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440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

Text

Coming Home

(photo courtesy of IMDb)

Pairing: Leonard “Bones” McCoy x Reader. Other Characters: Captain Jim Kirk, Sulu, Uhura, Spock, Scotty, Nurse Chapel, Joanna McCoy and Jocelyn McCoy

Word Count: 6594

Warnings: A bit of angst as there usually is with exes, medical incident, topped off with fluff and a little implied smut.

Prompt: “Did you ever plan on telling me?”

Summary: Reader left Dr. McCoy and the Enterprise eight years ago for reasons unknown. Captain Kirk has decided to get her to come back, so he offers her a position in the ship’s Botany Department and Lab. How will her ex-boyfriend and CMO Dr. McCoy react to seeing her after all these years?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Jim, I just don't think it's a good idea," you told him, shaking your head. Captain James T Kirk was in your apartment, trying to convince you to rejoin him on the USS Enterprise.

"Why not? It's been, what, eight years now? Surely he's forgiven you by now," Kirk replied.

"Even if he has, which I doubt, I haven't forgiven me yet. We haven't even spoken since I left. No, I can't come back, Jim. You need things to run smoothly on that ship of yours. I would only upset the applecart," you affirmed.

"Please? You're the best botanist in Starfleet, and we really need you. Sulu can bring you up to speed on all of his latest findings with the plants we've catalogued in the past few years. Besides, there are others who would be happy to see you return to the ship," Kirk pressed.

You bit your bottom lip in concentration. Jim could tell you were close to cracking under his persuasive argument. You missed your 'girl talk' sessions with Uhura, even though monthly subspace messages have kept you in touch. They just haven't been the same as being together in person. If you came back, you might even start a lively discussion with Spock on Vulcan vs. Human philosophy.

If you went back, you know Jim would make your return as smooth as possible. He was right, that others would be happy to see you again. However, there was at least one crew member that you were fairly certain would not share in everyone's enthusiasm at seeing you back on the Enterprise.

Dr. Leonard. McCoy.

The two of you had been in a relationship for about four years prior to your departure. You shared the same quarters, during which time you were blissfully happy and in love. Leonard was the light of your life, and you saw him in every scenario in your future. Marriage, family, retirement from active duty, maybe eventually a house somewhere.

All of that came crashing down the night of his daughter's birthday party, when Joanna was turning 13. Two weeks after it happened and without explanation, you left Leonard and the Enterprise.

You had no intention of ever returning to the ship. You were content in your teaching position at Starfleet HQ and to stay at home, maintaining your garden. That is, until a blonde-haired, blue-eyed captain came knocking on your door, asking you to come back.

"So?" Kirk asked.

"I'll need to pack a few things, make some arrangements," you sighed.

"Ship leaves here in five days, will that be enough time?" Kirk inquired.

"I suppose it'll have to be, won't it. You're not exactly leaving me with much choice," you retorted. "Don't worry, Jim. I'll be there, ready to assist you however I can," you promised. I just don't know if I'm ready to face him again, not after all these years that have gone by, you thought to yourself.

As if he heard you, Jim nudged your arm. "Maybe this is just the opportunity you two need, you know, to clear the air. Much as you may not think so, the two of you belong together," Jim concluded softly.

"I have a feeling that one way or another, the situation between Len and me will soon be resolved," you replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When you re-materialized on the transporter pad, you were surprised to see so many of your friends waiting to welcome you back. Sulu, Chekhov, Scotty, Uhura and even Spock had made the trip down to Transporter Room #3, along with the captain to await your return. The only one absent was Dr. McCoy, but you didn't expect him to show up. Not willingly anyway.

You stepped down from the transporter pad and were immediately engulfed in Uhura's embrace. She rambled on about when the first 'girl talk' night should be while you traded hugs with Sulu and Chekhov.

"Hello, Commander. It is agreeable to see you again," Spock greeted you.

"It's nice to see you, too, Spock," you smiled as you pulled him into a hug before he could stop you. "Mr. Scott, always a delight," you gushed.

"Aye, lassie, it's good to have ye home again," Scotty beamed.

"Thank you. It's good to be--" your greeting was interrupted by the transporter room doors sliding open. The moment of truth had finally arrived, where the next few words spoken would set the tone for the time to come.

"God in Heaven," McCoy whispered. His mouth suddenly went dry at seeing you again after eight years. He could see that the years had been kind to you, because to him, you were even more beautiful than before. His heart did a mini-flip in his chest, but almost immediately afterwards, his brain and his memory re-engaged.

McCoy coughed and cleared his throat in an effort to regain his composure. "Commander," he said gruffly, nodding his head sharply at you. "Jim, a word please?" he asked, then turned and left the transporter room without sparing you a second glance. Tears sprang to your eyes but did not fall.

"Excuse me, everyone," Kirk replied. As he passed by you, he caught your hand and squeezed lightly. "Don't worry, remember what I said about opportunities?" he asked and you nodded. "Don't waste 'em," he said with a wink.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"How could you do this, Jim? How could you allow her back on board after what happened between us? The woman I love broke my heart when she left me--the ship!" McCoy thundered.

"Well, Bones, let's start with the fact that we need someone to head the Botany Department and Lab, and she's the best. Then we'll fill in the middle with how I don't think either one of us knows exactly what happened to make her leave. And we'll end with, oh, because it's my ship, I'm the captain and if I say we need her, then she re-joins the crew," Kirk concluded.

"Fine. If that will be all, Captain?" McCoy replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, Bones, that will be all," Kirk responded. McCoy turned to leave when Kirk briefly called him back. "For what it's worth, you could look at this as an opportunity to clear the air between you. At least you'd know, once and for all why she left, instead of always assuming it's your fault."

McCoy mumbled something under his breath as he walked out of the captain's Ready Room. Kirk shook his head at his CMO's antics when it came to you. He knew the two of you still loved each other, and firmly believed that you belonged together.

Kirk wished he knew what happened all those years ago to make you think your only choice was to leave your family and the man you loved. Something told him that whatever it was, it was bound to come out into the open. Hopefully when it did and the dust settled, everything would return to some semblance of normal.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The first few weeks aboard ship were a bit awkward. You were trying to get used to a working schedule again, and on top of that, trying to avoid the CMO at every turn. It didn't help that you had mutual friends who didn't hesitate to offer their advice on how to resolve things. They all swore they only wanted what was best for you and the good doctor. However, only the two of you could decide what that looked like, and at least for now, that meant avoiding each other.

One day, you were in the lab, cataloguing plant samples gathered during an away mission to Taegus-3. You made sure your team was taking extra safety precautions when handling the samples. "Be careful around these plants, some may have thorns. We also don't know yet if they're poisonous, so for now, use the bio-suits and the thick rubber gloves."

You were walking through Station #2 where a member of your team was performing tests on one of the samples. The young ensign turned away from her station, while you made notes on your clipboard about the plant she was working with.

As you were asking her some questions about her work, you felt something snaking its way around your exposed forearm. By the time you realized what was happening, the plant had started to apply pressure to your now vine-wrapped arm. Sulu heard the commotion and rushed over with a knife, which he then used to cut the vine from your arm. The vine fell away, but left red burn marks in your arm wherever the vine had come into contact with the skin.

"You'd better head down to the MedBay and have someone take a look at that," Sulu advised.

You looked at Sulu like you'd rather have the vine back on your arm, squeezing the life out of it until it snapped off than deal with Dr. McCoy. Eventually you relented and left the lab to get yourself checked out in the MedBay. You only hoped that it was Dr. McCoy's day off, because you didn't think you could deal with him at the moment.

Unfortunately, luck was not to be on your side today. Nurse Chapel called for him as soon as she saw you walk in the door. She had you sit on the biobed and started to check your vital signs. While she was discussing them with Dr. McCoy, a wave of dizziness crashed over you. It was also getting harder to breathe, which was detected by the biobed and it started sending out alarms.

McCoy and Nurse Chapel came racing over to you. "Damn plant must give off some sort of toxin when it wraps around its victims. Hold on, sweetheart, stay with me. We'll get you taken care of, don't you worry," he soothed.

As comforting as his words were, you knew he was in 'doctor mode'. It came naturally to him to use soft terms like 'sweetheart' to put his patients at ease. You knew those words didn't hold any affection towards you anymore like they used to. Whatever feelings may have been implied towards you by his words were likely to be a thing of the past.

"Hold still now, we're going to give you something to counteract the toxin," McCoy explained. He attached a hypospray to your neck and pressed the button to release the medication. Almost immediately, your breathing became easier and the dizziness slowly dissipated. In the meantime, he took the opportunity to bandage the vein-like burns in your forearm.

Once your condition seemed to be stabilized, all you could think of was to get out of the MedBay and back to your quarters. You eased yourself down from the biobed and took a few tentative steps towards the door.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, where do you think you're going?" McCoy demanded.

"Back to my quarters, Dr. McCoy. I thank you and Nurse Chapel for your assistance, but I can take care of myself from here. I hereby relieve you of your obligation to monitor my health any further," you retorted.

"I really don't think that's a good idea, sweetheart," he replied. "You could have a relapse, or develop a complication, or--" he started.

"DON'T. You don't get to call me 'sweetheart', or 'darlin', or anything that would indicate you remotely have any feelings of affection for me anymore," you shot back. Tears began prickling at your eyes, threatening to fall. "Ever since I got here, you've been avoiding me. In the mess hall, the rec area, even the turbolift for goodness' sake," you explained.

"Me?!? As far as I see it, Commander, it's been mutual avoidance. This is as much interaction as I've had with you since the day I saw you in Transporter Room #3. So, don't pin all of this on me," he snapped.

"I'm pretty sure you're not happy that I'm here, so I figured I'd stay out of your way as much as possible. To that end, I'm leaving and going back to my quarters," you informed him calmly.

"Yeah, that's right, I almost forgot. Leaving, that is what you do best, isn't it?" McCoy sneered.

You stopped walking towards the door, overcome by a sob too painful to hold in anymore. After taking a deep breath, you turned your tear-stained face to Dr. McCoy. "I suppose you're right. I've had that coming to me for the last eight years, haven't I?" you asked tearfully. You turned back towards the doors then left the MedBay and headed straight for your quarters.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After you left, McCoy stood there, with his hands on his hips and shaking his head. He wondered how the situation with you ever got to this point. He remembered how much in love the two of you were, sharing quarters, intertwining lives. For him, you were his whole world, the one he saw his future unfolding with. You loved him despite his flaws and the fact that he constantly thought that he didn't deserve you.

Your mutual friends were rooting for you both, and Joanna loved you as well. The two of you got along well, no hint of jealousy from her when it came to spending time with her father. He remembered how flattered you were when Joanna had once asked for your advice on something.

Jocelyn didn't seem to like you, but then again, she didn't love much of anything to do with him, except Joanna. On more than a few occasions, he'd heard Jocelyn throw snide remarks your way. But as was your nature, you took the high road, and Leonard felt you had handled his ex-wife with grace.

Then came Joanna's birthday party. He'd seen you and Jocelyn talking about something, then when you left her, you looked a little shaken up. McCoy didn't think much of it at the time, but you seemed a little distracted after the encounter. He tried to get you to talk to him about it, however, you assured him that you were tired and just needed some rest to feel better.

Two weeks after the party, without any prior discussion, you had left the Enterprise for a teaching position. Just like that, you were gone from his life, but not remotely gone from his heart. He'd met other women over the past eight years, but none of them could ever hold a candle to you. And deep down, Leonard McCoy knew that no one else ever would.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Back in your quarters, you went straight for the bathroom to splash water on your face as a way to calm down. How dare he! you thought. You had stayed away from him because you thought that's what he wanted. After all it was you who left him. Even though in your mind you knew it was for a good reason, there were still at least two broken hearts at the end of it.

You suddenly remembered what day it was, so you finished drying off your face with a towel. Today was Joanna McCoy's birthday, and she was turning 21, an important milestone. You hoped she was available to take your call, but if not, you would leave a birthday message for her.

Despite no longer being together with her father, you still kept in touch with Joanna over the years. She was a ray of sunshine in Leonard's life, and in yours as well. The last you had heard, she was participating in Starfleet's medical program, thus following in her father's footsteps.

You opened up the comms to send your message request to Joanna. A minute or so later, your video screen lit up with her smiling face and frantic waving at the camera. "Happy Birthday, Joanna!" you grinned.

"Thank you! It's so good to hear from you," she exclaimed.

"I sure wish I could give you a hug for your birthday, sweetie. How's school going for you?" you asked.

She launched into a few tales from her classes, with you nodding and smiling. One of her stories had you busting out in laughter so hard that tears were coming out of your eyes. For the most part, she had achieved the right balance between school and having fun, not an easy task.

"Hey, so Uncle Jim told me you're back on the Enterprise, is that right?" Joanna asked.

"Yes, that's right. Your uncle visited me about six weeks ago and asked me to run the Botany Department and Lab. I wasn't sure about coming back, but he eventually wore me down," you gave a small smile.

"Has he....has Dad seen you? Have you talked to him?" she asked carefully.

You nodded. "I had to go to the MedBay today, due to an unfortunate encounter with a plant from Taegus-3. It wrapped around my arm and wouldn't let go. I had to get a hypo for an allergic reaction, and bandages for my arm. Your dad patched me up just right," you explained.

"Good. Um....I have to ask you something. Do you remember my 13th birthday party?" she inquired.

"Joanna....," you warned.

"Do you remember it?" she tried again. You nodded and she continued. "I know something happened there, because two weeks later, you and Dad weren't together anymore. Why? You two were so happy together, and then you left. What happened?" Joanna demanded.

"Something I can't talk about, Jo, but my leaving was for the best. The best for you and the best for your dad," you replied.

"Best?!? How could it be best for you and Dad to be without each other for this long? Didn't you love him anymore? Was it my mom? Did she say something to you at that party?" Joanna persisted.

At her question, you looked away, and you knew you'd only fueled her curiosity. "Of course I still love him. I told you Joanna, I can't talk about it. Please don't push me on this. Listen, sweetie, I have to go now, but I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Take care, honey," you said.

"But---" was the last you'd heard of her voice before you terminated the connection. In the reflection of the view screen, you could see tears sliding down your face. You decided that you needed a drink, so you left your quarters and headed for the recreation area.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" Captain Kirk said as he saw you sitting at the bar.

You groaned at his presence, only wanting to be left alone. "Oh, god, Jim. What are YOU doing here?" you retorted.

"I heard you got hurt and went to MedBay today. Then I went by your quarters to check on you, only to find out you're not there. Figured I'd get a drink, and here you are," he replied.

"Jim, don't take this pershonally," you slurred. "But I want to be left alone. M'kay? Been a rotten day and I'm jusht done," you remarked as you drained your glass and signaled for a refill.

"What happened today?" he persisted.

"You think that just because you have that perfect hair and those bright blue eyes that I'm just gonna spill my guts?" you asked. A smirk crossed his face as he waited expectantly. "Fine. I'll tell you, you insufferable man. I called Joanna McCoy today, since it's her 21st birthday," you started.

"Thanks for the reminder, I'll have to call her later," Kirk interjected.

"Anyway, the topic of conversation got around to her 13th birthday party. She asked me why her dad and I aren't together anymore," you explained, tears threatening again.

"What did you tell her?" Kirk asked.

"I told her the same thing I'm going to tell you. I can't talk about it, but I did what I thought was best for her and for Leonard," you replied. "Now, drop it, Jim," you warned.

"Sorry, no can do. Bones and I both saw Jocelyn talking to you at the party, then the rest of the night you seemed a little upset. Don't get me wrong, you put on a brave face. You fooled most everyone, but Leonard and I knew that something wasn't right. Look, it's been eight years. Don't you think it's time to spill the beans?" Kirk wondered.

"Jim, no good can come from this. Best just to let sleeping dogs lie," you said as you tried again to shut him down.

"Please, let me in. I can see how much this is hurting you, and I think Len finally deserves to know the truth. Don't you think so?" Kirk pleaded.

A few tears had slipped down your face, and you nodded, your resolve having broken at last. "It started when I was in the kitchen putting candles on Joanna's cake. I thought I would do that to make myself useful, help Jocelyn so it was one less thing she had to worry about. Wrong move, because she read me the riot act about how it's her job to do that and I should just back off," you said.

"Ungrateful b....please go on," he prompted.

"I apologized, but she refused to accept it. Instead, she gave me an ultimatum. I had to stop seeing Leonard or she would refuse to let him see Joanna. At first, I couldn't believe she was serious, but one look in her eyes and I knew she was. That's why I was so distant the rest of the night. I tried to put Leonard off by saying I was just tired, but I don't think he was convinced," you remarked.

"Why didn't you tell Len? Or me? We would've found a way to fight this," Kirk insisted.

"I know you would have, and I love you both for it. She said if I told anyone, her next stop was the courthouse. Don't you see? She held all the cards, and I had nothing," you explained.

"You didn't have 'nothing', you had Len and me," Kirk replied.

"Think about it. If I fought her, then she took Len to court and he lost, it's my fault. If I refused to stop seeing Leonard, she would not let him see his daughter. My fault again. Either way, Jim, Leonard and Joanna lose. I couldn't bear for that to happen, so I left. As much as I loved him, and still do, his relationship with his daughter is and always will be more important," you finished. Tears were now streaming unchecked down your face.

"Whoa. I knew she was a piece of work, but I didn't know exactly how much. Bones would be livid if he found out that Jocelyn is the reason you're not together," Kirk replied.

"And that's exactly why I didn't want to tell you. Jim, please, I'm begging you. Let this go," you implored as you slid off your barstool. Jim turned to you and pulled you into his comforting embrace. "I'm going to go sleep this off, okay? I'll be taking a sick day tomorrow," you added. "Goodnight, Jim."

"Goodnight," he called after you then returned his attention to his drink.

"Poor kid. Hate to see a pretty girl cry. So, knowing you, I'd bet that you have no intention of letting this go, do you, Captain?" Tony, the bartender, asked.

"Nope," he replied, downing the rest of his drink. "I gotta find a way to make this right if it's the last thing I do. Thanks, Tony," he said before leaving to go to his quarters. Once there, he opened a comms channel to send a message to his niece. The video screen popped up with Joanna's picture.

"Uncle Jim!! So great to see you," she gushed.

"Happy Birthday, honey. Listen, I know about a conversation you had earlier, that involved a certain someone and your dad," Kirk remarked. "I finally got her to tell me what happened at your birthday party."

"She told me she couldn't tell me, but she could tell you?" Joanna asked angrily.

"Hold on there, sweetie. In her defense, she'd had a lot to drink by the time I caught up with her," Kirk explained.

"Oh. Well, I asked Mom about it, but she wouldn't tell me either. Please tell me what happened, I want to know," Joanna begged.

"Sure thing, kiddo. Then we're going to brainstorm on how to get the two of them back together," Kirk winked.

"Ooh yay! So, tell me," she persisted.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dr. McCoy trudged into his quarters and sat down on the couch. He grabbed a communication tablet and sent a signal to his daughter, to wish her a happy birthday. Unfortunately, Jocelyn picked up the tablet and answered.

"Joanna's busy right now, Leonard. Call her back later," Jocelyn replied curtly as she moved to disconnect the call.

"Wait, Jocelyn! Will you please let her know that I called to wish her a happy birthday?" McCoy asked.

"Your girlfriend already called earlier and spoke to Joanna. I just assumed you were in the room at the time," Jocelyn remarked.

"What girlfriend? I don't know what you're talking about," McCoy replied. He was starting to get an uneasy feeling the more he talked to his ex-wife.

Jocelyn made a tsking sound of disgust. "The same one that was here on Joanna's 13th--" she broke off and a smug smile crossed her face. "Never mind. I guess she took my advice then."

McCoy's face drained of color. "And just what advice was that? It's been eight years, Jocelyn, you'll have to refresh my memory," he retorted.

"What difference does it make? She must not have been as devoted to you as you were to her. She left you, therefore, you got to keep seeing your daughter," Jocelyn shot back.

The pieces started to come together in McCoy's mind, and it was showing him a pretty ugly picture. "You threatened her. Didn't you?" he seethed. "Why, Jocelyn? What has she ever done to you?" he demanded.

"Joanna called her 'Mom', that's what!" Jocelyn exclaimed. "When Joanna came home from that week-long vacation with the two of you, she was telling me about how much fun she'd had. She slipped and referred to your girlfriend as 'Mom'. I am her mother! I will not be replaced by some flavor-of-the-month!" she shrieked.

"ENOUGH, MOM!" Joanna's voice came through clearly. "Hi, Dad," she greeted McCoy.

"Hiya, pumpkin," he drawled. "Happy Birthday, sweetheart," he replied softly. "Did you know about this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his daughter.

"Dad, nobody knew anything about it until she told Uncle Jim tonight. And he said that it was only after a lot of alcohol that she would even tell him. She's kept this horrible secret for all this time, because she wanted you to be happy and able to keep visiting me. She still loves you, Dad, I know she does. Please tell me you still love her," Joanna pleaded.

McCoy turned his face away from the view screen, but not before his daughter caught a glimpse of his watery eyes. "I never stopped loving her, Jo. Not even when she left. I was angry and hurt, but....yes, I still love her," he declared, his voice thick with emotion.

"Then you know what you have to do, Daddy. Go tell her," Joanna whispered the last part. "Consider it my birthday present," she grinned mischievously. "I love you."

"You got it, sweetheart. I'll let you know how it goes. Later, though," McCoy promised with a grin of his own. "I love you," he told her before the call disconnected.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The view screen clicked off, while McCoy digested all of the information he'd just been given. All these years, he mused. The two of you could've been happy together, maybe even engaged or married. Instead, his ex-wife and her jealousy got in the way of that with her threats of denying him visitation rights.

He'd been so wrapped up in his own emotions since you've been back, that he hadn't stopped to consider how you may be feeling. He had been convinced that the reason you left was because you didn't love him anymore. Now he knew that the exact opposite was true. You loved him so much that you sacrificed your own happiness with him so he could continue to see his daughter.

Leonard knew that he had to make things right between you. It couldn't have been easy to come back to work on the Enterprise, knowing at any moment you could run into each other. But, you pushed those feelings and worries aside to help Jim by running the Botany Department and Lab.

He had to admit, it's been awkward since you've been back. He didn't expect the old feelings of love to come rushing back at the first sight of you that day in Transporter Room #3. As much as your leaving had hurt him and the radio silence throughout the years, he still loved you. And now, he grinned to himself, it was time to do something about it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You left the rec area and had gone back to your quarters for the night. When you got back, you changed out of your uniform and put on your pink plaid pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt. You made sure it was short-sleeved because of the bandages on your arm from the Strangling Vine Incident earlier in the day. After grabbing a glass of water and two pain meds, you settled into place on the couch. "Computer, illumination at 30% please," you requested.

What a day. First you were attacked by an alien vine, forcing you to get checked out in the MedBay by your ex-boyfriend and CMO. Later, you couldn't even find peace in the rec area. The CMO's best friend and captain of the ship kept hounding you about something that took place eight years ago. You'd told him to drop it, but he refused until you spilled that horrible secret.

Now Jim knows, but knowing about it didn't change anything. No matter how much you still loved him, Leonard surely didn't love you anymore. He'd made that quite clear today with his parting remark as you left the MedBay. You continued to sip at your water, each tilt of the glass with a shakier hand than before.

Off in the distance you heard your door chime, indicating someone at your door. "Come in," you called. You were shocked to see Dr. McCoy walk in. "Excuse me for asking, Doctor, but what the hell are you doing here?" you demanded, arms crossed over your chest.

His eyes locked with yours and you almost gave in to the softness you thought you saw, but you stood your ground. He cleared his throat before speaking. "I'm here to check your bandages. You left the MedBay so quickly, I wanted to make sure that the wound was still covered," he explained.

You rolled your eyes. "Really, Doctor? Is that the best excuse you could come up with? You didn't even bring your medkit, and I really don't have time for this. Goodnight, Dr. McCoy," you retorted.

"Now wait just a minute. As Chief Medical Officer, I am responsible for the health and safety of all crew members. I can see right now that you look a little flushed, which could mean a fever and possibly an infection. Just a quick exam. It'll be painless, I promise," he pleaded, his hands raised.

You arched an eyebrow in skepticism but finally relented. "Fine. A quick exam, then I'm going to bed and you can see yourself out," you muttered.

He stood in front of you, first looking at the bandaged arm, then sliding his hands up your arms to rest on your shoulders. He peered into your eyes and could see how bloodshot they were, probably from the tears you'd been shedding lately. He checked the lymph nodes on your neck to see if they were swollen, but they were fine.

He patted down his uniform, checking his pockets. "Hmm. I don't have a tricorder with me, so I'll have to check your temp the old fashioned way," he remarked. Before you could utter a word, his lips meshed with your forehead.

The second his soft lips touched your skin, something inside you fluttered. You closed your eyes and gave a sigh of contentment before you could stop yourself. "Doctor....," you whispered.

"Shh. Still checkin' your temp, darlin'. And it's Leonard, by the way. You used to call me that, remember?" he murmured against your skin.

Your eyes flew open and you stepped back. "Wait a minute. Why are you really here?" you asked.

"I already told you, to check your bandages. Besides, I want to apologize for what happened earlier in the MedBay, as you were walking out. I shouldn't have said that," McCoy started.

You backed further away from him as the realization sunk in. "Oh no, no, no, you've been talking to Jim, haven't you?" you replied. "I told him to drop it, that no good can come from dredging up something that happened eight years ago. Dammit, does that man ever listen?" you ranted, pacing the floor.

"Hold on there for a minute, sweetheart. I didn't talk to Jim, I called Joanna to wish her a happy birthday. Jocelyn picked up because Joanna was busy. Jocelyn was the one who admitted what happened, not Jim," McCoy explained.

"Leonard, I'm so sorry about what happened all those years ago. I truly thought I was doing the right thing by leaving. But all I've done is cause tremendous heartache for the people I love," you admitted, breaking down into tears yet again.

McCoy walked over and put his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. His hand came up and stroked the back of your head. "Shh, it’s okay, darlin'. I just wish I had known about it then. You never should've had to shoulder that burden all by yourself. Did you ever plan on telling me?" he asked.

You leaned back just far enough to lock eyes with him. "I couldn't, Len. Jocelyn said if I did, she would take you to court and fix it so you couldn't see Joanna at all. I know that custody hearings can go either way, and there's no way I could take the chance that you might lose. So I thought my only option was to step aside. I'd rather have you hate me but keep visitation rights for your daughter, than to love me and not have her," you said as you broke down again.

"Oh, Sugar, I could never hate you," he replied softly, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. "When I found out that you left, I was so angry and hurt. Mostly because you'd made a decision alone that affected both of us. But when you came back and I saw you on that transporter pad all those weeks ago, I thought I had a second chance. Probably screwed that up too, though, haven't I?" he chuckled and so did you.

"Nah. You haven't done anything of the sort. I have missed you so much. After enough time had gone by, I thought about reaching out to you. Then I figured that too much time had gone by and you'd be with someone else. Which would've been fine, as long as you were happy, that's all that would matter to me," you remarked.

"Well, I haven't exactly been living like a monk, you know. I've met other women over the years, but none of them compared to you and no one ever will, either. Which is good, because I don't want any pale imitations or substitutions. I only want the real thing," he admitted just before crashing his lips into yours.

You felt the depth of his emotion poured into that first kiss and returned it with equal fervor. The apologies, the regrets, the longing for each other you still had after all these years. And the love you'd been keeping hidden from each other but never fully let show until now.

"Oh, my love," you whispered. "I've missed you so much, Leonard," you replied hoarsely.

"I've missed you too. I love you so much, Sugar. Can we please agree to not ever be separated like that again? I don't think my heart can take another minute without you," he remarked.

"Mine either. No more separations like that, because with you is where I belong. I love you, Len," you declared. You ran your hands up his arms and cradled his neck between them. Your fingers slid through his jet-black hair, smirking as you teased the short hairs at the base of his collar.

"Oh, there's my naughty girl, I wondered where she'd gone," McCoy growled playfully as he tightened his embrace.

"She's been right here, all along. Just waiting for the right time to come home," you replied softly, then tugged him closer for another kiss.

This kiss was different than before. This one was slow, sensuous and held the promise of a new beginning. As your mouths moved against each other, there was just enough of an opening between you for Leonard's tongue to slip through. He took full advantage of the opportunity, and when your tongues met, a moan of pleasure escaped from you.

Leonard's hands roamed up and down your back as he nudged his way to your neck. "Darlin', you're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin. He left a few open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone, nipping as he went and ultimately leaving his mark on you for all to see.

Layers of clothing were shed one by one. Little by little, Leonard nudged you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You climbed up onto the mattress, crawling until you reached the middle where he soon joined you and leaned down to kiss you.

His hands and mouth took their time in worshiping every inch of your exposed skin, as if re-committing it to memory. Your mouth and hands were doing the same, reacquainting yourself with every muscle, every detail of his exquisite bare body.

The silence of your room was punctuated with breathy words of affection and moans of ecstasy from the two of you. Layers of passion were built higher and higher as you both chased your release. Finally, you both tumbled over the edge, one after the other, each whispering declarations of love.

Later, after you both got cleaned up, Leonard came back to bed and settled under the covers with you. He wrapped his arm around you so that your head rested on his chest. You could hear his steady heartbeat, which brought out a sigh of contentment from you.

"Len?" you whispered. He hummed in response, drawing random patterns on your shoulder. "Is this okay? I mean, what just happened, I don't want this to be a one-time thing. I'd like us to try again. I-If that's what you want," you hastily added.

He shifted so that he was propped up on his side, looking down at you. His hand cupped your face, while his thumb caressed your cheek. "Sweetheart, I've wanted that ever since you set foot back on this ship. I may be a little late in sayin' so, but I never stopped lovin' you. If you'll have me, I would love to try being us again," he replied softly.

"I would love that very much," you answered. "I love you, Leonard."

"I love you too, darlin'. Welcome home," he whispered, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @spacedancer1701 @anna-phora

#aimees1600wc #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard bones mccoy x reader #bones x reader #bones mccoy x reader #star trek aos

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actress4him · 4 years ago

Text

Bonus Whumptober Content

I had no plans originally of continuing the story from Whumptober Day 28. As far as I was concerned, it ended badly and that was that.

But you can all thank @outtacommission , because I was bribed into continuing it!

If you need a refresher on the original chapter, click the link above or read it on AO3.

This is the start of the new content, which ended up being super long, so I broke it up into three short chapters. I’m really excited and nervous to share this. Writing sequels for oneshots that weren’t originally supposed to be continued is...tough. This is the second time I’ve done it, and I always feel like the continuation isn’t as good as the original. But I’m pretty happy with how this turned out, so I hope that you guys enjoy it, too!

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Warnings: (big spoilers!) needles, implied CPR, broken bones, blood, brain damage, paralysis, amputation, panic attacks

“Quiznak. Oh, holy quiznak, Keith?”

“He’s not breathing. I’ve got no pulse.”

“Hold him steady, I’m cutting the back of this chair off so we can get to the shrapnel.”

“Come on, Keith. Breathe. Breathe!”

“Look, I found this in Red’s first aid kit. I’m a universal donor.”

“Get it hooked up, he needs everything we can give him.”

“Please, Keith. Please.”

“Shiro, his ribs…”

“I know. They’ll heal.”

“Wait! Look!”

“Oh my g-...okay. Okay. Hurry, let’s get him to the Black Lion. I’ll need you to ride with him so you can keep up the transfusion.”

“Right behind you.”

Consciousness came in spurts. The first time, he surfaced from the never-ending blackness to nothing but cold and pain, and the feeling that his insides were twisted into a big knot and trying their best to exit his body. As he retched, body automatically jerking to try to sit up or roll over and sending even more pain shooting through him, frantic voices surrounded him.

“...reaction...blood…!”

“But...O neg...shouldn’t…”

Somebody scooped him up like a baby and ran, jarring his screaming abdomen with every step, before depositing him onto a semi-soft surface.

“...Galra…”

“...sample...synthesize more…”

The words meant nothing to him. All he knew was pain and nausea, and a blur of lights and movement above him.

Just before he passed out again, there was a sharp prick in his forearm that momentarily drew his attention away from the rest of the pain. He couldn’t find the energy to protest it.

The second time, voices were the first to filter in, hushed tones that sounded as if they were speaking a foreign language. His eyes fluttered open, but the bright lights overhead made him wince and squeeze them back shut.

“You’re okay,” someone soothed, the only words he could actually pick out from among the rest. “You’ll be just fine. Go back to sleep, now.”

There was a prick on the back of his hand, and he whimpered involuntarily. But a moment later the nothingness was taking back over, and he gladly slipped underneath.

The next time he woke, he had no recollection of the first two times, or of anything that happened before, but for some reason he was surprised to be waking up. Somehow, he didn’t think he was going to do so. But here he was, awake. Only, he had no idea where here was.

“Keith? Bud? You with us?”

He knew that voice. Turning his head toward it, he willed his eyes to open, and after a moment, they obeyed. A blur of yellow and brown met him.

“Hey, bud! It’s good to see those eyes open. Can you hear me?”

Keith blinked, trying to bring the person into focus. Once their features had solidified enough that he could make out dark brown eyes and a smile, he licked his chapped lips and attempted to speak.

“Hunk.” For some reason the N dragged on for much longer than he had intended, but it was a word, regardless.

“Yeah! That’s me! Oh my gosh, you have no idea how happy I am that you’re awake and okay.”

How long had he been asleep? It must have been a while for Hunk to be worried. And he was pretty sure he felt okay, though maybe a bit numb overall. Maybe he really had been asleep for a long time. It kinda felt like he was waking up after one of those naps you take while you’re sick and your fever breaks in the middle of it.

He licked his lips again, to no avail. “‘hirsty.”

“Yep, yep, I’m sure you are.” Hunk turned and snatched something up off a nearby table, bringing it toward Keith’s face. “Here ya go. Small sips.”

The water was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted in his life. He wanted to gulp it all down, ignoring what he had been told, but Hunk pulled it away after only a couple of seconds.

“Okay, I’m gonna go get Shiro and Fallenta and let them know you’re awake, alright? I’ll be right back.”

Keith struggled to process that sentence. He didn’t think he recognized one of those names, and he still couldn’t figure out why him being awake was such a big deal. Unless...he had gotten hurt in one of their fights. But then why wouldn’t he be waking up from the pod, not in whatever bed this was?

“Wha...happened?” His words continued to come out strangely, despite his best efforts. Maybe he had been sleeping on his face, because it was one of those numb parts of him that didn’t seem to want to move properly.

Hunk froze at the doorway, turning slowly to face him. “Um...what do you remember?”

It was a good question. Wrinkling his brow, he searched his still half-dazed mind, trying and failing to grasp at the snippets of memories that danced by. It didn’t take long for his head to start hurting, and he shut his eyes, giving up for the moment. “Don’t know. A fight?” He had a vague recollection of being in Red recently. “In the Lions?”

“Um, yeah, well, that’s...one thing that happened.” Hunk seemed nervous, fidgeting with his hands. “I’m gonna go, um, get the others, and they can tell you everything, ‘kay?” Without giving Keith a chance to protest, he disappeared through the door.

Keith sighed, and tested out various parts of his body. Other than most of his right side being curiously numb, and an almost unnoticeable ache in a couple more places, everything seemed to be working properly. He had been in Red right before waking up there...right? Maybe she could tell him what was going on.

Only when he closed his eyes and reached for their connection, he came up empty. There was nothing there. No hum, no purr, nothing. His heart leapt into his throat. Red! Red, where are you? What if something had happened to her? What if she was gone? What if he had done something to make her reject him, and he wasn’t even a paladin anymore, what if that’s what Hunk didn’t want to tell him? If he wasn’t a paladin anymore, then he’d...he’d be nothing. Useless. There would be absolutely no reason for him to be in the Castle anymore, in space at all. The other paladins would take him back to Earth and dump him off, and he’d have no one and nothing yet again.

The door opened, and Keith shot upright, ignoring the way it made his head swim and that ache in his ribs twinge. “I can’t feel Red! I can’t...what happened? Where’s Red?”

“Hey! Hey, shh, Keith, it’s okay!” Shiro was across the room in an instant, sitting down on the side of the bed and grasping Keith’s shoulders in both his hands. “I need you to calm down for me, okay? I’ll explain, but I need you to take deep breaths.”

Drawing in one such breath to appease the man, Keith glanced around the room, taking in Hunk’s worried expression and the alien stranger that stood on the other side of his bed. “Somebody please just tell me what's going on.” The words were still slurred, which was getting more frustrating by the second. “Why’m I here?”

He hated the look that Shiro shot up at the alien before catching his eyes again. They were treating him like a fragile child. Even when he was a child, he had gotten more bad news in his few years than most adults did in their whole lives, so it wasn’t like he didn’t always expect more.

“You were in an accident,” Shiro finally explained, still speaking far too slowly and softly. “You and Red got hit with a zaiforge cannon and crashed into a nearby planet. Do you remember?”

Keith already knew he didn’t, so he wasn’t going to waste time searching his memory when he still wanted answers. “Where’s Red? Is she okay?”

Offering a sympathetic smile, Shiro squeezed his shoulder with his flesh hand. “She’s in rough shape. All her systems are shut down right now. But Pidge and Coran and Hunk have been working on her, and they’re optimistic that everything can be fixed. With time.”

Letting all his breath out with a whoosh, Keith slumped over forward. It was simultaneous good news and bad news. Red hadn’t rejected him, or at least he didn’t think so. But he hated that she was so badly hurt. “I wanna see her.”

Shiro’s smile twitched up a little higher. “I know. But first, we need to check on you. You’ve been unconscious for quite a while. Everything seems to have healed up alright, but there were some things that couldn’t be tested while you were out.”

As if this was their cue, the alien - an objectively pretty, willowy creature with mauve fur, four long, thin arms, and a myriad of long, thin fingers on each hand - stepped forward. Their voice was light and feminine, and had a lilting accent that reminded him of Lance when he fell into his native tongue.

“I am going to give you some simple instructions to follow, okay?”

Keith frowned. “Who ‘re you?”

“Oh, yes, right.” Shiro indicated the newcomer with one hand. “This is Fallenta. She’s a Tellimite. They’re one of the most medically advanced species in the universe. We wanted to make sure you had the best care possible, so Allura brought us to Tellima as soon as we had you in the pod. Fallenta has been...indispensable.”

His explanation only caused Keith more confusion. If he had been in a pod, then why did he need a doctor? And again, why was he in some bed now?

Seeming to sense his questions, Fallenta smiled and settled down opposite Shiro. “There were some...complications from your injuries. Coran and Shiro made the right call by placing you into a healing pod right away, knowing that it was the only way to save your life, but that meant that your bones that were broken could not be reset before healing. One of my jobs was to correct this once your abdomen wound was no longer life threatening.”

“Yes, you actually had two different stints in the pod,” Shiro nodded. His brow furrowed. “Well, three, if you count the time that your body rejected the blood Pidge had given you and started trying to shut down. Thankfully, Coran had those samples he took from all of us at the beginning, and was able to synthesize some more of yours.”

Keith couldn’t stand the troubled expression on Shiro’s face, especially since he had been the one to put it there. Lifting his left arm, he gently squeezed his brother’s elbow. “I’m okay now.”

Shiro smiled, but there was a sheen to his eyes. “You have no idea how relieved I am about that.”

“Your cognition seems to be just fine,” Fallenta said, “and losing memory of the traumatic event is not uncommon. There are a few other things I need to check, though.”

She spent the next few minutes shining a flashlight into his eyes, asking him some questions about things that happened prior to the accident, getting him to remember a short list of objects, and observing his reactions to various movements and sounds. All of it led Keith to believe that it was his brain being tested, and it made him nervous. No one would tell him anything else, though, simply repeating that they would explain everything shortly.

It seemed to be going well, though, and everyone was smiling and calm, so he tried not to let it get to him. Until Fallenta moved on to testing sensations. She started on his left arm, lightly touching it with her finger, then poking her claw into his skin, then digging in her knuckle. Everything felt like it should.

“Alright, the right arm, now.” She smiled at him and held his gaze, but after a moment of nothing further happening, her smile faded into a neutral expression. Another moment, and he was wondering why she hadn’t done the test yet.

“Do you feel any of this, Keith?”

“What?” He looked down, and her finger was on his forearm. As he watched, she moved it up and down his arm, tapping lightly. He swallowed hard. “It's...it's been really numb e’er since I woke up. My face an’ leg, too.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shiro stiffen. “What does that mean?”

Fallenta smiled again, and as nice of a smile as it was, he was beginning to hate it. “Let’s complete the tests, and I will be able to tell you more. Can you feel this?”

This time he watched as she pricked him with her claw, and to his relief, there was a faint jolt of pain. “A little. It's muted, though.”

“That’s good. And this?” She used her knuckle that time, and again, the pressure was faint.

“Same. What's wrong with my arm?” he demanded, glaring first at her, then Shiro. “Why can’t I talk right?”

“Have patience -”

“No!” Keith yanked his arm away from her with far more effort than should have been required. “I'm out of patience! Tell me what's wrong!”

Shiro put a hand on Fallenta’s shoulder, nodded at her, then reached forward and took Keith’s hand. “When we found you…” He paused, his jaw clenching and eyes flicking away for a split second before he seemed to steel himself to continue. “Your heart had stopped. It’s impossible to say how long you had been like that. I was able to get it started again, but it took a few minutes. So your brain…” Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out in a sigh. “It was without oxygen for several minutes, at the least. Brain damage has been a concern from the very start. When I said you have no idea how relieved I am that you’re okay...it was possible that you wouldn’t ever wake up. Or if you did, that you wouldn’t be able to function at all.” An errant tear slipped out, and he dashed it away with his metal hand. “But you’re here. You’re awake, and you can speak and think and...and it’s gonna be okay. I promise, it’s gonna be okay.”

Brain damage? The words hit him like a blow to the chest. That meant his arm...his face...they weren’t just numb, they were...they were…

He ripped his hand from Shiro’s grip. “How can you say it's gonna be okay? Do you hear me? I soun’ stupid! An’ my arm...how’m I supposed to fight an’ fly if I can barely move my arm?”

“But you still have some movement and sensation,” Fallenta broke in. “That is very good news. It means that, with physical therapy, you can regain even more use. You can even have speech therapy to help you build up your facial muscles.”

“Speech therapy?” He almost laughed at that. “We’re in the middle of a war, we don’ have time for speech therapy!”

Shiro’s hand landed on his leg. “We’ll make it work, Keith.”

“No. No.” He shook his head harshly. “Get off. Get off me, I need...” Flailing his one good hand toward Shiro and Fallenta, he gritted his teeth against the tears that wanted to fall. The weight on either side of the bed moved as the two of them stood. “I need some air. I need...” Red, that’s what he needed. He reached for the corner of the blanket that covered his legs. “I’m gonna -”

“Keith, wait!”

Shiro and Hunk both lunged, but it was too late. He had already flipped the blanket to the side, revealing what lay underneath.

Or rather, what didn’t lay underneath.

He was gonna be sick.

His leg. It was…it was missing from the knee down.

Keith screamed.

The next minutes or hours were a blur of tears and pain in his chest and breaths that wouldn’t come. He vaguely recalled Shiro being in front of him, his lips moving but no sound coming out. He vaguely recalled thrashing and slamming his head into the wall behind him.

After that, though, the nothingness took back over.

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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 2 of 3)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

When you're done freshening up, dinner's already underway. The scent of vegetables and broth hits your nose, and the cold temperature left behind by the storm brings forth an additional hint as to what the monster's cooking up for dinner. You try to stay soundless as you sneak off to the kitchen and stand behind him, looking over his shoulder when you make it there.

"I can tell you're here, pal," Sans says, chuckling.

He turns to you with a spoon held out in his hand. There's a sample of soup on it, waiting to be tested. The scent reminds you of having missed lunch break due to the stormy weather, with the hours it lasted bringing forth your boss's decision to call the rest of your shift off. You were supposed to be at your last meeting by now, but the rain and wind had proven to be superior, canceling all plans. Less work meant less pay, though you try to refrain yourself from worrying too much about that right now. "Taste it." He offers it out to you, still waiting. You, on the other hand, take a while to do anything, overthinking the situation as you then debate on whether to grab the spoon or taste it right off his hand. The first option had the risk of you brushing hands with the monster and spilling the soup in the process, yet tasting it right off his hand was almost unthinkable to do.

Another thought pops into your mind, and that's whether it was fine to trust the skeleton by tasting the food and giving him the benefit of the doubt about it not being tampered with. Though you knew him for a few months now, it's still impossible not to acknowledge a possibility like that one. If a man you'd known for so many years had ended up leaving you, only to make a scene like yesterday's when trying to get back with you, who's to say a stranger with customs far different from yours wouldn't do something similar -- or worse?

You remind yourself of your main and original task: confronting him and the rest of the monsters over the choices they made back at the Underground, regardless of how charming and kind they were being with you currently. Sans was no less of an exception. This wasn't only for Frisk's safety and their overall state of well-being, but for your reputation as their parent -- and for your peace of mind, too.

You figure you've taken too long based on how the skeleton backs the spoon away.

His grin widens, and he then sips the contents off the spoon, leaving it empty. "I promise it ain't poisoned." He gives his back to you as he goes to wash the spoon, offering it to you after it's been cleaned. "You can taste it now." Sans moves aside, creating space for you to step forward and scoop a bit of the soup still bubbling in the pot.

Just as you're about to eat it though, he says, "I'm not the best cook around, so go ahead and lemme know if it tastes funny."

A smile forms on your face when you hear that, captivated by the idea of him having no clue how to begin cooking, and even more considering he was at your home instead of his. If it was often difficult for beginners to cook in the familiarity of their own home, you can't imagine how it must feel doing that at another person's place. For a moment, you wish you could've seen him in the process of cooking, an opportunity you'd lost while you went off to shower and change.

When you taste it, what's missing drops into your thoughts; years of having cooked at home reveal the capability of identifying that quickly. You consider the suggestion and confirm what the soup's lacking when you clean up the spoon and take a second sample off the pot. "It's good," you say, setting it aside. "Just needs a bit of salt and more time to stew. The rest is fine."

"Thanks," he replies, hands going back to his pockets. "Paps wants to improve his cooking, so I figured I've gotta better mine some more before I teach 'im anything."

Again, your mind finds itself in a conflict. While it's charmed by the thoughtfulness of that comment, it's also clouded by the morose reminder of why you'd asked him to stay for dinner in the first place. To distract yourself, you add the missing ingredient to the soup and walk with Sans to the couch while it finishes boiling.

It feels strange to sit so far apart from each other, but he doesn't close off the distance, nor do you.

You prop a leg over the other and rest a hand over your knee, bouncing the one on the floor when you lack anything more to say. Your thoughts scramble around as you try to find a way to make the situation less awkward. When you glance back at him, you see it's something he also seems to want to end; your gaze meets with his when you both decide to look at each other's side -- synchronizing.

He shifts closer and you do the same, continuing until your hands touch.

Almost immediately, you pull back, yet your gaze remains locked with his, eyes drifting down to his teeth. Even as he gets nearer, you stay put, lost in your thoughts and the risky scenario unfolding. Your brain and heart scream at you to stop; your body -- conversely -- refuses to move out of its current spot and rebels by inching closer to him, until you're near enough to catch the scent of the only soap brand you often bought for showering: soft-scented, cheap, and antibacterial. It's strange to catch that aroma from someone other than yourself. Frisk preferred using a different kind, making the situation much more intimate than you would like it to feel.

You grab his hand again as he leans into you, only stopping himself when your back presses against the armrest. Then, he pulls his hand back and uses both to hold your shoulders and corner you right into place. Height difference makes it so that his legs stay knelt on the couch while yours hang off it, these tucked aside as you focus on the matter at hand. He brings himself closer as he tries to level out your heights, grip on you staying. The sound of your heart and of the soup simmering by the kitchen are the only two other things to keep your mind occupied from what's happening; anticipation makes your breaths waver.

As if the situation couldn't get tense enough, the door of the living room opens and in barge two people, leaving you in an iced state.

Rather than Frisk and Toriel, it's Frisk and Jerry who stand at the frame, one casting a look of betrayal at the monster while the other scrutinizes the scene. You try standing up, yet the monster's hands hold you back, body held up over yours -- still cornered. His face reveals nothing but conflict, an expression similar to your state of mind regarding how freely to act with him.

Jerry leaves without a word and shuts the door too slow for it to even click. Frisk does the rest of the job for him by locking it, checking it again, and saying nothing themselves as they look at you in the eye and sign, "Can we talk later, ren?"

Still in a tough position, you nod once, lacking strength or words to say anything out loud.

Sans doesn't move even as Frisk disappears into the hallway.

You see his irises falter when you look at him; his gaze isn't fully there. A few drops of sweat are present on his forehead, and you can feel his hands grow colder with each second. "...Are you okay, Sans?" you ask, voice faint. "I, um... I think the soup should be ready now."

You hope that's enough to snap him out of it, only to have that contradicted when his hold on you stays. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he mutters, huffing, "I failed you."

Sans moves back while you sit up straight; silence returns. He stands up and goes to turn off the stove, all done within more time than you would expect as he chooses to stay there a few more minutes, staring aimlessly at the kitchen's wares. You rest your hands on your knees, and you wait to see what he does next. There's not much you can do now that you were caught in a moment like that one, and there's no time to beat yourself up over it, either. All you can do's admit your blame where it best seemed fit, and that was in letting your inner voice act before you. You'd given it your strongest efforts to wait until your first year of college to date Jerry, only to then wait until you had a stabler job by your second semester to actually do anything more serious with him, and later waited six more years alone, watching as Frisk grew up in your care for most of the time, only to let your wants show through now of all times.

Excuse through excuse -- be it valid or not -- you'd restricted yourself at every moment you saw possible.

All that, and yet it still felt as if you hadn't done enough.

You wanted to be stronger.

"Frisk told me 'bout your situation," Sans says, distracting you from your thoughts. "Not whatever happened with Jerry, but the way you see monsters, and well… me, in general." He turns away from the kitchen and sits back down on the couch, looking directly at you, though for wholly different reasons than earlier ago. His hand stays over yours, more comforting than sultry. Were you to know him for any longer, you would've assumed he's holding his soul on his sleeve, yet you remind yourself he's still a stranger. "Maybe this's my habits showin' up, but if I were to judge you based on what they told me, I'd say you're labeling yourself as the bad guy." His fingers intersect with yours, squeezing your palm. "Of all the things I've gotten to learn about you, this's one of the least you should be blamin' yourself for. If anything, you're not exactly the only one responsible for all that's been happenin' right now."

Your breaths grow tighter the longer you keep listening to him. Your heart's racing again, yet it's not the same as before. The monster lets your hand go, continuing with, "I can't tell you just how different we are from each other, and how much I wish I had a fraction the amount of willpower you and your kid have." He sighs; a hint of a smile shows despite the furrow in his gaze. "You've got some things right about me, and one of 'em's havin' chosen to act too late. Being unable to be there for those I care about, more specifically." His nose cavity flares as he lets out a stifled laugh, remorse showing in spite of his best efforts not to let that happen. "I hate who I used to be, and even now, I still feel like I could've done more. I wanna try harder, but I don't have a clue on where to start with that."

Sans tries to stand up, yet fails to. He heaves out a breath as he closes his eye sockets and surrenders himself back on the couch; he rests his elbow over the armrest and lets his chin rest on his hand. After that, he looks back to your side, an apologetic gaze showing as his grin widens and his crease deepens, the way his monster anatomy worked allowing him to further display similar movements to that of a human narrowing their gaze. "Keep taking credit where it's due, (Y/N). And when you've got somethin' you want to improve, try your best to overcome it." He pauses, and the crease in his gaze lessens as he casts a fonder look at you. "Not that you ain't tryin' already. But you're still takin' up too much of the blame, and not realizing when you can be free. It doesn't have to be with me -- or anybody else, for that matter -- but try to live life a lil' more. Don't just dwell on the past and restrain yourself from stuff you want to achieve for yourself. You should live for you, just as you're tryna live for others."

He closes his eye sockets and brings a hand to his face, rubbing his forehead until he lets out a hushed sigh. Then, he opens them and straightens up on his seat, hands resting on his lap. There's a brief pause, broken when he breathes in again, saying, "...So a skeleton and a single parent walk into a bar," he takes another stop, continuing with, "One bares their skin to the bartender, earnest down to the bone," his breath hitches, yet he composes himself quickly, "the other sits back, looks into the past, and then wonders why he's feelin' so lonely."

He huffs and ends it all with a chuckle and an attempt at covering his face away from your sight. You stop him with the brush of a hand, taking his cheekbone when he turns to you. His body's shaking and a few tears escape his sockets, these he tries to wipe with his free hand, only for you to hold him back by doing that yourself. Caught in the moment, you kiss one of them away, the expectance of a salty taste proven wrong as you receive a hint of sweetness instead -- reflecting the memory of your day with him at the pâtisserie. His shoulders shake as he chokes back a sob, breaking down. His hands grab your back, bringing you in for a hug as he seeks more comfort. In that embrace, you can feel how his rib cage rises and falls at quick intervals, slowing down when you hug him back and wait until he breaks it apart.

The wait's as long as you expect it for someone in his state; the weight of his breaths diminish as he calms down and lets you go.

"Sorry about that," he comments, chuckling. "Wasn't really myself for a moment there, huh?"

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#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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3pirouette · 4 years ago

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Fic: An Experimental Design (5/?)

Title: An Experimental Design

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: Sequel to “What Number?”, also prompted from Steggy Bingo Bash Prompts. Takes place about a week after that fic.

A/N: So, despite my realization (with the help of a fabulous anon) that once Bucky falls off the train there’s only a day to maybe a week of time that passes before Steve takes down the Valkyrie, I’ve decided that in this fic it’s way more time, and that’s super important to the plot. Bucky went down months ago, at least 6. Please just go with it.

Also, this is now rated EXPLICIT. if you’re not into adult content, well… believe me, you’ll know when to stop. (But if you’re already here, I’m pretty sure you don’t care about adult content ;) )

Also, I REALLY need to know if some of your headcanons were right. Please tell me!!

Chapter 5: The Experiment

~*~

“We found about a third of a file from some other poor woman. Age, height, eye color don’t match Peg.” Howard chewed on his lip as he slid the file over to them. Steve, holding Peggy’s hand under the table, took the file and pushed it between them, flipping to the first page. “It’s an offshoot of something they’ve dubbed the Winter Soldier Project.” Steve eyes popped up in interest, but Howard just shook his head. “We haven’t found much else on that except the name and it involves a single male subject. At least for now.”

“Give us the short version,” Peggy said smartly, pulling her eyes away from the documents.

Howard sighed, wringing his hands together. “Well… it’s…” He started and stopped, looking anywhere but them.

Steve couldn’t hide the concern in his voice. “It’s that bad?”

Howard slumped back. “It’s not good.”

In her usual fashion, Peggy was still the most pragmatic in the room. “Then, out with it.”

“The uh, one page has a name on it: Project Anchor.” He sat tall again and pulled the file from them, looking for the right translated pages. “I don’t know how this works, so don’t ask. We’re missing massive amounts of data. And to be honest, I’m really only guessing at a lot of it.”

“Howard…” Steve prompted, forcing the man to look up at him.

He swallowed, finally looking his friends in the eyes. “It seems their Winter Soldier Project is akin to our Project Rebirth. Project Anchor was their way to… to keep their man under control.”

Peggy eyed him warily, “Keep the man under control? Then why experiment specifically on women?”

Howard rubbed his face, clearing his throat. He took a deep breath, gathered his courage, and looked Peggy in the eyes. “Because the woman was what was going to keep him under control. The anchor. They were trying to pair bond their subject to a woman. Create false love, or need, and then use her as collateral.”

Steve looked over at Peggy, taking her hand and squeezing tightly. “Give him a reason to stay in line.”

Howard nodded. “Exactly.” He scratched his head then laid three pages out before them, pointing. “This page refers to some kind of injection derived from their variant of the serum. Our linguistics guy says he thinks they’ve created some of these terms, because there aren’t clear translations. Best he can translate and I can tease out it works like some kind of bacteria or virus, bonding itself to cells through the subject’s body- specifically on the nervous system- which allows it to act as an irritant.” He shifted to the next page. “This talks about a two part process, but we haven’t been able to find anything about the second part, or even if they were able to get to it.” He pointed at the third page, eyes on Peggy. “This page describes the same kinds of pain you’re talking about, Peggy, but just the pain part. I don’t think they ever introduced their subject to their male counterpart, so she only ever felt pain.”

Despite Steve holding her hand, Howard could see Peggy’s anxiety ratchet up, her breathing get shallow as her heart rate started to go up with fear. “What happened to her, Howard?”

He stroked his mustache, trying to avoid saying, but he knew they’d read it for themselves. He gathered the papers and shuffled them together, slipping them back into the folder. “She died.” He coughed, folding his hands. “Supposedly they were going to do an autopsy, but we don’t have that page.”

“Well, what do you have?” Steve asked, his tone dark and eyes starting to narrow. “You’ve got to give us something to work with here, Howard!”

“You think I’m not trying to?” Howard shot back sharply. “If Erskine were still here we’d have a hope, a hope, of really understanding what’s going on. The cellular biology was all him. I’ve got a handle on it, but there is so much that I don’t know…”

“Well, you should!” Steve pounded his fist on the table. “We need more than this!”

“Steve!” Peggy, took her other hand, laying it on his shoulder, “he’s doing his best.”

Steve groused, eyes on Howard. “Well, it’s not good enough.”

“I’ve got that,” Howard said strongly, chin set as he pointed at Steve. Steve, still incensed, didn’t budge, but Peggy turned, interested. “You’re not like this, Steve. You’ve never raised your voice at anyone as long as I’ve known you unless they were Hydra and on the wrong side of your shield.” Howard shook his head and pulled out the paper from his pocket. “I haven’t shown anyone this.”

Peggy and Steve read the two and a half sentences; Peggy gripping Steve’s hand tighter. “Breeding?”

“They had to have more than that one woman and you, Peg. There had to be so much more research somewhere that got them to this point. I’m looking, and I can’t find it, but I know it. They’ve been developing and testing this for far too long for us to not notice.” He sighed. “Whatever’s in your body reacted to the serum in Steve. Maybe it was when you touched, or it had to be a body fluid transfer when you kissed or something to that effect. I don’t know yet, but it’s in you, too, Steve.” Howard looked sadly at his friend. “It apparently wasn’t enough to make the woman be in lust or love, to tug on this poor guy’s heartstrings ‘cause she was in jeopardy, they’re altering the male counterpart, too, to feel hyper aggressive and hyper protective.”

“Like animals in heat,” Peggy mused out loud, disturbed. Her chin wavered as she pieced it together. “They give their soldier a mate that he cares about, loves even, and then threatens her with pain and even death if he’s gone too long, all the while hyping up his system so…”

“So that he’ll do anything to guarantee her safety.” Steve hung his head, unable to look at Howard. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Howard said softly. “I think that’s the understatement of the year.”

Steve hung his head, running his free hand through his hair. “So, what do we do?”

Howard only frowned at them.

~*~

The small base dorm room meant for visiting ranking officials wasn’t the worst place she’d ever been, but the fact that she knew Steve was on the other side of the wall and they weren’t going to be allowed to see one another until she was writhing in pain was absolutely weighing on her mind.

She knew it was their only course of action. It didn’t mean she had to like it. She sat on the bed, thinking she should be happy that Howard at least had a lead as to what was going on, but it left her hollow. The what was bad enough, but the why was swirling in her brain.

They’d planned to introduce her to a man she didn’t know and bond her to him forever by rage and pain.

And potentially children they planned on weaponizing.

She wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that Steve had managed to touch her first.

~*~

It had only been an hour, but Steve was pacing like a caged tiger in the room next to Peggy’s.

He knew, deep down, Howard was right. He knew he hadn’t been behaving rationally when it came to Peggy since he’d brought her back. He should have made her go see Howard, shouldn’t have allowed her to hide for as long as she did.

But now, he could see it.

He could think back and realize there was more at work than just the love and care that had building withing him from the moment he met her. The drive, the desire to keep her safe reverberated in the back of his skull, fighting with the rational part of him. It felt like an animal was trying to claw its way out of himself.

He had to force himself to not pounce on the nurse who knocked on his door and came in with a smile, tasked with taking his vitals and drawing blood.

~*~

Four hours in, Howard stared at her as the nurse drew her blood. “It would be more helpful if we could take samples from you every hour, just like Steve, but you won’t recover as fast.”

Peggy nodded, looking away as the nurse filled the vials. “If I have to feel like a pincushion for a bit, just make it worth it.”

He nodded, pulling out a small notebook from his pocket. “Give me a rundown of your symptoms.”

“Fingertips and toes are starting to get numb, arms are achy, and my chest feels heavy.” She rubbed her arm as the nurse stepped back, watching as the woman pulled out a thermometer and blood pressure cuff.

“Zero to ten?” he asked without looking up.

“One.” She held her mouth open and let the nurse slide the thermometer in, taking around it. “Took much longer to start to come on this time. Usually, my fingers start to tingle as soon as I leave him.”

Howards eyebrows raised. “Interesting.”

~*~

Six hours and counting, and he didn’t want to eat. Didn’t feel hungry. Couldn’t concentrate. All he kept thinking about was that Peggy was on the other side of the wall and he couldn’t do a damn thing to help her.

Howard had stopped asking how he felt when he came in every hour, on the hour, mostly because he didn’t need to. Steve couldn’t stop himself from ranting at the man, a man who was his friend, for keeping them apart.

Even though he knew why they were doing it. Even though he understood exactly why it was so important they had real, tangible data about what was happening in his and Peggy’s bodies so Howard could find some way to fix or counteract it.

The only thing Steve found he was able to do was pace, keep moving, and try to burn off the anger and anxiety building up in him.

~*~

At eight hours in she was a four, little shocks of lightning through her body, everything hypersensitive, muscles starting to feel tight and painful, head swimming and aching. It was all she could do to sit up and talk to Howard when they came in to check on her. Though they didn’t draw blood every time, they still had her spit in a vile, checked her pulse and blood pressure, checked her temperature.

If Howard was finding anything, he was being tight lipped.

Peggy wasn’t sure if the anxiety of the experiment was ratcheting everything up, or of the knowledge that Steve was just on the other side of the wall made her feel more on edge.

She knew what happened to her at a 5, and at a 6, and once she hit a seven she wasn’t sure how long she could go without walking through that door.

~*~

Howard locked Steve’s door at hour nine, though he knew it wouldn’t stop him if he was determined. He locked Peggy’s door at hour eleven as her pain started creeping up exponentially faster. She could only tell him so much as her mind unfocused quickly as they talked, distracted by the agony she was feeling.

He could only run each test so fast, but the logs were filling up with data quickly. So quickly, he wasn’t going to have time to analyze it, but rather just keep running each test until he had all of it.

He had no idea what any of it meant yet.

~*~

Howard found her sitting on the floor, most of her clothes torn off until she was in just her slip, pressed against the wall.

“Peg?” he asked softly, shooing the nurse behind him back into the hallway.

“I’m right here,” he heard Steve’s voice through the wall, “I promise. I’m so close, Peg.”

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she sobbed, the tears falling fast. “It hurts everywhere.”

“What are you at? How bad?”

“Eight,” she muttered, letting her forehead fall against the wall. “It’s an eight, but I know what’s coming.”

Howard slipped back out, sure she’d known he was there, but unwilling to eavesdrop anymore.

~*~

“You have to let her get to a ten!” Howard shouted at Steve. He hated that the man could hear her moans from his room, hated that Steve was forced to let her wallow like this, experiment or not.

“I don’t have to anything!” Steve yelled, moving forward.

Howard stepped back. Even though he was reasonably certain Steve wouldn’t hurt him, he wasn’t used to this side of the man. Howard, for his part, still didn’t back down, it was one of his more pigheaded traits. “Well, if you want me to figure out what’s wrong with her, you do have to.”

They heard Peggy moan through the wall, a pitiful, guttural sound. Howard had just come from there. Her eight was creeping up to a nine in record time.

Steve moved forward again, but this time Howard pressed himself up against the door, arms splayed out to try to keep Steve from leaving. “Just remember this, Steve: you go in there right now, we have to do this again. If you touch her before she gets to a ten, we have to do this to her again. Don’t make me do that. You know I don’t want to.”

Steve looked at him, eyes dark and angry, and paced away, growling in frustration.

“Just…” Howard took a deep breath, “Just try to hold it together for her, ok?” He opened the door, stopping halfway out. “Do it for her.”

~*~

Peggy couldn’t take it anymore. She’d tried to hold back, tried to stay quiet, but she couldn’t breathe when she buried her head into the pillow to muffle the cries. The pain had crept up on her fast, growing in a way she hadn’t experienced before. She couldn’t help the moans, had the let something try to get out with the screams.

She couldn’t come up with ideas and theories, not when her head was pounding like her skull was too small and her whole body ached with muscle pain and her joints felt like they were full of broken glass and there were electrical shocks everywhere through her.

“Tell me this is it, Peg,” Howard pleaded, kneeling at her bedside. “Just say ten. All you gotta say is ten and I can let this be over…”

She moaned as the nurse drew a vile of blood. The nurse and Howard both jumped when they heard the first bang against the wall.

Steve.

“Peg, just say ten. Then I can let him in.” Another bang shook the painting off the wall, the glass shattering on the floor. “We’ll be out of here and you two do whatever you need to do to make this right, ok?” Another crash, this time accompanied by the sound of the plaster cracking. “Just say ten, please?”

She curled into a ball on the bed, not reacting to the way the plaster was starting to chip or how Steve’s rhythm quickened as she writhed.

“Jesus,” Howard stood, rubbing his hands over his mouth. “I’m calling it. It’s a ten. She can’t even talk.”

The nurse was about to ask him to help her take Peggy’s blood pressure when the wall across from them boomed, a large crack running down the middle.

He grabbed her arm, pulling swiftly. “Nope. Out. You don’t want to be here for this.”

~*~

He didn’t know what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop.

There was a part of him that said the door is right there but there was another part of him, a bigger part of him, that needed to get to Peggy and he knew that she was just on the other side of that wall.

He’d listened, powerless, as she cried out for hours, as she tried to bear the pain herself when he was so close.

He’d sat on the floor, talking to her through the plaster until she couldn’t string sentences together anymore. He stayed there, feeling just a little bit closer to her, even when he’d heard Howard and the nurse lift her back into the bed.

He’d stood, faced the wall, and there was only one choice: through. So he’d punched it. And again, and again. It felt good to punch it, like there was something he was doing, something he could do, to make this better.

But punching wasn’t enough. It chipped the plaster and made a small hole, but he wasn’t going to get through the wall just by punching. He stepped back, took a deep breath, and fell against it, shoulder first.

He didn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything, but smiled to himself when the plaster on his side started falling away, the wall bowed out. He pulled the chunks of plaster down, breathing heavy as he knew his mission was almost over. He was almost there. He took two steps back, and ran.

~*~

Steve crashed into Peggy’s room just as the door closed behind Howard. He skidded to a halt, plaster dust on him, broken glass and wall at his feet.

Peggy looked up from the bed, another cry falling from her lips as she curled in on herself.

He pulled at the collar of his t-shirt, ripping it off as he took two steps to the bed, falling to his knees and crawling up her body. Steve wasn’t thinking, only reacting, as he ripped the slip from her skin, baring her fully to him. He dropped down, pressing his bare upper body to hers, the touch of skin-to-skin pulsing through them like warm water rushing over them. Her arms clamped around him, holding him to her as his face rooted against her neck, licking and kissing the skin. “I’m here,” he mumbled against her neck. “I’m here.”

She could only concentrate on breathing, the press of him against her washing over her, soothing and igniting her at the same time. Pain slowly ratcheted down and started to move to needing and wanting as he kissed and licked along her collar bone, his hips rutting against hers as she tried to wrap her thighs around him.

She pulled him down, his weight pressing her into the mattress giving her just the tiniest bit more relief. Her breath caught when his lips found hers, his tongue already insistent and tasing her, despite her lazy, uncoordinated attempts to kiss him back. Her body didn’t feel like hers anymore, it felt heavy and weighted and like she was fighting to come back to life.

“What do you need?” he asked, dragging his lips to her ear to suck on her earlobe. “Tell me.” She didn’t know how to form words, couldn’t make her mouth do more than suck at the skin of his shoulder. She pulled him close, pushing her hands down over his back to his hips, clawing ineffectually at the waistband of his pants.

He knew what he wanted, knew what his body was screaming at him, what his body wanted him to take and how he wanted to do it, but he needed her to say it. Needed to know that despite everything that had happened to them, she wanted the same. He dragged his face back up, pulling away just inches to look at her.

Her eyes blinked open and her limbs tightened as he pulled away, the fear clear in her gaze that she thought he was trying to get away from her.

“Tell me,” he tried to whisper, tightening his embrace, but his voice was harsh and gruff.

Her chin wavered, the fear falling away as she tried to catch her breath. “You,” she finally breathed out. “All of you.”

His kiss was fierce, deep and demanding and she felt it set her heart beating harder. He pressed up on one elbow, pushing the other hand between them and fumbling with his belt and pants. She tried to help him, pushing with her feet as he pushed down with his one hand, his pants and boxers moving stiltedly down his legs at the same time.

His pants caught at his ankles, bunching around the boots he never took off. He moved to stand but Peggy held tight, moving more from muscle memory than from conscious thought as she flipped him over, body pressed tight to his.

She shook as she pressed up on her knees, hand reaching between them to wrap around his length, hot and hard in her palm. She watched him struggle to stay still under her, felt his hands flex and relax against her skin, the grip tightening only barely perceptibly. She moved slowly, eyes locked on his, as she lifted her hips and shifted him into position, bit her lip as she sank down on him and moaned.

She threw her head back when her hips met his, groaning at the tendrils of pleasure that finally, finally started moving through her, cooling spirals through every inch that neutralized the pain and sparked passion, true passion, that wasn’t dictated by a feeling or a sensation.

Peggy wanted to look, wanted to see Steve beneath her, but couldn’t seem to muster the energy to open her eyes, she couldn’t even quite make herself move as she wallowed in the sensation of the pain finally, finally leaving her body.

She could feel his hands at her hips, fingers tightening and loosening with each breath. She grabbed them, dragged them up her body until he was palming her breasts, gently squeezing under her own hands. She let her hands slide down his arms, landing at his shoulders by touch alone, her breath finally coming in slow, deep breaths instead of the shallow stilted gasps she could barely manage before from the pain.

Eyes still closed, she began to rock her hips against his, small movements that made him moan under her. Tiny, little changes in direction that made the pleasure spark through her system like fireworks. His fingers found her nipples, playing and teasing as her movements became bolder, as she started to find a rhythm. She took her hands and moved them back up to his, plastering his hands to her body moaning, “more,” under her breath a she moved her hands up and down his arms.

He moved his hand as she blinked open her eyes for the first time, looking down at him, lust glazing her eyes over. He pressed his palm up over her chest, around her neck and up to cradle her cheek. She turned her head into his hand, closing her eyes again as her hips gained speed, nuzzling into his hand and nipping at his thumb before sucking it deep in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. He moaned as her lips mimicked her hips movement.

“More,” she moaned again, this time frustration tinging her words.

Steve moved swiftly, gathering her in his arms rolling, despite the handicap of having both feet effectively tied together. Peggy moaned happily buried underneath him, nuzzling into his body and rubbing every inch against him, her hips rocking against his as she wound her legs around his hips. He could feel the feral haze starting to dissipate, the need and want purely his own. He hiked her legs up higher on his hips, slipping from her body. She frowned, moving to correct it when he held her still. “Just…wait.”

He waited until she’s stilled, then kicked one leg to the side ferociously, ripping his pants down the seam and freeing him from the restriction. He smiled won at her, wagging his eyebrows. She licked her lips, smiling up at him as he slid himself back home, flexing his hips deep within her.

She writhed under him as he began to move, clawing at his back to pull him closer. “Take me, Steve,” she whispered, holding on as his hips drove deeper into her. She moaned lewdly, the rumble in her chest from the noise spurring him on to press harder and faster as she buried her head is his neck, her hot breath pouring over him.

It could have been seconds, it could have been hours that they held one another, pressed tight as one body, moving and breathing and crying out together as he brought her higher and higher. As she moved one hand, finding that bundle of nerves that just couldn’t quite get touched at this angle. As he replaced her hand with his, causing her to arch off the bed with his touch. As she fell apart under him, her body tightening around him as she cried out, pushing him past his own edge of sanity until there was nothing left except them breathing heavy, a pile of spent, sweaty limbs.

He didn’t ask a number as he gathered her against him. He didn’t care about the shreds of fabric and heavy boots he still wore as he pulled the bedsheet over them.

He just wanted to sleep and to keep her safe, always.

#Steggy Fic #Steggy Bingo Bash #3P's Fic #This one got away from me #and it's very adult #featuring feral Steve

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theawkwardterrier · 5 years ago

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things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 42

AO3 link here

Who wakes first? Who can tell? Perhaps it is Steve, his hearing still acute, his muscle memory still practiced from responding to the slightest sound of a child’s step in the hall. Perhaps it is Peggy with her now early-rising body, her old agent’s urgency. Perhaps it does not matter. They turn toward each other in the empty house all the same. His fingertips brush against her beneath the blanket, in the dark. She rests in the warmth of him.

“First snow,” says one as the flakes fall heavy and quiet onto the roof.

“Do you remember?” says the other.

“Of course.” And then, although there’s no way to know how the serum works on an aging brain, no guarantee that the memory-related treatments that Tony and the Stark Industries bio-med team have been studying will indeed be effective or even workable: “All of it. Always.”

When Steve comes back from his turn on patrol to find Peggy—Agent Carter sitting at the doors of the old barn they’d taken shelter in for the night, his first thought is that she’s second-guessing the watch schedule he’d set up. Which he actually wouldn’t mind - he’s still new to this commander business, and he knows that any of the rest of them have more experience and she perhaps most of all - but he wishes she’d have talked to him before the middle of the night.

Then he notices that she’s curled up tightly, legs and arms tucked in: not exactly a state of battle readiness.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, approaching with care. It’s started snowing, but not enough to muffle anything.

“Dugan was terribly noisy getting up for his patrol. Woke me completely with all that grumbling and toe-stubbing and it was too bloody cold to get back to sleep. I’d have taken his turn, but he’d already gone.”

The moon is mostly hidden by the trees, but he can make out a hint of her smile. He’d been pretty sure he’d never see it directed at himself again, she’d been so mad at him the last time they’d been around each other. During the four days since she dropped in on their assignment, she’s been perfectly polite, professional, but held back from any more than that. She’s fallen in easily with the rest of the Commandos - every five minutes they’re asking her to settle some argument or a bet, or it’s “Peggy, tell us that one about Corporal Franks and the sheepdog again,” and even Bucky smiles at her although smiling doesn’t really seem to come all that naturally to him these days - but with him she’s all firmly tilted chin and observant eyes and “Captain Rogers.”

Until now, apparently.

He settles beside her in increments, not trying to fool or distract her but to give her a chance to tell him to get lost if she wants. She just watches him. Finally, forearms rested atop tented knees, he asks, "So what made you decide to come out here instead of staying where there's at least four walls and a roof?"

"It started snowing." She looks upward before facing him, flakes decorating her eyelashes and dampening her usually pristine hair. "And I know that this sort of weather is terrible news for so many, and it won't make our job any easier, but it reminds me of home and sometimes you must grasp those little pieces of magic and hold with both hands."

I know what you mean, he thinks, but what he says aloud is, "Why does the snow remind you of home? I would have thought it would be rain."

Actually sounding fairly amused, she says, "Dealing in anti-English stereotypes, I see. Though not even the most damning ones."

"Well, I've been to London. Seen it with my own eyes." He widens them a bit for effect and somehow their gazes catch, as if they're having a staring contest, before they look away.

"Yes, well, I didn't grow up in London. We lived farther out in the country. And when I was small, my brother would wake me up the first night it snowed each year and we'd go out - terribly underdressed, mind you, slippers and dressing gowns - and just watch it float down toward us. We would catch the flakes on our tongues and stay out until our faces were raw. Mum would tell us off if we didn't get back inside before she woke up, but then she'd just make us each hot chocolate and bundle us in front of the fire."

"That sounds—" Steve clears his throat. "That sounds beautiful."

"It truly was." She shuffles her feet a bit, and then, sounding wry, though he wonders if it might be to avoid the slight shaking in her voice, says, "I don't suppose a city boy like yourself had such similar experiences?"

He snorts. "Not hardly. Snowball wars in the street when there'd been a storm, sure. But if my mother had caught me sneaking down four flights in the middle of January or catching something from outside in my mouth, I certainly wouldn't have gotten hot chocolate."

"A shame for you, then." Her eyes gleam celestial in the near dark. Without meaning to, he takes in a gulp of frigid, pine-scented air.

"Seems to me," he says, "that I just have an opportunity to make another, better memory for the future." He pauses, glances down then back up at her. "Or—Well, this one's a pretty good one too. A first first snow memory."

The quiet between them is content, broken as it is by the sounds of birds and animals on their nightly business. A gust blows over them and Peggy shivers.

"Here," Steve says, automatically moving to unbutton his coat, but she shakes her head.

"Remember what Howard said."

The sound he makes in the back of his throat is half humorous, half rueful. She'd been there to hear Howard yell, "Don't forget to try to stay warm - not too warm, though! We're not totally sure what could happen to you extreme temps. Might be that your temperature and the way your brain processes it don't match up. Should probably test it when you get back," just before Steve left HQ.

"Well," he says, clearing his throat and continuing to undo his buttons, stretching his legs out in front of himself. The coat is heavier than any he's ever had and she has one much the same, but they're not particularly well insulated. "It's still cold as hell out here. We can share it."

The words hold awkwardly in the air as she looks over at him. A voice that might be Bucky's is telling him that he's not smooth enough to use words to make it better and he should just keep quiet and hope she lets it go. His own voice is low when he speaks again. "Just to keep warm, I swear. I would never—" His fingers fidget over the last button. "I know you have reason not to trust me. I should never have assumed anything or spoken to you like that, and I'm sorry for it."

"I know you are," she says with surprising immediacy. "Watching you over the past few days it's become clear to me that I wasn't as mistaken about your character as I had thought. And that perhaps I shouldn't have shot at you."

"It was," he says, feeling foolish, "some pretty good shooting," and she climbs over his left leg and tucks herself beneath his arm, inside the warmth of the wool with him.

"What a charming compliment." Her breath clouds softly against his neck. "I'll have to tell my mother."

"Maybe talk me up a little too." He isn't entirely sure what he's saying. "If I ever make it there for a first snow, I'd like some of that hot chocolate afterward."

She gives a hushed little laugh. "I'll make certain to. Although I wonder if I've elevated my childhood memories too highly. You might end up being disappointed."

There are, he estimates, likely only about another ten minutes before Dugan comes back around to this spot on the patrol route and they should probably be inside by then. He plans to savor each moment until he hears footsteps out here with Peggy beneath the first drifting snow.

"Believe me," he says. "If it's even close to this, I don't think there's any way I could be disappointed."

Steve's sitting at the drafting table they'd set up in one corner of the living room once it became clear that he was going to be drawing as more than a hobby. The pot of heavy stew he has on a low flame lends the aroma of tomato and garlic to the air.

He's working on two sample wedding announcements, one in a cartoon style for the bride, with she and her fiance sharing a milkshake with two straws (the sort of simplified image that he recognizes wryly will become emblematic of this era while allowing people to ignore the complexities) and one with more classically elegant florals for the bride's mother. He's been distracted and has to force himself to focus, so just the two designs have taken him all afternoon. It's only once he's finished the latter that he looks up and realizes simultaneously that it's dark, Peggy still isn't home, and that it's started snowing.

He reaches over the tabletop and lifts the edge of the dotted green curtain, peering at the falling flakes illuminated by the streetlight.

"The hell?" he mutters to himself. They'd had barely a dusting all winter, it had been in the seventies for half of January, and now it's snowing in March.

Apparently the stew was a good choice for tonight. Peggy will want something hot and filling when she gets here.

He reaches toward his pocket to check the time then shakes his head at himself and looks at his wristwatch instead. 7:56. It's not unheard of for her to arrive home this late but she had seemed to think it would be a fairly light workday. Changes of plan like this always makes him wonder if something's gone wrong, not with Peggy who can generally handle herself, but with one of the many balls they're trying to keep in the air: Korea is still a concern, of course, and Hydra has been bristling from the targeted test strikes they've made so far, and of course there's Bucky. They've been getting close to finding him, each source of Peggy's confirming Steve’s memorized information seeming like it will be the last link, each day feeling like it might be the one.

Forcing himself to stand, he stretches, circles aimlessly around the apartment a few times, then gathers himself enough to remember to tidy up. The snow is still coming down, big floating flakes that are actually starting to accumulate.

Once his supplies are put away, the counter wiped down, and the table set, he allows himself to call over to the SHIELD offices. If Peggy has something to tell him, she will when she can, and if not it might be an interruption to something important. But there are, he reminds himself, more normal explanations for a late arrival and if she's just catching up on paperwork he'll be happy to know that too.

He's very aware of how lucky he is that they get at least some degree of normal.

But the switchboard operator who picks up, recognizing his voice, tells him that Peggy left nearly an hour ago. He thanks her and hangs up, frowning. It usually takes half that time to get back.

He considers starting in on his next project or picking up a book in an attempt to distract himself, but before he can even make a decision, the power goes out, leaving him blinking in the near darkness, the flame from the stove the only light.

After he searches around by feel for the matches and then by match-light for a flashlight, he turns off the burner and heads down to make sure the neighbors are alright.

Mrs. Lester on the first floor sits sewing by the light of what seems to be a lantern set up on her table, and reminds him peaceably that she grew up in a country cabin without any electricity at all so this doesn't bother her in the least. The Trimble brothers on the second floor ask a whole lot of questions that he can't answer ("When do you think the power will come back on?" and "Do you think it will snow again tomorrow?") but seem fine. Esther Stoneham in the little top floor apartment even seems glad about the lights having gone out - it'll mean that her toddlers Caroline and Eddie might actually just go to bed instead of trying to play with everything in the place.

"I've lit one candle," she tells him, with exhausted eagerness. "And I'm telling them that's all there is so they had better be done picking up the toys before it goes out.”

He meets Peggy coming up the stairs as he's on his way back down.

"You're home," he says, just as she reaches the landing, her camel-colored trench dark and dripping a bit, and asks, "Do I smell a stew?"

They go inside together, door locked behind them.

“Another first snow together,” he says, catching and holding her chilled fingers in his.

Her eyes are soft on him. It always strikes him when they have these sorts of moments, when she’s with him to share these memories that had been held by only the two of them: their memories. “Still some magic to it, though I wouldn’t have said no to a bit better timing. I didn’t even wear a scarf today.”

He lights some candles around the place while she goes into the bedroom, joining her once he's finished.

"I would have adored a good bath," she says, standing before the bureau in her slip and sorting around in the dim light for her warmest pajamas. "But I suppose we can't have everything."

"I think I can promise a bath sometime in the near future." He walks into the bathroom and picks up a towel. Once she's finished changing, he starts to rub gently at her hair, drying it carefully of the cold moisture. When he's done, her cheeks have lost their outdoor redness and she's a bit frizzy.

There was a time, not long ago and all of forever away, when he never thought he'd see her like this, relaxed and unguarded, completely beautiful in the disheveled, comfortable way. He kisses her forehead, her temple, her cheek, her mouth, her mouth again for longer. She presses up into him, hands holding him closer, a dreamy, satisfied hum building in the back of her throat, until, approximately simultaneously, his hand hits one of the bottles lined up atop her dresser, knocking things around, and her stomach reminds them it's quite late and they still haven't eaten.

Steve ladles stew, luckily still warm enough, into bowls. Peggy slices bread and spreads hers liberally with butter. She's only five years on from army food and ration cards.

"How was your day?" he asks as they sit across from each other in the quiet, candlelit kitchen.

"I had an interminable meeting with a very sweet man from the BID who somehow kept expecting me to speak Dutch, which is unfortunately not among my many talents, and then I was informed by Howard that selecting Eugenia Cavendish to head our Australia division was being perceived as an insult to the men who’d interviewed for the position.”

“Howard said that?” Steve asks, already thinking about socking the man next time they see each other.

“No, he merely informed me of how it was being perceived, which I might already have guessed. And I informed him in return that I don’t particularly care, and I suspect Genie’s prepared herself as well.” She takes another bite. “And then I had an errand to take care of after work, and got caught up in the weather. I tried to wait it out, but finally decided to take a chance and I’m glad I did or I might have been waiting all night.”

“An errand?”

“Yes, I—” She looks just slightly flustered, as if she’d hoped he wouldn’t catch on that bit, then says decisively, “Oh, let me just get them.”

From her bag, she takes a bakery box, a bit damp, a bit crushed, but mostly intact, and sets it before him, nodding at him to untie the twine and open it up. When he does with careful fingers, he finds two cinnamon buns lying inside.

“You were talking yesterday about how your mother made them once, as a treat,” she says as he takes them in. “And I know that you’ve had quite a lot on your shoulders lately. So I called around and had some put aside.”

Their local bakery closes at 3 and usually sells out of the more popular treats long before then. There wouldn’t even be anyone to open the door without some convincing. Steve looks down at the pair of pastries, sweetly puffed up and perfectly iced, for long moments. How simple it is, to be thought of, an offhand comment remembered, to have someone go out of their way for him. To have Peggy, in the midst of all that she does, go out of her way for him.

“Thank you,” he says, meeting her eyes, the box still cradled in his hands.

“Here,” she says, standing with her bowl. “Come, my darling. Let’s finish eating in the sitting room. The windows are better there. We can sit and watch the snow. A bit of magic. I think we can both use it.”

Her gaze from across the table is so kind: Peggy sitting beside him as he’d cried in that bombed out pub, Peggy reminding them both of the things they have to be proud of, Peggy here and now, understanding him without words, promising so much more to come for the two of them together.

The bedroom door slams open without warning, and both Steve and Peggy shoot up in bed as all four of their kids tumble through the door.

“It’s snowing,” Emma says, fingers fluttering gleefully downward as she catapults toward the bed.

“Snow day!” Drea sings eagerly, bouncing into the blankets. “Snow day!”

And indeed, when Steve looks out the window into the near darkness, he finds several inches already on the ground and more still falling.

“I guess you’re right,” he says. “Any chance you all will go back to sleep for at least a couple more hours?” When they blink up at him (Rosie actually snorting out a laugh), he just shrugs. “Okay. Pancakes, I guess.”

The roads aren’t going to be cleared for several hours at least - everything around here shuts down for even a sprinkling. Peggy could likely place a few calls to give herself some sort of priority in order to get in for at least the later morning, but she doesn’t. Instead, for the first time in its history, Peggy phones her work and tells them to activate the phone tree and inform everyone at the Washington office that they can switch to essential staff members only for the day.

“That was nice of you,” Steve comments, giving her a smile, a brief kiss, and a cup of tea as she joins them all in the kitchen.

“They can always telephone in an emergency, though there hopefully won’t be any today.” She sips her tea, watching him standing there flipping pancakes on the griddle and adding bacon to a pan, looking at the children bundled in their robes, making wonderful, impossible plans for the day. “And it was a bit of a gift to me as well.”

The radio news, along with the official school closure, announces that the storm might have some staying power. By the time they’ve finished breakfast, it’s late enough that Steve says he’ll dig out his old snow boots and go see if the store’s open to pick up some essentials.

Even for him, the walk to town takes longer than usual, and it turns out that their early rising was lucky: people are flowing into the market and the shelves are starting to clear. Steve gets a bag full of staples, then asks Mr. Hillyard if he can leave them in the back office for a bit and borrow his phone to call Peggy. Looking around, he sees several elderly shoppers who likely need a hand getting things back home - the wind has a bite to it and they probably shouldn’t be out in that at all, much less carrying heavy bags down uncleared roads.

It’s several hours before he’s finished making deliveries and promising to come back tomorrow to help shovel walkways, before he finally starts home himself. On the way he is waved over by Wally Davenport, father of Rose’s friend Marcia, a portly man with his coat zipped to his chin who stands talking to Mrs. Gregory, the grade school principal.

“Cold enough for you?” he asks, fairly cheerfully Steve thinks for someone who has his hands stuffed so deep in his pockets that he’s bent nearly in half. Mrs. Gregory waves goodbye to the two of them, looking a bit relieved to be freed from conversation.

“I’m ready to be back home with Peggy and the kids,” Steve says, shifting the bag in his arm and trying not to sound pointed.

“Bet that brood of yours is happy to have the day off,” Wally replies obliviously. “I know that my two are—”

Later, it is hard to tell whether Steve’s hearing or his speed makes the difference. Likely it’s both: his sharp ears immediately detecting the moment that the branch of the old, spreading pine above them, unused to the weight of snow, cracks and collapses, his instinctive arm hauling Wally out of the way as the enormous bough crashes down before them.

“Lord almighty,” Wally says, swiping a hand across his forehead and staring wide-eyed as if he expects the sidewalk to have crumbled into pieces from the force of it. “You’re pretty fast there, Grant. Don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

If you hadn’t been here, Steve thinks to himself, walking through the overcast, snow-cushioned streets after he’s sent Wally back home to his wife and kids. Perhaps if he hadn’t been there, Marcia and Dougie would have found their memories of this day destroyed by the memory of their father’s death. Perhaps if he hadn’t been there, Wally would have already moved on toward home, heard about the fallen branch only later, whistled when he walked by and spotted it.

This life, the life he and Peggy have made themselves...He lives always within its normalcy, lives with the knowledge that he is in some ways entirely apart. Some days - when Nate asks if he thinks people will ever really walk on the moon, the afternoon Rose brought home that first Beatles record, saying her friends told her it was pretty good - he is struck by all that he knows, all the ways he is permanently outside of time. Some days, like when he’d turned on the news to see, suddenly before him, footage of John Glenn circling the earth for the first time, he feels entirely a part of it all, and sometimes, like when he’d seen Jerrie Cobb go up six months later, he finds pride in what he’s managed to do here. And often, he does not even think of it much, is simply a husband, a father, with errands to complete and homework to oversee, listening to his children’s chatter, Peggy’s laugh or her sharp sigh when they talk in bed at night.

The house, as he approaches it, looks unfamiliar for a moment, and then he blinks. There is Emma’s window, with the pretty curtains she’d selected. There is the scratch Nate left on the garage door when he was learning to make turns on his bike last summer. There, beneath the snow and frozen earth, sleep the bulbs he’d planted. There is the porch swing where he and Peggy sit to have a drink together when it’s warm out, the welcome mat where Rosie dropped a pitcher of Kool-Aid and left a stain, the front door that Drea will help him touch up in the spring.

He walks down the front hallway, feeling each step. In the doorway to the living room, he stops. The kids are still in their robes, scattered around with books and blankets, barely glancing at him. They’ve built a fire; it is still high in the grate.

Peggy is sitting with her own book, leaning on one arm of the sofa with her feet tucked beside her. She looks up at him, her hair a bit messy, eyes familiar, all of her beautiful.

“Oh good, you’re home,” she says. “We were waiting for you to get back before we went out into the yard together.”

He can picture it: snowmen and snow angels and forts and everyone laughing their way through a merciless snowball fight, burrowing back inside to wrap their hands around mugs of hot chocolate. Having this day, this wonderful day, and another tomorrow and for days and years to come, perhaps not the same, certain to be filled also with shock and worry and disappointment and heartache, but made of so many of these same small and loving moments.

“Yeah,” Steve says, complete with it all. “Yeah, I’m home.”

More chapters here

#Steggy #Steggy fic #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #things left behind fic #the Carter crew #and fade to black...#that's the fic folks

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aheartfullofjolllly · 4 years ago

Note

Hey!! I know this is a fandom blog ( and I love your content), not a med one but I was wondering if you could share how you remember all the stuff from past years ? Do you have any tips or use any apps etc ? I’m starting my second year soon…Also any other general tips esp about note keeping. I have been trying different ones to see which works… thank you! Feel free to ignore if you don’t wanna answer for whatever reason!

Hellooo and thank you! This is very much a personal blog as much as a fandom blog so questions like this is always welcome 💖

Admittedly, I’m not the best at memorising things long-term 🙈 Short-term memory for exams? No problem. Then it’s like, all the nitty gritty details I just studied vanish without a trace right after hahahaha. (1/2 joke omg)

This turned out to be quite long (sorry) so there’s a summary at the end hahaha. Also, just a disclaimer: my experience and programme may be different from yours but hopefully the general tips help you!

That thing that helps me the most is application of knowledge. So how we are trained is the first three years of med school is 90% theory with some patient encounters in our 2nd and 3rd year (but not a lot). Then 4th year is clerkship where we should be in hospital doing all the practical work (which I’m missing out on right now because of the pandemic 💔). But our curriculum is also grounded on a lot of case discussions so we are given patient scenarios and we have to go through the history, physical exam, differential diagnoses, ancillaries, and management of the patient every time. That helps me a lot because I would have patients in mind for certain diseases and it helps me integrate the theoretical knowledge. We do this a lot so repetition is another thing that makes information stick better.

Note taking! So, personally, I prefer the physical act of writing down notes because I tend to focus more and remember better. I use an iPad now for all my notes so I follow lectures or discussions while annotating powerpoint presentations or previous transes. It’s honestly the best investment I made for med school. But I didn’t always have an iPad and in my first two years, I printed out notes from older med students that were nice enough to share theirs hahaha. The note taking app I use is GOODNOTES (I’ve watched so many youtube videos comparing GN and notability and decided for this one in the end; no regrets).

Another thing I do is watch a lot of (youtube) videos! Because I am a visual learner, I would watch something on the topic first before I read my notes/books so it’s easier for me to imagine and integrate concepts. You may already know them but my favourites are:

Osmosis

Sketchy Med (my friend just gave me downloads of this so I don’t have a link sorry 😓)

Ninja Nerd

Medicosis Perfectionalis (single handedly helped me through hematology!!!)

Dirty Medicine

Armando Hasudungan

Registered Nurse RN

Other apps/websites I use for references are: Medscape (free), UpToDate (subscription), and Amboss (subscription)

I also do a lot of sample exams. So I try to answer and rationalise the old exams/quizzes of the previous batches because 1) I get to test myself with how much I learned from my revisions and 2) it helps me see how the questions are asked so I know where to focus when I go back on my notes. My friends and I would also quiz each other and bridge gaps in what we don’t know.

And finally, you are going on your second year congraaaats. 💫 Ngl, I struggled during my first year cos it was a loooooooot of theory. Slugged through it by pure memorisation. It helped that my pre-med exposed me to the medical field already but it was still tough. Second year was so much better for me cos that’s when I started feeling like I was actually studying medicine as opposed to like a very advanced science course hahaha. I think you’ll start to really appreciate it and remember better when you start talking about cases than just concepts???

SO BECAUSE THIS WAS SO LONG, LEMME GIVE YOU A SUMMARY HAHA

Try applying what you’ve learned to real life case scenarios if you can; you know someone who has hypertension or diabetes? Look at the medications they’re taking, what clinical manifestations they have, maybe look at their labs if they let you... it’ll be easier when you have people in mind vs just book knowledge

Repetition. It’s just a lot of reading and re-reading and re-reading until it becomes ingrained in your brain and you can recite it even when you’re half dead from sleep deprivation.

Don’t be afraid to make mistakes!!! Shoot your shot! Participate in recitations and discussions! Mistakes made in front of my professors and peers has been decidedly mortifying but quite a learning experience because I tend to remember the corrections more (alongside the embarrassment hahahaha). And it’s better to make mistakes in med school than in the hospital.

Take physical notes. It’s just better. Hahahaha. Doesn’t matter if it’s on paper or a tablet, as long as you’re writing things down yourself.

Watch videos to help you remember better!

Do practice exams to test yourself and see what you need to review on more; study with a friend if you can (even virtual) and try to quiz each other.

I think that’s it??? Congrats again and I wish you the best of luck. You can do it, dear Nonny. If you have any more questions or just want to rant about med school woes, my ask box is always open 💕💕💕

#Anonymous #medicine #nice asks

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hermannsthumb · 6 years ago

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I love your writing so much 💕 💗 ❤️ and you write so much I don’t know how you do it. You write newt and hermans characters perfectly. Could you write about Herman finding newt trying to test his drift theory, or perhaps finding the tape newt left after everything is over and they’re together. Love 😋

ohohohoho finding the tape is such a classic vintage newt/hermann fic trope that ive somehow never written before (also thank u for ur lovely kind words!!!)

Packing up the lab takes a lot less time than either Newt or Hermann expect; they’d spent five years of their lives in that lab, after all, five years of deep research (broken vials and useless equations scrawled on graph paper and slowly decaying specimens), five years of cohabitation (mugs and dirty sweatshirts and the odd decades-old family photograph), five years of accumulating random junk (posters and dusty books and weird little trinkets Newt found in the city and gifted to Hermann), and that’s to say nothing of the contents of their bunks just off of the lab. Newt thought it would take them weeks, months, even, but the whole process only takes a few days. He supposes it helps that a lot of it is PPDC property and, thus, highly confidential and nothing they can take with them, and the stuff that isn’t highly confidential is useless at this point anyway.

What isn’t repossessed in the dead of night by Higher-Ups (Newt never even got to bid his samples farewell) mostly goes in the trash--Newt’s stash of disposable gloves, his work apron, pencils he’d stolen from Hermann and chewed beyond recognition, orange peels and dried teabags that littered Hermann’s desk, tiny nubs of chalk that were physically impossible to write with but Hermann refused to let go of until now. What isn’t repossessed or thrown out goes in cardboard boxes marked with Geiszler + Gottlieb in thick black Sharpie (because Hermann not-too-subtly indicated he wouldn’t mind continuing this trend of co-habitation with Newt even beyond their working relationship, and by “wouldn’t mind” Newt means, of course, that he caught Hermann looking up vacant apartments within walking distance from universities in every major city they had even the smallest emotional connection to, and not even specifying more than one bedroom).

All that’s left to do is finish going through their desks, which is proving to be the most demanding task of all. They have a lot of crap.

“You should save that,” Newt remarks, as Hermann attempts to throw one of his old work journals into the industrial-sized trash bin they’ve moved near the lab’s entrance. Newt’s on his hands and knees doing his very busy to peel up the hazmat tape that divides the lab.

“It’s just old, useless coding,” Hermann says, waving the book. “And I really do mean useless. Random scribbling. Not even a rough draft of a draft.”

If Hermann’s willingly parting with some of his precious math, it really must be useless. Still: Newt sits back on his heels and raises his eyebrows. “Could be worth a lot of money, dude,” he says. “You could sell it to the Smithsonian.”

Hermann snorts. “It’s garbage, Newton.”

Newt holds his hands up and mimes the shape of an imaginary plaque that would, hypothetically, adorn the museum exhibit for him and Hermann that will definitely exist one day. “‘Authentic jaeger coding by Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, PhD, rockstar, nerd savior of the world.’” Hermann laughs again, and Newt shrugs with a grin.

“Mm,” Hermann says, and tosses the notebook in the bin. “I’m sure. What about these?” He holds up more dried orange peels. (Where the hell was Hermann keeping all those? Why didn’t he just throw them out right away?) “Are these also worthy of a museum?”

“‘Authentic sustenance for Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, PhD, rockstar--’”

The orange peels go in too.

“Fine,” Newt tsks, scraping up another bit of tape, “but when I make a profit off my old tissues don’t expect me to spend any of it on our rent.”

“Our rent,” Hermann echoes, and Newt goes hot in the face and scrapes even harder. He spares a glance up once the clacking of Hermann’s cane fades to the opposite side of the lab: Hermann is smiling. Something flutters in Newt’s chest.

He can do this, Newt tells himself, heart pounding, scraping at the hazmat tape. He and Hermann can do this together, like they do everything. They can live together. They can navigate a relationship together. A relationship relationship, something clear and defined and real and more than just the confused jumble of emotions they’ve existed in a state of for years and years. They have time. They have all the time they could ever want, and they have each other. Another few inches of filthy, faded tape come up, and Newt turns it over thoughtfully in his hands. How poetic, really, that it’s one of the last things to go before he and Hermann--

“Is this yours?” Hermann calls over.

He’s holding up a very familiar tape recorder, and the bubbling warmth and hope in Newt’s chest deflates quickly. It must’ve gotten mixed up with Hermann’s things after Newt drifted with the kaiju brain. “Uh,” Newt says, scrambling to his feet and stumbling over to Hermann, because Hermann cannot listen to that tape, “that’s mine, I just--take notes on it, let me--” He swipes for it, but Hermann--giving him a rather bewildered look--tucks it to his chest and presses play.

“Kaiju-Human Drift Experiment Take One,” the Newt of four days ago says, and Newt shrinks back.

Hermann does not look away from the tape recorder the entire time, not when Newt explains what he’s going to do, not at Hermann, if you’re listening to this, not even when Newt’s monologuing devolves into half-shouts and gasps and a loud thud that means he’s fallen against Hermann’s desk and to the ground. The tape runs out just as Hermann enters and cries out his name, cuts off with an audible click in the middle of a long stream of no, no, nos that twist the knife of guilt deeper and deeper into Newt’s stomach. (He knew Hermann was the one who found him, the one who yanked Newt back to reality and cradled him in his arms and brought him water and tucked his glasses carefully into his pocket, but he didn’t think--well--he didn’t realize how it must’ve been for Hermann to find him.)

When Hermann does look up, his smile has vanished entirely. “I see,” he says, icily. He thrusts the tape recorder back at Newt.

“Okay,” Newt says, “okay, listen, I know you’re probably thinking what an asshole I am right now--”

“Oh?” Hermann says, in mock-surprise.

“--but in my defense,” Newt continues, weakly, “I didn’t really think I was gonna die?” It’s the wrong thing to say. Hermann throws the tape recorder aside to the lab floor and pushes himself to his feet. “Hermann,” Newt says, “Hermann--” Newt grabs his arm, and Hermann shakes him off.

“You very nearly did die,” Hermann snaps, “and the very last thing you ever said would’ve--”

Newt grabs for him again. “I didn’t really mean--”

“Newton,” Hermann says, furious and commanding, and Newt flinches but doesn’t let go.

“I’m sorry,” Newt says quickly. Hermann scoffs, but Newt presses on. “I’m sorry, seriously, Hermann, I mean it. I was pissed at you for treating me like an idiot, and I thought--I don’t know. I wanted to piss you off too. I wanted to prove you wrong. It was...petty.”

“It was,” Hermann agrees. He doesn’t look like he’s going to storm out of the lab anymore, which is good, even if he’s still scowling. “It was petty, and it was cruel, Newton.”

It’s Newt’s turn to scowl. “And shooting down all my theories for six months like I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing and making me feel useless isn’t?”

Hermann does wrench his arm away this time. “I was worried your complete lack of self-preservation would get you killed, you imbecile, that’s the only reason I shot down your theories!” Newt snaps his mouth shut, but Hermann keeps shouting. “I wasn’t going to stand by and watch you--!” His voice breaks.

Newt’s kissed Hermann before (clumsy and drunk at Shatterdome parties, hard and furious during their not-infrequent no-strings-attached fucks on the floor of the lab or against Hermann’s chalkboard, sweet and gentle the night they closed the Breach and Hermann swept him into his arms and laughed and smiled), kissing Hermann is nothing new, not even when Hermann’s pissed at him, but they don’t hug, they don’t touch each other much, so Newt surprises them both when he flings himself at Hermann--who stiffens quickly--and wraps him into a hug. “I’m sorry,” Newt says, eyes prickling hot (Hermann saved him twice, Hermann found him seizing and bleeding and cradled him in his arms, Hermann drifted with him and for him, Hermann loves him and Newt was careless and cruel), “I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”

He hears Hermann sigh, feels him sag as the fight leaves him, then touch Newt’s back tentatively with his free hand. “Newton,” he murmurs. “Oh, darling--” Newt sniffles pathetically; Hermann slides his hand up to stroke gently at Newt’s hair instead. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confesses softly, and Newt clings to him tighter.

They throw the tape recorder out together.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #feeding MYSELF on some Nourishing hurt/comfort #Anonymous

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literarytrashcollection · 6 years ago

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Where Are Any of Us Going? (Part 4/?): Let Me Distract You

(Bucky x Reader) If you liked this, follow for more! Just starting, but planning on much more!

After Natasha and I finished our talk, she took me down to one of the entertainment rooms and we watched movies, sharing popcorn and gossiping over the hot actors and actresses. Wanda and Maria even came down and joined us for a while. Glasses of wine were had and by the time Steve and Bucky returned, I was a little more than tipsy.

JARVIS alerted us when the boys got back. Natasha immediately shoved me out, encouraging me to “go get my man.” I giggled as I went, getting lost on the way to the elevator. Halfway up, I realized I still had my mostly full wine glass and drank some more of it.

I found Bucky’s room right as he was coming out of it, still in full tactical gear. That wasn’t what made me freeze though.

He was covered in blood and grime, a deep slash slowly bleeding down his cheek. “Y/N, I figured you’d be asleep by now.”

I wobbled a little, bracing myself against the wall. “What happened?” I stepped closer to him and pushed his hair back from his cheek, trying to look at the cut. “Bucky, you’re hurt,” I whined, pinning my wine glass between my arm and my chest so I could use one hand to keep his hair back and the other to prod at the other bloody spots on his face.

He grabbed the wine glass from me. “This isn’t grape juice, is it?”

“In a way,” I mumbled, stumbling when he stepped back a bit. “Why are you hurt?”

He laughed. “Because I was just fighting people.”

I pouted and took my glass back, taking another little sip from it. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “How much have you had?”

“Well, me and Nat and Wanda and Maria watched like two movies, and I don’t think we ever ran out so… probably a decent amount.” I nodded, my head heavy. “We had fun.”

His lips turned up a little. “I’m glad you had fun, doll. I just need to go make my report and stop in at the med bay and then we can make some food, if you’re hungry.”

“Natasha told me to come get my man.” I informed him. His cheeks turned bright red and he bit his lip, glancing away from me for a minute.

“So you came here?” His eyes were the prettiest blue. I stepped closer again so I could look at them better and he reached out, catching me when I started to lean too far. I nodded when his question finally registered, my hands braced against his chest. “Why am I your man?”

“Because you’re trying to impress me and,” I hesitated, trying to remember all the other reasons Nat told me. “Because you’re broken like I am and we can help each other and I make you happy and you make me feel good.”

“You’re going to regret all that wine tomorrow, you know?”

I giggled and leaned my head against his chest. “Oh well, Tony said I had a chip in my brain. And he’s gonna give me new arms.”

He tightened his arms around me, resting his chin on top of my head. “He said you had a chip in your brain?” I didn’t care about the conversation anymore though, so I just shut my eyes, happy to be wrapped up in his arms. He smelled nice, under the filth and the blood and the gun powder. “Doll?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you gonna answer my question?”

I shook my head.

“Get a room,” Steve called from behind Bucky and I squirmed free, stepping around Bucky to flip Steve off with both hands. He just grinned as he ducked into his room, the door shutting quietly.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” I told Bucky, grabbing his hand and starting to pull him to my room.

“Baby, I gotta go get my arm set. Otherwise it’s gonna heal all wrong and tomorrow’s gonna suck.” He stopped me. My hand slipped off his and I stumbled, sitting down hard on the floor. Once I registered what happened, I couldn’t help but giggle.

Bucky sighed heavily. “Okay doll, here’s the deal. I want you to go drink a big glass of water and then I want you in your room, okay? I’ll come join you when I’m done.”

I nodded, staring up at him. He pulled me back up to my feet, confiscating my wine glass from me. I tripped over my feet and crashed into him a little, bracing myself against his chest again. “You’re pretty,” I giggled, studying his face.

“You are, now, go drink water.”

I stepped back, leaning against the wall, and gave him a mock salute. He took a deep breath and helped me to the elevator. He let me off on the kitchen floor and waved as he descended further to wherever he was going.

I found a water bottle in the cupboards and filled it with water, drinking the whole thing right there at the sink. I filled it up again and peered in the fridge for a moment before wandering back to my room.

I sat down on my bed and shut my eyes, trying to calm the spinning behind my eyelids before I got back up.

“Are you okay, hon?” Bucky’s voice startled me and I sloshed water on him by accident. He didn’t seem to care though, worry etched across his face.

“A little dizzy,” I smiled at him. He was still in his gear, but his flesh arm was wrapped in a brace. “You’re still a mess.”

“I was gonna go get cleaned up, but I figured I’d check on you first.” He murmured, stroking my hair lightly. I pressed my face into his hand, enjoying the warmth from his skin. My eyes closed again and I relaxed. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He took his hand with him and I whimpered at the loss of contact. When I opened my eyes again, he was already gone, the door latched behind him.

I pushed myself up and got changed into the shorts and hoodie I’d brought as pajamas, sitting against the headboard when I was done. I leaned my head back, closing my eyes again. I was coming down from the buzz and I was absolutely exhausted.

The bed dipped and I cracked an eye open long enough to confirm that it was Bucky before shutting it again. He sat close, his thigh resting against mine. “Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N?”

“Tired,” I mumbled. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against his side, his other arm going under my legs so he could rest them over his. I tucked my head against the crook of his neck, content to just stay there forever. “How was your mission?”

He was quiet for a long time, his metal fingers tracing up and down my spine. “It was good, overall. We did what we needed to and we made it out in one piece.”

I nodded, shifting until I was sitting between his legs, pushing him back against the headboard so I was more comfortable against his chest. “I missed you. You left me here with the Super Friends.”

“You had fun though.”

“Would’ve been better if you were here.” I sighed, peeling my eyes open long enough to study the soft sweater he was wearing before I started playing with the hem of it.

“I would rather be here too, doll.” He murmured, moving his hand up to my hair, metal fingertips massaging my scalp lightly. I moaned softly as he worked out the headache I hadn’t even realized was building in my skull.

We were both quiet for a long time, his hands slowing to a stop. I was cradled tightly against his body when his breathing slowed and steadied. I followed him to sleep moments later.

I sprinted out of bed the next morning, bursting into the bathroom and retching. As soon as there was nothing left in me, I brushed my teeth and took a shower. I needed to wash the sweat off of me.

I wrapped myself in a towel once I was done, padding into my room to grab clothes from my duffel bag on the floor

“Well, I didn’t realize we were moving this fast.” Bucky said groggily as I bent down to get my things. I stood up straight and looked into the mirror in front of me, his reflection joining me from behind. “Not that I mind, it was a nice view to wake up to.”

“Why are you in my room?”

“You were drunk. I must’ve fell asleep here.” He was still in his sweater and basketball shorts, sitting on top of my blankets. His face still had that “I just woke up” softness to it, his hair sticking out in crazy directions. “I’ll just go.” He got up and had almost made it to the door when I grabbed his metal arm, turning him back to me.

Before he could argue with me or make excuses or whatever he was opening his mouth to say, I stretched up on my tip toes and pecked him on the lips. Then I turned him and shoved him out the door, slamming it while I still had any shred of dignity.

That didn’t mean I didn’t hear the “Fuck,” on the other side of the door when everything finally caught up to him. I leaned against the door for a minute. “What the fuck am I doing?” I asked myself out loud, sliding down the door until I was sitting.

I dressed quickly, stepping out and looking around just in case Bucky was lurking nearby. When I didn’t see him, I made my way down to Mr. Stark’s lab.

Dr. Banner was the only person down there when I arrived. He waved me in and pulled out a bar stool for me to sit on while he ran tests with JARVIS. “I should have something to get your bones stabilized today. I want to run more tests on that chip in your head though, see what its purpose is.”

I nodded. “Is there anything I can help with?”

He smiled nervously, casting a glance my way for a moment before returning to his screens. “I don’t think so.”

I sat there and watched him work for a while. After a bit, I wandered over to my new arms, looking them over again.

“I need to take a scan of the back of your head, okay?” Dr. Banner called, walking over to me with what looked like a bar code reader. I tipped my head forward, pulling my hair out of the way as best as I could. I heard the whine of the technology in his scanner and then it was gone, the information uploaded to JARVIS, and then he was back to work. “You don’t have to stay in here, you know? Most of this I can do with just the scans and blood sample.”

“Are you kicking me out?” I laughed.

He flashed a small smile. “No, you can stay if you like, but I know this is boring.”

I left with the promise of coming back after lunch to see if he had anything for me. He just waved and focused back on the screen, trying to make sense of what was in front of him.

I explored the compound, stopping when I found Bucky and Steve sparing in a padded workout room. They both moved faster than I thought possible, most of their movements a blur as they tried time and again to hit each other.

I let myself in and leaned against the wall, watching them. Every time I thought one had the advantage over the other, they’d shift and the whole thing would dissolve into more hitting and ducking.

“Y/N,” Steve saluted me abruptly, Bucky stumbling as he ran into one of the walls. They were both out of breath, sweat dripping off them. I saluted back with a small smile. I vaguely remembered flipping him off the night before and I didn’t think I would ever forgive myself.

Steve glanced at his bare wrist, “Shit, sorry man. Gotta run.” He grinned at Bucky and started gathering his things.

“No, you don’t have to—” But Steve had already left, squeezing my shoulder lightly as he went. Bucky slumped a little, his eyes running over me for a moment before he looked down at the towel he’d been drying his face on.

“What, do we need a chaperone now?” I asked, trying to come across as lighthearted even though I was actually—maybe a little more than I was really ready to admit—afraid that I might’ve scared him off with the kiss.

He dropped the towel and picked up his water, taking a long drink. He was stalling. I did scare him!

“Listen, I’m sorry about… earlier. I just…” I trailed off, not sure what I was trying to say. He didn’t reply. He just stalked over to me, eyes dark and unreadable. He caught my jaw in his flesh hand and used that and his forearm to push me back against the wall, his mouth devouring mine.

I froze, my eyes still wide open as his lips moved against mine. Then I kicked myself and kissed him back, eyes fluttering shut. I held onto his hips, my fingers digging into his warm skin. His lips were soft, but rough against mine and he tasted like something I couldn’t put my finger on, but I wanted to live in it. His tongue traced my lower lip and my lips parted to let him in, but he pulled away instead.

My breathing was ragged and I felt like I couldn’t hear anything over the pounding sound of my blood in my ears. My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with warmth.

“Yes, we need a chaperone now.” Bucky panted, releasing me as he went back to his stuff, flopping down on the padded floor on his back. “Dear God, we need a chaperone now.”

He sat up when I sat down next to him, facing him. “I’m sorry if that was too much.”

I shook my head, playing with the frayed strings that spanned the hole in the knee of my jeans. “I wouldn’t say too much.”

“I should still apologize though?” He asked. I snorted and shook my head. “Thank God. I almost kissed you like that last night when I came home and you were all cute and worrying over me. Felt wrong to do it when you were drunk though.”

“I probably wouldn’t have minded.”

“You claimed me.”

I nodded. “I remember most of it.”

“I’m sorry, doll.”

I shook my head again. “Don’t be.”

He reached over and pressed our palms together, his fingers finally lacing through mine slowly. “I couldn’t stop myself from staying with you, though. Touching you, sleeping next to you, it was really nice. I haven’t had a lot of affection since… everything.”

“I liked it too.” I murmured.

We sat there quietly for a while before JARVIS sounded over the speaker, asking me to return to the lab. I stood up and held my hands down to Bucky, pulling him up. He cupped my cheeks and pulled me in for another kiss, this one soft and slow.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I shook my head. “Finish your…” I waved at the training room. “I’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

He nodded and peppered my lips with more kisses, finally letting me go when JARVIS insisted that I was needed urgently in the lab.

Mr. Stark was awake and working when I entered, Banner’s brows fixed in a perpetual frown as he tapped away on screens. “Y/N, we have good news and bad news.” Mr. Stark announced.

“I guess start with the good news.” I found my earlier vacated stool and sat down.

Banner picked up a gallon jug and handed it to me. “If you drink this entire thing, your bones should stabilize and we should be able to get you into surgery tomorrow.”

“I guess that makes me the bad news,” Stark sighed and pulled up my brain scan. “The chip on your brain is full of explosives. I’m afraid that we’ll detonate it if we try to remove it or take your arms off.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Brain go boom.”

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my chest. “It’ll kill me.”

He nodded. “And anyone trying to work on you. We’re trying to find a way to disarm it, but this is advanced, even for us.” He offered me a blueberry from a bowl on the work bench. I shook my head, staring at the two of them.

“There also appears to be some kind of receiver embedded in it too, to pick up signals.” Dr. Banner added. “So someone could detonate it remotely, maybe? Or to control you?”

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst right out of my ribs.

Don’t do that, or you’ll explode, I thought.

“Have you had any luck trying to figure out who did this to me?”

“We have the doctor’s name from your stay, but he’s clean. Same with all of the nurses and assistants and surgeons. Either someone was working under an alias or they snuck in without anyone knowing.”

I looked longingly over at my new arms. Mr. Stark seemed to know what I was thinking and came around, squeezing one of my hands. “I promise, we’re going to take care of this. This is getting more and more exciting and not in a good way. Who knows how many other people this has happened to? We’re going to stop it though. You’ll get your new arms.”

I nodded a little, looking down at my lap to try and hide the tears that slipped free. I quickly pushed them away and took a deep breath. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Drink your sludge. It’ll set your bones more solidly. That’s the first step to us getting you fixed.”

I picked up the gallon and stood up, my legs almost collapsing under me. My throat felt tight the entire way down the hall, past the other empty labs. I took the stairs up, walking the length of each hall as I went, trying to burn off the rage and the anguish. I paused in front of one of the training rooms, three heavy bags dangling from the ceiling just begging me to come beat my frustrations out.

I stepped in, setting my jug down by the door. I stripped my hoodie off, leaving just the camisole I’d worn and my jeans. I positioned myself in front of the first bag, staring at it as if a face could appear on it for me to hit. Finally, I just let loose, punching as hard as I could with my right hand and countering with a jab with my left.

The whirring in my arms was deafening and the longer I punched the bag, the louder it got until I finally hit it so hard with an upper cut that I actually broke it open, the filling spilling out onto the mat below me. I moved onto the second one, kicking and hitting it again until suddenly it was gone and the silhouette of a man was in front of me, my imagination finally giving me the release I needed, someone to hit.

I punched and punched until the bag grabbed my hands, binding them together.

“Y/N!” Bucky’s voice was loud and full of worry. My vision cleared as his warm fingers wiped at my eyes and I saw what I had done. His face was bloody and cut all over, his lip split in multiple places, bruises scattering his shoulders and chest. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Bucky,” I whimpered, trying to apologize for what I had done. I’d hurt him. I’d beaten him.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll heal. What’s got you so worked up?”

I felt tears well up again and I sniffled, telling him what Stark and Banner told me. His face fell when I told him about the explosives. By the time I was finished, I was sobbing, crumpled in his arms. He held me tight, stroking my hair and making soothing sounds until I cried myself out.

“You’re gonna be okay though, sweetheart. I know it’s scary, but they’re going to take care of you.” He murmured, pushing me back enough to look at me. He dried my face with a towel he found by the door and pushed my hair back. “It’s all going to be okay.”

I nodded, not daring to open my mouth, lest more sobs spill out.

“Let me take you out tonight, okay? Let me distract you.” I nodded again. I didn’t dare meet his eyes. Not only was I angry for all the experiments done on me without my permission, but I’d hurt Bucky. But he wouldn’t let me not look, he tilted my chin up and made me look him in the eye. “I will be completely healed before we even head out, okay? So, stop worrying.”

His left eye was swollen and purple, his nose smashed the wrong direction with blood dripping down over his split lips. I wanted to make it all go away. I wanted to go away. I didn’t deserve his worry or Stark and Banner’s help.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked, my voice hoarse. He shook his head, smoothing his hands over my hair. “No, I am,” I pushed myself onto my knees, taking the towel he’d used to dry my tears and dabbing at the blood on his face.

He pushed my hands away. “Then make it up to me tonight, okay? Come out, have fun, relax with me. That’ll make things right. Go tell Nat that I’m calling in the favor she owes me and she has to dress you appropriately.”

“Dress me appropriately?” I asked, momentarily distracted from his beaten face.

He smiled a little, blood staining his usually white teeth an unnerving red. “She’ll know what it means.”

TAGS LIST: (let me know if you’d like to be added!) @libbymouse @veganfangirl5 @hiddles-rose @sonic-lipstick-is-mine

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azure7539arts · 7 years ago

Note

For the writing thing: 38 and 00Q? :)

Thank you for your request! I hope you enjoy it, anon ♥

Send me more prompts from this list!

In a way, Bond supposed he sort of understood why Q was rejecting his advances, but at the same time, the more he thought about it, the more it confused him again. Mostly because he didn’t know if Q was strictly rejecting him, or if he was just… not taking Bond seriously. It was probably because of the mixed signals, his brain told him, because 007 and his quartermaster flirted every chance they got—either on an official mission, or off duty—but it would always be a ‘no’ whenever Bond asked Q out for dinner.

It was thanks to this that Bond carefully started upping his game a bit: trinkets, sweets, perfectly made tea that would sometimes appear at Q’s elbow when Bond was back on English soil (just no flowers, since, apparently, Q was allergic). All signs of a wooing underway, and honestly, no one could’ve missed that point, right?

No one, except for Q.

The agent suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He was down in Q-Branch right then, but in the R&D wing, ready to test out some new equipment.

It wasn’t that he was about to give up. Not at all. On the contrary, he was even more determined to figure this puzzle out, if nothing then for his own peace of mind. (Although a small voice in the back of his mind was rather reluctant about the idea of being fully rejected by Q, he supposed he was still enough of a gentleman to accept that sort of response and stay wisely away.)

Bond picked up one of the new prototypes, a small cylinder that had been designed to look like one of those cologne samples, and assessed the feather-light weight in his hand. Once they finished with the testings, this would be house for a potent tranquilizing gas, as per what a minion had told him. Right then, the prototype one was only filled with a harmless dose of vapor.

Somehow, it sort of irritated Bond that Q hadn’t even been the one who told him these things. Q, who had arbitrarily handed Bond over to R, who in turn assigned him to one of the R&D minions, had walked away to tend to another pressing problems without even so much as a backward glance.

With a press to the atomizer, Bond slid the bottle across the floor away from him in an imaginary situation that required him to quickly take down multiple opponents at once, and started counting down on the seconds before the device activated.

“Wait!”

A familiar voice suddenly rang from the overhead PA, and Bond turned toward the booth where the minions were supposedly recording numbers and statistics to find Q there, looking alarmed and slightly out of breath among the other startled techs.

Too late.

The gas inside the bottle decompressed with a sharp hiss in only 2 seconds since it was deployed, the force strong enough to push the slight container spinning in rapid circles on the concrete floor.

When the isolated ventilation systems started whirring to life to suck up all the emitted gas, Bond had enough sense to cover his nose and mouth, realizing that something must have gone wrong somewhere, and hurried toward the exit.

Q was there on the other side of the door when he opened it.

“Bond!” The air was cleared, and Q was able to pull him out. “Are you all right?”

“Of course,” Bond scoffed. “Just a little bit of gas wouldn’t—”

And everything went black.

The pounding in his head pulled a soft curse from him when he woke. His dimmed surrounding was both familiar and somewhat foreign at the same time, but as the antiseptic odor registered into his brain, Bond realized just exactly where he was.

“Wha—” he mumbled, trying to wake up with one hand on his forehead as if that would, somehow, physically stop his vision from spinning.

“You fainted… straight into my arms,” was the reply. Bond hadn’t noticed that Q was sitting there at the far corner to his left, having probably been working before Bond disrupted him just now. “You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” He sounded amused, and after a bit of squinting at the expression on his face, illuminated by the glow of the laptop screen next to him, Bond could determine that Q did seem rather pleased with himself.

Bond snorted, the sound more inelegant than he had wanted it to be, considering the sloshing contents inside his skull. “If you wanted to get me lying down, you needn’t have switched the harmless vapor with the real gas either,” he muttered, and at the visible discomfort that flashed across Q’s face, Bond counted that as a victory. The throbbing headache was making him vicious. “Did you drop me on my head or something?”

“Even if I had, I doubt anyone would notice the difference,” Q quipped, sharp and witty as ever. And no, that had been a mistake. We were planning on testing the potency of the compound later, but the labels must’ve gotten mixed up in the process. It won’t happen again.” Q appeared a little embarrassed by the mistake, and for good reasons, Bond thought, because his head was bitching up a storm. “Besides, if I had wanted you lying down, it wouldn’t have been difficult,” he added, almost like a disdainful afterthought.

“Really now,” Bond drawled. To be fair, he was just trying to get back at Q now, even if, in all honesty, the prospect itself didn’t bother him that much. Not at all. “Well, too bad that you didn’t get there in time to stop me from wasting away that entire shot of tranquilizing gas, then.”

There was a beat of silence. “I wasn’t worried about wasting that shot of gas, Bond,” Q said with such a quiet seriousness that caught Bond a little off guard.

It was then that Bond supposed he should make a mental note to ask Q later whether this compound of gas had any intended or unintended side-effects or not, because, of all the things that flashed to the forefront of his mind then, this was the thing that slipped out of his mouth:

“Have you had dinner?”

After a stunned second, Q chuckled and shook his head. “You incorrigible man. You really do refuse to give up, do you?”

“I’ve been told I’m tenacious,” Bond replied, watching Q carefully now in an attempt to try and decipher his expression. “Is that a yes or a no?”

Q seemed to sober up at this as he stood up and went over, stopping just at Bond’s bedside in this tiny room in Medical, eyes boring into Bond’s own behind those slightly too large glasses sitting atop his nose bridge. “I’m not one of your conquests, Bond.”

Bond shook his head, and while he winced and regretted the motion, his answer remained just the same: “Of course not. You’re not a mission or a target, Q.”

The air was thick around them, almost charged, and finally (finally), Q let out a soft breath. “All right. Thursday night at seven. I’ll choose the restaurant. Yes?” A small smile curled his lips.

“Yes.” Bond grinned.

#my writing #00Q #James Bond/Q #pining!Bond #fainting #Q and Bond being arses to one another #they are just idiots #Anonymous #writing prompts meme

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angeltriestoblog · 7 years ago

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Your Comprehensive Guide to Passing the College Entrance Tests

College entrance tests season is a time in my life that I look back on with equal parts pain and fondness, which somewhat serves as a justification as to why I’ve been putting off this post for so long. Although I spent many sleepless nights re-absorbing lessons I never even got in the first place—all while having to deal with agonizing self-doubt and anxiety—I guess it’s safe to say that it was all worth it. After all, ya girl passed three out of the four universities she applied for: I have yet to find out if UP is willing to take me under their wing, but whether or not they want me, I can say that I am very much contented with my results.

Since I feel I’m in a position to speak on a topic like this, I’m back at it again and ready to help anyone about to tackle the beasts that are the CETs this year. I’m dividing this post into three parts, which will contain tips on how to go about everything before, during and after taking what most consider to be the most important tests of your life.

Obligatory disclaimer: This is ridiculously long and not everything that I’ve written here will apply to you, but hey, if I were you, I’d start taking down notes.

BEFORE THE TEST

One thing most people fail to stress when giving advice on this topic is the importance of adopting the best mindset. Understand that the CETs are a very serious and urgent matter, for you are tasked with preparing for the succeeding chapters of your life all within a short time frame, but at the same time, don’t allow the pressure that comes with it to lead to overthinking and comparison that will ultimately distract you from achieving your goal: passing. Stay driven and positive, and focus on yourself.

Now, on to the actual studying part. I’d hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the best way to breeze through these exams without breaking a sweat is by being a good student all throughout high school. Be the type to maintain a stellar general weighted average, keep all notes taken down during the past four years in an expanding file folder instead of using them to wrap dried fish and join as many extracurricular activities as possible. If you’ve already failed at this, it’s time to proceed to Plan B: review school.

I personally didn’t enroll in any classes over the summer, because I thought they only took place during the month of April, which was when my parents had scheduled our overseas trip for the year. Well, apparently, I couldn’t have been any less well researched and by the time I found out, it was already far too late. So, I had made the decision to opt for self-study. For some reason, I was the only one in the household who was worried out of my mind: my parents were very much convinced that I would be able to handle reviewing on my own, and prove that review school was not a requirement for acceptance into prestigious universities. I was touched by their unwavering confidence in me, but every word felt like an additional kilogram I had to carry on my back.

I got by through borrowing old review modules from my dentist (Tita Meng, I have no idea how you’re ever going to read this, but thank you so much for saving my life… and also straightening my teeth) and downloading sample tests from the Internet for me to test my knowledge later on. My efforts never felt like they were enough for me though: I remember looking up the curriculum for each subject I needed to tackle on the website of the Department of Education, researching each sub-topic that was vague to me and Khan Academy-ing my way to proficiency. Definitely an unnecessarily extra way to tackle the reviewing process, but hey, my mind was very much laden with doubt and I was willing to do the most. I also put up cartolinas on my bedroom walls with formulas for different Math and Science subjects, which proved itself useful since I actually spend a decent amount of my time staring off into space.

If the thought of doing all of this alone is stressing you out, then maybe it’s time to go down what is considered by most to be the safe route: enrolling in a review school. Doing so will provide you with all the lessons covered during high school in the form of actual lectures with qualified teachers, and hardbound notes that often come with sample tests that resemble the real thing. It guides you through the application process as well as gives updates on the schedules of most universities, and helps in parts of the test that cannot be achieved by poring over textbooks such as essay writing and even techniques for plain old guessing. All these benefits seem to provide their students with the confidence boost to top everything off, and I admit that I did feel inferior to most of my peers at some point for this reason. They all just seemed so put together, so at ease with their binders and pastel highlighters that it made me go through a period of regret and resentment. Do not let the perceived advantage they have blind you, though: do note that even if attending a review school helps you ace the entrance test, it does not measure your aptitude nor your ability to handle the workload that you will have to face as you make your way in the university of your choice.

Because I had to do everything alone, I had firsthand experience when it comes to waging a war with time: it was truly my biggest enemy during this point in my life. It’s obviously crucial to create a schedule and follow it regularly. If you’re anything like me, you’ve read this in several self-help books or heard this over and over again on productivity podcasts but planning truly is key. First, list down all the topics that you want to cover, complete with the estimated time it’ll take you to master them. Then, distribute them per day evenly so you don’t end up overwhelming yourself and cramming so much information in your head that you barely get to retain anything. It’s important to have a contingency plan ready as well, in case you needed more time digesting a particular topic.

Eliminate all distractions while reviewing. This is a cardinal rule for studying in general, so it will definitely increase in importance during a time like this. One thing I found important is to tell yourself why you have to do it, so it’s easier for you to follow through. For example, I’m pretty addicted to watching YouTube videos, so having to cut down my marathons and look at the number of videos on my Watch Later pile up was a bit painful at first. But upon conditioning my mind into thinking that I’d rather spend my five month summer vacation before college binge watching all the videos I had missed out on instead of looking for a university that was still ready to accept me, it was much easier for me to cut down on it.

Remember to prioritize breadth over depth. Cover as many topics as you possibly can, going over the basic concepts and important formulas. Then, knock yourself out with practice tests so that you’re fully familiarized with them by the time CETs roll in, because you never know how even the simplest questions can be twisted around to baffle you. A common mistake most incoming seniors make (myself included) is overthinking what could possibly be asked and going too into detail when reviewing. In my defense, it seemed like the natural thing to do during a situation of panic but if I had only known, I would have been able to save so much of my time and devote it to mastering everything I had learned.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help if ever the need arises, whether it be from teachers, friends or upperclassmen. It might come off as a surprise to some of you, but there are many people who will be more than willing to help you, whether out of pity or genuine human decency. I asked tons of my classmates if I could borrow the notes they received from their review center, so I could learn more than I could have on my own (and maybe even compare their progress with mine). Sometimes, I’d disturb them at ungodly hours and call them up on Messenger to plead them to teach me the shortcuts in problem solving, mnemonics or acronyms. I was never the type of person to do that: honestly speaking, it felt like a direct blow to my pride to have to beg for something. But, it was my future at stake and upon remembering that, I no longer felt any shame [shrugs]

On another (but equally important) note: stay on top of your requirements for the different universities you’ll be applying to. Although they don’t normally start until July or August, it’s much better to get these out of the way as early as possible. Take it from me, who ran around Megamall looking for a photo studio a week before ACET apps needed to be passed. Stock up on ID pictures of different sizes, preferably 1x1, passport size and 2x2. Photocopy important documents like your birth certificate and grades forms, as well as your ID from the current or previous school year. Start thinking of who to ask recommendation letters from, brush up on your essay writing and interview skills and work on your CV if needed. Also, have a scanner ready if you plan on trying out for La Salle, since their application process is purely online. Be sure to keep track of your deadlines: don’t wait around for people to remind you, and please please please For The Love Of God do not cram everything until the very last second.

Strive to finish reviewing over summer break so you don’t have to worry about balancing CETs and academics, which is an entirely different playing field. I’ll come clean and say that I failed to do this, because there were still so many topics I couldn’t understand and questions I couldn’t find the answers to, even with the guidance of the Internet. Let me tell you, it was absolute hell as I didn’t have the time or brain capacity to digest lessons both for school and entrance tests. Please have mercy on yourself and focus on the classes you are to take during the school year, flipping through notes and flash cards sparingly when you have free time.

Now for the part that will probably be most useful to you all: the actual subject matter to study, focused specifically on the entrance tests for the Big 4 universities. Don’t use this as the sole basis of your review, since it’s not a guarantee that the topics covered this year will be the same as the succeeding ones. I remember looking up this one CET tips thread which said that the ACET was going to have mostly geometry-related questions. Since Ateneo is my dream school, I spent a ridiculous amount of time cramming everything from theorems to tangents in my head. So, you could just imagine my surprise when I actually took my test and was greeted by a maximum of four geom questions and a predominantly Algebra II and Trigonometry-centered Math portion.

ACET

Language proficiency

This test will assess your knowledge on basic grammar: correct usage of verb tenses, S-V agreement, analogy-type and a cloze test, where you are required to fill in the blanks with the appropriate word for the sentence. It also included an essay question about a particular word that differed from session to session. I had to make one on the word “superstition”, so I had written something on how I didn’t believe in them because I was raised by my family with a very strong faith in God. One tip people give out a lot is to try and relate your answer to either love for God or being a man for others, but do it only if it doesn’t come out forced. From what I remember, we were given 50 minutes to answer all of this, and I don’t mean to come off as boastful but English is and has always been my first language, so it didn’t serve as a problem on my part.

Mathematical ability

This test is feared most by previous test takers, and it was only when I crawled my way through it that I realized why it has that reputation. It’s composed primarily of basic algebra, algebra II and trigonometry questions, all of which are quite lengthy and require a decent amount of time to think through, especially if you’re not really the best in this subject.

Abstract reasoning

This test… Boy, what do I even say? It requires you to pick out the figure or shape that completes the pattern. There were 30 items all in all that needed to be accomplished within 10 minutes, and I couldn’t tell anything apart from each other. I feel anyone who tells you they took this test seriously and finished it without breaking a sweat is just messing with you. I don’t think there’s any way to answer this test without turning to our old friend (the shotgun method).

Logical reasoning

This test includes questions with a set of premises that you are supposed to analyze, and a list of choices containing possible conclusions that can be drawn from them. Your task is to pick the most logical one, which sounds like common sense at first. Apparently, this was a topic discussed in General Math, so there is a certain set of rules to follow. Not only did I not remember ever taking this up in my life, but I also skipped it during review so I had to borrow my classmate’s book and cram everything I could during ACET week (DEFINITELY NOT ADVISABLE). There was one part of the test that involved a lot of technical terms, which I did not read about or study but thank God ya girl was desperate enough and ended up finding hints in the instructions!

Vocabulary

Pretty self-explanatory type of test, with 25 words in five minutes. It seems overwhelming, but contrary to popular belief, it’ll be easy even for those who aren’t voracious readers.

Reading comprehension

This test will require you to fully understand the message of the text, and apply it practically or draw sensible conclusions from it. I breezed through this one as well, because I’ve been reading since I was in the womb, but this can prove to be difficult for those who aren’t used to it. I’ve been seeing this tip circulating that goes “Look at the questions first before the passage itself, so you know what to find” and although it can fool just about any lazy reader out there, I tried it for myself during the ACET because I was in the mood and it didn’t help me at all. If anything, it just slowed me down because I was doing twice the work: looking at the question then going over the whole thing to find the answer, then repeating the process instead of just reading the text once.

Numerical ability

This test was all word problems—age, work, mixture, speed—with a dash of ratio, proportion and variation. This was the last portion of the ACET, and not only was my brain fried to a crisp but I was also very eager to leave so this definitely made me want to scream as I was taking it. It could have been much easier if I had memorized the exact formulas, and practiced lots so I could work rapidly without sacrificing accuracy.

DCAT

Mema test

I don’t know the actual name of this test, but I called it as such because it was so all over the place it felt like the ones in charge of making the DCAT looked at the final draft, saw they were an entire subtest short and crammed these questions two hours before the deadline. It was a mix of both abstract reasoning and vocabulary, and was generally easy: the AR patterns were understandable and didn’t require a lot of analysis, while the vocab words were very few and quite common.

Math I

I read in this one CET tips post that this portion was, and I quote, “pretentiously difficult and time-consuming” and it’s absolutely true! It’s big on derivations of formulas and advanced concepts in algebra, it barely had any basics much to my dismay. My mental block during this part was at its peak: I didn’t know how to solve anything, so I simply substituted each of the missing values in the problem with a number and worked it around until both sides of the equation were equal. That obviously took a lot of effort, which stemmed from my refusal to let go of an item until I feel like I’ve tried my best in solving it. But, it doesn’t have to be the case for you, especially if you’re terribly pressed for time: don’t hesitate to skip if you can’t move forward!

Math II + logical reasoning

Undoubtedly the hardest part of the exam, because no one saw it coming and thus, no one was able to prepare for it. And to think I was already warned by my friends who took the DCAT the week before I did to review statistics: I went through my notes from Grade 9 on combination and permutation, completely unaware that it was going to focus on hypothesis testing and estimation of parameters, which we failed to cover in Grade 11. I thought I’d be able to get by, I remember even praying that there would be only a few items but the entire test revolved around it so I almost literally crawled my way through. As for logic, it was alright until they started using technical terms like I had no idea what modus ponus (hocus pocus?) is and I don’t think I’ve ever had to study that in my life, so I think it’s safe to say I didn’t perform well there.

Reading comprehension

This was pretty similar to the ACET, so the same description and tips apply. Nothing to worry about.

EAPP/Research

This test was the plot twist of the year: DLSU completely took out the traditional type of English subtest (identifying errors, vocabulary, cloze test, etc.) and replaced it with citing in APA format, the principles of academic writing and the parts of a research paper. I had no idea that this was going to be included, and thankfully, those who enrolled in review centers didn’t either so we were all pretty much on equal footing. But, I walked out of it without a scratch: I guess it’ll be easy for you if you contribute to the making of your research papers, but if you’re a freeloader, ayan diba sinabi ko sa inyo may araw rin kayong lahat O ETO NA YUN

Science

This test covers the four major areas: earth science, biology, chemistry and physics. It was so much easier than I expected, because it only centered on terms and definitions of important concepts. I was most worried about the physics portion, since I’ve always considered it to be my waterloo, so you could just imagine my relief when I saw that it was very formulas-based and could be aced by anyone who took it up in Grade 10. (Super long run-on sentence, I’m sorry) I definitely wouldn’t have been able to survive it without the help of Tyler DeWitt, the best Chemistry teacher anyone could ever ask for – I found him on YouTube during a moment of desperation and binge-watched all his videos the day before DCAT, and he is probably the sole reason behind my success.

Life skills

The easiest and best part of the DCAT, because it’s simply a test of your character. It provides you with a set of situations, and all you have to choose which one best applies to you—so, yes there are no wrong answers. It’s easy to think that the most logical way to answer would be to feign sainthood and pick which one makes you look like an Ideal Lasallian/Catholic/Person, but I advise you to stay as true to yourself as possible. Those in admissions have probably seen many people apply this strategy in the past, and will most likely appreciate your honesty and view it as a way of seeing a true glimpse of your character.

UPCAT

Language proficiency

I think I was only sure of about 75% of my answers in this test, and to think this was the easiest part of the UPCAT for me as language is supposed to be my forte. Although it revolved around the basics—identifying errors in sentences, cloze set, rearrangement of sentences to form a paragraph and vocabulary—it came in both English and Filipino, which really tired me out early on.

Science

Hardest test of them all, to the point that taking it felt like my brain was getting hit by different trucks all at once. It covered all four major areas, including earth science. There were a ton of tables, graphs and diagrams that needed to be interpreted, and experiments to be analyzed: it’s big on practical applications and understanding of concepts. Don’t memorize any formulas, acronyms and mnemonics as you definitely will not need it at all.

Math

This test ran through a little bit of everything: from basic algebra to geometry, trigonometry, word problems and even statistics, sequences and number theory. It’s important to memorize all the formulas and learn how to solve problems fast even if they’ve already been twisted around. Math has never been my strong suit, so at this point, I was very close to hyperventilating. I even remember shading the wrong circles for ten questions in a row because I skipped one item. I also took around three bathroom breaks at this point, and spent 30 seconds sat on the toilet praying.

Reading comprehension

This was the first time I ever loathed this kind of test, when it’s supposed to be my strong point. It’s just that the previous subtests were so mentally and emotionally draining, that I didn’t have the brainpower to tackle it. It didn’t help at all that the passages chosen for the UPCAT were not the usual narrative types that are actually entertaining to read, but were incredibly information and detail-heavy. (They made really good memes on Twitter, though: no one was over the patis, newsboy or Super Ferry 9 for a long while.) The best thing to do at this point would be to go for the easiest and shortest ones first, to give your brain time to repair and prepare itself.

USTET

Mental ability

This test seeks to assess your common sense through a mix of logical reasoning, analogical and basic language and arithmetic problems. I don’t think I have to give you tips about this part at all, because it’s that easy.

Science

This test also includes question on all four major areas, but the main difference is that there are close to no practical applications of concepts – surprisingly, UST only cares about the definition of terms. Thus, intensive review probably won’t be needed: you could just skim through your notes from junior high school and have a good grasp of what’s going to be included.

Math

This test had mostly basic algebra and geometry, as well as some word problems – nothing too difficult. One other fun thing was that there was so many of the same type of question, so if you have the formulas memorized and a certain technique in answering, you could get so many (if not all) correctly.

English

This test focused mainly on basic grammar, figures of speech and subject-verb agreement. There was also a tiny part about oral communication and research, which I wasn’t able to prepare for but it’s a good thing I actually bothered paying attention to my teacher in Grade 11 or else I wouldn’t have been able to answer a thing.

THE DAY BEFORE – DURING THE TEST

Now, normally people would tell you to rest the day before any big test: drop all books and notes and mentally psych yourself for the battle up ahead in the form of face masks and comfort food. Although it sounded incredibly tempting, I obviously didn’t follow it because I was running short on time and had so many things I had yet to fully understand. Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t experience any adverse effects and even retained everything I had crammed into my head. So, you’re technically still allowed to review: run through flash cards and try a bit more practice problems if you wish. The only thing you have to make sure of is that you do not stay up late: sleep is crucial for memory retention and BASTA PARA DI KA LUTANG, and you do not want to realize that you’ve taken it for granted on such an important date.

Pack all your essentials the night before in (preferably) a small backpack that you can easily lug around. Bring two #2 Mongol pencils, an eraser, your test permit, a school ID just in case and food to snack on: my personal favorites of the season were seaweed crisps that I got for a buy one, take one deal in Robinsons Supermarket, raisins and trail mix. Scientific studies in the past have claimed that chewing motions can help stimulate your brain, but I just believe it just doesn’t feel right to engage in battle on an empty stomach. Coordinate with friends who’ll be in the same testing center as you, in case you won’t be able to survive in such an environment without someone to sympathize with you. Personally, I didn’t bother meeting up with friends for three out of my four tests because I wanted to feel independent and possibly run into new people.

If you’re anything like me and you hold on to God for dear life in almost every situation that brings you difficulty, don’t forget to pray for enlightenment and the capacity to accept His will, whatever it may be. As much as possible, try to hear Mass the day before your entrance test. Funny story, I was supposed to do this on ACET Eve, but we got stuck in traffic and missed the opportunity to. I ended up running to my parish while the staff were closing it (I didn’t even know that was a thing – what about the troubled souls who need guidance in the wee hours of the morning!) and muttering the most desperate prayer under my breath in a minute. I even lit a candle outside because I wanted to pass Ateneo that badly. Looking back, I found that it helped me lots because I was able to lift up all my worries to Him so I wouldn’t have to bring them along with me the next day.

On the test day itself, the best weapon to have in your arsenal is a good mindset. Walk into the testing center like you already passed, stroll along the corridors like it’s your first day in that university and look at every question as another step closer to freedom. Do not overthink or panic: I know it is much easier said than done, but it won’t hurt to fake it till you make it (sometimes, in situations like this, it’s the best option available).

Keep track of time limits: don’t be afraid to glance at the wall clock or your wristwatch from time to time so you can pace yourself properly. Don’t take too long on one item: if you don’t know what to do with it in 20 seconds, just come back to it when you have extra minutes to spare. If you’re not sure about the answer to an item, make the most intelligent guess you can by racking your brain for the very limited stock knowledge you have on that topic. Choose one letter to be your go-to choice if you really don’t know the answer: mine was C (for Christ, truly) although I don’t know if that’s still a wise decision because universities might start picking up on this strategy.

Look back on all your answers: if you have the luxury of time, re-read everything from the instructions to the passages to the choices provided, because sometimes, even if you were 110% sure of what you were answering during that moment, you may have missed something important. If you happen to be one of those beasts who come prepared enough and you’re completely sure of everything already, catch a quick nap to recharge those batteries instead of scouting for attractive fellow test-takers. I swear, there will be many more of them in college: at present, it’s best to exhaust all efforts into actually getting a university.

AFTER THE TEST

The minute the proctor makes you put your pencil down one last time and submit the questionnaire forward, let it go. Completely forget that it happened: don’t spend the succeeding days discussing answers with peers, as it will almost always end with you regretting things you can no longer change. Do not keep a countdown until judgment day ticking in your head either: choose to take this time to let your life return to its normal state. Shift your focus back to your academics for the school year, and be preoccupied with your interests once again during your free time. Remember to treat yourself as well, because we all know it’s not easy to study while simultaneously worrying about your future. After all my CETs, I made sure to eat out with my family and spoil myself with chick flick marathons and skin care products. Most importantly, be sure to keep praying as it is the key to accepting what happens in the future and regaining peace of mind. As cheesy as it sounds, trust in God’s plan for You and know that He has a reason for everything that is about to happen.

Now, on to the final stretch: the release of results. (This is a pretty timely thing to be talking about right now, since as of this writing, I’m waiting for UP to make a move within the week) If you pass your dream school—or any university for that matter—congratulations! Your hard work has finally paid off, and the promising future you’ve built up in your head is slowly turning into a reality. Don’t forget to thank all those who made this possible for you: God, your family, friends and teachers who believed in you through every sleepless night and mid-morning breakdown. Remain humble though, and be careful not to gloat in front of those who didn’t pass. I know you’re not really obliged to act a certain way to please them, especially during a time as joyous as this, but it’s all a matter of empathy: I’m sure you’d feel the same way if the roles were reversed. One thing you’re left to decide with if you’re lucky enough to pass more than one college is where you’re headed off to. Personally, it’s course over school: go for the program that suits you best and will help you pursue the career path you wish, since that will do you more good in the future than the reputation of any institution. If you are not entirely convinced by that spiel, do not hesitate to ask help from those you trust most: preferably family members, teachers and counselors. I left out friends, because I don’t think it’s a wise decision to choose a specific school just because that’s where they’re headed.

If you fail to make the cut, however, indulge in your right to cry right now. I’m sure that it must be disheartening, planning out a future in a school that ended up “rejecting” you in the end, but news flash: the race does not finish here! Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and get ready for the results of the other schools you have applied for. Be sure to surround yourself with only people who are capable of uplifting your spirits and helping you believe in yourself during such a trying time. If the worst case scenario happens and you are left with no college at the end of the day, it’s time to get hustling: look for universities that are still accepting applications (some schools out there have entrance tests every month, and results come out instantly), or send in letters of appeal if ever you truly have your eyes set on a specific campus. That’s not something I have much expertise on though, but almost everything you will need to know is on the school’s official website.

And, there you have it! Everything I could tell you about the college entrance tests! I spent approximately three days trying to kick my writing slump in the ass: my eyes hurt and I may be suffering from carpal tunnel but all of that means nothing as long as I’ve been able to guide one hopeless soul out of the dark. (Yes, I patterned that after my comprehensive guide to surviving Grade 11 – my brain is dying, and I have no time to think of an ending catchier than that.) I’m on summer break now and I’ll be going to Korea next week, so expect a lot of lighter and more amusing content!

Stay in school, kids!

Angel

#angeltriestoblog #cets #college entrance tests #philippines #upcat #acet #dcat #ustet #cet tips #life dump #recs

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hptposts · 5 years ago

Text

Pragmatic programmer - Andrew Hunt

This is my summary of the The Pragmatic Programmer, by Andrew Hunt and David Thomas. I use it while learning and as quick reference. It is not intended to be an standalone substitution of the book so if you really want to learn the concepts here presented, buy and read the book and use this repository as a reference and guide.

If you are the publisher and think this repository should not be public, just write me an email at hugomatilla [at] gmail [dot] com and I will make it private.

Contributions: Issues, comments and pull requests are super welcome There is a Quick Reference at the end.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1. A Pragmatic Philosophy

Chapter 2. A Pragmatic Approach

Chapter 3. The Basic Tools

Chapter 4. A Pragmatic Paranoia

Chapter 5. Bend or Break

Chapter 6. While you are coding

Chapter 7. Before the project

Chapter 8. Pragmatic Projects

Quick Reference

1.-The Cat Ate My Source Code

2.-Software Entropy

3.-Stone Soup and Boiled Frogs

4.-Good enough soup

5.-Your Knowledge Portfolio

6.-Communicate

7.-The Evils of Duplication

8.-Orthogonality

9.-Reversibility

10-Tracer Bullets

11.-Prototypes and Post-it Notes

12.-Domain Languages

13.-Estimating

14.-The Power of Plain Text

15.-Shell Games

16.-Power Editing

17.-Source Code Control

18.-Debugging

19.-Text Manipulation

20.-Code Generators

21.-Design by Contract

22.-Dead Programs Tell No Lies

23.-Assertive Programming

24.-When to Use Exceptions

25.-How to Balance Resources

26.-Decoupling and the Law of Demeter

27.-Metaprogramming

28.- Temporal Coupling

29.-It's Just a View

30.-Blackboards

31.-Program by Coincidence

32.-Algorithm Speed

33.-Refactoring

34.-Code That's Easy to Test

35.-Evil Wizards

36.-The Requirements Pit

37.-Solving Impossible Puzzles

38.-Not Until You're Ready

39.-The Specification Trap

40.-Circles and Arrows

41.-Pragmatic Teams

42.-Ubiquitous Automation

43.-Ruthless testing

44.-It's All Writing

45.- Great Expectations

Tips

CheckList

Languages To Learn

The WISDOM Acrostic

How to Maintain Orthogonality

Things to prototype

Architectural Questions

Debugging Checklist

Law of Demeter for Functions

How to Program Deliberately

When to Refactor

Cutting the Gordian Knot

Aspects of Testing

Chapter 1. A Pragmatic Philosophy

Tip 1: Care About Your Craft

Why spend your life developing software unless you care about doing it well?

Tip 2: Think! About Your Work

Turn off the autopilot and take control. Constantly critique and appraise your work.

1.-The Cat Ate My Source Code

Tip 3: Provide Options, Don't Make Lame Excuses

Instead of excuses, provide options. Don't say it can't be done; explain what can be done to salvage the situation.

2.-Software Entropy

One broken window, left unrepaired for any substantial length of time, instills in the inhabitants of the building a sense of abandonment—a sense that the powers that be don't care about the building. So another window gets broken. People start littering. Graffiti appears. Serious structural damage begins. In a relatively short space of time, the building becomes damaged beyond the owner's desire to fix it, and the sense of abandonment becomes reality.

Tip 4: Don't Live with Broken Windows

Don't mess up the carpet when fixing the broken window.

3.-Stone Soup and Boiled Frogs

It's time to bring out the stones. Work out what you can reasonably ask for. Develop it well. Once you've got it, show people, and let them marvel. Then say "of course, it would be better if we added…."

People find it easier to join an ongoing success.

Tip 5: Be a Catalyst for Change

Most software disasters start out too small to notice, and most project overruns happen a day at a time.

If you take a frog and drop it into boiling water, it will jump straight back out again. However, if you place the frog in a pan of cold water, then gradually heat it, the frog won't notice the slow increase in temperature and will stay put until cooked.

Don't be like the frog. Keep an eye on the big picture.

Tip 6: Remember the Big Picture

4.-Good enough soup

The scope and quality of the system you produce should be specified as part of that system's requirements.

Tip 7: Make Quality a Requirements Issue

Great software today is often preferable to perfect software tomorrow. Know When to Stop

5.-Your Knowledge Portfolio

An investment in knowledge always pays the best interest.

Serious investors invest regularly—as a habit.

Diversification is the key to long-term success.

Smart investors balance their portfolios between conservative and high-risk,high-reward investments.

Investors try to buy low and sell high for maximum return.

Portfolios should be reviewed and rebalanced periodically

Building Your Portfolio

Invest regularly

Diversify

Manage risk

Buy low, sell High

Review and rebalance

Tip 8: Invest Regularly in Your Knowledge Portfolio

Goals

Learn at least one new language every year.

Read a technical book each quarter.

Read nontechnical books, too.

Take classes.

Participate in local user groups.

Experiment with different environments.

Stay current.

Get wired.

You need to ensure that the knowledge in your portfolio is accurate and unswayed by either vendor or media hype. Tip 9: Critically Analyze What You Read and Hear

6.-Communicate

Know what you want to say. Plan what you want to say. Write an outline.

Know your audience. (WISDOM acrostic)

Choose your moment: Understanding when your audience needs to hear your information.

Choose a style: Just the facts, large bound reports, a simple memo.

Make it look good: Add good-looking vehicle to your important ideas and engage your audience.

Involve your audience: Get their feedback, and pick their brains.

Be a listener: Encourage people to talk by asking questions.

Get back to people: Keep people informed afterwards. Tip 10: It's Both What You Say and the Way You Say It

What they Want?

What is their Interest?

How Sophisticated are they?

How much Detail they want?

Who do you want to Own the information?

How can you Motivate them to listen?

Chapter 2. A Pragmatic Approach

7.-The Evils of Duplication

The problem arises when you need to change a representation of things that are across all the code base. Every piece of knowledge must have a single, unambiguous, authoritative representation within a system.

Tip 11: DRY—Don't Repeat Yourself

Types of duplication:

Imposed duplication Developers feel they have no choice—the environment seems to require duplication.

Inadvertent duplication Developers don't realize that they are duplicating information.

Impatient duplication Developers get lazy and duplicate because it seems easier.

Interdeveloper duplication Multiple people on a team (or on different teams) duplicate a piece of information.

Tip 12: Make it easy to reuse

8.-Orthogonality

Two or more things are orthogonal if changes in one do not affect any of the others. Also called cohesion. Write "shy" code.

Tip 13: Eliminate Effects Between Unrelated Things

Benefits:

Gain Productivity

Reduce Risk

Project Teams: Functionality is divided

Design: Easier to design a complete project through its components

Toolkits and Libraries: Choose wisely to keep orthogonality

Coding: In order to keep orthogonality when adding code do:

Testing: Orthogonal systems are easier to test.

Documentation: Also gain quality

Changes are localized

Promotes reuse

M x N orthogonal components do more than M x N non orthogonal components

Diseased sections or code are isolated

Are better tested

Not tied to a product or platform

Keep your code decoupled

Avoid global data

Avoid similar functions

9.-Reversibility

Be prepared for changes.

Tip 14: There are no Final Decisions.

10-Tracer Bullets

In new projects your users requirements may be vague. Use of new algorithms, techniques, languages, or libraries unknowns will come. And environment will change over time before you are done. We're looking for something that gets us from a requirement to some aspect of the final system quickly, visibly, and repeatably.

Tip 15: Use Tracer Bullets to Find the Target

Advantages:

Users get to see something working early

Developers build a structure to work in

You have an integration platform

You have something to demonstrate

You have a better feel for progress

Tracer Bullets Don't Always Hit Their Target

Tracer bullets show what you're hitting. This may not always be the target. You then adjust your aim until they're on target. That's the point.

Tracer Code versus Prototyping

With a prototype, you're aiming to explore specific aspects of the final system. Tracer code is used to know how the application as a whole hangs together.

Prototyping generates disposable code. Tracer code is lean but complete, and forms part of the skeleton of the final system.

11.-Prototypes and Post-it Notes

We build software prototypes to analyze and expose risk, and to offer chances for correction at a greatly reduced cost.

Prototype anything that:

carries risk

hasn't been tried before

is absolutely critical to the final system

is unproven

is experimental

is doubtful

Samples:

Architecture

New functionality in an existing system

Structure or contents of external data

Third-party tools or components

Performance issues

User interface design

Tip 16: Prototype to Learn

Avoid details:

Correctness

Completeness

Robustness

Style

Prototyping Architecture:

Are the responsibilities of the major components well defined and appropriate?

Are the collaborations between major components well defined?

Is coupling minimized?

Can you identify potential sources of duplication?

Are interface definitions and constraints acceptable?

Does every module have an access path to the data it needs during execution?

Never deploy the prototype

12.-Domain Languages

Tip 17: Program Close to the Problem domain

13.-Estimating

Tip 18: Estimate to Avoid Surprises

How Accurate Is Accurate Enough?

First: Do they need high accuracy, or are they looking for a ballpark figure?

Second: Scale time estimates properly

Duration

Quote estimate in

1-15 days

days

3-8 weeks

weeks

8-30 weeks

months

30+ weeks

think hard before giving an estimate

Where Do Estimates Come From?

Ask someone who's been in a similar situation in the past.

Understand What's Being Asked

Build a Model of the System

Break the Model into Components

Give Each Parameter a Value

Calculate the Answers

Keep Track of Your Estimating Prowess

Estimating Project Schedules

The only way to determine the timetable for a project is by gaining experience on that same project. Practice incremental development, repeating the following steps:

Guess estimation

Check requirements

Analyze risk

Design, implement, integrate

Validate with the users

Repeat

The refinement and confidence in the schedule gets better and better each iteration

Tip 19: Iterate the Schedule with the Code

What to Say When Asked for an Estimate

"I'll get back to you."

Challenges

Start keeping a log of your estimates. For each, track how accurate you turned out to be. If your error was greater than 50%, try to find out where your estimate went wrong.

Chapter 3. The Basic Tools

Tip 20: Keep Knowledge in plain text

14.-The Power of Plain Text

Drawbacks

more space

computationally more expensive

The Power of Text

Insurance against obsolescence: you will always have a chance to be able to use text.

Leverage: Virtually every tool in the computing can operate on plain text.

Easier testing

15.-Shell Games

Tip 21: Use the power of command Shells

Can't you do everything equally well by pointing and clicking in a GUI? No. A benefit of GUIs is WYSIWYG—what you see is what you get. The disadvantage is WYSIAYG—what you see is all you get.

16.-Power Editing

Tip 22: Use a Single Editor Well

Editor "must" features

Configurable

Extensible

Programmable

Syntax highlighting

Auto-completion

Auto-indentation

Initial code or document boilerplate

Tie-in to help systems

IDE-like features (compile, debug, and so on)

17.-Source Code Control

Tip 23: Always Use Source Code Control

18.-Debugging

Tip 24: Fix the Problem, Not the Blame Tip 25: Don't Panic

A Debugging Mindset

Don't waste a single neuron on the train of thought that begins "but that can't happen" because quite clearly it can, and has. Try to discover the root cause of a problem, not just this particular appearance of it.

Where to Start

Before you start, check the warnings or better remove all of them.

You first need to be accurate in your observations and data.

Debugging Strategies

Bug Reproduction

The best way to start fixing a bug is to make it reproducible.

The second best way is to make it reproducible with a single command.

Visualize Your Data

Use the tools that the debugger offers you. Pen and paper can also help.

Tracing

Now what happens before and after.

Rubber Ducking

Explain the bug to someone else.

Process of Elimination

It is possible that a bug exists in the OS, the compiler, or a third-party product—but this should not be your first thought. Tip 26: "select" Isn't Broken

The Element of Surprise

Tip 27: Don't Assume It—Prove It

Debugging Checklist

Is the problem being reported a direct result of the underlying bug, or merely asymptom?

Is the bug really in the compiler? Is it in the OS? Or is it in your code?

If you explained this problem in detail to a coworker, what would you say?

If the suspect code passes its unit tests, are the tests complete enough? What happens if you run the unit test with this data?

Do the conditions that caused this bug exist anywhere else in the system?

19.-Text Manipulation

Tip 28: Learn a Text Manipulation Language

20.-Code Generators

Tip 29: Write Code That Writes Code Two main types of code generators:

Passive code generators are run once to produce a result. They are basically parameterized templates, generating a given output from a set of inputs.

Active code generators are used each time their results are required. Take a single representation of some piece of knowledge and convert it into all the forms your application needs.

Code Generators Needn't Be Complex

Keep the input format simple, and the code generator becomes simple.

Code Generators Needn't Generate Code

You can use code generators to write just about any output: HTML, XML, plain text - any text that might be an input somewhere else in your project.

Chapter 4. A Pragmatic Paranoia

Tip 30: You can't write Perfect Software No one in the brief history of computing has ever written a piece of perfect software. Pragmatic Programmers don't trust themselves, either.

21.-Design by Contract

A correct program is one that does no more and no less than it claims to do. Use:

Preconditions

Postconditions

Invariants

Tip 31: Design with Contracts

Write "lazy" code: be strict in what you will accept before you begin, and promise as little as possible in return.

Implementing DBC

Simply enumerating at design time:

what the input domain range is

what the boundary conditions are

what the routine promises to deliver (and what it doesn't)

Assertions

You can use assertions to apply DBC in some range. (Assertions are not propagated in subclasses)

DBC enforce Crashing Early

Invariants

Loop Invariants: Is true before and during the loop therefore also when the loop finishes

Semantic Invariants: ie the error should be on the side of not processing a transaction rather than processing a duplicate transaction.

22.-Dead Programs Tell No Lies

All errors give you information. Pragmatic Programmers tell themselves that if there is an error, something very, very bad has happened.

Tip 32: Crash Early

A dead program normally does a lot less damage than a crippled one.

When your code discovers that something that was supposed to be impossible just happened, your program is no longer viable.

23.-Assertive Programming

Tip 33: If It Can't Happen, Use Assertions to Ensure That It Won't

Assertions are also useful checks on an algorithm's operation.

Don't use assertions in place of real error handling.

Leave Assertions Turned On, unless you have critical performance issues.

24.-When to Use Exceptions

Tip 34: Use Exceptions for Exceptional Problems

What Is Exceptional?

The program must run if all the exception handlers are removed If your code tries to open a file for reading and that file does not exist, should an exception be raised

Yes: If the file should have been there

No: If you have no idea whether the file should exist or not

25.-How to Balance Resources

When managing resources: memory, transactions, threads, flies, timers—all kinds of things with limited availability, we have to close, finish, delete, deallocate them when we are done. Tip 35: Finish What You Start

Nest Allocations

1.-Deallocate resources in the opposite order to that in which you allocate them

2.-When allocating the same set of resources in different places in your code, always allocate them in the same order (prevent deadlocks)

Objects and Exceptions

Use finally to free resources.

Chapter 5. Bend or Break

26.-Decoupling and the Law of Demeter

Minimize Coupling

Be careful about how many other modules you interact with and how you came to interact with them.

Traversing relationships between objects directly can quickly lead to a combinatorial explosion.

book.pages().last().text(). // Instead, we're supposed to go with: book.textOfLastPage()

Symptoms:

Large projects where the command to link a unit test is longer than the test program itself

"Simple" changes to one module that propagate through unrelated modules in the system

Developers who are afraid to change code because they aren't sure what might be affected

The Law of Demeter for Functions

The Law of Demeter for functions states that any method of an object should call only methods belonging to:

class Demeter { private A a; void m(B b) { a.hello(); //itself b.hello(); //any parameters that were passed to the method new Z().hello(); // any object it created Singleton.INSTANCE.hello(); // any directly held component } }

Tip 36: Minimize Coupling Between Modules

Does It Really Make a Difference?

Using The Law of Demeter will make your code more adaptable and robust, but at a cost: you will be writing a large number of wrapper methods that simply forward the request on to a delegate. imposing both a runtime cost and a space overhead. Balance the pros and cons for your particular application.

27.-Metaprogramming

"Out with the details!" Get them out of the code. While we're at it, we can make our code highly configurable and "soft"—that is, easily adaptable to changes.

Dynamic Configuration

Tip 37: Configure, Don't Integrate

Metadata-Driven Applications

We want to configure and drive the application via metadata as much as possible. Program for the general case, and put the specifics somewhere else —outside the compiled code base Tip 38: Put Abstractions in Code Details in Metadata

Benefits:

It forces you to decouple your design, which results in a more flexible and adaptable program.

It forces you to create a more robust, abstract design by deferring details—deferring them all the way out of the program.

You can customize the application without recompiling it.

Metadata can be expressed in a manner that's much closer to the problem domain than a general-purpose programming language might be.

You may even be able to implement several different projects using the same application engine, but with different metadata.

When to Configure

A flexible approach is to write programs that can reload their configuration while they're running.

long-running server process: provide some way to reread and apply metadata while the program is running.

small client GUI application: if restarts quickly no problem.

28.- Temporal Coupling

Two aspects of time:

Concurrency: things happening at the same time

Ordering: the relative positions of things in time

We need to allow for concurrency and to think about decoupling any time or order dependencies. Reduce any time-based dependencies

Workflow

Use activity diagrams to maximize parallelism by identifying activities that could be performed in parallel, but aren't.

Tip 39: Analyze Workflow to Improve Concurrency

Architecture

Balance load among multiple consumer processes: the hungry consumer model.

In a hungry consumer model, you replace the central scheduler with a number of independent consumer tasks and a centralized work queue. Each consumer task grabs a piece from the work queue and goes on about the business of processing it. As each task finishes its work, it goes back to the queue for some more. This way, if any particular task gets bogged down, the others can pick up the slack, and each individual component can proceed at its own pace. Each component is temporally decoupled from the others.

Tip 40: Design Using Services

Design for Concurrency

Programming with threads imposes some design constraints—and that's a good thing.

Global or static variables must be protected from concurrent access

Check if you need a global variable in the first place.

Consistent state information, regardless of the order of calls

Objects must always be in a valid state when called, and they can be called at the most awkward times. Use class invariants, discussed in Design by Contract.

Cleaner Interfaces

Thinking about concurrency and time-ordered dependencies can lead you to design cleaner interfaces as well.

Tip 41: Always Design for Concurrency

Deployment

You can be flexible as to how the application is deployed: standalone, client-server, or n-tier.

If we design to allow for concurrency, we can more easily meet scalability or performance requirements when the time comes—and if the time never comes, we still have the benefit of a cleaner design.

29.-It's Just a View

Publish/Subscribe

Objects should be able to register to receive only the events they need, and should never be sent events they don't need.

Use this publish/subscribe mechanism to implement a very important design concept: the separation of a model from views of the model.

Model-View-Controller

Separates the model from both the GUI that represents it and the controls that manage the view.

Advantage:

Support multiple views of the same data model.

Use common viewers on many different data models.

Support multiple controllers to provide nontraditional input mechanisms.

Tip 42: Separate Views from Models

Beyond GUIs

The controller is more of a coordination mechanism, and doesn't have to be related to any sort of input device.

Model The abstract data model representing the target object. The model has no direct knowledge of any views or controllers.

View A way to interpret the model. It subscribes to changes in the model and logical events from the controller.

Controller A way to control the view and provide the model with new data. It publishes events to both the model and the view.

30.-Blackboards

A blackboard system lets us decouple our objects from each other completely, providing a forum where knowledge consumers and producers can exchange data anonymously and asynchronously.

Blackboard Implementations

With Blackboard systems, you can store active objects—not just data—on the blackboard, and retrieve them by partial matching of fields (via templates and wildcards) or by subtypes.

Functions that a Blackboard system should have:

read Search for and retrieve data from the space.

write Put an item into the space.

take Similar to read, but removes the item from the space as well.

notify Set up a notification to occur whenever an object is written that matches the template.

Organizing Your Blackboard by partitioning it when working on large cases.

Tip 43: Use Blackboards to Coordinate Workflow

Chapter 6. While you are coding

31.-Program by Coincidence

We should avoid programming by coincidence—relying on luck and accidental successes— in favor of programming deliberately. Tip 44: Don't Program by Coincidence

How to Program Deliberately

Always be aware of what you are doing.

Don't code blindfolded.

Proceed from a plan.

Rely only on reliable things.

Document your assumptions. Design by Contract.

Don't just test your code, but test your assumptions as well. Don't guess Assertive Programming

Prioritize your effort.

Don't be a slave to history. Don't let existing code dictate future code. Refactoring

32.-Algorithm Speed

Pragmatic Programmers estimate the resources that algorithms use—time, processor, memory, and so on.

Use: Big O Notation

O(1): Constant (access element in array, simple statements)

bool IsFirstElementNull(IList<string> elements) { return elements[0] == null; }

O(lg(n)): Logarithmic (binary search) lg(n) = lg2(n)

Int BinarySearch(list, target) { lo = 1, hi = size(list) while (lo <= hi){ mid = lo + (hi-lo)/2 if (list[mid] == target) return mid else if (list[mid] < target) lo = mid+1 else hi = mid-1 } }

O(n): Linear: Sequential search

bool ContainsValue(IList<string> elements, string value) { foreach (var element in elements) { if (element == value) return true; } return false; }

O(n lg(n)): Worse than linear but not much worse(average runtime of quickshort, headsort)

O(n²): Square law (selection and insertion sorts)

bool ContainsDuplicates(IList<string> elements) { for (var outer = 0; outer < elements.Count; outer++) { for (var inner = 0; inner < elements.Count; inner++) { // Don't compare with self if (outer == inner) continue; if (elements[outer] == elements[inner]) return true; } } return false; }

O(n³): Cubic (multiplication of 2 n x n matrices)

O(Cⁿ): Exponential (travelling salesman problem, set partitioning)

int Fibonacci(int number) { if (number <= 1) return number; return Fibonacci(number - 2) + Fibonacci(number - 1); }

Common Sense Estimation

Simple loops: O(n)

Nested loops: O(n²)

Binary chop: O(lg(n))

Divide and conquer: O(n lg(n)). Algorithms that partition their input, work on the two halves independently, and then combine the result.

Combinatoric: O(Cⁿ)

Tip 45: Estimate the Order of Your Algorithms

Tip 46: Test Your Estimates

Best Isn't Always Best

Be pragmatic about choosing appropriate algorithms—the fastest one is not always the best for the job.

Be wary of premature optimization. Make sure an algorithm really is a bottleneck before investing time improving it.

33.-Refactoring

Code needs to evolve; it's not a static thing.

When Should You Refactor?

Duplication. You've discovered a violation of the DRY principle (The Evils of Duplication).

Nonorthogonal design. You've discovered some code or design that could be made more orthogonal (Orthogonality).

Outdated knowledge. Things change, requirements drift, and your knowledge of the problem increases. Code needs to keep up.

Performance. You need to move functionality from one area of the system to another to improve performance.

Tip 47: Refactor Early, Refactor Often

How Do You Refactor?

Don't try to refactor and add functionality at the same time.

Make sure you have good tests before you begin refactoring.

Take short, deliberate steps.

34.-Code That's Easy to Test

Build testability into the software from the very beginning, and test each piece thoroughly before trying to wire them together.

Unit Testing

Testing done on each module, in isolation, to verify its behavior. A software unit test is code that exercises a module.

Testing Against Contract

This will tell us two things:

Whether the code meet the contract

Whether the contract means what we think it means.

Tip 48: Design to Test

There's no better way to fix errors than by avoiding them in the first place. Build the tests before you implement the code.

Writing Unit Tests

By making the test code readily accessible, you are providing developers who may use your code with two invaluable resources:

Examples of how to use all the functionality of your module

A means to build regression tests to validate any future changes to the code

You must run them, and run them often.

Using Test Harnesses

Test harnesses should include the following capabilities:

A standard way to specify setup and cleanup

A method for selecting individual tests or all available tests

A means of analyzing output for expected (or unexpected) results

A standardized form of failure reporting

Build a Test Window

Log files.

Hot-key sequence.

Built-in Web server.

A Culture of Testing

Tip 49: Test Your Software, or Your Users Will

35.-Evil Wizards

If you do use a wizard, and you don't understand all the code that it produces, you won't be in control of your own application.

Tip 50: Don't Use Wizard Code You Don't Understand

Chapter 7. Before the project

36.-The Requirements Pit

Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away….

Tip 51: Don't Gather Requirements—Dig for Them

Digging for Requirements

Policy may end up as metadata in the application.

Gathering requirements in this way naturally leads you to a system that is well factored to support metadata.

Tip 52: Work with a User to Think Like a User

Documenting Requirements

Use "use cases"

Overspecifying

Requirements are not architecture. Requirements are not design, nor are they the user interface. Requirements are need.

Seeing Further

Tip 53: Abstractions Live Longer than Details

Just One More Wafer-Thin Mint…

What can we do to prevent requirements from creeping up on us?

The key to managing growth of requirements is to point out each new feature's impact on the schedule to the project sponsors.

Maintain a Glossary

It's very hard to succeed on a project where the users and developers refer to the same thing by different names or, even worse, refer to different things by the same name. Tip 54: Use a Project Glossary

Get the Word Out

Publishing project documents to internal Web sites for easy access by all participants.

37.-Solving Impossible Puzzles

Degrees of Freedom

The key to solving puzzles is both to recognize the constraints placed on you and to recognize the degrees of freedom you do have, for in those you'll find your solution.

Tip 55: Don't Think Outside the Box—Find the Box

There Must Be an Easier Way!

If you can not find the solution, step back and ask yourself these questions:

Is there an easier way?

Are you trying to solve the right problem, or have you been distracted by a peripheral technicality?

Why is this thing a problem?

What is it that's making it so hard to solve?

Does it have to be done this way?

Does it have to be done at all?

38.-Not Until You're Ready

If you sit down to start typing and there's some nagging doubt in your mind, heed it. Tip 56: Listen to Nagging Doubts—Start When You're Ready

Good Judgment or Procrastination?

Start prototyping. Choose an area that you feel will be difficult and begin producing some kind of proof of concept, and be sure to remember why you're doing it and that it is a prototype.

39.-The Specification Trap

Writing a specification is quite a responsibility.

You should know when to stop:

Specification will never capture every detail of a system or its requirement.

The expressive power of language itself might not be enough to describe a specification

A design that leaves the coder no room for interpretation robs the programming effort of any skill and art.

Tip 57: Some Things Are Better Done than Described

40.-Circles and Arrows

Tip 58: Don't Be a Slave to Formal Methods

Formal methods have some serious shortcomings:

Diagrams are meaningless to the end users, show the user a prototype and let them play with it.

Formal methods seem to encourage specialization. It may not be possible to have an in-depth grasp of every aspect of a system.

We like to write adaptable, dynamic systems, using metadata to allow us to change the character of applications at runtime, but most current formal methods don't allow it.

Do Methods Pay Off?

Never underestimate the cost of adopting new tools and methods.

Should We Use Formal Methods?

Absolutely but remember that is just one more tool in the toolbox.

Tip 59: Expensive Tools Do Not Produce Better Designs

Chapter 8. Pragmatic Projects

41.-Pragmatic Teams

Pragmatic techniques that help an individual can work for teams.

No Broken Windows

Quality is a team issue.

Teams as a whole should not tolerate broken windows—those small imperfections that no one fixes.

Quality can come only from the individual contributions of all team members.

Boiled Frogs

People assume that someone else is handling an issue, or that the team leader must have OK'd a change that your user is requesting. Fight this.

Communicate

The team as an entity needs to communicate clearly with the rest of the world.

People look forward to meetings with them, because they know that they'll see a well-prepared performance that makes everyone feel good.

There is a simple marketing trick that helps teams communicate as one: generate a brand.

Don't Repeat Yourself

Appoint a member as the project librarian.

Orthogonality

It is a mistake to think that the activities of a project—analysis, design, coding, and testing—can happen in isolation. They can't. These are different views of the same problem, and artificially separating them can cause a boatload of trouble.

Tip 60: Organize Around Functionality, Not Job Functions

Split teams by functionally. Database, UI, API

Let the teams organize themselves internally

Each team has responsibilities to others in the project (defined by their agreed-upon commitments)

We're looking for cohesive, largely self-contained teams of people

Organize our resources using the same techniques we use to organize code, using techniques such as contracts (Design by Contract), decoupling (Decoupling and the Law of Demeter), and orthogonality (Orthogonality), and we help isolate the team as a whole from the effects of change.

Automation

Automation is an essential component of every project team

Know When to Stop Adding Paint

42.-Ubiquitous Automation

All on Automatic

Tip 61: Don't Use Manual Procedures Using cron, we can schedule backups, nightly build, Web site... unattended, automatically.

Compiling the Project

We want to check out, build, test, and ship with a single command

Generating Code

Regression Tests

Build Automation

A build is a procedure that takes an empty directory (and a known compilation environment) and builds the project from scratch, producing whatever you hope to produce as a final deliverable.

Check out the source code from the repository

Build the project from scratch (marked with the version number).

Create a distributable image

Run specified tests

When you don't run tests regularly, you may discover that the application broke due to a code change made three months ago. Good luck finding that one.

Nightly build run it every night.

Final builds (to ship as products), may have different requirements from the regular nightly build.

Automatic Administrivia

Our goal is to maintain an automatic, unattended, content-driven workflow.

Web Site Generation results of the build itself, regression tests, performance statistics, coding metrics...

Approval Procedures get marks /* Status: needs_review */, send email...

The Cobbler's Children

Let the computer do the repetitious, the mundane—it will do a better job of it than we would. We've got more important and more difficult things to do.

43.-Ruthless testing

Pragmatic Programmers are driven to find our bugs now, so we don't have to endure the shame of others finding our bugs later.

Tip 62: Test Early. Test Often. Test Automatically.

Tests that run with every build are the most effective.

The earlier a bug is found, the cheaper it is to remedy. "Code a little, test a little".

Tip 63: Coding Ain't Done 'Til All the Tests Run

3 Main aspects:

1.-What to Test

Unit testing: code that exercises a module.

Integration testing: the major subsystems that make up the project work and play well with each other.

Validation and verification: test if you are delivering what users needs.

Resource exhaustion, errors, and recovery: discover how it will behave under real-world conditions. (Memory, Disk, CPU, Screen...)

Performance testing: meets the performance requirements under real-world conditions.

Usability testing: performed with real users, under real environmental conditions.

2.-How to Test

Regression testing: compares the output of the current test with previous (or known) values. Most of the tests are regression tests.

Test data: there are only two kinds of data: real-world data and synthetic data.

Exercising GUI systems: requires specialized testing tools, based on a simple event capture/playback model.

Testing the tests: After you have written a test to detect a particular bug, cause the bug deliberately and make sure the test complains. Tip 64: Use Saboteurs to Test Your Testing

Testing thoroughly: Tip 65: Test State Coverage, Not Code Coverage

3.-When to Test

As soon as any production code exists, it needs to be tested. Most testing should be done automatically.

Tightening the Net

If a bug slips through the net of existing tests, you need to add a new test to trap it next time. Tip 66: Find Bugs Once

44.-It's All Writing

If there's a discrepancy, the code is what matters—for better or worse.

Tip 67: Treat English as Just Another Programming Language

Tip 68: Build Documentation In, Don't Bolt It On

Comments in Code

In general, comments should discuss why something is done, its purpose and its goal.

Remember that you (and others after you) will be reading the code many hundreds of times, but only writing it a few times.

Even worse than meaningless names are misleading names.

One of the most important pieces of information that should appear in the source file is the author's name—not necessarily who edited the file last, but the owner.

Executable Documents

Create documents that create schemas. The only way to change the schema is to change the document.

Technical Writers

We want the writers to embrace the same basic principles that a Pragmatic Programmer does—especially honoring the DRY principle, orthogonality, the model-view concept, and the use of automation and scripting.

Print It or Weave It

Paper documentation can become out of date as soon as it's printed.

Publish it online, on the Web.

Remember to put a date stamp or version number on each Web page.

Using a markup system, you have the flexibility to implement as many different output formats as you need.

Markup Languages

Documentation and code are different views of the same underlying model, but the view is all that should be different.

45.-Great Expectations

The success of a project is measured by how well it meets the expectations of its users.

Tip 69: Gently Exceed Your Users' Expectations

Communicating Expectations

Users initially come to you with some vision of what they want. You cannot just ignore it.

Everyone should understand what's expected and how it will be built.

The Extra Mile

Give users that little bit more than they were expecting.

Balloon or ToolTip help

Keyboard shortcuts

A quick reference guide as a supplement to the user's manual

Colorization

Log file analyzers

Automated installation

Tools for checking the integrity of the system

The ability to run multiple versions of the system for training

A splash screen customized for their organization

Pride and Prejudice

Pragmatic Programmers don't shirk from responsibility. Instead, we rejoice in accepting challenges and in making our expertise well known.

We want to see pride of ownership. "I wrote this, and I stand behind my work."

Tip 70: Sign Your Work

Quick Reference

Tips

Tip 1: Care About Your Craft Why spend your life developing software unless you care about doing it well?

Tip 2: Think! About Your Work Turn off the autopilot and take control. Constantly critique and appraise your work.

Tip 3: Provide Options, Don't Make Lame Excuses Instead of excuses, provide options. Don't say it can't be done; explain what can be done.

Tip 4: Don't Live with Broken Windows Fix bad designs, wrong decisions, and poor code when you see them.

Tip 5: Be a Catalyst for Change You can't force change on people. Instead, show them how the future might be and help them participate in creating it.

Tip 6: Remember the Big Picture Don't get so engrossed in the details that you forget to check what's happening around you.

Tip 7: Make Quality a Requirements Issue Involve your users in determining the project's real quality requirements.

Tip 8: Invest Regularly in Your Knowledge Portfolio Make learning a habit.

Tip 9: Critically Analyze What You Read and Hear Don't be swayed by vendors, media hype, or dogma. Analyze information in terms of you and your project.

Tip 10: It's Both What You Say and the Way You Say It There's no point in having great ideas if you don't communicate them effectively.

Tip 11: DRY – Don't Repeat Yourself Every piece of knowledge must have a single, unambiguous, authoritative representation within a system.

Tip 12: Make It Easy to Reuse If it's easy to reuse, people will. Create an environment that supports reuse.

Tip 13: Eliminate Effects Between Unrelated Things Design components that are self-contained, independent, and have a single, well-defined purpose.

Tip 14: There Are No Final Decisions No decision is cast in stone. Instead, consider each as being written in the sand at the beach, and plan for change.

Tip 15: Use Tracer Bullets to Find the Target Tracer bullets let you home in on your target by trying things and seeing how close they land.

Tip 12: Prototype to Learn Prototyping is a learning experience. Its value lies not in the code you produce, but in the lessons you learn.

Tip 17: Program Close to the Problem Domain Design and code in your user's language.

Tip 18: Estimate to Avoid Surprises Estimate before you start. You'll spot potential problems up front.

Tip 19: Iterate the Schedule with the Code Use experience you gain as you implement to refine the project time scales.

Tip 20: Keep Knowledge in Plain Text Plain text won't become obsolete. It helps leverage your work and simplifies debugging and testing.

Tip 21: Use the Power of Command Shells Use the shell when graphical user interfaces don't cut it.

Tip 22: Use a Single Editor Well The editor should be an extension of your hand; make sure your editor is configurable, extensible, and programmable.

Tip 23: Always Use Source Code Control Source code control is a time machine for your work – you can go back.

Tip 24: Fix the Problem, Not the Blame It doesn't really matter whether the bug is your fault or someone else's – it is still your problem, and it still needs to be fixed.

Tip 25: Don't Panic When Debugging Take a deep breath and THINK! about what could be causing the bug.

Tip 26: "select" Isn't Broken. It is rare to find a bug in the OS or the compiler, or even a third-party product or library. The bug is most likely in the application.

Tip 27: Don't Assume It – Prove It Prove your assumptions in the actual environment – with real data and boundary conditions.

Tip 28: Learn a Text Manipulation Language. You spend a large part of each day working with text. Why not have the computer do some of it for you?

Tip 29: Write Code That Writes Code Code generators increase your productivity and help avoid duplication.

Tip 30: You Can't Write Perfect Software Software can't be perfect. Protect your code and users from the inevitable errors.

Tip 31: Design with Contracts Use contracts to document and verify that code does no more and no less than it claims to do.

Tip 32: Crash Early A dead program normally does a lot less damage than a crippled one.

Tip 33: Use Assertions to Prevent the Impossible Assertions validate your assumptions. Use them to protect your code from an uncertain world.

Tip 34: Use Exceptions for Exceptional Problems Exceptions can suffer from all the readability and maintainability problems of classic spaghetti code. Reserve exceptions for exceptional things.

Tip 35: Finish What You Start Where possible, the routine or object that allocates a resource should be responsible for deallocating it.

Tip 36: Minimize Coupling Between Modules Avoid coupling by writing "shy" code and applying the Law of Demeter.

Tip 37: Configure, Don't Integrate Implement technology choices for an application as configuration options, not through integration or engineering.

Tip 38: Put Abstractions in Code, Details in Metadata Program for the general case, and put the specifics outside the compiled code base.

Tip 39: Analyze Workflow to Improve Concurrency Exploit concurrency in your user's workflow.

Tip 40: Design Using Services Design in terms of services – independent, concurrent objects behind well-defined, consistent interfaces.

Tip 41: Always Design for Concurrency Allow for concurrency, and you'll design cleaner interfaces with fewer assumptions.

Tip 42: Separate Views from Models Gain flexibility at low cost by designing your application in terms of models and views.

Tip 43: Use Blackboards to Coordinate Workflow Use blackboards to coordinate disparate facts and agents, while maintaining independence and isolation among participants.

Tip 44: Don't Program by Coincidence Rely only on reliable things. Beware of accidental complexity, and don't confuse a happy coincidence with a purposeful plan.

Tip 45: Estimate the Order of Your Algorithms Get a feel for how long things are likely to take before you write code.

Tip 46: Test Your Estimates Mathematical analysis of algorithms doesn't tell you everything. Try timing your code in its target environment.

Tip 47: Refactor Early, Refactor Often Just as you might weed and rearrange a garden, rewrite, rework, and re-architect code when it needs it. Fix the root of the problem.

Tip 48: Design to Test Start thinking about testing before you write a line of code.

Tip 49: Test Your Software, or Your Users Will Test ruthlessly. Don't make your users find bugs for you.

Tip 50: Don't Use Wizard Code You Don't Understand Wizards can generate reams of code. Make sure you understand all of it before you incorporate it into your project.

Tip 51: Don't Gather Requirements – Dig for Them Requirements rarely lie on the surface. They're buried deep beneath layers of assumptions, misconceptions, and politics.

Tip 52: Work With a User to Think Like a User It's the best way to gain insight into how the system will really be used.

Tip 53: Abstractions Live Longer than Details Invest in the abstraction, not the implementation. Abstractions can survive the barrage of changes from different implementations and new technologies.

Tip 54: Use a Project Glossary Create and maintain a single source of all the specific terms and vocabulary for a project.

Tip 55: Don't Think Outside the Box – Find the Box When faced with an impossible problem, identify the real constraints. Ask yourself: "Does it have to be done this way? Does it have to be done at all?"

Tip 56: Start When You're Ready. You've been building experience all your life. Don't ignore niggling doubts.

Tip 57: Some Things Are Better Done than Described Don't fall into the specification spiral – at some point you need to start coding.

Tip 58: Don't Be a Slave to Formal Methods. Don't blindly adopt any technique without putting it into the context of your development practices and capabilities.

Tip 59: Costly Tools Don't Produce Better Designs Beware of vendor hype, industry dogma, and the aura of the price tag. Judge tools on their merits.

Tip 60: Organize Teams Around Functionality Don't separate designers from coders, testers from data modelers. Build teams the way you build code.

Tip 61: Don't Use Manual Procedures A shell script or batch file will execute the same instructions, in the same order, time after time.

Tip 62: Test Early. Test Often. Test Automatically Tests that run with every build are much more effective than test plans that sit on a shelf.

Tip 63: Coding Ain't Done 'Til All the Tests Run 'Nuff said.

Tip 64: Use Saboteurs to Test Your Testing Introduce bugs on purpose in a separate copy of the source to verify that testing will catch them.

Tip 65: Test State Coverage, Not Code Coverage Identify and test significant program states. Just testing lines of code isn't enough.

Tip 66: Find Bugs Once Once a human tester finds a bug, it should be the last time a human tester finds that bug. Automatic tests should check for it from then on.

Tip 67: English is Just a Programming Language Write documents as you would write code: honor the DRY principle, use metadata, MVC, automatic generation, and so on.

Tip 68: Build Documentation In, Don't Bolt It On Documentation created separately from code is less likely to be correct and up to date.

Tip 69: Gently Exceed Your Users' Expectations Come to understand your users' expectations, then deliver just that little bit more.

Tip 70: Sign Your Work Craftsmen of an earlier age were proud to sign their work. You should be, too.

CheckList

Languages To Learn

Tired of C, C++, and Java? Try the following languages. Each of these languages has different capabilities and a different "flavor." Try a small project at home using one or more of them.

CLOS

Dylan

Eiffel

Objective C

Prolog

Smalltalk

TOM

The WISDOM Acrostic

What do you want them to learn?

What is their interest in what you've got to say?

How sophisticated are they?

How much detail do they want?

Whom do you want to own the information?

How can you motivate them to listen to you?

How to Maintain Orthogonality

Design independent, well-defined components.

Keep your code decoupled.

Avoid global data.

Refactor similar functions.

Things to prototype

Architecture

New functionality in an existing system

Structure or contents of external data

Third-party tools or components

Performance issues

User interface design

Architectural Questions

Are responsibilities well defined?

Are the collaborations well defined?

Is coupling minimized?

Can you identify potential duplication?

Are interface definitions and constraints acceptable?

Can modules access needed data – when needed?

Debugging Checklist

Is the problem being reported a direct result of the underlying bug, or merely a symptom?

Is the bug really in the compiler? Is it in the OS? Or is it in your code?

If you explained this problem in detail to a coworker, what would you say?

If the suspect code passes its unit tests, are the tests complete enough? What happens if you run the unit test with this data?

Do the conditions that caused this bug exist anywhere else in the system?

Law of Demeter for Functions

An object's method should call only methods belonging to:

Itself

Any parameters passed in

Objects it creates

Component objects

How to Program Deliberately

Stay aware of what you're doing.

Don't code blindfolded.

Proceed from a plan.

Rely only on reliable things.

Document your assumptions.

Test assumptions as well as code.

Prioritize your effort.

Don't be a slave to history.

When to Refactor

You discover a violation of the DRY principle.

You find things that could be more orthogonal.

Your knowledge improves.

The requirements evolve.

You need to improve performance.

Cutting the Gordian Knot

When solving impossible problems, ask yourself:

Is there an easier way?

Am I solving the right problem?

Why is this a problem?

What makes it hard?

Do I have to do it this way?

Does it have to be done at all?

Aspects of Testing

Unit testing

Integration testing

Validation and verification

Resource exhaustion, errors, and recovery

Performance testing

Usability testing

Testing the tests themselves

0 notes

spinach-productions · 8 years ago

Text

Baby Spinach, chapter 10

Summary: Gaster is stealthy, agile, and a decent marksman, in that order.

Word count: 2740

Sorry for the radio silence guys, I’ve had some Real Life stuff going on. But! It’s been mostly resolved, and I’m back for the foreseeable future!

Thank you ten million times to @spocksbedsidemanner, who is a fantastic editor and really helped me get this thing into shape.

Enjoy!

On this list of things Gaster doesn’t like to do, stealth ranks just below lying and deception. Luckily, he’s much more skilled at this one than the others. He takes a seat next to the imposter after dinner and starts a conversation about his work, asking questions about the nature of the blue human soul as he silently fishes the large keyring from his pocket. It’s nerve-racking work, but Gaster manages to palm the keys up his sleeve without attracting attention.

In spite of his disingenuous pretense, Gaster finds himself absorbed in the imposter’s explanations. His work, though gruesome, is fascinating; cobbling two functional monsters from bits and piece of incompatible souls is no small feat. Under different circumstances, this man could have been a brilliant scientist.

“But you only took small samples of the two souls,” Gaster asks, skipping over the details of where those souls came from, “What did you do to fuse them together?”

The imposter grins widely and ushers Gaster into the maze of shelves. He takes a series of twisting turns, chattering about the resilience of humanity. “It’s a shame they’re trying to destroy us,” he says as they pass another series of intersections.

The space opens into the center area, which is dominated by the covered cylinder and the varied equipment standing guard over it. The imposter takes a corner of the dropcloth and yanks it off, like a magician performing a trick. Gaster is momentarily blinded by the blue glare. He peers around his own arm at the human child’s soul, suspended in some kind of liquid-filled tank.

“I thought you took pieces of this?” he asks.

“I did,” the imposter replies. He’s looking at the soul with something close to reverence. “It healed.”

“What?”

“Let me explain: human bodies are slightly more durable than monster bodies because they expend energy on magic. But their souls are infinitely stronger! I’ve taken enough from this one that it should be nonfunctional, but each time it would generate enough material to repair itself.”

He conjures his own soul in one hand. Gaster gasps. It’s battered and painfully torn, missing pieces along the edges. Two sizeable fragments have been removed, leaving only two-thirds remaining. What must have once been an impressive blue glow now pulses irregularly, giving off bursts of light between long moments of dimness.

“This is what the human soul should look like,” the imposter says, staring his own damaged soul. “But it doesn’t. The human soul combined with the pieces of mine to bring my sons to life.”

This man willing mutilated himself in the hopes of breaking the barrier. Gaster shudders and averts his eyes. He tightens his fingers around the keyring in his pocket. Sans and Papyrus will not stay in this man’s custody for another day, he decides. They leave tonight.

The only source of light is the blue soul. It sits uncovered in its chamber, casting blue light over the various shelves. Some of the more reflective items bounce the light back; otherwise, the room is murky and dark.

The path to the door is short if done in a straight shot, but Gaster and the children skirt around and behind furniture to avoid being in the open. Sans is breathing quickly, but quietly. Gaster doesn’t dare breathe at all. Even Papyrus seems to understand the need for silence as they make their way across the room.

Finally, they reach the front door. Gaster hands Papyrus to Sans, pulls the keyring from his pocket, and begins flipping through the numerous keys. There must be more than a dozen, each unlabeled and barely distinguishable from the others. The keys to Sans’ and Papyrus’ rooms were found through trial and error, so Gaster tries each one on the two front door keyholes, hoping to complete the process without drawing attention.

Five minutes later, none of the combinations have worked.

“What’s wrong?” Sans hisses.

Gaster’s mouth thins into a long, irritated line. This was a completely predictably scenario. The imposter sacrificed a scientific career and at least ten years of his life on the children and the human heart, of course getting out wouldn’t be as easy as grabbing the keys from his pocket.

From behind him, someone clears their throat.

Gaster turns around.

In the stress of the moment, he missed that one of the things reflecting the human soul’s blue glow was a pair of reading glasses, perched at the end of the imposter’s nose. He’s sitting at one of the reading tables, pouring over one of the many stacks of paper that seems to live there. It’s hard to tell in the dim light, but he seems amused.

“Having some difficulty there, Doctor?” the imposter asks.

Gaster pushes the children behind him. “I’d like the keys.”

“And why would I give you those?”

“Because I’d like to leave.”

“And I suppose you intend to take my children with you?”

“I do.”

“I see.” He closes a notebook and puts it to the side. “Tell me, Doctor, what exactly gives you that right?”

“I don’t believe you’d understand my explanation,” Gaster replies.

The imposter removes his glasses and sets them on top of the notebook. “No matter what your intentions were in coming here, this is your place now. My sons’ destiny is to save monsterkind from this wretched cave system; yours is to help me prepare them for it. I’m sure you understand why I cannot allow you to leave.”

“I’m equally sure you understand why I can’t stay.”

The man stands and steps away from the table. He’s taller than when he first took his own shape, and his skin is beginning to take on an off-white color. “Then we seem to have reached an impasse,” he says through teeth that are now longer and sharper than his own.

Gaster throws both the children and himself behind the closest shelf as the imposter tries to grab his soul with a blue grip. Papyrus lets out a sharp cry as the shelf turns blue and books begin to fly in every direction.

“Hide!” Gaster yells over the deafening sounds of books hitting the walls and floor.

“He’s going to kill you!” Sans shouts back.

Papyrus wails.

“I won’t allow that,” Gaster says, steering both himself and Sans around the corner as another shelf’s contents explode into the room, “I’m still going to get us out of here. But to do that, I need to know that you’re safe. I wouldn’t have a reason to leave if anything happened to you.”

Sans is staring at him again. He seems to be developing a habit.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Gaster says over the din.

Sans clutches Gaster’s shirt with one hands and holds Papyrus close with the other. “Don’t die, okay?”

“I won’t,” Gaster promises. He squeezes Sans shoulder, then pushes him towards his room.

Gaster has been in exactly three fights. Two were due to misunderstandings, and the third was when the Royal Institution wanted to see if his new body would still work for testing purposes. While his overall shape was reminiscent of a human, the magic he carried over from his ghost form made him unsuitable for anti-human combat training. Not being able to help the war effort was a disappointment. But now, as purple energy forms between his palms and spins into long strands between his fingers, Gaster is quite pleased with how things turned out.

He dives out from behind the shelf just as it explodes, sending papers and wooden shards hurtling into the room; Gaster catches some of the debris in a hastily-spun web and hurls them back as he dashes for new cover. The imposter gives a dog-like yelp. He appears to have shifted into an enormous bipedal white dog with pointed ears. Gaster recognizes the form as one of the guards who covered the library crime scene after Sans and Papyrus were kidnapped. The imposter has clearly chosen physical prowess over agility in this fight. That, Gaster strategizes as he follows the lines of magic back to the imposter’s chest, might be what keeps him alive.

He throws out a purple line, aiming for the concentration of magic that hopefully contains his soul, but the imposter knocks the line aside with an enormous arm. Gaster’s accuracy is his best attribute, but his threads are brittle on their own; this one breaks upon contact and flutters to the ground. The imposter snarls and hefts a table over his shoulders in retaliation and hurls it across the room. Gaster throws himself to the side; the table smashes against the floor where he was standing, splintering into thousands of sharp pieces. His brain begins calculating the force of the impact (and if it would have outright killed him, or simply mangled his body enough for the imposter to catch him--), but he shoves the thoughts away and sprints into the maze of bookshelves for cover.

They volley back and forth as they wind through the narrow space between shelves. The imposter decimates anything Gaster uses as a shield, leaving the furniture in shambles; Gaster throws back what he can, but hasn’t been able to snag the imposter’s soul. They around each other, Gaster running ahead at each opportunity and the imposter slowly stalking after him.

Gaster ducks behind another shelf and finds himself in the open space made for the human soul and its monitoring equipment. He sprints to the center, vaulting over the machinery and scooting behind the bubbling container. Hopefully, the soul’s sparkling glow will hide Gaster long enough for him to form a strategy.

The imposter comes crashing around the same shelf a moment later, carrying one of the tables as an impromptu shield and leaving long gouges on the floor as his claws skid and dig into the tiles. Gaster watches as he sniffs the air with his newly canine nose. That, he reflects, is probably how the imposter has managed to track him so closely.

“I know you’re here,” the imposter says.

Gaster thinks it would be beyond foolish to reply, so he doesn’t.

“Well, I know you’re close,” the imposter corrects himself “I don’t know exactly where you are, but that makes this so much more exciting, don’t you think?”

He begins to move through the area. Gaster edges around the tank, keeping it between him and the man who is currently an eight-foot-tall dog with superior teeth and senses.

“Think of all we could have accomplished together, Doctor,” the imposter says as he stalks towards a control panel, “I hoped you would be able to put your emotions aside for the greater good, but I can see that was asking too much.”

Gaster takes the opportunity to slide behind a piece of machinery on the opposite side of the tank. He watches as the imposter sets down the table so it shields the panel, then starts fiddling with the computers. Gaster leans as far out of his hiding spot as he dares, but can’t get a clear shot.

“Do you know why I made the boys instead of taking the soul myself?” the imposter says as he continues to input commands into the console. “I wanted to have a backup plan in case I couldn’t complete the assignment. Human bodies are fragile, but their souls seem able to replenish themselves almost limitlessly.”

The soul dims slightly. The various monitors beep a quick warning, then go silent. Something hisses, and a piece of the containment unit begins to slide open.

“I can’t risk you going to the authorities with this information, Doctor.” He reaches into the opening and carefully removes the soul from its container. Its illuminates the small space. “Besides, I’ve always been curious about the world on the other side of the—”

The table is jerked out of the way.

The imposter spins around, looking for the cause.

Gaster summons a fistful of strings and pitches them directly at the imposter. They wrap around his wrists and pull both defending arms away from his chest—

“No!”

Several make contact with his soul. It momentarily lights up in its natural blue (dimmer than the human soul, Gaster notes), then floods with purple as Gaster’s magic takes hold. Gaster braids the strands connecting his hands to the imposter’s soul and pulls.

The imposter collapses to his knees. He thrashes against the purple magic, howling and lunging at the monster holding him down. He shifts into Lieutenant Donahue, into his own form, into something even larger and more intimidating than the royal guard Gaster fought, each form lasting just a moment before he discards it and moves on to the next, creating a hideous amalgam state between each. Gaster watches him struggle. The hatred in his chest, carried since this man first invaded his house and told him how Sans and Papyrus came into the world, slides aside just enough for a wisp of pity to come through. Gaster observes it, but doesn’t act on it.

Instead, he throws out a line for the dead human soul, pulsing silently on the floor where it was thrown in the imposter’s struggle. It fits easily in his palm. To someone else, the color might be considered beautiful.

Gaster considers the human soul in his hand, the man at the end of his magic, and the endless list of crimes this man has committed in the name of integrity. People’s lives have been ruined. Sans’ eyepatch. Papyrus’ fear of being left alone. Something vicious stirs in Gaster’s chest. The secondary poison inherent in his magic begins to leach into the imposter’s soul.

The imposter hisses as his health points begin to burn away. “This isn’t over,” he snarls.

Gaster doesn’t answer.

“This doesn’t end until I say it ends!”

He tightens the strands between his fingers until the tension makes his arm shake. The imposter grits his teeth and begins to tremble.

“Stop!”

Gaster startles out of his own thoughts as Sans comes hurdling out from behind a shelf. He throws himself into Gaster’s mid-section and throws both arms around him. “Don’t kill him,” he begs.

“Sans,” Gaster says quietly, “This man will never stop looking for you. Do you understand? He wants to turn you into a human-killing machine, he wants to turn Papyrus into a human-killing machine, and he won’t stop until that happens.”

The blue soul casts streaks of illumination over Sans’ face when he looks up. They catch on the gauze taped over his right eye and the watery tears welling in the left. “He’s my dad.”

Gaster looks at the undersized child clinging to his waist. He looks at the wretched man caught in his web, and the human soul stolen from a murdered human child in his hand. He takes a deep breath and thinks about his home: a playpen in the sitting room, kitchen cabinets stocked with baby food and ketchup, toys strewn about as they wait for two children to come back. Gaster lets the breath out slowly and feels himself settle.

“I’m sorry,” he says, storing the soul in his inventory so he can wrap the other arm around Sans, “I almost got carried away.”

“I want to go home,” Sans says.

Gaster pulls him in for a proper embrace. “Okay.”

The imposter apparently keeps the front door keys on a necklace, separate from the others on the ring. It takes some concentration to fish it out and keep him pinned down while Sans goes for help, but somehow, when Lieutenant Donahue comes charging shield first down the ladder, both Gaster and the imposter are alive and no further harmed. He gladly releases the imposter into Donahue’s custody, and gives a rough outline of the situation as other guards investigate the underground laboratory and process the imposter’s arrest. Sans keeps Gaster between himself and his father through the process, holding Papyrus close.

Donahue whistles. “Never would have suggested this if I’d known it’d put you in the middle of a fight,” she says, punching Gaster’s shoulder.

Gaster rubs the punch site with his opposite hand. “I must admit, the possibility did cross my mind, but I was prepared for it.”

She looks over Gaster’s shoulder at Sans. He’s staring at the ladder as the guards escort the imposter back to the royal facility, and he’s gripping the back of Gaster’s shirt tightly with his free hand. “Guess some things are worth fighting for,” she agrees.

- Baby Spinach - Part 10

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#Spinach Productions #baby spinach #undertale #fanfiction #fanfic #undertale fanfiction #undertale fanfic #undertale gaster #undertale sans #undertale papyrus #baby bones

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simplemlmsponsoring · 6 years ago

Photo

New Post has been published on https://simplemlmsponsoring.com/attraction-marketing-formula/list-building/12-ideas-for-generating-fresh-content-your-readers-will-absolutely-love/

12 Ideas for Generating Fresh Content Your Readers Will Absolutely LOVE

Being world-class isn’t easy.

Take Ono Jirō.

The first sushi chef to achieve three Michelin stars, the subject of the smash 2011 documentary, Jiro Dreams of Sushi, and the guy considered by many to make the best sushi in the world.

How hard does Jirō work?

He’s 90 years old and his kids once mistook him for a stranger when they saw him home on a weekday (he doesn’t usually take days off).

So it goes without saying that Jirō brings his “A-game” every single day.

The 10 people he can seat at his restaurant fully expect an out-of-this-world experience every single time—he can’t fail to deliver and risk his reputation.

But what happens when Jirō is burned out, sick, or distracted?

What happens when he doesn’t have the luxury of inspiration?

What happens when obstacles present themselves?

Well, to be frank…

Nothing happens.

Nothing out of the ordinary, that is.

He continues making the best sushi in the world, just like he does every other day of the week.

How?

To understand that, you’ve got to understand what Jirō views as the key to his success…

Repetition

No matter how he feels, Jirō does what he does best—day in, day out.

When he inevitably encounters challenges, he moves forward.

(And let’s face it, the restaurant business is filled with challenges and frustrations—especially when you’re working with fickle, subject-to-availability raw ingredients.)

However, after 80+ years in the restaurant business (he started working at the ripe old age of 7), Jirō always has an ace or two up his sleeve for when nothing’s going right—you know, those “crowd-pleasers” that are guaranteed to impress, every time.

This is important to note, because in your own way…

You’re also a chef

Think about it: as a business owner, you “cook up” eyeballs for your offers from a basic set of ingredients…

Your blog posts, emails to your mailing list, branding videos, social media interactions, etc. are all at your disposal when building a network marketing business.

And sometimes—just like Jirō—you need to be on your “A-game,” but you just aren’t feeling it.

That’s okay…

You’re about to learn 12 proven content-creation ideas to fall back on when the need arises.

Ideas you can use to generate fresh content at the drop of a hat—no matter how you’re feeling.

These are time-tested templates that work on two levels…

First, they employ hard-wired psychological triggers to capture your prospect’s attention Second, they provide tremendous value and position you as an authority figure

So if you need content ideas—and who doesn’t—dive in and start using these ideas to “chef up” something beautiful in your business!

According to a 2015 article in the medical journal, Digestion, 86 percent of people who think they’re gluten sensitive actually aren’t.

This won’t stop the “gluten-free” product market from being worth 7+ billion dollars by 2020, though.

What gives? Why are people spending so much money on products they probably don’t need?

Easy…

It’s because they’re scared.

Recently, the alternative health community has jumped on gluten for supposedly causing digestive problems, weight gain, low energy levels, etc.

Whether or not this is true, the mere suggestion of these negative side-effects has turned gluten-free food into a multi-billion dollar industry!

So, use this insight to your advantage when building a network marketing business!

People want to know what to avoid.

Let them know what they shouldn’t do, and they’ll flock to your content.

Sample headlines:

The #1 thing you must avoid if you want to make money with your blog 4 foods you always need to avoid—or risk gaining unsightly weight!

Some marketers say the brain can’t process “negative” sentences; ones with words like “not,” “no,” and “none.”

For example: if you tell someone, “don’t think of elephants,” guess what he or she is thinking about?

Elephants.

This might be why telling people what to do, instead of what not to do, is so commonly used.

What’s important here is really getting into the head of your prospects.

Generally, you’ll want to focus on the “big 3” benefit categories:

Saving time, Making money, and Having fun

If your benefit doesn’t fit into any of these, you might want to re-think it.

To know exactly what tips your readers might need, just ask them in your next e-mail or at the end of a blog post or video!

Sample headlines:

The fastest way to get 6-pack abs for your spring vacation 5 online marketing tools that will explode your sales

Case studies are great ─especially when building a network marketing business─ because there are so many you can easily discover online…

And they require practically NO experience or creativity to write!

All you’ve got to do is find an individual or organization whose experience is useful or interesting, tell their story, and demonstrate the valuable lesson of the story.

That’s it!

To find a good case study, just use Google to find people who’re already where your prospects want to be.

So, let’s say I wanted to write for martial artists, I’d might search for “martial arts masters.”

Easy, right?

Sample headlines:

How Tim Erway made his first million online The Mr. Peanut school of Facebook advertising

Now, it’s important to make one distinction…

Most think you need to be some hyper-successful “big shot” to write about your experiences.

Not true.

In reality, it works the other way around.

People BECOME big shots by writing about their experiences!

You’re already where a lot of people want to be.

Seriously.

If you’re reading this post you already have a significant amount of clarity regarding how to generate leads and customers online.

That’s huge.

So don’t stress about not being “there” yet. Your audience will learn a TON simply by following your journey. There’s absolutely no need to make anything up to sounds impressive or overthink this process.

Just talk, and people will listen—and move that much closer to buying from you!

Sample headlines:

A business breakthrough I had while walking my dog You won’t believe this insert marketing tactic secret I discovered today!

Sometimes, readers want to relax a little and get information in bite-sized chunks.

Not every blog post has to be an essay!

There’s a reason “listicles” go viral more often than any other kind of content.

Besides, don’t we all like lists?

After all, there’s a reason you’re reading this list post right now, right?

You can turn any post type mentioned above or below into a list post.

You can list benefits, things to avoid, case studies…literally anything works.

Sample headlines:

27 places to go on your next vacation 12 ideas for generating fresh content your readers will absolutely love

See what I did there? ;-)

In a way, the quote post is a “remix” of the list post…

Only instead of doing all the hard work yourself, you can basically “swipe” insightful thoughts from well-known folks.

The advantage is this…

People take ideas and concepts much more seriously when they’re coming from recognizable names.

The second advantage is that this doesn’t require a huge creative burden…

Just “google” a few memorable quotes on a given topic, collect ’em up, and post!

That’s it!

You’ve got shareable content in just a few minutes.

The third advantage is that you can easily match the quotes you find with your call to action, priming your readers to agree with your conclusions—using the authority and “celebrity” of recognized thought leaders.

Sample headlines:

10 things billionaires said about online marketing 15 quotes from the greatest salesmen in history

I don’t have to say you’ve got to intimately know your audience’s pains and offer solutions to them.

You already know that.

What you might forget is that the connection between reader and writer is a relationship.

Those clicks and conversions aren’t just numbers—they’re people.

And when you share yourself with them, they know and trust you a little better…

Even if you just rant about something that made you upset or excited.

After all, emotions are what make people buy, not logic. When building a network marketing business, you’re most likely to encounter a few bumps on the road that will rattle all sorts of emotions…

Sample headlines:

Why Shark Tank is the greatest thing…like…ever! Why I’m sick and tired of people who chase “shiny objects”

Remember the “…For Dummies” book series?

With 200 million books in print and over 2,700 titles, we definitely know “how-to” is popular!

Essentially, all you have to do is take something people want to know and tell them how to do it, step-by-step, in plain English.

Voilà!

All you have to do is find 5 previously-written posts and mix-and-match your favorite tips and tricks.

So don’t be shy about taking a page from the For Dummies books…

A how-to guide is the simplest way to provide value, and always a strong idea if you’re not sure what to write.

Sample headlines:

How to light a room on fire with your infrared pointer How to eat all the dessert you want and still lose weight

People love secrets.

There’s just something delightful and ‘tingly’ about learning a juicy one, right?

Well, it’s not just you and me who feel this way—your readers think so, too!

Always remember:

What you already know—and take for granted—may be a HUGE revelation to your list.

I mean, they wouldn’t have signed up if they didn’t believe you know a few things they don’t, mmkay?

Just look back over your piles of notes. Seriously, how many webinars have you attended?

Believe you me, you’ve learned plenty of tantalizing insights that are going to be brand spankin’ new to your readers!

Sample headlines:

Ray Higdon’s secret to a “super-couple” marriage Seven “hush-hush” traffic secrets of 8-figure earners revealed!

In the “olden days”—think cavemen and bears—knowing the dangers around you was imperative to survival.

That’s why, to this day, we’re so intrigued by the idea of danger.

Sounds funny, I know.

But there’s a reason so many blockbusters are in the horror, action, and thriller genres.

It’s hardwired in our genes.

So give your readers what they want.

Warn them about a danger (real or imagined) and watch your views and shares blow up like crazy.

Sample headlines:

Is your child safe from his or her school teacher? 10 warning signs that show you chose the wrong blog topic

Your following trusts you to guide them as an authority.

At the same time, many of them want to be where you are—and appreciate you sharing experience and knowledge.

This is especially true if you write about online entrepreneurship and building a network marketing business.

If you’re already generating leads or making money, you know things most people don’t…

And that includes trying new goods and services your list doesn’t know about.

Of course, you can use this in any industry.

If you run a fitness blog, for instance, you can post a Shakeology or Beachbody review and let people know about your experience of the product.

A lot of people don’t have the time, energy, or money to go out and try everything that’s on the market for themselves.

They’ll really appreciate you sharing what works.

Sample headlines:

My review of the world’s best chef knife What you need to know about the Market Samurai keyword tool

It bears repeating—not everyone has the knowledge and experience you do (even if you’re new).

Just by reading our posts here on this blog, you’ve already got a “leg up” on most folks—especially when it comes to what does and does not make money online.

So share the everything new you learn with your audience.

It’ll be current, relevant, and engage your readers like “gang busters!”

The news doesn’t have to be from your specific industry, by the way—if you learn something juicy, share it!

It’s easy to “twist” current events into content—just add a perspective that’s fun or useful to your audience and you’re good to go.

Sample headlines:

Stephen Curry’s jersey selling for 800+$! Here’s 3 selling secrets can you learn from rabid fandom. Leadership lessons from Donald Trump’s/Bernie Sander’s last speech “Ingredient X”: a pinch of this makes it all come together

You don’t have to be a world-class chef to prepare fantastic content for your audience.

Use these templates and you’re sure to serve your audience a delicious treat they’ll enjoy!

Just remember…

Although everyone who’s anyone uses these exact ideas, your creativity is the secret ingredient that makes it all come together.

So don’t be afraid to let your personality shine through in your content.

Now, let’s talk big picture…

What’s the ultimate point of creating awesome content?

Why are you spending all this time and effort toiling away over a hot keyboard?

What’s your #1 goal with each and every piece of content you create?

Allow me to give you a hint…

You want people to come through the door, have a seat, take a look at your menu, realize you’ve got a special “something,” and immediately commit to ordering drinks and hors d’oeuvres…

Right?

You don’t want them to just glace over the menu, turn their noses up, and walk down the street to the next dining establishment.

So basically…

You want—and need—to convert your readers into subscribers!

This is, of course, how you get paid from the hard work of “cheffing up” your content.

And the single, most effective technique to convert readers into subscribers is through serving your prospects a compelling “free report,” “bribe,” or what we call a “lead magnet.”

So to make sure you’ve properly “set your tables” and prepared a welcoming atmosphere…

“Iron Chef” Tim Erway (and founder of Elite Marketing Pro), put together an exclusive free report that reveals how to quickly create lead magnets that effortlessly convert your audience into subscribers.

Click here and get started with the 7-Step Lead Magnet Quick-Start Guide today!

This is the EXACT technique we use to average 401 leads a day.

The best part is this method is totally hands-free…

You just set it up and go away, and your list grows all by itself.

It’s kind of like running a restaurant where the food prepares and serves itself!

Click here and get started with the 7-Step Lead Magnet Quick-Start Guide today!

Until next time,

Andrew Draughon Director of Content Elite Marketing Pro

FREE DOWNLOAD Discover How To Quickly Crank Out “Lead Magnets” that Turn Your Website Traffic Into Ready-to-Buy Leads GET YOUR QUICK START GUIDE NOW… CLICK HERE FOR INSTANT ACCESS

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