#the smaller row is just there so that you can see it without the disclaimer. It says: 'smoking can be deadly' btw

[dol-dee]

Yeah okay I couldnt resist it

I think the third one in the top row is probably the final version but feel free to tell me which one you like best! :D

Also dont smoke people, the coolness factor is NOT worth it lmao

I'm considering doing a lil mock up (as in packaging design) for the cigarettes Dee smokes. Ive already kinda settled on a name and it might be fun!! ....I'll put it on the pile..

[glindaupland]

The Phantom of the Opera | Seoul, South Korea | October 8-14th, 2023 [REVIEWS]

Wow it's about time I posted these reviews that I kept lying about (this week! tomorrow! in 10 years!) Better late than never?

In this post I'll drop a few general things about the production, but the performances are analyzed in my reviews linked here. I recommend reading those all in order since I revisit points about actors I've made previously along the way to avoid repeating myself. Also leaving a disclaimer that these performances are from October so there are some changes in what the actors are doing now (with the exception of Jeon Dong-seok since he left in November) Apologies in advance for my wordiness, but this is more of a "release my feelings for my sake and if anyone else likes it that's cool too" kind of thing? Listen - I wrote a lot of notes on my performances there. So just go in knowing this is the more coherent version of my insane looking notes app!

Before I start I want to thank a few lovely friends who helped me out with this trip because it wouldn't have gone as well as it did without them!

Thank you to @lucygold95 for helping me so much with planning over the past months and for giving me the best time in Busan. Thank you @capitanogiorgio for all the shenanigans we went through and the most special time going to the 1500th and meeting Yoon Young-seok. Thank you to @fadinglandtragedy for the fun talks and the good advice before my trip! The best part of things like this is making friends of course! : )

PERFORMANCE REVIEWS:

| October 8, 2023 | October 11, 2023 | October 12, 2023 | | October 13, 2023 (M) | October 13, 2023 (E) | October 14, 2023 |

STAGE & THEATER

This was as close to the original staging as possible. So I was able to take it in one more (or I guess 6 more?) times post-Broadway closing. The Charlotte Theater is a lot smaller than the Majestic so every view was pretty solid in my opinion, even the second to last row. I took a video of my view from 4th row under the chandelier during the exit music on October 11th so you can see! The angel and chandelier are shown halfway through. I'd say 5th row was almost the cut off for the chandelier drop (that was my spot next day) Broadway seats in this area were always too expensive for me so I'm glad I was able to grab these spots for this production

There were photo zones you can take pics at which you've probably seen. One was a large rose wall, the other was the cute statue of their mascot 오유령. People also take forever lining up for the cast boards for photos and yes I was one of those people. Here's a comparison of the cast boards from the second season (pictures I found when reading old reviews on Naver) and the cast boards now (I forgot to take a photo of one on the top floor though)

I found this review where someone took more detailed clean photos than I did if you're curious about the layout and decorations!

MERCH AND GIFTS

The tickets had these designs! If you booked on Yes24, you received a special envelope and a ticket holder with the face of the Phantom performing for that show

I only didn't receive a second Ju-taek because that was booked on another site - Interpark (bottom middle ticket). I also received paper masks with printed autographs every day I went to commemorate the 200th performance of the run/100th for Seoul and the 1500th overall Korean performance. We used them for the curtain call photos on those two dates (with Jeon Dong-seok then Kim Ju-taek). There are multiple versions of the program book and at the time of writing this I have all except the Daegu one. The first Busan program book was pretty bare and only had the teaser pictures - the same was the case for my Les Mis program book in Busan. -There are different photos in each one, so to me it was worth grabbing them all. My third version signed by Kim Ju-taek is currently on display as you can see below! (The writing says "내 노래를 날게 해 주오 - Make my song take flight") Once again thank you to Lucy for this! 🥹❤️

Here's some of my POTO merch (including a spare cupsleeve from the coffee shop next door, I also had a keyring, but I forgot to show it) RIP to the second program book I sacrificed for scans I still have the pages stored/displayed though! I'm not wasteful! I'll have more to post soon after sharing these reviews

TRANSLATION

Let me emphasize this: my Korean abilities are limited, so don't look to me as the expert on this at all. But I'll still share my notes and perspective as an outsider who's studying The lyrics have changed quite a bit since 2001-2. There are still lines kept or songs that are mostly similar. MOTN had a lot of similarity to 2009-11 even with its changes, STYDI was identical to 2009-11, but Angel of Music was pretty different from even the last season, etc etc. The Phantoms all have unique lines sprinkled here and there, mainly in MOTN (this happens sometimes in Korean musicals). You get some things like random single line changes in some parts depending on the actor or different order/wording of the same lines as well. Just tiny diversions from the script. This is the case for the Christines and Raoul to a lesser extent. Additionally, actors are often permitted to do some occasional improvisation/ad libs. Some unique lines are pretty normal parts of their interpretations now, some appear depending on the feeling of the performance, some are one time only events. I'll mention some of the actor-specific ones and such in their actual reviews, but I have been trying to mark down all of the differences like these for example

Of course, some things obviously have to be adjusted to make sense because of cultural / linguistic reasons. So one example would be the "Wrote...written" line in Notes I. Firmin speaks rudely and informally, but quickly tries adding a more respectful ending particle 요 after Raoul and André give him a shocked 'what did you just say?' kind of look. So "대체 뭘 썼다고 하는 건데...요!" is pretty much like "What the hell are you saying I wrote?" André would look so embarrassed by this each time 🫣

퇴근길 / STAGE DOOR

Stage door doesn't really work the same as it does in places like New York, London, etc. Most of the time if an actor comes out it's more like a quick greeting or chat with the fans. Some actors (not in this case) might sign or take photos in designated spots, but it really depends and it's not so common. It's gotten more restricted ever since COVID as well. 퇴근길 -> "way home from work" is literally what this is called. Dong-seok did wave at us a few times happily after the 200th performance, Gun-ha briefly came out to thank fans after the 1500th while Ceci and I waited to meet Young-seok who had agreed to meet us. I did not have the time (or strength) for the Seung-woo mob, but he usually greets fans after shows.

I literally asked Yoon Young-seok directly on Instagram if Ceci and I could meet him and give him gifts because I figured it didn't hurt to try! When he agreed, my anxiety was not necessarily about meeting an actor, but more about my ability to express my thoughts in another language. But he was truly the sweetest guy and incredibly patient. I think he got that I understood everything he said, but that replying was a whole other challenge. I'm glad I was making enough sense that he was able to get my points and helped me finish sentences if I looked stressed about it 😂 I basically told him I had been planning this trip since the cast announcement because it was too perfect to miss and that I came for 6 shows. I really like to listen to his Phantom on the cast recordings and I thought he made the shows I had seen so far so much fun.

We both said where we were from (the US and France) and he was amazed. He was also shocked when I pulled out my original Korean cast recording (I still laugh thinking about the way he said "와, 세상에!" like "Wow, oh my god!" and enthusiastically took it agreeing to sign when I was mid-way asking him haha) I also thought it was funny when he asked Ceci if she saw his Phantom last season. We wish! But she mentioned she had gone to Busan a few times and he looked very touched and appreciative that we went to multiple performances 🥹 This poor man was tired he signed our things with November (11.13) though and he also spelled Ceci's name wrong first time, but it was the 1500th show though okay. And if he says it's November...who are we to question him? Ceci should also legally change names so he isn't wrong. Anyway, ramble over you can find the art we made for him in this post

OTHER

Here's just bonus fun I had that I will manage to connect to POTO despite it not being POTO because I love doing that. I mean I went because I like these musicals as well (otherwise I would've been foolish enough to go see Ben-Hur but I have, uh, standards for my plots sorry to Park Eun-tae 😭), but it's fun to point out these things. I'm happy to share my show experiences in a different post if anyone's interested in my thoughts on those

Rebecca

I went to see Rebecca, mainly focused on seeing a scheduled date for 이지혜 Lee Ji-hye (Ich) and 장은아 Jang Eun-ah (Mrs Danvers). The whole cast was fantastic. Some Korean musicals have special encore bits they do where the leads sing a part of a song from the show during bows so that was really fun. Unfortunately, we don't get to have fun at POTO like that haha

Lee Ji-hye was in Y&K Phantom as Christine in the same cast as Jeon Dong-seok (Erik), Yoon Young-seok (Gérard Carrière), and Lee Sang-jun (Cholet). Two other cast members in Rebecca were in Y&K as well - 에녹 Enoch (Maxim) who was Philippe and 신영숙 Shin Young-sook (Mrs Danvers) who was Carlotta. Sadly, they had such few shows this season due to a busy schedule, so I couldn't see them (when will trot give Enoch back to musicals). Original Korean ALW Raoul and Y&K Erik 류정한 Ryu Jeong-han was also on rotation as Maxim, but I picked another day for my show so I didn't see him either

Les Misérables

I went to opening night of Les Mis in Busan! It was the Dream Theater, same place POTO played at before. As many of you already know, Choi Jae-rim is playing Jean Valjean at the same time as the Phantom.

I could recognize him easily as the Phantom, but honestly when he appeared at the very start of Les Mis it took me a minute to process that it was him! While I did enjoy his Phantom a lot, I think I enjoyed his Valjean performance a little more. It was only opening night, so curious to see how things develop!

The actor who played Javert that night, 카이 Kai (stage name), was a former Y&K Erik for two seasons too. So many Phantoms!

Frankenstein

On the last day I got to see Dong-seok and Ji-hye once more in a concert for the musical Frankenstein which they have been in together. So have some pics I took without a mask blocking his face!

Ending Note

Thinking back to December 2022 when I said: "Maybe I'll go to Seoul and see Dong-seok once or twice and that's it, I can have my first international POTO" That was funny. That was really very very funny and silly of me to say. 9 performances and 6 of those were POTO! But I'm so grateful and I have zero regrets about it. This is one of the best experiences I've had even if it might look ridiculous to some people to do something like this...I don't care! I hope my crazy essays can help paint a good picture for you!

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both.  The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

[whateveriwant]

Teacher’s Pet

College AU

Summary: It’s the start of a new semester and a student has caught Bucky’s eye. He wants to maintain a professional boundary between them, but can he hold himself back? For how long?

Pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x F!Student!Reader

Word Count: ~9.1k (forgive me)

Warnings: language, Bucky is a narcissist, manipulation/grooming, deceit, abuse of power, praise kink-ish, mentions of depression/suicide ideation, SMUT 18+ (vaginal sex, rough sex, spanking), NON-CON aspects, additional warnings at the end

A/N: Hello! So, I know, it’s not a very original title for a teacher x student fic. But, whatever. Sue me. I need to warn you: dark fic ahead. While I normally like to be transparent in my warnings, in order to avoid spoilers, I have included additional warnings at the end of the fic. So, if you need to, please scroll to the bottom to read them before continuing. (Also, there’s spoilers hidden in the tags. So, feel free to avoid/check those depending on if you want to remain spoiler-free or not.) Anywho, this was written for @nastybuckybarnes​’ Nasty AU Challenge! Congrats on 7k, Lex! As a general disclaimer: I DO NOT condone the actions depicted below. To any and everyone who reads this, I hope you enjoy! Gif from Google.

Bucky writes on the whiteboard, making sure today’s lesson plan is laid out in great detail. He keeps his back to the students entering the classroom, but throws a “Welcome, take a seat” over his shoulder every time he hears the shuffle of feet. It’s the first day of the spring semester and Bucky wants to set a good standard for himself. He has a reputation to uphold, after all.

Five minutes before class starts, Bucky finishes writing out the lesson plan. Finally, he turns to face the class, getting a first look at the fresh meat for this semester.

It’s a relatively small class, but Bucky prefers it that way; it’s easier to get on a more one-on-one basis in smaller classes. Taking a quick head count, Bucky sees a few students still have to arrive. Hopefully they’ll be timely, he thinks. Being late on the first day is a hell of a way to make a first impression.

As if on command, the door at the back of the room opens. A young woman walks in, dressed in heavy winter gear in an attempt to bear the frigid January weather. Her head is slightly bowed as she walks through the room, heading to the front row. Once taking a seat, she shrugs out of her parka.

Bucky’s eyes immediately lock onto her chest – her low-cut blouse providing an ample viewing of her breasts. Well… that’s certainly one way to make a first impression. Checking his watch, he sees class has officially started.

“Hello class,” Bucky greets them. “I’m Professor Barnes and this is Anthropology 385: Primate Evolution. If any of this sounds incorrect, then I’m sorry to say, but I think you’re in the wrong class,” he chuckles.

Several students smile and laugh along with him. Miss Low-Cut Blouse in the first row gives him an especially beaming smile, putting her pearly whites on display in addition to her chest. When no one gets up to leave, Bucky continues his introduction.

“As you can see on the board, we have a lot I want to cover today. So, I think it’d be best to just jump in. Yes?”

The students all agree before taking out their laptops and notebooks, getting ready for the lecture.

“Now, given that this course has prereqs, I’m assuming you’ve all taken an Anthropology class before. But, as a refresher, let’s cover the basics. Anthropology is the study of humans. Men…,” Bucky’s gaze trails to the woman in the front row, lingering on her chest, “...and women.” 

He clears his throat, swiftly turning towards the board – breaking eye contact with her cleavage. Don’t do this, he warns himself. It’s not worth it. With a quick shake of his head, he shifts back into professional mode – immediately diving into the lecture. 

The hour and a half passes without incident. Bucky regularly checks on the class, encouraging them to ask questions should they be confused about anything. Though he sees the woman in the front row furrow her brow several times – looking as if she wants to ask something – she never raises her hand.

“Well class, I think that’s a good place to stop today,” Bucky says, noticing it’s about time to leave. “Keep this up and we should speed through the semester. I'll see you all on Wednesday."

Bucky turns to pack his things as the students exit the classroom. Just as he's finished, a soft voice draws his attention.

"Excuse me, Professor Barnes?"

Bucky turns, seeing Miss Low-Cut Blouse waiting for him. Her jacket is draped over her folded arms – the posture pushing her breasts together.

"I wanted to introduce myself," she extends a hand, giving him her name as they shake. "And I wanted to say that I'm really looking forward to this semester. I've heard good things about this class, and about you in particular, so I'm excited about these next few months."

Bucky smirks. "You kids say good things about me?" He’s half joking, but also happy that his reputation precedes him.

"Oh yeah, I've heard you're the best Anthropology professor in the whole department. I'm not an Anthro major, but I figured by learning from the best, I can hopefully make up for my lack of experience," she smiles shyly.

Oh… she wants to kiss-up to get on my good side, he makes a mental note. While, in the past, Bucky's never been afraid to play favorites – he’s had more teacher’s pets than he can count – he's recently turned over a new leaf. He wants to show restraint in growing fond of such students, even if they look like that.

"Well, I hope I live up to your expectations. And if you ever have questions, don't be afraid to ask for help."

"I’ll keep that in mind. Goodbye, Professor," she smiles, turning to leave the classroom.

Bucky watches her hips sway as she walks out the door. No. Stop it. You said you wouldn't do this again – not after what happened last time, he reminds himself. Bucky lets out a sharp breath to push the image of her out of his head. He grabs his things, heading to his next class.

~~~~~

Wednesday’s class begins the same as Monday: Bucky writes on the board, the students slowly filter in, and he waits for everyone to arrive and settle. Again, Miss Kiss-Up is one of the last to arrive and she takes the same seat in the front row. And, once again, hidden under her coat is another low-cut blouse – though, this one clings a bit tighter to her curves.

Damn. Does this girl own a shirt that covers her collarbones? It’s like she wants me to stare at her tits, he chides.

Bucky goes about his lecture like last time: following the lesson plan on the board, fielding questions whenever they arise, trying not to stare at her voluptuous breasts, and so on. He notices that confused look on her face again, but she still doesn’t raise her hand.

Once class is wrapped up and the other students leave, Bucky’s not surprised to see her lingering behind. He says her name, waving her over to him.

“Anything I can help you with? I couldn’t help but notice you looked a little lost during the lecture.”

She cringes, “You did?”

“I did,” he nods. “Why didn’t you speak up if you were confused?”

She sighs, rubbing her bicep in a self-soothing manner. “Because... I didn’t want to look dumb in front of everyone,” she admits with a pout. “I don’t always understand what you’re talking about, but I don’t want to look like an idiot by asking a stupid question and wasting everybody’s time.”

Bucky fervently shakes his head. “You’re not wasting my time. I’m an educator for a reason, and an essential part of this job is ensuring my students have a firm grasp of the material. So, if you’re leaving here not understanding what we’ve discussed, then I’m not doing my job right."

While he’s hesitant to grow overly fond of her, Bucky’s always been drawn to students like this: those that are reserved. Passive. Submissive, even. Thus, by shifting the blame to his faults in teaching rather than her faults in learning, Bucky tries to comfort her. His tactics seem to work since she gives him a meek smile.

“I have a few minutes before my next class. Is there anything you want to discuss?”

She gently gnaws on her lip. “Even though it’s the truth, is it bad if I say everything?” She winces, embarrassed at her question.

But Bucky doesn't mind her confession. In fact, he quite enjoys it when students have questions; he likes being able to reach into his wealth of knowledge and offer up a confident, concise answer.

“I don’t know if we have time for that now,” he chuckles. “But I’ll tell you what: my office hours are Mondays and Wednesdays from three to five. Come by and we’ll talk about whatever you want, alright?”

“Okay,” she grins widely. “Thank you, Professor. I’ll see you later,” she exits the classroom, a slight pep in her step.

Come three o’clock on the dot, Bucky hears a knock at his office door. "Come in," he beckons, fairly positive he knows who's on the other side. The door opens and in she steps: the student he's been expecting.

"Hi, Professor Barnes. I came like I said I would," she removes her coat, plopping her bag on the floor as she takes a seat on the other side of his desk.

"Well, I’m glad you did," he smiles. "So, where do you want to begin?"

She leans forward to rummage through her bag, giving Bucky a generous eye-full of her cleavage. His cock twitches at the sight, making him shift slightly in his seat.

Stop. You're just going to help her with her work – nothing more, he thinks, willing himself to calm down.

She sits back upright, textbook and notes in hand. Placing the items on his desk, she points at a section of the text. "This says humans are apes, but I thought we're related to monkeys. What's the difference? Aren’t those the same thing?"

Oh… wow. He didn't realize she was having this much trouble grasping the most basic of concepts in the class. It's going to be a long afternoon – and semester, for that matter – if he has to break all of this down for her. Settling in, Bucky readies himself for a long afternoon of tutoring.

~~~~~

Several weeks pass and, despite his initial reluctance, Bucky finds himself once again playing favorites. With his teacher’s pet becoming a frequent flyer in his office – constantly thanking him for his help and lauding him for his academic prowess – it was hard not to grow fond of her.

However, one thing he isn’t too fond of is her apparent refusal to wear anything “conservative”. Well... actually, that’s a lie. The opposite is the truth: he’s too fond of her plunging necklines. But therein lies the problem; having to worry about potentially popping a boner every time she leans across his desk is a big inconvenience. Thus, after a few weeks of constantly staring at her chest, Bucky decided to move her chair beside him.

Unfortunately, while Bucky normally prides himself on his intelligence and his ability to problem solve, this latest idea is one of the worst he’s ever had.

Instead of worrying about simply seeing her breasts across the desk, Bucky now has to worry about feeling them as she leans to point at the text. Not only that, but every time he takes a deep breath to calm himself, the heady scent of her perfume floods his senses – drowning him in even deeper desire for her. 

Though this change in seating is only tormenting him further, Bucky can’t take back his decision and have her return to the other side of his desk; that would be admitting defeat – admitting he was wrong – and he’s not willing to do that. So, he just has to suck it up and deal with it. 

She’s sitting next to him like always – a soft crinkle in her brow as Bucky discusses their upcoming exam.

"As I said in class, there'll be a map of Africa and a list of significant fossils. You'll have to match the fossil to its corresponding location of discovery, then explain why that specimen was significant."

"Okay,” she nods. “So, if this part has an arrow pointing to it…," she extends her arm towards the page, going to indicate a location with the tip of her pencil.

However, as she reaches out, the pencil suddenly falls from her grasp. Before Bucky can reach down to grab it for her, she bends over. Her hand darts to his thigh, stabilizing herself as she reaches down.

He gasps as blood quickly rushes to his dick, inhaling a lungful of her intoxicating perfume. Her grip tightens slightly as she stretches further, forcing Bucky to stifle a groan.

She removes her hand from his leg as she sits back up. "Sorry, I'm a clutz," she blows the dust off of her pencil.

Bucky watches how her lips purse – imagining how they'd look wrapped around his aching cock. No. You promised: not again, his conscience tells him.

"So, if this part has an arrow pointing to it…," she begins again, gesturing with her pencil.

Bucky tunes out her question, simply nodding along to whatever she asks him. All he can think about right now is the hard-on straining against his slacks. He knows how he'll have to rectify that situation once she leaves. Today’s office hours won't end soon enough.

~~~~~

As Bucky's grading the exams for the class, he's pleased with the results so far. Of the half he's already marked, most students received A's or B's. Grabbing the next one off of the pile, he smiles as he sees it's his teacher’s pet. 

Looking through her test, he's a bit perplexed by her answers. She has the right idea and her responses start out strongly, but for many of them, she suddenly veers off – rapidly heading in the wrong direction. Once he finishes looking through her exam, he marks 70/100 on the cover; a decent grade, but one that could definitely see some improvement.

He moves onto the next paper, wanting to finish grading tonight so he can hand them back tomorrow.

Come the next day, Bucky sets the stack of graded papers on the back row – letting the students grab them as soon they enter. For once, his teacher’s pet doesn’t show up one minute before class begins. Rather, she’s one of the first through the door – seemingly very eager to see her grade.

Bucky watches as she rifles through the pile. The weather’s been warming up slightly, causing her to forego the heavy parka in favor of a light jacket – already unzipped to showcase her always plunging neckline.

She finds her test, pulling it out and looking it over right there. Her face falls upon seeing her grade. She stays cemented to the spot, unable to do anything other than flip wildly through her test. As a line starts to gather behind her, another student asks her to move out of the way. She blindly walks to the front row, slumping into her seat once she arrives.

Throughout the lecture, she barely makes eye contact with Bucky – a stark contrast to her usual rapt attention. And once class is over, she quickly packs her things and darts out of the room – not bothering to stay behind for a few minutes like she normally does.

Bucky’s disconcerted by her behavior. It’s not the first time he’s seen a student be upset about their grade, but it's the fact that it’s her who’s glum that has him troubled. He heads to his next class feeling a tinge of remorse – an emotion he’s not very familiar with. 

During his office hours, Bucky waits for her to show up like every other day. An hour and a half passes and she doesn’t arrive. Bucky tries distracting himself – answering emails, planning lectures, researching – but his eyes flit to the door every few minutes.

Finally, ten minutes before he needs to leave for his next class, someone knocks on his door. He straightens himself, making sure he doesn’t look like a disheveled mess, before telling the person to enter.

At the sight of her, Bucky releases a breath he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding.

She takes a seat across from him, not bothering to scoot the chair around to the other side of the desk. The distance separating them makes him feel uneasy, estranged. She hardly meets his eye – instead, focusing on her jacket sleeve.

“You’re a little late today. I was getting worried someone might have kidnapped you,” he attempts joking, wanting to lighten her obviously somber mood.

“Yeah, I… uh… had something I needed to do,” she says in a noncommittal tone.

“Well, you’re here now,” he smiles, relieved. “I've got class in a few minutes, but what’s up?”

She looks up at him and shrugs, wrapping her arms around her torso in a self-hug. “I dunno. I guess I’m kinda bummed I didn’t do as well on the test as I’d hoped.”

He nods gently. While he’s rarely disappointed with his own work, Bucky can sympathize with her feelings at this moment.

“I just… I studied so hard for that exam – you know that. And I really tried my best to do a good job. But now I just feel so stupid since I barely passed,” she frowns, her eyes starting to water as she drops her chin.

"Hey," Bucky reaches his hand across the desk, drawing her attention back up to him. "You're not stupid, okay? You're just struggling a bit. We all experience that sometimes." While Bucky likes to pretend he has no faults, he's had his own hardships in the past – some more recently than others.

"I guess," she shrugs again. "I just can't help but feel that no matter how hard I try, I'm never gonna be as good as I want to be," her eyes continue to water, threatening to spill over. "And I don't want to keep feeling like this. I want to do better. I want my grade to reflect all the effort I put into this class."

This isn't the first time Bucky's heard something like this. Though she didn't verbatim say she’s looking for a way to "boost her grade", Bucky has a feeling that's what she's implying.

Seeing her in this broken, vulnerable state, a little voice goes off in the back of his head – telling him a solution to her problem, telling him to break his promise of ‘not again’.

But, just as quickly as that devil on his shoulder starts whispering in his ear, Bucky shakes the ideas out of his mind. He’s trying to be a different man now; a decent man. Thus, he decides to take the respectful, professional, morally-upstanding road.

"I think you just need to keep studying hard and you'll eventually see the pay-off," he tells her.

Her dejection visibly increases, tugging on his heart strings. Bucky rushes to speak again, not wanting to leave her completely hopeless.

"But, I'll tell you what: you keep coming in every office hours and I'll keep working with you until you know this stuff like the back of your hand. Hell, you can even come in on Tuesdays and Thursdays; I'm usually here around the same time, so I'll help you even then," he smiles encouragingly.

"Really? Are you sure that's not taking up too much of your time?" Her brow creases, worry overtaking her expression.

"Not at all. Helping you is the best part of my day," he says honestly. Sitting with her is truly the highlight of his Mondays and Wednesdays.

"Well, alright. If you say so," she says sheepishly.

"It's the truth," he smiles. Checking his watch, he sees he needs to leave soon. "But, as much as I'd love to help you right now, I'm afraid I have to get to my next class."

"Of course," she stands quickly, grabbing her things. "Thank you so much, Professor Barnes. I'll see you later, then."

"See you later," he returns her sentiment as she heads out the door. He grins widely once she's left, glad he was able to make her feel better without resorting to his past schemes.

~~~~~

She takes him up on his offer and starts visiting his office every Monday through Thursday, staying as long as physically possible. Bucky doesn't mind dedicating the extra time to helping her; he actually really enjoys the extended one-on-one time. 

While she’s still far from being his star pupil, Bucky finds her dedication to learning admirable and endearing. And, in truth, Bucky’s seen a significant improvement in her retention of the material – her hard work seemingly paying off.

“So, the Denisovans are important because they were a now-extinct species that was able to breed with modern humans. And the first specimen found was a finger bone in a Siberian cave,” she recites without looking at her notes.

“That’s the gist of it, yeah,” Bucky smiles, proud of her growth. “Just hash that out a little more and you’re golden. But you’ve done excellent so far.” He places his hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze in encouragement. 

She stiffens for a second before relaxing, looking down at her lap. “T-thank you... that’s very kind, Professor Barnes,” she says softly, avoiding his gaze as she fights a smile.

Oh… that’s interesting. It’s cute, shy, Bucky notes. That could be fun to play with.... He lets his thoughts trail off, not even bothering to stop himself when his mind starts wandering into unsavory territory.

~~~~~

A few more weeks pass and the next exam draws near. His pet has been steadily improving each day and Bucky couldn’t be happier. Not only is he proud of her academic improvements under his tutelage, but also the way he’s gotten her to blossom.

Bucky’s been laying the praise on thick, loving the way he’s gotten her to preen at his words. While she was reluctant to accept his compliments at first, as Bucky got her accustomed to the flattery, she started readily accepting his words. She’s still that timid girl that caught his eye all those months ago, but he’s been able to mold her into something else – someone more appreciative, more receptive.

And as these last few weeks have passed, Bucky’s all but abandoned his promise from the beginning of the semester. But can you blame him? With those sweet looks and low-cut shirts of hers, Bucky’s surprised he was even able to hold out for this long.

It’s the Thursday before the next exam. She’s in his office, sitting beside him as usual. The weather is finally starting to warm up – allowing her to pair a short skirt with her v-neck.

Bucky sits silently as she recites the material, watching how she hardly has to reference her notes. A smile tugs at his lips; she's come so far since the beginning of the semester. Once she finishes talking, she looks at him – waiting for his assessment.

His answer comes in the form of a beaming grin, signaling that he's pleased with her work. She smiles back just as widely, happy not only because of her accomplishments, but also because she's impressed him.

"I think you've got this stuff. Monday's exam should be no sweat."

"Really?" She gives him a hopeful look.

He nods, "Really.”

"Well... that's a relief," she sighs, laughing slightly.

He chuckles along with her, giving her thigh a light pat in amusement. She doesn't flinch at the contact, prompting him to keep his hand on her leg. He's never touched her this way before – never felt the softness of her skin under his palm – but Bucky can tell he's already addicted to the feeling.

"You’ve done incredibly well lately. I'm really proud of you," he says, looking intently at her.

"Thank you, Professor," she responds automatically, smiling in that way he adores.

His eyes focus on her mouth – the shine of her gloss and pout of her lip as enticing as ever. His hand starts creeping up her thigh, inching towards her hemline. Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly before returning to their normal size, quickly schooling her expression.

Bucky starts leaning towards her, wanting to discover if she tastes as sweet as he’s been imagining. She mirrors his movements, carefully leaning into him. 

Just as mere centimeters separate their mouths, a knock sounds at the door – making them both quickly pull back. The door opens before Bucky even has a chance to tell the person to enter.

“You still in here, Barnes? Shouldn’t you be–” the voice halts mid-sentence. It’s one of his colleagues, Maria Hill. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were with a student.”

“It’s fine,” he says tersely. “Do you need something, Maria? We’re kind of busy here."

Her eyes flit between the two of them, thankfully not seeing his hand under the desk. “Well, I was just headed to the department meeting and noticed your light was still on. I wasn’t sure if you were in here since you’re usually very punctual to these.”

Shit. He completely forgot about the mandatory meeting this afternoon – his mind too engrossed with thoughts about his pet.

“Damn it,” he says under his breath, too quietly for Maria to hear. “Thank you for reminding me. I’ll... just... finish up here and then meet you there.” Bucky’s been working up to this moment and he’s determined to finally get a taste of his pet's lips; maybe also a slight tease under her skirt if time permits.

“I don’t mind waiting. We can walk together,” Maria offers, planting herself in the doorway.

Fuck. He's not going to be able to do what he wants with her standing there.

He sighs heavily. "Alright, we can do that,” he gives her a tight-lipped smile, trying to hide his annoyance. 

Bucky carefully removes his hand from his pet’s thigh, making sure Maria doesn’t notice the movement. They both pack their things as Maria waits expectantly. As all three of them exit the room, Bucky turns to his pet, needing to keep up a purely professional facade now that they have a witness.

"You did great work today. Just keep studying over the weekend and you'll be prepared for Monday's exam."

"Thank you, Professor, I will. See you on Monday," she smiles shyly before turning to walk in the opposite direction.

He watches her skirt swish as she walks, wishing he could've gotten his hands under it. He turns to Maria, holding out his hand to let her lead the way.

"Shall we?" He smiles, wanting to maintain a respectable image in her eyes. 

Once Maria turns her back to him and starts walking, Bucky drops the smile – quickly replacing it with a glower he bores into the back of her head. He was so close to finally getting what he's been waiting for. 

But it's no matter. He's sure it won't be long until him and his pet are right back to where they left off.

~~~~~

Bucky drops the graded papers on the back row. He stomps to the front of the classroom, roughly putting his belongings down as he goes to write on the board.

He's in a sour mood because he hasn't seen his pet since Maria interrupted them six days ago. Sure, she showed up for the exam on Monday, but she didn't visit his office later that day nor the following day. Bucky was hoping to pick back up from last time, but he won't get that opportunity if he can't get her alone.

He finishes writing out the lesson plan, turning around to eye the class. There's less than three minutes before he’s supposed to begin, but she hasn't shown up yet. Bucky watches the clock and, when the hour arrives, she still never walks in.

Bucky huffs, jumping into the lecture for the students who did come to class. Throughout the hour and a half, his eyes continue to stray to her vacant seat – missing that pretty smile and even prettier cleavage of hers. The rest of the lecture trudges along without his pet there to amuse him.

Following his next few classes, Bucky heads to his office as usual. However, upon approaching his door, he’s met with a concerning discovery.

“What the fuck?” He hisses under his breath, hastening his steps. His door is ajar – the handle bent at an odd angle, nearly busted off completely. “Who the fuck did this?” He whispers incredulously.

Walking into his office, he does a quick survey of the room. Nothing seems out of place: not his papers, books, or anything else. Whoever tampered with his door must not have actually entered the room.

That doesn’t mean he’s any less perturbed by the finding, though. Why would someone go through all of this for no apparent reason? Break his door just to cause a scene? He can’t make sense of it.

Bucky keeps the door propped open for fear of further damaging it. He reports the problem to the higher-ups – being told it can't be fixed until tomorrow morning – before busying himself at his desk.

With less than 20 minutes left in his office hours, Bucky hears a set of footsteps coming down the hall. He looks up from his work, seeing the student he's been impatiently waiting to get alone the past several days. She smiles at him before looking at the broken door, expression shifting to concern.

"What happened here?" She points to the door.

"Hell if I know. It was like that when I got here," he shakes his head. "Damn miscreants. Defacing school property. And my office of all places," he scowls.

"Oh… I'm so sorry, Professor," she pouts.

He waves his hand dismissively, wanting to quickly move past the subject now that she's showed up. "It'll be fixed soon enough. But I'm happy to see you here. I was beginning to get worried." And annoyed, he adds in his mind.

She looks down at her feet, shying away from his gaze. "I'm sorry. I was feeling a little under the weather, and so wasn't able to visit your office the past few days." She looks up at him, giving him a small smile. "But I'm feeling much better now, and so wanted to stop by."

Bucky's utterly relieved. His pet wasn't purposefully avoiding him – she was just unwell. And even better, the first thing she did once she felt better was come to see him.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad you're feeling well again."

"I… also might've stopped by to see if I could get my test back," she cringes.

Bucky withholds a frown. This impromptu visit of hers wasn't just to say hello, but also to acquire something from him. He would normally be much more peeved at such a request – feeling like he's been relegated to second place – but one look at her sweet face dispels those thoughts.

"Normally, I wouldn't do this," he rummages through the papers on his desk. "You know my rule about needing to show up to class to collect one's work," finding her test, he pulls it out. "But, for you… I'm willing to break a few rules," he smirks, extending the exam towards her.

She takes it gratefully. Her eyes widen at the score written on the front: 115/100. She looks back at him, shock and awe overtaking her face as she unsteadily drops her bag.

Bucky chuckles at her reaction; he knew that would please her.

“You did an exemplary job,” he tells her earnestly. She’s significantly improved since the beginning of the semester, greatly surprising him. “You more than earned those extra points.”

“Wow… I-I don’t even know what to say. Thank you, Professor.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” he shakes his head. Though, he does enjoy hearing her say that. “That was all you. Nothing to do with me.”

“Of course I have to thank you,” she rounds his desk, claiming her usual spot beside him. “If you hadn’t have helped me so much, there’s no way I would’ve done this good.” She scoots closer to him, the length of her exposed leg pressed against his slacks. Gingerly, she places her hand on his thigh. “Truly, I want to thank you, Professor Barnes,” her voice drips with sweetness.

Bucky looks down at her hand before dragging his eyes back up to her face. She bites her lip and lightly squeezes his leg – her normally reserved nature giving way to a more brazen one. 

This is it: the moment he’s been working towards – the torturous wait finally coming to an end.

She trails her hand towards his crotch, silently communicating how she plans to thank him. Just as he starts leaning in to taste her mouth, something draws his attention from the corner of his eye.

“Wait,” he stills her hand. “We can’t do this.”

Her brow furrows in confusion. “W-what? I thought you wanted–”

“Not here,” he clarifies. “We can’t do this here,” he nods towards the open door. Anyone could walk by and catch them – spelling disaster. He checks his watch; there’s less than 10 minutes until his next class. “And we don’t have enough time for what I want to do anyway.” He’s not going to settle for a simple handie after denying himself for so long.

He sighs. Just his fucking luck, right? His door won't be fixed until tomorrow afternoon, and he can’t take her back to his house. He’s learned his lesson after last time. That’s one new rule he’ll definitely never break.

“Maybe I can find us a hotel or–”

“I don’t have a roommate,” she says quickly. “I live in the dorms, but my roommate moved out last semester. I could sneak you in tonight when my RA takes his smoke break. Would that work?” She looks at him hopefully.

Bucky can’t remember the last time he stepped foot in a dormitory. And honestly… the prospect doesn’t sound incredibly appealing. However, what does sound appealing is getting under her skirt as soon as possible.

“Okay, that works.”

“Great!” She beams. “Williams Hall at around 11 p.m. I’ll meet you at the south entrance.” She stands suddenly, grabbing her things and walking to the door. Just as she steps under the archway, she turns and winks. “See you tonight, Professor.”

He watches her leave without getting so much as a kiss. What a little tease, he chides. But still, he can’t wait until tonight.

~~~~~

Bucky feels foolish having to sneak around like a horny teenager. He never thought he’d lower himself to such standards, yet here he is: hoodie pulled over his head as he’s ushered through the halls of her dorm.

Once inside her room, he drops his hood, taking in the space. It’s a standard dorm room: two sets of desks, dressers, twin beds, and so on; though, one half of the room is barren while the other is cluttered. It’s not an ideal environment, but Bucky doesn’t really give a shit at this point.

She closes the door before rounding him, standing between him and the bed. In her tank top and shorts, Bucky lets his eyes wander her body – licking his lips in anticipation of seeing what lies beneath.

He surges forward, placing his hands on her face. “Finally,” he captures her mouth in a heated kiss. “I’ve been fucking waiting to get you to myself," he pants.

He pulls her back to his mouth, letting his hands run down her body until he cups her bottom. Her body is rigid against his, but with a little coaxing by way of kneading her ass, he gets her to return his fervor.

“Let me thank you, Professor Barnes,” she breathes between kisses, voice so low he can barely hear her. “Let me show you how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

That hazy, lust-filled look in her eyes makes his cock harden. He kisses her again, tugging her lip between his teeth as their mouths part.

“Go on, then,” he nods towards the bed. “Show me.”

She steps back, ridding herself of all clothing apart from her bra. She gives him a saucy wink before turning and climbing up on the bed. Planting herself on her hands and knees, she keeps her back to him as she faces the headboard.

The little minx. How did she know this is his favorite position? While he might’ve preferred missionary in this instance – getting to see her face twisted in pleasure – he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Bucky swiftly removes his clothing, clambering up behind her once he's bare. He gives her a quick spank, jolting her forward and making her squeak. He likes it a little rough; he’s sure she won’t mind.

Taking himself in hand, he runs the head over her slit – feeling the wetness that’s pooled there. He keeps one hand on her hip as he lines himself up. Just as he's poised at her entrance, he leans forward, draping himself over her back.

“Better brace yourself, Pet,” he growls, slamming into her in one harsh thrust.

A yelp escapes her mouth as he groans – his cock a snug fit within her walls.

“Fuck!” he hisses in her ear. He rolls his hips against her, letting her get accommodated to the stretch. “If I knew your little pussy was this tight, I would’ve fucked it a lot sooner.”

He sits back up, returning to a kneeled position behind her. Grabbing her by the hips, he starts a rapid pace. Whines, grunts, and clapping flesh create a lewd symphony as they reverberate throughout the room. On a particularly deep thrust, she whimpers loudly.

“Yeah? You like that?” He pants.

She gives him a small nod in response.

“No, no. You’re a big girl. Use your words,” Bucky digs his fingers into her skin, likely forming bruises along her hips. “Be a good pet and tell your professor how much you like his cock pounding into you.”

She doesn’t speak – just drops to rest on her forearms.

“Oh, come on. Gone all quiet on me now?” He laughs airily. “I thought you were going to show how much you appreciate me,” he suddenly stills as he’s fully seated in her, grinding against her ass.

The motion draws a moan from her – the sound slightly muffled.

“Nothing to say? Rendered speechless?” He taunts. “That’s alright. I’ll talk enough for the both of us,” he starts moving again, faster this time. “Your pussy’s so fucking wet it’s drowning my cock,” he looks down, seeing her arousal coating both of their thighs.

Bucky lets go of her hips to give a slap to both cheeks. “And this ass,” he places one hand back on her hip while the other grabs a generous handful of her behind. “I thought it looked good under those little skirts of yours, but it looks even better bouncing against my cock.”

His eyes trail up her back, seeing the clasp of the bra she’s still wearing.

“But you know what I’ve been dying to see?” He grabs the back of her neck, pulling her up so she’s flush against him. “These tits you’ve been teasing me with all semester.” Not even bothering to properly remove the garment, he yanks the cups down, watching her breasts jiggle with each snap of his hips. “Fucking beautiful,” he brings a hand up to palm one. 

He looks to her face, wanting to see the pleasure he’s giving her. However, instead of a blissed-out expression like he expects, Bucky sees tears staining her cheeks. 

He immediately stops thrusting. “Whoa! Hey, what’s wrong?” He turns her head to him, looking over her face.

“N-nothing,” she finally speaks. “Keep going.”

“You’re sure?” Concern floods his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.” While he’s not the gentlest of lovers, Bucky’s not a sadist.

“You’re not,” she shakes her head. Taking his hand, she places it back on her breast. “Keep going, please,” she gives him a desperate look, wiggling against him.

At her plea, Bucky hesitantly starts moving again, watching her face closely. As she moans and scrunches her eyes shut in pleasure, Bucky resumes his previous quick pace.

“Yes! Oh God, just like that,” she talks freely, her voice returning out of nowhere. She drops her hand to circle her clit – a few seconds later gasping loudly as she cums.

“Shit!” He rasps as she clenches around him. He squeezes her hip and breast tightly – giving a few more brutal thrusts – before throwing his head back, spilling inside her.

He drops them both to the bed, making sure not to crush her as he quickly rolls to the side. She lays on her stomach and he on his back as they catch their breath. 

Craning his neck to look at her, Bucky sees her cheeks are still wet with tears. “What happened?” He reaches out, gently wiping her face.

Exhausted, she half-heartedly shrugs a shoulder. “I-I guess it was... so... good you made me cry,” she stutters, chuckling awkwardly.

“Well... that’s certainly a first,” he laughs. “You’re welcome, I suppose.” He wipes her face dry before giving one last spank to her ass. “I think you’ve shown how thankful you are.”

“Oh…,” she smirks, “...you have no idea how thankful I am right now.”

~~~~~

Bucky sits at his desk while looking over next week’s lesson plan. The repairman came earlier this morning and replaced his damaged door, allowing Bucky to shut his office and work in peace. 

Feeling a migraine starting to develop, he massages his temples gently. He didn’t get much sleep last night after he snuck out of his pet’s dorm sometime around 1:30. Next time, he’s going to insist they’re finished before midnight – he’s not as spry as he once was, and not even her pussy can tempt him to get less than six hours of sleep again.

A loud knock sounds against his door, ringing through his head. He groans and more forcefully rubs his temples as he tells the person to come in. Despite the headache, Bucky smiles upon seeing his pet enter.

She’s dressed differently than normal, trading her skirt for jeans and v-neck for a button up – only the top one undone. She sits across from him, making no move to drag her chair around the desk.

“What’s with the get-up?” He gestures to her outfit. “You have an interview later? Need some advice? I could give you a tip or two,” he smirks.

She stares coolly at him, not amused by his innuendo.

“And why are you sitting on that side? Come on over to your usual spot,” he stands, making to drag her chair around to him.

“Please sit down, Professor Barnes,” she says harshly.

Her bluntness catches him off guard. Regardless, he does as she asks – retaking his seat. “Uh… okay. Something the matter, sweetheart? You’re acting a little strange.”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she pulls her laptop out of her bag, typing away for a second before placing it on his desk. She turns it around to show him the screen, hitting the spacebar to play a video. 

Bucky’s jaw nearly drops as he watches himself standing in her dorm room, kissing her fiercely.

His eyes dart up to her face – seeing her wholly neutral expression – before looking back at the screen. The footage shows the length of her bed, the camera seemingly hidden by the headboard. His video-self grabs her ass as he continues kissing her. “Go on, then. Show me,” Bucky hears himself say through the speaker.

“Uh… sweetheart… what is this?” He asks carefully.

“Shh,” she puts a finger to her lips. “Keep watching.”

Her video-self removes her clothes before turning around to face the camera. Though Bucky remembers her enthusiastic expression in real life, on the screen, she looks terrified: brows drawn together in consternation, a frown tugging at her lips.

Bucky removes his clothing before joining her on the bed, giving her a spank. She takes a bated breath as he leans over her. “Better brace yourself, Pet,” he says. Her face immediately scrunches up in pain as he enters her, contrasting sharply with his own blissful expression. As his on-screen self starts thrusting quickly, Bucky decides he’s seen enough.

“Seriously, what is this?” He looks at her sharply. “Why was this filmed? If someone sees this, I could get in a lot of trouble."

Slowly, she drags her eyes away from the screen – coming to look at him calmly.

“I know," she deadpans. She gives him a dupe smile before looking back at the screen.

“What? Then why–”

“Wait,” she interrupts him. “You’re missing the good part.”

Bucky watches as her on-screen self continues to make painful faces, baring her teeth as she winces. As he talks to her on the recording, tears start running down her cheeks. She drops to her forearms and covers her mouth with a hand, holding back what look like sobs.

"I-I don't understand…," Bucky says, confusion clouding his head.

The recording continues for a bit longer – filled with his salacious words and her pitiful grimaces – before coming to an end right as Bucky grips the top of her bra and tears it down. She shuts the laptop as Bucky sits stunned.

“W-why was this filmed?” He repeats the only coherent thought in his mind.

“Do you remember when I told you my roommate moved out last semester?” She ignores his question. “I never told you why she moved out.”

She slowly stands and rounds his desk, coming to sit atop it directly in front of him.

“She actually dropped out of school entirely,” her face falls. “You see, the guy she’d been seeing broke her heart. She used to tell me all about him: how smart he was, how much he doted on her, how he made her feel like one-of-a-kind. He sounded like a great guy.

"So color me surprised when, out of the blue, she ran in sobbing saying he'd dumped her one day," she frowns deeply. "But it wasn't just some high school break-up, no. This asshole crushed her. He made her feel worthless, like she was just a piece of meat that meant absolutely nothing to him."

She lets out a sharp scoff. "And apparently, this guy had a history of doing this: leading girls on – telling them exactly what they wanted to hear in order to get what he wanted – until he had his fill and tossed them aside like garbage. My friend was just another in a long line of broken hearts.

"But, unlike the other girls, my friend was… very... fragile," sorrow overtakes her features. "She took his rejection hard, spiraling and questioning everything about herself: her merit, her value…," her voice gets thick with tears, "...her life."

Taking a deep breath, she composes herself before continuing. "But, thankfully, she's doing better now – not great, but better. She's been getting help and slowly improving these past few months, and I'm happy for her," she smiles.

Bucky stares at her incredulously. What the hell is she talking about? Why should I give a fuck about this? He thinks.

"Um… I have to ask: why is this relevant?" His brow furrows in annoyance.

"Oh, silly me," she smacks her head. "I forgot to mention something very important," she says in a patronizing voice. "My friend... is Amanda Griffiths. You know, one of your former students."

Bucky's whole body tenses. His heartbeat pounds in his ears.

“Or… I guess, she was a little more than just a student of yours," her lip curls in disgust. "For a time, that is.”

Bucky hasn’t seen or heard a peep about Amanda since last November. He knew she didn’t take the rejection easily – she literally had a breakdown right on his porch for all of his neighbors to see – but he didn’t realize things were that bad. If he had known she would go off the rails, maybe he would’ve been more delicate when breaking things off with her. Maybe.

“I’m sorry to hear that happened to her,” she says softly, trying to sound sympathetic. “But, I’m glad she’s doing better now.”

“Don’t pretend like you give a shit,” she spits. “You only care about yourself and how others perceive you. I only told you all of that to give some context into why I did this.”

Bucky’s irritated she didn’t accept his condolences. “And what is it that you did, huh?” He jibes. “Filmed some amateur porn to watch later when you're lonely?"

She lets out a humorless bark of laughter. “Please. Give me a break. I've had much better in bed than the likes of you,” she rolls her eyes. "But no, that’s not all that I did.”

Bucky sneers at her self-assured tone. “Then please enlighten me," he says sarcastically. "What is it you did?”

“Why, Professor Barnes...” she leans in, trailing a finger along his jaw, “...I played you for a fool.” She sits back, her mouth half twisted up in a grin. 

“You held out longer than I expected, I’ll give you that. But still, it was so easy getting you to go after me. It didn’t take much; just a few slutty tops, bashful looks, and strokes of that enormous ego of yours – ‘You’re so smart, Professor Barnes. You’re the best professor I’ve ever had. I wish all of my professors were like you.’ – and you were practically drooling at the sight of me.” She repeats her words from earlier in the semester, using a mocking voice this time around.

“If you had stopped admiring your own dick for five seconds to check school records, you would’ve seen I’m on the Dean’s list. I mean, really? Did you honestly think I was that clueless?” She chuckles darkly. “Oh... but I guess you wouldn’t care anyway. You get off on showing everyone how ‘great’ and ‘smart’ you are,” she uses air quotes to ridicule him.

Bucky feels anger bubbling in his gut, being talked down to like a child. Who does she think she is? Some “mastermind” that pulled a fast one over on me?

“So… what? You played dumb just to sleep with me? To show you could woo me into bed?” He snarks. Is that all?

"You're seriously still underestimating me, Professor Barnes?" She scoffs. "I didn't do this just to put you in your place," she raises a challenging brow. "I did it to get you fired."

Bucky's stomach drops. She wouldn't dare.

"You think you're untouchable. You think that you can do whatever – fuck over whoever – you want and not face any consequences," she states matter-of-factly. "I've come to show you that you're wrong. That judgement day has finally come."

Bucky feels like he's going to be sick. His career, his livelihood, his reputation – all of that can be ruined in the blink of an eye.

"I'll be frank…," her voice pulls him out of his swirling thoughts, "...that wasn't my initial intention when I first planned this. I just wanted to knock you down a peg or two, you know? Hurt you like you hurt Amanda."

She puts a finger on her cheek as if to show she's deep in thought. "But then I got to thinking: why stop at getting revenge for just my friend? What about all the other students you've hurt? And the others you'll probably hurt in the future. Who's going to look out for them?" She drops her hand, giving him an intense look. 

"After I realized that, it was obvious what needed to be done."

She chuckles, "Of course, I needed to make sure I had some kind of evidence that could be used against you; that, when the time came, it wasn't just your word against mine." Gently, she pats the laptop sitting beside her. "That's why I needed to get this little piece of insurance."

She twists her head back, nodding towards the door. “Sorry about that by the way,” she grins, not actually meaning her words. “I needed to get you somewhere that I could set everything up.”

Bucky blinks dumbly at her. She really had been playing him for a fool – acting very convincingly as an air-headed student the whole semester. He swallows thickly. She's got his balls in a vice and she knows it.

However, having video proof of their sordid affair sparks an idea in Bucky. It's a long shot, but it might let him retake control of the situation – maybe get a leg up on her. He musters up as much courage as possible, pretending he isn't scared shitless by her threat.

“And if you release that video, you think things will bode well for you? That my reputation is the only one that’ll be tarnished?" He fires back. "You’re delusional if you think anyone will take you seriously once they think you slept your way to the Dean’s list,” he raises a brow, his confidence rapidly returning.

She laughs loudly in his face, immediately draining all of his bravado. “You’re joking, right? You think I can’t convince the administrative office that I was pressured into sleeping with you?” Her expression quickly shifts into a state of distress, brow furrowing and lip quivering. “Dean Wilson, he told me I had to or else he’d fail me. I didn’t think I had another choice,” she says pathetically, feigning innocence.

“Please,” she scoffs, shifting back into a cold demeanor. “You’d be fired in a heartbeat and I’d be branded a ‘survivor’.” She pauses for a moment. “Come to think of it… why should I stop at the school? Why not just take it straight to the police?”

“The police?” His eyes go wide. “Why would they get involved? The only illegal thing about that video is that it was filmed without my permission,” he states plainly. While sleeping with his students is ethically wrong, it’s not illegal. If anything, taking it to the police would only hurt her.

“Were we not watching the same video?” She asks rhetorically. “Did you not see my stellar acting skills on full display? The tears and such?” She waves a hand in front of her face, looking at Bucky like he’s an idiot. “I think it’d be pretty easy to spin all of that as... rape, don’t you think?” The corner of her mouth curves upward in a wicked grin.

“And honestly, who do you think they’ll believe in the end? The student with a spotless record, or the professor who – with a little bit of digging – they’ll find has a closet full of skeletons?”

Silence overtakes the room. She stares him down, silently challenging him – fire burning behind her eyes.

She’s right. No matter what, she’s got the upper hand and there’s nothing he can do – no way he can claw himself out of this. 

This is it. It’s over. He’s lost, been bested. And by some damn college girl, no less. 

Bucky is absolutely infuriated.

"You… you… you conniving, manipulative, little BITCH!" He pushes himself to his feet, towering over her as he breathes heavily.

She remains calmly seated on his desk, completely unperturbed by his reaction.

"Now, Professor Barnes…,” she chastises, “...is that any way to speak to me?" Her tone drips with condescension. Tilting her head slightly, a devilish smirk curls her lip.

"After all… I thought I was your teacher's pet."

__________

A/N: Mwahaha! Yes, this was a dark!reader fic all along. Don’t get me wrong, Bucky was also dark in this story, but Reader wasn’t as innocent as she seemed to be. Anyways, I’d love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

Warnings: NON-CON (filming sex), dark!reader, revenge porn/extortion, false rape accusations

Tags: @mcudarklibrary​

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 8: Old Friends, Not So New Tricks

Summary: When a familiar face turns up asking for Katie’s expertise, she finds herself confronted by another familiar face, this one being one she would rather never have had to see again.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Blood and SPOILERS if you haven’t seen Agents Of SHIELD….

A/N: Once again huge thanks to @angrybirdcr​ for her edit here, and the new banner for the next couple of sections of the story as we head forward through the next few parts of SSB...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 7

O/S: Phobias

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

November 2013

There’s a fine line  between success and failure. And that last mission had well and truly teetered its way along the edge. The team had been split up after a catastrophic coms failure leaving Katie and Evans badly compromised.  They had just about got the situation under control after some quick thinking from Katie and very sharp shooting from Evans, when Steve had broken every protocol in place and run head first into a gun fire to get them out, putting himself in danger.

And Katie was livid at him.

“We had it under control!” she said, her voice raised as she stormed through the corridor away from the hangar, people turning to look. They’d been arguing about it all the way home.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t look like it from where I was standing!”

“Damned it Steve!” She spun to face him. “You weren’t standing anywhere, you were running, head first into the crossfire without even thinking about what was going on!”

“The last thing I heard was that you were surrounded-”

“This is EXACTLY what I don’t want you to do!” Katie groaned as she ran her hands over her face “Run in there without a second thought for your own damned safety or anyone else’s.”

“What do you mean anyone else?” Steve’s nostrils flared.

“You left Rumlow and Rollins completely uncovered,” Katie shook her head, “to come and save me. I’m not a fucking princess that needs rescuing Steve!”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” Steve’s voice was loud, displaying the anger he was feeling inside at her attitude. 

“I’ll talk to you how I want!” She snapped back. “You know everyone gossips enough about us as it is and we’re almost seven months down the fucking line…”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“…and yet you STILL give them fuel!” She threw her hands out to the side, bringing them back down to her combat outfit clad sides with a slap. “Oh look at Nova, needs her Super Soldier Boyfriend to bail her out!”

“For the last time…” Steve hissed between his teeth, but Katie completely ignored him.

“If you can’t remain objective when we work together then maybe we shouldn’t be on the same team.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t if that’s how you feel!” He practically snarled, as he took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders back as his hands dropped to his belt buckle, eyes blazing. 

“Glad we understand one another.” Katie spat back, before turning on her heel and heading towards the armoury to change, ignoring his shouts.

****

After debrief, for the first time in ages Steve left work alone. He was in a foul mood, and practically wrenched his apartment door off its hinges. In part he was pissed at Katie’s attitude, but in others his anger was directed at himself because deep down he knew she was right. He’d utterly lost it when he’d heard she was in trouble and hadn’t been able to do anything else but rush in there to help get them out. It was ridiculous, she was a trained agent with a shot on her like you wouldn’t believe, and the amount of times they’d been in bad situations before…but something today, something about the way she’d sounded on the radio had gotten to him and he’d abandoned all thoughts of professionalism and gone after his girl.

Sighing he threw his keys down on the kitchen side and grabbed a beer from the fridge before making his way into the living room, toeing off his boots as he want. He dropped onto the sofa and let out a loud moan of frustration, his head lolling back against the cushions. He hated that they’d rowed, this was the first big argument they’d actually had. Sure they quibbled about small things, the fact he made her sleep on the right hand side of the bed at his because it was furthest away from the door (just in case anyone got in), the way he was a bit of a neat freak and when she did stay for more than a night his apartment looked like a whirlwind had been through it (Ok, he didn’t actually mind that so much in truth), the way she tried on every fucking outfit she owned before they went out (maybe not every outfit, but close enough…), the way he often went for a run first thing in the morning and she’d get pissed he wasn’t there when she woke up because…well, because….but all that was stuff he adored. The normal part of being with someone you were comfortable sharing your life with.

As he took a pull from his bottle his eyes rolled to the right and fell on the large photo frame on his wall. It was one she had made him for his birthday.

“Open the big one first…” She instructed, nodding to the gifts that were piled on his sofa.

He did as he was told without saying a word, picking it up and resting it on his lap. It felt like a photo frame. As he peeled back the wrapping paper he realised that’s exactly what it was. It was large with glossy pine edges to match the furniture in his apartment and filled with photos of him all from his life before the ice and his eyes grew large as he took in the faces that looked back up at him. There was a photo of him and Bucky as kids, another as teenagers, then one of them in the army- the one of them laughing that Katie had said she loved. His eyes began to mist over as he saw a few shots of his parents at their wedding in Ireland, on the steps of their tenement building at Brooklyn, one of him and his mom when he was a small boy, then he spotted one of him and Howard along with various shots of him with the Howling Commandos and finally one of him, Colonel Chester Phillips and Peggy. And at the bottom of the frame, on a silver plaque was engraved a quote from the Wizard of Oz- ”A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.”

“I thought it was a shame to just keep them in a box.” Katie said gently as she sat next to him. “I wanted you to see them every day and remember you meant as much to them as they did or do to you.”

His fingers trailed over the various faces in the frame as the memories flooded his brain and he felt a lump in his throat at the wave of nostalgia crossing over him, and also at the utter thoughtfulness that had gone into her gift.

 “I picked what I thought were the nicest ones.” She continued and he was aware her tone was growing nervous. “But we can swap them if…”

“Katie,” his voice was croaky as he cut her off and looked up at her. He was right, she was biting her lip, worried that she had upset him but nothing could be further from the truth. He moved to take her face in his hands and he kissed her, hard. He pulled away and looked at her speaking with utter honesty and sincerity “This is amazing, Darlin’. Thank you so much.”

Letting out a sigh, Steve’s eyes dropped from the wall to a smaller frame on the sideboard, this one contained a photo of him and Katie a ‘selfie’ of the two of them at the Top of the Rock, taken when they had gone back to New York to visit Tony one weekend in October. He loved it, the pair of them grinning like idiots, Katie wearing a baby blue sparkly beany and matching scarf, her smile genuine and him looking like a loves-struck idiot, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he glanced at the camera. She had the same photo in her living room too.

No, he couldn’t go to bed without sorting this out. Abandoning his half-drunk bottle of Sam Adams, he shoved his shoes back on, grabbed his keys and headed out.

****

Katie didn’t even stay for debrief, more to piss Steve off than anything. It was petty, yes but she was absolutely raging at him. Their relationship had been the talk of the Triskelion for months, and for that reason, they had behaved nothing but professionally on missions, wanting to prove to not only everyone they worked with, but to themselves, that they could remain objective in their work and that them being together wouldn’t compromise the way they behaved in the field. 

And now he had fucked that.

She ignored his call which came just as she got home and throwing her phone onto the sofa she grabbed a glass of wine and ran herself a bath, turning her music up loud. She lay back under the bubbles, gently humming along to the music. Music was her thing to calm down to. She’d always played piano, right from the age of four when her mom had taught her, and she wasn’t bad at it either.

The mellow sounds of John Legend’s ‘Ordinary People’ faded into the opening notes of ‘Only One In Color’ by Trapt, and Katie paused, smiling. This song took her years back, to nights in London with colleagues in bars, and then a concert in Orlando in 2009…and Steve, it took her back to Steve and one rainy afternoon in August.

Katie shimmied around, folding laundry and dropping it into the basket as she sang, loudly. It had been ages since she’d done this, just danced around her apartment like an idiot. She turned round to grab the final load out of the machine and screamed as Steve was stood in the doorway, arms folded, leaning against the frame, that annoyingly cute smirk on his face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“Jesus, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough” He grinned, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her. He nuzzled into her neck and the two of them stood there, still, listening to the song that was playing.

“What is it?” Steve asked, pressing a kiss to the spot just below her ear..

“It’s called Only One In Color, by a band called Trapt.” Katie replied, turning her head to look at him. “It kinda reminds me of you actually.”

Steve smiled as they listened for another second before he moved back, his hand taking hers as he raised it above their heads and spun her round, playfully as she laughed, before he pulled him to her.

“Dance with me.”

“What, here? In my apartment?”

“Our own private ballroom.”

“You’ve never danced before.” Katie looked up at him. “You told me.”

“I know, Peggy was right.” He took a deep breath and looked at her. “I was waiting for the right partner. So, what do you say? Teach me?”

“You know I don’t really know a lot of steps.” Katie felt a smile spread across her face as Steve placed his free hand on the curve of her waist and she began to lead them around on the spot, her right hand held in his left, her left curling up and over his right shoulder. She watched Steve, who was concentrating so hard that his brows pinched together slightly, a look that was incredibly endearing.

“Stop over thinking it.” She said gently, looking up at him. “Listen to the music and just let go.”

So he did. He let go, listening to the melody and the words, smiling a little as the lyrics hit home, really making him think about the woman in his arms. She had brought colour to his life, given him a reason to keep going in this world he had found so strange and, well, daunting. As he found his rhythm, he felt the smile pull even broader on his lips. He raised his head from where his eyes had been focussing on his feet and his girl beamed up at him, squeezing the hand that she held.

“See, it’s not that hard is it?” She giggled. Steve returned the grin and shook his head.

“Surprisingly not.” He admitted. They continued to revolve around the space in the doorway between her kitchen and laundry room and Katie lay her head on his chest, Steve’s face automatically turning down slightly so his cheek was resting against her hair. After a minute or so Katie felt him move and instinctively she looked up and could do nothing but smile as they stopped dancing and their mouths drifted closer together. Her hand slipped up, fingers stretching themselves into the short hair at the nape of his neck as his lips met hers, his hand creeping across her back, large palm pressed firmly against her spine. 

They never made it to the bedroom, they made it as far as the couch before they were both naked and going at it like a couple of horny fucking teenagers. And since then it had been ‘their’ song.

Katie sighed and drained her wine glass before she set about washing her hair and climbed out of the bath. She dressed in a pair of shorts and a hoodie before pulling her damp hair back into a French braid and had just settled on the sofa to watch TV when the buzzer to her apartment went. Picking up her phone to look at the security camera she took a deep breath and realised it was Steve.

“Sweetheart let me in. My key card is at home.”

She gave no response.

“I’m not going till you do, you know I could do this all day. Or all night.”

Still no response.

“I mean it’s a pretty interesting buzzer.”

With a groan, knowing full well the stubborn little shit in him would do just that, she pressed the button to let him in. Half a minute or so later the alert went again to signal he had requested access to her floor. Once more she tapped to accept and turned her attention back to the TV. She didn’t look up as the elevator door in the panel in her wall slid open, keeping her eyes focussed on the television as he strode into the room, heading straight for her once he’d hung his jacket up on the hooks to the right of the elevator.

“You were gonna watch this without me?” Hesaid gently, nodding to the episode of ‘Brooklyn Nine-Nine’ that was playing as he dropped down next to her.

“Yes.” She replied simply, her arms folded.

Steve fought the smile spreading across his face at her childishness. He knew if she was mad the worst thing he could do was laugh at her and make her think he wasn’t taking her seriously. So, he took a deep breath and turned so he was facing her on the couch, arm resting along the back.”

“I know you’re pissed at me.” He sighed. “But come on Doll, I hate fighting with you.”

“Then stop being a dick.” She snarked back. Steve took another deep breath and looked at her as she continued. “You know what it’s like at work, everyone has constantly analysed everything I do because, hello, Howard Stark’s daughter, and today…”

She trailed off and Steve looked down at his hands and shook his head. “I know. I didn’t mean to make it look like you couldn’t handle yourself.”

They fell into silence and Katie exhaled sharply, deciding to meet him half way. She knew he hadn’t meant to make her feel like he had but, there was also a part of her that had been scared. Not just for her and Evans, but seeing Steve rush in, headfirst with no regard for his own safety just to get to her had really frightened her. Despite his enhanced nature, he wasn’t invincible.

“You need to trust me when I’m out there.” She spoke, her voice was softe.

“I do trust you, you know that.” He looked at her. “But I’m not gonna apologize for looking out for you, Sweetheart. It’s my job. Both as your Captain and your man.”

“I get that, I do.” Katie sighed. “But you put yourself in danger today, running straight into the middle of a fire fight…can you imagine what I’d have done if you’d have been…”

She trailed off, swallowing and took a deep breath before she continued and her words hit Steve. He hadn’t considered she had felt as worried about him as he had her.  

“We have to remain objective, and if that means you can’t just abandon the team for me.”

“I know, you’re right, I’m sorry.” He said finally.

She looked at him and took a deep breath, the anger dissipating at his apology and moved to give him a hug, her arms round his shoulders as he wrapped his around her back and pulled her clumsily into his lap.

 “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.” She sighed as she lay her head against his.

“Forgiven?” He asked and she looked down at him, he was giving her his puppy dog eyes. She rolled her own, she couldn’t stay mad at him, especially when there was a small part of her that couldn’t help but adore the fact he cared so deeply for her that he’d rush in, head first with no regard for anything else.

“Captain Dumbass.” She grumbled, before giving him a soft kiss.

“Guess so.” He chuckled. And when she didn’t protest he gently tapped her thigh, and knowing what he wanted she shifted off his lap so he could lay down flat on the sofa, allowing her to drape herself over him like  blanket, head on his chest as his arms wrapped around her back, legs tangling together as they settled in to watch their programme.

*****

Katie hadn’t been in the office for five minutes the next morning when she got a message to say Fury wanted to see her. In the years she had known the director, she still found it hard to get a read on him and this time was no exception. She stepped into his office and he nodded to her, and without a word got straight to business, leading her over to the screen on the wall by the sofas.

“I was wondering what you made of this.” He said nodding to the large screen on the wall. The photo displayed was of a tree trunk, cut in half and running down the middle was a long, tube like shape, with some markings on it. The photo zoomed in and Katie frowned.

“These look like the markings on Thor’s hammer.” She looked at the Director.

“Funny you should say that.” Fury nodded. “Because the Spectrographic signatures match the readings from Thor’s hammer too.”

“So whatever was in that tree was Asgardian?”

Fury nodded. “It looks that way, Nova, yes.”

“Where was it found?”

“That’s a trunk from a Norwegian spruce in Trillmarka National Park, Norway.”

“Figures.” Katie bit her lip.

“How do you mean?” Fury looked at her.

“The legends of Thor, they all have origins in Norway. When I asked him about it, Thor explained that Asgardians visited Earth thousands of years ago.” She explained. “They roamed Norway, mingling with the old Norse people, but back then, because humans couldn’t understand the concept of people from another planet, these, well, these aliens were revered as Gods.”

Fury gave a noise of understanding.  

“So who took it?” She asked. “Has Thor been back since the whole incident in Greenwich or…”

“I wish he had, then I wouldn’t really give a shit.” Fury sighed. “This thing has gone AWOL. According to my team on the ground, it was taken by a woman and a man, very much of Earth”

“Great.”  Katie rolled her eyes, before she continued, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Because every time something alien lands in human hands that ends well.”  

Fury gave a snort and pressed a button on a remote and she turned her attention to the TV on the wall of the office. It was screening a news broadcast, footage of a riot. The runner on the bottom of the screen identified the location as Oslo.

“The rioting has left twenty injured and three in a critical condition. Reports indicate that the group of about a dozen was led by this man and woman.”

A picture of the culprits filled the screen. The man was tall, dark haired, dark eyed and had a short beard. The woman, in contrast was slight, blonde and with icy blue eyes.

“And although their motive was unclear, the message was spelled out on the streets of Oslo, for all to see”

“It looks like the item has given them powers beyond those of normal humans.” Fury spoke as the newscast panned over to a fire on the street, this time an aerial view. The fire spelt out the words “We are Gods”.

“So what do you need me to do?” Katie asked, looking at him.

“I’m gonna need you to work with one of my field teams.” Fury continued, looking at her. “My best field team, actually. I want you to help them track these guys down. You have a decent knowledge on Asgardian and Mythological history and the team could do with someone with a little background on the subject.”

“Sir, if these people are as powerful as this report is saying, shouldn’t we consider at least trying to contact Thor, possibly the rest of the Avengers?” Katie looked at him.

 “No.” Fury’s response was instantaneous. “I don’t want the Avengers involving. It would attract too much attention.”

“With all due respect, they just set a street on fire. I dare say it’s already attracting a fair amount of attention so whats-“ She trailed off as Fury looked at her, an expression on his face that Katie knew extremely well having seen it several times before. The expression he wore when he was about to drop a bombshell. “Oh, what are you hiding Nick?” She frowned.

“I want you to understand that you’ve been kept in the dark about this so far for a reason. And I know you’re going to get emotional, but if you could refrain from throwing that coffee you’re holding, Nova, I’d appreciate it.”

“Dark about what?” She pressed, her tone irritated. She didn’t have time for this bullshit.

Agent Fury pressed a button on his phone on his desk. “Alright, you’re up.” And with that the TV snapped onto a different channel and she turned to see a familiar man sat in a chair on the screen.

Katie didn’t throw the coffee, instead it slipped from her hands as her mouth dropped open and the entire room swam in front of her eyes.

“Sorry, boss. The God rabbited” 

“Just stay awake. EYES ON ME!” 

“No. I’m clocked out here.” 

“Not an option!” 

The room came back into focus again and she looked from the screen to Fury, then back. “This…this is impossible.” She stammered.

“I’d have said the same thing myself not long ago.” Phil Coulson gave a shy little smile.

Katie found herself floundering for words before the anger at the lies and deceit bubbled up.

“No, you…you died! I was there, I saw it!”

“Excellent medics.” Fury concluded.

“They took you away, in a body bag!” Katie’s voice rose to a yell as she ran her hands over her face, unable to believe what she was seeing. She’d cried, mourned the loss of one of her friends, a man who had been her mentor. She looked at Coulson on the screen, and then away again, her eyes misting up slightly.

“No one knew I’d pulled through until after New York.“ Coulson spoke softly “I spent months recovering in Tahiti. It’s a magical place.”

“I want your word that you will not reveal Agent Coulson is alive to anyone.” Fury spoke and Katie turned to look at him, her face curling up in an angry sneer. “I debated long and hard about pulling you into this but we need you.”

Katie eyed the director, chin jutting upwards as she glared at him. “Don’t you ever get tired of the lies?”

“I have no option.” Fury’s face was stern. “I can’t risk the Avengers falling apart.”

“I’m not lying to them for you.” She shook her head “No way. A team is built on trust. Without that you have nohing.”

Fury looked at her for a moment, before he sighed. “That wasn’t a request, Agent Stark. If you tell anyone I’ll remove you from service.”

“So now you’re blackmailing me?”

“I’m merely pointing out your options.” Fury replied simply.

“You are unbelievable.” She shook her head. “Fuck you. Fuck this.”

She turned to walk out of the door before Coulson’s voice rang across the room.

“Katie, please. We wouldn’t be asking this of you if it wasn’t urgent, but we really do need your help

The use of her first name, not her code name, made Katie stop in her tracks. Taking a deep breath she spun back, fire in her eyes as she glared at Coulson’s image on the screen. “Why should I?”

“Because, ” Coulson continued, “you’re the only one I trust enough with this.”

Katie ran her hands over her face, torn between wanting to leave and her desire, sorry, duty to help. In the end her duty won out and she felt her shoulders slump as she looked back towards the two men, giving them both a curt nod.

“Fine, but that does not mean that I’m happy about this. Any of it.”

“You’ll rendezvous with the Bus in Oslow.” Fury instructed, ignoring her emotion completely. “There’s a Jet being prepped to take the new shift of mobile STRIKE team members out as we speak. You can go with them.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged. With a final roll of her eyes she made to leave the room before Fury called after her.

“Agent Stark.”

“What?” she demanded as she spun round, fixing her eyes on his.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, shaking his head. “But I had to do it.”

She swallowed, before she turned and left, not trusting herself to respond.  

*****

Steve was looking for Katie, he knew she’d been to see Fury and was eager to find out what it was about. After asking a few agents if they’d seen her he finally tracked her to one of the kitchens where she was sat, hugging a cup of coffee like her life depended on it, staring down at the table. He frowned, she looked absolutely beat.

“Sweetheart?” He asked tentatively as she looked up at him. His frown deepened when he saw her face. She looked distraught. “Honey, what is it?”

One look in his eyes and Katie knew she couldn’t lie to him, she didn’t want to lie to him. Fuck Fury, fuck all of this.

“Coulson…he…” She stammered, looking up at Steve, her eyes wet.

“What about him?” Steve frowned.

She took a deep breath, tears now rolling down her face. “He’s alive, Steve, he’s fucking alive.”

And then the dam broke and she began to sob. Steve instantly went into autopilot, pulling out a spare chair and moving it close to her so he could wrap his arms around her as she cried into his tevlar clad chest, his own mind whirling at the news.

Eventually she calmed down to tell him everything. And Steve listened, not saying a word, simply holding her hand, his thumb skating over her knuckles as she spoke. He did, however, make an angry noise that was half way between a snort and a growl when she told him Fury had threatened to sack her if she told anyone.

“I honestly thought I’d seen it all, that nothing life threw up would ever surprise me again.” She sighed looking at Steve as she finished explaining.

“Ten bucks says you’re wrong.” He smiled softly and she spluttered a watery laugh through her tears, remembering what she’d said to him the first time they had met. “There’s my girl.” Steve reached over to gently brush her cheek with his hand. “I like it better when you smile.”

“Sorry, but I’m so angry. Fury is lying, again! Has he learnt nothing from everything that’s happened over the past few years?”

Steve didn’t say anything, merely studied her face for a moment and then both of them turned their attention to the door when one of the Junior Agents appeared.

“Agent Stark, Director Fury asked me to tell you we’re wheels up in an hour.”

“Thanks.” She nodded, sniffing before she looked at Steve. “I don’t even have time to pack.”

“You got some stuff in your locker, right?”

She nodded. She always had a few days’ worth of clothes in her locker and toiletries to hand, just in case. She ran her hands over her face and stood up. “You know, I don’t even know who I’m meeting!” She shook her head. “Other than Fitz and Simmons, I’ve no idea who Coulson has on The Bus.”

“Whoever it is I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Steve assured her. “And I know it’s shitty but they asked for you for a reason.”

“Suppose I best make the most of it, seeing as it will be my last mission, you know, on account of me telling you.”

“It won’t come to that.” Steve shook his head “I’m not gonna tell anyone I know.”

“Fury always finds out.” Katie sighed. “Tony is right about him. His spies have spies.”

Thirty minutes later she was walking to the hangar, suited in her SHIELD cat suit, Steve carrying her holdall for her as they walked. The Captain didn’t like this, he hated that she was effectively being manipulated and he would have loved nothing more than to give Fury a piece of his mind but he couldn’t, because he wasn’t supposed to know. They reached the bottom of the jet and Katie turned to him as he handed her bag to one of the agents who nodded to them both.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can.” She promised as Steve looked down at her and nodded

“Make sure you do.” He raised an eyebrow. “Not sure how I’m gonna cope without my best girl.”

“Your best girl?” She teased. “How many others do you have?”

“One or two.” He shrugged. “But they’re in different states, so, they don’t count, right?”

She gave a laugh as she shook her head. “Jerk.”

Steve chuckled and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You know you’re the only one for me, Doll.” He dropped a soft kiss to her lips. “Just go do what you gotta do. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He kissed her again, this time a little longer, although both still well aware that they were in the middle of a very busy hangar, surrounded by a lot of people. Sighing, Katie pulled back and allowed herself to melt into his arms for a quick hug before she stepped back.

“I love you.” She said gently.

“You too. Be careful.” He looked at her, his features verging on stern with his warning.

“I’m always careful.” She grinned, walking backwards up the ramp, wanting to look at him for as long as possible.

“Well that’s just an out and out lie.” He raised an eyebrow, hands dropping to the buckle of his belt.

She grinned, blew him a kiss and then disappeared into the main part of the jet. Steve watched for a second as the ramp shut before he turned and left the hangar.

*****

The flight over to Oslow wasn’t too long. Katie used the time to do as much reading up on the item they were tracking as possible, going through all the files that Coulson had sent her. Eventually they docked with The Bus and her and the other agents made their way to the Air Lock. The doors shut and the capsule took them down a level before the frosted glass doors opened and there, stood in front of her, was Phil Coulson. The other agents pushed past, clearly fine at the sight of a dead-not-dead man in front of them.

There was a moment’s hesitation, where Coulson and Katie simply looked at each other, and then Katie’s anger boiled over and she stepped forwards, slapping him, hard across the face. The agents who were milling around all paused as Coulson’s head snapped to the side.

“Guess I deserved that…” He said, turning his head back to look at her as everyone hastily carried on with their jobs.

As Katie stared at her old mentor, her anger melted away and with a little sigh she threw her arms around him.  Coulson squeezed her back, before Katie moved a little to look at him, before she spoke for the first time.

“Good to see you again. Not dead, I mean.”

Phil gave a chuckle. “You too Nova. Come on, the rest of the team are waiting in the lab.”

He led her down the hall, Katie following, her eyes taking in her surroundings before Coulson stopped at the end of a corridor, near a door to a room that she could see had a glass wall.

“Now, before you go in, there’s something else you should know.” Coulson turned to face her and she looked at him, letting out an angry groan.

“What now?”

“I want you to know, Fury didn’t want me to tell you as he didn’t think you would come, it wasn’t my decision to keep it from you.”

“Keep what from me?” Her temper was flaring again. “I swear to God AC I am this close…”she held her fingers an inch apart, “to losing my shit!”

Coulson hesitated for a moment and then opened the door to the lab. As they walked in six people all looked up from what they’d been watching and turned to face them. One of them was a dark haired girl she didn’t know and next to her were Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz who Katie knew from the labs when they had worked with Lawson. Then she spotted Melinda May, an agent only rivalled in fighting skills by Natasha.

And then a pair of familiar dark eyes met hers as another familiar face looked up from a tablet.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Katie muttered and she turned to Coulson who shrugged apologetically.

“Good to see you too.” Ward grinned as Katie folded her arms and glared at him.

There was a moment’s pause as the two simply stared at one another, Katie’s teeth grinding together in irritation, before the girl with the dark hair spoke. “Okay, so this is awkward…”

“And this is Skye.” Coulson spoke, breaking up the tension. “She’s a…”

“Hacker.” May supplied, at the same time Skye replied, “consultant”

Katie was really struggling to keep her temper under control now, so missed the irritated glare Skye shot at May. First Coulson, now this. Fury was going to absolutely get the full Stark-slash-Supernova explosion when she got back.

“So, shall we get down to business?” Coulson asked, spotting the look on Katie’s face, realising she needed to focus on something else. “What have you got?”

“We’ve managed to identify our thieves.” May spoke as Sky pressed something on the tablet she was holding. A close up of the woman’s face appeared on the holo-projector in the middle of the room.  “Her name is Petra Larson”

“And this is Jakob Nystrom, her boyfriend. Both thirty.  Leaders of a Norse Paganist hate group”

 “And their numbers are growing thanks to what happened in London and the internet” Sky scoffed. “Yay internet,”

“Norse Paganist?” Simmons questioned

“Obsessed with anything derived from Norse mythology, stories of Asgard, yada yada.” Skye explained. 

“And now a weapon.” Ward gestured to a long object on the table which Katie hadn’t noticed until that point.

“Is that a 3-d print?” She asked, instantly captivated by the item, looking at Fitz who nodded. “May I?”

“Of course…” He said. Katie picked it up and turned it over in her hands, testing the weight as she scanned it up and down. The detailing was exquisite.

“The scan accounted for only one side.” Fitz explained. “There was too much damage to the tree for a complete reproduction”.

“But, see here, it’s clearly broken on both ends.” Katie held it up. “So there are more pieces.”

“Yeah, two at least” Fitz responded, nodding.

“Which means Sid and Nancy may be looking for a complete set.” Ward spoke as Coulson turned to Katie.

“The markings. Just as you said on the call they’re Asgardian symbolism.”

She looked at the item in her hand and nodded. “Similar to Thor’s hammer.”

“Yeah, hard to translate with our limited knowledge.” Couslon shrugged.

“You should give your buddy the God of Thunder a shout.” Sky spoke “He gets his powers from his hammer, right? What if this is his nail to the hammer?”

“He’s off grid.” Coulson looked at her. “And if he has a cell-phone, we don’t have the number.

“I told to get him a pager.” Katie muttered as she peered at the rod and then something stirred in her mind, and she began racking her brains. There was something similar about this, something that she’d seen or read before, if she could only remember what.

“So,” May looked at Katie, “SHIELD’s investigations are on the trail of Nystrom and his followers.”

“We’re charged with identifying the object and finding any other pieces before they do.” Coulson finished.

Katie nodded, still thinking. “If this acts in the same way as Thor’s hammer then that’s a sensible task.”

And then she trailed off as it suddenly hit her exactly what it was she’d been trying to remember.

“No, it can’t be.” She muttered as Coulson looked at her questioningly. She nodded to the item in her hand and then looked back at him. “I could be wrong but this…this could be a piece of the Beserker Staff.”

“The what?”  Ward frowned.

“It’s from an old legend that a great warrior, from another world came to Earth” Katie spoke, recalling the research she’d done once upon a time. “He had in his possession a magical staff but he loved Earth so much he never left, and he broke the staff into pieces and hid them.”

“Any idea on where?” Coulson asked.  Katie shook her head.

 “Well our Pagan friends certainly seem to have some advantage on that front.” Ward sighed. “They found this thing in a hundred and fifty square kilometres of Norwegian forest.”

“Guys, what if it called to them with magic?” Sky asked, her eyes going large and excited.

“Called to them?” May shot her a ‘be real’ look in response.

“We know it’s Asgardian, so the rules are a little bendy here.” Skye pressed.

“Just because we don’t understand something yet doesn’t mean we should regress back to the dark ages, talking of magic and fairy tales” Simmons shook her head and Fitz scoffed his agreement.

“Actually, that’s exactly what we need to do.” Katie looked around as the idea came to her.

“Excuse me?” Simmons asked.

Ignoring him, Katie turned to Agent Coulson. “Remember when we first found the hammer in New Mexico, and I told Fury to consult with an expert on Norse Mythology to fill the gaps.”

“Elliot Randolph,” Phil nodded.

“We should speak to him, he’ll know more about it than me.”

“Alright.” Coulson nodded, looking at May. “He’s a professor at the University of Seville. Set the course, let’s pay him a visit.”

“Shouldn’t take us too long.” May shrugged “But it is getting kinda late. By the time we get there it will be past eight in the evening local time. Can I suggest we head out first thing tomorrow morning?”

Coulson nodded. “Alright. Sounds like a plan. Okay team, lets wrap it up here and get something to eat. Think we’ve earned it.” He then turned to Katie, gesturing with his head for her to follow him out of the room.

He led her down a few more corridors and to a flight of steps which led up to the upper deck of the large airship.

“The Accommodation is probably a bit smaller than you’re used to, but…”

 “If it’s that bad imma find a hotel.” She shrugged as she followed Coulson down the corridor.

“What and miss all the fun?” Phil looked over his shoulder. “I’ve had the gin bar stocked specially.”

“Yeah, for the record that isn’t going to take away from the fact that I’m utterly pissed at you and Fury”

“I know you well enough Nova to not even hope that would be the case” Coulson snorted as they turned right. Eventually they reached the living area and Coulson led her to one of the spare rooms.

It wasn’t as bad as Coulson made it out to be, a bed that was slightly bigger than a single but not a full double, with a small wardrobe and a small basin to the side.

“This isn’t so bad.” She turned to Phil who was watching her a little cautiously.

“Glad it meets your approval.” He nodded, leaning in the door way before he took a deep breath. “Look, I really am sorry about all of this. I wouldn’t have-“

“Let’s just find that thing and then I can go home.” Katie cut him off, not in the mood for anymore apologies or explanations. She had a job to do, and the sooner she did it, the sooner she could get back.

“That’s the plan.” Coulson nodded. “I’ll be in the bar in an hour or so, got a few things to sort out before but, well, it would be nice if we could catch up.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Katie replied. There was a pause before Coulson gave her another curt nod.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

With that he turned and left and Katie’s eyes fixed on the now empty doorway. With a purposeful stride, she moved forward and pressed her palm to the pad at the side, the door sliding shut with a slight click.

Katie turned around, looking at her bag which had been placed at the foot of her bed and with a loud, angry groan of frustration she flopped backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

***** Chapter 9

**Original Posting**

[yolkyeomie]

Crescendo | Kang Yeosang

summary — The beating of a heart is like a crescendo, screaming louder and louder in one's chest until it's reached maximum capacity, and you’re about ready to burst.

word count — 8.6k words

pairing — yeosang x female!reader

genre —violinist + college au, band au there if you look around a little bit, fluff with like a hint of angst in the later parts

disclaimer — SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT,,, this is more of prologue than anything tbh. also I have almost zero knowledge on college and violins so if this is horrible I’m so sorry. also typos. lots of typos.

part I | part II | part III

I.

There was just something about summer that you liked so much. You just couldn't exactly put your finger on what.

Maybe you liked the sunny days that it would bring? The giant ball of light in the sky beaming down at full power onto every human in sight. It would illuminate the world with a golden glow, bringing out the more natural and earthy colors hidden from the other seasons. The heat would call for unplanned trips to the cool waters and hot sand of the beaches or a quickly made dash to the nearest frozen ice cream shop. Perhaps it was because there was no more school, no more time needed to spend on slaving away for hours at a desk just to not retain any knowledge given.

Or maybe you liked it because it was the time you’d see children the happiest. Every time you biked along the sidewalk to and from your home you’d come across a playground almost always filled to the brim with the joyous sounds of laughter. Children scattered around the playgrounds like little ants to a picnic, grabbing whatever they found the most intriguing for the day. Some would be swinging, some would be sliding, some would even be chasing each other around without any of the equipment catching their attention at all.

However, there was a possibility that you enjoyed the summertime because of the theater your town held. It wasn't very big compared to the ones that could be found in the big cities of your country, but it was nice nonetheless.

There were white walls lined with a fake golden trim along the floors, bright lights nearly blinding one as they walked inside of the theater for the first time. There was a slightly smaller stage than normal, not too tiny but definitely smaller than you’d seen in the more famous theaters. The seats weren't in their traditional curved angles either. They were in neat straight rows leading all the way to the back of the theater where the volunteer tech crew would operate behind the scenes.

There were white walls lined with a fake golden trim along the floors, bright lights nearly blinding one as they walked inside of the theater for the first time. There was a slightly smaller stage than normal, not too tiny but definitely smaller than you’d seen in the more famous theaters. The seats weren't in their traditional curved angles either. They were in neat straight rows leading all the way to the back of the theater where the volunteer tech crew would operate behind the scenes.

Every year your high school would hold recitals for their students in that theater. They would use these performances as a way to showcase their students' growing talents in the art of music or to spotlight their shyer students who never had gotten a chance to show everyone what they were made of. You weren’t in any sort of music group nor did you know how to play any instruments, so you never participated. But you did show up to every recital you could.

When you were in tour first year the only reason you had attended the performance was because your English teacher had promised to raise their overall grade for the year if they did. You were a decent student, overall you had average grades but wasn't the most outstanding person in your class. A few extra points to curve your grades were always appreciated so you had planned on attending the performance.

You had tried to grab a couple of friends to go with you, but all of them coward out when they got the chance. Some would say they were too busy, some would outright tell you they didn't want to sit through a performance they had no interest in. So you ended up simply going with your family, more begrudged than you originally were for the recital.

You had sat through choir members and members of the school's small orchestra and band repeating nearly the same song over and over again. Each song had a different tune, maybe a different style depending on how much creative liberty the singer or player gave themselves. One song was sung a bit louder than the others, another song was played by a small thrown together orchestra than simply a soloist, but they were all the same.

It was boring, and you were growing tired of listening to the same thing constantly. The only thing willing you to stay in your seat the entire time with the arm crushing strength of your mother and your need to get extra points on your grades for the year.

Near the end of the recital was when you had gotten hooked. Your family had finally decided they were going to pack it up for the night, her father had to work early in the morning and you were going to be thrown over towards your grandparents for summer. Just before you could have risen out of your chair to leave behind your parents, you heard it. A different melody than the ones that have been rocking your brain that night.

There was a boy walking on the stage, probably no taller than you was at the time. He was tiny for a first year boy, probably one of the shortest in his class as well. His hair was like a fluffy brown bunny's tail, bouncing and tousling itself around with every step he took. There was a string instrument in his hands, from what you could see was a red-tinged wood violin. You couldn't quite see the expression on his face either though, due to the distance you were from the theater stage.

You hadn't even realized you were holding your breath until he plucked one of the strings, letting the note resonate through the theater and bounce off the walls and into their ears. He had played a note, on a different key from the other performers. He was playing a song that his fellow violinists hadn't picked. He was different.

The sound was like a siren's song that grabbed the audience's attention and placed it to the stage. His melody started out soft and somber, almost as if the violin itself was conveying its unspoken emotions. The violinist was trying to use those emotions his instrument lent him to serenade the tears in the audience's eyes to fall and hit the ground simultaneously, creating their own beat to his song.

After a moment of enticing the audience to his performance, he sped up his pace. His quiet song suddenly grew in size until it overpowered every other sound in the room. He strummed each string with a quickness you didn't even believe was possible, his bow striking each note like it was powerful enough to create an earthquake. In a sense, it was like he and the violin had become one being, his string instrument becoming an extension of his arm as he played.

The audience whispered in wonder and amazement of the boy's talents, unable to take their eyes away from his figure. It was an enchanting sound so you couldn't blame them. The violinist had brought you into a world completely different from reality, where every object and plant in sight was made out of his musical chords.

How does a boy, barely over the age of fifteen, have this much power in his hands? You would be cursing yourself if you didn't grant him the title of prodigy right then and there.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn't listen to the rest of his alluring song. Your family had dragged you out of the theater to finally retreat to their humble abode for the night. After that night you had declared to yourself that you’d find the violinist who played that song, whether you had to search all summer for him or dig around your school for him. You’d attend every recital and every performance your school's small orchestra had just to get him to play for you again.

However, you lucked out each time you tried. Your school's orchestra didn't allow students outside of their instrumentalists into the classrooms. The violinist boy was too short for you to find in a crowd at their performances either. You even tried to find someone who might be close to him, but no one seemed to step up to the plate. This went on for the rest of your high school years. The only time you could see him where those days after the school year had ended, listening to him play those high energy tunes and somber melodies for his recital before he disappeared from existence once more.

That was, until now.

Plus you made a little bit of money on the side as well, and who didn't like money? Sure most of it was going to your tuition for college but there were times where you liked to splurged on your own interests every once and awhile.

"You seem tired," a feminine voice commented, making you turn around to face her. It was a girl, around your age, walking towards you, her long sleeves rolled up against her arms to mirror the way her shorts looked. She sat down on the pavement next to you, handing you a water bottle ice cold to the touch. "I would be too if I rode around in this crazy heat. I'm surprised you haven't melted at the mere light of the sun yet."

"I almost did," you responded, taking the water from her hands gratefully. "Today was unreasonably hot... I felt like I was sitting right in the middle of hell. And the fact that my bike is made out of metal, too? It's a miracle I didn't get third degree burns or something."

The girl went quiet for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought before speaking again. "You know I can always do it for you? The delivering stuff. It's my family's business anyway, I should be helping them out, not relying on you to do all of the hard work for me."

"Are you serious?" you questioned, suppressing the unusually strong urge to laugh. "You can't even ride a bike or skate. Nor do you have a car either, it'll take you hours to get from one house to the next. And I like the money I earn from doing this for you, I can't get a job anywhere else so this is just perfect for me."

"But still!" She complained, a pouting donning her lips as you screwed open the bottle cap. "I feel bad seeing you bike along in this hot ass weather for my family! I gotta do something to give you... at least a little relief."

You laughed at her desperation, placing the water by your side to face her fully. "The relief you can give me is not playing your cello so loud in the morning. You play wonderfully, trust me, but it's so loud and I'm so tired." you clarified, reminiscing on every time she'd walk up to her house with the sound of a cello's notes wavering through the air.

The girl wasn't in their school's orchestra, she had picked up on the instrument as a hobby. She didn't have a desire to play it in a school setting or professionally no matter how much everyone would suggest otherwise. Yet she suddenly began to really start practicing more often when her next door neighbor had moved in two years ago. You remembered exactly how frustrated the girl was when she discovered that he played guitar at maximum volume in the middle of the night without any regard for anyone else.

To counteract his annoying behavior, she'd open up all the windows in her house and began to play her cello as loud as she physically could in the morning times. It became a war of the instrumentalists after that and neither of them seemed like they were going to stop any time soon.

"Oh you know I can't do that," She responded, glaring at the house to their left where the guitarist resided. "He'll take it as me surrendering to him. I don't even want to think about what he'll do in the middle of the night once I stop. Probably bass boost his guitar so that it's even louder than normal! Oh god, I won't ever get any sleep if he does that."

You found it funny really. The two had never even met each other face to face. "Right... and we don't want that happening do we?" The girl shook her head vigorously in response to your words, taking your sarcasm very seriously. "I still think you can at least tone it down a little bit... this is our last year, in a few months we'll be dragged off into a bigger city to attend colleges and universities for another four or more years. Are you really going to be playing your cello first thing in the morning in your dormitory?"

"Well..." the girl pauses, taking your words into consideration. "No... I won't really need to since I'm not bringing it with me."

"Exactly!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands together and giving the girl a mocking smile. "Now I think you should at least go over to that boy's house and settle this raging war before you move onto better things. Make amends with him, he might even become a new friend of yours for the future. If not, you're not gonna see him again. There's a very high possibility that he's not going to the same college as you, or that he might not be going to college at all!"

She rolled her eyes at your suggestion, forcing herself off of the ground reluctantly. "Fine. I'll go make amends with him or whatever. But I'll only do it if you give up on the violinist boy from the recitals."

You stiffened at the mention of your high school goal, your very unsuccessful goal of finding him and making him play a song for you. "It's like you said, this is our last year here as teenagers. You've been trying to find him longer than I've been waging this musical war on my neighbor. It's about time to lay to rest, you. Seriously, it's more painful to watch than those terribly edited movies from my parents' watch for the "nostalgia"."

"Ouch there was no need to stoop that low," you mumbled, making the girl laugh in turn. "But I guess you're right. I've failed at finding him for this long, I might as well just give up now."

The girl nodded before patting your shoulders in reassurance. "If you really want to hear someone play music so bad for you, you can always ask me. I know a cello sounds nothing like a tiny violin but I can always try?"

"Actually that doesn't sound like a bad idea," you mumbled after a moment of thinking.

"Perfect!" The girl hummed, nearly jumping with excitement to show off her talents and pleasing your several years long urge to have someone play for you. "Usually I only play for my family but I'm very willing to show off what I've been working on. There's this one song I've using to annoy the guitarist boy in the morning and—"

"Go," you reminded her, your smile growing wider at her friend geeking out about her work. "Go get your cello and actually play it for me."

She nodded at your words, skipping on her feet as if she was as light as a feather towards her house. You knew it would be a bit of a struggle in moving her instrument from her room to the outdoors but if the girl was willingly and happily doing it, she had no reason to stop her.

It was a little funny though, how much you were surrounded by people who were gifted and talented in the form of music. Your school's orchestra knew you because of how you’d always try and snatch a peek into their classroom and attended their performances. Your closest friend was a cellist, but only played for hobby and the boy next door was a guitarist. All these connections started happening because a boy you had been chasing after for four years was a violinist.

You'd think you’d pick up some sort of instrument to attract them to you, and trust and believe you tried. You attempted to start playing many instruments after that summer night in your first year. Guitar, flute, piano, trumpet, you even tried to learn the violin yourself. You just weren't musical gifted, you didn't have the patience nor the ears to learn any sort of instrument that passed your way. The best you could do was play a sad tune on the kazoo or laugh into a harmonica.

It's even funnier when other’s learn that your mother used to sing and play the piano while your father played the clarinet when they were in high school. Go ahead and laugh, you knew you were a musical disappointment. Music was practically flowing strong in your blood and you sucked at it. Don't even get started on dancing either, it was a frightening sight to see. Those who could live to tell the tale never told the tale to anyone.

A melody began to float through the air once your friend disappeared into her house, catching you off guard. It wasn't the sound of an electric guitar, shocking the hair and making your skin prickle with its overbearing and booming sound. It was soft and sweet, vibrating through the air as if it was playing with the wind that blew by every few minutes. You could immediately identify the instrument as a violin, it's slightly strained notes from the bow connecting with the strings were all too familiar to you.

You turned towards the guitarist's house where the song was the loudest. To your knowledge, the boy didn't play any other instrument than the guitar. Yet the violin's sweet yet sorrowful song was coming from his house. Without even thinking you rose off the ground, following the song's notes like it was your guide. You had heard the door of your friend's house open again, signaling that the girl had successfully brought her cello from her room to the front of her house. Unfortunately for her, you were walking a little faster than she could drag her cello case.

"Y/N?" The girl called, trying to catch your attention. "Y/N, where are you going?"

You stood in front of the guitarist boy's house, right before where the balcony was hanging. The door to the balcony was ajar, letting the cool afternoon air into the room and releasing the melody of the violin out. "Is that the guitarist boy's room?" you called out to her friend, not taking your eyes off of the balcony. Just as you spoke the violin came to a screeching stop as if the mere sound of your voice was disrupting the flow of its song.

"No," the girl responded after abandoning her cello and running to your side. She pointed to the other side of the house where the window's blinds were closed yet light still shined through them. "His room is right across from mine, I should know I get the brunt of the blow every time he strums his stupid guitar."

Your voices dropped into pure silence when you saw something moving in their direction from the balcony. The door to the outside area slowly screeched open as the figure on the other side pulled on its door handle, stepping onto the wood floor of the balcony and letting the floorboards creak under their weight. Your eyes widened at the sight of a red-tinged violin, it's body scratched from its long term usage and its color dull from the lighting the setting sun had given them.

A boy stepped into view after the violin, the brown hair bouncing on his head like a bunny's tail. His resting face looked like you were staring at a statue, unable to catch any hint of movement in most of his features unless he blinked his eyes every few seconds. Right beside his eyes was some sort of mark, more of a rosy color than the rest of rather pale skin. He must not leave his house that much. After a few moments of silence, he leaned over the balcony's hand railing and spoke, "What do you want?"

The girl beside you glanced between the boy and you frantically, trying to piece two and two together. "you... is that the—"

"I want," you yelled up to him, interrupting your friend's question to respond to the boy above them. A smile began to play on your lips as you spoke, excitement festering up in your chest. You had found him. You had found the violinist from your first year. "I want you to play for me one of your best songs yet."

II.

There was just something about mornings you hated, no matter the day of the week. They'd always leave you more exhausted than you were the night before, whether you had gone to sleep late or not.

Maybe it's because of the dorm room you stayed in, assigned the room the moment you had gotten accepted into your university. It wasn't tiny, but it was definitely much smaller than your room at home. Your belongings barely had enough legroom with your roommate's whole entire area taking up more than half of the room. Despite being rather clean, to an extent, and cool during the day it was also incredibly hot at night.

A few months back the air conditioning unit for the floor you lived on broke down due to age. The university had reassured the students that they'd be looking into the broken unit and the technicians would be coming in and out of the building to fix it. However, they were rather slow with the process. Instead of just moving toward the third floor where the problem had started, they were moving from room to room on each floor the building had.

Apparently, they were just going to fix the problem in one go, however one go suddenly turned into a few days. A few days turned into a few weeks. And a few weeks turned into two months.

Thankfully they were on the edge of the summer season, the crisp breeze of the autumn air in October beginning to blow throughout the city. However that breeze simply abandoned them every time the night fell, the hallways and the common room being filled to the brim with students trying to escape the blazing heat. One would think it would be much cooler around the nighttime, so did they.

You weren't the heaviest of sleepers either, which meant you'd wake up at even the slightest vibration of a phone. One could only imagine your reaction when your alarm clock suddenly blared its ear piercing wake up call. The irritating buzzing of the built on alarm would always shock you out of bed like a cat. Yet even when you knew you were wide awake, you constantly struggled to force yourself up and out of your room. If time would allow it, you would lay in your very warm and comfortable spot in the bed for at least an hour or more.

What's even worse for you was that your dormitory was co-ed, which meant that next door to you was a group of boys who were sharing a room for the school year. They were loud, constantly moving around in the middle of the night, and screaming at random times of the day which usually ended up being the time that you used to study. There were always noise complaints about those students. No one on their floor, or the floor above and below, like them that much. Yet they never seemed to tone down the problem, they made them worse with every noise complaint that was filled to their resident assistance.

Every time they'd get a noise complaint, they'd go and find someone else who was just a little too loud one day and pin the blame on them. It was a way to show that everyone in the building made a commotion and that they shouldn't be the only ones punished for it. You didn't really care about what they were doing until you had suddenly become a target one day.

"I'm sorry, what?" you questioned them, leaning up against the door frame with your arms crossed. In front of you stood the two boys that lived in the dorm next to you, nearly towering over you like the buildings in the city thanks to the monstrous amount of height. They appeared to be up to no good when they had randomly shown up, and you were absolutely right.

"Are you the one who has been playing that music for the past three days? What was it... classical music?" He asked, tugging at his hair as he spoke. He glanced towards his roommate for confirmation, who nodded his head vigorously in response to his question. "Are you a music major or something? Maybe in the orchestra? If not it's been blasting really loudly lately and my roommate here has a majority of his classes at eight am. Right, Jaehyun?"

The boy didn't seem like he was on board with being used as an excuse at first, raising his eyebrow and staring at his roommate in confusion before turning to you. "Right, I have to get up so early for all my classes. I'd really appreciate it if you keep the violins and cymbals and triangles to like a minimum so that it doesn't bother me anymore."

"If not we'll take it to the RA," His roommate quickly added to put their threat in full effect. "And we'll file a noise complaint for disturbing us."

You scoffed at the thought, wanting to slam the door closed and forget about their petty revenge. "Aren't you the same duo that got a noise complaint filed to them last week because of an extremely loud yet unidentifiable thud..." you began before turning on your heels and correcting yourself. "Oh, my apologies. I meant boom, extremely loud yet unidentifiable boom that came from the laundry room. Only for one of the students on the lower floors to go down there and find that one of the washers and dryers had literally malfunctioned and exploded?"

"Listen," One of the boys tried to interject, his ears burning bright red as you kept talking. "That's not... listen, we—"

"Didn't they go on the security cameras to find out who had done the damage? Because a washer and dryer going suddenly haywire on its own is extremely worrisome and dangerous for the students who may have been around during that time. And weren't you two—"

"Classical music is such an amazing genre of music!" The roommate interrupted, yelling over your voice in a panic. There was a pained smile on his face as he hooked an arm around the other boy, punching his arm to follow along as he spoke. "I mean, it has such a clean and light texture to it, simplistic but a great melody nonetheless! God, it gives me nostalgia for a time I wasn't even alive in! Isn't that right, Jaehyun?"

"Oh," the boy spoke, his eyes darting in between his roommate and you. Slowly a smile began to grow on his face to mask his growing embarrassment as he gestured towards the other boy. "Of... of course! Johnny has such nice music taste! So you know when he says a genre is really good it really means something. Seriously love classical music, man. Lulls me right to sleep!"

Needless to say, they choose to not bother you as much as they used to. The strange and loud noises that would echo through the dormitory walls had gotten significantly lower since that day. They didn't stop completely yet but it was enough for you to keep your peace of mind before waking up every day.

Your mornings had gotten relatively calmer after that incident as well. Both of those boys were usually out of the dormitory by the time you were awake to attend classes or work, so you didn't run into them much during the week. You'd have calm enough mornings to where you didn't feel the need to nearly pass out on a car or bus ride to your campus and almost miss your stop. It felt like a dream come true when you would hop out of whatever vehicle you were in and would be right on time before your classes even started.

"Y/N!" A feminine voice screamed, catching you off guard when an arm suddenly slung around your neck. You clutched onto the bag hanging off your shoulder as you nearly tumbled to the ground at the sudden addition of weight, bringing the other girl down with you as you struggled to comprehend what was going on. They got a few stares from the other students who were arriving and leaving the campus but no one said a word to them. Thankfully everyone practiced the art of minding their business. "You'll never guess what I got!"

"Do I want to guess?" You questioned, shoving the girl's arm off of you so you could regain your balance. Once you were stable enough to stand up, you turned around to see who had stumbled into your path. The girl's eyes were wide with innocence and excitement as she stood in front of you, fidgeting in place as she tried to contain herself. Most of the energy she'd originally be exerting into jumping up and down was focused into the beaming and bright smile she couldn't wipe off of her face even if she tried. "Do I have to guess?"

"Yes, you have to," She demanded, holding her hands behind her back to hide whatever got her spirits high. The girl must have ordered some sort of object online again and simply couldn't wait till after your classes to show you. "It's so worth it, I promise! Just... just guess!"

A sigh escaped your mouth as you straighten your posture, reading deep into the girl's expression to try and figure out what it was. "I'm going to guess—"

"Two front row seats to our school's very own band performance!" The girl nearly squealed, shoving two flimsy pieces of paper in your face. You took a few steps back in order to align your sight with the tickets, taking them out of the girl's hands to inspect.  Both tickets were for general admission, their names printed on it with the date they were expected to attend the performance. "Aren't you excited? I literally fought tooth and claw to get these before they sold out, and you know these sell out fast!"

"Band? Like the guys who play trumpets and bass drums during school games?" You questioned, glancing up from the tickets to face your friend. The tickets didn't have exactly who was performing written down on it, simply stating that it was a live music event. "Why would you go watch them play? I thought you were more of a... pop genre person?"

The girl rolled her eyes at your response, snatching the tickets from your hands and placing them back into your pockets. "No, not the band. Who goes out of their way to specifically watch our band team play?" She hissed. "I mean like rock bands. You know, the type of people who play the drums and guitars in one big band and perform on stage with a lead singer and everything. That type of band."

"My point with you being a pop genre person still stands," you mumbled in response.

"Yes I do like pop music, I understand that," The girl clarified. "But we're going to see Aurora. Our school's very own rock band! Do you seriously not know who they are? I know you listen to classical and orchestral music and all, but I thought you were at least in the loop with Aurora!"

You scoffed as you began to walk forward, shoving your hands into your pockets and you spoke. "Just because I don't listen to the popular music right now doesn't mean I'm out of the loop! I'll have you know that I am a very big fan of idol groups. I even participated in those farewell events when groups’ oldest members start enlisting in the military."

"Idol groups have absolutely nothing to do with Aurora and you know it," your friend grumbled. "Do you seriously not know who Aurora is? At all? Have I seriously been friends with a hermit crab this whole time?"

"Fine then," you shrugged. "Go ahead, tell me about this Aurora band since you're so obsessed and knowledgeable about this group I've never heard of."

Aurora is a much bigger thing than you had imagined. From your friend's knowledge, it was a group of boys who had gathered around the beginning of the year together, all of them having several different traits and personalities that simply meshed together all too well. They had created the band, Aurora, for fun at first as they were all instrumentalists with different crafts. They had started busking in order to make money as a side job and quickly grew in popularity with the audiences they performed to.

Their university had caught wind of their musical abilities and had asked them to perform during the annual club fairs to help attract more students. After that, they seemed to have skyrocketed in popularity within the college campus. Jung Wooyoung, the group's bassist, Song Mingi, the group's lead guitarist, Choi San, the group's drummer, and Jeong Yunho, the group's lead singer, had become some of the most well-known people on campus.

Everyone seemed to know them and wanted to listen to their music, which is why your friend was so excited to be getting front row tickets to their next performance. You thought it was funny though, Wooyoung was the guitarist boy that lived next door to the girl. 

"The past is in the past!" She exclaimed, throwing up her hands as the two entered the university's building. The indoors wasn't very crowded, all the students attending were spread throughout the area either taking a break before their classes began or nearly booking it straight up the stairs in fear of being late. "Sure I wanted to murder him with my cello beforehand, but it's okay because we put our differences aside like you said we should have. And it's good that we did because we ended up going to the same university."

"So..." you began, thinking for a few moments before turning towards your friend. "Does this mean he's your favorite member? I mean you've got the background and chemistry for a nice little love story don't you think?"

"Oh absolutely not," she immediately responded. "We may have made up that summer but I have not spoken to him since. Plus my favorite member is their drummer so if anything I'd like to start a love story with him. Do you think I should plan out of my outfit for the music event? What if I actually start a love story with him like in those tv shows my parents used to watch? We catch each other's eyes during the performance and before we're about to leave I get asked backstage to meet him in person!"

You visibly cringed at your friend's fantasizing, putting four feet of space in between the two of you. "Gross. Go to class before you contaminant me with your fantasies."

"Oh shut up." She rolled her eyes, stopping in her tracks so that you were forced to wait for her. "Everyone likes to fantasize about their love life every once and awhile. It's natural to want something grander than reality to happen to you."

"You are the most cliche woman I have ever met," you mumbled, glancing over your shoulder to look at the girl. "You just told me you want to make eye contact with him and immediately fall in love just like that! Have a fun time dreaming about that while you stand in a crowd full of people in your general direction."

"You're so mean to me!" She yelled, causing everyone in the vicinity to turn and stare at the sudden commotion. "You're just mad that the violinist boy from freshman year refused to play music for you even when you got on your knees! And you were looking for him your entire high school career!"

You sprinted towards the girl at full speed, clamping your hands over her mouth to silence her. She screamed into your hands as you dragged her away from the public eye and muffled her voice. "Heejin, are you out of your mind?" You growled, looking behind you to see if anyone had heard her. "I thought we had both agreed to pretend like that never happened?"

The girl pried your hands away from her mouth and smiled innocently up at you. "We did promise. I just never forgot."

You shoved the girl towards where her lecture hall was located, a frustrated frown growing on your face as a pinkish flush began to creep across your face. "Go to your stupid business math class. Go before I chase you all the way there!" you threatened through gritted teeth. Her friend laughed at the girl's response, skipping like a child to her class for the day.

You really did get rejected that day, it was too ingrained in your brain to forget. The boy had stood on the balcony staring down at the two with a bored and uninterested expression in his eyes, tilting his head like a dog's when you screamed your demands up at him. Honestly, you didn't know exactly what you were expecting. Did you really think that he was just going to pick up his violin and start playing whatever tune he knew just because you asked him to? You didn't even say please!

You had spent a good ten minutes arguing with the boy about how you had been searching for him for years just to make him play at least ten seconds of a song for you. Each time you'd explain your situation to him, he'd immediately give you a dry response of why he kept declining you. He didn't even say it politely! He stared at you straight in the eyes and told you," I don't want to play for you because you aren't worth it."

You swore if you could jump high enough, you would have bounced onto the balcony and strangled him for his rude behavior. It was truly a sight for sore eyes watching an angry and frustrated high school senior scream up at an innocent looking but totally uninterested boy on the balcony. The argument was always almost completely one-sided as well, which made it slightly embarrassing to watch from the sidelines.

You had forced your friend to promise you that she'd either forget the whole incident or pretend like it never happened. Either one was good with you since your friend was known to tell everyone's stories when you weren't paying attention. She had gone this far without saying anything so the urge to talk about it must have been truly bubbling up inside of her. It's been a few months since the incident occurred and the memory is still fresh in your minds.

"God, I'm never gonna live down that stupid incident am I?" you grumbled, practically stomping towards your end destination. "Just when I thought maybe I was finally growing past it, she has to go and bring it back up again. Doesn't she know I'm still healing from that embarrassment? It took a toll on pride and this is how she helps mend the wound? By opening up again?"

You stopped in place when a melody began to waver in the air, following along the cold breeze of the university's air condition. The music notes hopped from breeze to breeze as it traveled through your ears to the next. The sound continuously grabbed your attention as each note was struck no matter how many times you turned to keep walking. It was hitting you like a rock to the head as your brain immediately identified the music maker to a violin.

You slowly turned around to see a few students peering through a crack in some double doors, staring intently on what was on the other side. "They're at it again," one of the older students spoke, holding the door open for his friends to look through. "They're much earlier this time than usual, we'll only catch a little bit of the performance. Do you think something important is happening?"

"You think they're competing for first chair again?" One of the younger students asked, glancing up towards the boy who had spoken beforehand. He shrugged in response to their question, but he seemed to agree for the most part. "Whatever it is, I bet Hong is about to take the first chair again. He's always the first chair. No one can beat that boy when it comes to the violin."

"Kang is always right behind him though, don't forget that," another voice reminded, trying to get a better view of the inside. "Both of them are musical prodigies, and the conductor has always been fond of Kang's playing style. I think he'll get first chair this time."

You couldn't help but let curiosity take over, standing just a few feet away from the group of friends and trying to peer through the small windows of the door. It was rather dark near the entrance to the room, but farther back was lit up by lights that illuminated the wood floor stage where two performers stood. The doors seemed to have led towards an auditorium from the looks of it. You couldn't exactly see their faces from how far away you were, but you could make out a little bit of what was actually going on.

A boy stood in the middle of the stage, the music coming directly from him as he strummed the violin with his bow, grace and elegance oozing off of him. He seemed rather focused on playing his violin precisely, not missing a single note in the song as he allowed the rich and melodic song to ring through their ears. The opened door seemed to amplify his sound even more, ringing within your brain as if it was trying to engraved its sound into her ears. Hearing a violinist play in person was truly much different from hearing it through speakers.

In a chair behind the violinist sat another figure, holding what seemed to be a violin as well in his hands. You assumed that it was the competition who had played their song earlier before you had arrived on campus. His shoulders seemed to tense as the violinist held his final note, a plaintive sound echoing through the auditorium as he held his form to leave an everlasting effect on his listeners.

The students in front of you held their breath as he finished, staring intently at where you assumed the conductor was sitting for his reaction. There was a moment of silence after the note finally fizzled into nothingness, no longer bouncing off of the walls after finding a home in the audience's ears.

"It's Park," the younger student spoke, standing up from where they originally crouched down. "Park is the first chair once again. Honestly, was I expecting a change? No, not really. He's just that talented."

"I was really rooting for Kang this time," the other student spoke, huffing as they crossed their arms in disappointment. "I wonder what he did to not get picked again this time. Usually, Kang performs wonderfully but we weren't early enough to catch his turn."

"Whatever it is," the older student added, shutting the door to the auditorium and shrugging his shoulders. "I'm sure Kang will get over it. I mean that's always next time! But I guess I say that every time this happens..."

When the trio had disappeared from sight, you couldn't help but open the door to the auditorium and peek inside. You had been walking past this exact area how many times and you didn't even notice an event like this happening? Your either extremely stupid or completely oblivious, there's no in between.

You pulled on the heavy auditorium doors, peering in the room to take a look for yourself. The room was chilly, much colder than the breezes nature had been giving you so far. It was like you had stepped straight into the freezer, feeling the need to rub your arms for warm to make sure you didn't suddenly die from the cold. "How long has this place been here? I could have sworn this was an administration office or a classroom... literally anything but an auditorium..." you mumbled to mumbled, your eyes drifting towards the stage.

Only one violinist was at the stage, his instrument dangling in his hands as he sat in silence. The other violinist and conductor were nowhere to be seen, abandoning him to be alone with his thoughts. He must have been the one who wasn't picked by their conductor for first chair, reveling in his defeat by his peer. "Is it that serious?" you mumbled, going to close the door before you zoomed to your class, only just a few minutes late.

Though you saw the violinist rise from his seat in the corner of your eye, approaching the edge of the stage to leave the room. Of course, being the generally nice person you were, you pushed the door back open, holding it open for the violinist to pass through. "Hey, are you about to— Woah! Woah, woah, woah, don't do that!" You yelled at him.

The violinist had raised his instrument high above the ground, a bored and uninterested look in his eyes as he debated on whether he was going to let the violin drop from the height it was at and scar it. It definitely wasn't going to shatter and break, but an ugly dent would be achieved through the notion. Your yelling seemed to stop him in his tracks, preventing him from possibly making the worst decision in his life.

"Don't violins cost a lot of money?" You nagged, forgetting about the door you were holding open and marching towards him. "I know you might be frustrated over whatever just happened but is it really worth breaking your instrument? You should be satisfied with the fact that you even got the chance to be chosen as an option for, what was it, first chair? Whatever it is, I think breaking your violin might be a really bad..." you trailed off as you got closer, slowing down your pace as you got closer to the stage

The violinist stared at you through his long blonde bangs, his eyes gleaming in the dingy and dim stage lights. Despite the horrible lighting it seemed to illuminate him as if he was some sort of statue on display, every curve and sharp corner of his face being highlighted just perfectly. His impassive expression refused to let you in on any sort of emotion or thought in his head, locking you out with every chain known to man. His eyes glanced over you, reading you like an open book before he finally spoke. "Why... do you care?"

Your eyes dropped from his face to his violin, taking note of the bored expression and the red tinged violin in his hands. It seemed like it had been used frequently, it's the color worn from age and usage with scratches scattered throughout the instrument's body. "Oh...," you trailed, dropping your hands to your side in defeat.

How long had he been here? Hiding right under your nose in what seemed to be plain sight. How long were you going to go without realizing the violinist from your freshman year was attending the same university as you? "It's you again."

The boy titled his head curiously, a moment of silence expanding over them like a blanket. You felt like you were going to twitch and squirm under his gaze, the eerie silence of the auditorium and his almost blank stare making the atmosphere uncomfortable for you. All you could think about was the one sided argument you two had; how you had embarrassed yourself in front of your whole neighborhood just because you wanted him to play a song for you. The amount of humiliation that was crashing over you like angry waves could have washed you right of the auditorium if it wanted to.

The violinist crouched down on the stage to look down on you, resting his head on his hands as he began to speak. “Do I... know you?”

“Do you know me?” You repeated, disbelief prevalent in your tone of voice. “Did you really just ask that? Of course you know me! Remember from this summer? Just a few months back?”

The boy nodded his head as you spoke, absorbing all the information you were telling him and letting it process in his brain. He closed his eyes as he began to form his final thoughts, leaning back on his heels before opening them again and staring at you. “Ah... I remember now. You were Wooyoung’s fling for a couple weeks... right?”

“What?” You exclaimed, a rosy pink tint spreading across your face as you spoke. You’ve never even spoken to the guitarist boy when he lived near you, nevertheless have a fling with him. The mere thought of doing something so... dangerous like that made your skin crawl. “No... I don’t... listen, are you serious? You don’t remember who am I at all? Not a thing about me seems to trigger some sort of memory in you?”

“Not to be rude,” he responded, lifting himself out of his crouched position and beginning to walk across the stage to the stairs positioned at the side. “But you don’t look like the most memorable type. I mean if I don’t remember you are, would anyone else be able to?”

His blunt honestly was like a knife to the chest, only he was repeatedly sinking the weapon into your already open wound. Had he always been this straightforward with people? Of course he was, that’s why you never got him to play a song for you. You didn’t even know whether or not you liked the fact that he didn’t recognize who you were because he had formatted his words. You’d much rather be remembered for something embarrassing you did than be forgettable as a whole.

Though by the time you had clocked back into reality, a snarky and rude comment ready to hit the bullseye on the back of his head, he was gone. There was no sign of violinist boy anywhere in the room, as if he has quiet literally disappeared into thin air. “I should have just let him smash his violin to pieces,” you rumbled, now not only late to class but also filled with bitter rage that wasn’t even reciprocated.

[giuliafc]

Stuck in a Cabin (with you)

Stuck in a Cabin (with you)

Read on: Ao3 || FFN || Wattpad

Summoned to save his Lady's life, Adrien gets stuck with her in a cabin during a blizzard. Identities get revealed, feelings come out...but who's been plotting to kill Marinette? Will the culprit be punished? Read to find the answer :) (Adrienette)

Written by: JuliaFC

Betas: Khanofallorcs, Agrestebug, Etoile-Lead-Sama and genxha. Thank you all so much!

Cover Art credit: Rosehealer02 on Deviantart

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter 1 — Lila’s plan

Lila sighed looking at the message that had just pinged on her phone.

Mamma: [Sorry, tesoro. I got stuck at work because of the snow, don’t know when I’ll get home tonight. If you want, you can order something. Otherwise dried pasta is in the first cupboard at the side of the hob. I’ll make it up to you. Love you!]

Even after all those years, messages like those left a hollow feeling into her heart. Lila had been moving around a lot in the last few years, because of her mother’s job. She hated her mother’s job. Because of it, Lila had had to leave her grandparents and aunt in Sicily and all her childhood friends. Besides, her mother had been completely absent since she started working at the embassy, sometimes not even coming back home before Lila went to bed. Sometimes she wouldn’t see her for days in a row because when she woke up to go to school, mamma was sleeping and when Lila would go to bed, mamma wouldn’t even have started to come home. Mamma tried to make up for it by filling her days off with a lot of activities they could do together, but that wasn’t enough for Lila. She wanted more. She wanted her mother all for herself, like she had been at home, when papà had been there and mamma hadn’t yet obtained her role at the Italian Embassy.

She had been moved around like a pawn: Vienna for a couple of years, then Berlin, Geneva, Dublin and finally Paris. A lot for a 14 year old girl, having to leave it all behind way too many times.

When she moved to Vienna, she had been bullied quite badly because of her accent and her difficulty speaking the language. She had been ostracised and had spent the better part of two years fighting against stupid kids that she couldn’t even understand very well. Add to the mix the fact that papà ended up having an affair and mamma decided to divorce and leave him, and Lila’s life became even worse, even lonelier.

Luckily her mother had been moved to Berlin, but the situation hadn’t improved for her. Vienna or Berlin, the language was still incomprehensible to her and the kids didn’t like her because she was new, uncool, and because her accent sucked. Because her skin was too olive. Because her hair was too brown, or her eyes too green. They used to make fun of her hairstyle, of her clothes, of anything they could put their hands on. Lila started developing a huge amount of rage, frustration and anger. Plus, she missed her papà terribly, and she couldn’t understand in her mind why her mamma had decided to leave him.

Then she moved to Geneva, and on her first day there she met a girl who ‘acted’ cool. She was a couple of years older than Lila; her name was Charlotte, but she allowed Lila to call her Lottie. She took her under her wing and gave her some very interesting lessons. Lottie was a manipulative wench. She used to be the most popular girl in class because she always knew what to say in order to flatter the interlocutor, twist words around and obtain their favour. Lila was fascinated by her ability and craved to learn how to do the same. She worked for months to copy Lottie’s mannerisms and behaviour.

‘In life, you need to always take the upper hand,’ Lottie told her. ‘Tell people what they want to hear. This will automatically bring them to your side, and when you have them wrapped around your little finger, there’s nothing that they won’t do for you. You just need to keep up the appearances and you’re set for life.

‘Always settle for the best. If you set your eyes on a boy, make sure that he’s the best catch in the whole school. Make sure to understand what he likes and slowly set your trap. Let him fall for you, and you’ll be automatically the most popular gal around.’ Lottie had proved her own advice right easily, and had ended up in a relationship with a pop singer that attended their school. That increased her popularity even more and Lila became much more envious of her.

‘If someone bothers you, destroy them before they can attack you, or as soon as you can after that,’ was Lottie’s last bit of advice.

Lottie taught Lila to act cool, taught her that image was everything. Soon ,they had become like twin sisters and instead of being the bullied one, for once Lila enjoyed the feeling of being the bully. They were L&L’s, and they were respected. Her heart broke the day her mother told her that they were moving again, but she had no choice. Saying goodbye to Lottie was one of the most difficult things she had to do in her still young life.

‘Stay strong, Lil,’ Lottie had told her. ‘Remember, image is everything. Teach those Dubliners how great you are and you won’t have any trouble. And if you do,’ she added with a wink, ‘send me a message and I’ll hop on the first flight!’

That had made her laugh. Lottie acted strong and rich, but Lila knew that in reality she would never have been able to uphold her promise, as she was still too young, and had no money.

Dublin hadn’t been that bad for her. Except the weather. The HORRIBLE Irish weather. She still had nightmares of the torrential rain and the storms. But at least, there was the sea. Lila had missed the sea so much in the last few years. She used to make excuses that she was sick, to skip school, take the DART metropolitan train and get off at Portmarnock, Greystones or Bray (more the first two than the latter, because the sandy beach reminded her more of the shores at home). She would walk on the beach without a care in the world, listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the sand.

She had followed Lottie’s advice and had acted cool as soon as she started in her new school. She had gotten used to lying when she was in Geneva under Lottie’s wing, and now the lies came out more natural than the truth. She had become immediately popular when she started, managing to get into a relationship with the most exclusive guy in the class (she didn’t like him, as he was a twat, so full of himself that you could hear him boasting from a distance, but she didn’t care. He was popular and that was all that mattered. He would never realise that she was only using him). She learned how to trick everybody, making them think that she knew all sorts of actors and celebrities. It was fantastic, she was loved and popular and her life was amazing. She was so upset when her mother was moved once more.

And that’s how she ended up in Paris — again far from her beloved sea. She hated the city, she hated the noise and the frantic way of life. Despite the horrible weather, she had loved Dublin because it was smaller and reminded her more of the small town she was born in. But Paris was massive, full of people, of noise. She couldn’t stand the noise. And she hated all those lights. Ville lumière my foot.

Immediately as she started in Françoise Dupont, she tried to remake the same setting she had carefully created in her previous location. But she found the big obstacle of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The most annoying girl Lila had ever dealt with. Except Ladybug, obviously. Such a tiny girl, but such a big problem for her, and for her resolution to follow Lottie’s footsteps. From the very beginning, Marinette had never fallen for her lies. From the very beginning, she had tried to unmask her and show to everyone her true colours. From the very beginning, she had been an absolute and utter pest.

Lila had fought back. She wouldn’t make it easy for Marinette to win against her; Lila had soon managed to get every student in the class wrapped around her little finger, as Lottie had taught her. She had hoped that soon Marinette wouldn’t be a problem anymore. But unfortunately, she still was. Even more annoyingly, Adrien, whom she was trying to charm in order to again be the most popular girl in school who dated the most handsome and popular guy, seemed to believe Marinette.

Lila had tried all her tricks. She had tried to bring the whole class to her side, she had tried to even manipulate Adrien’s father and make him think that Marinette was a bad influence on his son. But nothing seemed to have an effect on the blond model, and Lila had gotten desperate. She had finally managed to set up a great trap and had gotten Marinette expelled. However, the joy hadn’t lasted long because Adrien had threatened her and had gotten to the point of making a deal with her so that Marinette would be readmitted to school.

Lila was seething that day, but she had no choice. Losing Adrien’s friendship would have been even more detrimental to her image. It didn’t matter if it was only a fake friendship; it would add to her image, and image was everything, as Lottie said.

The more time passed, the more Lila hated Marinette. She had tried everything she could to make her life miserable, but the young designer somehow always managed to resist. Even getting akumatised and trying to use Hawkmoth’s power against Marinette didn’t work, because Ladybug and Chat Noir would get in the way and protect her. They would try to expose Lila’s lies. She had had to make her lies become bigger and bigger and create more and more imaginative excuses in order to keep up with the popularity she craved. And it was never enough, because Marinette always managed to dismiss her claims and most of the time prove her wrong.

From Lila’s point of view, Marinette was the enemy. She was the sole obstacle left in her path to getting what she wanted, and she would get what she wanted, no matter the cost. In her mind, there was only one path left to take to get rid of her.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had to DIE.

Finally, she had managed to come up with the perfect plan. The perfect opportunity.

The perfect excuse: a school project. She had cheated the sorting and gotten paired with Alya, and the weather today was giving her even more help. When something is meant to be, it’s meant to be. It had already been a cold winter up to then, but very unusually for Paris, in the last week the temperature had dropped way below zero. In fact, it had dropped so low that it had been declared the coldest winter in history, only topped once in the late 1800’s.

Lila didn’t like the cold. Her family came from a little village on the sea, where it was always warm even in the bad season. Yes, it had been cold from time to time, but the sea warmed the temperature up and made the chill more bearable. Her beautiful sea, which she missed so much after having gotten a taste of it back in Dublin. But there was no sea in Paris, only that stupid river… and no warm weather in the winter, especially not this year.

But that cold weather, for once, wasn’t upsetting her because it was helping her craft her plan; she had faced the freezing temperature that very morning before school, and had set up her trap. She would use the cold to her advantage. And this time, she’d have the perfect alibi, and not even Adrien would suspect of her.

This time Marinette would be gone. Forever.

“Are you all right, Lila?” asked Alya, her face showing genuine concern when Lila dumped her phone on the desk in front of her with a pout.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just another charity event being cancelled this week because of the snow,” she made up. Alya’s frown disappeared and the girl gave her a look full of admiration.

“I don’t know how you do it, Lila, your commitment to charities and people in need is admirable, really.”

Lila gave Alya her best puppy eyed glance. “This city, and especially Ladybug and Chat Noir, have done so much for me with all the times I have been akumatised. It’s only nice to give something back!”

Alya put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re a truly amazing person, Lila. I have been akumatised four times, and I guess half of Paris has been in a way or another, but nobody does all you do to ‘give it back to the community’.” The girl with glasses looked at her door thoughtfully. “But if you’ll excuse me a moment, I need the restroom.”

And that’s when the perfect opportunity arose. Alya’s phone was resting on the desk in front of them. Lila gave a cunning side glance to the brunette who had just stood up and was fixing her glasses on her nose and, with a graceful flick of her finger, she pushed Alya’s phone slightly making it fall to the ground, quickly kicking it with her foot underneath the computer desk so that Alya wouldn’t find it.

“Uh… I’m sure my phone was here a moment ago…” muttered Alya looking at the computer desk and scratching her head. She moved her gaze around superficially, but since she couldn’t see the phone anywhere, she sighed. “Well, never mind. I’ll be right back,” she said, looking at Lila before disappearing from view.

“Take your time,” said Lila, her lips curling in a wide smirk as she picked up the phone from the ground. Things seemed to be going her way this time. The phone was unlocked. Lila’s eyes had a triumphant gleam in them as she looked for a conversation with Marinette.

She quickly peeked to ensure that Alya was still in the restroom and opened the chat with Marinette. Then she typed the message she had been planning all day, clicking send immediately after.

Alya (Lila): [Hey, girl! The girls and I are planning to go to Lac Daumesnil. Fancy doing some ice skating with us?]

She kept eyeing the door of the restroom with concern, but Alya was still there. Soon she saw the three dots of the conversation flashing, meaning that Marinette was answering.

Marinette: [It’s been some time since I went ice skating. Last time was a disaster. Sounds like a good idea, Alya. I will be there in an hour]

Alya (Lila): [Great. Start skating if you get there before us. We’re on our way!]

Marinette: [OK!]

Lila looked at the messages with a smirk and took care of deleting each of them one by one. Alya wasn’t going to find out. It was after she had just deleted the last message that Alya emerged from the restroom and she put the phone down immediately.

Alya frowned at her. “Are you okay, Lila?”

“Yes. I found your phone; it was on the floor here.” She pointed at the side of the desk. “I thought I heard it notify you of something, but there’s no notification, nothing at all.”

Alya looked at her phone with interest. “Oh. Maybe an akuma alert?” She started scrolling through her phone, but she didn’t find anything new. “That’s peculiar, there’s no new announcement.”

“Don’t worry, I must have made a mistake,” said Lila, dismissing the conversation with a gesture of her right hand. “So we were saying, about Napoléon?”

This took Alya’s attention away from her phone and brought her back to concentrating on the project they were working on. Lila smirked — her plan was unfolding well.

Author’s Note:

Hi again! I know, I know, another story. I told you I was going to unload everything I had this weekend. This isn’t finished yet (well, one part is, and in theory it could be left like that, but the second part I thought is worth writing!) so I will update this, the AU and “When Magic Fails” as soon as I can. Hope you liked getting inside Lila’s head. The next chapters are not about her, don’t worry. Or rather, worry, because the next chapters are her plan unfolding. And the title of the next chapter (and the beautiful cover art) is kind of revealing… so, well, I’ll hide again… ^^;

In the next instalment of “Stuck in a cabin (with you)”, “Drowning”:

— “I don’t know, Marinette. This sounds fishy. Why aren’t your friends here yet?”

— “I can’t move, Tikki, I think I have cramps! HELP ME!”

— “Sugarcube! It won’t happen again, not if we can help it, don’t worry!”

Ehrm… I know. Doesn’t sound good, right? ^^ Please subscribe if you’re interested in knowing what is going to happen, so you will know when the next update is!

Last but not least, as usual, if you read this and you’re not part of our wonderful Discord server already, but you enjoy reading, writing and talking about Miraculous, please join our Discord server, Miraculous Fanworks (for people on FFN, discord dot gg slash mlfanworks). See you there soon. Not sure when I will update this story but it won't be too long! Promise!

[sugar-petals]

A Tarot Reader’s Utensils

☞ Here go some classic paraphernalia that can aid your reading process or serve as multi-purpose decorations.

disclaimer ✸ none of those are obligatory, all they do is make card reader life easier and prettier 😄 this post serves to inspire whatever serves your taste, convenience, and affinity. 

- a latin dictionary. trust me, it’ll serve you well. 

- little treasure chests and mason jars. every tarot reader becomes an apothecary down the line. mason jars are great to put battery-driven fairy lights in, it’s a quick and easy tarot table decoration to light up your spreads.

- standard notebook. everyone regrets not photographing or writing down their reading results every time.

- plants. i feel like us tarot readers are drawn to cacti in particular. maybe it’s because their maintenance is easy and they give powers of self-protection. i mean what does a cactus do: guard itself with spikes and a stable exterior. every energy worker can benefit from that. we naturally gravitate towards it anyway.

- for some of us, runes are the next step and i honestly can’t recommend making your own set enough once you researched the essentials. they are so helpful and great to carry with you. portable magic if you will. mix VERY well with pulling tarot cards. 

- candles, you know the deal. homely lighting is one aspect, but it’s also great for inviting the energy of wands i.e. fire. needs proper 30cm distance to other utensils and 10cm between each other, keep that in mind.

- an item that connects you to your family lineage. the tarot likes people who know their roots. if you ask the cards about your ancestors, such an item is even more beneficial. pick something with extra use. example: my father’s family is connected to italy — that’s where the tarot came from, no item needed. but for my mother’s side, i have a matryoshka doll. i can put little folded spells and affirmation notes into it. the dolls in a row also circle my tarot table so they look like protectors 😅

- clear quartz and tarot decks are best friends. a larger point rested on top of the card pile will amplify it energetically and keep it together physically. a crystal’s benefits are derived from its physical setup, so in this case clear quartz makes your readings clear. don’t look for it, the stone comes into your life out of nowhere.

- magnifying glasses. the LWB (little white booklet) that comes with some decks is printed in tiny font.

- shells are great. not just for keeping crystals, pendulums, or smudge sticks in them. also, shells for casting yes or no questions in addition to the tarot, cowrie shells (e.g. cypraea tigris) are the usual pick. 

- for tray-like shells, e.g. look for: all types of pectinidae (classic scallops), haliotis (abalones), pinctada (blue mother-of-pearl inlay), hyriopsis (shell halves with enclosed pearls), veneridae (venus shells), mimachlamys sanguinea or potamilus purpuratus (pink).

- if the star, empress, high priestess or moon show up in your self-readings, a star map you can rotate comes in handy. all these cards have references to constellations. you wanna see what the night sky shows you on the horizon that night.

- books on deities, angels, ascended masters, and spirit guides. whatever pops up in your day-to-day life often. e.g. the tarot has a lot of cards with angel references, it’s good to know. if you work with oracle cards, i bet my cactus you will need all four types of books sooner or later.

- pretty boxes and baskets. for your decks, it’s good to keep it all in one spot. boxes without a lid however, keep your cards in sight so you use them regularly. using decks equals charging them.

- empty old perfume bottles (smaller ones) and vintage ceramic pieces. if your clear quartz is busy elsewhere, you can put them on resting decks. i also found worn-out keys to be just perfect for that. 

- paper, pencils, scissors, rulers, stickers, labels. gotta love making DIY decks.

- a large juice mug. repurposed as a huge glass of water. you forget time when you do readings and need prolonged focus. keeping it close will save you from having to get up grumpily. also: making gem water is the shit. check which crystals you can use for it. 

- fossils. a statement piece or several smaller ones (you’ll be surprised, they are quite cheap). fossils activate ancient knowledge which is what the tarot is all about. great to put into crystal grids, too. choose whatever you’re guided towards. maybe something found in your country to make it even more personal.

- tarot cloth. a huge duh but you can’t actually find it. it’ll come to you.

- a book of world religions and mythology. the tarot has so many references. e.g. the hierophant’s insignia. or the high priestess with the tora. the hanged man representing saints. the hermit being a druid. the wheel of fortune being karma. the sphinx depictions on the chariot. even if you’re not religious, knowing about these details can help you understand the full imagery.

- let me be a pop culture victim: selenite towers. a modern tarot reader’s antenna crystal. it’s in every pick-a-card youtube reading and all over ig. i think it’s clever marketing, but still not a hoax if you know what greek tradition it has. it’s connected to the moon and the high priestess because selenite shimmers just like our lunar friend in the sky. selene (Σελήνη) = greek for moon. it was said to change according to the moon phases. be careful because it’s more porous, selenite is a saline structure with a mohs hardness of merely 2 out of 10. 

- a meditation pillow. energy work and introspection/awareness go hand in hand. it’s great to chill out and observe your breath for a little while. tarot readings can be taxing, grounding is the right thing to do.

- if you don’t look it up online, an astrology book. so many astro details in tarot. e.g. the emperor has an aries-inspired throne. or, swords represent air signs.

- salt lamps. they’re affordable, their vibes are great, they’re beautiful. tarot readings with candles, fairy lights, and salt lamps on are a different level. salt has so many properties physically and metaphysically, where to start. you can only win if you have a salt lamp.

- fake fur. perfect for your tarot table if you don’t use candles. crystals, shells and runes will never roll away. it’s the ideal decor and easy to repurpose on your tarot chair, altar, or shelf if you want to change it up.

[fitnesstimesblog]

Disclaimer: There is no shortcut. If you have more to lose you will have to change your lifestyle drastically. If you only need to lose a couple of pounds you will still need to make some changes. Unless you have a very fast metabolism (which, if you are actively trying to lose weight, you most likely don’t) you will not lose 10 kg in 2 weeks. I am not creating this post as a weight loss programme, it is a guide to help you in making decisions on how you want to lose weight.You need to do this for yourself.

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Bad Habits that Make You Put on Weight

Mindless snacking: if you are going to eat snacks take a look at the serving sizes and stick to that. If you have a bag of popcorn actually weigh out the stated portion size into a bowl and only eat that. If you are dieting I would suggest not snacking or sticking to one snack a day.

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Low levels of activity, this is bad habit most people picked up during lockdown. People count steps for a reason - it is healthy to walk 10,000 steps a day and if you are trying to lose weight walking 10,000 - 15,000 will help a lot.

Takeaways. It is okay to get a fast food takeaway once or twice a week. A problem arises when people order takeaways almost everyday. I don’t have to tell you why that is not healthy. If you seriously want to lose weight stick to one takeaway a week or none at all. If you do buy takeaway make sure to purchase from the children’s menu as the portion sizes are smaller.

Lack of sleep. I am the biggest culprit of this, but you must get at least 8 hours of sleep a day. The negative effects lack of sleep has on your body seep into every aspect of your life. Turn off your phone at 10 pm and get some quality sleep

Not drinking enough water. Anyone successful weight loss journey involves a person up-ing their water intake. You should be drinking a minimum (and I mean bare minimum) of 2 litres of water everyday but when I am losing weight I like to up my intake to 3 litres +. On the opposite end of the spectrum don’t drink too much water (I know, contradictory right?). Drinking too much water is very dangerous so I would say slowly raise your uptake and never drink over 4 litres a day.

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Diet

Disclaimer: There are no shortcuts. When you have more to lose, you need to radically change your lifestyle. If all you need to do is lose a few pounds, there are still a few changes that you need to make. Unless you have a very fast metabolism (which you probably don't if you want to actively lose weight), you won't lose 10 kg in 2 weeks. I am not creating this article as a weight loss program, it is a guide to help you make decisions about how you want to lose weight. You have to do it yourself.

Bad habits that make you fat

Mindless Snacks: When you are snacking, watch your portion sizes and stick to them. If you have a bag of popcorn, weigh the serving size in a bowl and eat it. If you are on a diet, I recommend that you avoid or stick to one snack per day.

Low activity levels are a bad habit that most people develop while in detention. People count steps for a reason: it's healthy to take 10,000 steps a day, and if you're trying to lose weight, 10,000-15,000 steps will do you very well.

Take away. There's nothing wrong with buying takeaway fast food once or twice a week. A problem arises when people order takeaway food almost every day. I don't need to tell you why it's unhealthy. If you really want to lose weight, limit yourself to one or no intake per week. If you are buying to take away, be sure to buy from the children's menu as the portions are smaller.

Lack of sleep. I'm the biggest culprit for this, but you need to get at least 8 hours of sleep a day. The negative effects of insufficient sleep on your body permeate all aspects of your life. Turn off your phone at 10 p.m. and get a good night's sleep

Not Drinking Enough Water Any successful weight loss involves a person increasing their water intake. I should drink a minimum (and I mean the minimum) of 2 liters of water a day, but when I lose weight I happily increase my intake to 3+ liters. On the other side of the spectrum, you shouldn't be drinking too much water (I know, isn't that a contradiction in terms?). Drinking too much water is very dangerous so I would say increase your intake slowly and never drink more than 4 liters a day.

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Diet

Of course, calorie control is an important factor in dieting, but it has to be a healthy restriction. I would say never go under 1,500 calories. Very restrictive diets (<1500) are unsustainable, unhealthy, dangerous, and generally a bad idea.

Here are some of my diet "tips" that have helped me lose weight:

Drink soups. Creamy, stringy, veggie-filled, warm, and nutritious soups (can you say I love soups)? Soups are great for dieting because they are generally healthy, high in vitamins and nutrients, and more easily digested. I know that when I drink soups, I don't have gas and never feel that bloated. Serve with a slice or two of French baguette for a light dinner.

Eat five small meals throughout the day. If you limit your calories to 1,500, you can have five meals of 300 calories evenly throughout the day.

By stocking up on vegetables and fruits, you can eat more for fewer calories, such as: For example, eat a 250-calorie muffin or large banana, a bowl of raisins, and a can of raisins (230 calories). Try to get your nutrient sources from low fat options. Instead of getting your calcium from whole milk, go for skimmed milk, yogurt, sardines, beans, and lentils.

Cut down on carbohydrates. Not exactly, but you should try not to eat more than 2 slices of bread a day. Try not to eat more than 2 bowls of rice a day (choose brown rice, it's more nutritious). Eliminate juices, sodas, and other sources of unnecessary sugar. Prepare meals so you can make informed decisions about what to eat

Here is an example of how I ate while on my diet:

6:00 am - a large banana and oatmeal with soy milk 9:00 a.m. - a bowl of raisins and 1/2 sardine sandwich (1 slice of wholemeal bread) 12:00 - a plate of white rice with sauteed chicken breast and vegetables. 3:00 p.m. - Celery, cucumber and carrot sticks with hummus and grilled salmon 6:00 p.m. - Carrot soup with coconut milk and a slice of French baguette

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Exercise

The scourge of my existence. Sorry I didn't come here with advice on the gym and lifting for a six pack. I do not know how. I can only say that if you want to lose weight, cardio helps a lot (in my experience).

Just do cardio every day. Here are some examples:

Swimming (30 minutes) Walking (more than 10,000 steps) Jogging (30 minutes) Skipping rope (15 minutes) Elliptical trainer (30 minutes) Stationary bike (30 minutes) Rowing (20 minutes) Sprint intervals (30 minutes) HIIT, high-intensity interval training I've lost most of my weight through jogging and rowing, and I used to jog for 30-60 minutes three times a week and go to the rowing club twice a week. Remember that every route to weight loss and to the body is different. Find out what works for you.

The key point is that you try to start cardiovascular exercise at least 30 minutes a day, 5 days a week, and when you can increase the frequency and duration of the workouts.

General information

As I said, your journey is your journey. Do not compare your weight loss to anyone else's or try to rush the process. Think of it as a lifestyle change. A way to restore all of the unhealthy habits you have developed since you were born. Let it motivate you. Buy a goalkeeper you want to fit into and try on them regularly when you lose weight

That will be controversial. Weigh yourself once a month. Trust me. If you see this number drop after a month of hard work, you will feel a lot better. People who weigh themselves daily can base their diets and emotions on the number on the scales each day when weight loss is a combination of days and weeks of concerted effort.

https://www.subscribepage.com/get_your_keto_diet_plan

Be nice to yourself; Allow yourself to make a mistake and start over. You have to give yourself love, not hate and harsh words. Like telling a child who has fallen off a bicycle that everything is okay and needs to try again, the same grace and understanding should be shown. Join a weight loss support group or a neighborhood walking group - having support can be very uplifting and can make friends Occupy. When you're busy, don't eat. The way I maintain my weight loss and not fall into bad habits is to keep busy. Horseback riding, ballet, reading, bowling, gardening, work. Do whatever you can, don't sit idle and you will subconsciously increase your activity and end up eating without thinking.

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Island folk

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 6 | Part 7 Island folk | Part 8 >

Disclaimer: mention of late motherhood worries

Author’s note: This story is just so much fun to write. I set a scene and *BOOM* it just kind of writes itself. Now, I don’t know how long this writing craze will continue, but so far you can expect an update every day. You read that right; every day! 

Word count: 1.525

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers,

Dark are the abysses of my heart sometimes, and I know that keeping those thoughts under lock and key only make things worse. And so, for the first time on this blog, I’d like to share something really, truly personal with you. A little snippet of my thoughts for a tender of your time, I’d like to come clean about my most recent Google search which I did late last night, after hours of laying awake.  

Late motherhood.

Why? You may wonder. Well, with my relationships continuously failing and the years - and candles - slowly adding up to my birthday cakes, I feel the increasing unease in my heart whenever I come to think of having a family of my own. Will it happen? And if so, am I not too late already? All my friends and family members had their first children in their late 20s, yet here I am, the oddball, single Pringling through life at 37.

It was about 3 AM late last night when I found myself quelling my nerves by looking at pictures of older female celebrities having kids at the “ripe old age of 35”, which in my book is still super young, but of course we are looking at Hollywood standards here. And, to be quite frank, I’m not sure if it helped me, but at least it did offer me the slightest sliver of hope as I found that I’ll probably just need a little luck, good preparation..and perhaps a donor, to make my wishes come true.

Research is required.

But, let’s not get carried away just yet. I know what I want, now all I need to give myself is time. Time to listen to my heart and learn if this is truly it, time to investigate my options a little more and time to sleep. Because honestly, Google is one hell of a click-through trap when you can’t sleep - I may or may not have ended up falling asleep to videos of laughing foxes, which are truly..the cutest. In case you want to look it up and dare to delve into the time consuming trap that is watching random Youtube videos, then search for: “Finnegan fox”.

Hi-la-ri-ous.  

Also; apparently chocolate cakes have internet access. So, aherm, hello and welcome to my little writing den, oh mysterious chocolate cake of mine!

A very sleepy, but glad to have this off her chest,

Ali

The waves broke softly onto the shoreline as the wind tugged gently on my hair, my pen scribbling away on the paper notebook on my lap. For some odd reason I found it much more comfortable to write by hand, and so whenever the mood struck and I found the time, I snuck out to my little beach hide-out and started to write. This time it was for work, but sometimes I also worked on smaller fictional stories, the very act of writing calming my nerves considerably.

I looked up when I heard the sound of slushing feet through the fine sand, the distinct vibrations telling me someone was approaching me with slow, dragging feet. And.. it appeared to be not just anyone.

Henry.

So very suddenly I felt terrible about posting that blog this morning. Had he read it? Would he start a conversation about it? I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to have that conversation with him right now. We were at best just dating, our newly rekindled friendship slash relationship only a few days young.

He stifled a yawn as he plopped down beside me on the picnic blanket, his eyes sporting large dark circles beneath them, his shoulders slumping slightly as he looked me over. I sniffled, shaking my head at the fact that we both had barely slept - obviously.

‘Mornin’.’ He grumbled, a gentle smile reaching his lips, his body leaning forward, but halting mid-morning kiss. Almost automatically I closed the distance, my hand moving aside my notebook so I could lean in, lips brushing over his, which apparently was just what he needed, his lips curling up in a full smile. ‘Hi.’ I whispered into his lips, then leaned back, tucking some rogue curl behind his ear before studying him better. Once more he wore a blue shirt - he had a gazillion of those, didn’t he? - and some dark jeans, his hair fresh and messy straight out of bed.

’So…no sleep then?’ I inquired, watching him as he slowly moved his gaze towards the rolling waves before us. ‘Nope.’ ‘How come?’ ‘Hmm..’ He thought aloud. ‘..I suppose it is difficult to just stop my life right dead in its tracks.’ He sighed.

‘What’s up Hen?’ I scooted closer to him, fingering a hand through his curls, his eyes closing as he revelled into the simpleness of my touch.

‘I have to fly back to London for the weekend. There’s this event that my manager can’t seem to cancel without serious repercussions and..’ He sighed again. ‘You don’t want to go.’ ‘Not really no. But I will have to. The fox videos helped by the way.’

My heart summersaulted at his words - not only because he apparently read my blog, which wasn’t entirely surprising, but also because he was showing so much vulnerability. This large bear of a man was being honest about the things that frustrated him, something I had never experienced with previous partners. They’d always just burst out in flames all of a sudden, without giving me any fair warning before hand.

‘Hmm..’ I hummed, thinking. His eyes were still staring out to the sea, soft waves cascading in similar shades to his cerulean irises. He truly seemed to be a bit done with it all. 

‘I’ve got some swimming pig videos at the ready too.’ I added, laying my head onto his shoulder and wrapping both my arms around his large chest, wishing to comfort him a little. ‘Hehe..swimming pigs.’ He chuckled, his chest vibrating with near silent mirth. ’Yea..can you imagine? Those tiny, tiny legs kicking through aquamarine water, their noses sticking out the water like living, breathing, skin coloured electricity points. Oink oink!’

Henry’s chuckle turned into rumbling laughter, his shoulders shaking until he finally looked back at me, my head still resting on his shoulder. ‘Ali..I ..eh..know this is maybe a bit weird, but, would you perhaps like to join me? To London? Leaving Friday night, back Sunday morning?’

I sat up, my brown eyes staring into his deep blues. Tender, hopeful blues. ‘Hmm.’ I hummed, blinking for a moment as I mulled over his words.

‘I know it’s all going fast and I don’t want to pressure you.’ He added.

‘No, it’s okay. It’s ehm..okay. Yea, sure, I’ll come. I haven’t been to London in ages and don’t have weekend plans anyways.’

‘Ages?’ ‘Naa..okay..maybe not ages. More like months.’ I snorted. We both laughed until finally my eyebrow quirked up. ‘So..what kind of event are you ..or we..going to?’ Henry smiled, leaning in to kiss me, the sound of my fluttering heart drowning out all else around us.

The answer to my question didn’t matter, I was simply very happy that I could join him and finally get a sneak peek of his usual life. Henry’s life.

—

‘I’m still amazed at the fact that you managed to pack all your things in that one backpack.’ Henry grinned, pushing my backpack in the overhead storage locker in First Class. I grinned in turn, shrugging my shoulders as I sat back in my seat. ‘Oh you know. I don’t mock about. No need to bring the unnecessary.’

‘You’d make for a fine traveller.’ He admitted, plopping down in his seat, right next to me, his hand quite instantaneously interlacing with mine - he didn’t even seem to think about it -, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips as he watched two business men enter, taking their seats a few rows ahead, leaving us plenty of privacy.

Slowly, he cast me a curious glance. ‘What is it, dear?’ He asked, noticing my studious look, his smile growing and his blue eyes sparkling.

‘Mmm..just wondering. You probably thought about this far better than I have thus far. But if you’d start a family..how would that..go? Like..-‘ ‘The travelling and stuff?’ ‘Yea.’

Henry leaned into the headrest, his head tilting up slightly as he licked his lips. ‘It’s going to take some back-and-forthing with my partner. And it won’t be easy. It will not only be my children that will give you broken nights, you see.’ He grinned and my heart fluttered at his words - children! -, yet my mouth remained sealed, waiting for him to continue. He sighed. ‘I..would definitely slow down my career. For the longest time I didn’t even think of that as a possibility. But like you wrote quite perfectly; all my friends and family members had their children young and here I am..the oddball. I know I should not press my luck by demanding my partner to give up everything for me. That is just not fair.’

‘Give and take.’ I added.

‘Yes, give and take.’ He smiled at me, his large warm hand squeezing mine gently. It felt nice. ‘Okay..so another question. You live in London right?’ ‘Mostly, yes.’ He nodded, making me grin. ‘Yea yea..Superman has several mansions and a jet setting career that makes you quiver right back into your 2-bedroom flat.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘But all joking aside..why did you chose to stay with your parents, now you requested a “time-out”?’

Henry shifted in his seat, his smiling face turning to one holding a more serious expression. ‘I’m from the island baby. And I will always, ALWAYS return to the island. It is my one true home after all.’  

--

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[rufousnmacska]

This started as a little head canon list but, not surprisingly, turned into more. Disclaimer - I have not read Harry Potter or seen the movies in years. So, I’m sure I got some things wrong about the world. Please forgive me!

@kit-12 I hope you like it! 😊

(Trigger warning - physical abuse)

*****

- Manon first notices him one day at lunch. His laugh echoes across the great hall and pulls her attention from the book she’s reading. It’s about magical creatures, her favorite subject. Not one usually considered suitable for Slytherins, so she has it hidden inside a larger volume on curses. As she watches him sit down with his friends who are on the Gryffindor quidditch team, she realizes she’s seen him at practices. Slytherin practices. She realizes she’s seen him in the library quite often too. She realizes ... he is now staring at her. Manon sneers at him but he just continues to smile at her. Slamming her book shut, she leaves the hall. Knowing he watches her every step. The heat flushing her skin is from annoyance she tells herself. Nothing more.

- Dorian never cared for quidditch but he is a regular in the stands. That first match he attended between Gryffindor and Slytherin in his second year, that first glimpse of the all female Slytherin team - his house called them Witches, with a capital W, implying something more, something darker, than a normal witch - he was hooked. Something about their captain caught his attention and never let go. Even as the years passed and he had crushes on other people, acted on them, earned a bit of a reputation. They’d never shared a class, and their houses hated each other. But always, he felt her presence, watched her from afar, seeking out that silvery white hair she wore in a long braid. Finally - finally! - she looks at him across the long tables. As if she never knew he existed before. As she stares, he can’t help but grin. Seeing her full on, her eyes glowing like torches, her full red lips and long eyelashes ... He’s unable, unwilling to look away. Even when she tries to give him a nasty expression. He sees her red cheeks as she leaves the great hall.

- Manon pushes the boy out of her mind. Pushes everything out of her mind except quidditch practice. Slytherin calls them The Coven because they are almost never apart. They share a dorm room, have been on the team since their second year - they’ve been the team - take all the same classes. But as much as she loves flying and playing this game, there’s always a bubble of anxiety building in her before each practice or match. Always on the edge of bursting. As they soar around the stadium, following the patterns and directions they’d been given to a T, she can’t help but glance at their Head of House, watching through cold, narrowed eyes from the top row of the teacher’s box. The Matron’s focus is not on them however, but a small group of students on the other side of the stadium. Manon looks, knowing who one of them will be. Just as she spots his curly, dark hair, a beater strikes her in the thigh, almost knocking her from her broom. If not for Asterin nudging her up, she would have fallen. Those cold black eyes are now on her. And Manon knows what’s coming.

- Dorian used the cover of a dedicated group of students who followed quidditch as if their lives depended on it to view practices. The Slytherin team’s aerobatics are hypnotic, and even though he still can’t always see the moves and predict their plays, he loves watching them fly. But he hates the violence of it. Especially now, watching Manon limp off the field. As the other fans disperse, he breaks away and makes his way to the locker rooms. The Witches are silently stalking through the hall and he ducks behind a corner. Manon is not with them. He doesn’t miss the worried faces though. Once they pass, he proceeds, poking his head around the open door into the Slytherin locker room. The slap surprises him, but it doesn’t seem to shock Manon. She takes it as if it’s nothing new. As if the blood now dripping from her nose is common enough that she doesn’t even bother to wipe it away. Another slap and droplets of blood fly. Another and another. All while the Matron screams in her face. Dorian can’t turn away even if he wanted to. He wants to tackle the Matron and return the blows. But he can’t do that either. Manon’s eyes slide past the Matron and find him, watching. Her only acknowledgement of his presence is a slight widening of her eyes. A warning. Go. But he holds her gaze, trying to reel in his anger and magic, hoping to show her she’s not alone.

- Manon breathes a sigh of relief when the boy - Dorian, she found out his name yesterday - disappears before the Matron turns to leave. She is alone. Not allowed to use magic to heal herself, not allowed to go to the infirmary. Her nose feels broken and it throbs as she sits down on the bench a little too heavily. She thinks about trying to find some ice at least, but she doesn’t move. Even when she hears soft footsteps, she is still. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking a seat next to her. She says nothing. Dorian pulls out his wand and is about to wave it when she says, “No. If she sees it healed, it will be worse.” He clenches his jaw so hard she thinks she can hear his teeth grinding. Finally, she looks over at him. His brows crease as he looks at her face. His brilliant blue eyes belie a secret connection. Like he knows exactly what she’s feeling. “Can I at least...” He swishes his wand and she feels a cold breeze. She sees an ice drop form at the tip and understands, nodding for him to go ahead. He mumbles a spell and icy comfort spreads across her face. Manon sighs deeply, savoring the relief. Dorian is watching her, as if connecting dots. Quidditch is a dangerous sport. But she often has injuries that go untreated. Most from practices, which should be less violent than an actual match. He is about to say something when she stands, slowly, and says, “Thank you.” She leaves him sitting in the Slytherin locker room and trudges back to the castle.

- Dorian only catches glimpses of Manon over the next few days, in hallways or on stairs just as they invariably move away from him. She’s never close enough for him to see if her nose has healed. He hasn’t told anyone what he saw. But he notices the looks he gets from the Witches. Surprisingly, they don’t look like they want to bite his head off. Which they could maybe do, literally. They’re all experts at transfiguration and give themselves pointed teeth before matches. To him, they offer grateful, if hesitant, smiles. More like a slightly upturned side of their mouth. But he’s nodded back. Tonight, in the library, he is carrying a large stack of books to the check out desk when he passes an aisle and sees white hair gleaming in the torchlight. She’s tucked away in a cubbyhole, her head buried in a book. Dorian approaches, making noise so she isn’t surprised by him. When she looks up, some faint bruising remains on her face, but no sign of a still healing break. Reading his face, she says, “It wasn’t broken.” Then, eyeing up the books, she asks, “Light reading?” Dorian laughs. “Actually, yes.” Manon examines him, not the books, and asks, “Why aren’t you in Ravenclaw?” He stretches to see what she’s reading. A very old volume on dragons. The pages look brittle and he sees she’s wearing gloves. Something about that makes his heart warm. “I don’t know. Perhaps the sorting hat saw something more in me.” She wrinkles her nose. “Gryffindors. Always thinking they are the best.” Leaning against the edge of her desk, he says, “I’d be the best in whatever house I got sorted into.” This makes her laugh, as he’d hoped. “So you’re into dragons? My father knows people that work with them.” He doesn’t know why he brings up his father. But his eyes keep falling on the bruises and he tries to ignore them. If he can give her a happy distraction, he will. “I like flying,” she replies with a shrug. Confused, he asks, “What does that have to do with it? You want to fly on dragons? Why not hippogriffs or something ... I don’t know, smaller? Something people can actually ride.” She gives him a wicked grin that kindles the fire inside him. “Maybe I like dangerous things,” she says, clearly aware of the effect her smile has on him. Dorian grins right back, leans down close, only a few inches from her, and says, “Maybe I do too.” And then, the stack of books in his arms begins to slide and he fumbles around trying to keep them from falling. Several hit the floor and Manon begins to laugh, a clear, sonorous laugh that sends that heat rushing through him again. But she gets up and helps him gather them together. As they both crouch, picking up books, they are again very close. She stills and without looking at him says, “I’m sorry you had to see that the other day.” Dorian frowns, wanting to argue that she has nothing to apologize for. But he just asks, “Are you okay?” She looks at him as though no one outside of her circle of friends has ever asked that. And then she smiles softly and says, “Yes.” He knows part of it is a lie. But only part.

- Manon tries to avoid him in the halls but it seems like he’s always there, always just walking around a corner. Always in her line of sight. As if he’d appeared out of thin air a few weeks ago to be her shadow. Stupidly, she realizes maybe she’s the one watching for him. It takes overhearing Vesta whispering about him to Asterin to make her understand. She snaps at them to mind their own damn business and storms off to the quidditch pitch. The stadium will be empty this close to dinner and she can sulk in peace. As she whips through the air, feeling badly about yelling at her closest friends, feeling badly about ignoring Dorian, she wishes the wind would take her troubles away. Begs it to somehow put her in another house. Away from the abuse of the Matron. Away from the constant needling of the other Slytherins to bully and harass other students. Away from the constant eyes judging her if she steps out of line. She remembers Dorian’s words about the sorting hat and how it must have seen something in him to place him in Gryffindor. What had it seen in her to put her in the darkest house in the school? Did she have nothing more to her than cunning and ambition? Surely she possessed bravery, and intelligence, and loyalty. Didn’t she? Something catches her eye and she sees him climbing into the stands. Expecting to feel annoyance, she finds herself smiling as she flies over to meet him. Hovering at eye level, she says, ���Don’t you eat?” He grins and pulls a basket from his cloak. “Only if you will join me.” She can smell the steaming chicken and fresh bread. The chocolate brownies. Her stomach growls in answer and he begins to unpack the food as she lands next to him. They remain quiet, eating in silence until she can’t hold it in any longer. “Why are you being so nice to me?” Dorian looks adorably confused. “Because I like you?” Manon blushes. She can’t help it. His expression turns serious then. “I’ve wanted to talk to you for a very long time, but ... I didn’t want it to cause you any problems.” He doesn’t need to say what those problems are. She stares at him for a long moment, not sure of what to say. Until finally, she says, “I like you too.” And before she can talk herself out of it, because she wants to know if his lips are as soft as they look, because his smile sets her blood on fire, she kisses him.

- Dorian uses every excuse possible to ditch his friends each weekend they go to Hogsmeade. They suspect he has a new girlfriend but he’s managed to keep her a secret. Using an enchanted map he found in a book shelved in special collections, he sneaks back to the castle while they continue with their afternoon, thinking he’s merely a step or two ahead of them. Dorian hates that they have to keep it a secret, but he’d agreed with Manon when she’d requested it. He dreads seeing new bruises and that outweighed any annoyance he felt. As he sprints into the Room of Requirement, their meeting spot, he can’t wait to see her. Dorian stops dead in his tracks as he sees those bruises he’d feared. Manon tries to hide her face, but to no avail. “Hey,” Dorian says as he kneels down and gently pulls her hands away. Her gorgeous eyes are almost overflowing with tears. “Manon, what can I do?” She sniffs, “Nothing, I’m fine.” Her painfully swollen cheek says otherwise. Before he can think, his magic reacts, sending cold relief to her injuries. He lets her think it was deliberate, controlled. He says nothing about how her pain unleashes his magic, that it’s a manifestation of his hate and anger for the Matron. The potions professor who laughs at first years when they suffer burns or injuries in her class. The quidditch coach who beats her team captain at the slightest infraction. Too much, she reminds him of his father. The Minister of Magic who never fails to tell his son what an embarrassment he is. A man of power who hits with words almost as brutally as the Matron hits with fists. Pulling her close, he hugs her, until the shaking stops. “I hate this,” she chokes out between sobs. “I hate being punished for losing. I hate being watched. As if a Slytherin can only be one thing. I hate hiding here with you.” Dorian strokes her back. “I know.” He does know. The shame, the self hatred, the fear. Manon releases a long, slow breath, settling against him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

- Manon is rushing to her next class and almost misses the gossip exchanged between the two younger students. When it sinks in, she stops, almost running into a wall. “The matron got fired!” “What? Are you kidding? Don’t joke with me. I hate her.” “Everyone does. Or did. She can go rot now.” “What happened?” But the two disappear around a corner, leaving Manon shell shocked. Forgetting her class, she runs back to the Slytherin common room, ignoring everyone she passes in the tunnel. She finds Asterin in their room. Her best friend is grinning from ear to ear, a slightly dazed look on her face. “What the hell happened?” Manon asks. “A miracle!” Asterin calls, laughter overtaking her to the point she can barely speak. “A godsdamn miracle!” The Coven quickly join them, coming in one by one as they hear the news. Celebration is replaced by strategy as the teammates begin to discuss changes to their quidditch routines. They are a well oiled machine, so nothing much will be different. But at least they can use their own ideas for plays and techniques. Their door opens to reveal the Headmistress. Glennis Crochan eyes the young witches with a mildly disapproving look. The twinkle in her eyes does not go unnoticed however. She shoos everyone out except Manon. “I take it you’ve heard the news,” the Headmistress says. Manon forces a sober expression on her face. “Yes ma’am.” Professor Crochan sits on the edge of her bed and frowns. “I must apologize for not seeing the truth sooner, Ms. Blackbeak.” Manon feigns ignorance, but not for long. This wise, old witch is no one’s fool, despite mistaking the Matron’s evil tendencies for mere strictness. “She was an exceptional liar. I am so very sorry I believed anything she said,” the headmistress says. “I know,” Manon replies, not sure what else to say. Professor Crochan reaches out and squeezes Manon’s hand. It’s such a motherly gesture that Manon, who has no mother of her own, feels uncomfortable. Like she doesn’t know if she should squeeze back or continue to just sit there. Before she can decide, the headmistress smiles and stands. She offers her ear if Manon ever wants to talk. About anything. And then. before the crone leaves, she says, “By the way, I’ve demoted the Head Boy that the Matron assigned to Slytherin. He has learned too much at her feet. You will take his place. It’s time for some new blood to lead Slytherin.” Manon stands, her mouth agape, her heart racing. “You may say thank you if you’d like,” the headmistress says with a kind smile. “Uhh ... thank you. Ma’am. Headmistress,” Manon sputters, unsure if she is actually grateful. But when she’s left alone, when she thinks about all the things she’d change about Slytherin, she is overcome with hope and excitement. She runs out to find Dorian.

- Dorian is so far behind on his charms homework, not even Yrene’s help will get him through it. Despairing in a hidden corner of the library, he stares blankly at his textbook, not seeing or understanding a single work on the page. His mind is focused on one thing. Or, one person.  At the sound of heavy footfalls, he leans into the aisle to see Manon charging towards him. He’s hesitant, unable to tell if she’s happy or angry. It could go either way. A person might be glad that their abuser was just fired, or they might be upset that someone meddled at all. Just as she reaches him, he stands and holds out his hands in a placating gesture. “I sent an owl to the Education Minister. She is friends with my mother and I thought maybe it would help.” He cringes a little, waiting for her reaction. Manon says nothing, just throws herself against him in a hug that almost sends him toppling backwards. “You’re not upset with me?” he asks, laughing. “Never,” she says. “You used your connections to save me. To save all of us. She was terrible to more people than just me.” They return to their embrace, and he realizes there are others gathering around, watching them. He starts to pull away but she doesn’t let him. “I don’t care anymore,” she says, her breath hot and alive against his skin. “Let them watch. I’ll throw them in detention if they give us any trouble.” Dorian pulls back, an eyebrow raised. “I’m Head Girl of Slytherin now.” She says it just loud enough for the gawkers to hear and immediately disperse. He laughs and promises not to step out of line around her. She makes him take it back. Later, as they separate to head to their respective common rooms, Manon frowns. “I wish I could do this for you. Get your dad off your back somehow.” That she would offer means the world to him, giving him some much needed strength. “Maybe when you become famous you can tell him off for me.” Her nose wrinkles slightly. “And what will I do to become famous?” He kisses the wrinkles. “Replace brooms with dragons in quidditch.” Manon’s eyes lit up, widening first in disbelief and then as she is flooded with ideas. “First, let’s survive Hogwarts,” he says. “We still have to meet each other’s friends. Officially, I mean.” Her brightness fades a little, but she is still smiling as she heads down the stairs to Slytherin, and he climbs up to Gryffindor.

*****

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[panharmonium]

a face like a wounded bear (i’ve just got a few things on my mind, that’s all)

back on my merlin rewatch rambles this week.  i’m finishing up S1 now and just putting down some notes here for myself about 1.11 - specifically, how it ties back to/is informed by 1.10, because this is something that’s been on my mind for a long time.

these got a bit long so feel free to scroll past if this isn’t your cup of tea!

standard disclaimer for people who don’t know me and might stumble across this: i got into this show late and i have not finished season 5.  i am GOING to finish season 5, hence this rewatch.  so far i have remained unspoiled for the end of this show; i super appreciate everybody helping me stay that way.  you have my permission to laugh at me for being ten years late to this show in the first place and also for taking a geological age to finish the last four episodes.  i understand and fully support you in this; in my defense, i have been using the break to write fic, so i hope all can be forgiven in the end X)

with that out of the way, some thoughts!

i. a wounded bear

i really appreciate how much angrier merlin suddenly is at everything once we hit ‘the labyrinth of gedref.’

he’s still trying to help solve arthur’s problems, and he’s still rooting for arthur to succeed, but he’s also snappy and irritable and getting lost staring out windows, and his patience level with arthur in particular is set to absolute zero.  it’s not a catastrophic change - it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like arthur anymore or that he doesn’t still respect arthur for what arthur...could be, and for what he is, at moments; merlin obviously still deeply admires him for caring so much about the people of camelot and he obviously still believes that arthur is noble at heart and worth supporting.  but he’s simultaneously sick and tired of arthur’s particular brand of princely BS, and in this episode it’s starting to show.

before this episode, merlin used to tolerate arthur’s dumbassery with a kind of...willingness to be amused as opposed to annoyed.  arthur would go into his “insult merlin” routine or say something only a rich idiot would say and merlin would just laugh it off, or quip it away, or roll his eyes and get on with his day.  he was kind of…gently entertained by the people he had to serve.  he was having a little adventure right then, you know?  and the nobles, arthur included, were colorful characters in this story he’d walked into.  if they were occasionally insufferable, well, at least they were good for a laugh.

for example, that episode where arthur keeps asking merlin to cover for him so he can go have his little dates with sophia?  merlin winds up in the stocks for it three times in a row, but the first time, he just shrugs it off with his typical cheery equanimity and wryly says, “i forgot how much fun this was!”  and then when arthur asks him to cover for him a second time, merlin is just psyched that arthur is having such a good time with sophia, and he immediately agrees to do it, saying, “don’t worry, i’ll find a way to get you out of it!”  and then he’s back in the stocks, but when he comes out of them, gaius is more annoyed at arthur than merlin is.  and then after arthur runs off to “elope” with sophia, and merlin ends up in the stocks a THIRD time, it’s just the funny zinger at the end of the episode.  he’s not upset about it.  it’s just like, “meh!  here i am again!  classic merlin misadventure, what can you do? :)”

there is no chance that would fly in the back quarter of S1.  none.  zero.

merlin is completely fed up in 1.11.  starting with the hunting party’s slaughter of the unicorn, and then branching out to other, smaller things - every dismissive thing arthur says to him, every time arthur ignores or denies the reality of their situation and tries to pin responsibility for camelot’s misfortune on sorcery rather than his own actions, every time arthur makes stupid comments like ‘merlin you’re less intelligent than a rat’ - in this episode, merlin doesn’t roll with those things.  he snaps back, or raises his voice; he refuses to be talked over, he bites back “i’m THIRSTY” when arthur tells him to stop smacking his lips in the granary.  

in another episode, that stuff might have been delivered in a jokey way - and it will be again, some day in the future, when they’re both back to having fun with it - but merlin’s not having fun with it in 1.11.  he’s giving arthur challenging stares and resentful glares instead of friendly, this-is-just-how-we-tease-each-other looks.  his tone isn’t amused or fondly exasperated, it’s frustrated or irritated or, sometimes, straight-up angry.  

there’s a point in one of their arguments where merlin says he believes what anhora is saying, and arthur’s cold response is, “then you’re a fool.  you cannot trust a single word a sorcerer says.  you’d do well to remember that.”  

and merlin gives him the most baleful glare. like he wants to just...strangle him with his eyes.  like he has so many cutting things just sitting on the tip of his tongue and can’t decide which one he wishes he could say first.

ii. a few things on my mind

this, i think, is where it’s worth remembering that this episode takes place in a larger context than ‘arthur did a dumbass thing at the beginning of the episode and merlin’s upset about it.’  

because merlin definitely is upset about the unicorn, but merlin’s also just upset, full stop, about things that have nothing to do with the unicorn or camelot’s curse or camelot to begin with, and it’s bleeding over into other areas of his life.

to clarify: i don’t think we can really understand merlin’s subtle attitude shift in 1.11 without understanding that 1.11 takes place immediately after 1.10.  

1.11 is one of two S1 episodes whose positions in the timeline we can actually pinpoint relative to their neighbors (the first being 1.02, which is directly stated to take place on merlin’s “first day as arthur’s servant,” aka the day after 1.01).  1.11 likewise can be mapped accurately onto the timeline, because kanen comes thundering into ealdor bellowing “it’s harvest time!” in 1.10, and then in 1.11 camelot is bringing in their harvest, too (literally, gaius yells at the end, “they’re bringing in the harvest!”). 

there’s really not any wiggle room there.  the harvest season is only so many weeks long to begin with, and we know ealdor was pretty far along with their work in 1.10 - we see the evidence of their labor, and if the grain hadn’t already been harvested, kanen’s group wouldn’t have had anything to steal.  ealdor is smaller, so it makes sense for them to finish faster than camelot, but it looks like camelot is just getting started in 1.11, given the state of their grain reserves and the fact that so much grain appears to be unharvested when the blight hits.  and, that being the case, honestly, camelot had to have started like, immediately after 1.10 finished, or even while that arc was still going on.  it’s already pushing the boundaries of disbelief that they wouldn’t have started by the time ealdor has gotten so much done.  there’s no plausible way they could have waited any longer.  harvest season is the same for everyone; it’s not some kind of rotating schedule.  people only have about a month to get it done in the first place.  

so these two episodes occur, at the absolute most, a couple weeks apart from one another, and that’s only by the most generous of estimates; it’s more likely that they’re closer together than that, given the information above.  but honestly, it doesn’t matter whether it’s two weeks or two days - either way, merlin in 1.11 has something going on in his head that’s extremely recent and taking up kind of a lot of his energy.  

i don’t know that this angle gets looked at often, because the understandable tendency is to mostly focus on merlin in relation to arthur, and this becomes especially true in episodes that contain arthur+merlin umm...idk, focus scenes like the one near the end of 1.11.  but this is the angle that’s always on my mind when i watch the end of S1, because if there is one hill i’ve staked out for the digging of my future grave, it’s the following:

merlin’s life does not revolve around arthur pendragon.

this probably qualifies as an unpopular fandom opinion, but it’s something i absolutely refuse to budge on.  

and of course it’s just my own read, obviously; you may have more fun coming at this episode from a different direction, and that’s totally cool!  but for me, my understanding when i’m watching this season - merlin’s life does not revolve around arthur pendragon.  especially not yet, especially not now, when merlin has only known arthur for a few months and he’s just coming back from being with people who have known him (and i mean known him, known everything, known him for real) for something like twenty years.

merlin’s life does NOT revolve around arthur pendragon.  his relationship with arthur, at this point, is not the most important relationship in his life.  arthur is not the best friend he’s ever had.  arthur is barely merlin’s friend at all, right now.  arthur likes him all right, yes, and merlin likes him back, most of the time, but arthur doesn’t even know him, really. 

arthur doesn’t know.

and i love arthur and merlin, like - i’m as down for the mythic, destiny-laden, we-find-each-other-in-every-universe dimension of their dynamic as anybody, and when those two finally have an equal, healthy friendship going on, i’m going to be cheering for them.  but it doesn’t change the fact that merlin had a life before he came to camelot, or the fact that by 1.11 he’s only been in camelot for a few months and doesn’t really know arthur all that well yet.  

you can pick whatever example you want to illustrate this point; there are enough of them to choose from, but one of the clearest is in 1.11, when arthur passes his final test and drinks anhora’s fake poison.  merlin thinks arthur is dead, at that point - he’s pretty well convinced that the poison was real and that arthur has just keeled over dead on the beach - but his reaction to arthur’s ‘death’ is....i don’t want to minimize it, exactly, because merlin's obviously upset about it, but at the same time the level of distress he displays is visibly, objectively different from what we see from him in other contexts.  it looks nothing like his naked grief when will is slipping away from him in 1.10, or his desperation when his mother shows up deathly ill on his doorstep in 1.13.  he doesn’t look at potentiallydead!arthur the same way, or talk to him the same way, or touch him the same way - of course he hustles right over and shakes him to see if he can wake him up, but it is just...you can watch these scenes next to each other and they are just not the same.  it is not the same gentle way he leans over his mother, the way he takes her hand, strokes her forehead, folds gaius’ rabbit’s foot into her fingers.  it is not the same way he cradles will in 1.10, when his fingers are in will’s hair and his hand is just - reflexively rubbing will’s head in a way that is just so...intimate and automatic and brokenly tender like -

of course it’s different with them!  he loves them!  watching them suffer is torture for him, and the idea of losing either of them is devastating to him on a scale i can’t possibly understand.  he’s only ever had two people in his life.  one parent.  one friend.  they were his whole world.

so, yeah, merlin is stressed about arthur’s apparent death.  he’s upset.  he likes arthur, he believes in arthur, he’s appalled that this is happening.  but it’s not a personal grief.  there aren’t any deathbed confessions.  there aren’t any gentle touches.  there aren’t any tears.  his protest to anhora isn’t ‘i love this person and i don’t want them to leave me;’ it’s ‘i was meant to protect him!’  it’s about him failing at his “destiny;” it’s about the fact that someone told him he was born like this for a reason and now he’s failed at the job that gave him a sense of purpose, at the thing that made him feel like having magic was worth all this terrible trouble.  

contrast this to when his mother shows up dying in 1.13, and gaius tries to prevent merlin from saving her by bringing up the importance of merlin’s “destiny.”  on that occasion, merlin’s immediate incredulous retort is, “my destiny?  this is my mother.”  

arthur’s death and merlin’s distress over it all come back to merlin’s unfulfilled destiny, in 1.11.  but merlin couldn’t care less about his destiny when it’s his mother’s life on the line.  my destiny means nothing if i cannot save her.

merlin’s life does not revolve around arthur pendragon.  not here, not now.

[that said - it’s different, of course, later in the series.  merlin’s reaction to arthur’s supposed death in 5.07 isn’t just “oh no i failed!”, it’s also a personal, particular anguish.  they matter to each other, by then.  (though even then i think there’s a lot to be said about the…unhealthy tragedy of merlin giving up on his own wants and needs and worth as a person who exists outside the context of this narrow mandate to protect someone who doesn’t know who merlin really is and wouldn’t love him if he did - but that’s just the situation merlin’s trapped himself in, by that point.  it’s what he’s accepted for himself.  it’s all he thinks he deserves.)]

[that’s a post for another day, though, so.  back to the point.]  

merlin’s life does not revolve around arthur pendragon.  merlin had a life all his own before he came to camelot, and during the last quarter of season 1, every part of it that matters to him is falling apart.

i keep coming back to this, every time i think about this kid.  there’s just no way to overstate the fact that merlin’s world up until this point has always been just two people.  his whole life has been just two people.  his whole life has been just one parent.  his whole life has been just one friend.  

and after 1.10, his one friend is dead.

i think we dramatically underestimate the impact of merlin having half of his world obliterated, just like that.  

that’s not something he gets up and strolls away from.  he can’t roll with that punch.  he carries that for the rest of his life.

you know what i mean?  it would be a disastrous enough thing on its own, without even getting into the fact that it unfolds in a way that is SO complicated and tied up with messy personal history and regret/guilt that it needs to be parsed in an essay of its own (which, yes, i might already have half-written; yes, i have too much extra time on my hands this month.)  we’re also not getting into the fact that like - okay, the sort of grimly positive flip side to only having two significant relationships in your life is that you’ve also never personally experienced any significant bereavement.  you don’t have any extended family to mourn, no friends to lose, et cetera.  so to have your first experience with loss be something so huge, when you’ve had no practice dealing with grief, and to be trapped in a place where you aren’t allowed to discuss it honestly because if you told somebody what it all really meant you’d be executed?  

i’d be in a bad mood, too.

merlin is such a good kid and he tries so hard to have a smile for everyone, but i can’t watch the last quarter of S1 without seeing the strain of this weighing on him.  it affects how he reacts to the situation with gwen’s father in 1.12 (more on that another time), and it absolutely plays into the fact that he spends the season finale racing from one side of the kingdom to the other, desperate to sacrifice his life for someone else’s.

^^ regarding that last bit - i think about that a lot.  merlin tries to die three separate times over the last three episodes of S1, and it’s not that he’s...running around trying to get someone to kill him, exactly, but there’s definitely a very real sense that he’s dumped any interest in self-preservation, at this point, that he doesn’t care what happens to him.  if dying is what it takes to make sure nobody else is taken away from him, then that’s fine.  he will do literally anything to not feel this again.

merlin is trying to process something so big for him and he’s trying, by necessity, to do it alone, because he left his mother behind and came back to camelot where nobody understands that the only person other than his mother who ever loved him just died lying for him.  he is so stressed out in the last three episodes of this season and so desperately unhappy about things he isn’t allowed to even mention, and i just think it’s impossible to evaluate these episodes outside of that particular context.  

“we haven’t done all the things we’re meant to do,” he protests in the finale - and you can feel that aching admission come welling right up out of his soul.  it’s uttered in a new context, yes, but he’s been thinking it for weeks and weeks and weeks already, too late to change anything, too late to buy his friend any more time.  he’s hurting.  and he goes zipping around from life-sacrifice to life-sacrifice in the last three episodes in a desperate attempt to keep himself from hurting more.

iii. i’d never have a friend who could be such an ass

the point of all this is the following: the reason merlin sounds like he’s fed up with arthur in 1.11 is because he is fed up with arthur in 1.11.  he’s fed up with everything.  they all just got home from ealdor somewhere between a couple of days and a couple of weeks ago, and merlin is reeling.  he feels like his head and his heart are still trapped on the other side of the border.  he’s sick of looking at arthur’s arrogant, insensitive, infuriatingly alive face - and i say this while recognizing that, even at the same time, merlin also cares about arthur, and believes in him, and lionizes him; admires him; hero-worships him, even.  these two things can be simultaneously true.  merlin’s relationship with arthur is already so fraught with dissonance (how can you care about someone who thinks people like you are inherently evil?  how can you respect someone who oppresses you?) - and merlin’s always carried two contradictory truths when he navigates their relationship, one in each hand.  and right now it’s just that one hand is holding something too heavy.  he’s not being bitchy, he’s busy - he’s trying to deal with something that is taking up 100% of his mental and emotional energy; he doesn’t have anything left over to accommodate arthur pendragon’s dumbassery. 

and arthur pendragon IS a dumbass; let’s not pretend that he isn’t.  i love him, and he has moments that are so admirable and glorious and shining that they take your breath away, when you can see why gwen says you are going to live to be the man i see inside you; i can see a king that the people will love and be proud to call their sovereign (that speech makes my eyes sting EVERY TIME, it gets me right there) - but arthur is STILL a dumbass.  no question about it.  he has so far to go, still.  he’s dumb in all the generic ‘oblivious rich dude’ ways, and he’s also a jerk in his own specific ‘arrogant arthur pendragon TM’ ways, and merlin at this particular moment doesn’t have the energy to deal with it.  he likes arthur, even at this early stage, despite all the mental gymnastics he has to do in order to like someone who hates magic-users.  but merlin’s closest friend in the world is dead, and arthur is such an asshole sometimes and it’s like - this is what i got in exchange?  this is the trade the universe made?  what the hell makes arthur more deserving of being here than somebody who loved me without being told, without being taught, without needing to be constantly convinced that i should be allowed to exist and be safe and be loved on this earth?

are we really surprised that merlin wants to strangle arthur after that trademark ‘you cannot trust a single word a sorcerer says’ comment?  merlin has enough reasons to resent that on his own behalf, but his own secret isn’t the problem, this time; the problem is that they literally just got home from their little jaunt to ealdor and the only reason arthur even made it back from ealdor in the first place was because (as far as arthur knows) a ‘sorcerer’ died saving his stupid life, and arthur knows that, and still, this is what he has to say?  

and that’s on top of like - back in ealdor before they left, the fact that arthur really felt it was necessary to take time out of his day to come over and reproachfully chastise merlin about not disclosing will’s ‘magic,’ AT WILL’S FUCKING FUNERAL???  “you know how dangerous magic is.  you shouldn’t have kept this from me.”  AT WILL’S FUNERAL?  RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIS BURNING CORPSE?  LIKE????  HELLO????

can you imagine being in this scenario???  and thinking???  yeah this is appropriate.  this is the time.  

how is merlin supposed to respond to that?  when arthur’s like ‘you know how dangerous magic is’ and merlin is just like ????!!  we are AT HIS FUNERAL!!!  we are literally WATCHING HIS BODY BURN!!!!  you know how dangerous magic is FFS THAT ‘MAGIC-USER’ COULDN’T STAND YOU AND HE STILL SAVED YOUR UNGRATEFUL LIFE AND HE’S DEAD BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT AND WE’RE AT HIS FUNERAL OMG IS THIS THE TIME?  IS IT EVER GOING TO BE THE TIME?  SHUT!  UP!

of course merlin wants to kill him.   

so anyway.  i really appreciate merlin’s sudden prickliness in this episode.  it’s subtle enough not to be completely jarring, but it’s still clearly perceptible, and i’m glad for that, because this is something that should be perceptible, given the timeline, but at the same time merlin would never, ever mention what’s really bothering him out loud, because a) the sorcery element and arthur’s involvement in how things went down have made it an absolutely unbroachable, forbidden topic, and b) guilt has wired merlin’s jaw shut.

^^ re: that last thing - it’s a post for another day, and i won’t really get into it now, but suffice to say, once again, that merlin spends the last quarter of season 1 running around trying his absolute hardest to throw his life away for someone, and i just feel like...i think it says something about the kind of pain he is in, and the kind of apology he feels he needs to make.  

he is having a very hard time.  merlin in the back quarter of S1 is feeling very alone and very much like he doesn’t deserve to ever feel better. 

so if he’s a little bitey with arthur’s trademark noble nonsense, i think we can cut him some slack.

[softjeon]

Cheerleader!Jimin x Athlete!Namjoon

— PAIRING; Jimin x Namjoon | — GENRE; fluff  | —  DISCLAIMER; mentioning of blood— Wordcount; 2,4k | — written with @cassiavioletblue​

Jimin carefully smoothed down his new cheerleading uniform. He was very glad that they accepted him immediately after he did one of his old routines. They also didn’t have as much male cheerleaders as they had at his old school, so they were really happy to get him. And yet he would have to get used to the new uniform. It was bright red and white and the shirt he was wearing was a little tight. Maybe he should get a size bigger, just to be sure. 

As he had been looking down on his shirt he almost ran right into one of the basketball players and he could only snap his head up in time before they would have collided.

“Oi, watch it, pretty one!” The basketballer took a hold of his arm and Jimin’s other hand came up automatically, landing on the guys muscular chest. “Wait - I don’t know you!” Exclaimed the guy, as if it was a personal affront to him that he had run into a cheerleader he’s never seen before.

“I am so very sorry, too.” Jimin exclaimed and raised an eyebrow as he looked up the player. Men in sports were always a dangerous species for Jimin. Most of them were too arrogant and for a moment he thought nothing much of the one he stumbled into. That was until their eyes met. His heart stopped for a second, when he opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t utter any words. He had expected anything, but not this level of handsomeness. Jimin had seen a few players before practice and none of them had peaked his interest slightly, but this one. This one… He prayed to whatever deity there was that the man in front of him wasn’t dumb or arrogant, as he crossed his fingers behind his back.

“Who said I was sorry?” Namjoon chuckled. “Who knows when I would have gotten to know you if you didn’t ran into me just now. I’m Namjoon.” He held out his hand which was a little difficult because they were still a little too close together for that “And you are?”

Jimin ignored the little teasing for the fact that he had gotten to know the other’s name so fast and stepped away to shake his hand. “I’m…” He was about to tell Namjoon who he was, when someone jogged beside the taller player, making Jimin let his hand fall. “He, Joon…we’ve got to warm up!” He eyed Jimin from the side, gave him a friendly smile before pulling Namjoon along with him on the field. The other player was much smaller than him, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he jogged back and Jimin squinted his eyes to see the name written on his back.

Namjoon turned as best as he could in Yoongi’s hold, “Bye then, mysterious nameless beauty! I hope we meet again soon?” He tried to make a little bow as if they were in a Shakespearean play but it almost made him stumble into the next bench. He was positive that he would see Jimin soon, definitely at their next game because all the cheerleaders would be there. And he couldn’t wait for it.

Jimin startled, when Namjoon had so bluntly called him ‘beauty’ blushing furiously on the spot and then the boy had the audacity to be so cute and stumble into the bench. Jimin was gone. Cute? Handsome? Clumsy? A little bit of arrogance, but he’d be fine with that. It was kind of hot sometimes. He shook his head at himself, not understanding what has gotten into him as he’d thrown his morals right overboard the moment a handsome man stumbled into his life. Literally. Jimin turned around fast, trying to calm his rapid beating heart and his cheeks from turning even redder as he pressed the back of his hand on his skin, trying to cool it down. He needed to concentrate; he had a lot of training to do to get the choreography right as fast as possible. It would definitely keep his mind off things, Jimin reassured himself.

But it didn’t.

The encounter with the handsome basketball player was stuck on his mind 24/7. Somehow he had found out that he was close friends with the captain, Yoongi. They were always around one another, not even parting ways in the library where Namjoon was mostly studying while the other was asleep. Jimin had tried to be subtle to find out a few things and yet, no one seemed to really know who Namjoon was. Which was making it even harder, for the other’s not to get suspicious of his sudden interest in the tall basketball player. Apparently he didn’t liked parties, was definitely single and didn’t sleep around. And yet, he had lots of confidence, had amazing grades, was doing speeches and enrolling for student counselor the third time in a row. He was everything but arrogant, Jimin had to give him that and his heart only jumped higher. He didn’t go out for fun, but rather stayed inside with his group of friends. And it only intrigued him more.

He was just gone for the clumsy man with the broad chest. And yet, their days seemed to be so different from one another that whenever Namjoon waved him from afar, it was Jimin who got pulled aside and away from him. Training kept him busy and whenever he was done, perfecting the steps it was already dark outside and it was only him left in the gym.

He really wanted to tell him his name.

“Jimin, are you ready?” The voice shook him out of his daydreams and Jimin quickly nodded in a sign that he was and rolled his shoulders back. The game was about to start, and he needed to nail this. Jimin had only a week of perfecting all the choreographies and he wanted to show that he’d do it with absolute ease. But he was nervous. There were many people watching, as it was an important game and for an entirely different reason: Namjoon was on the field and would see him too. Maybe he would get the chance tonight, after the game was over and he could finally tell him his name.

Before the game they always talked about their game plan and then hyped each other up and Namjoon enjoyed it alone. He loved being part of a group that held so closely together, almost like a little family. When he stepped onto the field he was perfectly ready and concentrated - or so he thought. Because when he glanced over to the cheerleaders there was Jimin, stretching his body. He had found out the other’s name pretty quickly, being popular as a basketball player had his advantages and he couldn’t wait to let that beautiful name roll off his tongue when they spoke next time.

Jimin could feel his eyes on him. He just knew that he was watching. It was like fire burning on his back and so he leaned over, making sure to give him a great view before he came up slowly again.

When the music began to play, the dance team was cheering as they ran onto the field to give the audience a great welcome and hype everyone up. Jimin was fully in his element, smiling and showing off his flexibility while he was dancing. Nothing else mattered in this moment when he was dancing and Jimin was living it his all, ending the dance with him pulling up his shirt and a wink towards the audience.

Namjoon’s mouth went dry when Jimin showed off like that and suddenly it was hard to swallow. The younger was lean but when he pulled up his shirt a little Namjoon could see how defined he was. He must be really into this sport or really careful what he put in his body. Immediately his thoughts wandered off, contemplating what else Jimin would ‘put in his body’. He wasn’t quite sure yet if the other was interested in boys, but he really really hoped that he hadn’t misinterpreted the others looks last time they spoke and that Jimin really had been flirting and hadn’t just been really friendly towards him. 

“C’mon focus, Joon. You can drool over the new kid whenever we won this game.” Yoongi pushed him onto the field, knowing it would shake Namjoon out of his thoughts as he stumbled after him.

It was an important game and a make it or break it situation. But they were good; and the other team stood absolutely no chance. They were up by a few points, playing them perfectly and yet, Namjoon couldn’t help but let his attention slip over to the young man a bunch of a times as he jumped and cheered for his team. It made him eager to be even better and to show off. And Jimin liked it. He was biting his lip, when he noticed the glances, his heart beating with excitement.

When the final minute hit the clock, the audience was on their feet, screaming and drumming their feet to motivate the teams. Jimin and his team were doing a little routine on the side, making sure to keep the audience as energetic as it was right now.

That routine included Jimin doing the splits at one point and Namjoon, who was sneaking glances every now and then when he thought that no one saw was totally transfixed. how could someone be so flexible? And where exactly did he put everything when he was sitting with his legs out like….

He heard the yelling of his teammates too late, but just in time to turn his head a little so the ball hit him full in the face. Luckily (for his pride) he didn’t fall but he stumbled, and he could feel immediately that his nose had started bleeding. 

“Fuck!” The curse only made it worse because now he had also blood in his mouth. He was glad when the game was stopped, and someone helped him to the sideline even though his cheeks were flaming hot from embarrassment. His team would never let him live this down. And even though his nose wasn’t broken it still hurt a lot. “Can someone please help our hero here so that he doesn’t bleed all over his shirt?”

“Oh my god,” Jimin could hear the girls around him screaming in utter shock, when he saw Yoongi passing the ball to his teammate who wasn’t looking at all. He had whipped around and he was up on his feet in a matter of seconds, when he saw who had been hurt. He didn’t care as he pushed away someone to get closer. “Get me some fucking ice,” Jimin called out pointing at the waterboy as he hovered over Namjoon, taking a tissue that someone held out for him. “Are you okay? Does it hurt? Do you feel like it’s broken?” Without thinking about it, Jimin soothed over Namjoon’s hair and cupped his cheeks. “Here, just try and breathe, okay? The med staff will be here in a second. How did that even happen?” Jimin couldn’t help but chuckle, making sure that Namjoon was  keeping his shirt blood-free as best as he could.

Namjoon blinked. 

That wasn’t how he had expected their next little chat to be. He had tried to impress the other - who must now think he was a total doofus. “No, it’s not broken. I’m.. I’m fine. I was just… distracted.” 

‘By you’ was what he quickly swallowed down. 

“Boys, can you please get in the medic room? Here’s some ice, don’t mind if it smells a little like soda, it’s the best I could find in a hurry.” Their teacher gave them smile that wasn’t quite right and Namjoon understood. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ll get myself cleaned up and then I can come right back.”

“Yeah sure.” Jimin rolled his eyes but was happy when the medics took over and helped Namjoon backstage and into the medic room to do a quick check up. Jimin didn’t leave his side, keeping in the back as they took care of his nose, making sure it wasn’t broken. “All good,” They nodded towards the athlete and then at Jimin, before leaving again. 

“Here, drink a little. Don’t worry about the game, Namjoon. You’ve already won. They can’t get enough points to beat you anyways. It’s just a few minutes left. I’ll stay here with you if you want and keep you company. They can do the last choreography without me.” He held out a bottle of water for Namjoon to take, before pointing at his shirt. “Do you want me to try and get the blood out?”

“Oh, uhm, yes, that.. would be nice.” He swiftly slipped out of his shirt, holding ti awkwardly in his hands. “You don’t.. have to do this you know. I mean, I’m glad you’re here but.. I don’t want you to miss your dance. I don’t think any of the other boys can do the split like you.”

Jimin hadn’t thought much ahead but wanting to help Namjoon somehow when it dawned on him the minute he pulled his shirt over his head that he would need to be shirtless for him to clean out the blood. He stood there frozen, eyes glued on Namjoon’s abs for awfully long seconds, before finally snapping out of it. 

“D-don’t worry,” His eyes flickered down again as he grabbed the shirt and put it aside, before grabbing a tissue and wetting it with lukewarm water. There was still blood smeared on his face although the bleeding had stopped. “Sit down, please.” Jimin said softly as he stepped in between Namjoon’s legs (trying not to think about that fact) and carefully dabbed at his skin. “So…you saw my split?” Jimin raised an eyebrow at Namjoon (before his eyes flickered down to his chest again – seriously, how the fuck does someone have such a sculpted chest? It wasn’t fair. It. Was. Just. Not. fair.).

“Yeah, it’s.. I mean.. if I’m honest it was the reason why the ball hit me. You can be pretty distracting.” He chuckled when the other’s eyes widened. “And I really, really hope I don’t make more of a fool of myself right now but if the way you just looked at me indicates anything then… you might be interested as well? So if that’s settled how about we go out and check if there’s more than just physical attraction between us. You know with you being new I could show you the hot spots - or the places no one else goes to so that we have some privacy. Your choice. If… you want to, that is.” He awkwardly avoided to smile at him because he was pretty sure there was still blood in this teeth.

“You’re pretty forward, huh?” Jimin giggled, feeling his cheeks blush under the attention. But he liked it too much already to say no. “If you can guess my name, then I’ll be yours.” He leaned in a little to tease Namjoon, wiping over his cheek with the tissue to get rid of the last bit of blood.

“Oh, no, I’m just thinking about my team - and myself. I’m pretty sure Yoongi will murder me if I let myself get distracted like that by a pretty cheerleader again. So, you’re doing a good deed and preventing murder you see?” He joked, making Jimin raise his eyebrow at him, wondering if his head had gotten any injury as well. Happiness flared up inside of him that felt even better than winning his game. “Oh, that’s a difficult one!” Namjoon grinned, wondering if Jimin had an idea that he had found out his name already or if he would really let him guess.

“But fate is in my favor today I guess, or maybe it’s the god of basketball who is pleased by the bloody tribute I just offered him, because there’s a tiny little voice who tells me that there’s only one name you could be called…” He waited a little too up the tension and could see Jimin holding his breath. 

“I’m glad I got hit by that ball, today, because it means we’ll go on a date now, Jimin.”

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot: One More

Intro: How much meaning can two words actually carry?

Warnings: Language! Smut (NSFW) No under 18s

Pairings: Steve Rogers and Katie Stark (Rogers)

A/N: So this was a little idea that came to me when a friend and I were drunkenly discussing how many things you could cover simply with the words “one more.” So, here we have it in a few different contexts…and one big one! And this edit, well, if doesn’t melt your heart then you don’t have one! Thanks @angrybirdcr​

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

WARNING: If you are reading Stark Spangled Banner for the first time as it is being reposted and have not yet read it through then this contains MAJOR SPOILERS!!!!!

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 April 2026.

“James Anthony Samuel Rogers I swear to God you push your sister like that again and there’s no Baseball or Soccer practice for a month!” Steve glared at his son as he picked his 23 month old daughter up from the floor.

“She started it!” the 6 year old met his glare straight back.

“One more excuse, try me!” Steve glared at him, and he should have known better when all was considered as true to form his son took his words as a challenge.

“She smashed up my lego house!”

“Yeah, and you used to smash up our actual house when you were her age.” Steve pointed at him as Aurora buried her face into the crook of his neck, sobbing loudly. Steve gently shushed her as he looked down at Jamie “you’re bigger and stronger than she is, you don’t push her or hurt her in anyway, you got that? If she’s annoying you, you come find me or your ma.” Jamie looked up at his dad for a second, before he looked down, his wrong behaviour understood “Sorry Dad.” “It’s not me you should be apologising to.” Steve said, his voice softening slightly.

Jamie looked up, his blue eyes full of tears and Steve’s heart sank. He hated seeing his kids like this but he knew he had to tell them off when they misbehaved.

“Sorry Rori.” Jamie sniffed.

Rori turned her head to face him leaving a stream of snot and drool hanging from Steve’s shoulder as she eyed up her brother.

“MkayJay…” she sniffed and she leaned forward holding her arms out to him. Steve dropped her to the floor and she toddled across to his open arms and gave her elder brother a hug. Steve smiled as he watched them, despite the fact she bugged the crap out of him Jamie would do anything for his baby sister. Steve knew that.

He also knew that it was only fair Rori got chastised for her part in the argument. So he crouched down in front of them both and he looked at her.

“Aurora, you don’t touch Jamie’s toys unless he says you can ok?” he said to her, firmly but not angrily “You have enough of your own to play with.”

Or destroy as the case may be Her big green eyes, so like her mothers looked back and him and she nodded, looking down at the carpet, suitably chastised, her voice quiet “ok daddy” “Good girl.” He smiled, brushing her brunette hair off her face. When she looked back he was pleased to see both of them were smiling again. Crisis averted, discipline delivered… “Cookie?” Rori asked hopefully and Steve sighed. He and Katie had been hoping that she would have slightly less of an appetite than her brother but no. The serum was as much a part of her as it was him. He glanced at his watch and seeing it was almost 4:30 pm he knew Katie would be home any time and he had just started their dinner before world war 3 had broken out in the living room. So as far as cookies went he really shouldn’t… “One.” He relented “but you better eat your dinner. And don’t tell momma.” He held out his hand. Aurora slipped her small palm into his and they headed into the kitchen, Jamie following.

There were no more tantrums or arguments that evening, just a small plea from Jamie as he tried desperately  to avoid going to bed at his 9pm weekend curfew      “Just one more please Momma and then I’ll go to bed I swear” he said from his spot sat in between Katie’s legs in front of her on the piano��stool. Katie sighed and looked at Steve who leaned in the doorway of the smaller lounge at the back of the house and cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows before he shrugged. “One more…” she relented and Jamie clapped his hands as she placed her fingers onto the keys of the piano in front of her, Jamie lying his hands on the top of his mom’s. He wasn’t interested in learning to play, not really. Baseball and soccer were his things, but he enjoyed this, the alone time with his momma and dad that the two parents tried to ensure each of their younger kids got fairly (Emmy being far too old for any of that ‘mushy shit’ now) Katie’s hands flew over the keys and her soft voice gently filled the room as she sang, Jamie joining in after giving her a little grin when he recognised what she was playing. “I wanna be where the people are I wanna see Wanna see ‘em dancing Walking around on those…”

She stopped playing and looked down at Jamie playfully “What do you call ‘em?” “Feet!” Jamie said, holding his leg up. Steve let out a soft smile at the display of playfulness and affection between his wife and son as Katie laughed and carried on with the song. Eventually they finished and without protest Jamie turned to his mom and placed his arms round her neck. “Night Momma. I love you.” “Love you too baby boy. I’ll be up soon to tuck you in when you’ve finished your story ok?” He jumped down from the bench and headed over to his dad who gently guided him out of the room with a large, gentle hand on the back of his head. As he turned to go he cast a look over his shoulder as Katie stood up, closing the lid on the American Walnut finished Bösendorfer 155 baby grand piano he had bought her for her 40th. She turned to face him, and shyly smiled in the same way she always did when she caught him looking at her the way he was right then, the expression on his face soft, conveying just how much he loved her and it still knocked her off her feet. “You’re beautiful.” He said softly as she brushed past him in the doorway. “Charmer” she smiled as he captured her lips in a soft kiss before giving her ass a friendly squeeze with both his palms before he headed off after Jamie for their usual bed time stories. A father-son routine that Steve hoped Jamie wasn’t gonna grow out of any time soon.

A story about 1920s Gangsters later Steve bid Jamie goodnight and strode over the landing to Rori’s bed room. He picked up the stuffed bear that had fallen out of her toddler bed and, tucking it in next to her, he straightened the covers around his daughter’s chin and dropped a kiss to her head.  “Sweet dreams Princess” he said, standing up and turning off the lamp, flicking the pony night light on. “You know when they’re in bed I actually understand why we had them.” He chuckled gently as he entered the kitchen where Katie was unloading the dishwasher. Katie laughed softly  “They’re good kids really.” “I know.” Steve’s arms circled her waist “What time is Emmy back?” “You told her midnight…so probably about 5 past.” she grinned. “She text me before, she’s fine. Pete took her to a burger joint and they were just about to go into the movies…” “Better not be on the back row” Steve grumbled. “She’s 18 Steve.” Katie laughed before she sighed. “They’re all growing up so fast” “You not fancy one more?” He asked, his nose brushing against her jaw. Katie stilled and turned her head to face him. “I’m 42, still carrying extra pounds from Rori. And trust me when I say after her birth, I have no desire to push a baby out of my vagina ever again” Steve laughed loudly, his head tipping back as he did so. “Just a thought” he said, kissing the side of her neck before he straightened up. “You fancy a glass of wine?” “Getting me drunk will not make me agree to having another baby…” Katie sly eyed him as he opened the wine chiller and pulled out a bottle of Sancerre. Steve rolled his eyes “That’s not what I was trying to do… I thought seeing as they’re asleep, its Friday…we could sit outside by the fire pit and take some us time. Maybe I can make some loving on my baby momma.” She smiled and slipped her arms round his waist, standing on her tip toes to give him a kiss. “Sounds perfect daddy, let me just go tuck Jamie in and I’ll be with you.” *****

June 2026

Steve looked at his wife, simply smiling as she talked. It wasn’t often they got out like they had done before the kids, but tonight they were out for a meal and a few drinks for her birthday. She looked stunning. Her hair was curled loosely, hanging to one side over her right shoulder, her eyes were highlighted even more by the light brown shimmer that sat on her lids and her lips were plump and glossed with a soft, almost neutral pink. It reminded him a lot of how she had looked on her first date. Similar, but yet slightly different. A bit like them really. They weren’t radically different but everything they had been through, seen, done, becoming parents…it had made them evolve in a way but Steve’s heart still burst with pride and lust and love whenever he looked at the woman sat in front of him. Yes she had changed physically over the years. Taught lines of muscle had given way to softer curves over her stomach and thighs, her hips were bigger- not much- but it only served to emphasise her small waist even more. The curve of her ass was more pronounced as was her chest, both of which Steve was more than happy about, especially tonight as they were emphasised even more by the tight black cut off capris she was wearing, low cut shimmering gold top and high heels that made her shapely legs look even more toned. And right now he was imagining them hooked around his shoulders… “Are you even listening to me?” She sat back, glass of crisp white wine in her hand, a teasing smile on her face. He looked beyond gorgeous. Short, dark beard flecked with grey, strands of his short hair also Iightening slightly. His black long sleeved sweater which although loose did nothing to hide his still ridiculously toned physique underneath. He was deep in thought, but relaxed, she could see that from the way he sat. His elbow was leaning on the table, chin resting gently in his hand, his fore and middle fingers making an L shape against his cheek as his thumb gently brushed against the beard underneath his chin. She raised her eyebrows silently requesting an answer and he took a deep breath, and cocked his head slightly more to the left, eyes crinkling even further as he suppressed a chuckle because he had been caught, red handed.  “Sorry baby I was just thinking.” “You were miles away.” She said softly, leaving forward “what’s going on Soldier” He loved how she still called him that. And right then it made him want to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless. He squirmed slightly and picked up his wine glass, leaving back in his chair “Just thinking about you, how lucky I am…how gorgeous you are…” his voice dropped as he arched an eyebrow “and the things I’m intending on doing to you tonight.” They headed to a bar and bumped into Marcus and his brother, Allan, two of the guys who had religiously attended Steve’s support groups pre and post snap. Marcus gleefully told then that his wife, one of the returned, was expecting their first baby, news which both Katie and Steve had greeted with congratulations and a bottle of Don Perignon As they chatted and laughed with their friends, Katie was very aware of how tactile Steve was being. A hand on her back, skimming her ass every now and then, squeezing her hip, soft kisses to her temple and cheek.. it was all driving her wild so after an hour or so in the bar, when he asked if she was ready for home she greeted him with an affirmative nod. He held out her jacket for her, hands skimming the bare skin on her shoulders making her shiver. They bid their friends goodbye and headed out, hand in hand to hail a cab. Katie stole a glance at her husband, the father of her children and a fire lit in her belly. She had never loved anyone as much as she loves him. He wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. But they accepted each others faults as much as they loved each others better traits. He was an affectionate and loving man, both with her and their kids. Firm but fair and never shied away from lavishing affection on any of them. And then, in the dimly lit back seat if that yellow New York cab as it headed over Brooklyn Bridge something stirred in both her heart and her mind. She leaned over to him and gently nuzzled her nose into his neck, breathing in his aftershave. He gave an involuntary shiver and moved his arm around her shoulder as her nose now moved over the short whiskers that adorned his jaw and cheeks up to his ear where she whispered. “One more…” He turned to her, his eyes shining as he looked at her, smiling softly. “You sure?” He asked, barely able to believe it. She placed a soft kiss to his lips and whispered into his mouth. “Yeah, I’m sure.” It was all Steve could do to keep himself from jumping her there and then but somehow his will power held out. Once home, Emmy had simply raised her eyebrows when they had popped their heads into the lounge and told her and Peter not to stay up to late, and then rolled her eyes when Steve had pointedly told Peter the spare room was the 1st door on the right after you climbed the stairs. Closing the door to the lounge, Steve slung his wife over his shoulder causing her to giggle as he carried her upstairs, dropping her gently on her feet in the bedroom when she exclaimed she needed to pee. Steve shrugged off his sweater and was midway into undoing his trousers when she emerged from the bathroom, her pants in her hand, leaving her clad in just that delectable top and underwear. He felt his cock twitch at the sight of her almost naked ass and long legs. As she walked past, heading to the laundry basket in the corner of the room,  Steve looped both arms round her waist and pulled her discarded clothes from her hands, dropping them to the floor. He tugged her back into him, his hands gripping the hem of her top before he pulled it over her head, hands setting on her hips as she rolled her head back against his shoulder so he could lightly graze her skin with his lips.  Her hands gently moved between them as she undid the clasp on her bra and Steve slid the straps down, placing soft kisses to each of her shoulders causing her to shudder as he tossed that to the floor too. His palms flattened on her stomach as her arms slid up and connected round the back of his neck, pushing her chest up and he gave moan as he glanced down and saw her presented to him. One of his large hands crept into the front of her lace briefs, the other up to her chest, gently tweaking and playing with her as he saw fit, lips skating over her neck. “So beautiful…” he whispered and she moaned and writhed in delight at his praise and his actions as he worked her over “such a good girl for me…” Her head fell back even further into him as she let out a soft whimper of his name, his hands upping their pace slightly as she began to buck into his touch. She arched her back, her mouth fell open and then her head rolled forward as she came, knees trembling, her hands pulling at his hair. He held her up in his strong arms and whilst she was still in the after throws of bliss he nipped at her neck, drawing a soft groan from her mouth. “Gonna fuck a baby into you…” he said, lips hot on her ear “fill you up, see you all round with my child again…that what you want?” “Please…” she sighed, “Please put a baby in me, Daddy…”   His hands fell to her hips and he spun her round, lips crashing to hers almost bruisingly before he walked her backwards, her knees colliding with the bed as she fell back wards, Steve crawling over the top of her. His lips skated down from her mouth, to her neck, between the valley of her breasts and to her naval where his nose skimmed across the waistband of her panties. He hooked his fingers into the top and slid them down over her thighs, a hot kiss dropping to her ankle. His beard scratched her soft skin as he nipped his way up her leg, before setting his mouth to her. He licked, sucked, bit as she keened into him, her hands tangling into his hair as she writhed and groaned, trying but failing to keep her noise down. It wasn’t long before he’d gotten her there again and as she fell back, panting slightly he crawled over her, ridding himself of the remainder of his clothes as he did so. His hands placed either side of her head, he dropped his mouth to her ear and kissed just underneath before he whispered “I know you got one more in you baby…” as he pushed into her, the pair of them groaning at the sensation.

And she did. As he thrust into her powerfully, her hands skated up his arms to hi back, nails dragging down his skin. It was an assault on her senses, and as he continued to love her in a way only he could, the heat was rising again and she found herself teetering on the edge.

“That’s my girl…” Steve panted out as she arched her back and came again, this one leaving her utterly shattered. Steve wasn’t far behind her, releasing inside of her before they both collapsed, utterly boneless and melted completely into the bed beneath them. Her hands gently tangled into his hair and he lazily picked his head up and gave her a soft kiss, his nose rubbing up against hers.

“I love you baby girl.” he said softly, lips pressing against hers.

“Love you too…” she whispered into his mouth.

***** February 2027 Katie glanced down at the small, white stick in her hands. She inhaled sharply as she glanced at the result and tears filled her eyes as she stood up from the toilet where she had been sat on the lid, waiting for those precious last few seconds to pass.

Her mind strayed to the conversation they had held on Christmas eve little over 6 weeks prior…

“You know… it’s kind of ironic” Katie sighed as she nestled into Steve further, her head on his chest as the arm round her gently traced shaped on her side, under her jumper. “What is?” He asked, although he had a feeling he knew what was wrong. She sat up and looked at him, her eyes sad. “We’ve been trying for our little one more ow for 6 months. Doing everything right and…” she took a deep breath “maybe I just can’t anymore. I’m sorry Steve” “Hey.” He frowned, shifting so he was looking at her as she blinked, trying to stop the tears from falling “You have nothing to apologise for.” “I just know how much you wanted this and…” “Stop.” He said almost sternly as he gently cupped her face in his hands “we already have 3 beautiful kids. I don’t want you feeling like this” He hated it. Hated the fact he felt like he had backed her into this in a way. She was feeling inadequate and she was anything but. “I wish you’d told me you felt like this sooner.” He said softly, and she shrugged as he pulled her face to meet his in a soft, tender kiss. “One more try.” He rest his forehead against hers, his decision made “One more month and we forget it. I’m not having you feeling like this anymore baby. I love you too much to see you hurting ok?” She nodded and smiled gently, her hand reaching up and her fingers gently scratching through his beard. He closed his eyes and then her lips were on his, pulling him down on top of her on the couch, the movie on the tv completely forgotten as they lost themselves in each other again, moans and sighs filling the softly lit room.   No more tries. “Honey?’ Steve called later that evening, his keys dropping to the table in the hall as he greeted their now, very elderly dog, before he headed into the kitchen. She was sat at the table, eating dinner in between watching Aurora feed herself. Jamie was tucking into his food with gusto as both kids beamed at their daddy who greeted them both in turn. “Hi.” Katie smiled softly at him, taking the kiss he offered on her cheek “dinner is in the oven” “Sorry I’m late.” He said “ the faculty meeting went on a bit longer than I thought and then we got caught discussing the next semester…” “Steve it’s fine.” She assured him, taking a drink of her soda, eyes still on her fiercely independent daughter who probably had more spaghetti round her face than in her stomach. “How was your day son?” He asked once he had grabbed his plate and settled into the seat next to him at the oak table. “Ok.” Jamie shrugged. “Ok?” Katie looked at him “more than ok sweetie, tell your dad what you got in class!” “Oh I got the class weekly gold star for my art” he said, excitement flooding his tone. “No way!” Steve beamed at him, he loved the fact his son had inherited his talent “for the sketch you did of the planets?” Jamie nodded as he smiled. “Proud of you buddy” he said, ruffling his hair as Jamie’s grin at his fathers praise practically split his face in half. A few hours later both kids were in bed, they’d skyped Emmy who was just getting ready to go to a party in one of the dorms, something Steve wasn’t feeling all too comfortable about, and were heading up to bed. Steve was just about to make his way into the bathroom for a shower when Katie stopped him. “I have something to tell you.” She said softly before she opened the drawer at the side of her bed and with a sigh she pulled out the test. Steve felt his heart sink as she turned around and held it out to him. “Baby don’t be upset.” He said softly, as he took it, giving it a cursory glance “we agreed that if it didnt…” He trailed off and looked again. 2 blue lines. 2. “Oh my…shit.. Katie…” he looked up at her, his face shocked before he gave out a splitter of a laugh and grabbed her hips, swinging her up in the air. She laughed as he set her in her feet, giving her a soft kiss “You sure?” He asked, wanting to believe it but not daring to at the same time “Maybe you should do one more to be sure?” With a smirk she turned and reached into the drawer and began to toss test after test on the bed. 10 in total, including the one still in Steve’s hand. “Way ahead of you there soldier” “You’re incredible…” he said, tossing the plastic stick onto the bed and pulling her closer “My fucking incredible…” kiss “amazing…” kiss “ gorgeous” kiss “baby momma…” This time when his lips met hers she wrapped her arms round his neck and held him in place whilst she kissed him hard, deep, passionate before she pulled away, her fingers felt tracing his t-shirt clad chest “you mentioned something about a shower…” Grinning his hands slid under her ass and she laughed as he hauled her up, legs wrapping round his waist as he walked them into the en-suite.

***** May 2027 Steve woke first that morning. Gently pressing a kiss to Katie’s cheek he left her asleep, climbing out of the bed and heading into the bathroom. Once he’d seen to his bladder, he pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and headed out onto the landing.

He poked his head into Jamie’s room first, and his son grinned at him as he turned his eyes from the TV onto his father. Lucky jumped down from is spot on Jamie’s bed and headed over to Steve for an ear scratch.

“Morning buddy.” Steve looked at his son.

“Morning dad…you making breakfast?” Food, as always the first thing on his mind.

Steve nodded and Jamie scrambled out of bed, following him as he next headed to Rori’s room. She was still asleep so he left her to it. Finally he knocked on Emmy’s door and she told him to come in.

“Hey…” he frowned as he saw her on her bed, surrounded by text books “its early Sunday…you got work to do?”

“Studying.” She grumbled.

“Ok well, take a break yeah? I’m gonna start breakfast”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” She hummed at him and he nodded, closing the door.

Steve opened the back door to let Lucky out whilst Jamie sat at the table with a yawn as Steve set the coffee going and poured Jamie an orange juice.

“Thank you.” He said as he set it down in front of him “Dad?”

“Yeah pal?”

“What was Momma asking you for one more of last night?”

Oh…fuck…

Steve felt himself go bright red, as he could clearly remember exactly what Katie had been begging him for more of.

“Erm…” he turned away, cursing inwardly as he glanced around desperately trying to think of an answer Jamie would buy. “I…er….” he reached into the cupboard for the bread, and then the answer suddenly hit him in the face

“Chocolate!” He practically exploded as his eyes fell on the jar of spread.

“Chocolate?” Jamie cocked his head to one side as Steve turned to face him. “In the middle of the night?”

“Yeah well, you know the baby makes her want it…like you made your mom want peanut butter and Rori made her want strawberries, this time she wants chocolate”

“Oh.” He said, nodding “Ok. Did you give her some?”

Steve was thankful that his son couldn’t see his face as he threw 4 slices of bread in the toaster. Pressing his lips together to try and stop the smirk on his face, because he had indeed given her some, so to speak, before he turned and nodded.

“Yup.” He said “Sure did…”

August 2027 “One more baby.” Steve urged, his wife’s hand tightly gripping his right, his left brushing her hair back off her face “One more honey, you got this.” With a loud yell and a final, almighty effort she sagged back on the bed as a piercing cry hit their ears. “You did it…” Steve said, his eyes welling up “I’m so proud of you, Darlin’, you did it…” She laughed through her tears as their baby was placed on her chest, cries giving way to soft wimpers which turned into those familiar nickering noises babies make as their newest addition pressed into his momma, pink and wrinkled, brown hair spattering his head, his eyes the same shape and colour as his fathers, but the Stark nose stood out clearly, just as it did with Jamie. Their little one more, Henry Steven Rogers, Harry for short, opened his eyes for the first time to reveal a shock of baby blue and Steve felt his heart swell even more. Out of all their kids he had been the easiest to name. Henry chosen by Steve, Steven picked by Katie, Harry agreed upon by both. There was no 3rd name. They didn’t have one they liked or felt drawn to and besides, in Katie’s eyes he didn’t need one, because his fathers was worth two. Something which had made Steve’s eyes fill with emotion when she had told him that. Harry was measured, weighed and returned to his father wrapped in a soft blue blanket as Steve preened over his latest progeny, another male to carry the Rogers name down the line. Eventually he began to fuss and was handed to his mother for his first feed, Steve settling in their bed, arm round Katie as he watched his son’s cheeks work hungrily. “I love you” he said gently, tilting Katie’s face round to his, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you too..” she smiled before they both looked down at their baby as he suckled on his mothers breast, tiny hand shaped in a fist which rest against her exposed skin. Steve gently traced his youngest son’s cheek with his finger, his chest felt like it was going to explode with emotion. After a few hours of being on their own with their baby boy, Katie having been cleaned up and Harry settled and changed and fed again, the peace of their hospital room was shattered. “There really should only be 4 visitors…” Steve heard the nurse say as the door hovered open a few inches. “Oh come on, what’s one more?” Sam’s voice pleaded. She must have acquiesced as the door opened further and their eldest and second eldest shot into the room, followed by Sam and Buck with their now second youngest held on his hip. “Oh Mom!” Emmy gushed, her large brown eyes shining as she looked down at her baby brother in her mothers arms whilst the men were exchanging back slaps and hugs “he’s beautiful” “Course he is” Steve replied, taking Rori and walking her to the bed so she could look at her baby brother “Your mom made him” Katie smiled up at Steve “You had something to do with it…” “The enjoyable bit.” We winked as Emmie moaned

“Gross..” Jamie climbed up onto the bed, his mum gently pushing down the blanket so he could see Harry’s face clearly. The sun was peeking through the blinds, the room was loud and crowded as their older kids aged 19, 7 and 3, and their friends- their brothers- took turns to hold and meet the newest addition to the Rogers family. Steve dropped a kiss to Katie’s head, the pair of them sharing a deliriously happy look.

“Thank you.” Steve said, resting his head against hers. “Thank you for this one more and for making me the happiest man alive”

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (121/?)

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.

[22 May, 233 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

"Personal log, Dr. Topsas recording. Now then, where to begin...? I am still aboard the Emerald Eye in Federation territory. Luffa is long overdue to return for medical attention. What began as a supposedly 'quick' excursion to the Fedender System mutated into a tour across multiple planets that put my patient on the other end of Federation space. Luffa being Luffa, she has taken it upon herself to fight every battle on every planet along her way back to us. I have received some reports from hospitals in the field, and I am bracing myself for the worst.

"During Luffa's absence, I have stocked her star-yacht with medical-stasis fluid, and a healthy supply of regenerative medications. In the worst-case scenario, I will only have to keep her in stasis for two weeks, but I am constantly reminded of the old saying: "If you wish to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." No doubt, His Nine Eyes watch with great amusement as I prepare for Luffa's arrival, as I boldly tell myself that I have everything I need. Though, at the moment, I suspect there are a great many generals and warriors with haughty plans of their own, each producing their own fair share of divine laughter.

"Now that is a dark thought, that a benevolent God should find war to be humorous. I should really find something happier to dwell on in times likes these. Then again, it is my personal log, and I suppose I shouldn't run from a chance to express these kinds of feelings. Very well then. Let us talk about the war.

"I am hardly a military strategist, but it is my opinion that it goes poorly for the Federation. I would not consider any war to go well, but moral objections aside, this conflict seems specially designed to erode the morale of both sides.

"I know little of the so-called 'Jindan cult.' I have been told that Luffa's arch-nemesis, the Saiyan King Rehval III, founded the cult as a way to strengthen his hold over the Saiyan people. Using his arcane skills as an alchemist, along with the pseudonym "Trismegistus", he created a secret method to make Saiyans even stronger than they already are. This worked wonders for his cause, as Saiyans who would never serve a king were all too eager to trade their freedom for power. Now, he sends his followers into Federation space, launching senseless attacks on otherwise peaceful planets. His motives are unclear, though it certainly seems to be a continuation of his grudge against Luffa. As a Super Saiyan, she poses the greatest threat to his dominion over their species.

"What I have heard of these cultists is truly horrifying. Many are cynical warriors who only serve the cult for their own ends. Even so, they fear their master as though he holds their lives in his hands. I suppose that he truly does hold their lives in his hands, for Rehval has the power to withdraw the added strength he gives to his followers. At the slightest sign of defiance, he can drain their power, leaving then weaker than they were to begin with. In some cases, this process can be fatal, as Luffa discovered when Jolok was 'excommunicated' on Planet Quadzityz. Jolok perished, and a sizable piece of the planet very nearly shared his fate.

"The cultists who remain in Rehval's favor do so in a state of constant terror. Some have learned to mask their despair with religious zeal, while others rely on denial. All of them are experienced enough in the ways of war to know their true role in this conflict. They are not holy crusaders serving a higher purpose, as many of them claim. They are merely cannon fodder, a light brigade being sent to die as a mere diversion. Theirs is a simple choice: Die in service to their master, or die in defiance of him.

"I call them a light brigade because every battle fought in this war has resulted in a complete annihilation of Jindan forces. A one hundred percent casualty rate is unthinkable. Even the maddest of tyrants would blanche at such a statistic. It clearly is not sustainable, and yet Rehval continues to send his warriors, confident that he is safe from counterattack in his secret base.

"On the Federation side, a string of impressive victories carries little hope, for each battle leaves considerable death and destruction in its wake. Luffa and the Federation's other defenders have managed to halt the invaders at every turn, but they still manage to kill thousands, destroy important cities and military outposts, and cause ecological damage with their attacks. I think what frustrates the Federation in this hour is that they have no way to take the initiative in this war. They must simply wait for Rehval's forces to reveal themselves, and then absorb whatever losses they must until they can deploy their forces to fight off the invaders. Luffa's health is simply one facet of the bigger picture.

"Perhaps things will change if Luffa can find Rehval himself, but I have little confidence in this. She has already been searching in vain since-- eh?"

"Doctor! Come quickly!"

"What is it? I-- Ninth Eye!"

"Everything happened so fast that we didn't have a chance to fill you in."

"I should imagine. The rendezvous with the transport wasn't supposed to be for another twenty minutes."

"They got a distress call. Luffa convinced them to put her in an escape pod and drop her off so they could answer it. When I got the message, I pushed the engines as hard as they could go."

"Hey, I'm fine... really."

"Shut up, Luffa, and get on the bed."

"Okay, okay. Pushy lady. I guess that's why I married you. Hey, Doc. Sorry I keep... keep missing appointments."

"Please lie still. Would you hold that for me, Ms. Zatte? Please do calm down."

"I just... there's so much blood..."

"Yes, reopening old wounds, no doubt. I thought you were going to stay out of trouble, little mammal."

"So did I, Doc, but there was... was... an attack on Zerkus III and my transport was the only ship in the area."

"Zerkus III? Luffa, I'm so sorry, I, well, I had no idea--!"

"Relax, Dotz. They weren't Jindan cultists, so you probably... ow!... probably couldn't have predicted this. You were looking for Saiyan invasions, and this was a band of Zoons, trying to take advantage of the chaos. Thought they could pick on a planet further away from the fighting, but I made them regret it. Hah! You should have seen the looks on their stupid faces. Doc won't be putting them back together, that's for sure."

"I... I should have been able to predict that... even if they were Zoons, I should have..."

"Doctor, please, is she going to be all right?"

"That is precisely what I want to find out. I will get her stabilized and begin a complete examination. I think it would be prudent to take the ship somewhere safe, before any other enemies happen along."

"I can't just leave her like this--"

"Ms. Zatte, if there were someone else aboard who could handle it, I would not be asking you. With respect to Ms. Dotz's proficiency with the ship's helm controls, I do not believe she has the tactical knowledge to keep the ship out of danger in case of an attack."

"We don't need to run. I don't care how banged up I am. I'm still the Super Saiyan. No one would dare come after... ah... huh... and even if they did, I'd.... I'd...."

"Come on. You can't help her right now. The best thing we can do for her is to get back to the bridge."

"Dotz...? Okay. I know. You're right."

"Hey.... hey, where are they going...?"

"Not far, I assure you. Now, please. Lie still."

"Hey, Doc?"

"Yes?"

"I've gotta... gotta get back out there.... soon..."

"Yes well... I will see what I can do."

*******

[23 May, 233 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

There was a small desk in the back of the star-yacht's sickbay, and Topsas positioned himself behind it while he spoke to them. As he lacked the necessary anatomy for it, he gave Zatte the chair, and she sat next to the nearest bed, with Luffa in it. Despite Luffa's objections, Zatte held her hand while he gave them an update on Luffa's condition.

He had repaired the most serious injuries, and she was in no immediate danger. One of her lungs had been punctured, and there had been a hairline fracture on her skull, and a few other life-threatening issues. That still left a lot of smaller ones that could worsen if they weren't treated properly. The young women looked at him eagerly, hoping for some quick answer that would allow them to get on with their lives. Being an arachnoid life form, he wasn't completely familiar with humanoid body language, but he had seen their faces on thousands of patients over the years, all silently pleading for him to tell them how long it would take to return their lives to normal. At times, he felt like a judge sentencing a convicted criminal.

"Two months of stasis," he began. "That is my first and most robust recommendation. You will be sedated and kept in a bio-regenerative chamber to promote proper healing. I would take you out of the chamber for an examination, and if all goes as expected, we could begin localized therapies on the damaged tendons."

"Two months?" Luffa gasped.

"In stasis?" Zatte said.

"Let me be clear,that would be a total of sixty days of unconsciousness," Topsas said. "That time need not be consecutive. Many patients do this for a few days at a time, coming out of the chamber to attend to personal affairs, be with their families, and so forth. But since your personal affairs always seem to involve extreme violence, I believe it would be best to keep you under until the treatment is complete. Better sixty days in a row than a hundred or more in and out of the chamber."

"Doc, the whole war could change in sixty days," Luffa said. "If you take me out of circulation that long, it could--"

"Ah-ah! Let me finish that sentence for you. If I were to take you out of 'circulation' for that long, it could prevent your enemies from taking you out of the war permanently. Where would your Federation be then?"

"He's right, Luffa," Zatte said. "If you keep throwing yourself into these battles, you're just going to get worse. You'd be playing right into their hands. You knew it from the beginning."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know," Luffa said. "Look, I'm sorry. To both of you. I said I'd try to pace myself, and I really did try. But these attacks keep on coming, and every time I try to let someone else handle it, people get killed. I can't just stand back and watch... I mean, I know I have to, but..."

She screwed her eyes tightly, as though fighting back tears. When she opened them again, it was clear that she had failed. "I can still do more," she said. "I feel like crap, but I still have so much power that I can tap into. More than enough to make a difference out there. How can I stand by while people out there need that kind of help?"

"Luffa, some would say you have done more than enough already," Topsas said. "No one is asking you to resign from the war altogether. You mustn't feel obligated to risk your own health and safety like this. Not for persons you don't even know."

"Why not? It's what you would do," Luffa said.

"I?" Topsas thought she was joking. "You must have me mistaken with some eight-legged war hero. Perhaps a fantasy creature from one of the tales of your ancestors."

"Your modesty is sickening sometimes, you know that?" she said with a frown. "You remember the Tikosi planet, don't you? Because I sure as hell can't forget it."

"I don't see what that unpleasantness has to do with--"

"You rescued me... you barely knew anything about me, but Keda went to you for help and..."

"Merely keeping tabs on a patient," Topsas said. "I had used a considerable amount of webbing to stitch you back together, and I could hardly let that go to waste--"

As he said this, the gentle tone that represented Luffa's pulse began to speed up. Other readouts of her vital signs began to fluctuate. She began to breathe harder. Zatte tried to calm her down, and Luffa pulled her hand away from hers. And just when Topsas was about to move to check on her, she spoke again.

"I know... we don't talk about that day very much around here," Luffa finally said. "And that's mostly because of me. I was weak, and I have to live with the consequences of that weakness. But when it was all over, I turned into that thing for the first time, and I didn't know if I could turn it off, and you reached out to me, offering to help. I think that might be the bravest thing I've ever seen, and I refuse to listen to you brush it off like it doesn't matter. It matters to me. It matters a lot."

He didn't know how to answer that, and it was clear that she had nothing else to say. At last, it was Zatte who spoke. "Luffa, you've got to listen to Dr. Topsas. You can't go on like this. And if he had a better way, don't you think he would tell us?"

She looked at Zatte, then back at Topsas, and then turned her head away. "How soon can we start?" she grumbled.

"Today, if you wish," Topsas said. "I had the necessary equipment loaded on the ship while you were away."

"Hold on," Zatte said. "If we're doing this, we need to figure out where to take the ship while Luffa's under. We'll be vulnerable in the meantime, and if we set down on an inhabited world, we'll risk getting caught in an invasion."

This was not unexpected from her. Zatte came from a survivalist culture, and her she saw nearly everything as an arrangement of threats and safeguards. She was somewhat extreme in her thinking, but in this case her beliefs all converged on the most sensible course of action. She was certain that Luffa was destine to do good for the universe, which meant that Luffa had to be protected until she was healthy enough to resume that work. "Very well. I suggest you and Ms. Dotz devise up with an itinerary," he said. "I can sedate Luffa as soon as you feel it's safe."

"There's an asteroid field in the Pillimede System," Zatte said to Luffa. "We'll start there, and if Dotz doesn't foresee anyone following us, we can do a silent running for a few weeks." She stood up to leave. "I'll come see you before you go under, okay?"

"All right," Luffa said. "Just... all right. Let's get this over with." As soon as Zatte left sickbay, Luffa leaned back in her bed and let out a despondent sigh.

"I know this is difficult for you," Topsas said.

"It doesn't matter," Luffa said. "It's the only way, right? Sorry I blew up at you. If you don't want to brag about what you've done for me, that's none of my business. I just wish you saw yourself the way I see you."

"Ah, and that is my burden, little mammal," he said. Ambling over the desk, he crossed over to her bedside and began tucking her in. "With eight eyes, I have more than enough to see my flaws, as well as my strengths."

"Huh. Maybe you can see better than me, but the rest of my senses are pretty sharp. Maybe it's a matter of smell."

Eventually she drifted off to sleep, leaving Topsas to consider everything they had discussed. Later, he checked an experiment he was running on some tissue samples, and spent the rest of the afternoon monitoring Luffa's vital signs, while he wondered if he was doing the right thing.

********

[26 May, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

Zatte was true to her word, and when she was satisfied that the ship would be safely removed from combat, she returned to Luffa's side as Dr. Topsas placed her in the eight-foot-long chamber which would be used for the procedure. The equipment was somewhat bulky, but since there were only four of them on board, Topsas wasn't concerned about the space it took up in sickbay. He simply moved the beds away from one wall and placed the chamber on the deck. Once Luffa was inside, he filled with with a blue liquid commonly referred to as "stasis fluid". This was designed to not only surround the patient with the regenerative drugs he planned to use, but it would also sustain Luffa's metabolism while she lay in the chamber. Once she was sedated, the fluid was allowed to fill her lungs, as it contained oxygen-saturated perfluorocarbons. Topsas then went to the desk, where he began reviewing biofeedback data relayed from the chamber's sensors. Zatte knelt down beside the chamber for the next hour or so, before she finally stood up to leave.

"Sixty days of this," she said aloud.

"I do not wish to give you false hope," Topsas said, "but it is possible that she may fully recover sooner than expected. I will keep you informed, of course."

Zatte looked down at the chamber. "It shouldn't be like this," she said. "She should be out there, fulfilling her destiny. And I should be helping her, not just sitting around waiting for her to come out of this box."

"You are helping her," Topsas said. "It may not be glamorous, or even satisfying, but it is absolutely necessary."

"I'm sorry," Zatte said. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, it's just that... it's not enough. It's not fair."

"I thought your species was averse to risk," he said. "Keda always spoke so highly of being careful."

"I'm not like other Dorluns, Doctor," Zatte said. "And Keda wasn't being careful when she died. She saved my life."

"Of course."

"She never really saw Luffa the way I do, as a xan-nil'Dor, but I like to think that maybe Keda realized it at the very end. Either way, I think Luffa inspired her more than she wanted to admit. Well, Luffa can't do much inspiring from here, I guess."

She excused herself to check on the ship's systems, and Topsas thought he would welcome the silence. He did not. The gentle chirps of the biofeedback readouts only reminded him of the responsibility he now shouldered. And sooner or later, she would return, and the dilemma would follow. He had no consolation he could offer. Part of him wanted to tell her about the test results, but what good would that do? There were far too many unknowns to consider. He thought that Zatte of all people would appreciate that, but no. It seemed Luffa's wife would welcome a bit of risk if it meant getting her back on her feet.

Later, he checked his messages, and found that one of his children had attempted to contact him a few days ago. The terminal on his desk allowed him access to the subspace radio, and Zatte's encryption codes allowed him to send a message with little chance of it being intercepted or traced. Within minutes, he was looking at one of his own kind, though younger, and with a browner coloration.

"Dad," he said.

"Turner. This is something of a surprise," Topsas said. How are you, son?"

"I'll feel a lot better once you're out of Federation Space," Turner said. "There's a war on, or hadn't you noticed?"

"Now that you mention it, I had begun to suspect as much."

"I'm sending a ship to Woshad. I had to pull some strings to get it across the border, but I know some people, and the captain owes me a favor. They'll arrive next week. That should give you time to get to Woshad and get on board."

"Whatever for, son?"

Turner regarded him through the viewscreen and tensed his pedipalps in exasperation. "I'm trying to get you out of there, dad. Please, just get on the ship. Or if you've got some other travel arrangements, we can set up a rendezvous somewhere else. Just tell me when and where and we'll work it out."

"I'm afraid I can't leave at this time," he said. "I have a patient who needs me."

"Luffa," he groaned.

"You know I'm not at liberty to discuss--"

"Oh, come on, dad," Turner said. "It's the Federation, the one she founded, and you haven't stopped talking about that mammal since you gave up your practice on Plutark VII. And you know, for a while I was grateful to her for pulling you away from the Deathmatches, but now you've followed her into something a thousand times worse."

"It is hardly like that at all--"

"Then tell me what it is," Turner insisted. "Tell me why the almighty Federation needs Dr. Topsas to play medic in their warzone."

"She is badly hurt," Topsas explained. "The fighting has been very fierce, and if I do not mend her injuries from time to time, it could jeopardize countless lives."

"And they need you for that? You're telling me that you're the only qualified doctor in the entire Federation who can work on her?"

"I am the best qualified," Topsas countered. "Honestly, very few doctors are familiar at all with Saiyan medicine. And Luffa is a unique specimen among a unique species."

"And that justifies you running around in the middle of a war? Where are you right now?"

"I'd prefer not to answer that at this time," Topsas said. "It's not that I don't trust you, son, but if the enemy were to intercept and decode this message, they might find out--"

"Wonderful. Wonderful," Turner groaned. "So it's a matter of national security, is it? Should I contact the Federation Embassy, then?"

"I doubt they even know of my involvement," Topsas replied. "My presence here is somewhat unofficial. I've been told that my modesty is rather 'sickening'. Perhaps I should have requested a field promotion..."

"Enough! Dad, I've had all I can stand! Listen to me, you're not even a Federation citizen. This isn't your war!"

"She is my patient," Topsas argued.

"So what, then? You'll follow her until she dies?! Until you die?! Do you even care what that means?"

"Turner, please calm down," Topsas pleaded. "I appreciate that you are upset, but--"

"I'm upset because you care more about that Saiyan than your own family! Chelik and Lister called me, you know. They never call, but they heard about this war and no one had heard from you in weeks, and sure enough the last letter you sent was from Federation coordinates, just like before!"

"I assure you, son, I am quite safe here. If you like, I can contact Chelik, Lister, and the others to make certain they understand."

"Oh, they understand just fine, dad," Turner said. "That's why they called me. Because that's how this family works. Someone does something reckless or stupid, and then it's time to call in Turner to fix it. And why not? I've got Turner Polymer Industries, and all the resources that go with it. I can just hire a ship to go into a war zone and fetch you, no trouble at all. It's not like I have any problems of my own to worry about!"

"Son, if you need my help..."

"What I need is my father to stop running off on these ridiculous adventures!" Turner thundered. "I need you to listen to me, just once. Just once, and do the sensible thing." He held up one finger on one of his forelimbs as he said this. Topsas could see the desperation in his eyes very clearly.

"I promise you that I won't take any undue risks, Turner," he said. "I have friends here who are very careful about this sort of thing. But I must ask you to understand. I cannot leave just yet. There is simply too much at stake."

"This is about Nwitt, isn't it?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Turner drew a short breath before continuing. "I know it was hard for you. It was hard for all of us. Ninth Eye, she was my sister! I miss her every day. We all do. But ever since she died, you've been getting mixed up with these lost causes, trying to save people that just aren't worth it! And maybe I should admire that. I've tried to, believe me. But I can't. If it's selfish of me, then I'm selfish, but I just want my father to come home and stay alive."

The words bothered him more than he liked to admit. "Son, I cannot just abandon others in their time of need. I swore an oath, and besides, we have a higher duty to people like Luffa. We have too many eyes to look away, and too many hands not to--"

"I know all that!" Turner said, very nearly shouting. "I read the Scriptures too, you know! I know Nwitt's in the heavenly web, and that one day we'll all be there to join her, and that we have to help where we can, but not this, dammit! If she were here, do you really think she'd want you to throw your life away like this?"

"I'll be all right, son," Topsas said. This was the most he had spoken with him in some time. Turner was normally so reserved, so quiet, ever the picture of the successful entrepreneur. And Turner had been angry with him before, but never quite like this. He regretted that he had caused his son such anguish, though he didn't fully understand how. He wished he knew some way to convince him.

"Yeah. Yeah, you'll be fine, probably," Turner muttered. "But what about next time, and the next? One of these days you'll go somewhere that even I can't get you out of. All for some 'Super Saiyan' I've never even met. And when the law of averages finally catches up to you? Well, I guess I'm just supposed to suck it up and pretend it doesn't bother me."

"I'm sorry," was all Topsas knew to say. It didn't seem to be enough. Turner had been an adult for a very long time. All of his children had grown up ages ago. Suddenly, Turner looked very much to him the way he did as a child, inconsolable over something that most would call trivial, but Topsas always knew meant the world to him.

"I don't want you to be sorry," Turner said, his voice now low and weary. "I just want you to get on that transport next week. Just come home, dad. Please. I don't want Luffa to suffer, or anyone else but... please. Just get on the transport."

"Turner, I--"

Turner looked somewhat embarrassed now, either by his outburst, or his pleas, or the emotions that had motivated them. "I have to go," he said. "I... Well, I've already said what I have to say. Just... I have to go."

And with that, he closed the transmission, leaving Dr. Topsas looking at his own reflection in the viewscreen.

*******

[28 May, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

"Am I doing the right thing?" Dr. Topsas asked. It was a loaded question, kept purposely vague, but he asked it over breakfast, as casually as one might ask for another glass of juice.

Dotz looked at him, and her eyes widened with anxiety. "Er, um... yes? I don't... well..."

She was a humanoid, middle-aged, with brown hair that was well on its way to grey. She claimed to have an ancestor of the Kanassan species, though Topsas had found no physiological evidence to support this, aside from her clairvoyant abilities, which could have been entirely coincidental. Taller and heavier than Luffa and Zatte, Dotz was far meeker, and it seemed that she was always pulling her arms close to herself and stooping her head, as though she was worried about taking up too much space. Her loose muave garments seemed designed to conceal herself further, and she was always adjusting her shawl like it was showing too much of the sides of her face.

"I'm speaking of the treatment I prescribed for Luffa," he explained. "I can't help but wonder if this is the right course of action."

"Well, I'm no doctor," Dotz said. "I'm sure whatever you've decided is the best. I know you've taken very good care of me since I got here."

"No, that's not..." Topsas paused and collected himself before continuing. "You've made some very accurate predictions, from what I understand. About the war."

"Oh, well... I didn't catch those Zoons attacking Zerkus III," Dotz said regretfully. "Luffa said it was okay, but I can't help but feel responsible for what she's going through right now."

"Yes, but the battles you have forseen have all come to pass," Topsas reminded her. "Luffa has spoken very highly of your talents, though I am at a loss to explain them. What I'm wondering is whether you've seen any major combat in the next two months. Something that only Luffa would be able to handle."

"Well, uh, you should really talk to Zatte about that," Dotz said. "There are battles going on all over the Federation border. She's been keeping track of them all, so we'll know where Luffa will be needed when she's ready."

"Yes but--!" Topsas steadied himself. It wasn't Dotz' fault that she wasn't understanding what he needed. She was only trying to be helpful in her own, unassuming way. "I don't wish to trouble Ms. Zatte," he explained. "I have just been having... second thoughts. I was hoping that you might be able to predict whether my decisions will turn out for good or ill."

"Oh, you want a reading," Dotz said. "I'll need to look at your palm for that."

"Fortunately, I am well-supplied in that regard," Topsas said as he extended one of his forward limbs across the table for Dotz to examine. It was supposed to be a joke to lighten the mood. He thought humanoids were easily amused by the notion that he had so many hands and eyes, but Dotz didn't seem to notice what he had said. She simply took his hand and cradled it in her own, staring at it like a jeweler inspecting a diamond. While he waited, Topsas resumed eating with his other hands.

"You'll be going on a journey soon," Dotz said.

"That is rather self-evident," Topsas replied. "As I am on board a starship, and travel is inevitable."

"Mm-hmm. Family trouble. They're upset, but they aren't angry with you, just worried. And you'll be fine. One day they'll see that."

"Yes, well, that was hardly what I needed to--"

"In the end... oh, it looks like your wishes will come true. I wonder what that could mean. It sounds like a very happy way to die."

"Yes, but I have more immediate concerns," Topsas said. "The war. How long will it take for Luffa to recover? How many will die during that time? How many deaths could be prevented. You can see this, can't you?"

Dotz looked up at his face and shook her head. "I can't forsee Luffa's fate at all. I think that's why I missed the Zoon attack, because I was, uh, looking for visions of Saiyans in general. I should have been checking for Federation planets, but there's so many of them that it's hard to follow all of them."

"Are you saying that you can predict certain battles, but not whether Luffa will participate in them personally?"

"Uh, well, yes, that's right. And I can't always get the details right. Luffa's told me that sometimes there's more enemies on a planet than I predicted. Sometimes less. I can usually get the date right, but not always the exact hour. But she likes it that way. It makes things 'interesting', is the way she put it."

"Then you have no idea how long it will take her to recover," Topsas groaned. "Or whether I end up using some other treatment."

"Of course I know that, Doctor," Dotz said innocently. "You said it would take about sixty days, didn't you? And what other treatment could there be?"

"What indeed?" Topsas said. He began scraping sauce from the bottom of his bowl, determined not to look her in the eye.

"Something about meeting Luffa increased my psychic abilities," Dotz said, "but they still have, um, limitations. I learned a long time ago that there's a lot you can predict just by paying attention to the present. And I know you're a good doctor, and that you put your patients' welfare first. I don't need to look into the future to know that you'll do the right thing."

She stood up and started gathering their dishes. "Here, let me get those for you. You probably want to go back to sickbay to check on Luffa. Tell her I said hi. Not that... I mean, she probably wouldn't hear you, right? Unless she can hear people while she's asleep? I don't know all her powers."

Topsas handed off his bowl and steepled some of his fingers. He had just run out of people to talk to.

NEXT: Second Opinion

[feralpumpkincatgirl]

literally nobody asked but here's sone tips for driving

A Disclaimer:

I got my permit and license in Oregon. What I say here might not be entirely 100% applicable in other states and especially other countries, so make sure to read up on the driving laws for your particular region! Driver's manuals are usually free and can be found in pdf format, to my knowledge.

GETTING THE FUCK STARTED

Make your first drive in an empty parking lot. School parking lots are ideal for this, as they're usually fairly spacious, accessible, and mostly empty on weekends.

Neighborhoods with wider streets are also a good for beginners as there's relatively little traffic and usually have a good variety of routes to take.

Pay attention to the road while you're a passenger, it'll teach you the more major roads in your area once you're ready to take them on!

PARKING

In larger lots, the ideal situation is to be able to pull in (go forward into) a parking spot and then drive through an occupied spot to get to the other side of your row of parking. This way, you never have to shift into reverse while parking.

When pulling into a spot, drive on the opposite side of the lane of the spot and turn *real* sharp towards it when the mirror on that side roughly lines up with the parking line.

If you can't pull through, it's safer to back into a spot so you can pull out without having to reverse out and increase your isk of hitting something. Sadly, I don't have any tips fo this, so practice in that emptry school parking lot from before!

Smaller lots are usually safe enough to pull in and back out of a spot.

When pulling forward out of a spot woth cars on either side, wait until the back doors at least are completely clear of the cars on both sides of you. The same goes with backing out of a spot, but instead of going by the back seats, wait until your body is clear. Why, you ask?

There's some tips for parallel parking in Driver's Ed- which I encourage taking if at all possible, it's not that bad I promise- that I don't entirely remember, but it went something like this: Line up with a parked car a few feet away and reverse at an angle, then straighten out until you've aligned with the curb. Follow the same rules as a regular parkin space to judge when to turn.

LIGHTS

I don't know about other places but in Oregon you can turn right on a red light, as long as you stop before turning and yield to oncoming traffic. Use this to your advantage.

If you're about to enter an intersection and the light turns yellow, just keep going. You're supposed to make every reasonable effort to stop, and giving yoursef whiplash and stopping halfway in the intersection is not reasonable.

Speaking of stopping in intersections, don't. Even if the light is green, don't go until there's enough room on the other side of the intersection to fit your car because I can personally tell you that being stopped in an intersection is THE Most Terrifying Thing.

If you see a flashing arrow, treat it like a red light in a right turn lane. You CAN turn here, but you have to wait for oncoming traffic.

THE OPEN ROAD

Try to avoid driving in rush hour traffic until you're more experienced. Just trust me on that.

Signage trumps all other laws. If the sign says "You can't turn right on red here, motherfucker!" that means you can't turn right on red there and you're also a motherfucker. Follow signage.

Sometimes you'll encounter a yellow-orange sign with a number on it. That's the advisory speed. My general rule of thumb is that you can start by going 5 mph over it (which shouldn't ever put you above the speed limit) in perfect conditions, and take away 5 mph from that for every bad condition on the road until you meet it.

Bad conditions include but are not limited to: Rain, night, obstructed visibility around curves (like trees, buildings, and hills), tight curves in general, and fog. For is worth double. Ice/snow isn't worth trying to drive in without chains.

Try to memorize a route before you leave, especially if you're driving somewhere new.

My Driver's Ed instructor once gave me a piece of sage wisdom: "If you tink you MIGHT need to use your signaln use it." So use it.

LIFE IS A HIGHWAY

Highway driving is the scariest type of driving, but remember that it's also the simplest. For the most part, it's literally just staying in your lane, but there are a few things you need to do.

First, you need to get on the highway. While on the on-ramp, hit the gas until you're up to highway speed and look for an opening to change lanes into the highway proper.

Speaking of lane changes, this is just about the only time you need to worry about something in your blind spot. Usually you should have pretty good visibility approaching a highway, but it's good to physically turn and look behind you before you change lanes. Make sure to use your signal when changing lanes.

You'll also usually need to change lanes to get off the highway. Same principles apply, only it's more likely you'll need to check your blind spot. Slow down to the speed the off-ramp tells you.

There's this funky thing called, I Shit You Not, velocitation where after you've been driving fast for a while you want to keep driving fast and disregard the speed limit. Hell, it happens even switching to neighborhood roads. Watch your speed in both circumstances.

THE ANXIETY

Driving is anxiety-inducing for the first while, I know. I cried at the orientation for Driver's Ed, and I almost never cry. Here's some tips for that.

If you're worried about the permit test or the written driver's test, they're both piss easy. I can't speak for the driving part of the driver's test because I never took it.

Taking Driver's Ed is a huge help. There's still anxiety in there, of course, but it's in a controlled scenario and it gives you a good excuse to leave your comfort zone. Plus, at least for me, I didn't need to take the driving portion of my license test because I passed Driver's Ed!

If that's not an option, think of it like a video game. You're not great yet, but that's because you're just learning the controls. And once you've got the controls down, you start to learn strategyn and it gets easier and easier!

Also, I'd recommend leaving your phone at home during the earlier practice runs and silencing it whenever you're driving. It's one less thing to worry about distracting you, and I found it was a huge help.

Start small. Drive on little half-hour loops, start driving for small errands, drive to/from school/work, it all adds up.

GENERAL TIPS

Don't tailgate. Ideally you want to put four seconds between you and who you're following (which you can count by starting a count from when they pass an object and stop when you pass it)

On the subject, if you'rd following a big semi truck or a bus or something like that, make sure you can see their mirrors! that ensures both a safe following distance and also keeps you Safe from plowing straight into its dummy thicc vehicular ass

You've seen that one post that's just full of memes about shitty BMW drivers? Yeah that's real and that applies to most luxury cars, ESPECIALLY of the sports variety.

Notable exception to this, at least in my experience: Teslas. I don't know why Tesla drivers are more cautious than most luxury car drivers but I'm guessing it's because of the snobby culture around them that makes people not want anyone to touch their Shiny Expensive Tesla or else they'll call Elon Musk himself to smite you

Honestly there's a flavor of driver for every type of car out there. I've personally found that SUVs are the worst tailgatersand sedans tend to pull out at the worst times.

Adjust your side mirrors so you can only barely see your own car in the reflection andtry to center your rear-view mirror as much as possible. Also, adjust the seat to what's most comfortable but give yourself at least 16 iches between the steering wheel or your face. There's an airbag there, and in the extremely unlikely circumstance you get in an accident, it Will likely kill you if you're any closer.

It's not required, but it's safest to keep your headlights on whenever you're driving. Even in daylight, it attracts more attention to your car so other drivers can see you coming!

That being said, never turn on your brights. Unless you're out driving at night in the fuckin' boonies you'll never need them, and they can actually create worse visibility than regular headlights in fog.

now go and drive fucker! you've got this!

(P.S. feel free to add any other tips onto this!!!)