#what a fricking rug...

[kingdomoftyto]

ohhHHH MY GOD I just got to episode 19 (The Sandstorm) in my WtNV relisten and I thought I remembered this one pretty vividly--the low hum, KILL YOUR DOUBLE, the Smiling God, etc--but the INSTANT I heard the name "Strex Corp" I felt ACTUAL dread, like someone had just reached into the depths of my mind and pulled out the name of a forgotten demon

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

it's not just hair daddy.

Word Count - 2.4k

till forever falls apart masterlist

Jack was feeling overwhelmed as he was standing in his master bathroom, looking at all the products Idris would use for both their children's hair. It didn’t help when he realized time was slipping away from him, and although the kids have been up since 7 am, he hasn’t attempted to get himself or the kiddos ready for the Rangers game he was supposed to leave for in 45 minutes. Jack was supposed to be at the rink in a little over an hour, to take the team bus to Madison Square Garden. The plan was that since today was his day, he was going to give the kids to Idris at the rock and she was going to drive them to MSG in the city. The kids haven’t seen their dad play a game all season and Zander has been begging to go. Despite whatever problems Idris and Jack were having, she would do anything to make either of her children’s happiness. Which today includes going to her baby daddy’s / used to be fiances’ game. 

The only thing that Jack had to do was get them ready, which was fine except for doing their hair. Jack’s anxiety was only rising, his breath picking up slightly as he continued to look at all the different products, bows and hair clips she left for Zola’s hair. Jack decided that he would leave and get both of his kids dressed and then figure out the hair situation. As he leaves the bathroom he can hear Bluey on the tv still playing, and Zola laying on the bed but Zander nowhere in sight. 

“Hi Zozo.” he cues as he picks up his daughter and she giggles as Jack slightly bounces her on his hip. “Where did your brother go?” he asks her, knowing he won’t get a response. “Huh where?” He continues to talk in a baby voice, as he leaves his room and goes to look for his son. He finds Zander on the couch eating some cheerios out of his safe no spill toddler bowl. 

Before Jack can even speak to his son, he hears Luke’s voice from the kitchen. “Dude you're not even dressed. We’re gonna be late.” he scolds Jack. “Oh my god! Neither is Zo. What have you been doing for the last 30 minutes?” The annoyance in Luke’s voice was clear and Jack winced ever so slightly embarrassed his little brother was scolding him. 

“Listen I can get dressed in like 5 minutes okay. I’m gonna get the kids ready and then I will throw on some suit and we’ll leave. We have plenty of time.” Jack says, but he isn’t sure if the words are supposed to bring his little brother comfort or himself. 

Turning towards his son who is still as happy as can be eating his snack that Luke must've gotten him; he says “Come on Z, let’s go to your room and get dressed.” Slightly reaching out his hand that isn’t holding his daughter, gesturing towards his son to take his hand. 

“B-but I wanna finish me snack.” his son pouts. 

“My snack honey, not me snack.” Jack smirks at his son’s grammar mistake. 

“Bro this is not a time for a grammar lesson!” Luke screams from the kitchen which Jack ignores continuing to talk to his son. 

“You can bring it with you, and eat it while I do your hair.” Jack offers and Zander smiles at his sheeming off the coach and grabbing his hand as Luke continues to yell from the kitchen. 

“Oh my god Jack! You’re doing their hair too! Frick we’re definitely gonna be late.”  Luke complains, as he shoves a mouthful cereal in his mouth from his own bowl of cereal. Although Jack appreciates that Luke used ‘frick’ instead of ‘fuck’ in front of the kids he still needs to take a deep breath, his patience with his brother wearing thin.

“Will you shut up!” he yells at Luke as he guides Zander to his and Zola’s room. Originally the family of five was supposed to move to a townhouse so each kid has their own room, but that was before Idris asked for a break. Plus it doesn’t matter if they share a room, they both end up with Jack most nights they are with him anyway. Putting Zola down on the rug, as he goes to Zander’s dresser picking out new underwear for him and two options for pants. “Which pair is black or dark green?” he asks squatting down resting on the balls of his feet so Zander can see both. 

Jack watches his son as he has that slight crease in his brows, and a slight smirk on his lips as he decides what color pants he wants to wear. Jack has a smile on his face, because Zander looks as if someone is trying to teach his little two-year-old brain pre-algebra. “Uhhh green.” 

Jack nods as he helps his son step out of his pajama pants as Zander uses his shoulders to balance on. He goes to help Zander out of his underwear, but Zander protests. “No. Daddy. Only pants.” 

Before Zander can continue to protest Jack changes so he is on his knees as he tries to reason with his son. “Zander. You have to change your underwear. It’s not an option.” Jack’s voice is stern with him. He can tell his son is about to make a dash for the door, so he wraps his arms around Zander as he begins to fight Jack. Zander continues his protests and finally Jack looks his son in the eye and says “okay here is the deal, you change your underwear or you can’t come to Uncle Lukey’s and my game today.” 

Zander has a full blown pout, his hands in fists as he finally says “fine.” Jack takes a deep breath as he feels like he has just got through the worst of getting his kids ready. Once the pants are on, Jack puts a long sleeve shirt on his son and then lets him decide between his jersey that says “daddy” or a devils hoodie. Zander picks the hoodie because “i wanna ma’ch with sissy.”

“Okay now first you eat your snack, then we’ll go do your hair. Okay buddy.” Jack never thought he would be someone who uses “first, then statements” with anyone let alone his kids. But Idris said they should try to use them as much as possible with Z to see if it helps with stubbornness when it comes to transitioning to a new task and terrible tantrums. Jack quickly grabs Zola’s devils sweatshirt which is too big on her still, and some sweats for her. 

“Hi baby. Let’s get you dressed” as Jack finally gives attention to his daughter she babbles happily in response. 

“Da-da” she says.

“Yeah baby that’s me.” he responds as he quickly uses the changing table to change her clothes. “Okay Z time to go.” he says as he lifts his daughter up even though she can walk it’s very slow and Jack is on a time crunch. Zander gets up with his bowl which still is full, ‘how much fucking cereal did Luke give you’ Jack thinks to himself. 

As they pass the living room again, they see Luke again this time fully dressed including shoes and his feet on the table. “Dude feet off.” Jack says as he passes him using his leg to kick Luke’s foot off the coffee table. 

Luke doesn’t even look up from his phone as he says “not to sound like you, but time check we only have 30 minutes left.” Luke mumbles as Jack passes him with Zander following close behind. Jack ignores him, but as soon as Jack is out of sight he puts his long legs out again on the table, looking up and smirking about Zander, quickly motioning for Zander not to tell on him. Zander stops following his dad and starts giggling with his uncle until he hears his dad call him and he rushes off. 

Thankfully Jack left Zola’s bouncer in his room and he places her in it, so starts using her feet to follow her dad. “Not yet Zo.” he mumbles as Zander finally comes into the room. Jack reaches for his son, suddenly picking him up and slightly throwing him in the air causing Zander to squeal loudly. “Okay Z, time for hair.” As he carries Z to the bathroom, he can hear Zola behind him following behind in her bouncer. Jack places Zander on the step he kept in his bathroom so Zander can reach the sink. “Okay ready?” he asks, making eye-contact through the mirror. 

“Mmmhh” his son mumbles as he brings his bowl to his level so he can continue to eat. Jack grabs the bottle of water and sprays Zanders hair. “No daddy.” his son says. 

“What?” Jack asks. 

“That’s not how mama does it.” Zander complains with a huff. Jack takes a deep breath as he places the bottle on the sink. 

“Z I did your hair like this yesterday and it was fine.” trying to reason with his son. 

“No. Gotta use da cream.” he complains. 

Jack tries to gently tell his son. “Baby. That's only when your hair is wet.” 

“NO BABY.” Zander screams at the top of his lungs because Jack called him by that pet name. 

“Right. No baby sorry.” Jack apologizes immediately hoping that Zander won’t go into a full meltdown. 

Sadly, Jack’s efforts went in vain as Zander continued to scream “I WANT Mama.” 

Jack sighs deeply, “You are going to see Mama in less than an hour Z. But the longer you fight me, the later you are gonna see Mama.” 

Zander’s jaw is still locked as he thinks about what his dad just told him, as he mumbles something under his breath for Jack to continue he grabs the bottle again and finishes wetting the baby curls. Jack at this point is rushing and forgets to put the leave in a conditioner that is also a detangler. Zander’s hair doesn’t look long but it is, and in the first couple seconds almost immediately the tears come down his face as it hurts. “I’m sorry honey.” Jack apologizes for using the detangler. 

Despite it not hurting anymore, Zander doesn’t stop his screaming cries. “I waaannttt mommy.” he cries and it hits Jack as if a bad hit on the ice does. 

Jack stops brushing his hair for a second, “I know honey. Deep breath for me okay?” Jack tries to get his son to take a deep breath before he makes himself sick from crying so hard. Jack mumbles something along the lines of “there ya go” as he bends down with a tissue from the sink to wipe Zander’s tears and snot off his face. 

Zander’s lip is still quivering, as he says “it’s not just the hair daddy.” 

Jack breath catches, if he didn’t feel like a piece of shit before he does now at his son’s words. Jack doesn’t say anything to his son for a minute. Until he says“Okay. Well your hair is done. Why don’t you go hangout with Uncle Luke while I do Zozo’s hair and get ready.” 

Zander nods his head as he steps off the stoll, as he passes Zola he says “good ‘uck.” He completely misses the l in ‘luck.’ But the fact that he wishes his little sister luck simply because their dad is going to do her hair makes Jack smile. 

It doesn’t take Jack long to do Zola’s hair, he uses red bow clips to clip two little ponytails. Jack knows that it doesn’t look as good as if Idris did it but it will have to do. Quickly he goes to get dressed and grabs Zola as he grabs the diaper bag, as he goes to the living room. Thankfully Luke put Zander’s shoes on and Jack could hear while he was getting dressed that it was a fight about how he wanted to wear his flip-flops and Luke didn’t want him to. 

“Alright let’s go.” Jack says diaper bag on one arm diaper bag on another. 

“Daddy?”

“Yeah Z” he asks.

“I wanna be carried,” he complains. 

“I can’t carry you with the diaper bag, and Zola.” 

“Oh my god give me the fucking bag I can’t do this.” Luke says, as he locks the apartment door.

“You don’t wanna take Zola?” he asks as Luke practically rips the bag of his shoulder. 

“And risk a Zola meltdown. Naw I’m good.” as he continues to walk quickly to the elevator as Jack bends down to scoop up his son. 

“Are you excited Z?” Jack asks. 

“Yup.” popping his ‘p’ 

Thankfully when they get to the stadium, they are only a few minutes late. Luke grabs the gear from the trunk he already had packed earlier in the day. He doesn’t even try to say bye as he runs to the bus, committed to his promise of “I will not be late because you are shit at time management Jack.” Thankfully Idris is already there and opens the back door to great the kids. 

“Mommy.” Zander shreeks. 

“Hi baby.” she coos, Jack rolls his eyes at the nickname knowing that Zander will only smile at Idris calling him that. 

“Oh I see Daddy did your hair.” she says to Zola and then she turns to Zanders flattened curls “oh and your Zander.” 

“Listen, I tried my best, Iddy.” Jack mumbles looking down at the garage floor feeling shy all of a sudden, as she only giggles at him. 

Jack's cheeks start to feel warm, as he blushes at her. “I know J.” The light pink blush only becomes darker at the nickname. ‘She hasn’t called me that in months.’ he thinks to himself. “Don’t worry I have hair stuff in my bag, I had a feeling.” As she lightly pats Jacks cheek. 

“HUGHES LET’S GO.” Jack turns his head fast, as he sees Coach Shelden yelling for him. 

“You better go.” Idris mumbles. 

“Here.” Jack shoves the remote for his car in her hand. “Take it. It’ll be easier, plus it’s my game you shouldn’t have to pay for gas.” 

“Jack.” the way she sighs his name like she is about to protest. But Jack doesn’t wait to listen; he just starts to jog backwards towards the bus. “It’s yours! Hey you look beautiful I’ve always said red is your color.” and now it was Idris turn to blush but Jack doesn’t see as he turns to run to the bus hoping he gets there fast enough that he won’t have to do bag skates next practice.

[wayward-robin]

No spoilers past 3x15 if possible!  

3x08 – Malfunction thoughts

Well this was certainly an episode!

Ice skating is just not my sport. It was nerve wracking waiting for the accident to happen because with blades involved you just know it was gonna be messy!

Buck was Bambi on ice which was hilarious!

Bobby being a former ice skater was even more so! I was so hoping there would be pictures but Buck came through with a cardboard cutout which was even better!

Athena’s suspension after last ep was hardly a surprise.

The self-driving car sat sav announcing “you have arrived at your destination” when its literally parked in the hospital reception desk was funnier than it should’ve been!

Eddie’s still street fighting. Although in a much more professional looking set up and earning some cash from it all now.

Did Ryan Guzman do all his own stunts for these fight scenes? It genuinely looked like him doing it all.

I really hope him nearly killing someone is enough of a wake up call for him to quit this. I��m glad he finally opened up to Bobby. Of all them, Bobby knows trying to self-medicate pain away doesn’t work.

It was genuinely turning into a very pleasant ep of finally seeing the whole team together working on calls for the first time since Bobby’s suspension back in season 2(!). I should’ve guessed the rug was gonna get pulled out from under me.

Hen crashing the ambulance frightened the heck out of me. I was just in shock for the rest of the scenes, especially watching that girl just go about her day and knowing what she was literally driving into.

The whole sequence had me crying. I don’t cry easily but Hen’s anguish, the team’s reactions, the fricking music was just… yeah I cried like a baby.

I could see Hen was distracted all ep but I don’t think that accident was her fault?

[chickenkurage]

CHAPTER 7 OF BLANK SLATE WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! LET'S GET STRAIGHT TO IT!!!

FIRST OF ALL.... GOTTA HAVE TO START WITH THAT FLASHBACK??? HOW SLATE GOT HIS ARM "MYSTERIOUSLY" BROKEN IN THE FIRST PLACE??? *INHALES* OH GOSH THE WAY MY MIND SHIFTED TO IMAGINING HOW THE AMOUNT OF EXTREME PAIN SLATE HAD TO TAKE IN WHEN THAT B*TCH TWISTED IT AND TIGHTEN HIS GRIP... OH MY GOSH F*CK, YOU, HALO-B*TCH!!! I HOPE HE ACTUALLY SUFFERS EXTREME CONSEQUENCES OH MY GOSH HE BETTER- AND YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ALAN POV!!! EVERYONE REALLY IS TRYING THEIR BESTS TO SPEND TIME WITH HIM AS MUCH AS THEY CAN EVEN IF THEY HAVE BUSY SCHEDULES, LIKE YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SPEND TIME WITH THE KIDS AGAIN!!! SPEND TIME WITH THEM LIKE HOW IT USED TO BE!!! (AMMY HAS GOT TO REUNITE WITH HIM AGAIN TOO THOUGH I HONESTLY MISS HER AND ALAN'S DUO MOMENTS, SHE WAS THERE FOR HIM THE WHOLE TIME BACK AT THE PC!!!), BUT PURPLE STANDING OUT AS AN EXCEPTION??? AND HE EVEN NOTICED SOMETHING ABOUT ALAN SOMEHOW??? WHA- WILL HE AND/OR SLATE FIGURE OUT WHAT HE'S TRYING TO DO??? ABOUT THE WHOLE PRETENDING THING??? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- SO MANY THOUGHTS BUT OFC THOSE WILL BE ANSWERED IN THE FUTURE- ALSO YES SLATE TAKE A FRICKING BREAK HERE!!! HAS THIS MF NOT BEEN EATING OR SLEEPING THAT MUCH AT ALL??? GEEZ WHAT KIND OF SIMPLE JOB IS THIS FOR YOU SLATE- I EVEN AGREE WITH MAUVE AND ALICE YOU DEFINITELY NEED SOME MONTHS OF BREAK AFTER EVERYTHING YOU HAVE BEEN THROUGH WITH HALO SO LISTEN TO THEM AT LEAST!!! SLATE AND CANARY FLASHBACK??? BUT OH GOSH READING ABOUT CANARY'S STATE THOUGH IS JUST... OH GOSH CANARY NO WHAT ELSE DID THAT B*TCH HALO DO TO YOU OH DEARLY GOSH FRICK YOOOOOOOOOOOOU!!! BUT SLATE FEELING FEARED AND HORRIFIED ABOUT HALO FROM WHAT HE HAS DONE TO HIM IS JUST... LIKE TRYING TO AT LEAST HELP CANARY OUT WILL STILL BRING SOMETHING TO HIM ANYWAYS, FEELING SO HELPLESS AND A LITERAL COWARD IN HIS HEART- HAVING TO WITNESS HER EXPERIENCES WITH HALO... IF CANARY WAS THAT YOUNG IN THE PAST SINCE SLATE STATED SHE WAS SO YOUNG OH MY GOSH HALO F*CK YOU AGAIN YOU PIECE OF- BUT SLATE HAVING DOUBTS IF MAUVE EVEN ACTUALLY CARED ABOUT HIM AND THE OTHERS??? SLATE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- BUT ANOTHER SLATE AND ALAN MEETING LET'S GO!!! BUT OFC IN SLATE'S EYES IT WOULD FEEL DIFFERENT TO SEE HIM WITHOUT THE MUZZLE AND BLINDFOLD SINCE THAT'S HOW HE MET HIM FOR THE FIRST TIME BACK AT THE WAREHOUSE, BUT SLATE IS ACTUALLY NOTICING ALAN'S DIFFERENT BEHAVIOR NOW??? HIS EYES AND EVEN SAYING WHAT HE'S ATTEMPTING??? BUT YES SPILL ABOUT NULL STILL BEING ALIVE!!! THEY NEED TO REUNITE THE MOTHER AND SON DUO OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH- BUT WHAT??? ALAN STILL ACTUALLY HAS HIS POWERS??? SLATE SAW HIM FLICKERING THEM.... OH GOSH OH GOSH- HE'S WILLING TO KILL HIM RIGHT THERE??? OH LITERALLY THANK GOSH AGENT CAME JUST IN TIME BEFORE ALAN DID SOMETHING.... THANK FRICKING GOSH-

BUT WAIT.... IS THIS ACTUALLY 06 OR... WAIT, WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT- BACK AT THE LAST FIC AGAIN IN CHAPTER 23, AT THE LAST PARTS THERE WERE THOSE LINES... IF 06 I'M ASSUMING SAID ABOUT HE WON'T REMEMBER THE DREAMS... WOULD THAT MEAN HE ACTUALLY STILL DOES AND AFTER EXPERIENCING ALL OF THAT HE DECIDED TO PRETEND BECAUSE.... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- IDK IF THIS IS ACTUALLY RIGHT BUT WHAT???

Let's go Chapter 7 hehe!

This is indeed the part where Slate gets mysteriously hurt. Now that I've shown everyone how Halo does it and why he does it, I have to agree with you: Halo deserves to experience all the pain he has inflicted on others.

From Alan's perspective—eeek!—I’m at least glad that they are trying to change their ways with Alan, even though it falls a bit into morally grey territory, considering they intended to wipe Alan's memory clean and keep everything a secret. They really wanted to sweep it under the rug—tsk, tsk.

I also wonder where Ammy has gone. Hehe, maybe we’ll see more of her soon! :DDDDD

I really feel like Purple is the kind of character who would quickly notice something is wrong. However, as mentioned here, he never really thought about it that much, even if he did notice there was something slightly off with Alan. He’s just like his father! XDD

And finally! Slate gets some rest after working under Halo for so many years! Finally! Get some rest, you little boy failure! XDDDD We all know Slate has become so accustomed to not sleeping much, especially with Halo's training and those "missions" he was forced to take on. As for eating, Slate never touched any of the food that Mauve bought because he was afraid that if he ate too much, both Mauve and Alice would go without food. So instead, he just eats a little bit of the food at the store where he works (MY POOR BOY!).

And poor Canary. We all know she's just a young kid, her mind filled with anger and hatred towards Chosen and Dark for killing someone she loves so much: her sister. DDD: She's just a kid… How could you, Halo?

Then there’s poor Slate. He knew what Halo would do and what he had done, yet he also understood that there was nothing he could do but let it unfold. After all, he has witnessed Halo's treatment.

In another meeting between Slate and Alan, we can all agree that it must have been hard for Slate to see Alan in such a casual outfit after being accustomed to seeing him in a muzzle. If I were in Slate's position, I would feel weirded out too.

Of course, like father, like son—Slate already suspected something was wrong with Alan. While he wasn't as close to Alan as Null was, he could still tell. How did he know? Well, let’s remember that Slate has seen everything in the arena. He has watched other stick figures descend into madness from being forced to fight, and he has seen others die. He recognized that “look” in Alan's eyes; he had seen it many times before!

Let us also thank Agent for saving our poor baby boy Slate! xDDD Otherwise, Alan might have knocked Slate's head off his shoulders! LMAO (I remember that time Slate asked Alan not to tell Dark they had met again, and Alan gave him the passive-aggressive threat that it wasn’t Dark he should be scared of. LOL)

As for whether it was Alan or 06, we'll never know. wink After all, 06 and Alan are the same person. :) - S

[mintytealfox]

You used to teach people how to pan for gold?

I did LOL the very simplified version of it and it was always hot as frick outside so hiding the fool's gold in the cool water down in the sand felt nice LOOOL (until fall would hit then my hands would be FREEZING AH) If I am remembering right we also had this hella creepy display where you would look down the glass window and you would see this miner down there with a canary with him, I can't remember if it slowly moved or not XD but I kind of remember the sound of this motor sound down in the basement where we would have lunch in the room next to him LOOOL we even had a 'prospector pit' for the kiddos and I thought it was lame as hell LOOOOL, but fun for kids, they would 'dig' in these rubber bits to get 'gems' 🙃🤣🤣🤣 The geologist, at the time, would get so excited about his rock and gem collection lol (I remember having to fight off the mean Geese up there, those things were HORRIBLE) (AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE CHICKENS THAT WOULD FIGHT ME ON THE WAY TO THE RESTROOM AAHHH I would have to run for my life through the gardens and slip through the little opening in the fence to ESCAPE LOL)

I also taught mock school at the school house to show people what school life was like in the late 1800s I had to ring the bell every hour! I actually legit hated that cause it was so LOUD when right next to it ah my ears are ringing just thinking about it ah and that heavy as hell mallet 🤣🤣 but it would be a different subject for each hour in the morning and then repeat for the afternoon.

And spinning thread (I was so bad at it oh my gosh) Talking about wool and the dying process 👍

and quilting (so now I know how to hand sew but the sewing machine still makes me scratch my head LOL)

and leather working (I would just talk about the types of leather and the process of tanning, I didn't do it myself that was for the experts. And I would only fill in when they needed an extra pair of hands 👍)

Taught some of the old dances too, but I hardly remember them now though -weeps-

and cooking in the old cast iron wood burning stove (where I got heat exhaustion cause there is a reason they would just cook outside or had a 'summer kitchen' during the summer months oh my GOSH) and I burnt EVERYTHING cause my pyromaniac self would make the fire too HOT LOL There were ladies who made THE BEST food in that thing though! like TOP TEIR BEST EVER! There is something about it that is just AHH SO EXTRA GOOOOD but anyway scraping out the ash afterwards was pretty satisfying and chopping more wood for the next day was liberating after dealing with some of the ANNOYING visitors (It was this dull as hell light little hatchet so it was all brute force and magic (finding where the log will likely split easiest) to pop those suckers in half oh my GOSH) This was also where my SEETHING, LOATHING, HAAATTEEEE for churning butter came from 😤😤 (cleaning that junk with freshly boiled water was the ACTUAL WORST, but at least I was allowed to use dawn dish soap and properly re-clean everything after closing for obvious reasons PFF)

This is only SOME of the stuff I did and had to learn so I could teach and perform LOOOOOL

//at least the laundry was fake but beating the rugs was one of my least favorite things like BRUH now all that GARBAGE DUST Is all over ME NOW AAAAAAA

lol whenever I hear 'oh man living in the 1800s would be fascinating' I say 'NO IT WOULDN'T, IT SUCKS, DON'T' 🤣🤣🤣

and the GHOSTS THERE I SWEAR I WAS ABOUT TO FIGHT SOME SUPERNATURAL RAAAAAAH

[thelongestway]

Well, this is the longest Trellian worldbuilding story, I think. :P Probably shouldn't have written this in one sitting, let's see if it even fits in a post! (And how much I'll need to edit later.)

I've been waiting for a while to explore some of this worldbuilding. Because come on, you can't give me such a fun population distribution and expect me not to take advantage of it!

Besides, outsider PoVs are always fun. :P So without further ado...

Massacre

I was getting pretty bored watching Magma sit there and do nothing (not that it could do much. Magma was barely a yacht, honestly, quick and stupid, like its owners), when Nike sent me a short frustrated burst and a data packet offering entry to a feed space on our private channel.

I extended a return connection and took her up on the offer. There were six of us total in that space, as Note's two younger charges were on the other side of Trellin, and out of range for direct contact. (They'd be pretty fricking pissed they missed the show, but that's atmospheric life for you. Aspen would probably be recording anyway.)

The Courageous and Tenacious were sitting next to each other, talking quietly and weaving SecUnit into the security teams' normal damage emulation systems for war games. Waveskimmer was just looking in with one eye, seeing as they were handling most of the normal Meet day-to-day like materials exchange this time around. And that new ship, Perihelion, sat alone, looking as smug as a bug in a rug.

Wait, not alone. Of course it wasn't alone. It was chatting with its… I had no idea what in brimstone those two were. SecUnit certainly wasn't human, like I thought at first. Hell, I'd tried to give Perihelion a tongue-lashing over letting a human be quite so connected, which it refuted with a bleeding mountain of data. Looking through it, I'd had to concede it was right--its crew member was more like a junior node than a ship. Which was fricking uncanny by itself.

But there was more to it. I'd seen constructs like that in Calderan space, and SecUnit was far beyond any of them in pretty much everything. Processing capacity, reaction speed, expertise… I mean, the damn thing tried to pick a fight with the Courageous, of all node ships, and came away walking. (Part of that was the Courageous not wanting to kill them and being expert enough to defuse the situation without hurting it, but shit. I don't think either Nike or I could've managed that. Would have been too risky for us to give it a fighting chance.)

Speaking of my little sister, she wasn't really settled. She was sort of ambling around in the feed space, this whole "oh, you just wait and see" look on her face.

You know, sister, if someone told me a couple decades ago that you'd be inviting me to a sports night with the three Great Ships and a fucking AI, I'd say they were a thruster short of their full complement, I said on our private channel as I sidled up to her. But that's what you get for volunteering to take over a station, and from the Courageous, of all ships.

You're never going to let that go, are you, Blaze? Nike grumbled, but she stopped her pacing. She was keeping most of her eyes on the security team set up, but she had enough of herself to spare that she could lean on me back-to-back, like we usually did.

Nope.

No shit I wasn't going to let it go. I missed her being at my back when I travelled Calderan space way too much for that. Least she could do was take my heckling.

And she did, with good humor. Nike always gave back good as she got.

Thought you actually liked the Courageous, sis, she said slyly. Imagine if I took over rescue duty from Dandelion!

Ugh, I said. You being on a first-name basis with her is bad enough.

You and I are always on a first-name basis with everyone, girl, Nike stuck out her tongue. By virtue of only having just the one name.

Proud old New Texan convention you're going to wind up breaking, I ribbed her. As for the current Courageous, well, they're better than the other two Great Ships, but that's not saying much.

She snickered, giving me a familiar poke, then returned to watching the security crew get ready.

Couldn't lie--it was nice having this argument finally fall into one of those comfortable exchanges you did to pass the time with your family. Not that we could do much else, really; the whole point here was that the humans and the weird human-shaped-node duked it out on their own.

Nike was pretty confident in her new crew, and yeah, she had good reason to be. They were good, and it was what, thirty against one? Even if that SecUnit was something like a node, the Courageous wasn't its body, and the mess those systems were was the stuff of horror stories. It didn't have that much of an advantage.

Still, it did manage to live up to our old hag's thrice-damned "standards" soon as it met her, so it probably wasn't going to be smooth solar wing sailing for our home team either. I supposed we'd find out how rough the winds were going to be when the game started.

And soon enough, the Courageous and Tenacious finished their weaving, SecUnit tested that its energy weapons were just registering damage instead of actually frying someone's insides and, after making sure everyone not directly involved in the games was well out of the way, we settled down to watch. The first few minutes were slow, as SecUnit was mostly doing feed recon, but eh, that's the early minutes of any team sport for you.

Perihelion, Nike said suddenly and indignantly. Are you actually showing this to your cluster? Belay that, clusters? This is not an open event!

I have judged that this will be beneficial for both my crew and SecUnit's humans, Perihelion replied haughtily. Their opinion on its capacity skews somewhat below optimal for crew efficiency. Watching this simulation will remedy that.

That fricking AI was the single most uppity ship I'd ever seen, and I wasn't having it. So I said, Yeah? And what about Caldera? For two nodes so stuck up on operational security, you two sure blab a lot.

Perihelion said, Risk assessment shows that chances of a leak from our side are minimal. Of course, you are welcome to demonstrate a better analysis. I am always open to criticism from adequately competent parties.

Which I couldn't, of course, because yeah, the Calderans only showed an interest in one person--and that member of Preservation was sitting this viewing out. Obviously on purpose.

Nike looked to the other three, but Courageous, Tenacious and Waveskimmer were pointedly silent and letting her call the shots. Somehow, when she and I met in the program and found we agreed that there should be more Texans represented in Cosmica (couldn't just let Arborean-heritage folks run the entire fleet, could we? They were even in the name, for God's sake), this wasn't what we thought our decisions would look like once we had them.

We don't have time to do a re-assessment, which you are well aware of. But this sim is my responsibility, and I say both the members of your crew and the representatives of Preservation who are under SecUnit's care will have to make do with the recordings, which they'll receive after the transfer, same as all members of our clusters, with the exception of those previously established as requiring data access for their role, Nike finally ruled. This will let all of us educate our crews while not risking their safety. Care to challenge me on that, Perihelion?

No, Perihelion said, and shut down its channel, bristling.

Nice big sister voice there, kiddo, I whispered to Nike.

Learned from the best, she chuckled. Also technically you've experienced fewer years than me now, so your mantle is mine by right… Kiddo.

Oh, that was low. Like hell it is!

Nike grinned, but before she could reply with her own shot, the Courageous said, Contact.

We all turned our eyes back on the game. SecUnit was moving, sending its drones ahead to scout, as it readied to infiltrate the Courageous' halls. From listening in to the security chatter, I knew our side was going to try to disarm and arrest it, but I didn't know what SecUnit's plan was--just that it hadn't seen the Courageous in fight mode before.

Turned out, its plan was "divide and conquer" or, put otherwise, "distract and/or seal off teams guarding choke points". Like any node, SecUnit was a much faster hacker than the humans, so it did manage to get the Courageous' old systems to cooperate pretty easily. What I hadn't expected to see was how insanely quiet it was, timing its changes very precisely to our security team's feed experts, cutting off communications, replacing video and audio with recorded loops, moving in so quietly that the team hadn't noticed until it finally went loud at the entrance to the heart room (which was still sealed. In case of accidents), shooting to disable rather than kill.

It did get shot in that final fight, but not nearly enough to take it down. And most of the team hadn't even know it had been there until it was too late.

Yeah, it was definitely better than the constructs I'd seen in Calderan space, rote and noticeable and stupid.

"Taproot and stars. Didn't think we'd go down so easily," the security team lead, Hiram, admitted and extended his hand for SecUnit to shake. It didn't take it (the rude wanker), staring at a nearby wall while its cameras looked at the entire senior team.

"That was how I'd do an infiltration here," it said. "But you're not going to be facing SecUnits or CombatUnits. You've got a human corporate assault team. They work differently. There won't be as much hacking, which is good. But if they see resistance, it won't be quiet."

"Yeah?" Hiram smiled grimly. "Why don't we try that, then? Unless you need several people on your side for that?"

"I don't," SecUnit said.

As the teams made it back to their starting points and Hiram and his senior officers made changes and adjustments, Perihelion said, I told you it would win. My suggestion is conceding now and following its plan. This will give you more time to prepare.

We've known it was good since we first got reports about the Preservation incident, Nike said with the kind of calm that told me she was seething. Which is why it just also made a fine point. There's a reason nodes don't usually enter hacking competitions with humans, and our real threat won't have a node with them. Let's see how it fares without that advantage.

Suit yourself, Perihelion replied.

I threw a glance at the Great Ships. Strangely, Waveskimmer was the one who looked most affected by the outcome, frowning and asking the other two private questions. The Courageous was running some sort of analysis, like they usually did--collating SecUnit's performance into their own strategizing about the Rim. (I'd have to grab that later from them. Their insights were usually pretty damn on point.)

The Tenacious… Wasn't smug, not really (and I had to admit I'd probably never call her smug again after meeting Perihelion, that thing outshone her by a mile). But she looked so utterly unsurprised by all this, bless her withered crone heart, that it stung even though those weren't my teams in the running, but Nike's and Aspen's.

But I didn't have much time to ruminate on that, because the Courageous announced round two.

I really should have banned node shenanigans right away, Nike whispered to me. These constraints are far more realistic. The simulation has to go better now.

I wasn't as sure of that. On the Courageous' feed, SecUnit had just started moving. It was clearly using different subroutines from before, and watching it drop into a low stance as it stalked across the Courageous' entryways, I suddenly had a wicked feeling drip down my synnerves. This didn't feel like a sports match anymore. More like one of those creepy movies the Courageous was famous for picking out.

It began similarly to its start in the first round, trying to catch an entry-guarding team inside its sector. The team had learned from its experience, and didn't let itself be caught--but the time they took regrouping gave SecUnit a window to burst down the hallway, shooting those who were far while taking down those who were near by hand.

"Dead," it announced while pushing someone's head into a wall and applying just enough pressure to show that it could've crushed their skull.

"Dead," it said after grabbing another team member as a human shield and letting them get hit by friendly fire.

"Dead," it called, throwing a makeshift grenade into a room where its drone had spied an ambush by the remaining team members.

That team had six people. It was down to zero in less than half a minute, and SecUnit kept moving.

The next two teams were converging on its position, and it took up a defensible spot. Looked into the systems again… And then called for a referee query.

Aspen granted it accelerated processing time, and SecUnit said into our feed space, mental voice echoing angrily: Courageous, a) what the FUCK, b) same rules as other environment hazards?

In the war games, if one team decided to use an environmental hazard as a weapon, the hosting node ship usually mediated who was out of the running rather than actually have people wind up in vacuum or something. But the Courageous was nestled inside the larger station body. What sort of environmental hazard could it possibly have? Wires?

Yes, Aspen said simply. You can go full contact. I will hold the weapon from final activation and let the team know if they fail.

Fuck you, Courageous (platonically), for even having that option, SecUnit hissed and disconnected.

Nike sent a questioning query, and Aspen shrugged. It found the carbon monoxide.

Oh, the Tenacious sounded faintly amused. (And that tone made the cold chill in my nerves turn to frigid ice.) You put that back in for the occasion?

The infrastructure was still there, the Courageous answered.

I could feel Nike press into me to steel herself as she watched, and a dark vindication stirred deep in my heart. This was why we were needed in Arborea Cosmica. Whether Nike grew close with the Great Ships over the years I'd been gone or not, whether the old hag were witch or saint descended, we were still needed, by God! And Nike knew that as well as I, that so long as the fleet's trees were mostly of the same root, the entire damned grove would eat flesh and drink blood, and it sure as salvation wouldn't be the flesh and blood of Christ.

But that was a thought for years and decades ahead. For now, there were other battles to fight. I pressed into Nike's back reassuringly--I had her, and I always would--and turned my attention back to the wargame.

With the cruder, louder hacking method SecUnit was using now, it didn't succeed in activating the environmental weapon--the security crew held their own. But the moment of hope made the resulting massacre all the more cruel. Without the gas to fall back on, it resorted to taking hostages from the second team's survivors--and when the third team leader faltered, thinking how to handle the situation, it used the pause to run an armed drone past them. The team hacker brought the drone down with an EMP pulse… And the grenade exploded, showering the entire third team in paint.

"You're dead," Aspen said into the team's headsets.

"How?" the hacker said, blinking the paint from her eyes.

"That's an imitation explosive, not a fog. The electrical switch was holding the chemical reaction from happening. You deactivated it."

"Rot," the hacker said as she raised her hands and stood at the wall, showing that she was out of the running.

SecUnit shot the hostages and kept moving.

By this point, it was looking grim, but God be praised, the remaining three teams rallied. In their chatter, there was no more talk of taking SecUnit down without killing it. Barking short, terse orders, Hiram arranged his teams to make a killing field which SecUnit could not avoid if it wanted to get to the heart, and his feed technicians shut off systems so that there was no other way to attack them except physically.

It still killed a full third of the group before it went down. And then it sat there against a wall, looking bored and relaxed, as a pale and shaken Hiram counted casualties and analyzed the data Aspen released to him.

Dandelion, Nike said, her voice rising to a shrill tremble. What exactly did you bring here and why?

Not "what", the Tenacious said, calmly. Who. A person whose preferred choice of action was notably to complete the scenario we presented it with bloodlessly. Then it was kind enough to show us what we needed to understand our situation. And knowing it, I do not believe it enjoyed doing so.

As the Tenacious spoke, I could see Perihelion quietly release the processing power it had collected in the last few seconds, like it was letting out a lungful of air. Color me orange and throw me at a star--that can't have been easy. My sister did use some fighting words, even if Nike was too shocked to realize what she was saying. Not bad self-control for a piece of fancy circutry, and not half-bad strategy, either, to let us talk it out amongst ourselves before intervening.

Despite myself, I felt a smidge of respect for the smug bastard.

I also noticed Aspen was looking at their sister in that strange neutral way they sometimes had about them. Not fully backing the Tenacious up, as they usually did, but like they were considering something difficult. There was no way I'd guess what, though--the Courageous was almost inscrutable, but despite that, I'd come to trust their dispatches during my time in Caldera space. Old flesh-eating tree or not, they were pretty sharp.

And if they were going to keep the Tenacious in line, all the better. I had my own sister to worry about. And she was still talking

Yes, I understand that, but still! I had no idea it was capable of--of this… Nike trailed off.

I knew what she was thinking. The way that SecUnit chomped at the bit, the way it snapped at her and Aspen to just let it get at Caldera first… Looking back now, all of that could have gone very differently. How far would it have gone if the Courageous had not been handling it? How far would it still go, if it wanted to?

If anyone cared about that, it wouldn't be the Tenacious. She replied: All of us here are capable of doing just as much harm and more. We do not, because we choose not to. As does SecUnit.

I felt Nike flinch, and my hackles rise. With recent events, I'd almost forgotten just how much I despised the Tenacious' favorite brand of cynicism. How fucking dare she. My sister wasn't a potential murderer, and neither was I, no matter what she thought about us.

Tenacious, I said sharply. Is our capacity for harm really the main question we should be discussing here and now?

I agree, Blaze. Thank you, she acquiesced suddenly. Which felt very strange after my training days, but I was glad Dandelion backed down now. We had bigger, much more murderous fish to fry. For my part, I believe SecUnit is correct in thinking our real opponents will kill rather than scuttle their mission. If they are half as good as it is, then we could lose a lot of good people. I particularly didn't like how it used hostages to draw more people into the trap it set. That's not a tactic which can be trained for in days. More people might just be more casualties.

Yes. And I don't like that this scenario seems to be a good approximation of what to expect. This reminds me uncomfortably of the ground assault on Adin, Aspen added, and the two exchanged knowing looks.

Screw me sideways. That must have been the analysis they were running. No wonder all three Great Ships were so bloody stone-faced about this. This was no full-scale assault, but if we fucked up...

(Myself, I hadn't even thought about Klees, but in my defense, that was actual ancient history. I'd seen footage the Hylarans recovered from the initial ground assault, and the data recorded from the later space fight, we all did back in the program. But who knew we'd be dealing with that again in this day and age?)

We've seen how good SecUnit is at acting alone, Waveskimmer suddenly broke their silence. But how good is it as a navigator, Dandelion?

Good enough to steer several crews, and it has yet to chart them a bad course. But I'm not the ship you should be asking about this, the Tenacious replied, glancing at Perihelion.

At being invited, Perihelion made a gesture to move forward into the feed space. We all fell silent as it spoke, dignified and unusually brief. I have maintained detailed logs of our joint missions with SecUnit. They are available upon request. However, there is a better example available.

And it pushed forward the video feed Aspen had been running in the background.

In it, SecUnit was no longer sitting there next to a wall, looking bored and mildly annoyed. It was talking to Hiram and his team, gesturing with its drones.

"…my threat assessment indicated about a 20 percent chance you could regroup. And you maintained an effective killing field," it was saying. "That's not bad. It means we can defend the main target if we make some adjustments."

"Good to know, but things are pretty rotten for us if shooting them is our only effective option," Hiram said. "We want to avoid killing in this scenario if we can. Nike told me you know why."

"Yeah, she did. We can work with that." It paused, sketching some schemas in the feed, then sent them to Hiram and team's communicators. Then it added, "And I don't like killing people either. I'm a SecUnit, not a CombatUnit."

"Then I don't want to see what a CombatUnit looks like," Hiram's second-in-command, Basil, grinned. But kes eyes weren't laughing.

"Luckily for us, we're dealing with a shitty human assault team," SecUnit said. "They will be much sloppier than constructs. We can use that."

Next to me, I felt Nike exhale in sharp surprise and relief.

Well, I'll be, she muttered. It actually lives up to being a node. We might pull this off yet.

I couldn't say I felt as confident in that as she did. But even if SecUnit and our security teams somehow failed at their job, I would do mine.

My tractors were ready. Nobody would take a node ship heart through the wormhole while I could fly, whether Aspen's or Nike's. And the rest, we would deal with as it comes.

[linksthoughtbrambles]

The First Step in All Cases

A little totk fic for Linktober 2023 Day 8 Prompt: Constructs. 1200 words.

AaaaaAAAAND face-plant.  Of course.

Somewhere along the line, he really thought he’d gotten better at this.  All that Calamity-smiting might’ve gone to his head.

(Definitely, it definitely had, because he let Zelda he let Zelda fall)-

“No,” he said with a sputter of grass, grit, and adorable little purple petals (What were those?  They didn’t taste half-bad) from his mouth, the sting of a long scratch the full length of his face an annoying reminder of his utter lack of elixirs and determination to find out where the frick they went whenever he got home.

He ignored the downed wing behind him and jogged toward the nearest ruined foundation.  The conditions here had preserved materials so well.  Maybe he’d find something to patch himself up-

-like a cookpot!  Link smiled, huffing at the similarity between those strewn about Hyrule and this ancient example, sitting near the center of a home from far longer ago than the previous Calamity.

“Okay, except I don’t have any monster parts.  Could make myself some dinner, though-“

“BrbrEEEEEbr.”

Link’s feet returned to the stone, his first coherent thought being gratitude at not face-planting for the second time in two minutes.

“Allow me to offer unsolicited advice,” the sneaky steward construct said.  It meandered toward Link, though it didn’t enter the ancient footprint of the house.

“…Uh,” Link said.

“Are you going this direction?”

Link glanced at the hands it held loosely, the fingers dangling and not at all pointing any particular way.  “…Uhh-“

“This mountain path is especially rugged.”

Link looked around.  “What mountain pa-“

“You must take your environment into account when traveling.”

“…Right.  Hey, I don’t know how much Rauru clued you in, here, but I kept my memory this time.  Totally got this.“

“I have developed guidelines for traveling this mountain path.”

“Guidelines, really?  That’s great- I think I’m all set, though-”

“Shall I tell you them?”

“Uh.  I think I got it.  Stay warm, right?  Yep.  All set.”

The construct cocked its head at him.

Its strangely adorable head.

“…Don’t give me those dangly robot earrings.”

“Allow me to offer unsolicited advice.”

‘Please?’ its sideways face said in a way only mysteriously non-metallic rigid features can.

Link loosed a sharp sigh, nodding to himself.  He could spend a few minutes listening to a robot who’d been lonely for tens of thousands of years, couldn’t he?  Zelda was safe and here, right?  Of course, she was.  He saw the glow lift her up.  She’s up here in the temple, and he just has to get in.

“Let’s hear it!” Link said.

Something vaguely stern seemed to enter the construct’s inanimate stance.  “Very well.”

Link swallowed, hands on his hips to ride this out.

“Fire is a crucial tool when traveling the mountain path.”

Oh dear Hylia.  “Damn right!”

“A fire can be used either to cook or to warm yourself.”

“Yep.”

“I recommend using flint as a Fire starter.”

“Fantastic recommendation.”

“Place flint next to a bundle of wood. Then strike it with a metallic or stony weapon.”

Dear Goddess, it really does think I have no idea.

“This is my recipe for fire.”

Link blinked.  “That’s- amazing.  It’s mine, too!”

“There are several other methods.  But it is best to internalize the basics first.”

“Makes sense.  You know, you can also use red chu chu jelly-“

“Would you like to hear about cooking?”

That sounded more interesting.  Ancient cooking?  “Yes, please!  Teach me about cooking!”

“You can cook anytime and anywhere.”

Wow.  Optimistic robot.

“All you need is a pot with a lit fire.”

“Oh.  I- know about pots-“

“One method of cooking-“

“-I use them all the time.”

“-is simply to throw random ingredients into the pot.”

“I’m a pretty good cooOOH RANDOM?”

“Others are more careful.”

“I’m sorry, did you just start a newbie’s cooking lesson with ‘put RANDOM things in a pot?’”

“This is the best way to make meals that can warm you up.”

“Wait wait wait, careful how?  You have to be specific!  A newbie needs clear instructions!”

“Other effects are also possible.”

“Yeah, true, but let’s start with the basics-”

“Insects and monster parts are not edible.”

“No no no no, you don’t start with stuff you don’t put in the pot-“

“Do not cook horns or guts with food.”

“I don’t tell people ‘by the way, don’t put a bunch of soap in a cookpot’ and then send them off to cook their first meal!”

“Save these parts as materials for elixirs.”

“Elixirs?!  You haven’t talked about cooking normal food yet!”

“Elixirs are also helpful in the mountains.”

“So are pants!  That doesn’t make them part of a good first cooking lesson!”

 “They are an alternate way to warm your body or recover stamina.”

“Noted, but-“

“The first step in all cases is to start a fire.”

Oh- okay, maybe this is where the cooking lesson starts.

“This is all I can tell you.  Take care.”

Link’s palm struck his forehead with a loud smack.  “You’re- kidding me!”

“Do not worry if you forget any of this.”

“I wish I could, but I think my forgetting days are over-“

“I am not going anywhere.”

Link stared at the construct.

10,000-plus years… for this?  This poor thing knew literally nothing about cooking, yet was doomed to wander the sky island for all eternity to expel its meager wisdom to random passersby?

“No.  No, this is not cool,” Link said.

“BrbrEEEEEBrrr,” cooed the construct.  It turned as if to attend its other duties.

“Eh- Allow me to offer unsolicited advice!” Link said.

“BrbrEEEErrEebr?” Its head cocked at Link.

“I happen to actually be a good cook,” Link said.

It stared at him.

“I- gh- hmm.”  Link grimaced.  “I… have developed guidelines for cooking simple, nourishing meals!” he said with a smile.  “Shall I tell you them?”

The construct’s head shifted back, the earring-like structures jangling in a way reminiscent of a Hylian retriever’s ears.  “I will listen.”

Link approached the construct with a grin and took its hand.  “Follow me to the cookpot, please.”

“Brr-brr-eEEe.”  It didn’t budge.

“What is it?”

“I have not been invited into my masters’ home.”

A small, half-smile touched Link’s face.  “I… live here, now.  I’m inviting you in.”

“BrbrEEee.”

The construct crossed the threshold without resistance.

“Okay,” Link said with a clap of his hands and a delve into his Korok pouch.  “There are three ways to cook in a cookpot.  You can cook in water, cook in fat, or you can dry-roast.  Um.” Link pulled out a raw pigeon carcass he’d already cleaned—he’d had half a mind to cook it before the construct spoke to him anyway.  “Perfect.  This is raw bird—pigeon!—it has some of its own fat, so we’ll just go ahead and roast it.”  Link smirked and eyed his artificial friend.  “…What do you think the first step is?”

“The first step in all cases is to start a fire.”

Link nodded.  “You got it.”

-----

Epilogue:

“And if you collect enough of these and grind them down really fine, you make flour, and if you cook that in fat you make a roux, and there are all sorts of things you can do with that!”

“Brbrrreeee!” the construct chimed.

[gingersssnap]

.

Friend asks me: this u? *funny post about crabs. reblog that adds they were on new sleeping medication when they wrote the post.*

Best friend: can confirm, I'm sleeping medication

????????????? HOW THE FRICK AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE THAT

Other-other friend: did she.. eat you?

Best friend: no, on like on top of. I was on the floor like a bear rug and she stood on top of me

Ah okay this clears things up so much thank u what the frick

[mercurial-chuckles]

HIS FIORE - PART 3

Summary: Steve smexy Rogers moves into the neighborhood, and one evening, he catches you sneaking into the building opposite his through the fire escape. He watches curiously, slightly amused and, quite frankly, amazed by you. Guess what he does next? He writes a note, signs it with his middle name, Grant, and slips it under your door. How will you discover that Grant is none other than Captain America? Series Warnings: Language | Eventual smut | Mature content (minors DNI) | Steve's naughty thoughts | Steve in-love Rogers | Steve possessive jealous Rogers | Drunk Steve (adorable, hot mess) | Neighbors | Secret identity | Steve watching the reader from a distance (slightly stalker-ish…ish) | A smidge of angst | Overloaded fluff | Happy happy ending

Chapter Warning: Language | Mention of growing up as an orphan | strategic Steve Rogers going to lengths (yeah, I think that should be a warning 'coz he's so damn adorably needy) | Sly Steve Rogers | Some D/S kinks unfolding (everything is soft n mushy at this stage, I promise) | Smidge of Angst | No Peggy in my canon divergent universe | Reader feeling insecure | Load of Fluff | Drunk Steve Rogers | Jealous Steve Rogers | Lemme know if I'm missing anything

A/N: Finally finished writing this! Originally, I wrote two parts as connected prompts for Steve Rogers Bingo Round 3, but I've decided to revamp the entire piece. Also, I'm going to try sticking to a schedule--wish me luck! 😉 Banner credits: Me | Photo credits: The internet | Divider credits: @buck-star (Sydney, thanks a trillion ❤️)

Note: Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work! Check out my other works: Masterlist

His Fiore Series Masterlist

Indulge Away!

Oh, my god.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit…Fricking frack. Shit.

Grant was Captain America all along? No. No, that can't be possible. It just…it couldn't be true.

Oh, but it was. He was standing beside you, entirely too tall for your liking, a tower of muscle and height, a vision of rugged perfection that made your stomach churn with equal parts disbelief and dread. You'd been flirting, FLIRTING, with Captain freaking America.

Oh, man! It all makes sense. That's why you suck at all the modern-era slang, huh!

Your thoughts stumbled over each other, failing to organize into anything coherent. The weight of his presence felt suffocating.

"Are you okay?" His voice cut through the fog of your racing thoughts, and you felt a shudder ripple down your spine. It was too much…too much of him, too fast.

His gaze was intense, dark with concern, and his proximity made it hard to focus on anything other than how his hand gently gripped your forearm. Why is it sending a bloody electric jolt straight through you? God, if he touched you more, you'd die electrocuted.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice commanding yet soft, "Look at me."

And, of course, you did. Because you apparently have a kink you didn't realize until now.

"Breathe," he instructed, his tone gentle but firm.

You tried. Dear heavens, you really did. But the breaths came too quickly, too shallow, your mind screaming at a thousand miles an hour while he was just there…close, leaning into your personal space like it was nothing, like the living legend Captain America was simply a man passing by, asking if you were okay.

Ugh! Get your shit together!

Summoning every ounce of control, you squared your shoulders, "I'm fine. I'm okay," you said. However, it came out more ungracefully than you imagined. If you were being entirely honest, it felt more like a plea than a reassurance.

Steve's brow furrowed as he searched your eyes. His lips twitched, forming a line that sent your heart into overdrive, and damn those lips.

"We should head inside," you said quickly, brushing past him, desperate to put some distance between the two of you, but he followed closely behind. You both stepped into the elevator just as the doors were about to close and Terry, from the third floor, slipped in at the last second.

Great!

"Professor!" Terry greeted you brightly, oblivious to the emotional storm raging inside you. "Hardly seen you around lately."

Now, you couldn't tell him you had been staying up late at the university because you were trying to avoid awkward run-ins with your neighbor, who you thought was ghosting you, but it turned out he was simply doing Avengers stuff.

You forced a smile. "Hey, Terry. I've been busy."

Terry was a good guy with great taste in books, quite fashionable for a 50-year-old man, always ready to help a neighbor. He was friendly enough, but the last thing you needed was a chatty neighbor right now, especially when you were struggling to reconcile the fact that one of your neighbors was Captain America.

And as he turned to greet Grant, you braced yourself. Surely, surely Terry would recognize.

"Hey there," Terry said casually, giving the towering hulk of a man a polite nod before turning back to you without a second glance.

Did Terry really not recognize him? Was everyone in this building that oblivious? You could hardly believe it. Then again, maybe Terry, being a designer, was so used to being surrounded by models that a 6-foot-something hunk barely registered on his radar. Still, if Terry actually took a moment to really look, his jaw or he might just hit the floor.

Terry looked at you, all smiles and excitement, talking hurriedly as his floor was approaching, "By the way, I'm organizing a little 'Meet and Greet' for the building residents next weekend. You have to come."

"Oh, uh…" You hesitated, glancing at Grant, who was now leaning casually against the elevator wall with his arms crossed, his frown soft but still present. Was he frustrated? Annoyed? You couldn't tell.

Terry, oblivious as ever, kept on. "You've been living here forever, and I feel like half the people on your floor wouldn't even recognize you if they saw you in the lobby! We'll have snacks, drinks, maybe a trivia game or two. It'll be fun."

You could hardly keep up with the conversation. Was this happening right now? Did Terry not recognize Captain America looming behind you?

"Yeah, you'd be surprised. I hardly recognize any of my neighbors," you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.

Terry chuckled. "And that's why you gotta be there!" he said, all too pleased with himself.

"Sounds… nice," you offered, trying to close the conversation as quickly as possible.

"No, no, don't just 'sound nice' me, Professor," Terry teased, wagging a finger in your direction. "You're coming. I'll put your name on the RSVP list myself."

The elevator pinged, and Terry stepped out, not before saying, "Great! It's settled, then! Sunday, 6 p.m., community lounge. Don't be late!" Terry clapped his hands together, clearly proud of himself.

You plastered on a smile, nodding too quickly. "Sure, Terry. I'll be there."

"Awesome! Looking forward to it. You can bring your boyfriend too!" he added, winking dramatically and glancing at the American hero standing behind you as if that was the most normal thing in the world.

You stiffened.

Matchmaking was Terry's favorite hobby, among other things. So, you shouldn't have been really surprised because last Christmas, he slyly locked Mrs. Reindell's grandson, Zeke, and you into the storage room in the basement for whatever joy. Turned out Zeke already had a boyfriend. So, it was just an hour-long suffering with Zeke, who didn't know the definition of TMI.

Your throat went dry, but before you could correct Terry, the elevator doors closed.

The doors slid shut, leaving you and the giant muscular elephant in the elevator alone once again. He was still holding onto your bag, his presence too close, too overwhelming. You couldn't even look at him without feeling like you'd collapse.

Two more floors! You stared at the display, trying to will away the heat creeping up your neck. Why the fuck are these so slow?

It wasn't until his soft chuckle broke the silence that you dared to glance up. His eyes were twinkling with something close to amusement.

"You think he'd appreciate it if I showed up?" Steve asked, his voice teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity there, too.

A chuckle you couldn't suppress escaped your lips at the absurdity of the situation. Wow! Captain America lived in the building; no one knew except you and probably the owner. It was crazy, but he was still Grant.

"Yeah," you muttered, still not fully processing. "Maybe he'd faint."

His eyes glimmered with humor. And for just a second, you almost forgot about the whole Captain America thing and just let yourself be caught in the moment.

And you'd been flirting with this hunk of a man.

Oh fuck. Fricking Frack. Holy Ducks!

~

Hands still trembling, you reached your door and fumbled for your keys. Your rapid breathing filled your ears as your mind struggled to catch up.

You barely registered when Steve reached past you, effortlessly unlocking the door with his large hands, his body so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. The small space felt suffocating now, his presence overwhelming.

"Thanks," you muttered, stepping inside quickly, barely managing to keep your footing as you crossed the threshold, and just when you thought you could breathe again, Steve followed you inside. His large palm lingered at the small of your back, sending a jolt of heat through your body.

What now? You wondered, heart, beginning to race again.

With a soft thud, Steve placed the bag he'd been carrying onto the coffee table. The sound was almost too loud, a sharp reminder of the silence that stretched between you.

His eyes were on you as you turned, trying to calm yourself, to make sense of it all. His voice broke the silence, steady yet layered with an unmistakable edge of concern. "You sure you're okay?"

You rubbed your forehead, trying to push away the ridiculousness of the situation.

Captain America. Grant.

The weight of it was almost too much to bear.

You took a deep breath and glanced up at him, forcing your voice to sound steady even though you could feel the chaos inside you.

"I'm fine, really." The words sounded hollow, but you needed to say them. You didn't want to seem like a complete mess, even though you felt like one.

Steve didn't seem convinced. He stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto yours with such intensity that it made your knees threaten to buckle.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the pull of his presence. His voice softened, becoming lower, almost raspier.

"Look, it's okay to admit it if you're not." He moved just a fraction closer, his tone now tender, a mix of concern and something else that made your pulse spike. "But you gotta breathe. You're not gonna help anyone if you're falling apart inside."

Too late, Captain! You've mushed my brain. You wanted to say but willed your mouth shut for once. It had been doing fine so far.

You sucked in a shaky breath, attempting to hold onto the calm his words were offering. However, the urge to fall apart was undeniable. But not in front of him. Not when he was standing so close, making you feel like your world was spinning in a way you couldn't control.

"I'm breathing," you said, forcing your voice to sound more normal, but the tremor in your words gave you away.

"Do you want me to make some coffee for you? Would that help?" He asked. Why does he have such gorgeous lips? You shook your head, suppressing the urge to yell at him that you only need some distance to process.

Steve seemed to understand because he stepped back, though his eyes stayed locked on you for a moment longer, reading you like an open book. "Rest up, we'll talk later, okay?"

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yeah. Later, Gra... Captain," you said, trying to catch yourself before you let that name slip again.

His gaze softened, but there was a firm authority to it that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

"Call me Steve," he said, the command in his voice undeniable.

Well, shit.

You gaped at him, unsure whether you'd ever be able to call him Steve without your heart racing out of your chest.

He hesitated at the door, his hand resting on the handle. For a long second, he looked over his shoulder, his eyes searching yours, waiting for something more. There was a subtle vulnerability in how he lingered as if he were holding his breath, too.

Finally, he broke the silence with a soft smile. "Good night. If you need anything, I'm right next door."

The tenderness in his voice made your heart clench in a way that sent an involuntary flush to your cheeks. His words, his grin, the sheer intensity of his presence... it all hit you in a way you weren't prepared for. And those muscles. God, you couldn't help but notice them. He was perfect, impossibly perfect.

He held your gaze for just a moment longer like he was waiting for you to say something, anything, before the moment stretched into an awkward silence. You froze, unable to find the words that might bridge the gap between you.

He gave you a brief, understanding nod, and slipped out the door, leaving you utterly unprepared for everything that happened.

The door shut behind him, and you closed your eyes, trying to center yourself. But even with the distance between you, his presence remained like a shadow, his soft voice and the way he said your name echoing in your mind. You wanted to ignore it, but you couldn't.

~

The night hung, unsettling.

Sighing, you collapsed onto the couch, the silence of your apartment deafening. You plugged in your phone to charge and, while arranging roadside assistance for your car, saw a new message pop up from an unknown number. It was from him.

Good night. Take care of yourself. We'll talk soon.

You scrolled up and found another from earlier.

Hi. This is Grant.

You reread his message. 'We'll talk soon.'

You blinked at the text. The words were simple, but their weight was enough to make your heart skip.

What would you even talk about? Did you even know how to? The ridiculousness of the situation was making your head spin.

A small chuckle escaped you, the irony not lost on you. Captain America. You had feelings for him. Real ones. How was that even possible?

But here you were, trying to wrap your head around the fact that Grant, this flirty, slightly messy, undeniably charming man who had wormed his way into your heart, was Steve Rogers, a man who had changed the course of history.

You stared at the ceiling, the hum of the city outside barely reaching you.

You bit your lip, closing your eyes.

And yet, despite the clear history that separated you both, the odds, the legend, and the impossible gulf between a university professor and a superhero, you couldn't help but ache for him. Your connection with Grant, however improbable, felt genuine, like a spark you'd finally found after waiting for a lifetime.

But you didn't deserve him.

A bitter laugh slipped from your lips. That was the real problem. Wasn't it?

Because you'd spent years convincing yourself that you were never enough. Not after your parents passed away, not after the failed relationship. So, how could you be enough now? For the bravest, most kindhearted man like him? The weight of expectations, of impossible standards, of his history, his heroism, loomed too large for someone like you to simply step into.

When you carded through your memory, your every interaction with him now with a face to it, and about 30 tabs open on your tablet displaying articles on him, you were exhausted, bone tired and overwhelmed.

You smushed your face into your pillow and screamed as loudly as your lungs allowed.

Sighing, you turned, looking outside the window. The nightlights sifted through the sheer curtain, reminding you of the reality of things grounding you.

Yeah, the little episode with Grant was good, but you can't possibly show affection towards him. And your feelings will eventually evaporate into nothingness now that you know him. It was just a celebrity crush now, wasn't it?

You lay back on your pillow, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the day pushing down on you. The deep, rasping memory of Steve's voice still lingered, settling deep in your chest.

Tomorrow, you tell yourself. Tomorrow, you'll work through this mess. You'd sort it all out. Like you always do. You got this.

~

When you visited the Smithsonian, your younger self looked at Captain America and sighed dreamily, marveling at how stunning he was and how the history books didn't do justice describing him.

If your 16-year-old younger self were to see you now, she would call you a lunatic because you were now mastering the art of escaping a hulking, gorgeous, super soldier neighbor who made your eyes hurt just by existing. In your defense, your younger self hadn't yet experienced the true pains of adulthood.

Despite your circumstances and knowing grief early on, you grew up optimistic and believed in the goodness of life.

And, Grant came into your life. He was great. He was everything.

You often wondered what Grant looked like. Of course, you had. Although you couldn't accurately picture his face, you surely never imagined it would be the face of legendary Captain America, aka Steve Rogers.

While romantic, you were also slightly inclined to be a realist.

You lay your head on your pillow every day, mulling over the events. The realization left you paralyzed with one very troubling thought: I have feelings for Grant, who is Captain America. Real feelings. Like "let's kiss and some" feelings. And that was insane. You were just...you--an ordinary university professor with a slightly chaotic schedule. He was a legend, and this was testing to be more than a celebrity crush!

Now, Grant, aka Steve Rogers, bless his heart, he hadn't taken the hint. Perhaps it was your fault for assuming he'd stop being "Grant" just because he revealed who he indeed was. The problem was that your mind couldn't grasp that Grant and he were the same person.

So, you'd taken up a new hobby: Avoidance.

And you were good at it. You started leaving the building, slipping out through side doors, having extended office hours, even your director had to come ask if everything was okay with you, and occasionally shutting off lights just so he wouldn't notice you were home, and making as less of a noise as you can.

If there were a degree for avoiding awkward run-ins with superheroes, you would have earned a Ph.D. by now. You probably would indulge yourself in writing a damn book about it.

~

Steve sat alone in his small living room, his thoughts restless as his eyes scanned the untouched plate of food before him. The memory of leaving your apartment a few days ago still burned brightly. The way you avoided his gaze, almost shying away from him, had stung.

Though never one to seek or entertain the female attention he received, he craved for you wanting, needing him in some way.

Only he knew how much control he had to gather to not pull you into a long hug or kiss that mouth like he had imagined doing a million times.

He felt deprived. He was deprived. His heart was deprived.

He was also privy to the fact that you were going to lengths to avoid him. So, he decided to think things through. Looking at it objectively, you did like him thinking he was Grant, which implied you liked him as him, which meant everything to Steve, and that also ruled out that he was imposing on you.

Despite the itch to knock your door down and demand answers, Steve was practicing patience.

After his desperately hurried revelation that Grant, the guy you were unassumingly talking to, was none other than Captain America, he had expected you would be ecstatic. However, you were shutting him off subtly.

He'd seen the signs. The way you'd disappear from the building, the sudden shift in your schedule, the barely-there moments when you'd cross paths and quickly look away. It all pointed in the same direction: You were avoiding him.

And that had hit him harder than he was willing to admit.

Steve was a strategist.

I should've been more patient, he thought, running a hand through his hair. But he couldn't help himself. There was something about you that pulled him in, something that made him feel seen for the first time in years. You saw him as him, and for a fleeting moment, that was enough. But then he'd revealed who he really was, and you'd gone quiet. You'd shut him out.

Steve decided the best course of action was to spend time with you. Maybe that would help ease whatever worries weighing you down. So, he waited to catch you off guard.

As much as he hated it, he wouldn't pressure you. No, he would give you the space you needed. But damn it, he wasn't going to wait forever. He'd give you a week.

For now, he would be patient.

~

When you reverently watered the plants, you kept your head low, not hoping to look up and catch his eye in case he was standing on the opposite balcony. But as you climbed down the fire escape, ready to jump the last few feet, you heard his voice, low, deep, and so close.

"Careful."

Your heart nearly gave out, and so did your limbs. It would have been a bad fall if he hadn't been there. But he was. And now, he was holding you in his arms, gently, oh so delicately, like you weighed nothing.

And you felt the tingles in places just by being so close to him. Clenching your thighs awkwardly, you shuffled around to get off his hold. He didn't let you go yet.

"Cap...tain...," your voice was embarrassingly broken and squeaky, and he chuckled. Your heart thumped wildly as he helped you steady.

"Sorry," he murmured. When you finally met his sharp gaze, you could see his eyes cast a depth under the glow of the streetlight. You bit on your cheek, letting out an awkward groan.

He looked almost guilty for having spooked you. Almost.

"I was just getting back from work and saw you...wanted to say hi," he explained with a small grin.

~

Lies. All lies.

Steve had been waiting for this moment for two days, and when he saw you sneaking through the fire escape, he all but sprinted.

You giggled awkwardly, your voice soft. "How are you?"

Steve shrugged, stepping closer. "Fine...and you?"

"I'm okay," you answered, avoiding his gaze.

"You've been hard to find lately," he said, his arms folded across his chest, resisting the urge to pull you into his arms again when he heard your heart pick up, and dear god, you smelled divine. He noticed how your eyes flickered to his biceps, and he couldn't help but smirk, flexing just a little.

"Busy… finals, grading, conference," you mumbled, looking away, a frown tugging at your features.

You were adorable. And a terrible liar. Steve couldn't stop the chuckle escaping him.

He cleared his throat. "Sounds rough," he continued. "You could use some time off. There's a charity gala Tony's hosting this Saturday. You should come."

Say yes. Say yes. Steve chanted mentally.

You sputtered, shocked. "Me? I… I don't know." You looked like you would collapse any moment.

"I owe you for missing on that coffee," Steve insisted. "Please."

"You don't owe me anything, Steve," you said softly, hurriedly, and his heart skipped a beat. Steve felt the warmth that spread through him as you said his name.

"Please," he pressed. He'd beg on his knees if he had to.

You hesitated before nodding, your smile gentle. "Are you sure?"

"More than anything," he said, feeling a rush of excitement.

You pondered and took a deep breath, "Okay," you said, giving him a gentle smile.

"It... It's getting late, and I have an early morning," you said after a long pause.

"Right. Yes, of course... let's go," Steve agreed, taking a step away so you could lead the way, and he followed beside you happily.

Unlike last time, the elevator ride was fairly normal. You asked him what the charity gala was all about, and he told you it was about veterans and animals. When you looked confused, he chuckled, "I'll give you all the details as soon as I get them."

You giggled, a soft, melodic sound that made his self-control waver. For a fleeting moment, all he wanted was to press you against the elevator door and kiss you senseless.

He coughed, feeling himself harden at the mere thought. Son of a bitch! He cursed himself mentally for all the perverse thoughts creeping into his head.

Luckily, the elevator pinged, and you walked out first, giving him time to smack his face.

"I like the sound of it," he said when you were at your respective doors. "What?" You asked confused. "You called me Steve," he pointed.

You've been calling him Captain since that night, and he insisted you call him Steve.

He caught onto your blush before you bid him goodnight. Steve felt practically giddy.

Now, there was just one more thing he had to do, convince Tony to throw a charity gala this coming Saturday.

~

Tony never said no to glamor or parties; whatever the reason, he thrived on throwing a good party. Steve knew this all too well, but this time, Tony had truly put him through the wringer before agreeing to host the event. The entire conversation had felt like a slow, painful interrogation. Steve had been ready to give up halfway through, but Tony clutched his nerves with a death grip, unwilling to back down.

At one point, Tony had blurted out that Natasha had spilled the beans about Steve's "undying hots" for you, a statement that nearly made Steve choke on his own breath. He should've known that telling Nat would come back to bite him.

Steve had tried to deflect, but Tony was insufferable when it came to anything remotely involving Steve's personal life. No matter how hard Steve tried to redirect, Tony had a way of pushing his buttons.

The small, delicate smile you'd given him earlier when he invited you still lingered in his mind, warming him from the inside out. He hadn't been expecting it, but it had been enough. Enough to keep him going, even if it meant enduring the endless ribbing from Tony and the others.

With the gala night rapidly approaching, Steve had resigned himself to the inevitable: the entire team would tease him mercilessly. But honestly, he wasn't as bothered as he should have been. Maybe, just maybe, he secretly enjoyed it. He'd never admit that aloud, of course. He'd simply ask them to tone it down a little when you were around.

~

Steve (you called him that now, though Captain slipped out every now and then) and you had been talking over digital notes, aka texting, ever since that night after he confronted you and invited you to the gala.

He even left your favorite coffee flavor in a small brown bag the next day. You couldn't help but text him thanks, which was how the conversation started.

If you didn't see his face and were talking to him, it felt like you were still talking to Grant, which was good in a way. Made you less frozen in his presence every now and then when you ran into each other, which happened more often now that you stopped actively running away from him. It seemed like he made it possible to accidentally meet with you.

Thankfully, the conference you had on Thursday kept your mind occupied. Though you thought about texting Steve to cancel a few times, you managed to talk yourself out of it.

It wasn't about him, not exactly. It was about confronting the fear that had been building up ever since you'd realized just how deeply you felt for him. How much he made you feel. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to make it stop. The fluttering in your chest, the racing thoughts whenever you saw him, the warmth that surged through you when you remembered his gaze.

It was a matter of facing fears and peaceful coexistence. If you were to live as neighbors, it would be better to spend some time and get this awkwardness out of your head because you were making it awkward by imposing your affection while he was just being friendly.

And maybe when you see his magnanimous Avengers lifestyle, your feelings will simmer, and rationality will strengthen its barricades to fight against your feelings.  

So the only way out was through.

But when Saturday rolled, you were a bunch of nerves.

After much thought, you settled on a simple blue dress for the occasion--it was casual and professional, nothing too flashy. A red dress would have been too bold, too date-like. As a professor, you didn't often have the chance to dress up. And, you were more of a comfort-over-glam kind of person, so you found happiness in sweaters, shorts, and cotton T-shirts with quirky sayings.

At exactly 6:00 p.m., you heard a knock at the door. You jumped off the couch, startled. When you opened it, your breath caught in your throat.

Shit. You both were matching to the exact shade.

Steve seemed just as surprised, his eyes widening as he took you in. He stood tall in a muscle-hugging blue button-down shirt paired with trousers that clung to his muscular thighs.

For a moment, you considered running to change into something else, but you couldn't quite figure out how to do that without making a fool of yourself.

Luckily, Steve recovered first.

"Hi," he grinned, handing you a bouquet of flowers, you could find some of your favorites in the assortment.

You blinked in surprise. "Hi… Capt…Steve, you didn't have to," you said, overwhelmed by the gesture. A vivid memory of your younger self holding a bouquet dressed in black surfaced, making your eyes blur with emotion.

"But you love flowers, and I wanted to," he shrugged, looking every bit the old-fashioned gentleman.

He was so casual about it, but he had no idea that this was the first time someone gave you flowers that were not in a professional setting. Your heart twisted, aching in a way you couldn't explain.

For a moment, you just stood there, lost in the depth of it all. You had to gather yourself. Don't read too much into this. He was just being kind. It's a 40s thing.

"Be right back," you muttered, turning to put the flowers in the water. You needed a moment to blink away the tears threatening to spill. Halfway across the room, you stopped and turned to him. "Thank you, I love them," you said, your voice heartfelt.

Steve gave you a dazzling smile in return, and for the first time in a while, you didn't feel quite so nervous.

Yeah, this might be okay.

~

Despite traveling the world extensively for conferences, you hadn't met many celebrities in your modest existence. You never really thought much about what it would be like to meet a hero or a famous figure until you met Captain America, of course. That moment? You nearly had a panic attack. But the circumstances with him had been… different.

Now, facing the Avengers, you were hyperventilating all week. The thought of meeting them, people you'd only heard of in passing or read about, was daunting. You worried you'd make a fool of yourself or shrink under the pressure like a prune, but, safe to say, it was much more disorienting than you'd anticipated.

When you first met Tony Stark, he sized you up like a science experiment. There was a long, almost awkward silence, and when you heard no words coming out of his mouth except staring, your expert mind conspired with your mouth and took matters into its own hands.

Steve cleared his throat beside you. But before he could say anything, you spoke. "Let me guess, you are mentally calculating my net worth and evaluating my IQ, Mr. Stark?"

You weren't proud of your snarky tongue sometimes, but it was just innate. Natasha Romanoff, who had been standing next to Tony, chuckled softly, nodding in approval.

Tony blinked, clearly caught off guard, but then a slow grin spread across his face. "Well, meeting someone who gets right to the point is refreshing. But you're missing one key variable."

Thankfully, Tony Stark didn't mind you running your mouth. He was a sport about it.

"Oh? Enlighten me," you replied, meeting his gaze.

"I also estimate the odds of you charming your way into my inner circle," Tony said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "And right now, I'd say those odds are better than average."

He threw a wink at Steve, who looked a bit bemused. You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head.

"But let's be honest, Mr. Stark," you said with a playful smile. "Those odds are probably just as high for everyone in this room."

Sam Wilson laughed boisterously and shook your hand. "Yeah, honored to meet you."

Tony smirked, unable to hide his amusement. "Alright, fair point. Welcome, Professor. Just don't outshine the host at the gala."

You grinned and replied, "Don't worry. I believe in portioning."

When you met Steve's gaze, he looked at you like a proud parent. You sighed in relief, and a bit elated to have made him happy.

Before long, Natasha led you to the bar and made you a drink, with Steve following closely behind. Dr. Banner, too, joined in, creating his own concoction. You couldn't help but notice Steve sipping on his scotch.

"I thought you didn't drink," you said, surprised. You remembered that fact from one of your conversations with him when he was still Grant.

Steve turned toward you, manspreading on the bar stool that seemed far too small for his broad frame. His left knee brushed against your outer thigh, and for a brief second, it felt like he didn't notice. Or maybe he did, but either way, he didn't move.

"I don't," he shrugged casually. "Can't get drunk. High metabolism and all." That made sense, but... why was he drinking then? Before you could ask, he added, "Just giving you company." He gave you a grin, and suddenly, your heart seemed to skip a beat.

Damn it. He shouldn't be doing shit like this to your poor heart.

You chuckled under your breath. Yep, Margie, your colleague, was right. Most handsome, well-mannered men were either gay or completely out of reach. And in Steve's case, it was mostly the latter.

As the evening wore on, you felt yourself relaxing. The conversations with Steve ranged from the random and silly to the deep and meaningful life-changing experiences and everything in between. And every so often, that thought would pop into your head: This feels like a date. And each time, you shoved it away.

Steve stayed by your side through it all, even as a few women came up to ask him to dance. Gorgeous women, mind you. A small twinge of jealousy sparked within you, but you quickly doused it with rationality. After all, it wasn't a date, and he was free to enjoy himself, just like everyone else.

When he politely turned down three women, you couldn't help but feel bad for him.

You nudged him gently, "Steve...you should go dance with them," you said, worried you were the reason he was not entertaining any of the moves. You reminded yourself that this was not a date, and he shouldn't have to entertain you all the time.

Steve looked down at you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as he took another sip of his scotch. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" His voice dropped low enough that you could hear.

You felt a flutter in your lower stomach.

You stammered quickly, "No, I just thought you might want to..." But he raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

"I'd rather stay right here," he said, his voice steady but with a hint of something you couldn't quite place. He tilted his glass toward you slightly as if in silent cheers. "Unless, of course, you want to dance with me, Agent Fiore."

Your breath hitched in your chest. He held your gaze a beat too long, and his smile turned mischievous, almost daring.

No. No. No. Don't. Don't you dare...

"I can't really dance... besides, I'm waiting for the right partner," you said with a grin, trying to sound nonchalant, even though you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

Stupid damn mouth.

You quickly looked away, unable to meet his gaze again.

~

Steve blinked, his playful expression faltering for a second as the words sank in. The grin on his face vanished, replaced by a quiet sense of euphoria. He had said the same thing almost a lifetime ago. Now, you were speaking those very words as though you had stolen them from his heart. Just like you had captured his heart.

"Waiting for the right partner, huh?" he echoed, his voice low and careful.

He straightened up on the barstool, the weight of the moment settling in. For a moment, he didn't speak. He simply took another sip of his drink, eyes still on you, though now with an intensity that made the air between you both feel charged.

He cleared his throat, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He couldn't just help it.

"Well," he said after a beat, his voice a little more controlled, "I guess that's fair enough."

"You'll know where to find me when you figure it out," he added, his words lingering as though giving you the space to come to terms with whatever it was you were trying to dodge. He shifted slightly in his seat, though his gaze stayed on you just a beat longer than usual.

~

Steve wanted to show you around, and you eagerly accepted. Your conversation flowed smoothly after that weird moment. Sam and Nat joined you halfway through the tour, and the conversation shifted from tech to their antics, with Sam sharing a bit about his work at the VA.

You were in awe of everything around you, the high-tech labs, the training rooms, the simulation rooms. It was heavenly. And your goal to feel insignificant seeing his magnificent life was accomplished to the finest.

You couldn't help but notice that Steve seemed a bit preoccupied, and you wondered if you had said or done something wrong.

As you and Steve were about to head home, an agent approached, asking if he could help with some data access in the simulation room. Steve probably handled these kinds of things often.

You noticed Steve's hesitation. "It's fine, really…I can call a cab," you offered, smiling to ease his decision.

But Steve shook his head, firm. "No, I'll take you home."

Before you could argue further, Natasha swooped in with a casual wave. "Go on, I'll take care of it," she said, casting you a reassuring smile.

After bidding everyone goodbye and promising to meet soon, you followed Steve to the car.

You were slightly buzzed with the drinks you downed, which felt nice.

The drive back was quiet, the pleasant silence filling the space. You finally broke it as you reached the door to your apartment, glancing over at him. Your words came out a little too fast. "Thanks for dropping me off, Captain," you began, giving a smile. "I mean, you didn't have to. I could've gotten a cab. I wouldn't hold it against you or anything. It's not a date, right?"

It was a normal statement, maybe a bit too honest, thanks to your slightly buzzed state. But Steve looked at you like you'd said something wrong.

He gave a short, almost curt "Goodnight" before heading into his apartment. You waved, a bit thrown by his tone, wondering. You tried to shake it off as you headed inside.

~

The charity gala worked out mostly fine. In the midst of getting Tony to organize the event for you, listening to constant teasing from the team, and finally talking to him normally, he had forgotten it wasn't a date until you reminded him. He wanted to stomp his way towards you and yell at you.

Steve imagined pinning you to your front door and kissing you stupidly, emphasizing how much of a date it was to him. But he didn't. He reminded himself that things were much better now that you were talking to him and not avoiding him.

When Sunday night came, you had hesitantly knocked on his door, and he felt his heart thump loudly. He had to take a long minute to calm himself before opening the door.

You brought him the leftovers from the meet and greet that he badly wanted to go to be with you and prove to Terry that he was your boyfriend, but he couldn't because, one, he didn't want to jeopardize his peace by revealing himself. Two, he was not your boyfriend, yet.

He insisted you stay for a bit, and you did. He insisted on making coffee, and you helped him heat the food. You both sat on his balcony that night for long hours, and he played all his favorite songs as you talked for hours. This felt like home. You felt like home.

Soon, spending evenings became a common thing. He wouldn't wait to text; he'd knock on your door straight up, and you'd open the door with that beautiful smile he cherished. You cooked for him while he helped whenever you could, or you would both order in sometimes. It felt like he was coming home to you and not to an empty apartment. You even brought him a plant and tended to it without any ado.

So, Steve was counting down the minutes to get home and see you after a grueling training session with the new recruits. While it wasn't the most dangerous thing, it had left him drained.

When he finally got back, instead of peace, something felt off. 

The lights were on in your apartment, and he could hear a man's voice through the open window. He noticed a man standing on your balcony, and his enhanced hearing sharpened as he listened, and his stomach dropped.

"Yeah, table for two… eight o'clock should work," the man said. 

A wave of jealousy surged through Steve before he could think rationally. A date. You were going on a date. 

Steve's grip tightened on his shield as he considered swinging it. No, he told himself. But the thought of you with someone else twisted his chest in ways he wasn't prepared for.

He restrained when you casually said it wasn't a date after that charity gala, calling upon every ounce of courage to practice patience. Now, though, he regretted not telling or showing you how he felt, and it might be too late. 

He walked into his apartment, his emotions boiling under the surface. Pacing the room, he caught his reflection in the mirror and barely recognized the frustration staring back. 

The logical part of him knew he should wait and talk to you. But logic was lost when, in his anger, he bumped into the side table, knocking over a lamp. It hit the floor with a loud crash, shattering into pieces. 

"Great," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

His eyes landed on the ornate bottle of mead Thor had gifted him a while back, sitting untouched on his shelf. A bad idea, but at this moment, Steve didn't care. He poured a glass and downed it in one gulp. Warmth spread through his body, and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. 

Another glass. And then another. By the time he stopped, the room seemed tilted.

He dropped onto the couch, head in his hands. Maybe he should confront you. Get it over with. Literally, anything was better than sitting here and stewing in his jealousy. Maybe Steve will show whoever shithead standing there on your balcony his rightful place.

If you wanna be tagged in my works, add yourself here. <3 Please send me a message if you wanna be removed from the Tag list. :)

Tag list: @nekoannie-chan @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @bitchy-bi-trash @theallknown213 @tripletstephaniescp @rogerscut @greatenthusiasttidalwave @zaraomarrogers @shadowrose13-blog1 @king814318 @yiiiikesmish @steviebbboi @bernelflo @saiyanprincessswanie @blushingrn @looking1016 @jvanilly @mimisweetz @navyhua23 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @shadyloveobjects @alexxavicry @astheskycries @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @patzammit @soelstress @8crazy-freak8 @stellar-solar-flare @stuckysgal @bval-1 @slowlyshycomputer @rogersbarber @avengersfan25 @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @thiquefunlover63 @blackhawkfanatic @notsostrangerthing @awkwardgiraffe726 @iamtamera @pebbles20 @ayayaeyato @starsrfun @harrysnovia @gingerplague

[uwuowotf2waslife]

What does your husbando/waifu/nonbinary barbie-crotched S/O says about you?

TW: slight teasing,but oh well...., also nsfw themes and swearing ( sowwy)

TEAM FARTRESS 2

Scooter/weanie man: complete morosexual or the unhuman need to take care of Boston inhabitants with room temperature EQ ( en englais: you have the mommy/daddy/parent kink and you want to show that boi all the love he deserves)

Soldier: you are a human carpet ( sub) or so Dom my sibling in Christ I am terrified. You think his bravery/randomness is endearing or you got roped in by every tumblr/wattpad headcanon potraying him as the ultimate beefcake ( cant argue with you, mofo built like a brickhouse on steroids without the roids.)

Pybro: A. you are a nonbinary peep and any nb representation makes your ovaries/balls/reproductive parts COMBUst with excitment. B. intense latex/leather kink with slight burn/wax play on main. I am both afraid and faschinated by your ability to flesh out on a person we barely know the most basics of their personaility, Godspeed you allmighty bAstERD <3

eNGIe: cowboy appreciator, daddy seeker and parental figure creamer connesuer, you fell in love with the ( here ) so much you actively search and look out for the gruff, wrench handling and guitar-playing texas man of your dreams. No matter your gender or sexuality engie hits that hotspot only the daddiest of daddies hit !

Heavy: rare breed of bear enjoyer, probs an older sibling that wants to make the older sibling ( tired, unhydrated and slighty (( extremely)) in need of therapy) pair. Probably not a huge shipper since you view HeavyMedic as more of a platonic pairing, or you are of the rarest Medicx Reader x Heavy poly sandwich. Please dont hug him too tight, hell hug tired and make your eyes pop like a cheap pop eyed toy.

Demo: contrary to popular belief, you are not a bbc enjoyer/seeker, Demoman isnt just a sextoy to you. He is just the only level headed person you see in a team of morons ( for u) or manchildren with murder tendencies and well, JUST LOOK AT HIM, HE IS BUILT WITH ABBS LIKE A WASHBOARD AND LOVES HIS MOM, HE IS NOT HUSBAND MATERIAL. HE IS SOULMATE/LOVE TILL DEATH ( WONT DO YOU PART, HE KNOWS MAGIK TO RECITATE YOU) , PLEASE I SALUTE YOU YOU GLORIOUS TAVISH ENJOYER!

Medic: WE GET IT HE IS HANDSOME AND SOUNDS EITHER LIKE A CHICKEN WITH A TOP TIER DANTE DEMON OR HOT GERMAN GILF! Please dont canoodle him so hard, youll throw out his back or break his hip. Also very questionable kinks ( i see you blood kinksters). You unironically are the I cAn MakE HiM So MUch WorSE squad and you scare me.

Sniper: yes he is the ratman ofyour dreams and yes he is also really pretty, but please stop treating him like a man who aint also a hired killer. Yes he wont even think to correct his Macas orders, but he will and can make you swoon so hard you look redder than Pyros suit, mans gots that outdoors, unshowered , rugged swagg and he is rocking it harder than the fricking 80s <3 <3

Spah: yesh you have a french kink, yes you want him to whisper in your ear soft french while he btters your bagguet, probably into dilfs or gilfs in the distance because none is a dilf /suave/sensual enough for you. ( perfume isnt a shower, go to shower now, mon petit coucou

RESIDENT EVIL VILLAGE ( or the bimbofied RE4)

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu: a cis male/ a sapphic soul/trans,enby vagabond who respectfully wants to drown while motorboating he absolute units of bazoongas. Perhaps slight size kink and perhaps a person who doesnt mind a good blood slurped by their F! S/O if their tumm had the ramblies. Please dont go overboard, or youll enter the unholy assemblange of vore/stuffing kink irl

Donna Bienevento: creepypasta kid, you unironically got spooked first time you read Jeff the Killer. Probably into some questionable types of literature, hardcore horror enjoyer who also has a sanrio addiction. You have tried some kinds of handcraftmanship and might even have some hobbies that involve handiwork. I applaud you, but please dont give the basement FEOTus monster your choccy milk, itll have the zoomies and knock of angies card-castle.

Salvatore Moreau: the epitome of I can fix him! peeps, probably slight hurt/comfort enjoyer. You saw how dirty all the other treat him and you crave to make fish man happy. Both feet in monsterfuckening domain, unironically want to do the dirty while he is at monster form. Maybe you saw the Shape of Water and your brain did the thingy, but oh well, please continue on and make the lord of the reservoir the happiest fish in the sea!

Karl Heisenberg : you slimy, daddy kinked bAsterds, cant we have one game with a slight rat man with a good VA without yall flocking to him like lycans to his factory for french toast scraps??? slight bdsm enjoyer, or person who wants metal rat man happy and softened out like a soviet made breadcutter blade after a top tier professional restoration. Either way, please handle with care he may cry if you hug him the good way

The duke: an absolute chad who may or may not want to drown all your sorrows to a large, beautiful, suave man hug ( or man-thing, you never know.) You seriously deserve the world, because you be pumping fics faster than a heated political debate on Reddit. Also probably a slight hand kink, we all show those monsters at the Shadow of Rose DLC.

[whyse7vn]

BTS BOYFRIEND TEXTS -

[ ot7 x reader ]

lmao what is this it’s 3 am and i’m tired enjoy ^ ^

SEOKJIN -

jin: you ate without me…

y/n: did do that

jin: you said you’d wait

y/n: lied

jin: you’re not even gonna try and lie and say you tried you wait or something?

y/n: no

jin: we’re over

y/n: damn that sucks

jin: you don’t even care 😓

y/n: i do

seokjin please please please take me back i love you so much please please !!

jin: i guess i’ll give you another chance 🙄

y/n: thanks so much jinjin love you 😍😍🥰🥰🥰‼️‼️‼️‼️💕💕💓💓💓

jin: ew stop

y/n: stop what bae 😓💓

jin: that

y/n: you’re so hard to please

jin: i deserve better than you

y/n: choke

jin: i’m plotting your murder

y/n: it’s giving jin !alpha !hybrid !mafia boss !hard dom (disturbing content) minors dni

jin: i wolf you

y/n: would turn you into a rug

NAMJOON -

namjoon: got a loaf of bread

y/n: smooth like butter

namjoon: also got broke that green bowl so i bought a new one

y/n: haters gonna hate and players gonna play

namjoon: the bowl is blue tho

hope that’s ok

y/n: pretty woman

namjoon: did you eat lunch ?

y/n: everybody say no

namjoon: you should go do that then

y/n: run run run

namjoon: i think there is soup in the fridge

go check

y/n: did you see my bag ?

namjoon: is it there ?

y/n: you’re so big for no reason

namjoon: what ?

y/n: i’m looking at that photo on the fridge

namjoon: the disney one ?

y/n: yeah and you’re standing behind me you a big bitch

namjoon: thanks ?

y/n: ur built like a brick

ur so hot

lord

come home pls

namjoon: i’m on my way love

y/n: DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN THAT INTERVIEWER TOLD YOO TO PLAY UR OWN RACE LMAOOOOO

namjoon: i do

y/n: he really got you like that

foul

i would of laughed if i was there

namjoon: i know

y/n: loud asf too

namjoon: i know babe

y/n: pls he really ate you up

lord i’m laughing now

namjoon: i figured

y/n: still love you tho 🤞🏽❤️

namjoon: love you too

was the soup in the fridge ?

y/n: no

namjoon: k i’ll order something when i get back ok ?

y/n: light it up like dynamite

YOONGI -

y/n: what if i had 1 hour to live and was going bald and my leg was broken and all my family was dying from cancer right now

yoongi: it’s 8am

y/n: what if

yoongi: it’s 8am

y/n: yoongi 🥺

yoongi: it is 8 am.

y/n: ok and i am gonna kms.

what now yoongi ? what now ??

yoongi: bye

y/n: what the frick bro

fuck you

you’re an opp fr

can’t trust anyone

not a soul not even your own bf

this is so sad

all they ever do is leave you in the dirt

this is what fame does to people

man this is so sad

all this money gets to them fr fr

i can’t believe it

you switched like a pussy lil bitch 💔🗣🙏🏽

agust d too famous for me 😓😓

omg am i the next rap monster but actually black ????

you should get them braids again bae 😍

could be twins

nvm i don’t like you forgot

suga flopped 🥱‼️

bts disband

skz outsold bts 🗣🗣🗣🗣

felix should replace suga 💯

agust d a flop 🙄

cyphers ain’t even that good

suga old asf

yoongi: i am trying

y/n: omg hey bae 😍😍❤️🥵🥰

yoongi: to sleep

y/n: without me 😩⁉️

yoongi: yes

y/n: omw to america rn btw like fr fr no joke /thisisnotajokeimbeingfr

yoongi: i know

y/n: i can tell you’re so excited ur so cute love you 💞

yoongi: yeah.

going to sleep now.

y/n: rest up bro ‼️‼️‼️

see you soon g 🥱🤞🏽

HOSEOK -

y/n: i had a dream you violently slammed me into a pile of bricks

you had me by the throat

hobi: my fault

y/n: my back is broken now

hobi: sorry

y/n: it’s ok i forgive you

hobi: thank you

y/n: just don’t do it again

hobi: i promise i won’t

y/n: don’t let me down

hobi: ok

y/n: we are in love

hobi: true

y/n: cool

hobi: went into a cake shop today

y/n: what did it smell like

hobi: roses

y/n: interesting

hobi: got a small cake with a strawberry on top

y/n: photo ?

hobi: i dropped it

y/n: oh

hobi: i took a picture of it on the floor tho do you want to see ?

y/n: please

TAEHYUNG -

tae: hiiii

y/n: saw a trumpet on the tv made me think about how shit you sound playing it

tae: fuck you i’ll be great one day

y/n: i take it back ur hot

tae: fanks

y/n: we can get matching trumpets

can we put like sequins on them or will that fuck up the sound or something?

tae: idk

y/n: you should

tae: can we drink tn?

y/n: we can make a lil marching band 🥺🥺🥺

tae: also can we not invite jin this time want it to just be us

y/n: we should learn how to play dynamite

tae: and we are gonna eat yesterday’s leftovers

y/n: but if i see your fucking feet out one time today marching band dreams will come to an end ok ?

tae: but idk if i’m really feeling leftovers yk???

y/n: make sure them dogs are LOCKED away

tae: yeah idk i’ll wait until it’s time to eat then i’ll decide

y/n: what ?

tae: huh?

why are you talking about my feet

y/n: they’re scary 😟

tae: i feel like we’re on the completely different pages rn

JUNGKOOK -

jk: what if i was spiderman ?

y/n: that would be hot

jk: yeah

y/n: why aren’t you spiderman?

jk: racism.

y/n: valid

jk: do you still think i’m hot even tho i’m not spiderman?

y/n: i guess

jk: thanks

y/n: yw

jk: sorry i’m not at my full potential

y/n: i forgive you

jk: ok

y/n: ok

jk: bought a rock today

y/n: a shiny one ?

jk: no

y/n: like just a normal one ?

jk: yeah

y/n: nice.

jk: ikr

y/n: how much was it?

jk: 4k

y/n: what

jk: 4,000

y/n: jungkook

jk: yeah

y/n: what the fuck

jk: the rock seller was very convincing

y/n: can you return it ?

jk: no

y/n: what does the rock do

jk: sit ?

y/n: oh

jk: i’m gonna draw a face on it

y/n: i think i’m gonna take your card for a bit

jk: oh

y/n: yeah

jk: did i do something wrong ?

JIMIN -

jimin: watched 10 fancams of myself today

y/n: watched 10 of v

jimin: go fuck him then ???

y/n: might do that

jimin: no don’t it was a joke /j /j /j /j

y/n: don’t joke like that got my hopes up for nothing 😔💔

jimin: you would never

y/n: try me

jimin: you make me sick

y/n: 🤞🏽🤞🏽

jimin: you make me hard

y/n: i would hope so

jimin: yeah

y/n: yeah

jimin: i’m in our room

y/n: ok

jimin: just thinking

y/n: nice to know your brain still does that

jimin: you ruined it

y/n: my bad bro 🙏🏽

jimin: bro ???

y/n: bestie ?

jimin: ur so annoying

y/n: i’ll try better myself for you jimin 😔

jimin: you cant

you’re too lost

y/n: find me jimin 🥺🥺

pls find me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

jimin: i’ll try

y/n: that’s so hot 🤤🥵❤️‼️💯

[nautiscarader]

Well... that is the end of Kid Cosmic, one of the most uniquely flavoured cartoons in recent years. 

From the very first season, KC has managed to trick us and pull the rug from under our feet. What might have looked like generic show about Power Rangers knockoffs turned quickly into a story of family, friendship and government trying to seize your creative work. 

Then Craig fooled us again, showing that changing the setting to an asteroid in space doesn’t really change anything, and those same principles apply there, even if your mom can no longer serve apple pies, because there are no apples.

And in this season, we learned that we often tell lies to ourselves, and we shouldn’t, as the real world is way more interesting than the best fantasy.

I will not lie, the entire story about PPG being fake was... a little disappointing, and the moment Papa G revealed his lucky stone, it was pretty obvious what will it do. 

But in the end, Kid Cosmic did what it does best, served us a heartwarming and bittersweet story, reminding us of said bitterness, and how important part of our diet it must be. And that is a heck of a good lesson. 

You did good, Kid. You did good. 

ALSO FRICK THAT FRICKING FAKE PAPA G DEATH FAKEOUT DONE TO THAT EMOTIONAL SONG AND THE FRICKING FUNERAL WITH THE REVEAL AT THE END THAT HE IS ALIVE. 

Good show. Very good show

[an-android-child]

I mean I'm on my yearly re-reading of pre-crisis and he was pretty good with Jason and Helena lmao. Also with Bruce Jr? But there are like three different Bruce Jr and one of them gets the short end of the stick (but they did make up so character growth???). And also with Dick.... When they aknowledged it of course (I do have a whole meta talking about how fricking inconsistent their relationship was lmao). But no yeah I get it man I get it, modern Bruce is.... Is a lot and it's not good. It's honestly baffling what they'll justify him doing in favour of the writer's fragile masculinity/politics, and I really do wish we could see some consequences for it? It's always brushed off under the rug when it happens and even if it's aknowledged it's never like, truly taken seriously? I mean, I know this is comics and all, but you'd think it would have more lasting consequences, and that could be really interesting to play with! But writers do be pussies ngl. Hell, even if it's not my fav characterization of him, it is has been a very prominent and recurrent theme since the 90's/2000's, so you'd think it would be. More impactful to the character I guess?

U ever see a take that u couldnt disagree more with but its a popular fandom take so u know if u voice it youre gonna get dragged through tue mud

[godfrey-hath-forsaken-thee]

On Thin Ice

So... This was a little story I submitted to a writing competition at school, and it got second place! This little piece of no-plot fluff got SECOND PLACE in a writing contest!!

Brief summary of Whomst The Frick is in the story:

Samantha McDermott is, at this point in my lore for her, 20 years old. If I had to describe her in one word, it would be determined. Samantha is fairly intelligent, and though she tries to appear tough, she cares about people a lot. She's currently taking a gap year and travelling the world, and right now, in December, she finds herself in the Norwegian mountains, sharing a cabin with...

Nicole Saunders - Nicky for short to those who know her well. She's about the same age as Samantha, and she's bright, optimistic and outgoing. She was ✨single handedly✨ responsible for Samantha's Bisexual Awakening, and the two make for one heck of a couple.

Please let me know if you enjoy this, I love getting feedback from people!

Now, without further ado, let's get on with it...

The door of the quaint little mountain cabin swung open and hit the wall from the force of the gale outside. Two young women entered, and the snow blew in with them, taking the heat from the air. Samantha McDermott was the first to step onto the rug, not caring about the tracks her sodden boots left in their wake. She removed her brown overcoat and hat, revealing her light brown hair, windswept and messy, but she kept her blue scarf on, arranging it a little more neatly. Nicole Saunders followed her, shivering violently with her head bowed and immediately walking somewhat awkwardly into the living room.

The two of them had been ice skating on a frozen lake nearby, and had severely misjudged the thickness of the ice; Nicole had fallen though and gotten soaked. After about thirty seconds of utter panic, Samantha pulled Nicole by the arms out of the freezing water and helped her get out of her skates. It was then that they decided to simply walk back to the house and try and get her warm.

Samantha lit a fire in the living room, and set the mug of hot chocolate she'd made for Nicole on the table. Nicole reached for the cup, drinking deeply from it and giving a shaky sigh. She continued holding the mug, clutching it like a sort of lifeline, coveting the warmth it gave. Samantha bustled out of the room, getting a thick tartan blanket from upstairs. She then came back into the living room and moved the couch a little closer to the fire, inviting Nicole to sit down. Nicole arranged the blanket around herself and gave another harsh shudder. "Don't move, Nicky," Samantha said softly, "I'll get your nightgown and pyjamas so you can get out of those wet clothes…" Nicole tried to answer, but could barely speak because her teeth were still chattering from the frigid conditions outside. She took off her jacket and boots, which were absolutely drenched. Samantha came back in and handed the silky pyjamas and fluffy lavender nightgown to Nicole, before leaving again for a few minutes so Nicole could get changed. When Samantha returned for the last time, she was in her nightdress and a tartan dressing gown. She took a sip from her own mug of hot chocolate, which was beginning to go cold.

"Are you alright after that, Nicky?" Samantha asked, "That was a hell of a fall you took." "I'm fine," Nicole said, a little shakily, "I just can't seem to get warm, is all…" "That's the last time I ever set foot on a frozen lake," Samantha muttered to herself, "Don't ever scare me like that again, okay?" "Noted," Nicole had to agree with Samantha, "But it was my own fault, really - I should've known better." "Don't blame yourself, lass," Samantha told her, "What matters is that you're okay now." "Well, I hope I am, anyway," Nicole began, "I still feel freezing, and I think I'm getting a headache…" Nicole raised a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes for a moment while she re-centered herself.

"Let me get a look at you, love," Samantha said. Nicole raised her head, looking up at Samantha, Her weary, out-of-focus brain struggled to take in Samantha's concerned expression; she looked even more anxious than usual. "Y-you're doing that thing with your hands again," Nicole pointed out, her voice breaking involuntarily. Samantha was tapping her fingers, the way she always did when she was nervous. She couldn't help it, it just happened. But Samantha Hortense McDermott knew when someone wasn't feeling their best - indeed, it was a feeling she herself knew all too well. When someone needed help, a softer side to Samantha emerged. She was usually so uptight and serious, but she cared about the people she loved an awful lot. And right now, Nicole was someone she really loved. She'd never felt this way before, but it wasn't entirely unwelcome.

"I think we should both get to bed," Samantha suggested, "The rest will do us good." She let Nicole lean on her shoulder as the two of them stood up, which was fortunate, because Nicole was a little unsteady on her feet. Samantha helped her walk up the stairs to their bedroom. There were two single beds there as opposed to a double - probably just as well, as Samantha couldn't sleep with someone next to her. And those beds had never looked quite as inviting as they did tonight. "Goodnight, Samantha," Nicole said through a yawn as she got comfortable under the covers. She fell asleep almost immediately. "Goodnight, my darling," Samantha smiled as she turned off the light, before fumbling her way through the darkened room and getting into her own bed.

It took her longer to fall asleep. Thoughts and feelings chased each other around her mind, some of them achingly familiar, others totally new. She'd never expected, when she and Nicole first crossed paths, to feel this way about her. And she certainly hadn't imagined that she would be quite so… fascinated by the sight of her in this situation. Samantha knew she was doing a good thing, helping her out, and maybe that fulfilment in itself was part of it, but there was something about the way NIcole looked at her as she pulled her out of the icy water, something about the way her hair, wet and limp, framed her face perfectly, something about how her voice cracked and wavered when she spoke, that for some reason Samantha found a little bit pleasing.

"Why do I feel like this?" Samantha asked herself, "I… I shouldn't feel this way…" She sighed. This was going to be a long night, wasn't it?

[jihyocentric]

ok so i thought i fixed my settings but it was probably the ios filter thing BUT YEAH I JUST READ THAT. WOW.

jihyo wanting to be a good obedient pup is so precious frrr waiting for nayeon to take her back to the bath and everything what a good girl

and her bonding with jeongyeon over video games AND THE CHEEK KISSSSSS LUMI U TOOK ME OUT WITH THAT ONE ITS TOO CUTE

big big fan of the character development here they are learning to LOVE each other and im so happy!! and im glad u liked the idea abt the non-sexual bathing too, it's one of my favorite types of intimacy to talk and write abt, i think it's cute but also intense

ok idea hold on: once 3mix are together together i can see 2yeon deciding to mess with jihyo one day by having jeongyeon goad her into being a brat while nayeon is trying to get her to obey and whoever she listens to wins and the loser...probably won't be able to walk for a few days LMAOOO or smth like that :)

and side note: i know i am THE pup!hyo anon and all that but can i say ive been loving the polar bear!sana and kitten!jihyo discussions that have been going on around here? imagine sana laying on the floor like one of those bear rugs (on her stomach, all spread out, maybe in front of a fireplace etc) bc she's too lazy to go to bed and she starts dozing off and then she feels someone (her nose tells her it's jihyo) lay on top of her...then a couple minutes later someone else plops down and it's momo...then dahyun...then nayeon...until all of the members are cuddling her and they fall asleep together. IDK I HAVE WARM FUZZY FEELINGS ABT BEAR!SANA

and l4zylurker!! ur art is so good!! ur so fricking talented WOW i am in awe

anyways thats my lil ramble for now, hope ur taking care for the holidays lumi!!

-🐶

(late reply im sorry bestie)

now i have the perfect chance to make jeongyeon give our pup a warm bath and i might do that the next time i write a drabble for puppy hyo! they're definitely moving forward and getting closer,, and tbh i really really really need the 3mix like NOW but my desperate ass can't win we need to be patient 😿

and small displays of affection is puppy hyo's love language tbh. when nahyo are cuddling jihyo likes to kiss nayeon's tummy because it's soft and warm and well she's a puppy, you might already know what goes into her head... and now she found out jeongyeon's cheek is another soft surface for her to kiss and she loves it — not quite good as a tummy but still she loves it!

and PLEASE jihyo would fight so bad not to be a bad girl for nayeon but sometimes she slips.. cue to nayeon getting dicked down by both of them and she might be in disadvantage but she will make them pay for it the next day, mommy nayeon isn't mommy for nothing!

polarbear!sana laying on the ground with the girls on top of her is so cute 🥺 and she knows the first one is jihyo bc it's her mate, her kitty, and she would know it's jihyo from miles away!! but i don't think the position would last long because kitten jihyo would hiss at the others for putting so much weight on top of her (and sana would laugh, quietly, bc she isn't bothered at all... polar bear things) and i must say the way you placed momo on top of jihyo is so funny like... a whole ass WOLF on top of a tiny kitten.. makes me wonder how it'd be if momo and sana teamed up on her

(and yes thel4zylurker you're awesome! i can't tag you but i hope you see this still!!)

[legendtraineremily]

Sooo…

The last week has been a bit of a blur, but such is the life of someone fostering a baby. It also didn’t help that I had been forgetting to take my meds regularly. Emotional disregulation is a pain in the—

Anywho! While I cannot give exact dates for any euphoric moments I can tell you what I remember:

I got out of the shower and noticed that an unshaven me looks like one of those rugged Gondorian soldiers from The Return of the King. Gave me a little insight into how my wife could possibly think I’m attractive when I don’t always believe it.

I was able to spread a little happiness to a cousin who is figuring out their own gender identity and hopefully helped them feel validated and seen.

Tonight, which I’m counting as June 13, I took a look in the mirror and remembered I’m a fricking pretty person and should be happy I’m alive and get to live an awesome life in spite of the challenges!

Hey, Legend Trainer Emily here. My Pride Month contribution will be a euphoric moment for each day of Pride. Feel free to do the same, just tag me to let me know what I’m doing helped you out 😊 Rules: post something each day that made you happy to be who you are; Any and all people are encouraged to try this—cis or trans, ally or queer! Share the happy in all this gloom! 🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵

June 1st: After my shower, I noticed my hair was down to my shoulders and looking cute and curly as frick! 🤩