#i have about 1000 words so far so probably about halfway done?

[hello-eeveev]

hey remember how i said i wasn't going to write this out properly?

haha anyway :)

Instead of a reply in his mind, Caleb heard the familiar arcane whoosh of teleportation a dozen or so feet away. There, a little further into the Grove, facing the temple, was the familiar form of Archivist Seth Domade. Seth spun around, eyes wide and searching before they locked onto Caleb. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words seemed to get stuck. He took one step forward, then another, and then he was sprinting. His disguise melted away, and then it was Essek barrelling down the path and into Caleb's arms.

[the-truest-sentence-i-know]

The Irresistible Force Paradox - Chapter Four

Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Characters: Skye (Daisy Johnson) x Grant Ward (Skyeward)

Rating: T

Summary: Skye’s feelings about Ward are complicated. Ward’s feelings for Skye are very simple. Immovable object meet unstoppable force. Set somewhere in the first half of Season Two.

Word Count: 2k | 4/5

ao3 || ff.net || wattpad

Ward is already there when Skye arrives. He stands up from the bed and Skye closes the door behind her. They’re both frozen in place for a moment, Skye with her hands braced behind her on the door, Ward leaning forward slightly like he’s only just holding himself back.

Skye takes one step toward him and then Ward has cut through the distance between them in an instant. He takes her face in both hands, gently, and then he’s kissing her. There’s no grace to it – and a lot of teeth – and Skye pulls him closer by his belt loops.

“I was worried,” Ward manages to get out between kisses. “You might be mad at me.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I should be, but I’m not.”

He pulls back for a moment, to see her face, and she takes that opportunity to step back because she asked him here so they could talk about this, not just to fuck.

“I knew you wouldn’t actually do it,” she says. “That’s why I’m not mad at you.”

“But you should be?” he asks.

Skye runs a hand through her hair. “Look, this is 1000% a bad idea, and it could – and probably will – end very badly for both of us. And I’m not even sure what this is yet. But I can’t stop thinking about it, about you, about what you said.” She takes a breath. “That we have a shot.”

He nods, slowly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says. “And I think we should take it.”

Ward’s smile is cautious at first but blooms into something that maybe does make Skye feel something. He’s still smiling when she kisses him and something about that has Skye smiling too. They’ve never kissed like this. It’s always been at a vulnerable moment or a we’re-about-to-die moment or an I’m-playing-you-because-I-know-you’re-Hydra moment. But now they can kiss the way regular people who like each other kiss – happily.

Skye jumps up and wraps her legs around his waist. He holds her tight, one hand under her ass, and he’s kissing her and he’s smiling and for once it really is like the world outside doesn’t exist. It’s just them.

He walks over to the bed, and she drops onto it on her back. She bounces twice on the mattress and lets out an honest-to-god giggle. And Ward laughs and pulls off his shirt and climbs on top of her and it’s the lightest Skye has felt in ages.

They let themselves be goofy and embarrassing – a whole different type of vulnerability.

Ward fumbles with Skye’s bra clasp and she looks at him with a straight face, undoes it herself, and says, “You seem nervous, Agent Ward.”

He watches her toss it aside and says, “I’m just calling to mind my training,” before latching his lips to the newly-exposed skin.

“Training?” She grins. “Damn, I missed some fun times at the SHIELD Academy, huh?”

And when Skye lets out a small fart about halfway through and Ward just about dies laughing and she threatens to kill him if he doesn’t shut up right now, she doesn’t mean it. Not even a little bit.

Because Ward has a small freckle on his left collar bone and he smiles like the wholesome boy-next-door football player from every teen rom-com, and he knows more about her and her past than any guy she’s even been with and he still looks at her like she’s everything he’s ever wanted. Even though he knows she’s not quite there yet.

Yet.

Because if she thinks about it, really digs down and is honest with herself, she’s been falling for him for months. Basically, since she met him. And sure, he fell faster and harder, but she really isn’t that far behind. She’s just better at hiding. Or, needs to hide it more.

So when the doubts come, after they’re done, the disapproving faces in her mind, she curls up against Ward and pushes everything else away. He wraps his arm around her pulls her closer and she focuses on his breathing. The steady sound and feeling as his chest moves, up and down. His heartbeat, too, slows to a steady rhythm.

And he doesn’t say anything. He just holds her and waits for her to break the silence.

But she doesn’t really want to. This silence between them is so comfortable, she can’t imagine interrupting it.

So, for the second time, Skye falls asleep in bed with Ward.

In the days and weeks that follow, Skye learns to balance things. The giddiness of sneaking out like a teenager to meet up with Ward. The inevitable guilt that comes unexpectedly when she interacts with anyone on the team, but especially Fitzsimmons.

She finds it surprisingly easy to lie to everyone and isn’t sure how she feels about that. She and Hunter are shooting at the range, and he tells her he’s glad she has more self-control than he does because he can – apparently – never resist doing something so scandalous. She asks him if he considers getting back together with an ex-wife scandalous and he shuts up immediately.

Ward smiles more than Skye has ever seen. He tells her stories from his SHIELD training and past missions. She learns that he can be sweet – romantic, even. That doesn’t mean that it’s always perfect and wonderful. They both have issues and while Skye knows he would never hurt her, she doesn’t exactly trust him either.

Skye is careful when she goes out. If she takes a car, she’ll usually park it somewhere and take a bus, and then cut through a crowded area and then take another bus or a taxi, both on the way there and back – a looping and disconcerting route to make sure she isn’t followed. She tells herself it’s mostly so no one from the team finds her, or to make sure anyone who might be watching Ward doesn’t follow her back to the base, but it’s really for Ward.

As much as he claims not to want to hurt anyone in SHIELD, or take SHIELD down anymore, knowledge of the new base might be too good to pass up. And Coulson was the one who had Ward put into the custody of his brother, which Skye doesn’t think he has quite forgiven him for.

So they don’t talk about the present, for obvious reasons, or the recent past. Skye doesn’t ask what Ward is up to and he doesn’t ask her either. It’s easier this way; they don’t have to lie to each other.

One morning, Skye is humming to herself in the kitchen of the base, and she turns around to find Simons standing in the doorway with a slight smile on her face.

“What?” Skye asks.

Simmons shrugged. “You’ve been in a very good mood lately.”

“Is that a crime?” Skye asks with a grin. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” She comes in and sits at the table. “It’s nice to see you happy.”

Skye pours them both a coffee and sits across from Simmons. “It’s weird, with everything going on, but I am happy.”

“It is nice to live within four walls that just stay securely on the ground.”

“Yeah.” Skye suddenly sees that containment pod fall from the Bus again while Ward just stands there – she’s seen the footage often enough – and then Fitz’s reaction to Ward in the vault. She almost drops her mug.

“Skye?” Simmons asks. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she says, pulling herself back to the present. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Simmons smiles again. “Does your good mood have anything to do with the reason you sneak out all the time?”

“What? No.” She had thought she was being subtle. “And I don’t sneak out, I just go out sometimes. Stable foundations are great and all but they’re a bit constricting.”

Simmons raises her eyebrows but says nothing more about it.

“How’s Fitz doing?” Skye asks.

“Better every day,” Simmons says. “I’m so glad he and Mack became friends. Mack is so much better with him than I am.”

“I’m sure you guys will sync up again.”

Yet another casualty of Ward: Fitzsimmons’s relationship.

They rarely go anywhere public. Skye has her reasons – not wanting to get caught by the team, which Ward knows – and Ward has his – which she does not ask about. But today, he says he has a surprise and tells her to meet him at the local park.

Ward is waiting for her near the entrance of the park when she steps off the bus.

“You look nice,” he says.

“Thanks,” she says. She’s wearing a summery blue dress; she decided that if they’re going out – as much as going to a park is going out – she might as well dress up a bit. “You don’t look bad yourself.”

They’re a regular-looking couple, walking through the park, hand in hand. Ward guides them through some trees into a clearing. In the center, there’s a picnic blanket and a basket.

Skye smiles at him, surprised. “Did you–?”

He grins. “Mm-hm.”

She kisses his cheek and pulls him toward the picnic. He’s packed tiny sandwiches and strawberries and a bottle of sangria. They sprawl out on the blanket, tossing strawberries at each other and laughing through full mouths. Skye starts to get tipsy by her third glass, and they both get a bit handsy with each other. They make out lazily until they knock over the bottle, leaving a big wet spot on the blanket that they try to avoid, laughing at their clumsiness.

“Do you enjoy riding buses?” Ward asks.

“Mm?” Skye hums, feeling warm and sleepy in the sun. She’s laying with her head on his lap, his fingers absentmindedly playing with her hair. She opens her eyes slightly; his tense jaw belies his relaxed demeanour.

“I noticed you always come to the motel on foot, which I thought was weird, since I’m sure SHIELD has at least one vehicle they can spare, so I followed you –”

“What?” Skye is suddenly wide awake, sitting up to look at Ward.

“You were doing the classic manoeuvres to lose anyone following you, switching buses, cutting through stores and malls. You even managed to lose me once you were driving. Why?”

Skye stares at him.

“What? Don’t you trust me?” His mouth is trying to quirk up into a smile like he’s hoping this will turn out to be a misunderstanding or a joke.

Skye blinks. “I –”

His face falls. “You don’t fucking trust me,” he says, quiet and disbelieving.

“I do,” Skye says quickly, moving forward to grab his hands. “I do trust you, with me.”

“But not with them, with the knowledge of where the new SHIELD base is.”

“And I’m clearly right since you tried to follow me there. That doesn’t breed a lot of trust.”

Ward just looks at her.

“Can you blame me? You’ve tried to kill almost all of them,” Skye says. “Yes, I trust you with me, but I know you, you always have something cooking and I don’t want to be used as a tool against SHIELD.”

“When have I ever–”

Skye pulls away. “The drive?” She says it more harshly than she means, and she takes a deep breath. “I know we never talk about what happened between us before, and we don’t have to,” she continues more gently. “But I need you to understand that my trust only goes so far.”

He sighs. “Look, I get it, I do,” he says finally. “I just wish things were different.”

Skye puts a hand on his knee. “Me too. And maybe we can get there, someday.”

He smiles softly and squeezes her hand. The look in his eyes is almost overwhelmingly tender and Skye knows what he’s about to say before he says it.

“I love you,” he says. “You don’t have to say it back,” he adds quickly, at the way her lips tighten and her eyes flit away. “I know you’re not there yet; I just need you to know that I’m in this for the long run.”

When he leans in and kisses her, sweetly and gently, she feels something she doesn’t usually with Ward – gratefulness. His patience and understanding would make him, under different circumstances, pretty much the perfect guy. Under different circumstances, they could live a happy, wonderful life.

Under different circumstances.

[kanerallels]

Donicus Crossover ATLA (PLEASE ADD TOPH PLZ PLZ PLZ) Thank you!!!

It would be my honor-- here goes nothing lol!!!

Pairing: Marcus Lanum/Idony St. Claire

Word count: ??? I'm on mobile rn, I'll update this later. Somewhere in the 1000s

Tags/Warning: G rating (for glaring, at Marcus, from Noah). One minor injury and a little blood

Getting lost in Republic City was no joke. The place was absolutely huge, with a lot of streets and different buildings. It was also decidedly unhelpful when some people in your group (Berlyne, Apen and Noah) wanted to go watch pro-bending, while others (Marcus, Enel and Idony) wanted to find the library. (Chara and Joe were undecided.)

“I could have sworn we should have turned left back there,” Marcus muttered, studying the map he was holding. The whole group had paused on a street corner, and he and Apen were studying the map, trying to figure out where they were. Berlyne and Noah were nearby, mostly making unhelpful comments as Enel and Chara ignored the whole proceedings while excitedly pointing out parts of the city to each other.

As for Idony, she had her arm tucked around Marcus’s, her head tilted up towards the sunlight as she listened to the city. Marcus paused a moment to look away from the map at her, seeing the way the sun glinted off her golden curls and a soft smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

Then he saw Noah shoot him a glare, and hastily redirected his attention to the map, just as Apen shook his head. “No, we were supposed to go straight-- if that’s even where we are. I think we’re on this street.” He jabbed a finger at a different spot on the map.

“Impossible,” Marcus protested. “We passed the candy store on Main Street-- that was where we got off track in the first place because Enel was trying to drag us in there.”

“Yeah, and we went east instead of north.”

“No, we--”

Berlyne let out an exasperated sigh. “You guys have been arguing about this for the past ten minutes. Why don’t we just ask for directions again?”

“We don’t need them!” Marcus said, lifting the map. “I can figure out where we’re going. Now, where did we turn past the police station again?”

“I’m with Berlyne,” Irony said to Marcus’s dismay. “We should just ask how to get there. Enel!”

The copper-haired boy turned from the fire hydrant he and Chara were admiring. “Yeah?”

“Would you and Chara find someone who can give us directions, please?”

“On it!” Enel promptly darted out into the street with Chara on his heels. He’d barely made it two steps when Marcus heard someone shout, “STOP!!”

Chara froze, and Enel, who did not stop, slammed straight into the source, a tan-skinned young man around Marcus’s age. He had a ponytail, although his hair was shaved at the sides, and wore a blue tunic and pants and blue fingerless gloves. At his side he wore a long sword that Marcus recognized from his reading as a jian, and on his back was a strangely triangular-shaped sheath of some kind.

He squinted at Enel. “Oh. Good news, guys, he’s not actually on fire. That’s just his hair.”

“Which is exactly what we told you,” pointed out one of his other two companions. They were both girls around his own age-- one in green robes and armor, her face painted completely white, with red above the eyes and along her lips. The other girl was younger and a little shorter, clad in what looked to be a green jumpsuit of some kind, with a pale yellow overtunic. She was shoeless for some reason, and her bangs hung loose over her eyes, which-- Marcus did a double take-- were filmed over in a similar manner to Idony. Was this girl blind, too?

Shrugging, Berlyne said, “Well, it’s an understandable mistake when it comes to Enel.”

Enel shot her a wounded look as Apen blurted out, “Wait-- are you a Kyoshi warrior?” He was staring at the girl in white makeup, who looked surprised.

“I am,” she said.

“I’ve read about those,” Marcus said, his eyes widening. “Named for the mythical Avatar Kyoshi, who supposedly founded them. You’re made up entirely of women and wield weaponized fans.”

“I heard stories about you growing up,” Apen said, his eyes going glassy as he clearly slipped back to the past. “My si-- uh, people I knew hero worshipped you guys.”

“We’re honored, in that case,” the girl said with a smile. “I’m Suki. This is Sokka of the Water Tribe, and Toph Beifong.”

“Beifong? As in Lao Beifong, the business man?” Apen asked.

Folding her arms, Toph said, “No, as in Toph Beifong, greatest earthbender in the world. Get that in your head, short stuff.”

“Hey!” Apen looked offended as Toph whipped out an arm, pointing directly at Marcus.

“As for you, yes, I’m blind. Stop staring or I’ll throw you in the ocean. I have pretty great range as an earthbender, you know.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Marcus protested, and Sokka chuckled.

“First mistake-- Toph can sense when you’re lying.” Leaning over to Apen, he said, “She really is the best earthbender ever. Don’t tell her I said it, though, it would only go to her head.”

“I can hear you, bozo,” Toph said flatly.

“Oops.”

Swatting Marcus’s shoulder, Idony said, “Marcus! That’s rude! But-- you’re blind, too?”

“‘Too?’” Toph echoed.

“Oh, yeah-- Idony’s blind,” Enel said helpfully. “She’s with Marcus.” He punctuated the “with Marcus” by wiggling his eyebrows aggressively.

Choosing to ignore him, Marcus said, “I didn’t mean to be rude, I was just surprised--”

“Don’t care,” Toph said, waving a hand dismissively, and Noah snorted.

“I might actually be starting to like this earthbender. Here’s a question-- can you actually launch someone into the harbor, and do I have to choose between Enel and Marcus?”

“Noah!” Idony said, irritation flashing across her face. “You’re not launching them anywhere.”

Noah grumbled something under his breath, and Berlyne snickered.

“Better luck next time. You’ll just have to do it yourself.”

“You two are my kind of people,” Toph said with a grin. “Okay-- wanna see something cool?”

“Sure,” Berlyne said, looking intrigued.

Taking a wide, firm stance, Toph took a long deep breath. Then, lifting one of her feet up, she slammed it back down into the pavement at the same time as she jerked her hands upwards. A spire of rock shot up out of the ground at Sokka’s feet, catapulting him into the air. He let out a yelp of horror. “TOPH! NOT AGAIN!!!”

Gasps of shock flew around the ground, but Suki and Toph seemed unbothered. With another earthbending move, Toph brought another spire of rock out of the ground, catching Sokka a few feet from the ground. He let out a grunt. “Ow…”

“You’re fine,” Toph said, waving a hand dismissively. “Nothing’s even broken.”

“True. Maybe warn me next time you shoot me into the air, though?” Sokka suggested, sliding off of the rock formation and onto the ground. “And also please put our city’s streets back the way they were.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Toph grumbled, bringing the rock towers back into the ground. They disappeared seamlessly, and she shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t the Earth Rumble, but still fun.”

“Wait-- did you compete in the Earth Rumble?” Berlyne demanded, and Toph smirked.

“Please, I owned the Earth Rumble. All those pansies went crying home once I was done.”

“Technically also true,” Sokka agreed. “I was there.”

“Tell me everything,” Berlyne demanded, and Marcus released a long suffering sigh.

Looking at Suki, he said, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give us directions? We’re trying to get to the library.”

“Pro-bending,” Apen corrected.

Grinning, Suki said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

The three of them moved to the side as Sokka began to give a play-by-play of the Earth Rumble, with Toph occasionally re-enacting moves. Finally, they were fairly certain they had a route mapped out.

“Okay,” Marcus was saying, “so we turn right here--”

He was cut off halfway through as Toph’s latest earth bending move sent rocks flying in their direction. One cracked into Marcus’s temple, and he crashed to the ground with a yelp of pain.

He heard a shout of concern that was probably Enel’s, a snort of amusement that was definitely Noah, and then Idony called his name.

“Marcus!”

She was by his side seconds later, kneeling next to him. “Are you okay?” she asked, a gentle hand touching the side of his face.

His eyes lingering on her face, Marcus felt his heart rate pick up slightly. “I’m, uh, better now,” he managed. “Much better.”

A smile crossed Idony’s face. “You must have been hit hard to be flirting in front of my brother.” Leaning down, she planted a kiss on his forehead, and if Marcus hadn’t been seeing stars before, he was now. “That always makes it better,” she told him.

“Definitely,” Marcus agreed.

He heard a strangled noise from above them, and glanced up to see Apen pointedly looking away from him. “Uh, you okay?” he asked, a slight grin crossing his face.

“You’re way too entertained by this, aren’t you?” Marcus said with exasperation.

“Maybe a little.”

As Apen and Idony helped Marcus to his feet, Sokka came hurrying over. “Ooh, that looks like a nasty cut,” he said, and Marcus lifted a hand to his temple, feeling blood. “Tell ya what, we’ll have my sister Katara look at it. She’s an expert healer with her water bending-- DEFINITELY don’t tell her I said that.”

“Wait,” Apen said, his eyes growing even wider. “Your sister is KATARA???”

"The famous healer?" Marcus said, impressed.

Letting out a groan, Toph said, "If they start swooning over someone every five minutes, it's gonna be a long day."

"And they don't even know that Katara's boyfriend is the Avatar," Sokka observed.

"He's WHAT???" Apen gaped at them.

"Yup. Swooning," Toph said with a sigh. Shooting Marcus and Idony-- who was still standing very close to him-- a look, she added, "And that's not even the only kind of swooning around her."

Noah looked like he wanted to gag, and Marcus almost protested. But then Idony slipped her hand into his, and. Well. Toph wasn't exactly far off. And he definitely didn't mind.

[jumpship90]

touch prompts: 11 and/or 35? :)

35 kissing their bruises and scars

I’ve mentioned before about Jaq having a climbing accident and the tables turning so that Phineas has to rescue them for once – this prompt answer is probably going to end up being the intro to that fic if I get around to writing it, so thank you for getting me thinking about it again! - 1000 words, so more under the cut

Phineas sipped gingerly at his coffee. It was something of an effort not to spill it all over the rather fascinating article he was reading regarding cellular regeneration, what with Jaq shuffling about behind him. Breakfast in bed was proving a little difficult this morning as his partner’s excitement at the tossball game they were watching got the better of them.

“Pass – pass, you’ve got the twelfth back out wide!” they barked, an arm slipping free from his waist to gesture at the aetherwave screen situated opposite the bed. Phineas gave an irritable grunt as their movements jostled him where he sat leant against their chest. Jaq didn’t appear to notice.

“Oh come on! That was clearly offside! He’s halfway into the Friday zone!”

They slapped the mattress in frustration, jolting him again. Phineas sighed and squinted at the screen from over the top of the pages of the journal. ‘Clearly’ wasn’t quite the word he would have used to describe precisely what was occurring between an indeterminate number of players all swarming around a ball, but apparently it meant something to Jaq who was muttering about biased refereeing and absentmindedly tapping their fingers against his thigh in agitation.

As play resumed, Phineas went back to concentrating on his reading and doing his best to ignore Jaq’s fidgeting. For someone who could keep their cool in a shootout, they did get so ridiculously tense over a game. He’d done his best to wrap his head around the rules in order to engage with this particular passion of theirs, unfortunately, he’d never quite managed to get as swept up in it all as they did. Instead, he contented himself with enjoying sharing space with them whilst they watched the games.

Well, usually he enjoyed it.

“Jaq!” he admonished as a goal caused them to punch the air with a whoop, sloshing coffee onto the bedsheets.

“Sorry! Sorry, I’ll make you another,” they offered, arms coming around his middle in a conciliatory hug as the screen cut to shots of the cheering crowd. They kissed his hair and Phineas settled back against their chest.

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, taking a quick swig and downing the rest of the contents of the mug before he was at risk of losing it. There were only a few minutes left of the game and then he might actually be able to read in peace. A few minutes left until Jaq would rise and begin dressing. He swallowed bitter disappointment with the coffee dregs.

“No, really, it’s my fault,” Jaq said and began shuffling out from behind him. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Phineas discarded the journal atop the mattress.

“You can stay right here.” He planted his hands atop their tanned thighs where they lay either side of him.

Jaq immediately ceased their attempt to scramble off the mattress and when he turned awkwardly to glance up at them, they were wearing a quizzical expression, their focus having entirely shifted from the game that had been so intently holding their focus moments before.

“Since when are you ok with starting a day on half a cup of coffee?” they asked, a confused smile lighting up their face. When he didn’t immediately respond with his usual bantering, Jaq slipped a small, calloused hand over his own, their smile softening.

“This is because I’m leaving later, right?”

Phineas gave a quiet humph of consternation at being caught out.

“It's because I have had quite enough of being thrown about like a sack of tobaccorn in my own bed,” he lied.

Jaq didn’t call him on it, though he could see the scepticism in their eyes. They only ran a thumb over the ring about his finger and he fought the urge to grip their hand tight and hang onto them. It was a silly impulse, this desire to keep them here with him, he knew. They were coming back. They always came back. After all, that was precisely what the rings symbolised. That he was theirs and they were his and that nothing would separate them. Those were the promises they had both made to each other.

He reached up to run a thumb over the familiar scar that cut a shallow white blaze across their chin. They had many scars, most small and faded to pale ghosts that served as a reminder of all they had done. Jaq was resilient - a survivor - he reminded himself. Only, there had been too many years alone, too many nights spent grappling with the uncertainty of whether his enforced isolation would ever end for him to truly feel comfortable with them going. There was always that gnawing fear that he might not see them again.

“You know, you never have told me how you got this one,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the scar, seeking a distraction in their embrace. “Was it terribly heroic?”

Jaq snorted. “Fell out a tree.”

His gut gave an uncomfortable twist at that. “You know, that really isn’t a very reassuring thing to hear before you leave on a climbing trip.”

The smirk they gave him was far more teasing than Phineas felt the situation really warranted.

“I was eight, Phin. I like to think I’ve gotten a bit better at it since then.”

He hummed quietly, suddenly despondent. Despite the fact that he would be remaining in the familiar surroundings of the Hope, Jaq’s leaving always left him with an odd sense of homesickness that his work could only distract him from but never fully shake.

“Well if you really must go and spend your time scrambling around some rock like a skinny primal then don’t let me stop you,” he grumbled.

Jaq gave a resigned sigh that ruffled his hair.

“I’ll be fine, Phin.” They kissed his temple and Phineas stroked the arm wrapped about his waist. “I’ll be back before you can even miss me.”

[jiminieloved]

It's great that people would be okay with whatever their bond is but i honestly don't think i would :/ i've thought about it a few times and as lgbt i know i would be very disappointed of them doing things that very ""gay"" just for giggles and shit. and yes, they do know what they're doing. whether is real or not, they know exactly what it looks like. all of bts do. and this is something that's just in my head. jin said once somewhere "not like lovers" or something like when one of the others +

hugged him from the back in a photoshoot; so they know what their actions may come across. im sorry and maybe im way too strict with stuff like that, it's just that as a lesbian i cant come out to my family and lgbt people die and get beaten everyday around the world for the same things they could be laughing/playing around with. i dont think i would HATE them but i for sure wouldnt take them seriously anymore, not as a couple and i would probably lose a bit of respect for them individually. that aside, i think the whole "support" them thing it's actually meant romantically. like, if they're not a couple then there's nothing to support. you just bias them individually. i wanted to say also that i had wandered a little into the kpop world and the fetishization made me go back the way i came in the blink of an eye. i hate when girl members do this, too. i know there's a fair amount of kpop boys and girls who are lgbt, but there's also a lot of str8s who act like being gay is for show.

Okay this is going to be a bit of a long one because it’s a complicated subject and I don’t want to word something incorrectly. 

I understand your gut reaction completely, but I think there’s a layer to my statement you might not have understood, because it’s something I’m always a bit vague about/hesitant to speak on for fear of backlash, so I’m probably at fault for this misunderstanding. I’m just going to say how I feel about Jikook, no euphemisms or beating around the bush. 

A) Yes, fanservice culture is fetishization and I agree with your reservations about it completely. I spoke on my feelings about it here.

B) I think it’s pretty undeniable that Jimin and Jungkook have an extremely intimate relationship. It’s not really up for debate. 

A moment like this doesn’t happen without an immense amount of established physical and emotional intimacy. This isn’t phony. Jungkook wouldn’t have done this in front of thousands of people (knowing it was being recorded by hundreds for millions to see) if he wasn’t already in a space with Jimin where this was an acceptable form of comfort and affection. With a few exceptions, I think most of us can agree that this isn’t regular behavior between friends, or even family. It’s something (typically) reserved for lovers. It’s not my place to say what they are to each other, but this does not fall under normal standards for Korean skinship. 

So with all this being said, I think that it’s pretty clear that what we’re supporting is ‘real’, though I hate to use the term because it implies that other relationships between members aren’t real or genuine, which is not what I mean.  What I mean is that we chose to support Jikook because we saw REAL interactions there that don’t fall in line with typical ‘friend’ behavior, and we want to support this. 

When I say that if Jikook end up dating other people, we should support them anyway, it’s not because I don’t think what they have is special or tangible or ‘real’ in my eyes. But rather because they’re in a really complicated situation with a 1000 more variables in their relationship than even normal, non celebrity people have to deal with. Whether they’re just extremely intimate friends or more, they aren’t faking this for fanservice. It’s genuine interaction. As you said yourself, it’s one of the things that makes BTS stand out from your regular Kpop group. They don’t fake shit for fanservice, they embellish what’s already there. 

And I’m sorry, but the example I showed above may have started as fanservice, but it evolved into something beyond fanservice halfway through. 

My point about them having variables is that though clearly their relationship is extremely special and unique and full of love, they themselves are in a tough situation. You mention being a lesbian and not being able to come out, and how people around the world are attacked and murdered for being gay, and fanservice feels like a mockery to you. But remember- they live in this same harsh world we do. They live in South Korea, where being gay is still very much a taboo topic and by no means accepted by the general public. Gay marriage is not legal for them, there’s been almost no REAL representation in the media until extremely recently, and this is the culture they grew up in. Knowing what we know about their relationship, they’re in the same boat as you. They, if they are gay, can’t come out- they’re South Korea’s pride- they represent the entire country internationally. The amount of pressure on their shoulders is unimaginable. They are expected to be perfect, by Korea’s standards. Being gay does not fall within those standards. Remember a few months ago when Jungkook got into a minor fender bender? Somehow it became a national scandal. A minor mishap that a majority of the human population will go through at some point in their lives was blown up into a huge event and the public ripped him to shreds for it, trying to unearth every little detail and form it into a scandal. Now imagine if it was about their sexualities. 

I think you know just as well as I do that Jungkook and Jimin’s interactions aren’t laughing and playing around with LGBT culture. There’s certainly problematic aspects to idol culture and it’s fetishization of LGBT people, but what they show us, I perceive as genuine. Whether or not they other come out as anything, or let us in on their private lives during this time period in retrospect, I think we can trust them to not have disrespected us in such a thoughtless way. Jungkook especially has proven to be a huge supporter of LGBT culture and artists. I don’t think he takes our lives as a joke.

If they end up dating other people, it could be for a multitude of reasons. Maybe they were always just extremely intimate friends, and had an agreement they could date whoever they wanted. Maybe they were friends with benefits, and again, agreed to date freely outside of this. Maybe they are in a defined relationship, and won’t date other people unless they break up. Maybe they fulfill all the actions of a defined relationship without the label, and things are uncertain between the pair even now. There’s sooo many variables and soo many ways the future could turn out. It’s impossible to know from the outside looking in.

Either way, my extremely long-winded point is that regardless of the future, Jungkook and Jimin’s actions aren’t here to make a mockery of LGBT people and queerbait. They don’t do that, and I’d like to believe they respect us as fans more than that. The way they act is genuine; there’s no faking the amount of intimacy and love they’ve shown towards each other for the camera to the extent that they have, for the amount of time that they have. 

If they date other people in the future, it doesn’t detract from the depth and meaning behind their relationship now, no matter the label. 

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading. 

[kayteewritessteve]

DT - Just Drunk 3/3

Description: It’s finally your first date night with Steve, and everything starts out great. But then things start to take a drastic turn for the worst, and you are both left helplessly watching as the night crashes and burns before your very eyes. Whoever said that having best friends was a good thing, clearly lied to all of us... Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 11,470 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG. Warnings: Curse words. Awkward moments. Shitty friends.

Requested: Nah, this is just the third and final part to this mini series.

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

It’s finally here!! The final part of Drunk Twitter! And my entry to @justkending milestone celebration!! My prompt will be in bold and was: “Ever wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?” “Cause I’m getting that feeling right now.” CONGRATS TO YOU, LOVELY, ON YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE! Here’s to many, many more followers to come for you! You deserve the whole damn world. Oh! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL!! I hope you had a wonderful day, locked in your house lol ❤️❤️❤️

That was hands down the worst date that either you, or Steve, had ever been on, in your entire separate lives. And that was saying a lot, considering Steve was just over 100 years old, and you weren’t exactly a spry young chicken yourself. At least when it came to the dating world, you weren’t.

So why, exactly, was this date such a colossal disaster, you ask? Oh, well, let us show you it in its entirety, from start to finish. Then you’ll understand exactly why, and when, it all went to hell in a handbag.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Tonight’s the night. After 5 days of intense mood swings, calling your friends crying and begging for pep talks, hardly getting any tasks done at work, issues with sleeping, and a few very large glasses of wine—read, just the straight bottle. No glasses were used, because we aren’t about that life here— It’s finally Friday night AKA your date night with Steve. And—oh fuck, nope, no, nu uh. You can’t do this. You just can’t!

You flop down onto the ridiculous pile of clothes that is now your bedroom floor and try to bury yourself within it. You can’t do this. You really can’t. So instead, you will just burrow into these clothes and they will become your home now. Lindsey and Tyler can drop off food once a week to sustain you, and if you get an extension cord, you could totally rig up your laptop in here.

Note to self: regardless of if you stay buried in these clothes or not, you really do need to get an extension cord. They are honestly useful as fuck.

But back to the main issue at hand here, which was agreeing to this ridiculous date. That was a horrible idea! Honestly, what were you even thinking?! You know you don’t take stress well, that you overthink and panic over even the smallest of upsets, but shit—wait, where was I going with this again? OH! Right! Who do you even think you are? Going on a damn date with thee Steve Rogers! The most gentlemanly, gentleman that ever gentlemaned! Shit!

And then there is you, a washed up journalist with hair that never cooperates, pores the size of Russia, and—you swear that—you walk with a limp, because you are positive that one leg is just slightly shorter than the other. You swear it! On your damn life!

Okay, so maaaaaybe you are overreaching here just a tad, again. But the point still stands. You aren’t special, or a superhero, or ya know, God's gift to the world. You are just you. Y/N Y/L/N. So how is it that you scored a date with thee sweetest, most down to earth, most handsome guy out there? Damn. Maybe good Karma really is a thing?—No, no. You shake your head, vehemently. Because in that case, you would have ended up getting shit on by a bird or something, instead of going on a date with Steve..

Alright, it’s decided. You aren’t going on this date. You don’t deserve to go on this date. You’ll just pick up your phone and call—no! Text! Facing him...err, ya know, what your voice? Shit, doesn’t matter, what does though is the fact that you having to cancel over the phone would just be way too hard, and far too heartbreaking. A text is super impersonal, but much easier. And—hey! Don’t judge us! We never claimed to be courageous! We are basically the damn cowardly lion in human form over here. So come to terms with that. Own it. It’s a part of who we are now.

You groan, moving your arms around languidly over the insane pile of clothes beneath you, in search of your cellular communication device. The movement reminds you of making snow angels as a kid, so just for good measure you move your legs as well, and allow the random procrastinating train of thought to continue on for a few more minutes. Hoping it will calm your nerves even a little.

It obviously doesn’t, but it does cause you to giggle, and locate your phone, so that’s a win, you guess. You pick the phone up and bring it to above your face, your eyes instantly widening when you realize the time. 5:46pm. Shit! Steve is supposed to be here at 6! There is no way you can text and cancel now! You’re willing to bet he’ll be here at exactly 6, and he is probably driving as we speak, therefore he won’t even get your text till he is outside your apartment. And shit, cancelling at this point is just fucking mean. You have to go on this date now, you have no choice.

You groan loudly again as you barrel roll off the pile of clothes and awkwardly climb to your feet, heading over to the mirror to take a second look at the 15th outfit you’ve tried on tonight. But before you can give it a thorough re-looking over, your phone rings abruptly and you jump, almost chucking it across the room. Man, you are clearly far too jumpy tonight, and you always have this weird desperate need to involuntarily destroy your phone. Like what even is that? Your phone continues to ring, and you quickly answer it, not even checking who is calling. “H-hello?”

“Breathe. What are you wearing?”

Lindsey, it’s Lindsey. You glance down, “dark wash jeans, a black sheer blouse, and my black ankle boot heels.” You freeze, realization and then irrational fear taking hold, as you stare back at yourself in the mirror. “Oh shit, do you think I’m too underdressed? Oh crap! I am, aren’t I? I should have worn a dress! He’s from the damn 30’s! Oh fu—“

“Woman!” Lindsey cuts you off, “just breathe, babe, damn. You are overthinking this whole thing way too much. Your outfit is perfect, I bet you look like a freaking fox right now, and I know for a fact you will blow Steve away. So just simmer your shit a little, okay?”

You nod slowly to your reflection, realizing Lindsey can’t see the action you quickly mumble. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be okay, I look fine, I’m fine. I’m breathing now. Promise.”

“Very convincing,” Lindsey snarks and you can damn near hear her rolling her eyes at you.

You are about to snark back at her, but a few light knocks on your door halt the words in your throat. Shiiiiit! He’s here!

“Fuck! Linds!” You hiss. “He’s here! What do I do?!”

“Jesus,” she sighs, exasperated, “you get off the phone and answer the door! And then have a wonderful fucking night. It’s that simple.”

“Okay. Okay. You’re right, again, it sounds simple enough. I got this.” Yet the words don’t sound convincing at all. At least not to your ears.

“You do,” she reaffirms. “Now repeat after me, I look great. I will rock this damn date. I will blow him away with my looks and my interesting and funny conversation topics. Because I got this shit on lock.”

“Yes, I second everything you just said. But I have to go! Bye!” You pulled the phone from your ear and are just about to hang up, when you hear.

“Wait!!” Ring from the phone's speaker, and you halt from hanging up, putting the phone back to your ear.

“Yes?” You question in a rushed manner, needing to get off the phone so you can answer the door and not leave Steve Rogers standing idly in your hallway for all your neighbours to see.

“Call me as soon as the date ends!! Or there will be hell to pay!” She warns. “I want all the dirty details, so don’t forget a damn thing! And most of all, have fuuuuun!” She singsongs the last part.

“Will do! Bye!” You hang up quickly before she can say anything else. Was that rude? Probably. Do you care at the moment? Not in the slightest. You’ll make it up to her later.

You rush from your room, closing the door behind you so he can’t catch even a small glimpse of the chaos that has become your bedroom floor. Then you make your way to your front door, pulling on your heel booties and grabbing your jacket from the back of your dining room chair before pulling it on as well. With one last look at yourself in your entryway mirror, you pull open your door and your heart damn near leaps from your chest at just the sight of him alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

Finding her address took way less time than he thought it would, and once he parks he realizes just how early he is. He couldn’t go up yet, could he? No, no, arriving too early is ‘bad form’, as Sam had put it, and ‘makes you look too eager,’ as Bucky had added. Both men were not being overly helpful, at all. But then Nat had piped up, and said to ignore both guys, and the true reason you don’t want to show up too early is because she probably won’t be ready, and it’s never good to rush a woman’s pre-date prepping process. So after Nat’s words of wisdom replay in his mind, he decides to wait it out, and head up closer to 6. Not wanting to rush you in any way, shape, or form.

But the second the clock clicks to 5:55, he is out of the car and halfway to your apartment's front door. He is just about to buzz your number, when another resident exits the door and sees him standing there. The residents eyes widen comically upon realization that Captain America is currently standing outside their apartment, and with a few stuttered words of praise and thanks, the resident steps aside, still holding the door, and allows Steve access to the apartments lobby.

With a sincere and rushed ‘Thank you’, Steve makes his way into the building and up to the 4rd floor to your apartment door. He glances down at his watch and sees that it’s now 5:59, right on time, he thinks. He quickly pats down his clothes, trying to smooth them out and eradicate the wrinkles from sitting in the car for so long. And just as the clock ticks over to 6:00, he takes a deep breath, and raises his hand, knocking loudly on the fake wood door.

His super soldier ears pick up the shuffled sounds of movement and the murmur of a soft voice through the door. Though he can’t make out the words, and yes, if he focused himself he probably could, but your privacy is still important to him. Even though he’s sort of taken it away from you once or twice in the past. Be it by looking at Tony’s file on you, or constantly creeping your social media accounts. Granted, social media is you putting it out there to the world, so it’s not exactly a breach of privacy. But yet, it still made Steve feel weird and creepy for doing it, so that sort of counts, at least in his mind it does—

The door abruptly opening cuts off Steve’s train of thought, and then the sight now before him causes his mind to just blank. With no hopes in it recovering anytime soon, because you are breathtaking. More beautiful than the last time he saw you, and that’s saying something because he was almost rendered speechless the first time. And this time, he is.

How the hell is he going to make it through this night, if he can’t even say a word from just the sight of you, alone?! Oh hell, he’s doomed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

A silent moment goes by, neither one of you uttering so much as a syllable. Just both standing there, staring at each other and speechless. Finally you find your voice and drag it back from its hiding place. “Uh, hi,” you wave awkwardly—And woooow, clearly you only dragged a part of it back. And also, a freaking wave?!? What are you, 12? You’d facepalm right now, if it weren’t for the tall blonde standing directly in front of you currently.

Steve gives you a shy smile, and an awkward wave in return, “Hi.”

Okay, so at least you aren’t the only awkward one. That’s good, you guess. “Shall we?” You ask, pointing past Steve at the empty hallway.

He nods quickly, “yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” And then he steps out of the doorway to allow you room to exit your apartment. You quickly do, turning to close and lock your door, and then you direct your attention back to the Adonis beside you, as you both begin to walk towards the stairwell door.

A silence looms over you both, you aren’t exactly sure what to say, and it would appear Steve has the same sentiments. You make your way down the stairs and out your apartment buildings front door, and then you freeze. Completely. You gape at the all black car, currently parked on the curb outside your building. “Is that,” you pause, your voice barely coming out above a whisper, so you clear your throat, “is that a Mclaren P1?” You turn to look back at Steve, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open.

He gives you a bashful look, “it is. I’m sorry, I was planning to bring my bike, but then Nat told me you might be wearing a dress, and that even if you weren’t, the helmet would just mess up your hair,” he trails off, glancing at the car and mumbling, “So Tony forced me into taking this ridiculous car.”

You chuckle softly and turn to look back at your dream car, sitting just 25 feet away. “Not ridiculous at all. If I ever won the lottery, that’s the first thing I’d buy,” you gesture to the car and then a cold sweat rips through you, and you quickly look down to inspect your clothes. Or rather, the ass of your jeans.

There is no way in hell you are getting in that car, until you are positive there isn’t a single thing on your jeans that could accidentally be transferred to the seats. You could NEVER afford to replace one of those seats, they are insanely expensive and your measly junior journalist pay would not cut it. You’d be back paying till you were old and grey. No! Longer than that, you’d have to leave your debt owing to Tony Stark in your damn Will. So that your poor children and grandchildren could continue to pay it off after you’re dead and gone. That’s how expensive they are.

A soft chuckle from behind you causes your eyes to flick up and realize that Steve is watching your every move. Including how you just checked your own ass out. Wonderful. Way to go, smart one!

“Ah, shall we?” You ask, yet again, as clearly that’s the only words you have in your repertoire tonight. Some journalist you are. Steve gives you a large grin, and nods, then he places his hand on your lower back and leads you towards your dream car. And if this wasn’t a first date, and that wasn’t Tony Stark's car, you’d have totally asked if you could drive it. But you refrain, this time.

Steve lifts up the passenger door for you,—yes, ‘lifts up’. Butterfly doors are just far too damn cool for words!— like the gentleman he is and you thank him quietly as you slip in. And the second the door is closed, your eyes excitedly bounce around the car's interior, taking in all of it as you may never get a chance to sit in a Mclaren again. And you don’t want to miss or forget a single detail about this damn car.

Steve slips into the driver's seat and clicks in his seatbelt, reminding you that you should probably do the same. So you quickly click yours in as well. Then he turns to you, “you like cars, I take it?”

“Something like that,” you chuckle as he pushes a button to start up the car and it roars to life. Which yeah, that causes your insides to do a little happy dance of excitement at just the sound of this beast alone. “My dad was a mechanic, and an avid supercar enthusiast. So I grew up around cars and at race tracks.”

Steve hums his acknowledgement of your words, as he pulls away from the curb. “I’m more of a bike guy, myself. But I can appreciate a beautiful car.”

You smile at him, happy that you’ve both managed to get over your initial awkwardness and settled on a topic you are comfortable and knowledgeable in. “I like bikes as well, though I’m nowhere near coordinated enough for two wheels, so I stick to four.”

He chuckles, and takes a second to glance over at you before focusing back on the road, “Well, I’ll have to take you out on my bike one day,” he pauses and then quickly adds, “If um, if you’d be interested in that?”

You nod enthusiastically, “I’d really like that.”

You see the hint of a smile form on the side of his lips, “okay. I can make that happen.”

Then what his words actually meant hits you, and you freeze up again. Because, wait, did he just ask you on a second date?! Did he just imply that he already knows he wants a second date? Even before this one has actually started? Shit, what are you supposed to do with that information?! Thank God your frazzled and slightly slow mind hadn’t clued into this until after you’d answered him. Or you could have just ended up not replying at all, and making the poor guy think you didn’t want to see him again. Or that you weren’t enjoying yourself so far. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.

You pull your head out of your ass, and decide to ignore your insecurities and fears, and just talk to Steve. So you start asking him simple questions about himself, nothing too deep, just surface stuff, and as the car ride continues on, you find yourself relaxing more and more.

You both just talk the entire way to the restaurant and before you know it, the car is coming to a stop and Steve is climbing out and handing the valet his keys. He quickly makes his way around to your side and opens up the door before you can even attempt to get it yourself, he offers you a hand and helps you out, and yeah, that makes you swoon a little more. But just a little.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

As he pulls open the restaurant's door for Y/N, and guides her inside, he starts to finally calm down. Thank God his implication of wanting a second date so soon into the first one, hadn’t scared her off. Bucky had told him to play it aloof, leave her wanting more. Sam had told him to be cool, and to think before he spoke. And Nat had told him, once again, to ignore the guys and just be himself. If he wanted to say something to her, to just freaking say it. Be open, and honest, and not some fabricated asshole or casanova. Because that wasn’t him, and girls could usually see right through that shit. So he’d once again decided to go with Nat’s advice, as hers seemed the least scary. And the most realistic.

But when the words had left his mouth, he’d almost groaned and banged his head against the steering wheel. Because who the hell brings up a second date, 5 minutes into the first? That was way too eager of him, to just assume she’d even be interested in the first place. But yet, it had worked out in his favour, because she’d replied instantly, and excitedly, that she’d really like that. So maybe just being himself, and saying what was in his head was the best option after all. It did score him a second date, so clearly this was going well. If he was any judge of things, that is.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Your eyes land on the beautiful young woman standing behind a podium, and the moment her eyes flick up and locked on you both, a large grin forms on her lips. You honestly don’t know what to make of the smile, it’s not exactly one you’d have expected, and you can’t place why it makes you feel so awkward.

It’s odd for sure, but then she speaks and her voice is a polar opposite to her grin. It’s sweet and soft, and calming. “Good evening you two, do you have a reservation? Or just looking for a table?”

“We have a reservation, under Rogers,” Steve answers and you aren’t sure if he is getting the same odd vibes as you are, maybe he is used to people reacting weirdly to his presence. Or maybe, you are just finally going fully crazy, but one glance up at the large blonde, and seeing the slight furrow of his brow, tell you that this isn’t normal, or maybe he is picking up on the same weird vibes that you are. So you aren’t going crazy—at least not this time, you aren’t.

She nods quickly, then picks up two menus and asks you both to follow her. She leads you through the restaurant and to a back corner table. “Here you are,” she says as she places the menus down on the table. “Your waiter will be with you shortly,” she adds, and you are positive that she is trying not to laugh. But you have no idea why. So far, every moment you’ve spent in this restaurant has been so damn weird. But you put that thought out of your mind as she leaves you both alone and scurries off back to her podium.

Steve helps you out of your jacket hanging it on your chair, then he pulls the chair out for you, and you thank him as you sit. He moves to sit across from you, as your eyes flick back over to the woman at the podium, and you notice she is watching you both. Clearly trying to hide that fact, but it’s pretty damn obvious. Once Steve is settled, you snap your eyes back to him, “that was weird, wasn’t it?”

He peers over his shoulder and also glances at the hostess for a second, before turning back to you. “Yeah, that was odd.”

“Does that always happen to you? Do people react to you like that all the time?”

He shakes his head, “sometimes they react, but never like that. That was a first for me.”

You nod, chuckling quietly as you pick up your menu and open it, “okay, so I wasn’t the only one that thought that was weird.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

“No,” Steve chuckles as he opens his menu as well. “You weren’t.”

He has never had someone react to his presence like that, he’s had people cry, scream, and laugh uncontrollably. Hell, he’s even had a few people faint, but never has a stranger reacted like that to him before. He isn’t sure what to make of the grin she gave him, it was almost like she was in on something that he wasn’t. And he did not like that thought, not one bit. He pushes the thoughts from his mind, as they both take a few moments to peruse the menus quietly.

A shadow falls over the table and Steve assumes the waiter has arrived, he continues to look over the menu as they place two waters on the table and begin to speak. “Good evening, my name is,” there is a strange pause and then a very awkward sounding, “Will,” is added. “And I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you both off with something to drink?”

Steve furrows his brows, because he is sure he recognizes that voice. He is 100% positive that he’s heard it many, many times—You have got to be kidding him!? His eyes snap up and lock onto a very familiar set of brown eyes, and then his narrow into a glare. And even with very real looking facial hair, he could spot Sam from a damn mile away. What the fuck is Sam doing here? And as his waiter, no less. And just like that, the hostess’ reaction now makes perfect freaking sense.

Steve quickly glances at Y/N, hoping she hasn’t looked up just yet, seeing that she is still buried in her menu, then he flicks his eyes back to ‘Will’ and he narrows them. The aforementioned ‘waiter’ just gives him a cheeky grin in return. ‘What are you doing here?’ He mouths to his soon to be ex best friend.

‘Taking your drink orders,’ Sam mouths back with a ‘duh’ expression on his face, causing Steve's eyes to narrow even more in warning.

“I’ll just take an iced tea,” Y/N pipes up and Steve shakes his head before begrudgingly saying, “and I’ll take a beer, whatever’s on tap.”

“Excellent choices,” Sam says excitedly and shoots Steve one more cheeky grin before he damn near runs away from the table. Leaving Steve feeling super confused, very irritated and entirely nervous as to just what his friend—hold that thought, he quickly glances around the restaurant, and his eyes lock on a table on the other side with three men and a woman, all in horrible disguises and he instantly knows who they are. Bucky, Tony, Clint and Nat—what his friends, he corrects in his head, have planned. Seriously, what the hell are they doing?!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

After ordering your drink, you finally decide which meal you’d like and then you place your menu down and glance up at Steve, curious if he’s decided yet or not. But before you can ask, you notice that he looks super out of it now. Like he is lost in thought, and he is entirely focused on something at the other side of the room. You glance over and see that he is looking—read, glaring—at a table with a few people sitting at it. “Do you know them?” You ask quietly, as you just continue to stare at them as well.

“Hmm?” He questions, “who?”

You turn to look at him again, seeing that his focus is now back on his menu. And once again, you feel extremely weird. “The people at that table over there,” you tip your head in it’s direction.

He looks up at you for a second, silently, before he rubs the back of his neck and glances back down at his menu. “Ah, possibly. I just ah, I think I know them from somewhere, but I can’t really remember exactly where.” He shrugs, “probably from work.”

You nod, his answer seeming a little forced and awkward, but you decide to just drop it. “So, any ideas on what you’d like to eat?”

“I was thinking the steak. It sounds delicious.”

“That’s what I was thinking about getting as well,” you smile to yourself, realizing you both seem to enjoy the same foods. Clearly that’s another thing you both have in common. Score!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

His eyes continue to dart between the table with his so-called ‘friends’ and the beautiful woman across from him. He is furious at his team for crashing his date, and with each passing second he only becomes more and more angry. How could they do this to him? He was nervous enough about this date, and now they had to go and add more stress onto his already frazzled nerves.

It’s taking everything in him not to go over there and tell them all to leave. His eyes snap back to Y/N, and he wants to smack himself for barely paying any attention to the story she is midway through telling. Here he is supposed to be learning all about her, or at least learning about her first hand, instead of only going on the outside information he learned from Tony’s invasion of privacy folder.

And if barely paying any attention to his date, isn’t bad enough, he also lied to her about the occupants of that stupid table. He knows exactly who they are, but in a split second decision, he chooses to not inform Y/N of that. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable in any way. And his nosy friends crashing their date to spy on them, yeah, that makes him uncomfortable and he knows them. He can’t imagine how she’d react to this all, so he decided to keep their presence to himself. At least until he figures out exactly what they have planned, and why the hell they thought it was a good idea to crash his date.

He vows right then and there to tell her about his shitty friends once they leave the restaurant, and apologize for his white lie at that point. But that doesn’t really relieve his guilt over all of this, nor his stress.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

It’s not hard to tell Steve is distracted by something, and you’d have to be blind to not notice him constantly glancing over at that table. To his credit, he is doing a pretty good job at hiding his immense interest in the four occupants, but you still noticed.

And maybe that has something to do with the fact that you’ve been talking about Eggo waffles and Oreos for the last 5 minutes, having ran on a hunch that he wasn’t really paying attention to you, and that hunch having turned out to be correct.

So here you are, telling him all your favourite flavours of Oreo, and describing exactly how you eat them. You are curious just how long it will take him to clue in and question you on your current conversation topic. So far, the timer just passed 5 minutes and is still going strong.

You have no idea who the people at that table are, but you figured Steve would tell you if you had anything to worry about. And since he hadn’t yet, you were trying to ignore the small pang of fear that they were bad people, hell-bent on hurting him, you, or both. He did deal with lots of bad, bad people in his line of work though. Or rather, he pissed off a lot of them. So you could only imagine how many wanted to cause him harm, or the people around him—But we aren’t focusing on that at the moment. One issue at a time here.

The waiter returns to drop off your drinks and take your food orders, and you don’t miss the small glare Steve sends him, which yeah, that’s fucking odd as well. You have no idea what this waiter did to him, but you can only assume it probably has something to do with the table of four. Maybe the waiter is a baddy as well?—Shit, if that is the case, then they have you both surrounded.

And what if they poison the food? Oh God! Maybe you should fake a tummy ache and see if Steve will take you home early? Ya know, just to be safe—you shake your head gently. Don’t be silly, like you already thought, if anything was wrong or if you were in any danger, Steve would have told you. Or at least made sure to protect you, he was a freaking superhero after all—

“Oreos?” He asks finally, the cutest furrow in his brows at his confusion on the current topic. The one you’d picked right back up the second the waiter walked away.

And you chuckle, that only took him 10 minutes. Not bad. But not really great either, you guess. “I like Oreos,” you shrug, trying to act casual. “So tell me a little about yourself. What kinds of sweets does Steve like?”

He chuckles, “I guess Oreos are pretty good, I’m also a fan of them. But my all time favourite are Reese’s peanut butter cups.”

“Really?” You ask leaning forward on your hand with your elbows on the table, genuinely intrigued by his choice in chocolate.

“Yeah,” he chuckles again. “When I woke up from the ice, I was really surprised to see that Reese’s were still around. I remember when they first started selling them, or at least when I first started buying them, back in the early 30’s. Though they were sold individually back then, and at only 2 cents a piece,” he chuckles a little more, shaking his head as he does. “It still boggles my mind how much has changed since then, but yet, some things have stayed exactly the same.”

“I can’t even imagine,” you say honestly, “what else has stayed the same?” And just as he starts to tell you a few other things, your eyes catch movement behind him and you glance towards it. Seeing an older woman sitting at a table, one away from yours, and facing you. With what looks like an older man sitting across from her, but you can only see the back of his head. But then you notice that she is looking down at the phone in her hands, intently, as it’s raised up in the air, above her table. What is that woman even doing? Is she—is she taking freaking pictures of you!?

Your eyes focus in on the phone in question and—wait a fucking second! Is that a damn cat DJing a pizza, in space?! You audibly gasp, as your eyes snap back up to lock on the ‘old ladies’, who is now looking at you and then yours narrow, accusingly. And at least the woman has the good sense to avert her eyes, quickly, but the damage has been done. So you then assess the back of the ‘old mans’ head, and come to an unwavering realization.

“Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” You flick your eyes back to Steve’s. “Oh, yeah. Yep. I’m just dandy,” your eyes again lock on the stupid ‘old woman’. “I just have to use the ladies room, I’ll be right back.” You abruptly stand, barely getting the words out before you quickly run away from your table. You glance back to make sure Steve isn’t watching and then forcefully yank the ‘old’ woman and man from their spots and drag them to the bathrooms with you. Not giving them a moment to protest.

Then the moment the door shuts you whirl around on them, grabbing the woman’s grey hair and pulling on it, leaving you holding a wig in your hands and glaring daggers at your, so called, best friends. If you weren’t so angry right now, you’d have commented on this being a wig snatching great time. But you're furious. Fuming, even.

“I really shouldn’t be in here,” Tyler points out unhelpfully.

“Oh please,” you scoff, “I’m more likely to check out the women in this bathroom than you are.”

He presses his lips together, nodding in agreement but he is smart enough to keep his lips zipped. Your eyes move over to glare menacingly at Lindsey.

“Look, we can explain,” she puts her hands up in submission.

“I sure fucking hope so,” you scold, crossing your arms like a pissed off parent. “Well, let’s hear it then. Come on, out with it. What could have possibly possessed you both to crash my date? Hmm?”

“It was his idea,” Lindsey points to Tyler, at the same time he points to her, “it was her idea.”

They both gasp, scandalized, and glare at each other. “Liar!” They say in unison. Another gasp from both, “I am not!” and again, in unison.

You feel like they rehearsed this, they had to have. And if, by the off chance that they didn’t, then they clearly share the same wave link. And obviously a dumb one, at that.

“Okay, whoever’s idea it was aside,” you wave a dismissive hand around. “You both not only agreed to crash my date, but followed through with that stupid plan. So how I see it, you are both at fault here.” You sigh, some of the wind in your sails vanishing, “now, the real question is what the hell guys?” You shift your eyes between the two, “you both knew how excited and nervous I was for this date, how could you think this was a smart idea? The last thing I needed was more stress added into the mix. And the fear of Steve realizing you are both here, now that adds a lot of unnecessary stress onto me.”

“Sorry,” they both mumble with their heads down, like scolded children. And you believe you are getting through to these two knuckleheads. Buuuuuut then Tyler has to go and ruin it, “but it was actually Lindsey's idea, just to clarify.”

Linds jerks her head up and glares at him, “it was ‘our’ idea, traitor!” She hisses out. And just like that, they are back to bickering again.

You groan loudly and clench your eyes shut, taking a deep calming breath before you intervene, “okay, enough!” They both snap their mouths shut and turn to you. “I don’t have time to stand here and listen to you both argue. Unless you forgot, I’m sort of supposed to be on a date right now, and I’ve now been standing in the women’s bathroom for an entirely too long amount of time. Steve’s going to think I encountered a damn basilisk or something,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Do you think he’d even understand that reference?” Tyler asks the room, then turns to Lindsey, “do you think anyones shown him those movies yet?”

Lindsey gives him an odd look, “of course he’s seen them. They are a huge part of this generation, there is no way that no one in his life has shown him the Potter franchise yet.”

Tyler nods slowly, “unless his friends all suck, I guess.”

“Very valid point, Ty—“ Linds starts but you cut in.

“Not important at the moment, guys,” you say as you uncross your arms and point a menacing finger at them. “Now, I’d ask you both to leave, but I know you won’t listen to me. So instead, I’ll ask that since you both are hell-bent on crashing my date, the least you could do is not be so damn obvious about it. Please, no more photos, and for the love of God, do not let Steve know you both are here, got it?”

“Got it,” they both mumble. Then Tyler quietly says, you think mainly to himself, “but Harry Potter is always important.”

You ignore his comment and walk passed both of them and exit the bathroom, not having anything else to say to either of them. Because honestly, it would just be a waste of time, those two do exactly what they want, no matter what you say or how you reason with them. So there isn’t even a point in wasting the breath at the moment. They will stay and lurk on you and Steve either way. However, you honestly wouldn’t change either of them for the world. They may frustrate the hell out of you, but you get them back all the time. It’s a 50/50 thing, for sure.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

The moment she is up from the table and has walked off, he pulls out his phone and brings up the group chat to fire off a message. ‘What the hell are you guys doing here?’

His eyes flick up to watch his friends, as they each pull out their phones and read his text. Then they all look over at him and give him their best innocent smiles, and then his phone vibrates with a message and he glances down to see it’s from Tony. ‘We are just here for dinner, such a coincidence that we happened to pick the same restaurant as you two.’

Steve shoots Tony a glare before checking that Y/N isn’t in sight and standing up to stomp over to their table. “Oh yeah? Just getting dinner, hey? Then what’s with the get ups,” he flicks the obviously fake wig on Bucky’s head, causing the Jerk to swat his hand away just as he continues on to hiss out, “and why the hell is Sam our waiter?”

“Look, Steve,” Nat starts and his heated glare snaps to her, causing her to put her hands up in surrender. “I had no hand in this idiotic plan, it was entirely their idea,” she points at Bucky and Tony, causing the latter to gasp and the former to—well, to look pretty fucking guilty, if you ask Steve. But she just turns back to Steve and continues on, “I only chose to join them to make sure they didn’t fuck your date up too badly.” Then Clint pipes up, also putting his hands up in surrender, “and I’m just here for the food.”

“Traitors,” Tony accuses in a hissed whisper.

Clint just shrugs, and Nat looks at Tony and crosses her arms, “you can call me whatever you like, Tony. But I refuse to get on Steve’s bad side because of your stupid ideas. No fucking thank you, that’s a bullet I won’t take for you.”

Tony shoots her one last glare before correcting his features and turning to Steve, clearly trying to salvage the situation. “We just wanted to be here for moral support. In case you needed any backup. Isn’t that right, Manchurian Candidate,” he elbows Bucky for support, but the Jerk knows that no matter what they say, Steve will be pissed. So best to keep his mouth shut for now, which is blatantly obvious by the way he presses his lips together and refuses to look at Steve.

“Bullshit,” Steve says as he crosses his arms. “Your choice to be here has nothing to do with backing me up, but I don’t have time to stand here and argue with you. I’m supposed to be on a fucking date and I can barely focus on Y/N with you assholes sitting here. So eat your food and get out, we will talk when I get back to the tower,” he says that last part like a threat. They are so fucking in for it when he gets home, and he wants them all to know it. “And tell Sam to let a real waiter take over, I dunno who you all bribed to let you pull this shit, but if a real waiter isn’t the next person to approach my damn table, I’ll be even more pissed off,” then with that said, he spins on his heel and quickly makes his way back to the table. Glad that Y/N hasn’t come out of the bathroom just yet, so she didn’t see him scolding the table of assholes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

You quickly make your way back to the table, seeing Steve sitting by himself and feel like an asshole for taking so long, scolding your shit ass friends. You quickly retake your seat and feel the need to apologize. “Sorry that took so long,” you pause, because what the hell excuse are you supposed to use!? Shit, you should have thought about this before you sat back down! “Ah, just as I was washing my hands, my um, my mom called.” Shit, that was a horrible excuse. What is wrong with you?!

“Oh?” Steve asks hesitantly, “is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, yeah,” you nod quickly. Maybe too quickly but no taking it back now. “She just forgot I had a date tonight, I told her I’d call her back later.”

He seems to give you an odd look for a moment, before finally nodding and glancing around the restaurant. “Does it feel like the food is taking a really long time, or is it just me?”

You glance around as well, not seeing a single waiter or waitress in sight, “no, it’s not just you. I think we ordered like 30 minutes ago, maybe?”

He nods, “yeah, something like that.”

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer,” you comment, trying to be positive. “And it just means we get more time to talk.”

He smiles at you, “well, in that case, let’s hope the food never comes.”

And swooooon. You couldn’t not swoon over his words even if you tried. You give him a grin, and you know for a fact that it’s probably the biggest, goofiest thing he’s ever seen, but you can’t help it. “Fingers crossed,” you trail off from starting a new conversation as you see your, so called, friends doing the walk of shame from the bathroom and retaking their seats at their table. And before you can stop yourself, the words are already leaving your mouth, unfiltered. “Ever wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?” You abruptly ask, and then mumble out, “Cause I’m getting that feeling right about now.”

Steve snorts and you realize he was mid sip of his beer when you asked, and you watch as he quickly gulps down his mouthful, before his eyes flick over to the table of four for a second, then snap back to you. “All the time, actually.”

You give the table an inconspicuous side eye, and notice there are actually now five people sitting around it. So they have clearly gained another occupant, you see. And, that’s neat. Glad to see the baddies are growing in number. Excellent. Just freaking excellent. This night is not going to plan, not one fucking bit. And seriously, where the hell is your food!?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

He glances down at the watch on his wrist and sees that it’s now, 7:27. Their reservation had been for 6:30, and so they have now been waiting on their food for at least 40 minutes. He is willing to bet that his ‘friends’ have something to do with why their food is taking so long, just another thing he will scold them all for later.

And the longer the food takes, the more intense of a scolding they’ll get. Mark his words now, this will be the last time they ever pull a stunt like this on him or anyone, ever again. He’ll make sure of it.

“Sorry for the delay,” a new voice chimes in from about them, and Steve glances up to see his first unfamiliar face since the hostess. “Ah, Will had a um, an emergency, so my name is Kyle, I’ll be taking over for him.” He places two new drinks down to replace the now two empty ones. “These drinks are on the house, as an apology for the wait. But it shouldn’t be too much longer for your food to be ready.”

Y/N thanks the new—actual—waiter, and Steve just nods, a small triumphant smile on his face as he glances over at the table, to see Sam now sitting with the others. Good, at least they can still follow orders, that will win them some points with him tonight.

The new waiter—Kyle—scurries off back to the kitchen door and Steve turns his attention back to Y/N. “Did you have a better time at work, this week?” He asks, genuinely curious how this recent week went, since he was more than aware that her last week hadn’t been very fun for her. He’d been meaning to ask about how she was doing with the media and the new popularity all night, as he had worried all week about her.

And just as she started to tell him all about her week, he lifts up his fresh beer and takes a very generous gulp. Only for the fact that as a super soldier, Steve can’t get drunk. At least not off regular beer. Though he furrows his brows once the cold liquid slides down his throat, because—does this taste different than the last beer he had? Wouldn’t they give him the same one he’d ordered before?

He internally shrugs, maybe they just ran out of the other beer so they gave him this one instead. It’s no big deal, he really likes the taste of this new one, and it was free. If there is anything Steve’s learned since waking up from the ice in this new—and expensive—era, it’s that you should never ever pass up free things. So he’ll drink it either way, even if just for that simple fact alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

After a few more minutes of just talking about both of your weeks, the waiter returns and finally places your food on the table in front of you. And not a moment too late, you were seriously beginning to weigh the pros and cons of cannibalism—Okay, maybe you were going that extreme yet, but you were getting pretty dang hungry for sure.

You and Steve don’t waste a second, and both cease the conversations as you start to eat your respective meals, as the waiter scurries off to wherever waiters go while the patrons eat. Probably to check on the other customers. Your eyes drift back to the table of fo—five now, and you see them all eating their food now as well. So you allow yourself a moment to just breathe, and eat, and pretend like that table still isn’t worrying you. A lot.

After another few moments, and most of both your plates now empty, you see that Steve has finished his beer. But you only make that observation because he accidentally slams the glass down on the table, not breaking the glass, but the look he gives it after the loud clanking bang, leads you to believe he didn’t mean to be that forceful with it.

Your eyes flick up to his face, and you see he is a little flushed now, his eyes a little bloodshot and—wait, is he drunk?

“This food was amazing!” He damn near yells, and yep, yeah, you believe he is in fact drunk. Oh lordy, this should be fun..

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

Something isn’t right. He don’t feel ..right. He glances around the room, but quickly halts his eyes when he feels like the room is rocking. Spinning almost and that makes his stomach do somersaults. His eyes look down to his now empty glass, his brows furrowing, he can’t get drunk. But yet, he feels drunk. He feels just like he did that day Thor let him try the Asgardian mead—his eyes snap over to the table of his ‘friends’ and it instantly hits him—The beer didn’t taste weird because it was different, it tasted weird because they freaking spiked his drink.

Oh, they are so going to pay for this one. He huffs, as he attempts to glare holes in the sides of his ‘friends’ heads. They are all making a point to not look his way, they know they're in shit now. The fuckers—

“Who’s going to pay?”

Steve’s eyes widen as they flick back over to meet Y/N’s. Shit, did he say that out loud?! And before he can even attempt to come up with a quick cover up, his lips are moving and spilling the truth, much to his surprise and dismay. “My horrible friends,” he manages to get a hold of his lips before he says anything more, he presses them together in an effort to keep the rest of his words in. However, the adorable confused expression now on Y/N’s face makes him smile, and he is sure he looks like a crazy person at the moment. But honestly, he doesn’t really care at the moment. Maybe he will later, but not right now. “You’re adorable when you frown,” he chuckles.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

You were still trying to figure out what he meant by ‘his horrible friends with pay for this’, but then he has to go and say you’re adorable and that halted all your thoughts, immediately. Damn, who knew you were so weak to compliments. Once again, some journalist you are. Geesh—Focus woman! Your eyes drift back to the table of five, and you give them a more thorough looking over and—holy fuck, is that Bucky Barnes. Wait, wait, wait, and Tony Stark. AND Natasha Romanov. Oh shit, and Clint Barton. And freaking SAM WILSON! Hold up, Sam looks exactly like your last waiter, Will.

And oooooh, it all makes so much sense now. You burst out laughing at the realization that not just your shitty friends crashed this date, Steve’s did too. Oh God, this is just too damn good. “Steve?” You ask softly, bringing his attention back to you. He’d been inspecting the table, as if to make sure it was structurally sound.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding slightly out of it.

“Question?—err, actually maybe two questions,” you hastily amend and he chuckles.

“Okay,” he nods, a little too quickly, and hiccups as he speaks his next words, “W-what are they?”

“Is that your team over there?” You nod with your head towards the table of five, but keep your eyes fixated on the large blonde.

He scrunches up his face and opens his mouth to speak, but then sighs deeply and lowers his eyes to the table, then mumbles “yeah, it is.” But then as if it just hit him in the face, he snaps his head up and starts speaking again, a little louder this time—read, damn near yelling again. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea they were going to be here—“

You cut him off with your laugh, and he furrows his brows, his mouth still open as he clearly tries to figure out what’s so funny. You try valiantly to reign in your laugh, but this is all just too damn hilarious. “Y/N?” He asks hesitantly, confusion in his voice.

And you realize you have to say something, anything, so between laboured breaths and chuckles to manage to spit out in a whisper, “see the old couple behind you, a table away?”

Steve’s lips form a frown and he glances over his shoulder, not even remotely in a graceful manner. Then his whips back around and nods at you, “yeah,” he says slowly.

“Those two ‘old people’,” you make quote signs with your fingers, “are my two idiot best friends in disguise. They also crashed our date,” and those words make you laugh all over again at this whole weird situation. Your words clearly take a second to sink in, but as if a light just lit up, Steve’s frown disappears and he starts to laugh with you. Louder than you, actually. And so loud that it draws the attention of everyone in the rest restaurant, including both tables of your date crashing friends. Every last one of them.

“You’re joking?” He manages to say between boisterous laughs. You shake your head as you say, “not even a little bit.”

He laughs a little more, shaking his head as well. “That is too funny.”

You nod, agreeing with him, “that it is. Looks like both our friends are,” you raise your voice so all the people in question can hear you clearly, “nosey assholes.” Though your words are more directed at your two best friends, but maybe also a little at Steve’s. And one quick glance at both tables, and the scandalized expressions around both causes you to burst out laughing again. After a few moments, you both manage to calm down a little, enough to speak again at least. You quickly rub the tears from your eyes, as Steve takes a few deep breaths. Then you think of something, “and here I thought my friends were invasive. At least they didn’t fake being our waiter,” you giggle.

Steve groans, then chuckles a little more, “were you really surprised they’d go to that length? They did sort of force you to goto that press conference.”

“Oh shit,” you chuckle a little more, “I didn’t even think of that!”

“Yeah,” Steve shakes his head, “they are always sticking their noses in other people's lives. It’s rather frustrating,” he mumbles the last part, and you believe more so to himself.

“Wait,” Steve abruptly says, “you said you had two questions?”

You grin, nodding slowly as your second question pops back up into your head. Though you’re going to amend it a little. You were going to ask if he was drunk, but you're positive now that he is. So your question is a little changed, “so I’m guessing they spiked your drink, which means you can’t drive?”

“Shit,” Steve mumbles as his face pales and all the humour leaves his features. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I can call you a cab, if you want? I’ll pay for it.”

“No,” a sly grin works its way onto your lips. “I have a better idea.” You stand up from the table and Steve slowly stands as well. Though you can see his very evident wobble from the booze. “Come with me,” you gesture for him to join you, offer him your hand for what little support you can give him. Ya know, since he is much larger than yourself, and if he starts to go down, you won’t be able to save him. But the gesture is what matters, right?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

He is feeling the full effects of the mead as he stands, wobbling a little before quickly gaining his balance. If he falls flat on his face in front of her, he will be out for blood. She offers him her hand and he glances down at the outstretched appendage, then almost laughs. If he does go down, there is no way in hell she’ll be able to stop him, and he’ll just end up taking her down with him. But the chance to hold her hand, can’t be passed up, even in Steve’s mead muddled mind, he knows that fact clear as day.

He smiles and takes her hand, allowing her to lead the way and he quickly realizes where she is taking them. And the slightly panicked eyes of his friends makes him chuckle again. They reach the table of five, and Steve gives a curious look to Y/N, unsure where exactly she is going to take this. But he isn’t gonna lie, he’s excited to see what her master plan is.

“Avengers,” she nods in hello and smiles at each of them.

His friends all give each other strange, nervous looks before Tony speaks up, “Y/N,” he nods then looks at Steve. “Steve.” Before his eyes move back to the little woman holding Steve's hand tightly. “I see you’ve figured us out,” he chuckles awkwardly.

“That I have,” she giggles, “wasn’t too hard, once you spiked Steve’s drink.”

“That was Sam’s doing,” Tony quickly says, earning a gasp from the aforementioned.

“It might have been my doing, but it was Tony’s idea,” Sam quickly defends, pointing a menacing finger at the billionaire. Ugh, here we go again, Steve thinks.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Tony is just about to speak, but you cut in before he can. You aren’t interested in their bickering about who did what, and who’s behind this whole thing. You got enough of that from your own friends. “It’s okay, we aren’t mad,” you glance up at Steve, and see him about to refute your words, but one pointed look from you and he presses his lips together and nods in agreement.

“We aren’t,” he mumbles, the words not sounding overly convincing but it’s the thought that counts.

You bite your lip to prevent the new laugh from escaping. “But,” you abruptly say, “there are conditions to us not being upset.”

And Tony clearly tries to fight the grin that wants to show through, as he narrows his eyes at you, “and those are?”

“Our bill still needs to be paid,” you say calmly, commandingly so that Tony is aware you mean he will be paying it. And as you speak you are fighting to not look too excited for your next words. Tony nods slowly, hesitantly, and says, “okay, and?”

Your grin breaks through, and you see Tony shiver from the smug smile. “Since Steve is unable to drive currently, I will be driving him home and will return your car to you in the morning—“. Tony cuts in, “what? No, no, that doesn’t seem—“. “Tony,” Steve cuts in this time, sternly, clearly trying not to laugh.

“You all were the ones who crashed our date and spiked his drink,” you say, “therefore, hindering him from being able to drive. So these are the consequences, I’ve driven supercars before, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Tony doesn’t seem convinced, at all, but everyone else at the table seems highly amused by all of this. “I think it’s only fair,” Nat pipes up, a smug grin on her face to match yours. “I agree with Nat,” Clint mumbles through his mouthful of food. Tony shoots them both a glare, then sighs, “fine, you can take the car for the night.”

And you are just about to squeal and jump up and down, when he abruptly adds, “but,” he points a finger at you then at Steve, “if there is so much as a single scratch on it tomorrow, Steve is covering the repair bill.”

Steve gives you a look, one that screams ‘now just wait one second, let’s talk about this a little first’ But you just ignore him, and nod at Tony, “Deal.” And before Steve can say a word, you begin to drag him away from the table, hearing Tony chuckle and say quietly, “I like that one,” to the others. Which only causes your smile to grow as you continue to pull Steve towards the front door of the restaurant.

As you both stand on the sidewalk, waiting for the valet to bring the car around and you are vibrating with excitement! This is your damn dream car and you GET TO DRIVE IT! Aaaaah! Shit!! Is this real life?!—A deep chuckle from beside you, causes you to come back to reality, and you glance up at the tall blonde. This day has been the weirdest one in your entire life, not only did you get to go on a date with thee Steve Rogers, but now you get to drive your dream car?! This is all just too much! Too damn much! But in all the best ways. “Sorry,” you smile bashfully up at him, as you tuck a few wayward strands of hair behind your ear, “I’m a little excited.”

“I can see that,” he nods, a glorious smile playing on his own lips. Just as you are about to speak, the beautiful sound of the supercars exhaust can be heard coming towards you, and before you know it, the Mclaren P1 is directly in front of you. In all it’s shiny black glory, and you are sure you’re dreaming. You have to be. Either that, or you’re drooling.

The valet goes to hand the keys to Steve, but you intervene and take them before he can, and then you get an idea. You quickly unlock the car and open up the door for Steve, who gives you an odd look, so you say with a shrug, “it’s my turn to be the gentleman.”

Which causes him to chuckle and hesitantly slip into the passenger seat then you close the door and make your way around to the driver's seat.

And before you know it, you are pulling up out front of the Avengers Tower. Steve had told you on the drive that he normally lives out at the compound now, but still has a room at the tower and stays there from time to time.

You shut the car off and quickly gesture for him to wait, receiving another odd look from the blonde. You quickly get out of the car and race around to open his door, you are determined to be the ‘gentleman’ this time. Steve deserves as much.

He chuckles again as he clues into what you’re doing, then climbs out of the car and you begin to walk him up to the tower's front doors.

Once you both reach the doors, you halt your steps and turn to him, he does the same but in reverse, halting and turning towards you.

“I had—“. “Thank you—“. You both speak at the same time and laugh, then he says, “I’m sorry, go ahead.”

“I just wanted to say I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“Even with our friends crashing the date?” He asks, one brow raised.

You giggle, “yes, even with that. It made for a very memorable first date.”

“That it did,” Steve nods. “And I just wanted to say thank you, for not only going out with me, but for putting up with my shitty friends.”

You wave it off, “they aren’t so bad. I think it was rather sweet that all of our friends crashed our date. Really shows how much they care, even in their own weird ways.”

He nods again, as he glances down at the ground, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “would you be interested in doing this again sometime?”

You grin brightly, you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “No, I wouldn’t be interested in doing this again.” Before you can finish your sentence, Steve's head snaps up and he gives you one of thee saddest looks you’ve ever seen in your life. “Just wait,” you giggle, putting your hands up to halt him, “let me finish. But yes, I’d love to go on another date with you, preferably one without our friends being present.”

His frown morphs into a brilliant grin, “yes, no friends on the next one for sure.”

“Okay, well I should get home,” you say reluctantly, “but I’ll call you in the morning before I head over to drop the car off, and maybe we can do coffee and a walk? Just the two of us?”

“I’d love that,” he nods. “And yes, just the two of us.”

“Perfect,” you smile, and lean up to plant a kiss on his check, but at the last second you change course and lightly place your lips upon his. And just as you are about to pull back, his arms move around your waist and pull you into him as he deepens the kiss.

Which yeah, you fucking swoon at that too, and if he were to let go of you right now, you’d melt into the sidewalk. You’d become a human puddle.

But luckily for you, he doesn’t release you right away and you both drown in each other for a few moments before you reluctantly pull back and he does that same. “Goodnight, Steve,” you say softly, breathlessly as you take a step back.

“Goodnight, Y/N. See you in the morning.”

You smile, “see ya then.” You turn and head back towards the car, a skip in your step that you know Steve can clearly see, but you don’t care. You are too happy right now, for a bunch of different reasons.

You glance towards him as you pull up the driver's door and see he is still standing there, watching you, and your tummy does flips. You wave, receiving one in return, then climb into the supercar and close the door.

The whole drive home you can’t wipe the grin off your lips, no matter how hard you try. So maybe you were a little over dramatic in the beginning of this story, maybe you made this night out to be a lot worse than it actually was. Because it wasn’t the worst date you’d ever been on, not by a long shot. It was actually the best, if you’re being honest.

This all started with you being a Drunk Twitter tweeter, and ended with Steve being, well, being Just Drunk honestly. But you wouldn’t change a damn thing, not one second, because even the bad moments all lead up to this glorious one. The start of something so, so special.

And now you have a coffee date with Steve in the morning, and—if you have any say in the matter—many, many more dates to come. This is just the beginning, and you can not wait to see where this all ends up. But something deep, deep down is telling you, that you’re going to love the journey to the end. More than anything, because you’ll get to make that journey beside Steve. And honestly, what more could a woman want than that? Nothing, that’s what.

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

@caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @strawberry-gothchild @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @steeeeverogers @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @badassbeckettswan @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17 @emotionallysalty @saturngirlz @atomicsludgedonutbiscuit @ivannagotthebeat @bohemian-barbie @marvelous-capsicle @steverogersxreader @cjhorseback @jasminecalia @secondstar2disney @jessiedaeum @betsynodak @capricornprince118 @just-ladyme @pinkleopardss @drayshadow @sister-of-stars @wiserebelpartypie @dark-night-sky-99 @patzammit @cs-please @troublermalik @bratstopmom @anika-ann @wxstedhexrt @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @scentedsongrebel @captainchrisstan @kelbabyblue @fckdeusername @murdermornings @dreamlesswonder86

[smolbeandrabbles]

This Is What You Came For - Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

@mandy23b​ @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #mendotagsquad

GIF Credit: X

Nolan Sorrento + 29 - “How is my wife more badass than me?” Requested by @purebloodwitch​ Author’s Note: Alright! Second to last 100 Sentence Challenge request! We really are almost there now! 🙏😁 This is a Ready Player One AU. You’ll figure out the AU as you read 😉 I made... some Tron references in this! I don’t think enough to warrant you having needed to see it-!  😁 Maybe you’ll want to look up what exactly a Light Cycle is. (Specifically how you use one in Tron: Legacy) Also I know that the Cycle would technically be in her OASIS inventory but I really like the idea of her just carrying the stick around strapped to her belt or thigh or something to use it. So ignore that inaccuracy!

Disclaimer: AU / Neither RPO or Tron has anything to do with me. / gif not mine / lyrics not mine / References to Lacero

Premise: With the final Key of the OASIS up for grabs, and IOI certain that it will be theirs - you’ve become unnecessary. When it all goes wrong, there’s only one Sixer that can step up to the plate...

Words: 4948

Warnings: AU / Swearing

_______ Baby, this is what you came for Lightning strikes every time she moves Yeah Baby, this is what you came for Lightning strikes every time she moves And everybody's watching her But she's looking at you, We go fast with the game we play Who knows why it's gotta be this way We say nothing more than we need I say "your place" when we leave Baby, this is what you came for Lightning strikes every time she moves And everybody's watching her But she's looking at you --- Yes, I am gonna win, And I’ll light the fuse, And I’ll never lose And I choose to survive, Whatever it takes You won’t pull ahead, I’ll keep up the pace And I’ll reveal my strength to the whole human race Yes I am prepared to stay alive And I won’t forgive, vengeance is mine And I won’t give in because I choose to thrive Yeah, I’m gonna win! Race, It’s a race But I’m gonna win Yes, I’m gonna win 

---

You weren’t supposed to be here. In fact you weren’t even supposed to be on standby near IOI plaza. You were supposed to be at home - a simple spectator to the final challenge. Today was, of course, the day that IOI claimed the third key. Your husband, the OASIS for himself. Buuuut, as usual with Nolan, it had to be done the hard way - and everything appeared to be going terribly.

It wasn’t so hard to get your motorcycle from point A to point B and before you knew it you were hurrying towards the War Room. You heard the whispers and murmurs get steadily louder as you rushed from room to room; but especially as you ran the walkways over the Oologists. Y/N’s here! Y/N’s here! Y/N’s here! Yeah - everyone knew what that meant.

“Y/N! Ms.Sorrento, I-!” His assistant caught you as soon as you flung the doors to the correct floor open. “Paul, now is not the time to tell me what Nolan does or doesn’t want me to do. It looks like he needs me and, regardless of that, I think the sixers need help.” Several of them stood to attention as you clambered up on one of the platforms ready to strap yourself in. Good kids that respected you. Well, that came with the territory, you had spent time training a few of the best here too. Michael, their drill instructor and another guy you liked plenty, rushed over to perform final checks and run down exactly what was happening with you, he knew this was serious too. “Shall I inform him you’re here!?” Paul seemed to be halfway to the door already, “Nah, he’ll figure out soon enough!” You gave Michael a fist bump as you pulled on your gloves. “Andrew up there?” Nolan’s head of security seemed pretty important to keep around right now. “Uh… I don’t know I-” “Don’t worry, just make sure he is.” You took a breath regarding your visor for a moment. Okay – time to teach these kids a thing or two, again.

You were something of a marvel within the OASIS yourself - though you weren’t about to brag about it. IOI’s secret weapon, and boy did they desperately need you right now. F’Nale, but with covert OASIS based operations. And you were very alike; you understood why Nolan trusted her as much as he did you. An “official” I-R0k; although you would never like the comparison, considering you could trust him about as far as you could throw him, and didn’t understand why Nolan had so much faith. You two didn’t get on, which is why you’d been left out of a lot of this key stuff. For this to run smoothly Nolan had to keep the two of you from clashing, and I-R0K was the one getting paid for things you would consider less than legal. Except you had two keys, and they ought to remember that. Besides, it looked like his faith was going well...

You glanced up to Nolan’s office with a gentle sigh as you slipped on your visor to log in. Am I going to have to rescue you again, husband dearest? Much like him you didn’t wear your wedding ring - his in a box in the left pocket of his jacket ‘over my heart, where it matters’ is what Nolan always said. Yours on a chain around your neck, which you would often kiss for good luck, as you did now. The familiar start up screen greeted you with those five letters you knew all too well; before presenting you with a host of IOI portal options. Your flashed smile was confident as you stepped towards one.

Sector 14, Anoraks Castle, Planet Doom

 *** You knew what you were as much as everyone else did. Nolan’s last line of defence. IOI’s secret weapon. Everyone knew, if they didn’t already, that it was serious when you took to the War Room floor and suited up. You would never call yourself a Gunter and you certainly weren’t a Sixer in the traditional sense, you enjoyed your time in the OASIS sure – and you were probably in it a little too much for Nolan’s liking, but that made you perfect. You knew what you were doing, and you weren’t restricted. For one thing, your Avatar still retained her original name. Today you’d changed into your battle uniform, but usually you could blend freely with everyone else. Working for him sure, but unlike the Sixers you were invisible. Before you’d met Nolan Sorrento you’d been a stuntwoman – when movie making still existed. It didn’t make the transition to becoming a fitness instructor that hard, and eventually that led to becoming a personal trainer for the elite (no one else was paying for such a thing these days). Nolan wasn’t one of these people, Nolan was someone whose form you’d commented on once or twice to help – and also a man who infuriatingly thought he knew everything. He’d in no way been your favourite person, the kinda rich corporate asshole that thought his money could buy him everything. But he liked your attitude and soon enough you realised that Nolan was only pretending not to listen to you. You warmed to him, and he you – to the point you knew he wasn’t kicking around your gym just for his workouts. You got hired as his trainer, and then promptly dropped as you started dating. Nolan wasn’t one for dating people he hired, because he liked to avoid scandal, which is exactly why you weren’t an official IOI employee. But he was as married to his job as he was to you, so, it had to bleed into your life somewhere. Truth was when it came to your relationship you were firmly in the drivers’ seat; and Nolan Sorrento needed you. Badly. Possibly none more so than he did now. You’d spent this morning at home – wishing him good luck before he left and letting him know you’d be on standby. Nolan had flashed a confident smile, and told you you didn’t need to be. “We have that… Orb of Osuvox thing, you can take the day off.” You were pleased he was at least pronouncing it correctly, “Okay. But with two keys and being arguably the best Sixer you have-” He crossed the room and kissed your forehead, “Y/N. That’s exactly why you need to stay…” He took your hands in his, touching his head to yours, “If I keep you safe here, then I know if things start going wrong, we still have a chance.” “Babe…” You pulled back, “Am I not your chance?” “We have this.” His blue eyes flashed in over-confidence (Which was correct in hindsight!) “Relax. Watch it here instead. You’ve done your part.” You tipped your head, before pulling him to you fiercely by his shirt collar for a fiery kiss – you’d have removed it, if you didn’t know that he had to go. “Finish it.” He blinked hard and swallowed harder, to Nolan that felt like a promise. Like the and hurry back was lingering unsaid on your lips. “I… I will.” Only that was before you’d watched that level 99 magic artifact implode on him, and you’d reached for your motorcycle keys then. No matter what Nolan said; you were always going to be on standby for him, you would step in if necessary, no matter the cost. The only thing that kept you on the couch for any longer than that was watching the appearance of Mechagodzilla. Now there was a movie Nolan had you watching 1000 times and yet still waxed lyrical about. How excited he was to tell you he’d built one in the OASIS. You had gifted him with a miniature figurine of it for his desk, and there it sat, his pride and joy. It always made you smile when you saw it. But even his faithful mechanical monster wasn’t helping him this time. And as you watched that explode you sprung from the couch. “SHIT!” Did that mean Nolan would have zeroed? No, no, no, no! That shouldn’t have happened. This shouldn’t be happening! You snapped the viewing screen off and sprinted to the garage – very nearly cursing yourself. You should have gone with him; you should have pushed Nolan, made it clear he needed you for moral support and no wasn’t an option – then you’d have been at HQ right now. Hell, you should have BEEN on that field right now, you could have gone from here - but what you really needed was IOI intel, portals, and access to their inventory. The one thing that gave you pause before you started your bike ignition was the vibration of your phone in your pocket, you pulled it out; ‘He needs you.’ was all it said – hastily written by his assistant, you pocketed it again and took a deep breath. Hand stilled for a moment over the gold band pressed against your chest under your shirt. “Yeah… No shit.” You always felt at home on bikes – and felt that it was always a quicker way to navigate through the city. You’d get to IOI Plaza quicker than you ever would in a car at any rate. Your OASIS vehicle of choice was a Light Cycle – Tron was one of, if not your all-time, favourite 80s Pop Culture movie. Although your current mod meant you had a version closer to the type in Legacy, a little easier to carry around and extremely fun to mount. You’d always flashed Nolan a grin and referred to your bike as ‘an ACTUAL gold piece of 80s media’ only for him to scoff at you. But yours had won you that first key before anyone else in IOI had, and you got to waltz into his board meeting and practically demand to be employed. (Unsurprisingly, Nolan didn’t really want you involved. Oh, until you proved you could do it!) The Light Cycle games were also ever popular in the OASIS, and you were the current reigning champion. Those had cemented your place in the OASIS, rather than your role as an IOI agent – it was unsurprising that everyone assumed you were a gunter. Many had tried to beat you, and all had failed – now it was time to put all those skills to a different kind of test. Hopefully you could win this one too. Nolan was counting on it.

*** Your avatar materialised on just the right side of the battle. Maybe a little too close to danger, though. You took a couple of steps back from the shattered bridge, giving only an obliging glance to the lava before turning to the castle; the real fight was in here. “Taking the bridge out isn’t a bad idea… I suppose…” – It was likely the only credit you would give I-R0K. This particular part of the planet looked like more of a winter scene than the rest of it. And not from any cheery Christmas movie, you thought, much more like the Day After Tomorrow. The wind whipped your avatar’s hair around and left a distinct chill on your VR gear; you shivered against the cold involuntarily before you broke into a run, hoping you weren’t too late. You had highly modified your avatars coding, twice, for these exactly moments. Within seconds you deployed her fairy-like wings. You couldn’t remember exactly when you’d last used them practically, rather than for extra show. But if ever there was a time, it was now. Beneath what you could hear from the OASIS itself was the nearly comforting noise of the war room and the murmur rippled – this was serious business. You could leave nothing to chance. The sound of real fighting echoed off the ice as you kept running, letting you wings vibrate against the cold air to give her lift, hopefully this would work! *** At first Parzival wasn’t sure what exactly had hit him, only that his right hand side had taken the brunt of the force. Luckily not enough to take out his armour quite yet. Looking up, he faced an avatar he’d never seen before skidding across the ice to a stop, whereupon she used her wings to right herself. Those must have been coded by the person to whom she belonged; he’d never seen a mod like that. He suddenly found himself with a sense of dread; dressed in a black leather jacket reminiscent of Sorrento’s own, underneath was a T-Shirt emblazoned in lights: IOI-6whatever-her-number-was. A Sixer?! But with an avatar like that she wasn’t just a regular one. He stood shakily, eyes flicking back to Sorrento – who looked more than a little surprised that she’d just joined the fight. Parzival smiled; Nolan was off guard – now was his chance. Z got just two paces – albeit at a very good run – before you were back in front of him. Every step he took you mirrored; wings stretched out defensively. These might have been kids, but you weren’t opposed to getting up in his face. Your eyes glittered in a way that made the colour seem unnatural (your favourite, if he was wondering), and Parzival was forced to take a slight step back. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch him.” You were more than happy to take the space he’d conceded. “Fine. I’ll just take both of you!” You had to give him credit, almost admired the attitude, eyes narrowed. Parzival wasn’t about to back down without a fight; hell, you might even find this one enjoyable. “You sure about that when you can just walk away now – it might be less painful for you.” “This is my world – and I’ll protect it from IOI and HIM by any means necessarily!” You sighed, with a shrug, “Suit yourself-!” There was just no way around you. Parzival realised he’d have to go through you and he wasn’t sure how many more of these painful hits he could take. You were highly trained and knew what you were doing – it raised so many questions as to why he’d never met you before. “Y-Y/N!” “Save it!” You didn’t even turn to Nolan’s avatar as you snapped, holding your hand up to silence him, give this kid an inch he’d likely take a mile. (Also you weren’t entirely happy anymore about your husband leaving you behind, but now wasn’t the time for that). You went for Z again – weapons unnecessary; your avatar was fine with relying on your own fighting skills and knowledge. Especially in close combat – magic was nice, but you’d still take your own instincts over that. Really you should have told him he didn’t have a chance, and you weren’t bad at dodging his tricks either. Given you were IOI’s best kept secret, there was probably too much going on in Parzival’s head right now to keep focus on what he was doing. He didn’t have any friends to save him. Your next sharp strike had him down on the floor – flashing red in warning that any second, he could be taken off the board. And it was painful, you made sure of that, to keep him there for a minute. You had a couple of other idiots to deal with before you removed him from the top of the scoring. For the first time since you’d got here you acknowledged the cavernous area you found yourself in; it seemed to be nothing but ice and stretched on endlessly. That chill still clung to your VR equipment and as you caught your breath it fogged up in the virtual air. I-R0K pulled you back to the matter at hand; “You’re a little late to the party don’t you think-!?” You didn’t even regard him properly, eyes flicking across, face hardened; “Shut your damn mouth. I got here didn’t I-!? Thought you boys wouldn’t need my help. Thank me later.” Then as a snarky aside, “This is all on you, I guess? A lot of good your plan did-!” “It woulda been fine. It’s your company that was infiltrated.” You did actually turn to Nolan then, arms folded, “HIS company.” Nolan looked a little affronted, but held his tongue. You knew he wasn’t about to chide you for being here. Looking between them again you couldn’t help but smirk; “I see your little orb didn’t work.” “It was taken down from the inside.” “...Exactly.” That still counted, you didn’t know why I-R0K was trying to pretend that it didn’t. “That’s not my fault.” “No one thought to just turn it back on?” They looked to each other and you realised it’d never crossed anyone’s mind, “Oh god, men!“ You ran your hand over your face; “So. What happened?” Nolan came in to defend his old friend from your onslaught – painfully aware of how much you didn’t get on; “It’s not exactly on him, my rig did get hacked.” You raised an eyebrow, “You still using that ridiculous password?” “Yeah.” His eyes flickered gold. “You still got it on a post-it?” “No.” His answer was far too quick, voice pitched slightly, and you sighed folding your arms once more, “I told you to change it.” It sounded like something a teen would use anyway - Bo55man69? Who was Nolan Sorrento kidding? “I… I was getting to it!” He stuttered as you gave him a hard look. “Little late for that... if you two idiots will excuse me!” Then you finally regarded the third man in the room looking between you utterly confused, yet still on the floor where you’d left him. Best not to leave him unchecked for long – you could bicker with these boys all day, it wouldn’t win Nolan the final key. “Now, Parzival, where were we?” The teen stood on his feet, he had a couple of tricks left, he knew that – maybe back up would even arrive. In fact, he was sure that if he just swept you from the equation it wouldn’t be so hard to take out the other two. Parzival leant around you to regard the Cataclyst, half buried in snow. Maybe he could use that as leverage, Sorrento might not care about setting foot in here again, but he surely wanted control. He wasn’t sure you and the other one would be best pleased about the prospect of Zeroing out. You followed his eyeline, and in that split second where your concentration wasn’t on him, he darted forward; “Oh no, you don’t!” Nolan dodged to the side, which was kinda unhelpful, because he was a lot bigger than both of you so could probably have taken a decent hit with his Avatar no problem. But, sure, instead he was content to watch you scrap with a kid over the most destructive device in the OASIS. You dragged Parzival back across the ice, letting your wings do most of the (literal) heavy lifting. “Why are you making this so hard-!?” “I can’t give up!! Not for everyone that actually knows a damn thing about what this place stands for!” You laughed, dropping him and firmly positioning yourself between Nolan, the Cataclyst and him. “Trust me, you’re only seeing what you want to see about the OASIS. You’re only seeing what you want to see about Nolan too, but you’re also a man running out of time. You can leave, right now, you can stand down. Parzival you have choices.” “I’ll NEVER let the OASIS fall into the hands of IOI.” You weren’t exactly sure how he was going to get out of it, but if he wanted to continue to fight you, you were down with that. “Suit yourself, but when this ends – remember I gave you the choice.” He came at you again, and this time you knew the only option was to take him out. *** For just a moment you let yourself regard Parzival sympathetically. In all honestly you got it, why everyone had gathered here to stop IOI from swallowing up their favourite pastime. But their perspective was what they saw, IOI and its loyalty centres. Your husband, the face and the front of that. On any other given day, you’d be on the other side fighting him and you knew that. You were painfully aware of it. But you knew him; you knew you couldn’t change the company and Nolan needed the support of IOI to get to this point. Maybe Loyalty would go, maybe it would stay – maybe when he got what he wanted, you could persuade Nolan to do anything. But he needed this. For what the OASIS had done to his family, he needed this more than the kid standing in front of you. And that was your only thought. “Sorry, kid.” And you meant it as you delivered that final blow. Parzival zeroed. For him, the game was over. There was eerie silence for a minute and you looked to the floor, feeling solemn, folding your wings away again. That would weigh heavily on you for weeks, you knew. From across the field the two men watched you in disbelief. You had actually done it. IOI was guaranteed the win. After all that, Nolan Sorrento only had to clear the final challenge. “How is my wife more badass than me?” Nolan murmured, shaking his head slow. “Well I don’t really think it’s that hard-!” He glared at I-R0K momentarily, eyes sparking back to that gold, before you spoke up. “Leave.” “What?” You didn’t even look across to I-R0K, “Your job is done here and I want you gone.” “Are you kidding me!?” “Unless you want to zero out too.” Your eyes were harsh and cold, and despite the obvious grumble Nolan nudged his friend, nodding in agreement. “You got me this far, old friend… You’ll be well paid.” You received a glare, before he jabbed a finger at you, “Don’t you DARE mess this up-!” and with that, logged out of the game. Now alone, you regarded Nolan properly for the first time since you got here. You wanted to run to him, but you knew it wasn’t over. You still had to beat the challenge and get the key. “Where are you?” He spoke first. “Downstairs.” You gave a little nod, “Andrew with you?” “…Yes.” At least his security was there, that seemed important to you. Even if the fight was in the OASIS. “You came all the way here… for me?” You titled your head, Nolan already knew his own answer, it was his lack of belief that got you; “I couldn’t let you do this alone. Not after what I saw.” “Guess I should have let you come.” “Well…” You smiled gently, “I’m here for you now.” *** You both stood in front of the final problem, with you looking for a final solution. They had won it and still failed, that wasn’t the key. It had to be something so Halliday and so out there, that it was so obvious… that’s what made it so hard. Nolan was a little less patient with you; “So how do you beat it? If it’s not about... winning?” You looked up to him, with a raised eyebrow. How exactly was he going to run the OASIS again? Maybe you’d be best zeroing him and winning it all for yourself. “Boy, you still got a long way to go.” You nudged him gently with your elbow and went back to studying the game hard; “It’s the right game we know that - the ice broke after a minute for everything else except for this one. But winning can’t be the objective.” Then it clicked; “Oh-! Of course.” “Of course what?” He was still clueless. You were trying to imagine the OASIS full of all Nolan’s favourite pop culture references instead. You didn’t think you’d find yourself complaining at all the 90s/00s obscurities somehow. As long as he kept Tron – or it’d be divorce. Instead you pointed to the retro TV; “The whole damn competition is about Easter Eggs and this game... was the first one.” You picked up the controller with a smile, “It’s about finding the Easter Egg-! Literally!” Nolan tipped his head, curiously, as you continued to explain, “Warren Robinett hid his name on the start screen, sort of, back in a time when creators didn’t get shit for things they worked so hard on...” you nodded back towards Nolan, “Kinda think you’d know a little about that.” Glad it wouldn’t show up on his OASIS avatar, Nolan’s faced burned slightly at your mention of his Gregarious days. He didn’t have to say anything though, his eyes had a habit of changing colour to give away his emotions and they’d flicked back to gold. “So, you can beat it?” “If that’s the answer, yeah!” You gave a single confident nod, coupled with a gentle smile And for once he smiled too, one so beautifully genuine all you wished was that you were seeing it on his actual face; “You’re a star!” “Oh no.” You shook your head firmly; “Your Oologists found the game, they deserve the credit. They deserve a hell of a lot - let’s be honest here!” And you’d make sure they got it, you did always like checking in on the kids and asking them about their latest piece of Halliday trivia whenever you happened to be kicking around HQ. You swallowed hard; “Okay, Noe, lets just hope I’m right!” *** The gravitas of the moment demanded you to stare up at Halliday’s avatar with a certain level of respect. It felt too wrong to be right. But you knew the man you’d married, and hopefully this would give him just the opportunity needed to show more than only you who he really was. You bowed your head, before stepping forward to take the Crystal Key delicately as it was offered. Voice soft as you bit your lip. “Thank you…” As you did so, the ice before the both of you cracked, raising from it a door of the same gem stone. You hopped down from the podium and back across to your husband, who was staring at the door with the same type of hesitation. You noticed his hand was over his heart – because even in Nolan’s haptics he would be able to feel that wedding ring digging into his skin, transferred to his shirt pocket when he wasn’t wearing his jacket. You couldn’t help your little smile at how absentminded and soft it was. He wasn’t even thinking about the OASIS when he was sitting in his office doing that. “Is this really happening?” “Uh huh.” You looked to the door, “Let’s go see what’s really waiting on the other side.” “Y/N- Wait-!” But you were already jumping across the ice path towards it and Nolan had no choice than to follow you to the door. Three holes for the three keys; yours were his and you took a step back from him. But he was still hesitant. “What?” “After all this, I just can’t…” “Honey…” You took his hand and made him look back to you, “You’ve wanted this for five years.” You looked back to the final key in your hand, taking a deep breath, “This is what you came for.” “What if I do the wrong thing?” “I know you.” You held the Crystal Key out for him, “You won’t.” Nolan took it from you gently, opening his inventory for the other two, Copper, then Jade… before he looked back to the Crystal one and paused again. You wondered what was happening around you, mass cheering? Were people upset? Your focus was Nolan, everything else was drowned out. Everyone knew what the official line for the plan was. Could the man you loved go ahead with it, that was the question – even if it was only on your lips. You regarded him for a minute, key in one hand, your fingers laced with his other and you wondered if he would really go through with it. Nolan had long had issues with the OASIS; it was in part responsible for the death of his sister, and he also held the belief that people spent far too long escaping the problems of the real world here instead of facing the ones outside. Now he truly had the keys to the Kingdom - would Nolan Sorrento shut it all down? Would he monetise it? He pandered that one to board and shareholders alike, but could he really go through with such a thing? You didn’t like to guess that he could - but making it exclusive to those that could afford it wouldn’t solve his problem. Those that could afford it would be pivotal in fixing the world, after all.

Nolan glanced to you and exhaled, squeezing your hand a little tighter, he’d dreamt of shutting this down since he’d lost her. And that’s what he really talked to you about in the dead of night curled up in your arms when no one else could hear. He gave a firm nod and turned back towards the door “Okay. Let’s do this...” Then looked back to you, placing your avatar’s hand over his, “You got me here, Y/N. So I won’t do this without you.” You could feel yourself start to well up, you weren’t one for crying and usually you’d curse yourself. But this once you’d let them come. “Nolan…” I love you. I love you too. I love you SO much. He gave a nod of encouragement, and a gentle smile – you returned both. “On my count…”

Whatever came next, and whatever Nolan chose to do here - you’d do it together.

---

15/16! Woo hoo! We’re there! One more to go and we’ve done it!! 😁

Thank you for reading and enjoying these so much so far! Hopefully we’ll go out with a bang! 😉💙

[lysissisyl]

I wrote a thing for an event on Twitter. I had 48 hours to write 1000 words, following the themes they gave me. That was quite challenging for me, but I tried. I’ll post it here too.

———————————————————————

Edelgard groaned when the light hit her eyes. She had no way to know for sure, but she could feel it was far earlier than usual. She stared at Byleth, the look on her face in between irritation and curiosity. Her wife was still by the window, pulling the tent to the side, a huge grin on her face. Curiosity won.

"What are you so excited about?" Her voice was still slurred.

The grin got larger. "You'll see!" She got back to the bed and gave her a quick kiss. "Now get up and get ready. Comfy cloth, good to walk and ride."

"Ride? Byleth, I'm the Emperor: I'm busy." She sighed. Byleth looked so enthusiastic. "Let me check my schedule. Whatever you have in mind, we'll find a day to do it."

Byleth handed her the planner, almost entirely covered in Hubert's neat calligraphy, a proud look on her face. She pointed at the current day, a big blank spot with only Byleth's name written in capitals in the middle. Someone - probably Dorothea - had added a big heart around it. Edelgard stared at her with the most confused look she had shown in months. "How...How could I not notice?" Then she got back to her usual controlled attitude. "What have you done? There are so many things I still need to fix. We won the war, but people are still suffering, there are cities to rebuild, alliances to secure, projects to discuss-"

"El?" Byleth's hand was on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "You won't rebuild an Empire in a day, and the world won't end if you stop and relax for a day. As for the planner..."

"As for the planner?" Edelgard asked, trying to sound annoyed.

A mischievous smile rose to Byleth's face. "Hubert and I may have made a copy with a busier schedule. I switched them yesterday evening."

Edelgard moved the blankets aside and sat, gazing at the world outside. A little, happy smile pursed her lips. "Just for a day..."

•~•~•~•

They had been riding for hours. Byleth had left the main roads for the woods halfway and Edelgard had no idea where they were anymore. She had studied all the maps before the war and now she was completely lost just a few miles away from her palace. How unnerving. She could't even exactly tell the direction, since the trees were too dense to see the sky and, therefore, the sun.

"Will you tell me where we're going?"

"No."

"Not even a hint?"

"No."

"You woke me up at dawn, urged me to get ready and made me ride for hours without a break: I deserve a hint."

"Are you sulking?"

"I'm not."

She was. Byleth laughed. Her laugh was still always a surprise. After the war, Byleth had changed, slowly at first, then more and more every day. She had started smiling, and crying sometimes; she had got more playful, warmer, and things had started to amaze her, like a kid discovering the world again. It was still rare to hear her laugh like that though, so carefree. Edelgard couldn't help a smile.

"You got better at dealing with nobles, showing kindness and expressing your feelings, but you definitely got worse at sulking," Byleth teased.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sure you would have been able to keep that pouty look on your face for much longer before we married."

Edelgard was ready to fight back, but the trees suddenly thinned out, revealing something she did't expect to see. A small lake. The shore was almost white and there were some white rocks surfacing here and there; its see-green waters were calm and silent. The idyllic scene took her breath away: so quiet, so peaceful, timeless. Then, she suddenly remembered she was going to say something witty; such a shame she couldn't remember what anymore. She gave the lake another look, then turned to Byleth and noticed she had got off her horse and was taking something from her saddle bag. She frowned. "Byleth, if you brought me here to fish, I swear to-" She stopped mid sentence when Byleth started unwrapping dishes and cutlery.

"I remember you like picnics. This won't be full of sweets, because we still have some riding to do and you would regret it, but I promise you'll like it."

El chuckled. Only Byleth could do something so romantic and make such a practical statement at the same time.

She got off her horse as well, made a knot to the reins, so that it wouldn't trip over them, and started helping Byleth set everything up.

It wasn't the crazy, romantic picnic, she had dreamed of years before: it was unpretentious, simple, but full of care and love. She didn't feel like a princess: she felt like an adventurer, exploring the world with the one she loved. Her kid self would have screamed with joy. She almost did.

There wasn't more food than what could fit in a saddle bag, but almost all her favorites were there. She wondered if this was what Jeralt did for Byleth on her birthdays or after the hardest battles; maybe he looked for some good food and a peaceful place. Both things sure felt like treasures to a mercenary.

•~•~•~•

Byleth hadn't lied: they had some more riding to do, even if not much. They followed the riverside for around an hour and reached a clearing; in the middle was a small wood and stone cottage. It took Edelgard a few seconds to see what was weird: the structure reminded her of a hunting cabin, but it looked more refined. Someone had added a tiny porch, a fence, two rocking chairs, a small table. The windows had colorful shutters and flower pots, and those flowers were carnations.

She turned to face Byleth, but her wife spoke first. "My father used to bring me here. This was a safe place to be if we needed to stay near the capital. It obviously wasn't this fancy at the time: I made some...adjustments. I wanted a place for us, in case you needed a break from the life in the palace. I thought..." She averted her eyes, something unusual for her. Uncertainty and fear were new too.

"You thought?"

She took a deep breath. "I thought we could live here someday, when the Empire will be the place you dreamed of, when you'll be able to retire and just be El again."

El's eyes filled with tears.

"Are you crying?"

"I'm not."

Byleth laughed again. "Here's something else you didn't get better at."

———————————————————————

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646390

[pertinax--loculos]

Weekly Update 29/08

Note: shaking up the format this week, mostly because I just can't stop talking. These updates are gonna become purely about draft progress -- I'm going to include the titles of the books I've read/am reading at the end, but will post my thoughts separately as something of a 'review' (which will likely just be a collation of my stream-of-consciousness thoughts. Or just those thoughts unedited, depending how I feel). I'm also going to post the excerpt in a dedicated post of its own, so keep an eye out for that! ;)

Currently Writing Absent That Night (tagged: WIP: ATN)

wordcount this week:  19,981

total wordcount: 58,127(note: I know this jumped; it's because I realised that I was a week behind with adding to the total ooops)

[new addition] total time writing: 9hrs 10min

re: the above point -- I think this is a much more productive way of tracking my progress. As I've mentioned, I'm an egregious overwriter, so wordcount goals really don't motivate me too much (I could get 1000 words down and only be like a quarter of the way into the scene dear god help editing this is gonna be hellacious). So I think by scheduling time instead, it's going to force me to be a lot more productive and hopefully get me well on my way to my goal deadline!

re: deadline -- need to do a proper recalculation of where I actually am, because I think I'm a little bit behind. Something to do for next week, however!

I've also started pretty hardcore scheduling this week. It's kinda a mess due to my ridiculously inconsistent work schedule (and the way they often ask me like three hours beforehand if I want to take a shift), but it's great to have time blocked out for certain things. Definitely gonna continue it until this draft is finished, and then reassess whether I like it or whether I'd prefer something more flexible/any other adjustments

briefly considered/considering swapping to google docs for convenience's sake, but I am a) Wary of The Cloud and b) I am not using a writing app where I have to hit two buttons to get italics. I use far too many goshdarned italics to goshdarned do that fucking bullshit. The fact that text colour is still easily accessible but italics is not also makes me unreasonably angry

so instead I'm trying evernote. ^_^ Seems okay so far...?

[deleted a rant about evernote as well given that I figured out what was annoying me and we’re all good now 😅]

work is legit fucking killing me, man. The work itself is not too hard, but being essentially on-call (because I still don't have a roster so need to take the shifts in case I don't get others) makes scheduling so damn hard. I was literally halfway through a scene the other day when I had to stop and do Life Things before my unplanned shift. I'm thankful I have a job I can go to during lockdown, but dear lord I cannot wait until I know how many shifts I have and can a) plan around that and b) say fucking no if I want to

seriously considering dropping one of my suspect subplots. I keep forgetting about it, and the plan was always to dead-end it at the midpoint anyway. Plus I think including that one I have... seven? serious suspects, so could probably go with some simplifying. 😅 At the moment I'm thinking I'll leave it out, and if I think the next section needs the extra tension or anything I'll write as though it's there and add it in later if needed

honestly the difference between writing a scene I've had planned/been looking forward to and one which is only a vague notion/I've added because it's 'required' is stark. I just absolutely blow through the former, and sometimes it's like pulling teeth with the latter. But I am getting them done! They just take a right chunk of time sometimes. -.-

related to this, I really need to get my ass in gear with some scene-by-scene planning of Act II. Goal it to at least get some ideas for scenes jotted down for the first half this week!

think I do actually dislike writing at night. I've been forced to by work a couple times this week, and the problem is I stay up too late, and even then sometimes don't complete the scenes (which is generally my aim). But also, it puts my brain in Writing Mode, which not only makes it harder to sleep, but also generally results in my crafting beautiful sentences and even whole scenes whilst I'm trying to sleep that I promptly forget upon waking the next morning. Ugh

this week I also managed to stumble over some books that seem to fit the same genre as ATN. Not 100% on what that genre actually is (still) but there does seem to be a (niche?) area of paranormal/fantasy/crime/mystery-that-is-not-set-in-a-contemporary world (ie not exactly urban-fantasy/mystery). Definitely have added all the ones I've found so far to the reading list!

clearly I have hit the middle of this draft, because I've been hit hard by a Shiny New Idea. Amalgamating all the advice I've read on the subject, I've jotted down all my thoughts and put it to the side until I finish this damned draft first

ultimately, still having fun, still loving this world and all the characters, still loving attempting to work to a deadline. Everything is shiny and happy this week. ^_^ Let's hope it stays that way ahaha... ha.

 This week's goal: complete minimum five scenes; map out scene-by-scene guide for first half of Act II

As far as reading... current read: Midnight, Water City by Chris McKinney

finished Survive the Night by Riley Sager

[funigami-games]

What we got right and what not for our Visual Novel Game Jam: Build 0.5 build and progress report.

check out the full post and see all sprites here - https://funigami.itch.io/the-princes-heart/devlog/283383/what-we-got-right-and-what-not-for-our-visual-novel-game-jam-build-05-build-and-progress-report

The Prince’s Heart is practically our first “brainchild”. And although I hate the term “child” since video games aren't anyone's child, but nothing more than entertainment products, that's how we creators usually behave with them. Of course, our first complete video game as a team is Dragon Gazer, a small 1000-word visual novel game for the O2A2 jam, we consider The Prince’s Heart to be our first “actual” project since it’s complete in terms of narration, character design, and worldbuilding.

But, like most parents with their first newborn, we made some critical mistakes that we should have foreseen in terms of production and deadline, but well... we didn't, and that's a hard-earned lesson that we should keep in mind for our next projects.

What we got right and what not

We were lucky enough to have with us Jacob Wilson, the person responsible for the entire casting and scouting process. Every single voice-over in our game has been voice acted by aspiring and professional voice actors, and I really think that the result will be amazing. More about our cast can be found here.

A.C. Kass made the outline really quick and wrote the entire story on time, giving the rest of the team the much-needed time to do voice-overs, compositions, SFX, coding, and sprite design. In a couple of days, we had a 16,000-word script ready to be coded and implemented.

And that's where we failed to understand that the project would get out of hand, considering that it would be practically impossible for a single artist to have eight characters and eight backgrounds made in a relatively short amount of time, while at the same time we were completing our O2A2 jam project.

What we learned as a team, is that a project should be realistically and not wishfully approached when there's a deadline. We should have either scratched the O2A2 project or decrease the necessary amount of game assets for The Prince’s Heart, etc some of the lines could be unified with other characters to save us time.

The future of the project

Despite the ominous mood I might have prepared you for, the project is progressing fine. All primary characters are designed, but probably we’ll have to do an early release of the game with the majority of secondary characters in flats, along with will the backgrounds.

I really wanted for this project to have character animation (it would be really cool to have the characters breathe), but it's not realistically possible.

What do we have ready as of this moment?

As I said, all main characters (the protagonist and his two love interests) are fully rendered with a wide variety of poses and expressions. Here's a visual representation of what has been done in terms of characters so far.

Prince Edward (Fully Rendered Version)

David (Fully Rendered Version)

Michael (Fully Rendered Version)

Check the rest of our sprites here https://funigami.itch.io/the-princes-heart/devlog/283383/what-we-got-right-and-what-not-for-our-visual-novel-game-jam-build-05-build-and-progress-report

As for the backgrounds, we’re still a long way from finishing them. Recently, we had two artists joining us, but I don't think that the time will be enough to have all the backgrounds fully rendered by the deadline. All we've done so far are sketches.

In terms of compositions, our composer has practically made a single track for every scene. SFX is still in production state, and we’ll probably have them in the next few days.

The voice acting is nearly complete, and I'm really proud of our voice actors. I'm a firm believer that if you can’t have proper voice acting for your game, it's better not to have at all. All of the VAs have done an amazing job, and I think that you’ll like what we have.

The scripting is 100% completed and transitions around 90% complete. Although I implemented everything, I still find things here and there that need to be adjusted as I alpha test the game. If things go as scheduled, all the transitions will be complete in two days from now (by August 15th).

Last but not least, our GUI is halfway there and will probably be completed by August 20th.

In conclusion, some things worked, some didn't, but we learned a bunch of stuff as a team from this project. What matters is for you, the players, to enjoy our game once it releases. We are looking forward for your feedback, and we’re thankful for your support and love!

[ckret2]

@deluxetrashqueen submitted:

I have had Morbie/Venom kind of ideas kicking around for a while and I feel like I’m never going to actually get to writing them in fic format so I’ll just spill them here because you’re one of the only other Morbie/Venom shippers (it’s a background/not very serious kind of ship for me that I ship kind of equally romantically as platonically but still) I know of.  Basically that Eddie would find Morbius caught out in the sun and passed out and he’d take him back to the sewers or wherever they’re living and Morbs would wake up and drink some blood they have in a clearly not medical grade blood bag(it’s probably like, a ziplock). He would notice it tasted strange besides just being a little coagulated from the improper bag. “And what poor soul do I think for my meal?” “It’s none but our own, but you may thank us if you wish. We apologize for not having a more uh…air tight receptacle for it.” “Yours? I supposed that explains….nevermind.” (he realizes that the taste is inhuman)

In exchange, later he brings them some chocolates in the shape of brains.  “Haha! Adorable! Where on earth did you find these?“  “I uh…ahem…I actually…made them myself.” “An artist and scientist! We’re more impressed with you every day, Morbie.” “Ah..well uh…I mean…I just filled an ice cube mold. No artistry, really! You do me far too much credit.” Venom puts one on their tongue and draws it into their mouth. “You do yourself far too little. It–” Venom cuts off shivers, then spits the chocolate out in a panic. “It-! It tastes…it tastes like–!” “I-I synthesized some chemicals I know that you gain sustenance from, adrenaline, epinephrine, dopamine. I-I only thought perhaps it would be more…that you would prefer…dear god how careless of me! The shape was tasteless I beg you, forgive–” “You’ve done nothing wrong, Micheal. They’re…incredible. That’s the problem. I suppose we had not realized we’d found solace in the idea that it had only been misidentification. In the idea that the replacement was, to us, no different so long as it contained the singular thing we require. It is…jarring…to so suddenly be confronted with the fact that…we do still prefer the real thing.” And they’d talk about the idea that they could more easily rationalize their hungers when it was simply a need, but became incredibly uncomfortable and shameful when admitting, even to themselves, any kind of preference. The idea of preferring it a certain way implied pleasure and felt more sinful because of it.

At some point Eddie would offer for Morbius to feed off of them. That way we didn’t have to worry about hurting innocent people to sustain himself. Morbius would be hesitant but eventually agree, hoping he can control himself. Of course, halfway through, he realizes he can not longer force himself to stop and begins to panic, fearing he’ll kill this new friend he’s come to care for more than he expected. Again he feels he’s going to drain someone he cares so much for because he cannot help his hunger, but Venom just eventually pulls him off, gently. The symbiote can simply form back over Eddie’s neck, forcing Morbius’ fangs out. Morbius is incredibly relieved to have done them no harm.  They’d work out a system of trading chemically infused chocolates for blood, both silently and carefully trying to cater to the other’s tastes, Morbius through synthesizing different amounts of different chemicals, Venom by changing the chemical makeup of Eddie’s blood. Morbius is the best fed and healthiest he’s been since he became a living vampire. The hunger is a shadow of its former self. Then, one night, he’d somehow run into someone who was bleeding heavily and he gets a full lung-full of the scent of blood. The scene would cut out and cut to Eddie back in the sewers or apartment or wherever. Morbius would enter, head hung low so his face can’t be seen easily, and sobbing. Venom would be concerned and rush to him.

Morbius would explain that he’d run into someone bleeding, something that always caused him to lose control. He would fall forward into Eddie’s arms, but then Eddie realizes he’s hugging him.

Morbius looks up and Eddie would see that his face is clean of blood and he’s smiling. The tears are of joy.

“I did nothing, Eddie! I helped them, even! Help bind their wounds and bring them to a hospital. I…I did not lose myself! Kept so well at bay, the hunger could not consume me! And I owe it to you, Eddie!” And they’d just have a great system that helps both of them to keep their own hungers at bay and also be understood by someone who shares those experiences. Micheal stops feeling so desperate to cure himself and instead begins to just treat his affliction and learn to accept himself through seeing how Venom loves and accepts themselves and from there it could bloom into a full romance.

Sorry to just dump all this in an unorganized heap but I was afraid I’d never share it with anyone otherwise. You don’t have to publish this, it was just too long to send as asks.

––––––––––

I already went “YOOO THIS IS AMAZING” at you when you sent this but now I’m on my computer and I can post it, which I AM gonna do, because it’s amazing and more people oughta see this. It’s like a spectacular 30k fanfic packed into under 1000 words. The feelings over their respective hungers! The tension when Morbius runs into someone bleeding and then the plot twist! The heartwarming ending! Thank you for this gift.

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (126/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[20 July, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

"Okay, so Treekul's in a bad spot. She should have been more careful about who she got mixed up with. Yeah, and she shouldn't have been so eager to run off on another quest. But that's what makes Treekul cool, you know? Other alchemical historians? They just sit in libraries all day, poring over dusty holo-fiches. But Treekul goes out and finds things. And for once, she had backup. Two Saiyans, Lesseri and Endive, and then we picked up a third, Guwar. With their support, I could discover all sorts of artifacts."

Treekul stopped, shook her head, and gestured to slow down. "I mean she could discover," she said. "Sorry. My therapist always told me this works better if I refer to myself in the third person. You'd think I'd be used to this by now, but I-- but Treekul's under a little more stress than usual. Like I said, it was handy to have three Saiyans backing her up, even if they only wanted her to find things for them, at least she knew no one would mess with her. And she scored some decent leads along the way. There's a treasure trove of artifacts in that penthouse on Quadzityz, assuming it survived the war. Lesseri and Endive killed the owner and wrecked the security systems, and most of that stuff isn't even valuable to anyone else. Nothing to stop Treekul from walking in and helping herself. Another paper for the academic journals. If she ever makes it out of this mess, that is."

She began to pace back and forth around her modest living quarters. The strips of red fabric that made up her "robes" trailed behind her legs as she walked.

"The Saiyans were looking for a cult," she continued. "And Treekul heard it was named after 'jindan', an alchemical term for mercuric sulfide. Or, rather, the fundamental principle that mercuric sulfide represents. So she saw an opportunity and agreed to help them find this cult, using her expertise with a geomantic compass. Guwar was a mathematician, if you can believe that, so he helped out with the calculations. He was a really nice guy. Bit of an inferiority complex, but I get the feeling that goes for every Saiyan."

She stopped herself again. "Not 'was', 'is'. Guwar is a nice guy," she said. "Just because no one's told me what happened to him doesn't necessarily mean he got killed in the war. It's just... Treekul could really use his help right now. Or even if he can't help, it'd be nice if he were here to listen to her, like he did back on the ship, before they found the Jindan cult.

"Turns out the cult was real all along, and they leave just enough bread crumbs out there so that other Saiyans can find them. Their leader is the Saiyan King, Rehval III, but here, he calls himself 'Trismegistus', a reference to the Thrice Blessed alchemist from ancient writings. Rehval seems to think he's uncovered some great secret, something that makes him the greatest alchemist ever, and from what I've seen, he might be right about that. His Jindan potion makes Saiyans even stronger, and he must have thousands of them working for him. Only trouble is that they have to give up their free will. Rehval tells them what to eat, when to sleep, they all have sex in some 'breeding pit' thing that I don't even want to think about..."

She paused to rub the bridge of her nose, then ran her hand over the short green hair on her lavender scalp. It was normally a satisfying feeling for her, but not this time, her hair was too long for that by now.

"The others all did whatever Rehval told them to. All they cared about was power. They brought Treekul here, and no one was interested in how she got home. No payday, no paper, no treasure trove of artifacts. Instead, Rehval decided to keep her as some sort of alien pet. He thinks he can train her to be an alchemist, and so far he hasn't done too bad a job of it, at least when he's not creeping on her. It makes me... It makes her want to scream. But that's okay. It's okay for her to be frightened. She's never been this afraid, and she's got good reason to be."

She stopped pacing and looked intently in the direction of her bed. "So here's the good news. Treekul has options. Sure, she's not any closer to getting off this planet than when she first arrived, but she hasn't been wasting time either. Treekul didn't get this far without being resourceful. She can be absolutely terrified and still get herself out of this. That's what makes her strong."

She went to a small writing desk along the wall of her room and picked up a scroll. It carried a faint odor of rotten eggs and olefins. "Rehval's convinced that she'll become his apprentice, I guess ruling over the Saiyans like a god isn't enough for him, he wants to pass down his knowledge of alchemy. Well, fine. If he's as talented as he says he is, maybe he'll show Treekul a little more than he should. Something she can use to get out of here. For instance, this scroll belonging to Mirdane talks about disguising yourself perfectly, even down to smell and ki signature. If Treekul can get good enough at alchemy to figure that out, she could walk right up to the shipyard and be halfway to the next star system before anyone knew she was missing.

"I know what you're thinking: Treekul's a quick study, but she's an archaeologist who studies alchemists, not an alchemist herself, so maybe that plan is little too ambitious. Fair point. Which is why she's been working other angles. The boss wants her to play one of his priestesses, right? He's dressed her up in a cocktail dress that went through a blender. Well, that gives her access to all his brainwashed goons, and all that undeserved authority that comes with it. She hasn't heard from the acolytes who offered to show me around the hangar, but they seemed pretty enthusiastic about it. Don't worry, when they finally take her on the tour, Treekul won't spend too much time there, just enough to get a feel for the place when it's time for her to snoop around by herself.

"And if that doesn't pan out there's always Endive. Too bad about her. For a while there, I was sure she'd turn on the boss. From what I hear, Rehval does something to the cultist's memories, so they don't recognize him as the king, even of they knew him before when he ruled Planet Saiya. At some point Endive must have found out that "Trismegistus" is the same guy who killed her father, but she doesn't seem to care. He's been using her for one of his casual sex hookups for weeks now. I thought..."

She stopped and took a seat in her chair, then looked down at the red flats on her feet. "I just thought-- Treekul thought Endive was smarter than that. She was so disciplined and focused. You'd think she wouldn't be so easily manipulated, but... she's become completely devoted to him, and the scariest thing is that you can tell she knows it's wrong. But enough about her. If Endive and Lesseri won't help Treekul, then Treekul needs to forget about them."

She stood up and started pacing again. "Speaking of sex... Treekul doesn't want to go down that road, but she has to keep it in mind. Rehval has his followers convinced that he needs a rotation of women to share his bed. Something about 'balancing his bodily humors', but I think we all know he just wants to have a good time. He wants Treekul for some reason. All those women at his beck and call, and he wants the one woman on the planet who isn't interested. It's like he's waiting for her to fall madly in love with him. Yeah, good luck with that. Still... if she's going to earn his trust, she need to play along with his expectations. Maybe she ought to flirt a little, so he'll think his plan is working. He's not exactly unattractive, it's the whole 'delusions of grandeur' thing that's a turn-off."

Treekul stopped and crossed her arms as she looked at the bed. "Here's the problem. If she's not careful, he'll probably get bored with her and have her brainwashed like everyone else on this planet. Or he'll just kill her for being an alien. On the other hand, if she's too careful, and Treekul waste too much time playing the eager disciple, the he won't need to brainwash her, because she'll basically be doing it for him. Ugh! What a fix."

"Um, were you finished?"

"Huh?"

The Saiyan man lying on her bed had sat up and pointed to his ears, which were stuffed with wax. "I'm on duty in ten minutes," he said. "Unless you need me to stay here..."

Treekul gestured at her own ears for him to remove the wax, and so he did.

"Yeah, all finished," she said. "You were amazing, Zhoybok."

"It's an honor, madam priestess," he said as he rose from the bed, "but I really don't understand your species' mating practices. You didn't even touch me the whole time."

"Oh, you don't remember any of it, then?" Treekul asked in mock concern. "I guess the psychic vibrations must have been beyond your comprehension. That happens with aliens who lack the secret eighth sense my people have. You probably just hallucinated me pacing around and talking to myself."

Zhoybok was astonished. "As a matter of fact, I did!"

"To tell you the truth, a lot of my kind frown on this sort of thing. They think it's perverse to have this level of intimacy with life forms who can't experience it properly. But for me, I think that's part of the thrill. It's so... savage, don't you think?"

Zhoybok wasn't sure what to say, but he wasn't interested in disputing the words of a priestess, so he accepted her compliments and excused himself. Once he was gone, Treekul shook her head and lay down on the bed. Lying was tiring work, even to someone as gullible as Zhoybok.

"I really need to get more comfortable about talking to myself," she said.

*******

[20 July, 233 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

There were only four people aboard Luffa's star-yacht, which now criss-crossed the worlds of the Federation in a frantic effort to keep pace with the Jindan Cult's attacks. The Federation defenses were spread thin, and if any invading ship managed to land on a planet, there were few who could stand up to the alchemically-empowered Saiyans inside. Luffa was getting better at fighting them, but their numbers were beginning to take a toll on her body. Dr. Topsas, her personal physician, had found ways to heal her in time for the next battle, while the clairvoyant Dotz had proven handy at predicting attacks before they happened, so Luffa could plan her travel. The fourth passenger on board, Zatte, was Luffa's wife, and she was beginning to wonder if she served any useful purpose here at all.

"That's ridiculous," Wampaaan'riix said when she shared her frustrations with him over the subspace radio. The Yetitan looked as enormous as ever, despite the desktop monitor scaling down his nine-foot-tall frame. "You practically operate the entire ship by yourself."

"So did Keda," Zatte said. She was rubbing the muscles in her arms and legs while she spoke to him. "And she did it better than I ever could."

"And you find no honor in succeeding a fallen comrade?" Wampaan'riix asked.

"It's not enough," Zatte said. "Keda didn't recognize Luffa as a xan-nil'Dor. For her, Luffa was a friend, and sort of a business partner, I guess you could say. For me, she's my wife, and an instrument of Providence. I have to do better. Especially now."

It was almost impossible to read his expressions through the coat of long white hair that covered most of his face, but the way Wampaaan'riix narrowed his eyes was unmistakable. "You're not thinking of going with her into the field?" he asked warily.

"I already have," Zatte said. "At first it seemed to be just what I wanted. I'd set up somewhere safe and shoot down cultists to keep them off Luffa's back. Trouble is, she took it as a challenge. Lately, she's been making it her business to take out the enemy before I can get a shot off. And that's romantic and all, but--"

"You two are insane," Wampaaan'riix grumbled.

"Look, I have to be there for her," Zatte said. She had moved on to stretching her hamstrings. "She's fighting a war against her own kind. Even the Saiyans on our side don't fully trust her. She doesn't let it show, but I know how much it eats at her. I can't imagine what it would be like to fight other Dorluns."

"I agree, she needs your support," Wampaaan'riix said. "But if you keep pushing yourself you may not be there when she needs it the most. This Dotz woman. She can predict the enemy attacks, can't she? Why not ask her for help? If she can tell Luffa where to go and when, then she can do the same for you, right?"

"That's the problem," Zatte said. "Dotz can't see Luffa's fate, only the planets and battles that lie ahead. We only know Luffa will get involved when Luffa decides to intervene."

"Strange, but even if that's true, why not see what Dotz can read about your own future?" Wampaaan'riix suggested. "I'm surprised you haven't already. You're a survivalist after all."

"I... I can't," Zatte said. She rose from the foam mat on the deck of her cabin and approached the desk.

"Well why not?" Wampaaan'riix asked. "It can't be a moral objection. You seem to have no problem with any of Dotz' other readings."

"Look, I... I have to go. I'll call you back, okay?"

"Just promise me you'll do it in the daytime," Wampaaan'riix groaned. "I know you've been in space a long time, but my den is on a different day-night cycle than--"

She hastily switched off the monitor, and a second later Luffa entered the cabin.

"I set the slow cooker for three hours," Luffa said as she rubbed her hands together. "How long before we get to Dodjem?"

"Tomorrow morning," Zatte said. They met in the center of the cabin and embraced.

"Dotz thinks there'll be ten Jindan Saiyans there," Luffa said with a smile. "Should be interesting."

"I'm going with you," Zatte insisted.

"Oh, I can handle ten," Luffa assured her.

"Then I'll watch you through my scope," Zatte said. "Or I'll shoot a few down for you, but either way, I'm coming along."

"Heh. Okay. You worry too much, you know that?"

"Someone has to," Zatte said. "Dotz still can't see your future, you know."

"Well, her other predictions are getting better," Luffa said. "On Shoust IV, she managed to get an accurate count on the enemy. She even located them to within a one mile radius. I think her powers are really coming along."

"Yeah, but she can't see your future."

"Does that still bother you?" Luffa asked.

Zatte tightened her grip on Luffa's torso and swung her onto the nearby bed. A moment later, she was had climbed on top of Luffa, planting her hands on her shoulders.

"No, it doesn't," Zatte said. "Not anymore."

"I'm not sure how to respond to that," Luffa said with a grin.

"I thought about it," Zatte said after giving her a long kiss. "I prayed about it too. Is it all right if I light some candles?"

"Uh, sure, knock yourself out," Luffa said.

Zatte rolled off of Luffa and went to a storage cabinet on the other side if her cabin. She removed four candles and laid them on the floor in a trapezoid formation surrounding the bed. After she lit each one, she got back in bed and knelt beside Luffa.

"Is the scent too much for you?" Zatte asked. "I know how sensitive your nose is."

"It's fine," Luffa said. "Smells kind of nice, really."

"It's not exactly sacred," Zatte said. The incense is just to keep insects away during religious observances. It makes me feel closer to Providence, though. So does this."

She placed her hand on Luffa's neck, and rested her thumb where she could take her pulse. The she took a deep breath and muttered something in her native language.

"Uh, what's going on here, exactly?" Luffa asked.

"I realized that I was letting Dotz' abilities cloud my faith in you," Zatte said. "I promised myself that I wouldn't ask her to read my future. I was worried that she might find out that I end up living without you somehow."

"I won't leave you, Zattie," Luffa said. "We've had our ups and downs, but you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"I have to trust that," Zatte said. "That's why I can't let Dotz's predictions bother me. She's getting better at them, but not when it comes to you. That scared me for a while, so I started meditating on it."

"Go on," Luffa said carefully.

"I came to realize that it makes sense that Dotz can't see your fate, because you're part of the Divine Plan. If she knew what you were going to do and when, then it would be like she was seeing into the mind of Providence."

"Or maybe I'm just so powerful that my ki interferes with her readings," Luffa suggested.

"Sure, that could be all it is," Zatte said. "But I like the version that supports my fanatic devotion to you."

She leaned over to kiss Luffa, still taking her pulse as they embraced. Luffa pulled away gently, and shook her head.

"You know how uncomfortable I get with this stuff," she said.

"I know," Zatte said. "But you keep getting hurt out there, and Dotz doesn't know what will happen next, so this is how I cope."

"I mean, you tell me I'm like God's righteous bludgeon or something, but the other night you... well, it was great, but maybe it was sacrilegious?"

Zatte straddled Luffa again, and held down her shoulders. "It's okay," she said. "Sex is a consecration ritual in my culture."

"Oh yeah?" Luffa asked.

"Dorluns value survival. People don't usually have sex while they're being chased by predators. They do it when they're safe and secure. And it can bring about new life."

"Huh. Maybe that's why my own people are so uptight about it," Luffa said. "In public, I mean. I've always had... ah!... mixed feelings about being safe."

"It's all in how you look at it. We're flying through a vacuum, faster than the speed of light, through a war zone, on a pleasure craft with no crew. And we're not exactly dressed for action right now. But if you're still bored, I'll... mmph!... I'll see if I can keep you amused for a while."

*******

[21 July, 233 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

The battle on Dodjem went as smoothly as could be expected. Dotz' prophecies were mostly accurate, and Luffa was able to surprise the enemy before they noticed her ship. They fought back ferociously, and Luffa's right shoulder was scorched by a ki attack, but Dr. Topsas was confident that he could heal this in a matter of days. Dodjem was liberated in less than two hours, and Luffa proceeded on her way to the next battle Dotz had predicted, in the Ryllax System.

"Careful," Luffa said, guiding Zatte's hand away from her banadaged shoulder. She had set up the slow cooker once again, and the two of them had convened in Zatte's cabin.

"Does it hurt?" Zatte asked as she gingerly lifted Luffa's blood-stained shirt over her head and other arm.

"Sure it hurts, but that's not the point," Luffa said. "Doc'll really be sore if you mess up his bandanges."

"It's a wonder the whole ship isn't full of this stuff," Zatte said. She tossed the shirt at the laundry receptacle, but it hit the rim and fell out instead. "I mean, where does he put it all after he cuts it off of you?"

"He eats it," Luffa said.

"You're kidding."

"No, seriously. I've seen him do it. He makes all of these bandages from his own webbing. It takes a lot of protein to make that work, so he doesn't like to waste it."

"I had no idea," Zatte said. "You think you know a guy... whuh--!"

Luffa pulled her close with her good arm. "Forget about him for now. I wanted to talk about that shot you took back on Dodjem."

Zatte's expression shifted from genuine surprise to feigned innocence. "Oh, did that bother you, darling?"

"I thought one of those Jindan bastards found you," Luffa said. "I had one of them wide open, ready to kill, and I had to pass it up so I could chase the other one down before he found you."

"He had no idea where I was hiding," Zatte boasted.

"I know," Luffa said. "Even I couldn't find you. How am I supposed to watch your back if I don't even know where you are? You're taking a big risk out there, you know that, right?"

"That's the way," Zatte said. "Talk dirty to me."

"Oh, I'll do more than talk before I'm through with you," Luffa said with a grin. "I'll-- dammit..."

She rolled away from Zatte and drew her arms to her chest.

"Let me see," Zatte said.

"It's nothing," Luffa insisted. "Just give me a minute."

"Let me see," Zatte insisted back. Luffa made an irritated grunt, but didn't resist when Zatte took her hands in her own.

"I was starting to think your hands had stopped trembling," Zatte said as she massaged Luffa's palms. It didn't actually do anything to improve the situation, but it made them both feel better when she did this. "I haven't seen you stuff them in your pockets much lately."

"It's... it's not as bad as it used to be," Luffa said. "I haven't been able to spend a lot of time with Katem, but I think it still helps. Maybe it's all your prayers."

"He's kind of a hot mess," Zatte said.

"Just like his mom, huh?" Luffa chuckled.

"You're not a bad mother, Luffa. What happened wasn't your fault."

"I know," Luffa said. "It doesn't help much, but I know."

"You're still worked up about Fytpall, aren't you?" Zatte asked.

"I've seen worse in my time," Luffa said.

"Maybe, but you were pretty shaken up when you came back from that one," Zatte said. "You don't usually stick around and see what the civilians are going through."

"I'm just... I'm not strong enough, Zattie. I know that sounds stupid coming from me, but I know I could do better than this. If I was just a little better, I could..."

"You're good enough, okay? And maybe you can get stronger, but you can't just get there instantly. It's like you always tell me when we spar."

Luffa didn't say anything, but her heavy sigh was response enough. Zatte continued to rub her thumbs into the scars on Luffa's hands.

"You don't have to be tough for me," Zatte said. "It's okay. It's okay."

Soon enough, the tremors in Luffa's hands subsided, and they went back to what they were doing, although the mood had shifted from flirtation to comfort. Within thirty minutes, their clothes lay on the deck, and they were entangled in the sheets. Zatte occasionally said something in her own language, and kept her finger on Luffa's carotid artery as she muttered to herself. Eventually, she sat up and cradled Luffa's upper body in her lap.

*******

[24 July, 233 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

"I was so busy favoring my shoulder that I left my knee wide open!" Luffa grumbled. The campaign on Ryllax had ended hours ago, but Luffa's clothes and hair still carried the scent of Ryllaxian pollens from the battlefield.

"Are you going to make it to Eirzee IV?" Zatte asked as she carried Luffa's pants to the laundry receptacle. She took in the strange aroma one last time before shoving the clothes into the hatch.

"Oh, sure," Luffa said. "Doc repaired the worst of it, and I'll have to play it more carefully, but now he's gonna kick me out of the kitchen!"

"You don't know that," Zatte said.

"I can practically hear him, Zattie," Luffa said. "'Saving planets is one thing, but I'll not have you undoing all my work making a casserole, little mammal.'"

"What, now you can see the future, too?" Zatte asked. She was setting up candles around the bed again.

"Heh, maybe. I guess Old Darbock's genes are finally kicking in," Luffa said. "But it looks like I only know how to predict cranky doctors, so Dotz's job is probably safe."

"Well, I hate to take sides, but we can get by on leftovers for a while," Zatte said. "You cook too much food anyway."

Luffa lay back in the bed and groaned. "Still? I keep cutting the portions down for you guys, and it's still too much? That's insane..."

"I'm going to do my litany now," Zatte said. "Any requests?"

"I, uh, I don't think so," Luffa said. "Well, bless Dotz again. And Doc, and the others. And yourself."

Zatte began speaking slowly and methodically, reciting lines from the Dorlun Holybook in her alien tongue. Luffa only knew bits and pieces of her language, but Zatte had been happy to translate for her whenever she asked.

Luffa felt strange whenever her wife did these kinds of observances. She had never been comfortable with being a "chosen one" in Zatte's theology-- or anyone else's, for that matter. And yet, watching this woman pray over her so fervently was somehow inspiring. Zatte had suffered so much in her life, and yet she refused to abandon her principles. It reminded her of Saiyan pride, though Luffa supposed that most beings would just call it stubbornness. Zatte was too zealous to give up hope.

"Thank you for letting me do this," Zatte said when she finished.

"No problem," Luffa said. "Your language is pretty."

She leaned over and fetched a bottle of oil from the edge of the bed. Carefully, she dispensed a small portion onto her fingers, then dabbed it on Luffa's throat and wrists, tracing along the path of major blood vessels.

"All done," Zatte said.

"You've been really ramping up the religious stuff lately," Luffa said. "The litanies, the candles, the oil. I don't really get it myself, but is it helping you?"

"I think so," Zatte said. "The Dorluns prefer not to waste resources on empty ceremony. Some types of xan-nil'Dor call for physical labor. Farming a plot of land, or defending an important place. You, though, well, you're damn near invincible, so you're pretty low-maintenance. I just need something to do. A routine to renew my devotion to your cause."

"Like a practice drill," Luffa said.

Zatte rose from the bed and started putting out the candles. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. I may not be able to stop your hands from shaking, but at least I can show that I care. I think that's worth doing."

"Maybe," Luffa said. "It's not a big deal. They don't interfere with my fighting."

Zatte lay down beside her and took her hands in her own. "It just reminds me of what you've been through. I can't take away your pain, but I can try to empathize. You taught me how important that is."

"I taught you?"

"Sure. You're the most compassionate person I know."

*******

[27 July, 233 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

Dr. Topsas did not order Luffa out of the kitchen, though after the battle on Gairess, he began to wish he had. He implored Luffa to wait before heading off into another battle, but the point was moot. Dotz had no new predictions, and so Luffa found herself with no choice but to wait. Once more, she spent the evening in her wife's cabin.

"I... I gotta admit," Zatte said as she tried to catch her breath. "Even with the broken ribs... you really--"

"Is this messed up?" Luffa suddenly asked.

"Is what messed up?"

Luffa pointed at herself and then at Zatte. "Us," she said. "I mean, you've got the candles set up, you say a prayer before we go to bed, and then we talk about almost getting killed to get in the mood."

"Don't forget the sparring," Zatte said.

"You know, I never sparred with Kandai," Luffa said. "He never wanted to, and I never questioned it. He was so much stronger than me that he didn't see the point. But the gap between you and me is even bigger, and I love sparring with you."

"We're aliens," Zatte said. "I'm cut off from my own people and you're unique among yours. There's nothing conventional about us."

"I know, but... Zattie, are you ever afraid?"

"Of course," Zatte said. "Fear keeps you alive."

"I mean, are your afraid right now?" Luffa asked.

"Here? With you?" Zatte asked. "No. Are you afraid?"

"Yeah," Luffa said.

"About the war? Your son?"

"I'm afraid I'm not good enough," Luffa said. I feel like I'm gonna screw this up. Like I have before."

She reached for Zatte's face, and gently removed the patch from her right eye, revealing the scar tissue and prosthetic implant underneath.

"If it's me you're worried about..." Zatte began, but Luffa put her finger on her lips to silence her.

"I know, you're prepared to burn for me, or suffer whatever it takes, right? I wish I had a tenth of your courage. I wish... well, I wish there was some other Super Saiyan handling this."

"Aren't you always saying you're stronger than they were?" Zatte asked.

"Maybe I am, but I bet the old heroes never had to deal with the kind of baggage I've got."

"This is about your hands, isn't it?" Zatte asked. She took Luffa's palms into her own, and held them steady in case they began to tremble.

"It was four years ago," Luffa said. "I should have gotten over it by now. I should have gotten over Keda's death, I should have gotten over everything... The old heroes never had to deal with this sort of thing. They just fought and won. Nice and simple. I'm fighting, and I'm winning, but I keep dwelling on it all. Worrying about battles from the past, wondering how I'm going to do in the next ones."

"Maybe they had it just as bad," Zatte said. "Maybe the storytellers just left those parts out."

"Sometimes I wish things were different, you know? You told me before this is exactly how you wanted things to be, but I bet you'd like it better with Keda still alive. Or hell, the rest of the colony."

"But they're not alive, Luffa," Zatte said. "I have to accept that they're gone."

"I could have saved them all," Luffa said. "I had the power. I must have had it inside me all along. If only I had known how to use it then. When it would have mattered. If only I wasn't such a coward..."

"Don't say things like that!" Zatte said. "I know you use that kind of talk to get yourself fired up, but I don't want you believing that sort of thing. You're the bravest person I know."

"It's not enough," Luffa said. "That's what I worry about, anyway."

"And that's what the candles and the prayers are for," Zatte said. She lifted Luffa's hands slightly. "I don't just pray for the tremors to stop," she said. "I pray that the tremors won't interfere with your mission. I pray that you can accept what you are the way I do. You know why?"

Luffa didn't answer, so she lay down beside her and took her hand.

"Maybe you're right, and maybe another Super Saiyan could deal with this better than you could. You've told me that you think there might be another one like you, a thousand years from now. Well, I don't think the universe can wait that long. I think we need a Super Saiyan right now, and you're it."

"You're right," Luffa said. "It's just hard to see it that way from the inside. All these fights I've been having with these cultists, they start to run together after a while. It'd be different if they were stronger, or if I could come at them healthy. But they keep chipping away at me, and there doesn't seem to be any end to it..."

"We've got some time, at least," Zatte said. "Dotz hasn't seen anything new coming up, right? Remember how you used to fly over the coastlines on Luffasworld?"

"Yeah," Luffa said, "but that's way out in the galactic core. By the time we got there--"

Zatte put a finger on her lips. "I know that, but Woshad's not far away. We could take a few days to look around there."

Luffa seemed pleased by the suggestion, but before she could speak, a chirping noise sounded from the cabin's intercom, and both women looked up to see the light blinking on the panel on the wall.

"Um, this is Dotz," came the voice through the speaker. "Well, um, the service robot told me I could talk to the whole ship this way, and I thought it might be faster than trying to find everyone. Despye's been attacked. Or, well, it will be in about twenty hours. It looks pretty bad to me. I saw about twenty Saiyans, and one of those rock creatures they use."

"Oh no..." Zatte said.

"I, uh, set a course for Despye," Dotz continued, "and we should be heading there now, but I thought one of you should check to make sure I did it right. I'm still getting used to the helm controls..."

"We won't get there in twenty hours," Luffa grumbled. "Those bastards will have a head start, again. Even if the fleet can get there before us--"

"I know, I'll take care of it," Zatte said. She rolled out of the bed and went to find her clothes. "You need to get some sleep."

"Fine, but make sure you get some yourself," Luffa said. "I mean... you're going with me, right?"

"So I can watch you wipe them out before I can even line up a shot?" Zatte asked. "Sure, if you want me to."

"Actually," Luffa said as she patted her swollen knee, "I was thinking I might lure a few in for you to shoot. Make things a little easier. For Doc, you know?"

Zatte grinned as she pulled her shirt over her head, and most of that smile was still there when she turned to look back at Luffa. "For Dr. Topsas," she said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Makes sense. He's been working pretty hard lately."

"Just don't stay up all night cleaning your guns, okay?" Luffa muttered.

Zatte pulled on a pair of shorts and headed for the door. "Anything you say," she chuckled as she headed out into the corridor.

NEXT: Rats in mazes.

[dragonlearnstowrite]

Caught in Her Eyes (Part 3)

Thank you for continuing to follow Anna Marie Lee’s story. This part was originally intended as a short story for the 1000 word plot exercise of Week 6. I ended up going way over the word limit, but who cares? I’m with the result either way. Besides, I already have another story in mind that hopefully can fit that 1000 word limit. 

I really had fun writing this part, it was a bit difficult at the end as I had written 2 versions of how this part would end. I really liked how both versions sounded, and was hard pressed to choose just one. In the end, I went with the one I felt was more natural. I hope you have fun reading this 3rd part as much as I had writing it.

*Photo by Alexis Go

The summer sun rose high in the sky as Anna Marie stepped into the empty commercial space situated along Portobello Road. She slid her sunglasses towards the top of her head as her eyes took in the empty space before her. She walked towards the center, and slowly turned, envisioning all the possibilities.

With wide eyes and a smile on her face, she gazed at her partner and said, “This place is perfect!”...

... She explained how she imagines the bar to be situated at the center of the wall adjacent to the door. Instead of menus plastered on the wall behind the bar, she sees a painting made by local artists sandwiched between rows of shelves filled with a variety of coffee mugs, coffee blends, tea leaves, perhaps even some spices, cookies and coffee related books! The painting could then be sold to any customer who takes an interest. Across the bar, she would be a fake fireplace surrounded by loves eats and barrel chairs where customers could lounge around with books or simply chat with one another. On either side of the painted fireplace would be shelves filled with sculptures, pictures and books of all kinds. She might even add a few boards of chess and other quiet games as well.

It was perfect! She looked at the man standing right next to her and smiled. Three years ago, she never would’ve imagined she’d be here envisioning her future bookstore cafe. It was after all just three years ago that she’d met him, the man who’d pushed her towards turning her dreams into reality. She sipped her Starbucks coffee and closed her eyes as the memory of three months ago flowed into her mind.

                                                         -------

Anna Marie walked through the doors of Angels and Devils and was greeted by a handsome blonde devil. “Hey Anna Marie! haven’t seen you in a while! How have you been?”

“Hey Stephan! Never thought I’d ever see the day where our little angel would one day dress as the devil!” she teased.

“What choice do I have? It’s the women’s turn to be angels tonight.” Stephan complained with a wink. “ I see you’ve brought company tonight.”

“This is Terrence, he was part of the tour I had just finished. Terrence, meet Stephan, a childhood friend.”

Stephan guided them to a corner booth, then left them with two copies of the menu. A couple minutes later, he came back with a tall glass of Kahlua, on the house, and asked if they were ready to order.

Surprised by the unusual gesture, Anna Marie asked Stephan for the reason behind it. “James says it's your birthday, so your favorite drink is on him tonight.” he explained.

“Jamie’s here tonight?! Tell him I said hi and thank you.”

“No need. I think he’ll be coming over here sometime later. You can give him your thanks then. So are you ready to order yet?”

“Yes! I think I’ll get the grilled salmon belly with chips on the side. Terrence? How about you?”

Terrence glanced at the menu, nodded and said, “I’ll have one Fuller’s London Pride with and a basket buffalo wings please.”

“Fish for the lady and wings for the guy. Got it! I’ll be back with your orders in 10 to 15 minutes.”

“If I may ask, who is James? Or Jamie?” Terrence asked with curious eyes.

“Jamie’s my little brother. He’s actually a wine sommelier teaching WSET lectures at Leiths School of Food and Wine. He often comes here to help at the bar whenever the pub’s short staffed.”

“I see.”

The following minutes were then filled with talks about Anna Marie’s family, friends, and childhood memories. Naturally, Terrence also shared a multitude of stories from his time in Hong Kong. Anna Marie laughed her head off when he shared the story about the time he was taunting a female classmate, it ended with him getting kicked in the crotch! By the time their dinner had arrived some 10 minutes later, she’d already seen him laugh, frown, scowl and sneeze! It was so fun watching the different emotions cross his face.

Halfway through their delicious meal, Anna Marie had been surprised yet again. Terrence wasn’t just a foreign tourist as she had initially thought, but rather a naturalized British Citizen! He had been living in London for the past 8 years as a financial consultant to one of the biggest insurance firms in England. No wonder he suggested the cab ride, he already knew how far Portebello road was from Westfield Shopping Centre! The sly fox!

Minutes after swallowing her last bite of the salmon, Anna Marie was showered with yet another pleasant surprise. Jamie came over, bringing with him a candle topped Tiramisu cup, and several angels and devils singing Happy Birthday behind him. Tears welled up in her eyes as the crowd came forward to hug her one by one, wishing her a happy birthday and to visit more often. Moments later the crowd dispersed with a few throwing flirtatious glances Terrence’s way. Jamie stayed for a few more minutes reminding her of mom’s upcoming birthday as well as next week’s get together before going back to work at the bar.

“Your brother seemed reluctant to leave your side Anna Marie.” Terrence said as he took a sip of his ale while looking at Jamie’s retreating back.

Anna Marie waved her hand as she said, “Pshaw! Don’t worry about him. He’s just a tad bit overprotective of me. He’s always like that towards men he doesn’t know.”

“In that case, I’d best invite him to a drink sometime, get acquainted.”

“Whatever for?”

Terrence leaned forward, touched Anna Marie’s right hand with his left, and gazed straight into her two toned eyes as he said, “Spending tonight with you has been the most fun I’ve had in weeks Anna Marie. Your colorful and fun-loving attitude makes me want to take you out again, get to know you some more.” He looked down at their hands, slid his under hers and gently held her hand in place. He looked into her eyes and, “Won’t you Anna Marie? Won’t you have dinner with me again sometime this week?”

Anna Marie was shocked speechless. She sat there, silently gazing into his bright, hazel brown eyes as she tried to absorb, to decipher the meaning behind his words. He wanted to take her out to dinner? Whatever for? For business? For work? No, she doesn’t think it's for work. He said he wanted to get to know her better. Why? Was he attracted to her? Did he intend to court her? Pursue her? Or did he just want to get inside her pants? Her mind was flooded with such thoughts that she forgot to breathe for a second or two. It wasn’t until Terrence had called her name that her mind magically calmed down, and she remembered to breathe again.

She closed her eyes and breathed five calming breaths, opened her eyes and faced Terrence’s gaze head on. Anna Marie didn’t want to misunderstand his intentions by assuming things, so she asked, “Why would you want to take me out?”

“I find you very attractive Anna Marie. I’d like to take you out on romantic dates, if you’ll let me.”

Anna Marie blushed. Terrence’s sudden confession of attraction was heady. She’d never been approached so strongly before so she didn’t know how to respond. How she wished her brother could help her right now. She studied his face as she looked for an answer. She is currently single, and without a lover. He is fairly handsome, and as a financial consultant, might be fairly rich too. But he could also be mean, and dictative, or perhaps even dangerous… no she doesn’t really think he’s dangerous. She wouldn’t have hopped into that cab had she truly thought he was. So should she say yes?

With her mind made up, Anna Marie held the hand holding hers and said, “One dinner date. Friday night. And then we’ll see what happens next.”

Terrence lifted her hand, brought her fingers to his lips and smiled. “Deal!”

                                                        -------

The sound of her name being called brought Anna Marie back to the present. Slowly she opened her eyes and smiled at Terrence, “You seemed lost in thought. What were you thinking about?”

“Hmm… nothing much. I was just remembering that first night at Angels and Devils.”

“Oh… I remember that night. I approached you after the tour wanting to thank you, and then somehow ended up joining you at the pub.”

“And then, rather than persuade me to take the translating job, like I thought you would, you ended up asking me out instead!”

They both laughed at the memory, Anna Marie looked up at the man who changed her life, “Do you ever wonder what would’ve happened had I not agreed to that dinner invitation?”

Terrence stared at the ceiling with a pensive look, “Hmmm… not really.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled, “But I know what I would’ve done had you not said yes that night.”

“What’s that?”

Terrence gave her one of his most devilishly charming smiles and said, “I would’ve pestered you endlessly until you said yes!”

Anna Marie laughed at his answer, how very Terrence! His persistence was one of the things that she liked about him. “It’s a good thing I said yes then. Otherwise I probably wouldn’t be standing here right now, beginning my journey to fulfilling my dream of finally opening a coffee shop where people don’t just come to drink, instead they come to relax, read books, and bond with people over cups of coffee and tea.”

“And it's a good thing you did! Otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here hugging my very pregnant wife!”

She smiled at the quiet reminder. Having to start both her dream family and cafe at the same time, Anna Marie felt blissfully content. She couldn’t have asked for a better beginning to a new chapter in her life. “Thank you for joining that tour and lingering after everyone else had left.”

Terrence lifted her chin and gazed lovingly into her blue and brown eyes, “Thank you for being born with those wonderfully rare eyes of yours. They’re what captured me in the first place.”

“Thank you for being caught by my eyes.”

He leaned forward, further closing the space between them whispering, “I’m happy to be … caught in your eyes...” and then his lips closed over Anna Marie’s silencing any further talks.

                                                        -------

Author’s note: Thank you for reading Anna Marie’s story all the way till the end! 

“Caught in Her Eyes” is the first story I’ve ever written that feels complete and not end at a cliffhanger. I had enjoyed writing Anna Marie Lee’s story and see it unfold. And I hope you enjoyed it too.

Please comment your thoughts on the story below, and I’ll be sure to read them.

[collecting-stories]

I’m Pine-ing for You

A/N: The second chapter of my Christmas fic.

Christmas Mingle Masterlist

_* ◦ ❅ . ❄︎ * ∙ ◦ . _

Ariana Grande crooned over the tinny radio in the gift shop as Audrey browsed, trying to maximize her day off and finish the last of her Christmas shopping. It was futile, she knew that much, but she had bundled up for the cold weather and headed out to walk around Main Street, hoping some kind of good would come from searching. Even if all it yielded was a new candle for her apartment. Most of her family was generic enough to settle for giftcards from Target but she still went out, as if she would find something that anyone would appreciate more than the basic $25 card. 

Just like every year though, she was browsing more for herself than anyone else, halfway through the display of handmade ceramic mugs, when she heard Jeff's familiar timbre. She'd only gone on one date with him so far but it didn't matter, she could probably pick out his voice in a line up. It was deep and not to raspy and she could've listened to him talk forever. But now that she thought about it, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to "run into" him here. And when she looked over toward the door she realized he was with his son. She hadn't seen any pictures of Charlie but if that tall-for-his-age kid beside Jeff wasn't his son she'd be shocked. 

Audrey was in the back of the store, not poised to sneak out without having to walk right passed him. If there was one thing she truly hated it was running into people, something that happened a lot more frequently in her life now that she worked retail. There was nothing that compared to being trapped by an old school acquaintance as she rang up their groceries. She thought about turning and heading further into the store but there was no pretending that she hadn't seen Jeff, especially as her hand paused mid-grabbing a mug off the shelf, when he called her name. 

"Christmas shopping?" Jeff asked, stepping up beside her in the narrow aisle of the shop. 

"Well," Audrey looked over at him, "I tell myself that but honestly, I'm just shopping for me." 

"Nothing wrong with that," he replied and Audrey cracked a smile.

"You're very agreeable, you know that?" She pointed out. He'd been the same on their date, agreeable on all fronts. About her divorce, her disinterest in her current job, her lack of enthusiasm for the Christmas season. 

"Maybe we just agree on things?" He suggested. 

"Well then, I know who to call for a second opinion." Audrey replied, glancing over to the small section of kids toys, Jeff's spitting image crouched on the ground looking over a puzzle, "Is that Charlie?" She didn't know if day-after-the-first-date was too soon to meet his son but it wasn't like he was formally introducing them so she didn't feel too bad about asking. 

"Yeah that's Charlie," Jeff nodded, looking over, "kiddo's supposed to be helping me shop for other people's presents but it looks like he's picking out a few things to add to his list."

"Kid after my own heart," Audrey teased. "I'm not sure I could be of any actual help, Charlie and I seem to share a shopping gene, but I could lend a hand picking out some things if you want?" She wasn't sure that inviting herself to spend the afternoon with him was really an appropriate, normal thing to do, but she couldn't help herself. The words had come tumbling out of her mouth faster than she could think them. Something about Jeff just seemed to make the temptation of spending her day off completely by herself pale in comparison to spending the day with him. She couldn't remember a time when she felt this way about someone, even with Chris, even in the beginning when everything was new and supposedly exciting, she sought out moments when she could be alone. 

"Alright, but I have two stipulations," Jeff replied, picking up one of the mugs to look it over, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I take the credit for all the gifts, and you provide the coffee."

"I provide the coffee? How is that fair? What are you providing?" Audrey said.

"The company." He shrugged as if it was totally obvious, Audrey laughing out loud, turning more toward him when the shopkeeper looked over at the sudden sound of them disturbing the ambiance of the store. 

"It's a deal." She kept her voice down as she moved further down the aisle, pointing out a sun-catcher that was hanging on display. "Anyone?"

"Not even close." He replied. "I'm gonna rethink this deal if you can't hold up your end of the bargain." 

"To be fair, you haven't given me any information to go on." Audrey pointed out, still holding onto the sun-catcher, contemplating a place for it in her own apartment. 

Before Jeff could say anything else Charlie had found him, clutching a puzzle box to his chest he came over, stepping in front of his dad to show off his find. "Look, it's 1000 pieces...I've never done 1000 pieces before." 

Audrey smiled, mouthing '1000 pieces' when Jeff caught her eye passed his son. He grinned and nodded, giving in to Charlie's request. 

"Alright, we'll put it aside for break." He offered, taking the box from Charlie, "but you're supposed to be looking for something for something for your grandma."

"I am!" Charlie insisted.

"In the toy area?" 

When Audrey snickered at Jeff's comment Charlie turned to look at her, a wide smile on his face at the sight of the stranger. "Hi." 

"Hey." She greeted, smiling at the young boy. 

"I'm Charlie," He introduced himself, holding his hand out to shake hers. 

Audrey took the seven year old's hand, shaking as she introduced herself, "Audrey." 

Never one to miss anything, Charlie had noticed the look that his dad had given Audrey immediately, even as he was talking about the puzzle that he wanted. 

"How do you know my dad?" He asked blatantly.

"I, uh..."

"Audrey's a friend of mine," Jeff supplied, putting his hand on his son's shoulder to get his attention. 

Charlie leaned his head back, looking up at Jeff and giving him a toothy grin. "Can she shop with us?" He asked. 

"Well, don't ask me." Jeff replied. 

"Can you shop with us?" Charlie asked, looking back at Audrey, "I need help picking a gift for my nana."

"I would love to help you."

Charlie stepped away from his dad, grabbing Audrey's hand to lead her away from Jeff and toward the back of the store. Audrey glanced back over her shoulder at Jeff, biting her lip as she smiled at him. Charlie was a well adjusted kid for his age, comfortable talking to adults happy to spend time hanging out with Jeff. He knew there were enough people in his son's life, family included, that pressured him about the way Charlie behaved. They wanted a kid that was less used to spending the majority of his week with his dad and they wanted Jeff to be more interested in dating and less interested in fathering his kid. 

His mom had been thrilled, the night before, to babysit her grandson when she heard that Jeff had a date. It had been since his late wife passed away that he had gone out and before then she was the only one he had dated in years. 

-

"It's just been so long," she had lamented, following her son into the kitchen, attempting a whisper as she spoke. "You deserve to be happy-"

"I am happy ma," Jeff promised, writing out any information she might need while he was gone. Phone numbers, the name of the restaurant he was going to, Charlie's pre-bed schedule. 

"Happy with someone in your life. Someone who can help you raise Charlie. I know you don't agree but, he needs a mother figure."

"Charlie doesn't need a 'mother figure' and it's one date ma, I'm not gonna marry this woman." 

"You don't know that." Jeff's mom replied, adamant on her stance about the date. She had been trying to convince Jeff to get back into dating for a few years now. She knew it was hard, losing his wife so quickly after Charlie was born, and she felt like she had waited an appropriate amount of time but, around two years ago, she had started dropping hints. Mentions here and there about women that she knew from church or even just 'eligible singles' that she saw at  the grocery store. She had very little in the way of requirements.

"Please just watch him for the night and don't read too much into this?" 

"Is it so wrong to be optimistic?" She asked, "it's been a long time since you've even considered dating." 

"I'll call you on my way home, I'll just be down the street at the brewhouse."

-

Audrey crouched down so she could get a better look at the bottom shelf of the display where Charlie was checking out a few different glass blown ornaments. She reached for one, a red teardrop shaped ornament that was crackled and, when she held it up to the light, glistened. 

"That's really pretty!" Charlie exclaimed, taking it from her when she handed it over to him. 

"I think so too," Audrey replied, "what do you think about it as a gift?"

"I don't know," he pouted, nose scrunching as he inspected the ornament in greater detail, "dad, would nana like this?" 

"Is there a pink one in there?" Jeff asked, looking over from the display of candles he'd been going through. He liked everything about Christmas aside from having to buy gifts for people. Charlie was easy, he always knew what his son wanted. It was everyone else that gave him a headache. "She'll probably love that."

Charlie dug through the box of ornaments, careful that nothing broke, successfully pulling out a pink one, "I found a pink one!"

Audrey took the red one back, turning it over in her hand once more before putting it back in the box. 

"You should get that one." Charlie pointed out, "you could put it on your tree."

"Oh gosh," Audrey laughed, "I actually don't have a tree." She confessed. 

Putting up a tree had been the least of her worries this year, not even a table top had made it's way into her house though she'd spent plenty of time on pinterest and instagram scrolling through the holiday decorations of influencers who's lives appeared much more together than her own. 

"No tree?" Charlie looked absolutely offended at the thought of anyone not having a tree for Christmas, "dad! Dad!" 

"Yeah bud?" Jeff asked, tearing his attention away from a case of handmade necklaces that he shouldn't have been looking through so  early on in knowing Audrey when it was clearly her  he had in mind. 

"Audrey doesn't have a tree," the disbelief, even as he repeated what he already knew, was on par with the discovery of Santa's fraudulence. "We can get you a tree?" He reasoned, turning back to look at her, wide, eager eyes. 

"I really don't have a lot of ornaments." Audrey admitted. 

The first time she had told Chris that she needed space they had both assumed that she would be back within the month. But then two months passed and three months and she drove passed the house but it felt foreign to her. So she said it again, she needed space, mountains of it, years of it, more space than he could ever give her. And when she set foot inside the house for the last time to take what she deemed hers from a short lifetime of theirs, she left all but a shoebox of decorations. 

"Oh well," Jeff was smiling at her like whatever he said she'd be hanging on, "you happen to be in the presence of the best ornament chooser in the entire world." He pointed to Charlie as he spoke, indicating it was the seven year old who possessed all the expertise of Christmas decoration. 

"Really?" She attempted her best look of skepticism as Charlie nodded his head in agreement with his father. 

"Dad buys me a new ornament every year that I pick out all on my own." He replied as proof of his skill. 

Audrey agreed, unable to say no to Charlie. He was too sweet and she was enjoying spending time with him and Jeff too much. It was arguably some sort of honeymooning phase, she reasoned, that had her this invested in a guy that she had only been on one date with but she couldn't help it. This was just a for the holidays thing, a see where this goes, nothing special, thing that didn't have too mean too much. She didn't have to read too much into every look and every touch, didn't have to take everything so seriously, and still she was eagerly agreeing to spending the rest of her afternoon with Jeff and Charlie. 

"I gotta tell you Charlie," Audrey said as she walked through the Christmas tree lot with him, "I am no tree expert. I haven't had a real tree since I was a kid." 

"That's okay," he promised, "I'm the best tree chooser there is." 

Jeff walked just behind the pair, listening to his son discuss the important parts of the tree and how to pick the best one, talking with such authority that his bullshitting was almost believable. Once Charlie got started on a topic it was nearly impossible for him to stop and he loved showing off whatever knowledge he might have, be it minimum or not. 

"Expert ornament chooser and expert tree chooser?" Audrey asked, glancing back at Jeff with amusement. Jeff grinned back at her. 

"What can I say?" Charlie replied, "Christmas is the best time of the year."

"I can't argue with that."

"Besides, if you don't get a tree then how is Santa going to bring you presents?" Charlie asked, a look of distress washing over his features as his eyes met hers. The thought had just occurred to him and yet it was a troubling one.

"That explains the lack of gifts the last few years...I think Santa is still delivering all my presents to my parents' house." She teased. 

"Do you live by yourself?" Charlie asked, intrigued by the new development. 

If Jeff was eager to learn more about Audrey than Charlie was tenfold. He asked questions about her job and her house and what her favorite Christmas activity was. Jeff wasn't sure if it was just her being too polite to ignore Charlie's questions or if she was truly interested in what he had to say but she listened and chatted. Dating hadn't been something that Jeff had kept at the top of his to-do list and he definitely hadn't introduced too many people to his son. A few close friends, those that knew him before his wife passed away, but no one that he seriously considered spending his life with. Not that he was thinking that far in advance now but getting to know Audrey was definitely something he wanted to continue doing. 

The three of them circled the tree lot more times then Jeff felt necessary, scouring rows of evergreens that he was sure they had already examined until Charlie finally spotted the spruce that he wanted. He let out a shout of exclamation at the sight and broke out in a dash as if someone else might discover the tree before he could reach it. "This one!" He announced, standing in front of the tree and waving his arms to draw their attention to it.

"That one is..." Audrey looked at the tree on display, imagining the trip up the stairs and sheer mass of it sitting in her small apartment, "big." It seemed like the only logical adjective to describe the tree she was staring at.

"Big trees are the best trees." Charlie insisted, "you can get the most ornaments on." 

"Maybe you can, I'm still lacking in the ornament department." Audrey replied. A shoebox full was not enough for a tree that was threatening six feet tall. She'd been hoping that the seven year old would settle on something more akin to a tabletop but he seemed determined that the green giant was going to be part of Audrey's Christmas. 

"We can get you more ornaments." 

"Don't fight it," Jeff teased, coming up beside her. His hand fell to the small of her back, turning just slightly toward her so that he could whisper in her ear, away from Charlie's heightened hearing, "he's never gonna give in."

"I think I've already figured that one out." Audrey replied, looking at Jeff, unable to stop herself from smiling. 

Tree decided on, Charlie was as determined as ever to find ornaments that would go perfectly. He insisted that they not be too uniform, complaining, at seven, about the odd need for trees on television shows to have a ribbon woven through them. The strong opinions he had about Christmas were entertaining, to say the least, and Audrey didn't fight them. She had been content without all the fuss, happy to let Christmas happen the same way that it did every year but now she found herself letting Jeff haul a tree up her steps and into her apartment.

Charlie seemed as enamored by her tiny house as he did by her, rushing to the window to look out on the street that he'd walked around on a hundred times. "Dad!" He called, face close to the window pane, unbothered by the hint of cold that seeped in through the the old wood and glass. 

Jeff let the tree slide off his shoulder, leaning the tree that was as tall as he was against his chest as he looked over at his son, "what's up Charlie?"

Audrey locked the door behind them, bags in one hand as she kicked her shoes off. She had stopped for some ornaments along the way, practically clearing out her Target's Christmas section. Marci had eyed her suspiciously as she checked out, fully aware of Audrey's disdain for the holiday season. She had ignored her co-worker though, rushing through self-checkout as quickly as possible so that she could avoid making Jeff and Charlie wait too long outside of her apartment. 

"Look!" Charlie called, waving Jeff over as if the tree wasn't heavy and unstable. "You can see Main Street."

"You should stay for dinner and see it at night with all the lights." Audrey replied, setting the bags down on the couch as she went over to help Jeff, "I can't believe you guys stopped and got a tree stand too."

"You can't have a tree without a tree stand." Jeff shrugged, "that seemed pretty obvious. Tree, tree stand, ornaments..."

"Yeah, yeah, alright." Audrey laughed, setting up the stand. 

While Jeff did most of the assembly in getting the tree in the stand and cutting it loose from the netting, Charlie rummaged through the bags of ornaments, sorting them into groups that he decided went together. The tree didn't take as long as Audrey thought it would but it did look a lot better in her apartment then she had first suspected when Charlie had spied it in the lot. Though it blocked a decent amount of her window view, the ornaments looked pretty with the lights and she had even brought out the shoebox of special ones that she kept in her bedroom. 

"Some of these are pretty old, they belonged to my great grandma." Audrey explained, setting the box on the coffee table and opening it up for Charlie to see. 

"This one is so cool!" He held up a blue bobble, handpainted with a horse and carriage in the snow. "My grandma got me an ornament decorating kit and I painted one with a Christmas tree." 

"I bet it looks really awesome," Audrey replied, taking the ornament from him so she could hang it up a little higher. 

"You should come over to see it!" Charlie looked thrilled at his idea, turning to his father in excitement, "what do you think dad? Could Audrey come over soon?"

Jeff looked over Charlie's head to Audrey, their eyes meeting as Audrey smiled. It seemed a natural occurrence when she was around Jeff though she didn't want to let herself think too hard on the matter. 

"I don't see why not." Jeff finally said. 

"Well, since you're here now, what should we get for dinner tonight?" Audrey asked, taking another ornament from Charlie to hang up. 

"Pizza!" He replied without hesitation. 

"Pizza it is," She agreed, stepping away from the tree to grab her phone, "any toppings?"

-

Dinner was served on the coffee table, the three of them sitting on the couch to watch TV, Charlie choosing It Happened on 5th Avenue as his Christmas movie of choice. He sat between them, enthralled in the film, announcing favorite scenes just before they happened. Audrey had steered clear of cliche Christmas films like It's a Wonderful Life or Love Actually for a while, longer that she had been single. She never cared for them and always found them cheesy and ridiculous. The leads falling in love all within a week, enamored with each other as if there was no one else in the world. As if falling in love at Christmas solved all their problems. But here she was, watching this old black and white film and actually enjoying it. 

It was nearly three quarters of the way through when Jeff felt Charlie slump against him more that he glanced down, realizing that his son had fallen asleep. Audrey seemed to pick up on Charlie's sleeping around the same time, pausing the film and asking if wanted to let Charlie nap in her bed. "Unless you two need to get home?" 

"We can stay a little while longer," Jeff replied, reluctant to go as it was. 

While he carried Charlie into the bedroom, laying him on the bed and covering him with a blanket, Audrey cleared away the pizza and closed the front window. She grabbed a bottle of wine from the cabinet and two glasses, meeting Jeff back in the living room.

 "Wine?"

"What've you got?" Jeff asked, taking the bottle from her.

"Just a red, it's from a subscription I get every month." She replied, "I could be paying for a gym but-"

"Wine is better than a gym," Jeff concluded, heading back to the couch with her. She let him pour the glasses, a little heavy handed though so was she. "I was thinking about what you said, about looking for something that wasn't working at Target."

"My glamorous part time job...what about it?" Audrey asked, taking a sip of her wine. 

"The art teacher at Charlie's school is going on maternity leave and I heard they posted the job online. I'm not trying to overstep or anything, just saw it and thought of you." 

"Well, I'm flattered that you thought of me. I'll look into it." She replied, "part of me would love it, honestly, and the other part is terrified to actually do something like that. I feel everything has moved really slowly but quickly at the same time for me." 

"I know the feeling well. Don't feel like you need to consider anything just cause I mentioned it." Jeff replied, "take everything at your own pace."

"I'll never move forward if I do that." Audrey admitted. 

"Well hey, nothing needs to be decided now...I mean, Christmas break is right around the corner."

"That's right, you have finals for your semester don't you?" Audrey asked. She wasn't sure why it hadn't occurred to her the entire time that they were out shopping or looking for a tree but it was as if she suddenly remembered that Jeff had actual work when class hours ended. 

"Coming up, yeah." He nodded. "I'll be spending the next four days prepping and grading essays." 

"I'll trade you bitchy, impatient customers who think I'm secretly stashing all the stuff they want so they can't find it?" Audrey offered.

"Now that you mention it, the papers are fine." He replied, smiling at her as he took a sip of wine, "so this party coming up? It's your co-worker's?"

"Co-worker/best friend." 

"How did that come about...if you don't mind my asking?" 

"I guess, all my other friends are friends with  Chris too you know? They knew us when we were dating, as our relationship progressed, they went to our wedding. When I left him and it wasn't for any "good" reason, I think they felt like I was overreacting." Audrey admitted. Even more than leaving and telling Chris she was never coming home, she could remember the distinct heartache that had followed her falling out with her best friend. The way Leah had accused her of being dramatic and foolish and told her that she was blowing things out of proportion. "I mean, he didn't cheat on me, he wasn't some awful guy...a little controlling sometimes but not to the magnitude of telling me what I could and couldn't do."

"If you don't love someone, you don't love someone. You can't stay in a relationship just because they're 'not a bad guy'." Jeff replied. 

"I feel bad telling you about all this honestly," she confessed, "I'm trying to divorce my husband, you lost your wife, that's...I feel silly having such superficial problems."

"It's not superficial." He reassured. "I met Hannah in my early 30's after I had broken up with a woman who wanted me to propose to her."

"Oh no," Audrey laughed, "you were one of those!"

Jeff nodded, "thought I didn't want commitment, I think I just, didn't feel like I knew what I wanted. But, I met Hannah through friends and we took things slow until she basically told me to propose or get out-"

"I like her."

"She was great. You know, it's hard...she passed away around the holidays. It would've been our first Christmas with Charlie." He replied, "I thought about not celebrating...took me weeks to put up a tree. He won't remember any of that but, it felt like something I had to do." 

"For Charlie or for yourself?" 

"Both of us, I guess. I didn't want him to feel like Christmas had this awful connotation, you know? I didn't want him to grow up feeling like he couldn't celebrate and he had to be sad." 

"When I moved out of my house with Chris it was just, easier not to celebrate. It was just me and it felt ridiculous to decorate this little apartment." Audrey admitted, looking over at the tree in front of the window, "seeing the tree up though, I kinda missed that."

"If you let Charlie come back again he'll probably put gifts under it for you just to make sure it looks official." 

"Charlie is awesome, you have an amazing kid." 

"Thank you, I think so most of the time." Jeff laughed. 

9 Days Until Christmas

"I gotta say, the cowboy boots are a touch I wasn't expecting." Jeff laughed as Audrey stepped out the front door of her apartment. She did a twirl, showing off the outfit she was wearing beneath her plaid coat. 

"Would you believe me if I told you they were a Footloose impulse buy after high school graduation?" Audrey asked. 

-

Not everything feels like something else, but holding on to a pair of red cowboy boots that went with nothing in her wardrobe simply because of the sentimentality felt a lot like being stuck in place. When she came back for her things, letting herself into the old house with two suitcases that her mom had been reluctant to give away ("can't you just work it out? Have you even tried?"),  she had almost left them. Sitting there on the bottom of her  shoe rack, accumulating the dust that was inevitable for something so rarely worn, she had thought of letting them go too. Was it symbolic? To leave both the boots and Chris behind? But she could bring herself to leave them the way she had left her marriage so she carried them out to the car and put them in the front seat and then, three years and five months later she wore them to a Kacey Musgraves concert with Cady. 

"Can't say I'm a fan of the film." Jeff admitted. 

"Is that your way of telling me that you don't recognize Ariel's iconic red cowboy boots?" And now she wore them again. Red cowboy boots paired with black stockings, a jean skirt that fit the persona of Midwest Christmas she was trying to pull off, and a sweater that was cuter then it was ugly. Pink with white pompoms and a sequined Jolly Old Saint Nick. Cady's holiday party would inevitably be as country as she wished she was and Audrey had every intention oof dressing for it. 

"It is." Jeff replied, "but you look beautiful." Audrey had mentioned her best friend's proclivity for all things Tennessee Christmas but that had done little to influence Jeff's outfit. Dark jeans and a cable knit sweater with boots. Nothing entirely special in the outfit, and Audrey had never been one to give men's fashion too much thought, but he certainly looked good. "I feel like I should've dressed the part more." He took Audrey's hand in his as they made the short trek across the street and down to the small parking lot a block away. 

"That's okay, when we inevitably sneak away from the party because, god love her but Cady's 'Yeehaw Christmas' is a little more than I think I can bear, you'll look like a normal person and I'll look-"

"Like you're in middle school?" Jeff teased. 

"Exactly like that," Audrey replied.

Comical as it was, Yeehaw Christmas was the perfect describer for the party that they walked into. Cady had outfitted her shared apartment with decorations that looked as if they had been purchased at Cabellas or maybe just a Dollar General. Cady's wasn't the only party a friend had invited Audrey to this season but it was the only one she committed to, at least, making an appearance at. Her other friends were friends with Chris and she knew he would be there too, as if it was all some elaborate plot to convince her that maybe she had made a mistake when she decided that they no longer fit in each other's lives. 

"You made it!" Cady shouted across the room, rushing over to wrap Audrey in a hug. Ten years made little difference to either of them. The idea of meeting your best friend at a retail job seemed like something that truly only happened on TV but Cady had been the  lifeboat back to normalcy after the heartache. "Oh god, I'm so glad you came!" 

"I said I was." Audrey insisted, pulling away from Cady. She was standing slightly in front of Jeff and when her eyes met Cady's she shifted her gaze subtly to the side, a look that screamed, 'I brought him'. 

Cady's eyes shifted over to Jeff, brushing her blond hair back as she looked up at him. He was taller than her. Like a tower. He was taller than Audrey and she was relatively tall, or so everyone always felt the need to say when she wore heels. Before she could say anything Audrey continued, introducing them. "Cady, this is Jeff. Jeff, my best friend Cady. 

"Thanks for letting me tag along." Jeff replied, handing over the bag that contained a small hostess invitation. "Audrey said you don't do wine."

Cady took the bag from him, pulling out a bottle of  grey goose. "Thank you! This is the best Christmas present ever!" She joked.

More partygoers came, allowing Audrey and Jeff a break from Cady as they made their way over to the kitchen and the counter space that was doubling as a bar for the evening. There were cheap flavored vodkas, tequila, whiskey, gin, and some bottles of red wine stuffed into the small space between the sink and the fridge. 

"Guess we have our pick?" Audrey asked, looking over her shoulder at Jeff. 

"I'll stick with the whiskey, seems like a safe option." He replied, "only cause I've heard of the brand." 

"What? No peppermint mocha vodka?" Audrey said, trying and failing not to sound completely grossed out by the suggestion of the flavor. 

Jeff laughed, "tell you what, if you do a shot I will do a shot." 

Audrey grabbed two shot glass sized red solo cups, never one to back down from a challenge, and poured the vodka in them. Truthfully, she just wanted to see him drink something as ridiculous  as Christmas themed vodka simply because he struck her entirely as a classy kind of drinker, even his beer on their first date had felt superior to all those cheap brands she'd snuck in high school. He was game for just about anything though, proving it as he kicked back a shot of the sweet liquor, feeling the faint burn of it down the back of his throat. 

"Can't say I love feeling like I just tossed a whole pack of spearmint gum in my mouth and lit it on fire." Jeff commented, sticking his tongue out for a second as if that would get rid of the taste. Audrey coughed around her shot, almost losing it but swallowing at the last second. She gagged and shook her head furiously at the tiny cup in her hand. 

"No." She finally said. "No, that was terrible."

"It was bad."

"It was...oh god, I need something after that." She replied. 

Jeff shifted bottles around until he found a decent red nestled in the back. "How's this?" He grabbed two cups from the stack, filling them a little more than he would a wine glass. 

"Works for me."

She took his arm, pulling him passed the fridge and a little further into the kitchen as people came in to grab drinks. Jeff moved with her, turning so his back was to the other couple and the two of them were in their own little corner. Audrey looked passed him, watching as a few more people came and went from the kitchen. 

"I really didn't feel like I was going to feel old being here but I totally do." Audrey muttered. 

"You feel old?" Jeff scoffed, "how do you think I'm feeling right now?" He brushed his hand through his hair to draw attention to the strands of gray there among the black. 

"Well, don't worry, I have no plans to stay the whole time," Audrey whispered as if someone would overhear her, "I love Cady but she can go forever if she's drunk enough and I definitely think she's on her way there."

-

Jeff opened the door to Charlie's room, the dinosaur nightlight in the corner glowing and painting the room a dim yellow. The party had been a short lived experience followed by a quick meal at a diner down the street from Cady's apartment. He and Audrey had sat there in the booth against the window, the conversation easy over burgers and fries. 

It had been fun, good even, to go out with Audrey and go to a stupid holiday party. Everything was fine until he walked in the front door. His mom was in the living room watching an old  Christmas special, a million questions on the tip of her tongue when he came inside. He'd managed to dodge most of them, skirting around details and specifics as he rushed her out the door and promised that he'd see her soon. He wasn't completely sure that he was ready to divulge details about Audrey to his mother. 

Back in his own room, Jeff sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling off his sweater and undershirt and tossing them over to the hamper. His eyes landed on the picture that sat on the dresser, the same picture he'd looked at a million times in the last seven years. It was a picture of him and Hannah on their wedding day, close enough that the bottom of her dress was cut off but it didn't matter, he could remember everything about that moment. That day had felt like a godsend, the moment in his life when everything felt like it was going right and he was finally on the right path. Jeff stood up, crossing the room and taking the picture off the dresser to look at it closer. 

Audrey popped into his unprompted as he stared down at the picture of his late wife. Was moving on something that he really wanted? He'd thought about it before but it never felt like the right time. He never felt ready to let go of Hannah's memory or the love he had for her. But he knew there was something different about Audrey. He didn't feel so much like loving her would be giving up Hannah. Something he hadn't felt once in the last seven years. Something he felt like he had to hold onto. 

[poipoipoi-2016]

So you’ve decided you want to walk across the Grand Canyon

@dwelling-abode​ pinged me, and I ranted enough I’m just going to make this a post

3 parts: 

The Hike itself and why it sucks

The warnings

The walkthrough

The gear you’re going to use to make it suck less and also not die

The fitness you need to be in to not die

I apologize to all the mobile people for whom this is a wall of text.  

The hike:

Two variations: 

1) Rim-to-Rim aka North Kaibab to Bright Angel.  I did this.  1 day down, 2 days up.  

2) South Kaibab to Bright Angel off the South Rim

First thing you should notice: There is no water on South Kaibab.  There is no purified water source between Cottonwood and Bright Angel (Well, er, Phantom Ranch) which is the longest, hottest, most exposed portion of the trip.  You are coming up Bright Angel.  

The other thing you should notice: 1000 feet is 600 miles, this is the rough equivalent weather-wise of walking from Calgary to Phoenix to Minneapolis.  On a good day, your downhill day has a 60 degree temperature differential.  

This in turn enforces a very hard cutoff in terms of when it’s physically possible to do this, namely about 2 weeks in early October when the North Rim is open and it *might* not be 100+ degrees at the bottom.  Key word might.  I did it on the last possible day (No seriously, I flew my grandmother out to spend 4 days driving the car around), and it was 92.  

If you’ve never done serious exertion, 55 is t-shirt weather, I mean this.  

If you do it in June/July/August/early September, you will die.   There is no safe way to do this (Read: Any) level of physical activity in the desert in those temps.  

So let’s walkthrough the hike. 

The first mile and a half down to Supai is a boring series of switchbacks down through a pine forest.  Poor visibility because of the trees, boring yellow/grey rock, just do it.  Weather-wise, it went from 30 to 60 in the space of about 2 hours, if you brought a jacket, it’s in the backpack by now.  

Then you get to the tunnel.  If your less... energetic... companions want to come down a little bit, this is the spot they gawk and turn around.  There is a water supply, but it was covered in wasps, so don’t count on it running.  Probably 60-90 minutes down, 2-3 hours back up.  

The rock turns red, the pines get replaced by high desert scrub, it’s really the first open view of the next few miles of the hike and the light’s come around *just* far enough that it’s down into the canyon, but it’s still good light.  

Broadly speaking, you’re switchbacking down the left wall to the bridge, over the bridge, then down the right wall until you hit the bottom of that far wall.  

About halfway down, the red rock converts into the red-gray rock, and the trail becomes a dynamited cut into the sheer rock wall.  If you’re afraid of heights... enjoy!  Seriously, it’s freaky.  There is a tree in this picture.  

It’s another 15-20 degrees hotter (80... It was 30 4 hours and 3000 feet ago), and the sheer rock walls largely conceal the transition from the pictured scrub to actual desert.  

At Roaring Springs, the red rock ends and you get this off-green shale in eroded piles.  The trail flattens out, opens up, and goes another half mile down to the pumphouse.  This was my first working water supply!  It is 11:37AM.  I have been walking for 4.5 hours, 6 miles, and I have another 8 hot, flat miles to go.  

At this point, you merge with Bright Angel Creek.  This is the worst part of the trip.  ~5 miles of open terrain through the desert on a hot, hot day.   Another mile up is Cottonwood, the last water supply until Phantom.  Drain your water now, and refill completely.   Drink, drink, drink.  

About 2 miles up is the Ribbon Falls side trail.  Unfortunately, the bridge was out and I really did not feel like going up to the ford, fording the creek and doubling back while carrying this much gear.  This was a good choice, since I barely made it by dark.  In October, I doubt it’s really running tbh.  

So 5 miles rambling through the desert as the red side cliffs get higher and higher, you get lower and lower, and the day gets hotter and hotter. 

And finally, at last, 11 miles of walking in, you hit the box canyon.  Blessed shade.  3 miles of increasingly tired cornering later, there’s a side hike to Phantom Overlook, 1000 feet straight up, but I was running out of both light and leg strength, so I passed on this.  If you’re coming down South Kaibab, you have 5-6 hours to kill, so go explore the box canyon.  It’s seriously cool, and you’ll never be back here again.  

Go to Phantom Ranch or Bright Angel Campground, check in, drop your bags, run run run down to the river for sunset at the black bridge.  Stay there until dark, then use your headlamp to get back.  

Variant: There’s a variant I’d love to do where I manage to get Cottonwood permits as well, and then do both Ribbon Falls and Phantom Overlook as Day 2 with some more time at Phantom Ranch.  That’s about 7 down slow on the first day, a relaxing early sleep, ~11 (and ~4000 feet of elevation gain/loss nervous_monkey_puppet.jpg) on Day 2, then 2 easy 9-mile days on the climb with dead legs.  

Note: I stayed in the cabins and got 2 hours of sleep.  Preferably, you should just do Bright Angel Campground.  Lows of 70 are perfectly fine for sleeping.  

Day 2:

Wake up.  Walk down to the river, cross... either of the bridges are fine really, black bridge is a slight detour, but ideally this is a short day, adding a mile won’t hurt.  I must admit to being moderately curious about the south side trail from black to gray bridge.  

Two miles running up and along a cliffside trail to the base of Polk Creek. 

Looks like this, that’s a cell phone camera, enjoy.  

You’re still pretty low, but also desert morning, shade, and the river being a giant heatsink.  Then you start the climb out. 1500 feet up to Indian Garden, probably 80% of that climb is a 2-mile stretch of switchbacks.  Lovely red and yellow rock.   

The last mile or two before the campground are flat, exposed to the sun, and still low enough it’s hot hot hot.  80′s are expected.  

And then you finally get to the campground (Trees, shade, toilets, first actual real water supply since Phantom!).  At this point, either:

1) Congrats, you have a campground!  Set up camp, rest, relax, maybe make a Plateau Point (2 miles, 1 hour each way, perfectly flat the whole way) run.  

2) If you’re really fast and have 2 hours/4 miles of buffer in your legs (Iffy, 14 mile day up a 4400 foot cliff), also make a Plateau Point run.  It’s not very pretty at 2:00 in the afternoon, so really don’t feel bad for skipping.  

3) Stare in sheer horror at the 3000 foot cliff that has finally become visible in front of you, and cry inside.  

You are a third of the way up.  

I wasn’t feeling so good, so I went to bed early.  The sun goes down at 6:00 by the way, and it’s so dark you’ll just conk out.  

Day 3: 

So I woke up at 4AM, made a sunrise Plateau Point run (DO THIS) with my tripod, and then headed back.  Packed up the campground, started up about 9:00 or so?  

This is ideal.  You’re headed right up the middle of a crack in the rock, and if you do it this way, you’re making the climb in 60 degree weather in the shade pretty much until the top.  If you took Option #2 or #3 yesterday, the sun comes around, and you’re doing the climb in 75 degree weather in the sun.  

There’s not really much here.  It is exactly a 5 mile, 3000 foot climb with 2 intermediate water supplies split every 1000 feet on 2/1.5/1.5 mile splits.  3 mile resthouse has a decent view.  The most exciting thing past that is the red/yellow line in the rock, and if you do this early enough, the sun will be on that wall.  This took me about 4.5 hours.  

The hike until now has been a 2.5-day test of your ankles.  Downhill, uneven ground, drop-offs, etc.  This is a sheer test of your quad strength and cardio.  Especially as you get closer to 8K feet.  “Officially”, I burned 6200, 4300, 6200 calories across the 3 days.  

The most encouraging thing is seeing the increasingly “tourist” nature of your hiking companions since the serious hikers have proper gear and the less serious ones... do not.  So if you’re watching some little 4 year old kid in Converse, you’re probably not *that* far from the top.  

At the top, stay as close to the Rim as possible.  My ankle gave out the second I got to the top, and I had to hobble half a mile to my hotel.  God help me if there was a shuttle ride or a longer walk.  

Shower, relax, massage some feeling back into your feet, change clothing if you brought extra, THEN meet up with your family members.  And then I was bored, so for sunset, I went around and grabbed this shot of the trail.  

Gear that will keep you from death: 

Satellite comms: 

Garmin satellite comms ($350 for the Inreach Mini + more $$$$ for the actual plan) https://www.rei.com/product/140110/garmin-inreach-mini-2-way-satellite-communicator

I upgraded to the good plan that lets you send infinite random texts (~10 minute delay), and didn’t regret it.  But you need a Panic button that works.  There’s pretty good connectivity, you don’t need one of the $1000 beacons they use in slot canyons, and the cheaper competitors don’t.... actually work.  

Invest in a Garmin.  Set it up.  TEST IT BEFORE YOU LEAVE.  Make sure your relatives know how to contact you over the satellite comms, and that your texts will arrive from some random number.  

Hiking gear: 

Fitted Backpack with both good chest and hip straps and an internal support structure ($2-400)

I’ve been ecstatically happy with my 70L Osprey (Aether?), I also have a 24-inch torso.  

They make different ones for men and women, because the men’s ones put the chest strap straight across the nipples.  You actually care about that.  

Carbon Fiber Hiking Poles tested and fitted ($300)

Get you down steps, get you across rivers, provide support on pushes up, get weight off the ankles.  

Protip: 5cm too long on downhills, 5cm too short on uphills.  

Good boots/shoes ($150-$300)

There’s an inherent tradeoff between ankle support and weight in the boots.  Personally, for a through-hiker with serious gear, I’d go with mid-rise boots

If you were doing a true Rim-to-Rim, they all use trail runners even when they’re not running it.  

Good Boot Socks

Merino Wool is a must, I really like Darn Tough thick boot socks.  

Moisture-wicking underwear

Merino Wool is acceptable

Carbon Fiber is light, you actually care about every ounce. 

Related: You’re about to spend 3 days in the same clothing, it will smell. Merino at least makes it smell better and handles the moisture acceptably.  

Anti-heat gear:

A good sweat-wicking wide-brim hat with holes in the outer band (The name brand is Tilly for $80, I think mine was about $40?)

Good, tough, not too hot hiking pants ($60/pair?)

Ripping is bad, extra pockets are good.  

I use these, note the water resistance and also two pockets, one per leg, with horizontal zippers so you can reach straight down and things can’t fall out of your pockets.  

Some people use those convertible shorts, I’ve never liked the zippers myself.  

Good moisture-wicking t-shirts, or even better polo shirts ($40)

Polo shirts let you pop your collar and cover your entire neck.  

Moisture-wicking keeps you alive when it’s 95.  

SPEND MONEY.  It’s a $40 t-shirt, you just need one, SPEND THE MONEY. 

Light jacket for cold mornings

Consumables:

At least one water bottle and 1 3L Osprey water bladder

Some form of backup water purification

High-carb, high-calorie-to-weight-or-volume, low-fiber food

6000 calories a day * Fiber in an energy bar...

Personal recc: Nutter Butters.  Easy to find in any mid-sized grocery store, can go a week without going stale, etc, etc.  Throw 2-3 family-sized packs into Ziploc, ration one a day.  

Phantom Ranch has a store, you can buy some more food there.  

They also have an all-you-can-eat breakfast, that’s worth investing in if you’re in the cabins.  

Imodium

Any needed meds.  I have contacts so I needed a little bottle of Boston.  

Camping Gear (Skippable if through-hiking or only staying at Phantom):

Lightest possible self-supporting full-frame tent ($300)

https://www.rei.com/product/110817/rei-co-op-quarter-dome-1-tent

The ground is rocky, you probably can’t pitch

There are scorpions and rats.  If you want to try a tarp, I can’t stop you.  

Sleeping bag + pad

Cold, but not that cold at night

Once again, rocky ground.  

Your permit, in a plastic Ziploc bag.  

Camera Gear: 

Your cell phone is very good these days.  

But fine, it’s a once in a lifetime trip.  

Full-frame or APS-C body

High-MP landscape body if you can do it.  

Lenses

24-105/4 for the day hikes.  (NIkon is 24-120/4)

You want the reach more than you want a 24-70/2.8.  

(Optional) 16-35/2.8 for nights/star shots/wide

Long lenses are heavy.  105 is good enough.  

I brought a full-sized tripod, this was simultaneously super-cool and incredibly stupid.  

Maybe a Platypod instead?

Don’t lose your remote trigger the day before like I did.  

Peak Design Clip.  Seriously, amazing little gadget.  

Misc: 

Wallet (Pull the loose change), keys, etc. 

Paper printouts of your South Rim hotel reservations in a Ziploc bag.  

I brought a change of clothing because Grandma was a couple days behind me, but an extra pair of underwear and socks is probably a good idea.   

Extra batteries.  

I blew out 2 camera batteries and an entire 26K mAh battery over 3 days with a camera, a phone, and satellite comms.  

Fitness that will keep you from death:

Broadly Speaking: 

Ankles/Calves/Feet are stability

Quads are power

Hips and back and chest hold the backpack up 

Mine weighed 35 pounds, this is not nothing. 

Cardio matters at the very end, gets outweighed by stability until then.  

1MPH at 7K feet is 3MPH at sea level basically.  And you can do 3 MPH now.  

Arms kinda sorta show up and help a little bit on the hill climbs?

Pretty much your order of priority is top to bottom.  Ankles giving out is a $10000 helicopter ride and months of rehab, legs giving out is a surprise lunchtime and an hour-long rest sitting on a rock somewhere.  

Ankles: 

BALANCE BALANCE BALANCE, also Lyle’s calf rotation starting about 6 months out, ending 4 just in case you injure something. 

Legs: 

Leg press and one-legged leg press.  Also stairs.  Loaded stairs if possible.   Press it UP!  Press, press, press.  I got up to 700 pounds on an incline press.  

Legs, but also Cardio:

Bring your backpack and wear your hiking boots to the gym, take a treadmill, and go slow and highly angled for a long time.  Speed up as you get better.  You use subtly different muscles when you have ankle protection on because the Achilles is no longer able to act as a spring.  Train them hard now.  

If you’ve got a good hill climb near you, be religious about that.  

There are worse things than finding an ice cream shop 10 miles away, walking there with a fully loaded pack for hours and hours, getting the biggest ice cream they have, and Ubering home.  

Hips/Back/etc: 

Hip hinges with perfect back posture.  Deadlifts wreck the back and risk injury, but rack pulls are perfect.  Load up, load up, load up.  

Other back exercises: Cable rows with perfect back posture, Pulldowns with perfect back posture.  

Arms: 

So you did cable rows, right?  Yeah, that’ll get you some good enough arms.  

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

Whatever you end up doing, pause it 2-3 months out.  Avoid injury.  Maintain your lifts, lose 10 pounds, and maybe up the cardio a tad.  

And good luck and enjoy.  

[k--havok]

Camp NaNoWriMo Day 15 & 16 & 17

Not just a double but a TRIPLE because WOW what a mess it’s been!

Day 15

I wrote nada. Nothing! Nothing whatsoever! Instead, I ended up doing homework and playing D&D with my friends and well... I just REALLY lacked writing inspiration. I did do some drawing, still haven’t made those moodboards or a cover for the novel yet, but ah well. 

Day 16

I also barely did any writing on this day. I mean... I guess 66 words hehe execute order 66 is better than nothing but.... I dunno. I really hit a depressive episode on this day and just. I didn’t even do homework?

I dunno where my time when? I woke up super late as I didn’t go to bed until super late and then just. Sat in my bed and suddenly my mom was giving me dinner? So strange. My brain just kinda melted a bit, I think. Probably from stress, especially with school going on and some personal issues but. Meh. 

Hey, 66 words is better than none still! But oof....

Day 17

Today had a really rocky start, lemme tell you. I did NOT work on the homework I really needed too... which means I’m gonna have a hell of a time this weekend. That being said, everything REALLY came together today! I didn’t wake up as late, my morning went smoother, and despite the daunting task I had ahead of myself, I took it nice and steady.

To miss pretty much 2 days is HARD for NaNo. Especially if this were November and I had to do the full 1,667 words, missing two days is hell. Not only do you have to make up for the days you missed, you have to do the writing for the day you’re on! In November, that would be about 5,000 words. Luckily for me, it was a little under 3,000

Still! 3,000 words is a lot! For me that’s about 6-9 pages since I understand how word counts correlate with page count and font and such ;3 

I made sure to get at least some of my homework done first. From there, I then decided to work on the novel in parts. For the first part, I tried to get the latter half of chapter 8 finished. Chapter 8 is def a weird one as its more a transitional chapter. Furthermore, I had NO idea what I wanted to actually write for it! I started thinking about what happened at the end of chapter 7 and decided to have the two side characters introduced discuss and share their opinions on the matter. From there, a surprising amount of backstory was given for my current comic relief character. No idea where it came from! But honestly? It’s so far one of my favorite scenes. 

Afterwards, I took a dinner break and came back to start chapter 9 on my second writing venture of today. It’s also quite strange and a bit of a tonal shift, but this is also the chapter 2 other characters are going to be introduced as well as the antagonist for the book so it’s quite important and I wanted a good build up to them! 

It’s odd because usually I am not much of a panster. I always figured I was a better plotter than anything but at least for this story, I am REALLY enjoying this freedom I have! I dunno if its the tone of the book or the characters that make it work out but I have been really enjoying myself so far. 

I know for some of my more complicated stuff, I prob won’t be able to do the same thing. But perhaps for some of these shorter novel ideas I have it’ll help a lot? Either way, I am really enjoying myself so far. Once Camp ends, I’m gonna have to figure out a way to keep myself writing, ahaha! I wanna try and get this novel finished in a decent amount of time :> 

Oh, and one last thing! I am officially over halfway to my goal! Yippee! Hopefully I can finish this strong and keep up the steam after the fact!

Word Count: 2,886/1000

Total Word Count: 17,058/30,000