#stcrmwtch

                      His heart is racing as he grabs the edge of the tub with sweaty hands and kneels down, trying to breathe through the dizziness and nausea. His right hand is tingling and trembling; the left is unshakeable and the only thing keeping him on his knees right now, especially when the door behind him opens (did he forget to lock it?) and Leah appears in his visual field. “No, you––” Bucky barely hears himself over his own pounding heart. A chill runs down his spine, and he needs to squeeze his eyes shut to keep himself from throwing up. “I’m g-good. I’ll be back out. In a – in a minute Just… go.”

“Is it too cliche to say I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think it would be something that needed your specific expertise?” Bruce lifts an eyebrow, shifting a bit. Clearing his throat, his good hand moves to press a few buttons, sending the scan through. “Have you ever heard of a ‘sonic canon arm’? Because I have reports coming in of someone with one and a little birdy-” Also known as hacking files. “-told me you might recognize this m.o. I’ve sent through the video. Any ideas what we’re dealing with here?”

    embarrassing    heat    spread    from    the    roots    of    his    hair    to    the    apple    of    his    cheeks    and    down    his    narrow    neck.    steve    opened    his    mouth    to    respond    before    he    realized...    he    wasn't    too    sure    how    to    answer    that?    "uhm,    yes?"    was    that    a    question,    he    demanded    of    himself.    having    not    received    too    many    compliments    behind    how    kind    he    was    to    open    the    door    before    walking    through    himself    or    picking    up    a    dropped    item,    steve    was    at    a    loss    for    how    to    handle    her    observation.    "i    mean-i-i    of    course,    i    mean    thank    you."    he    cleared    his    throat,    but    no    matter    what    he    did    to    try    to    recover,    the    moment    was    spiraling    out    of    his    control.    "sorry,"    he    finished    for    icing    on    the    cake.    

The life of a witcher was a solitary one. And Geralt had his share of women over the years. Of various levels of feelings. He had shared the night with Triss, without thinking of consequences. He imagined her as alone as he was. And it felt nice. So when morning came and she spoke up, he turned to face her. “Not really. But if you want to go, I won’t stop you.”

Harry was spending way too much time in that coffee shop -- drinking too much coffee, too -- but he truly couldn’t do otherwise. It wasn’t just because he thought MJ was cute; it was also because he worked better there than at home with these domestics around all the time. He hated living in a rich house. “Hi, MJ.” He said with a kind smile as he arrived at the counter. “I’m gonna take a dark coffee as usual, and a muffin. Give me any of them; it’ll be fine.” 

                     Except Leah seemed to be up for some more adventures and while Bucky's mind was quite alright with it, he doubted the, you know, important part of his body would be. It only gave a tired little twitch at Leah's low voice, and Bucky was relieved he'd pulled up the blanket to cover their hips. "You let me do this to you; that was quite nice already," he pointed out, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. "I'm good. Enjoying lying here with you." And he promptly had to stifle a yawn.

"She..." If it was fair...or maybe in another life, she'd still be there. "She made her choice. If she hadn't, we wouldn't be here."

"I've had worse." Azriel held the cloth against his side to try to stop the bleeding. A graze across the ribs with one of their blades was next to nothing for the shadowsinger. "It's fine."