#writing from his pov is exhausting and disturbing but that’s probably why you’re here <3

[yanderebunbun]

we are slowly getting closer to the version i had in my mind. (a more accurate drawing of him is definitely on the way!!) i just like to use picrews to get a clearer picture of him.

[flashbackharry]

Prompt #74

“you’re my sanity”

Recommended song:

“Our way to fall” by Yo La Tengo.

Trigger Warning: Addiction

You weren't entirely sure where the buzzing sound came from. You had thought someone was knocking on the door but it didn’t quite sound like it. You adjusted yourself on the mattress before sitting up and realizing it was your phone. You had recently got into the habit of turning your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ cause you were having trouble sleeping lately and your phone was certainly a big distraction. It was moments like these that having your phone on “Do Not Disturb’ was a bad idea.

You picked up your phone which was lying underneath your pillow, the glare from your screen causing you to squint. You saw you had 9 miscalls from Harry and 3 miscalls from Mitch. Your heart sped up and your mind went to the worst case scenario. It was a little past 2am and Harry had sent you a text right before you went to bed saying he was going to be staying a little late at the studio. You didn't mind, writing music was definitely a long tedious process and you couldn't really control what times he got inspired to write and record, so you understood it was a very arbitrary process. You decided to call Harry back first. It rang twice before going to voicemail. You tried again and the same thing happened. You swore under your breath while calling mitch.

“Heyyyyy” He said, sounding very drunk.

“Hey Mitch what's going on? Is everything alright?” You said, your voice hushed and worried. Your voice still raspy from sleep.

“Everythings great Y/n, just peachy actually.” Mitch was a very serious guy and didn’t talk much, he especially didn’t randomly call you so he most likely had to be under some sort of influence.

“Mitch, where is Harry?”

“Ohhhh, Harry, that's why I called you. His phone died but he's like totally freaking out right now, asking if you could pick him up.”

“What? Why? What happened Mitch?” You asked. Your anxiety growing fuller by the second.

“We might have tried some acid. Yeah he was like fine the first couple hours then he stopped talking and next thing you know he's like crying in the corner, now he's just sitting, kinda silent.” Mitch said, his words slurred and you couldn't hear most of what he was saying cause the background was so loud. Your heart sank once you heard he was experimenting with drugs. This was not like Harry and especially considering everything he knows about your past concerning drugs, a small part of you was angry and confused.

“I’m on my way Mitch.” and with that you hung up. Putting on a pair of sweats and one of Harry's hoodies.

You grabbed your phone and car keys and left your apartment. On the way there, your mind couldn't help but wonder towards all the awful things that could've happened. You lost your brother about 3 years ago, he struggled on and off with addiction. When you found out about his death, you and Harry were only friends. He drove you to the hospital, consoled you while you wept. Sat in his car with you for about an hour in silence while you hesitated going into your empty apartment.

You were only friends then but when Harry offered to sleep over you nodded your head before he even finished his sentence. You slept in the same bed and he held you until you fell asleep. Nothing sexaul, but it definitely was a transformative moment in your friendship. A moment that made you both realize you couldn't not be in each other's lives. You made him swear that night he would never get into drugs ever. He shifted in the sheets, turned the lamp on beside your bed and made you look up at him as he promised you he never would.

Fast forward to now, you were on your way to pick up your boyfriend who was having a bad trip at two am. Before you realized it you were crying, the street lights were turning into a blurry haze. The studio was relatively close to you and Harrys flat, so you got there in about 7 minutes, also because it was 2am so no one was on the roads. There weren't many people there, it probably just sounded like there was on the phone call with Mitch because of the loud music. Excluding Harry, it was just Mitch and Sarah there really. Everyone else must have left.

“Oh heyyy Y/n is here” Mitch called from the couch where he sat with Sarah.

You found Harry crouched down on the floor. He had a pair of headphones in and he looked...awful. His eyes were red and drooping. There was a thin line of sweat on his upper lip, his entire face was flushed. You crouched down in front of him and took his headphones off. He got startled before meeting your eyes and calming down.

“It's me honey.” You said, swinging his arm around your neck before trying to lift him gradually off the floor.

“Are we going home?” He asked you, his words low and slurred.

“Yeah, we're going home bub.” You whispered in his ear.

With Harry on your side you stumbled out the studio doors, bearing most of Harry's weight.

You opened the backseat of your car and buckled Harry in. You took his face in your hands once you were done buckling him in, his eyes looked exhausted.

“How do you feel?” You asked him.

“I’m sorry.” He said, his eyes watering up. Your heart hurt a little as he said that. You didn't quite know what to say. Obviously he knew the extent of his actions, he knew he hurt you tonight. But yet you still couldn't say anything. This was a conversation you had to have in the morning. You kissed him on the cheek and closed the car door, walking over to the driver's seat and driving home.

The whole ride home you kept stealing glances at him through the rear view mirror. Making sure he was still breathing. He seemed to be dozing off. You pulled into your driveway. Getting out of the driver's seat and walking over to Harry in the backseat.

You opened his door and unbuckled him, you heard soft snores escape him.

“Hey bub, we're home.” You whispered, shaking his shoulder a little bit to get him to open his eyes.

Once you made it inside you helped him strip his clothes off, putting a clean t-shirt on him and giving him a pair of sweats to sleep in. You went downstairs and filled a glass of water up, as well as grabbing two tabs of tylenol for the headache he was bound to get. When you made it back upstairs, Harry was already in bed, the covers up to his neck.

“Here, drink this.” You said sitting on the bed and handing him the glass of water and a one of the tabs of tylenol. He gently took it from you and downed the entire glass in about 3 seconds. Swallowing the tablet after.

You took the glass from him once he was done.

He held onto your hand for a little longer and that made you meet his gaze. He had sad eyes.

“Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad Harry, I’m just a little disappointed. Don’t worry about it right now though. Cmon, let's go to bed.” You said, pulling the sheets back and sliding in. You turned the lamp off and you felt Harry slide an arm around your waist. You fell asleep easily, your entire body aching. Your thoughts didn't stop, even when you were asleep. Your mind kept returning to all the possible outcomes of tonight, all the bad ones mostly. You knew getting a little high for creative inspo, especially when it concerns the making of music was not a new thing. All the great artists have done it. It was the stars who used even while not making music that stuck with you.

Sure it was just acid now, but it was also just a little weed and alcohol for your brother in the beginning as well and look where he ended up.You feared seeing “Harry Styles:Dead at 26” on the front page. Your heart clenched at the thought of it. Memories of your brother came flooding. You didn’t want the same circumstances happening to the love of your life as well. Tears soaked your pillow. Harry pulled you to his chest, catching you off guard. You took a deep breath, jolting awake and found you were crying even harder now.

“You promised...you promised..” You said, clenching fistfuls of his shirt in your hands.

“I know, I know I’m so sorry.” Harry cooed into your ear as he rubbed circles on your back.

***

Morning: Harry's Pov:

When Harry woke up the next morning, he felt two things. A pounding fucking headache. And a dull ache in his chest. He woke up to see the love of his life peacefully sleeping beside him. Memories of the previous night flooded his mind and he was reminded of how major he fucked up. He watched as she breathed in and out, soft snores escaping her. Her eyes were puffy and a little red from all the crying. It hurt him so much knowing how deeply he hurt her. He planted a kiss to her temple before slowly getting out of bed. He hopped in the shower, wanting so badly to turn back the hands of time. He knew last night she was thinking of her brother, of the promise she made him make 3 years ago.

Once he was out of the shower, he went back to change into some actual clothes and found she wasn't in bed. He went down stairs and found she was brewing a cup of coffee. There was some cut up fruit on the table and some yoghurt with granola. Even when she didn’t have to, when he completely expected her not to, she was still caring for him. His heart swelled, he was completely undeserving. He tried to sneak in without making any noise but as he walked in she was turning towards the door, catching his eye. They made eye contact briefly before she looked away. Ouch.

He didn’t want to say anything at first, wanted to give her time to think, but it took everything in him to not go over there and scoop her up in his arms and apologize 1000 times.

He sat down at the table, as did she. She sipped at her coffee while opening up her journal and began writing. He didn’t even try hiding the fact that he was staring at her from across the table. She was so full of love and light.

Fuck not saying anything.

Harry walked over to her, grabbing her hand, instructing her to stand up. She hesitated first before doing so. They stood in the middle of the kitchen, a few inches apart.

“What are you thinking about right now?” He said, reaching out to grab her hand.

“Honestly? I’m thinking about how my coffee needs a little more sugar.” She said, completely deadpan. Only when Harry chuckled did she give him a small smile. That smile disappeared before she spoke again, this time in a lower, cautious voice.

“I’m thinking you need to realize you aren't doing this alone anymore. That your life isn’t just centered around you, that I would be devastated if anything happened to you.That you are my sanity “

Harry cupped her face. Meeting her eyes.

“I know, I’m sorry I broke your promise. I’m not gonna make excuses for why I did what I did last night, I did it, and I can't change that. I just want you to forgive me.”

She lifted her chin, standing on her tippy toes for a minute to plant a small kiss to his cheek.

“I forgive you Harry.” She whispered. .

Harry wrapped his arms around her. He hurt the one he loves the most and he wouldn’t make that mistake again, a promise he made to himself.

“Might have to have a word with Mitch though.” She said smiling.

A laugh rumbled through Harry's chest.

[cutiepisenpai]

Dear Stranger Series Ch. 8: Georgia(Spencer Reid x Female OC)

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Warning : Angst with a happy ending, kidnapping, minor drugging, launguage.

Spencer's POV 

It's an early Sunday morning and the team is off today. Spencer is woken up by a hand running through his hair and the humming of his fiance. He opens his eyes to see her bright smile "Good Morning Sunshine." He hears her call out but he is still so exhausted they had a long night, debating the best Dr. Who Dr.'s. In an effort to stay asleep, instead of responding he just pulls her in to cuddle and closes his eyes. "You know as much as I would love to lay here with you all day, I have things to do." She begins by saying. "And you were supposed to join me but from the looks of it I'm not getting you out of bed anytime soon." She says before turning in his arms and kissing his forehead. He feels her shift to get out of the bed and start her day. 

A few hours had passed before Spencer woke up again. Rolling to look at Melinda's side of the bed he sees a note on her pillow. "Went to the farmer's market. Breakfast is in the microwave. Be back later. ❤ Mel P.S. Peter Capaldi was the better Dr.  XOXO". He laughs at her message and gets up out of bed and washes up before heading to the kitchen. The clock reads one pm he figures Mel should have already been back by now. Reheating the food she prepared and putting coffee on to brew he decides to call her. The phone rings and rings and rings. "Hey this is Melinda, sorry I couldn't get to the phone, leave a message and I'll call you back."  He is surprised she didn't answer but she may be diving back so he doesn't think much of it. Thirty minutes go by and she still hasn't shown up or called him back. Trying to call again the phone rings repeatedly before, "Hey this is Melinda, sorry I couldn't get to the phone, leave a message and I'll call you back." Now Spencer is starting to worry he knows she can take care of herself but seeing what they see at work everyday makes moments like this the scariest thing to imagine. He decides to wait another ten minutes to see if she calls back and when she doesn't is time for a new approach. This time he calls Garcia, " Hello Boy Wonder." He hears her voice ring out. "Hey Garcia, I'm sorry I know it's Sunday and we're not working but I can't get a hold of Melinda and was wondering if you can find her phone's location." "Are you sure she's not just trying to surprise you… Her phone is showing her at the Old Town Farmers Market in Alexandria." "Okay thanks Garcia." He says promptly before hanging up running to change and is out the door. 

20 minutes later Spencer is pulling into the parking lot, driving around looking to see if he sees Melinda's car. A few minutes later he spots it pulling up next to it. When he opens his door and exits his car the first thing he notices is her car door is slightly open. The next thing he notices is that her purse is sitting on the front seat next to the ajar door. Opening his phone and calling her again, he hears the phone ringing, it's coming from inside her car trying not to panic he calls Hotch. 20 minutes later the whole team has arrived after being called in by Hotch. Reid has spent this time assessing the scene but trying to move anything. The more he looked around the more likely it looked as if she was taken. The car is unlocked and the bags of stuff she picked up are in the backseat. Inside her purse her wallet and phone are still there so it wasn't a robbery. The last things he notices are on the ground next to the open door are her car keys and her engagement ring. 

The team considering this a kidnapping, are now trying to narrow down why someone would take her. "Could it be related to one of our cases. Has someone been released or recently escaped prison maybe?" JJ starts by saying "It could be related to her work when she was at Interpol." Emily is next to interject. Spencer is so overwhelmed he doesn't know what to do. "I should have been with her. I was supposed to be there." He says quietly but it makes everyone stop. "You don't know what would have happened if you were there. It could have been worse but you're here and can help us find her." Hotch tells him. The team is trying to find any leads but are just running into dead ends. Hours pass by and they are at a loss. "Are you sure nothing has changed Reid?" Hotch asks, this is the fourth time he had asked Reid the same question. "Have you been to any new restaurants, stores, any new contacts?" Spencer is starting to get annoyed with the question. "For the last time nothing has changed. It's not like we have a ton of extra time and Melinda likes routine, she likes having some sense of normalcy." Reid says in a huff. "Wait, something did change recently. You two got engaged a week ago. What if that is what triggered the unsub." Garcia says. "It would make sense they left the ring at the scene and with the timing it could be an ex who feels like they are running out of time now that you were planning on getting married." Morgan follows. Melinda had only ever spoken about one guy she dated and based on what she said it wasn't serious, but he didn't even know the guy's name. 

Spencer calls the only person who would know more about Melinda other than himself, her best friend Kristen. When she arrived and heard the news she became extremely worried and when they asked about the ex boyfriend she gave them his name but said it probably wasn't him. After looking him up and finding out he's partying on the other side of the country they mark him off the list. "Has she mentioned thinking someone may have been following her or seeing anyone suspicious?" Spencer asks, he feels like he would have known that Melinda would have said something but they have to cover all bases. "Um no, and she is kind of confrontational so even if someone was following her she would have said something to them." Kristen says, "but I know someone has been trying to reach out to her. Her name is "GG" Georgia Richardson, we all grew up in the same neighborhood." Spencer had never heard that name. "Mel has never mentioned her. Did they grow apart?" He asks. "Huh, oh no they are not friends Melinda hates GG. She was a bully and picked on her constantly. I was confused when she said she had been getting letters from GG. I thought maybe she was trying to make amends but Mel said she never even opened the letters she just tossed them in the trash." Now that Spencer remembers, Melinda throwing random letters away claiming them to just be junk mail. But now they had a new lead. 

Garcia was able to place a phone registered to Georgia at the farmers market at the same time before Melinda disappeared. Getting the location to her home the team is on their way there. Arriving at the home of Georgia Richardson they knock announcing themselves when they receive no answer Morgan kicks down the door and they head inside. Separating and checking the house they see no sign of GG or Melinda. What they do find is disturbing, in one room wall to wall is photos of Melinda going as far back as childhood and as recent as last week. "Well we got the right person, but where is she and where is she keeping Melinda?" Morgan says. They call Garcia to see if she may own property elsewhere while checking the rest of the house. While trying to figure out their next move they all stop at the sound of gunfire. It is coming from somewhere in the house. Going room to room looking for any sign of a trap door. Spencer finds a false bookcase with a heavy door behind it. Getting through the door just in time to hear a second gunshot Spencer and Morgan rush down the stairs to see Melinda with her back to them gun in hand having just shot GG in the knee. "Mel… Mel you're safe put the gun down." Spencer says. She hesitates before laying the gun on the ground next to her and wrapping her arms around Spencer. 

Melinda's POV

Waking up to the warmth of Spencer's arms wrapped around her she checks the time. It's nine thirty, a later wake up time for them but there's no work today and having argued from late night to around three am about Dr. Who it wasn't important to be up early. Sliding out of Spencer's grip she's up washing her face and brushing her teeth before climbing back into bed. She is absent-mindedly playing with Spencer's hair making a list in her head when she looks down to see his honey brown eyes looking up at her. "Good Morning sunshine." She says but receives no response he just reaches out to pull her into his body to cuddle. "You know as much as I would love to lay here with you all day, I have things to do." She begins by saying. "And you were supposed to join me but from the looks of it I'm not getting you out of bed anytime soon." Turning in his arms she kisses his forehead and climbs out of the bed. She makes a simple breakfast scrambled eggs, sausage and toast eating her portion after putting a plate in the microwave for Spencer for when he wakes up. She goes to the closet opting for a simple outfit jeans and a sweater with knee high boots. Lastly she writes a note for Spencer placing it on her pillow where he is sure to see it giving him one last kiss before leaving. 

Melinda preferred going to the farmers market for fresh produce. It was better than what could be found at the grocery store and since they were always on the go fresh produce goes bad quite often. Deciding to grab what she came for last not wanting to walk around with an armful of produce she wanders through seeing if anything peeks her interest. After an hour Melinda decides it’s best to get ready to head home. Finally picking out everything she wants she is putting her bags in the car when she hears a familiar voice behind her. Its GG, she had been sending Melinda bi-weekly letters for six months. Melinda wanted nothing to do with her not even to be polite about it. "Mellie, it's so good to see you. You know I've been sending you letters, I haven't heard anything back. I thought you might have moved." GG says in a chipper voice. Her voice was grating to Melinda. "Hi GG, no I haven't moved just didn't care about what you have to say to me now." She sneers, "but as you can see I'm busy so I should be going." Melinda says as she places her purse in the passenger seat. A moment later GG is standing right behind her pressing a syringe into her side. "Oh don't be like that… I've been waiting to have you all to myself." Is the last thing Melinda hears before everything goes dark..

Melinda wakes up in a dark room, trying to figure out her surroundings she is reminded of the conversation she was having with GG. That crazy bitch, where the hell did she take me. The next thing Melinda notices is a chain attached to one ankle leading to the footboard. She isn't wearing the same outfit she left the house in, she is now wearing a black nightie. The room is moderately decorated, nothing that can be taken apart to be used as a weapon or a lock pick at least GG was smart enough to think about that. There are no windows but two doors not sure where they lead. As quietly as possible she goes to the door closest to her. It's a bathroom and everything is just within reach with the chain attached to her. The other door is too far to reach. Melinda sits back on the bed tugging at the chain to see if it had any give, trying to plan out her next move. 

"Oh good you're awake. I brought you some food." GG says coming in from the other door Melinda couldn't reach. "Why the hell did you bring me here?" Melinda asks. "To take care of you of course. Your job is too dangerous." GG says not yet approaching. "To take care of me? We are not friends. And I don't need you to do anything for me." "We aren't friends because for all those years you were so attached to Kristen and then you left and when you came back all of a sudden you're with some guy. Some guy who barely knows you and I couldn't let you marry him. You belong with me. Don't worry you'll see things my way eventually." She says offering the tray gets within reach of Melinda but not a step further before promptly exiting. Melinda was so taken aback by her comments she didn't get a chance to respond. She was bat shit crazy. Melinda wonders if she remembers their childhood differently. If she was asked to describe her she would say GG was, queen bitch for as far back as she could remember GG had been a thorn in her side. From ripping her books apart and  pushing her into fountains in their early years to verbal slander and even once putting a spider on her in their teens. Melinda was thankful she didn't go to school with her but their houses were close enough that she still had to deal with her torment. Melinda did not have time to dwell on the past right now she needed a plan. She didn't know how much time had passed but she knew by now Spencer would be worried and looking for her but he wouldn't know where to look. She never mentioned GG or the letters, oh those damn letters what did she even write. Time to make a plan.

Hours pass by before GG comes back, in that time she had learned she is underground somewhere most likely a basement based on the steps she heard above her earlier. GG came back this time with a chair and a gun in her hand. Shit this isn't going to go well. Sitting the chair on the other side of the tray she set down earlier it's untouched; she has a seat staring Melinda down. "I didn't poison it ya know." She starts talking, "I just don't understand why you aren't happy to see me or why didn’t you never write to me? Didn't you miss me." She sure is putting a lot of emphasis on herself as if Melinda did something wrong. "What, have you had a brain injury in the last 6 years? We are not friends! We were never friends! We are never going to be anything!" Melinda yells without thinking, it wasn't her smartest decision to challenge the wacko with the gun. At Melinda's outburst GG's demeanor changes turning cold. "Oh is that so, you think you can just reject me and I would let you go? Well you're wrong because if I can't have you no one can." At that same moment they both hear footsteps above them. Melinda is hopeful that that is the team. But GG panics and makes a mistake moving away from the door looking at the ceiling, she is stepping backwards into Melinda's reach. In the time she had alone she ripped apart the sheets to use in the hopes to subdue her captor. Melinda takes a torn piece in hand wrapping it over GG and pulling her back into Melinda’s chest, Melinda tackles her to the ground. Pulling the gun out of her hand Mel turns and takes a shot at the chain freeing herself before climbing off of GG and running out of the room. The hallway is pitch black and while she is running, missing where the ground is uneven she trips falling to the ground. Gun still in she can hear GG approaching her, "You can't leave me! You're not allowed to leave!" GG yells in tears. "You come any closer and I will shoot you." "Mellie, we both know you can't kill me." That she was right about but Melinda had other plans, she aimed for her knee and took the shot. GG fell to the ground with a shriek. With the adrenaline flooding through her the only thing she could hear was her own pulse in her ears until Spencer came into sight. He was telling her to put the gun down. 

Sitting outside in the ambulance Melinda insists she is fine, a few scrapes and bruises, she doesn't need to go to the hospital. "Stop being so stubborn, just let them take you to the hospital and make sure everything is alright." Spencer says. "I'm fine, you're the only one that thinks I need a hospital." Once the EMT's clear her, he pulls her into a tight hug. After checking in with the team they head home. Spencer had been fretting over her since they got back, he kept asking if she was okay. Putting her hands on either side of his face pulling it closer to her, "Look I made it back and it's because I have you. Now please just lay down." Laying in bed together just enjoying the feel of each other's warmth trying to relax until Melinda says "By the way Peter Capaldi was a way better Dr than Tom Baker."

[chelsfic]

Chapter 3/18 - Safety - Bucky Barnes x OC Soulmate AU

Masterlist

A/N: I wrote this fic over the course of 2017-2018 and it was originally published on AO3. Recently, I decided to do some light revisions in order to fix inconsistencies in the POV, some awkward diction and typos. Please note–I’m aware that a lot of people love this fic just as it is. This is not a rewrite, I won’t be changing major plot points and I’m purposely leaving most of the writing alone. Just sprucing it up. Since I wrote this before I started posting fic to Tumblr, I decided to take the opportunity of posting the revised chapters here as I edit them. If you got to the end of this A/N: thank you!!!

Summary: Soulmate AU! Bucky/OFC. Our soulmarks appear at the moment of our soulmate’s birth. The Asset’s mark appears in the Spring of 1987. The words imprinted into the skin of his forearm. “Please! Don’t hurt me…”

Warnings: Kidnapping, Angst, Violence, Eventual happy ending

---

Sophie trudged through the door of her apartment feeling like her feet were made of lead. She was exhausted, confused, and emotionally wrung out. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. When you meet your soulmate you’re supposed to fall into each other’s arms, laughing, crying with the relief of finally finding one another. This was just...awful. She’d met her soulmate and lost him all in the span of ten minutes. She could feel the spark, the stirring of their nascent soulbond fluttering in her chest. But without being near each other she knew the bond would fade and die.

She spent a day and a half as a “guest” of S.H.I.E.L.D. After her nurse discharged her from the medical ward she was shuffled promptly into a glorified interrogation chamber where she spent hours answering questions about the previous day’s incident. They wanted the exact words spoken between herself and the “subject” as well as the nitty gritty details of her life leading up to this point. She sat in an uncomfortable chair, in a dimly lit room for hours while agents regularly shuffled in and out, repeating the same questions over and over. After about an hour of this Sophie grew defensive and demanded to know why she was being treated like a criminal. By the end she gave up, replying to their queries in a dull monotone until they finally released her. She was packed into a nondescript sedan and given a ride back to her apartment building.

Before she left her interrogators she joked, “So...I’m not getting the job am I?”

Once she made it inside her apartment she used her last remaining strength to lock the door behind her. She staggered over to the living room couch, collapsing downward and pulling her fuzzy throw blanket over her body before promptly falling into a deep sleep.

---

The agent dispatched to watch the girl’s apartment stood in the hallway dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. A tool box sat at his feet. He twisted a screwdriver through his fingers and waited, feigning interest in a broken light fixture whenever someone stepped out of the stairwell. He knelt to quietly rummage through the box, checking the ammo on the Glock he had stashed inside. He was crouched with his back to the wall and still the assassin got the jump on him. The Winter Soldier slid out of the stairwell soundlessly. He barely even disturbed the air of the hallway as he stalked toward the SHIELD agent. The scuffle that followed was almost totally quiet, like a fight scene in a silent movie. The end result was the agent’s unconscious body hastily stuffed into an unlocked supply closet. 

The assassin turned and stalked toward the door of the woman’s apartment. She’d decorated it with a floral wreath, the cheery shades of orange and pink at odds with the soldier’s black tactical gear. He flexed the metal digits of his left hand around the door knob, releasing the lock with a jarring crack before stepping inside.

The apartment was small, made even tinier by the placement of bookshelves along the walls of the living room. The shelves were stuffed to overflowing with books, magazines and various knick knacks that had no other home. The soldier’s long dark hair nearly brushed the ceiling, his hulking form seeming to fill the small space. He tensed, his muscles rigid in anticipation as he evaluated the space for potential enemies and escape routes. In a matter of seconds he had mentally cataloged and cleared the space. He pushed further into the living room and regarded the sleeping form of the woman whose words were imprinted into his flesh.

She slept on her stomach, one arm and leg dangling off the side of the floral print couch, a purple blanket tucked haphazardly around her. This was his soulmate? This tiny, soft, weak thing who slept through a breaking and entering? How? Why? Even as he mentally sneered at being tied to such a woman, the Soldier couldn’t deny the pang in his chest as he looked down on her. Soulbond. The word came from the recesses of his brain--from a time before.

He was considering the likelihood that she might sleep through an extraction when he felt the sudden flare of recognition in his chest. She was waking up. She curled in her limbs and released a mammoth yawn before opening her eyes.

---

Sophie emitted an undignified squeak upon waking to find a six-foot-something assassin, decked in tactical gear, innumerable weapons and a murderous facial expression, standing in her living room. Her heart hammered a mile a minute even as the tiny tug in her belly reminded her that this dangerous man was--apparently--her soulmate.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times as her brain struggled with the concept of language. For a long moment she simply lay there, curled on her side, the fuzzy purple blanket clutched in her hands. She counted four different lethal weapons strapped to his body and that was just what was obvious to her untrained eyes. Anxiety churned in her stomach even as she felt the warmth of the soulbond blooming within her. She was in no way certain of his intentions.

Finally, she sat up and spoke, “Hi.”

Well...at least it was something...

The man--the Winter Soldier, if her interrogators could be believed--didn’t respond. Sophie’s nerves went into overdrive as she waited through his silence. She watched quicksilver thoughts flash across his face. Finally, he relaxed his stance a bit and actually sat down on the edge of the couch beside her. She sucked in a breath, almost overwhelmed by his physical presence. He was so...big. And stern.

“You’re going to come with me,” he said, his voice gravelly and pitched low with just an echo of an accent that she couldn’t place.

“Oh um…” she trailed off. Her eyes flicked beyond his face to take in her front door leaning awkwardly ajar, the door knob hanging askew. She was in so far over her head. “Actually, um, we should probably get to know each other, right? A few of my friends have already met their soulmates and they all say it can be awkward at first--” 

He let out a scornful breath. She didn’t even know breath could be scornful! He seemed to be struggling with his words, like he wasn’t used to having to explain himself.

“You’re going to come with me,” he repeated before adding. “You’re...not safe here.”

With that he leaned forward to take hold of her, apparently considering the discussion over. Sophie tensed up and curled further into a ball. She could feel the confusion and aggravation rolling off of him--the bond already growing in just the few moments they’ve been near each other. She wondered if he could feel her fear. 

Apparently, yes, because he startled back as if scorched by the air between them.

“I’m not safe here?” she echoed, skepticism clear in her voice. “You’re the one who broke down my door while I was sleeping!”

Again with the stern silence. Finally, “You’re...mine. They’ll try to take you away and keep you from me.”

Sophie actually shuddered at the thought. Even if she was still partly afraid of this man--even though they’d known each other so short a time--the thought of being kept apart made her stomach twist. She felt an inexplicable bloom of affection and thought, not for the last time, How weird are soulbonds?

“Who’s going to keep us apart? S.H.I.E.L.D?”

He nodded. He seemed about to speak again when his head suddenly cocked to the side. His eyes narrowed and he unclipped a pistol from the holster on his belt. “We have to go now.”

He dove forward and threw her over his shoulder. This was getting ridiculous.

Tagged

@watsonwise​

[theawkwardterrier]

2018 fic roundup

Buffyverse

well tell her that I miss our little talks So Hurry Up and Lose Me, Hurry Up and Find Me (Again) Here We Are, Trapped (But Is It a Trap If I'm With You?) To All Our Histories Which Haven't Yet Happened

MCU

But A Walking Shadow Out of the Frying Pan Hand in Hand, Side by Side to walk to where you are sleeping To The Neighborhood Oh, But Aren't You Already My Darling? By Those Who Show Up Stitch Together In Spirit of the Season Childhood Friends

Veronica Mars

not just about being new (it’s about a change)

1. Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?:

Still not predicting, but probably around the predictable amount? I've gotten a little longer, I think, but I'm writing fewer stories overall, and I've really fallen into a few specific fandom categories - haven't added a new one in a while.

2. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?:

Dick/OC. Dick/anyone was a surprise. I'm generally frustrated and uninterested in Dick, so taking him on as a main character - when typically he's been a side role in my fic at best - is unexpected. I was just really drawn to the prompt.

3. What’s your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest?

I'm really proud of To The Neighborhood. I like the POV, I think the character flowed well, it has a particular tone throughout, and everything is built using small details without info dumps. And I'm always a big fan of domesticity too - sweet, settled life is always a joy for me to write!

4. Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

It's weird to say at this point, but I think I've been playing around with AUs a little too much. Here We Are, Trapped (But Is It a Trap If I'm With You?) and Hand in Hand, Side by Side are really prime examples of this: they aren't just timeline changes or ways of placing the characters in similar roles in non supernatural settings, they are way, way big and entire AUs. I really like them conceptually - ya girl loves a good (or not good!) romcom - but they are really quite out of the ordinary. I guess I learned that I kinda don't care - I wrote it because I liked it, and I had fun with it!

5. Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year?

Nah. I finished my Woman Borne sequel, which was the goal I had set at the beginning of last year, and I'm probably just going to resign my work on my too ambitious Chase/Cameron fic, so I'm good.

6. From my past year of writing, what was…

Story Most Underappreciated by the Universe:

But A Walking Shadow. I'm not afraid to say how sad I am about this. I'm really, intensely proud of this story: the writing is good, the characters are good, it's lengthy (for me), it's chapter fic, it's part of a universe I've already worked on, there's action instead of just Emotional Talking - it felt like I did everything right, and it still didn't make a difference.

Most Fun:

Hand in Hand, Side by Side probably - I like Steve/Peggy and a Virtue/Moir AU for them was a blast to write. But I actually had a lot of fun with a bunch of them!

Most Disappointing:

By Those Who Show Up is a little too liberal wonky - too much political talk, not quite enough emotional buildup. To All Our Histories Which Haven't Yet Happened is also a little exhausting and repetitive in concept and would have probably been better if there were more substance between the little stories, but I really like the title, so that helps it out.

Most Sexy:

Steve and Peggy end up in a bed and kiss there in Oh, But Aren't You Already My Darling? so ha ha ha, that is extremely sexy!

Hardest to Write:

They kinda ended up in either the "it took four days from beginning to final edit" category, or the "I'm afraid I might just be writing this for the next several years" one this time around. I took a lot of care with But A Walking Shadow, and I stopped writing Childhood Friends for a while to work on other stuff and there was a point where I couldn't make In Spirit of the Season not incredibly depressing and a piece of Peggy character assassination, but most of my Buffy fics were like this (well tell her that I miss our little talks was the exception - that's why it's listed as posted like three weeks before the rest of them).

Most Unintentionally Telling:

As I was writing In Spirit of the Season, I literally said aloud, "I think I might have something weird going on internally with motherhood."

Choice Lines:

From But A Walking Shadow:

The force of her fingers, the directness of her gaze: for a moment he fears that she is about to kiss his mouth with the desperate confidence he’d felt before he’d boarded Schmidt’s plane. But instead, she leans up and presses her lips beneath his ear. He shivers; he always does, there, and she knows that.

He just can’t think of the noise and the flames, the collapse, when his mind and heart and guts weigh so human inside him.

The anger is worn and so tired inside of him.

"I don’t want to kill you,” says the man, pushing the words out. The soldier's arm, built to last, built to kill, shakes at the thought that he will die gasping. “And I don’t want to die. And I can’t bring you to meet my family like this.” His frame trembles. His eyes are magnified, wide as the stars.

There is such future and fragility in yet.

He remembers the way she fit in two hands the first time he held her, how she sometimes trips downstairs and curls up sleepily in his lap when he comes back from a run early in the morning. He loves her so much. Finally, he hugs her. “Have a good day, sweetheart,” he says, and lets her go.

From to walk to where you are sleeping:

“Enough is enough,” she tells herself most mornings, when she wakes up gritty-eyed and already teary from dreaming. “Enough is enough,” when she wants to tell Steve about her day, when she spots hair like his from the corner of her eye, when she has another lonely cup of tea at her table, when she wants just a bit of his optimism to drive her onward. “It was two years out of more than twenty, it is time to be done with mourning, enough is enough.” And then one night she opens her eyes into the darkness of her bedroom and tells herself, “Enough.”

He is here, he is here: what fragile and disturbing joy.

She watched so many good people die - not just Steve, not just her brother, but the boys who came from her home village, and the sweet air force pilot she’d kissed on the New Year of 1940, and the lady who’d sold ice cream through the Blitz and been suffocated by an improperly constructed Anderson shelter - and perhaps she doesn’t have to turn her grief out of doors and lock herself up.

From To The Neighborhood:

For a moment, she regrets not having one of those emergency call buttons that her daughter Joan (Dr. Oglethorpe hasn’t been allowed to call her Joanie in years) recommends when she makes her monthly call from Columbus, or at least a cellular phone.

From Oh, But Aren't You Already My Darling?:

Steve rests his hands on her wrists, so gentle, and she wants to cry. “Peg,” he says quietly, “can you maybe track me down a pair of pants? I know my legs aren’t really working yet, but I’ve had enough of showing off in a hospital gown for one lifetime.”

From By Those Who Show Up:

“Hell yeah,” says Bucky. “I was over there ten years and only lost an arm. Six months of doing this with you and I’ve basically lost my life.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m thinning up top, Steve, I swear to God.”

From well tell her that I miss our little talks:

(Note to self: start organizing things on the kitchen calendar. Note to self: get a kitchen calendar.)

There's basically cartoony whistling sound, like her optimism is Wile E. Coyote falling off a cliff.

She hugged a pillow against her chest. She’d sign him up for a couple of community college mailing lists; maybe sitting in the back of some dense philosophy class would remind him why college wasn’t for everyone, or at least distract him. Her luck: he’d get all nerdy enthusi-Angel and just double down on the college fun talk. She really missed him. “Anyway,” she recalled herself. “I’m thinking maybe going all in on the spick and span could have something to do with you turning the dial up to Angel on the Broodometer.”

"....You’re allowed to think that you’re worth more than him, even if he was the one with the pulse.”

From So Hurry Up and Lose Me, Hurry Up and Find Me (Again):

Also, Angel has to be worried about being ‘busted, and not just in the Dust way.

How glad she is for him, knowing what he’s been through, knowing for herself how frightening it is to dangle unsupported and exhaust yourself hoping for a loving hand.

When Willow is like this, firm steps and a commanding voice, closed eyes as she puts a hand on the last sorcerer's shoulder, it’s hard for Buffy to hold in her mind Willow shy and sweet at sixteen. But then Will nods to Buffy, and without a thought, Buffy fells the robed woman. They’ve both changed. Neither of them will ever be sixteen again.

From Here We Are, Trapped (But Is It a Trap If I'm With You?):

“No. I’m counting on you to do the right thing for everyone, even if it might happen to include you.” 

From To All Our Histories Which Haven't Yet Happened:

“He was younger than I am now, and older than you would want to be.” 

From Childhood Friends:

Peggy, who had spent the afternoon she received the letter holding the hand of a boy - and he had been a boy - as he screamed and screamed toward death, had delayed replying, as she had not been able to summon a response to such grievances for nearly a week.

That she had spent her childhood at this very house with her dresses in a hopeless muddle and her knees insistently grass-stained, and that Steve had recently seen her in both a wrinkled nurse’s uniform after a night shift and indifferent mourning crepe below a tear-stained face, made her only more determined to put her best foot forward in this encounter.

...and Peggy concentrated on the feeling of his hand in hers, on the heat of him through his jacket, and felt despair and grave hope.

But her husband, who remembered a similar expression on his own mother’s face when he had professed his intention to marry Amanda, upon hearing whose surname even Charles II would have replied “Whom?” pulled her toward himself once more and said only, “Let them dance.”