#inspired by a post i read elsewhere that broke me a bit

[uncanny-tranny]

One thing I hate most about enduring the scars of abuse is that I just... never trusted that something as fundamental as love and care could exist in a pure state, unadulterated by fear and isolation. It felt like every little aspect of humanity twisted into itself until all I could recognize was this cold, unfeeling mass of horror. You pick up the pieces and have to learn how to step back into the waters of love, and it's so damn scary, yet people look at you with this look that says, "how dare you be suspicious of love?"

I just want others to know that it's not easy to recover - it never really is, is it? People expect that you'll accept love right away, that you won't be afraid of positivity. But that's unrealistic and unreasonable and unfair. People who are in this stage of recovery aren't selfish, nor are we trying to insult the love the world has for us. We are wounded, and we are trying to protect ourselves, and yes, it might seem counterproductive, but please realize that this might be the only way we know how to survive right now. And to the person reading this who may be going through this: I'm proud of you. If you cannot run head-first into recovery, you may walk, or crawl, or claw your way into it, you may scream and sob and laugh. There is no right answer to recovery.

#recovery #abuse #abuse tw #inspired by a post i read elsewhere that broke me a bit #and the reason i resonated with it were completely different but it still... i felt that same way for years and i never could notice it #everybody expects you to bounce back from trauma but... the trauma has personally disabled me and has warped me for years #and yes i am trying to recover but this has taken most of my *life* to do #and i wish more people recognized the effort it takes. some people aren't ready for this huge commitment and that is OKAY #if you aren't ready to recover or you are recovering slowly: you are welcomed here. it's okay. you aren't judged. this shit is hard as fuck #i admire the courage it takes for you to be here now. i adore the brief moments our spaceships have passed by

[besiegedhunter]

Part about Siracusa from Terra encyclopedia, I think you would like it.

It's on Chinese, but machine translation is comprehensible

https://m.bilibili.com/opus/895734117020205072?spm_id_from=333.999.0.0

Genuinely thank you so much! I was hoping to find a post about it but didn't know how to go about looking but there's some really interesting things in there. I'm going to have to throw some things around in my head.

But firstly I do want to discuss something I had theorized about elsewhere regarding Red that I actually called. I'll put it below.

So, only now I'm I reading the wiki do I think I'm wrong but also... not wrong? So ignore that.

Essentially there's a dorm theme called "Seven Cities-style Restaurant" which I had taken to be a reference to Sette Colli because Sette Colli is Seven Hills but apparently the Wiki now says it's referencing the seven cities in Northern Leithania which Wolumonde is a part of? I can't confirm or deny.

But the thing is, there's one furniture piece called "Real Wooden Accent Wall" and I believe there's another that references the wood of the seven cities. Which is the thing.

Red Riding Hood. The Big Bad Wolf. Grandma. The Woodcutter.

Regardless of whether it's Sette Colli or not, it planted the idea of the relevance of that in my head. After all it's the Woodcutter that kills the Big Bad Wolf and plays an integral part of the story and we've not seen anyone like that yet.

But we've know Siracusa has a lot of forests, it would make sense that woodcutters would be an important position.

This just flat out confirms it and in several points.

The Independence of Siracusa started in a logging camp (by a Fang no less). It's said that a Woodcutter is stronger than a mafioso because of how dangerous Siracusa's wilderness is because of the amount of wolves that exist there.

If Woodcutters weren't important, they wouldn't have been mentioned repeatedly and besides possibly the Seven Cities dorm theme, nothing was there to hint at it beforehand.

It very much feels like it's going to be followed up on and with Red because of her inspiration in Red Riding Hood and the relevance of the Woodcutter.

And it makes me wonder because 4.5 - Zwillingstürme im Herbst was a Leithanien event and I believe in both it's story and in Bassline's files does Siracusa's Independence and the breaking of the Güldenesgesatz by them get brought up.

Contextualizing it that a Wolf's Fang (Someone raised by Wolves) inspired them to do it and possibly broke it themselves, with this lore book with an odd emphasis on Woodcutting does feel like there's some forward momentum for Red's event.

I also think saying that one of the oldest legends in Siracusa is of y'know, someone raised by wolves and how they're the most bloodthirsty killer in Siracusa and how the concept of family is solidified as the core of Siracusa's culture and has it's roots, not just in the She-Wolf, but the wolf packs in the wilderness.

Further adds to the things surrounding Red and what she could be connected to.

I also think how animalistic the Fang that was found and inspired Siracusa's independence was contextualizes her further. Maybe in full. Like, they attacked anyone that got close and couldn't speak. Red feels like she's just a tiny bit better than that.

And maybe Kal'tsit found Red in the exact same way.

I... also want to question the situation this Wolf-person was in. Like I call them a Fang because they were compared to one but if that's the case they should, well, they should be a more capable fighter, have better clothes and weapons and have enough thought to not just be standing on the side of the road.

Like it's implied that the game has been going on for a thousand years per Emperor and this being a hundred years ago feels like it ought to have been prior to the current round of the game. So...?

Who knows. Maybe we'll learn more later cause this feels oddly important. Watch it be Ben, infused with the Güldenesgesatz to be made an ageless.

But I've dipped into rambling but lol since I dipped into Zwillingstürme im Herbst, I'm excited to talk about it at further length and it does feel like, as I said, forward momentum is happening for Red's event.

Let us hope it's soon!

Also cause I don't know if I'll cover my other thoughts on this lore under that concept alone: I also want to say how much this fleshes out Provence too. From expanding upon how important a Lupo's tail is, especially in Siracusa with it's importance on hair care but also what the Infected go through.

You can see why Provence is so proud of her tail and what it'd mean for her to go home I suppose.

Also the bit about the entwinement of family and like, the bit how Siracusa had bags of animal fur, claws and daggers when everyone else had instruments. Really contextualizes Siracusa's wildness even further and how even the common person isn't far removed from it.

I have lots of thoughts on Red and Provence (separately or together) so those were my priorities lol but anyway that's that. Thank you again for sending this to me. I'm going to be thinking about it a lot.

#ask #cn spoilers #I keep thinking her event is so close #with each shred of information on anything relevant #but when will it actually happen!!

[ciaran-archive]

Serious question. How do you write long stories? Is there a technique or advice for that? No matter what story I have in mind, I can't seem to tell it in anything longer than 1 to 2k. Writing 5k is tiring already, where do people seriously get that stamina to even do 50 or 100 or 200k? It's mind-blowingly amazing.

there is nothing less worthy or amazing about writing shorter fic - i know writers who struggle with it, and i’ve come to inhabit that position somewhat myself, though i’m determined to stay in practice. it’s a different skillset, that’s all. your fics aren’t worse for being shorter.

that said i will not deny that longer fics generate far more engagement from fandoms simply by virtue of updating more often  → being on top of the ao3 tag when people first open it  → getting more clicks and being considered less ‘frivolous’ (which is bullshit, but what can you do)

if you’re dead sure you want to write longer fic, i would first recommend reading this post about writing drabbles, which i promise is relevant to the point i’m about to make.

Because drabbles are about one moment. You don't need to know exactly what happened before this moment of dialogue, or what happens next, or what's happening around it. You don't have to do any of the planning you might do for a longer fic, but you also don't have the space to let the scene lead in and develop naturally. You've got 100 words.

a lot of writing a longer story is about establishing the scope of your story, deciding what beats you want to hit. there are a lot of ways to go about this; [some people like to outline. i don’t outline, ever, so if you want help for outlining you should look at the other sources on the internet. there are quite a few.] i’m going to talk about the way i’ve learnt to do it.

so when i’m writing a short fic, the thing i’m considering is one or two ideas, and one or two moments (short in this case being under 5k). this also depends on the style i’m going for - fics with sparser styles can fit more scenes, if i’m going for my usual style, each scene takes about 700-2000 words at least and therefore takes up more space. a lot of how i eased into writing longer fics was focusing on stylistic changes - you can push up the word count of a fic by going moment by moment. note the difference between: 

They’d been standing next to each other as they spoke; now Felix turned to him in the rain, startled by the admission of weakness. He reached out clumsily, bumping his hand against Ryan’s until he took the hint and grabbed on.

and 

The rain made it near-impossible to hear Ryan speaking, but the harshness in his voice would’ve been audible through a hurricane. “So you ran away,” he said, like he hadn’t expected this. 

“Course I did,” Felix snapped. “What was I supposed to do? Stick it out and let her kill me?” I almost did, he added under his breath.

Ryan’s sensitive werewolf ears, of course, caught that. “I’m glad you did,” he amended, as though it pained him to admit it. “I would’ve - I did the same. It’s all you can do, sometimes.”

Felix turned to him, blinking through the curtains of water. Ryan was slouching in the downpour, eyes narrowed elsewhere. Mostly he was startled by the admission of weakness - rare in a person who prided himself so thoroughly on being reliable and independent. He reached out, struck by the urge to offer whatever clumsy comfort he was capable of; his hand bumped against Ryan’s, and he held it there until Ryan caught up and wove their fingers together. 

His hands were wet and cold, and he gripped so hard Felix’s very human bones ached, but he wouldn’t have pulled away now. Not when he’d been the one to offer.

it’s not even that one is necessarily better than the other - they both work, and they’re working in different ways. they’re set in the same scene, conveying the same beat - reaching out to comfort someone in the wake of vulnerability. it’s just that one is longer, and therefore gives you more room to - set the scene (rain, being unable to hear each other) - use dialogue to show what is being told in the first example - convey extra information about the characters (actually, if this was a scene i was writing in a fic or novel, the stuff about ryan being a werewolf would already be known to the reader, so i would use that space to convey something else about ryan in that moment) - elaborate on felix’s internal state: the transition from defensive to curious/surprised to gentle - linger for a sentence or two on the moment of connection

this is about unraveling a scene and making it bigger than it was, breaking it apart into tinier beats and describing each one in the narrative. what happens when you do that and your fic doesn’t get much bigger still?

back to scope! we understand, as people who read and write and live, that the part of a story that you choose to depict in a narrative is not the entire story: events happen off-screen. some of them happened before the story started, and they will continue to happen after the story ends. the narrative is only showing you an arc, a particular series of events. 

when you’re writing fic, you have in fact tremendous amounts of flexibility when it comes to the scope of a story. you can write something that is about a single moment in canon, and trust that your audience is following along because they have the context already. so you don’t need to waste time on setting it up, which often means - if you’re given to a certain kind of fic writing (canon compliant / small divergences / missing scenes / character studies) your fics will end up not being very long because you’re not reiterating what you don’t need to reiterate. your idea is small because it inhabits a small space, is squished between canon events, and so doesn’t ever get bigger. if this is what is happening, it’s good, and you should try to preserve this going forward. 

people who are writing longer fic are, simply, working with bigger ideas*. they’re not just going “what if he said what he wanted in this scene instead of going home?” and writing the bit where they kiss immediately after - they’re also going “what if this changed everything in the future? what happens if they tackle all their problems together from now on? what new problems arise from this?”

*hopefully they are working with bigger ideas. i have seen longfics that are just incredibly fucking tedious because the author swallowed a thesaurus and had a tenuous grasp on plotting to begin with. 

that’s for a canon divergent fic, presumably. you might also be writing a post-canon fic, with its own set of pre-fic events and a new set of problems to deal with. currently, for example, i’m writing a fic where akira and goro were dating after canon, broke up, and stayed together in a deeply dysfunctional way after that - and the consequences for them now that they’re forced to deal with the mess they’ve made of their lives, together and apart. so now they have to deal with: the catalyst for dealing with their old problems, which is a problem in itself, and their old problems, which have been festering for a really long time.

which forms the core of the scope i’m talking about. i have to go through a bunch of scenes to set this fic up - i need to show their old problems and their new problems, i need to explain why the old ones haven’t been dealt with already, i need to set up the potential for dealing with them and the necessity of doing so, i need to give them places to start, and also i want to allow them to fail so they can choose to start again. i know these things because i have some idea of the kind of story i want to tell. if i didn’t know this, my story would not go anywhere by itself, and i would have to start outlining scene by scene the way people who actually outline do it, and i hate doing that because then i never write. 

if you can outline and it doesn’t make you want to chew wood, then i highly recommend picking up the habit. it’s very useful, and the methodical approach is a fantastic failsafe for the moments when you (me) get stuck on your fic (breakup au) and have to stop writing for several weeks in order to figure out a single fucking plot point that will let you move forward and

anyway. 

so yeah! to sum up;

find a larger scope for your story

get in the habit of picking apart beats into discrete moments and guiding the narrative through them

learn to outline if you can

last thing - which is perhaps the most vital and least reliable - stamina. 

you WILL lose interest in half the longer fics you write. it WILL suck. if you think you know pain because you have 700 words of a fic and can’t get through the last 400, i promise you it is like that but much worse because you have 7000 words now, or 17000 words, and you are stuck with no way forward. it will suck so BAD. 

don’t beat yourself up over it. once you’re in the habit of writing something long, you will retain that habit, and be able to apply it elsewhere. the words aren’t wasted, they’re practice, and they’re worth what they’ve taught you.

but! all the scope and internal scene-building and outlines won’t help you if you do not (and this is not as bad as everyone makes it sound) actually write. you HAVE to learn to actually write. you have to figure out what you like about writing and make a longfic outline [/ scene beats notes chart / themes mind map / tumblr tag of inspiring quotes and photography] that consists entirely of stuff you love and then you have to sit down and write your fic. it is not terribly scary. it’s okay to fail, but you also have no way around this. 

i hope this helped, and good luck!

#writelogging #ok 2 rb #anon #asks

[tmabigbang]

Masterpost of TMA Big Bang 2020 Fics

To prevent clogging up anyone’s dash, we have put all of these fics under a read more since there are 28 wonderful fics created for this bang, which makes for a bit of a long post! Below the cut are links and summaries to all the fics created for this bang! 

In addition to this post, you can also check out our fic page (which you can find here)! The fic page includes links to all the fics, art, and the team members that helped create them! You can also use some basic filters for rating and oneshot/multichapter to find fics.

Thank you again to all our participants, and we will see you next year!

Your Job’s A Joke (You’re Broke) by @bisexualoftheblade and @desert-lily

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27590578

Summary: Working at the Magnus Institute was stressful by default. With monsters, mayhem, and potential primordial entities, it has very little expectations for being a comfortable job. However, everyone is allowed to have a little fun sometimes - even an archivist, their assistants, and their really creepy boss. Fueled by spite and a rampant lack of heterosexuality, they all try to balance their work life with a bit of fun and a healthy dose of bullying twelve-times divorced Elias Bouchard.

I Know The End by @williammatagot

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27947966

Summary: Except, for all that beautiful poetry, Eliot was wrong, because the world doesn’t end with a bang, sure, but it doesn’t end with a whimper, either. It ends with the distant-yet-deafening voice of the man Martin loves shouting through a ragged, wild throat--I open the door. (The world ends, Jon shatters, and Martin tries to fix it. The house tries, too, in its own way.)

From the Depth of the Spiral by @trickstergod14

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27842941

Summary: Michael had no idea what was going on. He suddenly woke up in the tunnels under the Magnus Institute with no memories of the past seven years after that fateful trip to Sannikov Land. Watch as he slowly spirals into madness, regaining his memories while strengthening his bond with the Distortion along the way. Can he hide all this from the other Archival Assistants? What will happen when Jon wakes up from his coma? And what does the newly crowned Distortion Avatar, Helen, have to do with all this?

Every Word I Say is Kindling (But The Smoke Clears When You’re Around) by @ohnoimdeathing

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27956897

Summary: The unknowing left Jon stirring in the nightmares of others, watching their torment and suffering and making everything worse. He wanted to wake up, to go back to Martin, Tim, Basira, even Daisy. But he didn’t know how to. Until a voice told him to choose Though, to be honest, he doesn’t remember actually making the choice to stay a monster and live rather than be human and die. The only injury the doctors will talk about is his missing eyes, and why are all the doctors Scottish? At least Martin is here.

Spinning ‘Round (like two sides of a coin) by @awayofunderstandingit

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27835756

Summary: Time is a construct. What we know as past, present, and future all exist at the same time, ad infinitum. • Guided not by time but a spoken word poem, follow along the lives of two intertwined souls, Timothy Stoker and Sasha James. The story of their friendship from the time they meet, through growing apart, to when they fall back together, and through their time working at the Magnus Institute. Witness slices of their lives—not memories, memories would suggest the past—as they exist, ad infinitum, even at The End.

retrouvailles by @jet-siquliak

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27818092

Summary: The Magnus Institute burns. The archivist, for all intents and purposes, burned with it. In a dingy hospital room lies what remains - Jonathan sims. weak, powerless, and insignificant. On Jon’s last day in the hospital, Martin awakes from a coma, unscathed. Melanie King kicks the dirt that once housed the institute. Tim stoker wakes up in the middle of nowhere. Elias Bouchard is dead. No one knows where to go from there. Or: the destruction of one home and the making of another.

Still, I’ll Always Keep the Memory by @revolutionnaire-e

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27932125

Summary: [MARTIN turns, stepping out of the shadows towards him. It is blood, not tears. His left eye is not his own. His eyes never shone that blinding green, never shone with such malice or self-satisfied pride.] MARTIN BLACKWOOD Pleasure to see you again, Archivist.

Making Home by @cuddlytogas

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27664805

Summary: After the events in the Panopticon, Jon and Martin rush to leave London. But making their home in an idyllic safe house isn't that easy: between the layer of dust, and Forsaken still clinging to Martin's heels, it could be some time before they reach an understanding.

called your name ‘til the fever broke by @corpsesoldier

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27845161

Summary: Basira made a promise to her partner. At the end of the world, a monster comes and demands she keep it.

assorted family photos by @lesbianbirds

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27903979

Summary: When setting off on a research trip, it is advised that you prepare yourself for certain oddities that may greet you. or; key moments in a world where the entities are weaker and everyone got a bit more therapy

Timothy Stoker’s Guide to Dating by @pezilla

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27841267

Summary: Timothy Stoker has a lot of advice when it comes to matters of the heart, online agony aunt, gossip monger and general love guru. He has a list and he sticks to it. Or he did. That was before he took a job at the Magnus Institute and before he met three of the most fascinating and frustrating people to ever come into his life. Rule #7 under no circumstances fall for a co-worker. Yeah, that rule was starting to become a problem.

Running the Institute by @drowsy-salamander

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27878306

Summary: Caroline Ferguson, the entirety of the Magnus Institute's legal department, is furiously ignoring any weirdness that could be going on in her workplace, from the tech issues to the vanishing colleagues to the everything about Artefact Storage, Caroline will turn a very deliberate blind eye. They're are not her problem. Now if only those murders could also stop.

kindred spirits (not so scarce as I used to think) by @pollylittlehigher-littlelower

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27914821

Summary: An Anne of Green Gables inspired AU, set in modern day England. Jon and Georgie are childhood best friends, but the two stop talking after a falling out. Even doing their best to avoid each other, Georgie struggles to escape him, even while dealing with her own mental health issues and a blossoming romance with her housemate, Melanie. Is Jon truly the kindred spirit she once considered him? Or will the two eventually part ways for good?

Friends of Empty Graves by @artswaps

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27974807

Summary: After the coffin, she cuts her hair. Who is Alice Tonner? People are searching for her in the space she left behind, in the person she was. Daisy looks elsewhere, and tries not to choke.

just let the feeling grow by @ajkal2

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27838447

Summary: Jon is a musician. He plays songs for a living. Except love songs. He doesn't do love songs, and he makes this quite clear with anyone interested in working with him. Except his manager has booked him for a wedding. Without asking. With days before the festivities start, Jon needs help. Desperately. He won't get it from his hosts, the Lukas family. He certainly won't get it from his manager. However, there's a certain amateur poet on the Lukas' staff who has a talent for making love sound genuine.

World Cold and Hard, Moth Boy Warm and Soft by @lcjenkinswriting

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27827491

Summary: Jon, a young moth fairy, leaves the nest in search of a place that feels like home

tapes winding forward by @ghostbustermelanieking

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27858721

Summary: Martin ignores him, stops him mid-sentence to say, "Jon, what have you heard about time travel?" --- Martin and Jon wake up two years in the future. It goes about as well as can be expected.

MAG 26.5: Beach Episode by @ebenrosetaylor

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27882746

Summary: Sasha is aware of the rising tensions in the archives after Martin was stalked by Prentiss and after she had her own encounter with Michael. In an attempt to boost morale and bring them closer together, Tim suggests that they all visit the beach to unwind and get their minds off of all things paranormal. Sasha takes it upon herself to make sure that everyone has fun and relaxes, but she forgets to give herself that luxury.

Rewrite The Rulebook by @radiosandrecordings

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27823774

Summary: "Panic! Bloody panic! I've been out since I was fifteen and never once actually brought someone home. I think I just wanted to seem like I had my life together, y’know? Mainly I just... I think I just wanted someone to be there with me, so I wasn't just alone with her the entire time. A bit of comfort.” There was pause as Martin let out a dramatic sigh, seemingly relieved to ramble out his thoughts. "... I could go with you. If you want."

A Test In Patience by @talking4the1

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27917749

Summary: Elias is going about his day as the new head of the Magnus Institute in 1995. Some spreadsheets to do, meetings to attend mundane and supernatural. Nothing seems out of place until The Eye calls him to Bournemouth.

Of Mothers and Memory by @loverdontleave

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27856585

Summary:  There is a story to be told, of two people, a mother and a son. Of their history together, and the sacrifices they made for each other. Perhaps they loved each other once, but that thread of connection has weakened on one end, fraying away. And it is so, so cold.

Would That I Were Golden Dust by @that-one-girl-behind-you

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27734197

Summary: The world is a lot more dangerous with your soul walking by your side, and Entities aren’t shy about feeding on golden Dust.

Till Death, Parted by @bigowlenergy

Ao3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27749680

Summary: Jon gets caught after ripping out Gerry’s page by Trevor & Julia, and through a comedy of errors ends up engaged as an excuse. Somehow, Jon gets out alive, Gerry is freed, and they have the two hunters accompanying them as bodyguards - and as best man and best woman - without a fight. Living alone in Gerry’s London safe house afterwards will be totally fine. Jon is fine. He knows what coping is and everything! Totally fine.

The Spoken Word by @drumkonwords

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802708/chapters/68066326

Summary: Jon wants. Their pinky twitches — stretching and curling to the tune of something musical. The song of wanting, with its motifs of long, low notes. Starting quiet and mumbling up into Jon’s chest until the strings of their heart vibrate like the strings of a double bass and all they can do is wonder who’s tune they’re matching. But they know.

First Aid by @platypik

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27948284

Summary: Jon is certain Martin has been acting strangely all morning. When Martin offhandedly mentions he took a bad tumble off the tube to work, Jon suddenly Knows that the fall had given Martin a nasty fracture. Despite his desperate pleading, Martin stubbornly refuses to let Jon drive him to the hospital. In fact, it seems he would much rather take care of it himself than have Jon worry and fuss over him. Jon would disagree.

Burning Bright, In the Forests of the Night by @triffidsandcuckoos

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27915400

Summary: The safehouse bursts into flames at their backs. You can choose to change the path. Just be ready for what else you might change.

i’ve been static for too long by @furryjefferson

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27887878

Summary: Jonathan Sims ends up with a stranger’s phone on the way home from work. All signs point to the Magnus Institute, and all roads lead to its mysterious archivist: Martin Blackwood.

through the clouds like a moonbeam by @digital-waterfall 

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tmabb20/works/27877402

Summary: After passing through the Vast’s domain, Jon is left with an unexpected surprise-- a pair of wings. Unsurprisingly, Martin finds them beautiful. Also unsurprisingly, Jon does not.

#tma big bang 2020 #fic masterpost #the magnus archives #tma

[atths--twice]

A Slightly Different Path

Now, I may have already posted this story before, but once again, we can always use more fiction in our lives, right? 😊

I wrote this for a friend who supplied the idea of, what if in The Sixth Extinction, instead of Scully saying, “Maybe as his partner, but not as his doctor,” she had said “but not as his wife.”

I had started to write an Unnatural and Amor Fati story some time ago. They have been tweaked a bit to now fit this idea, and Amor Fati was completely broken down and restructured. I love when that happens, while simultaneously feeling like I want to pull my hair out. 😊

While I believe that All Things was the first time for these two, I find that there is wiggle room, if I supply the wiggle, by looking at it from a different angle. Now, that doesn’t mean I think this story is canon by any means, but if you squint, and imagine it, I think this could possibly work...

Chapter One      1/3

A Bit More Natural 

What if The Unnatural took a slightly different turn? 

The book slammed down onto the desk with a heavy thud. It registered to him, but only insomuch that he realized he had slid down in his chair and needed to readjust his positioning. He looked over the top of the book and saw Scully. He offered her no words as he pulled himself up into a more comfortable position.

He saw her in his peripheral, standing up on the desk and looking up through the basement windows. He paid her no attention, but continued to read the book in front of him.

“Mulder, it is such a gorgeous day outside,” she said with longing. “Do you ever entertain the idea of trying to find life on this planet?”

“I have seen the life on this planet, Scully, and that is exactly why I am looking elsewhere,” he said, as he turned the page in the book. A crinkling sound got his attention, and he looked over to see Scully taking an ice cream from a brown paper bag, opening it, and taking a bite.

“Did you bring enough ice cream to share with the rest of the class?” he asked with disbelief as she seemed to have forgotten about him.

“It's not ice cream,” she said smugly, as though she had bested him. “It's a nonfat tofutti rice dreamsicle.”

“Ugh. Bet the air in my mouth tastes better than that,” he said, with a disgusted face. “You sure know how to live it up, Scully.”

“Oh, you're Mr. Live-it-up,” Scully said as she started to step down off the desk. “Mulder, you're really Mr. “Squeeze every last drop out of this sweet life,” aren’t you?  On this precious Saturday you've got us grabbing life by the testes, stealing reference books from the FBI library in order to go through New Mexico newspaper obituaries for the years 1940 to 1949. And for what joyful purpose?” She stopped speaking and her words amused and aroused him.

“Looking for anomalies, Scully. Do you know how many so-called "flying disc" reports there were in New Mexico in the 1940s?” Ready to tell her, she interrupted him.

“I don't care. Mulder, this is a needle in a haystack. These poor souls have been dead for 50 years. Let them rest in peace. Let sleeping dogs lie,” she said, and he could hear her silent challenge.

“Well, I won't sit idly by as you hurl cliches at me. Preparation is the father of inspiration,” he said, throwing it back at her.

“Necessity is the mother of invention.”

“The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.”

“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die,” she said, with a mischievous smile as she took another bite.

“I scream, you scream, we all scream for nonfat tofutti rice dreamsicles,” he said, setting the book down and lunging for the cone. He grabbed her arm and held it as he took a bite.

“No-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!” Scully yelled, with laughter in her voice. “Mulder!” The cone broke and fell onto the page of the book as they tussled with it.

“Mulder!? You cheat,” she said, looking at him with a smile, as she licked the remnants of the dreamsicle off her fingers. “I can't believe that you've been reading about baseball this whole time.”

“Reading the box scores, Scully. You'd like it. It's like the Pythagorean Theorem for jocks. It distills all the chaos and action of any game in the history of all baseball games into one tiny, perfect, rectangular sequence of numbers,” he told her, trying to explain his fascination to her; to share his passion for something he had loved for so long. “I can look at this box and I can recreate exactly what happened on some sunny summer day back in 1947. It's like the numbers talk to me, they comfort me. They tell me that even though lots of things can change, some things do remain the same. It's...

“Boring.”

“Boring? How can you say that? Here, look,” he said, quickly wiping off the book and going back a few pages, to one he had been reading a few minutes ago. “Ah, here it is. Look right here. See the runs, hits, the score. Inning 3 was exceptionally interesting. And it went to extra innings. That’s always exciting. Plus, you know it was more … scrappy back then, so I’m sure some kind of fist fight broke out during the course of the game.” He looked at the box score again and he smiled. He could almost smell the grass and feel the heat of the sun on his skin as he watched the game in his mind.

“So,” Scully said beside him, bringing him back to the present in their air conditioned basement office that smelled of … well, Scully, if he was being honest. He could smell her above anything else, especially standing as close as he was now. “So … I’ve been up and down many flights of stairs, lugging those huge books around, while you’ve been sitting here reading about baseball? Imagining some sunny day as you ate popcorn and watched men hitting balls with sticks? Am I understanding that properly?” Her eyebrows were up and he knew he was in trouble.

“Not the whole time,” he said, and if it was possible, her eyebrows went up higher. “Really, Scully, I was looking for anomalies. I am looking for them.”

“Buuut …” she drawled out.

He sighed and dropped his head. “I was also looking at box scores.”

“While I …” she prompted.

“Carried large and heavy books up and down the stairs,” he said as he looked up at her. She nodded, a smile spreading across her lips before her tongue ran across them. He moaned internally as he watched her, wondering how her lips would taste.

“So,” she said again, stepping away from him and gesturing with her arm for him to walk ahead of her. “You’ve not only made me do most of the work, on a Saturday, in a business suit, but broken up my tofutti rice dreamsicle. You owe me a new one, so let’s do it, Baseball Boy.” She waved her hand again and stared at him, her eyebrows way up. He narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head. She snapped her fingers and pointed, causing him to sigh.

“Fine,” he said, stepping past her and grabbing his jacket off the coat rack. “But we’re getting real ice cream, because that tofutti shit is awful. I think the air in my mouth actually tastes worse now. How do you eat those? Ugh.”

“Well, I didn’t really get to eat much of it as you so kindly wrestled it out of my hand,” she snorted, as they walked out the door and she closed and locked it behind her. He nodded at the janitor and heard her say hello again as they made their way to the stairs.

“Well,” he said, as they then walked to the elevator and he pushed the up button. “I did you a favor then, because that was disgusting and you should never eat it again. Ever.” She smiled at him and once again licked her lips, making him exhale loudly and wish the elevator would hurry the hell up.

Two elevator rides later, they walked into the parking garage and over to his car, with her telling him he was driving and treating her to an afternoon away from the office.

“The whole afternoon? You said ice cream,” he deadpanned, having no intention to go back to the office now that they were outside of it, but not wanting her to know just yet. “Scully, there are still two or three books waiting to be gone through on my desk.” She stopped walking and stared at him. Oh, eyebrows down, no smile.

Backtrack man, backtrack, he thought.

“Fine, Scully. The afternoon is yours, what do you wish to do?” He bowed slightly and she hummed in the affirmative, her heels clicking along the concrete once again. Raising his head, he grinned at her back as she walked to the passenger side and waited for him to unlock the door.

He hurried over and unlocked it, both of them getting inside. Putting on their seatbelts, she looked at him with a smirk. “Ice cream first. You need to begin your payment. I carried four books up and down the stairs. If each book weighed about twenty pounds -”

“Twenty pounds,” he snorted.

“Yeah, twenty pounds,” she insisted as she stared at him, and he looked away with a smile as he shook his head. “That’s eighty pounds total. If you’re going to make it up to me, well, you’re in serious debt right now. So, ice cream first and then we’ll see what else you can do to work off your payment.” He looked at her and she raised one eyebrow, smiling saucily.

He wondered if she would still be smiling if she could read his mind and see the sudden thoughts running wild in there. Naked thoughts, of his fingers trailing across her soft skin as she moaned into his mouth, her tongue wrapped around his.

“Mulder?” she said, a curious look on her face. He cleared his throat and turned on the car, backed up, and put it in drive.

“Ice cream first,” he agreed, hoping the cold treat would lower his temperature. But then she arched her back, sticking out her chest as she adjusted her position. He could picture his face between her breasts as his hands mapped out terrain he never wanted to leave.

Blood, the smell of the sewer, pustules, he thought, turning out of the parking garage and heading to the nearby ice cream shop, trying to calm his racing pulse.

___________________

“I won’t be able to finish all of this, Mulder,” she said, looking at her ice cream skeptically. “No chance. So it looks like your debt still holds.” Lifting her spoon to her mouth, she gave him a look as she took a dainty bite.

“Whatever you don’t eat, I’ll finish, so we’re square,” he said with a wink. She widened her eyes in response, looking at her bowl full of ice cream and then his, shaking her as she did. “You don’t think I can?”

“I don’t think you should,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ll get a stomach ache for sure.”

“Well, then I guess you better eat up,” he said, gesturing with his chin for her to get back to her treat. She sighed and took another bite, bigger than the last. He nodded at her and suddenly she reached up and ran her thumb across his lips. He froze at the feel of her warm fingers on his cool mouth and he stared at her as she looked at his lips.

“You’ve got hot fudge just there,” she told him as she wiped at it and then stuck her finger in her mouth, sucking off the chocolate, humming as she did. His brain short circuited and he forgot to breathe, letting out a large puff of air when he did remember to do so. She looked at him strangely, but said nothing.

Flukemen, Frohike shirtless, aliens ripping themselves from inside a person's body, he repeated over and over in his mind as he felt his jeans tighten, thoughts of that chocolate sauce being used in different ways firing into his synapses. Scully continued to eat her ice cream, oblivious to any of his discomfort.

When he was sure he could function normally, he began to eat his ice cream, the hot fudge cooled and thicker than it had been at first bite. He ate it all, even lifting the bowl and drinking the melted bit at the bottom, much to Scully’s horror. He set the bowl down and wiped his mouth on a napkin.

He glanced at Scully’s bowl and raised his eyebrows. “Do you need me to finish that for you or …” She shook her head and ate the last couple of bites. “Aww, Scully, see? I knew you could do it.” He winked at her again and she rubbed her stomach, grimacing as she did.

“When this inevitably begins to make my stomach hurt, you’re going to hear about it,” she told him, standing up and wiping off her hand. She picked up their trash and disposed of it, walking back to their table.

He stood up and stretched, rubbing his stomach, and grabbed his jacket. They walked outside and he let her lead the way to their next adventure.

They found themselves in a park with an open air art festival and she smiled at Mulder as she raised her eyebrows. He shrugged and they continued inside. Music and food was available as well, but the scent of meat and spices made his stomach turn.

“Best not tell Scully,” he muttered under his breath. She had stopped a few feet from him watching a play some children were performing about the importance of spring.

They were singing and dancing, dressed as flowers and bees. Mulder had no idea what they were saying, his eyes only on Scully. She was smiling and laughing at the antics of the children and suddenly he saw her bleeding to death on his living room floor, the choking stench of blood overpowering. He shook his head and blinked his eyes as she awwwed at something one of the little flowers did on stage.

She’s right there. She’s not bleeding out. Touch her and see, he told himself firmly. Reaching for her elbow, he sighed when it was solid and she smiled at him in question. He shook his head and looked at the children, keeping his fingers on her elbow, needing to keep a hold on her to know for certain.

Applause rang out and he moved his hand to clap along with the crowd. She motioned for them to continue to the art and he nodded. Many different booths were set up, along with portable walls, the art hanging from them.

Children, animals, fruit, sunsets, beach scenes, and many others were depicted in drawings, paintings, and even small sculptures. Scully’s smile was ever present as she looked at everything, but one in particular he noticed she kept returning to and he stopped to watch her look at it.

It was a smallish sized painting of a house, nothing special about it, but a house that seemed to draw her eye. The sky was the golden hour of sunset when the air seemed to shine and make everything beautiful; beachgrass bent over in front of the house, as though the wind was pushing it. A rocking chair sat on the porch, a colorful quilt hanging on the back.

“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” Scully asked quietly. “It’s like a place where nothing bad could happen. Everyone is probably down at the beach, packing up from their day out in the warm air. The kids are tired and brown from the sun, their hair tousled, feet covered in sand. The adults are wrestling and cursing all the extremely important items they brought with them.” She sighed and smiled softly, staring at the painting.

Mulder could picture everything she described. The voices calling to one another as they walked the path to the house, tired, but the memories of the day sealed in their minds. They would not remember the exhaustion later, only the fun, and the way the sun bounced off the water.

“But what we don’t see,” he added softly, “their grandmother, who doesn’t get around as well as she used to, just left that rocking chair to check on the meal she’s been preparing. A delicious garden salad, fried chicken, and an apple pie for dessert.” She turned to him with a smile and he shrugged. “I mean, why not?” He smiled at her and she nodded, her arm looping through his, to his surprise.

“Mulder, you truly do keep unfolding like a flower,” she teased, and he chuckled softly with a nod.

They kept on, looking at the paintings, separating as they found different things that drew their eye. When they reached the end of the festival, she motioned for them to keep walking and he nodded.

“See, Mulder?” Scully said, taking off her blazer and folding it over her arm. “Isn’t this better than being in that stuffy basement office?” He shrugged and she hit his arm with a shake of her head.

“It’s nice I suppose, not very …”

“Alien?” she joked, and he shrugged again. “Mulder, not everything has to be an anomaly or unexplainable. Can’t you just enjoy a gorgeous spring day?”

“I am,” he said defensively, and she laughed. He extended his arm and she took it again as they walked through the park.

People walked past, children laughing as people picnicked on the grass and on nearby benches. Spying an empty one, she steered them toward the bench and they lay their jackets across the back before they sat down.

“Life is meant to be lived, Mulder, not only read about in a book. No matter how interesting the box scores may be.” She smiled and he leaned back, crossing his arms with his eyebrows raised.

“I never said I wouldn’t enjoy being outside, Scully, just that it tended to lack a certain … paranormal bouquet,” he said, his eyes on hers.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, smiling at him as she leaned back, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

The warm wind whipped quickly and her hair blew into her face. He reached out before she had a chance and moved it, tucking it behind her ear. Her eyes opened as he did and she stared at him, her expression unreadable. Clearing his throat, he moved his hand and leaned back, his hands in his lap. Her eyes closed again and he watched her relaxing in the warm afternoon sun.

“What do you say to getting some dinner later?” she asked a little while later, both of them companionably silent. Looking at him, she smiled and he nodded. “I’d like to change first though, as being in a work suit is not my favorite thing to wear on a Saturday,” she said, rising from the bench and giving him a look.

“No one said you had to wear a suit,” he told her, standing up with her, grabbing both of their jackets. Giving him another look, he nodded, knowing that not appearing professional would not fly with her. “Okay, we’ll head back and, sure, dinner sounds good.”

Dropping her back at her car, she smiled as she drove away. He decided to go back inside and put away the books they had taken out. No reason to leave them out and hear her complaints about them come Monday.

He smiled as he began to stack the books, grimacing at the ice cream spots on the pages, hoping they would not get called out on them.

“Well, not ice cream,” he laughed, reaching to check the pages when he saw a picture that stopped him in his tracks. “Is that Arthur Dales?” Looking closer, he saw that it was. His head snapped up and made sure no one was around before he ripped the page from the book.

He grabbed his jacket and put the page in his pocket. The books were left on the desk as he walked out the door, Scully’s gasp at him defacing government property almost audible in the empty office. Closing and locking the door, he headed to Arthur’s place, the dinner plans with Scully completely forgotten.

_____________

Hours later, the story Arthur told him still filling him with bittersweet feelings, he stood in the ball field, the shirt from Arthur worn proudly on his back. The machine he rented was set up and Poorboy stood ready to pitch them out for him, a big smile on his face.

“Ten bucks an hour, Mister,” he reminded Mulder as he started to walk toward home plate.

“Sheesh kid, I know. You ain’t cheap,” he said, shaking his head and looking back at Poorboy, who grinned wider.

Walking on, he glanced around but did not see Scully. He had called her, leaving a message with her answering service. He hoped she would get it and decide to come and meet him. After that story, he wanted to share something he loved with her, as she had done with him today.

He knew Scully enjoyed nice things. Her apartment was beautifully decorated and comfortable. She liked art museums and old books, but he was not sure if she had ever hit a baseball just for the fun of it. If she had ever experienced the feeling of contact with the ball as it sailed far into the outfield.

Tonight, he was hoping to share that with her.

“All right, Poorboy,” Mulder called out, his toes digging at home plate, taking a few practice swings. “I’m ready.” A ball was placed in the machine and it shot out, flying quickly toward him. He swung and missed, digging at home plate again.

More balls flew his way and he hit and missed them equally, not caring if he did or not. He found that all he zeroed in on was the anticipation of the ball and the feeling of impact when he hit it with the bat. The sound of it was like beautiful music and he got lost in the melody, thoughts of anything else far from his mind.

“So, uh... I get this message marked "urgent" on my answering service from one Fox Mantle, telling me to come down to the park for a very special, very early or very late birthday present. And, Mulder... I don't see any nicely wrapped presents lying around, so what gives?” He heard Scully saying behind him and he smiled, happy she decided to meet him.

“You've never hit a baseball, have you, Scully?” he asked her, hitting another ball.

“No, I guess I have, uh... found more necessary things to do with my time than... slap a piece of horsehide with a stick,” she said rather condescendingly as he hit a foul ball.

“Get over here, Scully,” he said, turning to look at her over his shoulder. She uncrossed her arms and pushed from the backstop, walking toward him as he held the bat out for her. He stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her tightly, holding the bat with her as she took it from him.

“This my birthday present, Mulder?” she asked him warily. “You shouldn't have.”

“This ain't cheap. I'm paying that kid ten bucks an hour to shag balls,” he said, close to her ear, gesturing to Poorboy.

“Hey, it's not a bad piece of ash, huh?” he teased, and Scully turned to give him a look, one he knew too well. “The bat- talking about the bat.” She turned back slightly and he smiled.

“Now, don't strangle it. You just want to shake hands with it. "Hello, Mr. Bat. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." "Oh, no, no, Ms. Scully. The pleasure's all mine." She laughed his name and he was thrilled by it.

“Okay, now, we want to... we want to go hips before hands, okay?” he said, moving his hand close to her hip, but careful not to touch her. “We want to stride forward and turn. That's all we're thinking about. So, we go hips... before hands, all right?” This time he did touch her hip lightly with his hand, while using his own hips to turn her body the right way.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“One more time,” he said, wanting to see if he could actually get away with being so bold. He touched her hip with more pressure and he would swear on a stack of bibles that he heard her gasp. “Hips... before hands, all right?” Her gasp ringing in his ears and causing his heart to race.

“Yeah,” she agreed again.

“What is it?” he asked, wanting to hear her say it.

“Hips before hands,” she said, and it settled in his memory.

“Right,” he said, very close to her ear. “We're going to wait on the pitch. We're going to keep our eye on the ball. Then, we're just going to make contact. We're not going to think. We're just going to let it fly, Scully, okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded.

“Ready?”

He tried to readjust their grip on the bat, moving his hands down to how they should be, while also messing around with her. Both of them struggling for the space and he grinned.

“I'm in the middle,” Scully said, and he did it a bit more, loving the feeling of not being them for a moment, but silly and free. She got her hands back between his and he could hear her smile and laugh

“All right, fire away, Poorboy,” he called out and a ball flew their way as they swung at it together. They made contact but it was definitely a foul.

“Ooh! That's good,” he said, hearing her laugh. “All right, what you may find is you concentrate on hitting that little ball... the rest of the world just fades away, all your everyday, nagging concerns-” Scully giggled as they got ready to hit another ball.

“The ticking of your biological clock,” he said, as they landed another hit.

“How you probably couldn't afford that nice, new suede coat on a G-Woman's salary,” he said, letting her know he had noticed her new coat, saying without words that it looked nice on her. Another crack of the bat and he felt that happiness he had earlier, but doubled now that she was there with him.

“How you threw away a promising career in medicine…” he all but whispered into her ear. “To hunt aliens with a crackpot, albeit brilliant, partner.” She turned her head and gave him another patented Scully look.

“Getting into the heart of a global conspiracy. Your obscenely overdue triple-X bill. Oh, I... I'm sorry, Scully. Those last two problems are mine, not yours,” he said, keeping it light as they hit another ball.

“Shut up, Mulder,” she said and he could hear the smile in her voice. “I'm playing baseball.” Another swing and she laughed as they hit the ball. Over and over, they did it, her laughter ringing out in the night air.

His love for baseball had been a part of him most of his life. Now he shared it with her, literally sharing a bat between them as they hit the balls into the middle of the field. He made to step back, giving her a turn on her own, but she gave him another look, and his grip tightened on the bat once again.

So much had happened recently, their lives flipped upside down, but she was there with him, laughing and enjoying herself. The feel of her in his arms made him happier than he had been in a very long time.

When the last ball had been hit and Poorboy put up his empty hands, they laughed as they dropped the bat and stepped apart. She pushed her hair out of her face, wearing a huge smile, as she turned to look at Mulder and then out to Poorboy, who was running around collecting the baseballs.

“We should help him, Mulder,” she said softly, her smile still in place. “He’s a child and that’s a lot of balls.” He grinned at her and she gave him a teasing look as she walked away, her hips swinging more than usual.

Hips before hands indeed, he thought, his eyes unable to look away until she squatted down to pick up a ball.

“Jesus,” he muttered, shaking his head as he started to walk out and gather up the balls.

Back and forth they walked, depositing the balls into the basket. Once it was full, Mulder took out his wallet and handed Poorboy a twenty dollar bill. He looked at it and grinned, taking off at a run. Mulder picked up the basket and pushed the machine toward the backstop.

As they walked to home plate, Scully picked up the bat, smiling at Mulder as she did. They dropped off the machine and the basket of balls at the park office. Walking away, he took the bat from Scully and put his hand out, hoping she would take it. When she did, he smiled and locked their fingers together, his heart pounding.

They arrived at their cars and he let go of her hand to put the bat in the backseat. Turning back around, he crossed his arms and stared at her. She smiled, the one he loved most: all her teeth showing before she licked her lips. Once again, he groaned internally, imagining how they would taste.

Stepping forward, she put her hand on his arm. “Thank you for my present, Mulder,” she whispered. He nodded and stared into her eyes. She smiled again, pushing on his arms, bringing him closer to her height, her lips on his before he had a chance to think.

She stepped back and he leaned toward her, dropping his arms and stared at her. He cupped her face, leaning close to kiss her again, her hands coming up to hold onto his forearms.

Her lips were so soft, their kiss sweet, until she opened her mouth and her tongue licked his lips. He opened his mouth immediately, kissing her deeper, allowing her tongue access to explore. His hands moved to the back of her head and her waist, pulling her closer. She melted into him, holding his shirt as she fell flush against him.

Pulling back for air, she stumbled backward, and with the tight grip on his shirt, she pulled him with her, crashing into the side of her car. He kissed her again, her hands going around his back, holding him close as their tongues learned each other.

“Ohhh …” she breathed when he pulled back, staring at her as his lungs burned with the need for oxygen. “We need… we need to go. We should…” She pushed him from her and nervously smoothed her hair and clothes. “I should go. We…”

She licked her lips and he felt his jeans tighten, no longer wondering how her lips tasted. Peppermint. She tasted of the peppermint tea she drank and he ached for another taste.

“I should go,” she said, and stepped past him, fumbling with her keys.

“Scully, wait. Just…” he pleaded and she looked at him and then around the ballpark.

“We need to go. We, as in both of us,” she said forcefully. “Together.” She smiled and he realized what she was implying. “My place is closer,” she said as she got in the car. Backing up, she nodded with that same big smile, and drove away.

“Holyyyyyy shiiiiiiit,” he breathed. Standing frozen for what felt like an eternity, he took his keys from his pocket, dropped them with a curse, and picked them up again. He drove away, tires screeching as he did, seatbelt unsecured, a smile plastered on his face as he followed her home.

______________

Arriving at her place, she opened the door and, less than a second later, he had her pressed against the closing door; her arms around his neck and his tongue in her mouth.

Peppermint.

She pushed him forward, taking off her jacket when she had the space. It dropped to the floor and she reached for her top, pulling it over her head and dropping it onto the floor. He shook his head at her light pink bra that did nothing to hide her hard nipples.

She reached around to take it off and it dropped to the floor and so did he, on his knees before the goddess Dana Scully, his face pressing into her stomach, his arms around her, sitting under her ass.

“Scully,” he murmured, peppering her stomach with kisses. Looking up, he saw her looking down at him, her chest rising and falling.

“Mulder,” she whispered, arousal but also worry in her eyes. He quickly rose off his knees and kissed her, hoping to waylay any fears.

“Bedroom,” she whispered against his mouth, and grabbed the front of his shirt, bringing him along.

Once in her room, it was as though they had danced this dance thousands of time. They fumbled a bit, shoes and socks providing a giggling problem, and buttons sticking as they tried to hurry to get them open.

But when they came together, flesh to flesh, it was perfect. He leaned over her, kissing her, her tongue sweeter than anything he had ever tasted. Her skin was soft and hot under his fingers, trembling as he touched places that made her moan. He kissed her chest, his mouth worshipping her breasts, paying special attention to the rosy pink nipples begging for his tongue and teeth.

Her stomach jumped as he licked at her abdomen, the muscles clenching beneath his mouth. He felt her fingers gripping his hair and he grinned, knowing she knew where he was headed, the scent of her arousal intoxicating him.

“Mulder,” she gasped as he kissed her pubis, the hair sparse. “Oh, yes, Mulder.” She opened her legs wider, her heels on his back as he licked her and she moaned and gripped his hair tighter. “Please…”

That was the last word he heard her say as he set to work doing just that, pleasing her. Kissing, licking, sucking, he took his cues from her. The way she held his hair, arched into his mouth, and how her legs trembled. He paid attention to it all, learning the way she liked to be loved, the taste of her beyond exquisite.

“Mulderrrrrr!” she cried, holding his hair tightly, her legs closing around him as she came. “Ohhhhh…” He stayed where he was, softly kissing, until she relaxed around him.

When he felt her grip loosen, he kissed her inner thigh, finding a freckle there that he wanted to kiss forever. Following a path up, he kissed her hip bones, belly button, the rosy pink nipples, her neck, and finally her lips.

Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer to her, her fingers digging into his arms as he kissed her. He positioned himself at her entrance and pulled back to watch her face as he slid inside of her.

“Oh God, Mulder,” she breathed, and he echoed her words. “Oh… my God…” she said again, staring at him until her eyes rolled back, her legs pulling him even closer to her.  

“Scully… ohhh,” He pulled out and slid back in, the feel of her all around him, enveloping him just as her body was doing.

She clawed at him, his name tumbling from her lips, her body arching into him. He fell forward, his face at her neck, her breasts pressed into his chest as he went faster, unable to take it slow, the feeling too amazing.

“Scully, Jesus, you feel so good,” he moaned and she cried out his name.

“Oh, Christ,” she moaned out in a low voice, the pitch escalating as her hips met his thrusts, crying out his name over and over, their pace hurried as they chased something they had been after for years, the goal finally in sight. He kissed her neck as her cries grew louder, and they crashed over the edge together.

“Ohhhhh Mulder,” she breathed, her chest rising and falling, arms and legs holding him close, their bodies still rocking slowly. “Mmmmmm, my God …” Her hands ran up and down his back, her nails scratching lightly.

“Scully, oh, Scully,” he said, pushing up and looking down at her. Her hair spilled across her pillow, sweat beading upon her forehead. She smiled at him, her hands reaching for his face, pushing his hair back.

“Mulder,” she whispered and he kissed her, rolling them to their sides, keeping them connected. She pulled back and stared at him, her hand on his face once again.  

“Hi,” she whispered, grinning at him as she stroked his face.

“Hi,” he answered with a matching grin, his hand on her hip. Shaking his head, he opened his mouth and closed it, words failing him.

“I know,” she whispered with a nod and a shake of her head, causing him to laugh softly. “For the record, while I had fun tonight, this kind of present is one I enjoy much more. I even got to unwrap it.” He laughed again and moved a little, shifting their bodies. “Mulder…” She stared at him and he nodded.

“I know,” he echoed her words, the humor out of her eyes, the realization of what they had done showing on her face. “Scully, stop those thoughts.” He pushed her hair back and stared at her, shaking his head. “Don’t think right now.”

“Okay,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him, and move closer. “That was… oh, Mulder.” She nuzzled into his neck and he felt her shake her head.

“A home run?” he teased, hoping to halt whatever she might be thinking. She pulled back and looked at him, a huge grin on her face and then she was laughing, her head falling to his neck.

“Yeah, I’d say it was. And a single as well,” she said, looking at him again. He wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed, shaking her head. Sighing, she snuggled into him again and they were quiet, both thinking about what just happened.

“Scully,” he began, and she stopped him.

“Mulder, let’s just…” she said and he nodded, quiet as he held her, his fingers running softly across her back.

They must have dozed, as he woke some time later on his back, her head on his shoulder. He looked down at her and smiled, not wanting to wake her just yet. He got up carefully to use the bathroom, moving quietly around the room.

Standing in her doorway watching her sleep, he felt worried. Now that daylight would be breaking soon, what if she told him this was a mistake? What if she regretted this evening and wanted to go back to how things were, forgetting this ever happened? He shook his head and quietly collected his clothes, getting dressed quickly, needing time to think.

Driving away, he knew he was being a goddamn coward, but that had been a huge step and the repercussions could be astronomical. He was scared, he would admit that, but only in the confines of his car.

“Jesus Christ, man. Go back,” he muttered, but could not make his body listen.

Stopped at a red light, he hit the steering wheel, angry at himself. Looking around, he saw a bakery opening and made a quick decision. Picking up a half a dozen bagels and a container of cream cheese, he drove back to her apartment, quietly letting himself in with his key.

The cream cheese in the fridge, he set the bagels on the counter. Looking in on her once more, he knew this was the right decision. They needed space to think separately and come to terms with tonight.

Locking the door behind him, he hummed on the way to the car. He knew her, really knew her, and he would give her what she needed.

Well, more so than I did tonight, he thought, the memory of the taste of her kiss, her skin, of her making him grin. Shaking his head, he got in the car, driving home to use the computer and see if he could find the artist of the painting they saw earlier today. He had a new take on the story and he wanted to find it so he could share it with her.

The people in that house were not coming back from a day at the beach. No, they were already home. Lying in bed, sated and happy, the basket of baseballs spilled next to the bat that had been dropped on the floor in their haste to get to the bedroom. Grinning at the thought, he sped up, wanting to get home faster, needing something to occupy his mind.

He knew once she had the painting and heard the updated version of the story, she would accept it with a knowing smile.

Yeah, he thought with a smile and a nod, his foot pressing harder on the gas, this is a home run of an idea..

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #The Unnatural #A slight AU turn in the road #I could see this happening #Day out together #Ice Cream #First Kiss #First Time #Sexy Sexy Times

[unnecessarygayfeelings]

Finished my Farafey fanficton! Here’s a link to it on ao3, but I know not everyone uses that, so I’ll post it here under the read more. No content warnings (there’s a small mention of alcohol, but no one is intoxicated), just 2k words of fluff. This is for the Farafey micronation especially @aquilamage because she has epic content that inspires me a lot.

Lavender Lip Gloss

It was new year's eve and Kay was going to be late to the party because her roommate was hogging the bathroom.

Kay should be used to this, really. Ever since she and Sebastian decided to rent an apartment together at the ripe old age of nineteen, she became well aware of her friend's quirks. But she could handle the misplaced pens, loud classical music, and endless pacing at ungodly hours of the night. She would be a hypocrite if she judged him, though. Half of the pens they owned were probably on her desk, and in the early mornings she liked to sing her favourite pop songs in the shower. They argued about who was the cause of their the noise complaints every time they received one.

They've been roommates for years now. Kay was used to Sebastian's habits... except for one.

"Seb, leave the goddamn door open when you're just fixing your hair! I need the hairspray!"

It took a long time for Sebastian to break the habit of placing barriers between them when it wasn't necessary (Kay had grown up in a home with open doors and open hearts; she wants the same for Sebastian), and eventually he stopped locking the door behind him every time he entered a room. Kay respected Sebastian's need for privacy. But she also respected their friendship, and that's why she knew that what she was about to do was not only expected, but acceptable in their tiny apartment. She took a step back, lifted her leg and opened the door with one swift kick.

There was a high-pitched yelp from Sebastian, who had styling gel on his hands, a strand of hair sticking up on his head, and an unimpressed expression on his face as he saw Kay's triumphant smile. "I-I was almost done!"

"You always say that, and then you end up taking another thirty minutes," Kay replied, grabbing her hair spray and securing her high ponytail right there. Sebastian's face scrunched at the smell. She sprayed a little bit of the product in his hair, too. They both laughed, doing the finishing touches on both of their party looks together.

After a final once-over from each of them ("The green button-up was a good choice, right, Kay?" "Yeah, but what about this silver skirt?"), they were ready to go to the new year's party. It was at Miles's house this year, and if they both weren't used to bothering him at every location possible, it might have felt a bit weird to party at the boss's place.

When they arrived at Miles's house, the host himself greets them. Although he does look genuinely pleased to see them, his smile turns strained when Kay tells him to "prepare for trouble, and make it double". While Sebastian is making small talk with Edgeworth, Kay lets her mind trail elsewhere— to the reason she was so eager to get to the party in the first place.

Maya Fey had been in Kura'in for a while now. Despite their friendship being long-distance, they were still very close. Their bond was just as strong as Kay's with Sebastian, although she felt very different about Maya than him. Kay's heart soared every time her phone dinged with a new message. She circled dates on the calendar with a violet marker whenever they planned to video chat. The time difference was brutal, but Kay would gladly stay up late just to hear Maya's voice.

"Waiting for s-someone special?" Sebastian's teasing voice broke Kay out of her thoughts. She hadn't even realized that Miles was long gone. The only one next to her was her best friend, who was looking extra smug. Of course Sebastian knew about her crush. He was the one Kay would go to at one in the morning, bombarding him with texts and asking him if he thought there was a deeper meaning to them. The deeper meaning, he would tell her, is that you both like each other and it's only a matter of time before one of you make a move. He was being ridiculous, of course. Just because Maya called her pretty and laughed a little too loud at her jokes and had a purple heart emoji next to her contact name didn't mean anything.

Okay, it definitely meant something, but Kay wasn't going to take the first step and confess or anything because... she was shy. Ugh. She wasn't used to being shy. Sebastian was the shy one, not her. But Kay hadn't seen Maya in person in what felt like forever (it had been six months), so who knows. Maybe she would make a move.

"Hey, there she is!"

Kay's head shot up, pure enthusiasm with a twinge of anxiousness filling her whole body. She looked to where Sebastian was pointing, and there she was.

Maya Fey was here. Maya Fey was looking around the room. Maya Fey was making eye contact with her. Maya Fey was walking towards her.

"Hey!" Maya Fey's voice sounded so much more real when it wasn't through a speakerphone, all light and chipper. Kay wasn't sure how she'd survive the night, let alone make a move.

"Hi, Maya!" Sebastian greeted, holding out his arms and allowing a brief hug. Maya showed her affection through touch: high fives, hair ruffles, and hand holding. Kay was the same which was one of the reasons why their long distance communication was difficult. You couldn't embrace someone through a screen.

Then Maya turned towards her, arms outstretched, and Kay found herself being pulled in like a magnet. Maya's hugs were warm and welcoming. She didn't miss how they both lingered, the hug lasting many seconds longer than a hug Kay would have with any other friend, even Sebastian. But eventually they had to (slowly) pull away.

"It seems like forever since I've seen you!" Maya exclaimed, looking up at Kay with a big grin. "You look great! I love your skirt!"

Kay's brain seemed to short-circuit. Maya was wearing a cute pink party dress and her long hair was in its usual style, decorated with sparkly hair clips. Her lips were shiny with a purple gloss. It was a light shade, like lavender. Was this weird, just staring at her lips? She needed to respond before it got weird. "Thanks! I love your lip gloss!"

Okay, so now Maya had solid proof that she was staring at her lips. Oops. But Maya just smiled at her. "Haha, thanks! Do you guys want a drink? I saw Miles bought the good champagne."

Had he? Kay didn't even notice. Sebastian nods and then a minute later Maya is offering her a drink. Kay takes the glass, and tries not to think about the brush of Maya's fingers against hers too much.

Conversation is easy. Maya asks what they've been up to since the last time they talked. Kay feels like this question is more for Sebastian, since her and Maya just talked this morning on the phone. Sebastian tells her about his latest case (not a murder, thankfully), and Kay includes details from her perspective as the detective assigned. She's sure she had mentioned this case to Maya before, but Maya seems very interested anyways.

When they ask what news Maya has, she perks up tremendously. "I've finally mastered the bowl without falling on my face!"

Recently, Maya has taken up skateboarding while in Kura'in. Pearl has been the one teaching her; she was very talented, and had a cool skateboard with a flame design on the sides. Kay had been blessed with many cute selfies of Maya in her skating gear (lavender knee and elbow pads, and a florescent pink helmet that could probably blind a person if they stared too long at it) and ten second clips of her skating around in sunglasses, striking poses at the camera. Maya was a beginner but she refused to give up, despite the constant complaining of bumps and bruises from falling all the time.

"Really?" Kay gasps. She's received many texts about the bowl, and according to Maya it was one of the most difficult things to master in her life. ("It's harder than channeling spirits, Kay! Stop laughing, it's the truth!") Kay had never skateboarded before so she felt like she couldn't judge but it certainly didn't look easy.

Maya quickly pulls her phone out of her dress pocket. "Let me show you. Pearly got it on tape! Proof that I'm not making it up to sound cool or anything."

Kay believed her. Maya wouldn't need to make stuff up to sound cool. She unlocked her phone (Kay felt herself blush at the lockscreen— it's a selfie that they had taken the last time Kay was in Kura'in, a trip that was impulsive and expensive but she didn't regret it one bit) and pulled up a video of Maya on top of the bowl. Pearl can be heard off-camera shouting encouragement. Then Maya adjusts her helmet, balances herself on her board, and slides down the bowl in one swift movement. She skids to a stop once she's on the ground. The last thing they hear before the video cuts out is Maya and Pearl screaming with excitement.

"That's so cool!" Kay exclaims, genuinely impressed.

Sebastian's eyes are nearly bugging out of his head. "Whoa! You look like a pro-professional skateboarder!"

"Yeah, this makes all the times I fell down on my butt worth it," Maya says, grinning from ear to ear. They talk some more before Maya goes to mingle with an old friend.

"Hey, do either of you know where Nick is? I want to bug him before the year ends."

Sebastian points Phoenix out across the room, where he is currently distracted by his daughter Trucy pulling an comically long scarf out of the tiny pocket on her blouse. A mischievous smile, a wave of her hand, and Maya's off.

There's a brief silence as they watch Maya leave. Sebastian turns to Kay with the same shit-eating grin he has when he's about to say something clever. "Kay? I diagnose you with gay. Lesbianism, if you want to be specific."

Kay groans. "I know, I know."

"Well, it's clear that she likes you, too, so I don't see what the con-conundrum is."

Kay believed that she was a relatively logical person. Her field of work made use of that trait, tested it. And now she was being presented with more evidence and a restless witness. The pieces fit together perfectly— Maya Fey liked her. The only question was what she going to do with this information.

"Was I... obvious about it?"

Sebastian raises his eyebrow. Takes a long sip of of his drink. "Is that a trick question?"

Not everyone Mr. Edgeworth invited was at the party, but the house is noisy regardless. Friends and acquaintances are talking in groups, there's music coming from an unknown source, the television is playing a new year's special, and Kay's heart is beating up a storm. Despite all of the activity, Kay thinks her heart is the loudest thing in this place.

Sebastian is tapping his fingers against the table next to them. Another noise, although it's muffled by the black gloves he's wearing. "Well, I know you don't like champagne."

Kay looks down at the drink Maya gave her, still full. The condensation from the glass mixes with the sweat on her palm. The feeling of Maya's hand brushing against hers lingers.

In the distance, Maya nudges Phoenix roughly in the side, and his drink splashes on his shirt. Maya laughs and then points at the stain, exclaiming loudly that it kind of looks like the Blue Badger. Phoenix seems to push his annoyance aside to carefully examine his sleeve. Maya calls other people over to look, a light yet determined expression on her face, and Kay can feel herself fall a little more in love.

...

The flashy countdown screen on the TV lights up, signaling the last minute of the year. Kay smiles and swirls the untouched champagne in her glass. She's lost in the way the tiny bubbles cling onto the sides of the cup until something distracts her. Or more accurately, someone.

"Hey," Maya says, placing her own glass on the table in front of them.

"Hey," Kay echoes back intelligently. She places her glass next to Maya's as her friend (she ignores the tightening in her chest when she calls her that; she's not sure there's a single word in this world to describe what Maya is to her) sits down next to her.

There's a moment of silence between them. Maya smells like jasmine and nostalgia. Kay wants to look but she's glowing like the sun, so she decides to play it safe and stare ahead. She sees Sebastian and Klavier talking about something, but she can't concentrate enough on their voices to know the topic.

Maya's voice snaps Kay out of her trance. "Happy new year."

For a split second, Kay thinks she miscounted the seconds, and missed the celebration. She checks the television quickly, and sighs with relief. "You're about thirty seconds too early, but I appreciate your enthusiasm." Then she had to use all of her strength to resist the urge to kick herself for sounding so weird.

"Oh." Cheeks flushed red for sure, Kay risks a glance at Maya. She doesn't regret it. She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of seeing Maya smile. "Happy new year's eve, then?"

She barely pulls herself together before responding in a passably-normal-although-probably-too-eager tone. "Yeah! Happy new year's eve!"

Maya laughs at that, and Kay can physically feel her heart soar. She knows it's bad to look at the sun but she can't help it, and within seconds she's pretty sure she could map out all the freckles on Maya's face. Kay stares too long to pass as normal and she knows it. But Maya is staring, too.

"TEN SECONDS!" Kay doesn't recognizes whose enthusiastic yelling the voice belongs to, but she doesn't even bother tearing her eyes away from Maya.

Ten.

Maya is sitting so close to her that their thighs are touching. How did Kay not notice that until now?

Nine.

Maya hesitantly reaches over and touches Kay's hand with her own.

Eight.

Her hand is shaking slightly. It's sweaty, too. Kay doesn't complain. She's probably the same.

Seven.

Kay curls their fingers together. She can't seem to stop smiling.

Six.

There's no denying it. The walls between them tumble down to reveal something a bit more than friendship, a bit more than just simple attraction.

Five.

Kay wants to say something, anything, but she's been rendered speechless. She's pretty sure she looks ridiculous. Ridiculously lovestruck.

Four.

Maya's other hand reaches over to brush Kay's hair out of her face, and her touch lingers near her cheek.

Three.

There's a line that they haven't neared, trying to maintain their friendship. Maya is standing at the edge of it, threatening to cross over.

Two.

Maya tilts her head, leans in, and closes her eyes. Kay can't hear the music over her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

One.

Kay closes her eyes, leans in, and unconsciously holds her breath.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Their lips met, and Kay smudges Maya's lavender lip gloss.

#farafey #maya fey #kay faraday #yes aquilamage i was the writing team anon AND playlist anon. sorry for constantly being on anon in your inbox i am unfortunately v shy haha #but i finally have content!!! whoop whoop #ace attorney fanfiction #personal

[a-robin-among-thorns]

Show Your Work

Word Count: 1,592

This started out as a little rambling inspired by a cute tumblr post but ended up being something cathartic during my own finals week. Either way forgive me for not being very present lately. 

Of her reasons for attending the college what had thus far borne the most apparent fruit was Chise’s desire to experience the normal life of a girl her age. Well, as normal as life could be in an underground secret facility of Alchemist, Inhumans and talking cats. And she was currently facing down perhaps the greatest equalizer of all academia: Finals. 

The gauntlet thus far had been fierce. Latin and economics had left many victims in its wake at the start of the week, herself only just managing to scrape by. She was given one day of sanctuary before having to return to battle for Magical Theory earlier that evening. The final trial awaited her in the morning. 

It was Thursday night while she ate dinner that evening. Although she had given a convincing performance of appearing unaffected, her current motions of dinner where all a front to appease the Silver One’s rath. If given the choice she would have holed herself off to study until the late hours of the night, her tummy too restless to allow food, but the entire manor had made their displeasure with the said course of action well known. She was forced into self-preservation whether she liked it or not. 

At that thought she huffed a small grin around her soup, a sound quickly picked up on from her worry wort mage across the table. He eyed her curiously as he often did when a matter of human interaction was just out of his understanding. Fragrant orange soup silenced the action as it slid past her lips and down her throat. Chise did not wish to belittle Elias’ questions, but her energy would be needed elsewhere in the coming hours.   

Her spoon clinked gently on her napkin. “Thank you for dinner Silver.” Chise praised as she tidied her mouth with a napkin. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”

The curiosity Chise had hoped to distract in Elias’ eyes, instead bloomed and refocused. His head swiveled to the clock, confirmed his suspicions, and returned to her. “It’s awful early for bed, is something wrong?”

“Nothings wrong!” She answered a bit too eagerly for her liking, “I’ll just be leaving for class early tomorrow.” Chise said across the dinner table.

Taken aback Elias placed his teacup on its saucer, focusing his complete attention on Her. “Why is that? I had thought your exam didn’t begin until 10:30?”

Chise sighed, “it does but I want to get a few good study hours in beforehand.”

“There is no need to strain yourself.” He urged gently. “You’ve studied plenty and you’ve done well in chemistry thus far.” 

“I know, I know” She sighed knowing on some instinctual level that he was right and she was being silly, “but I’m teetering right at 90 percent. I don’t want to make a mistake and fall to a B.” She stood to avoid further questions and quickly placed her plates in the sink. She shouted goodnight over her shoulder and hurried up the stairs. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Ruth echoed in her mind. His desire to ensure his master was not straining herself permeated his mental presence, nestled alongside his desire to finish her uneaten carrot stew. “I am,” she assured uncertain if he had been convinced. But feeling the odd sensation of carrots and ginger intermingling among her senses as she brushed her teeth, Chise chose to believe Ruth had found some peace with the decision. 

As she opened the door to the bedroom she blinked in surprise. At the bed’s edge stood Elias buttoning up his nightshirt. “What are you doing?” She asked dumbfounded.

“Preparing for bed.” He answered still absorbed in the task at hand. 

“How come?” Chise rose an eyebrow, Elias rarely went to bed past midnight. 

“So I can come with you tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she rose her hands defensively, “You don’t need to do that, didn’t you already present your final today? You should enjoy the day off.”

The last button slipped through its hole underneath the shirt collar. “Now how could I do that if you weren’t here?” He said missing the bloom across Chise’s face. “Besides, you can study in my quarters. It’s more comfortable than the student lounge. And fewer distractions I’d suppose.” He finally turned, fully acknowledging her presence in the room. “Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

Guiltily, her eyes searched the room aimlessly. “No, it’s not that I just...planned on leaving very early, before sunrise…” Chise’s words were swallowed down her throat as Elias crossed the room taking her cheek in hand.

“I can deal with an early morning if it means ensuring your safe arrival.” He nuzzled her temple affectionately. 

“Well...ok,” She relented. “...but don’t feel like you have to.”

——

A musical tune that would have been pleasant under any other circumstance jostled Chise out of her warm sanctuary of sleep and blankets. She snapped her eyes open quick to grab her phone off the nightstand and silence the alarm. Breathing deeply she forced herself to sit upright in darkness untouched by sunlight. Beside her lay Elias’ still comatose form, his back rising and falling to the rhythm of a gentle rumble. She knew what he said last night but still couldn’t bring herself to break him out of his slumber needlessly. 

Slowly she pulled back the comforter and lower herself lightly to stand. The bed creaked as her weight left the bed and she froze. Elias’ breathing hitched dissolving into a grumble. Chise stood still hoping he would fall back asleep, to no avail. Elias rose to his elbows yawning loudly. “G’ morning, Chi...se. Give me a couple...minutes I’ll get dressed.” 

A tight line formed on Chise’s lips. “Elias...really, you don’t have to..”

“I know but I…” He yawned again shaking his head as he stood, “want to.” 

All further attempts at protest met similar counters until Ruth glaring up from his restful spot in Chise’s lamplit shadow finally silenced her.

Groggily they got dressed and downed the tea and toast Silver had set out for them. Soon they were off through the countryside, through the phone box short cut and walking into the college. The artificial sun that rarely reflected an accurate time of day burned their eyes as they made their way to the professors' quarters where Elias’ private room resided. 

Chise had to admit that Elias was right that his room was more comfortable and quiet than the study rooms. Despite the early hour, they had already come across a handful of sleep-deprived students chattering and cramming in the halls. There was still one distinct problem though, the only surface suitable for Chise to study on was Elias’ desk, where he had already sat down. 

“Um, Elias may I…” 

He patted his knee in invitation. Not what she meant but she didn’t have any objections. She sat down on his lap where he immediately wrapped his arms around her waist in what was now familiar affection. She located her textbook from her bag placing it open on the desk. She went over the practice problems, an anxious jitter set in her knee and fingers. 

“You are tense,” Elias stated causing Chise to jump. “You have studied well,” His hands caressed her belly fondly, “You have nothing to worry about.” 

Chise sighed, “I know, it’s just...I can’t help but worry about it. Even though I know I’m prepared and I’ve done well before.” The words Elias and others had told her in earnest attempts at comfort found their way onto her tongue. She wasn’t upset that they had tried to assure her, quite the opposite. But she felt shameful that despite her efforts the words had reached her brain and not her heart. “I suppose I’m just scared that I won’t be able to do well again. That my success so far has been a coincidence. I have a hard time believing I can do it.”

The gentle rumbling that often signified that Elias was carefully weighing his words vibrated against her. “Students far less driven and talented than you have succeeded before you. I should know a handful have taken my course.” Chise snickered despite herself. “Besides,” He angled his skull onto her shoulder, meeting her eyes sidelong, “even if you fail, the exam does not determine your worth. Neither as a student nor a person.” 

Chise’s hand stilled at his words.

“That said, you know the material better than you think, just review and…” His words were cut off by a snore as his head slumped against her shoulder. The lights of his eyes snuffed out like birthday candles. Chise snorted. “Thank you, Elias.” She cupped his cheek, nuzzling affectionately before she returned to her practice problems. The clock ticking was much less foreboding while surrounded by the comforting weight of her husband embracing her punctuated by his steady breath.

—— 

Come 10:30 Chise was standing outside the chemistry classroom. Her fingers still fretted nervously, but her feet felt grounded and firm. She looked down the hall where Elias and Ruth stood. Ruth flashed a thumbs up, although he still appeared somewhat grumpy that familiars were not allowed in the testing area. Elias waved as his eyes curved in a smile. Chise waved back before a creak broke the silence in the hall. The door opened and students poured into their desks reading the board instructions briefly before diving into their papers. 

Chise read the first question and smiled to herself. He was right, she did know the material better than she thought. 

#The Ancient Magus Bride #mahou tsukai no yome #chise hatori #elias ainsworth #robinthorn #Ruth #fan fiction #fan fic #stormy writes #one shot

[dbnightingale24]

Paws of Attraction

Steve Rogers One Shot

~~

This is probably  the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written lol. This is for one of the absolute people I know, @fuckingbye​. I hope this sappy little love story put a smile on your face and holds you over until the next time I can give you a hug that’s entirely too tight ❤️.

I made this moodboard and that’s why it sucks so much lol.

Word Count: 36,934

Warnings: FLUFF, anxiety, swearing, drinking, flirting, small arguments, smut, longing, MINORS DNI...I actually think that’s it?

Song(s) That Inspired This Playlist: Oh look, I made another playlist.

Summary: You’re just trying to get through the last bit of your day, which will be easy because your last customer is your favorite customer. However, when his actual owner drops you off, it throws you for a loop that you would’ve never expected.

I do not consent to have any of my works/ stories posted elsewhere.

~~

Steve sits in his apartment at the compound and looks out the window. It’s been almost a week since he was forced to take a break from work, and he was really starting to lose his mind with all the free time. He knew the break was well earned and needed, but that doesn’t mean he wants it.

“Hey Cap, when’s the last time you took some time off?” Tony Stark called out to him after the team meeting came to an end.

“Not sure, Stark. Wherever there’s action, that’s where you’ll find me.”

“What about that Golden Retriever of yours? Clyde?”

“What about him?”

“You’ve had him for like, over a year. I never see him. Do you even spend time with him?”

“I spend a lot of time with him, Stark,” Steve snapped.

“Listen, we’ve all noticed how irritable you are and you barely rest. You can’t keep living from mission to mission, Cap. You’re off for the next three weeks.”

“I don’t want a break, Tony-”

“Not optional, Steve. You need rest,” Tony stated firmly.

“Tony-”

“Three weeks, Cap,” Tony called over his shoulder as he walked away. “Keep it up and I’ll make it a whole month. Maybe take your dog for a walk? Better yet, why not try going on a date? Can’t remember the last time I saw you with a special someone,” he shrugged, not even bothering looking back.

Since that that talk, Steve has been holed up in his apartment with Clyde. He takes him for walks, and they play during the early mornings in the park. They mainly lounge around in the compound, mostly because Steve doesn’t know what the hell to do. Since he and Sharon broke up a few years ago, Steve’s been using all of his free time to train and prep for battle. When he isn’t doing that, he plays with Clyde for a few hours before making them both dinner and watching classic movies with him on the sofa.

He always arranges for someone to take Clyde to get groomed, in fear of being hounded by fans and paparazzi. He dreads seeing some stupid headline that would read something along the lines of ‘America’s Dog’ or something painfully moronic of that nature. He likes the parts of his life that aren’t in the Avengers to remain private.

It’s part of what caused his breakup with Sharon.

“Sharon, I told you!” Steve snapped, throwing his suit jacket down onto their bed. “I don’t want our relationship to be some big spectacle! It’s the two of us! Not you, me, and everyone else who wants to know what kind of furniture we like!”

“It’s good for your image! People can see you as someone besides Captain America!”

“I don’t care how people see me! I care how you see me and that’s it!”

“Steve-”

“No Sharon. Stop setting up these pictures or I’m done.”

“Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

“You tell me.”

He ended up breaking up with her a week later.

Steve scowls at the memory before looking over at Clyde, who’s looking directly at him from the comfort of his dog bed.

‘He probably thinks I got fired’ Steve thinks.

There’s a soft knock on his door and he rolls his eyes, already knowing who it is. “What Nat?” he mutters unenthusiastically.

“When are you going to stop being mad at all of us?” she sighs, leaning against the door frame.

“When this stupid house arrest is over.”

“Stop being so fucking dramatic, Steve! It’s not house arrest! You’re free to go wherever you want-”

“Except to work.”

“You can’t keep throwing yourself into work, Steve. Whatever you’re not dealing with-”

“I’m not hiding from anything, Nat,” he quips, getting irritated that everyone keeps thinking he’s running from the demons of his past or some other bullshit. “Work is all I know how to do. It’s why they made me Captain America, Nat. To fight for this country. Now, I fight for it with all I have, and I’m being put in time out for it? It’s never enough. So yeah, I’m still a little pissed off.”

“Steve, you can’t keep going on like this. You’re not yourself, you’re irritable. You’re barely sleeping, and you’re moody. You need a break. No one is mad at you for constantly risking your life for this country. But it’s starting to really take a toll, and that’s completely understandable,” she sighs. “You’re good for more than just fighting and you’re good at more than just fighting. I know that after everything with Sharon, you just threw yourself all in and it was hard. Which is why we were all so happy when you got that cute puppy,” She smiles to herself, gently knocking against the door now. “Lately, you’ve just started repeating the routine you were doing before and you need to pump the breaks. Serum or not, you’re still a human being, and you need a break.” The door finally swings open as Steve walks away and sits back onto the couch.

“Thanks for the talk,” he mumbles, returning his gaze to the window.

“Buck and I are going out to lunch, do you wanna come with?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Did you know your door is a good listener?” She says with a small smile, trying to break up the melancholy to no avail. “It’s only another two weeks, Steve,” Natasha reminds him, sadness in her tone. “At least try and find something to do? Get a hobby? Maybe, instead of one of the interns taking Clyde to get groomed today, you should,” she suggests with a shrug before walking out.

Steve lets out an exasperated groan as he checks the time.

4:30.

“Hey buddy, you ready to get groomed?” Steve asks as Clyde jumps up and starts barking. “I thought so. Lets go,” he laughs, getting up and grabbing a leash before picking up a baseball cap and sunglasses.

Trying something new was worth it, he told himself, especially if it meant they’d all finally leave him alone. Besides, what life changing event could happen at a grooming salon?

Y/N’s P.O.V

“Is it me or does every dog have an attitude problem today?” you mutter as you wrap your wrist in gauze.

“Jesus, that Yorkie did that?!” Jazz, one of your coworkers asks. “How does it feel?”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking tickle, that’s for sure,” you grumble, finishing off the last of the masking tape. The bracelet you never asked for is complete.

“Well, your last appointment is coming in soon and I’m sure he’ll make you feel better,” Isabella, your boss and best friend quips.

“Clyde!” you beam, always ready and excited to see the playful pup.

“Don’t you always end up annoyed with him because he likes to sit during his grooms?” Jazz laughs.

“Yeah, but we always work through it and become besties again,” you huff matter-of-factly before sticking your tongue out at her.

“Who do you think will be dropping him off today? It’s never the same person,” Isabella questions, trying to get the Shih Tzu she’s grooming to be still while she trims up its face.

“I don’t know and I don’t care. I just wanna see him. He’s my favorite pupper to groom and today’s been shit. I need his kisses and hugs!”

“Well, whoever his parent is must clearly love the work you do, because you’re always generously tipped.”

“Yeah, that always stresses me out a little bit because I really don’t wanna fuck his groom up. He could tip me $40 and that would be fine.”

“How much does he tip you?” Jazz inquires with a smile.

“Way more than $40,” you scoff incredulously as the bell by the front door rings. “He’s here!” you squeal, before making your way out front and pushing the door open. “Clyde!” you beam, not even paying attention to the man who brought him in as you wrap the equally excited pup in a hug. “Are you ready for a bath and trim up?” you question excitedly and Clyde just barks in response before licking your face. “Good boy,” you laugh before standing up. “Hey, I’m...” you trail off as you finally make eye contact with the man who brought in your favorite pup. “Oh, Captain Ro...Captain America? Mr. Steve. No, that’s not right. Um-”

“You can call me Steve,” he chuckles softly, his face slightly red as he looks over you. His gaze on you is more intense than you expected.

“Are you Clyde’s dad?”

“That I am, and by his response, I’m gonna guess that you’re his groomer,” he smiles down at the energetic canine, who’s just sitting and looking up at the both of you, tail wagging hard.

“I am, and thank you so much for the generous tips, honestly. It’s so much more-”

“Please, thank you. He always looks amazing and he’s so happy when he comes back. Thank you so much.”

“It’s my pleasure, Captain...Steve,” you finish awkwardly, mentally kicking yourself for not being able to play it cool. “Also, um, thanks for saving New York...like, all the time.”

“You’re very welcome,” he laughs heartily. You silently swear that you can listen to it all day.

“Um, do you want the same style as usual, or-”

“The same style as always, just make him not so straggly,” he smiles, looking down at his best boy.

“Okay perfect, um, he’s my last one for the day, so he should be done in about 2 and a half hours? Maybe 3, sometimes he gets a little fussy for the dryer, and he likes to sit...a lot,” you laugh softly. “What number should I call?”

“I won’t be far, I’ll probably just walk around the city for a bit.”

“Ah, gonna be on paw patrol, I see,” you say before instantly covering your mouth. Your ability to make awful jokes when extremely nervous really shows itself at the wrong time. “That was such a terrible joke and I’m sorry,” you apologize, your hand still covering your mouth, as Steve let out another hearty laugh. “I’m the queen of awful jokes and I just...Clyde will be ready for you in a bit,” you smile awkwardly holding out your hand for him to pass you the leash.

“Take your time, I’ll happily wait out here for the last hour,” he smiles, still laughing a little as he hands you the leash.

You give him one last awkward nod and smile before you and Clyde quickly make your way into the back.

“That sounded like it was cringe from what I could hear,” Isabella laughs, putting a bow on her Shih Tzu’s ear.

“His dad is Captain America. Steve Rogers is Clyde’s dad,” you mutter as you continued to walk back to the bathing area.

“Come again?!”

“I made a paw patrol joke to Captain America! Someone please throw me in the trash where I belong.”

“You did what?!” Jazz laughs in disbelief.

“And you!” you quip, looking at Clyde. “You could’ve told me!”

“He’s a dog, babe. He can only do so much,” Isabella laughed.

“Well, he didn’t even try,” you snap back, causing both Jazz and Isabella to burst out laughing.

From that moment on, your nerves are on fire. Your anxiety spiked, wanting to take extra care because now that you know Captain fucking America is his dad, you want to make sure you don’t fuck anything up. Of course, Clyde senses your anxiety and gives you little kisses every now and again to try and calm you.

‘He must have great practice at reading emotional stress since Captain America is his dad,’ you think to yourself as you give him a soft pat on the head.

“Y/N, stop over thinking it. You’ve groomed him over 20 times now. You know what you’re doing.”

“Iz, I just-”

“You’ve been grooming dogs for 8 years now. It’s part of the reason I was so happy to bring you into this salon. You know what you’re doing and you’re damn good at it. Just take a deep breath,” she smiles reassuringly.

Her words calm you a little, but not enough to get you to stop second guessing yourself all together.

“Jazz, what are you still doing here? Your shift ended an hour ago,” Isabella asks, finally noticing her sweeping up the salon.

“I wanna see Captain America,” she states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing.

“Girl, take your ass home. You have to open tomorrow and I don’t need you being late, again,” Isabella teases as Jazz playfully scowls.

“I never get to do anything fun,” she pouts as she places the broom and dust pan against the wall. “At least tell him I said hi,” she pleads as she makes her way out

“Will do,” Isabella laughs, as you shake your head. “Babe, you trim up much more of his belly, it’s not gonna look good,” she warns you.

“Does he look good? Does he look okay?”

“He looks amazing,” she laughs, getting up and giving you a big hug. “He looks amazing just he always does.”

“Yeah? He’s done?”

“He’s done,” she confirms happily. “It has been a while since you two have taken a picture though.”

“He’s too big for me to hold up now,” you groan as Clyde barks. “Well, you are!” you bark back to the excited puppy.

“I think you can hold him up for 15 seconds,” Isabella laughs.

“Fine,” you huff, “but if you haven’t gotten a good picture in 15 seconds, that’s not on me,” you warn as she shakes her head. “Alright bud, you ready? Just like we used to do, but faster this time,” you tell him, and Clyde just licks your hand in response.

“Alright, 3,2,1 LIFT!” Isabelle smiles as you lift him off the table.

Clyde instantly rests his paws on either side of you and licks your face, causing you to laugh just as Isabella takes the photo with her Polaroid camera.

“You two are so cute,” she beams as she places the photo face down.

“Yeah, yeah,” you smirk as you set Clyde down. “I think your Daddy’s here, wanna check and see?” you ask him.

Clyde runs around in little circles in response.

“I thought so,” you laugh.

No sooner than you put his leash on, you hear the bell of the front door, causing Clyde to start barking like crazy.

“I hear ya bud,” Steve calls with a gentle laugh.

Clyde is practically pulling you out the door and you’re doing all you can to keep your balance.

“Relax buddy, relax,” Steve laughs as Clyde jumps up on him. “You look amazing! Were you a good boy?”

“He was the same as always,” you laugh, handing him back the leash before ringing him up. “Um, I know you’re busy keeping us all safe from God knows what, but he did have a few knots. Nothing too terrible, but definitely something you wanna keep an eye on. Maybe ask someone to brush him for you? I don’t know, it can just become really uncomfortable and painful for him. Especially if it gets bad.”

“No, it’s my fault. I’ve been in a funk these last few weeks and haven’t been keeping up with it like I should be. I know he had a problem with that a few months back. I do listen to the feedback that’s brought to me, I promise,” he chuckles with a warm smile.

“And you’ve been doing good! I’m just giving you a little heads up,” you smile reassuringly.

“What’s the damage?”

“It’s on the house,” Isabella chimes in, coming out of the back with a stack of photos.

“You didn’t,” you mutter.

“Oh, but I did,” she smiles.

“No, please don’t...I’m more than happy to pay whatever it is-” Steve starts, giving you both a quizzical look because of the exchange that was just made.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you next time,” she teases, “but this is my way of saying thank you. I know you probably hear stuff like this all the time, but you personally saved my niece from the Chitauri a few years back. She’s graduating from college next month and that wouldn’t be possible without doing what you did. This is just my small way of saying thanks,” she smiles kindly.

“I’m happy that I was able to help. What’s she majoring in?”

“Criminal science of all things,” she scowls and you force yourself to stifle a laugh. “Anyway, I brought these out because I thought you’d like to see Clyde’s transformation over time!”

“Please don’t do this,” you groan as Steve laughs.

“You’ll also see a bit of Y/N’s transformation, too,” she says playfully.

“I’m going to stab you,” you warn.

“You just threatened harm against me in front of Captain America. If I go missing, he’ll know who to question,” she says matter-of-factly and you just stick your tongue out at her in response.

“I would love to see the pictures,” he laughs, keeping his eyes on you and you can’t help but turn away as you feel heat rushing to your cheeks. “He was so small!” Steve gushes as he looks at the first picture.

“Small and scared,” you smile as you look at the picture with him.

“I’d just adopted him not too long before he came here. I felt terrible not coming with him for the first time, but if one of those lunatics with a camera would’ve figured out that it was me, they would’ve been all over him. I couldn’t do that to him,” he huffs and you can hear the frustration in his voice. “He looks comfortable with you though,” he says assuredly with a smile.

“Oh, we took our time that day,” you smile back, remembering the day. “I waited until he was comfortable and trusted me. He and I have been on a journey,” you laugh.

“I’m happy you’re his groomer. I can tell he really loves and trusts you, and that’s a big deal to me.” He flashes you a quick smile before returning his attention to the pictures. “Is this from today?”

“About 10 minutes ago,” Isabella laughs.

“I’m surprised you were able to pick him up,” Steve scoffs in shock. “You’re so small and he’s so-”

“I held him for all of 15 seconds, please don’t be impressed,” you laugh. “Besides, I lift heavy dogs all day. It comes with the job.”

“Be that as it may....”

“It’s almost like I’m good at my job. Almost,” you tease and Steve smiles at you.

“Well, I’m sure you’re both ready to go home. Do either of you need a ride or-”

“We live in the same complex, so we’re alright,” Isabella smiles, getting the pictures together.

“Oh...oh okay then-”

“No...no,” you feel the need to clarify. “She lives with her boyfriend and I’m the floor above.”

“Oh,” Steve smiles softly.

“Do you need a ride home?” you ask absent minded.

“No, we’re okay. We’re only a few blocks away, but thank you,” he smiles before handing you a tip.

“Cap...Steve, you really don’t-”

“I got a free groom today, I can afford it,” he laughs. “I’m glad I met you, Y/N. I’ll be sure to see you again,” he smiles with a small nod before making his way out. “It was nice meeting you too!” he calls to Isabella.

“Same to you...sir!” she calls back and you can’t stop yourself from laughing at her.

“My oh my!” she smirks at you as soon as the door closes.

“Do not start,” you warn, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Cap seemed to be very-”

“He seemed to be very happy with how Clyde’s groom came out.”

“Oh yeah, totally. That’s why he seemed so relieved when you pointed out that you and I aren’t dating. Which, by the way, I’m a little insulted by how quickly you cleared that up,” she teases as you two make final touches around the shop, making sure everything is where it should be, before locking up the salon for the night.

“Yeah, I don’t know what the hell that was about either?” you laugh in total disbelief. “I don’t know why I even thought he needed to know that.”

“Because you think he’s dreamy,” Isabella teases in a sing-song tone, as you playfully push her. “Just think you of it: you as Captain America’s girlfriend,” she winks before coking an eyebrow.

“Stop it!” you laugh as you two start your short trek home. “Also, I know I don’t have to tell you this, but still-”

“I know, don’t tell anyone. Why do you think I sent Jazz home early? She means well, but she would’ve been all over him in an instant. Asking for pictures and everything,” she scoffs.

“Thank you for that, by the way,” you sigh as you look up at your complex building. “It’s been a long day and the weather is nice. You wanna sit on the roof and have a few beers?”

“Hell yeah! It’s been a while,” she laughs before practically dragging you inside with her.

The elevator ride to the 12th floor is quick, and just as quickly as she was running in to tell her boyfriend (Isaiah) hi and that she’d be on the roof with some beers. She returns just as quick as the elevator, beers in hand.

“Don’t fall off please,” he calls right as she’s about to close the door.

“We make no promises!” she answers with a small laugh as the door closes.

You make a quick stop on your floor to drop off your things in your apartment, before you and Isabella get back on the elevator, taking it up as far as it’ll go. You two get out and take the steps the rest of the way, finally getting to the rooftop.

“What do you think it’s like in there?” she asks as you both sit in your chairs and open a beer, both looking over at the Avengers tower.

“I can’t even begin to imagine, honestly,” you chuckle. “They deal with aliens, fight crime, deal with political leaders. I’ve read about the parties and I don’t even wanna think about how much money Stark spends on them.”

“And yet, somehow, Steve Rogers seems to be taken with you,” she nudges.

“You’re really funny today.”

“Oh come on, Y/N! The little smile and nod before he left? The way he couldn’t stop smiling at you?!”

“Iz, it’s not a big deal,” you shrug, returning your gaze to the Avengers tower. “Guys like him don’t date women like me. We’re from two different worlds. He dates political women...and models,” you laugh.

“You could be a model!”

“Half a beer is your new limit, clearly.”

“Y/N! At least acknowledge that you had his attention for at least a minute,” she begs, giving you big, sympathetic eyes.

“Fine,” you groan, a small smirk playing on your lips. “I had his attention for just a moment.”

“Thank you!” she nods, before returning her gaze to the Avengers tower and finishing off her beer before grabbing another.

You shake your head at the thought but can’t stop smiling to yourself. Even if it was just for a fleeting moment, it was nice to have the attention of a quiet and kind man.

4 Days Later...

Steve can’t get the thought of you out of his head. Your big, hopeful eyes, and genuine smile; the way you were mortified at the horrible joke you made, how genuinely excited you were to see Clyde before you even realized whom his dad was, and your genuine kindness. He closes his eyes and still visualize your hair pulled up into a high ponytail, and a little scarf wrapped around your edges, plain faced and high spirited.

Steve needs to see you again.

The only issue is that he can’t figure out how. He can’t just walk in and ask you out on a date. He’s far too shy and reserved for that; he always has been. That was the nice part about asking Sharon out. They already worked together, so asking her out happened naturally. They spent so much time together that one time they went to lunch together and Steve decided that it was a date. Steve asked her if that was okay and she had no objections.

You’re different.

Steve doesn’t know you from a can of paint. How the hell is he supposed to get your attention? There was no issue with Clyde’s groom, so it’s not like he can go back and ask you to grind his nails shorter or something. No other Avenger has a dog, so it’s not like he can bring another one by and ask you to groom it. He doesn’t know where you live, so he can’t send you flowers. Of course, he can send them to the salon, but he already knows everyone will bombard you with questions and he’ll feel terrible if he embarrasses you.

But what can he do?

“Rogers!” Fury roars, coming into the compound full of vigor. “I have told you more than once to keep your dog-”

“Clyde,” Steve instantly corrects, not liking the disdain in Fury’s voice towards his pet.

“Clyde, off the training field!” he snaps as he turns his attention to a very muddy and happy Clyde. “Don’t let this happen again, Cap,” Fury warns before storming out.

“Bud, I told you about that! No digging in the training fields!” he scolds Clyde halfheartedly.

He can’t help but feel bad because the compound really is no place for a pet, but Steve couldn’t stop himself. As soon as he saw Clyde in the adoption shelter he was ready to bring him home before he could register what he was doing.

All Clyde did was bark and lick his face.

“C’mon bud, lets get you cleaned up,” Steve smiles sheepishly before an idea pops into his head.

**

“Happy Tails grooming, how may we service you and your pet today?” Isabella answers lazily.

“Hey, it’s uh, it’s Steve. I was there the other day-”

“Oh, I remember,” she smiles as she looks over in your direction. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, a little busy today,” he says hurriedly.

“I’m sure you are,” she laughs softly. “How can I help you today?”

“Well, it seems that Clyde went digging in the training fields again, and I’d bring him to the salon myself, but the powers at be are already pretty angry. Him tracking mud through the compound would only make it worse,” he chuckles awkwardly. “Would you mind sending someone? I can send a car so they don’t have to pay for the commute.”

“Sure, I can have Y/N ready for you in about 20 minutes, she’s finishing up a dog right now,” Isabella laughs as she watches you sing, ‘This Must Be The Place’ to your current four legged client as it plays softly over the salon playlist.

“Thanks, I promise I’ll try not to keep her too long.”

“Take all the time you need,” Isabella hums with a small smile on her face before hanging up. “Hey babe, got a job for you. A house call,” she says to you with a mischievous grin.

Y/N’s P.O.V

You can’t help but feel small as the Lexus pulls up to the Avengers compound. To go to the tower would’ve been one thing, but the compound? You can barely wrap your head around the concept.

“We’re here, Miss,” the driver smiles back at you.

All you can think to do is smile before opening the door and awkwardly stumbling out of the car.

“Shit! I left most of my cash at the salon!” you remember almost instantly, digging around in your smock pockets. “Umm, here’s a $5? I’m so sorry-”

“It’s fine, ma’am,” the man laughs softly. “There’s no need to tip.”

“Please? I feel so bad and-”

“You think I don’t pay my employees well enough?” a familiar voice you’ve only ever heard on TV asks you.

“M-Mr. Stark, no it’s just that...he did me a service, a-and it’s only right for me to-”

“I’m just foolin’ with ya,” he laughs, extending his hand to shake yours. “Happy isn’t gonna take your money, so just put it back in your pocket.”

“O-okay,” you smile nervously, quickly pushing the $5 bill as far down as it would go into it. You give Happy one last smile and wave before turning and walking with Tony Stark. You feel dizzy, like you’re in another world.

“So, a dog groomer, huh? How does one find themselves doing that?” he questions gently as you two make your way inside.

“I just really love dogs and taking care of them, plus they’re better than people, so...”

“That’s very true,” he laughs, stopping at the elevator. “Steve is on the 4th floor.”

“Thank you,” you smile nervously before stepping into the elevator with all of your equipment.

Tony laughs, shaking his head before waving as the doors close.

What on earth could be so funny at a time like this?

“4th floor,” the elevator announces as it comes to a stop and the doors open.

You timidly start your way off, slowly making way down the hall, unsure of where you’re supposed to be going exactly. You were tempted to knock on one of the doors in front of you and ask for help until you heard your favorite bark.

“Clyde!” you squeal, as the muddy pup runs towards you, jumping on you instantly. “What did you do?!” you question with a laugh.

“He decided to piss off Nick Fury,” Steve laughs, walking up behind his overly excited child.

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be the one responsible for that,” you laugh, still looking over Clyde and seeing just how muddy he is.

“Yeah, it’s never fun to be on the other side of that. I’m sorry I asked you to come all the way out here, but I didn’t want him tracking mud all over the compound, and I don’t have pet shampoo here-”

“Hey, it’s no big deal. I’m always happy to help, especially when it comes to my favorite boy,” you say as your smile passes from Clyde to Steve, who’s looking at you with something in his eyes that you can’t quite place.

“Well, let me lead the way,” he smiles, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

There’s no way he’s nervous, right? Nervous because of you?

Doubtful.

“So, this is where I shower, but if you need a bigger area-”

“No, this is perfect,” you almost whisper as you marvel at the size of it. ‘This makes my entire bathroom look like the corner of a closet’ you think to yourself as you start unpacking your things. “Is the shower head-”

“Removable? Yeah, just click this button here and it pops right out,” Steve smiles as he shows you how to use it.

You quickly shake your head at all the thoughts you shouldn’t have about Steve doing anything in the shower, and just smile and nod along with what he’s saying, half paying attention.

You’re definitely gonna need a refresher course.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you two to it,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Um, maybe you staying will help?” you respond a little too quickly, not ready for Mr. Blonde Ambition to leave your presence just yet. “He isn’t used to being groomed at home, so it might help to have you here and keep him calm,” you lie, impressing yourself.

You’re well aware, that if anything, Clyde is going to be even more excited, but you’re ready to deal with whatever comes your way.

Just as long as you can talk a little while longer with the beautiful man.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna get him riled up.”

“No, it’ll be fine,” you promise with an affirming nod.

From that moment on, you and Steve are almost lost in conversation about everything and nothing. Clyde, on the other hand, was over this unscheduled groom.

“Sweet boy, you know the drill,” you sigh, trying to keep him still as you set up the dryer.

Clyde’s having none of it; not caring at all that he’s dripping wet and could potentially injure himself on bathroom tile. Clyde doesn’t care and keeps pulling away from you.

“Clyde, you’re not being a very good boy right now,” Steve chides, crossing his arms as he gives the frustrated puppy a stern look.

‘Keep talking like that and I’ll do anything I can to find out what you sound like when you’re calling me your good girl’ you mentally whine like a cat in heat.

“Steve, would you mind grabbing me a towel and we’ll just take a little break,” you sigh, trying to push those thoughts out of your mind.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, he’s just fussy because he’s not used to having a bath here. He just needs to calm down. I’ll towel him off and let him take a breather for 5 minutes,” you smile sympathetically at Clyde, who is finally starting to settle down because you’ve taken a seat beside him.

Steve quickly jogs out before quickly returning with two towels in hand. “Sorry he’s giving you such a hard time today.”

“Compared to the other pets I’ve dealt with today, he’s being a saint,” you scoff as you start to hand dry Clyde.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Steve laughs, taking a seat beside you in the shower.

“Well, by 9:30am, I’d been kicked in the mouth, bitten twice, and scratched up,” you smirk, showing him your wrist.

“Geez!”

“Yeah, it’s all sunshine and rainbows.”

“But you still wanna do it?”

“I love it,” you smile. “No, it’s not always a good day, but I get to help and take care of dogs. Some dogs are terrible, some just need a little time and patience, and others are just happy to have someone paying attention to them. I mean, aliens and bad guys try to kill you for a living,” you giggle softly as Steve scoffs, “but you still love what you do. It’s not ideal, but then again, most things in life aren’t,” you finish, looking into his eyes.

For just a moment, you two are lost in the silence of each other’s gaze. His eyes are so soft and show so much happiness. He looks so at peace. You just wanna lean in and-

You both jump when Clyde starts barking. “You ready to try again, bud?” you laugh, quickly turning your head away as you feel your body start heating up.

What is the matter with you? He’s Steve Rogers. Captain America. Get your shit together.

“Alright babe, I know you hate this part, but we’re more than halfway done. Just gonna dry you off and then brush you out, okay?” you tell Clyde as you turn on the dryer.

As usual, he starts barking and trying to run away from it, which you’re prepared for, instantly gripping the lead a little tighter. What you aren’t prepared for is Steve settling himself by Clyde and taking a hold of him.

“Come on, Clyde. You love Y/N. Don’t give her a hard time because you can’t seem to follow the rules,” he smirks down at the irritated pup. Clyde licks his face and slowly starts to calm down. “There’s my good boy. Let her finish.”

“Oh Steve, you don’t have to-”

“I feel really bad about this,” he laughs, still somewhat cradling Clyde, “is he always like this?”

“For the most part,” you chuckle. “Like I said, he’s just a bit more frustrated because he doesn’t associate bath time with home.”

“I’ll start bathing him so he gets more comfortable,” Steve promises softly as Clyde rolls over in his arms, showing his belly.

“Well, if you do that, I won’t be able to see him as often.”

“Maybe I’ll start asking for you to do more house calls.”

“Maybe you should,” you smirk before returning your attention back to Clyde, who was almost dry.

What is this man doing to you? You need to get out of there fast. Steve Rogers was not the first client to hit on you, but he’s first one who actually is succeeding.

“I feel like I should be tipping you more,” Steve laughs as you turn off the dryer. “I never thought it was an easy job, all of this and you got kicked in the mouth today?” he scoffs.

“Just a regular Thursday,” you laugh as you brush Clyde out. “You don’t need to tip me any more than you already do, honestly.”

“I feel like I should do more.”

“You truly don’t need to.”

“Well...can I take you out to lunch today? It’s 2pm,” he questions hopefully.

“I just spent my lunch break and then some coming out here,” you laugh softly.

“Now I feel awful,” he chuckles nervously. “Have you at least eaten today?”

“No, but it’s okay, because I usually don’t eat on my lunch break,” you quickly explain, not wanting to make him feel any worse. “So no, I can’t do lunch today but...I’m off on the weekends, so we can do something after I get off work tomorrow, if you want,” you automatically offer without even thinking.

“Dinner is my favorite meal of the day anyway,” he laughs sheepishly.

“Where do you like to go?”

“Well, I’ve been honored at some restaurants downtown that are pretty-”

“No, where do you like to go where you’re comfortable? I wanna have dinner with Steve, not Captain America,” you correct softly as you pack up your things.

“In that case...I don’t really know. I don’t like going out much, because I can’t do much in peace,” he sighs.

“That’s a good point...how about you come to my place, or I can come back here, and I can make us dinner?”

“You’ve groomed my dog twice in one week and now you’re offering to cook for me? I can’t-”

“I love to cook, it’s no big deal,” you laugh. “Besides, it’ll be my way of complimenting you for that generous tip you gave me a few days ago.”

“You have to let me do something for you.”

“How about you buy the ingredients needed?”

“What do you need me to get?”

“Uh, if you give me your number, I can text it to you,” you offer nervously as you pass him your phone.

He happily and quickly takes it, puts his number in, and hands it back to you. “See you here tomorrow at...?”

“Is 6 okay?”

“6 is perfect.”

“I’ll text you everything that I’ll need for dinner when I get home tonight,” you smile at him as you close up grooming travel kit. “As for you, lets try to not get Daddy into anymore trouble, huh?” you smile at Clyde as you give him a hug. “Be a good boy,” you laugh as he licks you and barks. “Steve,” you smile, standing up, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” You have a hard time believing the words that are coming out of your mouth.

“Looking forward to it,” he smiles at you. You know that you need to get out of there, like now.

You give one last awkward nod before quickly making your way out of his apartment and back to the elevator.

You don’t feel like you can breathe again until you’re back in the backseat of the Lexus that brought you into this universe.

“Everything go well, Miss?” Happy asks as he drives away from the compound.

“Perfect,” you laugh in disbelief.

The minute you’re back at the salon, everyone is hounding you with questions:

‘What’s the compound look like?!’

‘Who did you meet?!’

‘Did you hear anything about that attack downtown?!’

‘Was Thor there?!’

‘Did you get to see Thor leave back to his home?!’

‘How’s Clyde?’

‘Was Steve happy to see you?!’

‘Are you and Captain America dating?!’

‘Did you meet Black Widow?!’

“Let the woman breathe, holy shit,” Isabella sighs, ushering you back to your station. “I’m sure being at the Avenger compound was daunting enough. She doesn’t need you all bombarding her with questions!”

“It’s fine,” you laugh, trying to shrug it off. “Just none of you, please don’t let anyone know that Captain America gets his dog groomed here,” you beg, cringing at the sound of you calling him that.

It just doesn’t feel right.

“As for every other question; I didn’t see anyone besides Steve, the compound looks like an expensive loft with a giant training area and a few closed off work spaces from what I could see, Clyde is fine, just rowdy, and I’m not dating Steve Rogers” you laugh, content with most of what you said.

No one needs to know that you met Tony Stark.

“Then why-” Jazz starts

“Clyde dug in the training field and made a mess all over the compound. No more and no less,” you shrug as you unpack your things.

The sighs of annoyance do nothing but make you chuckle.

“You’re gonna tell me everything later though, right?” Isabella whispers to you as helps you set your table.

“You bet your ass,” you mutter.

The rest of the day goes off without a hitch. You do your best to fight off the smile that keeps trying to find its way on to your face.

“Okay, you’ve gotta tell me, cause I haven’t seen you smile like this since Bryan Chase asked you out for the 9th grade dance. What happened up at the compound today? You don’t know how much I need all the details,” she laughs as she locks up the salon.

“I think...I think I have a pizza date with Steve Rogers tomorrow,” you laugh, still trying to come to terms with the situation yourself.

“WHAT?!”

“Hush!” you quiet her with a laugh as you try to contain yourself. “I guess I’m gonna make him a pizza tomorrow and hangout?”

“Oh, he likes you so much! You have to tell me how the pizza date-”

“Stop,” you laugh, “I still can’t believe it’s happening. I probably shouldn’t even call it a date. It’s just a hangout.”

“Babe, it’s a date. It is very much a date,” she scoffs.

“If it’s a date, shouldn’t he be cooking?”

“You’re the idiot who offered!”

“He doesn’t like going out and I don’t blame him. He likes his privacy and I like that. I like that he doesn’t want to be seen as Captain America 24/7. That would make all of this even more nerve wracking. To be quite honest, I probably wouldn’t like him all that much if he was like that,” you sigh as you two reach your building.

“Just take a deep breath. He’s very much into you and you’re into him. Take it slow and don’t put pressure on yourself. You said so yourself, he just wants to be Steve, not Captain America. When you feel yourself getting too worked up, just keep that in mind. You and him both like simplicity, and that’s a good place to start.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Probably freak out a lot,” she laughs as you two get on the elevator. “Also, you’re both getting to know each other. Just because he saves people and has super powers doesn’t mean he’s hot shit.”

“God, but he is hot. When scolded Clyde today, I almost had an orgasm right there,” you groan as Isabella bursts out laughing.

“Walk before you run,” she breathes out as you two reach her floor. “Or run, but be a little marathoner if you do though. Just have fun. It’s gonna be great, I’m sure of it,” she smiles as she steps off the elevator. “And even if it all goes to shit, at least you can say you went on a date with the Captain,” she shrugs as the elevator doors close.

Her words roll around in your head as you wait to get to your floor. You truly don’t want to over think it, but he’s Steve Rogers. The man out of time. A war hero, turned war criminal, turned war hero again. He’s everything, all at once.

And he’s interested in you.

You shake your head and chuckle as you enter your apartment, trying to wrap your mind around everything that happened today. You pull out your phone, ready to text Steve, but feeling completely confused when you can’t find his number. You’re about to give up when you find the one name out of place in your contacts and start laughing.

Y/N: You’re a hard man to find.

Clyde’s Dad: How long did it take you? Lol

Y/N: Somewhere around 6 minutes haha

Clyde’s Dad: I’m impressed.

Y/N: Oh hush lol. Do you like pizza?

Clyde’s Dad: I was born and raised in Brooklyn. Of course I like pizza.

Y/N: Well I don’t know! You had a lot of restrictions as a kid, so maybe you don’t! lol

Clyde’s Dad: The one advantage you have over me is you learned about me in history class.

Y/N: LOL! Only a little bit! Besides, I heard a lot about Captain America. Didn’t learn much about Steve. So, we’re both in the dark about one another.

Clyde’s Dad: Good point :)

Y/N: So, pizza it is. Buffalo chicken pizza okay?

Clyde’s Dad: It’s fine. What brand do you like?

Y/N: Brand? Steve..no. We’re making pizza...from scratch. We’re cooking.

Clyde’s Dad: I didn’t think we were actually making food! I’m not the best cook.

Y/N: I’ll show you :)

Clyde’s Dad: So, you groom dogs, you cook, you do house calls...is there anything you can’t do?

Y/N: Remember to pay my credit card on time according to this notification I just received on my phone lol.

Clyde’s Dad: Is it too early for me to tell you that I like you?

Y/N: No...cause I like you too

Clyde’s Dad: Okay, I’m supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow. If you don’t tell me what I’m supposed to get now, I don’t think we’ll ever get to it lol.

You can’t stop smiling as you send him the ingredients for what’s needed to make the pizza. You feel like a middle schooler with a giant crush all over again. You don’t mind that.

Clyde’s Dad: Are you still gonna like me if I burn dinner?

Y/N: I won’t let you burn dinner, but I’ll still like you either way.

Clyde’s Dad: I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.

Y/N: Me too :)

Clyde’s Dad: Can I call you?

Y/N: I’d like that a lot.

Almost instantly your phone starts ringing.

“You work quick,” you laugh as you toss your smock onto your bed.

“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“It can’t be all that great.”

“It’s better than you think,” he scoffs softly. “This isn’t usually how I approach these things...asking someone out. It’s been so damn long-”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve got sea legs too,” you laugh softly. “I don’t know what came over me today but...I’m happy it did. I know we just met a few days ago but...”

“Yeah, I feel the same. You really are something else.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know,” he laughs “I really don’t. Everything is just so simple with you. So easy. You don’t fawn over me, you’re kind and gentle, you’re funny, beautiful...God, you’re so damn beautiful, and you’re interested in me. Not Captain America, not in being photographed for some press event, not-”

“You’re giving me too much credit,” you interrupt, feeling overwhelmed at his words.

“I don’t see how I am.”

“I just don’t want you making up this idea of me before you get to know me. I’m not always the most agreeable person.”

“Neither am I,” he laughs.

“Then cooking together may go really good. Or really bad,” you laugh to yourself.

“Tell me to not come and see you tonight.”

“Don’t come and see me tonight,” you smile as you plop down on your bed, in complete and utter disbelief at what’s taking place.

“Why not?”

“So you’ll have something to look forward to tomorrow.”

“Well, when you put it that way...”

“Goodnight Steve.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” he finishes, and you can hear his smile, before he ends the call.

You let out a scream in excitement as you kick your feet up, feeling elated that just maybe you found a good one. When you take your shower, you quickly clean yourself, trying to rush the next day to get there as soon as possible. Your dinner is light and your head is full, as you try to calm your nerves over what’s about to take place.

You dream of all the possible outcomes of your first real date in years.

‘Your first real date in almost 3 years and it’s with a fucking Avenger,’ you repeatedly tell yourself as you groom your first dog the next day.

You’re barely making conversation with anyone as you zoom through your grooms. You can’t even remember the last time you got through a work day so fast.

“You have no one else coming in today,” Isabella laughs as your last dog leaves for the day. “I guess you’re good to go.”

“You don’t need me to clean up anything?”

“Go and enjoy your weekend,” she encourages as you hang your smock up on the hook by your station.

“Then...I guess I’m off,” you smile at her as you try and hide the hesitation that you’re sure is shining through your body language. “Everyone, have a great weekend!” you call as you pull your hoodie on.

“Everything is gonna be fine,” Isabella coos as she wraps you in a hug. “Deep breaths.”

“Deep breaths have been the only thing that’s getting me through the day,” you laugh before making your way out.

“Tell me how it goes when you get home tonight!”

“Will do,” you silently giggle before heading out.

The minute you step foot in your apartment, you rush to get into the shower, while also trying to come up with an outfit mentally. You don’t want to make it seem like you’re trying too hard, but you also don’t want to look like you don’t care at all.

You’ve literally only spoken to the man a handful of times, and you only met him a few short days ago. Why are you making such a fuss about it?

You finally decide on a ‘The Clash’ t-shirt, your worn blue jeans, a pair of black low top converse, and decide to leave your hair down, brushing it out. You take a deep breath and look yourself over in the mirror, as you smooth your hands over your shirt.

You’re just going to hangout and eat some food with a guy. No big deal.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself as you follow your GPS directions to the compound. You try to let the music distract you, but the closer you get, the more butterflies are in your stomach. When you reach the compound, you realize you have no idea where to park. You turn off your GPS, anxiously dialing his number.

“Hey, you here?” he answers almost instantly and you can’t help but notice the tone in his voice, like he’s so excited to see you.

“Yeah and I have no idea where to park,” you chuckle nervously as you see him walking outside to meet you.

“Honestly, you can leave it there if you want. That’s where Tony always leaves his car.”

“He owns the building, Steve. He can leave it on the roof if he wants.”

“Just leave it there,” he laughs as he approaches your car and hangs up his phone. “If anyone gives you a hard time, I’ll move it myself.”

“Steve...are you sure?”

“I promise,” he smiles reassuringly.

With a smile like that, you didn’t care if you could leave your car there or not. Your butterflies have flown away and now all you want to do is unravel the mystery that is Steve Rogers.

“I didn’t know that’s where we leave our cars now,” Tony quips as he and Pepper make their way to his car, which happens to be right in front of yours.

“Leave her alone Tony,” Steve snaps rolling his eyes, probably able to sense just how awkward you feel.

“I can move it, I just don’t know-”

“Pay no mind to Tony,” Pepper urges with a small smile to you, “he just likes to hear himself talk.”

“Ya know, this is my compound.”

“It’s the Avengers compound.”

“Yeah, that I funded and designed.”

“C’mon, you can cry to me about it at dinner,” she scoffs as Tony rolls his eyes in a mocking way. “You two have fun!” she calls over her shoulder.

“That was surprisingly...normal?” you laugh as you and Steve make your way inside the compound.

“I think we’d all go insane if Tony didn’t have Pepper,” he smirks. “Do you want me to show you around or...?”

“While I do, I’m pretty hungry,” you laugh sheepishly, “maybe after?”

“I’d really like that,” he smiles at you as he leads you both to the elevator, his gaze not leaving you.

“Now,” you clear your throat as you look away, not being able to handle the intensity of his eyes. “You say that you’re not a good cook-”

“Anything besides bacon and eggs is lost on me,” he chuckles.

“Oh, this is gonna be a lot of fun,” you tease as you both step inside the elevator.

“I’ll do my best to keep up.”

“What else can’t you do?”

“Why are you so excited to learn about what I can’t do?”

“You’re joking right? The playing field is not even right now,” you tell him matter-of-factly as he bursts out laughing. “I’ve gotta get what I can.”

“What about you, then?” he questions with a cocked eyebrow as the elevator lands on his floor.

“What about me?”

“What aren’t you good at?”

“Honestly, take your pick.”

“Oh no, I refuse to believe that. I’ve seen you be good at too many things.”

“You’ve seen me do one thing!”

“You’re about to cook!”

“You don’t even know if you’re gonna like it! I could set the compound on fire!”

“As if I’d let it get that far. I am Captain America.”

“Oh shut up!” you laugh as he opens the door to his apartment. “Where’s my best boy?” you ask when you’re met with silence.

“Buck and Nat like to take him on walks at night, he’ll be back in an hour or so. He’ll be extremely excited to see you.”

“You think so?”

“I’m pretty sure he loves you more than he loves me.”

“The lies!”

“I’m just saying! He was super excited when he saw you yesterday!”

“That’s because he only sees me once a month,” you remind him.

“Well, be that as it may-”

“Trust and believe me when I say that there’s no one Clyde loves more than you,” you smile up at him as you lean against the kitchen island.

“Hopefully, we’ll be able to put that theory to the test if you keep coming around more often.”

“Play your cards right and we’ll see, Rogers,” you tease with a smirk before standing upright. “Now, where are our groceries? And I’m gonna need to sync my phone to your speakers.”

“All the groceries are put away and why do you need to sync your phone to my speakers?”

“For music, duh. You can’t cook without music! It’s illegal.”

“Uh huh, not sure about that one, Doll.”

“Well, it should be,” you shrug as you start digging out the seasonings, dough, tomatoes, and everything else you asked him to buy.

Soon enough, music is playing, you’re starting on the sauce, and Steve pours you a glass of wine before getting himself a beer. The whole thing feels so normal and comfortable. Almost like it’s something the both of you do every day. The conversation is effortless as you dance around the kitchen, putting together a meal you’ve made a million times.

“You still haven’t told me,” Steve says as he finishes his second beer, grabbing a third.

“Hmm?” you question as you spread the sauce on the dough.

“What are you bad at?”

“Oh, that,” you laugh as you start searching for the cheese. “I’m awful at Math. Truly. Isabella let me cheat off her tests in High School and I’m fairly sure that’s the only reason I passed,” you giggle at the thought.

“That doesn’t give me a leg up at all,” he scoffs as ‘This Must Be The Place’ starts playing.

“Finally!” you squeal, moving your hips to the beat.

“Finally?”

“This is one of my favorite songs! I mean, ‘Landslide’ by Fleetwood Mac ranks higher for me, but that song makes me cry and I can’t dance to it,” you shrug as you continue to dance to the upbeat tune.

“So, you’re good at dancing, too?” he laughs as he watches you make your way around the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re not gonna tell me you’re a bad dancer, Rogers.”

“I don’t have much time for it,” he shrugs, a smile tugging on his lips as he continues watching you move.

“Well lucky for you, you have time now and you’re spending time with someone who loves to dance. Get over here.”

“Please don’t make me do this,” he groans as you shake your head.

“Cooking and dancing, we’re tackling it all tonight. Let’s go Rogers,” you muse playfully.

Steve scowls but nonetheless makes his way over to you, placing his beer on the counter top before holding his hands out.

“Dancing isn’t a death sentence ya know,” you tell him as you move his hips to the beat.

“It is when can’t do it and you’re trying to impress someone.”

“You’re trying something new, who says I’m not impressed?”

“I think you’re just trying to massage my bruised ego.”

“Anyone will to try anything new is someone who has my attention,” you smile as you start to dance along with him.

“Special delivery for...oh,” Bucky stops short when he spots you and Steve dancing in the kitchen as Clyde comes bouncing towards you.

“Clyde!” you squeal as you squat down and hug him while he continues barking in pure excitement.

“What’s going on here?” Natasha asks as both her and Bucky make their way inside, Bucky moving a little faster as he’s trying to get a glimpse of the food that’s being made.

“Um, I’m teaching Steve how to cook...well, trying to,” you laugh nervously as you extend your hand towards Natasha. “I’m Y/N,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she smiles, shaking your hand as she looks you over. God, you hope you pass whatever silent test she’s putting you through.

“You’re making pizza? Steve, you’re making pizza and you didn’t tell me? Not only am I missing out on a chance to give you shit, but you’re also eating one of my favorite meals without me!” Bucky scoffs, feigning hurt, and you can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you,” Steve mutters before grabbing his beer, while using his free hand to pet Clyde, who is extremely happy to see his two favorite people together.

“Buffalo chicken pizza, huh?” Natasha asks as she looks over at the marinated cooked chicken in a glass bowl.

“Yeah, Steve told me to decide on dinner, so I figured I’d play it safe and make the one thing I know I won’t screw up,” you laugh awkwardly, washing your hands before drying them, and bringing the chicken over to the pie you made Steve knead for you. He really didn’t do a bad job.

“It also looked like you were trying to teach him how to dance,” Natasha smirks as Steve turns his attention to the oven.

“He’s a quick learner,” you encourage, trying to save the sweet man’s ego.

“Steve? Dance? I gotta see this,” Bucky laughs as you take the shredded mozzarella cheese out of the fridge.

“Don’t you two have a movie to watch or something,” Steve snaps as you turn away to keep from laughing at the two best buds. They slightly remind you of you and Isabella.

“I can make time for this,” Bucky smiles coyly, grabbing Steve’s beer from him and taking a sip.

“We do have a movie to watch,” Natasha laughs as she grabs Steve’s beer from Bucky and hands it back to him. “Save us a slice though, please?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow.

“I promise,” you nod towards her.

“We’ll let you two kids get back to it,” Bucky calls over his shoulder as Natasha practically drags him away. “Clyde was perfect!”

“When isn’t he?” Steve questions as you laugh, knowing that Steve knows better.

“Fair point! Goodnight kids! Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do...or would do for that matter!”

“Buck!” Natasha chastises before the door closes.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Steve sighs as you double over in laughter.

“Why are you sorry? That was nice! He’s your best friend and it was nice to see you two go back and forth. I like getting to know you...seeing this side of you.”

“I have to admit that this is going so much better than I thought it would.”

“Why did you think it would be bad?” you scoff as you start adding the shredded bits of the buffalo chicken to the pizza.

“Women never want me, they want Captain America. They want the suit. I don’t want to have to pretend when I come home, or after hours. I just wanna be myself and that’s surprisingly easy with you. Not sure just how or why yet,” he laughs in disbelief “but it’s been really nice,” he smiles.

“Same goes for you,” you smile at him before dousing the pizza with cheese.

“Why do I feel like this night is about to be extremely unhealthy?”

“Because not all of us have to save the world on a daily basis,” you tease before adding the rest of the garnishes on, then opening the door to the oven and putting the pie in. “And now,” you smile, “we find something to occupy our time.”

Filling your time with simple pleasures is one of your favorite things to do, so Steve has no issue with letting you take over. It starts with more dancing, Steve laughing at how much you don’t care, and you dancing around with a glass full of wine. However, it soon turns into debate about which era has better music, which Steve only wins because he dances with you to ‘Our Love Is Different’ by Billie Holiday.

“You don’t win,” you mutter as he holds you close and you two dance, “but I do like this song.”

“I’ll take what I can get, Doll.”

“Ya know, I don’t even think you really mind my music all that much. I think you just wanted to hold me.”

“There might be some truth to that,” he agrees and you can hear the smile in his voice right before the timer goes off. “Is it wrong that I’m annoyed dinner’s ready?”

“Not at all,” you chuckle softly as you break away.

You both make your plates in a comfortable silence, Clyde following you both around the kitchen, quietly begging for scraps. When you get to the sofa, before he can even say anything, you pass him the remote.

“I wanna watch something that makes you smile.”

All he did was turn his head to hide his smile as he switched over to a streaming service. You can’t stop yourself from giggling when you see a bunch of classic Disney cartoon options pop up.

“They’re comforting,” he explains with a small laugh of his own before deciding on Dumbo.

“Dumbo?!”

“It was one of the last movies I saw before joining the army,” he smiles softly before taking a bite of pizza. “This is really good!”

“Why are you so surprised?” you laugh, grabbing your glass of wine as the movie starts playing.

“I’m not surprised that you’re a good cook, I’m just surprised by how good it tastes.”

“How is that any different?” you tease, cocking an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes before taking another bite.

“You said this movie’s a comfort for you before. Why’s that?”

“Well,” Steve sighs, leaning back into the sofa, “I felt like I was Dumbo then. I still feel like I’m Dumbo now,” he laughs humorlessly. “Back then, I had all of these issues, I only had my mother, one friend, and I was bullied all the time. Yeah, I stood up for myself, but I still felt out of place and that’s because I truly didn’t belong anywhere. Then, I guess you could say, the army ‘taught me how to fly’ and I got to get away from all of it. Fast forward a bit, I ended up in the ice, I get taken out and have no clue about anything, and once again was out of place. Going back didn’t feel right any more, but sometimes staying doesn’t feel like it was the right option, either.”

“Well, if it helps at all, I’m happy you’re still here in the current time...even though I didn’t know you had the option to leave?” you question as he chuckles.

“There were these Infinity stones...it’s a whole thing, we can talk about it another time,” he smiles as he turns his attention to you.

“Well, I’m still happy you stayed. You’re meant to be here, even if it doesn’t always feel like it,” you offer with a sad smile before taking a sip of your wine. “I obviously haven’t gone through all of the same things that you have, but I know what it’s like to feel out of place. Like you don’t belong anywhere.”

“Yeah?”

“School, family, people who were supposed to be friends, ex-lovers, past jobs...it’s been a roller coaster to say the least,” you smile with a soft chuckle “but it’s slowly starting to get better.”

“Does this count as something that’s helping it take a step in that direction?”

“So far so good,” you smile at him.

Once again, the conversation flows effortlessly and you both forget about almost everything outside of it. You don’t notice when Clyde falls asleep in-between the both of you on the couch, you don’t notice when the movie comes to an end, and you don’t notice how late it’s getting. You’re both so wrapped up in conversation and each other. It’s so easy and natural.

It’s nice.

“So wait,” Steve laughs, grabbing another beer as you finish off a second bottle of wine. “What’s your Disney comfort movie?”

“No!” you groan as he starts to laugh. “You have to promise not to judge me!”

“If I didn’t judge you for that story you told me about when you were in High School, I’m not gonna judge you for anything,” he says with a small laugh as you stick your tongue out.

“Alright, my comfort movie is ‘Tangled’.”

“Never seen it.”

“What?!” you exclaim, accidentally waking Clyde as Steve bursts out laughing. “It’s such a good movie!”

“Tell me about it! Tell me why it makes you happy,” he encourages, loving seeing you riled up about it.

“My parents are still married, but my dad is kind of non-existent. It’s me, my mother, my brother, my sister, and my dad shows up when it works for him. That being said, my mother was extremely protective over me. She was controlling. Didn’t want me to cook or clean on my own, scared me into not driving too far, didn’t like me going places without her knowing, even if it was to the fucking store,” you scowl before taking a deep breath. “Anyway, it’s not like she kidnapped me or anything, but she made it so I had a sheltered life, but still expected me to take care of every thing. When I finally started to become my own person and make something of myself, she didn’t get it and there were arguments. Sure, when my dad was around, he’d sometimes take my side, but he wasn’t around enough to really do much. Watching ‘Tangled’...here’s a woman who’s in my position, and ultimately finds her way out. She’s happy and she finds someone who’s good for her. Loves her for who she is and not for what she can offer, which I believe we all really want at the end of the day,” you say more to yourself than him. “To find someone who sees us for who we are, as we are, and accepted anyway. Good and bad. When the world shuns you, or just doesn’t understand, you still want that one person who does. Flynn Ryder loves Rapunzel as she is, baggage and all, and she does the same for him. It’s a true fairy tale romance,” you smile.

“Wanna watch it after Dumbo goes off?”

“You’re not sick of me yet?”

“Not even close,” he smirks as he turns his attention towards the screen. “Oh, its already gone off,” he laughs softly.

That’s when you notice how dark it is outside.

“Shit,” you mutter as you fish your phone out of your pocket.

11:30

“Shit! Isabella’s gonna kill me!” you groan as you see the handful of missed text messages and phone calls from her.

You quickly dial the number and her phone barely rings before she answers it.

“Are you insane?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! We just started talking and lost track of time! I just realized the time,” you quickly explain, doing your best to calm her down.

“I called you and text you-”

“My phone is on silent cause I didn’t want to get a million texts from my mother. I’m sorry!”

“I should start making you work Saturdays again for this,” she mutters.

“That’s not even remotely funny.”

“It’s what you deserve, honestly. Anyway, I take it you’re still with Mr. Red, White, and Blue?”

“Yes, I’m still at Steve’s,” you chuckle as Steve shakes his head as he sips his beer.

“Planning on sitting on his face tonight or is that second date kind of thing?” she teases as Steve chokes on his beer.

“Iz!” you exclaim, mortification written all of your face as Clyde barks.

“What? It’s not like he can hear me!” she laughs.

“Yes he can!” you snap as Steve starts cracking up too.

“Oh yeah, the enhanced hearing thing. I totally paid a ton of attention in History class,” she giggles before taking a sip of what you’re assuming to be whiskey. “Well, now that you have the class’ attention-”

“I’m going now,” you quickly respond as you cover your face with your free hand.

“Remember to be safe!” she sings with a laugh.

You quickly hangup before peeking over at Steve who has a shit eating grin on his face. “Please ignore her, I tend to most of the time.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” he laughed, shaking his head.

“I am sorry though, I didn’t mean to keep you up so late, and I woke up poor Clyde,” you chuckle, petting the sweet boy, who in return just rests his head on your lap.

“I’m not. I’m having a really great time with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, seeing as you’ve gone through two bottles of wine by yourself, I’m trusting that you’re not driving home.”

“I’m gonna order a car service,” you laugh softly.

“Or you could just stay here. You can take the bed and I’ll-”

“I couldn’t do that to you.”

“There’s a spare bedroom. I’ll take that one and-”

“I should be the one to take the spare, I’m the guest.”

“My bed is comfier.”

“That’s just another reason for me to take the guest room.”

“I’ll feel better if you take my room. Giving you the better room is the least I can do after you made an amazing dinner, and groomed my dog twice in a week,” he nods, cocking his eyebrow as you laugh.

“If you insist,” you shrug with a small smile.

“I do.”

“Well, since I’m clearly not going anywhere tonight, are you up for another movie?”

“Let me make us some popcorn first.”

“I’ll clean up,” you smile, eager to get everything over and done with so you can spend more time with the man that’s somehow found a way to steal your heart.

As you two happily clean and make snacks in silence, Clyde decides he is done for the night, hopping off the sofa and slowly making his way to Steve’s room.

“I’ll make it up to him tomorrow,” he laughs as the microwave lets him know the popcorn is ready.

“I’ll cuddle him before I leave. I feel bad keeping his Dad away from him all night.”

“He’ll be okay, this is the first time its ever happened and he loves you, so I’m pretty sure it’ll all be okay,” he promises as he helps you put away the last of the dishes.

“I think it’s safe to say that this qualifies as a successful first date,” you quip, handing him the last pot.

“I think you’re right,” he agrees, putting the pot away before slowly making his way over to you, caging you in against the kitchen isle. “Thank you.”

“Mhm,” you murmur, unable to think properly with him so close to you. He smells so good, and his lips look kissable. You’re sure he can hear and feel your pulse racing through you a mile a minute.

“A first kiss is the best way to show that it’s been good first date, right?”

“Please,” you all but whisper as you wrap your arms around him.

Steve is gentle but the kiss is urgent. His lips are so soft and his beard lightly brushing against your skin in the most pleasurable way. You take the lead and slide your tongue across his bottom lip, asking for permission for more, which he grants almost instantly as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him.

You can’t remember the last time a kiss felt so all-consuming and soul stealing. In fact, you’re sure it’s never happened.

You run your hands through his hair, trying to explore as much of him as you can without going too far. You want to bottle up this moment and stay lost in it forever. Stay lost in Steve. As his hands start to roam up your back, you softly nip at his lip, and your brain lets you know that you’re going to need to stop soon if you want the night to stay PG.

It’s almost as if Steve can read your mind, because a few moments later, he’s reluctantly pulling away.

“Your lips taste like caramel,” he breathes softly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“It’s my chapstick,” you laugh breathlessly, also trying to come down from your high.

“I think we should get to that movie.”

“I think you’re right,” you smile up at him.

He kisses your forehead before letting go of you, grabbing a beer and the bowl of popcorn, and leads you back over to the sofa. The moment you two sit down, you cuddle up next to him; only slightly embarrassed to show him how much you enjoy his embrace. Steve chuckles softly, but he is happy to hold you nonetheless, pulling you close as he presses play on ‘Tangled’.

You never make it to his bedroom, because somewhere between Rapunzel finally getting to see the lanterns, and Flynn riding Maximus to Rapunzel’s tower, you fall asleep. You don’t mean to, but being in Steve’s arms is the comfiest and happiest you’ve ever been. His arms hold you like they’ve been waiting for you, and your body embraces him like he’s home.

You’ve always believed that love at first sight is total bullshit, made up for yuppies. You can’t help but feel differently now that you’ve found Steve.

You’re awoken the next morning by the soft commentary of baseball stats, and you can’t stop the smile that comes to your face.

“Please don’t tell me you stayed out here all night,” you yawn, readjusting yourself, but never breaking free of Steve’s hold.

“I was afraid to wake you up and you look so peaceful and happy when you sleep,” he explains, kissing the side of your temple.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard that,” you laugh, “where’s Clyde?”

“He’s laying down in the kitchen.”

“Has he been fed or taken for a walk?”

“It’s only 7am, babe. Everything’s fine,” he reassures with another kiss to your temple.

“Can I come with you to take him for a walk?”

“I was already planning on asking you if you wanna come with me,” he says as he pulls you a little closer. “We’ll go in 10 minutes, okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod, letting your gaze fall on the black and white baseball game being played on ESPN Classic.

You really did mean to go home after you and Steve walked Clyde, but then he talked you into staying for breakfast. Once again, you two were so caught up in talking during breakfast that neither of you noticed that it was Clyde’s playtime until he comes up to you with a ball in his mouth. So, you tell yourself that you’ll leave after playtime, but as you three head back to Steve’s apartment after an hour of playing, Bucky and Natasha invite you and Steve over to hangout since training is over. You’re hesitant at first, but slowly warm up to the idea, because both Bucky and Natasha are huge parts of Steve’s life. Well, that and you’re happy to do anything that keeps you around Steve longer.

The whole thing goes better than you expect.

“I still can’t believe you taught Steve how to make pizza,” Bucky laughs as he tosses Steve a water.

“She attempted to teach me how to make pizza,” Steve corrects as he catches the water and opens it. “I wasn’t paying much attention,” he winks at you.

You feel your whole body heat up at the comment and you turn away from him to hide your smile.

“So, how did you two meet?” Natasha asks, taking a seat next to you and handing you a glass of wine.

“I groom Clyde at Happy Tails,” you respond awkwardly, suddenly feeling very small.

A dog groomer among Superheros? You can’t help but feel a little out of place.

“I used to walk by that place all the time after The Snap!” Nat exclaims. “It was one of the few things that put a smile on my face. How long have you been a groomer?”

“In total? 8 years. At Happy Tails? 4 years, my best friend owns it. She took me on a few weeks after The Snap. She’d lost her boyfriend and just wanted to do anything to get back to normal. I was one of the very few people she’s close to that was still around, so she took me on and I worked every day. Then, when you lovely people,” you nod towards Natasha, Bucky, and Steve “reversed The Snap, she changed my schedule so that I’m off during the weekends...she also gave me a month vacation,” you laugh sheepishly before taking a sip of wine.

“I bet you didn’t give your best friend a hard time,” Natasha mutters, scowling at Steve.

“Eh, I was a little difficult at first, mainly because I was worried about her. I came around to it after a week or so. Took myself on a small vacation and slept for days.”

“See Steve? At some point, you should relax,” Bucky teases.

“I feel like I have!” he defends quickly.

“And that’s all thanks to you,” Natasha nods towards you.

As the day goes on, more of the Avengers start to filter in, and you can’t help but think that’s due to Natasha and Bucky letting everyone who walks by know that Steve and “his friend” are hanging out with them. When it starts to feel overwhelming, Steve makes his way over to you, with Clyde following behind. Subtle enough to make it seem like Steve just wants to be near you, but the look he gives you when he sits besides you is a reassuring one. You can’t help snuggle into him a little.

“So, how long have you two known each other?” Tony asks after finishing what you believe to be his third glass of bourbon.

“Uh...we met on Monday,” Steve laughs sheepishly. You can’t help but shake your head, because all of it seems crazy.

“Honestly? You two seem like you’ve known each other for years.’

“Yes,” Thor echos, bringing Steve another drink of whatever he wasn’t letting anyone besides Steve and Bucky drink. “You two seem as if your love has transcended through the eons,” he smiles at you both. “I have never seen him so happy. I am happy to meet you, Y/N,” he smiles at you as he clinks glasses with you. “This reminds me, I must call Jane. Excuse me,” he nods towards you before walking off.

You find yourself relaxing against Steve as he kisses your forehead, and for a moment you almost forget you’re in a room full of superheros. Everyone is so happy and laid back, the world isn’t on fire, and they all seem content. It doesn’t help much that Steve is on a vacation, so you don’t know how to react in those situations. Hell, you don’t know how to react to any situations involving the Avengers.

You don’t know how you’ll react.

However, you don’t think on it for too long because you can’t. Not when Steve has his arm around you, without a care, and you’re both so damn happy.

‘Tomorrow can worry about itself’ you say silently to yourself as you continue your conversation with both Wanda and Natasha about superior ice cream flavors.

“That went well,” Steve smiles as you both stumble out of Bucky and Natasha’s apartment, Clyde lazily keeping up with the both of you.

“Why, Captain Rogers, are you drunk?” you tease as you make your way inside of his apartment.

“Just a little bit,” he smirks.

“I thought you couldn’t...?”

“Nothing on earth can, but the mead from Asgard...that’s different,” he laughs. “Looks like you’re gonna be staying over again.”

“Nope, nu uh. I have to go home tonight,” you laugh, avoiding his heated gaze.

“The cost of a service back to the city is too much and it’s late. Waking up Happy seems very unfair,” Steve sighs, fake sympathy in his tone.

“Ya know, I’m starting to think you’re getting me drunk just so I’ll stay here.”

“I hadn’t thought of that, but seeing as how much you love wine and how quickly you go through it....” he smirks, wrapping his arms around you as he leans you both against the living room wall. “Stay with me tonight. I like this place a lot more with you in it.”

“Steve-”

“I know you have a life to get back to. In a week’s time, I will too,” he sighs. “I just wanna live in this a little bit more with you.”

“What happens, Steve? What happens when everything goes back to normal?”

“I’ll still want you...still want us. This isn’t something I’m doing because I’m bored, Y/N. I really like you. Much more than I anticipated, especially this fast, but I don’t want it to end. I know I don’t have the most ideal job, and asking you to stay home and not worry isn’t fair, but it’s the best I can do for now.”

“I really like you too, Steve. It honestly scares me, because I wasn’t expecting it, but I honestly...I don’t want this to be over as soon as it started.”

“Stay tonight. We don’t have to do anything, I just love being close to you. In the morning, we’ll talk about it before you leave. Is that fair?”

“Yeah,” you nod softly.

Steve lips are on yours instantly, and once again, you’re wrapped up in him. He hoists you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around him as he grips your ass. Your brain is telling you to slow down but your body eggs you on to keep going.

“Steve,” you moan breathlessly as he trails kisses down your neck, your hands running through his hair.

You’re not sure if you’re saying his name as a warning or a plea to keep going.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, resting his head against your chest. “You just...I can’t get enough of you,” he laughs breathlessly.

“Trust me, I understand completely.”

“Should we call it a night?”

“Can we watch a movie in bed?”

“We can do anything you want,” he smiles up at you.

He kisses you again before slowly setting you down, but both of you hold on to each other for a second longer, wanting to live in the embrace of one another.

It’s not like you’re against sex on the first or second date, but Steve isn’t just some guy. He’s taken up so much space in your heart and mind in so little time, and you’re scared. You’re not ready to give yourself to him in such a personal way when there’s so much at stake. It’s not that you doubt his feelings for you, but at the end of the day, he’s Captain America.

You swore off dating men in dangerous lines of work for a reason.

However, when you’re with him, you can’t focus on that. Your mind won’t let you. You just want him. All that he is and all that includes. You tell yourself that you’ll figure it out as you two go along, but that ends up scaring you even more. You’re so willing to go along with everything if it means being with him.

When did you become that person?

You borrow some of Steve’s clothes so you can wash your own, before getting into the shower and washing off the last two days. It’s not like they haven’t been the best two days you’ve ever had, but the reality of Steve’s words hit you hard and you just need a moment to decide if being with an Avenger really is something you can handle.

You get dressed in his boxers and S.H.I.E.L.D t-shirt before looking yourself over in the mirror.

“You can keep a level head about this, Y/N. Steve is not be all, end all of everything in your life,” you tell yourself as you take a deep breath.

You repeat that mantra as you make your way back into his bedroom, but seeing him shirtless under the covers quickly has you thinking differently.

“I can take the spare-”

“We’ve both been drinking and I wouldn’t do anything while you’re in your current condition...unless you really want me to.”

“Who says I don’t want you to tonight?”

“Y/N,” he warns; his eyes trailing over your body.

“I’ll be a good girl,” you promise with a sly smile as you get in next to him, feeling complete again.

“What do you wanna watch?”

“How do you feel about serial killer documentaries?”

“No.”

“It was worth a shot,” you laugh as he shakes his head. “Uhh, you wanna watch a black and white movie?”

“You like classic movies?”

“I’m obsessed with them, babe. We can watch ‘The Maltese Falcon’ or ‘Mr. Smith Goes To Washington’. Ooh! You know what we can watch?  A ‘Gentleman’s Agreement’!” you smile as you kick your feet in excitement.

“You’re full of surprises,” he laughs as he grabs the remote and starts searching for ‘A Gentleman’s Agreement’.

“I uh...didn’t get a chance to see it when it came out,” he muses before kissing your forehead.

“Yeah, you were taking a snow nap,” you yawn as he lets out a loud chuckle.

“Shut up.”

“I saw my shot and I took it,” you smirk as you get comfortable in his hold.

You make it 30 minutes into the movie before you’re sound asleep. It’s not so much that you’re sleepy, as much as it is that you’re comfortable and feel safe. Nothing has ever felt so good.

When you wake up, the sun is shinning and Clyde is looking at you, wagging his tail.

“I think someone is ready for a walk,” you mumble lazily, a smile coming to your face as you pet the happy pup.

“Yeah, I think I’m a little late this morning,” Steve responds groggily. “In my defense, it’s been a while since I’ve had that much to drink.”

“Light weight,” you tease as you tap the bed, signaling for Clyde to jump on, which he happily does. “I think he’s happy to wait just a bit longer.”

“Good,” is all Steve says before kissing the top of your head. “Cause I need at least 10 more minutes.”

All three of you lay in bed in silence, but all of you happy and content. You don’t want the moment to end, let alone the day because you know what’s coming, but you refuse to let yourself live in a world of willful and blissful ignorance. If you’re gonna be with Steve, you’ve gotta talk to him and be upfront with him.

So, when you all get out bed 10 minutes later, you put on one of his gray army hoodies as he put on a pair of sweats and a worn army t-shirt. He grabbed Clyde’s leash and you all make your way outside.

“So, do you want me to start or do you want to?” Steve asks after the three of you have been walking in silence for 5 minutes.

“I guess...this is all happening fast. Extremely fast. I don’t want to stop seeing you, and being with the real you is probably the best thing I’ve ever done, but at the end of the day...”

“I’m an Avenger,” he sighs, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t expect any of this either. I just thought I’d drop Clyde off and that would be that, but then I saw you...”

“I still don’t understand why you like me so much,” you laugh, turning away and looking around the training field.

“How could I not like you?” he scoffs. “You’re just...you’re everything I’ve been looking for and so much more. You’re so much more than I ever expected,” he finishes softly. “I know asking you to stay and figure this out with me is a lot, but I don’t want this to be over as soon as it started either,” he says, coming to a standstill.

You take a deep breath before looking at him. “I’m willing to try, Steve. I can’t promise that I won’t freak out or be irrational, because there’s always a chance that you won’t come back to me. I’m not worried about you cheating or anything like that. For some reason, completely unknown to me, I trust you. There’s just something...I just want you to come back to me, Steve. Accepting your job and all that comes with it...I’m gonna do my best,” you promise him sincerely.

“That’s all I’m asking,” he smiles at you.

The rest of the day goes by in almost a blur. Steve hands are on you whenever he has the opportunity, and you’re more than happy to allow it. You two make it a point to do very little. You just want to be with alone with each other for as much as possible. When Tony and Pepper invite you both out for lunch with them, Steve politely declines telling them that you’re almost done making lunch for them, which isn’t a lie.

When Nat and Bucky invite you both over to watch TV and play games, Steve again politely declines, letting them know that you’re in the middle of watching ‘A Gentleman’s Agreement’, since you fell asleep watching it last night.

Yes, you two are content with spending the last day of your little weekend getaway alone together. Talking, laughing, cuddling, and making out.

“Steve, I have to go,” you moan breathlessly with a small laugh as he trails kisses from your neck to clothed chest; you straddling him as you grip his shoulders tight.

“5 more minutes,” he pleads as his hands travel up your sides.

“We both know that’s not a good idea,” you moan, grinding your hips against his before you can stop yourself.

“Fuck, are we sure?”

“Steve,” you laugh, forcing yourself to stop and look down at him.

“I know, I’m sorry. Are you sure you can’t call out?”

“I can, I just shouldn’t. Bills need to get paid and clients will be pissed. Trust me, I’m not excited about setting my alarm for 5:40am,” you grumble, leaning your forehead against his. “I’m mainly not excited about being away from you. I really don’t want to remember what it’s like to sleep alone.”

“I can come over tonight.”

“I don’t want you getting sick of me so quickly.”

“Does it look like that’ll be happening any time soon?”

“Come and see me on Tuesday and we’ll do dinner,” you smile at him.

“I’m cooking this time.”

“What? Popcorn?”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” he fake laughs “I’ll think of something.”

“I’m excited to find out,” you smile before giving him a quick kiss on the lips and getting up.

“Text me when you get home.”

“I promise. Where are my clothes? I should change-”

“Your clothes are in my bedroom, and I’ll happily get them for you, but I want you to keep on what you have.”

“Steve, they’re-”

“I like seeing you in my clothes,” he smirks with a wink before getting up and following you to his bedroom.

“You’re nothing but trouble,” you giggle as you grab your clothes off of his bed.

“I’m the best kind of trouble,” he taunts, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “Are you sure you can’t stay just a little bit longer?”

“I gotta go, baby,” you tell him mournfully.

You really don’t wanna leave his side.

“Tuesday better hurry the hell up and get here,” he grunts as you giggle.

“Walk me to my car?”

“I was already planning on it.”

You give Clyde a big hug and a few pats on his head before heading out, Steve holding your hand tight. He presses soft kisses to your forehead as you both ride the elevator down, and you’re so tempted to pull out your phone and tell Isabella that you won’t be coming in. But you know better.

You can’t wrap your whole life around Steve Rogers. No matter how much you like him.

“You promise to let me know when you’re home safe?” he asks as you two stop at your car.

“Mhm, the moment I walk through the door.”

“You promise I can come and see you on Tuesday?”

“I’ll be offended if you don’t.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Steve smiles before leaning in for a kiss.

You wrap your arms around him, letting yourself get lost in Steve Rogers once again, before you hear the cheers and applause.

“That’s it! Kiss her like you mean it, Cap!” Tony calls from the doorway, and you can’t help but laugh as you two breakaway from one another.

“Fuck yeah!” Clint follows up.

“Language!” Steve calls back, causing you to laugh even harder. “I’m so sorry about this,” he sighs, his embarrassment very apparent.

“I’d be insulted if I didn’t get the royal send off,” you laugh softly in his ear. “I really don’t wanna leave you,” you whisper.

“You’re really good at making ‘goodbyes’ hard,” he scoffs.

“Just wait until you leave me for a mission.”

“Y/N,” he whines and you can’t help but laugh. “You need to get out of here before I get you to stay.”

“A very large part of me wants you to make me.”

“Nothing but trouble,” he smirks down at you.

“Tuesday,” you giggle. “I wanna see you and I’m looking forward to a great dinner.”

“I...” Steve bites his tongue and you can tell that he’s not saying what he really wants to say. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

You cock an eyebrow but don’t press the matter. “Counting down, baby,” you smile before giving him a quick kiss and getting into your car.

Fuck, you love him.

You love him so much and it terrifies you, but you’ll be dammed if you admit it before he does.

Your drive home is quick and fast, as you do your best to silence your mind. You don’t want to focus on Steve, but you can’t stop yourself. You don’t want to stop yourself.

“It took you long enough,” Steve chuckles as he answers your call.

“It’s not my fault that the closer you get to the city, the less people know how to drive...and walk” you retort as you kick your shoes off. “I wanted to call you on the way home.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to give you space.”

“Out of all of the things that you can ever give me, space isn’t something you need to worry about.”

“You say that now-”

“Y/N, I like you. I like you a lot. I’m not going to tell you things because I think you want to hear them. I tell you because I want you to know just how serious I am and I want us to be on the same page. I’m not gonna get tired of you.”

You’re thoughtful before you speak. “I like you a lot too, Steve,” you smile, sitting on your sofa.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

“How badly I want you to come over,” you laugh and he laughs with you. “I know we need our space and to have our own lives, but you’re not always going to be on vacation. You’re gonna go on missions, go to Washington, do appearances...I literally just spent my weekend with you though,” you groan, slouching down into the cushions.

“All you have to do is ask,” he practically hums.

“No,” you sigh, “this is fine. I have to get used to not being able to see you whenever I want.”

“You’re so cute when you’re at war with yourself,” he laughs.

“I guess I’ll be cute forever, cause baby, when I tell you it never ends...” you sigh as he lets out a full bodied laugh.

You two talk until you force yourself into bed. You’re both reluctant to hangup and you swear you’re in High School all over again, in love for the very first time.

“I just met you on Monday,” you yawn, wrapping the covers around you tight. “What the hell is happening to me?” you yawn again, fighting off sleep the best you can.

“Believe me, I feel the same,” Steve laughs softly. “Get some sleep, baby. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“I keep thinking this is a dream,” you respond lazily.

“I promise it isn’t.”

“Goodnight babe.”

“Goodnight Doll.”

The next day you can’t stop smiling. Even after getting stuck with the world’s worst Pomeranian.

“Okay, you’ve got to tell me what happened this weekend!” Isabella laughs as you two leave for lunch.

“I just...I’m fairly positive I’m in love,” you shrug, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You?!”

“I know! I don’t know what happened! We just clicked and we talked for hours...he’s so funny! He’s funny, thoughtful, considerate, caring, insanely sweet, he loves Clyde so damn much, and I swear his kisses send me to heaven each time,” you groan as you two reach your favorite Chinese takeout spot.

“How’s the...”

“We haven’t had sex yet,” you laugh, before placing your order.

Isabella places her order before turning to you wide eyed. “I’m sorry, you spent all weekend with that fine ass man and didn’t-”

“This is different,” you sigh as you two step to the side and wait for your orders. “I’ve never fallen this fast and this hard. I can’t just jump into this mindlessly because my vagina gets extremely excited every time he’s around,” you scoff. “Besides, lets not all forget that he’s an Avenger. The Avenger.”

“I know, but babe, I’ve known you forever. I’ve never seen you this happy or excited. I can tell that you’ve been thinking about him all day, cause that smile hasn’t let your face all day,” she laughs as you turn your head away, trying to hide smile. “I know it isn’t ideal, but love isn’t always ideal. Trust me, I would know,” she chuckles and you know she’s referring to her and Isaiah’s whimsical romance. “Have you told him?”

“What? That I love him? Fuck no!” you laugh as your orders are called out. “I’m not saying it before he does. That’s one thing I’m not budging on.”

“That’s the only thing?”

“Well...yeah. We made it official before I left, so...I guess I have a boyfriend?” you laugh.

“Ahhh!!! I’m so happy for you!” she exclaims as you two walk out and take a seat at the table outside.

“We’ll see,” you smile, opening your container of steamed dumplings. “Hey, do you and Isaiah wanna come over tomorrow? Steve’s coming over and making dinner.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, I spent Saturday meeting everyone who matters to him, so I think he should meet one of the most important people in my life,” you smile at her as your phone rings. “Hold on to whatever you have,” you smile before answering. “Hello?”

“How much longer will you be at work?” Steve all but whines as you laugh.

“I work from open to close, babe.”

“Every day?”

“What can I say? I’m dedicated,” you laugh.

“Are you sure you’ll be up for dinner tomorrow?”

“Yeah! It’ll just be late. I’ll leave the key on top of the door frame for you. I’m usually home by 7-7:30 any way, as long as my last dog isn’t a big dog.”

“Clyde is always your last dog,” Steve groans and you can tell he feels bad.

“That’s because I love Clyde, so I don’t mind.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby,” you sigh as Isabella just grins at you from the other side of the table. “Hey, speaking of tomorrow, are you okay with Isabella and her boyfriend having dinner with us?”

“I’d love it, I wanna get to know the people in your life,” he says as your heart soars, elated by his response.

“You’re amazing,” you smile. “I have to start getting back though. I’ll call you when I get home, okay baby?”

“I’ll be waiting. I lo...I’ll talk to you later,” he quickly corrects.

“I’ll talk to you late,” you hum before hanging up. “He almost said it!” you practically scream as Isabella bursts out laughing.

“Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow,” she grins.

“Just tell Isaiah not to fangirl,” you mumble and Isabella giggles.

“I’ll tell him to be on his best behavior.”

The rest of the day drags on and you know it’s only because you’re anxious to see Steve tomorrow. You feel your phone buzz every once in a while and you know it’s him. Missing you just as much as you miss him. By the time it’s time to close shop, you’re rushing around to clean and get everything in place.

“Jesus, you really are all in with this man, aren’t you?” Isabella laughs as she closes up the shop.

“It’s that obvious, huh?” you scoff as you wait for her to lock the door.

“I’m not gonna lie, I was waiting for you to call out.”

“I almost did, but I don’t wanna be all about Steve. I don’t care how much I love him. I still want us to have our own lives...our own interests.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this cautious or in love. I can’t put into words how happy I am for you,” she beams as you two start on the short trek home.

“It’s terrifying. Loving him is so terrifying and I can’t stop it...I also don’t want to.”

“Just take it one day at a time. You’re both figuring it out and that’s all you can really do.”

“I guess...God, I can’t wait to see him tomorrow,” you whine as Isabella laughs.

“Who knew your soulmate would, technically, be over 100 years old? We just needed to be patient,” she smiles as you burst out laughing.

“I hate you.”

“You hate me so much that you can’t wait to see me tomorrow,” she knowingly smirks as you two make your way inside and get on the elevator. “What time should we be over tomorrow? Should we bring anything?”

“Nah, I’m fine in all departments, just bring yourselves. I guess just come over when you’re comfy? Shower and all that stuff, get changed, and head up. I don’t want anyone making a fuss; we’ve had dinner at my place a million times.”

“Yeah, but now you have a boyfriend,” she sings as the elevator arrives at her floor.

“I do, don’t I?”

“You lucky bitch,” she laughs, stepping out as the doors close.

The minute you’re in your apartment, you call Steve.

“You’ve worked all day. Truly, from start to finish,” he huffs as soon as he answers the phone.

“You fight intergalactic monsters, I don’t wanna hear it,” you laugh softly as you throw your keys down and take your hair tie out. “Did you have a good day? From the looks of the texts you sent me, Clyde had the best day.”

“I think someone is still riding the high of this past weekend,” he chuckles and you know he’s looking at Clyde. “My day was good though. They let me work a little bit today, because we have a mission coming up.”

“Oh,” is all you said as you plopped down on the sofa.

“Baby...we still have time. I’m still on vacation.”

“That’s gonna come to an end soon.”

“Y/N-”

“I don’t wanna think about it, Steve. I just...I didn’t you’d be thrown right back into it so soon and I don’t know why. I thought I’d have at least...it doesn’t matter. I’m with you...I’m your girlfriend.”

“You don’t have to sound so depressed about it.”

“I’m the one who has to deal with you possibly not coming back home.”

“I will always come back to you, Y/N.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t make promises that you aren’t sure you can keep.”

“You are my endgame. You are my home. I will always come back to you. I haven’t had someone to fight for in a long time, but now that I have you...I’m not going anywhere,” he promises softly.

“Steve,” you sigh, running a frustrated hand through your hair “can’t you just do desk work?”

“I belong on the field, babe.”

“Fine. Whatever. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore,” you snipe.

“The conversation doesn’t end because you don’t wanna talk about it anymore, Doll.”

“I warned you that I’m not the most agreeable person.”

“And I told you the same. We’re not done talking about this-”

“Steve-”

“No, tell what you’re thinking.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s fucking obvious what I’m thinking!” you snap. “You’re not a cop or a fucking firefighter, Steve! You’re an Avenger! You’ll have missions that will require you to leave this planet! I don’t want that! I want you here, next to me every day and night! I want to be able to talk to you whenever I want, not having to wait weeks or months to tell you about the most mundane things or hear about your day!”

“You said-”

“I know what I said, Steve,” you scowl, getting more fed up with yourself than him.

“Do you want to just stop this-”

“No, because I’m too wrapped up in you now. Too wrapped up in us. I just need time. It’s a lot that you’re asking me to take on.”

“I don’t want to hurt you or stress you.”

“At this point, I think being without you would do more harm than good.”

“Y/N, I lo-”

“Don’t say it now, please,” you beg softly.

“Then when?”

“When you’re back from this mission.”

“I don’t leave for another two weeks, well, I’m not supposed to leave for another two weeks.”

“Steve,” you groan.

“I want to be up front with you. You told me that’s what you want and I’m trying-”

“I know,” you sigh. “I know.”

Steve is thoughtful before he speaks again. “How was work?”

“It’s Monday, so by default, it sucked,” you laugh softly as you change into his shirt.

“On a scale of 1 to 10?”

“A demon Pomeranian bit me 3 times before 10am.”

“Can’t you turn away bad dogs?”

“I can, but I never do. If I don’t groom it, someone else will and I feel bad for them.”

“You’re insane.”

“You don’t seem to mind,” you chuckle as you settle into bed and turn on the TV. “What are you having for dinner?”

“The pasta Bucky and I practiced making,” he laughs and you can tell he’s less than impressed with it.

“I’m sure whatever you make tomorrow is gonna be great.”

“Just know that I’m keeping it simple.”

“You know how much I love simplicity, baby.”

“And that’s why I lo...like you. What are you doing for dinner?”

“Nothing. I made the mistake of eating lunch and I’m good.”

“Babe, you need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know, but you can’t live off one meal a day. Well,” he starts before you have a chance to interrupt “you shouldn’t.”

“Anything I make I won’t finish.”

“I know you have some microwavable dinner in your freezer,” he scowls.

“I don’t want to-”

“I know you don’t, but can you just do it for me?”

“Fine,” you mutter, getting out of bed and begrudgingly making your way to the kitchen.

“Is our first argument really going to be out me going on a mission then begging you to eat dinner?” he questions in disbelief.

“Yup.”

“Baby, stop it. I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know you are and I know I’m being a bitch. I just really don’t want you to go on this mission.”

“You know I have to.”

“Steve...”

“What can I do to make this better? In this moment, what will make you happy?”

“You being here,” you mutter before you can stop yourself. “No, you can’t come here-”

“What’s your address?”

“No, I need to-”

“Why wait until tomorrow? I can be there in no time at all.”

“Because, when you’re on a mission, I won’t be able to see you whenever I want.”

“But you can now, so we should see each other as much as we can.”

“No, I’ll wait until tomorrow,” you sigh as you take out a small container of Stouffer’s lasagna. “I can’t just make my whole life about my boyfriend.”

“Us wanting to be together is normal. We are a couple and couples want to spend time together.”

“We’re not a regular couple.”

“That’s what makes this so much fun,” he teases as your microwave alerts you; letting you know that you’re food is ready. “Just take a few bites of it, please?”

“4 bites are all you’re gonna get out of me. Rogers.”

“4 bites are better than nothing. I know you’re leaving the key out for me, but is there any specific time you want me there?”

“Whenever you think is best.”

“I can leave right now if you give me your address.”

“Steve,” you laugh. “I don’t know, whatever works for you.”

“What are you so afraid of?”

“You know what I’m afraid of. You might not come home to me one day.”

“You know what I mean. This past weekend you were fine with us spending every second together and now-”

“Because this past weekend was a bubble. I didn’t expect reality to hit so fast and so hard. I have to get used to it. I have to get used to you being in another country sometimes. Hell, another fucking planet,” you mutter, taking your food out of the microwave.

“Okay, but it’s because of that, that we should see each other as much as possible. There are gonna be times when I’m away for weeks at a time and can’t get in touch with you. When I’m home, I want to be with you as much as possible.”

“Steve, I’m trying. I just thought we’d have a little more time to live in our own little world.”

“We still do.”

“I feel like this is easier for you because you don’t have to worry about me -”

“That’s what you don’t get,” he chuckles humorlessly. “I’m always going to be worried about you. I’m always going to want to save you, always going to want to make sure there’s no imminent threat to or against you...Y/N, I’m always going to worry and I don’t you fully understand that. I don’t think you fully understand what being with me means. Before it was just the world, now, you are my world. Whenever I’m out there fighting, I’ll be fighting for you. To keep you safe. This isn’t easy for me at all,” he sighs heavily.

In this moment, it hits you.

Steve is always ready to fight crime and save the world. He’s always ready to go on a mission that he may not come back from. Now that you’re in his life, the game has changed completely, and he’s truly at your mercy. He’ll do any and every thing to keep you safe from everything that could hurt you.

Without giving it a second thought, you give him your address. “I’ll see you when you get here, 13th floor, apartment 1346.”

“I can’t wait to hold you,” is all he says before hanging up.

If you didn’t feel terrible about being a bitch earlier, you sure as shit do now. How could you not think of that? How could you be so blind to the fact that Steve now has added pressure?

You sigh in frustration as you poke at your dinner. You contemplate eating the whole thing just to make him happy, but settle on eating half of it.

You’re in the middle of playing ‘Crash Bandicoot N-Sane Trilogy’ when you hear a soft knock on your door. You almost forget to pause you’re in such a rush to answer it.

“I’m sorry,” is all you say when you open the door, before wrapping your arms around him.

“No, I’m sorry. I know this isn’t easy and I know what I’m asking isn’t fair,” he responds softly into your hair before kissing it.

“Can you stay tonight?”

“I can do whatever you want me to, Doll.”

You stay in his embrace a little bit longer before quickly ushering him inside, not wanting him to be seen or bothered by any of your neighbors.

“So, this is your place huh?” he smiles, looking around. “It suites you.”

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” you laugh, closing the door and going into your kitchen, wrapping up what was left of your lasagna.

“You ate half?”

“I felt bad,” you sigh, putting it in the fridge.

“I don’t want to go, but I want to keep you safe.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Steve.”

“I know you don’t but we need to.”

“Why?”

“Because if we’re going to be together, I need you to accept that this comes with it. Me being an Avenger.”

“Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I’m not accepting it,” you bite.

Steve sighs and places his hands on his hips. “How long are you going to be upset about this?”

“I’m going to be upset every time you leave and I think that’s pretty fair.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugs, accepting the fact he’s not gonna get the outcome he wants as he sits on your sofa. “Are you too mad at me to let me hold you?”

“No,” you mumble as you sit on his lap and curl up against him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby,” he coos as he rubs your back. “What are you playing?”

“Crash Bandicoot.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know that one,” he laughs.

“It’s currently pissing me off. I keep dying at the same part and I can’t seem to unlock the part of my brain that remembers how I beat this as a child.”

“Can I watch you play?”

“You mean, can you watch me lose my shit? Sure,” you scoffs as he chuckles.

Steve can’t help but laugh every time you get frustrated after getting killed by a barrel full of waste, but he genuinely feels bad when you’re so close to finally winning, but fall into a pool of acid.

“I hate this stupid game,” you mutter as you toss the controller onto your coffee table.

“Then why do you keep playing it?”

“Because I love it,” you groan, leaning into him as he lets out a hearty laugh.

“Oh hush, where’s my best boy?”

“He’s with Buck and Nat, I actually wanted to ask you about that by the way.”

“Hmm?” you question, straddling him.

“When I leave, would you mind looking after him? I’ll feel a lot better if I know he’s with you. You can even stay at my place if you want.”

“I’ll be more than happy to watch him. In all honesty, it’ll probably help me just as much as it’ll help you,” you smirk, wrapping your arms around him.

“You are so beautiful,” he says so softly it’s practically a whisper.

“You think so?”

“Mhm, and I really love that you’re gonna sleep in my shirt,” he husks as he grips your thighs.

“Steve,” you moan softly.

“I love the way my name sounds coming from your lips.”

“I love the way you make me feel.”

“Yeah? Then show me,” he husks.

Without any hesitation, you kiss him deeply, pulling him as close to you as possible. Your tongues dance together as Steve’s hands slowly travel under your shirt.

“Steve...wait,” you breathe out, breaking away from him.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No...I want to. God, you have no idea how badly I want to, I just...”

“Are you a virgin?”

“Ha, not in the slightest,” you laugh awkwardly. “This is...you’re different. The way I feel about you, the way we feel about each other...it’s so much so fast, and I’m just a little nervous to be that intimate with you so soon.”

“We can take this at whatever pace you want, Sweetheart. I’m just happy to be with you.”

“I feel bad because I keep giving you boners and then stopping,” you huff as Steve bursts out laughing.

“I’m a patient man, don’t worry baby,” he smiles before pulling you close kissing you deeply.

“Isaiah’s working overnight and I’m...oh,” Isabella stops short as she freezes in your doorway. “I’m so sorry, I can-”

“No, you’re fine,” you chuckle as Steve laughs softly.

Isabella looks over you two and raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you laugh, getting off of Steve who quickly readjusts his pants. “You wanna hangout?”

“Well...yeah. I brought booze and chips,” she sighs, holding up a bottle of whiskey and a bag of your favorite chips. “I can go away though-”

“Please, it’s really okay,” Steve promises sincerely as you go into the kitchen and grab glasses.

“You were playing Crash?!” she exclaims, making her way inside after she closes the door behind her.

“Horribly,” you mutter, making your way back into your living area and setting the glasses down.

“Can I try?”

“Please do, cause I’m ready to throw the damn thing out the window.”

“I think that has more to do with you being burned out than playing the game,” she corrects as she hits the ‘X’ button on the controller and starts the game.

“Don’t start,” you huff, sitting on the other side of her, arms crossed.

“You have a man now, go on vacation.”

“My man is going on a mission, so I’ll just be lonely.”

“Booo!”

“Please don’t encourage her,” he groans, “she needs no help with being mad at me.”

“Can’t you do desk work or something?”

“See?!” you exclaim as Steve shakes his head.

“I’m in for a long night,” he sighs.

As the night goes on, you’re surprised by just how relaxed Steve and Isabella are around each other, and it makes you smile. You don’t care much for anyone’s approval, but Isabella knows you better than anyone else. If she didn’t like him, you’d probably have to give things a second thought.

“Alright lovebirds, I gotta go, I decided to have hops and dreams, and as a result; I know have a store to run tomorrow,” Isabella whines as she puts down the controller. “Besides, I’ve been here for 2 hours. I’m sure you two would love to get back to not having sex.”

“You’re so funny,” you smile sarcastically, flipping her off as Steve laughs softly and shakes his head. “Besides, I’m opening the store with you, so I should go-”

“Take the day. Hell, take the week.”

“Iz, I can’t just-”

“I’m the owner of the store and I’m telling you to take time off. Spend as much time as you can together before he leaves,” she smiles softly.

“That’s so funny, cause I said the same thing,” Steve says matter-of-factly, a shit eating grin tugging at his lips.

“Hush you,” you tease, sticking your tongue out at him. “Iz, my dogs-”

“Can go to Jazz, Lisa, myself, and whoever else wants to make extra money. If the owners get pissy, they can just reschedule,” she shrugs.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s fine, babygirl. Take the much deserved break and when Mr. Stars and Stripes go on his mission, I’ll let you bury yourself in work, okay?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, crazy,” she laughs before dipping down and kissing the top of your head. “Rogers, I’m expecting a gourmet meal tomorrow.”

“Just what I needed, pressure,” he scoffs.

“Aren’t I a dream?” she smiles coyly. “Bye kids,” she sings as she makes her way out of your apartment.

“Well, what do you feel like doing?” Steve asks, a smile plastered to his face, as he pulls you back in his lap.

“Wanna watch a movie with me in bed?”

“One of my favorite things to do.”

Steve helps you clean up around the apartment, before you lead him to your bedroom and you both hop into bed. You get 20 minutes into the ‘The Maltese Falcon’ before you’re fast asleep, happy to be back in Steve’s arms and so close to him.

When you wake up, you hear Steve on the phone in the hallway and he sounds irritated.

“Yeah well, it’s gonna have to wait until I get back....Nick, you all forced me on this vacation and now you’re forcing me out of it...what’s changed?! You said...the end of this week? That’s too soon! Yeah well, I’m not gonna be back until tomorrow, so I guess we’ll figure it out then,” he husks angrily before hanging up and making his way back into your bedroom. He lets out a heavy sigh when he sees you sitting up. “How much of that did you hear?

“Enough,” you respond so softly you’re not entirely sure he hears you.

“I’m sorry-”

“Please don’t,” you sniffle out, fighting back tears. ‘Stop it, there’s no need for tears,’ you tell yourself mentally.

“Please don’t cry.”

“You have to go and train, don’t you?”

“I’m not going back until tomorrow.”

You pull your legs up to your chest and rest your head on your knees. “We can go back tonight after dinner.”

“Y/N no-”

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is, Steve. It’s not like either of us stomping our feet will make it any better. Let’s just...we’ll face it head on.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says sympathetically, his showing genuine sorrow as gets in next to you. He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll make this up to you.”

“How?” you scoff in sheer annoyance. “How can you make this up to me? You’re an Avenger and I have to share you with the world. I just have to accept that,” you sigh, breaking out of his hold and getting up. “I have to take a shower,” is all you say as you leave the room.

It’s not like you don’t hear how much of a bitch you’re being, and you know he feels terrible, but everything is just happening so fast. You went from thinking you’d have a week of having him to yourself and two weeks of being able to see him while he trains, to thinking that you’ll have him to yourself for a week, to now having to having to make the most out of what little time you can spend together before he leaves for God knows how long at the end of the week.

You can’t help but be a little hurt and upset.

You turn your shower on as hot as you can stand it and let yourself get lost in the heat. You don’t want to be angry with Steve, you don’t want to be a bitch, and don’t want to spend the week arguing. You just wanna be with the man who stole your heart and soul.

“Do you want me to go?” Steve asks from the doorway.

“No,” you sigh, running your hand through your hair. “I want you to come in.”

You hear the door open and close and he leans against it. “Y/N, I’m yours. Yeah, I’m an Avenger, but I’m also Steve. Your Steve. I told you, while I’m out there doing whatever I have to do, I have you in mind and you only. I’m coming home to you.”

“Do you know how long you’ll be gone for?” you ask as you pour soap into your towel before starting to wash yourself.

“Tony thinks it’ll be about a month. Depending on how bad things are, it may be longer, but that’s why they want me back now. The sooner we leave the better.”

“Of course it’s a fucking month,” you mutter, scrubbing your skin a little rough than you mean to. “I’m sorry, Steve. For being a bitch...just walking out like that. It’s not healthy and it’s been a while since I’ve done this. I’m going to do my best to make the best out of the time we have before I have to just...wait for you,” you shrug, your heart feeling heavy at the weight of your words, as you wash the soap off your body.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m going to miserable the entire time.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, baby,” you scoff, scrubbing your feet, trying to keep your balance. “I just want you to focus and come home to me.”

“It’s gonna be okay, just trust me,” Steve promises as you turn off the water.

“Can you pass me my towel?” you ask, holding out your hand from behind the shower curtain.

“Do you believe me?” he asks as hands you a towel.

“I want to,” you confess as you wrap the towel around you “but you can’t guarantee me that you’ll be safe. That you’ll be okay,” you finish as you pull back your shower curtain. “But I’m in this. I’m all in with you and I’ll figure out a way to deal with this without being such an asshole all the time.”

“In your defense, it is a lot to ask of you in such a short time, and I know you’re trying your best,” he smiles softly as he makes his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you. “We don’t have to go back tonight.”

“I don’t want Nick Fury hating me on top of every thing else,” you chuckle softly. “We’ll do dinner and I’ll pack some clothes after, then...”

“Then comes the beginning of the hard part.”

You stay in his embrace for a little longer before deciding it’s time to start the day. You quickly make your way into your bedroom as Steve sits in the living room and waits for you. You throw on some underwear and a pair of shorts and your ‘Hello Kitty’ vans shirt, before putting your hair up in a ponytail.

“What are you making for dinner, babe?” you call from your bedroom, searching for your corgi socks.

“Chicken parm and spaghetti. Bucky and I made it at least 10 times last night,” he laughs.

“Look at you, trying to be Gordon Ramsey! I’m so touched,” you tease, finally finding your socks and putting them on before walking out. “You’re gonna need to go grocery shopping though, because I don’t have any breading...or chicken.”

“I guess that would be a key part in the whole chicken part of the chicken parm,” he nods. “Do you wanna go with me?”

“Out in public?”

“That’s where grocery stores tend to be, Doll,” Steve chuckles. “I understand if you don’t want to I just thought I’d ask. It’s a lot and things will change for you...a lot.”

“You like me enough to be seen with me in public?”

“Do you like me enough to be seen with me in public?” he questions with a nervous laugh.

“Lets do this,” you smile softly.

You both put on caps and sunglasses before you toed your shoes on and made your way out. Between the extreme anxiety you feel and commentary going on inside your head, you’re not sure if people actually recognize him as you two take the short walk to the grocery store.

Then you get inside.

“Is that Captain America?”

“Can’t be, he doesn’t have a girlfriend...does he?”

“Do you think he’d date someone like her?”

“You mean someone no one knows or someone with tattoos?”

“No way...can’t be him, not with her.”

“I hear them too, babe. Just take a deep breath,” he encourages as you squeeze his hand tight.

“Apparently I’m not worthy of being seen with you,” you gripe as two look over the chicken selection.

“Stop it, that’s bullshit and you know it.”

“I feel sick.”

“The first time is the hardest part, babe. We’re practically done. Just relax, honey,” he tries to calm you, but you can tell that he’s even losing his resolve as more people start to murmur.

“You can’t lose your cool, babe.”

“I don’t like how they’re talking about you.”

“Me neither, but you’re Captain America.”

“I’m your boyfriend before I’m anything else.”

“Aw, you think I’m that special?” you tease, looking up at him with a huge smile on your face.

“Stop asking questions you already know the answer to,” he smirks down at you.

Without thinking, you get on your tip toes and give him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Well, if there was any confusion it’s cleared up now,” he chuckles as you giggle to yourself.  

“Lets finish up and go home, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

The both of you stop being so picky and pick up the few items you need and make your way over to self checkout. You hear people taking pictures and groan as you bury your face into Steve’s muscle and he laughs.

“At least you never have to doubt just how serious I am about us.”

“It’s not that. My mother is gonna see these and kill me,” you huff and Steve lets out a full body laugh.

The walk home is quick and Steve makes sure to shield you from prying eyes. In some ways, you think that maybe it is too early to go public, but you’re happy to have it out of the way before he leaves. When he comes back from his mission, you just want to be with him completely. Having to deal with all of the emotions you know you’ll feel when he comes back and going out in public together for the first time would have been overwhelming. Getting everything that’s messy and complicated out of the way now, will make everything that happens after he comes home much easier.

However, you’re still not ready for him to tell you that he loves you, even though you’re desperate to hear it.

“I don’t think that was too terrible,” Steve shrugs as you both make your way inside you’re apartment.

“Except for the part where you were ready to yell at the whole store,” you scoff, kicking off your shoes before taking off your hat and sunglasses.

“You’re my girl and I don’t want anyone talking bad about you,” he says as if it’s the most simple thing in the world.

“C’mon babe, even you have to admit that you didn’t see yourself falling for someone like me,” you laugh, leaning against your sofa.

“Whether I did or didn’t, you are who I’ve fallen for, and I want everyone treating you with kindness and respect,” he smirks, making his way over to you and wrapping his arms around you. “And can I just say how happy I am that I’ve fallen for you?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the one I’ve been waiting for forever,” he confesses softly before kissing you deeply.

You swear you can live in his kisses forever.

“Now, Mr. Rogers, you have a dinner you need to get started on,” you breathe with a small laugh as you two breakaway from one another.

“It can wait a little bit longer,” he husks before crashing his lips into yours again.

You don’t make any attempt to stop him this time, tired of fighting something you both want. Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you, your right leg wrapping around his waist as both of his arms wrap around you. You start running your hands through his hair, pulling him impossibly close as he squeezes your hips tight. You let out a silent moan as he trails kisses from your lip to your neck.

“Steve...please,” you beg softly, once again, not entirely sure what you’re begging him for. His only response is to nibble on your neck as his fingers start fumble with the button on your shorts. “Need...I need it. Just need you,” you whimper pathetically.

You both groan in frustration when his phone starts going off, knowing it’s a call he can’t ignore.

“Fuck,” you mutter as you slowly let go of him.

“I don’t have to take it,” he breathes against your neck.

“Baby, we both know you do.”

“Okay, let me amend that, I don’t want to answer it.”

“You have a job to do, baby,” you laugh softly, unwrapping your leg from around his waist. “Besides, knowing all the things I have planned for you, it’s probably best that we don’t start that now.”

“You can’t say things like that and expect me to want to take work calls,” he whines as you laugh.

“Get to saving the planet,” you nudge softly.

“Fine,” he sighs reluctantly before breaking away and pulling his phone out of his pocket, as he makes his way into the kitchen. “What?” he huffs angrily; answering the call he never wanted.

You chuckle softly as you get up and turn on your TV, before turning on your PS4, readying yourself for another frustrating round of Crash Bandicoot.

When you hear Steve get into another heated disagreement with whoever is on the other end of his phone, you decide that it’s best for you to keep your distance. You know why he’s pissed because you’re pissed about the same thing, but your resolution to the situation won’t help anything.

“I don’t give a damn, Buck. I was given until the end of the week and now they’re trying to force me back now...no, they can wait for me to come back. We’re coming back...yes, we’re coming back tonight...she’s my girl and she has a say in this...well, you have a Nat, of course you don’t understand...I don’t care if any of you do or don’t understand it...I love her, Buck. The least I can do is not rip myself away from her right as I’m asking her to trust me...yeah, we went to the grocery store together....it’s the goddamn grocery store, people would’ve taken pictures with or without me being there with her...well, you all can deal with it without me being there. I’ll be there soon enough and everyone can bitch me out then,” Steve huffs angrily before hanging up.

Your heart swells as you try to ignore the fact that he just told his best friend that he loves you.

He loves you.

“Okay, I think I can make this without your help, but...just in case I do,” Steve starts as he makes his way into the living room. “wait until you smell something burning before you come running in. It’ll help soften the blow to my ego,” he smiles softly.

“Steve, am I getting you into trouble?”

“You heard that?”

“Only bits and pieces...it sounds like I got you into trouble.”

“You didn’t get me in trouble, babe,” he sighs, sitting down next to you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.

“Are we moving too fast?”

“Doesn’t feel like it to me. I wish I could stay, God, you don’t know just how badly I want to stay. I finally feel like I belong somewhere and that didn’t happen until I met you.”

“You’re sure? You’re you want this? Want me?”

“Hey, come here,” he states softly, reaching over and grabbing your thigh so he can pull you onto his lap so that you’re straddling him. “Of course I’m sure. Yeah, it’s been a week, but why does that matter? I’m pretty sure we feel the same way about each other, so everyone else can deal with it. Yeah, it’s gonna take some getting used to and some adjusting, but I’m happy. I’m so damn happy with you. I want this. I want us. I want you,” he promises before taking your hand in his and kissing your palm.

“I’m really happy you adopted Clyde,” is all you can think to say, feeling overwhelmed by his words, as he starts laughing.

“Me too.”

“A month without you?”

“I promise, the minute I’m back home, you and Clyde will have all of my attention.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” you chuckle softly.

“So...what else did you hear?” Steve questions, placing another soft kiss into your palm.

“Not much,” you lie, turning away slightly as you try and stop a smile from spreading across your face.

“Mhm, sure didn’t,” he laughs before pulling you close and kissing you deeply.

You two make-out for a while before you feel his hands travel back down to your shorts, and you force the both of you to stop. You’re more than sure that dinner won’t happen if you get him on your bed. So, he reluctantly forces himself away from you and force your attention on Crash Bandicoot.

You’re sure you’ve never played the game so well.

When Isabella and Isaiah show up, you do your best to mask every negative emotion you’re feeling, knowing Isabella will go toe to toe with Nick Fury herself if it means you’ll be happy. While Steve finishes up dinner and Isaiah sets up the table, you practically force Isabella to help you beat another level on Crash.

“So, uh, you see the news lately?” she asks as she tries to avoid rocks being thrown at her by a muscled up fox.

“Yup,” you laugh softly, knowing exactly where the conversation is heading.

“Seems that Captain America has a new girlfriend.”

“I heard about that.”

“So, you two are officially official?”

“Yes we are,” you smile softly, mainly to yourself.

“Have you told him-”

“He can hear us,” you quickly interrupt.

“In my defense, I do my best to mind my own business!” Steve calls from the kitchen and both and Isabella start cracking up.

“Text me later?” she asks, finally beating the level.

“You better your ass,” you promise.

“Not fair!” Steve calls from the kitchen and you just shake your head.

Dinner is ready in almost no time at all and you’re happily surprised at how well it turns out. Isaiah is a little quiet at first, not wanting to say the wrong thing, but after a few beers, he becomes the most relaxed person in the room. You try your best to not drag anything out, but everyone is having such a good time and you’re just so damn happy. Yes, you have your own complicated ass family, but Isabella has always been the main one to look out for you. Isaiah, well, he loves you just because Isabella loves you. Seeing the three of them get along so well really means the world to you, because it helps you feel even more at ease. It’s another sign that things are going in the right direction.

Things are as they’re meant to be.

“Well, I hate to cut the party so short, but I have work in the morning and the fact that my sweet love has downed 6 beers, after working an overnight, lets me know that he’s beat,” Isabella laughs.

“I’m fine for another few hours,” Isaiah defends with a slight slur and all of you chuckle.

“No, it’s time to call it a night,” Isabella chuckles as she starts to get up “but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Uh no,” you respond awkwardly, fumbling with your fingers a little. “I’m gonna spend the week at the compound...then I’ll kinda just be staying there to watch Clyde...for a month.”

“What?”

“His mission got moved, so he’s gonna be leaving sooner than we thought, so we’re gonna spend the rest of the week together...well, the most best that we can, then I’ll be staying at the compound and watching Clyde until he comes back. I’ll still be coming to work and everything...I just won’t be here.”

“Do you want the month off?”

“Hell no,” you scoff “I need something to keep me busy.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m gonna be fine,” you promise. “It’s just an adjustment,” you tell her while you smile at Steve.

“Well...okay then. If you need me-”

“I know, babe. Please believe you’ll be hearing from me a lot,” you humorlessly chuckle as you get up and hug her. “I love you.”

“I love you too, babe” she responds mournfully.

After Isabella and Isaiah head out, you start to pack a few things while Steve puts away leftovers. The silence in uncomfortable, but it is heavy, both of you aware of what’s coming in the next few days, not sure what to really expect. You’ve never been this in love and the reality of losing Steve just as quickly as you got him becomes more and more clear by the minute.

“Will I be able to talk to you?” you ask as you and Steve make your way to the compound.

“No, but depending on how serious it is, I might be able to get messages to you.”

“Might?”

“It’s for your safety, babe.”

“I know, I know,” you sigh, looking out the window.

“Talk to me. What’s going on in that gorgeous head of yours.”

“You already know.”

“Y/N, you can’t just shut down because you’re uncomfortable or unhappy.”

“I just don’t see the point of having the same conversation. You know how I feel-”

“But I’m not a mind reader, babe.”

“You’re gonna be gone for a month. Maybe less, maybe more. I’m just supposed to trust and believe that you’re gonna be okay. Yes, we’ve talked about this a million times, but we keep having less and less time together, and I just...it’s a lot, okay? It’s a lot and I don’t like it,” you huff.

“I don’t like it either, babe. I truly don’t, but I’m coming back home to you-”

“You don’t know that,” you almost sob as he pulls up to the compound, pulling into the parking deck.

“If you keep believing the worst, how are we ever gonna get past this?”

“I’m new to this, Steve. I’ve never...I swore off dating guys that have  dangerous professions, then you came along and...I’m trying because I want to be with you. You’re all I think about all the time, but it’s a lot at once. We were supposed to have more time and we don’t.

“Doll, I promise we’ll have more time when I get back, and I will come back.”

“You don’t-”

“I’m not letting anything on this planet, or any other planet, take me away from you. You’re the woman I’ve been waiting for and I’m not about to lose you as soon as I found you. I don’t care what I have to face,” he promises sincerely, wiping away your lone tear.

How are you supposed to argue with him after that?

So, you put on a brave face as you two head inside, doing your best ignore all of the anxiety and fear you feel.

As you and Steve make your way to his apartment, you’re greeted by some of the Avengers, but you can sense the dread and irritation they feel towards Steve.

It makes your blood boil.

“I gotta go and deal with some things,” Steve sighs as he puts away the last of your clothes in one of his drawers “but we’ll watch a movie or something when I get back, okay?” he offers weakly.

You just nod softly as you settle onto his bed. Steve lets out a heavy sigh before kissing your forehead and making his way out.

You’re alone in your misery for all of 5 minutes before there’s a soft knock on Steve’s apartment door. You slowly make your way over and open it, only to be met with Clyde almost knocking you over.

“Hey bud,” you laugh, getting on your knees and hugging the overly excited pup.

“I figured he might do you some good...plus, I’m fairly sure he missed you and Steve a lot,” Natasha laughs softly.

“Yeah, I think we could both use the company right now,” you laugh softly.

“Hey...I just want you to know, no one’s mad at you. I think we’re all just shocked and the timing is horrible. Steve plays everything close to the chest, but since he met you...none of us have ever seen him this enamored with anyone. We all pushed for him to take a break and now we’re all forcing him to come back...it’s not his fault, Y/N,” she sighs.

“I know it isn’t and I’m slowly understanding what I’m signing up for...I’m not going anywhere though. I know we’ll work it out and I know there will be more times like this...it’s just happening all at once. We both thought we had more time and now...it’ll be okay. I know it’s gonna be okay, I just have to adjust. With time and patience I will,” you smile up at her.

“Do you love him?” she asks before she has time to stop herself.

“I-”

“I’m pretty positive I know the answer, but it’s none of my business either way. I’m sorry,” she chuckles softly. “I’ve gotta get to this meeting. I promise we’ll try not to keep him too long.”

“I appreciate that,” you smile towards her before she nods and turns to walk away.

You close the door as Clyde runs to the sofa and settles himself on it, trying to think of things to keep you occupied. You start with a shower, needing the water to wash away the stress and frustration of your day. After that, there’s not much to do. You pull on one of Steve’s t-shirts and settle into the center of the bed, trying to find something to watch, but nothing holds your attention. Soon, Clyde joins you on the bed and curls up by your feet, and you can’t help but smile at the small action.

You groan in frustration when you hear your phone go off for what feels like the millionth time. You ignore the texts from your family and go right to Isabella’s text.

My Last Brain Cell: okay, so do you love him?

Y/N: So much and it’s terrifying me.

My Last Brain Cell: Does he love you?

Y/N: That’s what he told Bucky.

My Last Brain Cell: Look at you! On a first name basis with the Avengers!

Y/N: Stop it lol

My Last Brain Cell: Listen, I saw the way he looked at you tonight, babe. He’s all in.

Y/N: I know and that’s not the problem.

My Last Brain Cell: I know.

Y/N: What if he doesn’t come home, Iz? What if he gets hurt really bad?

My Last Brain Cell: You should tell him how you feel.

Y/N: No, I want him to have something to look forward coming home to.

My Last Brain Cell: He already does, babe. You.

You let her words roll around in your head as you settle into the center of Steve’s bed, trying to force yourself to calm down. You finally settle on the silent version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde before you slowly succumb to sleep.

“I wanted to be back before you were asleep,” Steve sighs as he gets in next to you.

“I’m awake,” you mumble, eyes still closed as you roll over and cuddle up next time to him.

“Sleep,” he laughs softly, stroking your hair as he kisses the top of your head.

“No, our days are limited. Tell me everything,” you yawn, forcing your eyes open.

“So stubborn. I love that,” he scoffs, but you can hear the smile in his tone. “What do you wanna hear about first?”

“The mission, I guess.”

“There’s been some...well, a lot of trouble on a planet called Xandar that’s now seemed to make its way to Sakaar. We’ve been asked to try and calm down the situation peacefully.”

“Which I’m assuming you all believe it won’t be peaceful because they’re sending all of you.”

“Yup,” he sighs as he shifts his weight a little.

“What aren’t you telling me, Steve?”

“I don’t want you to get up and leave.”

“Steve.”

“Nick...he told us how long he thinks it’s gonna be.”

“Fuck, just tell me.”

“A month and half to two months.”

You feel your eyes watering but you refuse to cry. You refuse to storm out. You just lay there and take a deep breath as you clench your eyes shut.

“Please say something,” he begs desperately.

“Why so long?”

“If there’s clean up, and there will be, we have to stay behind and help. Which, truly is the right thing to do. All we do is make a mess anyway.”

“Well, if they could fight for themselves, they wouldn’t need you all,” you scowl.

“Y/N.”

“It’s not like I’m wrong, Steve. I understand that places get destroyed and people get hurt, but I’ve also lived long enough to remember the world without the Avenges vs the world with it. We’d be fucked without you all, because it’s not like the defenses without you guys is enough. But sure. Lets all bitch because a few buildings need to be rebuilt.”

“Baby-”

“I’m just being bitter,” you sigh, fighting the urge to leave his arms.

“If you want out-”

“I’m clearly not going anywhere, so don’t even. If I were going to leave, it would’ve been before now.”

“Have I told you how much I like you?”

“A time or two,” you giggle softly. “What time do you have to be up?”

“5:30.”

“Of course you do.”

“I promise I’ll make this up to you, baby. I’m sorry,” he promises sincerely, pressing a soft kiss into your hair.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Truly. These are the lives we lead and we just...we’ll make it work. You need to get some rest.”

“And what if I don’t wanna rest just yet?”

“Steve,” you giggle, feeling the exact same way “you need to be at your best and that means resting.”

“Why do I feel like this means it’s gonna be a torturous week for the both of us?”

“I mean, if you get them to send you back to me earlier, you may just get a going away gift,” you smirk before yawning.

“See, you say you want me to rest up, but then you say things like that.”

“Goodnight, babe,”

“Goodnight, darlin’.”

In the days that follow, you do your best to be supportive and pleasant. You don’t make a stink when Natasha and Bucky come over to talk about strategies, you bite your tongue when Nick and Tony pull him away from you in the middle of the night, and you don’t start an argument when his days start at 5:30am and end at 11pm.

However, by day 4, you finally snap.

“Why are you sleeping on the sofa?” Steve asks as he makes his way out of the bathroom, towel around his waist.

“You can’t wake me up by getting out of bed if I’m not in bed,” you shrug, flipping through channels, keeping your attention on the screen in front of you.

“Y/N-”

“Actually, maybe I should sleep in the guest room. That way, when Bucky and Nat come over and keep you up till 2am, I don’t disturb you all with my snoring.”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what, Steve? You asked me a question and I simply gave you an answer. Stop what?”

“Being a brat,” he warns, crossing his arms over his chest as you let out a humorless laugh.

“Oh? I’m being a brat? Okay. Good to know.”

“You know-”

“Cause you know what’s fucking funny? I’m not the one leaving in two days for a fucking month, maybe two. I’m not the one who is constantly running back and forth between training, meetings, and strategy plans. In fact, between the two of us, I think it’s you who’s being the brat.”

“I’m being the brat?!”

“Everything you’ve asked me to deal with, I’ve dealt with! I’ve tried to handle this entire situation with grace and patience! Is it too much for me to ask that we’re at least able to have dinner together?! I feel like I should be allowed to ask for dinners with my boyfriend without them being interrupted for something that should’ve been discussed when the Avengers kept you all fucking day!”

“Baby, I’m trying to-”

“I’m trying too, Steve! I have a right to be mad!” you yell, getting up and storming into the bedroom.

“You think this makes me happy?! Not spending time with you? Not ending my days with you in my arms?! I just want to come home to you!”

“That’s what I want too! If there’s anyone that wants that, it’s me!” you yell, finally feeling everything that you’ve been trying to bury. “I’ve suppressed everything that I’ve-”

“When I’ve asked you not to! When I’ve begged-”

“Why should I keep having the same fucking argument with you?! Why should I-”

“Because it’s how you feel!” he husks, pinning you against one of the walls in his bedroom. “Because I’ve been begging you to tell me everything you’ve been feeling!”

“Haven’t I?”

“Doll, there’s nothing that I want more than you to argue with me and tell me that you want me to stay,” he husks as he slowly starts to unbutton and unzip your shorts.

“Don’t,” you whimper effortlessly, trying to hold on to your resolve.

“Don’t what, baby?”

“Don’t put me together just to pull me apart.”

“Oh, Darlin’, I’ve been dying to pull you apart,” he groans moans as he pushes your shorts down. “I think that’ll be just what you need to make you fall in line,” he moans as dig your nails into his shoulders. “Just what you need.”

“Show me then, show me just how much you want me to be your good little girl,” you beg, starting to run your hands through his hair.

“Baby-”

“Steve, we gotta get to this meeting!” Bucky calls as he pounds on Steve’s front door.

“If you tell me not to go, I won’t,” Steve sighs against your lips.

“I want you to be as prepared as you can be,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against is shoulder. “At some point, we’ll have time for each other.”

“I want that time to be now.”

“But it isn’t,” you sigh.

“What if it was? What if I just walked away from all of this and focused on you?”

“Steve, I-”

“Bud, we gotta go!” Bucky calls again from the doorway.

“I’ll be waiting,” you sigh. “I’ll be waiting and I’ll be happy to be with you in whatever way I can be,” you smile the best you can.

“You know that I want to be with you, right?”

“I do,” you promise sincerely.

“Just..don’t change your mind before I get back,” he begs sincerely.

“I’m in this for the long haul, baby,” you smile at him before kissing his lips. “You just have to make sure you make it back to me.”

“I will. Y/N, on everything I hold dear, I swear I’ll be the man you need and want me to be.”

For the next two days, Steve does his best to be an Avenger and a boyfriend. He makes sure to make time for you and the things that make you smile, while doing his best to make time for work out regiments and battle preparations. You’ve given up on giving yourself to him completely, because something always comes along to ruin it, but you’re secretly happy about that.

You want him to come back to you before you’ve given everything away. It’s not like you don’t believe him, but you still want something to hold on to until he returns to you.

Even if it is the most old fashioned thing in the world.

“We need to stop,” you breathe as Steve kisses down to your clothed chest, trying to collect yourself.

“But we don’t want to stop.”

“You’re supposed to be up in 3 hours. You need your rest.”

“I don’t want to leave here without you knowing-”

“Trust me, baby, I know,” you smile at him.

“Please don’t change your mind while I’m gone.”

“You don’t change your mind while you’re gone.”

“I could never.”

“When you get back...”

“When I get back,” Steve laughs softly “be prepared for some changes.”

“Such as...?”

“I’ve cleared out a space in my closet for you, as well as a few drawers.”

“Steve-”

“I want you here as much as possible. I want you to move in.”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t know any better,” you laugh, as he lays down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he chuckles as you rest your head on his chest.

“You haven’t really spent any time with me. You’ve been busy. What if we spend time together when you get back and you think I’m the worst roommate?”

“I won’t think you’re the worst roommate. Besides, even if you were, I’d be able to deal with it. It would be your one flaw.”

“Ha! My one flaw.”

“Well, you are stubborn as all hell and a bit of a cover hog.”

“That’s because, whenever you roll over, you take the cover with you!”

“I do not.”

“You do too! And since we’re on the topic, you’re a bit of a pillow hog too.”

“Am not!”

“Whenever I come back from the bathroom in the middle of the night, you’ve sprawled yourself out and you’re partially on my pillow.”

“Technically, it’s my pillow.”

“Clyde is a much better sleeping buddy.”

“We’ll see how you feel about that after a week,” he laughs softly.

“Steve?”

“Yeah babe?”

“Promise me you’ll come back.”

“Y/N, I promise I’ll come back to you and we can do this right.”

“Steve, I lo-”

“Tell me when I get back,” he tells you softly before pressing a soft kiss into your hair.

You try to stay awake, wanting to get in as much time as you can with Steve before he leaves, but he’s just so damn warm and inviting.

“It’s time for me to go,” he says softly, gently shaking you awake.

“Not yet,” you reply lazily, gripping his wrist as your eyes open slowly. He’s dressed in his Captain America suit and you can feel your heart starting to break. “Just a few more minutes.”

“I’ve delayed it as much as I can,” he tells you regretfully.

“Please,” you start to sob.

“Baby, please don’t cry.”

“I’m not not,” you sniffle, quickly drying your eyes. “It’s gonna go by quick, right? I’ll blink and you’ll be right back here with me. Like no time has passed at all.”

“Exactly,” Steve smiles mournfully, and you can see that he’s doing his best to hold back his own tears.

You pull him close and kiss him deeply, wanting to sear the moment into your heart and mind until you have him close again. “Because you promise you’re coming back, right?” you ask breathlessly once you two break apart.

“I swear it, Doll,” he promises.

You hear whimpering at the end of the bed and you know you’re not the only one with a broken heart.

“I know bud, but it’s only for a little. I’ll be back before you know it,” he sighs at Clyde, petting him and giving a small kiss on the head. “Take care of Y/N while I’m gone, okay?”

Clyde just whimpers in response before licking his palm.

“I’ve gotta go, but I promise...I swear, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Steve gives you one more kiss before rushing out, and just like that, you’re alone.

The first few days, you lie and tell yourself that it’s fine. You can handle Steve being gone, because it’s not a big deal. He’s just your boyfriend. You’ve got Clyde to keep you company and you’re staying at his place. That’s more than enough for you.

However, once you hit week two, you start to fall apart.

“Y/N, maybe you should take a break,” Isabella sighs as you try to keep yourself together.

“No, I’m fine. I’m just tired and, as you can see, little miss Frisky is being fussy,” you huff as you try to trim up her face.

“This isn’t you, Y/N. You haven’t heard anything from him?”

“Nope, and that’s fine. I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t and I get it. If you want to take a few days-”

“That’ll make it worse. Work is the only thing that keeps my mind busy.”

“What about Clyde?”

“We’re both depressed. We cry together and- WILL YOU STOP MOVING?!” you snap at Frisky.

“Okay, Jazz take over for Y/N. We’re going on break, now.”

“I can finish the dog, Iz.”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” she snaps.

You scowl but step out of the way as Jazz walks over and take Frisky, placing her at her own station as you grab your purse.

“What’s going on with you?” she questions the moment you two are outside.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me. What’s the matter?”

“You know what’s wrong.”

“Babe, you can’t stress yourself-”

“He’s on another fucking planet, Iz! You don’t think I want to just take a deep breath and calm down? I miss him so much and I just want to hear his voice. I’d honestly just settle for a text, but he can’t and I get that.”

“Why are you so sure things aren’t okay?”

“Because he’d be back by now,” you sigh, trying to fight off the tears that so desperately want to be shed.

“Babygirl, maybe it would be best-”

“I promise that it wouldn’t be best. Me alone with my thoughts right now...not a good idea.”

“Then you’ve gotta relax, Y/N.”

“I will, I promise...today is just a bad day,” you promise, wiping your eyes.

So, you try even hard to mask just how much you’re hurting. How much you’re upset and hurting. All it does is cause you to cry more on the weekends. You’re hopeful that all of the suffering is over at the end of the month, but to your dismay, he still isn’t home.

Which means, there was a battle and now it’s time for clean up.

Most nights you cry, holding Clyde close until fall asleep. Other nights, you stay up and watch movies the both of you love.

Dumbo has become a movie you know line for line.

You’re about to watch it, for what feels like the millionth time in a row, when you hear a soft knock on Steve’s door. “Hey,” Pepper smiles at you through the small crack you’ve made “I was wondering if you’d like to eat dinner with me.”

“Oh, thank you, but I’m not even dressed-”

“That’s okay! I don’t have any set dinner plans, I just thought I’d ask. I know that I’m a nervous about Tony, so I figured you might need the company as much as I do,” she laughs softly.

“Give me a few minutes to change in to something presentable and I’ll meet you up there,” you smile awkwardly.

You dig through the drawers you’ve made yours, feeling like wearing sweats isn’t appropriate for dinner with Pepper Potts-Stark, even though she just told you differently. You settle on shorts and your gray Mickey and Minnie t-shirt, before feeding Clyde the rice and chicken meal you’ve started making for him, and heading out.

When you reach the top floor, you take a deep breath, feeling more anxious than you were prepared to. The only time you’ve spent time with anyone outside of Steve is when Bucky and Nat had people over, and even that was overwhelming.

Just you and Pepper eating dinner together? That’s something you never thought would happen.

But then again, the same can be said you dating Steve.

“Welcome,”she smiles, handing you a glass of wine, stepping aside as you make our way inside. “Sorry, the place is a bit of a mess-”

“It looks amazing,” you gawk in wonder, looking at the high chandelier and the cleanest windows you’ve ever seen.

“You’re far too kind,” she laughs as she moves a few papers out of the way. “Whenever Tony is on a mission, I double down on work and forget to clean up after myself.”

“Yeah, I’ve taken on twice as many dogs since Steve’s been gone,” you chuckle.

“That’s right, you’re a dog groomer! I don’t know how that slipped my mind,” she laughs, stashing away a few blueprints.

“You have a lot going on.”

“It’s honestly been the same amount of work since I started working for Tony, I’m just a mess until he’s home and safe. Usually, Morgan is running around and being a great distraction, but she’s at a sleepover, so,” Pepper shrugs sheepishly.

“Yeah, I can completely understand that. Clyde and I just mope around all day. We both miss Steve just as much. Maybe him a little more than me, but that’s only because Clyde’s known him longer.”

“No, I’ve seen the way you and Steve look at each other. I’m sure you and Clyde miss him the same amount,” she smiles at you reassuringly. “What do you feel like having for dinner?”

“I have no idea,” you laugh “what do you have?”

“Not much.”

“You can do a lot with not much,” you encourage before making your to the kitchen.

The conversation starts to flow freely as you search around for things to cook. You decide on cheeseburgers and fries, feeling a little more at ease over not having to stress about some big to-do meal. Pepper tells you about how she never thought her life would be what it is now, and you can’t help but chuckle in agreement.

You never saw yourself being with someone like Steve. Let alone, Steve himself.

“I think this is the best cheeseburger I’ve ever had,” Pepper giggles drunkenly as you both sit on the floor, eating and sharing a bottle of wine.

“I went from not knowing how to cook a single thing to making sure I’d be able to make whatever I want. A very handy skill.”

“I’m sure Steve loves it.”

“The one time I made dinner for him and we were able to eat it together, he told me how much he loves it,” you chuckle softly.

“It’s not easy. The sitting and the waiting. The sacrificing of time so that they can have their meetings and save the world. We’re in love with superheros,” she scoffs.

“Yeah, I tried to stop it,” you sigh, taking a sip from the bottle. “At least slow it down.”

“How can you? They know what it’s like to love and lose everything, so they become all consuming. They know how precious every moment is, so they make sure to make every moment count.”

“Steve definitely does.”

“He’s going to be okay. They all are. If they can survive Thanos, twice, they can survive anything.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t, I just have to believe it, or else I’ll...”

“Or else you’ll what?”

“I’ll fall apart,” she smiles weakly. “I’ve had my fair share of scares with Tony, but I keep believing that he’ll be okay in the end, and in the end, he always is.”

“I’m still working on that part,” you chuckle humorlessly, wiping away a few tears.

“You’ll get there,” Pepper smiles reassuringly.

From that night, you do your best to not let yourself get lost in the “what if’s” and focus more on the “he’s fine”. Even when it gets to be a month and half and he still isn’t back, you tell yourself that everything is gonna be fine.

My Last Brain Cell: Take the next two weeks off.

Y/N: What? No, I’m fine.

My Last Brain Cell: You’ve been working like a mad woman for almost 2 months. Take the two weeks. You need the break.

Y/N: Iz, I’m fine.

My Last Brain Cell: This isn’t a suggestion, babe. You’re taking the two weeks.

Y/N: Fine.

You scowl as you throw your phone down, returning your attention back to the screen in front of you as you cuddle up next to Clyde in bed. At some point, you find yourself falling asleep to the sound of announcers declaring Joe Louis the winner of some boxing match. You close your eyes and miss him more than you’re comfortable with: you’re hoping that you’re one day closer to being with Steve.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep when Clyde starts barking. He’s quick to get out of bed when you hear the door unlock.

“Hey buddy, I’m home!” Steve happily tells him in a hushed tone.

You can’t stop your feet as they hit the ground running. You’re on him in an instant, jumping up and wrapping your legs around him.

“I know, baby. I know,” he coos as he holds you tight, stroking your hair as you sob into his shoulder. “I’m home baby.”

“I was so scared!”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m home now. I’m home and I will be for a while. I promise.”

“I love you, Steve. I love you so much.”

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve been dying to hear you say that,” he chuckles softly, “I love you too.”

“Wait, let me look at you. Are you okay?” you sniffle, slowly unwrapping your legs from around him and stepping back a little.

“I’m fine-”

“Oh my God! Steve!”

“It looks worse than it is, trust me. I looked worse a few days ago.”

“Steve,” you gasp, your hands going over the cuts and bruises on his arm. You don’t even wanna think about what his chest must look like.

“Baby, I’m okay. I promise. Please don’t cry,” he smiles softly.

All you can think to do is wrap him in a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you. So much, you have no idea,” he sighs, finally dropping his bag and kissing your hair.

“What can I do? What do you need? Are you hungry?”

“You don’t need to do anything,” he chuckles. “I am going to take a shower. I’ve missed showering in my own home so much.”

“Do you want me to make you something to drink or-”

“Baby, you don’t need to do anything, truly. You can join me if you want,” he calls over his shoulder as he makes his way to the bathroom.

You’re about to follow him when there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Oh, hey Bucky,” you smile as you try to ease your anxiety. “What’s up?”

“Hey, I promise I won’t keep you long, it’s just that the first night home after a mission is always the hardest for me and-”

“Seriously Buck?” a now shirtless Steve questions as he steps out of the bathroom.

“You have company now!”

“You’re practically married to Nat at this point.”

“Be that as it may, Nat is not Clyde. She’s not gonna watch scary movies with me till sunrise. Clyde will.”

“Have you ever considered getting your own pet?”

“It’s being discussed. However, until we come to a decision...?”

“One night, Buck. I mean it. I want him back in the morning.”

“How about the afternoon?”

“Buck.”

“Fine. You’ll have your precious child back by 11:30,” Bucky smiles before calling for Clyde.

“Buck-”

“You two kids have fun!” Bucky calls before running off with Clyde.

“Asshole,” Steve mutters with a slight laugh as you close the door.

“Are you sure-”

“Come here,” Steve calls softly. You can do nothing but obey.

“Steve, do you need to be looked at?” you question, softly running your fingers over the cuts and bruises that litter his body.

“I’m okay, I promise. I just wanna be with you,” he softly promises, “I just want you. I just need you.”

“You can have whatever you want from me,” you promise as you look up to meet his gaze.

Steve’s kiss is deep and intense, his hold on you tightening as he leads you both into the bathroom.

“You’ve been sleeping in my clothes the entire time I’ve been gone?” he smirks as you two break apart, starting to undo his pants.

“Maybe,” you giggle, pulling his shirt over your head. “It’s the only way I could keep you close.”

“You are so beautiful,” he marvels softly as his hands trace over your bare chest.

In that moment, you realize just how bare you are. You realize that Steve has never seen you naked and you instantly turn away. “I didn’t know when you’d be home, so I-”

“Stop it. You are gorgeous and I...how did I get so lucky? How are you mine?”

“Steve-”

“I’ve told you that I love you, but now I wanna show you just how much,” he states before crashing his lips into yours.

Steve’s arms snake around your waist as he leads you into the shower. He turns on the water and you both gasp as he turns on the shower-head. Its assaulting cold water pelts you both as you work to get his pants undone, forcing them down the best you can as the water quickly heats up.

“I thought about having you like this so much,” he groans, stepping out of his pants before kissing down your body.

“Steve...Steve please,” you beg mindlessly as you start clawing at the wall.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mutters before licking your clit softly as he hooks your left leg over his shoulder. “So perfect and all mine,” he moans before thrusting two fingers inside you.

“Fuck!” you gasp as your back arches.

“I missed you so much, baby,” he coos as he looks up at the wordless mess you’ve become for him. “I want you to know just how much I’ve missed you.”

“Steve!” you cry out as he licks and sucks on your clit, “If you keep using your tongue like...fuck! I’m so close!” you whimper, your toes curling.

Steve pays you the kindness of adding a third finger as you cry out in pleasure. You try to pace yourself but it’s no use since Steve only seems to pick up the pace. The sound of water falling around the both of you does nothing to mask the lewd sounds he’s making between your legs, or the pornographic moans escaping your lips that only encourage him.

“Fu...fuck! Right there! That’s it!” you practically scream as you come apart for him, grinding your pussy against his face, his beard a welcome comfort as you try to live in the moment for as long as possible.

You do your best to calm down as you try to regulate your breathing, but Steve doesn’t stop his bombardment. You feel as if you’re being made whole while your body falls apart.

“Baby...oh fuck me, please!” you moan as he continues to clean up the mess between your legs.

“I swear I’m gonna eat this fucking pussy all week,” he grunts, finally looking up at the pathetic mess you’ve become for him. “You taste this good and made me wait?”

“I’m sorry,” you pant, gripping his shoulders as you try and steady yourself.

“Oh, you will be,” he smirks before kissing his way up your body.

“Got off to the thought of you having me like this so many times,” you whimper, loving the way his tongue envelops your right nipple as his hand massages the left. “Never knew being loved could feel so fucking good!”

“I’m gonna show you just how good it feels time and time again,” he husks before kissing the rest of the way up your body. “Because you’re mine, right?” he questions as he pins you against the shower wall, gripping both your thighs and forcing your legs around his waist. You can’t help but get more excited as he becomes dominant.

“Yes,” you moan, grinding your clit against his pelvis as you desperately try to relieve some of the friction between your legs. “I’m all yours!”

“So good for me,” he husks as he thrusts himself inside of you. “So fucking good and beautiful!”

“Fuck!” you cry out in pleasure, your nails digging to his back. “Fu...fuck Steve!”

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispers hotly against your chest. “I hate being away from you!”

“I...I missed you too, baby! Fuck, that’s it!” you mewl as he starts hitting the spot deep within you that has the knot in your core tightening.

“You look so beautiful all fucked out on my cock,” he taunts as your toes curl. “So much better than I ever imagined.”

“Jesus, Steve!”

“I’m gonna make love to you in every inch of this apartment, until you’re spent!” he promises as his thrusts start coming harder and faster.

“You feel so fucking good! Please don’t stop!” you pathetically beg, your release coming on.

“Cum for me, baby! I wanna see you fall apart for me!”

“Shit!” you cry out, cumming hard as you grip him tight.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praises, turning off the water.

You give yourself a moment to recover from your high before you dip down and kiss him deeply, slowly starting to grind your hips against him. Steve moans in satisfaction, his hold on you tightening as he starts to walk towards the bedroom.

“I love you so much,” you moan against his lips as you two break apart. “So happy to have you back and all mine.” ”I love you, baby. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you. I’m never gonna stop,” he promises softly as he sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at you with love and adoration in his. “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Just wanna make you feel good, baby,” you moan, gently pushing him back. “Will you let me do that?”

“I let you do anything you want, babygirl,” he groans as you start to ride him.

You place your hands on either side of his chest, picking up your pace a little as his hands explore your body. You let out a silent sob as Steve’s hands grip your ass tightly before slapping it, lulling your head back as you get lost in the euphoric pleasure he’s only ever made you feel.

“You look so fucking good when you ride me,” he husks, and you can tell by the strain in his voice that he’s fighting off his own release.

“Give it to me, baby. Cum deep in this pussy,” you beg, looking down at him as your hair falls in front of your face. “I need you to fill me up.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, cupping your face. “Don’t wanna disappoint you-”

“You could never, baby. The way you stretch and fill me? You could never...baby, I’m so close,” you whimper as you grip the sheets tight.

“Are you gonna cum for Daddy?”

“Fuck, yes! I’ll do whatever you want me to, Daddy! Please, please!” you beg as you clench around him. “Please fill me up!”

“Fuck!” he shouts, shooting his load into you, his grip on your right hip pleasurably painful.

“Shit!” you yell, trying to ride out both of your orgasms as you brace yourself against him. “Fuck!”

You both take a moment to come down from your highs, trying to regulate your breathing as you lean your forehead against his. Your right hand cups the side of his face before kissing him deeply.

“You’re so fucking good to me,” he chuckles softly as you pull away. “How did I get so lucky?”

“How did I get so lucky,” you giggle softly before groaning in dissatisfaction as you slowly climb off of him. “How are you all mine?” you smile, laying next to him and pulling him close.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Steve.”

“Should’ve started dropping Clyde off at his groomer’s sooner.”

“You better keep up on dropping him off,” you giggle. “His paws of attraction-”

“Paws of attraction?”

“Ya know, he only loves me because his owner loves me. By default, paws of attraction; he has no choice but to love me.”

“You’re kinda crazy, you know that?” he questions as you laugh.

“And I’ll never change.”

“I don’t want you to,” he smiles as he pulls you close and kisses your forehead. “I want you to stay just as you are, forever. I love you.”

“I love you, forever and ever,” you promise as you snuggle up close to him. “I’m so happy we found each other.”

“Me too, now, just don’t ever leave.”

“I promise, I’ll stay right here,” you giggle, kissing his chest.

Feeling more comfortable in his arms and safer than you’ve ever felt anywhere else, you settle in and let yourself drift off. As you start to fade out of consciousness, you know that Steve is your beginning and end. The love you’ve been searching for, for forever, is finally yours to stay. You fall asleep knowing that you’ll never need or want for anything again. As long as you have Steve, you have everything you’ll ever need. That’s everything.

Steve is more than enough forever.

~~

taglist: @fuckingbye​, @maroonsunrise83​, @whxre4cevans​, @sweetflowerdreams​

#Steve Rogers #Captain America #Captain America AU #Captain Rogers #Steven Grant Rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x f!reader #Steve Rogers x Female Reader #Marvel AU #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #Steve Rogers Fluff #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #fan fic smut #Fan Fic Fluff #Marvel Universe #Marvel

[youknowmymethods]

Content Creator Interview #12

Tissues at the ready, because, sniff sniff, this is the last post in the current series. And we’re ending with me, @ohaine, putting questions to one of my favourite people in the whole world, @likingthistoomuch, who answers questions about her secret squish, how culture and language influence her writing, and why her eyeball occasionally rolls under the bed.

If you’ve been in the Sherlolly corner of the fandom for any length of time at all you’ll already know that likingthistoomuch is funny, sweet and not afraid to say what she thinks. What you may not know is that she’s one of the kindest, wisest people that you’ll ever meet. She’s a beautiful person, a wonderful friend, a bit crazy, a bit sarcastic, and now, by public vote (well, I voted for it), an honorary Irish cailín dána. As if all of those things weren’t enough she’s a damn fine writer too. Want me to prove it? 

Molly looked surprised but followed his lead. They moved to the silent tune being played in his head, upping their tempo as the notes seemed to flow fast and with certainty until they reached a crescendo and slowly seemed to fall as leaves in autumn, leaving a wonderful silence in their wake.

“There’s no silence when I’m around you. It’s music. And its beautiful.”

The simplest symphony, one of her sixty two stories, is one of my all time favourites, and I was so happy to get the chance over Christmas 2018 to pick her brain about where these beautiful words come from.

OhAine: I’m always impressed by the gentle way you treat your words, and I’ve often wondered is that because English is a second language for you?

Likingthistoomuch: I am always surprised when reviewers say that because I honestly just blurt it all out. There is no deliberate attempt to make the words the way they are. And English, though it may seem like my second language, is in a way my first because my entire education has been in English. (I just may be more fluent in it than the local languages but that’s a discussion between my mum and me that you really don’t want to know.) The only real barriers are when it comes to the British way of putting words. Because we are so exposed to American TV, that’s the language that forms immediately in my mind. But it’s getting better, because nowadays it’s all British TV for me! (GoT is worldwide and based in Westeros so it’s not American ok!)

 OhAine:  Brit-picking you mean? Nothing will throw me out of a Sherlock story faster than reading something that just shouldn’t be there, so how do you get around it?  

 Likingthistoomuch: I (le gasp!!) ask people like you and Emma Lynch but mostly I just bulldoze ahead. (My muse lasts less than the winter here so I need to move it quickly.)

 OhAine: And is it that love of film/TV/stories that inspired you to write in the first place, or are you a life-long writer? What was the very first moment that you thought to yourself; I can do that?

 Likingthistoomuch: I would call myself the Accidental Writer (I can almost hear the play-writes scribbling that title down...royalties people!!!). I wanted to read a story with a certain story line, and the then regular prompt takers were all busy. @writingwife-83 was the one who suggested that I try writing the fic on my own, she said, “Why don’t you just give it a go!” And I did. The result, Moving with time, didn’t seem to be too bad considering. Of course I get the cringe moment when I read it now, but that’s what started the ball rolling!

 OhAine: This seems like a really apt moment to slip in a reader question submitted by @writingwife-83. She asked; How does writing inspiration tend to strike for you? Does it hit you out of the blue or does it come from something more external? 

Likingthistoomuch: It’s literally a hit from out of the blue! It can be a movie or a song or recollection of a scene, literally anything. That is exactly why my post-TFP took so long to finish, the story (Our love has a way about it) was just not getting through!! So I look at admiration when writers take on a prompt and expand it into stories. My mind’s inbox is full of Asks, waiting for the brain to acknowledge and work on it :).

 OhAine: When I looked at your sixty two stories as a body, it occurred to me that there are two types of stories that you excel at; Victorian!lock, and short scenes—

 Likingthistoomuch: Ooh thank you.

 OhAine: No, genuinely, no smoke blowing here LOL. I think you have a real affinity for Victorian Sherlock. So, how do you get into the mind set and what about that era particularly inspires you?

 Likingthistoomuch: The mind-set isn’t much of an imaginative journey. We Indians have a saying, "The English left India but left their bastard behind." This refers to the narrow minded, sexist mind-set that was highly followed during Victorian times, remnants of which we are still fighting to get rid of here. Not blaming it all on the English, we have been pretty inventive with our own original regressive thought process too. So for the social mind-set and fic setting, all I need is to look out the window. 

I love putting Molly and Sherlock in that era because on some front, both of them epitomise "not all heroes wear capes". She is trying to reach for opportunities that are denied to her just because of her gender and he is seen as the almost vulgar, rude and insensitive soul who is ready to judge people on their merits alone...(oh how dare he!!) It’s a personal favourite to put them in an era where they do struggle and fight but eventually it always work towards what they want, and of course, they get it via some unrelenting angst but hey what’s the fun if it’s all bubble gum. (It’s almost my inner romantic peeping out but don’t you dare tell anyone about it, I have a reputation to keep!)

 OhAine: I can kind of relate to that – and this is something I put to @hobbitsdoitbetter too, because she writes Victorian era Sherlolly so brilliantly as well – I often think of Molly in the Victorian works as being like Irish women of the last generation who took their small victories where they found them.

 Likingthistoomuch: True, unfortunately every geography and people has a similar story to tell. Things are changing but this change has yet to reach the grassroots levels.

 OhAine: We can’t talk about your Victorian!lock without mentioning With eyes shut tight, where you did a very interesting thing when you switched to John’s voice in a very ACD way. What inspired that? How did you find John’s voice?

Likingthistoomuch: I actually found John's character (and Martin's fabulous portrayal) in TAB to be very interesting. Here is a man who can see what’s correct, will support it but is also so short sighted that he doesn’t realise that in supporting the women's struggle elsewhere he is ignoring the struggle going on in his own home. So there was the empathy for Molly not getting her due treatment as Sherlock's wife balanced by the outrage at her wanting to follow her own heart. Martin's performance in TAB is my favourite of the special and it was fun to try and bring in his voice, the sarcasm battling the disbelief. I had great fun doing it :)

 OhAine: I have this theory that you have a secret squish on John, am I right?

 Likingthistoomuch: You mean crush? I absolutely adore the boots off Martin Freeman, his performance is exquisite. I know we all look in awe at Ben's work, but for me, performance wise Martin takes the cake.

As for John...you know Sherlock puts on a veil of indifference to hide that he feels so much. I think for John it’s the opposite. He thinks he feels a lot and understands it all, but he too is hiding the inner struggling man. That’s why the TLD exchange between these two, (S: Underneath all we may just be human. J:You too? S: No, you too) is so profound. Just as Sherlock found in John a partner, John did too. It’s just that Sherlock accepts that he needs John, John is too blind to understand that he needs Sherlock too. That is one man who has his emotions so cross wired and tangled, it’s a very interesting character. And the thing is I feel Sherlock understands that and hangs on to John, not looking at it as a weakness. John, if he ever introspects, will find his dependency on Sherlock as a weakness. It’s basically asking Sherlock to do something, which he himself would not apply. 

And Martin adds a different layer each time he plays him.

 OhAine: One of my favourites of yours is a short story (<1,000 words), New paths. There’s a very calm, meditative feeling to the story: could you tell me a bit about your inspiration?

 Likingthistoomuch: So, couple of years back we made a trip to England, and had visited Filey, near Scarborough in Yorkshire. After a long drive from London, we arrived and realised that there was a view of this cliff face from our cottage. And while my city bred, urban self gawked at the lovely site, the cloud thing happened and the hills actually turned pink. In that moment, it went all quiet and I literally felt the tiredness from my long journey seep away. And it’s only nature that can do that magic.

While writing New Paths, I wanted to see things from Molly's perspective. Do I feel she broke down and cried buckets and ate two tubs of ice cream? Maybe, but I don’t think so. I think she just felt tired and also at the same time, like a huge weight was off her back. And sometimes, what you need for your soul to just feel even a little better is a few moments away from humanity. Not necessarily to forget things, but more like to recharge your batteries and get the energy to deal with things in a better way. So I made her experience what I did that evening. I made her experience the sea, the beautiful colours that nature shows and just heal her tired heart a little. God knows she needed it.

 OhAine: Misty silhouettes is a unique story, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one quite like it before. Can you tell me about how it came to you and what are the challenges of writing Sherlock and Molly through so many lives?

 Likingthistoomuch: Misty came about because of Mirrors, a short one I wrote on my phone, half asleep and trying to get rid of an ear (brain?) worm. Kiki had loved it and encouraged me to expand on it, which I attempted to do. I think I had just recently watched a historic Indian movie and was highly impressed with the battle scene, hence the opening sequence. I thought; why not work through time as well as geography, bringing these two closer and closer, like they showed in the short Sherlock episode before S3, where Anderson comments Sherlock is coming home? So they start in ancient India, and then slowly weave geographically as well as chronologically towards their current destination, London. 

The challenges were to keep the story along the same theme as Mirrors, so trying to find characters, stories and their ending as well as the transition into the next life was some work. In short, I feel I have exhausted my small quota of creative imagination where the story stands right now, on the cusp of the last chapter where Sherlock is now in current time. It is definitely NOT abandoned; I have at least formulated ten stories and discarded them all because after such a long journey, Molly and Sherlock deserve a good reunion. And I trust myself to write it one day. Because that right end WILL come, I am sure of it.

 OhAine: Have you found that end yet?

 Likingthistoomuch: I may have! I have just started on that path, praying I stay on it.

 OhAine: What does your proofreading and editing process look like?

 Likingthistoomuch: Going through the document three times, checking for typos. Posting the fic, finding those three escaped typos and correcting them. Finding typos the more times I read a story. Yes, that’s the process. Elegant, no?

 OhAine: Super elegant, LOL!!! You would rather do it yourself than press a beta into service? Or do you find working with someone else restrictive?

Likingthistoomuch: I think it may just be because I am such an impatient writer. I have loads and loads of ideas but putting them on paper takes a lot out of me. So once it’s there, I can’t wait to get it published and for you guys to see (and maybe get a few reviews too.)

I am learning. I do at times ask for help to oversee the plot and the work and it’s worth waiting.

OhAine: But you work without a beta most of the time… Is that a deliberate choice, or something that’s just evolved?

 Likingthistoomuch:  Actually, that’s just how it evolved. My first impression of a beta was someone who would do a read through and call out my typos and grammatical mistakes. Then it dawned that I could ask about the story line and if / how/ will it work. The advantage of working with someone is that you might get a better way of putting your story forward, get help when you are stuck. Or they’ll help you understand character’s motives and inspirations even more, which was a fantastic new experience for me. On the downside you could end up telling someone else's story.

 OhAine: I think that’s a great point; you can end up telling someone else’s story, and it sort of has me reflecting that I’ve done that when I was very new to writing. Has it ever happened – even in relation to reader input – to you?

 Likingthistoomuch: Actually no. But that’s also because almost 95% of my fics are one-shots. As for inspiring something new, only Kiki's advice at expanding Mirrors was an exception. The rest...? I am a free bird!!

  OhAine: I’ve seen it argued lately that sites like tumblr stifle creativity and can lead your writing in directions you wouldn’t have otherwise taken it. What’s your take on that?

 Likingthistoomuch: Oh good question! The social policing at times can inhibit your writing and introduce undue caution at best or a total change of direction of the story at worse. It’s something that every writer has to take a call on, and finally write a story that he or she wants to tell. Because, at least for me, I know when I have written something good, and maybe not many would like it. But it’s the story I want to tell, and if I am not able to do that, no matter how many accolades I get, there would always be a feeling of dissatisfaction bubbling beneath the surface. I may just not share my work next time, and that would even further piss me off :D So not a good cycle to get into. I would encourage writers to take pride in their creation and own it like a boss. Your words indeed are your baby!

 OhAine: Does that mean that social media has been a stimulator more than a damper of creativity for you?

 Likingthistoomuch: So far I have had a relationship with social media where I have been able to distance myself if there indeed is shit happening. Which, if you have been on tumblr long enough, you know is pretty frequent. I keep to my lane, and I expect you to do the same. So far it has been a stimulator, and the few moments where it could’ve been a dampener, I was able to remind myself that’s it’s all virtual and imaginary and I have a real life outside, and hence was able to ignore the shit.

I have a very simple mantra, you no like, you unfollow or block or ignore. I will survive, indeed thrive, in your absence....if I notice your absence in the first place.

 OhAine: The thing that puts me off social media is the combative purity culture that seems to be so prevalent now.

 Likingthistoomuch: *roll my eyes so hard am still looking for my right eyeball that rolled under the bed, the bugger* All I can say is, real life is tough as nails, Social Media should be a platform to release some steam, not to order or bully people around. Again, instead of telling people what to do, what to post it would be better if the Social Police (aka Staff) got their act together and BLOODY ADDRESSED THE PORN BOTS. (I got 5 new followers yesterday and no prizes for guess what they are.)

Also, as a blogger, it’s not MY responsibility to ensure that YOUR children and young people see clean content. There are tags and blocks meant for filtering NSFW stuff. I came to your free site because I thought I could post/follow the stuff I want. And people will always find a way to find 'blocked' content. It’s called Google.

 OhAine: And a few quick fire questions to wrap it up. Starting with: how do you find your titles? 

 Likingthistoomuch: Like literally throwing a net out there and hoping the words caught make sense. Sometimes it’s just *snap* and you have your title, sometimes it takes time. I always hope the story inspires the heading but that rarely happens. Except for my post TFP, Our love has a way about it. That was purely the after effect of finishing chapter 1 that I had been trying for months.

 OhAine: How do you gauge the success of a story? What’s the metric you live by?

Likingthistoomuch: Reviews! Comments! God, I love them. But honestly, sometimes it’s more about being happy myself and putting an honest effort on the paper. I feel the best when I know the job I have done is a good, genuine one, like for Our love has a way about it.  It’s a lovely feeling and very few things can replace that knowledge of a job well done.

OhAine: Do you find writing is an outlet for real life pressure?

 Likingthistoomuch: Not really. How can I say this, it adds a bit of colour? Like people who art! Writing makes me feel good, that I can do things that may not have a tangible benefit for anyone but it is a big achievement for me. And since not many know that I write, it’s a very personal feeling, a fight to the finish with myself. 

 I had a great time addressing all these questions, Áine. I am surprised that the answers aren’t one worded, as I half expected them to be. Caught me in a chatty moment I should say :) This has been a wonderful exercise, and dare I say, a wonderful initiative. Kudos to you for coming up with this. 

OhAine: Aww, thanks Gee, you’re such a sweetie :) It’s been great fun, but I’ll be glad to get Friday afternoons back to normal!!

So guys, that’s it for now. I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who read, followed, re-blogged, liked, left comments, and supported this project, none of which would have been possible without the oh-so many lovely writers and interviewers who gave up their their time to participate, and who so kindly shared their fandom and writing experiences. Thank you all so, so much ♥

#content creator interviews #Sherlock #sherlolly #likingthistoomuch #ohaine

[kinktae]

Dear 2018,

warning: up ahead is a long ass post with mentions of anxiety, depression, infidelity, death, very specific events that might seem silly to you but really fucked me up, optimism, and copious amounts of personification.

You were cruel.

My dad gave my dog away without telling me and while I took a nap of all things for reasons that made no sense at the moment but would soon reveal themselves as the year unfolded. My dog was my best friend and longtime confidant. I was the annoying dog owner who snapchatting their dog every day. He was my first hug when I had a bad day and my last goodnight every night as I headed off to bed. I don’t know where he is now because my father won’t tell me but 2018, you left me so incredibly hurt by my parents that I couldn’t bring myself to speak to them for two weeks.

But I learned to cope.

In the days that followed, I wrote a 20k long story. I was crying and sad and didn’t know what else to do. I spent three days writing that story, sleeping on the couch because I didn’t want to walk into my room only to see that my dog wasn’t waiting by my bed. A story I wrote could never replace seven years of companionship but it gave me something tangible to hold onto when I found myself unable to turn to my family. Camellia, the story, holds a special place in my heart because it isn’t often that from such sadness tumbles out a love story.

You were cruel.

2018 took the life of the boy I have admired and blushed over since I was eleven. He was the kind of kid who had every reason to be an asshole with how good looking and widely popular he was but... he wasn’t. He was polite and genuinely smart and loved basketball. I mean loved it. It was funny back then but in my senior year when we were asked to write poems, he chose to write it about his basketball and his team. We all cheered him on at the end of it as he slipped back into his seat in the back, a happy grin on his face. I remember how hot my face got when he let me interview him for a school project and how nice he was to me because he knew I was nervous. When I graduated, he was the one person that I was looking forward to seeing at our high school reunion. I wanted to know where he’d end up in life. I never thought that his life would come to an end.

So I took some time to reflect.

I left Tumblr for quite a bit. It’s a hard thing to understand when someone so young dies suddenly and needlessly. It was larger than just my feelings. It was as if my entire town fell silent. 2018, you left behind his family and an entire community in pain and mourning. He was not mine to mourn as a lover nor really as a friend but I mourned him as a long time classmate who put far greater good into the world than he ever did bad. I hurt for his family, his girlfriend, his friends— my friends —who knew him well and will never get closure or answers to his death because there are none. I hope heaven has a basketball court.

You were cruel.

One of your Saturday nights was when my mom walked by our guest bedroom and overheard her husband on the phone with his girlfriend of a year. It was the reason why my dad got rid of my dog and was trying so desperately to sell our house. He was trying to move us into an apartment just so that he could leave my mom and me in it. He stood in front of my mom silently as she broke down two days later and told him that she knew about his girlfriend. I knew his girlfriend, I had been to her house; she had 3 kids and a husband. My dad left my family for another family, for another country, and as much as that hurt, nothing hurt more than holding my crying mother in my arms every night because she came to the United States alone and I was all she had now. My father took everything in the house, leaving us with one bed and a couch. He said he would take care of us but the fact that he took two beds when he only needed one should’ve been a warning sign enough. He cut my mother’s salary and belittles her at work. He keeps coming over to our house and making my mother cry. He never gave her space to heal and still isn’t. I had to make nice though because he was always the provider and I relied on him financially. He cut my brother from his will and my mother feared he’d do the same to me.

But my family understood.

I thought with my father living elsewhere, I wouldn’t see my family anymore. He was the one who always drove me down to every family gathering, and now I could hardly look him in the eyes. To my surprise, even though he was very much the head of my family, they all reach out to me and my mother, offering their condolences. It was nice to know that I wasn’t a terrible daughter for not wanting to see my father, it was nice knowing his family understood. He was a great provider but cruel, emotionally detached parent and I struggled with the guilt of not mourning his absence in the house. My family helped me realize that my priority should be myself and my mother and I am so grateful for them.

You were cruel.

You were anxiety. Crippling, unimaginable anxiety. You were a panic attack one Monday morning alone in my house as I realized how empty but suffocating my home had become. 2018 was sitting down in class, only to rush out the moment I realized I had forgotten another assignment, crying in the school bathrooms because I knew I was falling behind. I pretended like everything was fine. I didn’t ask for help. I was ashamed to. My mother didn’t have friends because of the type of person my father was and she needed one. So I became her friend, despite the fact that I am just a daughter. I comforted and listened to her. I read her divorce papers for her because my English was better than hers and I knew my father was going to try and fuck her over. My mother was behind every happy memory I had so I owed her this much. Eventually, I just stopped going to school, too anxious to even leave my neighborhood. I would wave my mother goodbye and hop into my car like I was off to university but really I just park somewhere in my neighborhood and hated myself. God how I hated myself.

But my friends were kind.

Early on in the year, 2018 brought me, friends. Friends that would last throughout the year despite the fact that I pushed them away and isolated myself. People like @httpjeon, who would become my number one confidant and best fucking friend along with @introseesaw @junqkook, who never questioned why I had to leave the group chat and disappear for days. People like @timeline-comics, who is so patient and understanding and inspires me. People like @kittae @gukyi @jeongukk who probably didn’t know how much just talking to them made me feel sane and safe. As much as 2018 took away, it also gave me such wonderful people when I needed them the most and I am grateful beyond words. Even when my mother was in the midst of heartbreak, divorce and reliving childhood trauma, she still eventually found me, as most mothers do when they’re children become lost. She offered me love and support like she has done with every breath she has ever taken and told me it was okay to ask for help. I wasn’t invincible, no one was. It was only with others that we could grow stronger.

You were cruel.

I did poorly this semester. I knew I would. But it was severe enough that my university noticed and suspended me from the upcoming term. They told me to come back in the summer and offered me the number to their counseling services. My father didn’t understand how this could have happened, or maybe he didn’t want to understand, so he cut me off financially and called me names that I’m still trying to convince myself aren’t true.

But I had you all.

In the worst year of my life, 2018 brought me a community of people who love and support my work despite how flaky I am putting it out. It brought me a platform where I can express myself creatively and unapologetically. 2018 brought me you guys, my readers— my people. It brought me anons who made my entire day in 200 words or less. It brought me people who reblogged my posts with funny tags that, as corny as it sounds, made the world feel less heavy, even if it was just for a moment. I know that you guys are a blessing. This blog is one of the best things that’s happened to me. It’s my happy place and I am so beyond grateful for you all.

And finally. There is one thing left to say.

2018, I forgive you.

You were cruel, confusing and painful and as much as you set me back, I am going to use you to propel me forward in 2019. It was in your darkness that I realized just how wonderful every speck of light truly feels. Because of you, I am going to fight for happiness and work on loving myself again as BTS has been telling me to do all year because you have given me a reason to finally need to more than ever.

Dear 2019,

Treat me gently. Greet me with kindness. Because if you don’t, I will bend you to my will because, dammit, I deserve happiness. I deserve comfort. I deserve 2019. I will get a job and maintain myself. I will attend counseling and work on fixing myself. I will love myself loudly and write until my fucking fingers fall off. I will go back to school in summer and look forward to learning because it’s what I love; I know now more than ever that it’s a privilege to get to go to school. I will ask for help when I need it and offer it when it’s needed. And I will never stop supporting those who supported me in 2018.

To those who were also hurt by 2018, just know that you walk into the new year cautiously right alongside me and it’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to heal. It’s okay to prioritize yourself. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to not be okay. Because even today is cruel, there is always a chance that tomorrow will be kind and that’s a chance worth fighting for.

Sincerely, Rose 🌹

#personal #OOF #there she is #this is very much a venting post so sorry if it's preachy or annoying or whatever #I really wanted to follow up every bad thing with a good thing and force myself to findthe good within the year #no matter how blinding the bad #thank u to those who encouraged me to post this ily and if helps anyone then that make this embarrassingly personal post worth posting <3 #feel free to ignore if these kinds of things make u uncomfyyyyy :D

[readingthelastpage]

Tay is still playing the game: it is too soon to do this yet

hate to be the bearer of bad news

warning: this is a looooong analysis of the Gaylor fandom, the Rep era and the new era.

so us Gaylors were kinda enamoured with the queer context of the beginning of the Rep era. she dropped a few tunes that had people who used to believe her man-crazy reputation googling Karlie Kloss, wrote a nice little declaration about how everyone looking for specific men in her new songs is wrong, changed from outfits designed for the male gaze into something more comfortable and had a British unknown with a wonky relationship timeline as the public muse of the album. All is well, we thought - she is literally burning her Reputation, she will let people come to their own conclusions, she will take the money, they will both ditch the boyfriends and come out.

And hey, maybe that was the planned narrative in the beginning. But both boyfriends are still here, and one has been updated into a husband (with two separate highly publicised wedding parties). Now the new narrative is that Taylor will let people figure out things more and more - which is inextricably linked to Karlie, whose boyfriend wanted the “het card” so bad that he has to marry Karlie twice before she is released. They all want to erase Kaylor so deeply that they have to spend years in these new golden cages, but at the same time, Karlie will not even block instagram comments that call out her marriage as fake and Taylor will not stop people from writing articles about her that keep referencing Karlie. Maybe their strategy really is to lay low in public for years while building full separate lives but still be linked even in places that they have full control over, but then I don’t think it really is a good strategy. I think the more likely thing is that we overestimated the honesty of the Rep era and the extent to which is was another performance.

Of course people acknowledge it was a performance. Everyone in this fandom acknowledges that it’s good business sense to stay in the closet and maximize your fanbase before you cut the cord. But then, I argue, Reputation was playing the game on hard mode, it was a bit of a flop (sorry!), she switched gears and started contemplating the next era very fast, and we are probably about to get another performance, another continuance of the game, with things being concealed from us just like they were in the previous era. Everyone always wants that candid, natural era from Taylor and we were so smug thinking we were the only ones getting it.

Let’s walk back a little. Taylor always, always responds to criticism. They doubted her songwriting credentials, so she wrote an album solo. They called her a sugary country princess so she lost the accent, wrote a few pop anthems for Red, just for kicks, and did highly glam performances of them with no guitar in sight. They called her conservative and unfeminist so for the next album she debuted a glam squad and her public narrative was about friendship, her against the world, her against the haters who don’t want her to write about her feelings. She wrote Blank Space as an indictment of her public image (and, as Gaylors have probably correctly read, the narrative she pulls transparently with all public boyfriends), and people freaking loved it, and part of the reason why she keeps referencing it even into the Lover era is because she has never been so loved and lauded. But make no mistake, I’ve been on Tumblr since 2010 and people wrote first posts about how they shouldn’t be called out for liking Taylor Swift long before Taylor Swift started writing about being called out for BEING Taylor Swift. She has always responded to what we want to hear. Yes, her art is for herself as well as for others but Taylor wants to be an iconic popstar. Art is just a part of being an iconic popstar.

Flash back to the Rep era. The media was bad, so they get nothing. People were mean and used things on her social media, boom, wiped. There is no explanation, just Reputation. The sound is dark and she’s an edgy princess and she admits her faults and candidly writes all about a broad-shouldered love that helps her hold on - but no juicy details and pap pics. Looks like an abject refusal to play the game. But if you look again, it just looks like a response to all the criticism. Taylor, stop calling all your friends and the paps every time you go out to get milk - fine, you get next to zero pics. Taylor, stop exploiting your dating life for fame and having pictures taken every time you fly a jet to a famous boyfriend to sit on his lap - fine, I’m dating an unknown, we only hold hands, and I have broken up with two boyfriends in the meantime but will only write one relationship narrative song for both of them. Taylor, don’t play the victim when we know you’re a powerful popstar who plays the feud game sometimes - Look At How You Made Me Do Something Bad. The old Taylor you hated is dead - the new Taylor is both edgy enough to kill her and conscious enough to write this line making fun of herself. And those are not the only lines where she’s sarcastic and high drama either.

She Did All Of That, created some iconic imagery, and pretty soon she was able to see that it wasn’t really landing the way 1989 did. She gambled everything on a carefully planned (but still abbreviated) tour, won the gamble, landed on her feet, pulled some other cool artistic and political moves, got bolder with the wlw messages... but she started conceptualizing the next era very early on, at least visually, and we keep getting visual proof of that. I think Taylor wanted to reframe who she was even back in 2018, as abbreviated as the era was it was a long time to keep playing the snake Taylor character. It was the last album she wouldn’t own full rights to. I also think that it was a long time to keep portraying a cohesive narrative that wasn’t really all that true anymore. I think Karlie and her broke up for good around the time of the release, and had some serious arguments probably around the time Taylor disappeared, but even if you don’t and think they are still together, one can argue that Rep didn’t have a lot of space for all the angst Taylor was feeling. People say there’s even too many songs about how she got cancelled - but they mostly focus on the media and the Kardashians, with some shoutouts to false friends, and all quickly erased by “I have a hot partner so F U”. There’s not a lot about the pain you feel when you get rejected like that, including by your own fans, not a lot about fears for her career, not a lot about other things we know she went through, like being stalked and her mom’s cancer. Rep conceals as much as it reveals, and she probably wanted to write about these emotions as soon as she processed them a little better - hence the “really sad songs” we will hear on Lover.

One of the reasons why Rep just didn’t land is because “pop is dead” and people look elsewhere but the big pure pop girls for popular music. Every big pop girls latest era is either years away in the past or her most recent phase is an experimental or edgy one. The new sounds flirt with rap and trap, productions are minimal. Taylor’s Rep phase is also a part of that. The big girls try to play the game, but no one wants to hear Katy or Taylor doing Lorde, people want to hear new artists. Even Ariana, an old school maximalist who only barely adapted to this new era by being close to r’n’b from the start, is wearing a cute minimal uniform, writing in low caps and putting out trap-inspired songs. But the pop press has been talking about being bored of it for a long time. I think Taylor is seeing this opportunity for the tide to turn, has seen it since 2018, wants to be ahead of the curve and will put out a colorful maxi pop album about unabashed positivity, being who you are and celebrating others being who they are (ME!, as a first single of this era, blatantly points in this direction, just like every other Taylor first single pointed at the rest of the era), fighting for what’s right, processing your unhealthy feelings.

But will she come out? I don’t know, because this is still playing the game - it’s just that the game and the cultural moment aligns with what Taylor wants to write right now. Listen, I’m an older millenial just like Taylor and I am tired of edgy characters, dark spaces and the color gray. Maybe she is too. Maybe this time we’re getting full radical honesty from her. But it is likely that it’s not, and that it’s too soon to unleash everything that Taylor is into the world. Get ready for that possibility as well. Maybe the rainbow messaging will only remain as what it is right now - activism for others, and a little wink.

#gaylor swift

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Love Potion Extravaganza Bonus

Thanks as always to @pizzansunshine for editing what I promise to be the final of the love potion extravaganza. As I said before, I wanted to include the sirenas. And thanks to Crazy Ex Gf releasing one last song on love, it inspired me to write this. As you can guess from the song, Love is not a game https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=G9VnIL33TvI There is plenty of bets. Hope y’all enjoy. 

Marisa ran to the post office of Buena Vista, waving frantically to the elderly post man who was shifting through his bag, “Hi! Hello! Is there anything for us? It would be in a royal document sealed with the Avaloran crest and-” 

“Sí Princesa, I know what document you are waiting for. You have been stopping by every morning and afternoon to see if it has arrived.” The postman said smoothing his grey mustache in a torturously slow fashion instead of looking at his letters for a document for her.

“Well?” Marisa asked eagerly, clasping her hands together in an effort to keep from grabbing his bag and looking through the letters herself.

“No, no letters this morning from the central area. Try again in the afternoon.” The postman shrugged, “Oh but here are the postcards you wanted.”

He handed three blank postcards with dazzling images of Cariza, Tir ná Nög and Brazendale. 

How she would love to visit! 

Ever since the peace treaty was signed between the Avalorans and the Sirenas and the subsequent Royal Retreat Marzel attended, her parents had become more open to the idea of travelling around to another sea and visiting. So Marisa started planning the trip by asking the postman for postcards of other kingdoms so they would get to see what they looked like today. Mom had told them stories of what they were like when she was young but she had only heard rumors of what they were like, she had mainly resided in Avalor when she was human and only visited Cordóba once.

From the postcards she had so far, Marisa was more partial to visiting Napurna it looked gorgeous with the image of the Salt Sea and Marzel had said King Raj was a very bubbly fellow to be with.

But despite the postcards, it didn’t make up for the loss of curiosity and excitement she had for the Avaloran’s upcoming letter.

Elena had had a trade meeting recently between Paraíso and Cordóba that almost ended in chaos thanks to Carla Delgado setting off a love potion through the town. Elena had been sending episodic letters about the entire situation, who fell in love with who, how they acted, what Carla had been doing, etc. and they had just arrived at the second to last letter where everyone drank the antidote and was back to normal even though Carla escaped.

Elena had finished the letter promising that her last letter would detail what had come out of the circumstances and Marisa was dying to know!

“Wow, Marisa,” Marzel panted, running up next to her to rest his arm on her shoulder, “Slow down. You have a lot more practice on legs than me. You’re too fast.”

“Here’s your hat señor,” the postman broke in between them to hand Marzel the fedora he requested. Elena had also been giving him fashion advice for how to blend in with humans and he had been obediently ordering them from local stores as she had suggested. Last week’s letter told him to get a fedora and get rid of the loud purple sombrero and feather hat that he had been keeping in his room.

“Cool!” Marzel spun the rim of the snazzy black fedora on his head, and almost missed hearing Marisa’s jibe.

“I’m not that fast on legs. You’re just clumsy.” Marisa retorted narrowly avoided the jab Marzel aimed at her ribs for the insult.

Before Marzel could fire back at her with his own comment on her walking skills, Marisa changed the subject to the important topic, “No letter this morning.”

“Come on!” Marzel cried, “I need to know if Elena ended up with Gabe!”

“Gabe?” Marisa wrinkled her nose as they turned to walk back through town to the seashore, “Do you not know, Elena? She’s obviously into Mateo. She’s going to tell us that they are dating right now. I know it.”

“She was only into Mateo because of the love spell.” Marzel gave her a condescending look.

“No! The love spell paired people who had some feelings for each other! That’s why she was all over Mateo. Why would she choose Gabe after all that anyway?” Marisa argued.

“The answer is threefold.” Marzel jabbed the air with his finger assuming his obnoxious fancy voice, “One, she felt bad for rejecting him-”

“Because she was hurting his feelings and she felt that she had no time for dating.” Marisa interrupted.

“She felt bad for rejecting him because she felt like she had to not because she wanted to. Two, they balance each other out. He’s the calm to her impulsivity. He’s knows the laws, she makes the laws.” 

“Hmm... sort of like how you balance me out, Brother?” Marisa pointed out, exaggeratingly tapping her finger against her chin.  

“Let me finish. And number three, they balance each other out as pointed out in number two.” Marzel finished proudly crossing his arms.

“So your argument is twofold.” Marisa smirked, knowing her comment was riling him up. 

“It’s threefold.” “Twofold.”

“Threefold.” “Threefold.”

“Twofold-argh!” Marzel cursed when Marisa’s switch-up caused him to accept her answer.” Fine then, why do you think Elena is into Mateo?”

“You should have seen them together after Elena defeated Shuriki. He was hanging onto her every word to make sure she was okay.” 

“Sounds like a good friendship to me.” Marzel interrupted mocking her voice from her earlier comment but Marisa ignored him. 

“They danced together at the party. And I swear when Elena put on the kelp shirt, she took a peak at Mateo..”

“Psshh that did not happen.” Marzel scoffed.

“You weren’t there.” Marisa crossed her arms, “I saw it with my own eyes.”

“No way. That’s not enough evidence. Why wouldn’t Elena like Gabe? He has it all. Good looks, he’s cautious, he has excellent fighting skills, he’s charming, the girls like him..” 

“Are you rooting for him because he’s like you? Biased much.” Marisa mocked.

“What are you two arguing about?” Cuco asked as the sirenas approached the shore where Cuco, Ocho and Daria were waiting.

“Whether Elena will end up with Gabe or Mateo.” Marisa answered, emphasizing Mateo’s name. They knew what they were talking about since the royal family plus they had been eagerly reading the letters during lunch and dinnertime. 

“That’s great.” Daria snapped curtly as to leave no room to continue the conversation, “Marzel, your dad wants to go over some public relations topic with you, and Marisa, you have to keep your promise to help the children’s singing group. It’s at lunchtime, but you insist on playing with them beforehand so you better get going now.”

Due to her role in helping Saloso and the rest malandros almost invade Coronado and the ensuing rescue, King Pescoro had demoted Daria’s army commander status to being a personal guard for the siblings for the time being. Which was for the best because with the human-sirena peace treaty, there was no need for an army commander unless they were suddenly called to war again.

Now Daria spent her day hounding them to keep on schedule and make sure they...technically Marisa... did not try to sneak off to the mainland when they were needed elsewhere for lessons or other obligations. She took the job as seriously as she took her last position, but they had all noticed that Daria mellowed out a little bit too. They heard her make a joke! It had only happened once though because the event had surprised Marisa so much that she nearly choked on her kelp taco.

“What about Alonso?” Cuco pointed out completely ignoring Daria’s instructions for them to head back to Coronado.

“What about him?” The siblings cocked their heads to the side in unison.

“Elena and Alonso.” Cuco said as if that cleared things up.

“Elena and Alonso are not here. Let’s get going.” Ocho commanded.

“No. No. I can’t picture Elena and Alonso together.” Marzel laughed, 

“Remember that part where he sang that awful song to Naomi. And he slept with the malvago. No way would Elena date a guy like him.”

“You can finish this conversation later. You have duties to attend to.” Daria reminded them, impatiently slapping her fin against the water.

“Alonso showed no interest in her. With or without the love potion.” Marisa argued with the large hippocampus.

“But who knows. Maybe they both had a change of heart after the love potion. He was going all over the place because he had no true love. Maybe Elena is the one for him. The prince and the princess” Cuco sighed dreamily. 

“No.” Marisa and Marzel insisted in unison. 

“It’s Mateo.” “It’s Gabe.”

“Will you two stop? Elena is going to say she is dating Mateo in her next letter. Now let’s go do important things then speculate about your friend’s love life. Marzel, take off that hat, we’re leaving.” Daria finished the argument for them.

“What? No you can’t think it’s Mateo too!” Marzel cried, completely ignoring her order to take off his fedora.

Daria rolled her eyes, “It’s obvious. They look at each other with complete trust whenever I saw them interact. Love is just adding tenderness to the equation.”

“No-but-no. What do you know about love?” Marzel shot back.

“I know a lot more about love, and war, and life than you do.” Daria raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Hmm then you’re willing to put your money where your mouth is? I bet 50 sand dollars plus 3 gold doubloons that Elena ends up with Gabe.” Marzel challenged, slipping some golden doubloons from his leggings to hold up.

“I’ll bet 100 sand dollars.” Daria answered with a smirk at Marzel’s nervous gulp.

“105.” Marzel said.

“Oh oh I wanna get in this too. I’d give you 20 doubloons if you’re right. No sand dollars.” Ocho scooched up with get on top of Daria’s shoulder.

“Guys? I don’t know if we should do this. It’s one thing to debate, but betting?” Marisa said, nervously listening to the escalating numbers.

“10 sand dollars that she ends up with Alonso.” Cuco added.

“30 doubloons that if you’re right, she’ll dump him within a week.” Marzel scowled.

“I say 134 sand dollars that Alonso would get bored before Elena would dump him, and so dump her.” Daria contested.

“This is just getting mean.” Marisa vocalized as the one sound of reason but to no avail.

“Elena would dump Gabe. Who wants to bet 10 doubloons that Elena dumps Gabe?” Ocho hollered.

“Guys.”

“Elena dumps Mateo.”

“Eight sand dollars plus three copper doubloons.”

“Mateo dumps Elena!”

“Four doubloons.”

“They get married.” 

“They’ll divorce.”

“Alonso would so cheat on her.”

“300 sand dollars.” 

“Eighteen sand dollars.”

“GUYS!” Marisa yelled, freezing everyone in the middle of their frenzied betting.

Marisa walked across the shoreline looking at each of them square in the eye as she sang, “How dare you play with love? Have you no decency?

Love is what created him, and him, and her, and me.

How dare you play with love?

Is nothing sacred to you?”

Marzel and Cuco looked guiltily to the ground, Daria stared stonily ahead but tensley rubbed the doubloons in her hands, Ocho scowled.

“Love is what unites me and you and him and her and him and him and me as well.”

Marisa stared at them and their ill-at-ease postures before letting them off the hook.

“JK LOL!”

The four stared at her in confusion. Both from the odd human slang Naomi had taught her and for her sudden change of heart.

“I want in on this too. But can we be discreet about it? It feels wrong and our parents would probably say it’s wrong to place bets on Elena’s love life... It’s just I have a good feeling that I’m going to win!” Marisa squealed, holding up a sand dollar her brother dropped on the sand, “Let's do this!”

They all immediately scrambled to gather up their currencies so no straying beach goers would find them. They had decided the copper doubloons would be used for any Mateo bets since it was the closest to the color red. Silver would be Gabe and Alonso was gold. 

Meanwhile Marisa began to hum a jaunty tune, “Love's not a game, love's not a game.

None of us would ever say love's a game.

That would be bad, you can be sure-a.”

“But I'm in the mood to wear this cool fedora,” Marzel rhymed before Daria snatched it off his head.

Marisa and Marzel jumped into the water to transform to their normal form, “Love's not a game, love's not a game. We would never play with love like it's a game.”

Ocho swam up next to Cuco, unofficial racing him to the next rock, “But if we did...”

Cuco winked, “And that would be wrong.”  

They crowed together as they whipped around the kelp beds, “We'd put 30 doubloons down that Gabe has the biggest schlong.”

Marisa raised her eyebrows at that image but shrugged, “Oh, interesting, I'll double that!”

Daria put her nose in the air, “I'll triple that!”

Marisa took up the next chorus as they swam through the shipwreck graveyard, “Love is not sirenas swimming down courses. They're our dear friends, they are not seahorses.”

Cuoco galloped ahead of her, “Their love is pure, groom meets bride,”

“So we'd never soil it with a death pool on the side,” Ocho added nudging Marzel who flinched at Marisa’s “that-is-so-wrong” glare.

Daria handed Ocho a sand dollar, “Alonso, age 52, parasailing accident.”

Ocho gasped, “That's so smart. Same.”

Marisa shook her head at that sick bet even though she kind could see it happen. Marzel started the next line of their song, “Love's an endgame, but it's not a game.”

“Our mouths keep saying that, but our hands need change,” Marisa admitted when she placed an IOU for 60 sand dollars and a pound of doubloons with Cuco that if Mateo and Elena got married in the future, Mateo would be the one to propose.  

“Put 30 on red, poetically...For red's the color of a heart that beats free.”

“Red is also Mateo. It's going to be Mateo.” Daria yelled as she zoomed off ahead at the sight of the coral alarms so she could recheck them.

The closer they approached the castle, the more jittery Marisa got. It was like being near the presence of her parents reminded her how wrong this was. She looked to her side and saw that Marzel had a similar anxious expression. She swam up next to him, suddenly wishing to stop the group so she could return her bet money.

“We definitely shouldn't do this,

We definitely shouldn't do this.

This is bad, this is bad,

We're going to hell, this is bad.”

Yet the moment they arrived at the palace Marisa and Marzel’s worries dissipated. They were immediately whisked off to their respective duties and temporarily forgot about their betting and their money until dinner time came.

“Marisa, do you want to see if Princess Elena’s letter arrived yet?” Queen Camila said nonchalantly, but the way her tail twitched underneath their dinner table signaled that she was a lot more excited than she let on about hearing the conclusion to the long saga.

Marisa hesitated for a second when she heard her father come swimming up eagerly, “Is the letter here? Did Elena end up with Gabe?” 

“No, honey. There’s no letter about Elena not ending up with Gabe.” Queen Camila corrected with a soft hand on his.

The moment that clinched it was when Marisa spotted her mom mouth, “It’s going to be Mateo,” and her dad shook his head patronizingly.

“Marzel, Daria, Ocho, Cuco, we’re going to see if there is a letter!” Marisa whooped, not even looking behind her to see if the others were following.

When Marzel was able to catch up to her Marisa sheepishly turned to him to say, “Uh um can I get in on the Alonso parasailing bet. I think it’s very likely to happen.”

“Oh that’s off. We all agreed that Alonso is likely to die parasailing.” Marzel waved it off dismissively.

Marisa giggled a little at the thought that was the one bet they could all agree on. Then she got back on task to swimming as fast as she could.

They were going to find their answer in a matter of moments. Hopefully today!

Once they reached the shores, Marisa and Marzel jumped up, crashing into each other once they were on the sandy ground. Heads bumping, but too animated to feel the pain they raced to the town’s post office as Ocho yelled behind them, “Don’t open it without us!”

Marisa was the one who arrived at the office first after Marzel tripped over an old lady’s cane and she nearly knocked over the elderly postman herself.

“Steady there, señorita.” The postman warned, chuckling grittily, “I have what you wish.” 

“YES!” Marisa prompting Marzel to run faster in her direction.

“Thankyouthankyousomuch!” Marisa babbled hugging the man before ripping the document from his hands.

As she turned the corner, she crashed into Marzel turning the world upside down with dancing starfish around her head.

“IS THIS IT?” Marzel crowed in amazement, taking the document reverently from her, earning the disapproving glare of a man with a baby at his loudness.

“YES IT IS!” Marisa screeched, grabbing it back from him. The creamy white document had a red seal of a jaquin’s head. It may have been her imagination but it just seemed to glow and sparkly like the gold doubloons and sand dollars she was bound to collect after they read it.

“SHHHHH!” The man shushed them.

The siblings scrambled to their feet and ran to the shore leaping and singing excitedly.

“Love's not a game, love's not a game.

That being said, let's make it rain!

While Cupid descends from above...”

“They have it! They have it! I’m going to be rich!” Ocho shook Cucoa’s shoulders with exhilaration and even stone-faced Daria was smiling in anticipation.

“Can you even spend it?” Cuco innocently asked the octopus earning a smack on the cheek from the irate sea creature.

Marisa and Marzel knelt down to the knees and sang their song as they slowly opened the letter. “The group mind has decided to bet on love!”

The song began to grow in volume as the three others joined in repeating the refrain, “Love's not a game, love's not a game,

Love's not a game!”

Marisa cracked open the seal and Marzel slipped out the letter, “Alonso should be wary of parasails!”

They all scanned the letter, reading as fast as their eyes could possibly go. Marisa was skimming so quickly that she reached the “Love, Elena” part without even understanding what she had read and nervously went back to the beginning to read again.

Nothing was jumping out at her. No Mateo or Gabe or love.

Was it possible that Elena ended up with no one?

The nagging guilty feeling that Marisa had forgotten came back again to form a pit in her stomach. They all had gotten so caught up in her love life, they had forgotten the true sight of it all. A love potion did not mean Elena was going to make it a big focus of her life from now on. She had other things to do, a kingdom to run and they were busy making bets on a part of her life that was only hers alone to care about.

It wasn’t even like they cared about Elena’s love life for the sake of her happiness, they just wanted to get money out of the bets.

No, this disappointment served them right.

“What?” Ocho screeched indignantly, “This is useless. It has nothing!”

“She-she didn’t end up with anyone?” Marzel moaned disappointedly.

Marisa looked frantically at the parchment even at the little side bars to see if there was any doodles or invisible words, but nothing!

“Wait!” Daria grabbed the paper ad flipped it to the back.

“And Mateo?”

Marisa snatched it back, “Love Elena” she flipped it to the back, “And Mateo! With a heart next to. I think they’re together.”

All those regretful feelings about how wrong Marisa felt it was to bet on Elena’s love life disappeared with a snap. She’d won! She was getting so much money! She had bragging rights over her brother! Yes!!

“Oh goodness, they’re together. That means I’m right! HA, I’M RIGHT!”

“Noooo!” Marzel and Cuco yelled out when Marisa began her celebratory dance, high fiving Daria and all of Ocho’s tentacles.

“Pay up!” Ocho sing-songed, gesturing to Cuco.

“Fine” Marzel grumbled handing each of them two sand dollars, “I’ll give the rest to you later. So you can give it back to me when they break up.”

“There not breaking up.” Marisa laughed, “Also I hate to say it, but I told you so. “No you’re not.” Marzel rolled his eyes, huffing with outrage at being proven wrong.

“Nope cause I’m rich!” Marisa cheered and then booped Marzel on the nose, “Aww don’t get all pouty just because I’m better at matters of the heart than you.”

With that final smug comment on her victory, Marisa leapt into the water to go tell her mother the fabulous news.

#love potion extravaganza #bonus #princess marisa #prince marzel #daria #ocho #cuco #eleteo #elena of avalor #my fanfic #my fanfiction

[a-room-with-a-mew]

SCOOP by Evelyn Waugh

‘The funniest novel ever written about journalism’… I don’t know; is it just me or does this not really sell it? Is journalism a natural place we go to for laughs? I mean.. Yeah, there are comic-features writers, and journos who write books and scripts and maybe even do stand up. But in terms of fiction, of stories, I’d almost always think of journalism as high drama, a noble pursuit like in All the President’s Men or Superman. Waugh is interested in hackism. Okay he is indulging in a little self-parody here, as a writer himself, but for quite a time, this book feels like a long in-joke, a nudge to a colleague. While it works well as a series of jokes, sketches, and odd-ball characters in crazy situations, the fact that this is a novel means that we are invited to rest our feet upon the rocky conceit of a war in a far-off, fictional foreign land, which may or may not reflect a real war/ place. And additionally, as the place and people aren’t real, only ‘inspired by’, Waugh can say whatever he bally likes about them with impunity. A bit like The Life of Brian, only well – not as funny! Tall order though of course.

Let’s dive in. I managed to stick with and read SCOOP on my third attempt after owning the novel for years. Like a lot of books, the cover mystifies. Who are these? Mrs Stitch presumably? There’s only two watery female characters in the book so must be her. She doesn’t figure much so the cynic in me thinks the publishers are attempting to glam up the story.. With her fur and hat and the moody black and white. Reminds me of an edition of Brideshead I saw once in a shop – the cover had a cartoon slinky flapper girl – the hat, the stole, elbow-length gloves, cigarette holder, diamonds and whatnot. Missing the point a bit I think! So! Here we have two snoots getting on a plane. This doesn’t happen in the book. Natch.

Story

Likely the appeal or not of this story will depend upon whether you like action / adventure stories and seek thrills and fantastic places and daring endeavours. Of course you do! Well, I don’t. Or at least – I don’t tend to read them. Give me Indiana Jones on the big screen – but I don’t know if I’d read Alexander Fleming or the da Vinci Code (again). In the books I read, people tend to sit around thinking, or drive thinking, or potter around the kitchen, thinking, or fall in love but not realize it or declare it, or holiday and develop the self, but very subtly, or befall intensely personal disasters,  make human connexions that you have to squint to see.

Suffice to say I loved, say, A Handful of Dust to distraction. Brilliant book. What actually happened? What was the plot? Ahm… Well.. Hard to describe, the slow, tragic dissolution of a marriage. That makes it sound boring. It isn’t!! SCOOP kind of is, and yet the action doesn’t let up for a paragraph.

Waugh – probably joyfully – breaks the golden rule of writing by NOT introducing his main character in the first page / chapter. Tries to fox us, he does. Very clever – in fact the whole book is, very clever: maybe that’s why it left me behind in the dust. Okay, so though some administrative cock-up, our hero, William Boot - a very sheltered country-squire sort who generally never leaves his decaying mansion full of ancient relatives – he’s never described physically, but go ahead and imagine the plus-fours, Norfolk jacket, pristine boots, hunting hat, moustache - finds himself sent, as a foreign correspondent, to a war-torn country of which he has never heard. Promising premise.  

What follows is William’s whirlwind adventure of being summoned to his new post, preparing to go to Africa, complete with the bare essentials - collapsible boat and hockey-sticks and back-street passports. Everything is charged back to the paper – The Beast – and so there is a real consumer-fetish going on here too! As William is one of those old-fashioned toffs who own great estates but are somehow stony broke.

Much of the novel is taken up with travelling – to this fabled Ishmaelia, which was initially founded by an American family called the Jacksons, and various in-fighting and coups have taken place within the dynasty for generations. Now they’re out of power, and socialism is threatening to sneak in via the Russians. I do believe? And there’s much interest in this particular country from other well-to-do nations. Of course this doesn’t come about for a while, and for most of the mission, William wanders around hearing snippets and spending the paper’s money. Is Waugh indulging in a little revenge fantasy? William is incapable as a journalist, but just happens to be in the right place at the right time and know the right people, and comes through with the climactic glory of the story – not the exposure of the truth, but a good story with lots of COLOUR.

Characterization

Okay well, as I’ve mentioned somewhere, Waugh is not a writer whose strongest suit is characterization – it’s his writing, wording that shines, and we’ll get to that in a minute. And yet the characters are the reason we generally love a story, no? Or at least – if you are interested in the human psyche, the intricacies of human relations, the effect of surroundings upon the humans therein. But for Waugh, his love is words and the ways he can string them beautifully: he sees the novel "not as an investigation of character, but as an exercise in the use of language.” An exercise! Like you do at school.

William Boot, the protagonist, is so wan and inconsequential that his mistaken namesake is introduced first, and more memorably. He reminds me of Paul Pennyfeather from Decline and Fall – he is only there to go along with the plot, adding nothing to it with his own input, but only to observe the zany characters around him. And Paul annoyed me so much! The way the others were breaking curfew in college, and Paul blandly took the blame without a fight. And he floats through the rest of it. Although William differs from Paul in one way – though William is rather pushed into this job, and takes the glamour and action in his stride, he retains a strong and immovable affection for his dreary old homestead, and that is the true love of the story – his affection for the country-side and desire to walk “feather-footed through the plashy fen.” William says no – and he’s such a blah character that it truly surprises and delights when he does.

At one stage he purports to be in love with a woman – she does him out of a load of money and a boat, in which he helps her and her husband escape. It’s not as noble as it sounds! Each and every character in this story is out for themselves. If they can’t see past their nose, why ought we invest?

SCOOP has memorable caricatures – larger-than-life, humorous, and distinctive, but they are there to portray ideas, not to have their own agency and accountability and foibles. They run around building and holding in place Waugh’s ideas, they exist to show the deftness of his pen, they are satire, they are text.

Writing

Brilliant as always, and makes the reader wish that Waugh’s themes and characters were as wonderful and satisfying as his prose.

“The immense trees which encircled Boot Magna Hall, shaded its drives and rides, and stood (tastefully disposed at the whim of some forgotten, provincial predecessor at Repton), singly and in groups about the park, had suffered, some from ivy, some from lightening, some from the various malignant disorders that vegetation is heir to, but all principally from old age. Some were supported with trusses and crutches of iron, some were filled with cement; some, even now, in June, could show only a handful of green leaves at their extremities. Sap ran thin and slow; a gutsy night always brought down a litter of dead timber.”

Now who else is going to describe a group of trees so well? Not only are they so very clear to picture, he has given them history, and in doing the history of the house, the family, and possibly the decaying aristocracy itself. I bet the fields are thick with meadowsweet and all!

Waugh has lots of fun with the journalistic jargon; the idea that an article must have news, but to sell, it must have colour – love that term: it must have some literary merit, some artistic verve, really appeal to the reader. Elsewhere William keeps getting increasingly frantic and mysteriously coded cables from the newspaper offices in London, going to despair because he’s not providing any stories he promised and running up enormous bills. Finally he manages: “Please don’t worry quite safe and well in fact rather enjoying things weather improving will cable again if there’s any news Yours Boot.” And later “Nothing much has happened except the president who has been imprisoned in his own palace.” The downplaying is so dry and delightful. I wish I knew what was going on. Maybe that’s the point!

#evelyn waugh #scoop #book review #booklr #books #penguin modern classics #20th century literature

[imagineswriting47]

The Truth, Lies and Going Home Part Two

A/N: This post will be a bit different. This was originally sent to @ugh-itsmalfoy who is an amazing writer! Upon reading their own post I got inspired to write my own take on the story. The requests that was sent is Hi! I was hope in that you could do one where you are Harry’s twin sister and everyone thinks you died with your parents but you body was never found. Then you show up during Harry’s 3rd year (or what ever year you want) looking just like Lily. And you find out together that you are brother and sister. If that is to specific sorry! And if not that’s okay and thank you for your time!

This story is NOT beta read so all mistakes are min and mine alone.

Summary: The Reader having always known she was adopted was shocked when she found out her parentage. Not knowing how to deal with it she hides it till she finds her self at Hogwarts and face to face with her brother.

Warnings: NONE

Paring: NONE

Part One

The first week of school was difficult I got lost more than once; even with the help of Hermione, making me late for class and causing teachers to take House Points from me. It was two of the teachers that that confused me most from the way that they looked at me. They looked at me like they knew me and sometimes they looked at me like they were trying to read my mind expectually Professor Snape. With my talent at potions it never gave him a reason to yell at me in class as I was always able to make the potion that had been assigned. All of the classes that I am taking are easy; the work that I am doing now in my third year at Hogwarts I did in my second in America.

I had yet to make any friends; I had those that I talked to but none that I would trust. While I spent most of my time with Harry, Ron and Hermione I could still feel that I was a outsider. But it didn’t help that I had a secret; Harry had mentioned before that he had a sister. Then and there I almost broke and told him the truth but I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him, not because I was afraid of what it would do to me; but afraid that I wasn’t going to be what he believed me to be. I wanted to protect him, just because he didn’t know that I was his sister didn’t mean that I would not protect my brother even if that meant from me.

It was a horrible day out, the rain feel in sheets soaking everything that was out in it. Today was a quidditch match I was still learning the game we didn’t have anything like this in America and I found it amazing. It was brutal and I couldn’t believe that parents let their kids play this game. All it took was a second and Harry was off flying up into the sky chasing after the golden snitch the other Seeker right beside him. They got so high into the sky that with the clouds I could no longer see the two of them. When the one Seeker fell out of the sky I became scared, scared that the same thing would happen to Harry. I was right to be scared not long after the first Seeker fell that Harry came down as well. Without thinking I raised my hand to the sky and used Aresto Momentum to slow down his fall; not even realizing that my wand was not in my hand and that everyone that was around me was now looking at me. I race down out of the seats and onto the field to see that he was okay. Others were not that far behind me; quickly getting him off the field and back up to the school. The game was over, Gryffindor lost.

I was one of the students that was waiting for him to wake up. Waiting to make sure that he is going to be okay. Once he had woken up and that I knew that he was going to be fine I quickly left; leaving him to talk to those that he was closer to than I. And not wanting to stand here and risk the other asking me anything that I was not willing to answer, not yet at least. Walking back to the common room it is Professor Snape that stops me in the halls.

“Professor Dumbledore wants to speak to you.” He turns and walks away from me expecting for me to follow him. Part of me wants to run knowing what he is going to ask me but I know that I can’t. With some quick steps I fall in behind him as he leads me to the gryffin that guards the office of the Headmaster. There are four Professors in the room once Snape and I step into it. Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lupin and now Snape. This isn’t going to end well I can just tell.

“You wanted to see me Sir?” I ask when I step into the room and look to him. Looking over the room and just wanting to go to the bookshelves and read all the book that they hold. The things that they could teach me could be so amazing.

“Yes, I wanted to say well done today out there on the Quidditch field. That was some very powerful magic that you used.” He says in his quiet voice that is kind but also commanding. I understand now the respect that he has from everyone her now that i have spent time here in not only Europe and now Hogwarts.

“Thank you Sir.” I don’t eliberat further on the unspoken question that he is asking me. No one says anything for sometime after that. The Professors continue to look at making me fidget in my seat. I know that they have questions they want to ask me, I want to hear them but at the same time I don’t know if I want to answer them.

“Would you tell us more?” He finally asks me from where he sits across from me. A simple question but one that has the possibility to change my life for better or worse I don’t know yet.

“What would you like to know. That I am powerful, you know that; you saw. I don’t have to use a wand but I do. I have not found magic that I couldn’t use, magic that I couldn’t cast.” As I am talking I move my hand and the whole of the room starts to shake. Not realizing that I have lost control of my emotions meaning that I have lost control of my magic. The Professors look around concerned as things rattle and shake in there place.

“Are you doing this?” Professor Lupin asks as he tries to stay up on his feet. I take a deep breath in and hold it and count to ten before letting it out. Once again I am calm the room stops it shaking. Once reaching out with my magic I look to see if there is damage. Finding none I pull the reach of my magic to me and and pay attention to the people in the room with me.

“Sorry. I lost control.” I mumble as I look away from them unable to look them in their eyes. Ashamed that I had lost control like that. “I don’t have the outlets that I once did.” I feel more in control now than before glad for the chance to let my magic a chance to breathe.

“And what outlet are you missing.” Dumbledore asks me. Deciding that it is something that is better showed than I talked about. I quickly stand from my seat and make my way over to where Professor Lupin is standing. It is just after a full moon and while no one seem to know that he is a werewolf but I know, it was not that hard for me figure it out. Not when you know what to look for.

“May I see your hand?” I ask Lupin as I come to stand in front of him. “Trust me.” I hold my hand out to him. With some hesitation he places his hand into mine. I let the warmth of my magic spread through me; the hum that I always feel under my skin grows more intense. With my eyes closed I can’t see the moment that the golden light shines from me. Swarming around Lupin and I finding all the broken bones, cuts and bruises and heals them all before moving on. Once I can no longer feel all the damage done from the full moon; I let it fade away. The light, the power the feeling of being free again. I open my eyes once everything fades; to once again see everyone looking at me. Something that I am getting used to from being in school here.

“Before I moved here I was learning the art of the Healing Light. It is a very powerful form of magic in the States and very few can do it. I’m the youngest that has ever been taught how. It can heal any wound every broken bone. I always wanted to help people and this way I can learn better control of all the magic that I can feel inside of me.” I walk around the room as the silence is still not broken not by questions or anything I can barely hear them even breath.

“Thank you.” I finally hear from Professor Lupin.

“It’s fine, some nights are harder than other right Professor?” I don’t come right out and say that I know how he got so hurt. But judging from the widening of his eyes he understands me just as well as if I did.

“I….” Lupin starts to say but words seem to fail him at the moment making him fall silent.

“I am young Professor, but I can see more than you think.” With a smile on my face I turn back to the bookshelves and run my finger along the spines of the books. Taking in the titles of the books as my finger goes across them.

“I have detention today if you will excuse me Headmaster.” McGonagall say as she stands from her chair and walks out of the room. If she is telling the truth I don’t know but I am glad that I now have one less person that can ask me questions. Questions that I really don’t want to answer.

“Please would you take another seat Y/N?” Once again Dumbledore asks me a question but it is not; it is a statement. Walking back to the seat that I left when I got up to show them what I could do. Leaving the books behind but committing the titles to my memory to see if I can find the elsewhere.

“Tell me about yourself Y/N; we didn’t get a chance to talk about it before.” Dumbledore says once I am in my seat.

“Not much to tell really. I was adopted by my parents when I was around a year old. I grew up in America, I had a very happy childhood. Lots of friends; found out I was a witch when I was eleven just like everyone here. My parents were proud but not surprised weird things always happened to me. That’s about it really.” I tell the three of the remaining Professors the short version on my life but tell them the important parts.

“You are adopted? From England?” Snape asks me when I finish talking. Looking me over as he asks me, as if looking to see if I am telling the truth.

“Ya, born but not raised.” I say with sarcasm in my voice I turn away from him and look at a point on the wall behind Dumbledore’s head.

“Do you know who your birth parents are?” Lupin asks me ignoring the tone of voice that I just used. Wanting to know the answer more than wanting to yell at me for the tone of my voice I used to talk to a Professor.

“Yes, but it was something that I found when I was older.” I answer him this time leaving out the sarcasm. Understanding that this is not the time for my sarcasm needing to take this seriously. Not something that I am always used to when people ask me questions about my life and where I come from.

“And who are they?” Lupin asks, if he had been sitting in a chair he would have been on the edge of the seat waiting for my answer. Almost bouncing in his seat he seems like a child waiting for a sweet to be given to him.

“Professor Dumbledore I think that you know, but haven’t said. You might just be right, from what I have found I look just like my Mother.’ I stand then from the chair and head to the door planning on leaving not caring that I have not been told that could go. They have asked my enough question, and pried into my life more than what I care for.

“Cedar?” I freeze at the sound of my birth name unable to take another step.

A/N: If you liked this please hit that heart. If your really liked that please re-blog! If you would like a part three let me know

Don’t forget that requests are still open!

#harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #Sirius Black #sirius black imagine #harry potter spells

[wolf-haten]

Hi guys! I was a staff member of Wolf-Haven from 2011 to 2016, although I was not very active for the last two years because that’s around the time Karlos lost interest in WH. It was very frustrating to work for someone who did not care to be an administrator of his own site, and you can only preach to someone so much before you realize that it is a lost case and your time is better spent elsewhere.

I want to preface my statement by saying that I am not here to slander the site, spread rumors, or bash it for no reason. I am here to share facts – events that really happened – and my recollection and opinions of those events. I will probably be banned from WH if Karlos sees this, but I obviously stopped playing the game years ago and I no longer interact with the community.

Seeing Karlos’s activity elsewhere bothers me to no end. I asked him to work on things several times; he always claimed that he was going through a lot or that he was very depressed. I completely understand, and he really did experience life-changing events that affected him and forced him to step away from WH for a month here and there. That being said, these events did not last for years, which is how long it’s been since he’s given a flying fuck about the site. He has had enough time to bounce back and readjust. He has gone to furry conventions, dated multiple people, moved, etc. I think what many people failed to realize (even myself) was that Karlos was not absent; he knew exactly what was going on. Staff can see the last time a user logs on, and his timestamps were always recent. He visits the site, and he has an extensive knowledge of web coding and design. He showed me the dozens of textbooks that he read on coding and web security. Perhaps it was a lack of motivation? I’m not really sure; he definitely had the capacity to fix many of the issues that occurred.

I think that when WH was hacked in 2013, he lost a lot of confidence in himself. I don’t think the site truly ever recovered from the hack. We lost many of the most well-known members simply because of the way Karlos chose to handle the events after the hack. He banned users who disagreed with his decision to not restore XP (the site had to be reverted to a previous backup, which was at least a week or so old). He claimed that they were trashing the site and being mean to him but in reality, they were just expressing their opinion. By the way, it’s beyond me why WH wasn’t backed up more frequently.

Out of the many users that he banned, I feel that the most notable ban was Stormgaze. Stormgaze was a notorious member who knew a lot about web design and… well, he wasn’t a moron, so he could see past a lot of Karlos’s BS. And he was vocal about it. Stormgaze ran a blog where he voiced his opinions about current WH happenings, which inspired me to create my own (this is important later). Stormgaze didn’t always see eye to eye with Karlos and was willing to point out his mistakes. I don’t feel that Karlos takes criticism well because Stormgaze eventually got a permanent ban. Stormgaze was a very matter-of-fact person who held an elitist view on the site and his own choices, but he knew his shit. Looking back now, I feel that a lot of his rudeness was just him being an honest person. He saw past the façade that blinded many of us.

As for Karlos’s creepiness? I mean, I can see where you’re coming from, though I don’t think I particularly experienced any of it. I joined the staff team when I was 14 but I lied and said that I was 16 because that was the minimum age requirement after the site’s renovation. (Karlos, if you’re reading this, I’m a really shitty person and I apologize for lying to you. Regardless, I did my job and I did it damn well.) He Skyped me once out of the blue which I found a bit odd, and he had his webcam on and was showing me stuff around his room. I definitely glorified him a lot back then, so I was just excited that the site owner was talking to me personally. I don’t think he meant anything of it but it came across as really weird, especially given that I was only 16 when that happened, and he was at least 21 or 23.

Before I forget about Karlos’s extensive dating profile, remember how he used the donation money to visit his girlfriend in the United States in 2011 or 2012? The donation money that was supposed to partially be donated to a local animal shelter, and the rest was supposed to go towards hosting the site? Yeah. I can tell you now that WH has had an immense profit and it STILL somehow makes a profit because people upload multiple characters to the site. Customs cost around $10-12 and there are over 3,000 of them on-site. Many members also purchased Points to spend on leveling up their wolf and to buy artwork from other members. Do the math, and Karlos makes a royal shitton.

But does anyone remember how he put the website up for sale a few years ago and immediately removed the listing when users found out? He later denied any allegations, but I think selling the website would have been his best bet.

I’ve saved the best content for last, which is the knowledge that I have because I was a staff member. I have never kept my opinions a secret, and I’ve always been honest. Here’s where my blog becomes important: I had a WH blog where I discussed what was going on with the site after updates, gave opinions on community events, and so on. After 1.3, Karlos asked me to remove an article that critiqued his inactivity because it made him look bad. I obliged, but I felt that it was majorly fucked up. I knew that if I didn’t remove the article, he would remove me from staff. I was a new moderator with 1.3 and it was something that I worked hard for, so I was not willing to give it up.

I’m not really sure where to start. I hold a personal grudge against Karlos because I was on staff for the longest time, yet three other moderators received promotions to admin before me. Sheri was one of my good friends and she did the job well, and I’m not sure how Fang still manages to have so much passion for the site, but I respect her immensely for that (although I don’t know why she’s still wasting her time; WH is not a relevant website at this point). I always amounted their promotions to personal bonds that they had, and I was never that upset because I can entirely understand why someone would want to promote a friend. What I will never forgive Karlos for is making Jekyll a mod and an admin and choosing her to run the site. Jekyll was a rude member before she became a mod, and she was even ruder with a blue name. I turned in complaints about her behavior numerous times, and other members came to me because she was so awful to them. He always claimed that he would talk to her about her behavior but he never did. I later found out that Jekyll and Karlos were so close because Jekyll was working on Cervidae with him. Instead of creating art for WH, they made art for Cervidae. We had a staff forum where multiple artists, including Jekyll, claimed different animals to work on. Miraculously, they were never finished. Jek and Karl (more like Jekyll and Hyde) were pouring all of their energy into this deer RPG thing that never actually opened up to the public. Amazing concept, but it was executed poorly. And instead of ending WH or passing it on to someone who was capable of handling it, he put Jekyll in charge. She is the most unprofessional person that I know. Have you read the news posts? Her grammar is absurd, she unnecessarily capitalizes random words, and she just… oh my, it irks me to no end. The FRONT OF THE WEBSITE is unprofessional. Who wants to join a website where the news is updated after months and it isn’t even typed correctly? Having someone represent your website who can’t even hold a normal full-time job is really embarrassing. But maybe that’s why they got along so well! /shrug

Jek was awful with how she treated the members. We never had any protocols to follow when giving users PM warnings or mutes or bans; there was no structure so we were all doing different things. Jek would mute someone for having stolen artwork on their profile, whereas I would PM the user, explain why the artwork was considered stolen, and add it to their user notes. I brought this issue up multiple times and was told by Fang that I was actually the one in the wrong. ??? That’s so corrupt that it’s ridiculous. None of these people knew how to be a moderator. It is beyond me why someone should be muted because they broke a rule they probably didn’t even understand. The point of being a moderator is to help users to understand the rules, not to be Hitler and swing your banhammer around willy-nilly. That’s probably why I never got along with anyone on the staff team, though.

Oh, and the staff panel was broken for years. When a post was reported and you clicked on the post link, you’d get “HTTPS” in the URL bar twice, so the link would be invalid. I’m sorry, but as a staff member, I should not have to manually type in a reported post just to handle it. The fact that he couldn’t even add a simple fix to the mod CP was really offputting and made me realize that I was working for someone who didn’t care about me. We didn’t get any compensation for our work until someone suggested it in 2013. Our compensation was 5 free customs because we were staff. Cool.

It was a very hard decision for me to leave the team, but I realized that WH was not the site it once used to be and it was never going to be fixed. I was not comfortable working for Jekyll because I don’t think she has a thousand competent brain cells and she’s just not an enjoyable person to be around. It was exhausting to work for a website and try to make progressive movements, only to be shot down and ignored. I begged Karlos to get new animal artwork. I begged him to update the mod panel. To fix the referral system… nothing was ever done. I had to accept with a heavy heart that he was never going to change, and the website would never amount to much. The community is dead. All of my friends left or were banned after the hack. I hated the people I worked with; there was nothing to keep me there.

#wolf-haven #wolf haven #neonwolfgames #cervideer #karlos #jekyll #fang #submission

[mysticsparklewings]

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 15: Music Inspiration

I'm not okay that book that's torn & frayed you read me when you need me just turn another page I'm not okay even when you fall there's a better ending after all ____ We officially halfway through NaPoWriMo! :D And I have to admit, I found today's prompt a bit ironic for a few reasons that I'll explain later. The prompt in question being, "write a poem inspired by your favorite kind of music," except napowrimo.net also goes on to say, "try to recreate the sounds and timing of" [insert types of music here]. This confused me a little because does this mean I'm required* to make my inspired piece sound something like the music that inspired it? Or is this part about sounds and timing a recommendation of what I could do with the prompt? Do you mean sounds and timing as in lyrics or as in the actual instruments/backing music? *Technically all the prompts are optional, but because I'm me I want to stick to them as closely as possible, otherwise, what's the point having the prompts? Naturally, it doesn't help that I start working on my NaPo's as soon as possible after the prompt is posted...Meaning as close to 12:01 a.m. that day as I can manage. I usually write the poem for the most part, then make the mandala, and then get up the next day to actually pull out all the mini magnets, put the poem together and post the final product. This means I pretty much never have others' NaPo's to use as a guide for formatting and instead have to look elsewhere if I want that. Looking at what's been posted now, after other people have actually posted their's, I was correct in my assumption that the prompt was trying to guide us to, essentially, writing a song or part of one in a similar style to whatever music we picked. In which case, I have to say...Why could the prompt not just say that? Why not just say, "write a poem as if you were writing a song inspired by your favorite kind of music." That's so much clearer! *Ahem* I digress, I'll simply add that to the list of my problems with NaPo's prompts and save my further grumblings for another day. Now, I found this prompt ironic because I very nearly almost tried to incorporate My Chemical Romance, my favorite band of all time (which you probably knew already if you pay attention to my posts ), in yesterday's NaPo because the prompt was to write about the poets/poems/people that inspire you to write poetry. MCR does inspire me a great deal, mostly just to live in general and sometimes to make art, but not necessarily to write poetry, which is why I ultimately didn't include them. And I figured I'd get another excuse to include them sometime before NaPoWriMo was over, anyway. Oh, how right that ended up being, the very next day should such an opportunity appear!   It was also a bit ironic to me because I ordered their biography, Not the Life it Seems by Tom Bryant a few days ago and it arrived to me yesterday. Just, very funny timing how that all worked out. So when I first read the prompt, I was almost cackling at it, because I thought it would be easy. Then the thing about sounds and timing settled in as I was listening to a few songs and trying to jot down a few ideas, and I realized that my poem writing style does not really suit the beat of an MCR song...and my confidence promptly (haha) fell apart. I did come up with something more in-depth and complicated than this that I thought was okay as a poem, though I was very convinced it wasn't something MCR would write and sing. But I still had a mandala to make, so I decided I'd move forward and make that because that part I knew really would be fairly simple--reds, black, silver/gray, just avoid extremely flowery motifs for the most part but otherwise really anything will work--and then I could come back to the poem part later. Before I went to bed, I still hadn't thought of anything that I could use to make a better poem, so I decided I'd once again move forward under the assumption I'd just use what I'd already come up with (which I'm not mentioning just in case it becomes useful for another NaPo later) and that maybe after some sleep I'd wake up with a new idea that worked better for me. Lucky for me, that's kinda what happened. I laid everything out to start working on the construction, and I looked at what I'd written last night and thought essentially the same thing; It's not a bad poem about MCR, but it's not a poem/song/whatever that sounds like something they'd write. It doesn't "fit" with their sound. I briefly started thinking about some of their lyrics again and decided to try a bit more brainstorming, just for a few minutes, one last time to see if I could turn things around. I came around to the first song I ever listened to by them, I'm Not Okay, and my mind has always hitched on one line towards the end: "You said you read me like a book, but the pages all are torn and frayed." Which I think explains quite a bit here. Two other things that came to mind while I was toying with that, "Go find another way," from their song Disenchanted, and the fact that before they broke up in 2013, there were plans for an MCR5, a fifth album, called The Paper Kingdom. And, of course, the whole overarching theme for me is that while their music is considered Alternative Rock, usually, and a lot of people classify it as "emo," both of which imply roughness and darkness. Which is definitely there, but most (most, not all) of their songs also have a positive message woven into them. To sum the music feeling up in one word: Bittersweet. To my surprise, I also realized they usually have fairly consistent rhyming in their lyrics. It was something I surely noticed before, but it never really sank in. So I took all of that, mixed it up, and this is where we landed. Just turn another page, in my head, would be to the same tune as, Go find another way, and the last two lines are a direct reference to what I just mentioned about their music being largely bittersweet. About being largely dark but often underlyingly positive. And, on a less direct level, it's kind of also a reference to the fact that they came back last year. So to speak, they "fell" in 2013, but there was a better ending--or continuation?--yet to come in the form of their 2019 Return. Beyond that, I really don't have much else in the way of an explanation. But this does sound at least more like something they'd write than what I had before, and that's mostly what I wanted. I tried to be a bit different and less conventional with the mandala shapes, which I think fits their image pretty well. ...That's really all I have to say. This one was a bit of a rollercoaster in terms of poem creation. I no longer know how scared or excited I should be for the forthcoming prompts, so! Tomorrow, what will be? Horror or a breeze? Only time will tell. ____ Artwork/Poem © me, MysticSparkleWings Inspired by FridgePoetProject ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

#napowrimo #mychemicalromance