#I bought fabric for something else and had a shit ton left over

[palossssssand]

hi everyone. i’m making Oveyll into a plush

[drariellevalentine]

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 4- Radical Revelations

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Sienna Trinh, Bryce Lahela, Landry Olsen, Elijah Greene, Jackie Varma, Rafael Aveiro, Ethan Ramsey, Harper Emery

Pairing:- Arielle Valentine x Ethan Ramsey

Warnings:- None

Arielle’s PoV:-

Completely exhausted from the day’s events, you head into the locker room and take a nice but quick hot shower. Drying off, you quickly change into a cute pearl silk tied top with a comfy pair of ripped jeans. Taking out the bun in your hair, you decide to let your hair down, parting deep to the left, caressing your revealed shoulders.

You enter Donahue’s to find it completely packed. You try to squeeze inside apologising every now and then and look around to spot your friends.

You finally find them sitting in a table at the furthest corner of the bar.

"Long day?" Si asks as soon as I slump into the seat next to her.

“You have no idea, according an 18 year old, I look younger than him, so apparently I not eligible to be a doctor cause I look too cute!," I sigh dramatically and she giggles.

"Careful please," Bryce says before placing a tray of shots in our table.

Jackie scoffs, " Why are you even buying us drinks, meathead?"

"He's being nice, Jackie.”, Sienna smiles.

"Yeah, and also you think you could afford to buy that tonight?" I add.

"Sure," she rolls her eyes, "Thank youu," she says sarcastically.

Bryce laughs. "Think of it as a good luck drink guys. You are going to need a lot of luck to get into the diagnostics team."

"Wrong meathead. What we need is brains and hard work. Duh!"

"And luck," Bryce adds smirking, ‘lots of luck’. He emphasizes on the word "luck".

After minutes of bickering in between Bryce and Jackie, Bryce leaves to join his fellow surgeons. But my friends are still talking over the fellowship.

"I can't still believe they'll be taking an intern in the team!" I hear Landry say, his voice filled with excitement. "Never in my wildest dreams did I think that they'll even consider giving an intern a spot in the team let alone train them."

"Cheers on that," Jackie says forwarding a glass.

"Let's have a toast guys," Elijah forwards his glass. "To having a marvelous fellowship."

As we all toast to it I say, "Honestly guys, good luck. I won't be joining the fellowship but I wish the best of luck to you all." I smile. Everyone stares at me like I just refused a million dollars.

"You won't be joining the competition?!" Jackie asks shocked. "But why?"

"Not everyone wants to join the diagnostics team, Jackie," Landry states.

"Maybe not everyone, but Arielle does. The diagnostics team is the very thing that made Arielle apply here, in Edenbrook. That's one of the many things she said to me the day we met." Jackie turns to me then giving me a look that says "I want an answer".

"I know. The diagnostics team is what made me apply here on the first place, but I changed my mind. I got through my first week because of you guys. I don't think I could have done it if you guys were not there to support me," Sienna places a hand on my shoulder, giving me an understanding look.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship by competing with you guys. I need you guys by my side not against me."

"Idiotic choice but your call," Jackie rolls her eyes. And I smile as Sienna hugs me. A while later, you all head home for the day.

General PoV:-

Harsh sunlight streams through the open curtains of Arielle’s magazine cover worthy bedroom. Arielle turns around in her bed to grab her phone from her nightstand. The alarm clock catches her eye ‘9:15 a.m.’ She bolts right up in bed, rushing to her closet while ranting a ton of expletives. Hearing the commotion, Elijah and Sienna rush inside to see Arielle on the floor half-naked tangled in a bunch of clothes. Sienna stares at her in confusion while Elijah understands what’s going on and bursts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”, Arielle asks.

“You forgot today’s our day off, didn’t you?”, Elijah asks knowingly.

“It is? Oh shit! I completely forgot!”

They help Arielle out of the tangle of clothes. “Anyways, we were thinking of going to a baseball game so...I bought everyone matching t-shirts but they only come in two sizes you’ll have to adjust yours. Only then Arielle notices their shirts. Sienna hands her an red oversized t-shirt. “We’re leaving in an hour, get ready!”

Arielle’s PoV:-

You shower and slip on a robe after drying yourself off. “There’s no way in hell I’m wearing this!”, you exclaim holding up the red,baggy, oversized shirt. If there’s one thing you care about, it’s your style. You grab a pair of fabric shears and crop the oversized shirt folding the hem to create a neat finish using fabric glue, then cinch the extra fabric on the slides and secure it in place with a few stitches. You hold up the newly altered shirt and look to your mirror. “Much better!” Pairing it with a pair of studded white jeggings, white heel sandals and a couple of accessories, you sit down on your vanity’s stool. You take out your braid from last night, leaving thick curls in its place. You carefully clip your hair out of place and decide to brush on a little extra makeup. After finishing with your usual moisturiser, concealer and primer, you accentuate your almond eyes with a jet black eyeliner and brush out your brows. Knowing that you won’t need any help in the blush department, you move on to your lips. You decide on your favourite red transfer-proof lipstick ‘Bold Beauty’. You grab a crossbody purse and place your wallet, keys, phone and other essentials and head to the living room.

“What do you think? Is it too much?”, you ask uncertainly.

“Hot damn!”, says Jackie.

“You look gorgeous.”, Sienna says.

“Woah! You look good!”, says Landry.

“Someone call the fire department cause it’s getting hot in here!”, exclaims Elijah.

You blush furiously. “Thanks guys, I’ll drive us there.

You pile in the car as Elijah rides shotgun and gives you directions. You reach there at 10:30. “Ok, 10 minutes till game starts. Everyone split up and stand in a different line and get one of everything. I’ll get the drinks.” Sienna tells everyone where the seats are and everyone splits up. You get a drink tray full of sodas, beers and a lemonade for you, everything packed with ice, and head down to the first row where you find everyone holding snacks.

“Great seats Elijah!”, says Sienna.

“Have to be close to fully appreciate the bloodbath, these teams loathe each other.”

Landry and Elijah start geeking out as you, Jackie and Sienna are talking.

“So...I may or may have not seen you get into Dr. Ramsey’s car yesterday.”, Sienna slyly says.

“Crap!”, you think.

“Tell us everything!”, says Sienna.

“Seriously?”, Jackie asks.

You slowly confide in them about yesterday’s events and what you confessed about your personal life.

“Oh my god, Ari! I’m so sorry!” Sienna pulls you into a hug.

“It’s okay, I’m fine now.”

“Now I feel really bad for judging you, also very surprised and impressed that you managed to get away with sleeping on Dr. Terminator’s shoulder.”, says Jackie.

“It isn’t that big of a deal!”, you counter. Both of them give you a look. “Ok, fine, it is. He was actually really sweet, he even tried to console me.”, you confess. Sienna smiles wide at the mention of this.

“Anyways, you both have to promise not to say a word about this.”, you give them a pleading pout. Jackie’s about to ask about something else when you realise some kind of commotion is going on.

"Oh no, did he faint?" Si says and I look forward to see Jake Sandburg, one of the players lying on the floor. 

The other players rush to his side trying to wake him up.

"Uh, coach, he's in real bad shape," another player says leaning down beside him.

Their team manager hurries out," Damn our team physician quit on us just before the game."

"Is there any doctor here?" The manager asks and on instinct all of our hands goes up.

The manager looks clearly shocked to see five doctors in a front row but doesn't express it as we move towards the field asking the other players to help us move Jake inside.

We follow the other Nighthawker players into their locker as they carry Jake on a stretcher.

"Have you called 911?" I ask their manager.

"Yeah, the paramedics are on their way," the manager sighs, " Poor kid."

"Lay him here," I hear Jackie instruct them as they follow.

"He's got a pulse, but his breathing is shallow," Sienna says in a low and shaky voice. This sudden situation is clearly affecting her.

Landry pulls a stethoscope from his bag and places it against his chest.

"Sounds like fluid build up. We have to solve it fast or else he could be in trouble," Landry announces.

As the others take his vitals, Elijah and I  go to ask his teammates some questions, which we think might help us to crack the case.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" One of the player asks as we approach them.

"You can help us by answering some questions. Has this ever happened before?"

"Not as far as we know," he looks at his other teammates. " Also he had to pass a physical test just recently."

"He was called up from the minor league just a few weeks ago," the manager adds.

"Did he complain about any pain recently?"�� Elijah asks.

"No, he was pretty quite, kept to himself. I think he was worried," the player says. "About what?"

The player shares a look with his manager as soon as I ask that. 

"Look, he's been struggling in the majors. I was in discussions with ownership to send him back down to the minors," the manager answers, a pained expression plastered across his face.

"Did he know about it?" Elijah asks in between.

" You know, the guys talk. Rumors."

"He was kinda freaking out about it, he kept sweating, hyperventilating," the manager adds and I make a mental note of it.

"Hyperventilating... How often?"

"I only saw it a couple of times," the managers states.

"Well, it could've been panic attacks," I conclude thoughtfully.

"He always seemed tired too. Yawing in the meetings, like he didn't get any sleep at all," the player from before says.

"Have you seen any changes in his behavior recently?" Elijah asks.

"Uh, I guess he's been hitting the ice bath a lot recently. Probably because of feeling sore," the guys answers. "But he'd do it even in the days when he wasn't playing," the guys adds after a moment.

"Thanks you for the help. Was he on any medications?" I ask before moving towards the table

"No. The team doctor left all the prescriptions and Sandburg wasn't prescribed anything," the manager says going through the charts.

"Thank you that'll be it," I say and look forward to find a player from the opposite team sneaking in. 

"Hey! You aren’t allowed here," I motion the others towards him as the player who was helping us moves towards him. But then to my surprise he hugs him and the other one whispers words of encouragement in his ears.

"Wait, weren't you two fighting in the field?" I ask shocked.

" Yeah, but that's only on the field. Ray and I grew up playing together in the streets of Miami. We are basically family," The Nighthawker player concludes.

“It’s that easy?”, you ask.

“When we’re in a game, our minds are focused on the game. But the minute it’s over, we’re brothers again. Iron sharpening iron, you know.”, he says but your mind is somewhere else.

“Iron sharpening iron. Competing makes them stronger...” You run back towards the patient.

I think it's a drug interaction. His medicines are amplifying each other out," I announce reaching them. "Two medications perfectly fine on their own, cauting each other to have an outsized affect."

"Oh, that could be it!" Sienna says, a sudden excitement hinting in her voice.

" But the team manager said that their previous doctor didn't prescribe him anything," Elijah says confused.

"Sandburg was already worried about being cut. If the team knew he had a medical condition, they'd be oven less likely to keep him around," I reply.

"So you think he kept him situation quiet to keep his job? Wouldn't be the first time someone's done that," Jackie shrugs .

"What do you think he was taking?" Landry asks.

"Well, maybe something for his panic attacks. Let's say fluoxetine," I reply to him

" That could be it. Getting a prescription for that isn't really hard..."

"Okay, maybe you are right. But what was reacting with it. What else was he taking?" Jackie cuts in between.

"Something for his soreness. His team members said he'd be sore even the days he was not pitching," I answer remembering what the player said.

"It could have been arthritic inflammation," Sienna states.

"Right? He's male in his twenties..." I try to think what it could be.

"Ankylosing Spondylitis!" Landry says.

"He could've been taking N.S.A.I.D for it, like - celecoxib," I say while checking his locker, " Here they are." I say taking out the medicines proving what we said is right.

" It could be doing irreparable damage to his kidneys! We gotta take him to the hospital as soon as possible," Elijah says.

The sound of helicopter blades cut through the commotion in the locker.

" The paramedics are here!" Sienna exclaims happily.

Soon the paramedics enter and you see Rafael running towards you. We explain him about the situation.

"Would you like to have a ride on the choper? My shift will end in five minutes. So after dropping Jake to the hospital we could maybe roam around the city," Raf says nervously once we are out of the locker. The other paramedics get Jake in the chopper.

"I would love that," I give him an assuring smile which he returns.

"Great!" He says making his way towards the chopper after asking me to follow him.

"Any certain place you have in mind where you'd like to go?" He asks smiling broadly getting back to the choper after we've successfully admitted Jake.

"Not really," I give him a silly smile.

"We'll have a tour over the whole city then, more fun," he winks and I giggle.

I am really enjoying the birds eye view. The city looks more beautiful from up here. Capturing the breathtaking city from above, I put it on my Instagram story.

The next picture I take is ours, I smile towards the front and Raf's is a candid, he's looking forward flying the chopper but smiling.

I post it on my Instagram feed, tagging Raf and captioning it "Soaring high with @raveirotheemt.”

You notice you have over 250 likes already. Perks of being famous.

"What do you see?" Raf asks and I look down.

"Edenbrook!" I squeak happily. " The first day in there, the hospital looked so enormous but now it looks so tiny!"

"Everything comes into perspective up here. It's one of the reasons I like it so much."

" How'd you learn to fly?"

"My uncle was a pilot in the Marines. He started teaching me to fly when I was still in high school."

"That was so young!"

"I just saw it as a fun thing to do on the weekends, you know. It was a great way to spend time with a great man," he smiles recalling the memories.

"Are you guys still close?" I ask

"He... He died two years ago."

"I'm so sorry Raf."

"He was really active in our community. When he wasn't flying, he'd organize food drives and buses for anyone struggling," he smiles sadly remembering those days," He's the one who inspired me to be an paramedic. I wanted to help people the way he did."

I nod at him understanding.

"Buckle up. We're ready to land," he tries to say it as normally as possible, smiling. But I know it is just an effort to not let people show his broken side.

“Hey, Jake and many other lives have had a chance to live because of you.”, I assure him.

He relaxes. “You too, Arielle.”

“You both land on Edenbrook’s helicopter pad as staff takes Jake away. You inform them of his condition.

“So... are you ready for the tour?

At first I thought that Beacon Hills were the most beautiful thing I saw today. But when we were taking a turn over Cape Cod Bay, my opinion changed. Nothing can be more beautiful than this. The breathtaking view of the glimmering ways merging with the bright golden sun creating a golden hue in the clear ocean water. The scenery is just breathtaking.

"It is beautiful," I say softly, still looking at the ocean.

"It's the best thing you can see in the city," Raf smiles.

"Can't disagree with that."

"And as much as I would hate for this to end," he smiles sadly, "But I need to return the chopper to the hospital now."

"It's cool Raf, we've been out here on it for a while," I smile.

Within minutes, he manages to fly back to the stadium and drops me off.

You return to your friends and show them the wonderful pics and views that you took.

“Of course!” After some time, you and Si head to the food court for a refill on food and drinks.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You’re stuck closing off an important deal with Banner Health alone, as Harper was called in for an emergency. You’re walking towards the bar in need of a stiff drink when a familiar waft of vanilla and cinnamon hits you. There she is, her beautiful jet black curled tresses falling below her waist, standing near you ordering something. She doesn’t seem to notice you. You turn your head the other way and ask for a club sandwich. A few minutes later, you receive a tray full of cheeseburgers. Somebody calls you.

“Excuse me sir, but it seems our orders got mixed up.” You turn around to find none other than Arielle. Her violet eyes widen in realisation.

“Dr. Ramsey! Hi, guess the world really is small!”, she responds enthusiastically.

“Some would say too small.” A petite intern who often you see beside her comes and doesn’t notice me.

“Hey Ari! I’ll take these down. You coming? In a minute, Sienna.” The intern leaves.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a baseball type of guy.”

“And you pegged me just right. I’m here to close a deal with Banner reps. They have me in the box suite, trying to butter me up with lobster and wine.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad...”

“I know it might surprise you, but I’m not one for schmoozing.”

“Nooooo... I don’t believe it. The great Ethan Ramsey doesn’t like it when someone butters him up!”, she feigns shock.

“Would you like to join me?, the words slip out before you can react.

Arielle’s PoV:-

You’re surprised. You’d never thought that your medical hero would need your help. He notices your expression and starts explaining, more like rambling.

“You know I’m not much good at speaking to other people, much less idiots but this is a very important deal for Edenbrook. Harper was taking the reins but she was called in for an emergency. One of your traits is that you’re quite persuasive, I was hoping that would help.”, he says.

“Of course.” You follow him to the private entrance which is blocked by a guard.

“Ah, Dr. Ramsey. The Banner Health execs are waiting.” He gestures for you to follow. The guard stops you.

“I’m afraid I’ll need to see some ID, Miss. Alcoholic beverages are being served.” Dr. Ramsey gets irritated.

“I can assure you she’s older than 21.”, he says. The guard insists. Sighing, you pull out your ID. His eyes flash with recognisation.

“I’m extremely sorry miss, but I have to follow protocol.”

“It’s quite alright.” Dr. Ramsey leads you into the private box, where you see a crowd of ‘business’ dressed people lounging on the posh sofas. He picks up two glasses of Malbec and hands one to you.

“Thank you. To deals, negotiations and whatnot!” He rolls his eyes. “To negotiations.”, he toasts.

“This is quite nice.”

“It is, don’t get used to it. I knew many great doctors, all who swore never to make it about the money but did. Don’t let it become about the money.”

“Ha! If only he knew I had millions of dollars in my name and still live like this.”, you think.

“You’re right. It never should become about the money.”, you say truthfully. Two reps saunter up and start sucking up to him. You roll your eyes internally.

“I’m sure there are many opportunities. By the way, let me introduce you to Dr. Arielle Valentine, one of Edenbrook’s newest interns, and one who shows much promise.”, he says.

Your lawyer/advocate instincts kick into action, which includes an amazing first impression.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Valentine but no formalities between us. I have already been impressed upon the very invaluable and precious bond of Banner Health and Edenbrook and hope today will also add on to that. I’m looking forward to the other ways that you have suggested for this partnership, all to help our patients.”, you say.

“Oh my, if this is who Edenbrook is recruiting these days, our partnership is very sure to exceed high expectations.”, they say. Dr. Ramsey nods in approval. They all start negotiating deals, which end in their favour and not-so-good for Edenbrook. Dr. Ramsey looks to you for help.

“Okay, time to pull out all the stops!”, you mentally prepare yourself. You launch into a very persuasive but subtle argument slowly shifting the deal in Edenbrook’s favour. By the time you’re done, the execs have given their consent and you just got them to add a lot of benefits starting from loans to better rates on different services including neurological and cardiac.

“Thank you, Ethan and Arielle for the pleasure. Perhaps we could meet for a round of golf next week to hammer out the fine points.

“Oh hell no!”, you think.

“Oh! Dr. Ramsey is busy next week but how about later tonight?”, you say. They’re about to agree when you drop the bombshell. “Dr. Ramsey and I have an appointment later this week at the shooting range and self-defence center downtown. Don’t worry, I have quite a few guns to be spared, but be warned, I’m quite experienced.”, you say trying not to burst out laughing seeing their shocked faces. You catch Dr. Ramsey which a not-so-well hidden smirk on his face.

“That’s quite alright, we both have made many commitments later this week.”, say frantically say.

“That’s alright, another time then.” A few minutes later, they both leave claiming they had to go. As soon as they leave, you burst out laughing.

“That was quite an act you put on there.”

“Who said it was an act?” He gives you an incredulous look.

“Anyways, it was quite impressive how you shifted the deal in favour to Edenbrook.”, he says questioningly.

You sigh. “Pretty much everyone in my family are lawyers, different areas though. I picked up a lot of skills when watching their hearings.”

“You’re quite good at it. May I ask why you didn’t follow their path.”

“...My godfather was also a doctor. He would tell me stories of how he was able to save lives, make a difference, experience all the love, pain, loss, heartbreak. And I fell in love with it over time. My father wasn’t supportive of it though. I don’t know what went wrong. When I was a child, we had an unbreakable bond. Over time, he buried himself in his cases, that bond slowly evaporating. My brother always knew that I would work in the medical field and was very supportive. When I announced that I had gotten into Johns Hopkins for med school, my father was angry and didn’t support me. He claimed that I had led his hopes up and shattered them, when all along I always was hinting about my dream to become a doctor. We both said hurtful things that a father nor daughter should ever say, that night. After that, I cut off all contact with him.”, you carefully say making sure not to give any clues that Dr. Banerji is your godfather.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You’re shocked. Utterly shocked. You’d never guess that this bright, cheerful, kind intern had such a rough childhood. Especially when your’s made you turn out like this.

“I believe you made the right choice.”, you assure her.

“That means a lot to me.(more than you could ever know)”, she says and whispers.

You both relax and lounge on the comfy sofa, watching the game.

You notice the sun setting as the game ends. “It’s quite late, how will you get home?”

“My friends and I came here by my car, but I told them to take my car when they said they were leaving early. I spent all my money on food so I’ll take a train or something.”

“I’ll drive you home, it’s the least I can do.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s alright. Let’s go.” You lead Arielle to your car, at the same time kicking yourself. “Dear god Ramsey, what the hell is wrong with you? Offering a ride!” You convince yourself that it’s just a thank you but you know it’s because you want to make sure that she gets home safe.

Both of you are exiting the stadium and stop when you see Harper.

“Ethan! Thank god you’re still here. I just received the terms of agreement of our deal with Banner. What did you do?” She notices Arielle.

“Dr. Valentine, what are you doing here?”

“She was here with her friends when I saw and asked for help with negotiating. She was the one who turned the deal into our favour.”, I quickly reply.

“Very impressive Dr. Valentine, but do know that this doesn’t make a difference in the fellowship rankings.”, Harper says.

“I know Chief Emery, anyways I haven’t entered the competition. But thank you though.”, she replies. You’re surprised. You thought she had entered, but you never checked the list of participants. You tell her to wait at the car.

“You’re dropping her off?”, she asks.

“She literally just scored us a very big deal. I’m just thanking her.

“Hmm... Well I’ll see you later. Goodbye, Ethan.” You nod and get in your car. Turning on the engine, you drive.

“Where do you live?”, you ask.

She pulls up a location 20 minutes from here on her phone.

“Why didn’t you enter the fellowship?”

“Did you want me to?”, she asks. You don’t answer.

“My first week was hard enough, with a competition that would jeopardise our friendship, I decided it wasn’t worth the risk. Especially when they were the ones who got me through the first week.”

“I understand. A lot of friendships of mine were severed during my residency due to the competitiveness.” You both talk about leisure topics until you reach a tall apartment complex.

“This is me. Thanks for the ride, Dr. Ramsey.”, with that, she swiftly exits out of the car. You reverse the car and drive to your apartment.

Arielle’s PoV:-

You walk up to the entrance of your building, taking the elevator to your floor. You pull out your keys when Jackie opens the door and lets you in.

“I was wondering when you’d be back.” You smile, taking off your shoes and head into the living room.”

“Hey Ari! Join us for a drink!”, says Elijah.

“Nah, I don’t want a drink. But yes for the company.”

“You all better kiss that fellowship goodbye, cause I just solved that case in record time.”, Landry says.

“You do realise that Arielle was the one who did most of it and we all helped.”, Jackie says.

“Exactly, I looked at the clues and diagnosed the problem!”

You laugh with your friends as they playfully egg each other on. You’re going over today’s events, thinking about all the crazy events, when you realise that you haven’t been true to yourself. “Competing makes them stronger.”, you remember saying. You’ve given advice to other people but you aren’t following your own. You bolt up from the sofa, grabbing your purse and keys and head towards the door.

“What are you doing, Ari?”, Sienna asks.

“You smile replying, “Something I should have done way before.” Your roommates give you a knowing smile as you head towards Edenbrook.

You park your car, rushing through the atrium and up the stairs towards Dr. Ramsey’s office. You a minute to compose yourself and knock.

“Come in.”, his professional but baritone voice replies.

You enter his office to see a minimally decorated desk, covered with papers and patient files. He files them away neatly as you enter. “Rookie. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I want in.”

“I made it clear that the cutoff was midnight.” Your eyes follow his gaze to the wall clock. ‘12:02’

“What makes you think that you’re an exception?”

You steady yourself. “I know I can be a good doctor. I know that I can make a difference in people’s lives, like you do. It just took me a little longer to realise it.” You gulp, wondering if you’ve blown your chance.

He smirks and pull out a long list of names, adding yours at the bottom. “You had me worried there. What changed your mind?”

“I always advised other people to follow their dreams, never give up, to take a leap of faith. I realised I needed to take my own advice.” He nods with approval.

“Good Night, Dr. Valentine.”

“Good Morning, Dr. Ramsey.”, you say, pointing at the same clock ‘12:08’. He shakes his head with amusement.

You head out to your car, the cool autumn breeze in your hair, and drive into the night.

“Bring it on.”

[anika-ann]

The Line between Respectful and Stupid - Pt.2

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader       Word count: 2400

Warnings:  medical blood, swearing, attempt at humour… and starting on the fluff

Summary: A gunshot wound, an exasperated Steve. Yeah, you did great. But it seems the Captain has some aces in his sleeves and you might be in for a pleasant surprise. Also, you’re never taking pain-meds again. Ever. 

Story Masterlist

SHIELD’s idea of a safe house was very different from yours.

For one, you didn’t expect a safe house to look so homey and romantic. You suspected you’d learn better once you’d be inside, but when Captain Rogers parked in front of a nice wood-faced cabin in the middle of nowhere (seriously, you had almost missed the turn he had oh so confidently took, blame it on the blood loss), you were seventy percent sure he had made a mistake and now wanted to ask for directions.

“Alright, let’s get inside. There should be medical supplies, food, anything we could need,” he announced, getting out of the car, circling the vehicle and opening your door before you could win the war with the door handle. “Told you to keep the pressure.”

“Sorry, Sir,” you shot back automatically, not sure what you were apologizing for. It was just the tone he said it in, like a disappointed parent or something.

You followed him to the door as he knocked four times next to the doorframe; one of the wooden desks moved up, nearly making you jump. It revealed a panel with a keyboard and you quickly looked away as Captain Rogers entered the right combination. Now this felt more like SHIELD and less like a vacation residence.

“Shall we?”

This time you actually did jump, quickly following him inside. You passed the welcoming committee in a form of the hangers, stepping inside what seemed to be a common living room. And wow, SHIELD spared no expense on its safe houses.

The room was spacious, wood-faced as well, fluffy carpet in the middle, creating a pad under a coffee table, bordered by an elegant seaweed sofa and two armchairs in the same colour. The thing was, there was no fabulous view on a TV. There was a fireplace instead.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out, not quite realizing you had stopped dead in your tracks so you could blatantly stare.

“Yeah. I know. Tony likes to have his luxury. Sit on the couch?” his voice slowly trailed off as he disappeared god knew where.

You eyed the couch warily, not sure you should be getting near that fancy thing. You were bleeding, for god’s sake and the thing looked like it cost a shit-ton of money.

Also, did he just say ‘Tony’? As in… that Tony?

Captain Rogers reappeared with a frown on his face and an impressive box with medical supplies in his hands.

“Something wrong with the couch?”

“Did you just say ‘Tony’?”

“Yes. Now would you sit down?” he challenged you and really, who were you to oppose Captain America? If he was telling you to sit down and ruin Tony freakin’ Stark’s property, who were you to protest? You shuffled towards the sofa, seating yourself heavily.

You winced when your arm throbbed with the ungraceful landing.

Your commander placed the first aid kit on the table, pulling an armchair to sit opposite and sort of side-by-side with you. You watched his hands open the box as if you were hypnotized, accepting the bottle of painkillers with his firm ‘two pills’, swallowing the dose and ignoring the bloody taste which they took after your hand.

Now what? Was he going to thread the needle for you as well?

You finally found the courage to speak again, self-conscious at the display of care. This wasn’t right. You were supposed to be doing these things. Sure, you were a bit indisposed, but still. It was not common for a commanding officer to treat baby agents in kinder gloves.

“You don’t… you don’t have to do that. It’s not—it’s not required from a captain to treat ordinary agent’s wounds. I don’t want to bother you,” you whispered as he put on gloves, stopping in mid-motion when you reached out for the supplies.

“Keep the pressure,” was his answer and you obediently retreated your hand from his playground and pressed again, trying your best not to faint at the dulling pain. “You know, I really wish SHIELD would draw the line between respect for superiors and stupidity a bit sharper.”

Oh. You gulped at the harsh words, a lump growing in your throat. That sounded more like superior-inferior relationship.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

He must have picked up on something in your voice, because he looked up at your face with intense brilliant blue eyes that widened a fraction.

“Oh, no! No, I’m not calling you stupid!” he hurried, suddenly sounding guilty. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

Superior or not, you had to admit that his obvious discomfort – embarrassment even – was endearing. It took you by surprise. Your voice softened involuntarily, following his example.

“It’s alright, Sir.”

He sighed, indeed threading a needle as if he was about to patch you up. Which he probably was. You weren’t sure what to think of that.

“See, this I what I’m calling stupid. Hierarchy, system, it’s important, following rules and orders… but the training is focused on it too much. Clearly, you wouldn’t be able to stitch it yourself and if you were, it would take longer, which would equal bigger blood loss. It’s like they are trying to kill people’s common sense.”

You thought about his words, your mind racing as his eyes focused on the growing stain under your palm. You couldn’t believe you just heard Captain Follow-The-Rules say this.

He reached out to your arm with scissors in his hand, hesitating only inches away. His gaze found yours, blue shining with severity.

“May I?”

You didn’t dare to blink under his gaze seeking answers in your eyes, effectively making you lost in his. Jesus, what was he doing to you? How? And was he seriously asking for permission?

“Of course, Sir.”

You eased the pressure, making space for his hands and his surprisingly gentle fingers felt around the fabric before deciding it did need to be removed and he used the scissors, clean cut from the end of your sleeve to the torso of the tactic gear since the injury was very high.

The torn fabric fell apart, revealing a bit more skin than you would think was necessary, but you were not about to complain – especially since it wasn’t anything incriminating.

“Should have bought you dinner…” he muttered under his breath and you couldn’t help but chuckle. He shot you a horrified glance at the sound.

“Oh. I wasn’t supposed to hear that…. Sorry, Captain.”

“I think we’re past ‘Captain’ and ‘Sir’, Agent. It’s Steve,” he offered softly, and again, who were you to deny him? “And my ma’ raised me right, alright? In fact, I should have bought you flowers, too.”

As the moment was getting more surreal each second, his handsome face displaying what could be an attempt of a smile only emphasized by his words, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“They didn’t warn me you’ll be funny, S-- Steve.”

“Oh? What did they warn you about? And this is gonna hurt, sorry.”

He poured a fair share of disinfectant into the wound and you would swear your arm was about to burn down. You flinched back with curses falling off your lips and tears in your eyes.

“Shit, shit, SHIT-“

“Sorry. Doesn’t look as bad as I thought it would though. Not exactly a graze, but not straight through the middle either. And I’m waiting.”

You knew what he was trying to do with the question. He wanted to distract you. And to be honest, his unreadable expression, his sharp jaw and heavenly eyes would be working on their own, but you humoured him. After all, he was being so nice to you, so nice, sweet even….

Through your gritted teeth, you strained several words. “Well. That you’re a… a hard-ass and a tight-ass.”

His eyebrow shot up nearly to his hairline and the expressiveness surprised you enough to breathe in and out.

“That so? Gonna start with the stitches now.”

You forced more air to your lungs, bracing for the pain, tears in your eyes. You tried to focus on what else you had heard about him, words spilling from your mouth.

“Yep. He hates when you don’t follow his orders. Harper here left his position the other day and Rogers looked like he was about to kill him on spot, they said.”

“Oh, Harper. I remember him. It was a stupid move to leave his position. He could have died – or get his teammates killed. So… I admit I might have been hard on him. But it was for a good reason.”

“You remember him?” you blurted out, taken aback.

“Yes. Black hair, scar above his left eyebrow, right? Tall, not so graceful all the time.”

“Huh—Shit-“ you cursed when he prodded a tender area – well, more tender area than the rest, which meant something, okay.

“Sorry. What else do they say about me?”

“That you’re either a— an asshole full of yourself or really crazy since you supposedly yelled at Fury the other day.”

His lips twitched, the movement fascinating you. “I didn’t— it wasn’t yelling. We… had a little disagreement.”

“Uh-huh.” You weren’t convinced, but decided it was best not to probe.

“Anything else?”

You huffed. If it wasn’t for his extremely focused face, you would think you two were just chatting over a coffee. And for the pain. There was a blinding yet dull pain throbbing through your right upper limb – a limb that was shockingly still attached.

“That you’re a badass. Naturally.”

“They really use the A word when talking about me a lot, don’t they? One would think about himself he’s an ass, hearing all that,” he joked lightly, and wow, Captain America was able to do that? It wasn’t for the first time! And he said the A word! Maybe it was Steve Rogers coming out to play? An actual person?

“Nah. I’m sure that the tight-ass thing is just ‘cause it is so tight…”

Steve’s hands froze in the middle of doing a stitch, his whole body tensing. You were mortified when you went over what you had just said.

“Oh god, I did not say that.”

Captain America, or Steve Rogers, whatever, was a good man though. He just cleared his throat and continued his work. Except there was a bit of a smirk on his lips that felt nearly cocky. For some reason, there was a hint of embarrassment too, a touch of crimson in the tips of his ears that definitely hadn’t been there before.

“Oh no, go on. The pain-meds apparently make you very honest. Tell me more.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, that was not-“ you stuttered, letting the wrong – right? – addressing slip in again and he sighed.

“Relax… and I mean it, relax. I can’t finish these stitches it you’re tense like this…. Good.”

You watched him for few moments, silent. You hadn’t been lying when saying all of the things that were rumoured in the halls of SHIELD about him. But you couldn’t help but being stunned by the man in front of you, the picture so different from what you had expected it to be.  

“Thank you for doing this,” you whispered sincerely, rewarded by a small smile.

“Well, what kind of a gentleman would I be to let you bleed out? Not to mention blood is hard to get off the expensive cushions and floor, so…”

“Alright, I’m adding ‘smartass’ to the list of your rumoured features,” you decided, grinning right back at him.

How was he putting you at ease? He was… he was… him. The legend. And yet… the sound of his laughter echoed in your heart right now and you saw nothing but a simple man, laying down all of his shiny armour. It was refreshing and freeing.

You wondered if it made him breathe easier too.

“I guess you’re not wrong there. Here, all done,” he announced, placing a bandage over the rather neat stitches. Huh, artistic. Any other hidden talents?

“Thank you, S- Steve.”

“My pleasure.”

He stood up, stripping his gloves and tossing them in a nearest trash can before walking back to you, locking his once again serious eyes with yours.

“Why don’t you lie down? There’s a bedroom right there. Come on, I’ll help you.”

You let him support you from your healthier side, grateful he was there when your head spun with the movement.  

“I’m bloody and sweaty,” you mumbled absently, leaning onto the wall of muscle. Oh yeah, there was no other way, you could be ashamed later. At least you didn’t explicitly felt around his abs and pecs with your fingers. Or the huge arms – and they were calling out for you to touch them, alright.  

Just… shut up, thoughts.

“Good thing I won’t be the one doing the laundry then,” he hummed, walking you to another room. Your eyelids felt heavy all of sudden when you saw the king-size bed almost in your reach.

“Thanks— wait, where are you gonna sleep if I take the bed? There’s another one somewhere, right? You won’t have to sleep on the couch? ‘Cause I don’t think that you’ll fit there with the shoulders of yours. They’re like really, really broad – oh geez, I need to stop talking.”

Your words slurred into a mumble, but he seemed to decode your cryptic speech, because he chuckled, helping you to land on the bed – not before pulling the covers away so he could later tuck you in.

“I won’t sleep anywhere. I have to wait for the response to our distress signal… and watch over you, because I think I might have overdosed you with painkillers and I don’t want you to stop breathing while I’m having a nap.”

You thought you frowned; you weren’t sure though, losing the control over your muscles gradually. “Shit, I‘m sorry to keep you up. You’d deserve a nap.”

“I’m good. You, on the other hand, were shot. Now get some rest,” he sounded as if he was smiling. You smiled automatically at the idea as his light footsteps faded away.

“…hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for saving my life. And… ya’ know. Taking care of me. I know you don’t have to do that,” you whispered with the last remains of strength you had. But this you needed to say.

The man in question sighed.

“I really do. Goodnight. Feel better.”

You were out before you heard the door click shut.

Part 3

I know the fluff is a bit bloody, but… there is fluff, right? 

If by any chance, anyone wants to be added to tags, let me know. 

Tags:

@mermaidxatxheart​

[gem-quest]

[ SIDEQUEST 03. — INFERNA & NEDDY ]

neddy doll by @bebemoon​ on urstyle! story is an optional read, as it’s just a continuation/spinoff that fanfan & i felt like writing <333

in which neddy and inferna share a single brain cell ;DDD

It wasn’t long after Ace had left when Inferna got a response from Neddy: let’s meet up!

And there was a picture attached, to help Inferna navigate the snowy forest.

Inferna sighed, swiping her inventory closed as she prepared to go over to the copse of pine trees that Neddy had indicated. She had a few bars of chocolate; she was thinking of melting them in order to make a gooey approximation of hot chocolate (it was a shame that she didn’t have any marshmallows with her, though). And even if they couldn’t find anything dry enough to make a fire with, that was a non-issue with Inferna’s totally swaggy fire-mage powers.

I hate the fucking cold, Inferna thought to herself, disgruntled, as she trudged through the snow, keeping half an eye out for any other Yetis who were in the mood to terrorize some rando who was dumb enough to have her hair dyed a glittery bright orange. Even in the real world. Winter as a concept can go fuck itself.

Inferna finally arrived, about ten minutes later. “Sup,” she greeted, pushing through branches and pine needles until she was also standing in the clearing.

She gave Neddy a once-over. The Moonstone player had been wearing her signature flowy fabric-y thingies when they were separated, which Inferna would never ever wear in her life because 1) she would freeze to fucking death, and 2) she would tangle herself in all the floating bits of wispy cloth and fall on her face like a scrub. But now, Neddy had somehow copped herself some kind of...ice armor? Pretty ice armor, too.

But, no, there was also something else that was different...

“Hey!” Inferna said, abruptly. “What the hell happened to your hair?!”

Neddy looked miserable. “Be real with me,” she replied. “Is it the geriatric travesty I think it is?” 

Inferna scratched her head, consideringly. Neddy’s lilac hair had somehow turned itself white - did she use a hair dye potion, or something?

“It’s...definitely something,” she said, then grinned, picking her way through the snow until she was standing by the other girl (waving hi to cute lil’ smol Jack as she did so. He looked more like a puppy and less like a dragon, when he was shrunken down like this!).

“Okay, yeah, it looks wack. What’d you do to it?!?!”

Neddy emitted a small plaintive sound. “I don’t know,” she whimpered. “It’s something to do with this-” 

She pulled out a crystally ice dagger. Inferna frowned.

Shaking her newly-white head, the other player threw her free hand up, clueless. “I pulled it out of a tree and now I look like this!” 

“Huh,” Inferna said, leaning closer, curious. “Can I see?”

And, because Inferna was - and one cannot stress this enough - a total fucking idiot, she reached out to take the crystalline dagger from Neddy’s hands.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! What is it doing to me?!” she shrieked, pulling her hand away from the dagger.

Too late: there was already a thin veneer of ice creeping up her legs, over her boots. It felt - cold, like all those times rainwater had soaked through her shoes while she trudged to class without an umbrella because her 0 IQ ass could never remember to check the weather. She frantically shook one leg, then the other, trying to somehow get the ice to just go away and leave her alone...!!!

“Oh!” Neddy shrieked, too. “Oh my god!” 

Inferna watched as Neddy, who was just as horrified as Inferna, immediately dropped the dagger into the snow and tried to help her in the only way she knew how- by breathing warmth onto her. Great misty plumes of breath billowed into the wintry air, doing- as one might imagine- fuck all to actually stop the ice-spread. And the ice was enveloping her entire body, like the scene with Anna in Frozen!

“Why do I have to be an ice sculpture, I hate the cold, why couldn’t I be a cake sculpture instead, at least I’d be able to eat my way out,” Inferna wailed miserably, lifting her hands up to watch as the ice hardened over her fingers. “This is bullshit!”

She swung her gaze wildly around the clearing. “D’you know if Jack can do anything that melts ice???” she said to Neddy. “I mean, he’s a dragon, right? Dragons can do cool shit?”

“He breathes poison!” her friend screeched, anxiously flapping her hands. “That definitely will not help!”

“Why can’t he breathe fire?!” Inferna also screeched. “How am I supposed to use my Tearoom coupons for free scones if I’m a fucking ice sculpture!!!”

...wait a second. Breathe...fire? 

Inferna could do that, right? Well, she couldn’t breathe fire, but she could still summon fire…? Because, you know. Totally swaggy fire-mage powers???

Oh. Duh, she thought, belatedly.

So, Inferna raised her ice-covered hands again, and concentrated. The layer of cold that had spread over basically her entire body dampened her powers a bit, but they still worked.

After a few seconds, her hands began to warm up, and they started emitting a faint orange glow. A few more moments passed, and the ice had begun to crack and melt.

“Hey! Shit, I think it’s working!” Inferna exclaimed, holding up her palms for Neddy to see.

Neddy clutched her chest, looking just as relieved as Inferna felt. “Oh, thank god,” she exhaled. 

When the ice over her hands was gone, Inferna continued melting the ice off her body with the small flame hovering over her palms, grimacing as the frigid water soaked through her clothes. Once the ice was all gone, she grabbed her player-plexus and swiped open her inventory, dragging out about half a dozen H-rank “hair dryer” potions.

She uncorked one of the glass vials and dumped the gaseous contents over her head. There was a poof! of lavender smoke as the glass vial shimmered out of existence. 

Inferna felt...drier than she had been, but not 100% back to normal. Which made sense - the potions were specifically made to dry hair, after all. She continued dumping potions over her head until she was completely dry, then turned to face Neddy again.

“So, what’s up with the new look? How come you didn’t turn into an ice sculpture???”

“Trust me, if I knew I’d tell you,” said Neddy. She bent down to very cautiously take the dagger up again. Inferna watched as she stood up straight, unharmed, and frowned down at the weapon. “I don’t know.” 

Inferna frowned, too. “Well, do you want some hair dye potion to try to turn your hair back? I have a ton.”

And then she giggled, just a little bit. “But that white-haired look is still pretty great, I gotta say.”

Neddy made grabby-hands, and Inferna laughed again. “Please!” Neddy exclaimed, so Inferna pulled her player-plexus up to snipe a quick picture of Neddy with her white hair - grinning the entire time - before she swiped open her inventory, scrolling over to her H-rank cosmetic potions. 

“What color do you want? I’m not sure if I have your exact lilac color, but I have some other pretty purples.” And she held her plexus out so that Neddy could see.

“Ah. Well, the palest purple you have will do,” Neddy answered. 

Inferna squinted at her purple hair dye potions. She had a very light, washed-out violet-indigo color, so she dragged it out and examined the glass bottle thoughtfully, gently swirling the semi-gaseous substance inside. “You wanna try this one?” she asked.

The other player nodded tentatively. “Sure. Let’s- let’s try it.” 

Inferna shrugged. “Aight, here goes,” and she upended the contents of the glass bottle over Neddy’s head.

There was a flash of purple smoke and silver sparkles as the hair dye potion settled over Neddy’s hair. The bottle disappeared, magicked away into nothingness, and Inferna switched her plexus camera function into selfie mode and passed it over to Neddy so that she could see what she looked like.

“You think it worked?”

With her lips in a line, Neddy turned her head this way and that, getting a good look at the colour from every conceivable angle. Then: “It’s a little bluer than before, but...yeah. Yeah, it worked. It’s better than the white, at least.” 

Inferna grinned. “Lit! We should go find somewhere to sit down, then. I want to make hot chocolate.”

She took her plexus back, dragging out a tin can filled with sugar cubes that had a small tray attached to the inside, filled with Inferna sauce - sort of like the set-up for the Nutella to-go thingies that Inferna loved - and carefully dipped a sugar cube in the sauce before tossing it at Jack.

“Errrrpf,” the dragon purred, and Inferna beamed at him. She leaned down to scratch him behind his ears, then scooped him up in her arms, her player-plexus in her free hand.

After she was ready, she said, “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Right behind,” answered Neddy, and they set off at a brisk pace (well, as brisk of a pace as she could get in the stupid six inches of snow covering the ground), Inferna hugging Jack to her chest and letting his head settle on her shoulder. They walked for a few minutes before Inferna found a small clearing with a few large-ish, flat rocks that they could comfortably sit on. 

She brushed the snow off of them and plopped down, patting the spot next to her for Neddy and letting Jack settle in her lap before she started scrolling through her inventory.

“Do you think you have any water or milk or something in your inventory, for hot chocolate?” Inferna asked. “I definitely have the chocolate we’d need.”

In response, Neddy swiped into her inventory, humming a question. Inferna watched her scroll for several seconds before stopping on an item. 

“Dragon’s milk is all I have,” she said, a small wrinkle forming between her brows. “Don’t suppose that would work?” 

Inferna paused, and considered. “Will it give us cancer?” she asked, dragging out two cups and the chocolate she bought the other day.

Neddy blinked and looked back at the Plexus screen as if it would provide the answer. “Er, not- no, I don’t think so,” she replied. 

Inferna gave a nonchalant half-shrug. “Okay, let’s try it then,” she said, taking the chocolate out and setting half of it in one of the cups. She summoned a ball of fire and balanced it on her open palm, holding the cup above the flame and waiting for the chocolate to melt, occasionally putting out the fire to use her hand to stir the chocolate.

Once the chocolate had turned somewhat gooey, Inferna threw Neddy a glance. “You have the milk?”

In response, the other player produced the little glass stoppered bottle of milk from the Plexus. A cartoonish blue dragon was emblazoned on the item.

Inferna grinned. “Pour some in?”

And once Neddy had filled the cup the rest of the way with the dragon’s milk, Inferna let the hot chocolate sit over the flame for a few more minutes, stirring the entire time, before she extinguished the fireball. “Ta-da!” she exclaimed, handing the hot chocolate to Neddy. “Tell me how it tastes? And ooh - be careful, it’s hot.”

Neddy accepted the cup gratefully and blew at the billowing heat coming off of the mug. She took a sip and hummed. “It’s not bad, actually!” she said, a note of excitement in her voice. “Can’t even taste the...dragon.” 

Inferna quickly made another cup of hot chocolate for herself, and took a sip. “Mmm, you’re right,” she replied. “It just tastes like regular hot chocolate.”

She grinned. “Good to know that dragon milk has its many uses!”

They sat in silence for a while, drinking the hot chocolate - with Inferna feeding Jack sauce-covered sugar cubes every few minutes or so, to the dragon’s delight - and Inferna had just polished off the last of her drink, her player-plexus already in her hand as she began scrolling through her inventory to see what else she could make, before a Yeti burst through the trees and into the clearing. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Inferna shouted, as the Yeti roared and advanced. “Can’t we ever get some peace and quiet in this damn game?!?!”

Inferna jumped up - displacing Jack as she did so - and pulled one of her flaming daggers out, bringing her free hand up and firing off a quick succession of mini-fireballs at the stupid Yeti. A few ash-gray spots bloomed over its torso, the fur smoking and charring as it came into contact with fire, but the attack didn’t do much to slow it down.

“What now?” Inferna heard Neddy shout, and when she whirled around to face her, the panic was evident on her face.

Inferna shot a bigger fireball at the Yeti. “Uh, I don’t know?!?!?!” Inferna yelled in response, shoving Neddy out of the way as the Yeti responded with a blast of icy magic. “Do you have any ignitium potions??? I’ve already used mine up!” 

They were behind the Yeti, now. Neddy swiped quickly through her Plexus inventory.

“Er, it’s not something I usually collect!” she answered, evidently coming up with nil. 

“Fuck,” Inferna said, with feeling. Jack scurried over the snow to hide behind Neddy’s legs, chittering with distress.

The Yeti was turning around, but slowly. It gave Inferna enough time to lob a fireball at its eye, which set off a cacophony of obnoxiously loud roars.

A thought occurred to her, just as the Yeti reached out to grab for them. Inferna darted to the left, shoving Neddy to the right, and the Yeti's comically large fingers closed over empty air. “You think your weird ice dagger thingy will do anything?” Inferna yelled over her shoulder as she held both her palms up, blasting fire in its direction.

Out of the corner of her eye, Inferna could see Neddy quickly feeling around her person before coming up with the dagger, which had been tucked into a special slot in one of her gauntlets. Hand visibly quaking, she handled it blade-down; like an icepick, rather than a melee weapon. 

“I, er,” she called nervously, “just give me a second, okay?” 

Inferna gritted her teeth. “Make it quick!” she shouted back. 

Inferna continued to batter the Yeti with flames, and it was doing something, because she could tell that it was slowing down. But at this rate, Inferna would run out of steam long before the Yeti did.

Shaking her head, frustrated, Inferna yelled a warning in Neddy’s direction - “You better be ready with that stupid ice sculpture dagger!” - before she quickly darted below one of the Yeti’s swinging arms and slashed the Yeti in the gut with her flaming daggers.

“Now!” she yelled at Neddy, flicking her daggers away and bringing her hands up to shoot jets of fire into the Yeti’s face. She gritted her teeth again as Neddy stumbled a step forward - and seemed to hesitate a moment. It looked like she was gripping the dagger so tightly her knuckles were white. 

A heartbeat passed, then another. 

“Hurry the fuck up!” Inferna yelled again, sweat trickling down the side of her face, despite the chilly temperatures, and she watched as Neddy shut her eyes, breathing out. 

Then, Neddy shifted. Her courage became suddenly evident in her posture. Her eyes flew open and then- 

She leapt...

...and plunged her ice dagger thingymabob into the Yeti’s back. 

“Fucking finally!” Inferna exclaimed as ice began to form over the Yeti’s fur. She shot off one last bit of fire before she threw herself away from the Yeti, landing on her butt in the snow.

She looked up, panting, as the ice continued to spread across the expanse of the Yeti’s torso, down to its legs, up its arms. The Yeti didn’t seem to like it one bit - it continued to roar and thrash, even as the ice solidified over its neck and head, rendering it immobile.

All was still in the clearing.

Then, Jack climbed into Inferna’s lap, squawking something in dragonese, and nudged at the tin can of sugar cubes that had spilled out of her satchel in the melee.

“Holy shit,” Inferna breathed out, automatically feeding Jack one of the sugar cubes. She re-directed her gaze to Neddy, and grinned wildly. “That worked! That actually fucking worked!” 

Neddy appeared just as stunned at her own handiwork. Her mouth hung open. “Wow,” she muttered.

Inferna got up and gathered her things - some of which had been scattered all over the clearing, thanks to the stupid Yeti - before scooping Jack up again and making her way over to Neddy. She punched her in the arm, playfully. “That was badass!”

The other player’s face unstuck at that, and she grinned, putting the heel of her palm to her forehead in awe. “I’ve never done anything like that before,” Neddy laughed. “Wow!” 

Inferna grinned back at her. “Come on. Grab your ice dagger and let’s get out of here, before the Yeti figures out how to escape!”

[timelock97]

Love Without A Name

Chapter Four: A Bottle of Wine and Friendly Banter

Word Count: 1686

Masterlist

Warning: Language, Sexual references

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why did I invite you people over again?” I groan as I set the bowl of popcorn, chocolate, and chips onto the coffee table, glancing at the five people sitting around the room. “I’m supposed to be packing what’s left of my apartment.”

Celine reaches out for the bottle of wine that is haphazardly tucked under my arm, giggling. “Because you have to go over what is left of your to-do list for the wedding and needed people to talk to?”

Mae rolls her eyes and grabs a Capri-Sun from off the coffee table, locking eyes with me. “I think we were supposed to help, but more people showed up and brought food, movies, and alcohol. So those plans flew out the window?”

Alicia laughs, her back pressed against Graham’s side while they attempt to share a bean bag chair. “I think you needed the night off anyways, (Y/N).”

“Agreed, you seem to be a little stressed,” Graham nods, leaning forward as Celine fills his glass. “So, let’s all sit and watch these rom-coms and drink wine.”

I roll my eyes, noticing Vivian, who has returned from the bathroom, go to grab the wine bottle out of Celine’s hand. “Oh, no way in hell are you having another glass, Vivian. I don’t have an extra bed for you to crash on.” I tease, plopping down between Celine and Mae, my best friends.

“I only had a glass from the last one!” Vivian laughs from her spot, reaching for the wine anyways before taking her previous place in the arm chair. “Besides, Wyatt and I have drank more before and only get a little tipsy-”

“That’s because you guys have a high tolerance,” Celine giggles, her legs falling across my lap.

“‘Tisn’t a bad thing,” Vivian giggles.

Mae leans over and grabs the list off the table, “Okay, how about we go over that list so you can relax for the night, yeah?”

“Hit me!” I yell, letting out a squeal when Graham, Vivian, and Celine all throw pillows at me. “Guys I have a glass in my hand with red wine, that could have ended horribly! I still can get back my deposit for keeping the apartment in tip-top shape!”

“But it didn’t, did it. Plus, you told us to hit you so it’s your fault.” Celine giggles beside me, letting out a small 'hey’ when I push her legs off of my lap, only for her to replace them in their previous place.

“Fuck off, Cel.”

“Okay,” Mae states shaking the paper to straighten it out in her hands. “Catering?”

“Called this morning,” Celine states, making me laugh.

“Florist?”

“Taken care of,” I hum.

“Dress, including the latest fitting?”

“Bought and had my first fitting a two months ago. I have another fitting next week to do final fixes.” I state smiling at Mae.

“Wait, wait, can I see your dress, (Y/N)? Please, please, pleeeeeeeease?” Graham whines, folding his hands together and pouting his lip.

Giggling, I grab my phone off the table, also seeing that he had texted me a simple '2 more weeks, my love.’ I open the photo gallery and click on the latest photo of my wedding gown. The gown was not something I ever thought I’d wear. Tea cup length, with lace covering my chest and waist. The sleeves were off the shoulder, causing a straight neckline, and went down just below the elbow. The skirt was fluffy, and soft, the perfect fit for a late spring/early summer wedding.

“Baaaaaabe! You look stunning-”

“That looks beautiful on you, (Y/N)!” Alicia coos, taking the phone from Graham’s hand.

“What are you going to do for shoes?” Graham asks excitedly, bringing his glass to his lips.

“Not heels,” I giggle, “I want to be able to walk the next day.”

“Who went with you?”

Both Celine and Mae’s hands pop into the air. “Yeah, these two came with me. Also, both of their mom’s and Mae’s little sister Joyce. It,” I take the chance to swallow the lump that attempts to form in my throat before continuing, “it really meant a lot for them to come since my mom… wouldn’t.” The room is silent for a few seconds, they knew, and it had been hard not to call my family in excitement, or in some cases annoyance, whenever something happened.

Mae’s hand falls on my shoulder, squeezing it under her petite hand. “We were happy to be there, and you can thank Joyce for finding the dress-”

I let out a laugh, “Chose the complete opposite of what I was looking for-”

“But still looked beautiful!” Celine smiles, leaning into my side. “Now, back to the list!”

“Right!” Mae shakes the paper again, “legal stuff? (Y/N), what does that even mean?”

“I had to do a shit ton of paper work since I would be leaving the country. It was a mess.”

“You’re gonna come back, right? Visit all your favorite people?” Graham asks, tilting his head to the side while swirling the wine in his glass.

“Oh yeah, I can’t just leave and pretend I don’t have anyone here. It would drive me insane!” I bring my glass to my lips, sweet but tart sliding past my tongue, staining it red. “I’ll try and plan when I am coming so we can all get together again.”

“It’ll be a party,” Mae smiles, looking back at the list before pursuing her lip and looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “The next few are not in your handwriting-”

“Hazel,” I groan, tilting my head back against the couch in annoyance, “she asked to look at my list and said she added a few things before I left on Friday. What did she add?”

“Uh, and this is a quoted phrase, 'a day to find your sexiest self, lingerie that make you look like a beautiful, but boss ass bitch,’ and,” her eyes squint at the paper in confusion, “'a bottle of lu-” My eyes fly open and I snatch the paper from Mae’s hands, crumpling it and throwing it across the room.

“She’s a savage!” Vivian cackles as the group laughs as I give Mae an apologetic smile.

Celine lets out a soft, high-pitched hum, downing the last bit of her wine. Her hand is in the air as if to tell me to 'hold up a sec.’ She sets her glass down before standing, “That reminds me! I have something for you in my bag!”

“What did I get myself into?” I yell, looking at where her retreating body danced down to my room where everyone’s personal belongings had disappeared to when they first arrived. “And you remember that this bean is a virgin right?”

Celine comes bounding into the room with a single, long clothing box. “I had the luxury to be given the job of finding this. Hazel says she has a surprise for you too, but you won’t get it till another day. So, you can start with these pieces- oh, and I had Vivian help me find them too-”

“You’re welcome!”

My eyes look between everyone else in the room, who are looking at me expectedly. I sigh, a small laugh escaping at the end. I untie the gold ribbon and unravel the box. Once opened, my laughter grows a little louder. The card, that is definitely in Celine’s handwriting, says “IOU a soon-to-be favorite set of lingerie.” I pull the tissue paper away, only to replace it with a beet red face, “I am not wearing this-”

“C'mon, pull it out-” Celine giggles, her phone in hand, most likely recording.

“No way in hell, there isn’t even any fabric! It’s just all, strings!”

“It can’t be that bad, right?” Alicia looks at me. I raise an eyebrow at her before sighing and lifting the piece out, making the room fill with gasps and laughter.

“It’s not even-”

“What is that?!”

“How do you get that even on?!”

“That won’t even cover you-”

“Ya’ll need instructions to put that damn thing on-”

Once the laughter dies down, Celine shakes her head, “That’s not it, by the way.” A small 'thank God’ falls past my lips, “That was a gimmick. I asked the lady for something to prank you with, did it work?”

“I fucking hate you!” I laugh, throwing the ribbons at her. She only giggles and motions me to continue looking in the box. At the bottom is a silk robe, it probably only reached just below the butt, but it was light and soft to the touch. I turn it in my hands and notice the golden embroidered initials. The first and middle letters were mine but the second was marked with an H. “H?”

Celine tilts her head in confusion. “What?” She tugs the robe from my hand and gasps. “They weren’t supposed to put on the last initial! Hazel is gonna kill me!”

“Not if she doesn’t know! I won’t tell her!” I reason with a small smile.

“You had one job,” Graham laughs.

“It’s not my fault they didn’t listen to me!”

“It’s fine, babes.” I giggle, taking the robe back from her and smiling at it. “I love it.”

“Try it on, (Y/N)!” Graham states, Alicia nodding.

I giggle as I take it back from Celine, standing. I tug the oversized sweatchirt I was wearing over my head before replacing it with the robe. The room filling with soft gasps and 'ooos’. “God, I love this. Guys,” I look around the room, bringing my hands to my face to cover my smile. “I’m getting married!” The room fills with cheers, everyone giggling. I sigh, shrugging off the fabric and laying it over the arm of the couch. “How about we switch gears and we go get dinner, then we can go and, I don’t know, go to PetSmart and play with puppies.”

“I’ll drive, since everyone has had at least a little bit of wine,” Mae laughs.

The group smiles excitedly, moving slowly around to get ready to leave. Thank God for these dorks, he knows I would be lost without them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! Reblog and comment!

@revenantwriting | @bellagrayson-wayne | @jackiehollanderr | @snowxbarryxendgame | @let-me-luve-you | @mybitchborky | @linnyalou | @fanficscuziranout | @literallytrashhhhhh | @akweenbitch | @infinitycaprogers

Chapter Five coming Thursday!

[twodaysintojune]

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

Supernatural, Debriel, Warnings-None

Find me at AO3

If Dean had an equivalent of Sam’s Halloween hate, more often than not that hated event was Christmas.

And to be fair, growing up listening to joyous songs of peace on earth right after cleaning your father's wounds from a salt and burn, watching movies of people sharing gifts under a massive Christmas tree in a dingy motel room whose only pristine asset was the sink he had just cleaned himself and then growing up trying to make it up for Sam and give him some sort of celebratory feeling…

Yeah, that could definitely make Christmas a detested event for anyone.

Which is why he thought it was kind of stupid to be out here on December 23rd in the mild Kansas cold, waiting for Sam and Jack to finally pick up a tree. Not that he complained about it, with time he had learnt to tone his feelings down and go along everything his people said. He was watching them, hands in his pockets, listening to the jarring Alvin and the Chipmunks styled carols booming out of a speaker that he was sure he would utterly destroy if he had the chance to get anywhere near it when he felt more than saw Gabriel approach him.

“You look like you're having as much fun as a man picking up his last meal.”

Dean snorted, count on Gabriel to be able to tell his mood swings. He had become even better than Sam on it and that was saying something.

“Naw, I was just thinking how on earth I'm gonna tie that monster to Baby without giving her a scratch.”

Cas had joined the other two with an assistant of the lot to help them wrap the tree up. After some struggling by all of them, Jack approached Dean beaming.

“All set?”

“Yeah”

“Well then, let's go kid.”

The trip to the bunker had been good, changing the background music to the good ol’ Zep definitely did wonders to his mood so when he helped everyone get the tree and all the other decorations they had bought into the bunker’s library, Dean was smiling once more. Still, he managed to leave everyone there to hide in the kitchen and prepare some mulled wine for the first time ever.

Doing a new recipe helped him focus his attention on anything else than more bitter than sweet memories but first he had to open the bottles and pour the wine into a pot. After finishing the first task, he saw a sachet of spices he had been about to prepare appear out of nowhere on his hand.

“Thanks Gabe.”

He dropped the sachet and proceeded to add less cups of sugar than what the recipe claimed, knowing that it was easier to add on than to take away. Gabriel, who was suddenly by his side, moved to turn on the oven while Dean cleaned the few instruments he had used and then went to the counter to finish preparing the turkey that was already lying on a cooking pan. Curious, Dean glanced over him and took a look at the humongous bird he definitely didn’t recall buying.

“Where did you even get that from?”

“I may not have much grace but I can spare a bit for the good stuff.”

Dean just snickered while he moved to take the eggs and milk out of the fridge and add another big pot on the stove for the eggnog, nudging Gabriel to leave some space on the counter for him. It was odd, this homely feeling he was getting dancing around the kitchen with Gabriel. It was almost like this was the way things were always meant to be. It took Dean a while to notice Gabriel was humming ‘Hark! The Herald Angels Sing’ but when it finally hit him he couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“Were you ever even jealous of your half brother?”

Gabriel turned to look at Dean a bit startled and stopped his turkey filling task for a moment.

“Not really... I was kind of curious and a bit upset you know, since dad had forbidden us to bang with them and then he shows up and tells me I gotta give this girl Mary the news ‘cause he was being too much of a coward to show up himself after she told him she was not gonna give up on Joseph...” Gabriel paused for a long enough time fiddling with the spoon in his hands “...that should have been a dead giveaway about what he would do after Lucifer’s fall”

Dean moved to place his hand on the archangel’s shoulder.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault that he left.”

If he didn’t know better, Dean could have sworn he had seen Gabriel’s eyes glisten for a second.

“Anyway, all that stopped after JJ was born, he really was a cute baby… Too bad he had to grow up.”

Dean laughed heartily.

“Yeah, I get you on that. Sammy was the cutest when he was a kid. If you think his puppy eyes can kill you now you should have seen him then.”

The rest of the day went by with the bunker filling itself with the delicious scent of baked goods that Gabriel naturally did for Dean’s delight and the mulled wine. Despite not feeling like it, Dean had helped hang out the leftover garlands and was preparing some of the open bedrooms for Jody and the girls, who were invited for the celebration by Sam when he stepped into the library with some dusty rags at the same time as Gabriel, who was bringing snacks for everyone.

“Stop!”

They halted when Jack placed his hand in front against them.

“You’re under the mistletoe! You have to kiss!”

Both men looked upwards to find that, indeed, there was a small bundle of mistletoe hanging from a decorated red ribbon right over them. Still confused for the abrupt interruption of their activities, they turned to each other before going back to Jack.

“Uhm, I don’t think this is the way that works kiddo.”

“No, you have to do it! Sam and Castiel already have.”

Dean and Gabriel groaned while glancing their respective brothers, who were now sheepishly hiding behind some of the tree’s branches. Dean could have sworn Sam’s ears were three shades redder than what they should’ve been.

“Seriously? You had to go there now? On Christmas of all times!?”

“We had to! It was the mistletoe!”

Both Gabriel and Dean looked at them in judgemental disbelief for just a second. Then Gabriel sighed and placed the tray with sandwiches and beer on the table before turning towards Dean.

“Don’t worry Dean-o, this ain’t gonna hurt a bit.”

Dean was about to retort when Gabriel’s hands found his neck and pulled his face closer. He felt Gabriel’s lips closing on his with a softness he never would have expected of the guy. Dean knew little about love but he was certain that there had been something more caring in that brief connection than what the occasion would have required.

Gabriel parted almost as fast as he had approached him.

“There, happy now?”

Jack just beamed at his uncle, like he had done tons of awesome things to make the world a better place. Swiftly, both men made way to keep on with their own tasks. When the night arrived and Sam had disappeared with Cas in his bedroom, Dean gave a last round on the library, where he found Jack sitting in front of the tree on the carpet and a bunch of floor pillows he suspected Gabriel had magicked looking in awe at how the lights turned on and off in random patterns.

“You gonna stay here all night?”

Jack turned to Dean with eyes shining in glee. Dean just sighed and went to grab one of the comfy lap blankets, throwing it on Jack’s shoulders.

“If you go back to your room remember to turn off the lights.”

“I will.” The kid stared a second at the man “Dean...? I love you.”

Dean smiled gently and made way to fuss Jack’s hair.

“Love ya too kid. Good night.”

“Good night.”

On his way to his bedroom he was joined by Gabriel.

“Sooo… I got this xxx-mas video right here, you wanna watch it at my room?”

Dean grabbed the case of the video, a latina, an asian and a redhead posing with the mandatory red sheer babydolls trimmed in white faux fur and santa hats. It was funny how even after watching the same shit again and again he always came back to them.

“Sure, why the heck not?”

They played the video after throwing themselves on Gabriel’s bed, filled with multiple silk cushions. Dean had to give it to Kali for teaching her man how to decorate in opulence. He accepted gratefully the whisky he was handled and went to focus on the video. There were no guys in the video, it was just the girls, opening presents that held dildos and vibrators inside and playing with each other. After a while, Dean just sighed frustrated.

“What’s wrong?”

Dean chuckled “I was kinda hoping for an idiot dressed as Santa I guess.”

Gabriel looked at Dean for the longest time and paused the video.

“Not that, Dean, something’s wrong with you today, all these days since Sam pitched in on doing Christmas.”

Dean turned to look at the archangel feeling clearly betrayed for being called out by the only person he would have expected never to be confronted about anything considering how well he was known for running away from facing stuff. And the worst was that he was unable to give a single pretext to get away from the interrogation. He tried, he knew he had tried his best to get around the issue but Gabriel had pressed on and on until Dean spilled it all out. All about the winter days spent in a room without heating, holding Sam closely wrapped in a blanket, the gift giving watched from outside a living room, all the Holidays his father had been out doing only god knows which hunt. He didn’t know when he had started crying in the middle of his rant. Why was he even talking? Why was he allowing anyone besides himself listen to all of this? It’s not like Gabriel would actually care. Heck, it’s not like he still cared about it so why on earth was he tearing this way?

“I’m sorry, Gabe, you don’t even need to listen to this.” Dean grunted softly in the middle of his frustration, looking down onto his already empty glass. Gabriel went to level his sight up by pulling Dean’s chin upwards softly.

“Maybe I don’t need to but I want to.”

Dean looked at him shocked for a second. Who on earth would actually want to listen to him rant about his past? Gabriel moved closer to Dean, overcoming the mountains and valleys of coloured fabric and laying by his side.

“You don’t believe me.” Before Dean could even admit or deny the fact, Gabriel magicked out a small giftwrapped box, the size of a kid’s toy and gave it to Dean. Dean looked the object curiously but didn’t make a move to open it.

“Shouldn’t you have waited until tomorrow?”

“I didn’t get to be your Secret Santa.”

Dean eyed his friend suspiciously but relented and began to tear down the paper. He would never admit it but he actually gasped when he finally found out the small Chevy ‘67 Impala model in front of him. It was just like his Baby, all the way up to its original license plate. It was a silly gift, really, nothing too awesome to think about, and yet he clearly remembered he had been wanting this particular model ever since he had seen it at a mall, ages ago. His father obviously not buying it because there was no reason for Dean to have it knowing they already were riding a real one. Deep down, Dean knew it had never been about the car.

It had been about his father doing something only for him.  

“I know I shouldn’t be peering on your thoughts but you’ve been sending away this image strongly all these past days, I thought it was something you really wanted.”

And now, after so many years there was someone paying attention to him, maybe cheating a little bit but hey, nothing was perfect in this world. Dean could feel more tears welling up, he had to talk before his voice was stolen.

“Thanks Gabe”

The archangel smiled at Dean warmly. There was a myriad of things going through his amber eyes, lighting them like he was able to hold galaxies inside.

“Don’t sweat it kiddo”

Dean snickered softly “I gotta admit I always thought of you as a conceited brat”

Gabriel just raised his eyebrows and smiled as well. “Well, I cannot deny that I have been quite the hedonist my entire life”

“Then what happened?”

“You.”

Dean turned towards the archangel in shock, clearly he must have listened wrong but Gabriel was just there looking at him in earnest. After what Dean thought of as an eternity in silence, Gabriel broke it one more time.

“I know you only see me as a friend. That’s alright. I’m good with the way things are… but I’m not glad if you’re not glad, so if something goes around your head; I’ll be there to listen. Okay?”

“...Okay”

Jody and the girls arrived the following day around five, making everything more chaotic and fun. They had dinner after seven and then watched a silly Christmas movie. Dean found it funny that none of them even imagined for a second that Gabriel was indeed the Gabriel, archangel, messenger of God. They all assumed he was a fellow hunter and Gabriel, well, he didn’t really mind clearing that particular misunderstanding.

Well past midnight they did the Secret Santa swap. Dean had somehow found a plush for Castiel online that according to him was called ‘Sammy Moose’ so it was perfect for him. Sam bickered about it but Cas didn’t put the plush down for any reason other than hold the real Sam close. Gabriel had received from Claire three pairs of silly Christmas socks with googly eyed elves that he immediately wore and some chocolates and Dean received in awe a guitar from Jody who only said she had traded from a colleague that never stuck with any hobby. By the end of it all, they were all singing Christmas carols and finishing all the dessert they could.

Maybe he was being hopeful, or maybe he had had a bit too much spiked eggnog but Dean finally felt like this was a holiday he could actually enjoy.

[sohaveyoubeento-blog]

V is for Vietnamese & Vintage

Us three ladies had always played it pretty safe by way of our lunch dates. Not to say the local deli isn't absolutely kick ass - it's very tasty and very enjoyable every time we go, but in much the same way as I struggle to go to the same country more than once on my holidays (excluding India, you can never have enough India) I couldn't help but think that life's a bit too short to sit in the same eatery every time we meet for lunch, given that the whole day is ours, and within reason, travel is no issue.

The three of us decided that we would try different cuisines every week, and with the girls (Laura and Dani) living in the quieter, leafier suburbs of Otley and Burley in Wharfedale, with me (Alex) living in what I frequently describe as the bronx, 5 minutes from central Leeds but gloriously populated by some of the best food joints in the country (confirmed) they usually end up meeting at mine and then we go into town to try somewhere a bit off the beaten track. Invariably, being three mums of young children, we eat at the speed of rabid dogs and end up having a bit of time to go explore some local weird shop or two, never anything mainstream like a department store. Oh no. We like vintage shops. You know the type, they smell like damp and the inside of your nan's wardrobe, and we prance around pretending to overlook the fact that we are just in a well laid out, slightly more selective charity shop without the undertone of giving. Usually there's some blue haired student with a headscarf and a faint stench of Bobby Orange pawing through piles of shirts and jumpers that are deemed as retro, when they've actually some of them originated in C&A - we remember that place the first time round,depressingly. The whole vintage scene is a bit ironic and try hard and a bit sad at times, but the one thing that it does offer is the piece you are often looking at, generally is one of one only in the store. The same goes for charity shops, generally. We like stuff that can't be bought in bulk.

Dani owns Deluxe Blooms, and is a luxury faux florist, and very good at it too. Laura is a nail technician and spray tanning afficionado, and the owner of Maibella Nails and Tanning. I own a salon called Lexa Hair, and the three of us work together frequently. The ridiculous thing is though, that work is going really well for us, and while in the past we may have dug around in charity shops for a bargain simply to be economical, now it has begun more of a habit. And you know what they say, old habits die hard. We don't have to eat streetfood on picnic tables anymore, and we can shop anywhere we want, but at least just for me, I don't like extravagance and I'm not impressed by labels or price tags. I like pieces that are unique,with a story behind them. My two accomplices sort of get dragged in to it I think, but they seem on board with most of it. I hope.

And street food is the best food on earth, everyone knows that.

We kicked things off with a visit to a fairly new (maybe a year old I think) Vietnamese place on North Lane in Headingley named VietBaker. Inside it's very wooden looking, quite industrial and urban, stained wood everywhere and dark red leather chairs. It smells like the rice cooker that's chugging away in the corner, mixed with plenty of garlic and of course, the fresh baguettes that are stacked up in a glass cabinet above the front desk.

We opted for a sharing platter for £9, and from the menu us Yorkshire ruffians requested spring rolls (the deep fried ones, not the fresh, healthy ones obviously), prawn toast, and 'rustic chips'.

This was skin on chips with salt and pepper (well cooked and so tasty) and the prawn toast was understandably made of baguette slices. It made for a much heavier slab of prawn toast and therefore an even more unhealthy treat but man alive, was it good. The spring rolls were pork, prawn and the usual crispy vegetables inside. Not floppy or soggy, totally crispy and served with a really light and watery sweet chilli dip that's more sweet than chilli. It was all very lovely.

I've personally eaten from here a number of times and I think the Vietnamese have got it absolutely nailed when they make sandwich. Or a Ban Mih. Laura and I opted for one each, chicken for her and pork for me. Dani went for something off the new part of the menu, the fusion section, which even featured a take on beef bourgignon, Vietnamese style. She tried the Shanghai pork belly, served with rice. Her whole bowl was piled high, and we're not talking a polite, peanuts size bowl. More like a ‘free ceramic crunchy nut cereal box’ bowl, with the with tokens on the back of the pack, that you’d send off as a kid. It was huge. The second bowl was just plain rice, which worked really well as the pork alone was…. alot. It was sticky and tangy and rich and all those other wanky words that just mean amazing. I'm trying so hard to limit the wankiness. I like writing and eating, combining the two is hard work though. Bear with me. The slow cooked pork made me feel a bit gutted I went for a sandwich until I got stuck in.

Vietnam was a former French colony, and much like their neighbour Cambodia, found their local best offerings being bastardised to accomodate the 'local palate'. The nice version is that the baguette was the French's gift to the Vietnamese, although I imagine it was more a case of 'put your lovely meal in my baguette for me or you're in deep shit.'

I've never been to Vietnam but having visited Cambodge a few summers back, I remember being astounded at the gorgeous, light, dairy free Asian cuisine that had been shoved in a crusty, warm baguette. Whoever's story was true, it's the absolute bollocks.

They cut this freshly baked baguette open and spread it with patè on one side and on the other mayonnaise (already weird but hang in there) - add a ton of crispy green leaves, cucumber, pickles, coriander and fresh chilies, and add some meat into what little room is left. Enough meat to give you meat sweats. It. Is. Superb.

The pork was very finely sliced, dark and sticky again (here she goes) and you can bang on a fried egg, too, if you're an absolute wrong un. No thanks.

Laura had the chicken which was a milder flavour but none the less tasty and flavoursome. I noticed Laura pulling bits off her sandwich and delicately chewing away at them, while I picked it up and ate it like I'd been sleeping in the dark arches for the last month. I even had to be asked to wipe my face. Sorry, not sorry. No messing with a Ban Mih. Especially not this one.

The bill was a very respectable £11 a head, and they threw in a free set of spring rolls for us, which was a nice unexpected surprise. The place had a steady flow of traffic, and although wasn't packed, I've been on an evening and I think it's safe to assume that's the bulk of their trade. It was fantastic food, very reasonable and highly recommended. Great staff and great location. We'll be back!

Afterwards we drove for about 3 days to find a parking spot anywhere near Hyde Park, so we could check out the newly (ish) renovated (OK sign replaced and possibly ownership changed) Vintage something or other in Hyde Park.

I forget the name, and if I'm brutally honest I can see why. It's alright, but it used to be alot better. The last time I went in there was alot of very old apothecary style wooden drawer units, some weird taxidermy, and unusual pictures in frames that would look incredible in the lounge. This time there was quite a bit of formica, and some hideously orange stained TV units that I guess in some context would be deemed as cool again.

The music collection seemed to be where the most effort had been made. The clothing was actually quite 'quirky' in the sense that you wouldn't actually wear alot of it, there was a whole department that seemed to have been handed over by the owner of the late knob head Jimmy Saville, shell suit after shell suit in every colour of the rainbow, in that non breathable fabric you'd get a two man tent in. Hideous. Still, there are some absolute finds in there. I would encourage people to bear in mind that these shops have a high stock turnaround and in their uniqueness, and ability to replace items based on sales, any vintage shop can be a complete bag of shite one week and a total gold mine the next. Its the luck of the drawer, I love that about them. That and the fact that we call them vintage shops. The three of us refer to them as shit shops, but potato patato.

I find it depressing that as I mentioned before, alot of the 'retro' stuff is just normal stuff we, in our 30s, encountered in our youth. There was a 'vintage phone' that was £15 and I'm pretty sure my gran has it now. It's literally a BT £10 phone still in argos, but clearly it had lived with a heavy smoker, adding to the aged facade.

Some of it was very authentic, some of it was broken crap, but the general feel of the place is a good one. There is more 70s stuff than anything else which is quite cool, but like I say, stock changes very frequently. Dani bought an oversized T shirt with a University football team logo emblazoned across it, and to be honest I would have too. There was a vast array of university related large varsity based sweaters, some unnecessarily cut in half width ways (why?!!!! Serves no purpose now, you fools) and that's the kind of thing I would have liked to look at. But as I was in charge of a one year old who was bombing around the floor, doubling as a human sweeping brush and coming back with more dust on him than the inside of the V6 after the attic stairs have been tackled, I gave it up as a bad job and put my bank card back away. No spending for mum today. Gutted.

The shop is pretty fabulous, on the whole. They do know how to charge when it comes to furniture, but the clothing is far more reasonable. It's not all one off pieces, a couple of items make an appearance a few times and that kind of ruins it for me, I start picturing some huge factory in China making hideously outdated clothing and leaving them in a damp garage for a few years, chucking a bit of tea down them and wearing the cuffs and collars down, before exporting the newly knackered pieces to us dumbasses in our 'quirky vintage shops'. Who knows. It's well laid out, and pretty cool, and although not my favourite, I imagine the next time I go it'll be a whole different experience. Swings and roundabouts with these places. It was an interesting look, and if Parker hadn't been doing his best ferret impression I would have definitely bought a jumper. Well worth a look.

Until next week!

Laura, Dani and Alex X

VietBaker, Headingley

https://www.thevietbaker.co.uk

Vintage Boutique, Hyde Park

https://vintageboutique.com

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Missing Pieces, part 3

Welcome back. When last you were here, I was molting and got framed for petty theft. Onward.

After we got the crystal swan back from Charlie, we brought it back to the Autumn Court and told the freehold as a whole about Charlie and what he was doing. The Autumn Court was super grateful that we got the Token back and they all started treating us more warmly afterwards. It was a good feeling – I’d been really unhappy about the whole framed-for-theft thing, but getting the swan back was a way to prove myself to the Court I planned on pledging loyalty to. The Dagda also re-scheduled our pledging ceremony for the next major event, which was going to be the Winter Formal. No, I’m not joking. That’s actually what it’s called.

At any rate, about a week after we got the swan back, Yova came up with an idea that we were all on board with: namely, throwing a surprise belated birthday party for Pam. Pam had had a bit of a rough patch getting back to the mortal world and had been throwing herself into her work at the restaurant, and we hadn’t had much of a chance to see her. We all split up the responsibilities: Bella got some flowers for decorating, Day got the booze, Yova called in some favors to get catering done, and I handled the cake and offered to host. We also all got some presents for Pam: Yova and I went in on a specialty stand mixer for her and Day, much to my surprise, asked me to come with him to help him pick out some gifts. He got her a really nice apron and oven mitt set and a hardy African violet, something that could make it through the upstate winters. It was actually kind of nice spending some time with Day. He was so worried about getting something nice for Pam and I was pleasantly surprised that he trusted my taste enough to help him. (His first instinct was to get Pam a fifth of Wild Turkey and a pack of Virginia Slims. I had to gently tell him that something that was good enough for his mom wasn’t good enough for Pam.)

A couple of days before the party, Bella started feeling sick and ended up not able to make it. A couple of years in Arcadia didn’t do much for our immune systems and each of us got laid up with a cold or two in the month we got back, but Bella ended up with full-on influenza. She sent the flowers over along with about eighty thousand million bajillion sad emojis. Day and Yova came over to my apartment about an hour before showtime. Yova dropped off the catering and started decorating with a ton of fairy lights. Day plunked his ample behind down on my poor secondhand sofa and tried (and failed miserably) to fold napkins. Yova decided that it would be a better use of his time to sample the mocktails she was making and tried to get him to keep his damn socks off of my coffee table. I had no time for any of this because I was racing the clock to get the cake ready before Day went to pick up Pam.

At her place, Pam was just settling in and trying to relax after a long day of work. She was reading up on some chemistry articles that she’d been meaning to take a look at, but as she did, she felt something nudging at the back of her head, an intrusive thought. She managed to keep it at bay, at least until Day picked her up (leaning on the horn of Yova’s crappy pickup) and took her back to my place. She’d been told we were just going to be watching The Great British Baking Show (shut up, it’s awesome and you know it) and having some snacks, so she was pretty gobsmacked when we all yelled, “Surprise!”

Now, this next part I’m going to chalk up to ignorance. You see, it’s hard to understand, even looking the way we do, that we’re not human anymore and things that we wouldn’t normally struggle with can cause serious moments of reckoning. For me as a Beast, it’s if I accidentally hurt somebody without thinking about it. Yova as a Fairest can’t handle it if she leads somebody into danger or if her inaction causes somebody problems. Day as an Ogre gets very upset if somebody who he doesn’t think is an enemy runs from him or is very scared by him. Bella as a Darkling goes bonkers when she finds out something she previously thought was true isn’t. And Pam? Well. Wizened really, really, really don’t like being surprised.

To Pam’s credit, she managed to hold it together pretty well, even though I could see that her smile was a little tighter than I was used to seeing. It turns out that she wasn’t really focused on us. The thought she was trying to push back from earlier got through and was taking over her whole conscious. All she kept seeing was a red ribbon with a silver bell hanging over her daughter’s bed. After she managed to clear that from her head, she was touched when we told her that we wanted to celebrate her birthday because of everything she did for us. I pulled out the cake and Yova pulled out the crappy guitar she’d managed to bring back from Arcadia in true battle-bard style and we all did our best to not make “Happy Birthday to You” sound like the funeral dirge it is.

About halfway through singing, however, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Evain was calling me. I ducked into the kitchen as Pam was blowing out the candles on her cake (lit courtesy of Paisley, natch) and answered, asking what was up. It wasn’t Evain on the other end, however – I heard a very annoyed woman saying, “I can’t deal with him right now, you’re going to need to babysit him. I’m outside your apartment,” and she hung up. I trusted Yova with cutting the cake and slipped out and down the stairs.

When I got there, I saw a very annoyed Stella (the grouchy Autumn courtier we all saw when we got to the B&B), holding up a drunk-looking Evain. She practically threw him at me and said, “Apologies, but I have neither the time nor inclination to deal with him now. He’s your problem,” and off she sped. Evain was clearly not in a good way and I started helping him up the stairs while I texted Yova in all caps, “DISTRACT DAY. DISTRACT DAY.”

As I was helping Evain up to the second floor where my apartment was, I realized he actually wasn’t as drunk as I thought. He was drunk, for sure, but he seemed more upset than anything. I asked him what was going on and he let out a deep sigh, telling me that he couldn’t find his daughter’s picture. “It’s the last thing I had of my baby girl and it’s gone.” I told him that we could try and figure out where it went once he sobered up and he nodded.

When we got back to my apartment, I peeked inside to see what was going on. Day was crouched in front of my TV, fiddling with the Wii U to try and get Netflix going, Yova was standing between him and the door and Pam was on the couch. I brought Evain in, giving Pam a pleading look to not say anything. Then I tried to pick Evain up and slip him past the living room. I managed to pick him up easy enough, but the dumbass decided he was going to try to squirm out of my arms. I was trying desperately to fight him and keep him from making a scene, but he tumbled out of my arms and I ended up going over the back of the couch with him, ending up in a pile of feathers and bark, right as Day looked over.

“What the hell is he doing here?!” Day asked, standing up and glaring. I tried to explain how Stella had just dropped Evain off with no warning and I was just planning to have him sleep off the booze in my room. Day snorted and said, “Whatever. Just keep him out of my sight.” Evain was trying to figure out what was going on and what we were celebrating. “It’s Pam’s birthday. Well, belated birthday,” I told him. “Oh. Happy birthday,” he told Pam. “Thank you!” she said.

I got Evain settled in the bedroom and got a glass of water for him. Day went out on the balcony to sulk with a platter of noshes and a beer. Paisley, sweet girl that she is, went out to sit on his shoulder and nuzzle him. Around this time, Yova noticed that there was a scrap of fabric wedged in between the couch cushions where Evain fell and she pulled it out. She and Pam both saw it was a tarnished silver bell tied at the end of a red ribbon. Pam, as you might imagine, was pretty keen on trying to find out where Evain got this, given the vision she saw earlier. She and Yova marched into my room just as I was about to head back out.

Pam asked Evain if the ribbon was his. As soon as he saw it, he about leapt over the side of the bed to grab it and shove it in his pocket. All he admitted was that it was a keepsake, but when I asked him if it had to do with why he was upset (and Yova leaned on him a bit), he wasn’t able to keep it together. “It’s all I have left of my baby girl. When I got back, I was at Wal-Mart. Trying to buy some clothes or something, I don’t even remember. And I saw her on a missing person poster. I went to her foster parents’ house and found that ribbon out in the back yard.” He told us that it was perfect that we were having a party, because the day before would have been his daughter’s twenty-fifth birthday. We were quiet for a moment, but then Pam told us about the vision she had. It seemed like it was way too much to be a coincidence.

I pulled out the refurbished laptop I’d bought off Craigslist and started trying to find any significance of red ribbons and silver bells. At first I thought about looking at fairy tales and trying to see if there was anything there. But then I stumbled across an old forum that was attached to an online game designed for pre-teens, like Neopets.

…shit. I just remembered my Neopets.

Okay, back. They were happy to see me, which is always good. Anyway, the forum thread I found was actually pretty creepy. It was for kids who were having some trouble, either because their parents were going through a divorce or they were in foster care, or something else was causing them some pain at home. The post that caught my eye was one that told other kids about a ritual where if you take a white silk ribbon and soak it in your own blood, put a silver bell on it, and ring it before you go to sleep, it will start a spell that can bring your parents back.

When I finished reading that out loud, I looked up and the other three all had the expression of horror that I’m sure was on my own face. Evain was visibly agitated and Pam started texting her Fetch on red alert. The two of them quickly started planning how they might help Pam’s daughter. At least, Evain was offering some ideas – when he tried to get up, he winced and fell back on the bed. “Listen, I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but the one of us who’s probably going to be the best at figuring out how to get to the bottom of this is Day,” I told Evain. He gave another one of those unpleasant laughs and said, “Oh, that’s rich. It’s his fault she’s gone.” We asked him what he meant and he said, “If he hadn’t arrested me, she would never have been in foster care.” Yova and I exchanged a flat look and we stepped out. “You know, just when he had me feeling sorry for him…” she said.

Pam told Yova and me that she would take care of Evain in the meantime, which meant Yova and I had to go convince Day to help us figure this out. I cut a giant slice of cake and put a couple scoops of ice cream on it and Yova grabbed a new beer out of the fridge. Yova sidled out onto the balcony and held out the beer while I held out the plate from inside the apartment (I wasn’t going to trust that ancient balcony to hold three people on it). He took one look at us and said, “Ohhhh, no. Nope, I am not taking any bribe to help him out.” Yova and I exchanged another look. “It’s not Evain we’re asking you to help…” Yova began. “It’s Pam,” I finished. That got his attention.

We went over the vision Pam had, the ribbon Evain had found where his daughter last lived, and the forum post I found. Day grabbed the cake from me and unhinged his jaw, swallowing it all in one bite. “I’ll do it, but just to help Pam,” he said. Yova looked pleased as punch and I barely got out, “It took me six hours to make that cake. Six. Hours.” “And it was well worth it,” Day said with no small amount of glee. “You didn’t even taste it! It just went straight down your gullet!” I said.

While Day and I were bickering over the etiquette of not chewing the cake your host proffers, Pam managed to get in touch with her Fetch. The Fetch said she’d confiscated the ribbon, but found something burned in an ashtray in Sierra’s room that smelled like rosemary. Pam told her Fetch about the ribbon and they agreed to keep each other filled in on everything. (A few days later, Pam got an envelope from her Fetch filled with clippings about the things that those teenagers get up to these days, don’tcha know.)

Yova suggested that we go talk with the Autumn Court about it, which was definitely the best idea any of us came up with (we won’t mention who came up with the suggestion of finding a kid in foster care and trying out the ritual with that kid). I texted Stella to let her know that we were on our way and that Evain was sleeping off the drink. I held out my hand to Paisley and told her, “Come on, girl, we’re going on a field trip.” She flittered up and settled on my shoulder with delight. I gathered everybody in my bathroom and cut open my finger, smearing some blood on the mirror. I activated my Mirror Walk contract, the same one Evain did when he took me to the Autumn Court’s lodge in the first place. The four of us linked hands and crawled through the mirror, coming out in the foyer of the lodge.

I have to admit, I felt pretty proud showing off the place to my motley. It was the first time any of them had been there and I could see they were impressed, even Day. I gave them a brief tour on the way to the library. Once there, Day, Pam, and I hit the stacks, trying to track down anything that we might be able to find about any ritual or creature that sounded like this. Yova, however, decided that turning on the charm was the right course of action. She turned the full force of her schmoozing onto Marigold, a mousey Darkling intern with Coke bottle glasses who I’d seen before but hadn’t been introduced to. Marigold was absolutely taken with Yova and Yova slipped Marigold her number, promising to take her out for coffee if she could help us with our research problem.

Marigold took Yova directly over to the stack that Day was already thumbing through. With the five of us working together, it wasn’t long until we managed to find an older file labeled “The Shepherd of Lonely Roads.” It was dusty as hell and had obviously been there a while without anyone touching it. The name of the changeling who’d compiled the report was “Creighton,” which I didn’t recognize. The file said that the Shepherd was an unknown creature – it could be fae, goblin, hedge ghost, nobody was sure. Surprisingly, the file said that the Shepherd didn’t seem antagonistic and did show some degree of empathy.

The problem we came across was that all of the information in the file was secondhand. The Shepherd only dealt with children, and even though the first portion of the rules for summoning it were in the file, nobody in the Autumn Court who’d tried was able to get it to reveal the rest of the summoning spell. What we learned was that the ribbon had to be soaked in the blood of the person wanting to summon the Shepherd and left out to dry in the full moon. You were to then tie the bell to it, hang the ribbon over your bed, and ring it once before going to sleep every night for seven nights. Some Autumn courtiers had managed to summon the Shepherd on the second night, but it always refused to answer any questions or deal with them in any way; it claimed it would only come to children who need it.

After we got that info, we talked about what we might do. Pam suggested that if it dealt with children who were missing their parents, it might be willing to at least talk to a mother who was missing her children. We figured it couldn’t hurt to try the ritual and went back through the mirror to my apartment. Evain was sitting on the couch in the living room, looking a little better, and I saw there was some food and cake missing. He thanked me for letting him crash and got up to go. Before he did, I asked him if he wanted us to help him find the picture. He says that the picture itself wasn’t anything special, just the last missing persons poster. “As long as it was up there, I figured there was somebody who still cared about her and wanted her to come home,” he said. I thought for a second and told him we could probably pull up the missing poster online and print out a copy for him to have. I went in my bedroom and got my laptop, then pulled up Google. “Okay, so what’s your daughter’s name?” I asked him. He took in a breath and said, “Cassi. Cassi Rodriguez.”

I about fell off the back of the couch where I was sitting, and from the look on Pam, Yova, and Day’s faces, they felt the same. “Um, Cassi with one I?” I asked. “Yeah,” Evain said. Yova asked, “Was her favorite movie Cinderella?” “Yeah… okay, this is getting creepy,” Evain said, looking at us with slightly narrowed eyes. “Um. Well, the good news is she’s still alive,” I said. “SHE’S WHAT?!” Evain asked, stumbling. “The bad news is she’s the right-hand changeling to a changeling gone mad with power who’s fighting the True Fae,” Yova said.

We explained to him how we knew Cassi and Yova brought us upstairs to her apartment where she’d kept the poster she’d taken with Cassi’s image on it (I did mention Yova lives in my building, right?). He took the frame and stared at it for a minute before he put the whole thing in his pocket. I could tell Yova wanted to protest, but she decided against it. I was mostly looking around at the antique shop that had thrown up in her flat and asked her, “Yova, when did you get all this crap in here? I live downstairs!” She gave me one of her damnably zen smiles and said, “Sunday is for DIY.”

Evain looked like he was feeling a lot better and told us he was going to go home and get drunk, but to celebrate the fact that his daughter was still alive and sticking it to the Gentry. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me,” he told us before he left. And, I noticed, he and Day exchanged a nod in each other’s direction. Progress!

With Evain gone, the four of us decided to try out the ritual. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it before, but one of the benefits to becoming a changeling is that you become a lucid dreamer: you can basically craft your dreams into what you want them to be, and even enter each other’s dreams with permission. We made a quick pledge to all protect Pam’s dreams and I witnessed it. Yova produced a mostly silk ribbon from her sewing basket and I used my Trivial Reworkings contract to turn it pure white. Pam took it and a silver bell that Yova got out of her applique basket. She cut her arm and bled into a basin, then soaked the ribbon in it and let it out to dry. I went downstairs for some pillows and blankets and Paisley and we all set up in Yova’s living room, waiting to fall asleep.

The first night, nothing happened. We all got into Pam’s dream, which to be honest looked like Audrey’s fantasy home from Little Shop of Horrors. We mostly sat around in the living room watching old game shows on the TV and awkwardly attempting conversation. The second night, however, was completely different. It started out the same, with things nice if a little awkward, but then the television went weird. The Wheel of Fortune puzzle started spelling out “TURN AROUND.” When we did, we saw that the rest of the house was gone: it was just void left. A tiny, faint green light was coming toward us. As it got closer, we could see a pale figure stepping forward slowly and with every step a viney path appeared before it.

When the Shepherd eventually reached us, it looked almost translucent, a figure of indeterminate gender wrapped in robes and carrying a crook. It looked around to the four of us. It didn’t move its lips, but we could all hear in our heads, “I see no child here.” Pam explained the situation and the Shepherd suggested that she go to her daughter. “If you do that, she’ll have no need of me.” It told us that once things were set in motion, they couldn’t be stopped. It didn’t seem like the Shepherd was interested in causing any harm: it told us that all it did was create a path between the child and its parents, but it had no control of what happened once the child entered the path.

Pam asked if it had a lot of contracts open or started and it admitted that it didn’t. “You must understand that these contracts are how I sustain myself. I cannot break them because if I did, I would cease to be. If I cease to be, then I cannot help,” it said. When she asked what the child’s end of the contract was, the Shepherd told her that the children who asked for its help made it offerings: each offering has some Glamour, and when the Shepherd got enough, it could open the way. The opening didn’t require much Glamour, so it could keep the rest for itself.

Yova brought up the point that we weren’t sure if Sierra’s path would even lead back to Pam, since Sierra was adopted. She asked the Shepherd, “When you say you get them back to their parents, is it who the child considers their parents or by blood?” “It is not always the case that they look for the one to whom they are bound by blood. I promise a way for them to know the touch of their parents once more, and in exchange, they provide me offerings,” the Shepherd told her. Yova, against all logic, decided that trying to act all dreamy to the Shepherd to get it to help us was a good idea. It just looked confused for a second before it said, “Ah. Seduction.” Dammit, Yova.

Yova at least had the good sense to change gears and she and Pam both started talking with the Shepherd, asking it for help. Pam brought up her work with the foster kids she was volunteering with and started talking to it about wanting to help. It told us about some of the children it came into contact with and how they would share their feelings and worries with it. “Even if I cannot understand human sentiment the ways you do, I still feel like I am doing something worthwhile,” it said. It seemed to consider for a moment, then said, “I promise children a way to feel their parents’ touch. Can you give me that?” Pam asked what it meant and it clarified that if she could provide it with a touch that it could deliver to Sierra, it could do so without opening the path.

Yova had an idea about sending Sierra an invitation to a theater program for kids and that Yova could give Pam a spot as a volunteer. “Thanksgiving Break is coming up. I can put some feelers out. Kids from all over the country come to those camps,” Yova told her. Pam was completely overjoyed and hugged Yova tight. Yova asked the Shepherd if that would suffice and it told her it would, but that it still had to deliver a message. At that, I tore out a page from my journal where I was taking all of the notes and handed it to Yova along with my pen, telling her to engrave an invitation. She did so with her fanciest handwriting and Pam signed off, including a reference to a nickname she had for Sierra. The Shepherd took it and – seemed pleased? It’s hard to get a read on an extraplanar being, but it did seem to approve of what we were doing. It said it would deliver the invitation to Sierra and wouldn’t open its own way for her before it departed.

Shortly after that, we all woke up and Yova told us that she loved us dearly but that we had to get the hell out of her apartment. And so I think I’ll wrap it here for now. When next we come back, Bella’d recovered from her bout with the flu and you’ll find out what further messes we managed to get ourselves embroiled in. Until then, stay safe, and if an Ogre is coming for a party, may you invest in one of those giant ten-pound tubs of Cheeto balls.

[bethhxrmon]

All I Ask of You Pt. 13

“In 525,600 minutes, how do you measure a year in the life?” -”Seasons of Love” from RENT

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female OC

Words: 3,170

Warnings: None, maybe plot convenience

Summary: A few bullets are dodged and maybe there’s some setup and pining.

A/N: These chapters take so much work, but I really like how they end up coming out and I hope everyone else feels the same because I’ve been working really hard on this fanfic!

MASTERLIST

Playlist

           For a moment, Annie thought that Peter had figured her out. As terrified as she normally would have been, her pain clouded that fear. If nothing else, she was almost certain that Peter wouldn’t hurt her. So when he opened his window, letting her in, she figured that he already knew who she was.

           He pressed a finger to his lips, “Just try to keep it down, my aunt’s finally asleep,” he whispered, his voice groggy and low.

           “R-right, ah, shit,” Annie muttered, biting down on her arm to stop herself from crying out from the pain.

           It was then that Peter saw the blood on her leg, “Oh, I-I’ll get something for that, just hold on, you can sit on my bed.”

           Annie nodded a bit, sitting on the bed. The room was a bit different, she had never been in it while it was really dark outside. She looked over at Peter’s digital alarm clock on a desk, seeing it was just half past ten. If she took too long to get home, her parents would wonder just what she was up to. She didn’t need them asking too many prying questions. More importantly, she didn’t know what excuse she would use for having a stab wound right in the side of her left thigh.

           “Hey… I found some stuff. Look, it’s gonna hurt a lot and I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Peter said, having a bunch of supplies in one arm while wiping the sleep out of his eyes.

           Annie grimaced, “Great, just make it quick… please. Um… could I maybe borrow that pillow of yours? I just… I probably shouldn’t bite my arm so much.”

           “Y-yeah, of course… wait, shouldn’t you go somewhere to get this checked out?” Peter asked, looking up at her with concern.

           Annie shook her head, “N-no, I just kinda stopped when my leg gave out, ya know?”

           “I guess… but… y-you’re that White Swan lady, aren’t you?” he questioned, wetting some cotton pads with peroxide.

           She buried her face in the pillow, feeling like a million needles were stabbing into the wound and tears pierced her eyes again, “Y-yeah… how do you know?”

           “Oh,um… I’ve uh… seen you around before,” Peter claimed, a claim that Annie felt was a lie, but didn’t feel she was at liberty to ask.

           What amazed her was that Peter just didn’t recognize her at all. Maybe it was because he was tired, or because she didn’t normally sound like she was in so much pain. She couldn’t say anything more as he continued to clean the wound. A part of her wanted to scream until the pain went away, but she was positive that if May got involved that her cover was blown for sure. Annie was already toeing the line she never liked to mess around with. It was why she tended to avoid people she knew while out patrolling.

           Then again, Annie had never seen Peter around while she was out trying to save the city. Though, it wasn’t like she was paying attention. She did glide from building to building a lot, and she knew that. That had to have been why he knew who she was.

           “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I-it’s not as deep as I thought, y-you should be okay,” Peter said, yawning a little bit.

           Annie nodded, tears blurring her vision and Peter shook his head when he saw, “Hey, hey, hey. You’re fine, I just need to get the blood to stop. I-I’ll bandage it up, but I’ll have to rip this tear a bit more.”

           “J-just do it, that’s fine,” she said, not wanting to meet his gaze.

           Sure, Harper would probably kill her if she asked for a new suit, but Annie needed it. While there was no way that she would get it for another couple weeks, Annie knew that she could patch it up so it would hold out for that long. Those thoughts managed to take over her head instead of the pain from her thigh. It felt more like a dull ache after what looked to be fifteen minutes.

           Peter found some scissors, cutting the silvery spandex material and wrapped a bandage around it, “I’d try to stay off of it.”

           “Well, no can do… I’m subbing in for a friend right now,” she replied with a sigh.

           Peter frowned, looking at her, “I think your friend would understand if you’re out of commission for now.”

           “Maybe he would, but I don’t think most other people would,” she said with a small shrug.

           He shook his head, “I mean, I can’t stop you… but I think it’s a bad idea.”

           “Well, it’s not… but I need to do it,” Annie insisted, “Speaking of staying off my leg, I gotta bounce.”

           Peter grabbed her wrist, pulling her down before she could get up, “Please, get some actual help. I-I’m not a doctor, but just… be careful, will you?”

           “Yeah, yeah, of course, I’ll be fine… but I really gotta get home,” Annie said, starting to get up again.

           Peter frowned and nodded a little, “Okay, but I really think that your friend would understand… just, trust me on this?”

           “Okay, okay, okay, I’ll be okay. I won’t do anything too stupid, you don’t need to worry about me, I’m the superhero, remember?” she pointed out, pushing up her mask a bit so it wouldn’t slip off.

           He sighed, letting go of her, “Alright, I just hope you’re right.”

           “Of course I am,” she responded, limping out of the window and onto the fire escape.

           As she managed to glide herself back to her apartment, Annie couldn’t help realizing how close of a call that had been. What really had her mind reeling was how he hadn’t just recognized her right away. She had done a terrible job of keeping herself reserved as possible, but that was when an explanation that made far more sense than Peter being overly tired popped into her mind. If he’d just gotten through a surgery, then that meant he had to have been on pain killers, that had to be why he hadn’t been able to see right through her. With how close they were, or how close she felt that they were, she was positive that he could have figured it out. Maybe if he had been completely in his right mind he would have figured it out. Either way, she needed to find a way to get this by her parents.

           That answer came from Harper having the positively full-proof plan which would keep Peter from ever suspecting he had been helping her the whole time, as well as getting the chance to brush the truth away from her parents. Annie changed back into her regular clothes once she got to her apartment and took off the dressings for the stab wound. It began to get a little bit of blood, and she found one of her shirts and a pocket knife.

           Her phone rang at such a loud volume that she hardly had to pretend to be scared by it, but she let out a cry like she had stabbed herself with the knife on accident. When she picked up the phone, she picked it up to Harper who was sighing a bit, commenting on how Annie owed them big. Annie knew that already, even with Harper all the way across the country, they were managing to help her a ton. Especially when Harper knew that meant they would have to send in a slightly new suit.

           Ever since Annie had first gotten herself beaten up, Harper knew they would need to have a couple other prototypes of the suit lying around. Though they weren’t extremely technologically advanced. There was only so much Harper could do when their parents were CEOs to a fabric company. Annie claimed she really only needed the suit, and for the most part it was true. Normally her powers were enough to keep regular criminals from hurting her, but she just hadn’t been thinking straight.

           “Annie! What happened, honey?” her mom asked, running into the room.

           Her dad followed right next to her, “Yeah,you were screaming… is that blood?”

           Annie winced a bit, looking at the pocket knife she had put blood on, “Y-yeah, I was cutting this really annoying tag off of my shirt and… well… Harper called and… well… i-it scared me.”

           Actually saying the excuse out loud was what made Annie feel like it was the dumbest thing she had ever spoken. Though, Harper had been the one to claim that was why the excuse was genius. It was so dumb that no one could question it.

           “Well, that doesn’t matter, we need to get you to a hospital,” her mom insisted.

           Annie sighed a bit, trying to still pretend like she was in terrible amounts of pain, “Obviously.”

           “You should be able to go to school tomorrow, though,” her dad said.

           Sure enough, Annie had been able to get stitches on the stab wound without her parents questioning a thing. She was able to get to school the next day, though the doctor insisted she use crutches as a precaution. If it had been up to Annie, she would have just hid the fact that she had been injured at all. Instead, she would have to hope that people would believe her dumb story for the next few days.

           Thankfully they had bought her made up excuses and there were only a few days left before Spider-Man was scheduled to come back. As much as she hated to admit it, she did feel like something was missing without the masked hero. It had only taken a couple days for Annie to be well enough to go around patrolling, and less than that to haphazardly stitch up her suit as she waited for Harper’s delivery.

           Every once in awhile, she would find herself looking over her shoulder, about to talk to someone who wasn’t even there. Maybe they really were partners and it was just starting to hit her. After having been alone while running around Seattle for a couple years, Annie had been so certain that she could have handled being alone again. That being alone would have been nice and welcoming because she wouldn’t have some masked guy telling her about the time he got to fight Captain America and Ant-Man.

           However, it did give her a chance to get farther on Tina’s case. Something she did out of the suit because it made things feel more natural. Annie had started meeting Tina at the shelter and then wandering along, talking. If they kept in the middle of public, Annie knew that they would be less likely to be watched because of how many people were around.

           “I know… I only have five more months until I’m eighteen, and I know that means I can get charged for everything… but I can’t go against him,” Tina started, pushing back her frizzy, kinky hair.

           Annie nodded, “Right, I know that, but there’s no other way to get you out free and to get him behind bars. If you tell me who this guy is-”

           “Then he’ll be after me, you should know that. He’ll know I’m trying to go out against him. It’s a fight I won’t win,” she insisted.

           Annie pulled the sleeves of her hoodie down, “I know that, but you won’t be alone. You’ll have me and Spider-Man and we’ll keep you safe. No one will hurt you.”

           “You can’t promise that.”

           “Yeah, I can.”

           “You shouldn’t make a promise you won’t be able to keep. That’s just dumb, Annie, you should know that,” Tina replied, sighing exasperatedly.

           Annie frowned, “Look, you don’t deserve to get in trouble for something you couldn’t control. You’re so much better now, you’ve been getting better. You can’t throw that away.”

           “And I won’t, we’ll work it out. But I’m not getting anyone charged with anything,” Tina said.

           “What if I found him? What if I got to him on my own?” Annie asked.

           Tina scoffed, “That’s impossible, he’s not just down the street or something. You can’t just stumble across him.

           “Why not? You managed to, why couldn’t I?”

           “It’s not… it’s not that easy, you should know this by now. Look, you can’t save everyone. You should stop trying to save my life and just be a supportive friend,” Tina responded, sitting on a bench.

           Annie sat next to her, “What if I could do both?”

           “I don’t know how you’d do that, but I feel like I can’t stop you,” she relented.

           Annie shrugged, “You’re not wrong there,” she paused to look at the time, “Shit, I gotta go, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

           “Alright, but it better not be another one of these conversations again. I need someone to talk shit about all of my awful classmates with. You know, normal topics,” Tina said.

           Annie smiled a bit, “And you’ll get that, I just… I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

           It didn’t take too long for Annie to get up to Peter’s apartment. Over the two weeks of helping him stay on top of his classes, she didn’t even have to knock to get into the apartment. May was so used to seeing her around that she saw Annie as someone else who basically lived there. Though, Annie knew she wouldn’t have as much of an excuse to go over to his apartment with him being back at school in a matter of days.

           “Yeah, I know it’s been awhile, but I still can’t stop thinking about it. How am I supposed to know if she’s okay or not?” Annie could hear Peter talking and she stopped, peeping on the conversation.

           “You’ll know when you get back, but I’m sure she’s fine. You said it yourself, she’s a hero, like Iron Man,” Ned replied.

           Annie heard Peter sigh, “But what if she’s not? What if she fell off of one of those buildings or something? What if she’s-”

           “Dude, if she was dead that would be news, you wouldn’t have to sit around wondering,” Ned insisted.

           Annie walked into the room, “If who was dead?”

           “Oh um… no one… it’s n-nothing,” Peter stammered.

           Ned smirked a little, “Right… he got a little super visitor awhile ago and he’s worried she got herself killed.”

           “Well she didn’t look too great, she was bleeding a lot and she kept trying to leave. I-I don’t know why she came to me,” Peter said, running a hand through his hair.

           Annie coughed a bit, her eyes widening just a tad, “Wait, wait, who’s this exactly?”

           “Um… she said she was White Swan… she showed up bleeding and injured and I was worried about her. And I haven’t seen her since,” Peter explained.

           Ned shrugged, “It’s hard to see anyone when you’re home sick for a couple weeks. I’m telling him she’s just fine.”

           Annie quickly nodded, “Yeah, she’s probably just fine, you just don’t see her around much. I saw her gliding around a couple nights ago.”

           “Wait… you know her?” Peter asked.

           Annie shook her head, “Oh, no, that’s… nope. Just have seen her around. Ya know, like I see Spider-Man swinging around once in awhile.”

           Having dodged another narrow bullet that would rip right through the identity she had worked to keep secret, Annie had managed to relax. The three of them focusing on school work for a little while until Ned claimed he needed to go home. Incidentally, he said it right as Annie mentioned the musical, which Annie found meant they were supposed to be talking about something.

           “Um… ah… about the musical, I’m-”

           Annie cut Peter off, “You have to do it.”

           “Wait… what, I can’t I-I don’t have time,” Peter began.

           Annie shook her head, “No, you have to stay. Please, I wouldn’t want anyone else to be Tony.”

           “Look, I know you want us to work together b-because we’re friends, but I-”

           Annie cut him off again, “No, you don’t get it. Flash is your understudy. If you back out, I have to stage-kiss Flash. I’d sooner smack the shit out of him.”

           “Wait… what?” Peter asked.

           Annie sighed, “I tried to get him as your understudy so Ned could be in the musical too, and it backfired. So now you definitely can’t ditch me.”

           “Did you seriously? Annie! I can’t believe you would do that!” Peter exclaimed.

           Annie shrugged, “I know, I know, it was stupid and I’m stupid and it was impulsive and I shouldn’t have done that and-”

           “You’re not stupid… but now I really can’t ditch you, can I?” he replied.

           Annie nodded, “Glad we’re on the same page, I hope you’ve been looking at the script, because I’m not kissing Flash… anyways, I should probably get outta here, my parents want me home kinda early.”

           The whole way home, Annie hadn’t mentioned the fact that she would much rather kiss Peter than Flash. Not because she hated Flash, which she did, but because she really did like Peter. Though she also liked Spider-Man, kissing Peter on a stage wouldn’t mean anything. Well, it didn’t have to mean anything. She would get to pretend for just a bit every day to know what it was like to be with Peter.

           When they finally rehearsed for the first time, Annie couldn’t believe that she was going over lines with Peter, it just felt so real. It was to the point that she wasn’t even bothered when he said he had to duck out a few minutes early. He promised he would work on learning his lines and swore up and down he was listening to the songs for the musical.

           Annie didn’t worry because she wanted to get into her new suit and finally see Spider-Man for the first time in a couple weeks. Even if he was obnoxious and drove her crazy, it was something she missed more than she would care to admit. That was what she thought as she got into the suit that had just the slightest bit different designs. Nothing that gave her suit more power, it was just a bit of a different design.

           “Swan!” an all too familiar voice yelled out.

           Annie turned to see Spider-Man, “Hey, Spidey, it’s been awhile.”

           “You made it!” he exclaimed.

           Right when Annie was about to continue playing it off like she had been just fine the whole time. Like she hadn’t missed their banter and having someone around. Like she hadn’t gotten herself hurt. Like she didn’t miss having Spider-Man around, he ran up and engulfed her in a tight hug. He picked her up with little difficulty and Annie hugged him back. She’d never let herself get so close to Spider-Man before, but she quickly realized she didn’t want to be away from him.

           Annie laughed a bit when he put her down, “Yeah, I guess I did.”

Tag list: @flushings-here / @upsidedownparker / @gaypanda / @ijustdontknowsometimes / @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy / @thwipparker / @buzzinglee (just ask to be added to the tag list)

[profanehero]

King’s Water

Ever since the fall of the American-Japanese Embassy; Katherine Parler had one question on her mind; and one question only.

How do you kill gold?

Do you break it down and break it apart? No... No gold could be reformed and melted. It would always come back together.

No.

You had to drown it.

A bullet-proof jacket, state of the art that would do more than just protect her from bullets. It would protect her from shock, from fall, from debris, and obviously from cold and from the son... It weight a good ninety pounds alone.

Forty-one kilos. She was never one for translating to the metric system.

She packed light, as she suspected would be needed of her if she wanted to draw out her intended target. Wearing a skin-tight combative top, skid-resistant leggings and opera-length compression gloves... She knew how helpless, and bare she looked under her coat... She knew that danger and finesse was the last thing that came to mind when people saw her.

Katherine Parler-  Banshee... Looked soft, unprepared... Defenseless.

And that was entirely what she was supposed to look like as she walked through the various alleyways of Toyko. She had been living in Japan by herself for nearly six months now...

The intent had been to stay in Japan as long as she could to adopt Hiroki, and try to live that normal life she had always wanted... The normal life free from pressures to use her quirk, free from someone else’s want to see her powers put to their fullest...

But Alloy followed her back.

So it was with great trepidation, and great maternal instinct; that one night when Hiroki was safely in the infant ward of a hospital in Mustafu that she donned her costume and took to the streets without her weaponry. She even left them purposefully in her equipment safe in her apartment... Everything that Banshee has officially registered to use with Japan’s government could be checked off at her house.

If her skulking around didn’t draw the attention of her stalkers... The note on the fridge written in English would.

Sumida Aquarium: 8:30 pm Penguins

Sure enough that’s where she went. She walked right up into the line, costume and all, bought a ticket and slowly made her way to the penguin exhibit... Where she waited, speaking to the occasional Aquarium employee.

Katherine had reservations about using the common Japanese people’s inability to say ‘no’ against them, but she needed to stay with someone official until she was asked... Politely... To leave at nine o’clock sharp- when the Aquarium closed.

She didn’t make any move to stay past then, and started moving to the exit... Watching the lights of the guest walk-ways as they clicked off one by one.

And then she saw a figure in a heavy suit, heavier than she had ever seen him wear before- he must have been cold in Japan. It was now solidly winter...

Alloy didn’t have the same smiling, controlling face that she had half-expected he’d don. Instead his expression was that of thinly veiled irritation hidden behind confusion.

His eyebrow raised in a silent question... Which he then proceeded to cut through by actually using his voice. “Yo...” he looked around. “... Now, if you had wanted a date; you have my number. You could have JUST texted me.”

A few seconds later Katherine had side-stepped into an employee’s only section and took off running.

“Okay. Fine. Not a date. I can take a hint.”

Soon she could hear the tell-tale signs of his pursuit into a hallway. The back employee walk-ways were lined with grates. Grates that likely couldn’t deal with the pressure of three metric tons on the surface area of a foot.

She turned around just in time to watch Alloy stagger over his own shoes as he ditched them to pursue her... Which he had gotten much better at since she had made the mistake of recommending Land of the Lustrous to him. Soon his feet were a molten trail of gold and he was basically figure-skating down the smooth concrete walkway- but it wasn’t long before she could turn the corner into a much larger expanse. A large aquarium warehouse...

Frankly, aside from a few obvious distinguishing sets of equipment it looked like any other warehouse. Wooden crates of roughly similar sizes were stacked up atop pylons and scaffolding. Large unassembled sheets of thick glass were stacked by each other against one of the walls- but the majority of the center space inside the warehouse was, in fact, taken up by unused tanks, tables, and oddly shaped crates, coolers, boxes- anything else that didn’t have an immediate place to go.

He was coming- he was coming... Under the desk.

Performing a quick tuck-and-roll underneath a desk and behind one of the boxes crammed in there.

Soon the sloshing sound of Alloy entering became apparent. After moving around to make sure there was no other way of escape the villain slowly resumed walking- his feet turning to flesh once more as he paced around.

“... I know you’re in here, Kit-Kat...” he paused, coming to a stop as he examined the walls with various pipes and valves. He let out a despondent snort. “... Katherine. I don’t like playing hide and seek.... Do I have to start breaking things?”

No response. Banshee noticed her hand was clasped over her own mouth.

A loud clatter, and the sound of a crate being thrown across the room.

“I guess so.”

In no time at all Alloy made quick work of many of the boxes of tools, and equipment on one side of the room- he didn’t even have to transform his entire side in order to lift it all- he just used the entirety of his hand like a god damned battering ram and tossed the things around like pillows- stomping down on crates like they were toothpicks.

But Katherine kept an eye on him, a close eye and made sure he had turned just far enough to dart back to the other side of the room... And of course her running meant she was heard- but this time that was the point. She was already halfway to the metal ladder up the side of one scaffold, dodging a well-placed pressure-gauge and wasting no time to breathe as she recklessly scaled up the ladder.

She saw his hand pull the ladder from the scaffolding- which was built-in mere seconds before she rolled over to the top and began searching- frantically for a spot on the hanging beams on the ceiling to get a good purchase... Finally she gets a break-- a hanging lamp a few sturdy scaffolds away.

With no time to loose and the scaffold behind her beginning to collapse like a card house- she ran forward and jumped, grabbing onto the hanging lamp and turning her head and opening her mouth to brandish the one weapon she always had with her- her quirk.

“TARNISH AND DIE-” but the threat fell through deaf ears as the box thrown at her was torn through a hateful red slash of threats- but bellow her Alloy seemed to look on in horror.

There came a creaking noise- and for the first time since she had jumped- she took a second to look at the lamp-- it was starting to give. Below her was a large, half-filled aquarium filled with fake reefs and water.

In a singular cartoony moment Katherine looked up at the light again, then looked at Alloy who actually looked worried just long enough for the sound of metal snapping to echo through the air as Katherine and the light fell into the slowly filling aquarium.

“SHIT! KATHERINE!”

Alloy rarely ran- but he ran this time- human sized feet-cracks in the pavement behind him as he merely hit the glass with a fragment of his strength- washing he and the entire warehouse in a gush of saltwater.... And broken glass...

Okay. He should have thought that last part through for a split second he couldn’t see anything in his eyes.

And  great, something got stuck around his neck-

Wait.

After a moment of sudden realization Alloy’s stinging eyes opened just as the shock collar Katherine’s new costume tightened itself around her neck and activated, sending him tumbling to the ground as his entire body seized.

He was covered in salt water... And in the middle of an aquarium. In actual clothing- so even if he could take the time and shake water off his body- it’d still cling to the clothing fabric.

She was never in trouble...

This was her plan.

A moment of sputtering on the ground and he was staring up, trying so desperately to morph into a more advantageous form- but to no avail, the shock collar activated again.

Maybe... Maybe if he just... Didn’t fight for a moment... he could lure her into a sense of complacency.

“How are you-- not..?”

“Coat... It’s made from an entirely conductive metal thread on the exterior... But my suit’s interior, and my Jacket’s interior; completely shock-resistant... Courtesy of Doctor Patrick Rawlings.”

For a moment he saw red. “I’m REALLY getting sick about hearing that man’s god-damned... name...” Alloy said as he began to push himself to his feet. He held out his hand and watched as his skin... Turned liquid and the pain returned... But it wasn’t from the shock-collar, in fact, Banshee took it off of him.

He could... Try and change form, but only seconds after the change started he felt his chest tighten and his breathing seize-... Like a heart-attack.

“... What did you do?”

“... I gave your heart a jump-start... Your ability to change forms relies completely on your ability to breathe less via your skin... Well. Really hard to do that if you have arrhythmia.” Banshee bent down to him. “You won’t ever be able to use your quirk without hurting yourself ever again.”

Moments later the sound of police-sirens from outside could be heard.

“Hail to the queen, Alloy.”

[diinofayce]

Like A Whisper In The Night pt2

Pairing: BuckyxOFC | Word Count: 5,178 | Warnings: Swearing, talk of human trafficking

Previous Chapter

Chapter Two

Layne opened her eyes when she felt the quinjet touch down on the tarmac. She groaned and stretched her cramped shoulder muscles, her attention grabbed by Greg Andrews who was yelling at them all through a strip of fabric that he was being gagged with. 

“Welcome back, kid,” Steve chirped pleasantly, clapping his right hand on her knee. Layne smiled softly, still unused to any real interaction with the main squad. Bucky just caught her eyes with his and gave a reaffirming smile. 

Bucky had spent the flight back to Stark Tower keeping a careful side eye on Layne as she napped. He bantered with Steve and Nat with Clint adding his own snarky remarks here and there. Whenever the quinjet jostled, even a little, his eyes immediately shot over to Layne to make sure she wasn’t disturbed. It wasn’t until touchdown that he had gently tapped her away with his foot, pretending not to notice Steve and Nat smirking at each other.

“Thanks,” she said softly. “What are you guys going to do with Greg?” 

Natasha got up and opened the door to the quinjet; hopping out she offered her hand to Layne which was gratefully accepted. 

Steve attached his shield to his back and took Andrews when Bucky passed him off. “We’re going to take him down to holding. Black Widow will be heading the interrogation.” He answered, his hand holding Greg Andrews’ upper arm firmly making the older man walk nearly on his tiptoes.  

“Can I come watch?” Layne asked, hope filling her voice. The team seemed to be warming up to her, and she was hoping she could ride out that good luck into actually seeing Natasha in action.  

“Nope,” Steve replied, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “You’re going to go to get checked out by Dr. Cho and then write your report. I want a full explanation of what happened.”

Layne tried not to look defeated. She could argue that she felt fine and could just do with a nap, but she knew that arguing with Captain America was probably not a good idea. She also didn’t think an argument of procrastination on her report would go over well either, but she still couldn’t help the snark of; “Not like anyone will actually read it.” 

Layne stalked off ahead of them with fire in her steps. Bucky and Clint came up behind the shell-shocked looking Steve, both trying very hard not to laugh. “You should let her watch, Cap,” Clint said.

“She was the one to get him, after all,” Bucky added, smirking as Steve sighed in defeat. 

“Yeah, alright. Someone go hunt her back down while I bring this scumbag downstairs,” Cap ordered, hauling Andrews into the facility.

“Go get her, tiger,” Clint laughed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder as he passed by him. 

“What? Why me?” Bucky barked back.

“I have to go check the quinjet back in. Plus, I don’t know. I feel like you might enjoy the walk.” Clint yelled back without looking at his teammate who was flushing a very telling shade of pink.

Bucky let out a huff of air, shooting the lock of dark brown curl that had dangled down next to his nose out of the way. “Enjoy the walk. Whatever the fuck that means. You enjoy the walk.”

Muttering to himself like he was most people avoided him in his hunt for Layne. Even Pepper had started approaching him with a file before her right eyebrow shot up and she detoured into a side room to look for someone - anyone - else. He took the elevator to the living quarters but stopped dead when the doors chimed opened, and he was faced with rows of doors. The sudden realization that he didn’t even know what room was hers hit him. What kind of teammate were they to her that none of them knew the extent of her powers or where she lived or even what she liked to order at the bar? Which was weird because what Bucky did know about Layne was that she always chewed her left thumbnail when she was concentrating on a book or her phone and that she washed her hair every three days because the third day it was always up in a bun. He knew she preferred Converses over combat boots, something that drove Cap up the wall, and that she could spit better than some men he knew which was oddly charming. Bucky knew a ton of superficial things, nothing of any real value, but he doubted most of the team noticed them. Now to figure out which door was hers, rubbing his hands together he went down the list in the process of elimination.

~*~

Layne slammed the door to her room shut and pulled out her phone to send an S.O.S. text to Wanda. She pulled a bottle of white wine out of the mini fridge in her room and pulled down two glasses and a corkscrew. She looked at herself in the mirror on her living room wall and let out a sigh; she looked like a mess. Her eyeliner had melted a bit and ran past her waterline, making her look like a raccoon after a bad trip, and a binder was barely containing her thick chestnut hair. Scrubbing at the eyeliner with her thumbs and ripping the binder out of her hair she raked her fingers through the chocolate mass, alleviating the pressure of it all being tied to the top of her skull. She took a step back and gave herself a once-over, she never really got used to seeing herself in the black uniform that matched the one Natasha wore mostly because she never got to wear it with any frequency. Layne tilted her head to the side, her hair all tumbling to the right in a sheet, as she reached up to the zipper at the top of her breastbone and zipped it down to just above her navel, a flash of red lace holding everything in place. For never being any sort of field agent Layne was still in fantastic shape, she had been doing kickboxing and yoga since she was fifteen, so her stomach was toned, and her ass was tight even outside of this sausage suit. She nodded at herself in approval; it felt good to let the girls breath a bit. Layne didn’t think she’d ever be Natasha Romanoff hot, but she could hold her own. She just had to make some plans to go out a bar with Wanda sometime soon so she could get some normal guys to look her way.

Layne picked up the corkscrew and went to work on the bottle of wine while thinking about the mission. Not even so much the mission, more so the post-mission in the plane. She thought about their conversations and felt a rush of appreciation again towards Clint when Layne remembered how he stood up for her. Although, the idea of her getting herself killed in some bought of need to prove herself was a bit exaggerated; Layne had a fantastic sense of self-preservation. She thought back to all the little ways Bucky had actually touched her; her hand, her knee, and when she had returned to her body she swore that it felt like someone had been touching her face. Layne had thought Barnes was attractive when she first came to Stark tower, but it became apparent pretty quick that he didn’t have the time of day for her. As soon as the team learned Layne didn’t have some super cool background or specialty combat training it felt like it became a game to see how long she would last.

Layne had her master’s degree from the University of Minnesota in science with a specialty in genetics. She had written her thesis paper on the genome that reacted with the Terrigen Mist and how it changed the DNA cell structure and the possibilities of it causing hereditary ramifications and the impact that would do to civilization. That was what had attracted Tony Stark to her to begin with, once he learned what Layne was capable of herself it opened up a whole different job offer than just working with Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner in the labs. Not that she didn’t do that too, microscopes were much more comfortable than guns.

Pouring herself a large glass of wine she took a deep drink just as there was a knock on the door and she felt almost giddy with excitement.

“Wanda! Finally!” Layne called through the door sliding open the lock. “Get a load of this…shit…” Layne trailed off, confused, as she opened the door to find Bucky Barnes on the other side of it and not Wanda. 

Bucky immediately flushed a brilliant crimson and cleared his throat, turning his head and pointing at her chest. Layne looked down at herself and let out a squeak, dropping her wine glass and slamming the lapels of her suit closed.   “Son of a bitch,” she swore, embarrassed, bending down to grab her glass and turning around quickly. Placing the glass on a side table and zipping her suit back up she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m so sorry, Barnes, I was expecting Wanda. You can come in.” Layne turned back to him, biting her lip and looking at him apologetically. 

Bucky nodded awkwardly and stepped into Layne’s room; he didn’t feel the need to mention that she was blushing as brilliantly as her bra which offset the creamy flesh of what he had seen of her chest and abdomen. He distracted himself around at the various band posters; Led Zeppelin, HIM, DOROTHY, Coheed & Cambria, and a big tapestry of Chris Cornell spattered the walls along with thirty or so odd shaped mirrors that hung in ornate and neon colored frames. “What’s, uh, what’s with all the mirrors?” Bucky asked pointing at one of them.

“They stop me from projecting in my sleep. Sometimes, if I’m not dreaming, I’ll project, and then the mirrors keep me in my room,” Layne explained, leaning against the back of her sofa.

“How do the mirrors manage that?” Bucky asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest, his pectorals flexing with the movement. Layne looked down the chorded muscle on his arms and had to refocus her thoughts quickly. She brought her eyes back to Bucky’s and was momentarily caught up in just how deep and blue they were. Shaking herself mentally she scolded herself for acting like a weird little school girl and telling herself sternly to focus.

“I can’t see in my astral form, not with normal vision anyway. Remember how that one time I told you it was kind of like being a ghost? Well, I can focus on people’s auras and am drawn in from there. I’m getting better at picking out individuals in a crowd, but usually, I’m drawn into a particularly strong aura. I found out though, thanks to Dr. Banner, that I’m far more interested in being in my own body. So we put up these mirrors because then my astral form will see my body right away and just go home. I didn’t want to risk taking over any of you in your sleep.” Layne explained, wringing her fingers together nervously.

“That is both cool and terrifying,” Bucky said with awe causing Layne to smile softly.

“It would be cooler if I could control it.”

“Well, how much do you practice?” 

Layne scoffed and shook her head. “How am I supposed to practice, Barnes? This was my first big kid mission, and it went questionable at best. No way Cap is going to want me puppy dogging along on another mission after this.” Layne moved past Bucky to pour herself another glass of wine since the first one was pitifully soaking into her carpet. 

Bucky smirked and took the wine glass from her hand, setting it back down on the table. “Well, I don't know about that. He thinks you’re capable enough to come watch the interrogation.”

“What? Does he? Why didn’t you lead with that, Barnes? Put your coat on, let’s go,” Layne grabbed her phone to shoot a quick text to Wanda for a rain check and opened the door for him.

“My coat is on,” Bucky replied sounding confused, following behind swiftly.

~*~

The elevator doors opened, and Layne rushed out, Bucky reached out to with his flesh hand to catch her by the wrist. “Hey, calm down. Remember, you’re an agent not a kid on a field trip,” Bucky scolded softly. Layne flushed and let out a huff of air. She wanted to argue but knew he was right she needed to get her house in order. Layne steeled herself and nodded sharply, Bucky smirked and let go of her wrist. Layne’s fingers twitched, and she was confused at how her body seemed to miss his touch suddenly. “And you keep calling me Barnes. You know, you’re allowed to call me Bucky.”

Layne hummed softly and followed Bucky down the hallway, staying a step back as he stopped at a large steel door and knocked twice. Steve opened the door and looked at Bucky and Layne waiting in the hall before stepping back and letting them in, closing the door behind them. Layne walked up to the window and watched Natasha try to pry information out of Andrews. The older man’s hair was disheveled, the white streaks sticking out of the ink black in tufts, and his eyes were still bloodshot. Dried blood crusted and cracked around his mouth and peppered the collar of his dress shirt from where his nose was bleeding during his mental struggle with Layne.

Layne stiffened, only for a second, as Steve stood behind her. “What happened in his head, Whisper?” Steve had his Captain voice on, and Layne tilted her head a little to the left, wondering if she was part of this interrogation as well.

“I was following Barnes up the stairwell to the roof when my vision swam, and it felt like a Dremel tool was powering through my ears. I couldn’t focus, I could only hear high pitched squealing,” Layne recounted, her memory flashing back on the stairwell. She took a shaky breath as she watched Natasha coax a smirk from Andrews, his thin lips widening to reveal teeth that were too white and too straight. Her eyes glazed over slightly as she slipped back into the memory. “It was like, tentacles almost, reaching out of the darkness and wrapping around me. But there isn’t a ‘me’, really, just my being and there isn’t a ‘him’. Usually, when I take over someone their being is ejected from their body, there can only be one host at a time, but Andrews found his way back in, and it was like he was trying to strangle me. I couldn’t focus on keeping control of his body because I had to focus on keeping Andrews out of me. It was like hot honey, and I couldn’t shake free. I took what last bit of control I had and asked Barnes to knock me out.”

Layne jumped slightly as Steve put his hand on her shoulder. “Has that happened before?” he asked, his voice losing it’s commanding edge feeling much softer; like a parent comforting a child after a nightmare.

“Sort of. Back in Hong Kong with the acrobatic Hydra agent,” Layne cast her caramel eyes to Bucky, and he looked at the floor, shifting from one foot to the other. “It’s okay, I always understood why you had to shoot her, I actually set you up to shoot her. She was the first Inhuman I tried to overtake; I wasn’t expecting the power in her blood to feel like it did and when I overtake someone initially I get random flashes of their memories. Whether its memories they want me to see or they’re just pulled at random, I don’t know, but her were horrible and twisted and I got a little lost in them. I was stuck in her body, and I couldn’t push her out. I should have just left her but I saw her plan to attack Barnes, and I wanted to try and stop her. I blocked her abilities, but I couldn’t do much else,” Layne turned her focus back to Natasha and Andrews, flinching when Natalia pounded her fist on the table and slammed her chair back. Greg Andrews laughed at her openly, and Natasha just glared before slamming her way out of the room.

Bucky’s brows were furrowed as he looked up at Layne, her brown hair cascading down her shoulders and settling on the swell of her breasts. He liked her hair tied back more; Layne tended to try and hide behind the curtains of her hair. “I always wondered why she just ran straight for me. She had been flipping and dodging around that whole fight, and suddenly she just ran straight to me.” His blue eyes were looking at her with a mixture of confusion and awe.  

Layne nodded at him. “She hadn’t even used her abilities yet, she was a teleporter. She could tell I locked her down and it pissed her off. Then I set in her mind the plan to just charge you down.”

Steve had opened his mouth to say something when their door burst open and Natasha stomped in. 

“I don’t get it, Cap, I tried everything. I tried sexy, I tried mean, I tried saying please,” Natasha said looking like she had sucked on something sour. “He’s locked up tight and hiding behind some excuse that the kid scrambled his brains.”

“That’s a lie,” Layne said, still staring at him through the one-way mirror.  

“I know it is,” Nat sniped before turning back to Steve and Bucky. “What do we do?” 

“You send me in,” Layne said before the boys could open their mouths. All three of them whirled on her and stared at her like she had grown a second head. Layne steadied her gaze and planted her stance. “I can do it. I’ve been inside his head, I know his ticks, and if all else fails, I can just persuade him. It probably wouldn’t hold up in court if that’s what you’re going for here, but it’ll move us along the ladder,” she argued. When the three looked like they were just going to argue back, she held up her hands. “Please, trust me.” 

“What can it hurt?” Bucky caved looking at his teammates.  Layne looked at Bucky sharply, her eyes widened in slight surprise. Natasha scoffed and rolled her eyes, tossing a hand in the air.  

“Sure. Why not. Let her in, Cap.”  

Steve looked Layne dead in the eyes, “If I see any sign you’re losing ground, I’m pulling you out.” Layne nodded in understanding, and he opened the door for her. 

Leaving Bucky, Natasha, and Steve in the observation room, she put her hand on the knob of the interrogation room and took a deep breath. She readied herself and pushed the door open, closing it softly behind her. She glided over to the table with ease and flipped the chair around backward before slinging her leg over the side. Layne rested her forearms on the back of the chair and settled her chin on them; she locked her warm golden eyes to the cold steel grey of Greg Andrews’.

They sat there in silence, Greg fidgeting slightly causing Layne to cock her head to the right and smile at him softly. She never lost eye contact with the sleeze of man. Layne had to assert dominance, that was the number one that made Andrews’ uncomfortable, women in power. He had to have control, feel on top, and Layne had every intention of sitting here calmly until he cracked.

In the observation room, Bucky, Natasha, and Steve all stood right up to the glass, shoulders almost touching. Bucky tried hard to not stare at Layne’s ass as she straddled the chair, the black fabric stretching over her curves in a way that made the spot between his eyebrows sweat. They watched with bated breath as they stared silently at each other waiting for the other one to make the first move.

“She looks oddly comfortable in there,” Steve assessed, chin in his hand as he chewed softly on his middle knuckle.

“Well, she’s been in his head. I’m sure sitting at the same table isn’t nearly as daunting,” Bucky answered, the conversation helping to break the stare he had locked on Layne’s backside. 

Natasha put a hand up to silence them as Layne lifted her head, putting her left elbow on the back of the chair and her chin in her hand. Greg had broken the eye contact first, looking down at his shaking hands. Natasha hadn’t scared him, she didn’t know the things about him that Layne knew. 

“So, Greg,” Layne spoke lazily, sounding like she didn’t want even to be there. “I’m sure you don’t really want to talk to me. I know Black Widow and I are much older than the girls you usually like to spend your time with.”

Andrews stiffened and his hand shot to the knot of his tie, for the first time looking a little uncomfortable. He knew that this woman had been inside his mind, controlled his body, knew so many of his secrets, but he didn’t understand how. “You have no proof,” he rasped, and Layne just shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re completely correct. I do not have proof, but I’m not here looking to throw proof at your feet. I’m here to save those girls and I’m hoping you could just tell me about them. Where you got them, where they are, why Hydra wants them, that sort of thing,” Layne drawled, drawing invisible circles on the table top with her finger.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Andrews insisted, fidgeting with the lapels on his suit jacket.

“You run a security company, yes? Why don’t you tell me about the security files you had on your office computer for Hydra?” Layne asked coolly.  

“Why don’t you just dive back into my head and find out for yourself?” Andrews sneered in a last-ditch attempt to sound like he had control and wasn’t afraid of her, slamming his hands on the table in front of him, his long bony fingers splayed out on the cold metal surface. 

Layne’s hand that had been drawing little patterns on the table lashed out as quick as a whip and grabbed one of his hands in her small one. He gasped and tried to pull back but Layne’s grip was firm, and she slowly turned his hand over so the palm was facing the ceiling and she brought her other hand over to trace the deep lines in Andrews’ palm with the tip of her pointer finger.

The three agents in the observation room were all but holding their breath, watching her with fascination. The calm and serene manner that she was handling this interrogation was that of an experienced professional, not the goofy lackadaisical girl they were so familiar with seeing around the Tower. Natasha was pulling on her bottom lip softly with her fingers as she watched Layne with rapt attention, Steve has paused the soft chewing on his knuckle, but it stayed in his mouth as his curiosity piked. Bucky was leaned against the frame of the one-way glass, his hands on the sill as he stared intently at the scene unfolding. He watched as Layne took Andrews’ hand in her own and a weird sensation of nausea and anger flared in the pit of his stomach; it was a like a bear waking up from hibernation and letting out a roar that shook the forest. Bucky’s fingers gripped the window sill and his shoulders locked as Layne traced a lineup and down Andrews’ forearm, following the bright blue vein from his wrist.

“I think, Gregory, it would behoove both of us if you could just tell me,” Layne whispered sweetly. What the three in the observation room couldn’t see were the big doe eyes she looked at Andrews with and how the warm caramel of her eyes flared to life with a brilliant amber glow, like someone poured molten lava into her irises. Andrews took a visible gulp and cleared his throat, his gaze starting to cloud over.

“I-I can’t. They’ll kill me,” he answered, his voice strained.

“You’re not worried about them, Gregory. You know you’re safe with me. It’s just you and me here, and no one here can hurt you,” Layne soothed, her fire eyes staring deep into Andrews’ trying to convince him to yield.

Greg tried one last weak and futile attempt to take his hand back from Layne before giving in and letting his posture slump. It was as if the weight of his life suddenly came pounding down on his shoulders. He sighed and loosened his tie with his free hand.  

“Hydra hasn’t been able to source girls from The Red Rooms in Russia for a few years now. They started with the mail order girls of Thailand and Russia instead, finding that for every ten girls they brought to their facilities at least half showed promise of something more. I had hired an intern a few years back who turned out to be one of their insurgents; they have people placed in almost every prominent company in the world. I thought at first they wanted my company for the security features we provide, but it turns out they had discovered my taste for…for Asian massage parlors. Soon I had gained them access to the deep underbelly of human trafficking and I couldn’t get out unless they released photos of myself and a few underage girls to the press,” Andrews’ explained, looking and sounding exhausted.

“Where are they taking them?” Layne asked, bile high in her throat and she could feel her energy beginning to drop drastically but if she could just keep it up for a little bit longer. If she could only find out where they were taking the girls, then she could go back and finish that bottle of wine (that was half gone and she got basically none of) and take a nap.

“I don’t know that. I knew Hydra had a base in Hong Kong, but your people infiltrated it. They had just enough time to get all the girls out before your lot blew it all up.”

“What happened to the girls who didn’t show promise?” Layne asked, fearing the answer.

“All I know is they didn’t get sent back,” Andrews responded, confirming her fear.

“Who was your contact?” Layne asked reaching down into a pocket on her thigh and coming out with a pen and paper. She placed it in front of him and resumed lightly stroking his arm. “You should write it down for me, so I don’t forget.” If Bucky watched Layne’s fingers close enough he could see the skin she brushed on Andrews’ arm would let out a soft glow, like a faint flashlight lived under his skin. Just watching Layne use her powers of persuasion looked warm and soothing and he couldn’t help but wonder if she could do that glow thing without using her ability. He had an odd image of Layne tracing her magic fingers down his bare chest, his skin lighting up like fireflies, and had to shake his head to regain focus.

Andrews licked his lips before grabbing the pen and sliding the paper to him, writing down a name and a phone number. “Her name is Mae Ling; she drove the van that would pick up the girls. That’s the only contact I have.”

“What other dealings did you have with Hydra?” Layne asked, making a mental note of the phone number scribbled down.

“My security systems are in place in most major weapons makers and distributing sights, including local gun shops. When they needed to make a hit I just made sure the security system failed,” Andrews said with ease. Layne swiped up the pad and pen and broke contact with Andrews, he gasped and looked like his heart had been ripped from his chest. “What are you?” he asked her shakily, the clouded gaze leaving his eyes only to be replaced with fear. He clutched the arm Layne had been holding to his chest like it was going to fall off of him.

“Nothing but a whisper,” she said with a sneer and stood up, leaving him alone in the interrogation room. Hearing the door click closed behind her she let out a whoosh of air and placed her palms flat on the wall across from her, her arms outstretched and her head down. She felt like cement weights were attached to her all over her body. The door to the observation room opened and the three stepped out from where they had been watching with surprise and appreciation.

“Layne, that was fantastic,” Steve praised, holding his hands out in case she should drop. Concern was etched over all their faces when she looked up and smiled softly to try to alleviate it. “How did you handle that so calm?” 

“Thanks, it just takes a lot out of me. I don’t do it a lot. He hates feeling like he doesn’t have influence over women, Natasha was working too hard to get information out of him, it made him feel like he had power. I had to take that feeling away,” Layne explained and passed the notepad to Natasha. “You’ll probably want to run that right away.” Natasha nodded taking the notepad and then cautiously reaching out and placed her palm on Layne’s cheek. 

“You did great,” she said before turning around and taking off to bring the information to intelligence. 

“I need to go debrief Fury. Andrews can sit in there a bit and sweat, you, however,” Steve said focusing back on Layne. “Need to get back to your room and rest. I’ll make sure to put in a glowing review after today’s mission. I’m glad Bucky and Clint talked me into letting you watch.” Cap clapped Bucky on his metal shoulder before heading to the elevators. 

Layne looked at Bucky with her eyebrows knitted together. “You helped convince Cap to let me watch today? Why?” she asked, not that she was complaining or anything, but it’s not like he’d ever stuck his neck out for her before. Or had anything to do with her before. Sticking up for her to come watch the interrogation and then to actually get in the room with Andrews was a new side of Bucky that she hadn’t experienced.

Bucky just shrugged, “Seemed only fair. You’re the one that caught him in the first place. Come on, doll, let’s get you back to your place."

Layne snorted with laughter and pushed herself off the wall, teetering slightly before finding her balance again. “Taking me to my door. What a gentleman you are.”

Bucky flushed and ducked his head, letting his hair fall around his face to hide it. “Yeah, well, it’s not a big deal. Plus, you’re going to need all your energy. After what we saw in there you can bet your butt Natasha is going want a front seat demonstration.”

Layne let out a groan, and she punched the button on the elevator to go up to the living quarters. “Should have run off to join the circus,” she moaned. The doors closing on her and Bucky as he let out a raucous laugh.

NEXT CHAPTER

Tag List

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[botanistlester]

Sweet Pea (3/?)

Summary: A nickname that goes bitter in your mouth. Cries for help that no one listens to. Gentle hands that make you quake on the ground you’re standing on. When Phil first met Nico, he thought he was a gift from the heavens. But behind the mask lies something daunting, something unnerving, that Phil never foresaw. Through his journey, he finds solace in Dan, the regular at his workplace, who seems to be the only one who sees through Nico’s mask to the darkness underneath. Warnings: Abusive relationship, violence A/N: Hello and good morning/evening/night! This week has been SO crazy and I almost couldn't upload because I didn't have internet until yesterday! But guess what?! I'm finally in my very first APARTMENT! it's so amazing tbh and i have a table cloth that has a bunch of cacti on it and we bought a shit ton of flowers. Wish you could all see it! Anyways, thanks again to @snowbunnylester and @littlelionsloves for betaing this for me! I hope you all enjoy it! Lyric credit: Welcome Home - Coheed and Cambria Previous | Masterlist

Read it on AO3 Read it on Wattpad

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Chapter Three

Well you're just as I presumed. You're a whore in sheep's clothing, fucking up all I do.

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A week later, they decided to go to a shopping outlet, and Phil could hardly contain his excitement. He hadn’t been out and about with friends in so long, and to do so with Nico was like a dream come true. It was as if he was living in a constant dream with Nico by his side, and he couldn’t believe he had found someone who suited him so perfectly. They decided to quite literally shop until they dropped, and Phil decided to try on a few items of clothing despite the fact that he didn’t have any money to spend, being a poor uni student and all. They entered Topman, and Phil began to ravage the racks, raking his eyes over each article of clothing until his eyes were aching.

In the end, he decided to try on a tank top with geometric patterns all over it, a white shirt with a lemon on the breast, and another with roses on the shoulders. He tried each one on to show Nico, jokingly putting on a fashion show as if he was some over-the-top model. “Sexy!” Nico applauded to the rose shirt. “Hot!” he exclaimed over the lemon shirt. “I saved the best for last,” Phil giggled, speaking through the door as he pulled the tank top over his head. This was the one he was the most excited about, even though he typically didn’t wear tank tops. He just really appreciated the contrast of the dark shirt with the orange and red geometric patterns. It was cool, and Phil liked to feel cool. He emerged once he was wearing it, striking some dumb pose with his hands on his hips and his lips in a ‘sexy’ pout. “Ta-da!” he squealed, and waited for Nico’s input. He was certain that Nico would like it just as much as Phil did. However he didn’t really get the reaction he was looking for.

Nico was silent for a long while, just staring at him, and if Phil didn’t know any better then he would have thought that Nico was checking him out. The only reason that Phil knew Nico wasn’t was because of his expression. Usually, Nico had a smile on his face. He was a very smiley person, which is one of the things about him that made him attractive to Phil. But now, his dark eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were set in a hard line as he ran his eyes over Phil’s exposed shoulders and the tight fitting torso. Suddenly Phil felt very small, even though he was taller than Nico was by a good four inches.

“I don’t like it,” Nico said simply after a moment. Phil’s shoulders slumped and he could feel himself trying to get himself to be as small as possible. “Why not?”

Nico shrugged noncommittally. “It’s too…” Nico waved his hand around, gesturing to Phil’s chest and bare shoulders. “Revealing, I suppose. A bit slutty. You belong to me, remember? I don’t want anyone else to look at you.” His voice had a joking tone to it, but his eyes were serious, and Phil couldn’t help but feel guilty for even picking out something that revealed his shoulders. Nico was right, Phil did belong to him, and if it made Nico uncomfortable when Phil wore that kind of thing, then he wouldn’t feel comfortable knowing his boyfriend didn’t like it. “You’re right,” Phil said lightly. He let a laugh bubble out of his chest, just a small one to hide the disappointment dwelling there. “I didn’t even think about that.” He didn’t wait for Nico to answer before he was closing the door to the dressing room once more and stripping himself of the offending item as if it had burnt him. He didn’t even want to look at it anymore.

Phil ended up buying the lemon shirt and the rose shirt even though he didn’t have much money, while Nico bought a Led Zeppelin shirt, adding to his ever-growing collection of band shirts. Phil told him that he looked good in it, and that was enough for Nico to buy it.

They went through a few more shops after that, giggling and having an all around good time. Soon enough, Phil almost completely forgot about what had happened in Topman and had just started to focus on how they were able to bond and get to know each other better. Nico was funny, he was always making Phil laugh and showing him things in stores that he thought Phil would like. “This would look so good on you,” Nico exclaimed, holding out a black object.

Phil took hold of it so he could get a closer look, and when he realised what it was, he crinkled his nose. “A choker? Really?” he deadpanned, unamused. Did he look like someone who would go around wearing chokers all the time? It was pretty enough, made out of black velvet with a little moon dangling from it, but it just didn’t feel like an object Phil would actively wear in public.

Nico pouted at him, sticking out his lip, and Phil had trouble holding himself back so he didn’t surge forward and capture those pink lips with his own. “Please? It’d look so good on you, sweet pea!” With the nickname, Phil could feel himself melting, becoming jelly just from two words. He turned the choker around in his hands and sighed.

“Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.” He smiled and shoved the object back at Nico. “Help me try it on?” Nico didn’t complain and took the necklace from him, unbuckling it and wrapping it around Phil’s neck. The fabric was smooth against his skin and the moon settled against his throat lightly, a small weight that let him know it was there. It was slightly too tight though, made him feel like he was choking slightly, and it wasn’t exactly pleasant. But Nico’s fingers were gentle, skimming lightly against his skin, which made Phil relax into the touch. “It’s so tight,” Phil murmured, pulling at the choker with a single finger. He made a face, sticking his tongue out. “I feel as if it’s choking me.”

Nico snorted and touched the moon with his pointer finger. He was smiling though, looking at Phil as if he was the best thing in the world. “I like it on you. It compliments your skin so nicely.” He sighed and hummed a bit, taking his hand away while Phil was in the midst of freaking out over the complement. “I wish I could just kiss you right now.”

Phil looked at him strangely, cocking his head in question. He didn’t quite understand what Nico meant by that. Why couldn’t Nico kiss him? In fact, now that Phil’s thinking about it… Nico had never shown him any public displays of affection. He never tried to hold Phil’s hand, never tried to kiss him, never tried to do anything unless they were in the cover of their own homes. "Why..." Phil started, suddenly feeling himself falling into a pit of despair over the realisation. "Why can't you?"

It was like everything stopped for a moment. Phil became far too aware of the sudden grimace taking over Nico’s face, the way his mouth screwed up into a frown. His eyebrows furrowed, making him look angry, and Phil didn’t understand what he said to make him seem so upset. After a moment of silence, Nico spoke in a low tone and turned Phil around so he could unclip the necklace. “I have anxiety about things like that,” Nico mumbled quietly.

“Anxiety? What do you mean?” “Public displays of affection just make me anxious,” he explained. “I don’t like the feeling of everyone staring at me and judging me for who I’m with. It doesn’t mean I don’t adore you any less, I just get nervous about that kind of thing. So don’t take it personally.”

The confession made relief swell through Phil’s belly, the knowledge that it wasn’t because Nico disliked him making him feel rather dizzy. “I understand,” Phil promised, smiling at Nico as a way to cheer him up a little. It didn’t seem to work, almost as if Phil had struck a chord within Nico, and even though he said it was okay that Phil had asked, he still seemed rather bummed. Even though he did end up buying the choker for Phil.

They began to walk back to the tube, the sky beginning to grow dim as the sun began it’s descent. The disappointment from earlier had faded to the back of his mind, instead being replaced with a pleasant hum as Nico grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly. It was the first time Phil had held his hand in public, and pride made his stomach flip. He liked how Nico’s hands were bigger than his own, completely engulfing them with his strong hold. He liked how it made him feel safe and wanted.

They were halfway back to the station when a shop caught Phil’s eye and he gasped loudly, gaining the attention of Nico. “A sweet shop!” Phil exclaimed a bit too loudly, and Nico laughed and shook his head. “D’ya wanna go in?” “Of course I wanna go in!” Phil’s weakness had always been sweet shops, and today was no exception. He danced around the place as if he owned it, peeking into the plastic containers to gape at whatever candy he found in there. He was trying to hold himself back, trying not to buy anything else, because he knew for a fact that he had precisely £12.50 left in his wallet, which wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy his dire need for sweets. “Phil, we’re gonna miss the tube,” Nico informed him after five minutes of watching Phil whine about how much candy he couldn’t afford. Phil groaned and nodded, turning back to Nico to walk out of the store.

Then he saw it and his mouth dropped open. “Holy shit!” he gasped, walking over to the stuffed animal display that had caught his attention. “What now?” Nico sighed, and Phil didn’t have to look at him to know he was most likely running a hand through his hair, just like he always did when he was getting annoyed. “Look at this,” Phil demanded, snatching a stuffed red panda from the shelf. He shoved it in Nico’s face and giggled a bit as Nico glowered at him. “It’s a fox,” Nico said. “Red panda,” Phil corrected, taking it away from Nico’s face and holding it to his chest. He checked the price on it and gasped. It was exactly £12.50 and Phil knew he wasn’t going to leave the store without the thing. He made puppy dog eyes at Nico. “Nico, please just a minute longer? I need him, I just need to pay real quick! No one’s in line!”

“But we’re going to miss our tube,” Nico hissed in a hushed tone, and Phil had to resist the urge to stomp his foot like a child. “It’ll only take a second, Nico! We’ll make our ride. Stop worrying so much.”

“Stop being so self-centered.” “I am not self-centered for wanting to purchase something.”

After five minutes straight of bartering and complaining (in which they could have totally paid by now), Phil finally got his wish and they headed to the register, Phil with a pep in his step and Nico with a begrudging expression on his face. “That’ll be £15 exact,” the cashier said with an overly cheerful smile as the world crashed down around Phil.

“I only have £12.50,” Phil whimpered, and he heard Nico laugh a bit humourlessly behind him. The woman gave him a pitying expression, as if he was a child who was getting his favourite candy taken away from him.

“I might have some extra change,” Nico muttered, starting to pat his pockets. He opened his wallet and dumped out the contents, and Phil watched in amusement as a bunch of coins clattered on the counter. The poor cashier was still smiling, except now it seemed rather forced. Nico and Phil started counting up the change, desperately hoping that they had enough to get the damned stuffed animal. It was stupid that they were going through so much trouble just for the red panda, but they were both giggling despite how annoyed Nico had seemed before, and Phil knew he wouldn’t regret this purchase in the slightest.

“Fifteen!” Nico shouted suddenly, scaring the shit out of Phil and making him jump.

He watched with wide eyes as Nico shoved the excessive amount of coins at the woman, smiling bashfully. “Sorry about that, ma’am. We can pay for the animal now.” Phil cheered and cradled his new stuffed animal in his arm, giving Nico a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Nico crinkled his face and pushed Phil away a bit too roughly, but Phil didn’t pay any mind to it. “Thank you so much,” Phil murmured, his cheeks beginning to ache from smiling so much. Nico seemed to melt at that and gave him a small kiss on the lips, so quick that Phil barely felt it. It still made him feel warm all the way down to his toes.

“Anything for you, sweet pea,” Nico replied, and Phil couldn’t stop smiling the entire way home.

Chapter Four