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booksandwords · 1 year

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Turning Points by Megan Linden

Read time: 1 Day Rating: 4/5 Stars

The Quote: I freeze. The Eyes Guy. Oh my God. It’s the fan’s worst nightmare: your idol finding your on-line corner of the world where you sing their praises with different degrees of explicitness. — Tim

Turning Points is a well-balanced collection, worth reading. The couples are different in their makeups dynamics and settings while working with subversion of tropes in some of the stories. I got this free as part of a massive ebook giveaway right around the time it was published. I really wish more authors would do this, bring together their novelettes or novellas into a larger piece. Perhaps like Megan Linden did with an exclusive or new work in there. It allows for a better sampling of the author's style, an author may get more fans if they can see the author's various styles in a single affordable collection.

Open Endings

Real story is, don’t do this to yourself. I told you, no matter your reasons, serving the country, helping people, waving the flag, whatever, it’s not worth it. Find a better way. — Cole

Open Endings

is a slight subversion of the military trope. When we meet twenty-one year old Matthew he's about walk into a recruitment office, he just wants a place to belong. In the office he meets a jaded military man, Cole, who gives him the most unusual advice for the genre "My advice? Don’t do it.” (also the above quote). It's so unexpected when you read it at first but it suits Cole. The epilogue is not what I expected. Though there were always two options. It is a wonderful story about being comfortable in your own skin and figuring out what makes you happy in the world. Matt has an undeniable sweetness. Cole hit most of the marine tropes but given the brevity this piece that's fine with me. Together they are fire which I kinda didn't expect really, though I should have.

Tremors of the Past

“Good,” Derek said and realized he was completely serious. He didn’t want Hayden to be anything other than the guy who would shout at him in the classroom and trip over his own words trying to speak faster and faster as if he couldn’t wait to get to the rest of his rant. Derek had never met anybody else who would piss him off so much and make him respect them at the same time. — Derek

Derek and Hayden were a little surprising to me, also has a bit of subversion of tropes. I liked all of it, how it started, the relationship progression, Derek and Hayden's chemistry and the plot, such as it is. What I didn't like so much was the ending, not so much for Derek and Hayden HEA/HFN is almost guaranteed in these stories. It's more to do with the injustice or disrespect may be shown to Patricia and Candice. I kinda feel they both deserve a bit of an I told you so moment at that last breakfast to Derek and Hayden respectively. Rather than we just don't see them again. I know Tremors of the Past is very short but it feels like there was a better way to handle the ending rather than a bit of a dead drop. That is not to say I didn't enjoy the story overall, I did. I just feel something was a little off at the ending.

Impossible to Resist

@notquitespiderman: Word of advice? Never drink w/ @mandyandalbert, @cooperyup, @tangledtriangle and @ticktuckerboom. #ComicCon #CCWillBeTheDeathOfMe — Tim

Tim and Josh's story is the new story in the collection (the other three were published in 2015-16). Impossible to Resist feels very much like something that Megan Linden will pick up later. Particularly given the line "That’s the end of Tim and Josh’s story (even though, yes, their arc is just beginning!)." which concludes the section. This plays with one of those fantasy things all fans have thought of in the deepest parts of their mind. What would you do if you met your favourite celebrity or idol at a convention and they liked you back? Would you act on it? Would you compromise your relationship boundaries for them? What is interesting is the perspective, it's written in the first person combined with sns posts which feels unusual. Impossible to Resist feels right though. I really hope there is more of these two.

Running of the Edge

“You are my son, and I love you more than anything, but for fuck’s sake, how can you still be so stupid?” — Paula

When I was reading Running of the Edge got total Kiera Andrews meets Riley Hart vibes. Andrews has written 3 figure skating novels and Hart has written lovers to adversaries and back more than once (if you haven't read His Truth I really recommend it). The story itself is good. It uses the tropes and female characters well. Paula and Andrea the ladies of the story, feel like they are respected here more than in Tremors of the Past. Paula and Andrea are Eric's mother and his skating partner respectively, Paula is also Liam's co-coach and someone he is still close to. Eric and Liam were dating but Liam wanted to be out and Eric wanted to stay in the closet, essentially most of the story is them sorting their s*** out. While Liam and Eric are okay as characters but feel a bit, cookie-cutter athlete. It's made by the women. I really appreciate the stying of the epilogue.

#booklr #megan linden #turning points #short stories #read 2022 #ktreviews #book review

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foxymoxynoona · 1 year

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I’m sorry I’m in full study session so I barely touched my phone but I just got a notification YOU MET GRRM? AND YOU JUST SAY IT LIKE THAT?!? NO SUSPANCE? NO BIG DRAMATIC REVEAL? I hate but love that man’s mind so much. Was that 2013 in San Diego? One of my life goals is to go there for comicon😭 they have ACTUAL famous guests! The best we got in Naples a few years ago was Jerome Flynn aka Ser Bronn of the Blackwater who we LOVE but… no grrm🥲. Also would you recommend working at comicon? I was thinking of doing it but I’m not sure if I would just be jealous of everyone else being free of running around lol

(Also for the last anon that sent you an ask: let’s hunt him down together 🥲 i feel trolled about winds of winter at this point, I’ll pretend I don’t care anymore so it will come faster🤌🏻)

🌸

It was 2013, yes! and WOW that was so long ago when you just say it like that geez. Almost 10 years ago!! Waaaah I barely remember what life was like, I was such a baby then! I think that was also the year someone got stabbed in the eye with a pen at a Harrison Ford panel. I've gone to Comiccon a few times though so maybe I'm mixing up years.

I was working for my company demoing our game, so I'm not sure what it's like being actual event staff. I had a little bit of freedom to go to panels and walk the floor although it was so crowded I didn't much, and there were long lines everywhere. The staff always seemed happy though, and it is really cool to be walking along in the backstage area and jst constantly run into people. Every time you turn around, there's osmeone you've only seen in pictures walking by, it was pretty cool.

#🌸anon #asks

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

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Stories of Paris

Part Three

Part One Part Two Part Four AO3

Masterlist

...........................................

Dick stared at the photos on Bruce’s desk. He had been rummaging around desk in his office to find where Bruce had hidden his report. But he had gotten distracted by the photo’s had put on display. A bittersweet smile danced across his face at the sight of Martha and Thomas with a small Bruce. Warmth filled him viewing the one of him, Alfred and Bruce shortly after he arrived at the Manor. The third one. That one confused him though. It featured a young Bruce with a teenage girl dusted in flour smiling doing “ninja moves” in the kitchen.

For as long as Dick had known, Bruce had a permanent ban since forever of even entering the kitchen. He had obviously been baking IN THE KITCHEN without burning the place down. It frazzled his mind about that. Looking closer at the girl, Dick didn't recognise her at all.

Dick could place most of the Gotham socialites which Bruce knew and grew up with. He knew Oliver who Bruce had a friendly rivalry with from school. He was aware of the key people Bruce interacted with at W.E and in the JL.

This girl didn't fit into any of these categories. He couldn't place her at all. To have a photo of her, meant she was important.... and he knew her around his parents' death. So, who was she?

A polite cough brought Dick out of his thoughts to find Alfred staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I, I was looking for something Bruce left on his desk. Honest. No pranks either! Promise!" Dick rushed out, looking guiltily at Alfred.

"Is that the case indeed, Master Dick? I would suggest that instead then to wait until Master Bruce's home and he might be able to help you find it"

Dick knew that Alfred was subtly warning him to give up the search to avoid trouble. Dick needed a different tactic to distract Alfred to buy himself maybe a little more time to finish his quest maybe… hopefully…

"Alfred. Do you know who the girl in this picture is? I've not seen her before and it's odd!"

"Many things are odd in Master Bruces life, but I think you should ask Master Bruce that specific question Master Dick. It is the photo he chose to frame not I."

Alfred did pause at the photo and gently smile. It was clear to Dick that Alfred knew this mysterious person and was also fond of them. It was also clear that Alfred wasn't going to provide the answer.

"I suggest Master Dick we should leave the study for today and head back into the main Manor for some tea.”

Looks like his search was going to have to pause for the moment.

......

It was later that week when Dick finally found an opportunity to bring up the photo on his desk. Much to Dick's surprise Bruce lit up like a Christmas tree. He's whole demeanour softened and lost the harden edges and he, Bruce ‘I am darkness, I am the night’ himself, GUSHED.

"That picture is of Mari. She was my 'babysitter' so Alfred could get breaks.” Bruce rolled his eyes at the babysitter comment, but he did gain a soft smile. “She was amazing. Mari really helped me start to grieve shortly after my parents' death. The photo reminds me of her telling me stories of Paris while baking cookies. Where it all started."

"How come she never visits, and I've not met her?!" Dick pouted. Bruce talking so fondly of her, it was weird. The permanent cloud of gloom he usually shrouded himself in had gone.

"She's a busy woman running a company, finding time for visits is hard. We regularly talk on the phone though."

"Oh" Dick felt slightly dejected. This woman was clearly important to Bruce, but he never introduced her to him or vice versa in all the years he'd been living with Bruce. Also, the 'where it started' was oddly cryptic too.

"Next time she calls we can see if we can face time so you can meet her. I'd always wanted to introduce you in person. Have I ever told you about the time Mari and I got into a bet about who could decorate the most gargoyles on WE?"

"Nooo..." Dick replies cautiously.

“It’s how ‘Pinkie’ got his name and why you can still see bits of pink glitter on him. I’m still not sure what glue she used especially to be so effective...”

That evening Bruce told Dick these ridiculous tales of the mischief he and Mari got up too while Alfred wasn't there. It was hard to comprehend but for the first time in 5 years Dick saw a different lighter side to Bruce.

______________________________________________

Jason was curled up in 'his spot' in the library. It would catch the afternoon sun and create a warm blanket-esque feel. Like time pauses to allow him to escape reality. Today, instead of reading a classic, he was reading through a worn diary-like book he'd found while searching for a new Dickens to read.

The book was handwritten and almost childlike in style and language which intrigued the curious boy. It took a few pages to realise that this was likely to have been written by Bruce when he was younger. Maybe a similar age to Jason. The book read like a cross between a diary and writing a story. Some of the things a young Bruce was putting to paper were too weird to be true. A baby turning giant as wanted a lollipop?! A crocodile turning into a dragon?! Maybe Bruce wanted to be a writer when he grew up before he had decided on being a vigilante and CEO. The man was odd enough that it was a possibility. Jason did enjoy the heroes that were in the book. They seemed to learn on the job and didn't have an adult to boss them about and were powered by mini gods. So surreal.

Jason spent the afternoon devouring the stories of a young Bruce.

It was Sunday, and Alfred insisted on family dinner, Jason decided to teased Dick about if he got emotional, he would turn into more of a fashion disaster like an Akuma. Dick looked at the younger boy in confusion and Bruce paused.

"Where'd you hear that Jason?"

"In the book in the library B. You could have made a fortune with those stories. When'd'ya stop wanting to be a writer?"

"Book…" suddenly it clicked together in Bruce's head, and he smiled. "Those stories weren't mine. They were Mari's. She used to tell me all about what happened in Paris before she came to Gotham to study for a few years."

He softened, as he reminisced about the stories she told him. The adventures she described. He knew in hindsight she glossed over the horrors she'd experienced. She never hid them as such, just never went into the details. He now knew he saw it in her eyes, the misting over and faraway look reliving the pain, when she referred to the incidents.

Jason looked over to Dick for guidance. He'd never seen or heard Bruce act this way. It was weirding him out.

"Mari? As in Mari from *the photo*? Stories? You mean the kitchen antics you both got up to?" Dick asked, taking the lead from Jason. Even though Dick occasionally talked to her on the phone, he still couldn't really place her or understand that someone who was so physically distant had such an effect on Bruce. She seemed nice enough but the strength of Bruces attachment was odd.

"The photo?" Jason tilted his head in confusion. The Manor was filled with photos and knick-knacks. To know which one Dick was referring to specifically was a mystery. Jason was lost by Dick’s conversation direction.

"Yeah, Bruce has one of her on his desk. Like he has of us."

"Mari is family. Of course I'll have her photo on display. She was the one who taught me about found family. That I didn't need to be alone once after my parents, that I could choose my family. Why I *chose* you two. I had forgotten that I had written her stories down."

It was Dicks turned to looked at Bruce confusedly before glancing to Jason for clarification.

“I found an old book in the library which B had written. It’s about heroes and gods saving Paris from the original Mothman. B, well I guess, Mari, is an amazing storyteller. The whole story is so surreal. A new take on Alice in Wonderland sort of thing, Mothman created evil butterflies, Akuma, who took over a civilian and turned them into fashion disaster monsters which the heroes banding godlike powers had to defeat to save them!

The Akuma were forced into worse fashion than you voluntarily wear, Dick.”

Jason stuck his tongue out at his elder “brother” with his finally comment.

“Did I not tell you Mari’s stories that she told me when I was younger Dick?” Bruce butted in before the boys devolved into an argument about fashion. He really didn’t need to hear it when he got enough ribbing from Mari about some of the suits he’d worn to gala’s, he quite like not hearing more fashion “critique” at home.

“No Bruce!!! You’ve not told me about them!! I only found out about Mari by stumbling on her photo?! You claim she’s family, but you don’t seem willing to share her!” jabbed Dick. This woman was still a mystery to Dick (and now Jason) as to how she was so important to Bruce but was kept at arms-length from them.

With Dick’s reaction and Jason’s curiosity, Bruce after dinner took the book Jason had discovered and retold some of the stories of Paris Mari had told him. About the times she had taken him to ComicCon and had made them their cosplay outfits and maybe the small scene they had caused resulting in them being banned.

He also ended up having to promise the pair that next time she called they could get to talk to her. Jason was desperate to know more about Mari’s stories.

______________________________________________

Tim was rather animated at the dinner table this particular evening, Bruce noted. He was talking passionately about the meeting that had occurred in Bruce’s absence (thank you very much Riddler!!) which was highly unusual. Tim was trying to convince Bruce that they ‘needed’ to bring their European director to Gotham.

“She was *amazing* Bruce”, Tim stated with stars in his eyes, “I know it's all done by video conference and all. But her glare. It was such a bat worthy glare!! Every time the board members here tried to talk over me, she’d glare and call them out. It made them shut up. Every time they tried after that she’d raise an eyebrow they’d stop. It was just like Alfreds! And she listened to my ideas and then worked with me on how to adapt them to make it more profitable AS WELL as humanitarian. She didn’t treat me like a kid. Plus, all the statistics and reports show that Europe is W.E. best performing region. Please… please… pleeeaasseeeeeee Bruce can we get her to visit and like teach me her magic ways!”

“Tt - you’re begging behaviour Drake is a disgrace. It’s no wonder the board don’t take you seriously.”

Jason looked across to Dick and raised his eyebrow. Watching the Pretender and Demon Spawn verbal spar was the norm but seeing the Pretender beg at B was not what he expected when Dick had “insisted” that he visit for dinner for Alfred. Still, it was free entertainment alongside Alfred cooking.

“Her glares better than Batmans.” That seem to catch Bruce attention properly from the boy’s verbal jabs, “Who did you say was represent Europe at this meeting?”

“Ms DC? The European Director. Or that’s who she introduced herself as.”

The grin that Bruce gained was unnerving to those at the table which Alfred raised his eyebrow at. It was eerily like Damian’s when he is plotting their ‘downfalls’.

“I see that you met Ms Marinette then Master Timothy. It has been a while since she has visited. I would agree with your assessment Master Timothy for her to visit, but not for work, Master Bruce, I think I will get in contact to arrange for her to stay with us. She deserves a break from the chaos you cause her with W.E. As well as a proper introduction to your children you so regularly ask her opinions on, yet still seem to ignore her sound advice.”

Dick slammed his hands on the table. “WHAT!! You’re talking about MARI!! Bruce’s mysterious family?! The business you fob off me off originally was YOUR business!!! YOUR COMPANY!!! And Timmy got to meet her properly before ALL of us!! What the... Bruce!!!!!!!!”

Tim and Damian looked at each other in surprise at Dicks unexpected outburst.

“What mysterious family are you referring to Grayson? I am his family.... as well as you stray’s he has collected I suppose.” Damian gritted out.

“What Dickiebird is talking about Demon Spawn, is the reason we’re all here. Mari was his babysitter and introduced him to found family and like got him being semi human when he was younger. Bet he’s the train wreck of a person because she left.”

“Jason!” Bruce scolded, “Mari didn’t leave. She lived over here for years after finishing her studies. She took over the European office as a favour for me and to be closer to her husband. Apart from Alfred, she was my family after my parents died. You will not speak ill of her. She *is* family!”

Bruce looked over his chaotic children trying to decide if inviting Marinette over would be a wise idea after all. He hadn’t planned to let it get so far out of hand. He honestly thought he would introduce them much sooner than he had. But juggling being CEO (admittedly she had helped him so much with it), Batman (again she had assisted in training and sometimes as a sounding board), being a father to the rabble before him (who he regularly called to regale some amazing proud parent feat to her about or for parenting advice... which he may be a bit selective on actioning) he never found time to physically introduce her.

He spoke to her all the time that it sort have always slipped his mind that the boy’s may want to meet her properly. He knew Jason semi regularly was in contact with her after stealing her number from his phone when he first discovered her. It always slipped his mind Dick never did that. And given the workload that he might inadvertently ladened on her she probably didn’t have the time either. Especially if she took leave, it was to spend with her Parisian family. Maybe Alfred had a point.

“Alfred. I believe you are right. Mari is a gem that has dealt with a lot. Please contact her to arrange a trip over. I wish you all of Tikki’s blessings in trying to convince her to stay at the Manor rather than at a hotel. Oh, ensure that she uses our private jet, I do not want to inconvenience her at all. Also extend the invite to Kim. I know the pool isn’t up to his usual standards, but he’ll still have full access to the gym if he would like to attend.”

“Of course, Master Bruce.”

Tags:

@neakco @jayjayspixiepop @prettylittlebutterflie @lady-bee-fechin @corporeal-terrestrial

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eddieeatsass · 3 years

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Dick Likes Dick! - Reddie Fanfic

Happy Reddie Week, y’all! I’m so excited! For day one I decided to go with the prompt: “I’m Your Biggest Fan”. :)

Summary: Richie is a famous actor, best known for his horror movies. Eddie is his #1 fan, best known for his obsession with him. So of course, it's no surprise that Eddie would show up to meet Richie when he's slotted as a guest at Comiccon. What's a surprise to the both of them, however, is just how well they get along. Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak Rating: T

~~~~~

Richie hated Comiccon.

Well, that's not entirely true. He's sure he'd love getting to attend it as a guest; getting to indulge his inner nerd, empty his wallet on a bunch of shit he'd forget about in a week, maybe even dress up as spider man and scare his friends by attempting to scale the wall. Those sounded like memories he'd love to make.

But as one of the 'talent', he simply hated being there.

It wasn't that his fans weren't great, in fact, they were probably the best fanbase a C-list horror star could ask for, really. And the people who ran Comiccon were some of the coolest people he'd ever met, in fact if it weren't for his manager setting this all up a few years ago, he would have never met the director of NYC Comiccon and his very best friend, Beverly Marsh.

So, he supposes when he gets down to it, there isn't much to complain about. But his anxiety had tangled its roots around him long ago and made events like these insufferable.

He used to love attention, craved it like he craved water or food or mediocre one night stands you regret the next morning. But as he's grown, he'd begun to feel guilty at his meet-and-greets. Richie hadn't been honest with the world about who he was. The 'Richie' that his fans met was the carefully crafted image that his team agreed was marketable. He toned himself down, kept his jokes to a minimum, and didn't talk about his sexuality. In his manager’s words, ‘he was trying to get taken seriously as an actor, not a comedian, and not a gay-icon’.

(Though Richie isn't quite sure why either of those would be a bad thing.)

But he'd already agreed, signed the contracts in blood when he took on his management years ago as a young, naïve boy new to Hollywood. And at this point, so many years down the line, he’d probably have to do something drastic like sacrifice a goat just to break the contract. That sounded like way too much work.

Continue on AO3

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fanfiction #reddie fanfic #reddie week #reddie week 2021 #my posts #my writing

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neverwear · 3 years

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We made it to Writer's Kit #12!

This one comes with a gorgeous set of 12 postcards painted and designed by Paul Roman Martinez- a dynamite artist we met at San Diego ComicCon a few years back. Paul has illustrated each of Neil Gaiman’s 12 Calendar of Tales stories and put them into lovely postcard form. They came out so well, we are v. pleased.

We also produced an inky black stylus pen with rose-gold accent tone, with Neil's quote from American Gods: "A town isn't a town without a bookstore" imprinted in copper --isn't it the truth!

Man, I love little bookstores-- they are becoming harder to find.

Do you remember when Neil spoke about "making beautiful mistakes"...? Well, we have a big batch of mistakes from our bag supplier. We ordered these totes to sell, and when they came in, the text accompanying the Neil portrait from David Mack was unreadable...wah. #boo

We decided to just throw them in for free with the cards/pen set. They are a heather grey bag made from recycled cotton teeshirts with a silkscreened little Neil! They work fine as a tote, but we can't sell them, so enjoy these little collector items on us. At 15" x 15", they are big enough to fit a record album!

We are also throwing in a lucky Shire Mint Post "FreePress" nickel!

Last thing: We have 10 of these signed-by-Neil Sandman bookplates to add as a surprise in the kits- you may win one!

Here is a code to use over the holiday weekend to save $5: BEAUTIFULMISTAKE

www.neverwear.net

We will donate a percentage of the proceeds to our local library, the Los Feliz library, this librarian's daughter is a proud supporter.

#neil gaiman #david mack writing postcards bookstores recycle

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years

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Title: Going Through Motions{5}

Title: Going Through Motions {5}

Steve Rogers X Reader OFC Korral “Korri” Evans

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Violence, Blood

Word Count: 4K

Summary: You and Steve had a hot, passionate, and wild romance seven years ago when you worked with the Avengers. It was the best year of your life; you’d never felt the things you’d felt in all your life. Then out of nowhere, Steve just ended things—in a letter. A heartbreaking letter, then the world deemed him a criminal, and he disappeared. Now, you’ve moved on and have gotten engaged to rich man Marc Spector. Tony brings you back to work with the newly rebuilt Avengers that is still led by Captain America who is definitely done asking for permission and not looking for forgiveness. Or is he?

Note: So, for this fic, we are going to alter the MCU timeline a bit. This takes place after Civil War, but Infinity War has not happened yet. Steve is off the grid for seven years before he comes back. {I know that’s a long time, but let me rock please} Also, I’m going to be introing/adding in Moon Knight (Marc Spector) in just because I feel like it and I want to start exploring other Marvel characters and of course I will twist him to serve my purposes.

**Loosely Proofread/edited**

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

-Korral-

“What’s the situation?” Everyone looked around the briefing room at each other.

“Where’s Korral? Korral?” Tony spun around looking in every direction for you.

You could hear Tony asking for you. You were late, hell you almost didn’t even bother coming in. You walked through the door to stand before them. “You’re late?!” It was a mix of a question and a shocked statement. In the last seven years you’d never been late. You’d always been where you were supposed to be when you were supposed to be there. Clearing your throat you looked up from the tablet in your hands.

“Somehow the Pentagon is under attack. These surveilled images were taken.” You tapped your tablet and the images spread out on the screens ahead. A group of masked individuals dressed in full combat gear stormed through the halls shooting anyone they came across. A clip of a video played and the group of you watched six heavily armed men storm the military stationed massacring them with expertise.

“They look well trained,” Thor said. You nodded and continued tapping on your tablet as the information came to you. “Yes, I also noticed they looked to know the routine. They knew just when to attack and knew to take out this group of military,” you informed.

“You’re thinking they have an inside man,” Steve filled in. Gritting your teeth you forced any annoyance away. So what if he could still read your thoughts and finish them.

“Yes.” Tony stepped forward and tapped the side of his glasses, another image came up on the screen before it was paused. “She seems to be the one in charge,” Tony informed. You scanned the beautiful woman and wondered why all the pretty ones had to be the bad guys.

“Who is she?” Wanda approached closer to the screen and took a closer look. “We don’t know. What we do know is that she has powers,” you informed. Wanda smiled. “Not to worry so do I.” She balled her fists and the red rays ignited around her clenched fist.

“Be that as it may Wanda, everyone be careful, if she touches you she can burn right through you,” you warned. Wanda nodded and gave the image of the woman a determined scowl.

“All right, let’s get in the air. You walked over to Tony and held out small device that held a powerful kick. “Remember last resort, try not to bring the whole building down.” Tony smiled then tried to hide it before he cleared his throat.

“I don’t know why you’re giving it to me. Hold on to it.” Confused you looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Once he realized you looked confused he shook his head. “You’re coming. Suit up.” Tony walked away to the other side of the room and you couldn’t believe your ears. “What? She’s not coming,” Steve protested.

“Why the hell not?” Tony spun around facing Steve. “Are you kidding Tony, it’s too dangerous.”

Approaching the two men seeming to discuss your actions without you, you pushed though. “Excuse you. I’m not going Tony. You don’t need me, the gang’s all together again.” Tony scoffed. “Come on Korral, you’re part of this gang. As for you Captain, who do you think went on all the missions while you were prancing around in your seven years of captivity.” Steve looked to you, he didn’t know that. Ignoring his inquiring eyes you focused on Tony.

“Tony, you need someone running intel. I will stay here.” Pepper walked in holding a tablet. She stopped beside Tony and kissed his cheek. “All set?” Groaning you knew she was there to do intel. Tony looked at you as if he were waiting for you to continue. “The longer you stand here the more people die. I know that’s not okay with either of you, so choice is yours.” Tony and Pepper stood there waiting for you to decide. While Tony’s expression was smug and annoyed, Pepper’s was sympathetic or was it pity. You didn’t know which to be more annoyed with. You didn’t want to be pitied or sympathized with; there was nothing to pity or be sympathetic about. Grunting you turned and stomped away like a child.

You��d barely slept the last week since your encounter with Steve in the changing room. You’d also stayed away from the compound and strictly remained in the city to Tony’s annoyance. Something in you told you Steve wouldn’t want to come into the city for a while. You were right, you managed to not see him for the entire week. You were grateful for it because you were slowly losing your shit.

For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why you’d reacted that way to seeing the room destroyed and him bleeding. You didn’t know why you rushed to him like a concerned lover, or cared to help clean his wounds—self inflicted wounds. You couldn’t believe he’d done it to himself, that didn’t sound like the Steve you knew. Every time your mind flashed to his hand on your chin and lip you couldn’t stop the shiver that took over or the way your heart pounded. You’d let him touch you so intimately and you hated yourself for it. You hated yourself more for the fact that you’d had intense, dirty, and incredibly passionate wet dreams about him since.

So, you did the only natural thing. Suppressed and ignored it all. If you didn’t give mental space to it then it never happened. Once you’d dressed made your way to the quinjet trying to get your head in the game and off of the daydream of Steve’s fingers between your legs. Steve stood just to the side tinkering with a device on his wrist. When he saw you, you recognized the look on his face, you’d seen it hundreds of times and every time you had it did things to you.

“Finally, let’s go,” Tony called out.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Everyone spun around and saw Secretary of State Ross standing there with three armed military men.

“Where do you think we’re going dressed like this, ComicCon?” Ross rolled his eyes at Tony then looked at Steve. The armed soldiers walked behind Steve and stood awaiting orders. Steve glanced behind him then back to Ross. You saw the clench in his jaw and the anger in his eyes.

“I’m talking about him, Tony. He still has yet to sign the papers.” He was talking about the terms he’d set for Steve. “Ah, those papers. They’re somewhere in my office, I’ll send them over when we get back,” Tony lied.

“Good thing I brought another copy. As soon as he signs he can go.” Ross walked to Steve. Once in front of him he held them out to him. Steve didn’t bother looking down, instead he kept his eyes glued on the man before him. Neither of them looked as if they were backing down.

“Ross , can we do this another time? The Pentagon is—.” Ross fanned Tony off. “No. I am not going to have this one running off with yet another criminal when he deems it fit. There are rules and he needs to remember they apply to him.” Ross shoved the paper into Steve’s chest. The sound that came from him sounded like a growl and the butterflies began in your belly. The look on Steve’s face was a fierce one, one you didn’t recognize, one you liked a lot more than you should have. He took a step forward with a fist balled.

“Steve,” Sam began in a cautionary tone. It was enough to make him stop. The tension in the air was strong and so was the testosterone though you suspected that was all from Steve. God, he was fine as fuck like this. You had no idea what had come over you.

“Sign,” Ross reiterated. Steve took the papers and briefly skimmed them before he scoffed. “You must be crazy if you think I’m going to sign this. I’d rather die or rot in whatever chamber you’ve constructed thinking it can hold me. Spoiler, it can’t. You see there is something you don’t know about me Mr. secretary. You have no idea what I’ve been through these last seven years, no idea who I’ve had to become just to survive. The boy you and your government injected and created those decades ago is gone. The minute you put out a kill order on me and mine. This man before you, you’ve never met before and there is nothing that will get in the way of what’s mine again.” His eyes fell to you when he said the word “mine” and your heart leapt.

“You’ve got some nerve! You think all is forgiven because there’s a crisis? Again Steve scoffed and took the last step standing square in front of Ross. He was close enough for their noses to almost touch. The soldiers behind him stepped to him which prompted Sam, Nat, Clint, Vision, Wanda, Thor and even Tony to step forward to them. It was the ultimate show of solidarity and the best sign that all was mended with them. A smile tickled your lips that you couldn’t wipe off.

“Let’s get one thing clear. I’m not looking for forgiveness, and I’m way past asking permission. We’re here to fight, me included. If you want to stand in my way, we’ll fight you too.” Just like that you were turned on. This was not the same Steve you’d known. This man was a stranger. Steve ripped the papers in half and those halves into halves before he dropped them to the ground. He raised his eyebrows at Ross as if to say “your move.” Ross didn’t make a move. Steve turned to the soldiers and stared at them. Without needing to be told they stepped aside. Steve walked to the quinjet without another word. You didn’t know which alternate universe you were in. “Coming Korral?” Snapping out of your daze you hurried to the aircraft and took your seat and strapped in. Within seconds you were in the air and in stealth mode.

-45 minutes Later-

A few miles from The Pentagon you got a call from Marc, excusing yourself to a lone corner of He quinjet you accepted the video call. When his image popped up in the air you smiled. “Ooh, either it’s role play night or you’re off on a mission.” You scoffed and shook your head. “We’re closing in now. I know we had plans but I don’t think I’ll make it.” Marc smirked and nodded. “Yeah I figured. It’s okay honey I was calling you to—.” Your video connection ended with a red “signal lost” message. You sighed and rolled your eyes. When you looked back you saw Steve’s eyes on you and it rattled you. You walked over to the weapons wall and decided to load up. After a few minutes you felt him standing beside you as he pretended to look for a weapon.

“Korri—,” he began. As you cocked one of the guns you paused. There was a time you loved hearing him call you that. Now seven years later it reminded you of everything he threw away, everything he didn’t want with you. Now the name caused you pain but you couldn’t lie it also made you fiercely want. “I told you, it’s Korral.”

“You used to love when I called you Korri, hated Korral, at least from me.” Glaring at him you raised the gun you held before you slowly dropped it into your holster. “Times change.” You turned back to the wall and continued the task at hand. “When we get down there thing are going to get crazy. Watch your left, keep me or Sam in your sight. If you get into trouble use our signal.” You didn’t know what you hated more, the fact that he thought you were some defenseless, useless creature, that he was telling you what to do like he was your captain, or that he remembered the signal between the two of you and had the nerve to bring it up. It could have been a mixture of all three that had you seeing red.

“And who are you exactly? You may be Captain America the first avenger and the one everyone seems to love, but don’t you get it twisted you’re not either to me.” Hurt radiated through his eyes. He looked down to the floor, clenched his jaw then rolled his shoulders back. You turned from him and continued what you were doing. “I’m just trying to look out for you.” You scoffed and loaded a set of dangers onto your holster.

“Now you’re looking out for me. Look, I don’t need you looking out for me. I can more than take care of myself.” When you turned to walk off he stepped in front of you blocking your path. “What’s that supposed to mean—now?” When you didn’t answer he took another step to you invading your personal space. You could smell every component that made him up including the leather that clad his perfectly sculpted body. Jesus, you thought how was it possible for him to be even more intimidating. Before he was an alpha because he was created to be one, created to be superior now he was an alpha because that was all that emulated from him. Every electron firing of his hard body told everyone within a one hundred mile radius that he was top dog.

“Everything I’ve ever done was to protect you Korri—everything!” He spoke through the tight clench of his jaw, on the last word he gripped your arm as if to emphasis the depth of his meaning. Once he touched you your heartbeat picked up again. You stood there for a few moments just staring in his eyes. His blue eyes were an intense shade of blue. He looked serious as if he meant it or believed he meant it. From the side you hear a loud exaggerated sound of someone clearing their throat. You pulled your arm from his grip and walked away to the others who were waiting for the two of you. Tony finished the brief with up to date information and then the doors opened. All was quiet.

In a careful sequence everyone split into two groups with the exception of Tony and Thor who took to the sky. Wanda, Vision, and Clint went right which left you, Steve, Nat and Sam. You had every thought to just go out on your own but knew that was stupid. Steve took lead and glanced behind him locking eyes with you as if to say, “don’t test me”. Once you’d maneuvered across the lawn to the only entrance you all lined against the stone wall.

“You know this is probably a trap entrance right. They’re all probably waiting ready to shoot,” Sam theorized. “You sound scared, Sam,” Nat joked. He only scoffed and shook his head. “Never scared, ready when y’all are.” Nat and Steve looked to each other and nodded. “Let’s smoke em’ out,” Steve said. Nat dug in her leather jacket, ran to the door and tossed in the small device. When she came back you inserted the nose breather as did the rest of them.

From inside the explosion rang out. Steve nodded and the group of you ran inside the gas filled building. The four of you saw bodies littering the floor, those who’d succumbed to the effects of the nerve gas. Ahead you saw a group of armed assistants quickly approaching. “Let’s get to work,” Steve said. Each of you went off to meet them. Focusing on the man in front of you, you quickly disarmed him and dropped him to the ground and moved to the next.

Almost five minutes later the four of you met at the stairs before you filed up in combat formation. Steve led the first ascend before he stopped at the bottom of the next flight to have Sam lead it up while he watched your backs, then the next in line followed the formation. When you’d made it to the fifth floor you were leading you rounded the steps then slinked back when you saw two men there guarding the door. Signaling to them the situation you reached in your holster and took out a small piece of tech. You tapped into the watch you wore on your wrist and the tech came to life. You programmed them to forge ahead and do your dirty work. The two bodies dropping was the signal you needed when you climbed the steps. Steve looked down and saw their eyes gouged out.

“Damn, what kind of tech is that?” You smirked at Sam. “I call it kiss of death, it’ll daze you long enough for it to disrupt the brain’s neural function, causing the brain to melt.” Sam looked disgusted, Nat looked impressed and Steve looked amused. “Nice,” Nat expressed as you opened the door. Sam looked down to the victims and shook his head. “That’s cold.”

The four of you took your time advancing through the building taking down any threat in your way. Nostalgia filled you, you’d always worked well together. You were beginning to have fun and it took away from anything else you felt. With each advance you made the more you saw Steve in action, he moved with a confidence that was more attractive than anything.

When you rounded a corner you saw Wanda, Clint and Vision in the middle of fighting a group of armed men, the chaos around provided enough of a distraction for the woman you saw in the surveillance video to make a mad dash down the hall in the opposite direction. Thor dropped in front of her fully electrified. “Going somewhere?” The woman glared at Thor before he propelled his hammer ready to fling it at her. She jumped into the air and clung to the pipe before it dissolved in her hands. She aimed the pipe to Thor and steam swarmed around him. It was enough to distract him for her to kick him and make a move for his hammer. When she touched it and attempted to take it the hammer dropped to the floor. Thor smiled. “You’re not worthy!” With that he kicked her sending her across the hall to land in front of you.

She quickly sprang to her feet, your eyes zeroed in on the canister she held. Recollection rang in your head; you’d seen it before. You quickly scanned your memory and after a few seconds you remembered. She must have seen when you did. As if in slow motion she grabbed the weapon from one of the men that were fighting and aimed it to you at the same time you were lunging for her. Once you saw the gun aimed to you, you looked to Steve who was already making a move to intervene. “Korri!” Just like that time resumed and she fired the machine gun.

Suddenly you were wrapped in a tight cocoon and the sound of ricocheting bullets rang out around you. You looked up into Marc’s eyes. “I don’t think either of us will make those plans, honey.” You smiled; the firing finished. He lowered his long cloak. You saw Steve standing there with a look of sheer terror on his face. From behind him you could see the woman approaching him with her hand outstretched. “Steve, behind you!” You began running to him flipping through the air. You reached into your holster and threw one of the daggers. The dagger went through her wrist stopping her before she could touch him. Her pained scream echoed in the hollow hall. You landed in front of Steve and kicked the woman sending her to a waiting Tony who confined her hands into metal enclosed shackles. You could see the canister to the side. Bending you took it up and examined it, sure you knew what it was.

“You think you’ve won?” You held it up. “Who do you work for?” She looked at you with pure hatred, but she didn’t speak. “That’s fine. We have other ways of making you talk,” Tony said before pushing her forward to walk. Steve approached and stood beside you. The two of you looked at each other but didn’t speak. It felt like there was so much to say but nothing at the same time. You saw Marc approaching and looked away. “Are you all right?” He touched your cheek, his concern clear on his face. “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks to you.” He put his forehead to yours. “No thank you needed, you’re my heart Korral.” He kissed you softly. When he pulled away you saw Steve still stood there watching. Your stomach fell and your nerves took over. Marc looked to Steve. “Good work, Captain.” Steve looked to you and you saw pain in his eyes. You didn’t know why it effected you, but it did. You wanted to vomit. “You too,” Steve said. He walked ahead leaving you standing there with Marc. You felt like shit and you hated it. He should feel like shit, you thought.

Once you all made it back to the lawn near the quinjet the ball of nerves in you still hadn’t faded and neither had the feeling of being scum. “I’ll get that back to the compound,” Marc offered as he took the canister. “Okay.” He kissed you again only this time with much more passion. “Be careful, I haven’t gotten you down the aisle yet, I can’t lose you.” You forced a smile. Marc kissed your forehead before he levitated off the ground and into the air before he created a small sonic boom in the sky before he torpedoed out of sight.

You walked to the jet; Steve stood on the open hatch watching you. You wondered if he’d watched the exchange between you and Marc just now. He didn’t look angry, he was unreadable. A grenade rolled in front of you just then. “Grenade!” You shouted before jumping out it’s way. You hadn’t jumped far enough, you got caught in it’s blast radius and went flying. Your body landed on the ground and pain radiated through you. You could hear gunfire all around you. But you couldn’t see anything through the smoke. You groaned and tried to find your equilibrium but every time you made an attempt to stand you dropped back to the ground. Pressing your head to the dirt and grass you groaned suddenly you felt a heavy body beside you. Panicking, you swung out unable to make out the hazy figure.

Blinking your eyes again what felt like the fiftieth time they slowly focused and you saw Steve in front of you. His lips were moving but you couldn’t hear a thing. He pulled up to to stand and from behind him you could make out the figure of someone holding a gun. You didn’t know who it was but when they got closer you realized it wasn’t a friend. “Noooo!” You lunged forward pushing Steve behind you, but that is not where he stayed. In a haze he flipped you to the ground just as the gun went off. That is when your hearing came back, Steve grunted in your ear and you knew he’d been hit. Suddenly the two of you were being lifted into the air. You could see the red rays of Wanda’s magic underneath you. It wasn’t until you both were inside the hovering latch did the rays fade and the speed of which the jet took off made you lung backwards onto Steve.

“Shit, he’s been hit!” Nat rushed over with the first aid kit, you could see his red blood wetting his suit. In your hesitation Nat took over and took care of his wound. Everything crashed onto you then and all you could do was sit on the floor of the quinjet as a plethora of emotions stormed through you.

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

TagList:

@quitepointless @yourwonderbelle @caramara3 @kaetastic @toniilaney@cltex84 @wildmindedbeauty32 @bellaamor88 @periodtcevans @peach-acid @queennanayaa @alyxkbrl @disneysdarlingdiva @useless-mork

#going through motions fic #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x black reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #angst fanfic

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featherquillpen · 5 years

Note

I miss you in Leverage fandom, so I’d love a scene from that mortal!Eliot with fae!Parker and fae!Hardison story you mentioned once. (Bonus points for incorporating the folklore about mortals being bound to Faerie by its food, since food is Eliot’s love language.)

Changelings

One of the best ways to con people is by telling the truth.

Parker and Hardison will never be the grifters Sophie wants them to be. But they do their best, given their limitations.

Like when Hardison told Nate, “I bounced through five sets of foster parents until I ended up with Nana.”

Like how Parker doesn’t talk about her childhood at all.

I. Hardison

“I hate humans,” Parker said to Hardison when they got back from the orphanage job. “I should have brought those kids through a ring to the Other Side.”

It’s the first time Parker has acknowledged what they are out loud. They’d both known, of course, seen the signs: careful lies of omission, a wariness of iron. Hardison had tried to bring it up, sharing a hazy memory of the daughter of an orisha and a faerie queen, born when the stories of European invaders did battle with the stories of West Africa hundreds of years ago – he thinks she might have been his mother, but she’d traded him away for a human child anyway.

(“I don’t talk about that stuff,” Parker had said, with an air of finality.)

“They’d have to send over just as many faerie kids to keep the Balance,” Hardison said. “And you know that ain’t fair. Besides, you don’t hate humans.”

“Yes I do,” Parker said. “I blew up my foster parents.”

(Hardison has met other changelings. They call the humans who raised them their parents. Hardison and Parker say “foster parents,” except when they talk about Nana. Sometimes the human children get the better end of the bargain.)

The door opened. Eliot said, “Parker. I need backup at the casino.”

Parker nodded and leapt out of her office chair. Hardison grinned at her. She flicked her ponytail at him as she turned and left.

II. Parker

“We have to tell him,” Parker said while Eliot was in the kitchen plating the first course. She could smell something rich and savory, like warm dark oil.

“We don’t have to tell him anything he won’t even believe,” Hardison said. “None of my siblings at Nana’s house ever believed it, and I did all kinds of weird-ass – ”

“Sophie believes it,” Parker said.

“She what?”

“I didn’t mean to tell her but she got all Sophie at me! First she gave me grifting lessons and she tried to make me lie and realized I couldn’t,” Parker said in a rush. “Then she realized you can’t either. That’s why she always introduces us with our fake names, so we don’t have to say them. She didn’t know why at first but she kept guessing and finally she said we’re fae. I told her it sounded silly but she said ‘tell me I’m wrong’ and I couldn’t. But she hasn’t snuck me iron or made me tell the truth about things I don’t want to. So Eliot wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.”

Hardison said softly, “I never thought he would. That ain’t our man.”

Eliot came in with bowls of steaming consommé garnished with parsley. The look on his face, you’d have thought he knew he was serving a lost faerie prince and a daughter of the Unseelie. Hardison said, “That smells so good, you have no idea. I must have made some kind of good choices in my life to deserve this.”

“You wouldn’t know a good choice if it smacked you upside the head,” Eliot said. “Which is what I’m gonna do if you let this soup go cold.”

When their bowls were empty, his hospitality accepted, Parker said, “Eliot, you know we never lie to you, right?”

“Technically we don’t lie to anyone,” Hardison said. “I don’t know if you, uh, noticed – ” At Eliot’s raised eyebrows, Hardison seemed to remember that he was talking to one of the most observant men in the mortal realms. “Right. Yeah.”

“Technically we don’t lie to anyone, but we really actually don’t lie to you,” Parker said.

Eliot’s mouth went soft in that way that wasn’t a smile, a face Parker always knew she could trust when everything else seemed confusing and fake. “I know.”

“So we’re going to tell you something weird but you have to believe us,” Parker said. “Because we earned it.”

“A hundred times over,” Eliot affirmed.

Hardison and Parker exchanged a look. Hardison nodded. “Okay, so it’s like this. It’s true we’re both kids who got kicked around the foster care system. It’s just that we didn’t get given up by who you might think…”

III. Eliot

They thundered through the faerie ring in their fine raiment, riding impossible steeds.

The faerie queen rode a camel patterned black and white like a magpie, her head wrapped in indigo cloth and starlight. The Unseelie raven girl wore a trail of clouds and feathers, and her horse’s breath steamed white even on a summer day in Portland. Eliot wouldn’t have known who they were if not for the children clinging to their waists, who would have been perfect miniatures of Parker and Hardison if it hadn’t been for their eyes, flat without that dancing light he’d come to understand was from another world.

Hardison jumped up from the picnic blanket. “Oh God oh God oh God. I knew the whole fresh air thing was a bad idea. Fresh air means woods, and woods means faerie rings, and faerie rings mean twelve kinds of trouble. Where is the damn car?”

Eliot reached up and clamped a hand on Hardison’s hip. “Don’t show fear.”

Parker was in a crouch, watching the faeries ride out from the treeline. Hardison said, “How do you know how to act around a faerie queen?” But he didn’t flee.

“I know rulers. Warlords.” Eliot looked up at him. “I knew Damien Moreau. He stole children too.”

The faeries stopped before the picnic blanket. The grass around them frosted over, and the light fell on them silvery like moonlight instead of golden summer sun. “We’ve come to claim our children,” the queen said.

“What do you want us for?” Parker spat, still in her predator’s crouch. “You didn’t want us. You traded us away.”

“Legends of you have reached even the faerie realms, daughter,” the raven girl said, the words misting in front of her mouth. “It seems we made a bad trade. Fortunately, we can trade to get you back.” She hoisted the stolen human child in her arms. The child stared, flat-eyed, as if she hadn’t understood.

“No way am I going back there,” Hardison said, looking nervously at the swirling blackness rising up from the faerie ring. “I don’t remember it all that well, it was a long time ago, but I am totally sure y’all don’t have Netflix, and that is just not acceptable.”

Eliot reached for Parker’s hand, staring certainty into her fae-lit eyes. She took it. They stood, proud and defiant. “You have no claim on them,” Eliot said. “I do.”

The queen thundered, “They are our blood, born in our realm! What claim could you possibly have?”

“I welcomed them to my table, and they ate my food from the mortal realm,” Eliot said. “I claim Parker and Alec Hardison.”

The Unseelie fae tasted the air with her tongue, like a snake. “You are no being of power. You are only a mortal man. I can taste death on you. Changeling children all eat food made by mortals, and they are not bound to this realm.”

Fear clutched cold at Eliot’s heart, though he refused to show it. Parker and Hardison told him about faerie law, and he knew his claim abided by it. But he couldn’t quite believe the faeries would follow the law instead of declaring themselves above it, as every other warlord Eliot had known would do. He kissed Parker on the mouth, tasting chocolate, a final goodbye if her mother stole her away.

“The way I understand it, if a human goes to the Other Side and accepts the hospitality of the fae by eating their food, they’re bound there forever. Changeling children aren’t bound to this realm by our food because if we welcome them as the humans they were traded for, we don’t know who they really are, so it’s no true hospitality. I gave them my hospitality knowing full well who they were, and they accepted it. I claim Parker and Alec Hardison.”

“You can only claim our children by their true names,” the faerie queen said. “Your claim by their false human names has no power.”

Fear dried Eliot’s mouth and rooted him to the spot, but still he refused to show it. The children the faeries had stolen in trade for Parker and Hardison were changed from their time on the Other Side, and if the faeries traded them back, they might not survive here. Eliot kissed Hardison on the mouth, tasting candied fruit, a farewell for him if the queen his mother stole him away.

“Hardison,” Eliot said, still looking him in the eye. “Tell the lady you’re Miles Morales.”

“You know I wish I could,” Hardison said. “I cosplayed as him at ComicCon – ”

“ – I know, your costume crap was all over the place – ”

“ – but I can’t, because I ain’t him, and that’d be a lie.”

Eliot placed a hand to the back of his neck, drawing him down. “Tell her you’re Alec Hardison.”

Hardison – Alec – swallowed hard. He turned slowly from Eliot’s eyes to the queen’s fathomless ones. “My true name is Alec Hardison.”

The queen hissed.

From the raven girl’s arms, the girl exchanged for Parker spoke, her voice high and piping but precise. “If you claim them a third time, they will be bound forever to the mortal realm, and they will die as mortals.”

Eliot’s throat closed up. He’d promised he’d protect Parker and Alec until his dying day, but he couldn’t ask them to die for him.

Alec took Eliot’s hand and kissed him on the cheek. “I’d rather die with Eliot than live forever in Crazy No Internet Child Stealing Land,” Alec said. “Y’all want us back because we’re legends. Eliot just wants someone to cook dinner for when he comes home.” His kiss glowed warm on Eliot’s cheek like a beam of sunlight.

Parker took Eliot’s hand and kissed him on the forehead. “I always knew I’d die here. That’s what makes it so important to do the right thing.” Her kiss felt as heavy on his forehead as the impact of hitting the ground from a height.

“I claim Parker and Alec Hardison as my own.” Eliot glared at the faeries. “Now get the hell out of our city.”

#leverage #leverage ot3 #my fic #litluminary

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the-demi-jedi · 4 years

Text

Hello there! I want to share a story I’ve written for a local short story contest. The topic was “The Last Day on Earth”. I’d love to have some feedback from y’all, so if you could spare twenty minutes, it would be great!

Title: The Last Day Word count: 4200 (appx. six pages) Genre: Thriller, romance, mystery Trigger warning: None that I know of. If you notice something, please let me know! Summary: Dan’s life seems to be perfect with his loving wife, well-paid job and a peaceful home. However, his ideal world has been upset by a message from an unknown sender. Who is the person who seems to be threatening him? And is Dan himself the person he believes he is?

The story is a translation from Czech to English, some errors are possible probable :)

Continue reading below!

I know that not many people say this, but I really love my life.

It's already getting dark outside and I finally see my home in the distance. With a smile on my lips, I start to stride towards it faster than I already do. Today was one of the days where I had to visit my workplace personally, as I usually work from home. The genetic lottery rewarded me with a talent for learning languages, including those used for programming, so I make my living as a translator and a programmer. Since I work in two fields, I always have a commission to work on and I can't complain about money - it's enough for me to live comfortably and to the fullest.

I open the wicket in our fence and walk through the garden, beautiful and manicured thanks to my wife's almost motherly care. I approach the main door. As always, I'm greeted by a wooden plate with Dan & Anna engraved on it - it is also a result of my spouse's creative outburst. I know she feels the happiest when she has an opportunity to create something.

I unlock the door and walk in. As soon as I hang my coat on the hanger, Anna is already rushing towards me, standing on the tips of her toes and greeting me with a gentle kiss.

At first glance, Anna is a slight, a bit plain girl. Her dark hair, contrasting with her fair skin, reach her waist. Her big, gray eyes are further magnified by the eyeglasses she's wearing. Yes, we are both adults. But every time she smiles at me with her trademark shy smile, I have butterflies in my stomach like an infatuated teenager.

"I missed you," she says, grabs my hand and leads me towards the kitchen, now filled with some exotic smell. Anna's creativity is undeniable even when she's cooking - and she's always overjoyed like a child when I find her meals tasty.

Even now, her face hardly contains excitement when I wolf down her creation. We talk through the rest of the evening. I usually talk about my work, she enthusiastically introduces me to her new project - a new painting in progress, a short story she started writing yesterday... all while wearing a sweater she knitted herself.

Her bright mind just never stops - and that's one of the many reasons I love her so much. I've dated two girls before her, but with Anna, I feel a true connection for the first time. A hopeless romantic would talk about soulmates. And they would be right. Our personalities complete each other, but we have common hobbies and hopes for the future.

Anna is twenty-four. I met her when she was nineteen and I've spent the most beautiful years of my life with her. We traveled around the world before we finally settled in a nice town in Canada. We are planning to get a dog and then, when the time is right, a child.

We watch a movie after dinner. We don't have the usual disputes of a married couple, like "I want an action splatter while she insists on a rom-com" - we always agree on some nice sci-fi or fantastical movie. After the opening music, Anna grabs my hand and moves it on her head. I smile - it's our own little game. I hold her close to me and start to stroke her hair. Soon, she starts to purr like a content kitten.

As I walk towards the bedroom after the movie ends, I check the calendar on my phone. By presenting and submitting it to the client, I have finished a project I've been working on for a long time - good thing the client paid me accordingly. Satisfied with a job well done, I cross the project off my schedule.

The deadline for my next project, a dull translation of legal documents in Korean, is in three months, so I can feel free to forget about it for a few days. Maybe I could take Anna somewhere tomorrow, perhaps for a dinner out.

Or maybe I could forget about the work for a week and take her for a trip to the mountains. A few days in a cozy, romantic cabin? Why not. I could always catch up with the commission later.

"You're up to something, right?" Anna, dressed in a nightgown, smiles at me with her eyebrows raised. "I know that thoughtful face very well!"

"Maybe I am, maybe I am not," I reply.

"Tell me!" she squeals and attacks me with the full force of her one hundred and fifty-five centimeters. She knocks me down on the bed and we both burst into laughter. Despite the torture techniques she uses on me (tickling, for example), I don't break. It will be a surprise.

An hour and half later, I fall asleep; Anna's quiet breath creates a pleasant ambiance. I'm looking forward to the upcoming days. No work; no Korean symbols and no Cyrillic to translate. Just me and my beloved.

I really do love my life.

...

When I wake up the next day, Anna is already in the kitchen, conjuring up the breakfast. She has always been an early bird. I hear her soft, high-pitched voice singing as she cooks. She's far from a perfect singer, but to me, she sounds like a perfect symphony.

When walking into the bathroom, I can't avoid looking in the mirror. I always wonder how did I manage to charm her so much she was willing to marry me even though I look like a typical computer nerd: skinny, not too tall, with a goatee and a hipster-style haircut. The people mostly guess I'm that kind of bachelor who dwells in his man-cave situated in my mother's basement.

Well, it's not that Anna and I don't have a gaming cave. When she's gaming and going through a tough part, she can be really noisy and only pieces of chocolate placed into her mouth can stop the foul words she sometimes uses. I am that type of calm, level-headed gamer.

Before I set the course towards the kitchen and my wife, I check my phone. My lockscreen wallpaper is, of course, my photo with Anna. The picture was taken at the ComicCon - I'm wearing a costume of Lord Revan and she's my Bastila Shan. I didn't have to push her into that. In fact, the costumes were her idea.

A notification is covering a part of the photo: 1 new message.

I roll my eyes. If it is a new client, I can forget about the trip to the mountains right away.

My annoyed face changes to surprised once I notice the sender's ID is set as Private number. And then, after reading the message, I feel only fear and confusion.

This is your last day. Prepare for the departure.

What the hell is this supposed to mean?

The timestamp tells me the message came at three in the morning.

Is this a threat? Am I the next victim of a serial killer with a wicked sense of humor? I stop and think. I have no enemies, if I don't count Anna's parents - it's no surprise they imagined their daughter's future spouse as a banker or a successful entrepreneur. However, after they found out I can take good care of their girl, they warmed up a little.

I hyperventilate. I read those two damned sentences over and over again.

"Dan! The pancakes la Francé are done!" I hear Anna chirping in the kitchen.

"Just a minute!" I reply with muffled nervosity in my voice.

Should I tell her about the message? I don't know. We promised each other we won't hide any secrets. But she would go crazy if I told her. She's an alarmist prone to panicking. I can vividly imagine her screaming into the phone while calling the police, hugging me and hysterically wailing about not wanting to lose me.

Maybe I should involve the police. It's not a direct threat, but how else can I interpret it? Wait. Maybe I've just forgotten a commission and the client is reminding me. However, it wouldn't explain the "departure". Moreover, I meticulously note every new commission I receive. Anna, who is a chaotic, often mocks me for being too organized to the point my schedule is crafted minute-by-minute.

Well, I can't solve it here and now. I sigh and go to Anna.

Naturally, I have lost my appetite, so I have to endure the pain in Anna's eyes when I just nibble at the food.

"You don't like it?" she peeps. "I tried so hard..."

Yeah, do it. Make my situation even harder. "It's delicious," I assure her. I try to come up with something that could excuse me acting strange for the next twenty-four hours. "It's just... one of my clients who often employs me has problems with his business and it's likely he'll go bankrupt. I'd lose a part of the money I make and we'd have to tighten our belts until I find someone else."

She examines me with her eyes. She can tell when I'm making things up. Then she decides to just smile at me. Perhaps she decided to trust me - or decided she doesn't want to know the truth for now.

"Come on, Dan, you know it's not about money," she says. "We have some savings and after all... the best things are free," she winks at me.

I return her the smile and swallow the rest of the pancakes.

...

I spend the rest of the afternoon thinking. It's not as easy as usual. Anna just flutters around me like a hummingbird and constantly asks me to do something with her. I'm just a step away from snapping at her, but I've never raised my voice at her before and I'm determined not to start now.

In the end, I decide it would be the best to stick to the plan I came up with yesterday.

I lock myself in my workroom and scour the internet for two hours or so, looking for cabins in the mountains I could rent. I smile. Someone's going after me? I'll simply run away. And if I can turn the escape into a vacation with Anna, the better.

The offers repeatedly let me know that I should have booked something sooner. As I start to get frustrated, an offer peeks at me - it's a cozy, well-furnished cabin about a hundred kilometers away from here. The couple who had it booked canceled at the last minute.

I immediately book the cabin and make the payment. Then I leave the workroom. I find Anna in the living room, with a drawing tablet in her hand. I put on a big smile and tell her the news.

As I have expected, joyful squealing and hugging follows. "Adventure!" Anna cheers as she sprints up the stairs into the bedroom where she packs her things. She's clapping her hands like a little girl.

I also pack my stuff; unlike Anna, I only take what I find necessary. It's fascinating how different, yet the same we are. I'm so happy to have her. I have to survive the night so I can be here for her throughout the upcoming days, months, years.

As soon as we finish packing, I cram our luggage (as I've expected, Anna has packed about three times as much as I did) into the trunk of our Mercedes and then we hit the road.

The car radio is playing and Anna joyfully sings along every song she knows. Despite her questionable qualities as a singer, she cheers me up and I allow myself to get carried away. As Anna, Jon and I scream the lyrics of an evergreen Bon Jovi song at the top of our lungs, I even forget about the anonymous message.

I guess it's some kind of mistake after all. The message was intended for someone else. I amuse myself by imagining some low-ranking gangster having trouble with his Don, trying to blame his failure on a message that wasn't delivered. Finally, I feel like myself again.

...

Snow comes with rising altitude. When we finally reach the place where the cabin is supposed to be, all the trees around us are snow-covered. I see the excitement in Anna's bright eyes. And seeing this is worth all the trouble. I guess I was sent to Earth just to make this girl happy.

We park the car right next to the cabin, grab our luggage and step inside. I have to admit it really is cozy. The furniture smells of wood. There is a huge fireplace; Anna immediately lights it up. The warm light and the heat from the fire soon fill the room. For a solid while, we just sit in front of the fireplace, close to each other.

The stress is slowly fading away. I guess I really only needed to unwind a little.

As we settle in the cabin, Anna insists on building snowmen outside. Without hesitation, I join the childish fun. We do funny things with our snowmen, both proper and improper things, and we laugh so hard we can't breathe. We go back inside once Anna's cheeks are red due to freezing temperatures.

When I look at the grandfather clock standing in the corner, the smile freezes on my lips. Five in the afternoon. I have ten hours left.

Oh come on, Dan... you told yourself to let it go. It was a mistake.

Anna prepares a kettle of hot chocolate. Neither of us drinks alcohol and this is a perfect alternative for mulled wine. With Anna around, I don't have to restrain my inner child. Neither does she. We don't have to pretend to be something we're not around each other.

We enjoy the rest of the evening and then hit the bed. A huge window allows us to see outside, where the moonlight glimmers on the snow both on the trees and on the ground.

Anna is huddled close to me, but I'm more and more nervous as the night goes on.

"What's wrong with you?" she asks me suddenly.

"Nothing," I reply.

"Stop lying to me!" I hear traces of anger in her voice, possibly for the first time. "I know how you are when you're okay - and also when you're not okay. And right now, you're nowhere close to the laid-back Dan!"

I look at the clock. Midnight. Three hours left.

With an exasperated sigh, I show her the message.

Anna gasps in shock. "Why... why didn't you tell me sooner?" her voice immediately rises into a panicked falsetto. You should have called the police! Do something! Oh God, Dan... who could have sent this to you?"

"And this is exactly why I decided not to tell you. You'd be a bundle of nerves for the entire day. It's most probably just a mistake or a prank, you know, sending threats to a random number. I'm sure nothing will happen." I kiss her forehead and Anna calms down a little, even though I still hear her muffled sobs.

"I'll stay awake," she whispers. "If someone comes for you... I'll protect you."

I pull the girl closer to me and start to stroke her hair. "I won't allow anyone to hurt you. And in case anything happened to me, I want you to know I love you more than my own life. You know that, right?"

She nods.

...

The minutes pass. Two in the morning. Every sound I hear startles me.

Is my last day about to end?

At 2:46, I see a movement behind the window. I shush Anna and listen carefully. It seems someone is lurking around our cabin.

Strangely, I don't feel fear, just an urge to square up with the bastard who ruined my precious moments with Anna. I slip out of the bed, dress into my jacket and boots I left next to the bed, just in case, and grab a fire poker I found by the fireplace.

It won't be much useful if the intruder has a firearm. But it gives both me and Anna at least some sense of security. "Stay close to me," I whisper and hand the girl her coat.

I keep an eye on the part of the forest visible behind the window. Nothing. I have the poker in one hand, the other hand is squeezed by Anna. Then I see it - a flash of blue light, similar to a flashlight. So they are illuminating their way. Fine.

"We have to get to the car," I tell Anna. "Someone has followed us here."

The girl nods and tightens her grip on my hand.

As quiet as possible, I open the door and step outside. The pajama pants don't protect me from the cold much. I look around, trying to spot the intruder's flashlight again. I actually catch one more blue flash, but I'm not sure where did it come from.

"Quickly, quickly!” I mutter through clenched teeth, dragging mortified Anna towards the car. I keep expecting a gunshot that would end my last day on Earth.

The blue light appears again. I press the "unlock" button on my car keys. The red headlights of the Mercedes beam into the night, as if they wanted to battle the blue glow. The gunshots will come now. The author of the message will either try to damage our tires or simply gun me down before I reach the car.

I don't care. As long as Anna is safe.

I open the driver's door and literally throw Anna into the car. I did it. Even if I died now, Anna would make it - she doesn't have a driving license, but she has some knowledge about how to operate a car. She would be able to get away.

"GET IN!" she shrieks as she scrambles to the passenger's seat. Illuminated by the blue light, I try to cram myself into the car. I expect pain. The blood throbs in my ears to the rhythm of Anna's sobs.

I thrust the key into the ignition. The car comes alive. The clock on the dashboard tell me it's 2:58. Two more minutes and I'll survive my last day.

The blue light now engulfs the whole vehicle. I look around, trying to figure out where is it coming from. To my shock, I realize the light source has to be above the car. The position of shadows clearly points to that.

"Dan... what is it? What is it?!” Anna screams. “For God's sake, GO!”

I try. However... I feel something strange is happening to me. As if the connection between my body and my mind was fading away. I am trying to rev up the car, but at the same time, I feel like someone else is doing it. Thoughts fill my head - thoughts that are seemingly not mine. Bizarre images and memories.

Only one thing still binds me to this reality. Anna's tear-drenched face. She calls my name, but I can't hear it right. She shakes me. Tries to start the car herself.

2:59:56

"I love you," I manage to whisper.

2:59:58

The blue light is separating my body and soul.

3:00:00

"DAN!" Anna's shriek is the last thing I hear before my mind gets sucked into the void.

...

I wake up. However, I have no idea where I am. Or who I am.

The memories of Anna mix up with brand new perceptions. A room full of computer screens and holographic projections that seem so alien and unreal, but eerily familiar at the same time.

"Inhale, exhale, my friend," I hear a voice behind me. They're speaking a language I shouldn't be even able to pronounce - yet I still understand it perfectly. "You've done a good job."

"I've done a job...?" I mutter in that strange language.

My vision is becoming clearer. I'm sitting on some weird chair. Then, the speaker shows himself. I flinch. He's not human. But wait... neither am I. I'm the same as him. I know him. We're friends.

Slowly, the memories of what I've done start coming back to me.

The friend removes a faintly glowing, crystalline helmet from my head and offers me his hand. I accept it, leave the chair and make a few steps. The computer lab now makes more sense to me. I know how to operate it. However, a part of my mind is still with Anna.

"Take your time," the friend smiles after he notices my confused expression. "Living as a human for thirty-two years, from birth to adulthood... that must be pretty demanding, right?"

"You have no idea," I say. Thirty-two years. A few minutes ago, it would seem like a long time to me. Now I perceive it as a moment, an insignificant stretch of time. I remember how it's like to measure time in millennia and eons.

Despite that, those insignificant thirty-two years changed something in me.

I shuffle towards a window. I am high above the ground. It's dark, it must be the nighttime. I see a city below me - strange, surreal buildings illuminated by sterile, bluish light. When I look up at the sky, I see glowing, shattered pieces of space objects and iridescent clouds of a nearby nebula.

Finally, I see my enclave again. Even though I was gone just for a spell, it seems like an eternity to me.

I catch myself still thinking in the human language. I try to find a word describing what am I, but it's not as easy, considering the humans' limited vocabulary.

An alien? No, that's not it. I guess the term interdimensional being is the closest to the truth. We have almost nothing in common with humans, and yet, we're almost the same.

The friend approaches one of the computers. "You have done well. So much data in just thirty-two years. Now we know enough about their world to finally commence the harvest."

The last missing pieces of my memory hit the right spots.

The harvest.

Anna.

"No, you can't do that!" I shove the friend away from the computer. "Stop the harvest! Please! Anna is there... I can't just leave her there! Stop it!”

The friend laughs and lays his hand on my shoulder. "And here we go - the post-extraction hysteria. Sooner or later, it affects all the Pathfinders. Just keep calm. You'll be alright. However, you had to be pretty hard-wired in that world since the message we transmit a day before extraction didn't make you remember who you are."

A Pathfinder. Yes, this is what I am. An individual whose mind is implanted into a being from a different world to live a life of the said being, gathering as much information about their world as possible throughout a single lifetime. The data are then analyzed to prepare an optimal strategy of the harvest. At the same time, the mind of the Pathfinder is returned into their original body through a dimensional rift.

Blue light...

"You can't do that," I feebly try one more time. "Stop it."

"The humans are low on the stairs of evolution," the friend tries to calm me down. "They live for seventy, eighty years. Just a blink of an eye. And if we commence the harvest, our world will be able to sustain for several more centuries." He shrugs. "I know that we're the ones responsible for this and now we have to sacrifice other worlds to save ours. But it is how it is. The strong prey on the weak."

I stare out of the window, watching the harvesting machines getting prepared on a vast plain nearby. Giant, nightmarish machines. Ozone layer siphons. Water pumps. Solar panels. Oxygen extractors. And more. There seems to be an infinite number of them.

I know what happens when they fulfill their purpose. The world that witnesses their rampage is fated to die. It becomes a lifeless wasteland just for the sake of making our world survive for a few more centuries.

I clench my fists. Even though the human life is already fading away from my memory, one thing still lingers there - Anna. What is she doing now. I can do nothing to save her. In a moment, the machines will enter her world through a dimensional rift and steal everything life-giving.

Anna knows nothing. Maybe it's better that way. Right now, she's probably mourning Dan's apparent death. She will soon realize how petty this problem is.

Yes, humans are primitive. They only live for seventy years, they only have five basic senses and they didn't advance much as a species. But I still can't stop thinking about the hidden gems of the humankind. I've spent just a few years with her, but still, I won't forget her.

Maybe in a few eons.

The blue light of a dimensional rift starts to glow above the harvest machines. It will take roughly a day until it's stable enough to allow transport.

One day.

I think about how is Anna, and the rest of the humankind, going to spend the last day on Earth.

...

The end!

If you liked the story, you can comment, share or >donate< if you have some spare change ^^ If you didn’t, feel free to come to my ask box and ask me to never write again... too bad, because I will anyway :)

#writing #my writing #writers #writeblr #short story #romance #mystery

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corariley · 4 years

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A promise is a promise - Wikipedia

sits at the table, paints his name and has a nice word or two for every fan. The Trek actors are there, I think, simply "socialized" in a different way than the "ordinary" actor, who is now not committed to a special fandom. A star who would have me photographed for me (also for a reasonable amount of money) or who would give me his autograph along with a few nice words and a smile would have a more loyal fan in me than the business person who even for his scrawny signature or, the honor of being captured with him on a photo, asking prices that correspond to a vacation trip. But the bottom line of “romantics” like me might not be that much money to make. Brent Spiner was also dog-tired, he admitted at the autograph table, but - and that is what distinguishes the professional, he also stated on the record "the fans deserve it" that he was half knocked out. With Billie Eilish, Voodoo Jürgens and Kahlenberg. Breathtakingly illustrated extreme hike through the Australian desert, with which Mia Wasikowska follows in the footsteps of Julia Roberts, who was intended for the role 20 years ago. Would you like to book a speaker? Or do you have questions about fees or our services? Send us your appointment request for a call back.

In Other Languages

Nevertheless, Exit Polls said 63% voted for bogs even among white women. Jones, on the other hand, won 98% of the votes for colored women and 93% for colored men. In addition to the film business, Arnold Schwarzenegger also pursued a political career. He is a member of the Republican Party in the United States and became the 38th in November 2003. Basically has nothing to do with "I once met xxxxx and even got an autograph." I don't know if the market will level it all out again. In his desperate search for just one Turbo Man figure, he gets unwanted competition from the somewhat crazy postman Myron, who also promised his son a Turbo Man. Schwarzenegger thanked the crew and his colleagues for a "fantastic shoot". total stranger Studio Paramount, the fifth "terminator "Wants to bring the film to the cinemas in July 2015, tweeted on Schwarzenegger's photo on Wednesday. Action star Arnold Schwarzenegger (67), known as "Terminator", has revealed the title for the fifth film in the Killer Cyborg series. I personally cannot imagine anyone for whom I would be willing to spend money for a photo or signature. To a certain extent I also envy the people who are so passionate about someone, that can certainly be very fulfilling. If you see how difficult ComicCon Stuttgart (after all, organized by FedCon) has to find guests, you can fear that. But you can also go to a niche con like the Timelash (Doctor Who Convention), where the prices are still absolutely in line (or, hey, for the Astronomicon, hihi!). Brian Johnson and Angus Young explain how Malcolm Young naturally provided the greatest hymns of AC / DC. Universe, Mr. International ',' Mr. Europe 'and' Mr.

#schwarzenegger film de noël

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neighbours-kid · 5 years

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CCXP 2019

Or: How Zachary Levi Continues to Be a Blessing

Had anyone told be at the beginning of this year, that I would be going to a comic con, and that I would be meeting Zac again, I’m not sure I would have believed them. But as it so happened, I found out on the last day of early bird sales that Zac would be coming to Cologne to the first ever CCXP on the European continent and I…..I bought tickets immediately.

The last time I saw the man was two years ago in San Diego, where he was hosting SYFY’s Live From ComicCon, which was one of the most amazing weeks of my life. Back then, I finally met so many of my wonderful nerd friends that I had talked to over twitter, and even though NerdHQ was not happening that year, we had a great time around the convention, supporting Zac, dancing our asses off at his parties, going to the auction, and all the other cool stuff we did.

Then last year, I was in New York for six months, during which Zac was filming for Marvellous Mrs Maisel in the city, but since I was busy, and New York is ginormous, I never ran into the man.

I was so excited for Shazam to come out, and just following Zac’s experience with that over twitter and instagram, getting glimpses of the press tour and the conventions he went to over the year, and I was just so happy for everyone who got to see him, for my friends who got to see him again, and it honestly never occurred to me that there is a possibility I could be among the people to see him this year too. I never even considered it.

And then the news came, and I don’t think I really ever hesitated in booking that trip, buying those tickets. I went over my finances real quick, but that was that. And to my luck, or well, thanks to Someone upstairs, I even got to work during my Spring holidays, earn some money, and now that the con is over and I have all my numbers, it honestly pretty much exactly evens out. I spent no more, no less, than the money I earned in that week. Which is incredible all in itself.

When the time finally came to pack my things and hop on a train to Cologne, I was very excited, but also somewhat nervous. It had been quite a moment since I last travelled alone (the last time being my stay abroad in New York, where I had been for six months), and even longer since I had met Zac the last time. But the five hours on the train to Cologne went by unproblematic and I felt great when I arrived at my airbnb. My host was lovely and very forthcoming, and I immediately felt very welcome in the city. I didn’t spend much time at the room, however, and quickly made my way up to the Koelnmesse, where the CCXP was located.

It was Thursday, the first day of con, and it was actually rather empty when I arrived. But that did not particularly bother me, since I am not too fond of big crowds anyway. It gave me a nice opportunity to walk around the grounds in peace, look at the booths, the artists, the exhibitors. I bought some Tony Stark art, sunglasses, some Marvel shirts and a Gryffindor sweater. I took my sweet time just breathing the space in, letting myself relax and fall into the comfortable pace of being at con. In the evening, I went to see a screening of Tim Burton’s 1989 Batman, followed by a Q&A with Michael Uslan, the producer. I’d never seen the movie before, and am honestly not that interested in Batman, but it was really great, and Michael was utterly interesting to listen to.

During my walk home after the panel (which happened because I took a wrong tram and stranded myself somewhere I didn’t intend to be), I somehow found some public wifi and happened upon Zac’s instagram stories. It suddenly dawned on me that we were in the same city again, and that, theoretically, I could bump into him any time. Which, to be honest, I didn’t really know how to wrap my mind around.

I slept good that night, even though I did wake up the next day earlier than expected. But I was exhausted, in a good way. The way experiencing wonderful things makes you tired at the end of the day.

Friday brought with it some more specific plans. I had a photo-op with Ben Barnes first thing, and then wanted to watch some panels (Mark Pellegrino, Fast and Furious, Ben Barnes) spread all over the day. When I got to the con, I went straight to the photo booths to stand in line for my picture. Ben Barnes is a very lovely human being. He was so happy and excited to be there and to meet everyone, and just had a great energy. I had bought a Punisher shirt the day before, and had decided to wear it that day. When I walked into the booth, the first thing Ben did was make shooting motions at me. We talked for a moment about the city and the con, which was really lovely. I think that word really describes Ben very well. Lovely. He is lovely.

After the picture I walked over to where I could collect the print-out, took it over to somewhere I could sit, and just revelled a moment in the feeling of having a great time. Then I looked up to where the signing booth was, and I saw him. Zac was sitting there, signing things for the people in line, a big smile on his face. He was engaging and his joy was contagious. He was his usual passionate self, and I sat there watching him for a moment, and I just had this one thought: “Shit.”

I had not planned on having Zac sign anything. While the con in general was pretty reasonably priced in my opinion, the prices for some of the photo- and signing-ops were rather expensive. I had already booked a picture with Zac for the next day, and I thought that would be enough, I didn’t need him to scribble on anything. But as I was watching him, I couldn’t help myself, and I got up immediately, walked over to where they sold the tickets, and without a second thought bought a ticket for him to sign something. For some reason that morning I had packed my Shazam action figure, and now I knew why. I continued watching him interact with people until it was time for me to get in line too, because watching him was just so…..captivating, in a way. I had already pretty much seen everything of the con, so I didn’t even feel like I was missing out on anything.

I got in line, Shazito in hand, and just continued to take it all in. Benedict Wong was sitting next to him, also signing, also blasting music from his speaker, also being so very lovely. I can’t quite recall if Ben was also there, but he might have been. Or maybe it was Mark Pellegrino. I can’t remember.

As the line started to move, I started to get giddy. Would the man even remember me? I mean, it had been two years. Sure, we had interacted a bit over twitter, but that was that. And honestly, I didn’t expect him to. He meets so many people all the time, why would/should he remember me?

The line moved further, a staffer came to take our names for Zac, so he would write them properly. The person in front of me moved up, and I think that was when I started smiling like a big idiot. Zac turned to talk to Wong while the person in front of me was taking her stuff and moving away, so I stepped up to the table while Zac wasn’t looking. The staffer put the post-it with my name on the table, which got Zac’s attention, and he turned to look at me. If a facial expression can be described as “lighting up like a candle” then that is what his face did. Recognition. Big smile. Oh hey you! Gets up, walks around the table to where he could step closer to me, and squeeze-hugs me for a solid half minute at least.

Why should he remember me? Well, I don’t fucking know, but he did. For some reason. And honestly, it’s just so very him, so absolutely typical. Anyway, he sat down again, asked me how I was doing, how I was enjoying the con. We were having a lovely conversation, he signed my Shazam figure (which I presented to him with the words, “I have a butt for you to sign”), and when he felt he couldn’t possibly stretch the time any longer by carefully signing his name on the plastic butt, playfully jabbing at Wong about the music, asking me about Switzerland and where I was from exactly, he got up again, walked around the table, and gave me another hug. Once he let me go, I told him again, just how very happy it made me to still see that golden chain around his neck, and he smiled, telling me that there would come a day he would give it away, just like I did. But I knew that already, and it doesn’t change anything about how it makes me feel. As I was walking away, he asked me if I was around the other days, with genuine interest, and I told him I’d see him again for a picture the next day, which got me another one of those smiles.

It is save to say that when I walked back to a table to sit down and take that all in, I was just….blown away. Again. Just like the last two times I met him. Zac is just an inherently good person and I’ve never really met anyone who gives a shit as much as he does. I really haven’t. He has made every single time I met him a very special experience that I won’t ever forget. The man just knows how to make you feel seen and heard.

I think it took me a moment, to get up again from where I was sitting, and remembering what I wanted to do next. I was still just looking at the figure in my hand with the signature on it, and trying to remember everything that had just happened. Once I did get my mind back to the present, I went around the whole con again, looked at some more booths, bought some more things, and ultimately went to the Mark Pellegrino panel. I don’t watch Supernatural and I am not actually entirely sure I’ve ever seen Mark in anything, but I knew of him, and was interested to see what kinda person he is (—actually, I just checked. He was on two episodes of Chuck and was also in single episodes of some other shows that I watched).

Mark’s panel was fully moderated, but it was nevertheless very interesting. They did talk mostly about Supernatural, Mark’s time on set and how it was working with Jensen and Jared. The panel ended with Mark singing the first verse of Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin, which was honestly very beautiful. The man can sing.

Mark’s panel was followed by a quick appearance of Idris Elba and Jason Statham, who were interviewed quickly, presented us the newest trailer for Hobbs & Shaw, and we then even got to see some exclusive footage, presented by a video message from The Rock. After that, I wandered around the con for a bit more, before I went back to the panel room to see MinaLima, the studio that did all the graphics design work on both Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts. Their work is incredibly interesting, and it was wonderful listening to them talk about their experience working on those films and just their whole process. Utterly fascinating stuff. I stuck around after that to see Ben Barnes’ panel. He was, again, very lovely. He talked a bit about Punisher and working with Jon Bernthal, but also got to answer some fan questions from the audience, which I always think is a lot of fun, because it immediately makes a panel so much more personal and interesting.

Going back to my airbnb that night I was elevated. I had a wonderful day, I saw Zac again and had a lovely time with him, and just saw some great stuff all around con. I had talked to some woman who recognised me from the signing booth, bought some more Iron Man things, and also another Harry Potter sweater. But, obviously, Zac had been my absolute highlight of the day.

Saturday was a lot more unplanned than Friday. I had the picture with Zac mid-afternoon, but other than that, I didn’t really have much I wanted to do. There weren’t really any panels I was interested in, and I had already seen pretty much every thing at the con. So I decided to get myself a coffee and a croissant, and just do some people watching. I saw a cosplayer, dressed as a Stormtrooper, hanging out with a Luigi and Mario, taking pictures in front of the kid’s bouncy castle. He also had a red balloon tied to his back, from the IT 2 booth.

Once I got bored of just looking at people, I face-timed the whole con, then found out Zac would be doing an interview in the glass box and maybe come out and talk to some people, and made my way over to that area. Zac arrived, did the interview — which was lovely and you all can find here — and then quickly came down to us and gave high-fives, since he didn’t have much time because his photo session began immediately after the interview. The photo session, that I had to line up for. Once I was in line, I got that giddiness again, that I already felt the day before. I was thinking about what I wanted our picture to look like, what kinda pose I could make him do — I had some ideas, but I couldn’t decide — and watched how the people in front of me came out after the picture, big smiles on their faces. That’s Zac for you right there. Meeting him won’t leave people unchanged.

The line moved forward, and I could see into the booth, watch how the people in front of me took pictures with Zac. So many lovely pictures, big smiles, silly poses, pointing at funny shirts and great cosplay. The usual, you know. When it was my turn, the staffer managing everything told me to go in, Zac’s friend put my bags on the chair for me, and I went in. And there he was, dancing to his music, having a grand old time. And again, just like the day before, he looked at me and his face lit up like a candle, a big smile on his face, another Oh hey, Alex! with that joyful recognition that I just don’t really know how to deal with.

With a c’mere he put his arm around me and squeezed me tight, leaning into me, and we both looked at the camera. He stayed close until the screen showed the picture and he deemed it perfect. And it was. None of the poses I had thought of before in line could’ve ever come close to what I had now. He asked me again, just like the day before, if I was enjoying myself, then gave me high-fives and started dancing again, waiting for the next in line. I took my stuff, left the booth and wandered over to the photo collection booth in a daze. Once I had the picture in my hands, I sat down somewhere, just staring at that photo. I think I must’ve been staring at it for a very long time, in a sort of disbelief, remembering the other pictures I had of us, and how none of them even compare to this. It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.

I took a picture of it with my phone, and sent it to my friends who knew that I would be doing that today, and also changed my twitter profile picture to it. The next time I checked my phone, all my friends who knew the man started flipping their shit about how adorable this picture is. They were delighted and joined in my joy about this picture. I have treasured every moment I got to spend with Zac up until now, and I will treasure this one too. It makes me so incredibly happy, I can’t even begin to tell you.

I left the con pretty soon after that, since I had already seen pretty much everything, and didn’t really have any interest in the panels of the day. But before I left, I stopped by Elbenwald again, buying a Gryffindor scarf for myself, because I knew that if I didn’t, I would ultimately regret it. I made my way back to my airbnb in staggering heat, relaxed for a moment, and then went out again, deciding that I would do some touristing around the city. I went over to the cathedral — which is absolutely stunning, you guys, it’s just gorgeous —, explored the place around it, and took a bit of a walk by the water. I sat in the shade for a while, watching the people, watching the water, and just revelling in the good feeling of experiencing cool things and going interesting places, until I could feel the exhaustion of the heat and the walking. So I slowly made my way back, decided to cross the river over the bridge by foot (and saw all the love locks), and just took my time, breathing in the summer air and the freedom that came with it. Summer has always been my season, even though I bitch about the heat too much, and with it comes a feeling of freedom and opportunity that I always miss in the colder months.

I got home earlier that day than I did all the others, since I didn’t stay at the con, which usually closes at 9pm. And despite the heat, I slept wonderful, which, considering the day I’d had, is not a surprise at all.

My plan for Sunday looked like this: arrive at con by opening time, go to the very first panel immediately, and sit in the panel room all day until Zac’s panel at 4:30pm, sneaking my way into the front row when people leave after the panels before that. And that is exactly what I did. Lucky for me, the panel room had a bathroom and a snack bar, so I had everything I needed.

I went to the first panel which was a Game of Thrones “double feature” with first Mark Spindler, from the VFX team, having a presentation about his work, and especially creating the dragons like Drogon, and his experience working on the HBO show, and then with Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, who was interviewed, but also answered some fan questions. It’s save to say, that the panel room was absolutely full to the brink. He was the star of this con. Nikolaj is an interesting guy, even though I felt like the panel over all felt a bit awkward. But I’ve had that impression with all the moderated panels, so maybe it’s the language barrier between English speaking guests and native German speaking moderators. Who knows.

After the Game of Thrones panel, a lot of people vacated the room, and I was able to make my way into the front row immediately after that. I went to the bathroom, got myself some nachos, and settled in for a day full of panels. I cannot even begin to tell you how much my butt hurt after that day. But anyway, after Nikolaj, followed a panel with cosplay stars from all over the world, talking about their craft and their experiences, with some fan questions in between. After that came a Batman 80th Anniversary panel, with comic artists Ivan Reis, Joe Prado, David Finch, and Brian Azzarello. I am not particularly interested in Batman, but it was quite fascinating anyway.

I watched with a very pleased grin how the crew started clearing away chairs on the stage until only one was left, which gave me the very confirmation I had been waiting for: Zac would self-moderate his panel, which meant fan Q&A all the way, like he usually does it, like he loves it. I had been worrying all through the con, watching most other panels be moderated, that his would be too. But I was glad to be proven wrong. Vanessa came out to introduce our man, and when he came out, the energy in the room just changed to something akin to what I felt at NerdHQ. Lots of love. (He also, before even sitting down, before even fully arriving, spotted be in the front row and went Oh hi, Alex, how you doin’? straight into the microphone. I may or may not have felt some emotions about that.) Vanessa manned the microphone, and Zac went in full swing, already spreading so much joy just by being there.

His panel was absolutely lovely, as they always are. His energy is palpable, you can just feel his passion and love for this kind of stuff, and it just oozes out of him. He answered question after question, went on tangents and down rabbit holes, laughed and sang, joked and entertained both himself and us. He was talking about going to conventions at some point and came to talk about NerdHQ, during which he enquired who had been to the event before, and managed to phrase the question, “Besides [Name of Girl who asked the question which I can’t remember I’m so sorry*] and Alex, who’s been to NerdHQ?”, which again, emotions. But anyway. I had been looking out for Vanessa all through the panel, always holding my hand up to ask a question, and finally got to ask one. When I got up, he greeted me again with name and everything, and at that point I was just taking it. I asked him about his dream. He had been asked that question two years ago at DragonCon, and I asked him how it was looking, if he was still working on that, if anything came to it, or if he abandoned parts of it. I just wanted him to talk about his plans for life a bit. And he did. He gave a long, wonderfully beautiful answer, and honestly, the man’s eye contact is super intense, and it just meant the world to me that he took the time to elaborate on his ideas and plans and wishes and dreams. I just wanted to show everyone in that room who exactly I knew Zac to be, and he delivered. I have not found any footage from that panel online yet, but if I do, I will link it here as well.

(*This is me not remembering the name, and not Zac. Zac knew the name. He always knows the names.)

After the absolute high of that panel, I thought nothing could go wrong. I would make my way to the train station, where I would get my bags that I had already brought there in the morning, then I would board my train, and just relax for five hours on that journey, until I would be home around midnight. Well. As, apparently, per usual, that did not happen. Just like so many other trips I had, this one ended in absolute disaster as well. My train in Cologne got cancelled, I got sent around from one station to the other, ultimately ended up in a completely over filled train, had to change trains five times, had to sit on the floor in one of them, and finally arrived back in Bern at 1.30am. No busses or trams were running at that time anymore, getting a cab in Switzerland is one of the most expensive things you can do, and Uber or Lyft does not exist here. So I had to walk. From the train station, to my home, with my no-wheels sports bag, and all my other bags. I arrived home, completely drenched in sweat, absolutely exhausted, with shoulders so tense and overworked that I had bruises the next morning, at 2.30am. I was just so done.

But, I don’t want to dwell on such a negative note, and finish this post with some more words. I am so grateful that I get to experience such cool things. I feel so incredibly blessed to be able to go to these conventions and meet such amazing people like Zac. I feel so humbled by it, and I am eternally grateful that I got to meet Zac again and make such great memories, yet again. I’ve been following this man’s career for seven years now, and I don’t regret a single minute of it. I found him during a time where I was only just becoming the person I am today, and it is save to say that he had some formative influence in that. It’s save to say, that because of his example, I am a better, kinder, more unabashedly passionate person today than I was before. God has used Zac to inspire me, to show me things I never thought possible, and to keep reassuring me that he has plans for me. And I am so incredibly grateful for all of that.

Going to Cologne, going to CCXP has been a wonderful experience for me, and should Zac make it back there again, the chance is pretty big that you’ll find me there as well.

But for now, I am back home, and remembering all these beautiful moments with fondness, and revelling in the knowledge that somewhere, sometime in the future, I’ll likely get to do something like this again.

Until then, I’ll be here. Writing. Remembering.

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