#but something in my brain was like i think there are actually some compounds with noble gases

[nohiketoosmall]

#anyone voting noble gases either doesnt understand chemistry or only lusts after the unattainable

anyone voting noble gases must be a highly electronegative element like flourine or oxygen, or maybe some of the transition metals. My girls helium and Neon are aroace but the other girlies are demi and willing to switch it up for the right person

Plz rb if you vote

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @mochie85 | divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

Summary: It's been a long time coming... But now the day for you and Loki to say 'Yes' and enter the bond of marriage has finally arrived. A covenant for eternity.

Chapter Zero - Counting the days until I can make you mine...

Warnings for this Chapter: none besides fluff

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: We finally kick off the Baby Fever wedding! Ahhhh, I'm BEYOND excited! 🥳 HUGE thanks to every wonderful person who has been a part of this story! You've been fantastic! All your ideas and endless creativity. The love you gave and still give this AU... I am blessed! 🙏🏼 I loved working with y'all! 🤍

Now... Without further ado... Enjoy the first chapter!

💍 Chapter One 💍

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• A Covenant for Eternity Masterlist (coming soon!)

You were standing in front of the stove inside the big communal kitchen of the Avengers compound; baking your world famous chocolate caramel cupcakes. Everybody loved the sweet treat. Even Nick.

It was a little gesture from you - and Loki - who actually wanted to help you, in order to show your gratitude towards everybody who helped you organise your wedding. With Natasha leading the way as your maid of honour and of course Thor as Loki's best man.

Currently you were preparing the caramel cream; humming along to the music which blasted through the over-ear headphones on your head. Since turning sugar into caramel took its time, you definitely needed some entertainment. If you only knew where your soon-to-be husband was...

Once you had added the cream to the caramel and kept on stirring the mixture inside the pot to Taylor Swift's '22', you couldn't help but move to the tones. But once the next song came on, your heart skipped not just one beat... With your eyes widening and lips parting into a big, dreamy smile, you immediately recognised that Spotify just decided to hit you with one of the two songs you were going to have your wedding dance to with Loki - wonderful memories to me made.

The coordinated stirring turned into aimless scratching across the bottom of the pot as your thoughts drifted off; reminiscing in the past and creating the future.

"Which constellation is that over there, my love?" Your gaze followed the direction Loki pointed to. "Uhh..." You frowned in concentration, "I think that should be Cassiopeia - but..." and squinted your eyes. "Something isn't right..." "What do you mean, love?" "There's a star in the constellation that shouldn't be there... Cassiopeia looks like a 'W', but... there's a star too much. It doesn't belong there." Loki let out a short gasp of realisation. "Ahh you mean that one star on the top left corner?" "Yes! Can you see it? Why is it there? This actually can't be..." A knowing smile crept up Loki's face. "Well, about that, I think I have an answer for that." You blinked at your boyfriend in confusion. "You have?" He nodded and sat up, before he summoned some magic. "Look up, my love." You were still confused, but did what Loki said, looked back at the wrong star constellation - and gasped. "W-What is happening now?" The extra star had started to shine brightly all of a sudden and with a snap of Loki's fingers, it... sunk down? Straight towards the two of you. Your eyes widened, as you grabbed on the God's forearm. "L-Lokes, what's... What's that? What's happening?!" Loki just smiled, with the star getting closer and closer. "Lokiiii!" The closer it came, the smaller it got, which left you even more confused. But you soon noticed, that it actually wasn't a star... It was something different... Something shiny... You watched with awe, as the 'star' flew straight into Loki's opened palm. It was a... ring with a shining green emerald on top? You had been so utterly fascinated by the spectacle above you, that you didn't recognise that your boyfriend had gotten on one knee beside you, neither that he was dressed in an all-black suit now. Your brain tried to process what was happening and when you had connected the dots, your eyes widened... A ring. Loki, wearing a suit, kneeling in front of you. This was a proposal.

Your smile even widened as the song led you down memory lane; causing you to experience Loki's proposal all over again.

Loki smiled softly and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "That was the start of everything... We talked a lot, met up in the library to read together, went on dates and at some point... You just kissed me. The rest is history. I had never been happier in my life, than I am with you now. I spent my whole life searching for a meaning - a glorious purpose... And then I realised, that you are what I was always searching for. You are my glorious purpose, Y/N. You showed me a whole new world. A world filled with love and kindness. You have given this new world to me and now I want to ask you, if you'd like to become my world..." The God took another deep breath, before he popped the question. "Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honour to make you entirely and for always mine? Will you marry me?"

You were sunken so deep in the song and the memories, that you didn't notice Loki entering the communal kitchen.

"Apologies, my love, I know I am late, but Rogers-" The god already rumbled out an apology, only to freeze in his motion as he realised a few seconds later that you were totally lost in your thoughts. He could tell. Must be some very good thoughts, Loki noted and decided to approach you gently.

He tiptoed over to the stove and kitchen counter; coming to stand behind you. Loki lurked over your shoulder; gazing from your smiling face down to the almost burnt caramel cream and back up to you. He hated to rip you out of your seemingly wonderful daydream, but he had to, right?

Slowly wrapping one arm around your waist, Loki lifted one shell of the headphones. "I apologise for interrupting your daydream, my love, but you should really keep on stirring this sugary treat."

His mouth so close to your ear; the hot breath leaving his lips and his deep, but gentle voice did the trick and ripped you out of your thoughts.

You flinched slightly; blinking rapidly, "Loki?" before your brain managed to caught up. "Oh shit!" You yelped up and quickly stirred the caramel cream, all the while reducing the heat.

Loki chuckled from behind you; wrapping both his arms around your waist and pulling you closer against his body. "Apologies, darling, but I just had to..." You sighed; blushing. "Thank you, babe... I-I, uh, got lost in my thoughts." Loki's chest vibrated with another chuckle, "I noticed." before he pressed a kiss against your neck. "What were you thinking about? You looked so happy."

The mere mention caused you to smile again. "You, of course." "Me?" "Mhh..." You manoeuvred the pot from the stove and turned in Loki's embrace. "Spotify decided to hit me with 'Can't Help Falling in Love' and well... Since our wedding is still yet to come, it took me to the very evening you proposed to me."

The god couldn't help but smile as well. He pressed his forehead against yours; thumbs caressing the clothed skin of your lower back. "I love to return to this memory of ours. I could swear that I still see the sparkle in your eyes. The beautiful look on your face when you said 'Yes' will be forever carved into my mind."

You nodded. "Just like I will never forget the way you asked the question. You in that suit, with the ring resting in your palm..." You quickly glanced at your hand, which was laying on Loki's shoulder; your engagement ring shining in the sun. "... and you down on your knee in front of me..."

Mischief suddenly twinkled in your fiancé's eyes, as the corners of his lips lifted. "You can have me down on my knees for you anytime, love." You gasped at his very ambiguous comment, "Lokiii!" and gently slapped his shoulder. "I was being so romantic and then you just pull it on the dirty side!" The god just giggled, "Apologies, my love, but I couldn't let this opportunity slip." and dipped his head to kiss you.

"No, but honestly, darling... I meant what I said. I love to return to this moment." You smiled; kissing him again.

"Remember when we told my parents?" Loki asked then after a short moment of silence. "Oh, yes, of course. Frigga was so happy..." Loki snorted out a small, happy laugh. "She cried of happiness." You nodded. "She did."

Another beat of silence passed.

"I can't wait to marry you, Prince Loki Laufeyson of Asgard."

Loki lifted a hand to softly cup your cheek. "And I can't wait to marry you, Y/N Y/L/N, queen of my heart." He gazed into your eyes; smiling, before he abruptly stepped out of your embrace. "But before I make you my wife, I'm going to help you bake those delicious cupcakes."

Baby Fever Crew: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @jennyggggrrr @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @huntedmusicgardenn @brokenpoetliz @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @icytrickster17 @jaguarthecat @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @smolvenger @lou12346789 @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @aagn360 @cakesandtom @lokisgoodgirl @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake (Continuing in the comments!)

[nicolefaw-blog1]

Cuddles - Natasha's girlfriend

Most people think that your girlfriend is the 'boss' in your relationship but that isn't the case. You knew that she is actually just a big softy and you wished that everyone could see this side of her but you understood that she just wasn't comfortable being like that in public.

You were sat on the sofa reading, as you had no missions or paperwork, when you felt the sofa dip next to you. You didn't look up from your book thinking it was just one of the other avengers as most of you were sat in the living room just relaxing.

Suddenly the book was removed from your hands and a warm body laid across your lap. You looked down to see your amazing girlfriend staring back at you looking absolutely shattered. You smiled down at her and began running your hands through her hair.

The avengers looked at you two in shock and then looked up at each other questioningly. Nat was cuddling up to you which is defiantly not what they were expecting to see when they saw her come through the door. They watched as you both just stared at each other and smiled. Tony watched you both before clearing his throat causing you both to look up at everyone.

"What...What is that?" He said pointing at you two. You looked back in confusion.

"Um... This is my girlfriend laying on my lap after a long mission. Why?"

"Well i...um....Just didn't think that Romanoff was the PDA/Cuddling type."

"Well you thought wrong." You looked down at your girlfriend and could instantly tell something was wrong, and it wasn't the mission. Knowing that she wouldn't want to make a big deal out of it you settled for running your hands through her hair knowing you could ask her later.

It wasn't long before you noticed some of the avengers getting up and leaving. You looked up questioningly at Clint, as he passed, who just smiled and nodded down towards your lap. You looked down and saw that Natasha had fallen asleep. You smiled before leaning down to pick her up as you knew she would be more comfortable in your bed.

As you made your way upstairs, slow and steady, trying not to wake Nat, she curled herself up in your arms and buried her head as deep as she could into your chest. You couldn't help but worry about her. Whilst this was normal behaviour behind closed doors, you knew Natasha wasn't one to cuddle you in front of everyone... well unless she was sick.

The more you thought about it the more it made sense. The last time she had cuddled you in front of anyone was when she was sick with the flu that had already passed through most of the compound.

Walking into your shared room you gently placed Natasha on the bed hoping not to wake her. Unfortunately as soon as she left the warmth of your arms Natasha woke up. You looked at her and knew you were right... She was sick. You sat on the edge of the bed and almost immediately Nat crawled over and rested her head back in your lap.

"Hey baby. How was your mission?"

"It was okay. " Natasha whispered in return.

"Babe.... Are you feeling okay." You knew you had to approach this with caution as Nat didn't like admitting she was anything but 100%.

"No... I feel really sick." You opened your mouth, to tell her it was okay to be sick, but shut it again when your brain registered what she had said.

"Oh baby, it's okay....How about a warm bath? Help you relax before getting some sleep. You watched as she nodded and you began slowly making your way to the bathroom, always making sure that Nat was okay.

1 hour later

After getting her settled into the bath and then, with the promise of returning soon, you went off to get her some medicine to help her feel better. As soon as you got back you had Nat take the medicine before gently helping her wash her body.

Eventually you got her out of the bath, dressed in loose clothing, and into the bed. You put the TV on quietly for background noise and laid down pulling Natasha towards you and watching as she laid her head onto your chest. She smiled and buried back into your chest as you began to scratch her head.

"Goodnight baby... I love you." Natasha spoke sleepily. You smiled down at her before replying.

"Goodnight Tasha... I love you too."

[ceilidho]

Ok if this doesn't sound like an idea you'd be interested in then disregard, i don't want to bother you 🙂 BuT! It's been itching the back of my brain since forced throuple au and creepy-apartment!ghost has compounded it so:

Forced throuple but a sort of android verse with some body snatching horror thrown in for flavor. Reader's husband (Soapy boy) dies suddenly and in their grief a lot of stuff has gone into disrepair, so they mail order an android to help around the house and with crippling loneliness. The company sends Ghost, a refurbished security model now named Simon, and he ends up being pretty helpful despite the silent brooding. Hell, sometimes that even helps as scary dog privilege so you let it slide (big mistake dumby, that android is falling for you in the process of taking care of you ohhh no-).

But maybe Ghosts old security features make him super observant (obsessive) paired with his new "fix it" code make him come to the conclusion that, actually, reader could still use her husband and mail orders a Soap-bot-3000 without letting them know :O. Watch the horror unfold as Reader wakes up one morning to her VERY NOT dead husband in bed and both Ghost and Soap acting like nothing is wrong :)))), maybe some "Simon reverts fo Ghost" too as the story progresses

this is from awhile ago (apologies, anon) and so wickedly weird and cool :)))

androids that are so realistic and bodies so malleable that they almost feel lifelike, like they're flesh and blood. you never wanted to actually give in and purchase one because you have personal qualms with the idea of something so human-looking being programmable and subservient to you; it's just always felt wrong and borderline cruel, and johnny used to concur with you when you spoke about it. that was then though. years and months and weeks before the accident.

now it's midday on a tuesday and you can't even get out of bed. there are two weeks of dishes in the sink and the lawn is overgrown and the feral cats haven't stopped by in days because you haven't had the strength to get up and feed them. your voicemail's been full for days. your sister stopped by and insisted when she saw the state of your house. "at least for a few weeks," she pleaded with you. you can always return it when you're back on your feet. she's already ordered you one from 141 Labs before she's even out the door, making you promise to give it a shot.

when you open the box, you worry that you might've ordered the wrong model. the size of the android they sent you feels out of place, like he's meant for private military companies or as a bodyguard for celebrities. not depressed accountants who can't get out of bed because their husband died two weeks ago. but it's your name on the receipt, your address. so when his blue eyes flare neon when he's first activated and all six feet and four inches of him sit up in the crate (that had to be wheeled in by two delivery men, you recall with a small amount of horror), you wait patiently to introduce yourself.

maybe this one was sent to you because of the defect. he wears a mask because the only layer of skin on his face starts from the bottom of his face down. at first you roll the mask up only to shudder at the exposed wiring and metal where cheekbones should be. you roll it back down.

he comes with a name. Ghost. that's his model, you surmise from the lengthy instruction booklet you're provided. the whole situation feels weird at first; his presence in your house always catches you off guard, even though, you suppose, it's his house now too. you jump whenever you walk into a room and he's just there, silent, so large that you nearly always think Threat first before you recognize him. maybe it's not fully your fault. he makes no effort to signal his presence, moving silently from room to room when he helps carry out the garbage or swifter the living room. sometimes you catch him staring at the photos of you and johnny that still line the top of the fireplace.

you try to be equitable, insisting that he take the guest room as his own. Ghost won't hear of it, following you into your room when night falls; ominous. you have to lock yourself in the en suite to change, heart beating away because you know he's standing just outside the door, like a cat waiting to be let in. shaking hands drag your clothes down. you stare blankly at the door while you shower, fingers twitching when you pass a washcloth over your nipples.

you think there's something wrong with you. you're sick or something. you're sick or something worse because your husband died two weeks ago and the thing in your house isn't even a human and still your stomach clenches when you think of him waiting for you in your room, knowing that you're naked behind the door. it's taboo; it's not something that's done, at least not something that's spoken about. people don't sleep with their androids. recent widows especially should not be thinking about fucking their androids.

two weeks go by. you can't even think about johnny without wincing these days.

"he was your husband."

you look up. Ghost says it like a fact, not a question. you're in the living room sorting through insurance papers while Ghost vacuums under the sofa (he lifts the corner up with just a single hand; you swallow, throat already dry). neon blue eyes zip across your face when you look over at him. you wonder sometimes what he sees there, etched into the plains of your face.

"yeah." your smile is tight, pained. "johnny."

he looks back down to the framed photo in his hand, studying it. you wish you could ask him what he's thinking about, but you worry that would be just another privacy stripped. you can't ask more of him.

"what happened to him?" he finally asks, looking up again.

you feel it catch in your throat. "he, um - he." it doesn't come out. your nose stings before you can even try to get more out. you grimace, shrug instead. you try to smile again, but it's warped, unpleasant to form much less look at. don't ask, it says, whatever you do, please, please don't ask.

"you miss him?"

you blink at him, misty eyed. "ye - of course."

his eyes are so, so blue when he stares across the room at you. it's unnerving to look at; terrifying to find yourself under his scrutinizing gaze. what do androids even think about?

"I understand." he puts the photo back on the bookshelf and walks out of the room.

sometimes you catch him watching you too intensely; rare moments when he doesn't seem entirely mechanical. you wonder if one day you'll roll the mask up and there'll be skin there suddenly, a real flesh and blood person. it feels entirely possible some days. he moves too fluidly, has his own quirks and intricacies that seem newer each day.

you don't try it. the minuscule amount of professional space between the two of you is an absolute. you worry sometimes what you'll let happen if you ever let that distance collapse. already he sleeps motionlessly in the chair beside your bed, refusing his own room. he powers down with his eyes still open, the blue flickering away to a dark grey. it's only mildly reassuring.

when you open your eyes in the middle of the night though, he stares back at you, eyes dark and sightless.

you worry sometimes that you might have made a mistake, letting your sister talk you in to this.

it's the arm tucked around your waist when you're doing the shopping, freezing for a second before the hand on your hip squeezes and he pulls you towards the fruit and veg. it's the menacing stare from over your shoulder when a man approaches you in the checkout lane, offering his condolences (an old colleague of your husband's, he says) and an invitation to dinner. you open your mouth only for Ghost to answer for you.

"No." it thrums out of him, a different modulation. you stare helplessly as the man's face goes white and he makes an excuse to leave, offering you another lame apology.

it's the hand that tugs you out of the store by the back of your shirt, Ghost's voice rumbling like he doesn't know you can hear him. saying something about how you don't need another man in your house. that you had johnny and now you have him.

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello! i was wondering if since we didn't get the actual confession for DinoxReader 'Queen of Posions' thing if you would be willing to add that? if you're done with that story that's fine too.

part i

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

“The doctor said you need to rest.”

“Doctors are idiots.��� [Y/N] replied when they arrived back at their townhouse in the city after being cleared by the Blood. Dino had insisted on escorting them home.

After the events of their attack, [Y/N] had been taken for medical treatment to make sure there was no effects lingering in their system. Her hypothesis had been correct in that without the original, there was no way to influence will on the subject. The medical team also tried to do some tests on [Y/N]’s unique compounds found in her blood, but the fools were nowhere near the genius of its host, so they released her swiftly with directions to rest and recover.

“You should still rest.” Dino insisted again. Following her through the house and into her office. A familiar place for them as she was often working in her home lab or office on some manner of research. “You may not be enthralled, but you were attacked.”

“Yes, Dino, I was there.” Her hand came up to rub at her neck that had been bitten. No lingering effects of influence but still no less sore probably. “Your concern is touching but unnecessary. Isn’t there someone else you should be fussing over?”

“No one else is worth the fuss.”

[Y/N] stopped shuffling her papers and looked up at Dino. His tone was naturally very serious. He had always had a deeper timber than most, which led to his dry wit. But the tone he had taken now was much more serious. Dino realizes he would have to be if he wanted [Y/N] to listen to him. Though brilliant, she often mistook social cues or just simply wouldn’t listen to people. She would listen to him this time though.

“When you were attacked it felt like my world had shattered. To think that you would be controlled by someone else. That I may have to kill you like Dali did to his wife. It was too much to even consider, much less live though.”

“Dino, what are you saying?”

“I am saying that I love you.” The direct approach was the only way usually to get her to listen. “What more is there to say than that?”

[Y/N] seemed surprised by his confession, then blushed. Though a brilliant alchemist and steward of science, she was still a woman who could clearly be swayed by soft words deep down.  “Are you sure? You didn’t just get hit on the head or something? Eaten bad cheese?”

Dino scoffed. “I am not the one who was attacked, remember. And you know I can’t stand dairy.”

[Y/N] appeared to rack her brain for another logical explanation for his confession, but of course there was none. Dino might be just as cynical as she was, but he could admit that somethings were not just explained away by logic or reason. Love was one of them. “If you do not feel the same that’s fine. You wouldn’t be the first woman not to love me back. But I just thought I would let you know.”

“Save the self-pity Classico,” [Y/N] clipped at him, “I never said I didn’t love you this is just….a lot.” She said, rubbing her neck once more. “My life was just in peril you know....” She looked nervous. Dino had never seen her be nervous before. Always confident, precise, logical. This change was something new and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited by it. He was probably the only person in years to see her like this. Would she look this way during other things, if she accepted him?

The noble stepped forward. Using his full height for a change to crowd her. “I love you.” It seemed to bare repeating. “I have known this about myself for a very long time, though I know this is new for you. If you need time, I will accept it. Just so long as you accept me.”

[Y/N] looked up into his eyes. An expression of calculating honesty but also wonder. “Yes, Dino,” she told him, “I will accept you.” Dino was pleased. Not realizing he had been holding his breath while waiting for her response to then just let it out in a heavy sigh on the air.

It might have been premature & improper, but Dino couldn’t help himself. He leaned down to give [Y/N] a kiss. Yet, just before their lips touched, she cried out, “Wait! Wait! Wait!”

Dino was alarmed. He stopped immediately, thinking that was indeed premature & improper, but then cried out on his own when he was stabbed by a small hairpin in the neck. “Nine hells! What was that for?!”

“The antidote.”

He stopped wincing in pain, realizing what she meant. Her sign of acceptance. That he could touch her. Again, probably one of the first people in years she could get close to.

Dino grabbed [Y/N] hard and kissed her fiercely. No longer afraid of impropriety or decorum, or even her poisons. She would make a fine match for him. His only match, as far as Dino was concerned. Once this case was over, and vampire kind was saved, he would give the Queen of Poisons a new title. For now, he would just be happy she was safe and accepted him. That was all he could ask for right now. That and more kisses.

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 8

Twinkles

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Little Birdie Next Part: True Romantic

Word Count: 7,072

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

A week and a handful of days was exactly how long you actually made it into your two weeks before you found yourself with a mind just as hectic and busy as it was the day you left the compound. But the only difference now was that it was you and your thoughts back on an empty road on the way back to the compound.

You figured that processing your feelings and settling back in at home might've been good for you. Maybe being back in the environment that caused all of the physical and mental injury would help move the healing along faster, help you make amends and tie up all the loose ends you needed in order to really solidify your place in such an environment.

Plus, you still wanted to talk to Bucky again. You needed to bury the fight for good. And Steve... lord knows you still have a lot to figure out between the two of you... and Bucky. Okay... there was still a lot of figure out with the three of you.

The road was so dark and almost lonely with the lack of traffic happening at 10pm on a weeknight. For some reason, not even your playlist or the almost freezing temperatures outside competing with your car heater was distracting your brain from the only thought it could conjure up, which was to call Steve.

You didn't know why you wanted to talk to him, or even what to say, but your fingers even pulled up his contact on your car's display just in case.

It was already late, and you had no reason, but you couldn't stop thinking about him. Wondering if he was already asleep, you took the leap of faith and pressed call.

Your intuition was right, because before you could even press call, Steve's name popped up on the little screen and your car informed you that he had called you first.

"Hello?" You spoke, eyes glued to the open road.

"Hey, Bug." He spoke back, voice deep and raspy as if he was half asleep. "What are you up to?"

"Funny you should ask, I was literally just about to call you but you beat me to it." You told him with a smile, well aware he couldn't see it.

"Oh really? What's wrong?"

"Nothing! I don't know why I wanted to call you, but my brain was telling me I should." You explained. However, you could recognize now with the sound of his voice that there was something going on with him. He sounded sad, or maybe frustrated and definitely tired. "What's going on with you?"

"Funny you should ask" A very fake and lazy chuckle sounded. "I'm miserable at the moment, can you tell?"

"Just a little." You lied. He definitely sounded miserable. "What happened, Stevie?"

"The stupid heater in my apartment isn't working and it can't get fixed until tomorrow." Steve started. "I'm exhausted, but no matter what I do I can't fall asleep because I'm so fucking cold. I was going to ask Bucky if I could sleep at his place tonight but I saw Nat's location was in his apartment so that flew out the window."

It took a slight moment to figure out why Steve was complaining about the temperature when he was usually the kind've guy that could put up with anything. But when it clicked, you felt a billion times worse for him.

You remembered a few times Steve has confessed to you that he can't stand the feeling of being cold.. 66 years of being stuck in ice will do that to a person.

Though he had no memory of all of those long years, his brain seemed to hold onto what he felt during the first few moments of the plane he crashed straight into the arctic.

So every time Steve found himself alone in the cold, he swore he could feel his skin sting. His heart would race no matter how hard he tried to get it to slow down, it felt like the floor would start dropping below his feet, and the entire time he was waiting for pain that never came. The longer he stayed cold, the worse it would spiral.

Your eyes darted to the time displayed in your car, 10:54 pm. Then they read the outside temperature, 36 degrees Fahrenheit.

"That sounds awful, I'm sorry" You pouted. "You have my key, why don't you sleep at my place?"

There was a deep sigh through the phone line, and a few moments of silence as he contemplated what to say next. "It's okay. I'm actually not even too sure why I called you, I think I'm just trying to calm myself down."

Your pout deepened and your heart cracked. "Steve"

"Hmm?"

"Go sleep in my bed." You commanded.

"It's fine, Bug. I just wanted to talk to you. Why does it sound so... rumbly?" Steve tried to change the subject.

"Oh, because I'm driving right now." You explained. "Im using my phone's Bluetooth to turn on the heater in my apartment for you so it'll be nice and toasty when you get there."

"It's so late, why are you driving?" He asked.

"I'm actually on my way home right now." You explained keeping it vague, he didn't know which home you were referring to. "Is 73 degrees okay?"

"Bug, I can't." Steve denied, sounding remorseful.

"You can't what?"

"I can't just accept your kindness like this."

If you didn't know him so well, you almost wouldn't be able to know just from the sound of his voice that he was on the verge of tears. But i in this case, you probably knew him better that he would've liked. "Like what, Steve?"

"I still feel so bad that I hurt you." Steve explained, practically in a whisper. He was thankful you couldn't see the way his hands were shaking or the way he had to breathe through his mouth because of how fast his heart was pounding from the sheer amount of anxiety coursing through his nerves. "I can't just go seek comfort from you and invade your space after what I did. That's not fair."

Now, you felt like crying too. "We already talked about this. We can't keep holding onto what happened or it's going to make us both miserable."

"So you're still feeling better about it?"

"Since the last time I saw you? Absolutely." You reassured him. "What can I do to help you feel better right now?"

"This is more than enough." The statement was filled with the most confidence you've heard since answering the phone.

You knew he was seeking any sort of validation that you didn't absolutely hate him, so you tried your hardest to butter him up with some truthful vulnerability "I miss you"

"I miss you too." He agreed, letting his eyes fall shut. "Any chance I can see you again soon?"

You smiled, but he didn't have to know that. He also didn't have to know that you had a 35 minute ETA back to the compound. "I'm busy tomorrow, but how about Saturday?"

"Saturday works great." He declared, still miserable but he tried to be enthusiastic. "You're coming back to the compound on Saturday?"

"Yep, I'll be there." Again, not a lie. "What do you want to do on Saturday?"

"Sleep? Take a nap? Watch a movie? Take a nap while we watch movies?"

You laughed at his suggestions. "That sounds great. And what are you going to do right now?"

"Hopefully sleep and take a nap and sleep some more."

"Think some warm thoughts?"

"I wish I was a marshmallow on a stick." He mumbled.

"Love you lots, go sleep in my room."

"Love you more, no." Steve denied again. "I'll let you go now. I think I'm starting to feel a bit better."

"You think or you know?"

"I'll only know once I hang up."

"Well if you don't know, just call me back, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you for talking to me, drive safe." He didn't want to hang up, but he also didn't want you to think he was being clingy or dramatic so he decided to cut the conversation short. "Will you let me know when you get home?"

"Sure thing. Think about the marshmallow!"

A very small smile tugged at his lips. "Goodnight, Buggy."

"Sweet dreams, Stevie."

The phone-line ended and your music started again. Much like before, the road was still lonely, and you were still unable to get your mind off of Steve. Maybe even more so now than before the phone call. But there was nothing much you could even do for him from the middle of the highway, so you sang along to your playlist that was playing a bit too loud, and tried your best to ignore the uncomfortable sting settling in your lungs as anxiety took over the closer you got to the compound.

That anxiety only worsened as you pulled up, and parked in your reserved spot. You flung your bags over your shoulder and walked through the lobby to get to the elevator and up to your apartment.

The luxurious smell of the building, the sounds of the automated doors and buttons, mostly everyone walking around in their designated uniform, and all the familiar faces reminded you of the really dark place your mind forced you to live in for the long weeks before you left.

Your apartment was no help either. Dragging your feet through the living-room and into the bedroom made memories of all the hours you were stuck in bed flood back so fast you felt physically nauseated. The tossed around blankets over your couch and your bed left unmade was nothing but evidence of how fast you left the compound in the first place. As if you set out on an emergency mission to save yourself.

Luckily you had a perfect excuse to not linger for too long on your own, so you dropped your bags in the corner of your room before making your bed and let your legs carry you over to Steve's place.

After making your way all the way there, and taking a big deep breath to brace yourself for whatever was about to happen, you slid his key that you never gave back to him into his door.

Then, a voice appeared practically out of thin air. "Oh wow, never thought I'd live to see the day Rogers has a girl sneaking in" Tony commented as he walked right past you in the hallway.

"This is definitely not what it looks like." You denied Tony's remark with a shake of your head, but he didn't stick around long enough to even explain yourself.

You stuck to rolling your eyes as you entered his place. It was odd being in his apartment after so much time away, but it was exactly how it always was. Immaculately clean, decorated well, and it smelled subtly like his cologne that you loved so much.

Though you wanted to stop for a moment to reflect, it did little to keep you from walking straight to his bedroom door and opening it slowly as to not scare him.

The first thing you noticed was that his TV was on and playing a movie you didn't recognize, but it provided enough light for you to see the lump hiding beneath the covers. How you still felt the overwhelming sense of comfort you always did when you'd sneak into his bed during the sad and lonely nights. Then, you realized how cold it actually was in his apartment. The longer you were there, the more the chill in the air seeped through your clothes and raised bumps on your skin.

You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not, but you walked towards him slowly regardless. Then, the blankets tugged around him tighter. The smile on your face spread when you realized he was awake and hiding from what he assumed was Bucky.

"Not in the mood, Punk." Steve mumbled.

A giggle escaped you as you sat on his bed. "Rude"

You watched as his head poked out just for a moment. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he let out a little sound of complaint, and pulled the blanket back over his head.

"Hey! Where did you go?" You questioned, smile stretching wider.

He mumbled out a statement you could barely understand, but you did catch the end. "....... liar."

"What did you call me?!" You questioned, faking offense.

There was no response other than a little laugh so quiet you almost missed it, so your hands weren't shy to grab onto the lump of muscles and anxiety covered in a pile of blankets and shake him around playfully. "What did you call me?!?!" You asked again with a giggle.

This time, he poked out just the top of his head and his stupidly beautiful big blue eyes. It was painfully obvious that he was hiding a smile despite his misery. "I called you a big fat liar" he sassed.

"I told you I was on my way home." You defended yourself with a performative gasp and your right palm straight over your heart. "I never lied!"

"I thought you were Bucky!" Steve continued, still hiding most of his face. He was thankful that the hoodie pulled over his head helped hide his messy hair.

"It's pronounced Buggy" you smiled.

"What are you doing back here so soon?"

"Stop asking so many questions, I'm here to rescue you." You enthused, but it earned another groan and the blanket back over his head. "Wow, you're really going to make my first mission back a difficult one huh?"

More gibberish grumbles sounded from underneath the blanket pile. Even if you asked him to clarify the meaning of his babbles, you knew he was still going to be unwilling to cooperate.

"Fine, you leave me no choice." You huffed while standing up from your spot and kicking your shoes off. Then, you grabbed hold of what you assumed was his shoulder and his waist, then pushed with all your might to roll him over from his back and onto his side.

Laughter he was trying his hardest to contain slipped past his lips when he heard your sounds of struggle. "I'm offended that you're huffing and puffing up there."

"Oh, so now you're speaking crystal clear?" You noted, taking in a deep breath after moving the dead weight of a super soldier. "Sorry for the huffing and puffing, didn't realize you were made of pure muscle and uranium. If I did, I would've warmed up a bit first."

"Uranium?" Steve questioned still sounding miserable, still hiding from you.

"The heaviest element on earth" you clarified, lifting the corner of the blanket pile on top of him before sliding into his bed. "It's a compliment on your big strong muscles, Stevie, don't get it twisted."

"What are you doing?!" His head lifted in confusion as you got into bed with him, under the safety of his blanket fort, and started curling yourself behind him.

The front of your body was against his back, your legs tucked behind his, and your arm wrapped around his waist to hold him nice and snug before you put your chin to his shoulder and propping yourself up a bit so you could see his face. "Providing you with the love and warmth you need to feel better, isn't that obvious?"

His big blue eyes opened to look up at you for just a moment, and when they met your gaze his stomach filled with butterflies and an undeniable blush warmed his cheeks. Then, his pretty eyes gleamed with that familiar twinkle that made the corners of your lips tug upwards.

You were so much braver than he was, because before the big blow out between the two of you, a friendly snuggle here and there was no big deal. But now that you knew the extent of his admiration for you, he didn't know if he would ever find the courage to touch you again. It was too high stakes, and way too nerve wracking for him to risk. Because if he tried his hand at you and fumbled his chance, he'd never forgive himself.

You found that hesitance to be obvious, but sweet and endearing. Much like you found his reactions to your actions to be even sweeter and more endearing.

The 6'4, 250 pound weapon of a man was nothing but putty in your hands now, and that did a number to your capacity to fight off your own repressed feelings for him. If he was putty, then you were melting like a snowman on a summer vacation. Neither of you stood a chance against each other, both of you were letting your walls fall not only down, but also apart.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut so hard that his whole face scrunched up, and let his head hit the pillow once more. "Why am I the little spoon?"

"Because I know you well, Stevenson" Your smile widened.

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"You have the most obvious little spoon energy of any person I've ever met before." You explained. "That's not a bad thing, it's just a fact. Are you not loving this?"

"That's a trick question" He huffed in complaint before nestling closer to you. "You're so warm."

"See? That'll make you feel better soon. And now you don't have to be alone, so we can take some nice deep breaths until our anxiety floats away... but of course if you hate this too much I can just leave..."

There it was. The biggest relief to Steve's mind and heart... your sassy and sarcastic spunk was starting to shine back through you. Though he still felt like pieces of yourself were lost, the smallest pieces of you were a victory to him. If he was just a little less anxious, he'd find it within himself to bounce off of your sarcasm, but right now he just needed his mind to be less busy.

Steve shook his head shyly. "I really don't hate this."

"See? So just relax." You reminded him as you settled in and let yourself fully lay down behind him. "You're so tense."

"I can never get myself to relax when I'm cold." He explained to you. "It feels like I'm waiting for something that never happens."

You could read between the lines of his words. He was waiting for a plane crash, a physical feeling of pain that he associated with being so cold.

"Nothing is going to hurt you, Stevie." You reminded him gently. Of course he knew that, but sometimes anxiety lies to brain if its victim. Sometimes a small reminder is all you need.

"I know." He agreed with a small nod, trying to get his hands to stop trembling.

"You know it's 42 degrees in here? I read the thermostat on my way in."

"Feels like it" Steve complained.

"My place is a toasty 73."

"That's lovely." He mumbled. "M'happy for you."

"You're so stubborn." You huffed, shoving your face between his shoulder and neck and placing your hand over his heart.

Steve gasped in fake offense. "Don't go searching for my heart rate! That's personal!"

"It's going pretty fast there, Bestie." You smiled, feeling it thunk against your hand before removing it from his chest and sliding it up to his shoulder so you could squeeze him just a little tighter.

"You're not helping, Bud" He admitted, trying his hardest to contain his feelings for you from oozing out through the very loose seams of his heart. The way you were squeezing his body against yours with such a lovely and gentle pressure was not helping it stay in place.

"It's pronounced Bug." You joked again. "It's obvious to me that you're still harboring a lot of guilt and that's half the reason for your anxiety right now, so we're going to stay like this until we talk it through and your hard head softened up enough to realize that I love you, and it makes me sad that you're not feeling great right now."

Steve audibly whimpered and shoved his face into his pillow, hiding away once again. "I just feel bad."

"We've already been over this. All is well."For a few moments, you had a new found sense of guilt. It felt like you had gone way too far in punishing him when it felt as though he was already punishing himself far more than he deserved. "Misunderstandings happen, arguments happen, fights happen, but it's just how the world works and it's a testament to how much we really care about each other. If we didn't care to have each other in our lives then there would be nothing to fight for, right?"

Still in hiding, Steve gently nodded his head.

"I've known you for how long?" You asked.

"Nine months" his muffled voice responded from somewhere between his face and the pillow.

You smiled. "How many days a week have I seen you in those 9 months?"

"Almost everyday, except for the last few weeks" He pouted.

"That's 279 days we've spent together and after every single one of those days, good or bad, I've still chosen to see you, or talk to you, or even think about you. And all of that, all of this has led us to right here, right now. You know why?"

Another grumpy grumble only fueled your fire to complete your mission of soothing the anxious soldier. "Hmm?"

"Because love is unconditional." You stated confidently. "And I can't let anyone I love be somewhere that's making them miserable. That's why you let me go, right? You gave me a chance to leave the compound."

Again, Steve nodded.

"And that's why I can't let you stay here tonight." Your hand squeezed the top of his shoulder. "...are you convinced yet?"

Suddenly, his head popped up "I like hearing you talk so I'm just listening while talking to work up the courage to get out of bed."

Your giggle sounded like heaven so close to his ear as you propped yourself up behind him again. "I had two more tricks up my sleeve, do you want to hear them or are we all good here?"

"I want to hear them"

"Okay the first one was that I was going to use our rooms as metaphors. We could stay here together and be uncomfortable and cold, or we could be cozy together in my warm fuzzy bed but we have to choose to move on."

"So deep and philosophical" Steve grinned. "The second one?"

"Oh the second one is cheap bait. I was going to tell you I have a family size bag of m&m's on my kitchen counter."

"Is that the truth?" He raised an eyebrow, looking back at your face to search for a bluff.

"The whole truth, and nothing but the truth." You confirmed.

"What kind of m&m's?"

One word to seal the deal, you knew it would get him up out of bed and straight into your apartment. "Mini"

"Get off of me, I have important business to attend." Steve joked with a very gentle sense of urgency, shrugging you off of his back.

You let him go and felt a sense of pride when the big beefy soldier got out of bed to follow you.

"Emergency mission?"

"Very important" he agreed, trying not to wince as the cold hair hit his skin again.

"Then put some pep in your step Rogers, we've got a mission to accomplish!"

He giggled and followed you through his room, into the living room and nearly out the front door before he passed a mirror and stole a glance at himself.

Strands of wild blonde hair were sticking out of the front of his hoodie pulled over his head. Socks on his feet, sweatpants, and the very obvious sleep deprivation causing redness under his eyes was not his best look.

"Oh wow, hope the hallways are clear because I'm going to scare people if they see me like this" Steve laughed at his reflection, getting his slippers on his feet.

"Maybe people will start treating you like you're human if they see you in something a little less business casual." You smiled, feeling happy that you got to see the usually put together soldier in such a state.

"I'm accepting it for what it is, because there's no amount of brushing or product in this world that would be able to fix my hair right now." He shrugged, following you out of the door and into the hallways.

"It's cute, you can pull it off."

No longer being able to hide his blushing cheeks from you, he bowed his head to the floor and trailed behind you all the way up to your apartment. His eyes stayed glued to the floor even as you unlocked your front door, he took that moment to fill his lungs with a big breath of air to try and snap out of the anxious daze he was in.

But as the door swung open, a big wave of warm air washed over his body and you took a step aside to let him in first. Only when he stepped into your warm living room did he feel like he could actually breathe again.

The floor felt a little more stable, his legs a little more steady, and the world seemed to have stopped its crashing and burning.

As you locked the front door and kicked off the shoes, Steve looked at your couch and suddenly felt a whole new wave of anxiety over the memories replaying in his head of that very night everything changed all because he sat in that one spot on your couch.

Then he thought of the last time he was here, the anxiety and gut wrenching guilt he felt as he trudged up to your apartment after nobody had seen you for a while, the way his heart dropped into his stomach when he found you asleep in your be-

"Stop thinking." Both your hands reached up and squeezed his shoulders from behind him. "Go to bed."

Immediately snapping out of it, he chuckled at the way you knew him so well before dragging his feet into your room, kicking off his slippers, and burrowing himself underneath your blankets this time.

You walked in a few moments later, bag of m&ms in hand, and a content grin on your face and warmth in your heart at the sight of Steve in your bed. He was already lying on his stomach with his arm above his head, and his head tucked into the ditch of his elbow.

After placing the bag of chocolate on the nightstand, you pulled the blankets over his back and sat next to him.

"Nice and warm?" You asked him, left hand rubbing small circles over his shoulder blade.

"like a marshmallow on a stick" his sleepy voice sounded.

"Cozy?"

"Mhm" Steve nodded.

"Like a bug in a rug!" You enthused, earning his laughter. "I'm happy you're here, Stevie."

"I'm happy that you're here." He turned his head to look at you, big blue eyes twinkling just for you. "A big part of me thought you'd never come back."

You let out a sigh, not being able to come up with much of a good reason why you came back. "Just felt like I had some unfinished business I had to take care of."

"Does that mean you know what you're going to do?"

You knew he was once again asking about your choice in quitting, staying an agent, or becoming an avenger, but you still couldn't quite get the insecure voice in the back of your heart and forefront of you brain to quiet down yet.

"Yeah, but I'm not going to tell anyone until after it's official so nobody tries to get me to change my mind." Your lips pressed together, contemplation turning your smile into a contemplative grin. "So right now I'm going to take a shower as fast as I can so I can get back to the blondie in my bed, then after that I'll probably lay awake all night wondering if I even know how to make good choices for myself."

"Wow, not even me?" Steve faked offense.

"I didn't even tell my Mom" You reassured him. "But I have a meeting with Fury in the morning to make my decision official so, you'll know tomorrow."

"So we're both going to be lying awake all night?"

You chuckled. "No, because I can tell you're exhausted and I already know you're going to fall asleep the second the second I stop engaging you in conversation."

"You're so mean." He smiled, eyes still wide and twinkling.

"Tell me about it." you agreed. "Are you going to be okay if I go shower really quick?"

"Mhm, I'm a big boy." He nodded.

"Okay big boy, you go to sleep, and I'll be right back" You squeezed his shoulder before getting up.

Steve was quick to let the exhaustion close his heavy eye lids, and he focused on emptying his head of it's constant racing thoughts. He listened to the sound of your drawers opening and closing, then the bathroom door closing behind you.

The sound of the shower turning on and the flowing water helped provide some comfort as he realized he finally felt safe and warm again. A lazy smile unintentionally spread across his face when your music followed, but it was playing so low he could barely hear it. One thing he knew about you was that you had to listen to music through completing any task, and you loved to share that music with everyone around you. But right now, it was quiet in consideration of him, and that was far more touching to him that you'd probably ever assume.

But that was just the effect you had on Steve, every little thing you did was so endearing to him and he just couldn't help himself for falling into you as if you were a trap perfectly designed to capture him.

Thoughts of you consumed his mind now, so much so that he slowly started slipping into a dreamy state, that was until not even two minutes after you had left him the bathroom door had opened again and he heard you walking around your room once more.

Assuming you had forgotten something, he paid it no mind. That was until your footsteps approached him, and he heard your voice whispering.

"Stevie?" Your voice was calm and gentle, and the shower was still running. "You still awake?"

"Yeah" his eyes opened again, and eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

"Sorry, I just- I was thinking about our phone call earlier" You started before sitting down next to him again. "It's just not fair so I didn't want you to fall asleep before I had a chance to tell you."

"Not fair?" He questioned sleepily, forcefully blinking to keep his heavy eyes open.

Your nervous tight lipped grin told Steve everything he needed to know. Maybe it was just the lighting in your bedroom, or perhaps anxiety and exhaustion making him hallucinate but he swore he caught a slight blush on your cheeks.

"I can't help but to feel like maybe some of the anxiety or negative feelings you still have are because I haven't given you enough reassurance, and I'm sorry." You tried to read his expression as well as he was reading yours, but you picked up nothing but exhaustion and relief. "You know how much I love you, right?"

A small grin took over his lips and he let his eyes close in contentment, feeling a little too tired and comfortable to keep them awake anymore. But he nodded nonetheless.

"You know that your friendship and support has been a pivotal part of my career and personal growth, and I'll be loyal to you no matter what we go through?"

"I do now" he nodded again.

"Remember how I said we can explore the cute little twinkles in your eyes when things settle?" You started. "You know that's not just because I'm comfortable with it, but because I like you too, right?"

His eyes snapped open and eyebrows furrowed as if you had just set off a bomb in the bed he was sleeping in. "No, that was not made clear."

Steve swore his cheeks got so hot he could feel his heartbeat pulsing through the skin.

"Okay, well now it was!" You said with a calm and enthusiastic attitude that he could never even dream of achieving if a confession like that just rolled off his own tongue. "Glad we had this talk, I'm going to go take a shower now."

He was in pure disbelief as you stood up and walked away. "No insight on that? No further explanation?"

"You're really tired, don't want to bore you with the details." You shrugged with a playful giggle.

"I'm never going to sleep again" He said louder as you got further away.

"I don't believe you! Besides, the shower is running and I don't want to waste water." You pointed out. "I'll be right back!"

The bathroom door closed behind you, locked, then your faced scrunched up as your silently screamed and danced like a teenage girl. That locked door also gave Steve the space he needed to whimper into his elbow and mourn the person be was before his knowledge of your feelings.

You had simultaneously killed the man he once was, and birthed a new version of him. One whose thoughts were far more insufferable than the last, with approximately 4 billion questions to interrogate you with, and also less and more anxiety at the same time.

As promised, you showered quickly and changed into a loose t shirt and tight shorts you worked out in occasionally before making your way back to your bedroom. Tossing your dirty clothes into the hamper, you quietly turned off your bedside lamp leaving the room dark and slowly got into bed where Steve was, now laying on his side facing the middle of the bed.

As you got under the blankets and settled in next to him, you noticed he had taken his hoodie off leaving him in a shirt with his pretty blonde hair to be crazy on its own accord. Feeling happy that he was finally warm and content, you let your head hit the pillow, your body facing his as well.

You couldn't tell if he was asleep or not, but you didn't pay it much mind. Happy to be back with your best friend and in your own bed, time slipped away from you as fast as your conscious.

Unsure how much time had passed, an undeniable cheeky smile spread across your lips when Steve's heavy forearms reached out to you and planted itself on your waist. His touch was tentative and very experimental, your smile widened as you could feel how hesitant he was to let the full weight of his arm rest on you.

To applaud his bravery and encourage good behavior, you placed your hand on his forearm to welcome him to relax and maybe even come a little closer if he felt like it. But he immediately ripped his arm away.

"...sorry" he mumbled quietly.

You reached over to grab his wrist and pull his arm back to right where it was before deciding that you needed to be brave for him. So you moved your whole body closer to his, pulled his arm around you, and you put your arm around him. "I was trying to pull you in, not push you away."

"Sorry again" he chuckled lazily.

You could feel his body relaxed as you tangled your legs with his, and snuggled your face into his chest. How he always managed to smell like a slice of heaven was beside you, but you were happy to reap the benefits.

Tightening his arms around you and nestling his chin into your hair, he felt like there was nothing that could ever get him to give this up. There was no emergency in the world that could pull his mind away from the happiness and comfort he felt in your embrace. Really, nothing was going to hurt him.

"Comfy?" He asked you, voice deep and raspy.

"Snug as a bug in a rug." You confirmed, making him giggle.

"Sweet dreams, Buggy."

"Goodnight, Twinkles." You said, knowing he would hate the nickname you had thought of.

"How dare you" He complained regardless of being able to hear the smile in his voice.

"Sorry, Twinkles. It's stuck now. Nothing I can do to change it."

"If you insist"

You internally celebrated the win. "Love you."

"Love you more."

As the night fell and the morning rose, Steve didn't remember a single thing. He slept like the dead, and woke up in pure bliss the next morning.

He wasn't sure he had ever been so comfortable in his entire life. The two of you weren't really cuddling anymore, but your sweet little face was still facing him, and your arms still held onto each other while your bodies drifted and sprawled out to their own contentment.

Gentle morning light, your calm and gentle breaths, he could've stayed like this forever.

He looked around and noticed you were sleeping on your tummy now, one of your legs were hiked up so your knee was against his thigh, and you had kicked most of the blankets off of yourself in your sleep. Though the heater was on and he wasn't concerned about you being cold, something caught his eye and piqued his interest.

The back of your shirt hiked up and exposed some of the skin on your back. Steve had seen you in a sports bra countless times before, even naked once, but the difference was now your back was covered in a big scar.

He frowned for you, knowing that there was a permanent reminder on your body of the asshole who went out of his way to make your life a living hell. It also left him wondering what his body would look like if it allowed him to hold onto every scar and mark obtained from battle.

Then, your stupid alarm went off and had to ruin everything. Steve tried his hardest not to curse the universe for taking this moment of peace away from him as he grabbed your phone to turn your alarm off.

He gently shook your arm until your pretty eyes blinked open.

"Time to wake up, buggy." He sweetly smiled at you.

You groaned before shoving your face into a pillow. Now it was your turn to be the dramatic one. "Says who? You can't make me"

"Says Fury, your meeting is in an hour." Steve reminded you.

"You make some good points" Your giggle sounded, poking your head back out. "Good morning, Steven."

"Steven?" Steve questioned with an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Yeah, short for Stevenson!" You said matter of factly, prying yourself out of bed and swinging your legs over the side of the mattress.

"Oh right, my full name." Steve agreed with you with all the seriousness in the world. He would stop the world from turning just to entertain your humor.

"Mhm, it's on your birth certificate." You nodded. Still sitting on the edge of your bed, you started thinking about the day ahead of you. "Hey Twinkles, I have a question."

A smile stretched across your face as you could hear his sigh at the nickname that definitely wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "How can I help you, bug." Steve's tone unenthusiastic.

"I just realized I never got my new suit back, so what am I supposed to wear to a meeting with Fury?" You looked back at him fast enough to catch a sneaky smile on his face.

"Oh there is a reason you don't have that back yet, but you don't need it just to see Fury. Wear something nice-ish, you'll be fine."

"And what would that reason be?" You questioned, finally standing up and stretching out your back.

"I guess you'll find out today." Steve shrugged, still laying down, still feeling lazy.

"You boys are exhausting to be around" You joked while disappearing into your bathroom.

Somewhere between you humming along to your music, and your footsteps around your apartment, Steve drifted off again. He wasn't necessarily asleep, but he wasn't really awake either.

Time and space didn't exist in this subliminal place, he was just happy to be around you again. It was the first time since your initial argument together that he had felt truly peaceful, and he intended on soaking in it.

...that was until you threw a pillow at him.

"Hey!" Steve complained, opening his eyes to glare at you. His heart nearly dropped to the floor when he saw how pretty you looked. You had perfectly styled your hair and put on a full face of makeup, while also donning a business casual outfit that suited you perfectly. Out of habit, Steve tried his hardest to hide the fact that he was having heart palpitations. "You are so mean."

"That was payback!" You explained. "I'm leaving now."

"Are you nervous?" Steve asked, trying to get a read on your emotions.

You watched as he finally got up out of bed. "Not really. Should I be?"

"Not really." Steve shook his head with a polite smile. "Should I be?"

You shrugged your shoulders as he approached you. "Not really."

"Good. Then all is well." He opened his arms for you, and you accepted.

Ugh. You even smelled just as good as you looked.

"As much as I'd like to stay here and hug you forever, I don't think Fury would appreciate it if I was late." You smiled against his chest.

"I think he would be mad at me too" Steve agreed with a chuckle and let you go from his arms. "Any chance you'll tell me your career choice right now before the meeting?"

"No, but I'll tell you when I get out" You giggled.

"Far enough" Steve didn't want to push you. "Good luck, Buggie."

"See you later, Twinkles."

Next Part: True Romantic

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[ozwriterchick]

Back to Us - Chapter 3

Summary: Y/n wakes after an accident to her Avengers team-mates. But something isn't quite right and only Steve and Tony can see it.

Characters/Relationships: Steve Rogers x Reader; Tony Stark; Natasha Romanoff; Other Avengers Characters

Content warnings: Mentions of an accident (no details yet); If I missed any, let me know

A/N: If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Not beta'd so any mistakes are my own.

Apologies if the ending is a bit cringey, It will become clearer in future chapters.

Back to Us Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Word count: 1113 (approx.)

1 week later.

You’ve arrived back at the compound with Tony and he shows you up to your room.

“Umm, Tony, what’s going on?” you ask. “This isn’t my room, this is Captain Rogers suite?”

“Oh, yeah, this is closer to the lab and Bruce, so we switched it up a little bit, just for a while.  Rogers was ok with it” Tony replied hesitantly.  “I’ll send Nat & Pepper up to help you get settled and then you just need to call or text any of us if you need anything.”

With that, Tony leaves and closes the door behind him.  You wander around the room checking out all of Captain Rogers things, wondering who else has been this close to the inner workings of Steve’s mind. 

The room is mostly neutral – all browns and beiges and not super masculine you’d decided, but there were some slightly feminine accents here and there.  Lotion on the bedside table, you wouldn’t have picked Steve for a lotion-lover.  Fluffy cushions on the sofa, a little splash of pink here and there.  You thought maybe Steve had a secret girlfriend but as hard as you racked your brain, you couldn’t remember him ever introducing you to anyone.

Meanwhile, the Avengers have all gathered together in the war room.

Tony began “So, Y/n is now home.  You all know about her amnesia/memory issues by now.  We haven’t said anything to her yet so let’s be careful what we say to her until she gets her full memory back.”

“But what if she asks what’s going on, if she realises that it’s been 4 years since that mission?” Nat asked.

“We can cross that bridge when we come to it” Tony continued.  “We’ve put her in their suite, but we told her Steve had agreed to switch rooms because his is closer to the lab.  I think she accepted that, at least she didn’t ask any awkward questions yet.”

Steve stood up and started pacing.  “I’m just worried about her, obviously.  She doesn’t remember any of our relationship, or even that we’re friends it seems.  She’s gone back to calling me Captain Rogers most of the time.”

“I know it’s easy to say Steve but don’t worry.  I’m sure she’ll have her memories back soon.” Nat offered to him, hoping to ease his concerns.  She’d never seen Steve like this in all the time she’d known him.

It upset all of them to Steve so off from his normal confident self.  Steve felt off-centre and always like the room was spinning around him so he could only imagine what you were feeling.  The only blessing he could see is that you didn’t yet know that you had 4 years of missing memories, so you weren’t actually missing them.

Steve nodded at Nat and left to go to see Y/n.  Standing in the doorway, he smiled to himself as you had turned on the TV and had your favourite comfort TV series playing.  Your back was to him so he took some time to just observe you watching and speaking along with the lines of the characters. 

Chandler was your favourite character and you always told him that sometimes he reminded you of Chandler, which for Steve was a huge compliment.  You usually associated yourself more with a mix of Monica and Phoebe, you were a great cook but not entirely as neat-obsessed as Monica and a little more ‘free-flowing’ as you described Phoebe.

Feeling eyes on you, you turn and see Steve in the doorway of the room watching you.  A little embarrassed at being caught watching and saying the lines along with the characters on your favourite show you quickly turned the TV off and angled your body around so you were facing Steve.

“Hey Cap, I’m sorry to have kicked you out of your room.  I really appreciate it though.  I think I’ve got quite a bit of recovery to go and it makes sense for me to be close to Bruce and the Lab.  I hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience for you to be in my room instead.  It’s definitely smaller and not as nice as this.” You blushed a little at the admission.

“I don’t mind Y/n” Steve starts. “I just want you back to perfect health and where you’re meant to be.”  Steve admonished himself silently, he knew you’d pick up on that comment and he hoped you would just brush it aside but no luck.

“What do you mean, where I’m meant to be?” you ask him.

“Oh, nothing, just….” Steve didn’t know how to answer it without telling you everything.

“Steve, tell me what’s going on, please?” you plead with him.  “Everyone has been so great, but I keep getting the feeling there’s something I’m not being told.”

“Maybe we should talk to Tony?” Steve tried to put you off again.

“Dammit Rogers, just tell me what’s going on?” you demanded angrily.  “I’m getting scared that something is seriously wrong and nobody wants to tell me.  Am I dying?” you ask, petrified of the answer.

Steve sits down on the bed next to you, pulling you into a deep hug.  This confuses you, like the almost kiss in the hospital, as you and Cap have never had this kind of relationship before.

“It’s ok Y/n, just stay calm, you’re not dying.” Steve said.

“You promise?” you ask him.

“Promise” he replies, lifting his hand to stroke your hair.

He feels you relax into his embrace and he realises how stressed you were, and he pulls you onto his lap.  His face is closer to you than it’s ever been before.  You felt the urge to kiss him but didn’t want to cross a line, particularly if he had a girlfriend.  But knowing Cap, if he did nothing you did next would matter.

He looks from your lips into your eyes and you look back at him.  If ever this was going to happen, now is when you need it to remind yourself that you are alive and well.

“Cap..” you whisper.

“Y/n…?” he whispered back, more as a question if you’re sure about this.

You nod and he lowers his head and presses his lips to yours.  You feel like there’s something familiar about the kiss, which again confuses you.  You twist your body so you’re straddling his lap and push your hands up under his shirt.  This feels way too fast but at this point, you really can’t stop yourself.

You rock your body against him and say in a husky voice “Take me to bed Cap”

Steve looks at you amazed “Are you sure?”

“100%, Captain.”

Tag List: @wolfbeanpotion @vioplay19 @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @crazyunsexycool @zaraomarrogers @bitchy-bi-trash

[hedgiwithapen]

dhd prompt: eliot leverage and jacob librarians are dopplegangers. somehow they swap places, causing much confusion and hilarity.

(liberties were taken with the prompt) “We really think this Agrinext company’s using magic that’s killing bees? And that’s our priority?” Eve asked. Jenkins gave her a dour look from behind the Clippingsbook.

“Unless you’d rather deal with the doppelganger infestation, yes, Colonel, the company killing bees with a loose magical artifact--or worse-- is the priority.”

Cassandra opened her mouth. Eve winced, knowing she was about to get a patented Cassie Lecture about the interconnectedness of all  creatures, etc etc, and cut it off at the pass. “Right. Bees. Okay, then. Fire up the back door."

~

They split up. They always did; Eve had decided it was inevitable and tried not to fight fate quite so hard on that particular matter.  Jones headed for the server rooms, Cassandra was going to the research and Development area to scan the various chemical compounds with her mind, or...however exactly it was she figured things out. Eve was still a little afraid that if she asked for clarification, she'd get an explanation that would (possibly literally) explode her brain. Stone was supposed to be on distraction, with her. 

And he was. Standing with a dark haired woman and speaking to a receptionist. Looking a lot like he was Flirting with the receptionist.  Eve moved towards him to scold him for wasting valuable time when she spotted...what was Flynn doing here?

"Flynn!" she called, locking eyes with him. Flynn scurried over. 

"Hello!" he said, beaming right into her face. "That's me, Flynn."

Eve took a step back. He wasn't standing right. " Who are you?" she demanded.

"I'm... Flynn." He paused. "Ryder? My associates are--"

"Oh, god," she grumbled. "You don't know me."

"I'm sorry," Flynn said. "I... hit my head recently..."

Eve got on the coms. "Gang, circle back. Whatever this artifact is, it's done something to Flynn."

"Since when is Flynn even here?" Ezekiel whined. "Fine, I'm coming."

The con had been going very smoothly. Of course, when a con was going very smoothly was about the point where suddenly it went very smoothly right off the rails, and into a trash can, which was usually on fire. At least this time, Hardison thought, no one was throwing him into a pool. 

Of course, getting caught breaking into the CEO's office was still bad, especially with a company like Agrinext.  Two armed goons--and it was a seed company! Why did they have goons! It was worse than Wakefield!-- blocked both of his exits, and Hardison was not feeling too great about his ability to jump through a window without breaking all of his bones. 

"Put the hard drive down," one of the goons said. "Slowly."  

Hardison was moving to do exactly that, not taking any chances with the gun pointed at him, when he spotted a familiar face over Goon number 2's shoulder, and breathed a sigh of relief. " It's about time you got here to save my ass," he said. 

Eliot actually froze in place for a second before Goon 2 turned the gun on him and he threw himself at the fight. Hardison ducked back while Eliot took out the two guards.

"Lil sloppy," Hardison said to his panting boy friend. "I like the new moves though. Some Wuxia in there. Don't tell me you've been watching without me and Parker."  When Eliot frowned, Hardison took another step back. He may have mocked his boyfriend being able to tell a violist from a cellist based only on finger calluses and vibes, but  some things really were Distinctive, and this guy--this guy wearing Eliot's face--was not Eliot. "What in the hell kinda mirrorverse did you pop through?" he asked.

"I didn't. Why are you breaking into the CEO's office?"

"I," Hardison said, "Am trying to save the bees." he paused. " And also, you know. Take down a corrupt executive who was profiting off colony collapse caused by weird pesticides."

"It's not the pesticides," not-Eliot said. "It's the stelea of Ah Muzen Cab."

"The what of the who now?" Hardison asked.

"Mayan god of many, many things, including bees."

"Uh-huh." Hardison said. " Kay. You look like my boyfriend and you're acting  a little crazy so I am just gonna take this and... go. Thanks for the punching."

~~

Ezekiel leaned closer to the hidden door in the server room, listening for the latch mechanism as he poked and prodded. He closed his eyes, steadying his heartbeat. One--two... should be three more pins, and--

"Boo!" a voice hissed in his ear as someone dropped from the ceiling to land next to him.

He turned, ready to smack whoever it was with the nearest weapon--which would have been his phone-- but stopped when he saw the blonde hair and the maniac brightness in her eyes.

"Parker?" he asked.

"Zekie!" she beamed. "Look at you! All grown up and cracking safes! You've almost got that one."

"I do have this one," he said, flatly. "I'm the world's greatest thief."

She booped his nose, just like when they'd been kids in the same foster home. "Second greatest, maybe. How's the gig?"

"It's pretty good," he said. "I have a good team. Yours?"

"Solid. Two newbies need some work, but they're getting it. Reminds me of teaching you."

"Excuse me? I already knew how to crack a safe when we met."

"And yet you couldn't tell I'd already gotten into that one. Sad." Parker smiled again.

"You already stole the artifact?" Ezekiel asked. " Parker, I need that."

"Then you should have beaten me to it. It's gotta be worth a lot, to be kept so secret, and if the company's smuggling ... Guatemalan?-- antiquities, we can use that for blackmail."

"It's not an antiquity," Ezekiel said. "It's dangerous." He  pressed his lips together. Eve would say not to tell anyone, Jenkins would rail about the importance of secrets. But Parker was like a sister--and she's helped him out from under MI6's thumb. "It's magic," he said, waiting for her to laugh. 

"Oh," Parker said. "Neat. Hmmm... I'll trade you for it, then." 

"Fine, Ezekiel said. "What do you want for it?" He had plenty of stolen--borrowed--sparklies, plus one of her pokemon cards from when they were kids...

"I heard a rumor you nabbed the dagger of Aquabi," Parker beamed, handing over the tablet she'd swiped. "Give it."

Ezekiel made a face. "Fine. Usual drop off, tomorrow."

"Good to see you, little brother," Parker said, and dove for the airvents as an alarm started to wail.  Ezekiel grumbled again, heading for his own exit.

~

"Stone? There you are." Eliot turned. Stone was a name he'd used a few times, but not today. 

"Sorry," he said, turning on the charm as the redhead beamed at him. "I think you have me confused with someone else."

"That's... not right," she said. "You look...." and then she started muttering under her breath, fingers flickering in front of her like she was shifting through information. It reminded him a little of Parker, and a little of Hardison. "Just like him but you're not him. I'm sorry. My bad."

"That's alright. You know, they say we've all got seven doubles."

"They do," she said, oddly flat. Eliot turned to look where she was looking, and froze.

He wondered, a time or two, or three, if he was being honest, what he'd do if ever he saw his own face on someone else.  It hadn't been that litteral, as a kid, which was the last time he'd thought about it. What he'd do if he recognized the mirror of his smile, his eyes, the crease above his brow when he frowned. He'd looked for it in older people, not his age. Someone old enough to be the person who'd left him.

This man looked like he could have been left in the basket beside him. 

"who are you?" they both asked in the same voice, at the same time, before an alarm started to blare.

Well. Eliot had carried questions as long as he'd known the difference between knowing and not.  He could carry them longer. Getting his people out mattered more. 

~

"Jenkins," Eve said, back in the Annex. "What were you saying earlier, before we left? About clones?"

"Doppelgangers, actually," Jenkins said. "Why?"

"Because I found one of Flynn," Eve said, holding up a bewildered look-alike.

Jenkins frowned. " That's impossible. I fixed the issue moments after you left, it was really quite simple."

"Then someone kidnapped Flynn and stole his memories!" Eve said. 

"That's news to me," Flynn  said, leaning over the raining from the stacks. " Hi Eve! Who's that?"

"Oh my god," Eve said again, as reality--actual reality-- sunk in. "I just kidnapped a civilian." 

"If it helps I don't think I'm technically a civilian. Harry Wilson, lawyer and, uh... you know lets just stick with lawyer, actually. Uh. not the suing you kind, though. I just...really should get going? maybe? If I can... just..." he wiggled out from under Eve's hand. 

Above, Flynn hooted with laughter. 

[mae-lou-ron]

A Little Kindness, pt. 1

Summary: It’s been a few months since Crosshair and his family returned from Tantiss for the last time. Settling into civilian life hasn’t been easy, but one Pabu resident shows Crosshair some kindness that makes him want to try.

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader

Warnings: social anxiety/awkwardness (aka awkward budding friendship between two traumatized puppies), internal berating, grumpy soft crosshair dealing with ptsd-related stuff but nothing specific, non-descript mentions of injuries treated, fanon typical swearing.

Word Count: 2,400

A/N: thank you to everyone who read A Friend Indeed. I really enjoyed writing the brotherly dynamic between Crosshair and Wrecker in that one. It was honestly an outlet for me to process some of my own stuff, and I appreciate all the encouragement and kind comments. I’m continuing Crosshair’s journey in learning how to heal and even maybe enjoy that Pabu life a little. I’m thinking I’ll make a little anthology series of these because I’ve got a lot of Crosshair fluff cooking up in this goblin lair of a brain. Part 2 to currently underway. A song I listened to quite a bit while writing this was State of the Art by Incubus. Proofread by me.

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

Crosshair strode down the sandy path, his eyes periodically scanning the star-studded sky. He inhaled the night air, surprisingly crisp for the island now that the sun had set, giving way for the moon to rise. Its blue-tinted glow bathed the island, ushering in the evening sounds that helped quiet his overactive mind. He would often walk these paths at night, aiming for nowhere in particular, just letting his feet decide where he would go.

As he turned down the path that led to the compound of small homes shared with his family, he heard their voices spilling from open windows. They sounded upbeat and cheerful. The sing-song lilt of Omega's voice suggested someone else was there—a visitor. Crosshair inwardly cringed. Still new to civilian life, he wasn't overly fond of visitors—especially those who showed up unannounced, regardless of their self-proclaimed important reasons.

In situations like this, he couldn't help but notice how his siblings were adapting to life on Pabu much more easily than he was. People had a tendency to baffle him. But the others, Wrecker and Omega especially, seemed to really enjoy getting to know anyone and everyone. As Crosshair got closer, he recognized a voice in the mix of conversation, which nearly made him stop in his tracks.

He exhaled softly, a flush creeping up his neck. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears when he heard your laughter ring out. Why does it have to be her? The thought of walking past the compound and continuing down the hill to the beach was very tempting. He wasn't in the mood for other people right now, least of all you.

It definitely had absolutely nothing to do at all with the fact that he was always putting his foot in his mouth when you were around. You set him on edge like no one he'd met before, though not necessarily in a bad way. He quite liked you actually, but you'd probably never know it from his behavior.

Not to mention your last encounter on his walk a few nights ago. When you called to him from your porch, asking for his help with something out of your reach. He froze, thoughts swirling, and all he could manage to do was scowl despite his desire to assist. He hesitated, realizing it was a task you could likely manage yourself. But you asked, and the look in your eyes had his feet leaving the path and taking the small steps to your patio where you stood on a chair. Though you appeared steady, his hand instinctively hovered near the middle of your back. Maintaining his usual stern expression, he held the awning in place while you secured it.

You thanked him with a warm smile, and without thinking he offered you his arm as you stepped down. You accepted with another gentle smile, your hand resting lightly on his forearm, the warmth from your touch lingering even after you let go. You took a step backwards to admire your work. "That should do," you murmured before turning your attention back to him. "It might be a bit stormy tonight," you added, crossing you arms over your chest. You both glanced up at the clouds that had started filtering into the sky on the horizon. The bright moon made it easy to see them rolling across the water.

"Are you warm enough?" you asked, looking up at him and rubbing your arm as the wind picked up. "I've got some extra tunics or ponchos somewhere in here, if you'd like one… Oh, do you like tea? I just put some on…." You rambled, taking another step back towards your door, offering a welcoming smile. The breeze swirled again and carried the scent of your hair—or perhaps perfume—to Crosshair, and he felt drawn to accept your offer. Yet his apprehension rose, and his "no, thanks" came out quick and terse. He couldn't even recall if you said anything after he retreated, berating himself as he walked away. Before your house disappeared from view, he glanced back over his shoulder, only to find you'd already gone inside, leaving him with another twinge of regret.

But you were here now, and he couldn't really get to his part of their home without being at least noticed by Hunter. Kriff. He swore inwardly and steeled himself for the onslaught of attention that would be cast his way as soon as he crossed the threshold.

"Crosshair! You're back!" Omega rushed over as he appeared in the doorway. His sister beamed up at him, her cheeks flushed and eyes shining with excitement. "How was your walk?"

“It’s too close to bedtime to be getting all wound up, don’t you think?” he said to his sister and glanced at you, who was regarding him warily. Omega rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, pulling him fully into room.

“Nope! But look what we just got!” she smiled, pointing to the table in the near center. You were there standing next to Wrecker with an amused look on your face. Crosshair scowled, gesturing to the pile of neatly folded ponchos on the table before them, one for each of them. "What do we need these for?" He chided himself mentally the moment the words made it past his lips.

"Duh, because it gets cold at night here during some parts of the rotation," Wrecker said matter-of-factly, as if it wasn't something he had just learned a few minutes ago himself. He nudged you gently with his elbow, which made you blush slightly. The exchange made Crosshair's eye twitch. What was wrong with him? He wasn't exactly proud of how your previous encounters had gone, and this one wasn't looking like it would be all that great either, but seeing you react to Wrecker like that… he liked that even less.

"It really does… I… didn't have a whole lot when I came here, but Lyanna brought me a couple of these not too long after. Total lifesaver," you beamed at Omega who was excitedly unfolding one to throw over her head. It had hues of blue and brown fibers threaded together. "They make them right here on the island. It might be a little big on you now but you'll grow into it," you grinned at the young girl as you adjusted the seams at her shoulders, letting the garment fall into place.

"I really like it," Omega smiled, giving a little twirl that made the fabric fan out around her. "Thank you," she added warmly before wrapping one of her arms around you in a half hug.

"Anytime, kiddo," you smiled down at Omega, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before she turned to Wrecker to show him. When you looked up, Crosshair was regarding you with that severe look on his face, like it was actually causing him physical pain to be in your presence. You decided to take your leave, sensing the mood had shifted and not wanting to overstay your welcome.

"Well, I'll leave you all to it, then. I've got an early start tomorrow anyway," you said, your voice light and kind. Their words of thanks met your ears as you retreated towards the door, causing your lips to quirk up in a smile as you walked by Crosshair. However, he swore the spark he saw in your eyes when he first entered the room had dimmed a little. Good job, di'kut.

Crosshair opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but no words came, instead he just gave you a tense nod of his head before looking at the floor.

"Goodnight, everyone," you said softly before closing the door behind you with a gentle click.

“Way to kill the fun, Crosshair,” Wrecker teased after a long moment, roughing his brother’s shoulder as he walked past him into the kitchen, shooting a wink at Omega.

A heavy silence settled over the room. Without looking up, Crosshair knew Omega and Hunter were staring at him, their arms undoubtedly crossed and their faces wearing that annoyingly stern expression. Great. It meant they were about to gang up on him.

"Crosshair..." Omega said with a gentle reproach only she could get away with. He still hated it, though. "The people here are kind. She's just trying to help us feel at home. She understands what it's like, remember?”

Crosshair set his jaw, struggling to untangle the swirl of self-doubt and self-deprecation in his mind. "I know that," he said softly, fully aware that you, too, had sought refuge on Pabu to escape the Empire not all that long ago.

"I also think she likes you,” Omega whispered conspiratorially. “Like actually likes you…"

"I can't imagine why…" Hunter muttered, leaning into the doorframe. Crosshair narrowed his eyes at him in return, taking a wooden pick from his pocket and placing it delicately between his teeth. “You act like she’s a thermal detonator or something,” Hunter rumbled, smirking.

Omega rolled her eyes and glared at Hunter before turning back to Crosshair, whose expression only continued to sour the longer he was being put on the spot. "Don't listen to him," Omega insisted, but Hunter's words gnawed at the part of Crosshair's mind that had already questioned the same thing. Yet, Omega saw through his trademark scowl, regarding him with affection and gentle reproach.

Crosshair sighed, eyes softening as they returned to Omega. He still couldn't pinpoint the exact moment this kid had wrapped him around her finger, but glancing at Hunter's face, he knew his brother shared the same thought. Crosshair rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. Hunter's eyes simply darted between the two of them—no words were necessary.

After a long pause, Crosshair huffed, "Fine—I'll… go talk to her." He winced at the thought. "What do I even say?" he said to the room, his jaw tight, shoulders slumping slightly at the discomforting thought.

"Well—I think you might like her too, Crosshair…" Omega offered gently, "…so maybe start with something simple like 'thank you for the new clothes' or 'I'm sorry for being such a cold wet blanke—'" Hunter coughed to interrupt her, and his chuckling.

"Going," Crosshair held his arms up in surrender, slinking towards the door you had just exited a few moments ago.

"Cross," Hunter said as he followed him to the door, handing him a dark green one from the pile. Silent communication passed between the brothers. Crosshair eventually nodded and slipped the soft material over his head, adjusting it to drape evenly over his shoulders.

It was pretty comfortable, he had to admit.

The scents Crosshair had grown to associate with you still lingered on the fabric—warm and spicy but soft with a hint of something like chamomile. He took a deep breath, allowing it to hang on the end of his senses, pulling up fleeting images of you in his mind that gave him a strange fluttering in the pit of his stomach.

You were one of the first people here to show him genuine kindness. A series of gestures from you that had actually quite startled him at the time.

He could still recall every detail of that first encounter months ago. The landing pad on Pabu bustled with medically inclined residents and clone troopers as they returned from Tantiss. Your welcoming smile and guarded eyes greeted him as you offered your arm to help him onto an awaiting cot; he didn't take it, but you held it there nonetheless. Panic suddenly rose in his throat at losing sight of his siblings, but it subsided when he spotted Omega and Emerie tending to Wrecker nearby—who was indeed badly injured. Only after Echo lowered Hunter into the adjacent cot did Crosshair warily allow you to examine his injuries. You seemed to understand his hesitance, asked for his name, told him yours, carefully explaining each step and always seeking his permission before proceeding—a gesture that was both deeply appreciated and deeply unfamiliar to him.

Since then, he's been struggling to find a way to show his gratitude for that moment, and all of your unexpected kindness after. Every time he tried, the words caught in his throat—nothing he could think of seemed adequate enough to express it. Parsing through the complexity of his feelings often made it difficult for him to speak. He found himself caught between wanting to open up and his instinct to maintain distance. Crosshair knew he needed to find a way to bridge this gap, but he had no idea how. And the idea of being hit with any sort of rejection from you also gnawed at him.

"You look great," Omega grinned up at him, shaking him from his thoughts. Hunter gave him an encouraging clap on the shoulder before pushing Crosshair back into the crisp evening air.

The air was more comfortable now with the added layer. The gentle breeze that wove its way through the streets and staircases gently tugged on the fabric as he walked. Looking at it more closely, it was different shades of green, and like Omega's, it was woven into a pattern that blurred one color into the next. He trudged the path to your neighborhood—lost in thought, wracking his brain for what he was going to say.

But when he arrived, the house was dark—it seemed you weren’t home.

Crosshair hesitated, contemplating his options. He brought his hand to the door but decided against knocking. He considered leaving a note but dismissed the idea quickly, as he had nothing to write with. He had no idea what he'd put down anyway. With a frustrated sigh, he turned and began walking aimlessly down the winding path.

Reluctant to return home immediately, Crosshair continued to where the houses grew sparse, eventually discovering sprawling patches of wildflowers. He vaulted over a crumbling stone wall and gathered a handful of blooms in various types and colors. As he walked back, he bundled the vibrant flowers as best he could, using his teeth and a loose thread from the poncho's hem. Upon returning to your door, he gently placed the makeshift bouquet on the chair you'd climbed onto the other night.

As he took a few steps back, he could only hope this small gesture might convey his intent better than any fumbling words he could muster right now. With a quiet hum, he finally turned and walked back towards home. Maybe he'd figure out what to say by the time he saw you again.

[cinnamonest]

Head empty no thoughts just daydreaming about incel scara with groupmate/project member!reader

Imagine them sitting together in a library. They need to be close to share one screen and go over everything while one or the other does some explaining. And scara is just DISGUSTED by her very clearly, very obviously whorish behavior aka her casually jutting her chest, pouting/biting her lips, getting close to him when she needs to lean, when she bends over away from or next to him, he can see her cleavage if he tries hard enough, or see her skirt ride or her lower back getting exposed and if he moves juuuuust a bit closer he can touch her boobs-

Just outright disgraceful and shameless behavior typical of the female 😤 and no, that's not his boner wdym. And reader is just earnestly trying to understand what he's trying to say because he seems so indifferent and almost looks as if dislikes her.

Ahhh it must be because he's annoyed, this isn't her subject after all. In which case, ALTERNATIVELY- consider CS major scara with darling in some non-STEM field passively calling her dumb and insulting her intelligence whenever they come to "study" because: what? She doesn't know how to install Windows? Ha

Only reason she has a decent gpa is because you don't actually need brains or talent for those art "subjects" and they are more suited to females anyway because it's not like they contribute much to society or are very intelligent, unlike him-

I remember my university had these little rooms in their library that were basically tiny study rooms with a couch and chairs, but like no windows, and were advertised as two-way soundproof to help you study and let me tell you. Y’all. People had sex in those. A lot. It happened a lot.

But the thing is they had no tables with desk-type chairs, only like coffee tables and lounge chairs, so if you wanted to work with someone else on something you kinda had to use the sofa which could be very awkward. Anyway

Oh he's absolutely a STEM snob that looks down on humanities majors. They’re for people with no real skills, who lack the ability to do more important stuff… or God forbid, you're a fine arts major of some kind. Very typical girl stuff, they waste money on useless degrees because they insist on having equally useless jobs. You’re probably going to be a future HR person, getting random guys fired for harmless comments and such.

So he always talks to you in such a condescending way, as if the things he’s explaining are so very obvious or simple that it’s a chore to explain it to you. You need to be aware of how intellectually inferior you are.

Also he’s one of those boys for whom “disgusted” is really just turned on, he lacks the ability to distinguish it — like it’s arousing, but it’s irritating that it’s arousing because he can’t do anything about it, so he identifies that feeling as disgust when it’s really just unbearable levels of sexual frustration compounded with bitterness. Ugh.

And as for you, it has to be intentional. You know what you're doing. It's on purpose. You just think it's funny or amusing to torment someone who can't do anything about it. In a fair world, you'd pay for your actions somehow.

And maybe you're even getting good grades in exchange for "favors." That makes sense, it's the only way that explains how you remain enrolled really. Maybe you'll eventually do the same for him, try to get him to do work for you in exchange for something. Not that that would work, he would never ever enable you like that, and definitely has the self-control necessary to reject you.

There’s something so wrong with how things are, that this situation can even arise, that you’re allowed to waste so much money and time on your dumb degree when you have better uses. He’ll probably go home and make some long vent post to some niche corner of the internet about the woes of having to tolerate this situation. Tragic.

[cressidagrey]

Indelible Scars - Chapter 8

Summary:

Azriel knew pain. So did Galena.

Also known as: Azriel’s mate is a healer and the first time they meet, he nearly dies on her.

Warnings:

People being idiots, Rhys bashing, broken bones, discussion of medical decisions

(thanks to @cafekitsune for the super pretty dividers!)

She had hoped that the antidote would be enough to get the fever to lower at least a little bit, to let him come awake in some sense…but even as she poured the third dose of it down her mate’s throat, Galena could feel his skin underneath her fingertips burn with fever. 

Still not anywhere close to his normal range.

He rested easier and by now, his magic easily let itself be cradled by hers, though she wasn’t sure if that wasn’t just pure exhaustion from him…or maybe it was that his shadows kept watch over them all. 

Nesta had disappeared because at least one of them should have had more than catnaps during that night. The General fell asleep against that overstuffed armchair, mouth open, lightly snoring, and she badgered the shadows into covering him with a blanket. 

She was sure that he would immediately wake up if she approached if only because she had no chance to be silent with a constant limp and the help of her cane. But the shadows could do it. 

Galena was also treated to the view of Cassian nearly falling off said overstuffed armchair when another cough of Azriel’s woke him up from his sleep. 

The Lord of Bloodshed seemed to be nothing more than just a male at all. 

Galena kept busy checking the levels of Azriel’s blood, which slowly turned into something that was no longer a fucking mess, but still not good. 

She was going to have to put him on so many potions to even get him anywhere close to where he should be. Broadband vitamins especially. 

Still, the fever stayed. 

As Nesta came to check on them the next morning, she took the third vial of blood that day and tested it once again. 

The compounds were gone. 

But that wasn’t the only surprise she found. 

The curse that left her mouth would have made Aunt Madja wash out her mouth with soap, she was certain of that. 

“What?” Cassian demanded immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“He has faebane in his system,” Galena hissed. Faebane. Granted just minute traces but enough to keep his fever going, enough that the infection in his lungs had something to latch onto…enough to weaken him…“I didn’t recognise it at first because it’s just traces.“

“Somebody poisoned him?” Nesta snapped. “When?” 

Galena shook her head. “I don’t know, it’s… It’s weak…It’s…”

Something… niggled at the edges of her brain, the shadows swirled worried, having rushed over to her at her outburst. 

Master wasn’t poisoned. We would have sensed that… They assured her. 

But if he wasn’t poisoned…Where did the faebane come from…

She pulled back the duvet that was tucked around him, a comment from Cassian suddenly tugging at her mind. The one thing was that he got some bruises on his chest, but that was it.

Bruises…

They were still there. They should have healed by now, especially if he had used some of the Bruise Balm she made. They should have…

“He got them around two, three weeks ago,” Cassian explained as she stared at them, willing them to tell her what was going on…

She reached out to touch, feeling his chest rise and fall with his breathing…

She wasn’t even sure what she was searching for…maybe to assure herself that he was alive, that…her fingertips weren’t particularly sensitive on a good day, so it wasn’t like she was probably going to actually feel if there was…

And then her fingers tripped over a scar right between two ribs…

“Ash Bolt to his chest,” Cassian answered quietly. “But that was years ago.” 

“Madja removed it?” she asked carefully and he nodded, realisation dawning on his face. 

“You think it was dipped in faebane?” he asked curiously. 

“I think it was filled with that…and think my Aunt didn’t remove all of it,” she admitted quietly. “Just a shard…it healed, probably encapsulated…and then he got hit in the chest, fractured the shard…faebane got into his system once again…”

She couldn’t prove it. It was a theory. But it was the only one that made sense to her. 

“What do we do now?” Cassian asked her, crossing his arms. 

“Do you want to hear what I would do or what Madja would suggest?” Galena asked with a sigh. 

It would be two drastically different things. 

“You would do two different things?” Nesta asked, curious. 

“We take very different approaches,” Galena admitted. “Mine tend to be more aggressive…more on the experimental sides. Hers would be…traditional and proven.” 

One wasn’t better than the other, in Galena’s opinion. But still…

She looked at her mate, at his still form in that bed…and Galena knew what she wanted to do. She knew that she wouldn’t have a fucking night of peace until she was sure that he didn’t have a nightmare attached to a countdown in his chest when she didn’t know when that clock would run out. 

“You would open him up and take it out,” Cassian said quietly. She just nodded.

“I would prove my hypothesis,” she agreed. “The shadows are sure that he wasn’t poisoned and the only way for him to get faebane into his system would be if it has already been present before. So yes. I would reopen the scar…flush it out.”

“And Madja?”

“Madja would give him an antidote, leave it be, fill him to his gills with potions and wait until he wakes up and can make that decision himself,” she said evenly. “One option isn’t particularly better than the other. Both have arguments for and against it,” she said quietly. “Who’s his next of kin?” she asked because that was a decision that they couldn’t make without consulting them. 

“Doesn’t really work that way for him,” Cassian said with a sigh. ”He has two half brothers but I would rather drive my sword through them than consult them on any detail of his medical care.”

Right. 

“So…You?” Galena suggested. He stared at her. 

“I can’t make that decision alone,” Cassian said, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“So you and… and somebody else?” she suggested. 

“Rhys. Mor. Amren,”  he said with a decisive nod. 

“Then I think you should get them in here,” Galena said carefully. “Madja and Zoreen said they would be back this morning. You’ll get to hear all about how my idea is a horrible idea soon enough.” She wasn’t bitter when she said that. 

It was just…her Aunt and Galena had vastly different approaches and her aunt believed that she needed to fogto the Personal Cost because she preferred to stay in the stillroom than be stared at by random people in the street. 

Or something like that. 

It took less than an hour until Cassian had somehow pulled together who he wanted to have, as Madja and Zoreen arrived…her aunt checking over her work like she still tended to do to this day. 

Some things would never change. 

“Good job, little mouse,” her aunt that softly, a hand placed on her shoulder. The childhood nickname made something in her tighten. “So what is the problem?” 

She opened her mouth in response, but by then Cassian spilt into the room, followed by a…very bruised-looking High Lord, who was moving rather gingerly…a bright blonde beauty that she knew to be The Morrigan…and a small, dark-haired female with startling grey eyes. Which meant that that must be Amren.

“She’ll explain it better than I can,” Cassian said at that moment, waving to her. She steeled herself for the glances she knew she was going to get, staring at the wall somewhere beyond the three newcomers because she really wasn’t…she couldn’t deal with that right now.

Not running on a few hours of sleep and the worry churning in her gut. 

“Would you like some Pain Relief Potion, High Lord?” Her aunt asked, sounding somewhere between amused and exasperated. He opened his mouth to respond but The Morrigan was quicker.

“No. I want him to learn his lesson,” The Morrigan hissed between her teeth. 

“Every time I heal the bruises, she just gives me more,” the High Lord gave back drily. 

“Mor,” Cassian said with a sigh. “Give him some Pain Relief Potion, please,” he said with a wave of his hand. “And maybe fix the nose I broke as well when you are already at it…” he mumbled under his breath. 

“What's wrong with Az?” The Morrigan demanded at that moment, immediately coming to his bedside. 

She was beautiful. Even more beautiful than Galena had ever imagined her to be, with flowing blonde hair and warm brown eyes…Beauty a war would be fought over. 

And clearly…clearly she doted on Azriel. 

“He has faebane in his blood,” Galena answered quietly, resulting in a gasp coming from her. 

“Faebane?” The High Lord repeated, sounding incredulous. 

“Yes,” she agreed. “The shadows have assured us that he wasn’t poisoned recently. Which leads me to the conclusion that the faebane has already been in his system for longer.” 

“Explain, Galena,” her aunt demanded. “What’s your thought process?”

“Two weeks ago, he was injured. There are still bruises on his chest,” she explained. “They should be healed by now. They are not. Naturally quick healing slowed down by the faebane. A few years ago he got an ash bolt to his chest…” she trailed off leadingly. 

“Yes. I removed it. He was fine,” her aunt agreed. 

“Did you remove the whole thing in one piece?” Galena asked pointedly.

Her aunt met her gaze, shook her head, eyebrows furrowing. “No, it shattered when I removed it. You know ashwood. It’s notorious for splintering apart if it gets wet,” she explained. “I…there was faebane on that…” she said thoughtfully. 

“I think you missed a splinter.”

Her aunt blinked at that. 

“I cleaned out the wound. Twice,“ she pointed out with a huff. 

“I think there is a splinter inside him,” Galena repeated. “You plied him with potions, sewed him up… I think it was fine, it healed. He got punched with enough force on the chest…the splinter broke apart…probably cut something inside him. The faebane that was on it went back into his system…That made it easy for the infections in his lungs to take root.” 

“Her reasoning is sound,” Zoreen agreed. “There is no way he got it from somewhere else?”

“It’s trace amounts,” Galena said. “If somebody tried to poison him, they would use more…”

“What do you want to do?” Zoreen asked, looking at her leadingly. 

She took a deep breath. She knew her aunt wouldn’t like this. “I want to open him up and remove the splinter,” she said carefully.

Her aunt wasn’t the only person who didn’t like that scenario. A gasp came from The Morrigan, Cassian looked like he had swallowed poison, the High Lord was staring at Azriel…Amren was staring at her. 

“Galena,” her aunt said sharply. “We are talking about a living and breathing person and not about one of your books. We are not talking about you mixing some mirthroot and lavender in the stillroom and seeing what happens. We are talking about a living being.  Best case scenario, you find nothing. You want to cut into his torso, carve him up for the off chance that you are right!” 

It cut that the person that knew her best, thought that she just wanted to do this for research. That she hadn’t thought this through. And she had thought this through. Of course, she had. She would never risk someone’s life until she had no choice, unless she was sure of what she was doing… 

“I want to take a calculated risk, to remove something from his body that has the potential of being enormously harmful,” she said carefully. 

Still, she could feel that not everybody was agreeing with her. Rather the opposite to be completely honest. 

“What would you do, Madja?” The High Lord asked. 

“Give him the antidote for faebane over a longer period. A few weeks,” Madja said immediately. 

“It would make him miserable. Probably unconscious and unresponsive,” Zoreen cut in. 

“It would be safer,” Madja disagreed. 

“And you want to leave a potential splinter of ashwood in his chest?” Galena asked quietly. Just leave it there? 

“As long as it doesn’t give him any more problems, yes .  We don’t even know if there is actually ashwood anywhere inside him!”

They didn’t know. They just had a theory, a hypothesis, but no actual proof. 

“I can’t make that decision alone…” Cassian said quietly. “So what do you say?”  

“What do you want to do, Cassian?” The High Lord asked him. 

“Remove it,” Cassian said immediately. 

One in her corner. One. 

“It’s a risk. Can his body stand that, even weakened like it is?” The Morrigan asked, big brown eyes still worriedly staring at Azriel. “What if… 

“The risk is high that his heart is just going to stop,” Madja agreed. Galena didn’t.  

“He’s in his prime and his body is at a peak of physical fitness. Even weakened from the infection, he still is strong ,” she disagreed. “He fought me tooth and nail at first to get his magic to calm down,” she muttered under her breath. 

“If we don’t do it, we could just weaken him more,” The High Lord pointed out reasonably. “Amren?” 

“You are all forgetting one thing,” the slight female said, her voice bone dry.

“What?” Cassian demanded. 

“That none of you have any right to make that decision for him when his mate is right there.”

No. No. No, no, no, no, no…

She was waiting for an explosion. She stared everywhere but at the male still lying unconscious in the bed. At everything but the High Lord, even when she could feel the tremors running through her, could feel the shadows that had settled into Azriel’s shadows come to her side, curl themselves around her hands…ready to defend her from…something. 

Curling themselves around her hands and holding on. 

“Amren, what…” The High Lord started, but Amren was just staring at her. Galena finally met her gaze, feeling how her body seemingly started shaking as she could feel every eye in that room on her.  

“I can smell it on you, girl,” Amren said pointedly. “It’s all over you. I am surprised that Rhysand hadn’t yet picked it out of your head, but maybe you just have very strong mental shields. I just have one question: Any specific reason why you haven’t said a thing about it?”

She swallowed. No words wanted to come out of her throat. 

And then there was Aunt Madja. 

“Galena,” she said, her name…sounding scandalised. 

“It snapped the moment I first saw him,” her voice was broken, and it felt like her throat was closing around shattered glass as she forced out these words. 

“You…” Cassian whispered and she closed her eyes because she couldn’t look at him. Because she couldn’t…she couldn’t look at anybody. 

Her chest felt like it was caving in. 

She didn’t…She hadn’t planned on anybody finding out. She had been planning on saving Azriel and then disappearing back into her Stillroom, and never coming out again. 

That’s what she had wanted. That’s what she had…that’s what she had planned on. She hadn’t wanted to ever tell him. Tell anybody. She had never wanted anybody to find out. It was her secret. She had been ready to take it to the grave with her. 

“Why didn’t you say something ?” The General asked her, and she wasn’t even sure how she forced out the next words. 

“Because I wasn’t going to let it snap for him.” She wasn’t. 

He should have been able to live his life without… without even being bothered by the knowledge of what she was to him. It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t after to hi. He had a whole life and friends and family and she…she just…she was nothing but deadweight to him. Nothing but something he would feel obligated to…nothing but…

“Why?” The General demanded, sounding…furious and utterly…despaired and…

“Cassian,” The High Lord warned but Galena didn’t even hear that when her head snapped up. 

“Why?” she echoed. “Look at him,” she said with a wave to Azriel. “And then look at me! Why should a male like him want me ?” she spat out, and suddenly it all welled up inside her. Like a wave crashing against the shore and it burst out of her mouth, without her being able to stop anything.

“Galena…” her aunt said but she didn’t care. 

“I can’t even walk over the market without people staring, without them making their smart little quips that they think I can’t hear. But I can,” she spat. “And I can stand it from everybody around me, how they stare at me, with disgust and pity and shame for something that I had nothing to do with. I was a child  when I got these scars. And I hate people for it, but I can’t do anything against so I do nothing . I live through it. I let them stare at me and talk behind my back and I buy the freaking tomatoes because that’s what you want from me, Aunt Madja, and I hate every fucking second of it!”

Madja stared at her wide-eyed.  

“They just need to get used to you, Little Mouse.” 

The words that had haunted her since her childhood. They just need to get used to you. Said every day before she went to school when she sat through hours of the younglings her age staring at her like she was some kind of exotic animal. 

Said every time she was expected to go to that market…and the people still stared, even when now she was grown up and had a job and was good at her job…whatever she did…it was never enough to make the people stop staring at her. 

Never enough. 

“They had over one and a half centuries to get used to me,” she whispered, staring at her aunt. “They haven’t gotten used to me, they won’t get used to me and I am so…I am so tired of it,” she admitted, tears leaking out of her eyes, but she didn’t care. “But even if they do stare…I don’t know them…not many of them. So what does it matter, right? I go back to the Stillroom and I bury myself in my work and I am good at my job! Fuck it, I am brilliant! I am! And I don’t forget the personal cost, even when you think I do! I think about it every damn day!”

Her chest heaved as the words poured out of her, decades of pent-up unfairness streaming out of her.  

“And still…every time I look in the mirror…I hate the person who stares back. I hate the scars. And if I could rip off every inch of my skin, I would.  I hate that they remind me…that they remind me of the male that tried to kill me and that my mother still chose over me. I hate…I hate them! They are ugly and they make my heart hurt!”

“Galena… They don’t matter,” Madja told her, brown eyes filled with tears. “They don’t matter, Little Mouse. You are…”

“They matter to me!” She snapped, desperation bleeding into her voice . “ You don’t see them every time you look into a mirror! You don’t understand! They don’t hurt you, every day! They don’t make people look at you like you aren’t even a Fae! Like you are something different, a monster ! People see them and they don’t see me! And that’s…I can survive it. I don’t like it but I can survive that.” 

Her voice broke at the last word. She could survive that. If it was somebody that she didn’t know…it still hurt but…she could survive that. But she couldn’t...  

“But him? My mate ? The one person that’s supposed to love me? He’ll stare at me with disgust and pity and I can’t…I can’t…I can’t stand that . I don’t ever want him to look at me. To see me. Because I won’t survive if he stares at me like they do. I don’t want to survive if he does!”

It burst out of her, the words spilling over even as the sobs built in her chest, as she wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the floor and curl herself into a ball and never, never see anybody, be anybody ever again. 

She wanted…she wanted…she…

“Galena,” her aunt said softly, a hand landing on her shoulder, but she flinched, her bad leg spasm, and she nearly hit the floor, if the shadows hadn’t rightened her at the last possible moment, before anybody could do anything about it, before…

“Let me,” said a rough voice that she had heard so often over the last days, as broad hands lifted her, and settled her on the chair she had spent so much time on. 

“Listen to me,” Cassian said as he kneeled before her, as he peeled her hands from her face, ignoring the scars that marred them, holding them in a pair of calloused hands, even as she shook like a leaf. 

“He deserves better than me,” Galena whispered. He did. So much better. And she couldn’t even give him the fault if he did stare at her like she was a monster, because…

“Look at me,” Cassian said fiercely and waited until her eyes lifted and she looked at him. “Azriel isn’t awake, so I am going tell you what I know he would tell you if he could ,” he told her pointedly. “He. Won’t. Care.” He punctuated every word. “I swear to you. He will not care,” Cassian repeated, wiping away her tears. “He has waited centuries for you. And you really think that a couple of scars are going to make him turn you down?” he told her sharply and she swallowed. 

“You don’t know that,” she croaked out. 

She couldn’t…She squashed the warm hope that was growing in her chest. 

Cassian just snorted. 

“I have known my brother for 5 centuries. I know him, Galena. I swear to you, he will not care,” he repeated again. But when he saw the look on her face, he sighed. “Care to weigh in, shadows? Make yourself useful for once?” he asked, the shadows that still swirled around her. 

Your scars match Master’s scars. Master’s scars match yours. He hates them as well.  They told her, gently rubbing through her hair, gently ghosting against her face, against her tears... You should tell us who hurt you. We’ll take care of them. They promised her vengeance. 

“He’s dead,” The High Lord said calmly. 

Her breath caught in her throat at these simple words, at the pitch black darkness in these words. 

If shadows could harrumph they would have done it, she was quite sure. 

Did he suffer? The shadows demanded. 

“It wasn’t enough for what he did to her…but it was something. All the justice I could give her,” The High Lord of the Night Court said calmly, one hand settling on her shoulder.  

“Cassian is right. Azriel won’t care. And don’t tell him I said it, but he was always the hopeless romantic of us three,” there was humour flecking his voice in that simple sentence. Acceptance. “He’ll be so glad that you are finally there.”

It was The Morrigan that broke the silence. “I think you probably have more of a right than any of us to decide what we should do. So what are we going to do now?” 

She swallowed.  

“He’s your mate. It’s your choice,” Cassian agreed quietly. “He would want you to make that choice.”

She closed her eyes, tears still falling over her face. 

So what was…what choice…what choice should she make? 

“We’ll get it out.” She followed her instincts even if it was dangerous. Even when it was an hypothesis she needed to prove…even when…She needed to know for sure.” I don’t forget the personal cost. I know what risk I am taking. It’s a calculated risk,” she said, her voice shaky. 

“Galena,” her aunt said carefully, a weathered old hand wiping away her tears. 

“Do you really think I would risk him if I wasn’t sure?” she asked her aunt, staring at her. “Do you think I would have risked Cosima and Orion if I wasn’t sure? If I wasn’t certain that it would work? I may look like one, but I am not a monster.”

“I know that,” Madja whispered. “Oh, little mouse, I know that.”

[tilebytiles]

infallible beliefs - a.t. (part 2)

summary: as it turns out, professors are actually capable of feeling things, and alex feels more things for you than he'd like to. word count: 5.2k warnings: age gap (reader is 21 and alex is 30), mentions of violence, physical abuse, sexual assault - implied and written a/n: this is LONG awaited and for that i sincerely apologize. i'm testing out writing in all lowercase to see if i prefer it ... it is easier than manually capitalizing everything but we'll see part 1

you silently wished there was some great instruction manual for how to navigate conversations with your professor after having him discover the nature of your abusive relationship. you wished an angel could descend from the heavens, give you a good slap for how you'd let things play out in that stupid dingy bar, then fill you in on mr. turner's exact schedule so you could avoid him at all costs and never speak to him one-on-one again. you even stared down at the beige coffee that filled the plastic cup in your hands, a personal heater for your dreadfully chilly palms, waiting for the streaks of frothed milk to form the answer. but, of course, nothing came — and maybe you were actually insane for expecting anything at all. you were beginning to think god only kept you around because you amused him.

your ecclesiastical theory was only compounded by you nearly running into the wall — a door, actually. you quickly steadied your coffee cup in your hands and looked up, peering at the small name plaque attached to the door. alexander turner, ph— oh, of fucking course. you wondered how much time you had before he would notice your presence, and your left foot was already turning away, your brain drafting up yet another panicked signal to get you the fuck out of there, but it was too late. you locked eyes with him through the tall glass window on the right side of the door, and you watched as he took a whole of 1.5 seconds to register who you were before setting his pen down and standing up from his chair. goddamn it.

the door creaked open, and you were quick to slap on what was, at best, an only semi-falsified smile. it wasn't like you had anything against him, you just ... really didn't wanna see him. "mr. turner!" you said a little too loudly, a nervous laugh serving as punctuation. "fancy seeing you here!"

"this is my office." he rose an eyebrow at your abnormally skittish behaviour. "you were standing outside the door."

"oh. was i?" you laughed again, silently begging someone to run down the hall and shoot you already.

to your relief, mr. turner didn't say anything else on how strange you were acting. he leaned against the doorway, eyeing you for a moment, then asked, "did you need something?"

advice. your schedule so i can never see you again. a gun, maybe? "nothing ... in particular. just, um ..." you glanced to your left, then to your right. the hall was empty both ways, but paranoia still curled up in the recesses of your mind, a slumbering serpent waiting for the right time to strike. "could i come in?"

"of course." he pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped back, giving you enough space to slip past him into his office.

now that you thought about it, you weren't sure if you'd ever been in here. the door gently clicked shut behind you, and mr. turner stepped around you and back to his desk, sinking back down into his chair. all things considered, it was a nice office, at least to you; it wasn't cramped, like you'd always seen in movies, and there were a number of personal touches scattered about the place. the bookshelf against the back wall was full, although the books all seemed to pertain to literature ... or teaching ... teaching about literature ...

a picture on one of the shelves caught your eye, and without giving it much thought, you walked over and reached up, picking up the frame. you held it between both hands as you examined the photo, eyes narrowing. there were two people pictured, a man and a woman, and they had their arms around each other, smiling brightly for the camera. it was a sweet scene, but neither of the people looked particularly familiar, and honestly, you wouldn't put it past your professor to not be arsed with taking the stock image out of the frame. you stared a little longer, pondering where on earth you'd seen those big brown eyes before, when it suddenly clicked — the puzzle came together, and your brain cells rejoiced at their first victory of the day (one that was sorely needed, as far as they were concerned). "is this ... you?"

you looked over at mr. turner for confirmation, and it took him a second to look up from the paper on his desk. you turned the frame in your hands and held it out so he could see what picture you were talking about. he leaned forward, squinted a little, and then nodded. "yeah, that's me."

"you had long hair?"

he smiled sheepishly. "it wasn't that long."

you held the photo up beside his face for comparison. maybe compared to other hair lengths — yours, for example — it wasn't that long, but compared to the length his hair was at now, it was a noticeable difference. "why'd you cut it?"

"did you only come here to judge my past decisions?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, but there was a teasing lilt to his voice. "i cut it because it didn't suit me anymore. plus, it seemed a bit dated. i was about to start teaching, and i didn't need my students making fun of me on my first day, now, did i?"

you mulled it over and shrugged, then set the frame back up on its rightful shelf. "when'd you start, anyway?"

"oh, about ... seven or eight years ago? it's all kind of blurred together at this point, honestly. i went for my doctorate a couple of years in." his eyes followed you as his spoke, watching as you settled into the chair on the other side of his desk. your bag hit the floor beside you with a muted thump.

you wondered if he was just exceedingly disinterested in talking about his own hair, or if he'd been able to see through you before he'd even opened the door. as soon as you appeared to be settled in, he asked, in a lower tone, "how have you been recently?"

you immediately stiffened in your seat. foolishly, you had hoped he would've been able to just forget everything that'd happened — or, better yet, he would pretend he'd never seen anything, pretend he hadn't brought you down from tears in that stupid fucking bar, pretend he hadn't driven you home and given you his phone number as goddamn insurance. you could pretend, too; you'd taken a drama class in high school once with a friend. sure, it'd been for fun, but you had learned a few things, and how hard was it to act, really? on top of that, you were a literature student, and writers were destined to be pathological liars with all the shite they made up for a good story. you could both pretend and have no trouble at all, and each glance thrown at one another, each conversation shared, each accidental touch, wouldn't weigh half as much as they all did now. if you would both just pretend, then maybe you would know peace.

but it was never that easy, was it?

"i've ..." you looked down at your coffee, still in your hand, and wondered if it would unveil its great secrets now. the frothed milk still did not move. his office, spacious as it'd seemed just a few minutes ago, now felt increasingly small, like its walls were closing in on you, threatening to crush you and compact you down into one of those trash cubes from wall-e. "i've been alright," you finally replied, your voice dropping down to a pitiful mumble. conviction had packed its bags and declared an indefinite vacation, and you weren't allowed to come with. "just been ... busy, you know. school and work and all."

"busy," he echoed, as if that was the one, the word that would allow him to sink down into the depths of your psyche and sort through what was really going on. "and how's your boyfriend?"

"he's alright, too."

"just alright?"

"yeah."

"you know you can tell me anything, y/n." you knew — how could you not? how could you forget the day he'd first seen that bruise on your wrist and everything started to crumble? he'd told you his door was always open if you needed to chat, and although your short-term memory had quickly discarded the dialogue, your long-term memory swept it up out of the garbage, dusted it off, and stored it on a shelf way near the back of your mental archives, hellbent on never truly letting you forget it. maybe that was how you'd ended up at his office to begin with; your subconscious had taken the reins and decided you were long overdue for that little chat.

you sighed and took a long sip of your coffee. perhaps the froth would only tell you its secrets if you consumed it. "he's ... mostly forgotten what happened at the bar, i think. he — he acts like there's something wrong, like there's something he's supposed to be mad at me for, but he can't remember exactly what. i think maybe, deep down, he knows? it's little things he does, like ... whenever i mention your class, his mood sours, and he immediately changes the subject." i think he's jealous of you, you thought, but you kept it to yourself. that idea — the possibility of your boyfriend seeing your professor as a competitor for your heart — was one dreadful enough to give you a migraine. imagine how the professor in question would feel!

mr. turner nodded slowly, seeming to mull over your words. eventually, he asked, "has he ... put his hands on you again?"

"once. i'd accidentally smashed his fingers in the door, and he got pissed and said he needed to make it even."

"jesus christ. did he break anything?"

"no, no, he was fine. there was some bruising, but his fingers were all intact. i came out of it with a couple of bruises, too, but ..." you shrugged. "what can you do?"

he let out a long sigh and ran a hand over his face, glancing up at the ceiling as if to plead with god for answers the same way you'd done. you wondered if he was already sick of being a part of your secret. you couldn't blame him, honestly. "are you going to break up with him at any point?"

your gaze wandered off to the photo on the shelf again. now that you thought about it, you were pretty sure that was ms. chung next to him. "i don't know."

"i'm not saying you have to do it today —"

"i know."

"— or even tomorrow, for that matter —"

"i know."

"— but at some point. this relationship is killing you, y/n."

"i know, mr. turner."

you knew, better than anyone.

•••••

you felt it before it came. it was in the loose thread that'd cropped up in your favourite jumper that morning; the defiance of your bedsheets as you changed them, refusing to be perfectly flat against your mattress; the forecast in the weather app on your phone, predicting heavy rain starting at 8pm that night; the lead in your mechanical pencil that kept breaking, taunting you, like you weren't applying the same amount of pressure you always used when you wrote. it was the beginning of the end, a maelstrom of disaster with each incident piling onto one another, one after the other, until the stack went so high it hurt to crane your neck that far back. you tried to go about your day as normal — you brushed them all off as coincidences. you turned a blind eye to it all, walking away from the wreckage, because as far as you were concerned, it couldn't be anything real if you didn't pay any mind to it.

but you felt it. long before it forced you to look.

a thunderclap served as the dramatic entry music that accompanied john's arrival back to your flat. you had been curled up in bed, reading a book you really should've finished ages ago — your "to be read" list was so long, it was embarrassing. as soon as you heard the door shut, you were quick to mark your place, scramble out of bed, and slip out of your bedroom and into the living room. john had always hated it if you didn't greet him; you never really understood why. maybe because it made you feel like a housewife?

"welcome back," you said, giving him a kiss on the cheek that made your soul wither. "how'd it go?"

his answer came first in the form of a burp, one he did a half-assed job of covering with his hand. he didn't even bother excusing himself. "went fine," he muttered, shrugging his coat off. rain droplets clung to it, desperate to get an insider look into your flat. how disappointed they must have been. "it was good seeing 'em all again. 's been too long, you know?"

"yeah." you didn't know — you had no friends anymore. there was a slur tugging on his words, making each syllable a little longer than it needed to be, but he was a grown man and he could drink if he wanted to and you didn't feel like saying anything about it and starting a fight. "did you have dinner yet?"

"no, i'm starving. we still got some of that pasta?"

"we do."

"could you make me a bowl, please?"

"of course." as you stepped away from him to retreat into the kitchen, a firm hand landed on the curve of your ass, making you stiffen. a deep chuckle followed. it would be one of those nights, then.

just a few minutes later, his bowl of pasta was reheating in the microwave, and as you waited and watched the timer slowly tick down, green numbers morphing into each other in the blink of an eye, you leaned against the counter. you'd already eaten at least an hour ago, so he would have to eat alone. eventually, you felt his presence behind you, strong arms looping around your waist as he pressed himself against you. when he wasn't being the violent, angry, possessive kind of drunk, he was the clingy kind of drunk. although maybe the possessiveness explained the clinginess. "i missed you today," he mumbled, his nose brushing your hair out of the way so he could kiss your shoulder.

you almost snorted, but you quickly reeled it in. "you did?"

"i always miss you, babe." he shifted, and his growing erection pressed up against your ass, eliciting a soft groan from him. one of his hands slipped underneath your jumper and travelled up to your left breast, giving it a soft squeeze through your bra. "missed these, too."

normally, you would have just gone along with it; you two had done this rodeo several times before, and you had always been the one to topple off the bull. john was the one that had taken your virginity, and since he was your only point of reference for what sex was supposed to be like, you had just come to the conclusion that sex was fucking terrible and no one should ever do it. it was not fun, it was not enjoyable for both parties, and it was rarely ever consensual. john had quickly given up on trying to seek out your consent early on in your relationship. it was never about your pleasure, only his. and you, in all your stupidity — because you firmly believed you were just a giant idiot — had believed that this was how things were supposed to be. it was never meant to be about you.

you didn't know what possessed you to wriggle out of his grasp, to lightly push him away from you and force his hand out from underneath your top. conviction had just come back from its vacation, and with a renewed vigor you were entirely unfamiliar with, it spoke for you. "i don't feel like it tonight, john."

he froze, staring at you for a few moments, unblinking in a way that greatly unsettled you. "you don't feel like it?"

you shook your head. "i-i'm sorry."

he sighed and shook his head, running his hand through his hair. "no, no, don't be sorry, y/n."

was it really that easy? you felt like a fool for not standing your ground sooner, and you could practically hear your brain cells cheering, preparing the festivities for what they considered to be the greatest accomplishment of the modern age. maybe john wasn't the worst person ever — maybe he could listen to reason, and it was just your fault for not trying to find a compromise, some middle ground you could both stand on without resorting to a shouting match. not even he was susceptible to good communication!

his hand descended upon you, faster than you could predict, and you had no time to move out of the way before you were slapped across the face with a force that sent you straight to the floor.

he scoffed. "when have i ever cared if you don't feel like it? did you really think i'd just let you go like that?"

the microwave began beeping. his pasta was ready. "john, i —"

"shut up!" he roared, grabbing you by the hair and slamming your head against one of the cabinets beneath the sink. for a moment, you were sure your ears were ringing. your scalp burned as his fingers tightened around the strands. the world became a blur of colour as he pulled you up onto your knees, then sank down with you as your face was slammed down into the floor. "fucking bitch — can't do fuck all —"

"stop!" you screamed, the word contorting into a wail as you reached up blindly and clawed at his hand, trying desperately to get his grip to loosen. nails dug into flesh, tearing through layers of skin, and he finally eased up with a howl, letting go just long enough for you to scramble up off the floor and dart out of the room. your head was already pounding, and you felt disoriented, but you didn't give a damn — you needed to leave.

you slammed the door to your bedroom shut and locked it, then began rummaging through the closet for an old suitcase. when was the last time you'd gone travelling? a pink one was the one you found first, and you sized it up for a moment before deciding it'd have to do. you could always get new clothes later. as you stumbled around the room, grabbing whatever you deemed essential with one hand and tossing it onto your bed, your other hand made quick work of your phone, calling the only person you could think of.

riiiiing. riiiiing. riiiiing. click. "hello?"

"mr. turner?"

"y/n?" you heard the rustle of fabric on the other end of the line. "are you okay?"

you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying not to burst into tears in the middle of the call. "no." your voice wobbled a little. "do you still have my address?"

there was a beat of silence, as if he had to take a moment to process the weight of your question. finally, he said, "i'll be there as quick as i can. find something to defend yourself with."

click.

the next five minutes were spent trying to stuff as much as you could into that measly suitcase while also trying not to vomit everywhere. to your surprise, john hadn't come trying to bust the door down — you couldn't really hear him at all, actually. that terrified you.

you unlocked the door and took a deep breath before slowly pulling it open. john was standing on the other side, arms crossed and gaze unforgiving. his hand was still bleeding. "where the fuck are you going?"

"away."

he snorted. "you think i'll just let you go? huh? you'll fucking come crawling back, anyway, y/n."

"no, i won't. we're over, john."

"like hell we are."

maybe that angel had finally come to save the day. his hand shot out, reaching for you, and instead of succumbing to his grasp as you had so many times before, you lifted the suitcase up and poured all of your strength into shoving it square against his chest, knocking him back — and out of the way. you slipped past him and practically bolted through the living room, fumbling with the lock on the front door for only a second before swinging it open and running out of your flat. his flat, now, you supposed.

you had never run so fast in your life.

the lift took you down to the lobby of the block of flats you lived in, the soft music coming from the speaker jarring in nature compared to the sliver of hell you'd just experienced. with a dinging noise, the doors slid open, and you stepped out of the metal prison, suitcase in tow. at least there wasn't anyone else to see you here, not anyone except the oddly dressed fellow by the front —

wait.

"miles kane?" the sound of his name made miles turn, a smile tugging at his lips, as if he'd expected to be meeting a fan. when he was instead met with you, the girl from the bar that now had a busted lip, a bloody nose, what was sure to become a black eye, and a number of yet-to-bloom bruises that not even you were aware of, the smile dropped like a fire being extinguished.

"bloody fuckin' hell, what the fuck happened to you?" he asked, rushing over to help you; you looked like you were on the brink of collapse. an arm came around your shoulders, a tender touch you were entirely unfamiliar with, as he led you over to a nearby sofa, easing you down onto the cushions.

you sighed and tilted your head back, staring up at the lights overhead. "is it that bad?"

"can you not feel it?"

"i can't really feel anything, if i'm being honest." you watched out of the corner of your eye as he settled down next to you. "what are you doing here?"

"i live here. al told me you'd need some help. texted me a few minutes ago and said he's almost here."

you wanted to cry at how thoughtful mr. turner was being — how considerate they both were — but you were too buzzed up on adrenaline to cater to any emotion at all. "i'm ... sorry."

"what for?"

"that you have to put up with this."

he shook his head. "'s no trouble at all, love. just be safe, yeah?"

safe. what did that even mean anymore?

as the adrenaline wore off, you became increasingly tired, and you would have fallen asleep on that (rather stiff) sofa if it weren't for miles jumping up and announcing to an audience of one, "he's 'ere!"

you jolted up from your seat and turned, locking eyes with mr. turner as he stepped through the doors. the sight of you made him falter, and he opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it and quickly snapped it shut. he glanced at miles, who nodded and wrapped his arm back around you, grabbing the handle of your suitcase with his free hand and leading you both towards the doors — towards salvation.

it was pouring buckets outside, and with the hurry he'd been in, mr. turner had failed to bring an umbrella. the suitcase was passed off to him as miles ushered you towards the car, popping the passenger door open and helping you inside. the door shut, and you were left alone, any conversation the pair were having being drowned out by the thunderous patter of rain against the top of the car. a part of you was still on high alert, expecting john to burst through the doors at any moment and try to reclaim you, but the rest of you wished so desperately to fall back into the pool of peace.

eventually, the driver's door opened, and mr. turner slipped into the seat, thanking miles one last time before shutting the door. miles waved at you through the window with an apologetic smile, and you waved back, watching as he retreated inside. with a sigh, mr. turner turned the keys in the ignition and let the car roar to life.

you didn't know how long it took to get to his flat; you had, more or less, lost all sense of time. you wondered if john had given you a concussion, but tried not to think on it for too long. you were barely aware of the car parking outside his block of flats; of the passenger door popping open as he offered you a hand to help you out; of the ding of the lift as it arrived on your floor, and the second ding as it deposited you onto the floor mr. turner lived on; of his keys jingling as he unlocked the front door of his flat; of him ushering you inside and muttering something about getting you into some warm clothes and putting water to boil for tea.

it was only when a hand landed on your shoulder that you snapped back to reality, and you nearly jumped out of your skin, whipping around to face him. his other hand landed on your other shoulder, steadying you, and he seemed to hesitate briefly before letting his arms slip around you, drawing you into an embrace that was equal parts warm and comforting and soothing and heartbreaking. "it's over," he murmured into your hair, lips ghosting over your ear.

you had felt it before you had seen it, and now, in the calm of mr. turner's flat, you couldn't run from it any longer. it seized you, peeling your eyelids back and forcing you to gaze upon its existence. you weren't aware you were crying, not until you finally let out a broken sob and succumbed to the emotions that had been building up inside of you like the world's most unsteady jenga tower. you sank deeper into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him, clinging to him like you were afraid he'd let go. he wouldn't — of course he wouldn't. "shh, shh, it's okay," he whispered, beginning to slowly rock you from side to side.

a part of you wished he would be repulsed by your emotions; wished he would pull away and send you back out to face john on your own. it would be easier to resign yourself to that fate than to face ... this. everything. the mess you had become, the mess john had made you, the mess mr. turner had recognised since he'd seen your bruised wrist, the mess you had chosen to remain oblivious to because admitting to it meant admitting that something was wrong, and you hated the thoughts of getting pulled down into that dark and ugly whirlpool and being left with nothing to confront but yourself — and you knew, you knew that you would wash up onto shore and the sky would be grey and there would be nothing, and your chest would be cracked open and your ribs splintered apart so everyone could see your heart, bloody and raw and ugly, as it beat the tune of your secrets to the world.

"do you want to shower?" he murmured. tendrils of vulnerability wrapped around you, tugging at your hands and ankles and forcing you down into the whirlpool against your will.

"no," you whispered.

"okay. let's get you changed, at least, and — we can try to blowdry your hair. it got a bit wet in the rain."

you didn't wear your own clothes that night; he gave you some of his, fresh from the dryer. they were warm and a bit big, but that added to the comfort, didn't it? you wondered why he even had a hairdryer, but maybe his hair was like yours and could never dry in a timely manner when he needed it to, making such a tool an essential in his bathroom.

you were sitting on his sofa now, wrapped up in a blanket he'd given you, cradling a warm cup of tea in your hands. you watched as steam wafted up into the air, dissolving as quickly as it'd come into existence. "i'm sorry, mr. turner," you said quietly."

there was a beat of silence. "alex."

you looked up at him. "what?"

"alex," he repeated, his elbow digging into the back of his sofa as he propped his head up in his hand. "i want you to call me alex."

requesting he call you by your first name was one thing — he'd only called you your last name for formalities, after all, a general air of politeness that followed him wherever he went. but this — this was its own beast, loaded with enough implications to give you several migraines. they were all implications that you, for the time being, chose not to think of.

"okay." you looked down at the mug again. "i'm sorry, alex."

he sighed softly beside you. "don't be."

"but —"

"but nothing, y/n. i was more than willing to help, and i still am." you hated how unused you were to generosity like his.

the pair of you fell into silence that stretched out for the span of a few minutes, broken only by you adjusting your position in your fabric cocoon and mumbling, "it was because of the starry night kit."

he rose an eyebrow. "what was?"

"that bruise on my wrist. we'd argued about it, and he ended up pushing me so i fell and hit the table."

"the fuck did he do that for?" now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, and he smiled a bit sheepishly when he realised what he'd done. "sorry."

"no, it — it's okay." you offered him a meager smile in response. "it's nice to hear you drop the professional tone."

"i'll keep that in mind. but — really, why'd he do that?"

"it was too expensive for him, and he called me ungrateful, among ... other things."

"how much is it, anyway?"

"a couple hundred pounds, at least."

"hm." he glanced off to the side, staring at something you couldn't exactly pinpoint. you wondered what he was thinking about.

given that you'd lost all of your fight, you didn't think twice about agreeing to his giving you his bed for the night while he slept on the sofa. the pair of you exchanged goodnights, and you slipped beneath the covers, relishing in the softness of his pillow and the warmth provided by the blanket. it didn't take you long at all to fall asleep — and it was possibly the best sleep you'd ever gotten.

you remained blissfully unaware of a wide awake alex on the sofa, sitting in the dark as he ordered the starry night set off the lego website at 12am.

tags: @saintfrancis-ofassisi / @sagegreensimmr / @billyseye / @supernaturalandpain / @not-a-big-slay / @captainwans

[dunmeshistash]

Was flipping through my Adventurers Bible today. Two things that had my brain going was on the World Map page.

1. They refer to Utaya as a pit 😭; but also from the text on the next page it says they couldn't ever fully seal it off because of how big it had grown. They have another group of Canaries who's job it is to live there and keep a magical barrier in tact to keep the monsters from spilling out again. It's interesting to me that even without a Dungeon Lord (presumably) the dungeons ecology is so whacked up now that it's unfixable. 🤔

2. There is exactly 1 dungeon currently in the world that isn't made by either elves or dwarves. A gnome made dungeon, which is a giant tower which looks like it's near Kahka Brud and to the SE of the island the main story takes place on. Apparently it's surrounded by flying creatures and the wind blowing through the holes in the tower make a wailing sound. It makes me wonder if this is a slight reference to something else (outside of DM) or if it's just an interesting side thing Ryoko Kui came up with.

Just some interesting things I was thinking about today. The world building is just so fun.

1 - It is crazy that they still had to seal it for so long! It's probably because the dungeon spilled out I imagine similarly to how Marcille's couatl managed to break thru even tho the Demon hadn't been able to escape yet

2 - Those are the main dungeons on the map! Lots of them are focused around kahka brud which is dwarf territory so I think it makes sense there's mostly dwarf style dungeons, the island is compound because it was used by elves even before Thistle arrived. Also I love Tower of Night cries

If it's a reference I'm not aware but it's very very cool

On this cover you can actually see where those are located better

[toast-in-a-cowboy-hat]

I'll never get over Tex asking Michael if he has a brain chip, then immediately saying that Outlaw can take it out, and everyone acts like its The Most Casual suggestion one could ever have

Like yeah man, come on, it'll be fine, don't worry about it, just slap down a towel, get some of Outlaw's Backyard Brain Surgery, don't make such a big deal out of it

We can do it in the living room, you can watch some TV, Bluster might come in and say hi, just lay back and relax!

Also I assume he knows the general area that the chip wold be in, but also you need to know exactly where, so does he have an X-Ray Machine, or he just whipping out a metal detector in the middle of all this, homing in on it like "Hmm it's beeping real loud, let's try here... ah, nope, that's a beer tab, well we'll keep lookin', it's in there somewhere"

And I know maybe this is something to be done with a Calculator, but referring to it specifically as Brain Surgery and Michael saying he doesn't want Ty poking around his brain implies that its just regular (well "regular") surgery and so like...where did Outlaw get the equipment for this??

Where in the world is he getting this stuff, did he steal a copy of the Compound's equipment on the way out, is he going up to random hospitals like "Hey don't mind me just gonna duplicate your MRI Machine" or is he cobbling shit together in the basement??

Like you walk in and this man's defibrillator is made outta someones old toaster got some kinda machine in the corner partially made out of an old doodlebug hood, the computer screen's from 1995, but then again that's high tech compared to some hospitals so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also I imagine this is a Base only kinda thing, but what if Tex's just down at the bar offering people free surgery like it's on the same level as a ride home?

Can you imagine being in a bar with your buddies, you just went to the doctor, they said you need some kind of heart surgery, and you're there talking like 'Oh it needs to be done but god, its so expensive, my insurance only covers so much, the bills are just gonna kill me, etc, etc ...' Only for some other guy that you may or may not know to pop up, go "Oh, hey, I got someone that can help you out with that", call someone else over and be like "This is my guy-of-indeterminate-relationship, he's a scientist, he can probably hook you up with a lil open heart surgery, no problem :)"

Scientist guy asks you what the problem is, you explain it, and he's like "yeah, we can do something about that, gimme a couple weeks to get everything together, I'll give you a call when it's all ready"

And you're just like, yeah sure, why not, Weird Cowboy Scientist's gonna do my heart surgery, sure. Is he gonna buy the implant you need? Does he just have one lying around? Is he stealing it?? Who knows, you'll find out, it's fine, sure

2 weeks later, you do the finding out and apparently none of your guesses were right, turns out he's building all this shit himself, but hell, it's faster than a doctor's appointment and free to boot, so! Why not! Sure! Let's do it, definitely not gonna be getting any organs stolen, this is all completely normal!!

And then its actually fine.

Nothing bad happened, no infections, no internal organs missing (as far as you can tell), it was a basic surgery, everything went fine.

You go home. You decide you don't need to know. You decide you don't want to know.

You go to the bar with your buddies again, the guy is there, you buy him a beer, have a little chat, leave the conversation thinking "Wow, what a fucking dork", and on life goes.

And I mean, I guess it could work in their favor, like, folks around get to knowing about him, and he's out doing something odd or seemin' suspicious or something and someone asks about him, they can be like "Oh no, don't worry, don't mind him, that's just Outlaw, he's Tex's... bestie? boyfriend? sugar-baby-boytoy-situationship-type-deal??? ...British Friend, and yeah he's weird n' all, but it's cool, he's nice, he sometimes help's out with folk's health problems when they can't afford it, and Tex's band plays at the bar, which is cool, so ya know, we don't question the weird shit they got goin' on, like it works out, it's all good"

Like, there's just....

So much, so many things there, I could go on, as you can tell, I have many a thought but like, I just - it's - yeah

[nihilistem]

Hey! I read your study tips both posts regarding adhd . (Feel free to ignore )

I am still undiagnosed and I think it's adhd but i do not have the resources nor the environment or support system to do anything about it .I am a high schooler preparing for entrance exams and i really need to like get my shit together and i feel like i have wasted sm time already but i really do want to get better. When i sit to study i just can't focus if I keep my phone in some other room then also i would just sit and stare at my books without accomplishing something. I am trying really but it's feels like my brain is frozen and my body is moving .my brain keep screaming guilty and ashamed but i can't seem to do anything about it.your study post actually i related to a lot because pomodro kind of seems to be working for everyone but me and the you described the exact same things I do

I know this is a lot to ask for please feel free to ignore but how do I stop Letting my emotions take over and study consistently because I only have one chance at the exams

Oh my, first of all I’d like to say that, as cliché as it is, I know exactly how you feel. I was undiagnosed for so long (I was only diagnosed a few months ago) and I didn’t even know that the adhd things I experience on a regular basis wasn’t normal or neurotypical for so long.

first up : I know this is difficult, but please do not say such things about yourself. I’m not gonna get into the whole thing, (cuz I have done a post on that already) but it’s true that the more you drill that bad stuff into your brain, the more it’s gonna stick. We need our brains to be in the best condition possible to study efficiently and saying bad stuff about yourself that isn’t even true is just going to hinder your performance. You got this. I promise you’re not lazy. Your brain just isn’t motivated by the same things others are, but we can work with that simple difference.

I’ll make a separate post on how not to let your emotions take over, but for now …

adhd study tips for those trying to get into the habit.

— by a stem student with adhd.

here’s my first post on adhd study tips.

— don’t put your phone in a different room. Instead, download an app that prevents you from using other apps on your phone.

there’s plenty of apps that do this but the one I prefer is ypt because all its features are completely free and it stops your timer when you exit the app unless you enter ‘allowed app mode.’ I don’t know about you, but if I find that I’m just zoning out on my textbook then I end up stopping my timer and deleting the record because I know I didn’t actually study, and this motivates me to actually get some work done. The timer also gets me motivated to keep going for longer so I have physical proof of my focus time and studies. It will feel good to even have just 1 hour of study time on it, I promise.

— even if you’re not interested in your studies, try your best to find even one thing that interests you.

novelty, challenge and interest are some of the best motivators of the adhd brain, so use it. I know that sparking your curiosity for a subject you hate seems impossible, but hear me out.

ever since I was young, I was exposed to books and I drew everyday. This caused me to become very passionate about the arts, but since I had adhd and didn’t know, I failed all my classes and specifically hated chemistry because it was specifically designed to be everything that I can’t be good at due to my poor memory and the need to memorize a TON of concepts. Then during class one day, I was doing chemistry work with my friends and felt frustrated that they could easily balance equations and work out which compounds were acids or bases purely by its chemical formula. And that’s what sparked me to start reading my textbook to see what the big deal was. How was it possible for one to just know when something is a acid solely from looking at a bunch of letters? This started a chain reaction; I found my answer, and found that the process of finding my answer and learning this new information was fulfilling. So I looked at all the other chemistry topics, and it turns out chemistry was fun. I was supposed to be an art student but now I’m majoring in chemistry and biology, all because of that sense of challenge and curiosity I was given that day.

tdlr; I was bad at chemistry but I’m now majoring in it because I felt challenged by a friend and was curious to know how they could solve chem equations easily.

All it took was a bit of curiosity. It’s a very powerful thing to the adhd brain. And if you use this as a motivator for your studies it might even cause you to hyper-fixate on your work, which means you’ll naturally spend more time studying just to find all the answers you’re now dying to know.

— use the pomodoro timer, but think about the things that you have to do that seems a little impossible to do under 25 minutes.

This fulfills the ‘challenge’ category I mentioned in the previous tip.

Let me explain; I subconsciously started doing this to myself without anyone telling me this and it’s helped me a LOT. Here’s an example;

“This chapter’s too long, it’s impossible to read through everything and understand the key concepts in just twenty five minutes.”

is it, though?

So I was off to the races, genuinely reading through every page and taking note of every single heading or bold or italicized word so I will be able to summarize the entire topic by the time the twenty five minutes is up.

And it doesn’t even matter if you don’t make that twenty five minute mark, because you’ll feel a sense of defeat and try it again with another chapter/topic.

this accomplishes two things; one, the work you’ve been putting off or zoning out on is now probably 20% - 50% completed and now you feel motivated to continue. Two, this method will train you to be faster in learning or studying new material or even just completing work in general, depending on what you’re challenging yourself to do.

— dress up, do your hair, study at a library or cafe you love (and possibly make pretty notes.)

I’ve talked about interest, I’ve talked about challenge, and now I’m gonna talk about novelty.

Do this with purpose! But what do I mean by that?

I’m sure you’ve come across studious girls in media or even people on social media making videos and taking pretty photos of their day out to study. Usually they’re dressed the part and even if they’re not, there’s a certain vibe, aesthetic or aura about them that is just so desirable that it makes you wish you were doing what they were doing. And if you don’t feel this way, find content creators or media that do make you feel this way.

How will this help me? Well, there are actually a few reasons but the first one that comes to mind is that this is also an adhd tip used outside of studying. Combining a task you don’t want to do with a task you’d like to do is a faster and more efficient way of convincing yourself to do long, difficult or even tiring tasks. Another is that doing this would also mean you’ve technically gotten yourself to desire studying, something more commonly known as romanticizing studying. If you make studying look fun, glamorous or even desirable for yourself then you’re sure to get to the hideous parts of it. Think about being a straight A student, someone who’s always wearing nice clothes with great hair and such a focused work ethic. Once you desire to be that person and you dress like that person, you’ll start to do the things that person will do.

— use the pomodoro timer but set it to even shorter bursts instead. (e.g. 15 minutes work, 5 minutes break.)

Or hell, on my worst days I set it to 5 minutes work, 5 minutes break.

The whole point of this exercise is to just start, because that’s arguably the hardest part about studying, you can’t get yourself to actually start or to actually focus. So promise yourself a five minute break after a very short amount of time of reading.

— skip straight to the questions of a topic, try to do them and identify the information you need to get the answer right.

For example, I came across a bio question that was rather simple but I didn’t know the answer to because I haven’t revised the topic for a while, and the question was, what is needed in the body for anaerobic respiration to take place? And the answer was simple, but I didn’t know because again, I didn’t study the material before answering the paper.

one’s brain can have the habit of being complacent especially when you don’t wanna do work, so diving head first into the questions and realizing that you don’t know jack shit would be a good wake up call for you and your brain—and this can connect to the second point that I made because you might find that you’d be eager to get the answer right all on your own, and become curious as to what the answer is.

important to remember …

erase everything bad that you were told or led to believe about studying. I promise that if you look for ways to make it engaging for you and form a habit, studying can be something you don’t dread or worry about everyday. You are capable. This is the start of your journey. Yes, the question of ‘what if I get distracted again’ will always be there but think about what could happen if today is the first day you’re not distracted. If you don’t at least try to start now, you will have zero chance of being able to actually focus and study. But if you try, the worst that will happen is that you tried. If you keep trying, it will happen. I promise.

If you need any more tips regarding adhd, (or being undiagnosed,) please do let me know. I’ll do my best to help.

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Kinktober day 3- Hate Sex: Loki

Summary: You and Loki hate each other. Can you fuck it out?

Word count: 2,346 words

It had been about 6 months since Loki had come to live in the avengers compound, and about 2 years since you were rescued from hydra and began living with them. In that time you’d both made amends and became close with the team, but not with each other. In fact the opposite was true, you couldn’t stand one another.

This feud had started off innocently enough, with you just not liking his arrogance and him liking to stir up the young midguardian woman but it’s grown worse since then. Neither of you can stand to be in the same room for too long and Nat had even made Steve change the training schedule so you 2 wouldn’t have to be around each other. Once you were even in the elevator with each other for just a bit too long and almost blew it up.

Everyone on the team had tried many times to get you both to at least tolerate each other but nothing would work. You both simply could not stand each other.

One night you could just not sleep, tossing and turning for about 2 hours before you decided to get up and do something. Your brain was not tired and your body was not shutting off so you decided to get dressed and head to the compounds gym, maybe a run or a couple punches on the bag would help.

So far it seemed to be doing the trick, but as you manoeuvred around the bag to give it another combo, you spotted him. As soon as your eyes found each other you both seem to roll them in unison.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You spat at him, taking your earphones out.

“Well it’s a gym, darling, where one may workout, maybe that’s what I’m doing.” He retorts, words laced with sarcasm and venom.

“Fuck you, Loki! And don’t call me darling.” You roll your eyes again as you turn to face away from him and return to the bag.

Before you could make another hit however you feel a hand on your waist and see another resting on the bag. Turning around you find, Loki towering over you.

“Why don’t you like when I call you ‘Darling’, darling?” He asks you teasingly with a smirk on his face.

“Because!” You accentuate as you shove him away.

“It’s you saying it.” You reply back with just as much, if not more attitude.

“Well I suppose if it was another one of the team saying it you’d be fine? Someone you actually consider worthy of such attention.” He bites back at you.

“Yeh someone worthy, someone like Thor. He’s the worthy one, not you.” You spit back at him, knowing that would hurt him.

A snarl made its way to his face and you knew you’d won as you turned around and began to put your earphones back in, but were too late before he started up again.

“Well maybe I should save my compliments and pet names for someone who’s actually attractive. Perhaps Natasha or Wanda would be appropriate.” He bites back with just as much venom, knowing that was also a low blow.

That hurt, but you kept your head up high as you turned back to him with a smirk.

“Funny you think they’d actually want you. You’re nothing, Loki. You’re second rate and you know it, the only reason you’re even here is because we like Thor. He’s the only reason you’re not locked away,” anger now evident in Lokis face and trembling fists as you continued your assault “he’s the reason you’re not dead. Your brother, Thor, the worthy one the one who’s actu-.” Your torment filled rants was cut short as Loki smash his mouth into yours, pushing you all the way back until your back collided with the wall.

At first you wanted to push him off but in your own twisted way you saw this as a challenge. Grabbing onto his gym shirt you deepen the kiss, now opening your mouth as your tongues fight for dominance.

“You are a rude, disgusting woman!” He says now grabbing your hair and pulling it back as his body pushes against yours, using his godly strength to keep you caged in.

“Maybe you need someone to teach you some manners, or maybe you just need someone to fuck some into you. Maybe that’s why you’re such a bitch, because no one wants to fuck you.” He growled, his face now getting closer to you.

“What you think you’re the one to do it? You think if you fuck me maybe I’ll be nice to you? Maybe I’ll be compliant? That I’ll see you as a mighty god?” You ask him tauntingly with a rage filled smirk on your face.

Flipping you around before you have a second to fight back he pushes your face into the wall, his hand pulling on your hair roughly and a tight grip squeezing into your hip. Pushing his strong body against your back and ass you can now feel his very hard cock pushing into your lower back, feeling every inch of him. Without meaning to you let out a small moan and leant into his grip, your body betraying you.

“Oh haha, who’s not worthy now, little girl?” He whispers hotly into your ear, taunting you once again.

“Fuck you.” You yell back as best you can with your face being forced onto the wall.

“I will if you like. Is that what you’d like?” He asked, his hand now reaching around to grab your covered pussy, feeling just how wet you are even with your workout pants and panties on.

“Mmmhhmm it feels like that’s exactly what you want.” He moans in your ear, playing with you through your clothes and slowly but strongly humping against your back.

You both stayed quiet for a moment, the only sounds echoing through the gym were both of you quietly moaning and grunting.

Loki truly did have skilled fingers because only moments later of just playing with you over your clothes you could feel your body tingling and you knew you were close.

“Oh you dirty slut. You’re about to cum aren’t you? Do you want to cum?” He asks you tauntingly.

“Yes! Please I want to cum!” You begged, all rage now being flooded by pleasure and a need for release.

“Beg. Beg me and I’ll let you cum. Beg me to fuck you, to turn you into a good girl.” He growled in your ear, his thrusts on your behind becoming faster as did his strokes on your clit. You didn’t want to give in, you wanted to fight him and win but god damn it you couldn’t deny how hot he was and how good he was making you feeling.

“Oh fuck! Please, Loki! Please fuck me! I need you, make me a good girl. Please fuck me hard! Please! I need your cock.” You sobbed out, desperate to get some release.

“Good girl.” Was all he whispered before he took his hands away and took a step back.

Being denied your pleasure made the rage in you flood back with a great vengeance.

“What the fuck, Loki!” You shouted at him as you made your way towards him. Before you could even take a step forward though he was back on you, pushing you against the wall, hand on your throat and harsh kisses shoving your head back.

“You really think the first time I would make you cum would be over your clothes like pubescent boy? Darling I intend to give you an orgasm only a God can give you. So you be a good girl and lay on your back on the floor for me. I’ll show you why they say a have a silver tongue.” He whispered against your lips as you looked into his eyes with need and submission.

“Okay, Loki.” You said quietly, earning you a playful slap on the ass as you made your way to the ground.

Loki was quick to jump on top of you. Making quick work to use him godly strength, tearing the clothes from your trembling body, leaving you completely naked on the cold gym floor.

“Couldn’t you just have magiced them away.” You ask rudely, seeing your nice new gym outfit ripped to shreds beside you.

“Yes of course,” he says pushing a hand around your neck, pushing you further down “but then you wouldn’t be able to see my godly strength, little one.” He whispers hotly into your ear teasing you.

Before you can respond he removes his hand from your throat and drags a moan out of you as he bites down onto your neck. This bites followed by sweet kisses down your neck, to your throat and landing on your first breast. He takes your nipple in his mouth, sucking and nipping on it as your hands tangle in his hair as your eyes roll and your head falls back.

Once he’s satisfied with the treatment your first breast received he moves on to the next, giving it a similar treatment. Once he’s happy with the attention he’s given your breasts, his kisses continue down your stomach and all the way to your pussy.

He just stares at your pussy for a while taking you all in as he licks his lips and spreads your legs apart, big slender but strong hands squeezing your thighs. Suddenly he licks up your pussy and tauntingly sucks on your clit for other half a second.

“Oh, darling, if I knew you tasted his heavenly I would have shut you up ages ago.” He smirks at you cheekily as begins to lick and suck at you again.

Loki truly did have a talented tongue because less than a minute later you felt yourself about to cum again. Not wanting a repeat of last time you began to beg.

“Please, loki, please I’m about to cum. You can fuck me as hard as you like, I’ll be a good girl for you just please let me cum. Oh please let me cum, baby, I’ll be such a good girl.” You begin to babble as you can’t wait for a response any longer and you cum before you can even stop yourself. A wave of pleasure like you’ve never felt before rushes over you as you grab onto Lokis hair and scream out a moan, head falling back and eyes rolling.

Once Lokis face comes back up you begin to worry, trying to babble out an apology, still in a state of great euphoria.

“Loki I’m sorry, I couldn’t control it, I needed to cum, I’m sorry.” You begged him, worried you’d done something bad.

“Shh shh, don’t worry, darling, you did wonderful.” He told you as he stroked your face.

His sweet and calm demeanour didn’t last long however as he grabs you by your throat once again and flips you over. Pushing your head down into the ground and shoving your ass up in the air. You moan as you feel his hard cock against your ass, this clothes now removed by his magic.

“Didn’t think I’d forget to fuck you did I? You naughty little girl. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never want to be mean to me again. Make you into such a good girl.” He growls in your ear as you try to rub yourself against him.

Before you can begin begging however, he’s shoved him cock all the way inside you, forcing your body forward.

“Fuck, you’re already my good little girl, your pussy was so wet I could just slam right into you.” He taunts as he begins to fuck you at a godly pace and power.

His hands dig into your hips so hard it hurt, no doubt leaving bruises and pain you’ll feel tomorrow. He truly was a god, the roughness of his thrusts not calming down, not even once. He fucks you full speed and force for what feels like a splendid eternity.

Your head begins to go dizzy as you can feel your orgasm approaching, sensing this Loki reaches around to lightly touch your clit, his speed and power not letting up once though.

“You’re close are you, my good girl? You gonna cum for me? You want to cum for your king? Be such a good girl for me?” He asks you sweetly.

Loki had been hitting all your right spots and fucking you so hard that all you could manage was a weak nod of your head, as another moan left your body with Loki pushing down harder on your clit.

“Oh is my good girl too cock drunk to answer? To full of pleasure? Don’t worry, my darling, I’ll let you cum. Come on, little girl, cum for me.” He says only now panting as he gets closer to finishing himself.

Mere moments after his words of encouragement you scream out a moan of absolute delight and pleasure as your eyes roll back. You feel a burst of wetness between your legs as Loki holds onto your hips and fucks you even faster, now cumming himself.

He roars out a moan as he finishes inside you, both of your cum mixing together.

Before you can fall to the floor Loki quickly pulls out of you and scoops you up into his arms. As you feel the warmth of his chest and his racing heart beat you realise he’s transported you under the covers in his nice warm bed.

He’s cleaned you up nicely and holds you lovingly against his chest as he kisses your forehead and strokes your arm.

“Are you going to keep fighting me now?” He asks playfully.

“Well if being mean gets me fucked like that then I might have to.” You joke back.

“Hmmm,” he sighs “how about being nice and seeing what I give you then, sweet girl.” He whispers to you seductively as he squeezes your ass before you both drift softly off to sleep.