#but yeah hopefully once i finish this course and my taxes i can find a good balance between art and reading and everything else

[needsmustleap]

Do you create? What? Why?

mmmmm uh haha um. Sort of, sometimes.. I like drawing and stuff but I've been taking this course that has eaten up a lot of my free time so i haven't done any art stuff in a while. Should be all done with it really soon though so hopefully it won't be long before i can get back to it/a good routine. I had this whole art renaissance at the end of 2023/beg. 2024 where I just had this like epiphany re art and was super motivated and enjoying it, so hopefully i can back to that. But yeah I like the process of drawing. I mostly draw from observation, and i love how it gets me to really look at what I'm seeing and appreciate all the details. And i enjoy the puzzle of it, of figuring out how to represent the subject on the page. The epiphany i had was literally just basic art advice you hear everywhere lol but i had spent months in this rut of focusing on the outcome/end product of a drawing and getting really frustrated and upset with what i was doing. Eventually i like clawed myself to the realization that that was the problem and I need to make art solely for the love of the process. It's hard bc it's so easy to want to chase the feeling you get when you make something you're happy with, but I found i would start a drawing and want every line I put down to be immediately gorgeous, and i just a) don't have the skill for that and b) was putting so much energy into wanting it look good that I wasn't focusing on any of the principles or techniques that actually help build a drawing that looks good. Bad all around lol. But also, I can flip through that sketchbook and see evidence that i was learning things, even despite all that. So yeah. Generated a lot of motivation and good feelings.

Thank you for the qs! I wasn't expecting to actually receive any let alone so quickly haha but i love the opportunity to ramble :)

[umbracirrus]

WIP Wednesday 💛

Hehehe, Wednesday is here again and I am feeling very excited because after a few weeks of doing drawings instead of writing, I've started getting back into the swing of things with writing! Plus it was nice to just take a break from putting words on paper, it felt refreshing re-opening my documents the other day.

I come with not one, but two snippets! One from an upcoming chapter of The Perfect Storm featuring Fjora and Sorik, two of my beloved Whiterun Guards, the other from the first chapter of As a leaf would scatter to the wind, which as of yet hasn't been posted (though I'm nearly there in getting it done, I hope!) featuring my dragonborn Aevra 😊

Tagging @thequeenofthewinter, @throughtrialbyfire, and anyone who wants to post a WIP! No obligations, of course :)

-------

Snippet 1:

“Aren’t you going out into the festivities? It’s the first time it’s been held in years, and you’re cooped up in here...”

A quill, thankfully not one which had been dipped into ink yet, tapped against a piece of empty parchment. The quill’s owner hummed thoughtfully, then nodded. “I’ll be heading out soon, Sor. Just want to finish writing this letter to a friend, then I’ll meet you out there.”

From where they were stood in the doorway of the barracks, Sorik sighed and shook their head. “Writing to your mystery friend again, Fjora? Are they that important that you’re taking our first night off-duty since getting officially instated, on the night of your favourite festival, to write to them? Who even is it?!”

“Somebody who hates a late reply, that’s who. I’m sorry, I intended to write this earlier but with all the hubbub with the meadery and being stationed out there, I’ve barely had the chance to even think of replying until now. It’s going to ruin the fun if it’s on my mind when out in the festivities, y’know?”

Again, Sorik sighed, but went and turned around to head out. “Fine, fine... But I’m not telling you what happens if you miss out on the inevitable drunken chaos once Hulda cracks open the barrels of spiced mead. Or saving you any!”

Fjora’s lip turned up at the corner, singing out her response to the threat. “You will~”

“No I wooon’t,” Sorik mocked, attempting to match her tone. “Guard’s salary, remember? You’re getting your own drinks, and that’s if you even get out of here tonight... So hopefully, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah... I’ll see you later. And don't worry, I’ll drag your drunken ass back here after.”

As soon as the door shut behind them, Fjora let out a sigh and ran her hands down her face, forgetting about the quill between her fingers until she felt a stinging line down her cheek from where the point had scraped against her skin. Trying to find the words she needed was... Hard. And she had no time – she had to get the document posted no later than the next morning. No courier would be able to take it that evening, so it would have to be then.

Taking a deep breath, she dipped the nib into her ink, and brought the quill to the paper.

Whiterun has mostly been quiet since I took on guard duties. Numbers are thin and wages crap meagre, but the Jarl has been finding funds to try and bolster numbers somehow? Probably raised taxes, but I won’t assume. Training was rather curious though – nothing like what I went through under you. The Dragonborn has been assisting in carrying it out, I was selected as part of the group put under her tutelage. She has a unique way with weapons, conjuring them as opposed to carrying them around. Prefers wielding two swords, though can wield both a battleaxe and a bow. She can look vulnerable and unarmed, then have her weapons drawn on you in an instant. She’s also rather intimidating when angry, the best way that I can put it is that you can feel the magic around her like pinpricks against your skin whilst the air that you breathe turns thick, as though you’re choking on it. But she’s otherwise calm and measured. Doesn't take much to get her to snap though. She lets the Jarl's eldest son watch the training she carries out too, I think she's got a soft spot for the boy or something. Otherwise, though I have been stationed in Dragonsreach on occasion since officially being named a guard, I have mostly been situated on the roads outside the city. There’s a cluster of farms out there which have recently been plagued by skeevers in what has turned out to be some sort of convoluted plot to take over the local meadery. It involved attempting to poison the residents of Dragonsreach, including the Jarl and Dragonborn, at some sort of planned mead tasting. Did I mention in a previous report that the Dragonborn has hidden behind the Jarl like a coward relocated to Dragonsreach as a security measure? I am going to put in the request to be stationed in Dragonsreach more frequently in the hopes that I can provide you with more information about the Jarl in future correspondence. As I have been able to establish something akin to a friendship? rapport with the Dragonborn, I may be able to use her to pull some strings. Sorik is also none the wiser. It is difficult concealing this from my friend, but I will not allow our friendship to jeopardise my mission. -F.

Fjora read and reread what she had written, almost certain that she would get a bollocking in her response over her level of formality and scribbles in what was meant to be an official report, but she didn’t really care. Something was better than nothing, and between her guard shifts and needing to sleep, time had not been on her side. Plus, the festival meant that this was the quietest the barracks had been in weeks.

Letting out a satisfied sigh, she folded the parchment, grabbed the envelope which had been set aside waiting, and inserted her message before sealing it. She then grabbed a book from under her bunk – knowing full well that nobody would dare touch a woman’s copy of Thief of Virtue, and slotted it between the pages. All she had to do in the morning was pull it back out, and get it in the hands of the first courier she could see on her way to her patrol route near the Battle-Born farm.

Snippet 2:

An Altmer slowly stumbled out of the foliage, and even in the looming darkness, he looked to have been worse for wear. Scrapes covered his skin, his robes were in tatters, and his eye looked swollen and bruised.

As Aevra approached the injured elf, the axe which was in her hand fell to the ground with a light thud. She was glad that she had let that happen, because mere moments later he keeled forward, a pained whine slipping from his lips as she caught him before he hit the ground.

Croaking quietly, the elf looked up at her, then forced a slight smile in her direction. "Y… You aren't one of them…"

"One of who, exactly?"

A painful sounding cough escaped his lips, followed by a weak groan. "Bandits. I was ambushed… The ruins nearby, Bthalft, had been taken over as I was… investigating. Barely escaped with my life."

Aevra frowned. Bandits in the vicinity of the camp was not good – she needed to inform the General and the Legate in charge of both that and the elf's presence… plus there was the chopped firewood which she needed to get moved.

"You don't look capable of moving right now. Are you okay to remain here for a few moments? I need to let my superiors-"

"No. I just… need a moment to catch my breath. Then I can heal myself and be on my way… Just needed somewhere safe to do so."

Once more, she felt her mouth being tugged downward at that statement, but she felt the sincerity in his words. As such, she helped him with sitting in the grass, before returning to her dropped axe and picking it up. There was a slight chime from behind her, in the direction from the elf, accompanied by a faint golden glow – distinctly that of a healing spell.

Deciding that there simply wasn't enough light to chop what remained of the wood in a reasonably safe manner, she picked up the small log she had been about to chop with her spare hand and tossed it back onto the pile needing to be cut, then meandered over to the pile of wood which had been chopped. It would take two or three trips to get it all to their appropriate destinations across camp… perhaps she could ask for assistance from one of the others when she brought in the first load.

"Ah… finally, much better."

She turned around, and noticed that the elf had indeed healed himself, had stood up, and was now dusting off his robes, tutting at the tears which were in the fabric.

Aevra pursed her lips together as she took a moment to look at the elf and take in his appearance in the dim light. The robes that he was wearing… they were awfully familiar. Unsettlingly so. When she realised what they were, she had to try to conceal the building anxiety which was forming in the pits of her stomach. Only one organisation came to mind at the sight of dark robes detailed in gold. She'd killed numerous wearing the same back in the Great War, and no doubt worked with just as many since. It was impossible not to recognise it. "You… You're a member of the Thalmor, aren't you?" And another, unspoken question lingered in her mind – just how did he get jumped by mere bandits? The Thalmor were very much prone to bragging of their capabilities…

A quiet snort came from the elf as he approached her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "That I am."  Slowly, the corner of his lips turned up. "And you..."

[bestofbucky]

Eavesdrop

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: none really, enemies to ?

A/N: This is my first time posting something I have written. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much @tuiccim for your help, couldn’t have done it without you.

Being an Avenger is tough. Of course, there are the obvious missions and kicking ass that are exhausting, especially because you don’t have any sort of enhancements or powers. You are just a regular human being, fighting with and against some not so regular human beings. Naturally when you have downtime, you spend it doing things with the least amount of effort. Watching Netflix, listening to music, taking baths, etc, meaning that your social life outside of the compound was, to put it simply, non-existent.

You had just returned from the worst date of your life, well, one of the top five worst dates of your life. Over the past couple of months Steve and Natasha had grown tired of you whining about being single but not making any effort to change it and began sending you on blind dates. Somehow, they managed five different times to find five completely awful people. This time they had set you up with Arthur, a recruit for SHIELD and a good one at that. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him on the elite squad soon, but when it came to your date, he was really blunt and inappropriate, and you had cringed your way through the entire thing.

Once you got back to the compound, you first went to your room to get changed into gym clothes for training with Nat, then headed to her room. On your way you passed one of the common rooms and heard two voices. One familiar but one you didn’t recognise, you decided to check it out and found Steve and another man.

Steve called your name inviting you over to them as they both stood up. ‘This is Bucky. He’s moving in today to begin training.’ Steve explains. You nod and smile at Bucky, remembering Steve told you about him and that he would be living here and eventually joining the team.

You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud at the sight of him. He is a 6 ft something hunk of muscle and beauty and you can’t stop yourself from trying to take him all in with your eyes.

Steve then introduces you to Bucky who looks in your eyes for all of two seconds to say, ‘hi’ before looking down at his feet. He is probably really nervous. Even from that two second glance, you could tell he had one hell of a past. They had you hooked already, you wanted to stare into those eyes and let them tell you the stories of the lifetime they had seen.

‘You were just in Wakanda right? How was it? I have only ever seen it in pictures but I really want to go.’ You let your excitement show, hoping to relax him a bit.

‘Yeah, it was nice. I was frozen for most of it though’ Shit, he curses himself. He didn’t mean to come across so rude but he was really nervous, you are really pretty and it is messing with his head a little. It doesn’t help that he has had to meet a lot of different people today and he is all socialised out. He sees your face fall slightly before you quickly compose yourself, any normal person would have missed it but he has his past of being a trained assassin.

‘Well, Nat is probably waiting for me, she told me she would show me some new moves today.’ You say realising that Bucky had probably been under a lot of stress lately and most likely just wanted to be alone, or with Steve rather than chatting to you, a stranger. At least you hoped this was the reason and it wasn’t that he already disliked you. Saying goodbye to the two of them you head off to Natasha’s room.

Not even bothering to knock, you walk into her room leaving the door open behind you, since you’ll be heading down to the gym soon anyway. Natasha is sitting on the end of the bed braiding her hair. ‘You almost ready?’ You ask.

‘Yeah, just got to finish my hair then put my shoes on.’ She tells you so you take a seat on her bed while you wait.

Meanwhile, Bucky told Steve that he wanted to go get his room sorted. Really it was just an excuse to be alone for a little while. On the way there he walked past a room with the door open and heard two voices talking, recognising them to be you and Natasha. He was just about to carry on walking to his room when he heard Natasha ask, ‘did you meet him yet?’

Bucky assumed she was talking about him and wanted to hear what you had to say. He hoped you would be understanding of his reticence after his taxing morning. 

‘Yeah, I met him today.’ You sigh and roll your eyes.

‘That bad?’ Nat asks, raising her eyebrows with a slight smirk on her face.

‘Yes, I tried to be as friendly as I could but he seemed like a jerk.’ You huff.

‘How so?’

‘He was so blunt he just came across really rude. I had high expectations, especially after hearing Steve say so many nice things about him.’

‘Maybe he was just having a bad day?’ She attempts a defence. 

‘Bad day or not, he should have the courtesy to smile and be polite even if it is fake.’

Bucky was so hurt to hear this. Yes, he wasn’t the nicest to you but your reaction seemed a bit dramatic. He didn’t want to hear you say any more so he rushed off to his room.

‘So, I guess you aren’t going to go on a second date with him then?’ Nat asks.

‘No, I really appreciate you and Steve trying to set me up but seeing as this is the 5th time and none of them were any good, I think I’ll go back to my old methods.’ You smile at her.

‘What, never putting yourself out there and waiting for the right person to just fall into your lap?’ Nat teases and you both laugh when you nod. She finishes tying her shoelaces and you head off to the gym.

The next day you were leading a meeting of recruits who have the potential to be moved up into the squad that worked with the Avengers. The elite squad. Unfortunately for you, Arthur was in the group of recruits and was probably the next one to be promoted.  You finally dismissed everyone and started getting your stuff together to leave as well when Arthur came up to you.

‘What’s the word on who is moving up next, dove?’ You look up in shock, surely, he didn’t just call you dove.

‘Excuse me?’ You look him dead in the eye.

‘I said what’s the word on who is moving up next? I think you might need to get your hearing checked.’ He laughs at his own joke so you fake laugh with him.

‘That’s confidential., we’ll let everyone know when we have made the decision.’ You say and go to walk past him but he grabs your arm.

‘Does someone need a little convincing. If it’s you, then I can think of some ways.’ He whispers seductively in your ear. You pull your arm out of his grasp and frown at him.

‘I’m only joking, dove, come on, you can’t even take a joke?’ He laughs again.

You put on your best fake smile and your customer service voice. ‘There will be no convincing necessary. You are a good agent but you also have good competition. We will inform you all of our decision when it is made.’ You say and quickly turn and walk out the door before he can say anything else. When you get into the lift you ask FRIDAY where Steve is.

‘Common room A, Agent Y/L/N’. You make your way there as quick as possible. Heading around the corner, you slam into a solid object. You hiss at the contact on your fresh bruises, a frown appearing on your face. As soon as you look up to see what or who you bumped into, the frown quickly fades into a smile when you see its Bucky. He is already looking at you.

‘Sorry I should have been watching where I was going.’ He mumbles quickly.

‘No, it’s just as much my fault as yours. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry.’ You apologise to him. As much as you would love to stay and chat  with  Bucky, you need to get to Steve to explain what just happened with Arthur and hopefully you can get him kicked off the team.

Bucky had left his room to try and find someone to help him figure out a few things with FRIDAY but as soon as he bumped into you that completely left his mind. You were all that filled his mind ever since he met you. He stood in the hallway for a while before realising he should ask you to help. Maybe this would be a good excuse to make up for his poor first impression. He heads in the direction you went but stops short when he hears your voice.

‘I think he bruised me. The dick.’ You say and Steve frowns at you ‘Come on, Steve. I’m  allowed to be angry. He has been nothing but a jerk to me,’ you explain and shift to get more comfortable.

‘What did you say to him when he did this?’ Steve asks, holding your arm and examining the newly formed bruises in the shapes of fingers.

‘I put on my best fake smile and pretended like everything was ok,’  You joke and Steve laughs, ‘as much as I hate the guy, I don’t have the confidence to actually show it.’ You sigh and Steve pulls your sleeve back down and leans back into the sofa. ‘Is there any way we can kick him off the team?’ You exaggerate batting your eyelashes at him.

‘He isn’t even on the team yet and you already want to kick him off?’ Steve questions.

‘Yes! I really don’t like him. I know he is your friend but I trust him about as far as I can throw him’ You explain and Steve nods.

Bucky had heard enough. He can’t believe you could be so horrible. You had the sweetest exterior and, from first impressions, you didn’t look like you could hurt a fly. But as he heard you say, you clearly put on a fake act to come across as polite and kind when really you are rude deep down. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. Twice now. But he is so glad he did, because now he knows not to waste his energy on you. He knows what you think of him and he has formed his opinion of you. He hurries back to his room.

‘He’s not my friend Y/N, I only said that to you to make you go on the date with an open mind. I’ve only ever had one conversation with the guy,’ Steve jokes and you playfully push his arm, ‘All jokes aside, his behaviour breaks a lot of conduct rules and is a good enough reason to have him knocked down a few squads.’ Steve replies and you sigh with relief. You hug Steve and thank him for his help, he’s taken slightly off guard but hugs you back before you go your separate ways.

 A few weeks later, you walk into the kitchen to find the whole team eating their breakfast. Sam is cooking and when he sees you, he makes a plate and hands it to you.

‘Thank you Sam.’ You hug him and take the plate, turning around at the sound of Bucky’s scoff. You haven’t had a conversation with Bucky since you bumped into each other in the hallway. You had tried to but he either completely ignored you or just rolled his eyes and left the room.

At first it hurt, you wondered if you had done something wrong. The team seemed just as confused by it as you. Bucky didn’t have a problem with anyone else. That wasn’t to say he was extremely friendly with them, he wasn’t there yet and nobody blamed him but he could hold conversation with the others. He even laughed at their jokes. You were starting to get fed up with it so after breakfast you headed to Bucky’s room to talk to him. You knocked on the door and it wasn’t long until he answered it. As soon as he saw you his face fell visibly.

‘Can we talk?’ You asked hoping he would let you into his room. He paused to consider it then stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him. He stood there with his arms crossed and waited for you to talk.

‘Is there something I did wrong?’ You ask him and he keeps a blank face.

‘Why do you care?’ He asks still arms crossed over his body.

‘I care because you are always scoffing or rolling your eyes at me whenever I try to talk to you.’

‘I’m not scoffing or rolling my eyes now.’ He points out.

‘No but you’re not exactly being very friendly.’

‘Would you prefer for me to fake it then? Just put on a smile and pretend to like you?’ He jabs. You take a moment to process what he just said. You didn’t realise he could be so mean.

‘No Bucky I would prefer for you to maybe make an effort to get to know me before making a judgement.’ You scowl at him.

‘I have a perfectly fine judgement of you. I am not going to fall for your fake smiles and fake friendships.’ Bucky snarls and walks back into his room closing his door in your face. You are left to stand there in shock.

On the other side of the door Bucky is leaning there conflicted. The shock on your face looked so genuine. No, he has to remember it is all an act with you.

From that day on you decided you weren’t going to make an effort with him. It wasn’t the most mature decision but you were tired. What used to be eye rolls and scoffs, now turned into snarky comments and you were no longer afraid to throw them right back at him.

Steve had tried a few times to talk to you about it but, when he couldn’t tell you why Bucky hated you, he realised there was nothing he could do to change how either of you felt about the other. What he could do was change up your schedules so the two of you were rarely ever in the same room together.

Unfortunately, instead of the arguments happening quite calmly but consistently over the course of the whole day. They were now much shorter, confined to just mealtimes, and much more heated and intense. None of the team knew which was worse.

You were sparring in the gym with Natasha trying to work off some steam from this morning’s argument with Bucky.

‘Your moves are sloppy, get whatever is making you emotional out of your head.’ She grunts at you but this only forces you further into your head.

You go hard at her, but she blocks every move so you go to defence. She smirks at you, ‘Has a certain super soldier got into your head?’

That causes a surge of anger to hit you and again you go hard at Natasha, but your anger only allows her to catch you off balance and you are pinned to the mat in a matter of seconds.

‘So it is Barnes.’ She  pulls you up and you brush yourself off before getting back into a fighting stance.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ You grunt at her and start your attack. Your moves are still predictable and anger clouds your mind. You feel yourself getting more and more worked up with every hit she blocks.

You retreat to take a breather, you hear the door open and you glance over, the man of the hour has just entered and you roll your eyes but continue to spar with Natasha.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him make his way over to you both, watching as you take a lot of hits from her and barely manage to land any of your own.

‘I have seen toddlers fight better than you Y/N.’ You hear him chuckle.

‘I don’t need your opinion.’ You grunt, still trying to keep your focus on Natasha.

‘Fight like that on the field and you’ll be dead in two seconds.’

‘Keep talking and you’ll wish you were dead.’

He laughs ‘Is that a threat?’ You ignore him and continue sparring. ‘Your punches are so weak, how did you become an Avenger again?’ He is still smiling knowing exactly which buttons to push.

You stop and make your way over to him. ‘I became an Avenger because of my talent and my strength, that I worked hard to earn.’ You are right up in his face, almost chest to chest. You are breathing hard, partly from the exercise but mostly because of how riled up you are. You notice he is breathing hard as well, his breath fanning across your face.

Your mind can’t help but drift, is this what he would look like in bed, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. Small beads of sweat gathered at his hairline from his recent run. You suddenly realise how close the two of you are and force the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. You hate how seeing him so riled up is actually a huge turn on. How could you let yourself be attracted to such an asshole?

‘You wouldn’t stand a chance against me.’ His voice drops so low that in a different circumstance you would have happily dropped your panties.

‘You’re right. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you and your metal arm that you were given. Or you and the super soldier serum that you were given.’ You know they are cheap shots but you just couldn’t help how absolutely fuming he makes you. He had managed to get under your skin and the thought of him being successful only made you angrier.

He leans down even more, your noses almost touching ‘I don’t know how everyone else can’t see through your little nice act. You pretend to be so kind on the outside but deep down you’re a bitch.’ Ouch. You deserved that one for what you said to him but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Especially because if you were hooked up to a lie detector and asked to say those things again, it would flash up as a blatant lie. However, looking into his eyes there was not an ounce of regret for what he said.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t have said what he did, but you had hit a nerve and it was the only thing he could think to say back. He saw the hurt flash across your eyes but it was too late to take it back now. The only thing he could do was exit the situation before it got any worse. He turned on his heels and left the room, leaving you standing there in complete shock at your exchange. 

Natasha calls your name but you quickly leave for your room before anyone can see you like this.

The team was split all across the base. This wasn’t how you would usually handle missions but as soon as you arrived the mission started to go sideways.

‘Target headed towards the west elevator. Anyone nearby copy?’ You hear Steve’s voice through comms.

‘I'm on it.’ You say back, your comms crackling more than usual.

‘Copy that.’ Bucky said, his comms crackling from the two of you talking at the same time.

The rest of the team had heard both of your voices but neither of you had heard the other. So it was a big shock when you were waiting for the elevator and you heard his voice behind you.

‘You have got to be kidding me.’ He sighs and slowly walks up to you to wait for the elevator as well. ‘Did you not hear me say I got it?’ He snaps at you.

‘No because I was the one that said I’m on it.’ You snap back and thankfully the elevator dings it’s arrival. Normally in creepy Hydra bases you would avoid elevators but seeing as there was no stairwell nearby, this was the only option.

‘Age before beauty.’ You say to him, gesturing to the elevator.

‘Very funny’ he says sarcastically before stepping inside. You follow after him and press the only floor button available.

Silence permeates the small space as you prepare for what’s to happen once the doors open. Instead, the elevator jerks to a stop.

‘No.’ You panic and start pressing the floor button over and over. ‘No no no no no.’ Nothing is working.

‘Let me try.’ Bucky says pushing you out of the way, you so badly want to say something but the only thing you can focus on is the fact you might be trapped. Bucky taps the button and looks around for anything else to press but there is nothing. You can feel yourself start to get light headed as claustrophobia takes hold and the thought of falling to your death in this metal box takes over your thoughts. You shrink down onto the floor and hold your head in your hands.

‘Do you always have to be so dramatic?’ Bucky huffs. You don’t answer him, the only thing you can think about is the pain starting in your chest and your breathing getting heavier. 

‘Stop breathing so fast. You are going to make yourself pass out.’ Bucky grunts but when you don’t reply or make any effort to slow your breathing he gets worried. He kneels down in front of you ‘Hey? Doll? Can you hear me?’ You can’t answer him, you just feel the impending doom and the immense pressure on your chest. ‘I’m going to move your hands.’ He announces then you feel him take your hands and pull them away from your face. You look at him, tears in your eyes, a look of pure fear across your face. ‘Breathe with me, doll. Can you do that?’ He asks and you manage to nod. He speeds his breathing up to your pace then gradually slows it, you follow him as best as you can and eventually you get your breathing back to normal, with the occasional hiccup or sharp intake.

Once he sees you are ok, he lets go of your hands and sits on the floor as far away as he can. You both continue to sit in silence.

‘Thank you.’ You eventually manage to whisper, he nods without meeting your eye.

You can’t help but feel disappointed, you just got to see a caring side of Bucky and it felt amazing to be on the receiving end of it, but now you are back to him not giving a shit about you. You go back and forth wondering whether it is the right time to bring up the issues between you two. If not now, when?

‘Why do you hate me so much?’ He looks across at you and sighs before he answers.

‘I don’t hate you.’

‘Yes you do. It seems like you go out of your way to make me miserable.’ You push, making him lean his head back on the wall behind him.

‘I don’t hate you. I just don’t like how you formed opinions about me so early on. You wanted me off the team before I even got cleared to be on the team.’ Bucky explains. You stare at him in confusion.

‘How do you know what opinions I formed of you? I may have wanted you off the team but it was only because you were mean and that was after you were cleared.’ You could feel yourself starting to get angry.

‘Then how come I overheard you talking about the first time we met to Nat, you said I was blunt and rude. Then after I accidentally bumped into you, you told Steve you wanted me off the team.’ Bucky says agitatedly.

‘I never-‘ you think back to any conversations you had with Nat and Steve about Bucky. The only ones that came to mind were asking them if they knew why Bucky didn’t like you. Then it hits you, he had overheard you talking to Steve and Nat about Arthur. You sighed.

‘Let me guess, you overheard me and Nat talking not long after we first met. We were in Nat’s room getting ready to go train?’ You ask and he nods.

‘Then the conversation you overheard with Steve was straight after we bumped into each other. We were in the common room?’ Bucky looks confused but nods again.

‘You are such a prick. You eavesdrop but don’t even listen long enough to hear who we were talking about.’ You can’t help but chuckle at the situation, even though it’s not particularly funny.

‘What?’ Bucky looks more confused than ever.

‘Well, if you had listened properly to the whole conversation you would know I was talking about that asshat agent, Arthur.’ That came out more blunt than you intended.

‘The recruit that got bumped down a few squads even though he is really good?’

‘Yep. That’s the one’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Before you came Steve and Nat had been setting me up on blind dates with people. Arthur was the fifth one, I really didn’t want to go so Steve convinced me by saying they were friends and all this nice stuff about him.’ You pause to take a deep breath. ‘The day we met, I had just come from the date with him and it was awful. That's what me and Nat were talking about. Then when we bumped into each other in the hallway, I had just come from a meeting with the recruits. Arthur had been inappropriate and he hurt my arm, I was rushing to Steve to tell him and ask if he can be kicked off the team.’ You finally manage to say and Bucky just looks at you. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he is finally getting context to the snippets of conversation he overheard.

‘Shit. I am so sorry. I am such an idiot.’ He scolds himself and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

‘I am not going to disagree with you, but we have both said and done some pretty nasty stuff. I am sorry for any hurt I caused you.’  You say sincerely and he looks over to you and smiles.

‘So you didn’t think I was rude when we first met?’ He still holds your eye contact and you take a moment to look at him. You have never seen him look so vulnerable before, he almost looked scared.

‘No, Bucky, I thought you were probably nervous or tired from meeting loads of new people.’ You explain and his shoulders fall.

‘I feel like such a jerk.’ He sighs and you scoot yourself closer to him so he has to look at you.

‘I’m not all that innocent in this either. It was a misunderstanding. I am just glad we have cleared it up now.’ You say meaning it and he smiles earnestly back at you. It is something you have never experienced first-hand. You have seen him give those gorgeous, slightly lopsided, smiles to other people but seeing one directed at you causes a rush of heat to your cheeks and you find yourself blushing.

Bucky must have been thinking along the same lines ‘You’re cute when you blush. I have never seen this side of you before.’ He brushes some hair out of your face and behind your ear. ‘You know, part of the reason I was so nervous when I first met you was because I was taken off guard by how beautiful you are.’ His cheeks flush slightly at his confession.

Before you can say anything the elevator jerks again and starts moving, you and Bucky are quick on your feet, preparing yourself for the doors to open.

When they finally do you are met with a group of Hydra agents ready to attack. You and Bucky work in tandem, playing off each other’s strengths. When the Hydra agents realize this, they work to separate you. The majority of them are on Bucky but you are fighting four at once. You are onto the last one when he raises his gun to shoot but you force his arm down. Not quick enough, it fires and clips your calf causing you to cry out from the pain 

It is not as bad as actually being shot in the leg but it still hurts like hell and you can’t put pressure on it. The room is pretty silent apart from footsteps you recognise to be Bucky approaching. You move quickly and uppercut the guy in the nose. The crack echoes throughout the room as the guy falls to the floor at your feet.

You turn to Bucky, his mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock. ‘That was hot.’ He announces finally, making you laugh, you go to take a step towards him but realise too late that your injured leg won’t hold your weight. You would have fallen to the floor if Bucky hadn’t rushed to catch you.

‘Thanks.’ You chuckle, your faces are extremely close. Your eyes completely entranced in his. Your whole body warms at the safe feeling of being in his arms. You start to wonder what it would be like to fall asleep in these arms, to wake up the next morning still wrapped up in them. Protected.

You force yourself back to reality by clearing your throat. ‘We should probably get back to the team.’ You say and he nods. He puts his arm around your waist and you put yours over his shoulders to use him as a crutch.

The ride back up in the elevator goes smoothly this time and before you know it you are hobbling up to the quinjet where the rest of the team awaits. Natasha and Steve are both looking back and forth from you to Bucky in confusion.

‘What the hell happened?’ Steve asks not trying to hide how baffled he is that you and Bucky are holding onto each other and not arguing. Natasha simply smirks. Bucky helps you into a seat then sits opposite you with a wink as you smile at him.

‘No, this is too weird. Please argue, bicker, roll your eyes. Anything.’ Sam begs Bucky who doesn’t break his eye contact with you. Bucky simply laughs knowing his behaviour is unsettling Sam and enjoying the newfound comradery with you.

[draven-imani]

Journal 5 (part 1)

We’ve had an…extremely productive day. We found a note on Hosilla’s person that detailed three safehouses of the cult of Baphomet: Nyserian Manor, Topaz Solutions, and the Tower of Estrod. The note was signed SV—which I’m assuming is Stauton Vhagn. Looks like he came back and finished the job of destroying the Wardstone after Commander Tirabade stopped him the first time.

After talking to Aravashnial, Anevia, and Horgus, we pooled our information together. Nyserian Manor was owned by a noble who sometimes worked with Horgus, and had taken out a loan from him once to buy Commander Tirabade’s sword from her. Anevia hadn’t been aware Irabeth had sold her sword—apparently she’d told her wife she’d lost it. Anevia was going to be having words with the commander of the Eagle Watch upon seeing her again.

The Tower of Estrod was of interest to Aravashnial, as it was a place of arcane studies. He also requested that we look into the Blackwing Library, where the Riftwardens would be located.

Anevia wanted to look for Irabeth, and therefore would like to look into going home as that was the only lead she had on where her wife may be.

As we discussed, we exited the subterranean tunnels and entered the sewers. And came upon three orphan kids and a middle aged pinkish tiefling woman with many piercings and a bow. The orphans immediately ran to Luna, clearly familiar with her. Another point in her favor for ‘good person, not a murderer/serial killer/whatever else the rumor mill decides to say’.

“So you must be ‘Una’,” the tiefling said, imitating the orphans mispronunciation of her name. Or maybe legitimately mistaking her name for that. “Nice to meet you, incase you haven’t noticed, everything’s gone to hell.”

The tiefling introduced herself as Hiskaria. She had arrived in town from Numeria recently to join the Raven Corps, actually, although she was apparently a Kenabres native initially. She was on lone by one ‘Kevoth-Kul’, because she was a criminal on parole, and joining the Raven Corps was her penance.

Ouch.

Aaaaaand as the only member of the Raven Corps around that means it fell on me to keep her around until we could either find her handler or someone with more authority. That and strength in numbers. We couldn’t exactly leave her behind, even if she is a confessed murderer.

Oh, yeah, I didn’t mention that her crime was murder did I? Yeah, our new buddy’s a convicted murderer. One fake murderer and one real one, and if I had to put money on it, everyone’s going to get who’s who wrong.

After some discussion, we decided to head for Horgus’ manor first. It would provide a safe place to leave the orphans, so that we wouldn’t be dragging them around in the open where every demon still lurking around might decide to swoop down on them.

We made it there with only minor incident, some rat demon ripping up a clothing store who dubbed himself ‘the rat king’. He was of personal offense to Melody given that he was in the process of destroying things of beauty. That and the owners of the shop were still there and might be able to salvage some things.

Given my studies I was able to identify the demon as an Abrikandilu, a wrecker demon. A destroyer of beauty, not just of artwork like the dresses, but of physical beauty, using their fangs to cause horrible scarring on those they attack. I also knew that Radiance was the only weapon we had that would pierce its defenses, although it also had a unique weakness to mirrors, due to all demons of this kind having an abhorrence of their own visage. That being the case, I suggested that Luna and Melody slip into the store to get one of the mirrors from the changing rooms within while I distracted and fought it with Radiance and Hiskaria took pot shots at it from a safe distance.

Radiance and I were both more than happy to finally be putting a demon to the blade.

Spilling demons’ blood, at least, we both agree on.

Things went off about how we’d hoped. The Abrikandilu was a bit faster than I’d anticipated and it rushed me rather than me pinning it by the building as I’d planned, but I stopped its fangs with my shield and avoided any new scars. Melody and Luna came out with a mirror, which drew the demon’s attention. Luna’s axe stuck into it. Then Radiance slew it.

Radiance roared in my head each time it drew blood against a demonic foe, in what I can only describe as ecstasy. They, at least, get joy from battle. I wish I could say the same, but the demons die all the same. I feel good about it, that we slayed the demon and helped those people. It’s something good. Not joy, that’s too strong of a word. I feel—satisfied, maybe?

Regardless, the shop owners thanked us. They had little to offer and we tried to assure them that we didn’t need anything, but they insisted on at least providing us with a nice outfit each in thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever owned anything so fine. An orphan and a soldier don’t exactly make for elegant living.

Afterwards we made it to Horgus’ manor with no further incidents. His holdings were untouched. Melody mused at first that perhaps someone was trying to frame him. However after some thought, Hiskaria and I disagreed with that assessment. Demons by nature would seek out where the most people are, the places where they could wreak the most havoc. And as we approached it was clear that his manor was devoid of life. It would seem that his men and his servants had fled their posts when the attack happened, and as a lucky result the manor had been untouched. I’ll give Horgus some credit here. While he was clearly visibly upset that the men he’d hired to protect his holdings had left their posts, he tried very hard to be reasonable that it was for the best that they’d left and protected the servants, and that it had indirectly kept the demons from destroying his things. He was however very upset that they’d taken all of the mints from the little bowl at the front entrance—as was Miss Melody, who bemoaned that it was quite rude of them. Ah what I would give to have her priorities.

Luna was shepherding the orphans—one of whom, Hamm, had taken a shine to Hiskaria’s magic and gotten it into his head that he was going to…what was it? Summon demons in his snot bubbles? Charming kid. Glad his entire world falling apart around him didn’t completely destroy his sense of innocence and wonder. Suppose he was lucky he ran into Hiskaria so the three of them didn’t get killed or worse. That’s a point in her favor.

After gathering up food from the kitchen and some entertainment for the kids from a room formerly used for the staff’s children while they were on the job, Horgus went down to the safest part of the manor: the vault. He opened the safe, which proved to have been completed untouched. Inside was more wealth than I’d probably ever seen in one place before, or ever will again. He paid Luna that looked like a rather hefty sum. Then he also paid myself, Melody, and Hiskaria 1000 gold for returning him here safely, although payment had never been promised. Hiskaria tried to argue that she’d only just joined with us, but he said that it was payment due to someone who couldn’t be here to take their cut.

Horgus…is a complicated man, I am beginning to realize. I cannot pin him down yet. Even more than most people, his words and actions do not align. And even some of his actions I think are more masks on top of that. Luna insists he’s a good man but won’t give details beyond that. She’s had a few private conversations with him, so I’m inclined to believe she knows something that’s given her that impression. And I trust Luna’s judgement in people.

As Horgus locked himself away, we heard the beginnings of him teaching the kids something or another about some…math thing. I don’t know, look, I’m not the one to look to about Abadar tax bracket stuff. Luna was just glad he was hopefully keeping Hamm from thinking about snot demons.

From there we went next door, to Nyserian Manor. Or what was left of it. Which was not much. At all. Or anything, really. See, the demons hadn’t been very discerning in their building demolition. They’d destroyed their own safehouse. Idiots. Served anyone who was inside right for betraying humanity to the demons.

Next up was Blackwing Library.

Oh Blackwing Library. This one made me angry.

If you know me you know that’s bad. Of course, you don’t know me, because you’re just a bundle of inanimate papers sandwiched in leather that I’m writing in to keep my tenuous grip on sanity together. Suffice to say: that’s bad. I don’t get angry easily. Unless you’re a Deskari worshipper or waving his symbol in my face like I’m a bull, but I mean, that’s just asking for trouble from any Iomedaen, really.

As we approached the library, it was immediately apparent that the entire thing had been decimated. Aravashnial was despondent. All of his friends and colleagues with the Riftwardens would have been there, and he feared the worst. While Melody and surprisingly Hiskaria tried to comfort him, Luna tried to sneak closer to look into the library. I stuck close to her, although not so close as to blow her cover.

What she saw was a turncoat Iomedaen with five librarians bound and gagged, and a sixth librarian being forced to pile books around them, to serve as both a book burning and a funeral pyre.

We didn’t have long to think as he pulled out the flint and tinder. Luna downed a potion of invisibility and vanished. We had to put our faith in her. And as usual, she didn’t let us down, as a moment later blood splattered across the floor and she reappeared behind the armored man with her hood up and a declaration that she was “the Butcher of Balestreet, Bitch”.

The cavalier’s two tiefling thugs tried to flank Luna, but I helped fight off one and Hiskaria finished them with a potshot from outside the door that got him right between the eyes, while Melody swooped in to take a stab at the other.

Luna clearly outmatched the man she was facing, and he was smart enough to realize it. He dropped his weapons, and offered to surrender. He swore if we let him go, he’d never do such a thing again.

The others seemed ready to let their guards down.

I didn’t buy it.

I could feel it. This was an evil man. The kind who would just turn around and do something like this again the second he had an opportunity, if we let him live.

Luna lowered her weapon to go deal with the tiefling thug. I told her what I just wrote, that if we let him go he would just harm others. She said it wasn’t going to be her choice to make.

If anyone was making this choice, it was going to be me, and me alone.

Melody tried to reason that maybe we could get some information out of him. That we could take him alive, and question him. After all, that’s what she was best at.

And then what, I asked her. What do we do with him after that? There weren’t any jails. The city was in chaos. Where do we put him when we’re done questioning him so that he doesn’t hurt anyone else?

He swore again that he’d just go away and be good. I called bullshit.

Melody said maybe he’d know more about the safehouses, or the other plans. What we’d potentially be walking into.

Fine. For the safety of the rest of the group, I’d take him alive.

So I punched the cocky bastard in the face and left him to Melody.

Hiskaria and Luna went about helping the librarians while Melody did her thing. She manacled the man and tied him up for a nice friendly chat. I stuck around. I didn’t trust this man. Kaleb, I learned his name was. Much good it did.

Melody woke him up. First thing he did was tried to play ignorant. Tried to pretend like he’d been possessed, like he hadn’t been in control of his own faculties before.

Bullshit. More lies.

Melody saw through his lies this time just as much as I had. She told him to start over and try again.

Next he tried to weave a sob story about how he’d been coerced into doing what he’d done. How he was a crusader who’s unit had been taken captive, and he’d been forced into committing evil acts out of desperation.

Again, nothing but lies. All he knew how to do was lie, habitually, spew whatever falsehood he thought would get him in our good graces.

When Melody and I called him out on it again, he snapped. In a final act of rebellious desperation, he finally told the truth. He’s nothing but scum of the earth. He was a crusader, and his unit had been wiped out, that was the one honest thing that had left this mouth. Afterwards he’d decided to hedge his bets and side with the demons, so he started committing every atrocity he could to try to win their favor. And he swore that when he died and went to the pits of the Abyss to be reborn he’d come back.

And flay us alive.

Bad choice of words.

I think the bull metaphor before was apt, because I certainly saw red for a moment. I don’t think anyone was in disagreement when I stabbed Radiance through his blackened heart at this point though.

We didn’t learn anything though. Except that he wasn’t a cultist. Just a psychopath who found an excuse to start killing people.

As we discussed our next course of action, the librarian we’d rescued approached us. He knew that Aravashnial was with the Riftwardens, and he knew what had happened to them. The Riftwardens after locking what they could in their vault had teleported to a different location, meaning Aravashnial’s friends were safely somewhere else. Unfortunately, a day later someone else arrived. Xanthir Vang. Another of Deskari’s generals. A worm that walks, a terrible creature that is both a swarm and one being bound to Deskari’s will. Xanthir cut through the floor, right above where the vault would be in the secret Riftwarden floors below, and lifted the entire vault from the floor. Then he ripped it apart like it was nothing. He seemed disappointed that the Riftwardens weren’t there—predictably, I suppose, since he had a personal grudge against them.

We found a single dead and dried up worm husk in a corner of the room. I don’t like this. It’s probably my imagination that my arm itches. Probably. Another of Deskari’s generals so close. That’s…terrifying.

With this information tucked away, we decided to head for Anevia’s home to look for clues of where Commander Tirabade may be. Mostly to make sure her wife was safe, and to inform her of everything we’d found out thus far, and a little tiny bit to ask her about that sword she’d apparently sold behind her back.

On the way, we were accosted by a skeletal demon from atop a building, who also called himself the rat king. He claimed the one we’d defeated before was a usurper, and then summoned a swarm of dire rats to attack us. We dealt with the dire rats handily enough. They took a few chomps at me, annoying little things. Between rats and lizards, do I just taste good or something?

Nope, just licked my hand to test it, I’m quite certain I do not taste good.

We arrived to a small unassuming house. Irabeth’s funds clearly went to things other than worldly possessions. Not that it was a bad house. I’m not trying to be judgmental of Irabeth Tirabade I’m just saying with her position most people would have much larger quarters, so she clearly puts hers to good use elsewhere. I’m not one to judge small living quarters, I live in the barracks. Which probably are in ruins now. Ah, well. Not like I had anything of sentimental value in there anyways. My fiddle, my sword, and my shield were on my person, those were the only things I might have cried over losing. And then my sword got forcefully replaced by a talkative holy blade anyways.

I wish I could say Radiance is growing on me like Horgus. Unfortunately, we got off an extremely wrong foot and they haven’t exactly tried to mend any bridges. Luna says I should be more assertive with them, since I’m the only one who can wield them, they need me to do their holy mission they want. And Radiance even agreed with her, because of course they did.

Figures. A guy tries to be nice to the holy sword who he’ll have to be working with for the foreseeable future and apparently even trying to just not make waves with the being you’ll have to work with talking in your head is the wrong move.

Fine…assertive. What do they want me to do, put Radiance in time out in their little box when they get uppity? That is a funny image though.

I’ve completely lost my train of thought.

Right, reread a few paragraphs, Anevia’s house. So, Luna and Melody took a peek inside to make sure nothing was lurking around inside.

Predictably, something was lurking around inside.

He was invisible, but when Melody began using detect evil he ‘pinged’, so she had an idea of where the invisible presence was. The invisible presence summoned a fire beetle outside to attack Anevia, but Hiskaria turned and shot it dead before it got a chance.

Melody and Luna had a good idea where the invisible foe was, and began to force him back into a corner, although their swings of axe and glaive kept hitting nothing but air.

I came in, and I swear to you Iomedae guided Radiance’s blade. Not only did I strike true, from the amount of red that splattered across the ground, I’m certain I hit something vital. That, and I made him very angry. The next thing I saw was an enraged orc, whose invisibility faded away as a blast of fire was released from his hand point blank in my face. Too familiar. Far too familiar. And then darkness.

And then I was awake again, Melody tipping one of my potions into my mouth. Luna had bloodied the orc, but he’d refused to go down in his blind frenzy. Then Hiskaria had stepped in and finished the job.

I proceeded to heal myself a little more thoroughly while the ladies talked to Anevia about what just happened.

Huh, now that Aravashnial and Horgus are gone I am the only guy in the little group of ours, aren’t I?

The prettiest guy in our group by default as well, not that that’s saying much.

Anevia recognized the orc, he was someone who Irabeth had stopped from some previous scheme years back, who she’d left out in the world alive. Apparently, he came back for revenge. He won’t be getting a third chance.

With that settled and no more assassins lurking about, Anevia went to her and Irabeth’s bedroom and opened a secret compartment. Inside she read a note and took out some supplies. She told us that Commander Tirabade and the other remaining Crusaders were hiding out at the Defender’s Heart tavern, and the passcode to get in was “Silverstrong”.

We decided to go straight there, as it was closer than any of the safehouses, and allies were still more useful than victories at the moment.

I was especially feeling that way when that damn skeleton ‘rat king’ showed up again, and threw a flock of vultures at us. Most of which decided to descend upon me. I know vultures are a bad omen but come on, that’s too on the nose even for me. What’s worse? Do you know what’s worse? What’s even worse than vultures? Fiend vultures. These things could smite. I had, no joke, five buzzards smiting me like a bunch of feathery antipaladins.

Just my cursed luck again. Why does Desna hate me?

So, yeah. I was hurting. And really wanting some rest. While everyone else was ready and raring to go for two more safehouses after we finished meeting with the Commander. I finished healing myself again and I was almost tapped out of spells, and completely out of potions. My fervor was wearing thin as well. Luna was all well and good, she didn’t use spells. Hiskaria was fine, she mostly only used her cantrips to empower her bow to fire twice—a neat trick that didn’t really cost her anything. Melody had used one judgement and some spells but she was just fine and equally ready to go.

Ever the weak link.

Eh, no point thinking like that, right? Plenty more happened after that. We arrived to Defender’s Heart and gave them the passcode. They came out to meet us, initially excited to see Anevia.

Then they saw Luna, still with her hood up in her Butcher guise from our fight earlier.

Oops.

We tried to explain that this wasn’t what it looked like. That she wasn’t actually a murderer. That the rumors and stories and reports were wrong. Anevia tried to back us up. Luna took off her hood, and pointed out that she drank one of the two of them under the table at this very tavern just a few days prior, and no one got hurt. Despite our best efforts, tensions were raising. The guards were going for their weapons, and we were surrounded. The paladins were throwing accusations, and no one was listening to our words, they were only hearing what they believed to be true.

Then a strong hand came down on both of the guards’ shoulders. A voice spoke, and told them that maybe sometime they should try actually using the gift Iomedae grants them to detect evil.

Irabeth Tirabade stood behind the two guards, in the flesh, as…everything as I ever would have imagined. Tall, proud, honorable, noble.

The guards scrambled to cast the detect spells, and predictably found that Luna was not evil. They were puzzled but relaxed somewhat. Then jumped and went for their weapons again when they looked in Hiskaria’s direction.

The Commander told them that it was alright, and held up some papers, saying all the paperwork was in order for Hiskaria.

It looked like she was officially Raven Corps now.

Commander Tirabade picked up Anevia and carried her inside, and asked the four of us to follow. She got to quarters where she could lay Anevia down, then turned to me.

And the conversation went something like this.

“Acting Captain of the Raven Corps,” she said.

I was flabbergasted for a moment then realized she had to be talking to me because there was literally no one else she could be talking to. “Me?”

[mcwriting]

Just a Touch

Tom Holland soulmate AU where soulmates can heal each other through touch

I’ve been sitting on this story for literal months. Like it’s been finished and I just... haven’t posted it. Oops lol :) Enjoy

Word Count: 5072

Warnings: mentions of injury; implied s*x

Rating: T but with some slightly mature themes

*Not my AU idea!!* I don’t remember where I saw it first but I didn’t make up this concept, just changed it a bit!

+

You were surrounded by people, all waiting to see the one and only Tom Holland. 

It was an exciting thought, except for the fact that your whole body was aching from having stood in place for hours. Your back was sore, legs tired, and a headache had been brought on by all the yelling.

Unfortunately for you, you had yet to meet your soulmate.

See, touching your soulmate could heal pretty much anything, but not everyone had the privilege of knowing theirs. Some did, of course. Most fell in love and married while others were platonic friends who usually lived in close proximity.

You weren’t alone in this predicament. Only a few of your friends knew their soulmates. One pair of friends had grown up together and always known, another pair lived long distance but had a thriving relationship.

It’s not like you really cared. You were still young and had never really needed their help healing you. Sure you’d been hurt, but the occasional bump and bruise (and that one broken arm) weren’t the end of the world.

You snapped out of your thoughts as the cheers got loud again, signaling that Tom was finally drawing near. You and your friends looked around, trying to peek over shoulders and catch a glimpse of him.

What you didn’t realize is that he was within the crowd somewhere behind you, coming forward. A few moments later, you finally saw him heading straight towards you.

He was trying to give high fives and greetings as he passed through the thick crowd. When he approached, people seemed to surge around you, and you were bumped around, falling over.

A hand reached out to steady you, and a voice asked,

“You alright, darling?”

Adrenaline spiked as you realized that the hand and voice belonged to Tom himself. A quick smile and nod and he was on his way again.

What you didn’t realize until later was the way your aches had disappeared and the surge of energy had rushed over you.

+

Tom was having a weird day to say the least.

He’d woken up late, body sore and tired. His sinuses were stuffed and head hurt. Yesterday had been a long day of press and workouts, and of course his allergies had to flare right before another taxing day.

But the show must go on, right?

Upon arriving to yet another location that day, Tom found a massive crowd waiting for him, so he did something any spontaneous twenty-something man would do. 

Walk right through the middle of it.

To be honest, Tom had been pulling more stunts like this lately in the hopes that he would find his own soulmate. Sure he was a worldwide celebrity, but that didn’t make the search any easier.

Yes, he could live without one, but as accident and broken-nose prone he was, he’d feel safer knowing they were out there and could help him when he really needed it.

So, he moved through the crowd giving as many high fives as possible. 

At one point he came across a girl who lost her step, helping steady her and making sure she was okay before continuing on to the building.

It was only when he was inside that Tom realized he could breathe a little bit easier and the stiff and sore feeling had subsided.

He paused when the door shut, confused at why he suddenly felt so... good.

And then it hit him.

“Come on, man, we need to get upstairs,” Harry said, ignoring the surprised expression on his brother’s face.

“I think I found her. Or.. him. I don’t really know.”

“What are you on about? We need to go.”

“No, Harry. I found someone. My soulmate is out there in that crowd.”

Harry was dumbfounded. He was still soulmate-less, and found it stupid for Tom to run through crowds and touch everyone just to find them, but now look who had the last laugh.

“How do you know? You aren’t hurt are you? Or did you just forget to tell me?”

“Well, I was really sore this morning, and now I’m not. And my allergy symptoms are gone. I don’t know how to describe it, but I’m healed and it was definitely not by natural causes.”

“Well we don’t have time for you to run back through and try to single someone out of everyone out there. I’m sure you’ll find each other again soon. Now Let’s. Go.”

And with that, Tom resigned his fight and continued on with his plans, but his focus was elsewhere.

+

You’d decided to keep it a secret that you had found your soulmate because, frankly, you weren’t quite sure who it was.

Your longing heart hoped it was Tom, but you’d touched so many people in the few seconds before, during, and after interacting with him. It was foolish to think it was him, and there was no way to tell your friends because they’d just call you crazy.

The only way to find out was staring back at you in the form of a lot of money.

Tom had an upcoming meet and greet, the perfect way to get one on one with him. Unfortunately tickets were expensive, but maybe, just maybe, it would be worth the price. 

So you clicked confirm, and the one month countdown commenced.

+ 

Tom was tired of not knowing who his soulmate was. 

It was one thing not even knowing if they were out there, but it was another to have experienced healing without having met them. In a sense, it felt like sharing intimacy with a stranger.

He continued to walk through crowds when possible, but still nothing. He even asked Harry to punch him in the arm sometimes just so he’d have something painful to compare with.

Now, a month after kind of meeting them, he was standing in front of a backdrop taking pictures with fans. And maybe “the one” would be here today. Because of this, Tom let Harry give him another punch for what was hopefully the last time.

On another side of the event space, you stood in the long line surrounded by strangers, butterflies stirring in your stomach. Or was it nausea? Maybe both.

You wore a pair of cute jean shorts and a crop top to show the scrape on your leg from clumsily sliding across some carpet and the bruise on your side from running into the kitchen counter.

Almost an hour had passed since you’d gotten in line and now there were only 4 people in front of you. You realized that you’d only have about a minute to say something and had to be quick.

Finally your time came and you were led into what was essentially a pop-up room with Tom on one side and a camera crew plus his team on the other. 

“Hi there. It’s so nice to meet you!” he said, arms extending for a hug.

“Wait,” you said stopping him, the camera crew clearly annoyed that you might take up time. “I need you to look at my leg while you touch my hand.”

“Um, okay?” Tom replied as you showed the scrape on your knee, “  that’s quite the scratch.”

You laughed nervously and grabbed his hand. Suddenly any pain around your leg or side started to go away, and the redness surrounding your knee began to fade as if it was healing in triple time.

It was him, and you were both shocked.

Tom’s arm no longer hurt once he grabbed your hand. He couldn’t believe he’d found you.

Both of you looked into each other’s eyes, entranced as you smiled at each other, hands still held together. Then there was a click and a flash and you snapped out of it, looking to the camera.

“Okay sweetheart come over here and get your number...” a crew member said, trying to lead you out.

“Wait, wait. Just please wait one second,” Tom exclaimed to the crew, and then turning to you he said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “don’t go anywhere.”

You nodded and nervously looked at all the event staff who clearly wanted nothing more than to finish up and move on. 

Tom pulled Harry aside and before he could say anything, Harry cut him off.

“She’s the one isn’t she?” he asked.

“Yeah. Definitely. I don’t know if you saw it bu-”

They talked a few minutes and you were asked to follow Harry to the green room as Tom resumed his place to finish up pictures with the remaining fans.

Harry opened the door and gestured around. There were a few chairs, a coffee table, a little sink, and a counter on the side of the room covered in snacks, drinks, and personal bags.

“Feel free to take a seat. Tom’ll be a bit longer. Would you like a water?”

“That’d be great, thanks,” you replied as you sat cautiously at one end of the couch. Harry came around and handed you a bottle, seating himself in a chair on your left.

You conversed for a while until finally Tom burst through the door frantically. When his eyes met yours, he let out a loud sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad you’re still here. Harry, d’you mind?”

With that, Harry got up, telling you a quick goodbye as he slipped out of the room, leaving only you and Tom. You stood up quickly and stuck out a hand.

“We never met properly. I’m y/n.”

Tom took your hand in his for the second time that day, and since nothing was wrong with you now, you felt a tingling sensation where your hand met his.

“I’m sure you know, but I’m Tom.” 

You let out a chuckle and nodded happily. After a few seconds of staring at each other silently, Tom spoke up again.

“So you’re my soulmate, eh? The more I look at you, I wonder, did you accidentally fall in that crowd a few weeks back?”

You were shocked he remembered.

“Yeah, actually. I thought I was crazy to believe you were the one just from that.”

You should’ve heard what Harry said about me,” he muttered.

With that, you spent the day getting to know each other and swapped numbers, deciding to keep things under wraps for now.

+

You and Tom had spoken many times in the two months since first meeting, texting throughout the day and facetiming often. It was like an instant friendship had formed, filling a hole in your heart that you didn’t know was there.

Now you were in your last lecture of the day at your university when your phone rang. It was Tom.

Usually you wouldn’t answer calls in the middle of class, but Tom never called unless you both knew you were free. So, you quickly packed up your things and ran out, making a mental note to email your professor about it later.

“Hello?” you picked up, nervous.

“Y/n, it’s Harry. Tom got into a, uh, little accident on set. We were wondering if you could come out and heal him. He’ll pay for everything.”

You thought about it for a minute. It was a Friday, which meant that wherever he was, you should be able to be back for classes again on Monday.

“Where are you guys filming?” you asked.

“Montreal. I found that the next direct flight from LA is this evening if you can make it. I’ll book you the ticket if you’ll just send over the necessary information.”

“Okay, yeah, sure,” you said, frantically racing across campus to your car, “how long am I gonna be there and how’s the weather. What should I pack?”

“It’s definitely chilly so pack layers. Until Sunday, but it’s an overnight flight. Make sure you wear something nice on the plane. We’ll have someone pick you up when your flight lands”

Everything was happening so fast, but you had to do this. He was your soulmate after all.

+

You raced through LAX, dragging a small carryon behind you after finally getting your ticket and passing through security. You hadn’t really looked at the details and just hoped to get to the gate on time.

You arrived a few minutes before boarding and realized you hadn’t told anyone but your roommate what you were doing, and even then you lied and said you were just visiting a "sick friend.”

Looking at the ticket, you saw that you were in boarding group 1, which was a crazy thought. Usually you were in like 5 or 6.

Seat 4A. Wow that’s close to the front.

It wasn’t until stepping on the plane that you realized 4A was in first class. You’d never ridden first class, and it was shocking that Tom would pay for you to fly in such luxury.

It was also good that you’d taken Harry’s advice and worn some slacks, a blouse, and a blazer, as most of the passengers around you were dressed in business suits and dresses.

You settled in for the 5 and a half hour flight, wondering what Montreal would hold when you landed at about 4:30 the next morning, Tom’s time.

+

Exiting the international airport after getting through customs, you searched for a sign with your name on it. It had been hard explaining where you were going or staying to the customs agent when you didn’t know yourself. You’d lied and said you were staying with a friend just outside the city as if you really knew.

You finally spotted a man in a nice suit and hat with a sign reading “Ms. y/n y/l/n” and headed towards him. He shook your hand and led you to sleek black Mercedes, opening the door for you and putting your bag in the back.

“Mr. Holland’s home, oui?” He asked in his own French-Canadian accent.

“Oui, or, yes. Yeah. Thank you.”

It was still dark out, but the sky began brightening as you traveled. It took about 45 minutes for you to finally pull onto a little driveway that wound towards a house. You’d been communicating with Harry and now saw him standing under porch lights.

“Okay, what’s wrong? How is he?” you immediately asked when stepping out as the driver went to retrieve your bag.

“He’s doing okay, but he’s in a lot of pain. I’ll let him do the explaining,” Harry answered as he took the bag from the driver, thanked him, and handed him a stack of cash. He showed you into and through the house.

Harry opened a door that led to a dark bedroom where Tom was laying on top of the bed.

He looked awful. His face was beat up with a black eye and swollen nose, he had a splint on one leg that rested on a pillow, and one wrist was covered in ace wrap.

“Heyyy, darling. You alright?” he croaked, trying to give you a cheeky grin.

“Oh my God, Tom! What did you do?” you exclaimed, rushing beside his bed. Harry exited the room, saying he’d put your things in another room.

Tom explained how he’d had an accident while doing a dirt biking stunt that involved mud and crashing into a tree and then tumbling down a hill.

“Thank you for coming, by the way. You didn’t have to.”

“Tom you look like you’re on your deathbed, how could I not? And I mean what is this like the fifth time you’ve broken your nose?”

“I told you I’m clumsy,” he tried to joke as you shook your head in feigned amusement.

Now was the hard part, figuring out how to heal him effectively. It was well known that healing happened faster the more a pair was touching, but you and Tom hadn’t known each other long. Where was the line of too much vs. not enough?

“Okay, how fast do you want to get better? And by that I mean, how comfortable are you with contact?” you questioned.

“I’m fine with whatever you feel comfortable doing. I’d be happy even if you only laid one finger on me.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes, eventually deciding to sit on the bed next to him. You started by putting a hand over his hurt arm, and immediately you began to feel tired. Healing someone with bigger injuries was... draining.

A few minutes later and you couldn’t sit up anymore and instead laid down, now pressing your body to his. You watched as the blue and purple spots on his face faded to normal as you felt yourself tire even faster than before. 

Soon enough, he was moving to unwrap his wrist and leg, rolling both of them in circles to test the waters, wincing at his ankle still. Suddenly, you rolled away.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. 

“I... I need to rest for a bit. Give me a few hours and I’ll finish fixing up that ankle,” you managed to say before passing out.

+

Light filled the room as you opened your eyes from deep slumber. You were confused at where you were, then remembered the circumstances. But this wasn’t Tom’s room. Your bag sat by the door and phone rested on a bedside table. Your stomach growled.

You slowly got up and headed to the bathroom, fixing your hair and changing into something more comfortable than business clothes.

You navigated down the hall towards male voices, finding Harry, Harrison, and Tom all sitting around a dining table laughing. They suddenly went quiet when you came in. 

“Y/n! You’re awake!” Tom said, moving to stand, but instead winced and settled back.

“Hah, yeah. What’s that smell? Are you cooking up lunch?”

The boys looked at each other, then back at you.

“Y/n... it’s 6 in the evening...” Harry started, “you’ve been asleep about 12 hours.”

You were shocked, but checked the time on the wall. Sure enough, it was just past 6. Your stomach growled again.

“Well... that’s interesting, but seriously, do I smell food or not? I could eat a whale.” you joked.

+

After a large spaghetti dinner, you all moved to the living room. Tom had asked you to wait to finish healing him until later that night so you could both sleep at a normal time. 

The boys explained how after you’d passed out, Harry and Harrison had carried you to your room to rest. You spent the night laughing with the boys and getting to know Tom’s friend and brother better, too. 

When nighttime rolled around, Tom used some crutches to get to his room and you followed close behind. 

Once he settled in, you again took post beside him, this time resigning to laying down from the get-go. You pressed up against each other like before, but this time he wrapped an arm over your side.

It didn’t take long for you to feel sleepy, but you could feel Tom moving his ankle and sighing in relief. He let out a soft hum.

“Thank you, darling,” he whispered, but you were already slipping into slumber.

+

The next morning you had woken up in Tom’s arms, which was shocking to say the least (but in a good way). He was able to walk again and looked completely healthy, which was great.

You spend the rest of Sunday hanging out before packing to go back home. 

“Hey, y/n,” Tom said softly, standing in the doorway of your room, “Thanks again for coming out. I wanted to ask, I mean, I know you’re in uni now, but when you go on summer break, would you maybe want to come stay with me for the summer? I’m filming for Spider-Man and well... you know me.”

“Tom, are you asking me to come spend a summer with you filming a Marvel movie?”

“Well, if you’re alright with it. We begin shooting in Atlanta.”

“Uh, absolutely! How could anyone pass that up? The only thing I’m concerned about is how we’re gonna keep this a secret.”

“What if we didn’t?”

You stood up from where you had just placed some clothes back in your bag.

“What?”

“I mean, what if we announced that we’re soulmates? Obviously it’s up to you, but I just saw an article with leaked information that I was seriously hurt and the internet will be appalled when they see pictures of me completely healed.”

You took a heavy breath out, thinking. 

“Okay. But I want to wait until people start talking about it. I feel like we need to keep it quiet until we really need to,” you explained, zipping up your carryon.

“Deal.”

+

After finals, you were able to go home for two weeks to see your friends and family before heading east to Atlanta.

After going public as Tom’s soulmate, you’d definitely gotten some attention at school and online, but thankfully no one really bothered you in person about it.

Tom was waiting at the airport when you arrived with two large bags and a backpack for your three month stay. Tom was letting you stay in a spare room at his rental house for the summer, so you’d brought pretty much your entire summer wardrobe.

As the first month came and went, you’d gotten to know the cast and crew as you were now labeled as another “assistant” for Tom and spent your days around set. 

He hadn’t really hurt himself aside from some pulled muscles, and had actually needed to heal you once when you tripped by the pool and slammed your knee into the concrete.

Almost every night before going to bed, you gave each other a long hug to take away any of the day’s soreness.

It was during the second month that Tom really got hurt. 

He was in the Spider-man stunt rig swinging around when a clip that had been incorrectly attached came undone. Of course he had other wires, but the one that came off caused him to slam with full force from a decent height into a wall, where he stuck his arms and legs out to brace himself.

He’d definitely broken a bone or two and heavily sprained his ankle . He also had hit the side of his head upon impact and suffered a concussion. 

Once they lowered him down, you rushed over and put a hand on him, and he immediately stopped groaning in pain. You however, were quickly drained of energy and needed to stop. 

As you were helped to his trailer to rest, they got to work removing the wires and suit, now that he was in slightly less pain. It took almost an hour, which gave you enough time to at least build up some energy and eat something.

They closed filming for the day to investigate the incident and sent Tom and you home. No one would let you touch him until you were home so they wouldn’t possibly have to carry both of you into the house.

You watched nervously as Tom and Harry carefully carried him to his room and the second he was in bed, you crawled in next to him. It didn’t take long for him to start showing signs of improvement as your strength deteriorated.

After almost a half hour, you finally let yourself fall into a deep slumber. 

+

After that day, it was like a switch had flipped in you. You were scared of leaving Tom alone now and he wasn’t particularly fond of separation either, even though he was mostly fine by the next day. 

Because of that, you had made the decision to fully move in together, meaning you were now sharing a bed every night. You now always fell asleep in each other’s arms, but there was nothing sexual about it.

To be honest, though, you didn’t really understand where your relationship stood.

Yes, you had had a crush on him before all of this and yes you held a deep love for him, but what kind? He was your soulmate, and things were great, but did you want things to become more? Everyone said the most healing act was sex, but was he even thinking about that?

You got somewhat of an answer just a week later when Tom invited the cast to get drunk together now that filming had been pushed back due to the investigation.

After many hard seltzers and beers and margaritas and all kinds of other drinks had been smashed, some members left in ubers while others crashed on the couch and your former room.

You and Tom, however, headed back to his room. You weren’t really drunk, you had wanted to keep an eye out on Tom, so there was a slight buzz in your head and you felt a little warm, but nothing else.

You tried to help him get ready for bed when he blurted out a few words,

“You know I really want to kiss you right now. Have wanted to for a while.”

Your cheeks burned and butterflies danced in your stomach. You chuckled.

“Hmm. Say that when you’re sober.”

“Can I at least give you a little kiss? Just on the forehead?” he mumbled as he crawled into the bed.

You tugged on some sweats, then got in next to him.

“Yeah alright, since you asked nicely,” you said, curling up next to him.

You felt his lips press softly on your temple, then his chin rest above your head.

“Goodnight, y/n. Love you,” he whispered.

You smiled and squinched your face. The alcohol buzz was fading fast from his touch.

“Goodnight, Tom.”

+

It seemed like Tom had forgotten everything that happened that night as he never brought it up again, and even though drunk words are sober thoughts, you didn’t want to bring it up in case he’d changed his mind.

A couple weeks passed and every night you still fell asleep holding each other, and things finally got back into a rhythm as filming was resumed, but you couldn’t help but continue to think about what he’d said drunk.

Then one night you got into an argument.

It had started off as a little disagreement with a few jabs and ended with shouting. You stormed into the bedroom and then the bathroom, slamming the door behind you to cool off. 

You splashed some water on your face and looked in the mirror, trying not to cry. Things had been going so well. What happened?

A few minutes later and there was a soft knock on the door. 

“Y/n? Could you please come out? I want to talk to you.”

You rolled your eyes but obliged, walking to sit on the bed’s edge.

“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things and yelled at you and I didn’t mean any of it,” he apologized.

“I’m sorry too, Tom. I’m just frustrated about something else and I let it control my emotions. Either way, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What’s bothering you?” He asked, taking a tentative seat next to you.

You, you thought

“It’s nothing. You wouldn’t get it.”

“I’m sure I would. You can tell me.”

“No, Tom. I can’t.”

“Y/n come on.”

“Fine, okay. I’m pretty sure I love you or something,” your voice began to raise, “and you asked to kiss me when we had that party and then never brought it up and I didn’t know what to say because I hadn’t wanted to take advantage of you drunk but then we just continued like nothing happened and I’ve wanted to kiss you and hold you for so long and I just-”

And that’s when he cut you off with a kiss. You pulled back in amazement.

“Tom I-”

“Look, y/n. I didn’t bring it up again because I was afraid you weren’t interested and I had overstepped. Yeah I was drunk but I still remember something as big as that. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

That’s when you passionately went in for a kiss, eventually shifting so that you straddled him. You got to say your own line upon breaking off.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?” 

It wasn’t much longer that clothing was shed and Tom was digging in his bedside table for condoms (he “always has them just in case”) and you were breathing heavy and covered in a thin layer of sweat.

You’d thought since the time you and Tom met that your heart was full, but you hadn’t felt complete until this moment, staring at your soulmate after entangling yourselves like never before.

You hadn’t even realized that your heart was hurting until it was healed by a simple action.

Your heart pounded as you thought about what had just happened, staring at the ceiling. Neither of you had talked since exclaiming each other’s names in ecstasy. 

“Holy shit,” Tom whispered, looking over at you once he cooled down. You let out a laugh, not sure what to say back.

“I swear, y/n, that was the best feeling I’ve ever had. Ever. Why did we not think of this sooner?”

You rolled onto your side and looked at him with a soft smile.

“I can say I’ve never felt anything like I do in this moment. I’ve never felt so whole. Never felt so in love. And you don’t have to say it back but it’s how I feel and-”

“I’m in love with you, too. You know it cracks me up when you overthink things. I’ve been in love with you ever since the moment I watched all my friends become infatuated with you. You’re magnetic, and I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“You really mean that?”

“I do. I love you. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me,” he explained.

“Hey, now, just because you love me doesn’t mean you have to lie. Spider-Man has to rank above me.”

“Well Spider-Man led me to you.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Touché.”

You sat in silence a bit longer, watching each other carefully. 

“Do you think we should go back in there? You know, so the boys don’t think we hate each other or anything?” you ask, jutting your thumb towards the door behind you.

“Mmm. I guess we could do that... after we take a shower...” he trailed, raising his brows. You let out another laugh.

“I like the way you think, soulmate.”

+

A/N: ooooh my spiciest story yet. That’s about as explicit as I’ll ever get but it fit the vibe of the story. Again, I don’t remember who I got the general idea from, but the touch soulmate AU is not completely mine. I did modify it a little bit, tho.

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Permanent tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe 

[mustangshelby04]

No

Pairings: Chris Evans / Charlotte Mackenzie (O/C)

Summary: Saying no leads Charlotte to a friendship she has never imagined.

A/N: I’m trying to force myself to write. Maybe this will light a fire under my ass.... Or my muse’s. She’s a bit flakey.

Chapter 1

Charlie stood in line with her boyfriend Sam as they waited for their photo-op with Chris Evans.  They were second to last in line for the last day of the Comic Con they were at.  From the excited giggles of the people in front of them, Chris was posing and having some fun.  

Sam was clearly excited.  He was Marvel obsessed and had spent more money than any sane person should to get photo-ops with every Marvel cast member.  Charlie was just along for the ride.  It had been a point of contention with Sam that she refused to dress up with him this weekend.  She wasn’t a big movie or TV lover outside of old school Disney stuff and she didn’t get into all the hype of celebrity gossip.  She was a book lover and you could usually find her curled up with a book in some corner. 

She looked over at Sam, dressed as the Winter Solider and bouncing on the balls of his feet.  They had been dating a little over six months and this was the first time she had joined him at one of these things.  She wasn’t a fan of crowds and it had been absolute hell for her.  The whole weekend she had been regretting saying yes.  

“Ok, you guys are next.” The attendant said, leading them into the makeshift photo studio.  She was grinning from ear to ear like a creepy Cheshire cat.

Sam rushed in first and started gushing at Chris about how excited he was and how much he loved him as Captain America.  Charlie patiently waited for him to finish and then shook Chris’ hand when he extended it to her. “It’s nice to meet you.” She said politely.

“I really like your shirt.” Chris said.

She looked down at her blue Little Mermaid T-shirt she was wearing with skinny jeans and black Converse sneakers. “Thanks.  It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine too!”

“So, what are we doing today?” The photographer asked.

“How about this?” Sam asked.  Charlie and Chris both turned to look and Sam was down on one knee with a ring held up at Charlie.

“What the actual fuck?” Charlie gasped.

“Charlotte Grace Mackenzie, will you please marry me?”

“Are you crazy?  No!”

“Charlie….”

“Get up!”

“I love you.”

“Oh my god!” Charlie turned and stormed out of the photobooth, leaving Chris and Sam to stare after her.

Charlie sat in the hallway of her hotel next to the door of her hotel room a little while later staring straight ahead at the horrible wallpaper in front of her.  She couldn’t believe what had just happened.  Sam had rushed after her and the two of them had fought about what he had done.  He had then left her standing there.  When she had finally calmed down, she had gone after him only to find that he had actually taken the car and left her there.

Luckily, they were only three miles from their hotel and she had no problem walking that.  She had busted out her cell phone and turned on her GPS to make her way back.  When she had gotten there, Sam had left her a note on the door.  She looked at the note again, completely flabbergasted that he was such an asshole.

Find your own way home.

They had travelled from Omaha, Nebraska to Chicago, Illinois for this Comic Con in his car.  She was desperately trying to hold herself together and not panic, but she could feel it working hard to burst down her carefully placed walls.  It was why she had curled up in a tight little ball on the floor and hadn’t gone down to see if she could get a key made for her so she could get into the room.  If she spoke to anyone, she was sure she would start bawling her eyes out.

“Is everything ok?” A voice said to her left.  She looked up to see Chris Evans standing there and he clearly recognized her. “Oh!  Hey!”

“Fuck me.” Charlie sighed as the tears started to leak out.  This was so not what she needed.  She had completely forgotten that Sam had chosen this hotel because it was where some of the celebrities were supposedly staying.  Fuck him for being correct.

Chris shifted his weight and glanced around. “Are you ok?”

“Nope.”

“Are you lost?”

“Nope.”

“Can I offer you any help?”

Charlie closed her eyes tightly. “How about a rewind on the last couple of hours of my life?”

Chris chuckled. “Sorry.  That’s a little out of my wheelhouse.”

“Mine too.”

“Seriously, are you ok?”

“Not in the slightest.” Chris sat down next to her on the floor. “He fucking left me here.  I have absolutely no way of getting home now.” Charlie wiped angrily at her wet cheeks.

“Where’s home?” “Omaha, Nebraska.”

“Shit, that’s a bit of a hike.”

“Little bit.” Charlie shoved her messy, curly, dark copper hair back from her face as the dam cracked further. “Fuck!  What the fuck am I going to do now?  I can’t even get into the hotel room because that asshat had the key!”

“Come on.” Chris stood back up and held his hand out to her.

“What?”

“You can use my room to breakdown in and then we can call down to the front desk about that key.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t, but I am.  Come on.” Chris reached down again and grabbed her hand this time.  She allowed him to lift her to her feet and then lead her down the hallway.  He opened the door to his suite and Charlie promptly started sobbing.

“I’m sorry.” She wiped at her tears aggressively again with shaking hands as Chris ushered her to the couch and sat down. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Please don’t be embarrassed.  Your boyfriend should be the embarrassed one.”

“Ex-boyfriend!” She dropped her face in her hands and shook her head. “I’m not even sure what it is I’m crying about.  That fuckwad sure doesn’t deserve my tears.” Chris walked over to the minibar and grabbed two beers.  He popped the tops on them and offered her one. “Thank you.”

“Gotta say, I’ve seen a few proposals at those things, but never a reaction like that.”

Charlie looked over and Chris was grinning hopefully at her.  It actually made her laugh. “What is my life right now?”

“What do you mean?”

“My entire quiet little world has been on the precipice of exploding, I just got abandoned in an unfamiliar city by the guy I was seeing, and I’m sitting here being comforted by a celebrity who doesn’t even know my name.”

“Right now, I’m not a celebrity.  Right now, I’m a good Samaritan who stumbled across a person in need.  It would make my mom proud.  Well, except that I haven’t properly introduced myself.” Charlie snorted as he held his hand out to her. “I’m Chris.”

“Clearly.”

“And you are….” He wiggled his hand at her and she relented, shaking it.

“Charlotte.  Everyone calls me Charlie, though.”

“Pretty.  So, Charlie, your life is about to explode?  How so?”

“You’re really asking?  Like, you really wanna know?”

“I really wanna know.”

She started picking at the label on her beer bottle. “I’m leaving everything I’ve ever known behind and moving to the East Coast in a month.  I think that’s why Sam pulled that shit today.  He doesn’t want me to leave.”

“Where are you moving to?”

“Boston.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  I accepted a job at Little Brown up there.”

“What’s that?”

“A publishing company.  It’s been my dream to become a book editor and I’ve been working towards that goal for the last four years.  I finally found a company that’s willing to give me a shot at it, but it’s in Boston.”

“That’s pretty awesome.”

“I didn’t even want to come to this thing with him, but I figured I would give him one last good weekend before I broke up with him.”

“You weren’t even going to attempt a long-distance thing?”

“When do those ever work out?”

“I don’t know.  I’m a hopeless romantic, though.”

“I’m not.” Charlie set her beer down. “I need to get into my room.  See if he left my things or destroyed them.  Knowing my luck, he’s set everything on fire.”

“I don’t think he did that.  The fire alarms haven’t gone off.”

“Good point.” She pointed at the phone on the desk. “May I?”

“Of course.”

Charlie walked over and picked up the phone, dialing the front desk. “Hi, my name is Charlotte Mackenzie.  I got locked out and I need a key to get in.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t see you registered in our system.”

“No.  My boyfriend…. Ex-boyfriend made the reservation.  It’s under his name.  Sam Cooke.  Room 828.”

“Mr. Cooke checked out.”

“What?”

“Mr. Cooke checked out a little while ago.”

“But my things are in that room.”

“I’m so sorry about that.  Mr. Cooke didn’t mention that there was anything left in the room.  We can send a maintenance man up to let you in to get your things.”

“I kind of need a place to stay tonight.”

“We’re completely booked up, but you’re more than welcome to rent that room for yourself.”

“Ok.  Yeah.  I can do that, I guess.  How much is it?”

“For tonight, the room would be $238 plus tax.”

Charlie choked on air and started hacking.  Chris came over and patted her on the back, taking the phone from her. “Hi, this is Eric Prince in suite…. Yeah.  Look, can you just put that room on my bill?  I’m certain.  I would appreciate that.  Thank you.” He hung up and offered Charlie a bottle of water.

Once her breathing was back to normal, she shot a confused look at Chris. “Eric Prince?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “Prince Eric…. From The Little Mermaid.”

“Oh.” Charlie blinked for a minute. “Did you just pay for my hotel room?”

“I did, yeah.  Was that not ok?”

“I mean…. It’s your money, you can do whatever with it, but you don’t even know me.”

“I’m not someone who can just sit here and listen to someone in distress.  If I can help, I’m going to help.” There was a knock on the door and Chris went over to answer it.  Charlie stayed seated on the couch, sipping at her water.  When he came back, he presented her with a key card. “Your room key.”

“Oh.  Thank you.” Charlie took it. “I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“It’s no problem.  Let me know if you need any more help or someone to hang out with.”

Charlie laughed. “Yeah, like Mr. Big-Shot Needs-A-Fake-Moniker has no one better to hang out with.”

He frowned slightly. “Actually, I don’t have anyone to hang out with.  I ditched my team for a quiet night in.  Being around all those people all day long…. I need a recharge.”

She nodded. “I understand that.  I’m more of an introvert with some extroverted tendencies.  When I’ve reached my limit on people, I just need to stay in and hide.  Especially if there’s a crowd.”

“Same.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Would you like to hang out with me, Charlie?  We can recharge our batteries, maybe order a pizza, rent a movie….”

“If you’re sure, then ok.  I just want to run and make sure he didn’t destroy my stuff.”

“That makes sense.” Chris followed her down the hallway to her room.  When she opened the door, she let out an angry groan while he let out a shocked whistle.  Her suitcase had been hurled across the room and it’s contents were scattered everywhere.  In the bathroom, he had squirted out all of her toothpaste, broken her toothbrush in half, destroyed most of her makeup, ripped the rows of bristles out of her hairbrush, and dumped her expensive curly hair products down the drain.

“No, no, no, no!” Charlie ran over to the suitcase and lifted it up.  Her laptop made sounds like little metal pieces were moving around inside. “Fuck!”

“Shit!  He actually broke your laptop?”

“What the hell is wrong with that guy?” Charlie started crying again as she held her broken laptop.

“A broken heart is one thing, but this….”

“He can’t have a broken heart.  We weren’t together that long!”

“Wait, how long were you two together?”

“Six months.  Today was the first time he even said he loved me.”

“Had you said it to him?”

“No!” She looked over at him. “What are you doing?” Chris had started to move around the room and picking her clothes up off the floor.

“Helping.” He started to fold the shirt in his hands.

“You really don’t need to do that.”

“I know I don’t.  You really don’t need to be so difficult.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry.  This is just a really fucked up situation and I’m not even sure which emotion it is I’m feeling.  And I really don’t mean to take it out on you.  Thank you for helping me.  It’s very kind of you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They worked together to collect her belongings and pile them on the bed.  Once they finished, the two of them tackled the bathroom.  Chris took pictures of everything and sent them to his assistant with instructions to purchase them and bring them to his room.  Charlie stopped when she got to a beautifully ornate compact mirror.  It was antique silver with filigree designs carved into it and little jewels set to resemble a starry night sky.  A few of the jewels were missing and the glass inside had been broken.  She clutched the compact and started to sob.

“Hey….” Chris gently pulled her into a hug.

“This was my mom’s.  My dad gave it to her as a wedding present when they got married.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“They died when I was eleven.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t believe he broke this.  He knew it was one of the few things of hers I have left.”

After Charlie had cried herself out, Chris helped her finish cleaning the bathroom and they went back to his room.  She curled up on the couch and he sat down on the opposite end.  They were quiet for a long moment before he finally broke the silence. “I don’t normally do this.”

“What?”

“Invite strange women to hang out with me.”

“I never said you did.”

“I know, but…. I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to get in your pants or anything.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you want me to think that?”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me.”

“What do you think my impression of you is?”

“I’m not sure.  You’re not like most women I’ve met.”

“How so?” “Well for starters, you ask a lot of questions.” Charlie chuckled. “You’re also like this open book that I can’t read.”

“That’s the most interesting thing anyone has ever said about me.  What does that mean?”

“I…. Ok, so you drop these seemingly big clues about your life.  You were incredibly vulnerable when you told me that your parents died and you’ve cried in front of me while I get the feeling that you don’t do that in front of people very often if you can help it, but none of those clues lead me any closer to being able to figure you out.”

“Do you want to figure me out?”

“I kind of do.” “Why?”

Chris smirked. “I like to read.”

Charlie and Chris sat on the couch with a half-empty pizza box between them.  A pay-per-view movie was playing on the TV, but they weren’t paying attention to it.  The two of them had been talking for hours.  He found it a welcome relief that she didn’t care about him being a celebrity and that she didn’t know anything about him.  It felt great to actually get to know someone.

“I’m really impressed.” Chris said as he looked at the pictures on her phone. “You made out like a bandit on this.”

“I just hope there aren’t any crazy issues I’ll have to fix.” Charlie was showing him the house she had bought sight-unseen at an auction.  It was a two story Colonial house in Concord.

“You realize we’re practically neighbors?”

“Are we?”

“Yeah.  I just bought a house about two miles away from here.”

“That’s weird.”

“Are you sure you’re not stalking me?”

She laughed. “Trust me, I don’t give two shits about your celebrity status.  Unless you wrote a book.  Then watch out.”

Chris handed her back her phone. “The commute to Boston might be crazy.”

Charlie shrugged. “I don’t mind.  There’s a train station and all the research I’ve done says it’s about an hour commute.”

“It is.  You’re going to love Concord.”

“Where did you say you grew up again?” “Sudbury.”

“Gotcha.”

“So, Mac, what made you want to uproot your life like this?”

Charlie laughed at the nickname he’d chosen.  She usually hated it when people tried to call her that, but for some reason Chris made it sound endearing. “You really want to open that can of worms?”

“I really do.”

“Ok.” She took a deep breath. “So, you know mom and dad died in a car accident when I was eleven.  What you don’t know is that my twin sister was in the car with them.”

“Oh shit!”

“Yeah.  I went from having a full family to being alone.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“My aunt took me in and raised me.  Aunt Millie…. She was living with her second husband in Omaha when she got the call that her brother and sister-in-law had died.  She flew out to Maine and stayed with me.  My parents had just written their wills and hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her that they’d named her guardian of their kids.” “I bet that was a big shock.”

“For everyone.  My mom’s parents thought that they should get custody of me, but aunt Millie wanted to honor my parents’ wishes.  She ended up fighting them in court and the judge ruled in her favor.  When the school year ended, we moved to her house in Omaha.  About a year later, she found out her husband was cheating on her and plotting to take my inheritance.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.  It was a pretty significant amount.  My mom’s family was pretty well off.  She had a trust fund which became mine when she died and my parents had really good life insurance.  My grandparents added the money to that trust fund that they intended to put into mine and Max’s trust funds…. Max was my twin.  Her name was Maxine.”

“I couldn’t even imagine losing all of that.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Three.  One older sister, Carly; my younger brother, Scott; and my youngest sister, Shanna.”

“That’s a lot of siblings.”

“Yeah.” Chris took a sip of his beer. “So, back to you.  I didn’t need to pay for your room, did I?” Chris smirked at her to let her know he was joking.

“You really didn’t.  I just…. I don’t really like to touch that money.  After what happened with aunt Millie’s second husband and then her third and fourth husbands…. I figured money ruined people’s lives.”

“What happened with her husbands?”

“They basically used her to try to get to that money.  After what happened with her second husband, my grandparents made it very hard for her to touch my inheritance.  I didn’t even have access to it until I graduated college.  By then, I had learned the value of a dollar by watching aunt Millie work her ass off to keep me clothed, fed, a roof over my head, and in good schools.  I had part time jobs throughout high school and college to help her.  I used scholarships and grants and a couple of student loans to pay for my college education.  I’ve only used that money for three things.”

“What were they?”

“To take aunt Millie to Europe before she died and to pay for that house in Boston.”

“Your aunt is dead?”

“She died about two years ago.  Pancreatic cancer.  That’s the third thing I used that money on.  I paid for all of her medical bills.”

“I’m so sorry, Mac.  That’s a lot to go through in only thirty-three years of life.”

Charlie shrugged. “It is, but what can I do about it?”

“When was the last time you’ve been to the East Coast?”

“I visited my grandma in Maine last year when she died.”

“Did you have a good relationship with your grandparents?”

“It was ok.  They loved me in their own way.  Mom was an only child and I was their only grandkid.  They sent me money for my birthday and Christmas.  I got Easter baskets from them, too, and I would go out for a week in the summer when I was younger because the court’s said I had to.  Those weeks…. Makes me glad that I ended up with aunt Millie.  My grandparents weren’t home very much.  I hung out with their butler in the summers.  When I turned 18, I stopped going.  I let aunt Millie have the birthday and Christmas money after that.”

“Wow.  You should write a book.”

“Why?”

“Because your life has been…. Eventful and I would even call it inspiring.”

“Maybe one day I will.  For now, I prefer to give other people chances to get their voices heard.”

“Is that what appeals to you about being a book editor?”

“Yes.  I’ve read some amazing books in my life and I used to wonder what it would be like to be the editor that gets the copy across their desk.  To be the first person to read it outside of the author and their family and know that what I have is going to make a lot of other people happy.  Not to mention the author.  Plus, I’ve been known to be a stickler for grammar, so why not put that skill to use.”

Chris chuckled. “You haven’t corrected my grammar once.”

“You’re pretty eloquent, Evans, but I’ve been silently correcting you.”

That made him tip his head back and laugh loudly, his right hand slapping against his chest.  It sucked Charlie in and they both laughed freely.  After a few minutes, they finally calmed down and wiped their eyes. “I’m really glad I asked you to hang out with me, Mac.”

“I’m glad I said yes despite the shit circumstances.  I really wanted to stay in by myself and hide from the world.”

“Why did you say yes, then?”

“You said the right thing.”

He grinned. “Good.  I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

Please let me know if you want to be tagged in this story. The more people that want to read it, the better. I want my muse to feel the pressure!

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[1-800-gaygentsofshield]

Free Food Skimmons AU

-

For Agent Daisy Johnson, struggling is an understatement. The agent is borderline broke, her paycheck for SHEILD not coming in for another week or so, taxes and rent are due, there’s a waterline problem that she needs to fix, May wants her to train twice as long now, and she’s starving.

Daisy stumbles into the SHEILD building/base with her headphones in and her hair tied up in a messy ponytail, trying to smooth out her Stanford shirt and black jeans. Food, I just need food, the stands have free food this early in the morning right? Daisy grabs a coffee on the way to the stands, the dull hum in her stomach making her snappy.

She lights up at the sight of the free food, picking up the pace in her walk as she eyes it. Oh yess, free muffin? Please and thank you. Daisy’s hand reaches to grab the last pumpkin butterscotch muffin when another hand comes in and bumps into hers.

Like a animal and it’s prey Daisy’s eyes snap up to look at the person who dares to try and take her muffin from her. When their eyes meet all of Daisy’s anger and territorial-ness melt away at the sight of the other agent. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!” The woman apologizes and Daisy is there staring dumbly at her. And she’s British, good god.

“I-I, uhm-” Daisy sputters out, her hand retracting from the fresh muffin. “Oh I’m so sorry, how rude of me. I’m Agent Jemma Simmons from Biochemistry but you can call me Jemma.” The Brit says, holding her hand out for Daisy to shake. She shakes the biochems hand and smiles, a blush forming on her cheeks. It is way too early to be talking to attractive British scientists. “Agent Daisy Johnson from computers. You can call me Daisy, or Skye if you’d like..for like most of my life I self named myself Skye even though in St.Agnes they named me Mary Sue Poots. But, then one day my father came along and told me my real name was Daisy so-” The hacker cuts herself off from rambling as she glances at the biochemist.

She thought the other agent would be weirded out by Daisy’s sudden rambling but she only finds the scientists smile grow even wider. “Well, Daisy, you can have the muffin.” Jemma smiles and Daisy looks at her in awe, the light dusting of freckles on her cheeks, her golden brown, mid-length hair falling down her shoulders, she’s so flipping attractive holy hell. After a few moments of silence of Daisy just staring, Jemma clears her throat, “You can have the muffin Skye.” She says with more clarity and Daisy shakes her head.

“Oh I’m okay, you can have it. I can always grab food somewhere cheep..” Daisy lets her sentence fall as she hears how lame it sounds. “If you insist.” Jemma says, her tone implying that she’s not completely convinced as she slowly grabs the muffin.

Just as her fingertips close around the baked good, Daisy’s stomach betrays her and it grumbles. Loud. The hacker feels her cheeks flush red before she hears a giggle from the other agent, that same knee weakening look on her face.

“Why don’t we share, come Daisy.” Jemma decides, grabbing the taller girls wrist and gently tugging her to a table in the building’s courtyard. They sit down and Jemma pulls out a plastic knife Daisy didn’t know she had grabbed, cutting the mouth watering muffin in pieces.

“Here we go.” Jemma smiles and picks up a piece, waiting for Daisy to do so as well before eating it. Daisy practically groans at the taste, the pumpkin spiced flavored muffin mixed with the warm butterscotch chocolate chips melting in her mouth. “Mm this tastes like heaven.” Daisy groans, making the other woman giggle at her reaction.

They finish the sacred muffin as they talk about work and life in general, both of them putting in commentary to make the other laugh. Once they finish Daisy gets up to throw the wrapper away before coming back to Jemma and smiling.

“Thanks for accompanying me for a single muffin.” Daisy teases and Jemma smiles, grabbing her stuff. “I’ll see you later? I’m guessing we’ll meet again soon.” Jemma says and Daisy nods, a hopeful look on both girls faces.

“Hopefully, I’ll see you later Doctor Simmons.” Daisy smiles before walking towards her designated work wing.

-

The next day they run into each other again at the food stand, both of them smiling as they lock eyes and wordlessly communicate to share today’s muffin.

As they eat their free muffin together they go over what they’re planning to do, such as what type of samples Jemma is testing today and what kind of code Daisy’s planning on decrypting.

-

Soon they fall into a routine, each day meeting the other at the same table in the SHEILD courtyard with the days free breakfast food. It’s usually muffins but other times they share breakfast sandwiches, bagels, dry cereal, and more.

One day though, when the two were sharing a chocolate chip muffin, Daisy gets an idea.

“Hey Jemma, would you like to accompany me for lunch? We have breakfast with each other each day so why not? I enjoy your company a lot.” Daisy says sheepishly and Jemma beams like she just won the lottery.

“Of course, same table?” Jemma asks and Daisy nods, a equally wide smile on her face.

-

Breakfast and lunch. That’s the highlight of the pairs day, seeing each other when they first walk in and rushing to the table when they’re dismissed for lunch.

This goes on for two months, each of them never getting bored of the others company. It’s nice actually, after a particularly hard mission Jemma would sit on Daisy’s side of the table and comfort her, letting her vent and cry on her shoulder. They bring two different worlds with them to the table, Daisy being a field agent and Jemma being in the lab, so it’s nice talking about it with someone who understands but doesn’t at the same time.

“Hey, would you like to accompany me for dinner at my apartment after our shift?” Jemma asks one day, eating a salad as Daisy is eating a loaded wrap. “Yes, of course Jem.” Daisy smiles, taking a drink from her water bottle. “Okay, meet me here once your shift is done so we can share a ride to my apartment.” Jemma beams and the hacker nods. “It’s a date then.” Daisy declares and a blush forms on both of the girls cheeks. “It’s a date.”

-

They’re still in that odd talking stage when Daisy doesn’t show up to breakfast and Jemma gets a call. Jemmas sitting at the table in the corner, a pumpkin butterscotch muffin sitting in front of her as she waits patiently for Daisy, a smile on her face as she remembers that faithful morning.

The biochemist gets a bad feeling in her stomach when it’s 30 minutes past when Daisy usually arrives through the doors, her hair usually messy but a smile still planted on her face.

20 minutes later her phone vibrates in her pocket, making Jemma jump at the sudden sound. She fishes the ringing device out of her pocket and presses the green button, holding it up to her ear. “Is this Jemma?” A voice says and her eyebrows furrowing, no one calls her by her first name accept Daisy or Fitz.

“This is her, yes.” She says and she hears a sigh of relief on the other line. “I’m here from the SHEILD hospital wing, you’re Agent Johnson’s emergency contact-” As soon as she hears the word emergency contact she stands up abruptly from her chair and grabs the muffin, placing it in her bag and walking towards the hospital wing.

“When did she get here.” Jemma asks as her mind starts racing at the possibilities. “An hour ago.” The voice says and she flares up. “I am the head of the medical and biochemistry departments, why the hell was I not informed the second she got in.” She hisses and the voice at the other end freezes.

“D-Doctor Simmons, I-I’m so sorry I had no clue it was you, I-I-” The voice tries to explain and Jemma cuts them off. “What room.” She deadpans, rushing through the medical wing doors.

“R-room 4C.” The voice says. She doesn’t respond as she hangs up and runs up the flight of stairs, slowing down once she reaches room 4C.

“Doctor Simmons you’re her-” Another intern tries to suck up to her but she holds her hand up and silenced them, grabbing Daisy’s chart and walking into her room.

The biochemist closes the door behind her and looks at the intern who called her, “Doctor Simmons I’m so sorry I didn’t tell-” The intern starts and Jemma shakes her head. “Out Fisher.” She commands and he quickly leaves with his tail between his legs.

“Fucking interns.” Jemma huffs as she sees Diasy awake with a loopy smile on her face. “Oh thank god.” She says, rushing over to Daisy’s side and checking her vitals. “Poor intern, you went off on him over the phone.” Daisy smiles, wincing as she lightly laughs. “Sorry, I’m just frustrated that you got in a hour ago and I wasn’t informed the second you got admitted.” Jemma sighs, pulling up a chair and sitting next to the agent.

“It’s not like I’m complaining, dom Jemma is kinda hot.” Daisy jokes, making a blush appear on the Brits face. They both smile softly at each other as they fall into a comfortable silence, the steady beeping of the heart monitor cutting through it.

“You have me as your emergency contact?” Jemma says, her voice sweet and her smile even sweeter.

Daisy blushes and closes her eyes, a smile still on her face before she feels Jemmas hand slide into hers. “Yeah it is, I’m sorry it might be too foward, I just don’t have anyone else and the first person I thought that would make the trip for me was you an-”

Jemma cuts off Daisy’s rambling by placing a kiss on her lips, her other hand gently cupping her cheek. “It’s sweet, thank you. And of course, even if I was halfway across the world I’d still make the journey for you.” Jemma says softly, a blush taking residence in Daisy’s cheeks once again.

“You’re perfect Jemma Simmons..” Daisy trails off and Jemma shakes her head, humming lightly as they enjoy the closeness. “Kiss me again Doctor Simmons, it’ll help with my pain.” Daisy whispers and the Brit laughs softly, “If it helps the patients wellbeing then who am I to deny it?” Jemma jokes, leaning in again and kissing her soundly.

They kiss for a few minutes, happy that they’re together and Daisy’s okay. Jemma slowly pulls away and smiles, squeezing the agents hand as they lock eyes. “Now that you’re okay..” Jemma starts, gently hitting Daisy’s non-bandaged shoulder. “What the bloody hell happened to you?” Jemma asks and the hackers hand comes up to hold her shoulder.

“Mm, mission went south. We were dealing with Hydra agents and they threatened to capture one of our biochemists for information. They showed us your picture so I did the most reasonable thing when someone threatenes to hurt the girl you’re interested in, I killed them. One of them took me by surprise though and shot me in the shoulder before May killed them.” Daisy explains, Jemma staying silent the entire time and listening intently until she’s finished.

“Oh Skye, honey..” Jemma whispers, her hand gently caressing the brunettes cheek and Daisy leaning into the touch. “Darling that was very sweet and heroic but I don’t want you going around and risking your life trying to protect me.” The scientist says softly and Daisy shakes her head.

“If it means kisses and cuddles I’ll take the chance.” She jokes and Jemma playfully shakes her head. “There’s better ways to get kisses than taking bullets for me.” She hums, her thumb running over Daisy’s knuckles.

“Noted..Hey Jem?” Daisy says after a few beats, making the smaller girls eyes perk up. “Will you be my girlfriend?” She asks sheepishly, her grip slightly tightening on the doctors hand. “Of course darling.” Jemma hums and Daisy looks like a kid on christmas morning. The hacker practically beams with pride and Jemma laughs softly before leaning in and kissing her girlfriend deeply.

[hitchell-mope]

(First film. Prologue. Instead of an iPad activated by Mal, Jay is in a white void room dressed for the coronation his hands are glowing brightest gold with magic)

Jay: once upon a time, well, two decades ago. The town loony’s daughter. Married the accursed beast. Of course he wasn’t a beast when they tied the knot (his magic creates images of the story as he tells it) true loves kiss solves everything. They had no honeymoon. Instead. Adam brought the kingdoms together and became the king of the United States of Auradon. And guess what he did? (Chuckles darkly) the overly shaved bastard pooled together his resources and magic. And engaged in necromancy, bringing back all the villains (passing by a line of said villains) you know the usual suspects, crown head, dragon lady, the psychotic furrier and my father. The mad genie. (He pauses in front of Jafar’s frozen form). Along with many many others who died in their stories. The “heroes”, for want of a better word, brought them all back. Along with the sidekicks and basically anyone who didntbfir in their perfect widdle bubble. To add insult to injury. The barrier they put up around the prison prevented them leaving even though the god of the dead were among the throngs punished. Can’t get out with out the fairy godmothers wand you see. There’s also no WiFi. So the days and nights are positively tedious. So it left them with nothing to do but procreate. How did they think villains would tear their own offspring when they’ve tried to murder innocents on multiple occasions. Needless to say their absolutely shit as parents. So we try to stay away as much as we can. Form gangs. Safety in numbers. It helps when you can turn some creepy old man who’s looking at your friend inside out with a snap of your fingers. You’ll meet more of us soon. But for now (he walks up to Ben’s portrait) you get to see the oh so handsome prince fight on our behalf against his nimrod of a father to give us basic human rights. See you soon

(His body glows completely gold and he disappears in a flash of light. Ben’s portrait is zoomed in on and changes to him rushing down a hallway with Doug)

Ben: oh darn we’re late

Doug: it’s alright. It’s not like they can start the meeting without you. You did call it after all

Ben: good point. Ohhhh if this doesn’t work I swear I’m holing myself up in my room with teenage dirtbag on repeat for a week

Doug: it’ll work

Ben: oh I hope so

(They burst into the meeting room. Several adults turn to look at him. Ben looks like he might pass out)

Ben: heh hhhhhhhhi heh heh

(He falls backwards but Doug catches him)

Doug: sorry about that but it was a long walk

Belle: it’s ok Doug. There was more then enough tea.

Adam: son.

Ben: mom. Pop. Uhhhh

Leah: Benjamin will this take long. I’m sure Audrey is waiting for you

Ben: pardon.

Leah: I’ve set reservations at a What was it Aurora?

Aurora: Burger King mommie. I suggested it.

Leah: why?

Belle (every fibre of her being fighting to not roll her eyes): anyway. Ben. What is it you wanted to talk to us about.

Ben: uh. Heh heh. As you all know I’m going to be king in a few months.

Adam: and we couldn’t be prouder

Leah: Audrey is so looking forward to your coronation then there’s the cotillion and we all know what comes after.

Snow: your majesty’s. Please. Let Ben speak. The poor child looks as though he might faint. Hello Doug dear

Doug: hi aunt Snow.

Snow: carry on Ben dear

Ben (slightly less nervous now): thank you your highness. As I was saying. I’m going to be king in a few months and I needed to decide on my first proclamation. And I’ve finally thought of one-hang on. Where are mr and Mrs Dearly

Beast: who?

Snow: the ones with all the delightful doggies

Leah: mutts. They are mutts. Who need to be shot

Aurora: I’m sorry for her. She’s recently been taken ill and hasn’t been quite the same since

Belle: she broke a leg coming back from a hunting trip. That is no excuse for her god awful behaviour

Leah: whatever do you mean?

Belle: I’d tell you. But then we’d be here forever

(Ben stays standing there unsure of what to do)

Doug: I think it may be time for Ben to say his piece yes?

Belle, Aurora and Snow: yes.

Doug: thank you. Carry on Ben

Adam: why are you here.

Doug: pardon?

Leah: yes Adam. I would like to know as well. Why are you here. Whoever you are

Doug: ah ha ooh boy. I’m Doug. Ben’s future major-domo. I’ve been in his class since pre-K.

(Leah just stares blankly at him)

Doug (long suffering sigh): my father is dopey the dwarf. Diamond miner. Made Audrey’s tennis bracelet

Leah: oh yes. So why are you in a meeting meant for royalty

Ben: IWANTTOBRINGCHILDRENOVERFROMTHEISLANDOFTHELOST

(All adults are silent. The the Dearly’s burst in)

Anita: we are so sorry we’re late. BB-8 got hold of my patent leather pumps and why does it feel like death warmed up

Belle: Ben. I’m. I’m

Leah: appalled. And so is everyone else. You have have something to do with this don’t you dwarf?

Doug (under his breath): that didn’t take long

Adam: this. Really. This is your first proclamation? Of all things

Leah (damn near hysterical): why not just tax the rich!

Aladdin: oh shut up you old bitch. Go on Ben

Ben: thank you. Al

Leah: you will address the sultan by his proper title you little bollocks

Belle: ok that’s it. Get out you psychotic old biddy

(Leah gasps dramatically)

Belle: Lumiere would you please?

Lumiere: of course ma’am

(He physically drags Leah from the room)

Jasmine: I’m assuming that us being here has something to do with what children you are picking

Ben: I

Doug (not willing to let Ben take the blame if it all goes wrong): we

Ben (immensely grateful): we, thank you Doug, looked through records and dossiers and found the first four, of many, we’d like to bring over.

Belle (encouragingly): go on dear

Ben (more firmly): the children of, Jafar, Cruella De Vil, Queen Grimhilde. And Maleficent

(From the hallway Leah lets out a hysterical screech. Belle throws a stress ball at the door to shut her up. The rest remain silent)

Roger: they, they uh. Oh my god.

Adam (trying to regain control of the situation): Dearly calm down. It’s not as bad as you believe

Anita (laughing hollowly): not bad. N. Not bad. How can it not be bad. Cruella De Vil has a child!

Aurora: oh those poor dears

Snow: stepmother has a baby? I’m a sister. No. Wait. They wouldn’t be fathers.

Phillip: how old are they.

Adam: it matters not how old they are

Aladdin, Roger and Phillip: THE HELL IT DOESN’T

Phillip: TWENTY YEARS. I SLAYED THE DRAGON. YOU BROUGHT HER BACK. AND NOW WE FIND OUT SHE HAS A CHILD. Oh my god!

Snow: I feel sick.

Adam: now look what you’ve done Ben.

Aurora: Ben didn’t engage in necromancy and bring people who have hurt us back from the dead, dump them on an island that we can all see from our windows. And leave them to raise children. I for one commend him on wanting to try and do what’s right by those that we have left to squander.

Ben: thank you Aurora

Belle: when do you plan on bringing them over dear?

Ben: about that.

(Aladdin laughs. Well. Cackles is more like it)

Jasmine: today?

Ben: yes. At least. I hope so.

Anita: pardon dear?

Doug: we don’t know what their parents are like. If they are like the sultan and her husband or if they are like

Phillip (looking directly at Adam): I completely understand. It’s just

Aurora: we’re going on vacation to Malta. Right after this meeting in fact. So

Ben: no matter how much you want to meet Maleficent’s child. You can’t.

Aurora: if it helps. Audrey will be here I’m sure she’ll support you in your des... (Belle gives her a withering stare) yeah I know.

Ben: I told her last month, when I came up with the idea in fact

Phillip: and

Ben: she laughed me off. Then made me take her shopping.

Doug: if it helps Lonnie Jane fairy godmother and I are 100% behind him king Phillip

Phillip: it does actually Doug. Thank you

Ben: dad. Just hear me out. Every time I look out there over the water I feel like we abandoned them.

Adam: then close the drapes

Leah (from the hallway): hear hear

Belle: SHUDDIT

Aladdin: I for one love the idea. I look forward to meeting them.

Ben: thank you sir

Belle: when do we expect them

Ben: this afternoon. Hopefully.

Belle: and I’m assuming you’ve had this set up for a while

Doug: fairy godmother had helps us get everything ready.

Belle: that’s good. I suggest we adjourn this meeting so Ben can put the finishing touches on the task.

(Everyone leaves the room. Ben and Doug stay behind with Belle)

Ben: thanks mom

Doug: thank you your majesty

Belle: you’re welcome boys. Remember. My door is always open

(All three leave and go their separate ways. The boys head to Ben’s room where two girls are waiting)

Lonnie: well?

Ben: mom’s on board

Lonnie: and your dad?

Doug: who gives a shit what he thinks?

Lonnie: true.

Ben: thank you. All three of you. I couldn’t have done it without you all

Jane: you didn’t need me.

Ben: I did. Your my friends. I can hardly do anything without you guys

Lonnie: well there are a couple of things you need to do with our us. Exams for instance

Doug: thank god you said exams

Jane: uh oh

Ben: what?

Jane: 3...2...1...

(Another girl throws open the door and walks in like she owns the place)

Doug (aside to Jane): you have to teach me that

Jane: it’s magic. You can’t learn it. I don’t even want it.

Audrey: of course you don’t

[roboticonography]

Fic preview: The Fixed Foot

Pals, I regret to inform you that the fic I had planned to post today is not done. I was hoping to put the finishing touches on it today, but out of nowhere it got a lot longer and somewhat sexier, so I hope you’ll forgive me for posting just this first part, a small taste of things to come.

The title is a reference to John Donne’s “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning,” which has been in the back of my mind ever since Agent Carter’s S1 finale episode.

Extended metaphors about compasses for the win.

This is for Day 1 of Steggy Week 2019: It’s Endgame, Baby!

===========

He starts with a date range. He doesn’t want to risk making things too complicated. This is going to be tricky enough as is.

He reads up on Peggy. He’s avoided knowing some of the details thus far; she wasn’t able to tell him directly, and using the internet felt intrusive.

There isn’t a lot of detailed information to be had through official channels. Employment forms and tax forms give him a dry chronology of cities, addresses, changes in marital status.

Howard’s butler’s unpublished memoirs are more illuminating. Edwin Jarvis uses pseudonyms for all of Howard’s associates, but it isn’t hard to figure out the identity of “Nancy,” who nearly knocked Jarvis unconscious the first time they met. In spite of that—or maybe even because of it—he seems to have really liked Peggy. (Steve can’t imagine meeting her and not liking her, but he is, of course, biased.)

Steve discovers that Peggy and a friend lived in one of Howard’s Manhattan penthouses for a period of time in the late 40s, after both of them were “asked to vacate” a women’s boarding house. He suspects there’s more to the story than that. He hopes he’ll get to hear it in person.

In one entry, Jarvis specifically mentions that Peggy is single. He seems to be one of those types who loves being married so much that he thinks everyone ought to try it at least once.

Steve decides on a date.

He collects the things he’ll need: a set of clothes, a paper map, some valuables he can hock for cash when he gets there, and a few keepsakes that won’t give him away.

He debates whether to get a different haircut, whether to grow a beard or get a pair of glasses. He wishes Natasha were here to help him with this part.

He wishes Natasha were here for a lot of reasons.

He reads everything he can get his hands on: what’s happening in politics, movies, music. Who made it to the World Series. It’s a sobering reminder of the time he’s returning to, and the battles that will lie ahead.

He has Bruce explain how time travel works, again and again, until it finally feels like it might be starting to sink in. He doesn’t want to do anything that might cause harm to his loved ones—those in the here and now, or those in the past. But he also knows himself. He knows he won’t be able to sit idly by.

Bruce assures him that there’s nothing he can do in the past that will alter what’s already taken place. His actions will create a new timeline, with its own outcomes; once he’s there, he won’t be able to take anything for granted.

Last but not least, he makes sure he has a backup plan. He loves Peggy, and he knows Peggy loves him, but it’s got to be her choice.

Bucky figures it out, of course. 

Sam doesn’t.

*

The one thing he should have thought to check was the weather report. The night he lands, it’s raining in sheets. The sidewalks are flooded.

He finds a spot to disable his quantum suit and change into the clothes he brought, which are instantly soaked as soon as he goes outside. Naturally, he didn’t think to bring an umbrella.

By the time he makes it over to Howard’s building, he looks like a drowned rat. The concierge eyes him suspiciously when he asks if Miss Carter is in.

“Who?”

“Margaret Carter. I know she lives here. She’s a friend of mine. Please.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t help you.”

He scans the cavernous lobby; he doesn’t particularly want to have their reunion here, under the watchful eye of the building’s staff, but he may not have much choice.

Mercifully, the place is empty, aside from a single resident. Her back is to Steve, but her arrow-straight nylons and her tidy blonde pincurls remind him of Peggy, and he feels a heady rush of longing and anticipation. 

Watching her collect a letter from a bank of tidy pigeon-holes along one wall, he has a brainwave: he’ll leave Peggy a note. She might not believe it, but it’ll probably at least make her curious enough to want to meet him. And it’ll give her time to adjust to the idea before seeing him in person.

He borrows a sheet of paper and a fountain pen from the concierge, and makes an effort not to drip on the counter as he ponders what to write. He tries to think of a place nearby where they could meet.

“Is there an all-night diner anywhere around here?”

The concierge has just opened his mouth to reply when Steve is distracted by someone tugging on his sleeve.

It’s the woman who was picking up her mail. She’s young, and looks strangely familiar, though Steve has no clue where they might have met. Hopefully not at a USO show.

Fortunately, she doesn’t seem especially star-struck. “If you’re just looking for coffee and pie, I know an okay place,” she tells him, pointing to the waitress’s uniform under her rain slicker.

“Great, thanks.”

“Did I hear you asking for Peg earlier?”

Steve nods.

“She went to the pictures. I’m the roommate.” The blonde loops her arm through his. “You can wait upstairs, it’s okay. I’ll even scare up a cup of coffee for you, pro bono. Come on.”

He knows he shouldn’t; he needs to get his story straight with Peggy before he starts interacting with her social circle. But he’s been on the move for days, and it’s miserable outside.

“Sure. Thanks.”

*

The apartment is huge, a carefully curated monument to old-school wealth: antique furniture and oil paintings, dark wood and heavy fabric. The only thing that keeps it from being oppressive is the elegant simplicity of the architecture: long, clean lines and tall windows.

Angela—Angie—has the kitchen send up a tea tray. It’s enough food for six people, which is a blessing, because Steve is starving. He has to force himself not to be a pig.

“Nice spread,” he observes. He’s trying to remember the way he used to talk. It feels like he’s back in his USO days, playing a parody of himself.

Angie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. “I know! Oh, how the other half lives,” she says, comically, shoving half a raisin scone into her mouth.

Steve suddenly realizes where he knows her from: a 1951 movie musical called Life of the Party. She was billed as Ella Martin, but the cheeky grin is the same, and the strident voice. She couldn’t sing worth a lick, but she had razor-sharp comedic timing.

“So what’s your story?” asks Angie, still chewing. “How do you know Peg?”

“We met overseas during the war.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your name?”

He hesitates before replying, “My friends call me Steve.”

“That your way of telling me you want to be friends?”

“I’d like that a lot,” he tells her, with absolute sincerity.

She licks her fingers and eyes him suspiciously.

“I promise I’m not…” All the euphemisms he can think of are modern ones. “Trying to get anywhere with you,” he finishes, awkwardly.

“Good.” She nods in agreement with herself, and tops off his teacup.

Angie supplies the deficiency of the small talk, while Steve quietly polishes off most of the pastries. For the first time in days, he feels like he can let his guard down a little.

He starts to sink deeper into the plush sofa, his mind drifting pleasantly as Angie regales him with a story about a customer who tried to smuggle a cat into the automat in a briefcase.

Down the hall, the elevator dings.

“Angie?”

The sound of Peggy’s voice hits him like a sucker punch. It must show on his face because Angie asks, “You okay?”

“Fine. Thanks.” He sits up straighter, suddenly uncertain of where he should put his elbows.

“In here, Peg!” Angie hollers.

Steve can hear Peggy talking quietly—and a distinctly male voice whispering back.

“There’s someone with her,” says Steve.

“Probably just Daniel.”

“Who’s that?”

“Oh boy.” Her voice is suddenly soft, sympathetic. “Been a while since you saw her, huh?”

Before he can get the answer out, Peggy strides into view.

Her hair is different—longer than he’s ever seen it, swept over to one side in soft waves, like Veronica Lake. Her burgundy dress is perfectly molded to her magnificent figure, and has a very appealing neckline. She even has a tan, as though she’s just come home from a long beach holiday. 

She looks youthful, beautiful, vital. Happy.

“How was the picture?” calls Angie, oblivious.

“Absolute rubbish,” Peggy proclaims.

“It wasn’t that bad,” says her companion, helping her off with her coat. He’s young, good-looking, also tanned, and clearly smitten. “You’re just not very romantic, that’s all.”

“Oh!” She tosses the coat over a chair before turning to smack him on the arm. He chuckles, jokingly fending her off with his crutch.

Steve suddenly regrets not leaving a note.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

[mintchocolateleaves]

Hiya! If you're still interested in taking requests, I'd love to see more Ran-centric pieces in the world. She seems to get pushed to the sidelines in a lot of cases, so it'd be lovely to read something from her perspective.

I actually have the first chapter to a ShinRan fic. It’s a university-au, and it’s from Ran’s POV, so I hope this counts? If it doesn’t, lemme know. xD

Summary: Despite herself, Ran finds herself curious about the criminology student she always notices running across campus. ShinRan. University AU. 

“Youhaving fun, Ran?”

Abovethe noise, old music from the 2000s blasting through far too big speakers,Sonoko’s voice reaches Ran’s ears. She offers a smile, lifts her cup of dietcoke and offers a small nod.

It’s nother most enjoyable task, going to parties and clubbing, but she doesn’t hateit. Maybe she’d enjoy it more if everyone else were sober, not making a messout of themselves, but then it would lose all university charm.

Orrather, that’s what Sonoko says.

“Yeah,”Ran says in response, “It’s not half bad.”

Sonoko’sforehead wrinkles into a frown as she asks, “You mean it’s only half good?”

“Ohhush,” Ran says, sipping from her plastic cup. It would make her feel more likeshe’s stepped out of an American movie if the cup were red, if there were morethan dancing and drinking games immersed into the room. But there isn’t, andRan’s only a little disappointed. “You know what I mean.”

“Sure,sure,” Sonoko says, and she continues to dance. Sonoko isn’t a bad dancer, per say, but she’s had alittle drink and her usual grace is squandered by alcohol. “Dance with me Ran.”

Ranisn’t much of a dancer, but Sonoko grabs her hands and suddenly her cup issomething to be balanced as they sway together, swinging their hands left andright in time with the music.

It’s notdancing as much as it’s the jerking of their limbs, but it makes Ran smile andyeah, this party isn’t half bad.

-

Theyhead back to their dorm at around one a.m., not too late by Ran’s standards,but not too early for Sonoko’s. Sonoko mutters something under her breath butRan barely hears her.

The walkisn’t far. They only need to walk from one end of campus to the other end, butsomehow, with the cold biting at their heels, the walk takes longer than itusually does.

It’sprobably not helping that Ran is helping Sonoko stay up – not that her best friendis that drunk. But a tipsy Sonoko, isa clingy Sonoko, a hug-loving Sonoko.

“Let’swalk faster,” Sonoko says, and she shivers, realises just how cold it is. Thegrip on Ran’s arm tightens, as if this will help. “I’m freezing, Ran.”

“So amI,” Ran says.

And somust everyone else outside of the dorms, because seconds pass and then Ran canhear heavy footsteps beside her, running. Out of the corner of her eye, shespots a man, coat fluttering around him, one glove on, the other off, racingacross the universities’ crossroads in front of her.

“Ithought we were over this,” he hisses to himself, as he races, “but now I’m bothcold, and an idiot.”

Ranalmost wants to talk to him, but there’s something in his expression that sayshe’ll only be more stressed by the conversation. Plus, he looks pale enough tobe freezing.

“Someonelooks unhappy,” Sonoko croons. She readjusts her headband and offers Ran asmile. “Whenever I see bits of peoples lives like this, I always want to knowwhat’s happened.”

Ofcourse, she does. Sonoko is an amazing best friend, but even Ran needs to admitthat she’s extremely nosey. To the point where sometimes, Ran thinks it’s morea hindrance than a good thing.

“Iknow,” Ran says. After a small pause, “I hope he’s alright.”

Sonokoshrugs as if to say, ‘we’ll never know’.

“Let’sget back,” Ran says, “before we freeze.”

-

Shedoesn’t expect to see him again, the man who’d been running so late at night,frustrated, but it’s almost as if now that she’s seen him, he’s popping upeverywhere. Ran concludes that he’d always been there, running around campusbut that she’d never been looking, has simply never noticed.

Sheisn’t sure.

All sheknows for certain is that this guy worries her. Running around as much as hedoes, stressing under his breath makes her concerned that he’s simply toostressed. After the first few times, Ran makes it a task during her day to seeif she can spot him.

And mostdays, she does. In the corner of her eye, he’ll pop up and she’ll turn,spotting him, feeling both worried for all the stress he carries on hisshoulders, and nervous that someone is going to point out that she’s searchingfor him like he’s the main character of the ‘where’s wally’ books.

Shecarries her concern with her, and it lingers, growing every time she sees himrush past with pursed lips or with brows knitted together in a frown. Ran justwants to grab him by the shoulders, tell him to slow down and simply ask ifhe’s okay.

Everytime she feels like she can simply… conjure up some confidence to ask if he’sokay however, he’s always in the middle of some sort of disappearing act. Hernervousness to ask if he’s alright is nothing against his haste.

So, Randoesn’t ask.

(Even ifshe does start daydreaming about what it would be like to just tell him to slow down.)

-

Sometimes,Ran thinks maybe she cares a little too much.

This isa stranger, after all. Someone who’s life she has no permission to ask after.It doesn’t change the fact that she cares though, whether she should or not.Ran’s always been weird in that respect – has always left herself open, wallsdown, more vulnerable and capable of feeling an overwhelming amount at onetime.

Still,it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have any feelings about the situation, aboutwanting to leave a random stranger less stressed.

Maybeit’s because she has high empathy, or maybe she’s just a weirdo like so many of her classmates back in high school hadclaimed but it doesn’t matter. Because there’s nothing she can change about thesituation.

It is,what it is.

-

“Excuseme,” She says, finally, when she spots him in the student union shop. She takesadvantage of the fact that they’re both in the same queue, hiding temporarilyfrom the rain. It’s the first time she’s seen him stand in one place for ashort time.

He turnsever so slightly at the sound of her voice, and she doesn’t want to invade hispersonal space, so she says, “I’m sorry, excuse me?” to get his attention, allthe while feeling like her own awkwardness is a pit in her stomach, ready to makeher squirm and question every word she says.

It’s thefirst time she’s really seen his face, and wow – he makes eye contact with her,and his eyes are a vibrant blue, brighter than any he’s seen before. It’senough to temporarily make her lose focus, but then, Ran steels herself,continues before he decides to turn back around.

“I’msorry,” she says, “It’s just – well, I’ve seen you rushing around campus abunch of times now and you always seem… taxed, like the stress is getting toyou – I mean– uh–”

Shereceives a raised eyebrow. It’s all Ran needs to realise that she’s rambling,that she needs to get to the point before she runs out of words to say.

“Iguess, I’ve just been wanting to ask if – well – you’re okay?”

Hisexpression shifts. For a moment, he’d been staring almost absently at her, asshe’d spoken, but as Ran comes to a finish, his lips tug upwards, quirking intoa small smile. Soft, gentle and almost, dare Ran say, appreciative.

“Hah,”he starts, and his voice is deeper that she’d expected, as if he’s recoveringfrom a cough. It’s almost… rough. “I didn’t realise that people noticed all myrunning around.”

A pause,and then he continues:

“Butyeah,” his lips quirk more, a wider smile, lighting up his face, “I’m okay.Probably a little overworked, but who here studying isn’t?”

Ran letsherself grin. It’s relief that moulds her muscles into place. The worry that’sbeen building in her chest with every spotting of him quickly eases, thepressure alleviating to a point where she feels like she can breathe properlyagain.

It’sdefinitely weird that she cares this much, Ran just knows it is.

“Ah,”she says, nodding her head. “That’s good, I’m glad that you’re good.”

And sheis – she shouldn’t be because, once again, she reminds herself that this is astranger, but she is.

There’sa light in his eyes, a sort of glimmer that reflects against his pupils, andRan is temporarily blinded by it. She’s certain there’s mischievousness hidingbehind that light, hidden and only ever brought out on those who he’s closestto.

Ranwonders what mischief he gets up to. Whether he even has the time to, if he’s overworked.

“What’syour name?” He asks, and Ran offers her name up, not thinking twice about it.She lives on a university campus, after all, she’s used to meeting new peopleconstantly, sharing names and conversation simply because they can.

Randomconversations on a university campus aren’t so scary, not to Ran. She’s not themost social person, but she’s not overly shy, she doesn’t think.

“I’mShinichi,” he says. He doesn’t offer a surname, which means that until Ran canfind out his surname, she’s going to be stuck calling him by a less formalhonorific. Perhaps that’s a plan he constantly has in action.

Eitherway, she doesn’t have the time to ask after his family name, because he turns,glances at the cashier and offers a small grin.

“That’sme, it seems,” Shinichi says, “I guess I’ll see you around on campus.Hopefully.”

“Yeah,”Ran says, and offers a small snort. It’s unladylike, not dignified in theslightest, but Ran doesn’t care. “With the amount you run around the campus,there’s no doubt that I’ll see you somewhere.”

Hesmirks, and then, once again, seems to disappear as if he’s in some sort ofrush.

-

“Oh, Mouri-san, hey!”

Ranblinks as she registers the words, tears her gaze away from the street, whereshe’s been stood for minutes, waiting, watching out for the shuttle bus thatwill take her from the university’s smaller campus back to the main campus.

For amoment, she barely registers the voice – she has, after all, only heard it onone occasion – but then her mind fills in the blank, and she realises that itis Shinichi, jogging up from the university buildings to the bus stop.

He liftshis hand up in a small wave.

Ranwaves back, glad to see that his shoulders seem less tense this time. It’s thefirst time she’s seeing him moderately stress-free. “Shinichi-san, hey! Youstudy on this campus?”

He dipshis head into a half-nod, stopping beside her. “Both actually. I’m a doublemajor, one subject brings me here. It’s uh – pretty inconvenient some days,actually.”

Thatmakes sense, Ran supposes. University time tables aren’t always the best atsetting classes up. She’s heard complaints of the physics students in the past,saying that they’d had one lecture at the campus’ planetarium, twenty minutesaway, booked in immediate succession to their astrophysics lecture.

It makessense that this could be a reason for stress, Ran can’t imagine that it’s veryeasy to rush between two various campus’. She’s almost glad that she remainsjust on the one.

“Howabout you?” Shinichi asks, pushing his hands into his pockets. “You study onthis campus too?”

Ranlifts up the novel she’s holding – Mishima Yukio’s ‘The Temple of the Golden Pavilon’ – and offers a small shrug.“Yeah, I’m a Japanese literature major. Minor in English. We can’t all jumpbetween two campus’.”

She’sexcluding, of course, the fact that all of the student dormitories are centredon the main campus, just a ten-minute walk from the main lecture halls. Shinichinods his head, and is silent for a second, as if taking the information,memorising it.

Then, inperfect English, “Now I’ve got someone I can have secret conversations with.”

Ranflushes. Sonoko had said that in the past, when they’d decided to take Englishtogether – except, Sonoko is more experienced, has grown up multilingual, dueto her parent’s business, and had found herself in the advanced classes.

“I’m notthat good,” Ran responds back, although it does feel nice to practice withsomeone outside of her classes. She falls back into regular Japanese, asks,“you take the class too?”

Shinichishakes his head. There’s a faint grin on his face, lips lifting up in a show ofamusement, as if he’s waiting for her to come up with some sort of theory. Ranraises an eyebrow, decides she’ll do no such thing and simply asks, “then how?”

If he’sdisappointed by the lack of deducing prowess, he doesn’t let it show. He simpleshrugs a shoulder and says, “my parents moved us abroad to the U.S. at thestart of middle school. It was necessary to get by, I guess.”

Rancan’t even imagine moving houses. She can’t imagine leaving behind her the homethat doubles as her father’s detective agency, can’t imagine what it would belike to leave Beika. Sure, she’s moved into the university dorms, halfwayacross Tokyo, but that’s different, she can always go home.

Movingto another town sounds like it’d bring too much anxiety. Moving to anothercountry? Another continent?

“Wow,”Ran mutters, “that’s terrifying.”

Hecontinues, mentioning about how he’d moved back to Japan in his final year ofhigh school, finishing his classes and trying to reintegrate himself with theJapanese culture. Maybe another time, she’ll ask him about the differences,culturally, but now doesn’t seem appropriate.

Hefinishes off his short explanation with a small huff. Ran isn’t sure whetherhe’s finally acknowledging her commentary, or whether he’s irritated himself bybringing it up, but either way, he’s smile tightens as if he doesn’t want tokeep talking about it.

SinceRan prides herself on being a good person, she decides that it’s for the bestthat she moves the conversation along, choosing a new subject. And speaking of subjects–

“So,”she starts, “if you don’t study English, then what do you study?”

He sendsher a grateful smile. “Criminology and forensic science. It’s all veryinteresting when the lecturers aren’t sending you on a wild chase from one campusto another.”

Rantakes a moment to empathise with having to chase around lectures, and then,lets out a very dignified huff of frustration. Criminology. It’s not something she’s ever enjoyed, and sincemaking her way to university, the dislike has only grown.

Orrather, maybe she has a bigger issue with criminologists.

Thedislike had bloomed last year, during her first semester in the university whenshe’d found herself thrown rather inexplicitly into a fling with a third-yearcriminologist. She’d been thrown more statistics on murder than she hadcompliments of the romantic kind, and she’d hardly been wooed, only likened to the various statistics he’d memorised.

Andthen, when he’d learned that her father ran his own detective… well, that hadopened a whole different can of worms that Ran doesn’t want to start on.

Shinichi’slips twist up at the sound of her disappointment. Ran blinks away confusion –past experiences have always bred some sort of irritation when she’d showncontempt at the subject.

“Not afan?”

Ran canquite honestly admit that no, she is not a fan.

Part ofher is relieved when Shinichi simply nods, doesn’t take her refusal to offense.

“That’llbe my task then,” he says finally, making her take the entire thought back. Shefeels a sigh rise in her throat but doesn’t breathe it out. Out of the cornerof her eyes, she can see the shuttle bus turning the corner, approaching thestop. There’s a shuffling around them, disgruntled students ready to board thebus. “I’ll make you reconsider.”

“I’m notparticularly interested in crime rates and statistics,” she says, the wordsbland. Then, because she doesn’t want to throw him off too much, make him thinkshe’s entirely horrible, she adds, “What would I even get out of this?”

Shinichipauses. He lifts his fingers up to his chin, holds them in a position thatseems almost like a pose but isn’t, somehow,as he thinks. His eyes are bright when he focuses on her. “I’ll get back to youon that.”

Ohgreat.

Studentsbustle around them – some heading off the bus, bumping into Ran and forcing herto not get caught up in the crowd, others heading onto it – and Ran doesn’teven have time to offer him a suave response, because he’s gone, hiddensomewhere on the bus.

Ranboards too, but even as she cranes her neck around, searching for his face, shecan’t see him. They’ve been effectively split apart by the other students, andRan’s too squished against others to see much at all.

Which isa shame, because she almost wishes she had taunted Shinichi a little bit, withhis task.

‘Have fun trying,’ she thinks.

[Part Two]

[notafightr]

It fic exchange!!!

so here's my reddie fic for @disneyfan567​ for the it fic exchange event! no trigger warnings, sorry for any mistakes or lack of skill this displays as i havent written in a long time and this is the first time ive written in this fandom

(°﹏°)

  Eddie was 13 when he moved to Ohio. Sonia decided she had had enough of Derry, and the small town was doing more harm than good to her delicate son. To describe Eddie's reaction, reluctant was an understatement. He was leaving his 6 best friends, his only real friends, all because of his mother's glorified temper tantrum.

  The past 3 years were (in)arguably the best years of his life. He met his best friends, more of a family than his own (which really just consisted of his overbearing mother), he had irreplaceable experiences and memories with his best friends, these friends entirely shaped and nurtured his character. So to have his mother rip all of that away from him, well it understandably upset him. Most of all, he didn't know how he was going to cope with the frequent flashbacks and nightmares that taxed him emotionally and mentally several times a week, dutifully owed to that short, albeit rather traumatic summer of 89’.

  For 3 long, yet oh so short years, Eddie coped with these strains through the support of his friends, especially a loudmouthed, annoying boy with Coke bottle glasses and slightly bucked teeth, named Richard Tozier, who couldn't find it in him to ever stop annoying Eddie, or stop telling him how much he loved him, or stop picking flowers for him on walks because he knew even though Eddie denied it, they really did make Eddie happier than he cared to admit.

  How do you cope with a demon clown terrorising you and your friends’ lives for an entire summer, haunting you as your worst fear, using unholy tactics to scare you in unimaginable ways, trapping you in its crack den, and almost killing you miles below land level, all at the ripe age of 10? Hopefully you found yourself down there with your 6 best friends. You also let your mind do the forgetting. Well, what it can. There's some things you can't forget.

  Until you leave Derry.

  Eddie started forgetting the moment the plane took off, whether he realized it or not. He managed to remember his friends for a short while, but vaguely. He didn't remember the poems Ben gave him every birthday, or that the friendship bracelet on his left wrist was made by thee Beverly Marsh. He didn't remember that the reason his room was always so tidy was because Stan Uris couldn't help himself every time they chose Eddie’s place as the hangout spot (when Sonia wasn't home of course), or all the scary stories Bill liked to tell at their weekly sleepovers at the ass crack of 3 am. He didn't remember how Jessica and Will Hanlon were by far the superior parents of the friend group and the snacks they so generously provided to said group were the best he ever had, no doubt that Mike directly inherited their kind and generous traits.

  When he woke up at the end of his plane ride, he didn't even remember that the lily flower in his hand was given to him as a parting gift by Richie, whose parents picked him up from the airport after he gave one last hug goodbye at the gate and waved Eddie off with flower in hand. Even after intently looking down, confused, and finally remembering it was indeed Richie who gave him the flower, he still didn't remember Richie’s endearing flower giving habit.

  He promised them he'd stay in touch, but it wasn't long before the initials BH, BM, SU, BD, MH, and RT were just meaningless letters next to a series of unknown house phone numbers.

  It wasn't until he forgot one particular conversation with Bill during a sleepover one night in 6th grade that he forgot Richie completely.

  “Bill?” Eddie whispered, lying down in Bill’s bed, not even sure if Bill was awake.

  “Y-yeah?” Bill replied after some silence.

  “So, we're best friends right?”

  “Well y-yeah, I m-mean all-” Bill started before being interrupted.

  “No I mean like, I know the seven of us are best friends obviously, but I mean, we’re best-best friends, you know what I mean? Like even before the lucky seven it's always been us right?”

  “Oh. Yeah I s-suppose.” Bill reassured him.

  It took Eddie a second to try and gather his thoughts and articulate what he was trying to say.

  “Well, I feel like, Richie’s different from all of you.”

  “Yeah n-no sh-shit Eddie, that k-kid can't k-keep his mou-” Bill was again interrupted.

  “No, that's not what I mean. I mean,” Eddie again had to organize his thoughts in his head, which proved to be difficult when not even he knew what he was thinking. “I mean I feel different with him. Like when he gives me flowers and stuff, and he's the only one that calls me Eds. But I know you're my best friend. My best-best friend. Am I wrong? Maybe Richie is my best-best friend?” At this point it felt like Eddie was just saying it out loud for himself.

  After a few seconds, which felt like several minutes to Eddie, Bill giggled.

  “What?” Eddie asked, almost panicked.

  While Bill didn't necessarily believe this, the thought amused him greatly. “It s-sounds like you have a c-cr-crush on h-him.”

  “Wh-... you th-” Eddie just about got whiplash from Bill’s statement. “You think I have a crush on him?!”

  “I n-never said that… I j-just said it s-sounds like you do.”

  “I'm not… I don't like boys like that. My mom told me what it means if you do and what happens, and I don't think I do,” he backtracked.

  At this point, Bill was almost asleep. “Okay Eddie, that's fine,”

  “I think maybe you're just both my best friends,” Eddie assured, but undoubtedly he said this more for himself than for Bill. Bill probably succumbed to slumber before Eddie could even start.

  Once any evidence of this conversation having occurred left his brain, any trace of Richie was buried deep under newer things. The others were already long gone. The nightly nightmares he experience fizzled out eventually, but they did resurface every once in a while. On the other side of the same coin however, he did have dreams about the good times with the losers. He never remembered them when he woke up, though.

  Not to mention, he was frequently frustrated at his lack of motivation to clean his room properly, wondering why his always clean room in Derry suddenly had no place in his new life in Ohio. Where's a Stan Uris when you need him?

  He tried to make friends. For a bit he was even in a nice friend group of people he clicked fairly well with, they were funny and kind and they welcomed him with open arms. But nothing felt right. They were funny, but it hurt to laugh at their jokes, they were nice, but almost too nice. If anyone so much as cracked a your mom joke, Eddie's first thought was an annoyed “Stop trying to be-” but always stopped short right there.

  Stop trying to be who?

  He didn't know. He didn't remember.

  So at the end of his sophomore year, when he asked his mom to sign his permission form for the classes he wanted to take the upcoming school year, his mom declined.

  “Eddie Bear, we're moving back to Derry this summer.” Sonia said apologetically, understanding he'll have to say goodbye to the friends he doesn't have.

  “Wait, what?” confused was an understatement. He had to rack his brain for a moment to even remember what “Derry” meant.

  “It’s getting difficult for me to support us financially here, so we're moving back near your Aunt Jodie and she's going to help us a little bit. We should start packing no later than the end of May, we’ll be out of the house and into the new one at the beginning of July in time for you to to get settled and start school at Derry High.”

  Eddie had never felt more indifferent in his whole entire life, while also feeling an inkling of hope he didn't quite understand. If anything, his biggest curiosity was why he didn't feel even a whisper of sadness for leaving the people he knew in Marietta, Ohio. While Eddie didn't care about moving back to Derry, and it meant almost nothing to him on the surface, the Eds inside of Eddie couldn't help peeking through.

  So they moved back. Eddie finished packing up his belongings before the deadline his mother gave to start packing had even passed, and he didn't bother telling any of his “friends” (perhaps acquaintances is a more applicable word) that he was leaving because the truth was, it was more trouble than it was worth. They would no doubt care more than twice as much as he did, so he left without so much of a trace of a goodbye.

  Now that Eddie was 16, he could drive. While Sonia wouldn't buy Eddie his own car, not over her dead body, she did allow him to use hers when it was available, and given her physical state and social life, it was almost always available. After a solid 8 hours of unpacking his things in his new, snug room on an otherwise uneventful July evening, he picked up his mom's keys.

  “Bye Mom!” he shouted loud enough for his mom to hear without bothering to hear her response as he shut the door.

  He shoved the key in ignition. Despite not having been in town for 3 years, he was still able to navigate the area without assistance. He drove to the coffee shop that he had vague memories of visiting during middle school winters for hot chocolate with some friends whose faces he couldn't quite remember yet.

  Walking in it didn't look much different. Not that Derry would care enough to update the coffee shop, or any shop for that matter, for any reason.

  “Hi, how can I help you?” a blonde girl at the register asked uninterestedly.

  She definitely hates her job, Eddie thought while pointlessly perusing the menu, already knowing what he planned to order. Sophomore year was not academically kind to Eddie, and a caffeine addiction to compensate for the mass amount of all nighters pulled did occur.

  “Can I just have a black coffee with sugar?” he asked while digging through his tattered black wallet he received as a birthday gift in seventh grade. He then flinched his head up in response to hearing another employee drop an entire pitcher of coffee on the floor.

  “Oh, fuck,” said worker pointedly exclaimed, which not only stirred a giggle out of Eddie, but his voice in combination with his oddly familiar black curly hair caused his heart drop, though completely lost as to why.

  “Your name?”

  “Hello?” She asked after a moment.

  “Hello!” the blonde girl repeatedly nagged, trying to catch Eddie’s lost attention.

  “What? Sorry I missed that,” Eddie finally grounded himself. Unfortunately his attempt to catch the other employees face failed as he stayed turned away and then hurried to his hands and knees on the floor.

  “I need your name for your order.”

  “Oh yeah of course, Eddie.” Not even seconds after his response, he heard something nearly inaudible, completely not understandable from the employee on the floor, which was confirmed by the blonde girl, which Eddie now gathered from her name tag to be Sarah, who exasperatedly asked about the other employee’s struggle.

  “You alright down there?”

  “Yeah, I’m just peachy, Sarah,” hearing the voice even clearer instilled a visceral reaction even stronger in Eddie once again.

  Sarah took Eddie’s cash, distributed his change, and set his cup down on the back counter for when the other employee to make when he was done cleaning up his mess. He picked a seat close by the counter and waited. After a few minutes, longer than probably usual, given time dedicated to cleaning up the coffee on the floor, Eddie heard his name called by the same antagonist and saw his coffee set on the counter, but employee was again out of sight. Eddie grabbed the coffee and with no reason to stay he made his way back to the car.

  Drinking his iced coffee on his way home, at a stop light he picked up his drink and studied it curiously. He noticed the boy who made his drink must have added his name for some reason because when Sarah set it down for him to make, there was nothing written on it. However, clearly on the cup, was his name:

  While looking at the little flower next to his name made him smile, it was a cute gesture, it filled him with a familiar sense of longing and loneliness, as if he was missing something. He got home, finished his coffee, continued unpacking, dreadfully argued with his mom about leaving the house without telling her where he was going, and went to sleep. It was less of a need for caffeine but more of an eagerness to learn about a curly headed, clumsy employee that brought him back to the coffee shop the next day.

  So he came back. He came back at the same time too, to have his best chance of the boy being on shift.

  “How can I help you?” Sarah asked.

  “Black coffee with sugar, Eddie.” successfully staying on track with Sarah this time around.

  Again, she set the blank cup on the counter and just like before, his name with a dainty doodle of a flower beside it. Unfortunately, even if he wanted to say anything to the employee which Eddie now knew wears a big pair of glasses, his introverted nature wouldn't allow it. Back to home it was, to continue setting up his new room.

  The next couple of weeks was the same routine, and quite lonely. Being in the middle of summer, with no school to be his vessel of socializing, and no friends, it was him, his lonely self, and his mom. For all intents and purposes, him and his lonely self.

  However one morning, in a hurry as he had a family gathering for brunch to attend to, he knew he wouldn't be able to get to the coffee shop in the evening so he came in the morning, despite knowing the shift would likely not be the same.

  He walked in and noticed it was in fact not Sarah at the register but didn't look further.

  “How can I help you?” The boy at the register was looking down.

  “Just a black coffee and sugar. Eddie.” He got the cash from his wallet and told the boy he could keep the change as he was already late to his aunt's house and confident he could do without the dollar and 74 cents. As he walked to the counter to get his coffee as soon as it was ready, he noticed the boy scribbling his name and a flower on the cup but his brain didn't process anything other than how late he was. He took his coffee eagerly and made his way back to his car, knowing his mom (who was already there after being picked up by her sister) was no stranger to yelling at Eddie for “caring more about himself than his family”.

  On the drive to his house he allowed himself time to think and thought about the boy at the register. He was familiar to Eddie and not just because he's seen him every day for two weeks, making his regular order with ease.

  The Coke bottle glasses.

  The flower.

  The unkempt, black, curly hair.

  But that was still too out of reach for him. He thought about it for as long as he could without having an aneurysm from working his brain too hard and decided he would come back the next morning for the same shift.

  Sonia greeted Eddie outside before he was able to come inside.

 “Eddie bear, why are you so late?”

  “Sorry ma, I was up late finishing my summer assignment and I stopped to get coffee when I left,” Eddie started despite knowing this wouldn't be enough to appease his mom.

  “Aunt Jodie is being very kind to help us out and this is the first time seeing family since we've gotten back, you should show your gratitude properly. Say thank you when we come in.”

  “I will, Ma. Why didn't you just wake me up and take the car here?”

  “Aunt Jodie wanted to catch up with me before everyone else got here. She took us to breakfast. I figured you'd have enough autonomy to drive yourself here on time. Are you feeling well? Did you sleep enough?”

  “Yes, ma!” Eddie spoke as he got out of the car and locked it, handing the keys to his mom. “I just overslept. Sorry for being late.”

  However, while his cousins and aunts and uncles were asking him how Ohio was and if he was sad to leave his friends and if he left a broken hearted girlfriend back in Marietta, all he could think about was the coffee shop employee who never failed to doodle a flower next to his name.

  He got home late, worked on his summer assignment, because against what he told his mom, he had in fact not started yet. He made sure to wake up at the same time as the morning before and headed to the coffee shop. To his pleasure, the boy was at the register.

  “How can I help you?”

  Eddie stared at him.

  “Uh,” He couldn't help but chortle as Eddie stared, wordlessly, and then it appeared as though a freight train of memories hit him square in the head.

  “Oh my God,” Eddie nearly dropped to the floor. “Richie? Richie fucking Tozier? Is this a joke?”

  “Ya know Eds, I was starting to think you really forgot me. Or maybe you just hated me.” Richie allowed himself to laugh.

  “I… I did forget you? But how? We-” and at that moment Richie could visibly see It creep itself back into Eddie’s memories.

  “Holy shit? You forgot about that too? Do you have amnesia? What happened to that pretty little head of yours?” Richie put his hand on Eddie's forehead and pretended to feel his temperature.

  “Oh my God,” whiplash had struck Eddie again. “I need to sit down,” He started to move to a chair nearby when he remembered more. “The others! Beverly, and Ben, and Stan and Bill and Mike!” he quite literally felt like someone waking up from a 20 year coma, rediscovering everything that happened before he fell asleep.

  “They're peachy. Stan's actually getting back from visiting his family in Florida today.” Richie informed him. “Any reason you never stayed in touch like you said you would? Left a man hanging.”

  “It's like, wait- those initials were yours!” Suddenly three years of wondering who those house numbers in his binder belonged to clicked. “It’s like I forgot you guys as soon as I left,”

  “That soon? Ed's, you wound me,” Richie teased. “But you're still wearing the friendship bracelet Bev made.” He held out his wrist and displayed a bracelet of the same pattern but in different colors. “What’s she got that I don't?”

  For the first time in 3 years, Eddie let out a genuine laugh.

  “Are you busy, cutie? I'm on break in 15 minutes and I can get someone to cover the rest of my shift,” Richie asked, hopeful.

  “Yeah that's fine.. uh.. have you been working every day? All day?” Eddie asked, concerned.

  “Well the past couple of weeks at least a couple of us from the gang has been visiting family or doin’ some crazy shit so I figured I'd make use of time and make some money, we're doing a road trip in a couple of weeks.”

  “Oh that's cool-”

  “You're invited, if you want, obviously. What better way to celebrate you coming back than a road trip? Ed's, just wait till’ they find out you're back-” Richie cut himself off when he noticed another man walk into the shop and they both decided to end the conversation there so he could order. “Okay hold on I'm gonna take his order, and I'll be out in 10 minutes, you can wait here if you want?”

  “Sounds good,” Eddie couldn't help the smile on his face, it's contagiousness showing in Richie's smile.

  After waiting for a bit, Richie came from the back out of his uniform, a bag on his shoulder, and a rose in his hand. He held it out to Eddie.

  “Do you just, carry flowers with you?” Eddie looked at him curiously.

  “No but I- after I saw you yesterday morning and I passed this one on my way to work, something told me I should grab it.” Eddie took it. “Flowers still get ya goin’?” Eddie punched him in the shoulder.

  “Thanks, Rich.” He smiled.

  “Where to now, spaghetti?” Richie put his arm around Eddie.

  “For 3 glorious years I never had to hear that, don't call me spaghetti!”

  “Okay Eds, answer the question!”

[rreadsdaily]

This week for #GetToKnowTheRosendeReaders, we meet Alberto!

I had the lucky chance to sit down with Alberto at #ITAInstituteCon3 last July and to ask him a few questions about his personal reading experience and about RosendeReads!  

Let’s start with the first question: how did you get into reading? Was it something that has always been with you as a child or would you say it’s more of a passion you discovered yourself? A: I think it’s both, in a way. I know that when I was younger my dad always had a book in his hands and then my mom is actually… I don’t know if she considers herself a reader, but she’s always reading a book. So both of my parents, whether or not they consider themselves avid readers, were always reading. I know that in high school I feel like I didn’t read as much as I should’ve, especially when it came to taking tests on books… I didn’t do that. I was very lazy when it came to that. And then I had one teacher at the end of high school, in my last two years, and she was just an incredible, great teacher and specifically in the way she talked literature and that helped me realize that I love books and that I wanna keep reading.

Do you usually set up a reading challenge for yourself? A: No, I don’t like putting any pressure on myself to read. And that’s one of the challenges of the book club: It does put pressure on me to read. I like when it’s more casual and then I happen to finish the book. But I feel like with books that you really like you never really have to challenge yourself, you end up just reading them all. But with the book club, because we do a bunch of different types of books and authors… there are some books that I’m like “I thought I would’ve enjoyed this book a little more” or “I thought I’d have gotten into it faster” so it is taxing but yeah, I try not to [challenge myself]

Is there a particular moment in which you realized you wanted to put together a book club? A: Not a particular moment but I remember I talked about it to Tessa and I mentioned it before to my parents like “You know, I wanna start a book club” and then the idea kinda grew and I’m kinda of impulsive so I was like if I don’t do it today, I’m not doing it. So I was like “How would it work? It would work like this. We would do this, this and this” and I was like I’m just doing it and hopefully I can… like Tessa wrote on my birthday card one year this Kurt Vonnegut’s quote that said “I believe that our job is to continually jump off cliffs and try to build our wings on the way down” and I think that’s kinda of what the book club was.

I also remember when you talked about the book club for the first time, you were here in Milan two years ago and you were like “I’m going to create a book club” and I was like “I don’t think he’s really gonna do that” and a month later you were like “Listen, this is what we’re gonna do. This is how it’s gonna work” A: Yeah! So it was like kinda of a process but when it came time I was like… It’s happening today! What’s the thing you love the most about RosendeReads? A: The community and the books we read together but mostly, the conversations we have. That’s my favorite thing cause it involves the community and it involves the books but it’s really what we find in the middle. That’s my favorite thing, yeah. Do you have a favorite and least favorite book we read? A: Favorite book? It’s always changing but “Song of Solomon”, I loved it. Least favorite… maybe like “Diary of Anne Frank”

Not Catch-22? A: Mh, no! I actually started to enjoy “Catch-22” although it was a hard book to read in one setting. But what was the other one… maybe “Into the Wild”, I found difficult to read too because at first I thought it was gonna be a different book because of the film. I admire McCandless more in the movie than I did in the book. I feel like in the movie they really romanticized his passions and the book talks about that but because it shows a lot of both sides I started to feel like this kid is really selfish, in a way, until it was too late… 

Right?! Selfish and ungrateful A: Ungrateful, yeah! That would be a good word. But then again, I do believe the movie may have captured his essence a little bit better in a sense that he obviously didn’t find himself to be ungrateful, he was just obsessed with the status-quo and didn’t want to live by any rules but his own and he was really willing to go that far to do it and to search something bigger than himself, which is cool. But yeah, least favorite one.

Is there a genre you think we would never read? A: Anything written by Donald Trump because I don’t think it’s written by him… But I’d say maybe we would read something written by Donald Trump, one of those books he did write cause maybe we wanna see what he thinks but at the same time I think that’s stupid.

Yeah and I think it would make us more angry A: Exactly. And I don’t wanna give him any more money or anything, so probably not

I think you once mentioned a book about Donald Trump? Like “Fear”? A: Yeah, “Fear: Trump in the White House” by Bob Woodward. I was reading that, I’m almost done with that but yeah, I don’t think I’d read that one with everyone because I believe political opinions should stay, you know, to myself.  I don’t know if there’s a genre we wouldn’t read because I don’t wanna say “You can’t read those books”, cause it goes against everything we believe in.

How do you see this book club growing? Like I remember you mentioned once merchandise and a fundraising? A: Yeah and I was looking into it and it gets difficult with settling it and I don’t want anyone to think that I’m ever taking money from it. I do eventually wanna have it growing into something we eventually can… my mom and I were actually talking about this. We are both always on the look out for ways to expand and how we can start to grow our community to help. That’s what the goal is: to take our RosendeReads community and help the community outside. I want us to become an active book club, in terms of service.

If you could describe to a newbie what RosendeReads represents in order to convince them to join, what would you say? A: It’s the sharing of ideas through one common thing, which you can find when someone studies in University or is in a class: it’s a sharing of ideas and growth through one communality, whether it is the course you’re taking or the subject matter you’re currently reading. And RosendeReads is an extension of that, it’s us reading one book and like what I said my favorite thing is, it’s the conversation in between about that book with the people from all over the world that you get to grow and learn. So yeah, I’d be like… just why wouldn’t you?!

Last question: a message you would like to send to the members of the book club? A: Keep reading, keep exploring, keep being curious and keep being positive forces of change in your communities cause that’s what we’re about.

A massive thank you to Alberto for his time and for the fun and inspiring conversation. You can find Alberto’s official book club account on Instagram: @RosendeReads, make sure to give it a follow and stay tuned for all the latest news about the book club!

[kingofthewilderwest]

Heyo, Haddock! I'm a linguistics student, fluent in French, and I'm studying German. I'm looking into freelance translating as a job, but so far it's pretty overwhelming - do you have any suggestions or tips on how to get a jump on that? How do you find work as a freelance linguist?

Hey there, linguist! That’s really cool, and I wish you the best as you start exploring freelance translation as possible work.

Admittedly I’ve never done translation as a job. I briefly considered it once, but never applied to any jobs there. I subsist 100% off linguistics commission work, but it’s all in theoretical linguistics, mainly along the semantics-pragmatics interface (just finished a fun project related to phonology-morphology shenanigans though). I implement theoretical linguistics knowledge by annotating large corpora of data (usually a database of many sentences) with pertinent linguistics information. At times I help modify an annotation system to be better, too. I then send my annotated data to another team, where they do computational work to develop language-related technology: for instance, using semantic information to improve a computer’s algorithm for returning relevant search results, or helping an AI interact better with humans in back-and-forth conversation. There’s limitations to how much I can explain because of nondisclosure contractual agreements. However, I can say I like to joke with my friends that, when the sentient robot revolution happens, you technically could pin part of the blame on me. I don’t do any computation stuff teaching computers to be smart, but I do feed theoretical information to a computational team.

So…. all that said! I’m happy to talk about things I’ve learned to make my freelance life sustainable. Hopefully that can help you find a groove for your own freelance journey! However, I’ve seen that translation jobs tend to run differently than what I do. You will certainly have different experiences than I do, because the translation world has is own quirks and system. But maybe some of this is applicable, and I wish you the absolute best with sorting out stuff that feels overwhelming now.

What makes my freelancing work work is that I’m re-employed by the same people and companies consistently. I’ve been doing annotation linguistics work on several projects for my alma mater university since 2012. In the public sector, there’s one company in particular I have consistent interactions with. For that one, hiring directors have my resume on file in the company’s database of possible contractors. Those hiring directors and project managers who’ve worked with me in the past tend to come back and email me with new opportunities later. What started as me tossing out a bunch of resumes and applications has turned around; now I’m at the point that I almost never look for a new contract, but get emails asking me if I’m available for a new gig. Free new job offer in the inbox! There have been times I’ve had to turn some down, too! Two to three contracts going on at the same time is more than enough volume to handle, and any more than that is ridiculous and unsustainable. I tend to prioritize the longest-running projects, while picking up a few smaller tasks from new project managers to build connections for future networking purposes.

Actually, one of the main companies I work contracts with, Appen, also hires translators for basically EVERY language internationally - so you could check them out if you’d like! You could be qualified to do some gigs with them! Once you submit an application for one job, your information is on store for the company to use for future gigs. However, an idle resume probably isn’t going to do much over time. I recommend re-submitting your application for new jobs - it shows volition, availability, and helps your name get pulled to their attention. I’ll admit that my first few applications didn’t catch any fish; it wasn’t until I name-dropped (one of the university professors I worked for) that I ended up receiving responses from the hiring managers and project leads.

If you do end up doing contract work in a system like Appen’s, I encourage you to be very careful. With freelance linguistics or translations, there’s many gigs that underpay workers or have paying practices that might not secure semi-stable income. You and I don’t live in the same country, so this isn’t going to be the same, but there’s healthcare and tax stuff I have to keep an eye on, too. Honestly, one of the reasons I decided not to pursue the possibility of remote work translating… was that many available translation jobs offered in my area… made me raise my eyebrows. Some sketchy stuff is out there. Sure. Some was GREAT work. Full-time salaried position working as a civilian in a military base? Those looked like solid gigs. Other common translation work is remote translating through a translation-oriented company, where you’d have consistent work and could be a freelancer, not in short-term projects like I get, but being an ongoing member translator. But some translation companies I saw lots of negative reviews for regarding payment practices and how they treated employees as replaceable; seems like you had to be a project manager overseeing translation quality to have a good gig (I did have one old linguistics classmate get that position). I also always was nervous about the idea that some translation companies seemed to pay you per word for what documents you translated (what if you only got short messages that month? maybe workflow is steady(?), but that sounded nerve-wracking to me on the outsider’s perspective - same type of scary as people in sales being paid based on how much they sell). The work I do is paid per hour - not salaried - but at least “per hour” can be more stable and flexible with what you do. 

So yeah. I don’t know if this makes your job searching more or less overwhelming, but be careful. Sometimes job-wise in life we have to start with “anything,” but “anything” won’t get good money or mental rest, and there’s times to say “no” to “anything”. There is fair work too, though.

Note that some of my comments on the translation field maaaay be inaccurate, given as it’s been a while since I’ve looked at that, and some of my observations will be based upon where I live versus you. I don’t want to feed unintentionally bad information, so everything I say on the field should be taken with a good grain of salt.

I haven’t had problems with my work, in part because I’ve figured out the payment bargain game. Every time a new gig asks what I’d like to be paid, I increase the price amount slightly. They usually agree. I feel like, as far as hourly contract work is concerned, I’m not being paid jack shit or being taken advantage of so much, and I am more than happy to spend my work week in my pajamas at home listening to metal music in the background, choosing my hours - even if it’s freaking 2 AM. Salaried positions pay more of course, and would be “fairer” considering my education level, but I’m still well over minimum wage. I’ll take it. Once I get mental health issues worked out (they’re capping my ability to work the number of hours a week I need), I’ll be making decent yearly income. There’s the constant terror of not getting new gigs, though, which comes with companies making me only a part-time contractor… but in your translation, that shouldn’t be any issue. There’s going to be freelance translation you can do within one translation company and chill there as long as you like. You won’t have to keep reapplying to new gigs if you settle in with some translation company.

One thing I suspect you might have to do, though, especially to get decent gigs, is get translation certification. I haven’t looked into it, though I remember seeing the word floated around. Maybe you know this already though. XD You would have looked more into the field than me!

I’m wishing you the very best with starting a freelance translation journey, and you rock for being a linguist. I wish I could have been more helpful! I’d be interested to hear any experiences you have or end up having, if you ever want to share! Languages for the win!

[bgn846]

Wrong Number - A FFXV Fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446100  In case you don’t want to read via Tumblr.

Hearing a strange noise Noct sat up straighter on the sofa and paused the video game he was playing.  Then he heard it again, a shrill ringing sound coming from the kitchen.  Debating about whether to ignore it or not he finally put down the game controller and got up to investigate.

At first thinking that Ignis had left a timer going Noct was surprised to discover the horrid ringing was coming from a phone secured to the wall.

A real phone.

One with a curly cord coming out of it and everything, the prince had assumed this piece of molded plastic was merely part of the decoration.  It had never been used to his knowledge, no one had the number.  It was for emergencies or something of that nature.

He would later regret his decision but on a whim he picked up the handle and said ‘hello’.

A brisk male voice answered him back. “Sir, this is the Insomnian Internal Revenue Service calling to alert you that there is a warrant out for your arrest due to unpaid taxes.  If you wish to avoid immediate jail time we will need you to provide payment right now.  The authorities have already been alerted and are on their way.”

Noct was at a loss for words.  What the hell was happening?  “How did you get this number?” He quickly asked trying to buy time.

“Sir your arrest warrant had all of the contact details.  Are you able to find a form of payment right now?”

“You don’t have an arrest warrant.” Noct chided quickly.

“Sir this is serious, if you are unable to provide payment right now over the phone I won’t be able to cancel the warrant.”

There had to be a mistake.  Did he even pay taxes, he was the government!   Surely Ignis would have gotten wind of something this egregious way before he got a phone call about it.  

“Sir are you still there?” The man questioned.

“Uh – hold on.” Noct stammered.  He needed to distract the man so he could call Ignis on his cell phone.

“The best way to settle the balance is to give us your bank account routing number.”

“Let me grab my wallet can you hold on?” he tried again hoping the guy would give him a minute.

“Certainly, we suggest you hurry sir, the authorities have been called.”

“Yeah you mentioned that already.”  Noct retorted as he started frantically searching for his phone.  Shit. Where the hell was it?  Gods it was still on the sofa!  Without thinking he ran back into the living room and yelled when the kitchen phone violently yanked out of his hand.  Stupid cord, who ever thought that was a good design decision should be shot!

Stricken with indecision Noct straddled the entrance to the kitchen trying to figure out if he should pick up the phone or grab his cell first.  Hearing a faint voice on the telephone receiver as it rocked on the tile floor of the kitchen kicked his brain into gear and he ran into the living room for his cellphone.

Scrambling back a moment later he scooped the phone up off the floor and hoped the guy would still be there. “Hello, you there? Sorry I dropped the phone.”

“Of course sir, do you have the bank routing information?”  He questioned.

Ok this was complicated what hell was that? He asked the guy to hold on again and he quickly tried calling Ignis on his cell.  It rang five times and went to voice mail.  Damn it!  He immediately called again but the same thing happened.  

Shooting off a text instead requesting Ignis call him right away he tried Gladio next.  He would know if they were coming to arrest him.  He was part of the crownsguard!

Gladio’s cell phone didn’t even ring, it went straight to voicemail. What the hell what were his advisor and shield doing?  He needed them!

“Sir?” The man on the phone asked again with a hint of irritation.

“Yeah I’m here.  What?”

“The routing number sir did you find it?”

“Can you tell me where it is?”

“It will be on the bottom left of a check, sir.”

A check – did Noct even have access to a check.  Did he pay bills?   Maybe that was way the IIRS was after him.  “Ahhh what does a check look like?”

The man on the other end of the line sighed heavily and Noct was sure if he was there in person it would have included an eye roll.  “It would be a slip of paper from your checkbook sir.”

“Ok. Let me check.” Noct went to try Ignis again and noticed he had a text from the advisor.  It was useless.  ‘I’m working late like we discussed, I have no indication of an emergency at your apartment.  Please confirm you are alright.’  

Sighing he wrote back. ‘I’m safe for now but the IIRS is after me the cops are coming right now!’  Then he tried calling Gladio again.  Nothing.  

He got a text back almost immediately.  ‘As I have stated there are no alerts associated with your apartment.  Please let me get back to work.’

Six! Ignis wasn’t going to help him, Gladio was busy.  He had no choice left but to turn to Prompto.  The man from the phone suddenly distracted him again by asking if he was still there.

“Huh?”

“Sir did you have any luck finding a check?”

“Um still looking, give me a minute.”

Texting Prompto quickly he told his best friend he was being arrested soon unless he could find a check.  Trying to sound busy he started banging things around in the kitchen so the guy on the phone would think he was looking for this check.

“Sir if you are unable to find a check we can also take credit card.” The man offered after a minute.

Oh.  Noct knew he had that!  “What kind of credit card?”

“Any of them sir, go ahead and give me the number.”

Patting his pockets Noct realized his wallet was in the other room.   Not again! He put the phone down on the counter this time as he ran into the living room.  Coming back he sighed relieved that this would hopefully solve the problem.

“Uh I have my wallet right here let me see which card to use.”  He responded as he began rifling through the personal item.  Where was his card?  Suddenly a memory came flooding back to him. Ignis telling him the card was expiring and that the need to get him a new one.   So that meant no card either.  He was so screwed.

Desperation was taking over at this point and his cellphone ringing made him pause.  It was Prompto!  He answered while trying to balance the kitchen phone in-between his neck and ear.    

“Buddy, I need help!” He whispered into his cell.

“Noct, are you on the phone with someone?”

“Yeah the IIRS, I need help --.”

Prompto cut him off and practically yelled.  “Just hang up the phone Noct it’s a scam!”

“But they said they have an arrest warrant out for me!”

“Noct!  Hang up the godsdamned phone!” His friend shouted again.

The man from the IIRS spoke up once more. “Sir if you are unable to pay the taxes owed on this account associated with phone number 45-59752 I will have no choice but to request the authorities arrest you on site.”

Noct almost dropped the phone when the man finished. Right there in front of him taped to the phone and written in Ignis’ perfect script was the number for the kitchen phone.  It didn’t match.  They had called the wrong number!

He slammed the phone down on the receiver so hard it sounded like it cracked.

“NOCT!” Prompto yelled. “Are you still there? Did you hang up?”

“Huh --  Yeah I’m here.  That was a close call, they had the wrong number.”

“Dude, it’s a scam!  Wrong number or not!  You didn’t give them any information did you?” He asked worriedly.

“No, I couldn’t find any checks and I didn’t have my credit card on me.”  He answered with a sigh.

“Oh Emm Gee Noct, please promise me you will never give out information like that over the phone.  The IIRS doesn’t call they only send letters.”  

“Ok.  Are you sure it was a scam, they said --.”

Prompto interjected again. “That they were coming to arrest you and the only way to make it stop was to give them money.”

“Yeah!  How did you know?”

“Because it’s a scam I get those calls all the time. No one ever shows up to arrest me.  Trust me buddy.  Just relax and enjoy your evening.”

“Fine.” The prince huffed. “But it was scary.”

“It’s meant to be, just get some rest and forget about it.”

The call ended and Noct took a deep breath trying to calm his nerves.  He was never going to touch that phone again let alone answer it.

Ignis’ phone rang a few hours after his text messages from Noct.  It was Gladio and since he had just finished with work he picked up.

“Hey I missed a call from Noct, everything okay?  I was relaxing at home with a good book and didn’t realize my phone had died.”

“As far as I know, he called and texted me earlier about the IIRS being after him.  I don’t know what kind of video games he was playing tonight but I think they are doing more harm than good.”

“But you talked to him and he was ok?”

“I texted and he told me he was alright.  He thought he was getting arrested but I knew that was untrue.” Ignis paused for a moment. “Do you think his lack of vegetables is negatively affecting his brain?”

Gladio laughed. “Nah, he’s just Noct.  Drop me a text after you check on him tonight.  It’ll make me feel better to know he’s really alright.”

“Certainly, I’m on my way over there right now.” 

The apartment was dark when Ignis used his key in the front door.   The place was absolutely devoid of any sound.  He was starting to get worried and called out to Noct once he shuffled into the living room.

Suddenly there was movement in the dark space, a lump on the sofa had moved.  “Iggy?”  The voice was muffled but it was Noct.

Flicking on the light switch Ignis could see a flash of midnight black hair sticking out from a pile of blankets on the sofa.  “Noct are you alright?”

“The IIRS weren’t waiting outside were they?”

Sighing and rolling his eyes Ignis answered. “Highness, the IIRS sends letters they do not make house calls.”  

The prince responded by groaning loudly and retreating further into the blanket cocoon.  “So I’m safe?”

“Noct, of course you are.  I told you I checked when we texted earlier.  I won’t let the IIRS get you.”

“Thanks Specs.” He mumbled.  “Um do you think you could stay the night just in case?”

Ignis knew he would lose this battle if he tried to leave.  Why not have a movie marathon and try to get Noct’s mind off the IIRS.  Maybe he could get him to eat a carrot while he was recovering!

[philsdrill]

Chapter 22: Our Blue and Green Duvet

Fic Summary: “Everyone had a link with their soulmates, some could hear some of their partners thoughts, some had a tattoo that would appear with their partners name; for me, I knew when they got sick.” For a while Phil has thought that his soulmate might have an eating disorder and doesn’t expect to meet him in the restaurant where he works.

Genre: a lot of fluff, recovery, really fucking domestic, waiter!Phil

Warnings: eating disorders, anorexia, bulimia, hospitals, panic attacks, references to past abuse, mentions of suicide, mentions of self-harm, a lot of awkwardness, small amounts of smut. This is potentially triggering so for your own sake, please think twice about reading if anything this might affect you.

Disclaimer: I don’t have personal experience with eating disorders, but have done some research. If I have anything about them wrong, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll sort it out.

Word Count (for this part): 7.1k

[Uploads will be approximately every couple of weeks! (hopefully)]

A/N: I wrote more than half of this right after I posted the last chapter, but of course finishing it still took me three weeks. I was busy being outside in Spain week and now I have a cold. Who gets a cold in like 34*C heat? So a couple of things have put it off, but hopefully its worth the wait. I may have added a spontaneous blowjob to this chapter, which was never part of the plan. Then, do I ever stick to the plan - Someday was only planned to be 7 chapters!

MASTERPOST

<= Previous Chapter

Dan’s POV:

The next day, Ethan came over again. His mum brought him in the car and he’d texted so I could meet him at the door. She didn’t want him out of the presence of a responsible adult since his suicide attempts. I wouldn’t say I completely counted as a responsible adult, being only a few years older than him, but he wasn’t being left alone and that was what mattered.

He arrived just after lunchtime and left before dinner, telling us that it was his family’s ‘family takeaway night’ and he needed to be home. Phil and I didn’t see much of him over the course of the afternoon, him and Adam talking quietly in the other room while Phil and I did some not-so-interesting finances management.

Taxes and doing complicated things with money were always things we put off for relaxing or cuddling, or slightly more intimate bedroom activities. However we’d had plenty of relaxation time recently and nothing was happening on the sex front until we had the flat to ourselves again, so we took the opportunity to finally start sorting our lives out.

It was scary business that, seeing as Phil and I didn’t exactly have our lives together. His job of working shifts as a waiter wasn’t enough to pay for both of us. At least we owned the flat, rather than having to rent, but that meant our savings were on the low end and we were slowly eating into them to compensate from my minimal income.

I knew I needed to get a job, but Phil was trying to make sure I didn’t go head first into something I wasn’t ready for. It seemed like every time I thought about looking, my mental health would throw itself back in my face and remind me how hard it would actually be.

I’d got myself into a bit of a vicious circle, feeling really anxious about getting a job, but also feeling really anxious about our finances. It didn’t take long for Phil to notice that I was pulling my hair out over this and set his laptop to the side, shutting mine over too and then lifting it off my lap.

“You’re stressed,” Phil said, softly, “I hate to see you like this. C’mon, what’s bothering you?”

I explained to Phil how I was just anxious about jobs and money again. I’d talked to him about it before and he knew what my problem was. He put an arm around me, cuddled up next to me and didn’t settle down until I was in his arms.

“Dan, honestly, we’re doing okay. You don’t have anything to worry about,” Phil told me, trying to be reassuring.

“We’re not, Phil,” I said, raising my voice maybe a little more than I should have. “We’re not doing okay. We’re literally using our savings to pay the bills and that’s not how it should be. I’m a failure; you probably wish you didn’t have to deal with me.”

“Dan,” Phil said, softly resting his hand over my heart, “Okay, maybe we’re not as financially stable as we should be, but we’re not going to be going bankrupt anytime soon. If we kept going like this forever, yes, we would be, but that’s not going to happen. I’m going to get a better job at some point; I’m only keeping this one at the moment as the flexible working days are handy. I understand that you should get a job too, but wait until you’re ready, okay.”

“Maybe I am,” I lied, my heart starting to beat faster with nerves, “I might start looking soon.”

“Dan, you’re not,” Phil said, firmly, “I can feel your heart beating and that’s way faster than it should be.”

I started trying to argue with Phil, but I kept finding myself a bit short of breath. I could tell that he was taking absolutely none of what I said to heart, as he just continued to hold me and gently rub my chest, which was starting to hurt a little.

“Dan, where are your anxiety tablets?” Phil asked me, his hand pausing over my heart.

I felt really weird for a second, as I realised what was happening to me. Somehow I hadn’t recognised the all too familiar symptoms of an anxiety attack.

“Dan?” Phil repeated, now standing over me.

“C-coat… I think,” I stuttered, really struggling to breathe enough to form words.

“I’ll be right back,” Phil said, “Try and take big slow breaths, yeah?”

“I can’t…” I tried to tell him, but my words died on my tongue.

Somewhere in the blur of what I was hearing, I heard Phil speak to Adam, but I didn’t really receive anything else until Phil was by my side again. Adam was there too; I think he brought some water, but I wasn’t really all that sure.

Phil helped me to take my tablets, holding the glass of water for me as I seemed to be shaking too much to do it myself. I nearly choked on them, which was scary. Feeling them irritate my gag reflex had a number of unwanted memories flowing through my head.

Everything was kind of a blur of Phil’s hands and Phil’s voice for a while. A window opened and some fresh air came in, our blue and green duvet got wrapped around me, yet Phil never left my side. I drank some water occasionally when Phil brought the glass to my lips, but it was a long time before I really felt any better.

The concern on Phil’s face helped me out of the fuzzy area of my head I’d felt stuck in. I could be okay, couldn’t I? Slowly, with Phil’s help, I started to feel more there again. Phil was holding me, me laying across his lap and rolled in a duvet. Ethan was sitting on the floor looking a bit nervous and Adam was halfway across the room from the kitchen with a mug in his hands. Our laptops were now on the coffee table, well out of the way, where I hoped they’d stay. I didn’t want to see any more numbers for a while.

“Phil?” I whispered, feeling myself on the verge of tears, “Sorry, ‘m not ready.”

“Dan, it’s okay,” Phil said, his lips coming into contact with my forehead, “Now, I want to ask you what happened, but we’ll leave it ‘til later. What d’you need?”

“Cuddles,” I mumbled, that being the first thing that came to mind.

“Okay,” Phil said, adjusting how he was holding me, “Anything else?”

“Sleep maybe,” I added, realising how exhausted I felt, it was probably the best thing for me.

“Okay,” Phil said, “We’ll get you to bed in a minute. Adam’s made you some chamomile tea; if you could drink a little of that, it might help you feel better.”

I agreed, sitting up with a little help from Phil, then watching as he took the tea from Adam. My hands joined Phil’s on the mug, guiding it to my mouth but letting him take the weight. The tea helped calm me down, slowing my heart rate even further and eventually I found myself struggling to keep my eyes open.

I didn’t fight the sleep, knowing that it was perfectly acceptable. I made Phil take the tea, then curled up beside him on the sofa, letting the sleep take over and heal my body from the ordeal it had just undergone.

--

Phil’s POV:

Once Dan was soundly asleep by my side, I let out a sigh of relief. That had to be on the list of one of his worse panic attacks and I was glad it was finally over. He’d seemed so out of it the whole time and I wasn’t really sure if he was hearing me some of the time. I really wanted to talk to him about it, but that would need to wait until later. At the moment, he needed to rest and I respected that.

I carefully ran my hand through Dan’s hair to stop it from tickling his eyes and looked down at the tired, hollow expression on his face. In that moment he looked a pale shade of grey, contrasting with the bright colours of my duvet. It reminded me of when we’d just met and he spent so much time curled up, asleep in my bed. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he was back to his usual bubbly self, but it still hurt me to see him like this.

I looked over to Adam and Ethan, who were sat together on the floor in front of the other sofa, watching the scene. They looked a bit shaken up by all of this, but then I guess they weren’t expecting to have their makeout session interrupted, particularly by me needing them to help me help Dan through his panic attack. They’d been lifesavers - not literally, but close to it - getting water and one of our duvets when I asked, meaning I didn’t have to leave Dan alone.

“Thank you,” I said to them, keeping quiet so I didn’t wake Dan.

Making sure I didn’t knock him, I got up from the sofa and gestured for Adam and Ethan to follow me. I took them through to Adam’s room, where I could shut the door and talk to them without disturbing Dan.

They had done really well in the situation, but I didn’t really know how much they knew about panic attacks and wanted to explain, to the best of my ability, what they had just witnessed.

“What triggered it?” Adam asked, “Like he told me the other day it was really just things related to his experiences with his ex-girlfriend…”

“It doesn't have to be,” I explained, “Like Dan and I were looking at our money situation… which isn't exactly ideal because I work part time and he's unemployed. He feels bad that I'm doing all the work and he's worried because we're eating into our savings at the moment to pay the bills. He wants to get a job but at the same time we don't think his mental health is good enough for him to work at the moment. Realising our financial situation just got a bit much for him.”

“Oh right,” Adam said, “Our mum and Dad still give him an allowance though, right?”

“Yes,” I nodded, “It's not a lot though… but we're holding together at the moment so it's okay.”

“When d'you think he'll be able to work?” Adam asked me.

“I don't really know that,” I told him, honestly, “In terms of recovery from his eating disorder, he would be fine to work, but it's his anxiety that's stopping him. He's seeing a therapist which is helping him a bit, but it's slow progress. He booked an appointment the other day, I think for next week. I really think he should be going more regularly; okay he talks to me about it, but I can't help in the same way.”

“Okay,” Adam nodded, “And are you coping okay with all of this? With the financial situation and Dan's anxiety?”

“More or less, yeah,” I nodded, “I'm doing what I can for Dan and I'm working a lot, so like all of next week.”

“Also,” I started, “Don't let him know about this, but I've started looking at jobs which are on offer at the moment and thinking about how Dan would cope with them. I think I'm going to get him to ask his therapist's opinion about what's best for him at the moment.”

“Phil, what d’you think my… uhh… therapist will do, now I’ve met Ethan,” Adam asked, sounding uncertain.

“I don’t know,” I told him honestly, “But I wouldn’t worry about it; they’ll do whatever’s best for you.”

“You’re seeing a therapist?” Ethan asked, his voice full of concern, “What for? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“About you,” Adam said, “Because of everything I was feeling through our bond. Dan and Phil encouraged me to go see one after your first… umm… new year.”

“Ohh,” Ethan said, the realisation hitting him that Adam had felt that, “Umm, I’m sorry you had to feel that.”

“It’s okay,” Adam, said, taking his hand, “It hurt, but it all turned out okay.... I’ve only been once, she’s considering putting me on antidepressants but she said she didn’t know how much effect it would have. She was saying it was really you who needs them.”

“Funny, that’s what my blood test yesterday was for,” Ethan said, looking a little amused, “If the results are good, I’m getting put on them next week.”

“How are you feeling about that?” Adam asked him.

“A bit worried to be honest,” he said, his voice sounding a bit fragile, “Like there’s increased risk of suicide and…”

Adam brought Ethan into a hug, interestingly, before the tears started to leak from his eyes. Clearly he could tell how Ethan was feeling before it was obvious on the outside. I watched as he dragged Ethan down to sit on the bed with him, while continuing to hug him. I realised I should maybe head away and give them some space, when Adam brought up Dan.

“Dan’s told me they’re not really all that bad,” Adam told him, “He takes them for his anxiety.”

“I know, but they have different effects on different people,” Ethan mumbled into his chest, “I’m already suicidal so its clear I’m the kind of person who gets the increased risk.”

“Not necessarily,” Adam said, tightening his hug, “Your doctor’s doing what’s best for you. And I know I’m not going to be right here, but you can talk to me now if you need to.”

Now feeling it was definitely my time to go, I let the two of them know, “I’m going to go check on Dan and give you guys some space. Shout if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Adam said, “Thanks.”

“And I’m sorry for interrupting earlier,” I apologised, “I’ll let you get back to that if you want.”

I left the room, shutting the door behind me to keep the noise of their talking from Dan. I returned to the living room, where Dan was still fast asleep on the sofa. I sat down with him and found his hand in amongst the duvet. He was warm now, rather than shaking and cold, but he still looked rather pale.

I was hoping he’d feel okay when he woke up, but I wanted to be prepared in case he wasn’t. I left him for a couple of minutes to grab a few things, then settled down with him where I would stay until he woke up. I carefully lifted his head onto my lap to make him more comfortable. I think I maybe disturbed his sleep slightly, but he just mumbled and nuzzled his face into my crotch before returning to his sleep.

Dan woke up awhile later, sleepily mumbling into lap. I bent over so I could hear him better.

“What’s that?” I whispered.

“I’m awake,” Dan mumbled again.

“I see,” I replied, “How are you feeling?”

“Not that great but I’ll live,” he said, making a snuffly noise.

Feeling him sniff a couple of times, and hearing the snotty noises he made, I passed him some tissues to sort it out. He found he had to sit up to blow his nose, so I was able to hug him properly now, pulling him into my lap and wrapping both my arms snugly around him.

Dan dropped the tissues onto the floor when he was done, so we could deal with them later. He ducked his head down and snuggled into my chest, still looking like he’d had the life sucked out of him. I cupped the grey-tinged skin of his face and pressed a couple of kisses to the top of his head.

“What time is it?” Dan asked, a minute or two later.

“Half five,” I told him, having first looked at my phone to check.

“Ethan needs to be home by quarter past six,” Dan reminded me, “Are you okay to take him?”

“Of course,” I replied, “You’re staying here and looking after yourself.”

“Are you taking Adam too then?” Dan asked, puzzled.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” I laughed, “Adam’s staying too, but I meant you need to just relax and don’t do anything that’s going to make you anxious again. Relax.”

Using the power of my voice, so I didn’t have to stop cuddling Dan and get up, I shouted to remind to Ethan that we were leaving in fifteen minutes. That would give him time to round off his conversation with Adam and get ready to go home.

I stayed with Dan until it was time to go, letting him relax in my arms, with his duvet still wrapped snugly around him. When I finally did have to get up to go, I made sure that he was warm enough and comfortable and didn’t need anything else.

Adam and Ethan said their final goodbye in the hallway standing by our door. They hugged very tightly for a long time, crying silently into each other’s shoulders. They finished off with a small but timid kiss on the lips, which I could tell would have been more if I wasn’t present.

I sidestepped into mine and Dan’s room, pretending to have forgotten something, but really just giving them time to do it properly. I gave them a minute before emerging, only to find them entangled in each other's arms once again.

“I hate to split this up,” I said, “But it’s five past six and I don’t want you being late home.”

They split apart slowly, looking at each other with a gaze of longing. I gently put my hand on the back of Ethan’s coat and guided him towards the door. Adam stayed back, knowing he wasn’t to come with me, but looking on sadly.

“Look after Dan for me,” I said to Adam, “He should be fine but maybe just keep him company. I’ll only be fifteen-twenty minutes.”

Adam nodded and turned around as I shut the door behind Ethan and me. We headed down the stairs and out to my car, in the same way as we’d done the day before.

Again, Adam waved from the window, but this time Ethan knew where to look. I drove off, Ethan sniffing miserably in the back for the duration of the drive.

I left him with a final few words of support, “Look after yourself, yeah. Keep talking to Adam on the phone, maybe even try Skype, it’s good for you. I know your family environment isn’t the best, but Dan and I are only a twenty minute walk, or a phonecall away if you need a bed for the night, or even just someone to talk to.”

Ethan thanked me, dried his eyes and headed into his house. I headed home too, hoping that the evening would go smoothly and Adam would have a nice end to his stay before he headed home on the train tomorrow morning.

--

Dan’s POV:

The evening was going okay. I had more or less recovered from my panic attack. Okay, I still hadn’t talked to Phil about it and I wasn’t feeling one-hundred percent, but I could manage at seventy-five. The three of us had eaten dinner, it was nearing eight o’clock and we were all relaxing in the living room. Adam seemed the happiest I’d seen him in a long time and I was glad things were finally looking up for him on the soulmate front.

Okay, Ethan was still in a bit of a sticky home situation, but with the two of them having met, things were looking up. Meeting your soulmate couldn’t cure a depression in an instant, but having that support and someone to talk to was a big help.

I had hope for the two of them. I knew it was going to be a struggle with them living so far apart, but I’m sure they would work to resolve that soon. Ethan would be leaving school in a couple of months, so I would imagine they’d just have to get by until then.

It was about half-past eight when I noticed that Adam was acting a bit funny. I didn’t think much of it until he was looking positively miserable ten minutes later.

“Adam, are you okay?” I asked him, knowing that he wasn’t, but needing to know what was wrong.

“My stomach hurts and I feel sick,” he stated, sounding as down as he looked.

Shedding my duvet, I got up from my position next to Phil and joined Adam on the other sofa. As I got up, I mumbled to Phil to go and get some water, medicine and a bucket.

“Any idea what’s wrong?” I asked him, “D’you think there was something in our dinner that doesn’t agree with you?”

“I don’t know… I guess maybe?” Adam said, unsure.

Before I could ask anything else, Phil appeared with a bucket, some tablets for upset stomachs and a bottle of water.

“How bad d’you feel?” I asked, sitting the bucket in his lap while Phil popped open the water.

“Really bad,” Adam mumbled, slowly, “Like I feel like I’m going to throw up soon.”

“You’re not feeling dizzy or anything?” I asked.

“No, just really nauseous,” he said, resting his head on the edge of the bucket.

“Let’s get you along to the bathroom,” I said, making a decision, “Keep ahold of the bucket; that’s all you need to focus on. It’s okay if you need to use it, but Phil and I are gonna help you get there.”

I helped him up from the sofa, then loosely put my arm around him to help him along to the bathroom.

“Oh God, I think it’s Ethan,” Adam said suddenly, freezing outside the bathroom door.

“Has this happened before?” I asked calmly as Phil and I gently encouraged him the last few steps to the toilet.

“Yeah, a few times recently,” Adam said, sitting cross legged in front of the toilet, with the bucket now tossed to the side, “And I think I’ve thrown up every one of them.”

“Okay,” I nodded, trying to think if there was anything we could do to help.

I thought about calling Ethan, but if he was in the same state, or worse, he wouldn’t be up for speaking on the phone. The next best person would be our mum; she’d dealt with Adam being ill loads of times and I’m sure she’ll have helped him in this situation before.

I handed Phil my phone, “Could you call our mum, explain the situation and asked how she’s helped him before?”

Phil nodded, took the phone and hovered in the doorway as he made the call. I didn’t catch must past their initial hellos before my attention was brought back to Adam by him grasping the toilet bowl.

“Ethan’s… Ethan’s being sick,” he groaned, clearly struggling himself.

I crouched down next to him and rested my hand on his back for a moment, “Don't fight it, you’ll feel better once it’s over.”

Then suddenly Adam was being sick too. Phil took a step backwards out of the room, but even if this wasn’t something I wanted to witness, I had to look after him. When it was over, or at least hopefully, I flushed the toilet and filled the bathroom glass from the sink.

Phil returned to the doorway when it was over, still speaking to our mum, “Yeah, he just threw up.”

Adam glanced round at Phil curiously, before frantically turning back to retch into the toilet a couple of times. I encouraged him to take a couple of deep breaths and sip slowly on his water.

“Okay, yeah, we’ll do that,” Phil said to my mum, “We’ll let you know how he’s doing later, but goodbye for the moment.”

Phil ended the call and handed me back my phone. I looked up at him with an air of ‘what do we do?’

“She usually just gets him to bed with some water or tea,” Phil told me, “Keeps him company for a while and has a bucket there just in case.”

“Okay,” I nodded, looking down at Adam, “That sound okay to you?”

Adam nodded miserably, sniffed and grabbed some toilet roll to wipe his face. Phil headed off to make some tea, while I stayed with Adam while he got cleaned up. I felt like we should check up on Ethan to see what had happened and check he was okay. As Adam got himself sorted out, I typed out a text to him.

Hi ethan, it’s dan. We know you’re sick, just let us know that you’re okay. Maybe phone if you’re feeling up to it. I think you two need each other rn.

Not expecting Ethan to reply immediately, I put my phone away and gave Adam an hand up and along to his room. The bucket was laid on the floor next to the bed, as Adam didn’t feel like he needed it any more. I found him his pyjamas and encouraged him to put them on; once he was in bed, he wouldn’t want to get back out to put them on later.

Phil came in before Adam had had the chance to pull his t-shirt over his head. Phil blushed and stumbled a little, yelping when he spilt some boiling hot tea onto his foot. I took the tea from Phil and laid it down on the bedside table before he could cause anymore incidents with it. Adam now had his shirt on and was climbing into bed, leaning back against the headboard and pulling the duvet up around him.

When it was cool enough to drink, Adam started to sip slowly on the tea. Phil had collapsed into the desk chair, letting his foot recover, and I had sat at the end of the bed. Adam really wasn’t looking too good, but the warmth of the tea slowly brought some colour back to his face. After a while he told us that he was feeling a little bit better, but he was still huddled up in his duvet and shaking a little.

I had been checking my phone regularly for replies from Ethan, but as of yet there had been nothing. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to look again, when it started to ring in my hand.

“It’s Ethan,” I informed Adam and Phil as I read the screen myself.

I answered the call, lifting it to my ear and speaking to him, “Hi Ethan. What’s happened?”

“Is Adam there? Could you put me on speaker or something?” he asked.

“Yeah sure,” I said, lifting the phone away from my face and tapping the speaker icon, “I was going to do that anyway.”

Now that Adam was able to hear too, Ethan explained what had happened, “You know how I’d told you it was our family takeaway night… well we had indian and although I picked out a less spicy curry my stomach rejected it.”

“It certainly felt horrible from my end; are you okay now?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, my mum’s been looking after me. I’m in bed now with some water and an old ice cream tub if i need to throw up again and now she’s off trying to wash the cat,” Ethan explained.

“Wash the cat?” Adam repeated, puzzled.

“I kinda umm… I threw up on it,” he admitted, sounding embarrassed.

“How?” Adam queried, his eyebrows raising in wonder.

“It got in just the wrong place at the wrong moment,” Ethan explained, “I tried to lean away but she moved because she thought I was trying to play with her.”

“Wow,” Adam mumbled, his voice cracking and forcing him to take a couple more sips of tea.

“I guess you’re feeling as shit as I am?” Ethan wondered.

“Yeah probably,” Adam confirmed, “I had a sore stomach and felt sick, but I didn’t realise it was you until I was halfway to the bathroom to throw up.”

“I made you sick too,” Ethan said, shocked, stumbling over his words, “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Adam insisted, “You shouldn’t need to apologise; this is just something we’re meant to share clearly.”

“I wish it wasn’t, like I don’t want you to get sick every time I do for the rest of my life,” Ethan said, sadly.

“It might not happen if you’re together,” Phil interjected into the conversation, “Like the worry doesn’t hit me in the same way if I’m with Dan when he’s sick.”

“I hope that’s the case,” Ethan said, “I think I could live with that.”

After talking to Ethan for a while and discussing his sensitive stomach, they both agreed to be feeling a bit better. Ethan explained that he was still feeling a bit nauseous and unsettled, but Adam just seemed to be suffering from exhaustion now.

I lifted the mug of now cooling tea from Adam's hand as he started to nod off a little, and placed it on the bedside table.

“I think you two should say goodnight,” I said, looking pointedly at Adam.

“For context, Adam is falling asleep,” Phil added, to explain to Ethan.

“Awhh, I'll let you get some sleep then, love,” Ethan said, lovingly, “I hope you feel better in the morning and have a safe trip home, yeah. Call me from the train or something?”

“Yeah, sure, I think I will,” Adam responded, “G’night, love you.”

Ethan replied with a wish of goodnight and an ‘I love you too’. It seemed cute that they were saying it so soon, but with soulmates, is there really a definition for when the love begins?

“Dan, could you stay on for a bit longer?” Ethan asked me timidly, “Like clearly let Adam sleep but maybe go to another room?”

“Of course,” I replied, as Phil and I headed out of Adam’s room, shutting the door over behind us.

Phil and I headed to our room, where we resumed the conversation with Ethan. He spoke to both of us for another five minutes, really just needing a little consolation about Adam leaving in the morning. Phil and I did our best to remind him it would be okay and give him various suggestions on keeping in touch, but there was only so much we could do.

“I think you should get some sleep too,” I told him after a while, “You might be up early in the morning because Adam will be.”

Slightly begrudgingly, Ethan agreed and said goodnight to us. Once he’d hung up the phone, I expressed to Phil how glad I was that he seemed to be okay talking to us about things. I meant to ask him what his parents soulmate bond had been, but I’m guessing not a telepathic one as he always commented on them not understanding what he was going through.

Phil and I headed to bed not long later. We’d had a complicated day that we needed to unwind from before going to sleep, and the easiest way to do that was wrapped in each other's’ arms.

It was always easier after the event had passed, so I told Phil in more detail about my earlier panic attack. I was now recovered enough that talking about it wouldn’t cause a relapse.

Phil had brought it up in a calm and collected manner, “Are you ready to talk about your panic attack yet or shall we wait 'til tomorrow?”

I had agreed and slowly started to explain, “I… uhhh… didn't realise I was having a panic attack until you asked me where my medication was. Then from there, everything's a little fuzzy, like clearly I could hear and see and everything but it was kinda like I was in a bubble. I didn't feel completely there which was a little scary.”

“You didn't seem completely there either,” Phil told me, “Like I wasn't sure if you were hearing me some of the time.”

“I don't know if I was hearing everything,” I admitted, “It was really weird but I'm so glad it's over.”

Not really having the energy to say much more I cuddled into Phil and groaned, “Ugh I'm so tired, can we sleep now?”

“Yeah sure,” Phil nodded, returning my sleepy embrace, “Good idea because we need to get up early in the morning. It's not gonna be easy but we can always nap later in the day if we need to.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I nodded into Phil's chest.

Both of us tired, but our consciences now clear, we cuddled up together and let ourselves fall asleep. It was never easy explaining it to someone else, but I had told Phil as much as I could. Talking about it stopped everything from building up in my head and getting too much and it helped Phil to understand what I was going through better. I felt better now I’d got that off my chest, and Phil and I could now go to sleep with more peaceful minds.

--

My ears were greeted with the buzzing of Phil’s alarm, shortly followed by mine. My eyes were greeted with the darkness of the room as the sun wasn’t quite up yet. Now I was conscious, I was aware that I couldn’t feel my arm, because Phil was lying on it.

“Mmmph… Phil,” I mumbled, “Can’t feel my arm.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, lifting his torso up slightly to free it, “Mornin’”

The sleepy Phil moved around a bit, sprawling out on his back for a minute, then rolling back up to my side, “How’d you sleep?”

“Not bad,” I told him, honestly, “I’m still tired; I could’ve done with a bit longer, but I’ll cope.”

“I know the feeling,” Phil admitted, “Let’s have a nap later, yeah.”

I tried to cuddle into Phil, but a couple of seconds later he pulled away, starting to sit up.

“I’m going to go and see if Adam’s up,” Phil told me, “I don’t know if he’ll have set an alarm. Take another couple of minutes if you want and I’ll wake him up and get breakfast started.”

“Thanks,” I said to Phil, who bent down to give me a kiss before he left.

I couldn’t help the whine which escaped my lips when he left so soon. Although tired, I was feeling a little horny this morning and my body didn’t want Phil to leave. I rolled over to bury my face into the pillow, but that proved uncomfortable with the medium sized hardness that had formed in pyjamas overnight. Letting out a sigh, I rolled back onto my side. I needed to go and sort this out quickly in the shower.

I started with the shower on cold, hoping that I would be able to con it into going away. After five minutes, nothing had changed, in fact it was starting to get a bit uncomfortable. I gave in, turning the water up to a comfortable temperature and began the process of jacking myself off with my hand.

Making use of the constant stream of water to keep things slick, I worked my hand up and down my erection, trying to hurry things along. I wanted this over as quickly as possible, but my body didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Eventually, I lost track of how long this was taking, but it seemed longer than usual.

I could feel I was close, but it was killing me that I couldn’t quite get there. I didn’t really want to finger myself as I’d need a while to clean myself out, then clean that up… and I think the lube was in the bedroom anyway. I sighed, returning my hand to my dick with a renewed sense of vigor. I could do this.

Five minutes later and nothing seemed to have progressed. I was still uncomfortably close, but nothing I tried to do about it seemed to work. I was on the verge of collapsing to the floor in exhaustion when there was a knock on the door.

“Dan? I’ve got Adam up and I’ve eaten a bowl of cereal; you’ve been in the shower a while. Are you okay in there?” Phil asked, innocently.

I think I took too long in deciding what to reply, because Phil knocked again, “Dan? You okay? If you don’t reply, I’m coming in.”

Panicking, I couldn’t think of the words to explain my situation and decided I’d wait for Phil to see it for himself. The door opened and Phil rushed in, concern on his face at seeing me sitting on the floor of the shower. He opened the door, reached over to turn the water off, then crouched down in front of me.

With my dick straining at my stomach, my predicament couldn’t be that unclear, yet Phil hesitated before doing anything about it, “Dan, you need to talk to me. What’s happened? I can see you’re hard, but is there something wrong?”

“Couldn’t get it down…” I stuttered, “Can’t get off either.”

“Are you feeling overstimulated or d’you want me to touch you?” Phil asked calmly, keeping his hands off as he waited for my answer.

“I don’t know… both,” I said, stumbling a bit over my words.

“Okay,” Phil nodded, getting up and grabbing a towel from the radiator, “I want you to get out and sit on the bathmat. I’m going to try and blow you if that’s okay. Please say if it gets too much.”

--

Phil’s POV:

Dan did as I suggested, sitting on the fluffy mat rather than the hard floor of the shower. I wrapped the towel around his shoulders before getting down on him, kneeling on the floor in front of him. I started a little slowly, with my hands around his base, before eventually progressing to deep-throating his length. I didn’t hold him back or stop him from fucking into my mouth; he’d been doing this too long already and I didn’t want to draw it out.

So that I didn’t have to pull off Dan, I nudged my fingers into his mouth to moisten them. I slipped this free hand under his bum and gently started to massage his rim, going no further because I had no lube on me. This added sensation, along with my tongue swirling around his length, seemed to do it for Dan, having him bucking up into my mouth and moaning a little too loudly.

I think it hit him suddenly, because Dan had no time to warn me of his orgasm before he was spurting into my mouth. I swallowed around him, doing my best to work him through it, swallowing what I could and leaving the rest to drip unattractively down my chin.

Dan flopped back onto the floor, panting. I took a couple of seconds to recover myself, before getting up, rinsing my face and soaking a facecloth with lukewarm water. I plopped down on the floor next to him and cleaned up his sticky, but now softening dick. He flinched away from the light touch, but I persevered, knowing he would appreciate it.

“That better now?” I mumbled to him, moving to where I could see his face and pushing the hair back off his forehead.

“Yeah,” he panted tiredly, “That was good, thanks.”

I stayed with Dan for a minute or two as he recovered, freshening my mouth with some mouthwash then sitting with him on the floor. Eventually I had to leave him to check that Adam was getting on okay. I managed to encourage him to get up off the floor and head back into our bedroom to get dressed. Then hopefully, he’d be through for his breakfast in five minute’s time.

“He was in the shower, but he’s getting dressed now,” I explained to Adam on arrival back at our dining table.

When I left, I’d told him I was going to check on Dan and I might as well let him know his brother was fine. Adam was now tucking into a slice of toast so I decided I would do the same. Dan appeared five minutes later, dressed comfortably in joggies and a hoodie, and heading straight for the kettle.

I’d already poured him a bowl of cereal and a glass of water and brought his medication over to the table. He plopped down next to me a couple of minutes later, cradling his steaming cup of tea.

Dan ate his breakfast quietly, not really saying much. Most of the conversation was between me and Adam, checking that he had his bag more or less packed and his train ticket to hand.

Once Dan had eaten his breakfast and drunk his tea - the most caffeine he could really handle - he seemed a bit more alert and ready to face the day. The three of us got ready to head to the station, making sure Adam had everything he’d brought with him.

I drove us there, so if we couldn’t get parked, Dan would still be able to see him off. We’d both enjoyed having him to stay, even with the struggles. Something great had happened, with him meeting his soulmate. I too, was sad to see him go, but I felt that Dan and I would be keeping close touch with him for the next little while.

We were able to get parked, so I joined Dan and Adam in their emotional embrace on the platform. He was trying not to show it as he was in public, but Adam was crying. Not only was he leaving his brother who he’s really close to, but he was also leaving his soulmate. It was a pity Ethan couldn’t have come to see him off at the station, but his parents wouldn’t let him out alone.

As Dan and I sandwiched Adam in one last hug, Dan reminded him that he had our numbers if he needed any support. We watched on as he stepped up into the train, settled in a seat by the window and finally waved goodbye as the train rolled off.

Next chapter =>

[iprefermyanarchycolorcoded]

I wrote a short story

The buzz of the city was overpowering, being from the slums originally Adam had a hard time dealing with the noise of the business district outside of the rare occasion he would run a deal for Papa. It suited him all the more, people in the slums didn't have time for as much prejudice as common folk did. And having purple skin, black eyes, and two horns bigger than those on the goats head of a Chimera opened him up for plenty of slurs and attacks from the “Pure-breeds.”

However being here was a necessity albeit an extremely taxing one. If he was going to take on an entire Necropolis he needed first a Cleric that could be bought, and second as much holy water and godly paraphernalia (shiver at the thought) as he could get his hands on. And Vigil was exactly the place to find those, well hopefully.

“A few cold Iron golems wouldn't hurt on second thought.” He muttered to himself as he walked past the plethora of temples and shrines.

“Pharasma won't work. They'll have their hands on their symbols screaming holy obscenities before I can even get the word mummy out, can't do Caiden Cailen I would need 3 barrel's of Ale a day just to keep their short attention spans focused. Perhaps Iomadae?” Then he looked at himself and giggled a little “I'd wake up with my intestines as garters.”

Ugh he thought to himself Why does it have to be undead?! Why cant it just be goblins or even trolls although smelly trolls are rather easy once you show them you can fly on a cloud of fire. And Goblins may be stupid but they're not feral; shrink down so you don't look like a “Longshank” and throw em some meat, you'd have more than enough time to sneak out with whatever you needed. My life couldn't be that easy though could it. Literally the one thing my spells are virtually useless against.

That's it! He thought I go to Irori challenge a cleric he loses in a caster's duel, as he almost objectively could not succeed and then I only have to pay him enough to cover basic wages. He worked his way to the market place and began to sift through his grimoire and choosing which spells to use to humiliate whatever poor “pure-breed” accepted his proposal.

Sitting down near the fountain he tried to focus but kept having his focus broken by the guards yammering In the nearby alley way.

“I'm not lying there are demons crawling all over the piss pen!”

“There is no way demons got into the city without raising some form of alarm or panic that's ridiculous.”

“Look I wouldn't piss on a rock and call it rain, i'm telling you I saw something trash that house and it wasn't human.”

It was then they seemed to notice Adam listening in on their stage whisper conversation.

“What are you looking at black-blood, take your demon eyes elsewhere or ill shove you in the dungeon.”

Adam really did try not to laugh, but sometimes arrogance has it's detriments. “Boys I hate to break it to you but I could erase you from existence before tea time and have your families believing you never existed before dinner.” He stood up and clapped his book shut somehow managing to make even that sound snooty.

He started to walk towards them muttering a few words they surely couldn't understand under his breathe. They began to draw their swords but as they did they herd a firm and distinctly feline voice aggressively meow in their direction. They turned and saw nothing completely missing the small scraggly ball of fur purring below their noses. They turned back just in time to see the fiend step into the air and disappear entirely.

“Damn wizards and their cosmic bullshit.” Egrin mumbled.

“You're just mad because Ellis ran away with that witch doctor.” Rinald chuckled immediately regretting as his face became the new perching spot for Egrins fist.

“Not cool man. You said you wouldn't bring it up anymore.”

Adam chuckled from a nearby rooftop honestly applauding their ability to enjoy simpleton life. If only the gods had blessed with stupidity. He let out a heavy sigh and began to run toward the piss pen, it was notorious for its smell because that particular part of the slums didn't have a water duct system for their waste like the rest of the city forcing them to defecate in select areas of the city. Although most of them were far too hopped up on Bloodbrush to pay attention and mostly just went wherever they had fallen.

The guards didn't go there much because of the smell leaving the area at the mercy whatever thug was the current “Owner” of the territory.

Detestable but unavoidable. Maybe its a good thing I was smart enough to get out. Not the time Adam, if demons are really running through the piss pen it wouldn't take long before people started dying or depending on the circumstance more were lured out into our plane.

Adam smelled his target long before he reached it. He pushed down the desire to turn around and forget all about this nonsense. It was practically a charity for him to look into this at all.

As soon as he hit the small cluster of huts that made up the neighborhood he could see most of the destruction, all of it was peculiarly... small. Not localized to one place but very small. One of the few times perplexed could be used to describe him. Unfortunately for him this was inopportune time to become lost in thought he didn't realize this however until a small crossbow bolt lodged itself firmly into his right shoulder.

“What in the 7 Pantheon is your problem?” he screamed immediately followed by a few arcane words giving life to a eagle in mid air who promptly removed the burden of the crossbow from the citizen. “Get you demon magic out of here fiend!” The small man shouted.

“Oh hush you spoiled cabbage patch.” It was just a local who had been spooked so there was no need for further education, ignorance leads to violence. It wasn't entirely his fault but he did need answers so he proceeded to half his eagle sweep the halfling up and pop him onto the roof next to him before the spell broke.

Popping out a finely crafted wand of his own making Adam spoke the command word healing the crossbow wound and then popping a few charges of the wand into the petite but filthy man next to him. Once he seemed satisfied by the healing the halfling calmed down and stopped his rather amusing attempts at threats.

“I need a rundown of what happened but make it fast and keep to facts. No conjecture or superstition. It wastes time and my small reservoir of patience.”

Struggling to do as Adam asked but giving it a valiant effort Heither tried to recall exactly what he saw and the best he could do, sticking to facts only of course, was to explain that sometime that morning a small hut towards the center of the cluster had begun to smell. More so than usual so a few of the Copper Viper Crew went to take care of it and they claimed to have seen 4 small ape like creatures fly out of the hut spewing fetid clouds from their mouths and destroying everything in their path. Oh also they were about the size of the halfling. Allegedly he added, a light burn to the small creatures pride.

“Do we know who lives in the hut?” Adam interrogated.

“A kid named Kugak and his parents, but they're juiced up most of the time on Ale and Bloodbrush so they aren't usually home.”

“How old is young Kugak?”

“I think he just turned 12? but I cant be sure he usually sticks to himself swiping books and scrolls from stands and libraries to read. I spoke with him once and he mentioned something about becoming a powerful wizard someday.”

“Of course he did. Wheres the hut?”

Leading Adam to the hut Heither couldn't help but be fearful for the kid. Muttering a few arcane words as Adam entered he was followed in by a small pack of wolves that Heither was absolutely positive were not there on their way to the building.

Confirming Heithers suspicion Adam became to speak to the canines. “Sweep the place, find the smell and bring them back here, and you kid get out here that spell isn't going to fool anyone besides those damn Dretches.” As he finished his sentence the wolves seemed to find the scent and dashed out of the room a rod in Adam's hand illuminating.

Simultaneously the wall on the eastern side of the building shimmered and faded as a young boy with green skin and very pronounced Tusks stepped out looking ashamed. “This isn't what I wanted im so sorry!” He stuttered as he broke out into sobs.

“Stop! You made a mess and you need to focus on cleaning it up. Tears are decidedly less necessary when you realize they'll only get you killed.” He grabbed him by the chin and lifted his face up. “Mother or father?”

“What?” The boy asked confused.

“Which one was the orc?” Adam asked looking at his features?

“M-my dad, it was a raid or something mom doesn't talk about it she just kind of drinks a lot.”

“Yeah, that'll happen, anyway what did you do?”

“I don't know I was-” Adam immediately cut him off.

“That's a steaming pile of horse shit, you were smart enough to get 4 demons from the abyss onto this plane you can piece together an idea of what happened.”

“There was a scroll, that this guy gave me. I was trying to ask him about magic because he said he was a wizard and he said I could use it and get enough money to get out of the slums.”

“You believed him?!” Adam asked as he smacked him on the side of the head. “Repeat after me, We do not accept strange magical items from men we don't know.”

“We do not accept strange magical items from men we don't know.” He managed to get out despite his lip getting caught on his fang.

“Good not hold this wand.”

“Ok-”

“NO!” WOP, he smacked him again. “Did you learn nothing?”

“Oh i'm sorry.”

“Dear Lords Child, what is your name?”

At this point Heither spoke up “This is the boy I was telling you-”

“Silence he is an able bodied individual he can speak for himself.” Heither shrank back into the background obviously irritated.

“Uh im uhm Kugak sir.”

“Kugak what?” Adam asked looking at the boy down his spectacles.

“Just uh, Kugak sir.” He said ashamed.

“Seeing the demeanor shift Adam changed the topic, ok where is the binding circle?”

“The what?” Heither and Kugak asked Simultaneously?

“You used a summoning scroll without a binding circle, of course you did,” Adam began to mutter to himself while walking around the building grabbing some small things out of his bag, “then again you weren't ENTIERLY at fault,” shooting Kugak a glance,

“So what are we gonna do?” Heither asked wondering if the Tiefling was all bark or not.

Running through his options Adam looked at the boys again. Seeing a hilt on Heither's side he asked him “How good are you with that sword?”

“I'm the best halfling in my clergy?” He said tentatively.

“Well that's not the worst thing i've heard today, whats it made out of?”

“Cold Iron I believe.” He pulled the blade out and swung it a few times, letting it whistle as it cut the air. “I've never actually checked, because I haven't actually used it before....”

“Oh heavens.” Adam thought to himself, he just might become religious if the day continued on much longer.

“You, do you know how to use a wand?” Looking at Kugak.

“You point and you say the right word, basically right?” Kugak asked.

“Good job kid, take this” He handed it to Kugak. However The child stared back tentatively.

“You said I wasn't supp-” Adam groaned hearing this.

“That's correct, hello my name is Adam and now we're best friends so take this and do as I say.” This time Kugak apprehensively took the small piece of wood from him. “Now point at that bottle and say firmly but respectfully, SMAAZ!”

The wand sparked to life in his hand, three quick red bolts flew out destroying the bottle. Kugak excitedly began to jump up and down. “I did it! I did something right!”

Had Adam not heard the wolves in the distance he would have allowed to boy the small triumph but this needed to be done shortly before the guard arrived.

“Ok listen, the spell that is chasing the dretches toward us is about to fail when we head out there Heither you and Kugak need to focus your attacks on one at a time. Its the fastest way to dispose of them effectively without a binding circle we'll have to dispose of them the old fashion way. The bolts will not miss as long as you stay focused on a single target. I will keep the rest as busy as I can while you focus them. Are you ready you pint sized little churls?”

Heither spoke up, “I mean no not really.” he was calming the tremors in his hands. “I'm assuming there isn't much of a choice in the matter since a demon is telling me what to do.”

“Watch it hopper.” He narrowed his eyes, Heither’s response to the slur was to also narrow his.

Feeling his spell fade he walked out into the slums the two small ones trailing behind him. Remember what I said and you probably won’t die. They stood in a line watching as not 4 but 7 small beasts with hairless ape like bodies came crashing to a stop about 30 feet in front of them. They began to raise themselves off of the ground focusing onto Adam and his compatriots. Clouds of yellow fetid air seeping out of their snarls as their lips curled over their broken and discolored teeth. Adam thought for a moment that maybe he should send the others back inside, the beasts claws were far more intimidating than he remembered. The patchy hair at least would give the boys the notion that they were unarmored. Seeing the trepidation in them Adam began to speak.

“Lesson 1, Dretches are entirely immune to electricity and poison and resistant to most other forms of attacks like most demons from the abyss. Therefore Stab and my shoot pint sized princes” He then flipped his book open and thumbed through some pages and the dretches zeroed in on the three of him. “Aha, I knew it was in here, sruzmy vorv wzrilqdy, oudzm,” As he finished the words he looked up from the page and watched as his spell took form. Below the creatures Red tentacles began to lift from the ground and wrap themselves around the beasts catching many but not all. “You know its quite satisfying using a spell you made yourself, im going to stand here and appreciate my handy work while you two do, WHAT I TOLD YOU TOO!”

Adams raised voice caused the others to spring to life, the Halfling sped forth launching himself into the nearest freed beast opting for a whirlwind of small attacks and enough agility to avoid most of the feral swipes instead of a frontal “Stand your ground”-esque strategy. as Kugak shouted with maybe a little too much gusto “SMAAZ.” Watching with glee as the targets found their mark right as Heither sunk his blade into the beast causing it to go limp. Two more immediately replaced it but Adam felt as though they could handle them just fine, if not he could always patch them up after. Pulling his crossbow out of his belt he wove another spell and watched as two large, maybe a little too large, snakes wove into creation. He would definitely have to look into the spell later to make sure it was cast properly.

Hearing a cacophony of command words and cackling from the two beasts attacking Heither he was surprised to see the green halfing moving with astonishing grace. Avoiding almost every attack without a mistep. Almost like the thieves he had seen in Cheliax. He watched as two of his snakes began to squeeze the life out of some the beasts he had snagged with his initial spell and aimed Tanglevine, his exquisitely crafted crossbow, at one of the ones desperately fighting with the tentacle prison he was in. He zoned in and let loose an enchanted bolt, hearing the magic sizzle as it made impact was always so satisfying. Watching the creature phase into another plane was just as sweet. Reloading he noticed that the other two were still dealing with their share of the problem.

Wanting to be annoyed at the delay he decided to focus on his task and let another bolt loose sending another one presumably into one of the elemental planes. That would be ideal anyway. Regardless he didn't care as long as they were out of the Piss-Pen before the Guards could be bothered to come help the poor folk. Finishing the other two he was strangely satisfied to see that the boys had completed their objective.

Releasing his spell in time to see the guard headed that direction he shouted out, “Hey you two over here now.” Grabbing both their hands he quickly muttered a few words and they were immediately in another part of town. “So, that went much better than expected, I was fully anticipating at least one lost limb.”

“Where are we?” Heither said looking around aggressively.

“Somewhere in Vigil i'm just not sure where.”

“We're near all the bars, we're still pretty close to the piss pen.” Kugak said head down again.

“How do you know that?” Adam inquired.

“Thats the tavern my mom gets drunk in.” He said pointing to a small building with a sign that said The Cornfed Maiden.

“Classy.” Adam said under his breathe. “Come with me.” He took Kugak by the hand and walked toward the tavern.

“No wait I don’t want to go in there, she doesn't like to see me.” He said digging his feet into the ground.

“Hmm well,” Adam fished around in his bag for a moment. “This bag has 50 Gold pieces in it, you have two options. You take it in there and hand it to your mother and tell her that a Wizard of great power has agreed to train you but you will be leaving and most likely not returning for years if not ever and that gold is for the cost of purchasing her son. In which case I will see you at the town gate at sundown. Or you take this Gold and do whatever you want with it and I never see you again. The choice is yours and I hope you make a decision that you do not regret.” With that Adam turned around magically shifting his clothes into a hood and robes.

He got about fifty feet away before a small Heither runs up to him. “What was that? You can't just spring something like that on a kid and walk away like it's no big deal! You really are a demon.”

“You are incorrect on both accounts, first I am only partly demon, or rather tainted by demonic blood. Secondly,” and he stopped to look at the Halfling, “I absolutely can do this. I was born and raised in slums and I fought tooth and nail to get out. That child obviously has the potential to become something. Maybe not a Wizard but something. His mother doesn't care about him proven by the complete abandon that led to him literally opening a hole to the abyss into the middle of Vigil. If he comes with me I will teach him and train him and he will have the skills to do anything he wants in life instead of living in a literal pile of piss and shit waiting for the dysentery to set in. Now if you'll kindly excuse me I have to go find a Cleric willing to travel with a Tiefling.”

As he started to walk away Heither kept pace and asked “Wait why do you need a cleric, you obviously can handle yourself without any help? Also why did you ask for help you didn't need.”

“I didn't need it, but the boy did. The best way to deal with guilt is to actively do something to combat the wrong you did so I gave him that option. I asked you to help so I didn't have to hover over him and make him feel like he didn’t help.” He didn't want to mention that his motivations were also to see how well the halfling could handle himself in combat. “Speaking of, I forgot to get my damn wand back from him.”

“That's actually kind of … well kind.” Heither said astonished.

“Of course it is, everything I do is well thought out and flawless.”

“You are also incredibly humble.” Heither muttered with heavy sarcasm.

“Humility isn't needed when you can shape the fabric of reality with a few words.” Adam retorted.

“I disagree pretty heavily but back on previous points, why do you need a cleric?” Heither retorted.

“Why are you asking?” Adam said stopping, trying to not let satisfaction hit him before it was appropriate.

“Because I may know of one interested.”

“I need to hire one to accompany me into a Necropolis to recover an artifact I need.”

“Necropolis?”

“A city overflowing with undead creatures and energies.”

“And you just expect a Clergy member to fawn over your prowess and fall head over heels in love with your quest.”

Continuing to walk Adam replied “I'm no fool, I intend to pay them as well as make a heavy donation to the church of their choosing out of the loot pulled in the Necropolis.”

“What if I told you I recently finished my magical training and was interested in accompanying you if for no other reason than to make sure you feed the kid regularly.”

“I would say that these were a very fortunate series of events for me.” His hood hiding his smug facial expression.

“And how do you know Kugak is going to be at the gate at Dusk?”

“Because I could smell the ambition on him, partner. So go get your stuff together, leave this as a donation so your church doesn't get a belly ache and- You don't worship Pharasma, Iomadae, or Caiden Cailen? Do you?”

“Sarenrae actually.... Why?

“Oh no reason” Adam looked at the Halfling suddenly excited for the first time in a long time to be traveling with someone and said as he flapped his robes to the side spinning almost too dramatically. “See you at dusk!”