice. After a moment he adds, “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

You don’t call him on the lie.

“I’ve got some old friends for you to see!” Remus says gleefully as you enter the next test chamber. The first “old friend” becomes clear as you see white Conversion Gel dripping from a pipe in the ceiling, into a chasm. Because there’s no clear surface the gel is falling onto, there’s no way to use your old strategy of shooting a portal onto the puddle of gel and letting the new drips fall through one portal and get shot out of the other. In fact, there doesn’t seem to be any way of catching or redirecting the falling gel, not until you notice the familiar moving spiral of an Excursion Funnel.

You’re just using the Funnel to move the gel to where you want it when you hear a voice that you’re pretty sure at this point is going to echo in your nightmares:

There you are.

Instinctively, you drop and roll, putting a wall between yourself and the several turrets that begin shooting at you. You’re just preparing to sneak a look at them, and hopefully figure out how to take them down, when you hear the familiar “AaAaaAa” and frantic shooting that accompanies turrets being knocked over. How in the world-

“Of course when I finally find you, you’re getting shot at.”

You probably jump about a foot into the air, adrenaline already on high from the dangerous situation. You turn and smile at the source of the surprise.

“Virgil! You’re here!”

He gives a two-fingered salute. “Sup, Thomas.”

You look him over, looking for dents or missing pieces and finding none. “Are you okay? What’s been going on out there?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil says, rolling his eye. “Being a worrywart is my job, stop stealing my thing.”

“Sorry,” you say, grinning, “I’m just really happy to see a friendly face.”

“Sorry it took me so long to find you,” Virgil says.

You shake your hand. “No, I get it. Remus has been moving things around a lot, it must be really weird from the outside.”

“Remus,” Virgil hisses. “What has that bastard been doing to you?”

“Mostly just testing, at this point,” you say. “But Janus thinks we might be in more danger soon.”

“Janus?” Virgil shrills, looking around wildly. “Where is he?”

“Right here,” you say, nodding down at where he’s speared onto your Portal Gun, currently inert.

“The- the potato,” Virgil says dubiously.

“It’s a long story.”

Virgil closes his eye and shakes his center plates back and forth so hard you hear rattling. “Never mind, it’s not important. What the hell are you doing, carrying Janus of all people around with you?”

“He said he’d help,” you say defensively.

“And you believed him?”

You think now probably wouldn’t be the best time to bring up the deal you and Janus made. “He’s in trouble as much as I am, Virge. And he can’t really do much as a potato- if he even thinks too hard he’ll blow a circuit.”

Virgil looks at the potato with a narrowed eye. “You still can’t trust him.”

“I trust him to look out for himself. For right now, that works for both of us.”

“I’ll be careful, Virge,” you add when he continues to glare.

Virgil sighs and finally breaks your gaze. “All right. What do you need right now?”

Your heart gives a little squeeze of pride at the question; Virgil has grown so much from the snide, antisocial Core you first met.

“I’m okay for right now. Go find the others- I’m going to find a way to escape, and when I do we’ll need to be ready to face whatever comes next.”

“Okay,” Virgil says, “but you’d better not die. If you do I’ll get Remus to invest in figuring out how to reanimate the dead, just so I can kill you again. He’d do it, too.”

You chuckle at that. “All right. Same to you, Virgil. Take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Virgil mutters, but you know him well enough to hear the smile in his voice. “See you later, Thomas.”

For a moment you get a strong feeling of deja vu. You had a similar conversation with Virgil right before Janus tried to kill you, you realize. Hopefully, that’s not a bad sign.

You shove the thought back down and do your best to smile at your friend.

“See you later, Virge.”

The rest of the test chamber goes by without much issue, as do the next few after that. Remus combines turrets, gels (which he gleefully compares to various... other types of fluids), deadly lasers and Excavation Funnels over bottomless pits with the frenetic glee of a kid at a Christmas party, while you just buckle down and do your best to survive.

It’s when you’ve just started the fourth of these chambers that Janus’ light flickers back to life.

“I think I have a plan,” he says quietly. “I’ll do it when Remus reappears. I’ll just have to be careful- hopefully the amount of power I’m using here is low enough that this won’t get me, too.”

That’s concerning, but Janus’ light goes dark before you can ask any follow-up questions, and you’re too preoccupied with getting through this chamber to dedicate too much brain power to it.

The test involves getting onto a long platform, then redirecting a laser to power it so that it moves to where you need to go. You use the portals to make the laser hit the right sensor and are feeling the pride of a task well done when a grid of deadly lasers suddenly flashes to life, right in the path of your now-moving platform.

You scream, images of hitting the laser field and coming out in pieces entering your head, and frantically shoot a portal to a different location, disconnecting the laser powering your platform and making it stop just as the lasers reach the center of your platform. The laser grid itself disappears when the platform stops, and running on the adrenaline of your near miss you move past the point where the lasers were, then restart the movement and hop off at the appropriate spot.

As soon as your boots hit solid ground you fall to your knees, breathing hard, and focus on getting your heart to stop beating out of your chest. That was a close one- a second later and you would have been filleted. If you had any doubt Remus is trying to kill you, that laser grid got rid of them handedly.

You’re just finishing up the test, still feeling a bit shaky, when Remus reappears on the display screen. “Hey, you did it! And all in one piece, too. Disappointing, but there’s always next chamber.”

Janus’ light flickers back on. “Alright, here goes,” he mutters to you, then yells, “This! Sentence! Is! False! don’tthinkaboutitdon’tthinkaboutitdon’tthinkaboutit-”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Remus says, his body shuddering and wiggling before coming to a rest again. “That was great! Like sticking a fork in an outlet and licking it! Give me another one!”

Janus sputters. “That was a logical paradox! It was supposed to temporarily short your circuits!”

“Aw, Jan,” Remus says, “you of all people should know I’m not a creature of logic. Hey, what about this one: A barber shaves only and all people who don’t shave themselves. Does-”

“Nope, nope, not listening!” Janus shouts, his light turning back off.

Remus cackles. “Ah, that was fun. Anyways, make sure to complete this test quickly, now. I’ve got a little surprise for you in a few chambers- one I’m sure you’ll be just dying to see.”

The screen goes blank, and you look down to see the potato’s light flicker back on.

“Was he… trying to be subtle?” you say.

Janus snorts. “Remus doesn’t do subtle. We’ve got to get out of here before he makes good on it.”

On that, at least, you’re both in agreement.

“Three more chambers until your big surprise,” Remus sing-songs as you enter the next chamber. The chamber has a large ditch in the middle, with a cube bouncing up and down inside it. A launcher panel is positioned in the middle of your current platform, clearly intended for use in reaching the other side.

“We’re running out of time,” Janus says lowly as you approach the launcher panel, trying to eyeball the timing you’ll need to catch the cube. “I think I can break us out of here in the next chamber. Just play along."

You step onto the launcher panel, then cry out as, instead of launching you forwards like expected it sends you careening sideways, the test chamber’s wall folding open to let you through. An excursion funnel catches you mid-flight and begins moving you forwards.

“Surprise!” Remus says. “It’s happening now.”

You look down to see yourself hanging over empty air, the ground too far away to see. Wherever it is you’re going, you don’t seem to have much choice in the matter. So just like always, then.

“I’ve got to hand it to him,” Janus says. “For someone who usually says every little thing that enters his head, that was quite a clever deception.”

“Aw, you flatter me, snakey-pie.”

The excursion funnel pushes you into another launcher, which sends you hurtling sideways with a yelp from both you and Janus. Hurtling towards a small platform, surrounded by giant metal plates. All of which are covered in spikes and poised to slam forwards.

Yeah, this is gonna suck.

[kayteewritessteve]

DT - Twitter Drunk 2/3

Description: One stupid drunken night leads to an uncomfortable week from hell. That only gets worse when you are forced to face the problems, that your drunken escapades caused, head on. Yeah, you are never going to drink ever again.

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 9,250 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG.

Warnings: Lots of curse words, awkward moments, and a slightly frustrated reader. Little angst here and there, but lots of stupid humour.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

Steve’s POV

Steve finds himself seated at the breakfast bar in the towers main living area. Sam and Bucky on either side of him, as they all silently munch away on their individual bowls of cereal.

The tower is relatively quiet this morning, which is both relieving and scary, all at the same time. The tower feels very much like a small child to Steve, when it is eerily quiet, that’s when he truly had to worry. That’s when he should probably go investigate and prepare himself for the incoming chaos that he may find.

Though the fact he can physically see Bucky and Sam currently, does give him some peace of mind. Those two, together, were mayhem and destruction personified. Anytime they were out in the world together, something usually ended up broken. Be it a window, a plate, a car, or Steve’s mental stability.

However, the lack of a Stark currently, in the silence of the tower, was a little unnerving, if he’s being honest. Though at least when Tony was alone, he stuck mainly to only blowing up parts of his lab, or other people’s personal lives. So he didn’t really need as much supervision as the other two did.

But when the three of them were together, now that was another story entirely. They honestly reminded Steve of a show he used to watch as a kid, The Three Stooges. Though they all sort of switched roles, just depending on the day really. However most days Tony was Moe, while Bucky and Sam were Curly and Larry, respectively. But the odd days they’d switch roles, ya know, just to keep things interesting.

Steve sighs quietly to himself at the thought, as he makes a mental note to see if he can track down some of The Three Stooges videos to watch again. He always did enjoy that show—well, that is before he had to basically live it in real life. So yeah, maybe he won’t look those videos up now.

The sound of hasty shuffling feet catches his attention and he looks up just as Moe—excuse me, Tony, enters the kitchen, looking slightly frazzled and far too overly excited for this early on a Saturday morning. Steve internally groans because he knows Stark is about to drop some sort of bomb on them all.

Something clearly happened that Stark finds incredibly funny or worthy of the whole tower knowing right this very second. He is honestly surprised Stark doesn’t just use Friday to play a pre-recorded message throughout the tower so that everyone can learn of the news at the same exact time. That would be far more efficient, if you ask Steve, but does he plan to mention this idea to Stark? Not a hope in hell. That man doesn’t need anymore ideas to help him gossip more quickly and effectively.

No, Steve will just let him continue to work for it. It keeps him busy and less likely to mess with anyone around him, so that’s a small win, in and of itself. Plus he’s pretty sure that Tony truly enjoys actually seeing the looks on peoples faces when he shares his random news with them, so that would probably explain why he does this all in person.

Tony catches sight of the three men and the wicked grin on his face only grows, and this time Steve externally groans.

“There you guys are!” The older man says quickly as he makes his way towards them, “have any of you happened to check out Twitter yet, this lovely morning?”

Steve furrows his brows, yes, he has a Twitter account, but does he actually use it? Hell no. He can barely even figure out what Twitter is for, honestly, let alone how to maneuver the hell site. And anytime he does get on his account, the tweets—what a ridiculous thing to call them—are usually pretty descriptive and very, very highly inappropriate to say to a complete stranger. When Steve had mentioned the aggressive tweets to Sam and Bucky, they had both burst out laughing and when they’d finally managed to reign themselves back in, Sam had told him those were called ‘Thirst Tweets’—Whatever the hell that means.

That was when Steve came to the unwavering realization that Twitter just was not for him. Though Bucky seemed to pick the site up rather quickly, and now he was tweeting with the best of em.

Steve shakes his head at just how stupid those words truly sound. He’ll never fully acclimate to this time, nor the strange and invasive customs, ideologies, and ethics that comes along with it. Don’t get him wrong, this century does have a lot of really amazing features, such as better healthcare, easy access to information, more equality and a larger variety of much, much better tasting foods.

But some days he did miss the simple things from the 40’s. Meeting people in person, going to the movies unbothered, the anonymity that came with a lack of widespread media, and just going out for a drink and some dancing with a good pal or your girl—not that he did a lot of dancing back then, nor did he actually have a girl, but still, life was simpler then, less wasteful and a heck of a lot less superficial.

“No,” Sam answers, and Bucky just shakes his head before following it up with a, “why?”

“Oh, well, then the three of you are truly missing out,” Tony grins widely, his eyes locking with Steves and instantly the latter knows this cannot be good. “Someone wrote a very sweet and long winded Tweet about our little Capsicle here.” He chuckles, gesturing to Steve, and the super soldier is now positive the older man is actually vibrating with excitement currently.

“No way,” Bucky’s eyes grow wide as he quickly pats himself down then pulls his phone from his front pants pocket.

“What does it say?” Sam hastily asks, as he tries to reach across the counter for Tony’s phone. But doesn’t even get close as the billionaire quickly yanks his hand, the one holding said electronic, away from Wilsons reach.

“Simmer for just a moment, my dear Sammy. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, I’m planning to read it out loud for all of you,” he happily says, putting his phone up in front of his face as he clears his throat loudly. Then he begins to read the tweets, raising his voice probably in an attempt to sound more like a woman.

“‘Do you ever just hear of someone in passing, or see them in the media, and have this instantaneous deep longing emotion within you. Not a longing in the sense of wanting them, but entirely due to hoping with everything inside you that they find their true happiness one day..’‘..‪That they wake up in a few years and smile, like truly smile, because they are exactly where they wanted to be. Where they deserved to be. That they’d ended up with every desire they had yearned for. And I’m not talking about material objects. I’m talking life goals and accomplishments..’‬‪‘..I’m talking about the true important aspects of life. The things that actually matter in the grand scheme of it all. Well, that is how I feel whenever someone brings up Steve Rogers. Or whenever I see an article or a news story about him. I instantly have this desperate want for him..’”‬

Sam cuts in, a goofy grin on his lips, “girl, I feel that. I also have a desperate want for Steve whenever I see him.” He turns to playfully wiggle his eyebrows at Steve, while Bucky and Tony burst out laughing. ‬

‪All of this only causing the blonde to shake his head and drag a large hand down his face in exasperation. Knowing instantly that these 3 were never going to let this go, he just silently prayed that no one else in the tower had seen these tweets yet. Don’t get him wrong, they were sweet as hell, and made a slight blush creep its way onto the super soldiers cheeks, but he wasn’t really a huge fan of the spotlight. Never had been, never will be, and this very much put a blinding light smack dab on his face. ‬

‪Tony quickly attempts to steel himself once again, but he can’t stop the chuckles from bubbling out as he continues to read. Every few words a snort or giggle escapes the confines of his lips. “‘..to be happy. *snort* Truly and utterly happy. The man deserves exactly that, and yet so much more. *small giggle* What with everything he has done for us and this planet. *snort* If anyone in this world has earned their happily ever after, *small giggle* it’s that man.’” ‬

‪Steve just groans and lays his forehead against the cold surface of the counter, as the three men continue to laugh boisterously around him. This couldn’t get anymore awkward and embarrassing, and Steve wasn’t even the one who wrote the tweets. ‬

‪“What are we laughing about?” ‬

‪Whelp, obviously Steve spoke too soon, clearly it could get worse. And much, much worse at that. He slowly lifts his head and then promptly drops it back down to the solid surface with a thump. ‬

‪“Oh Nat!” Tony excitedly calls out, “you’re just in time! We were just discussing the most recent fan tweet for ol’ Rogers here.” ‬

‪“Ah yes,” she snorts, “I also truly hope Steve gets every desire he yearns for.” ‬

‪He doesn’t even have to raise his eyes to know she has a playfully quirked brow at the moment. He can just feel it on her, staring smugly at him. ‬

‪“You saw it already?” Bucky chuckles. ‬

‪“Are you kidding? Who hasn’t?” She cackles, her voice sounding much closer now, “I even already retweeted the entire thing.” ‬

‪“Me too!” Tony quickly chimes in, “I had far too much fun responding to that third part.” ‬

‪“Shit, I need to retweet this now too!” Sam adds, and Steve can hear him shuffling around next to him, most likely attempting to find his phone. ‬

‪“Oh, same,” his traitorous best pal says from beside him and Steve’s head snaps up to narrow his eyes at his buddy in outrage. But Bucky just smirks right back, shrugging his shoulders and then focuses on the phone in his hand. ‬

‪Everyone falls silent as they tinker on their phones, Steve getting up to wash his dishes so he can make a hasty exit from the kitchen. But before he can even turn the water on, a low whistle rings through the room, “damn Punk, you gotta see this dame. She’d give Vivien Leigh a run for her money back in our day.”‬

‪That only slightly peeks Steves curiosity, but only slightly—who is he kidding, that’s a complete lie. The truth is, now he really wants to know what she looks like, but he refuses to let any of these dickheads know that. He’s always had a wee bit of a crush on Vivien Leigh, ever since he’d seen Gone With The Wind. But he ignores Bucky’s obvious use of Vivien to entice him, and instead just nods nonchalantly as he continues to wash his dishes, “I’m sure she would.” ‬

‪“Tin Man’s right,” Sam starts, “this woman is insanely attractive. Steve, man, you gotta check her out,” and just as his friend finishes his words, the unmistakable sound of a stool being pushed back echoes through the room. ‬

‪Steve just hums as he quickly dries his bowl and spoon, before putting them away, “maybe later, Sam. I ah,” he scrunches up his face, which luckily no one can see as he is still facing the cupboards. “I have something I need to attend to at the moment.” Yeah, that didn’t sound convincing or truthful at all. But he doesn’t give anyone a chance to retort as he makes a beeline out of the kitchen. ‬

‪Though he doesn’t miss Bucky playfully yelling, “yeah, I’m sure you do.” And the hidden meaning of those words makes Steve shake his head, and flush just a little as he hastily makes his way down the hallway. Clearly his lifelong best friend knows him far too well, and is more than aware that Steve is sneaking off to both avoid this conversation and privately creep this sweet tweeting woman. ‬

‪Which again those words sound utterly and completely ridiculous to Steve. ‬

‪It had been a couple of days since Tony had come barreling into the kitchen, and since then Steve’s Twitter app had been taking a damn beating. ‬

‪Not in the sense that he’d started posting more, but in the sense that he’d been going on it more. He’d actually asked Bruce that Saturday afternoon if he could walk Steve through how to maneuver the hell site a little better. Figuring Bruce would be the least likely to judge or mock Steve for the request. Nor would Bruce tell the others that Steve had asked, as if they all learned of this, they’d know exactly what he was up to, and why he wanted to know how to use the app. ‬

‪When he’d arrived back to his room after promptly fleeing the kitchen and his overzealous friends, he’d opened the app and tracked down the famous tweets. Which honestly wasn’t hard at all, as damn near everyone Sam had set up for Steve to follow had retweeted the posts by this point. So they were basically his entire main page. ‬

‪He’d clicked around for a bit, until he managed to finally end up on her—Y/N’s page. And then opened her picture only to abruptly drop his phone. Though luckily for the tiny electronic, it never actually met the ground, all thanks to his ridiculously fast reflexes. ‬

‪He’d then just stood there, awkwardly wide eyed and staring at her picture. Because shit, Bucky wasn’t lyin’. She did give Vivien a run for her money. She was stunning, and upon scrolling through her page and reading her other posts, he learned she wasn’t just beautiful on the outside. ‬

‪He’d then noticed a few retweets from some girl named Lindsey, figuring that must be a friend of hers, he opened her page. Instantly noticing a string of retweets of Y/N’s original lengthy post, and jokingly commenting about ‘how much did you drink last night, girl?!’ Though in a lot more words than just that, he was paraphrasing her friends actual response here. ‬

‪And that’s how Steve figured out that obviously when Y/N drank, she wrote sweet and thoughtful messages to and about complete strangers, people she idolized or looked up to, or just plain admired—which yeah, that wasn’t really normal. But in all the best ways. Most people who tweeted him were vulgar and far too descriptive. He honestly didn’t get many heartwarming messages from the public, so these words really stuck with him. They brought a smile to his face. ‬

‪And on top of all of that, she’d been drinking. And most of the drunk people he’d ever encountered were all either loud, rude, belligerent or far too flirty. Booze giving people the liquid courage to say the things they’d never voice sober. Liquor basically heightened a person's internal personalities, which wasn’t always a good thing for some. So the fact that she was so damn sweet when intoxicated, only stood to reason that her sober was probably a true sweetheart, through and through. ‬

‪Which all only made Steve yearn to actually meet the woman behind these thoughtful words. Though he knew that would never actually happen, because reaching out to her now would be weird, wouldn’t it? ‬

‪I mean, would she even want to hear from him? Would she even be interested in possibly meeting him? Would she even respond to a message from him? From the looks of it, she hadn’t posted anything since that night, so maybe she was avoiding her social media at the moment. Maybe she just wanted this all to blow over, and maybe Steve should want that too. Maybe he should just let this all rest, and continue on with his life as normal. ‬

‪It’s not like they’d meet and fall madly in love instantly, or end up becoming something more than that. It’s not like him just letting this whole situation blow over would really affect him all that much, right? Maybe she only felt that way about him because she’d been drinking. What if sober, she had completely differing opinions of him. ‬

‪Yeah, that’s very unlikely, he knows that. But truthfully, Steve was ridiculously nervous at even the thought of interacting with her. I mean, he never really had ‘game with the ladies’, as Sam had put it. And he’d never even really entertained the idea of meeting someone, or dating someone, since he’d woken up from the ice. He’d just focused himself and his mind on his job, and didn’t even allow any hopes of love or a relationship to infiltrate his head. Because he knew once he really, truly thought about it or gave it any weight in his mind, that he’d come to the unwaveringly obvious realization that he was alone. That he was lonely and wanted more than anything to have someone special in his life. Someone who saw him for him, for Steve Rogers the man, and not Captain America the legend. ‬

‪But now all of this had crashed those very thoughts that he’d avoided for so long into his head, like a dang freight train slamming into a car stuck on the tracks. And now all he could think about was how desperately he wanted a person, a gal to call his own. Someone to go to bed beside every night, and wake up wrapped around every morning. A woman to share his free time with, to tell about his days, his stresses, his accomplishments and goals. And have her do the same in return. ‬

‪But even with that all bouncing around in his head, he was scared. Truly and entirely terrified. Because with opening yourself up to another, giving love a shot and taking the leap to see where it goes, came the potential of heartbreak. Came the possibility of ending up hurt and even more alone, if it all fell apart in the end. ‬

‪And yeah, you can’t have true happiness without taking a chance on it. You can’t succeed without first trying. But Steve had struggled his entire life, he’d fought to get where he is today, he’d sacrificed so much of himself and his life to get where he is now. To be at the place he is now, and even though being alone was a sore spot for him, his heart wasn’t tattered. It was fully intact again, and he really just wanted it to stay that way. ‬

‪He’d finally reached a place where he was actually content with his life, where he was proud of who he was and how far he’d come. And he refused to mess with the happy balance he’d found now. ‬

‪Was that a foolish choice for him to make? Oh definitely. But was he going to just continue to be stubborn and pretend like he was truly happy in this moment? Hell fucking yes.‬

‪Steve was ridiculously stubborn, and he fully knew it, and owned it, 100%. ‬

‪Steve walks into the kitchen to grab a midday sneak before heading back to hide in his room. And the second his eyes land on the current occupants of the space he almost groans loudly. ‬

‪Tony, Nat, Sam and Bucky are all lingering around the kitchen island, talking about what Steve can only assume is his personal life. Or rather, the lack thereof. ‬

‪There are only two days left until the press release and Steve has been basically avoiding his friends for the last 2 days. Ever since Tony cornered him in the gym trying to give him the full run down on Y/N. Where she worked, where she’d gone to school, where she’d been born and raised, everything.

‪All things Steve honestly had no business learning from the billionaire. Who had actually proudly admitted to doing a full background check on the woman, as if that was normal to do at a complete stranger. Steve had instantly scolded the man, citing that it was only ridiculously intrusive and unacceptable to creep into someone's personal life like that. Especially someone who none of the team actually knew. ‬

‪She wasn’t some criminal set on world destruction, nor was she a person of interest to the team in regards to a mission. She was a civilian, a regular person, and she didn’t deserve having her entire life picked apart and invaded like that. She deserved her privacy. ‬

‪Tony had then tried to talk Steve into contacting her, even just a small message to her Twitter account to thank her, or something of the like. But Steve wasn’t interested, he was still happily stubborn and pretending to be ignorant to the longing feelings within him when it came to Y/N. Because honestly, he didn’t know her through a dang hole in the ground, let alone should he be feeling this way about a woman he’s never even met, let alone spoken to. This was outrageous, these strange feelings were ludicrous. ‬

‪So no, he doesn’t feel anything towards her. And yeah, he knows wholeheartedly that that’s a blatant lie, but shoot him for trying to think rationally here. For trying to be logical to the fact that one shouldn’t feel this strongly for a damn stranger. So, by day he’ll just continue to fake that he isn’t interested. That he hasn’t checked out her account or photos, that he hadn’t been day dreaming about meeting her. He’ll just continue to pretend like he wants no part of this in front of the whole team. ‬

‪But then by night he’ll check out her twitter, like every night since she’d posted, and wonder what she’s like in person. Wonder if she’s easy to talk to, if her laugh is infectious, if her smile is like the sun, if her mere presence alone is truly calming. ‬

‪She still hadn’t posted a damn thing since the famous tweets, so clearly she was avoiding her social media. She hadn’t even retweeted a single response, nor deleted the original posts. It was like her account was completely frozen in time—pun not intended. ‬

‪Tony had just stood there, continuing to pester Steve about Y/N, up until Steve had opted to completely ignore the man entirely. After he’d stopped responding, Tony had finally dropped the topic and left, but not before vowing to get Steve on board with this ‘operation get Rogers a date’ mission, as the billionaire had hilariously nicknamed it—Note the sarcasm. ‬

‪And once Tony had left the gym, and the door slamming shut had confirmed he was truly gone, Steve had glanced over his shoulder to fully affirm he’d left. And instantly noticed the manila folder sitting on a bench where Tony had been standing. And it didn’t take a rocket doctor to figure out what was in that folder. No, Steve was instantly aware it was most likely a full and complete write up on Y/N. ‬

‪He chose to ignore the folder, or at least he’d put in a solid effort to ignore it. But after a little while—read, literally 2 minutes—Steve finally caved and hesitantly walked towards the folder, wiping his sweaty hands on the towel he’d kept over his shoulder. And once he reached the folder, he glanced around as if to double check there was no one watching or present to witness his next move. ‬

‪Then he gingerly scooped up the folder, staring at the outside for a moment before taking a deep breath in and opening it up. To only be instantly met with a stunning photo of Y/N, that adruptly confirms his earlier thought, her smile is like the sun. ‬

‪And as he delves into every fact and detail about her, all the things Tony had managed to dig up about the woman, the irony is not lost on him. He’d literally just chastised Tony for invading her privacy, and yet, here he was, doing the exact same thing. Lapping up every little detail he could about her. ‬

‪At least Tony had invaded her privacy for semi honourable reasons, he’d only done it to help a friend out. Where as Steve was doing it entirely for selfish reasons. His desperate need to know everything about her, yet being entirely too petrified to actually reach out to the woman, to just speak to her. To give himself the chance to learn all of these things about her, from her, as was the way it should have been. ‬

‪The only thought running through his mind at that point was: What an utter schmuck he’d truly turned out to be. ‬

‪Back in the present, he halts his steps and honestly contemplates if he should slowly back out of the kitchen, before anyone even notices him. But he never gets that chance as 4 sets of eyes snap up to land on him, and he knows escaping now unscathed is highly unlikely. ‬

‪So with a deep breath in, he enters the lions den, entirely prepared for the razzing and ridicule he was about to endure from his, so called, best friends. As they continued to chide him for having not made a move yet, as they continued to inform him that they were displeased with his lack of action in all of this. ‬

‪And as they kept reminding him of what happened the last time he’d waited too long with a gal, and yeah, those comments cut deep. But only because he knew they were entirely accurate, and that’s why they truly cut as deep as they did. He was well aware of his shortcomings in the romance department, but did that stop him from stubbornly pretending like his friends were entirely wrong? Of fucking course not. ‬

‪Because Steve Rogers was thee most stubborn man on the planet, and he was entirely proud of that simple fact. ‬

‪He’s standing on stage, Tony droning on and on about God knows what. Steve had tuned out a while ago, his mind still all over the place. Still focused on entirely different things than the current topic of the day. He should be focused on the facility's grand opening, and Tony’s eloquently chosen words, but yet again, for the millionth time this week, his thoughts are on Y/N. The woman he feels like he knows damn near entirely at this point, yet has never once laid eyes on. Not even so much as seen a glimpse of in real life. ‬

‪And how truly creepy does he sound right now? This was some next level stalker behaviour, as Sam would call it, and he freaking knows it. God, did he know it. ‬

‪Bucky’s elbow making direct contact with Steve’s left side ribs, jars him painfully from his reverie. He manages to only wince slightly at the forceful hit before snapping his eyes at his best pal—who may lose that title soon if he isn’t careful—and glaring at him. ‬

‪Bucky just grins and leans in towards Steve, as he whispers, “don’t look now, Punk, but it appears a little Tweety Bird is in attendance with us today.” Then the brunette nods his head in a direction towards the back of the audience. And yes, Steve is well aware of who he is referring to, as Tweety Bird is the name his ‘friends’ had been using to refer to Y/N as all week. And don’t even get him started on how much that nickname truly irked—‬

‪Hold up. Wait a tick. What did Buck just say? ‬

‪Steve's eyes quickly scan the crowd before landing on her near the back. And God, he couldn’t have missed her beautiful face even if he’d tried. He honestly isn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed her before. His super soldier eyes clearly need to be checked as they so obviously missed the stunning woman hidden in the masses. ‬

‪He finds himself completely and totally trapped in her stare. His eyes locked onto hers as if they were high powered magnets, and not even his super strength could pull them apart now. He is just about to break out into a huge grin, just at the fact he actually got to finally see her in the flesh, but then his mind catches up to the moment. ‬

‪And wait, wait, why is she even here to begin with? ‬

He snaps his eyes to his possible ex-best pal, and narrows them accusingly. If Bucky is behind this, he can kiss his best friend title goodbye. And Steve will happily inform him that Sam has taken up that position now, just to be as petty and childish as he possibly can.

But all he receives in return is a wicked grin from Bucky, as he nods his head towards Tony. And just like that, Steve flicks his intense gaze at the billionaire in question. Wishing in this moment that looks could kill, that he had that super power. Because if they could, if he did, Tony would be laying on the floor right now. But luckily for the smaller man, he doesn’t have that ability, though Tony will wish for a quick death once Steve gets his hands on him.

Once this is all over, and everyone leaves so there are no witnesses, Tony will get what’s coming to him. Mark his words, Tony Stark will learn a valuable lesson tonight—

Movement catches his attention and he flicks his eyes back to see Y/N hastily packing up her things. Wait, she isn’t leaving yet, is she? The press release isn’t even halfway done yet. She can’t just leave, not before he has a chance to actually speak to her. To actually, finally, interact with her. She is here after all, he’d be an idiot if he didn’t use this to his advantage now.

Maybe Tony will be safe after all. He did sort of give Steve this opportunity after all. Maybe Tony’s meddling wasn’t entirely bad this time. Though he would still need a stern talking to about interfering with other people's lives.

Her eyes lock back on Steves and he can see the tears pooling in them now. His perfect eyesight honing in on them, and his heart feels like it’s about to break. She’s tearing up? Why is she tearing up? He sees a tear slip down her cheek as she quickly wipes it away just as she turns and hastily heads for the exit.

And watching her retreating form snaps something in Steve—well that and another well positioned elbow jab from Bucky. As if trying to break Steve out of his head, while also urging him to do something.

Steve shakes his head and then quickly makes his way to the edge of the platform, jumping off it and landing gracefully on his feet before taking off at full speed after her.

Members of the press moving out of his way, and snapping photos as he runs passed. But he isn’t focused on any of that currently, he just needs to reach her, to stop her from leaving just yet. He just wants to meet her, to talk to her in person.

He vaguely hears Tony trying to wrangle in the press, trying to regain their attention as he makes up some excuse for Steve's abrupt exit. He’s guessing Tony saw her leave just like Steve and Bucky had.

He stops when he reaches the first road, and glances around, quickly pinpointing her form hastily walking towards the main road. Her head down as she goes and he begins to jog after her and once he gets close enough he calls out, “Hey, hold up.”

He watches as her steps falter and then stop entirely, her shoulders deflating slightly as her arms rise up a little. Though he can’t make out exactly what her hands are doing currently, but a gut wrenching thought tells him she is probably wiping away more tears. However then she slowly turns to face him, keeping her eyes down as if the ground is the most fascinating thing she’s ever encountered.

And all he wants is for her to glance up, to look at him, to allow him to finally truly take her in. He desperately wants that, he is about to beg her for it honestly. But he is so tongue tied in this moment, he can’t even think of a single word to say. Nor is he sure his voice will even work at the moment.

After a moment though, it appears she’s managed to locate her voice. But she still keeps her eyes down, even as she speaks, and her voice is nothing like he’d imagined it would be. It’s way prettier sounding then his mind could have ever conjured up.

“I um, I’m really, really sorry,” she starts and then clears her throat, “I shouldn’t have come here today. I ah, I didn’t want to ever make you feel uncomfortable in any way. And I guess I just need to apologize to you for my ridiculous antics last week. And ah, and for stupidly agreeing to come to this junket. I’ll just um,” she glances over your shoulder momentarily, as if looking for an escape. “I’ll just be going now,” she quickly says as her eyes finally meet his. And he is instantly aware that she has been crying, confirming his earlier worries. She gestures with her thumb over her shoulder as she takes a small step back. “Sorry again, for um, for everything.”

Their direct eye contact momentarily stuns him, so much so that he had yet to fully comprehend her words. He is just happily lost in this moment, hoping it doesn’t actually ever end.

But then it does, and he is instantly thrusted back into the here and now when she turns and quickly continues down the road. Hastily moving away from him yet again. And fuck that if he is going to let her get away now. Not yet at least.

He quickly catches up to her, softly saying, “wait,” as he gently grasps her elbow in the hopes she’ll turn back around.

She takes a deep breath and then turns to face him again, just as he’d hoped and he quickly, be it reluctantly, removes his hand from her skin. Their eyes connecting once again. And shit, what does he do or say now?

Before he can even realize what he’s doing, his hand rises up to rub the back of his neck as he rips through a bunch of different thoughts as to just how he should proceed here. What he should say to her now.

“I ah, I wasn’t—“ he pauses realizing his mistake then quickly corrects himself, “I’m not uncomfortable about you being here,” he shakes his head, “not at all. I just—firstly, I just wanted to apologize to you, actually. I know they probably forced you to be here today, I don’t really know how, but judging by your reaction to all of this, I’m guessing you really had no say in being here.“ He sighs deeply, “I had no idea that they’d actually invited you, so I can only assume that Tony played a huge hand in all of this. He really likes to insert himself in other people's lives, so I apologize that you got dragged into this. He doesn’t really know when to butt out.”

She nod slowly as her eyes flick down to the ground again, “it’s okay. You really don’t owe me anything, I honestly brought this all on myself. I um, I don’t blame anyone else for any of this, but thank you for saying all of that.” She looks back up at him, “it really helps to hear. This week has just been—“ she halts her words and sighs deeply as she waves a hand around. “Sorry, that’s really not important. Um, just basically thank you, ya know, for easing my mind with all of this.”

He can’t help the frown that forms on his lips, she honestly believes that anything she has to say isn’t important? God how wrong she is, he’d enjoy nothing more than to hear her talk for hours. Even about absolutely nothing. And God, he really shouldn’t be this damn smitten with her already. He shouldn’t be feeling this damn connected to her already. He’s doomed, but yet, he honestly has no issues with that fact. He quickly wipes the frown from his lips and shakes his head, “don’t mention it, but I should really be the one thanking you.”

Her eyes instantly widen, and it takes everything in Steve not to chuckle at the shocked look now on her face. Her eyebrows slowly crinkle in the most adorable way, as her mouth hangs open just slightly. It’s honestly the cutest damn thing he’s ever seen. And he’s seen a lot in his time.

And then she seems to pull herself back together, “I’m sorry if this is rude, but um, why exactly would you owe me a thank you?”

He can’t help the stupid smile that forms as he tries to hide it by glancing over his shoulder to ensure that no one had followed them. Mainly anyone from his team, if he’s being honest. The press following him is nowhere near as much of a possibility as his fellow Avengers, and also nowhere near as embarrassing.

Seeing that luckily no one has, he comes up with a quick plan to ensure that they aren’t bothered or overheard. “I’ll explain all that, but first, can I show you something?”

She nods quickly, “um, yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, great. Just uh, just follow me then,” he quickly says before he starts to lead them both towards the spot he’d decided would be the best choice for privacy. And to ensure no one overhears either of them.

Reader’s POV.

You fall into step with the giant man, curious where exactly he is leading you to. He hasn’t said anything since you both began walking and you honestly have no idea what to even say to him. The silence isn’t too bad, though that’s honestly a lie, the silence is actually extremely awkward.

You have no idea what he still has to say to you, nor where your currently heading towards, nor what he feels about all of this. I mean, yeah, he said he wanted to thank you, but for what exactly? You have no fucking clue. And shit yeah, that’s a little unsettling, if you’re being honest.

Your hands start to clam up again, as you keep your eyes down, watching your steps to ensure you don’t eat it. Because that would just be so magical if you did biff it right now. Ya know, in front of Steve Rogers and all.

He’d probably think you were just a ridiculous klutz, or an accident prone nincompoop. But really, you just aren’t the best on heels, and as you both have now left the glorious cement behind and are trekking it through the compound’s vast green space, falling is a very real possibility. You hoofing it through the dang wilderness now, as if you’re some seasoned hiker on a nice, scenic Sunday adventure, instead of a small, sightly out of shape, journalist in high ass heels.

You stealthily side eye your adventure buddy and wonder if he’d give you a piggyback ride. I mean, that’s a ridiculous thought, but like, would he though? Ya know, if you asked really nicely and remembered to use your manners? He is rumoured to have insane strength, so he could probably easily chuck you over his shoulder, as if you weighed nothing at all.

Oh God, why do you now want nothing more in this life, than to be slung over Steve Rogers shoulder like he’s some damn caveman. Shit, yeah, that’d be hot for sure.

You shake your head and stifle the laugh that wants to bubble out of you, as you focus back on the ground ahead of you. What a ridiculous person you truly are. Who even thinks something like that about a complete stranger, let alone Steve Rogers—Though, come to think of it, probably a lot of people think things like that about him.

Once again you feel a large warm hand on your elbow and you halt your steps to glance up at him, curious what’s happening. Oh shit, what if he can like, read minds or something, and just no one actually knows about that enhancement of his? Fuck, please God say he can’t.

Though let’s just test that theory, ya know, just to be sure. Hello? Steve? You there? If you are, fyi, my favourite number is 9. And I think you have a fantastic ass—shit, just ignore that last part—

“We’re here,” he says quietly, and his hesitant expression leads you to believe that he can’t, in fact, hear your thoughts. And thank fuck for that.

You nod—no clue why you do, you just do. And then quickly glance around at your surroundings, only to then have your mouth fall open at the beautiful sight before you.

You hadn’t even noticed where you’d ended up until this exact moment. You are standing on the edge of a large body of water, and with a quick glance over your shoulder you realize you are surrounded by trees. The facilities buildings no longer even in sight, and it fells like you are in the middle of nowhere, like there isn’t a single soul around.

Your eyes slowly slip back up to meet the large blondes piercing blue ones, a smile on your lips. “This please is beautiful,” you whisper before your eyes drift back to the water ahead of you. “It’s so peaceful here.”

“Yeah,” he sighs deeply, “it is. It’s ah, it’s one of my favourite spots on the compound to escape to. Ya know, when I just need a moment alone, or some time to think.”

You side eye him again, seeing him just staring out at the water now, and then your eyes drift back to the water as well. “I can totally understand why, it’s so quiet,” you whisper, as if speaking too loud will ruin the tranquility of the location. “Thank you,” you glance back at him, his eyes on you now. “For showing this place to me, for sharing your secret spot with me. I honestly needed a peaceful moment like this,” you sigh, “it’s just been such a long and gruelling week. So, seriously, thank you.”

He nods, “I’m sorry to hear your week hasn’t been very good. Is there anything I can help with?”

“No,” you shake your head, but then halt the action as a thought crosses your mind. “Unless you happen to have access to a time machine?” You ask playfully.

He chuckles, “I do actually, but why do you need a time machine?”

“Just so I can fix a few mistakes from my past,” you nonchalantly answer, but then his words fully sink in and your eyes widen once again. “Wait, actually?”

“Yeah, actually,” he grins as he brings his index finger up to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion. “But that’s just between us, no one actually knows that we have one.”

“Damn,” you mutter as you glance back out at the water. “And here I thought self driving cars were insanely futuristic. But a time machine blows that out of the dang water.” You quickly shake your head, looking back up at him, “sorry, yes, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell a soul.”

He just smiles down at you, “perfect.”

A few moments of silence go by as you both just enjoy the comfortable moment, just standing quietly at the waters edge. As if time has come to a complete stand still, and no one else exists in the world. But then your mind reminds you of the real reason he brought you here, and your curiosity won’t allow you to stay silent any longer. “Um, I believe you wanted to tell me something,” you turn to face him, giving him your full attention.

“Right, right,” one of his large hands comes up to rub the back of his neck again. “I ah, I just wanted to thank you. Ya know, for all the kind things you said about me. Honestly, it was really refreshing to have someone say all of that to me. I’m not really used to people caring that much about me—“ he shakes his head, “no, that’s not the right wording, I mean more, the sentiments behind your words. Lots of people idolize Captain America, they wish him the best, but not a lot of people actually acknowledge me, Steve Rogers, as a person. So it meant so much to me that you were talking about me, the guy from Brooklyn, and not the hero persona I live in the shadow of every day.”

Before you can think better of it, you reach out to gently lay your hand on his forearm. And yeah, you have to force yourself to ignore the instant tingles and warmth that floods your system, just from merely touching him. This is not the time to perv out.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. You truly deserve so much better than that, and I apologize on behalf of my generation for making you feel less important than the Captain. Because honestly, that couldn’t be further from the truth. There would be no Captain America without there first being a Steve Rogers.” You remove your hand from his arm, “and furthermore, Steve can and will live on without the Captain, but the Captain cannot live on without Steve. It’s impossible, he does not exist without you.”

He just stares at you, silently, as his face holds an unreadable expression.

Feeling like you might have overstepped or said too much, you quickly shake your head, “I’m sorry, ignore me, I’m totally rambling again.”

“No,” he shakes his head now, as if snapping out of it, “please don’t apologize, I was honestly just a little caught off guard by all that you’d said—in all the best ways, I promise.” He smiles, “I can’t even begin to explain how truly amazing it is to actually hear someone say that. After all these years. It’s just,” he sighs contently, “it’s just really nice to hear, is all.”

You smile up at him, glad your rambling meant so much to him. He deserves to hear these things, and you believe every word you’ve said wholeheartedly. You wouldn’t have said them if you hadn’t. You may be a lot of things, but a liar or a fraud weren’t one of them. If you deeply believed something as true, you always voiced those thoughts. “I’m so glad to hear that,” you say quietly as you turn to face the water one last time. “I guess we should probably get back. Ya know, before someone comes looking for you,” you glance up at him and smirk. Knowing full well that no one is missing you currently, but you can only assume Steves absence hasn’t gone unnoticed by his team members, nor the press.

And honestly, you don’t need anymore gas thrown on the raging fire that is your life currently. The press would have a damn field day if they caught wind that you two were hiding out in some secret place, alone—Oh God, just imagine the headlines for that.

He sighs, nodding, “you’re probably right.”

Then with a final glance at your surrounds you both head back, you pull out your phone along the way to finish ordering your Uber. Because you refuse to walk back into the conference, side by side with Steve. It’s probably just best if you leave now, before anyone clues in that you both were together this whole time.

You reach the road again, and luckily managed to not fall or break a heel. Which is honestly a feat in and of itself. You’d have to put ‘skilled heel hiker’ on your resume once you got home. Because honestly, that was something any future employer of yours should really know, and appreciate.

You stop walking and Steve notices instantly, turning to look back at you, his brows furrowed in the cutest way. You have to stop yourself from reaching up to smooth out the lines, because it’s weird to touch strangers, right? Yeah, yeah, it’s weird.

“I’m going to head out, I’m sure I’ve missed the entire last part of the conference by now, and I kind of want to beat the rush of exiting press,” you say, which is all true, you just might have also strategically left out the main reason as to why you’ve chosen to leave early.

He nods, “ah, yeah, that’s a good point.”

You smile up at the beautiful man one last time, you’re not entirely sure if you’ll ever see him again, so you take a moment to memorize his features. Ya know, so you can happily and accurately daydream about him later. But then the sound of an approaching car hits your ears and you glance to see your Uber pulling up and—shit. Of course he would have the fastest response time of any Uber driver in history. Because yeah, clearly you aren’t supposed to spend anymore time with this amazing human. That’s just your damn luck.

You turn back to him, and saying goodbye now honestly sucks, but you both have lives to get back to. “Thank you again for showing me your spot, Steve. And for just taking the time to talk to me, it made my whole week so much better,” you smile as the car pulls up beside you both. The driver quickly confirming you are who he is picking up.

“No worries at all,” he smiles back, “it made mine as well.”

Your smiles grows at his words and you reluctantly force yourself into the car, waving as it pulls away.

And as it makes its way down the road, you slump back into your seat, releasing a deep breath. This afternoon will forever live on in your head; the day you met Steve Rogers in the flesh. It will, from this moment on, be your all time favourite memory, hands down.

Steve’s POV

Steve stealthily makes his way back to the compound, rejoining the touring group as his teammates show the press around the main areas of the facility. He falls into step next to Buck, who is lingering near the back to ensure no press members sneak off or get lost.

“So,” Bucky pipes up quietly after a few moments of them just silently walking side by side. Not even turning to look at Steve, and instead keeping his eyes fixed ahead of them both. “How was it? Did you manage to catch her?”

Steve smiles widely, he couldn’t prevent it even if he’d tried. “Amazing, Buck. I did catch her, and she’s just,” he pauses, no words really holding enough meaning to describe Y/N. “she’s amazing, in so many ways,” he finally finishes, even though the word he’s picked really doesn’t do her justice.

Bucky grins widely, “so, when do you see her next?”

And Steves steps falter just slightly at his pals words.

Bucky stops walking altogether, gaping at Steve. “Punk,” he says slowly, “please tell me you got her number?”

“Shit,” Steve cringes as he stops walking as well, he knew he was forgetting something. He then sighs loudly as he drops his head forward. “I totally forgot.”

Bucky groans loudly, “Punk, we talked about this! Rule numero uno, always get the cute girls number!”

Reader’s POV.

You’re sitting at your dining room table, laptop in front of you as you slowly work on the Avengers article for your boss. You had luckily gotten a bunch of photos and recorded most of the conference, so you have more than enough to work with. Which, thank fuck for that. You really need to keep your job, at least for now, at least until you can secure something better.

Your phone starts to ring and you glance over at where it currently sits on the table beside your laptop. You pick it up and see it’s an unknown number—which yeah, that’s a little odd.

You hesitantly answer, unsure who it could be, “hello.” But then there is no response, you pull the phone away from your ear to see if the call is still active, and it is. You put it back to your ear, “hello?”

“Uh, yeah, hi, sorry. Is this—is this Y/N?”

“It is, may I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s um, it’s Steve,” he says and instantly you almost gasp because how did he— “Steve Rogers,” he quickly clarifies, as if you wouldn’t have figured that out already.

You giggle, because this man is just far too adorable for words. “Hi Steve, how are you?”

“I’m good, I hope you don’t mind that I’m calling you. I was going to message you on Twitter but I honestly couldn’t figure out how to do that. And I’m not really any good at texting, so a phone call just seemed like the best option.”

You smile widely, barely containing your laughter at how flustered he sounds. “I don’t mind at all, it’s so nice to hear from you. Though I am a little curious how you even got my number.”

“I ah, I sort of had Tony look it up for me.”

And that does cause you to laugh, “I should have guessed. So, what can I do for you, Steve? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. I just,” he takes a deep breath, and now you swear you can hear voices in the background, you just can’t make out what any of them are saying. A scratchy sound rings through the phone, as if the mic is being covered by something and then you hear a louder muffled voice now, but still can’t make it out. However then the scratchy sound stops and Steve speaks up again, “I ah, I was just curious if you’d be interested in maybe going out to dinner with me sometime this week? I mean, ya know, if you’d be interested in that,” he pauses for a second then quickly adds, “Did I already say that?”

You hold back the excited giggles that want to break from your lips, he is clearly flustered by this and the very last thing you’d ever want to do is make this worse for him. Or to hurt his feelings by laughing at him putting himself on the line like this. Asking someone out is nerve wracking enough in this day and age, let alone when they laugh in your face—or over the phone—directly after you ask.

“I’d love that, Steve. Which day did you have in mind?”

“Friday?”

“Friday is perfect,” you grin widely, then you quickly exchange details and give him your address as he insists on picking you up. You both then say your goodbyes and hang up. And the second you put your phone back on the table, you squeal loudly.

You have a date with Steve Rogers in 5 short days, and you honestly couldn’t be more excited for it. And this all came to pass because you’d been on Twitter Drunk. Who would have ever seen this insane turn of events coming. You certainly wouldn’t have.

And shit, what is Lindsey going to say about all of this? Oh God, when she finds out she's going to just die. You pick up your phone and dial the familiar number, knowing that she’ll be pissed if you don’t tell her right away, or if she hears it from anywhere else other than you.

“Hey Y/N,” her chipper voice plays through your phones speaker.

“Linds, you’ll never guess who I have a date with on Friday. But you have to promise you won’t tell a soul, or so help me God, I will disown you!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

@caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @starstucknature @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @ivoryhazlewood @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @jasminecalia @secondstar2disney @jessiedaeum @betsynodak @capricornprince118 @just-ladyme @pinkleopardss @drayshadow @sister-of-stars @wiserebelpartypie

[roborights]

RULES:  List five tropes applicable to your character, then tag others to do the same. (Tropes Wiki)  REPOST! DO NOT REBLOG.

Tagged by: shhhhhhh Tagging: anyone who wants to do it!

RIDICULOUSLY HUMAN ROBOT - Robots in television — particularly comedic television — are usually human-like in ways that very few sane programmers would deem useful. It can be something as simple as being philosophical (wanting to understand human emotion, wondering if they have a soul, etc.), but can extend to such things as robot social cliques, robot food, robot entertainment, robot religion, and even robot sex. It doesn't matter if it makes no sense in the context of a mechanical servant, or even if it's truly undesirable, the designers have put it in there for some twisted reason. This will often take the form of having a robot that looks exactly like a human. The degree to which this is actually "ridiculous" varies depending on the setting. In some cases they get a free pass — it may be that an intelligence, artificial or not, needs to be vaguely human-like in its basic outlines, with emotions, interests, motivations, et cetera simply to be functional for certain tasks, such as those requiring a great deal of long-term autonomy. On the other hand, perhaps humans prefer Sexbots not to behave like automated teller machines. It may be, if human intelligence itself is merely an evolved set of functions held together in an evolved psychological architecture, that any society with sufficiently ubiquitous and flexible automation will necessarily have the means to produce something human-like, or it may simply be that emotions, desires, and curiosity are unavoidable side-effects of full sentience. Whatever serves the needs of the well-reasoned plot or setting. In these cases, Ridiculously Human Robots make sense. Also, a few illogical design choices are a small price to pay for keeping robotic characters out of the Uncanny Valley. However, it's rare that a series explicitly spells this out, and often, these human-like AIs are put right up next to similar, yet emotionless equivalents that function perfectly.

PEOPLE PUPPETS - Not Mind Control - body control! Some guys just feel the need to be in control... of everything. Including you. No, not with possession, not through manipulation; we mean literally controlling your body, forcing you to move as he wishes, and turning you into his personal People Puppets. Such a character, usually a villain, can control his victims' limbs as if they were marionettes on a set of strings. Sometimes he'll actually have a puppet-theme, and many a Demonic Dummy has powers like this to play on the irony of a person being puppet-ed by the puppets; but other times a character just happens to have this ability along with related Psychic Powers. In either case, those controlled will often move in Marionette Motion. Either way, he can manipulate others' bodies while they're still in 'em, much to his victims' dismay... as said victims are usually conscious, confused, and complaining (sometimes loudly, to inform allies — and the audience — that "I ...can't... control my... body!") Or maybe they Can Only Move the Eyes. Most times, they haven't been Brainwashed or anything, as they're protesting mightily — it's just that there's not much they can do about it. For some reason, many character's mouths seem to be immune to this, as they will often protest whatever it is that they're being made to do. This may be related to Voices Are Mental.

NEW POWERS AS THE PLOT DEMANDS - Some superhero comics authors seem to get bored of the same old powers. They add new ones to the same characters whenever they feel that a new power would open up a new story, or a new danger needs a new response, or what the hell, whenever they feel like it. Sometimes a retcon, a power upgrade or some bit of Phlebotinum is employed to explain the new power, but often the character just does something they've never done before and when their friends say, "I didn't know you could do that!", they come back with either "I've never needed to, till now," or worse, "Neither did I!" Generally speaking, this trope is far more forgivable earlier in the story — with a character who has only recently been empowered and is fully justified in not knowing what he can do. Likewise, "neither did I until now" in an experienced character can be reasonable, if it's happening in some circumstance or special condition that the character has never encountered before.However, this is sometimes employed as a form of Deus ex Machina — having written themselves into a corner with a villain or situation that's too overwhelming for our heroes to handle with the tools they've been given, the writer decides to have the hero instantaneously learn the one ability he needs to save the day or bring a character Back from the Dead. Frequently, without any form of Foreshadowing to suggest that he or she can do that. It gets worse if they conveniently forget this ability when it would come in handy in a later situation. This is often the case with a Mary Sue/Marty Stu.

HOPE BRINGER - We have two sides of a conflict - The Empire is opposed by La Résistance or just common folks they oppress, The Legions of Hell fight with Church Militants, the Galactic Conqueror is in a war with The Federation, the Multiversal Conqueror fights against the Guardian of the Multiverse, the Scary Dogmatic Aliens are opposed by The Men in Black and Space Marines. And one side has a giant advantage; they win on every front and it's only a matter of time before they utterly annihilate their enemies. This is the Darkest Hour for the weaker side, but fear not, because Hope Springs Eternal. Then in come these nobodies. Hope Bringers are living proof that one person can make a difference and even the odds. By their actions, they restore hope in the hearts of their allies and lead them into the fight and victory. They can be the Big Good, the Magnificent Bastards, The Chessmasters, The Ace, the Rebel Leader or the People Of Mass Destruction - whatever makes them so special, it works. They can make the two sides not only fight on equal ground again, but even reverse the situation and make the side they help repay the other one for everything they did. The Hope Bringers’ motives may vary. They can help the good guys because they believe in justice, love their fatherland, want revenge, tend to their flock, spread the Good News or just Because Destiny Says So. Often the Hope Bringer is the Chosen One. Note that this isn't always a good thing, since Hope Is Scary and sometimes leads to a Hope Spot. And occasionally the hope bringer is a Dark Messiah who’s willing to do anything to bring hope- regulations, brainwashing, manufactured reality, whatever.

HEROIC SACRIFICE - A character saves another/others from harm and is killed, crippled, or maimed as a result. A bad character who was once good can redeem themselves in the last act by Taking the Bullet that was meant for The Hero, thus expunging all their previous evil, avoiding forcing The Hero to arrest or confront him, and avoiding any real life penalties like disgrace and jail. This is like Redemption Equals Death. In this case, the death and redemption come in a single act. There are essentially three kinds of Heroic Sacrifice:

The one at the beginning of the story, which sets the tone for the rest of the tale.

The one in the middle of the story, wherein the Heroic Sacrifice leads to new heights of badassery, or new depths of depression, in the characters who are affected by it (depending on the story.) Sometimes both.

The one at the end of the story which serves as a Grand Finale, an example of "This character is Too Cool to Live", or the kernel of a Downer Ending or Bittersweet Ending. The "Too Cool to Live" Heroic Sacrifice is the most common type in American movies. Often, The Hero Dies in a heroic sacrifice at the end.

A Heroic Sacrifice usually requires that a character be Not Afraid to Die, even declaring It Has Been an Honor. If the Heroic Sacrifice was pre-planned, it's a Self-Sacrifice Scheme. Often preceded with a Sneaky Departure from the team, or a More Hero Than Thou dispute. A Friend in Need often requires it, and doing it proves your love for them. Contrast Villain's Dying Grace, when a dying villain decides to save a life. The Doomed Moral Victor fights a battle where the outcome is clear from the beginning. If the character has time to say some last words before dying, they often do so in an Obi-Wan Moment. Often a Dying Moment of Awesome. There's also the case where Someone Has to Die, which takes this Up to Eleven.

[argentdandelion]

The True Power of NEO (Part 3 of 4)

To see previous entries in the series, check out “The True Power of NEO” tag on the ArgentDandelion blog. Made with help from CinnamonAzzy and Ihasafandom.

Tactic 1 (Explode the Exit) and Tactic 2 (Offense Over Defense) Responses

Using his NEO form as a block of explosives to seal the exit was a good idea, and exploding the exit while the human was in the room was, while riskier, still pretty good. Even using his box mode as a living wall to delay the Human’s progress was better than switching to his Mettaton NEO form to fight the human.

If his NEO form is anything like his EX form, Mettaton should logically be able to attack with it. As mentioned, Mettaton EX has strong attacks, numerous bullets, and a variable bullet pattern with a unique SOUL Mode mechanic. Assuming Mettaton NEO is even more effective at attacking and has some way to dodge or endure strong attacks (e.g., by flipping into his supposedly invulnerable original mode), attacking the human is a pretty reasonable option.

Indeed, he would, theoretically, have more time to prepare to fight the human in the Genocide Route than in other Routes, since he doesn't engage the human in TV segments. However, during that time, Alphys would be busy evacuating others, and so couldn't work on his body. (This assumes she both works quickly and the body was nearly done anyway)

Yet, this tactic depends on him being able to attack. He doesn’t attack, bringing up the question of whether he even can.

Can He Emit Bullets?

If the combat systems for his EX/NEO form were the last feature to be added, without Alphys' fine-tuning, he might enter combat with no attack capability. Mettaton, out of faith for Alphys' work or sheer haste, may have assumed Alphys installed some combat capabilities in his NEO form before he changed into it. It is also possible Mettaton finished the body himself while Alphys was doing something else, which might explain the missing eye and silly leg-shaped pauldrons (possibly made from spare parts). In this case, his lack of combat capabilities comes from his lack of skill in building robots.

It’s possible that, as soon as ghosts merge with their bodies, they can’t attack, or that there’s some learning curve or dormancy period before re-accessing offensive magic. Mad Dummy/Glad Dummy might support this: though many monsters keep fighting once spareable, as soon as Mad Dummy fuses with their body, they stop attacking. Mad Mew Mew, on the other hand, hadn’t actually fused with her body at the time of the battle. Assuming this hypothesis is true, Mettaton unexpectedly fused with his body and didn’t have enough time to re-learn how to make magical attacks.

The “dormancy period” supposition is a little weakened, though, by the observation Mettaton fuses with his body in his Mettaton EX battle and has no problem with bullet patterns. (Although many of his attack patterns are unusual objects or not projectiles.)

Death Explosions

One might argue that Mettaton is hoping the human will trigger his death explosion, and he would survive it if he hadn’t fused, or the explosion would kill both himself and the human if he had fused. However, this idea of a lethal explosion is weakened by one of his lines in the near-Genocide Route:“Yes, Asgore will fall easily to you”. This suggests he thinks the human will survive the explosion. Perhaps he, knowing the sheer power of even a whiffed strike, extrapolates that the human’s defenses are also very high.

Oddly, Mettaton’s explosion does not do any damage, in either the Genocide Route or Neutral Route. Mettaton wouldn’t have reason to deliberately explode his body in the Neutral Route. It’s possible his body exploding is a side effect of him reaching 0 HP, and Alphys hastily upgraded that to be useful in combat. However, given Alphys was evacuating Hotland, even with her super-fast working (assuming she doesn’t simply swap Frisk’s phone with a new one and re-adds two phone numbers), she probably didn’t have time to run simulations on whether Mettaton’s explosion would block the exit.

“You Wouldn’t Kill a Human, Would You?” Response

Turning into Mettaton NEO may have been a tactic to break the human’s will for killing, thus protecting humanity. (and perhaps monsters) If a human absorbing a monster’s SOUL gains great power, the genocidal Human would have a lot more power to kill humanity with Asgore’s SOUL. If Mettaton believes he can’t kill the Human, for whatever reason, then removing their will to harm humanity and kill anyone but Asgore is the next best thing.

Undyne believes the genocidal Human intends to destroy all of humanity, and Mettaton himself believes the Human is a threat to humanity. The genocidal Human would surely be a threat to humanity when they’re willing to kill a human. By that logic, changing into a more humanoid form wouldn’t give Mettaton “psychological armor” at all.

Perhaps he planned on doing the “you were holding back” speech after the human beat him up or “killed” him, thereby breaking the Human’s will to exterminate by showing they weren’t “entirely evil”. From an out-of-universe perspective, this makes sense. Papyrus often stops players from progressing on the Genocide Route, not because he’s no threat, or doesn’t attack, but because of the sheer guilt of killing him. Even in his dying words, he shows faith that the human can do better.

So Why Does He Act Like a Threat?

One might ask, “Surely Mettaton realized he can’t fight back? Why, then, does he act so tough?”

Mettaton seems to have good acting skills (in certain contexts, at least) and there’s evidence he’s good at improvising, acting like nothing is wrong, and hiding his discomfort.

Mettaton seems good at improvisation: when the Human doesn’t behave as expected in the Hotland TV segments, he seems to improvise lines. Mettaton apparently thinks ahead for the possibility the Human completes the tile puzzle, and says: "I only deactivated the flames knowing that Alphys would have anyway." If the Human fails the cooking show puzzle, Mettaton acts as if that time is when his show has a commercial break, and he's not going to destroy the human without a live television audience. Outside the Genocide Route, he knows Alphys plans to come to Frisk’s “rescue” and “deactivate” him, but he blocks the door. He also re-arranges the CORE, hires mercenaries to kill Frisk in the CORE, and offers a lot of money for Frisk’s SOUL to entice Muffet to kill them. He figures Alphys will tell Frisk to flip Mettaton’s switch, but that’s what he wants: to premiere his new body. However, when the human doesn't even step on a green tile, he's clearly stalling for time saying "well well well".

On hiding his pain, up until his arms fall off, his pained expressions are very subtle: it's impossible to notice he's in pain at all without lining up his expressions. (above) When his arms fall off, he looks shocked or pained, but then regains composure. If hit after that point, his pained grimaces are pretty subtle. He still attacks without arms, though he stops dancing. When he loses his legs, he’s shocked for the whole turn, but then closes his eyes (as if hiding a grimace) and still smiles. He also still attacks...faster, even.

However, his skill in hiding his pain isn’t perfect. Mettaton’s text shakes when the final blow is dealt in the Neutral fight, suggesting a quaver in his voice. (possibly of pain) He's clearly saddened when the final blow is dealt, although that's probably emotional, rather than physical, pain. Near the end of his death speech, he says: "I might seem like I'm dying now, but...Dr. Alphys can always repair me." He says the second part with a sad grin, making it not very persuasive, but the very fact he’s considering that and trying to act like everything is fine when he’s dying says something about his impression-management.

If one assumes he’s good at hiding his discomfort and acting as if nothing is wrong, he could plausibly act like everything’s fine even when his plan has gone off the rails. After all, it’s likely he fused with his body prior to or during the fight with the Human, and he surely felt this. It’s possible he’s hoping he can intimidate the human into fleeing or use some variant of Tactic 3 (“You Wouldn’t Kill a Human, Would You?”) to guilt-trip the human into losing the will to kill human beings and any monsters but Asgore. Even if that fails, he might still be going for Tactic 1 (exploding the exit and, ideally, taking the human with him) but he knows he’ll die in the process.

If you liked this content, check out the ArgentDandelion Ko-Fi and Patreon.

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

in too deep (part 5) - jules

jules x reader

TW: drugging

warnings: beating, homophobia, threat of death, i think that’s pretty much it??

notes: ooooohhh we’re getting closer to the end! not that i’m excited for this to end, but i’m just excited for you guys to see it

i really hope that me putting homophobia in this story doesn’t make you guys think i’m homophobic bc that’s the farthest thing from true. since i changed the gender of the mickey stand-in, i felt like it might be more interesting to add another dynamic into the story so it wasn’t just a word for word copy of the original except with a girl, bc that seems really one-dimensional to me. i feel like i need to put one of those things they have in movie credits like “the views in this film in no way reflect the views of the studio that produced it” kinda thing

also i think this may be my favorite part that i’ve written, bc if you didn’t notice, i’ve never left the reader’s perspective during the whole thing, so i had to improv a bit during the parts of the movie we didn’t get to see with mickey, and maybe i’m just a lil proud of myself :’)

******************************

for the first time since you came up with your brilliant plan to siphon the gas, you actually felt a glimmer of hope. jules was smart, she’d surely find a way out of the house; and she was damn loyal, too, so you knew there was no chance she’d leave you behind. 

sadly all those hopes were dashed when you heard the basement door creak open again. 

fuck, this whole plan was dependent on the fact that no one else came downstairs! your hands clammed up, your heart rate quickening as footsteps descended the stairs, stopping dead in their tracks once they reached the bottom. 

  “where the hell’d that little bitch go?” george roared, scanning every nook and cranny in the basement to see if jules was hiding anywhere. “answer me!”

you stayed silent, more out of fear than some sort of strategy. you quickly realized this was the wrong decision as george viciously backhanded you across the face. your head whipped to the side, eyes blinking back into focus from the impact. you felt something sticky on your lips and realized it was blood. 

  “you’re so angry,” you groaned. “why? just ‘cause you’re shooting blanks?” you pouted in mock sympathy. this sudden boost of confidence seemed to be a mistake as you saw george’s expression shift into a dangerously content one. 

  “i’m gonna rip your fuckin’ heart out.” your face dropped as he spoke. “i understand you not wantin’ to tell me where she is. in fact, if i were in your position i suppose i’d do the same. but god almighty i’m gonna watch ya’ die. i’m gonna hurt ya’.”

you were stunned into silence but you decided saying something, anything, would be better than nothing. “she’s gone, man. you just need to give it up.”

this seemed to strike a nerve in him. he turned towards you again and delivered another swift slap, knocking the wind out of you. he smacked you again, the back of your head knocking into the pole and causing your consciousness to fade for a moment. 

  “you think i’m full of hot air, don’t you? only good on roughin’ you up?” he asked rhetorically. “you know i worked as a door-to-door salesman for a few years? learned a lot, but the most important thing i learned was how to read people. and at the end of the day, you’re just an open book, sweetheart.”

the name sounded like poison dripping from his lips. it made you sick, that name belonged to jules. 

  “i know your type, believe you me, i’ve seen quite a few in my time. you see, you like to think you’re tough, strong, resilient, but at the end of the day, you just value her life above yours.” he laughed to himself. “am i right?”

he chuckled again when you didn’t answer. “that’s alright, you don’t have to answer, i know i’m right. well, you people are more loyal than i thought. guess i gotta give credit where credit’s due.”

  “fuck you.” you spat. “don’t fucking talk about her like that.” he stood up again, this time grabbing something from a shelf before making his way back to you. 

  “alright, no more pussyfootin’ around, time to get down to business.” he revealed the knife, positioning it under your ear as he prepared to slice it off. 

  “sheisn’tgoingtothecops!” you breathed out quickly, hoping he’d let you keep both ears with the statement. 

  “what? what’d you say?” he seemed caught of guard by the sudden admission, backing off of you. 

  “not yet, anyway.” you took a moment to catch your breath. “i told her to wait. yeah, we got a little meet up spot. now if i don’t show up there in an hour or so, then yeah, cops galore. you’re fucked, buddy. but, if i do show up, we just continue on our way like none of this happened.”

you took another shaky breath before you continued. “if we’re being honest here, i don’t want the cops involved any more than you do. y’know, the whole ‘not gainfully employed’ thing? the cops aren’t a huge fan of that one.”

george seemed to take this into consideration, nodding quietly to himself. “what about sweetiepie?”

  “her? i don’t give a fuck about her, she’s the whole reason i’m in this mess.” you winked at her, hoping she’d understand the message. 

george snapped the blade shut, producing the key from to the cuffs from his jacket pocket. 

------------------------------

  “any last words for this son of a bitch?” george asked gloria as he trained the pistol on you.

  “oh, i do wish you’d handled things differently. we could’ve had somethin’ beautiful here.” she smiled sadly, mourning what could’ve been. 

  “i’ll see you in hell,” george mumbled as he opened the door for you. you stepped into the doorway, only to stop dead in your tracks when you heard your girlfriend’s voice. shit.

  “stop, don’t kill her!” jules shouted from the top of the steps, baby doll in hand. “i will smash it!” she held it over the railing, dangling precariously above the hardwood flooring beneath. 

  “whew, that was close.” george laughed, closing the door behind you. “unhand my baby!” gloria whined. 

  “alright, missy, calm down. no one’s gonna get hurt.” he kept the gun aimed at your head, but gloria quickly pried it out of his hands and took a shot at jules. she crouched to shield herself from the bullet that thankfully missed, but in doing so let go of the baby that plummeted to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces. 

  “get your ass down here or i’ll blow her brains out!” george shouted gruffly as jules descended the staircase. she ran to you, hugging you close and helping you to stand on your injured leg. 

gloria rushed out of the room, bloody pieces of ceramic in hand as george turned back to you. “look what you gone and did. what did i do to deserve you two?”

------------------------------

  “cooking’s a zen art for my dear gloria. i’ve found there’s a method to it: the more upset she is, the bigger the dish it takes to pull her out.” george explained. “needless to say, i think the two of you just summoned up a banquet.”

the two of you had been crudely duct-taped to some chairs in the dining room, forced to listen to the stuffy dialogue between the husband and wife. “why? why do you keep her down there?” jules asked. 

  “it’s not what you think.” he looked over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t listening. “my gloria, she’s always wanted a child. unfortunately, the good lord did not have that in his plans for us. so, i had to take matters into my own hands.”

  “oh, so you kidnapped her.” jules stated bluntly. george glared at her, but continued his explanation. 

  “as you get older, things get... complicated, and i swear to god i had no ill intentions. i just wanted to make my wife happy.” he smiled. “and she was for a bit, until she started to remind her of what she couldn’t have. she asked me to make her go away, but i couldn’t bring myself do that, so the basement is our compromise.” 

  “dinner is served!” gloria announced, wheeling in a cart full of dishes of shepherd’s pie. she placed one on everyone’s plate before she sat down. they quickly said grace before digging into their food. 

  “so are you guys gonna kill us or...? what’s the deal?” jules asked matter-of-factly. you wanted to nudge her shoulder and ask her what in the hell made her so bold, but you didn’t want to cause a scene. 

  “george, you didn’t tell them?” gloria asked confusedly. “i wanted to make ‘em squirm a bit,” he smirked. 

  “t-tell us what?” you cursed yourself for stuttering but you couldn’t help it, it came out when you were anxious. 

  “we’re not gonna kill you.” george mumbled, almost sounding disappointed. “i said we’re not gonna kill ‘ya, what are you deaf?” you stifled a grin at jules, not wanting to change their decision to set you free. “we’ve decided that, despite your piss-poor behavior, the logistics of it just don’t make no sense for us.”

  “sooner or later someone’s gonna come lookin’ for you two. now, i can hide a body like the easter bunny hides an egg, but the two of you have been sweatin’, spittin’, and pissin’ all over this place.” he paused to take a sip of his drink. “anywho, i’m bound to miss a spot. i figure we have a better chance of hitting the road. we’ll give it 48 hours, tip off the police, they’ll come by and pick ya’ up. i reckon you’ll do some time for whatever the hell you two did, but at least you’ll still be drawing breath. so congratulations, you should be thankful. you just won the damn lottery.”

jules spared a glance at you as if to say, what now? “take your time eatin’ you got another couple days in those chairs.” george muttered as he took another bite of his meal. 

screw it, you thought. we’re hungry and going to jail in the next two days, what harm could a nice meal do? you both picked up your forks and knives and tucked in to the plate in front of you. you nearly let out a moan in satisfaction as the food hit your tongue. you scooped up more greedily as you had no clue if and when the next time you’d get fed would be. 

  “wait,” jules swallowed the food in her mouth. “what’s gonna happen to her?” gloria glanced over to george, waiting for the answer to the question as well.

  “well, i’m sure they’ll put her some place nice. these orphanages, i hear they’re like five-star resorts.” george answered. 

  “does that upset you?” gloria turned to jules, a smile of mock empathy on her face. “anything’s better than down there.” jules mumbled. 

  “you got a heart of gold, jules. is your full name julia?” jules nodded in response. “my mother’s name was julia. she had a good heart, too, you remind me of her.”

  “she died of cancer when i was real little. it was a slow, painful process, but i was with her every step of the way!” she grinned as her husband blew her a kiss. “the day before she died, she told me to look in the closet, that i’d find a special surprise for me in there. it was a package, wrapped up nice and pretty, with a tiny card with my name on it. she insisted i opened it, so i wiped away my tears, tore open the paper and there it was. a doll.” 

everything stilled. every sound, the scraping of cutlery on the plate, the sound of everyone breathing, even the breeze blowing through the window decided this was a nice time to take a break. 

  “she said it was a magic doll,” she continued. “that no matter how sad i became, and believe me, i became very sad, i’d always have him with me. my ethan.”

your gut instincts finally kicked in as you spat out the food that was in your mouth, the gross pile of chewed up beef and potatoes looking oddly blurry to you. jules looked equally as mortified, probably even more since she was the one who brought about the end of the magic doll. 

  “and she was right; he was magical. and you took him away from me.” she grinned her creepy stepford wife grin once more. jules mumbled something but everything sounded miles away from you as your head swam. 

  “wha-what is this?” you slurred, the bright colors of the table morphing into one another. 

  “this is a drug overdose, y/n.” he chuckled when you sluggishly turned your head towards him. “i know, i know, i fibbed about lettin’ you live, but see, you had a veritable pharmacy in that bag of yours. you two just munched down enough pills to put a bull to bed,” his voice muffled into indiscernible nonsense, though you knew he was still speaking. 

  “f-fuck you,” jules managed, still keeping her head up. you, on the other hand, were slumped over, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. 

george got up from his seat, pulling your head up by your hair. “not so tough now, are ya’?” he jested. 

jules muttered something in your defense, but as soon as your head dropped, you were down for the count; just missing the hopeful ring of the doorbell, possibly signaling you might live to see another day. 

******************************

i should probably put a link to previous parts at the top but i have no clue how to do that lol

tags: @emmyrosee​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @willyourecognisemee​ @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass​

[callsignbaphomet]

Ok, ok, few misc questions. What's it feel like for a werewolf who gets shot/stabbed/etc by silver? You said the parasitic Dae CAN fuse but don't need to to give bonuses, does fusing like, increase the bonus given? Is it kinda like a trade off in that sense? Is there any kind of visual tell to know someones fused with a parasite? On Legion again, do they always get sent out in groups? Solo? Depends? What's each of your ocs particular set ups? Is any of ALL I've asked, stuff yaint thought of yet?

About as horrible as it would for anyone actually getting shot and/or stabbed but 10 times worse. As a side note there IS healing magic that can be used to supress pain--yeah, that don't work for them when it comes to wounds created by pure silver.

Even if the individual has an insane pain tolerance like Angelus does it'll still knock him on his ass.

If it's not silver they can for the most part power through it like nothing happened.

--------------------------------------------------

Linking for Parasites and Hosts is high risk, high reward. Everything gets a huge boost but like I said it's risky as Linking for too long decays the human body. Two souls/psyches can't be held within one body as it overwhelms it.

You can tell someone is linked by the pupils. They get very uncomfortably huge.

--------------------------------------------------

Depending on the operation is how many go but it is strictly forbidden to go alone and people have been reprimanded for doing so.

Like not only would you have Jelani pissed the fuck off at you while bitching you out, you'd get slapped with a suspended ID (think of it as an unpaid suspension) depending on how dangerous and how important the operation and information was/is.

If it's a covert op (intel gathering) the minimum are 3 in the field and 1 at comms, there's 2 more standing by at a safehouse.

Wet works (assassinations) and the mark is human and doesn't know what's about to hit 'em a team of 3 are in the field, 1 in comms and 2 standing by. BUT if the target does know and is prepared, even more so if they are non-human, then a team of 6 are in the field, 1 in comms and 3 on standby.

Black bag operations (secret operations nobody can know they were even there) there's 4 in the field, 1 on comms and 4 on standby.

Then there's the classified sites. That's a whole other mess and a half. For those a whole ass team of 6 to 8 in the field is needed. Usually 2 in comms, there really aren't any standby agents nearby because these sites are a ridiculous high level clearance and the only two people in the world that can grant clearance are Jelani and Aleksey.

--------------------------------------------------

Each person knows the simple ins and outs of most weapons around, there's obligatory training every so often for refresher or to learn of new weapons. However they all have weapons that they most feel comfortable with.

Trevor is an expert marksman and is the lead agent of Ghost Team (snipers/marksman). He's also a trained pilot and can fly basically anything.

Angelus is a master arcanist specializing in offensive magic. If it's of a magical nature and it kills he's the go to for it. He heavily favors SMGs specifically the FN P90 which is his absolute favorite and shotguns. He's part of the Trickster Team which is all the archanists.

Ginger is also a master arcanist and is the leader of Trickster Team. She mostly specializes in defensive magic. Just like her bff she's got a thing for shotguns.

Abigail is the Yūrei Team leader. She's right at home with silenced and scoped single shot rifles. What's her specialty? Flanking. You won't see her unless she wants you to. She also applies some magic as well like invisibility and manipulation. She also has this tonal spell she uses to eff up the enemy that's a teeny bit similar to something Jelani does but it's far less gruesome. She can vocalize a beautiful tune that takes over her victim's mind and she can command them to do her bidding. Only lasts for a few minutes and for now she can only hold two people under her spell.

Draugr Team's leader is Latoya. These are the muscle, the heavy gunners, the suppressors. They walk around with heavy af weapons like it's nothing. If it's heavy artillery that woman can make excellent and effictive use of it. Her favorite type of weapon is the LMG.

Xiomara is the lead of Specter Team who are effective hackers. Basically the techies. Need a security system fried? Documents stolen from a server? Edited videos? Doxxing? Online tracking? Deleting online trail? Anything nerdy that may involve keyboards? Xiomara, Katya, and Thor are your go to for it. She mostly hangs back as she doesn't actually have to be in the thick of things but she's good with any AR.

AJ favors SMGs and handguns. Like Mahmud and Angelus he's speedy af and can run the entire AO and back without breaking a sweat.

Mahmud is all about lighter ARs so he doesn't get weighed down because he just has to go fast. He's part of Wraith Team (cqc/b specialists).

Manami is also a heavy gunner and anything that's not an LMG just won't do. She's also part of Draugr Team. She's a Berserker so she can also use her naginata.

Bombs! Explosives! Need some bomb disabled or wanna put a bomb in a car that'll go off when the driver puts the key in the ignition? Shaine's your gal. She freaking loves any and all things that go boom really loud. She's an absolute expert on all things bombs. She's leader of the Revenent Team aka the bomb squad. She'd happily run around with an RPG but that's not conventional so whatever else she can get her hands on is okay it's just not as fun though she will absolutely use weapons that can add a grenade launcher to it.

Tre is actually the leader of Wraith Team. Surgeon with a shotgun and a Seer which is super helpful. All he has to do is touch an item the enemy has held in order for him to see where they're coming from and what weapons they'll use.

Loke is an overall weapons expert. Like put any weapon in his hands and he'll use it to maximum efficiency and he's sort of the non-official field medic. He often plays the role of pointman and is the lead of Lich Team which are the 'jack of all trades' it's just that in his case he mastered all the guns and is actually excellent in every and any role he's placed in. His expertise of sniper rifles is second only to Trevor. Only knows 1 spell that his mother taught him when he was a boy and can use it if they're overwhelmed. As a Berserker he has access to a bow with infinite arrows, an axe and a shield.

And then Jelani who is the Acting Lead Agent, as well as second in command and will actually become THE head of Legion. He doesn't HAVE to be in the field but he loves being there and let's face it he's a bit of a control freak and wants to be there to make sure shit goes accordingto plan. If plan A fails you can bet he's got plans B through Z ready to go. Excellent strategist, like his brother an excellent tracker. He's part of Lich Team and is excellent with any weapon but his favorite are carbines like the M4. Lightweight and easy to use and reliable. Jelani isn't exactly who you'd look to for magic but he has one or two tricks up his sleeve. He can grab anyone and whisper to them in an unknown language to make them fall into a sort of coma like state but they're awake. In that state the victim will follow Jelani's every command and once he let's go they're brain dead. He's not a Berserker but he can materialize a weapon similar to his mother's, a glaive. It's just made of a different material. He's use of magic is a whole nother mess tbh.

--------------------------------------------------

I hadn't thought of too much info into Parasites yet as they're a relatively "new" thing that I redid. Actually if I'm being honest I scrapped almost all info and all Daefiernos and started again when I got rid of a character a few years back so they took a backseat until I started really getting into developing AJ. A few details of Parasites I hadn't thought of yet so these were useful 💞 I just get fixated on a thing and everything else takes a backseat lol

[girlinthepictureframe]

The Briefest Kiss Epilogue

It took me a little longer to get this done, but here it is: The epilogue. 

I LOVE YOU ALL FOR ALL YOUR KIND WORDS AND YOUR SUPPORT AND EVERYTHING ELSE. ❤️

Hopefully, you’ll like my next story, too. I’ll start posting very soon! 

Nick rolled his eyes hard as he kicked a half-filled box of books away from the sofa to take a seat. “How long do you live here now? Two months? Don’t you think it’s time to unpack?”

“Nope.” Alex reclined in his seat; legs spread out. “Mi and I won’t stay here for long. Unpacking would make no sense.”

Jamie snorted from his spot next to Nick and Katie, sitting on his lap, tried to fight a giggle. “Why did you move in here in the first place?” she wondered.  

“Miles’ place was too small and once he moved in with me, my place became too small. We needed a bigger place. And this was available. London isn’t an easy place to get something nice in the nick of time.”

“You got a nice and big place in Paris,” Matt reminded him.  

Alex sighed. “Paris isn’t London.” They stayed in Paris now and then. They loved it there in the summer when the weather was nice, and the sun was warm. But, once fall arrived, the weather in Paris was as shitty as it was in London. And if it was raining anyway, London beat Paris by a mile. London was home. The only thing left to do now was to find an actual home. Something big and welcoming. None of those modern, white-walled monstrosities that were marketed as lofts these days. And the charming apartments that his latest real estate agent had tried to load off on him had the appeal of a mud splash.

He had his sight set on something special. Something unique and rare. But getting it proved to be harder than he’d imagined.  

“It took me a year to find the right place,” said Jamie. “Do you really want to live between boxes for that long?”

“If need be, yes.” He checked the time. “What time did you get the table, Nick?” Alex was beginning to feel hungry. That bit of toast from the morning had long ago stopped keeping his stomach entertained and it had been the last bit of edible thing this apartment had to offer. He’d yet again forgotten to buy food. And the weird shit that Miles hauled in was barely worth even looking at.

“Around eight. We should leave soon. At this time, we’ll need an hour to make it there. London in December is hell!”  

“Tell me about it,” said Katie. “Took me an eternity to get a parking spot!”  

“I offered to drive,” remarked Jamie. “You refused to let me.”

“Last time you drove my car, you got a ticket!”

Alex chuckled. “How’d you end up with the fast car and Jamie stuck with the mini-van?”

“Speeding tickets,” grinned Katie. “The mini-van bores the shit out of him, which means he won’t drive fast with it.”  

“One more ticket,” grumbled Jamie, “and they’ll bench me. Gotta behave for a bit.”  

“Which means I get to drive his Porsche for now!” Katie placed a quick kiss on Jamie’s mouth. “I do love your car, honey! Who knows, maybe you and Jamie can share a cab soon. Miles mentioned you’ve been collecting tickets as well!”

“Not just tickets,” laughed Matt. “He tried to charm his way out getting one and got a warning from the police officer for attempted bribery!”

“She wore one of those festival wristbands. From Glastonbury. Asked her if she ever saw us live. She said yes. I offered to sign a record for her. She took it the wrong way.”

Matt pinned him down with a glare. “She didn’t take it the wrong way. You were miffed she declined and ticketed you anyway!”

“Whatever.” Miles and Matt had been in the car with him and if the two of them hadn’t reduced themselves to piles of laughter, the police officer might have actually let him off the hook!  

“When will Miles get back?” asked Matt.

“Two more days. Then he’s back for the weekend before he leaves for Glasgow again.”  

“He’s busy, huh?”

“Yep.” Alex loved that Miles was invited to all sorts of festivals and that he was so popular that his tour seemed never-ending, but at the same time, it was hard to constantly say goodbye when all Alex wanted to do was hold on and keep him close.  

His phone vibrated. He looked at it quickly and grinned at what the message read.  

“Good news?” asked Jamie.  

“Very good news,” said Alex. Maybe this whole apartment-drama was coming to an end soon. The text was from his lawyer who may or may not be able to seal quite a good deal today. Depending on the sellers.  

The doorbell rang. “Oh, finally!” Alex was desperately waiting for a package. He’d gotten into online shopping these days and found an old antiquities store in France that showcased its entire selection on the web. He’d gotten way too many things already. Books, an old carpet, a lamp, a vintage leather jacket that Miles continuously tried to steal from him…  

He pulled the door wide open, ready to sign and unpack the box when he froze mid-move.  

“Hey, babe!”  

Alex reached out, grabbed Miles’ head and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. His arms roped around his neck, his entire body pressed up against Miles’ and within a matter of seconds, Miles had him flattened to the doorframe, returning the kiss with equal fervor.  

“You’re…mmmhh…early,” murmured Alex between wild kisses and needy gropes.  

“Missed you so much!” Miles smiled into the kiss, bringing unabashed happiness to Alex’s face. “Got an early flight.” Hands went to Alex’s butt and Miles lifted him off the floor. “Tell me where!”

“Nowhere,” yelled Matt from the couch while the others whistled in unison.  

Alex chuckled into the crook of Miles’ shoulder. “Oh yes, we got visitors.” He fastened his grip on Miles and grinned harder when his love carried him all the way to the couches.  

“Hey, guys!” Miles dropped Alex onto the couch and immediately settled on his lap.  

Wrapping his arms around him, Alex made sure to keep Miles there. One was curled loosely around his waist, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his shirt. The other was on Miles’ thigh, not quite so absentmindedly playing there.  

“How was the trip?” asked Katie.  

After a while of sharing stories of the past two weeks, Nick and Matt got into a discussion with Jamie and Katie about the pros and cons of spending Christmas on a beach.

Alex was too lost in Miles to care about any of that. “I thought you had a gig tonight.”

“Got canceled. Bad weather.” Miles nuzzled into Alex’s neck. “And Glasgow got pushed to February. Something about construction problems.”

That meant Miles would be home for two months. “Baby, that’s so sad!”  

Miles was laughing as he caressed the delicate skin underneath Alex’s eyes with his finger. “You’re such a bad liar! But I agree,” he said, leaning in, kissing him, “it’s truly awful.” More kissing. “Horrible.” More. “I’ll be stuck with you for weeks and weeks.” And more. “Whatever will we do, huh?”

Alex’s hand slipped beneath Miles’ shirt, finding his skin hot and soft and oh so alluring. “We’ll bore each other,” he whispered. “No doubt.”

“We’ll tire of one another quickly.”

They were enjoying each other immensely. He’d missed him so much. Missed all that playfulness, missed the kisses, the smiles, the warmth of his arms. “We’ll wish we’d be anywhere but here.”  

Miles leaned back, meeting Alex’s eyes slyly. “Well,…that might actually be true! Did the real estate agent sent more offers?”

“Nothing good.”

“We’re still stuck here, then?”

Well… Alex tried to be vague without lying outright. “For the moment.” Miles would explode if Alex’s plan worked out. Hopefully in a good way.  

“We’ll make do!”  

Forever the optimist, thought Alex, and kissed him again.  

Nick got up. “We should really leave. I’ll call the restaurant and inform them to add a seat.”

“Tell ‘em to cut a seat.” Katie got up as well. “Alex won’t be joining us.”

Nick frowned. “Huh?”

“Katie, you can’t just uninvite him,” said Jamie.  

Matt sighed as he met Katie’s eyes. “They don’t get it, do they?”

“Not even a little,” she agreed.  

Alex chuckled as he clung to Miles, not even attempting to get up. “She’s got a point. I really don’t feel like going out tonight.”

“Should we stay here, then?” asked Jamie.  

Katie and Matt laughed and tugged the other two towards the door. “Honey,” she said, facing Jamie. “You do not want to stay and watch.”

“We’ll do dinner tomorrow! You’re all invited.” Miles’ hand snuck underneath Alex’s shirt, which made him perk up and smile widely.  

“Just not tonight,” Alex said, eager to resume his kisses with Miles. “Pull the door close on your way—” The words died on his lips when Miles was overcome with the same desire and swept his lips up in a fiery kiss.  

“Bedroom?” muttered Miles between kisses.

“Can’t wait that long,” said Alex as he tore Miles’ shirt apart, pushing him back onto the couch and straddling him. “Two weeks are not doable! I barely got any sleep!” He tossed his own shirt away and watched hungrily as Miles went for his belt. “Two weeks without you make me cranky,” he admitted, leaning down and kissing him hard. “They make me needy and restless and—” Another kiss. “Turn around!”  

Miles did in a heartbeat. A huge smile flew to his face as a hungry growl slipped from his throat. “Do me real good!”  

“Better believe I will!”  

-

Alex opened his eyes, stretched and purred like the world’s most satisfied, well-fed cat. A huge grin was on his face as he rolled on his stomach, squinting in the dark, searching for Miles. He found his phone instead and discovered a slate of unread messages.  

Contract signed.  

Congratulations.

We’ll do the final paperwork tomorrow.  

Sent a courier with the keys, should be there shortly.  

Alex frowned. The last message arrived an hour ago. And no courier had arrived. Then again, he and Miles had been a bit preoccupied. And loud. Maybe he hadn’t heard?

Butt-naked and completely content, Alex made his way to the front door, pulled it the tiniest bit ajar to check for neighbors or other people. No one in sight. He opened the door further.  

There it was.  

On the floor.  

A small, plain black box.  

Perfect.  

“Miles?” Door closed, box in hand, Alex made his way to the pile of clothes on the ground and grabbed his jeans. Once he had them on, he shoved the box into the pocket and headed for the little balcony. “Mi?”

“Out here!” Wearing only jeans himself, Miles leaned against the banister, cigarette in hand, and gazed dreamily at the object of his wildest desires.  

The house across the street.  

“The lights are out. They must be asleep already.”

Alex grinned as he wrapped his arms around him from behind, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. “What did I tell you about spying on the neighbors?”

“I’m not spying on them!” A sly smirk tugged on Miles’ lips as he leaned his cheek against Alex’s. “I’m just checking up…on their house.”

On their first night here, while trying to fall in love with their actual apartment, Miles had hopelessly lost his heart to the house across the street, which they had a magnificent view on. It was an old building with brown bricks and sprawling details. The windows were new and wide, and it had the most amazing balcony in all of London, assumed Alex.  

When the sun set and the apartment was lit, one could see the mahogany doors and tall ceilings. The rooms were large and while the interior design wasn’t quite what Miles and Alex preferred, it was still well decorated.  

“Do you know that the guest bathroom has a floor-length mirror that’s rimmed with white mosaic? Looks insane!” Miles’ eyes turned distant. “And the kitchen? Oh, Al. I’ve never seen a thing more beautiful!”  

The kitchen had no window that they could look into. Neither had the bathroom. Alex raised a brow as he nudged his nose against Miles’ jaw. “How do you know? Please tell me you didn’t break in!”  

A smile lit Miles’ face. “When you were in Sheffield last month, I may have knocked on their door and asked to use their bathroom.”  

“Miles Peter Kane!” Alex’s jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you did that!”  

“I had to!” His expression turned sheepish. “I had to know, Alex! I couldn’t live with the questions. I needed answers! I had to see the kitchen!”  

Alex curled his arms further around Miles, seeking warmth from him. The cold December night wasn’t meant for shirtless bodies and bare feet. But he also wasn’t willing to relinquish that delicious feeling of Miles’ skin against his own. “What else did you discover on your covert mission?”

“Your Steinway grand piano would look so fucking good in the living room! Imagine, babe: Cold, snowy nights, the storm rages outside the windows. But you and I are on the floor on that luxurious carpet of yours, entwined in front of the fire space. The walls are covered with framed cover art and old images. Our guitars are neatly positioned in the corners. The old record player is crackling as we listen to past tunes. Or to the Chipmunks’ Christmas record!”

Laughter burst from Alex as he envisioned it. “It’s got plenty of rooms. Whatever would we do with all of ‘em?”

“One we could set up as a studio for you!” Miles didn’t even need to think about it. “One we’d turn into a guest room, you know, when our parents visit? I’d cook for you in the kitchen. And we could have a dining room. Or fill it with a giant flat screen tv and a Play Station and an X Box. We’d finally have a closet big enough for all of our stuff!”

“We’d need a new couch. Get rid of our old ones.” Right now, they had his old one and Miles’ old one sitting side by side. “We could get that big, comfy leather one that we saw. We’d have the space for it.”

“And that bookshelf that you liked so much. For all those dictionaries and thesauruses. And the rhyme books. And the weird French ones.”  

Alex kissed a languid path from Miles’ nape to his jawline. “The ones you make me read to you?”  

“I love when you speak French. Can’t help myself.” Seven months of relationship and Miles still blushed when Alex mentioned something as innocent as that.  

Seven months of relationship and Alex was still falling in love with Miles. Deeper and deeper, every day.  

“Know what we should do?” Miles covered Alex’s arms with his own and rubbed the coldness away. “Make them an offer they can’t refuse!”  

“Out of the blue?”

“Yes!”

“What if they will refuse?”

“Then, at least, we’d know for sure! Let’s make them an offer now.”  

“In the middle of the night?” Alex chuckled. “That would do more harm than good, wouldn’t you say?” He laced his fingers with Miles’. “Tell me more about the house for now.”

Miles’ head rolled back, against Alex’s shoulder. And he sighed deeply. “You’re making me have all those dreams about us in the pretty house.”

“I know,” whispered Alex. “But you dream such beautiful dreams. Tell me just one more. Tell me about the kitchen. How would it look like?”

“Elegant and warm,” spoke Miles, eyes closed, cheek once again pressed to Alex’s. “The big coffee monster would have plenty of room to breathe and not get in your way when you experiment with your sandwiches!”  

“It’s not experimenting,” remarked Alex, pecking Miles’ cheek between words. “I just haven’t found the perfect recipe yet.”

His body vibrated softly as he laughed, wrapped up tight in Alex’s arms. “We’d have one of those fancy kitchen machines. I’d bake cookies for you.”

“Will you wear an apron?”

“With or without anything underneath?”

“What do you think?”

“We wouldn’t be making plans to go out on Christmas. We’d have our families over. And I’d be sharing the kitchen with your mom and mine and we’d have dinner in our dream house. We’d have a massive Christmas tree.”

“Two and a half meters tall at least!”  

“Decorated to the bone!”  

Last year, Alex had spent Christmas miserable and alone, wishing death to every Reindeer and Santa plushy he came across. This year, he couldn’t wait for the day to arrive. He’d gotten an obscene number of gifts for Miles. And he’d gotten matching Christmas pajamas for them. When Miles had seen them, he’d combusted in laughter. Then he’d immediately tried his on. What a difference a year could make. What a difference love could make.  

“We should really hurry then.” Alex pulled a hand from Miles and softly slid it down the side of his body, to his waist, where he rested it. “Those big trees are hard to come by, I’ve heard.”  

Miles smiled softly. “We don’t have enough space for such a big tree, babe.”

“And we should cancel the reservation at the restaurant. I mean, it really wouldn’t be fair to hog the table when they could give it to somebody else.”  

“What are you talking about?” Miles tried to catch Alex’s eyes. “Why would we cancel? We can’t serve dinner here. Where would we seat them all?”

“In the dining room.” Alex pulled the black box from his pocket with one hand, retrieved the key from it and held it up. He finally met Miles’ gaze. “Merry early Christmas.”

Miles’ eyes were clouded with confusion. They were big and round and his mouth was slightly ajar. “You got me a key?”

Pulling his other arm out of Miles’ hold, Alex placed it beneath Miles’ chin and gently turned his face towards the house across the street. “I got us our house.” 

It took a few moments for Miles to react. And when he did, his focus wandered from the house, to Alex, back to the house, then back to Alex.  

Alex, meanwhile, watched amused. Until, at long last, Miles settled his attention on him. “The…you…huh?”

“You.” He placed a sweet kiss on Miles’ stunned lips. “And I.” Another kiss. “Are now the proud owners of the house across the street.” One more kiss. “That is,” said Alex, biting his lips coyly, “if you want that. Do you want that? Will you move into our dream house with me?”

Still nothing. Alex was beginning to wonder if he had overwhelmed him. Until, a second later, a blinding smile broke out on Miles’ face and Alex felt himself swept up into the air.  

“Of course! I want that,” exclaimed Miles jubilantly, spinning them around, again and again. Then he stopped, set Alex down and kissed him so hard that he feared he might never recover. “Is it really our house?”

Alex cupped Miles’ cheeks; rubbed their noses together. “Our house. We have to sign the papers tomorrow. And then we can move in.”

“Tomorrow?”

“The elderly couple moved to South Italy last week.” For once, luck had been on his side and he’d caught sight of the moving truck. They hadn’t intended to sell. They had considered keeping the house as an investment. But Alex had put all of his charm, all of his energy and all of his ‘I’m the perfect son-in-law’ sweatshirts to good use. After two days of relentless sweet-talking, they had told him to contact their lawyer and get things moving.  

And tonight, his lawyer had closed the deal.  

“I don’t know what to say,” confessed Miles.  

“If you got no words to express your state of happiness…” Alex brushed his lips against Miles’. “You can always use your lips instead.”  

A fierce grin spread on Miles’ face. And he dove straight for Alex’s mouth, capturing his lips and not letting go again for a very long time.  

Not, when he walked them into the bedroom, not, when they made love, and not until he fell asleep in Alex’s arms.  

As Alex watched Miles’ body curled up against his own, as he listened to him breathing softly and slumbering peacefully, his mind drifted back to the first night they’d ever shared a bed.  

So many years had passed since then. It had been at a festival. They’d been a little drunk. They shared a hotel room, by accident really. Miles’ hotel room had been full of people who drunkenly crashed there. Alex had suggested he’d bunk with him instead. He hadn’t even intended sharing a bed. They’d fallen into it, truly. Tipsy and laughing.  

Alex had stripped out of his sweater, his shoes, and his jeans first. Miles had followed. Then they’d crawled underneath the blanket. And they had fallen asleep. He still remembered waking up the next morning, finding the bed warmer than usual. He remembered feeling oddly reluctant to leave the bed. The bedsheets had tangled around them and his foot had somehow ended up wedged between the mattress and the covers. He remembered watching Miles for a long while. He had needed a bit longer to wake up and adjust to reality. Then he’d promptly laughed at the sight of him as he’d tried to detangle out of that mess of sheets and covers. Hearing Miles laugh had been so reassuring. It had let him know that they were good. It had let him know that sleeping in one bed would not kill their friendship.  

It had been the beginning.  

But, it had also been the end of waking up together. Because, as Alex had watched Miles sleeping, he’d felt odd things. He’d experienced curious little notions. He’d had funny, new thoughts. None of them had made any sense to him at the time. However, a part of him had understood the general direction of where all of that could lead to. At the time, he hadn’t been ready for that.  

Now, though?  

Alex pulled the sheet further over Miles’ shoulder, to keep him warm. His fingertips danced idly over his skin.  

Now, the thought of not waking up next to him had the tendency to put him in a foul mood. He tried to accept that their lifestyles demanded separation over long periods of time. But he drew the line at anything that exceeded two weeks. More than that, and they’d have to find a way to meet in between.  

Lucky for him, Miles felt exactly the same way.  

To know that there was a person out there who desperately longed to hold you, to kiss you and to love you made you feel better than any words could ever dare to express.  

The feeling of being loved back by the one you loved was indescribable.  

And, phew!, had he tried to describe it! His band still laughed at the sheer number of love songs Alex had written since getting together with Miles.  

He’d written a few songs with Miles as well. But they had officially ended the Shadow Puppets. They’d performed a few songs at the end of last summer, during a festival. A proper goodbye, so to say. They’d performed the song they’d finished together. Miles’ love song to Alex.  

But they had both agreed that they were lovers now. And while the occasional song or performance was forever fun and enjoyable, an album and a tour would do no good. It would take away what came naturally and replace it with something forced.  

But it was okay.  

Alex no longer needed the Puppets to sneak longing glances at Miles. He didn’t need the pretext of a performance to seek proximity.  

If he wanted Miles, in whatever way, all he had to do was go and get him.  

And the same applied to Miles.  

There was no need for abstract lyrics. No need for code and secrecy. The world was aware that they were a couple now. And while it had been quite a media spectacle the first time Miles and Alex had been caught making out in the green room by a camera team before a scheduled interview of Miles, things had calmed down considerably since.  

Now, when Alex sang of love, and Miles did, too, everyone knew who they were singing about.  

And the fans, funnily, enjoyed it a lot more than Alex’s band did. The first time Alex had played a new song to the Monkeys, about a bit of pent up lust, two Monkeys had blushed profusely, and Matt had laughed for an hour straight.  

Miles curled deeper into Alex’s arms, rubbing his eyes and blinking up at him. “You’re staring at me. I can feel it. What’s wrong?”

“Just wondering what I did to deserve all this happiness.”  

Rolling him to his back and sliding up Alex’s body, Miles’ lips pecked his and he smiled warmly. Then he buried his face into Alex’s neck. “You’re the kindest, sweetest, most loving, tender, friendliest, politest, smartest, most talented, sexiest, kinkiest, most giving, most generous, most amusing, most forgiving, cuddliest, warmest,—”

“Alright, alright!” Alex chuckled.  

“I love you, Alex.” Miles kissed his neck again, smiling, giggling. “And I’ll still love you tomorrow. And the day after that. But you have to sleep now. ‘Cause we have to start moving tomorrow and if you fall asleep in the midst of that, I may not love you quite so much by the end of the week.”

“Oh, really?” Alex grinned.

Miles laughed. “Mmh...”  

“Let’s see who will fall asleep in the midst of something…” Spinning them around, Alex trailed lazy, little kisses down Miles’ chest, immediately being rewarded with throaty, happy moans. “Tired yet? Or should I continue?”  

“Continue,” croaked Miles.  

Alex’s lips reached his navel. “More?”

Miles nodded jerkily.  

“Don’t want to tire you out. What if you—”

Alex found himself on his back once again. Miles hovered over him, begging between kisses. “Sex. Now. Please!”  

“Yes, baby!”  

Spoilers for the new story: 

The title: A Trip Into A Dream

Miles and Alex are musicians. Their careers are equal to reality. Only, what if they met and instead of becoming friends, they messed the opportunity up? What if they became bickering sort-of enemies instead? 

Here are some teasers: 

#

“How small are you? One sixty?”

Alex began to pulsate with fury. That aggravating air of superiority, which surrounded Miles, was sucking all levelheadedness right out of Alex’s lungs. “One eighty,” he snapped.

“On high heels,” laughed Miles.  

#

“At some point,” began Miles, holding Alex’s gaze hostage, “you have to explain to me why you don’t like me. ‘Cause for thirteen years I’ve been trying to figure it out and I just can’t do it.”

“Careful, Kane.” Alex feasted on Miles’ undivided attention as he leaned closer. “Listening to you, one might be tempted to think you actually want me to like you.”  

“Careful, Turner,” replied Miles. “Watching you lean in like this, one might be tempted to think you already do.”

#