#I’m anxious my brains on fire I hate it I want to be asleep but I don’t want it to be tomorrow

[milo-is-rambling]

Me vs having to get out of bed to go get water

[m0osical]

huntlow au where they're both in highschool (no boiling isles/magic au) and they meet because they both work at a summer camp.

they’re the two workers that literally never stop playing pranks on each other (along with the rest of the hexsquad) and every single camper thats new always asks returning campers if they’re together, to which they get a chorus of groans and after year three of them working together, literal screams of frustration. of course no one dares ask huntlow themselves.

I’m talking percabeth type of relationship.

It’s the end of the summer, year three of them working at this camp. Hunter’s uncle owns it, and Willow would probably commit arson on the camp to spite Hunter’s uncle if it wasn’t such a great place to work and for kids to have a fun, free summer.

And if it wasn’t a way for Hunter himself to slip out of his uncle’s grip, except for the few times he visits the camp to check in on how it’s running. Those days find Hunter with shaking hands and he’s quiet and resigned. The kids hate it. Hunter’s one of their favourite councilors and they hate seeing him so anxious. (They also want to commit arson against his uncle. Willow gives them high fives for that. Luz says she couldn’t be prouder. It makes Hunter smile, maybe just a bit, and that’s enough.)

The kids have all supposedly gone to bed about 30 minutes ago, and one by one Hunter and  Willow’s friends slipped away under various excuses. So now it was just the two of them, and it was also Willow’s birthday in, oh, probably roughly 5 minutes, if he’s right in thinking it’s almost midnight. Hunter thinks it’s a perfect time to ask the thing he’s wanted to since the first summer they worked together, and every school break they hung out together, always at her place or Luz or Gus, never his or Amity’s.

He’s sitting by the fire with her, and requests she waits while he goes to get something. She smiles and shoos him to get whatever it is he’s getting, “and quick, because I’ll be cold sitting here without you.”

He comes back with a cupcake, and a present hidden behind his back. He bought all sorts of her favourite things, but the first thing she’ll see when she opens it is a card open saying “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Hunter is so nervous.

Of course it doesn’t go to plan, but in a good way. She almost squishes the cupcake in his hands from how fast she jumps up to give him a hug. She even kisses him on the cheek, which totally does not make his face turn red.

She enjoys her cupcake, courtesy of him and the rest of the gang. Just as she’s about to open the present, just as Hunter’s breath stops in his throat, she places it down on the ground and turns to him abruptly. Her hands are twisting with each other, and she looks nervous. Hunter’s just about to ask her what’s wrong when she blurts out, “I like you! Like a lot. And I’d like to go out with you, if you want to too.”

Hunter’s brain stalls, and he can’t say a thing. Poor Willow gets more and more nervous the longer they sit there in silence, and just as she’s about to apologize and just leave, Hunter all of a sudden grabs her shirt and tugs her towards him, kissing her.

He almost immediately pulls away, bright red and sputtering apologies about how he should’ve asked first, he’s so sorry, and that was not how he meant to say his answer.

Willow laughs, and places a finger on his lips in a shushing gesture. “It’s okay Hunter. More than okay. I think I understand what you were trying to say.” and she pulls him in again.

They’re immediately startled by cheers and their friends, along with the kids that should be asleep now, rushing in to crush them in a group hug, all of them saying something along the lines of “FINALLY OH MY GOD”

When all is said and done and everyone’s gone to bed, Hunter points out she never opened his present, and he looks like he’s going to laugh. She lifts an eyebrow, and then opens the box.

The two of them look at each other, Willow back down to the box, and then back to Hunter. She laughs, and crushes him in a hug that sends them both sprawling to the floor in giggles.

Brilliant minds think alike after all.

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥Cuddlebug🔥

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Rain Clouds” By: The Arcadian Wild 🐉

~~~

Well, one thing was for sure, (Y/N) was fucked. Absolutely fucked. She tried not to let the horror show on her face as she listened to her Captain Levi’s orders, her blood roaring in her ears as only one sentence rang through her brain on a constant loop.

“We’re going to have to pair up and share tents tonight.”

(Y/N) had figured something like this would happen when a cart full of supplies had been crushed by a titan on their way to their breakpoint, but she hadn’t expected it to happen this way. She had expected to be sharing with Petra, keeping everyone separated by gender. At least, until she had seen the sweet ginger-haired girl glance at her boyfriend, Oulo, a look (Y/N) knew Levi hadn’t missed either.

It was at that point she knew she was screwed. She had no idea what she was going to do. She knew she would be mortified no matter who she was paired with, but when it was announced that she was going to be sharing a tent with her long time crush and Captain, she was pretty sure she felt her soul leave her body. What the hell was she going to do!?

She didn’t have any more time to think about it as Levi pushed off of the tree he’d been leaning on and approached her, jerking his head for her to follow him. He looked confident as he strode to the place where his tent had already been set up, but on the inside, he was a bit nervous. He hadn’t missed the look of horror that had flickered across (Y/N)’s face when he had ordered her to share a tent with him, something that made his insides clench painfully.

Levi had wanted (Y/N) for ages. She always made him feel so comfortable with her naturally quiet yet sociable personality, her sharp intelligence and quick observations never failing to impress him. He only ever felt anxious around her because he knew he felt something more than just comradeship with his squad member, his heart pounding every time she entered a room or flashed a smile at him. Even though he had been pissed off at the loss of one of the carts, he had been secretly pleased at the opportunity to share a tent with (Y/N), especially when he caught Petra eyeing Oulo excitedly, making it easy to pair himself with (Y/N) without seeming suspicious.

But that look on her face as he stated the order had made him nervous about this whole thing. What if she was uncomfortable? Wait, what was he thinking? Of course she was uncomfortable! She was being ordered to sleep beside her superior for fucks sake. Levi growled to himself in frustration. He hated how inept he was at wooing gestures and charming words, his personality better suited for threatening and killing without hesitation than comforting and flirting.

Holding the flap open for her, Levi allowed her to pass into the tent in front of him before following her in. It was still early, but all of the traps had been set, the food dispersed, and the horses taken care of. Levi’s squad had done their chores earlier than usual just in case they ran into more titans, Levi wanting his squad to be fed and energized in the event of a surprise attack. He sighed as he watched her look around the space, her eyes darting to look everywhere but at him.

“Oi,” Levi said, the young scout turning to face him as he came up to her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe, (Y/N). I know it’s shitty, but it’s only for one night. If you really are that uncomfortable though, I can always sleep outside the tent. Your choice.”

(Y/N)’s eyes immediately widened and she shook her head, her hands waving in front of her, causing his lips to twitch slightly at the cute sight of her embarrassment. “No, of course not, sir! I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous. Sharing a tent with my Captain? It just seems a little…, strange?”

“I know what you mean,” Levi said with a nod. Despite his interest in her, he could feel what she was feeling. She was his subordinate after all, a member of his squad. And now, he was sharing a bed with her, albeit innocently of course, but it still left a strange feeling in his chest, as if someone had placed a weight there that was both heavy as an anvil and light as a feather.

“A-Are you okay with this, sir? I can always sleep outside if you want your own space.”

“I ordered this didn’t I?” Levi asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, but you only did that because the cart was destroyed. The last thing I want is to make you feel uncomfortable in your own room.”

Levi’s heart rate sped up a little, humbled by her thoughtfulness. “You're not making me uncomfortable.”

“O-Oh, okay. That’s good, I guess I can stay here.”

Levi nodded once before turning around to perform his bedtime ritual, (Y/N) turning in the other direction to give him privacy and do her own routine before bed. The tent was completely silent aside from the rustling of their clothes and the sound of the trees blowing in the wind outside. The silence made (Y/N) feel funny, like she felt both comfortable and awkward at the same time, his soothing aura making her feel calm while her embarrassment kept rearing its head to make her feel uncomfortable. Her roiling emotions made her want to let out a groan of frustration but she reeled it in, not wanting to have the Captain question her.

Levi wasn’t much better off, sighing quietly when he found her presence to be soothing but also wanting to bang his head against the wall when his feelings wouldn’t stop interfering, making his heart beat twice as fast and his brain overthink every little thing he did. He managed to relax a little when (Y/N) left to brush her teeth, giving him the chance to take a deep breath and shove down his doubts about this whole thing. She had said she was fine with him sleeping beside her, so he just had to take her word for it, no matter how many times his brain tried to convince him she was just being polite.

(Y/N) slapped her cheeks with water when she finished cleaning her teeth, cooling down her wired emotions and allowing her to calm down. She could do this, no matter her own doubts. She had to do this, because she knew that if she tried to change anything he would leave, forgoing his own comfort for hers, and she refused to let him do that. She was an adult, a soldier on the best squad in the military, skilled in killing huge man-eating monsters. She could sleep for one night in her crush’s bed without doing anything embarrassing.

When she reentered the tent, Levi was shirtless, making her cheeks burn like fire as she caught sight of his sculpted chest and powerful abs. When he turned around, she could’ve drooled as the muscles in his back rippled. She looked up to find him watching her with a slight smirk on his face, making her squeak in embarrassment at having been caught ogling him.

Thankfully, he decided not to tease her other than the shit-eating grin on his face as she strode up beside him, folding her clothes neatly before making her way to the cot in the middle of the space. Levi joined her soon after, sliding under the covers and dousing the lantern, throwing the room in darkness.

���Goodnight, Captain.”

“Night, (Y/N).”

Levi knew she was still awake, her back facing him, but he eventually felt her relax, her breathing slowing down and her body unwinding as the influence of sleep took over. The tension in his own body was released when he noticed her relax, a sigh of relief falling from his lips before he could stop it. As he lay quietly in the cot, he could hear the sound of (Y/N)’s soft snores and sleepy whimpers start to filter in with the noises of the wind and the animals outside, the sound soothing him further.

He was just about to drift off himself, ready to roll over to the side from where he was laying on his back when he felt (Y/N) shift. Levi choked on his sharp inhale, his eyes flying open to look down and see (Y/N) pressed up against him. His heart was in his throat at the sight of the pretty girl snuggled into his side, her arms coming up to wrap around his waist and pull him to her with a tiny grunt. Levi was too speechless to do more than let her move him, his breath coming out in short, quick gasps as she held him close, sighing happily and nuzzling her face into his chest. She finally stopped moving, her light snores picking back up again as soon as she was happily cuddled up with him.

Levi’s eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted as an innocent sense of wonder filled him. Never in his life had a woman ever fallen asleep beside him, let alone cuddled up to him affectionately, nuzzling his skin. He felt warm and tingly all throughout his body, a small smile curling on his lips before he even knew what happened. He was surprised by his reaction, his urge to pull her closer and snuggle deeper into her embrace. He had never craved intimacy before, usually opting to break someone’s wrist if they tried to touch him. But with (Y/N), he found himself wanting her to be closer, already surprisingly greedy for her warm touch.

Indulging himself a little, Levi leaned down and pressed a light kiss on her head before settling back into the cot, moving his arms from behind his head to wrap around her body and pull her closer against him.

“Sweet dreams, (Y/N),” Levi murmured with a quiet chuckle before falling asleep himself, wrapped up with the girl he secretly adored.

___________________________

(Y/N) groaned as she woke, the cheery sound of birds chirping filling her ears as she came back to reality, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Immediately closing them again at the  bright sunlight that assaulted them, (Y/N) yawned and stretched an arm up over her head, moaning quietly at the delicious feeling of her back popping.

“Sleep well, brat?” A voice said from below her, her whole body vibrating with the feeling of his chuckle.

“HUH!?” (Y/N)'s eyes snapped open, immediately awake, her head turning to see exactly what she had feared. Smirking at her, his eyes twinkling, was her Captain, his arms wrapped lazily around her shoulders. Her face immediately flushed a furious bright red as she realized she was sprawled on top of him, her leg thrown over his groin and her chest pressed against his. Her arms were wrapped around his waist possessively, holding him close to her. She let out an embarrassed squeak and shot away from him, her eyes wide and her hands flailing as she tried to fumble her way through an apology.

“O-Oh gods L-Levi, I mean, Captain, I am s-so sorry! I know I should’ve told you, but I didn’t because I was embarrassed and I overthink everything so I kept it to myself and I shouldn’t have. Now I’ve just ruined everything, with my stupid habit! I am so sorry Captain, if I had told you last night that I always end up cuddling whatever is next to me, I wouldn’t have invaded your space,” (Y/N) rambled, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could stop them, her mind frazzled and completely out of sorts in her embarrassment.

She eventually managed to finally shut her mouth, hanging her head in eternal mortification. At that moment, she just wanted the ground to swallow her up. She couldn’t believe she had been so stupid and selfish. This whole situation could’ve been avoided if she had just been honest with him, but she had decided against telling him, worried he would be anxious about sharing a tent with her if he knew she became very cuddly in her sleep. 

But now that was completely out the window, her traitorous body having drifted over to her Captain without her permission, ruining not only her chance at possibly ever having a relationship with him, but also her current subordinate/superior relationship with the stoic man. Fear flooded her system at the thought of possibly being reassigned, sent to another team for creating unnecessary tension within the squad. She wouldn’t put it past Levi to do something like that, wouldn’t blame him if he did. She had seen him do way worse to other people for doing a tenth of what she had just done. He had every right to be furious with her after touching him intimately without his strict permission.

A sudden sound in front of her had her head shooting back up, her eyes widening at what she saw, her hands even coming up to rub at her eyes, convinced her vision was playing tricks on her. She figured she ought to get her ears checked too, as the sound continued to fill the tent and her heart with warmth.

Levi was laughing. And not just his signature chuckle, he was genuinely laughing. The sound was quiet, but it was one of the most beautiful noises (Y/N) had ever heard. It made her smile brightly despite the fear and embarrassment in her gut, her whole body humming as she watched her seemingly emotionless Captain close his eyes and bring his hand to his mouth, stifling the chuckles.

When Levi opened his eyes again, he saw (Y/N) staring at him with comically wide eyes, a bright, shocked smile on her gorgeous face. He hadn’t meant to laugh, but he hadn’t been able to help it. She had been so adorable, curled up on his chest like that with her face buried in his neck and their legs tangled together. He hadn’t wanted to wake her, content to just analyze her pretty features as she snoozed, but also didn’t miss the chance to tease the hell out of her when the light from the rising sun eventually roused her. 

He just hadn’t been able to contain himself when she had started rambling on and on. Normally, he was the one fighting to retain his composure around her, not that she knew that, but the sight of her struggling to meet his eyes, her face aflame with a violent blush as she stuttered through an apology had made him feel full and warm. It told him that maybe he affected her in the same way she affected him, something he had always craved but never expected, the discovery of this knowledge like an unexpected gift. She tilted her head a little when he looked into her eyes, trying to read him.

Gods, she was breathtaking. Her hair was kind of a mess, not having yet been brushed in the early morning. Her eyes were a little red from sleep and her rubbing them, but they sparkled in the light that shone through the canvas of their tent, making her seem so alive. Her skin was even glowing, making her shine in a way that made his breath hitch. He was silent now despite his laughing a few minutes ago, his silver hues trailing over her before meeting her gaze. He noticed her swallow hard.

“So…, you’re not mad?” (Y/N) asked hesitantly.

“No, I found it amusing.”

“So I didn’t bother you too much? I didn’t keep you awake all night?”

“Quite the opposite really.”

His simple answer made her visibly relax, but she was still watching him warily, as if waiting for him to suddenly change his mind and give her a punishment, not that she’d complain, Levi knew. The tension in the air dissipated despite (Y/N)’s obvious lingering embarrassment, enough so that (Y/N) felt comfortable preparing for the day.

Levi followed suit, standing and moving over to where he’d folded his clothes neatly, efficiently transforming himself back into a proper soldier. As soon as everything was in place, Levi turned to find (Y/N) still getting ready, her back facing him as she pulled her boots on and adjusted the leather skirt of her uniform. Smirking to himself, Levi crept up behind her, relishing in her surprised squeak when he leaned down to her ear.

“I thought you were pretty fucking cute last night, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) gasped loudly and whirled around to confront him only to find him already leaving the tent. She saw him pause, his hand on the flap as he turned and sent her a wink before slipping outside, his loud, commanding voice ringing out over the field to order her fellow squad members to start the day.

 (Y/N) raised a hand and brought it up to her ear and the back of her neck, smiling as she felt the spot where Levi’s warm breath had fanned out over her skin just seconds earlier. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought it was a dream, her stoic, cold-hearted Captain calling her cute. Her heart was pounding, her cheeks flushed with a little more than just embarrassment. Maybe she hadn’t ruined her chances with him after all.

~~~

A/N: Does anyone else fucking do this? I mean, I’m sure at least some of you do, but for some reason, when I sleep, I always cuddle whatever is next to me. Whether that be my dog, a pillow, a stuffed animal, a blanket, whatever it is, I will latch onto it at night. I actually wrote this story based on something that happened to me a few months ago when I was staying with a friend and I ended up cuddling her in the middle of the night, surprising her. It was a little less awkward for me than what was portrayed in the story because she’s my friend, but still, I felt a little bad wrapping myself around her all night  😅😂.

[crinkled-emotions]

Eddie @ Buck: “ let me feel your forehead. ” and/or “ look at you, you’re sweating bullets. ” for 911 prompts???

Hey! I just smashed this one out and I hope you enjoy it. I did touch a little bit on some of my own personal headcanons but anyway.

“Hey, Bobby?”

“Yes, Hen?”

“Have you... happened to walk past the bathroom in oh, say, the last fifteen to twenty minutes?”

“Are Buck and Eddie having sex again? I swear, if Buck’s reverting back to 1.0-“

“-please, if anything it’s Eddie leading Buck astray. Uh, no, actually Buck’s sitting in there having some sort of breakdown.”

Bobby frowned, getting up from his desk. A hand on Hen’s arm, he gave her a squeeze and turned toward the bunks.

“Eddie!”

Chim poked his head up from the couch but Eddie was nowhere to be seen. Figuring he was napping like the pro he is, Bobby gestured for Hen to head to the bunks.

“Go and find Eddie. How sick do you think Buck is?”

“I think he’s more exhausted than sick, Cap,” Hen said. Bobby tracked down the stairs and pushed open the door to the locker room, finding Buck sitting on the bench in his workout clothes, shivering. It didn’t look like he’d gotten to the working out part yet. Kneeling by Buck’s legs, Bobby touched his hand to get his attention.

“Buck, it’s Bobby,” he said softly and a tear slipped down Buck’s cheek.

“Where’s Eddie?” He asked and at that moment, Eddie appeared in the doorway. He was wearing one of Buck’s shirts and a pair of sweats, rubbing at his eye.

“What’s up with you?” He asked and Buck sucked in a sob.

“I don’t feel good, I- I don’t feel... something’s not-“

“-are you hot? Cold?”

Eddie’s ex-medic brain was switching on, no longer plagued by sleep, and he rushed over to sit beside Buck. Buck’s hand found Eddie’s t-shirt and he turned just enough to bury his head into Eddie’s chest.

“Hey, let me feel your forehead.”

In the way he often did with Christopher, Eddie cupped Buck’s head for a moment before pushing back his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re burning up. How about we head home, huh?”

Barely a glance at Bobby told Eddie he had the permission he needed to get Buck home. When Eddie went to stand Buck cried out, reaching for his shirt and when Eddie didn’t move, Buck pressed his face into Eddie’s abs. Eddie held the back of his neck, frowning as he turned to Bobby.

“Hey, can you grab my bag?”

Bobby did as told, passing over Eddie’s duffel. He unzipped it and rifled through it before producing a bottle of ibuprofen with a grin.

“How do you feel about some fever relief?” He asked Buck, who shook his head.

“Haven’t eaten today.”

Shit. Bobby glanced at Eddie, who took it all in stride.

“Okay. We’re going home. I can’t carry you so you’re gonna have to walk by yourself unless you want Chim firing up the ambulance sirens.”

Buck looked terrified at that thought, pressing his face into Eddie’s shirt again. Eddie grinned, that familiar Diaz smirk that Bobby had come to know well, and brushed his fingers through Buck’s curls.

“Let’s get home, hey?”

~9-1-1~

“Look at you, you’re sweating buckets.”

Buck didn’t even try to laugh at Eddie’s stupid little attempt at a pun; as the reigning king of dad jokes, that one was pathetic and Buck preferred to be close to Eddie rather than have him moving around.

“Eds,” Buck croaked out and Eddie froze.

“You’re not gonna puke are you? That happened last fic and apparently we’re taking a break from that.”

“Need you,” Buck murmured and Eddie’s eyes softened.

“Let’s get you changed.”

Whirling around before Buck’s grabby hands could grab his waist, Eddie yanked open Buck’s drawer of clothes he’d left at Casa de Diaz, coming up with a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt.

“Here, sweetheart, arms up,”

Weakly, Buck lifted his arms and Eddie pulled off his old shirt, letting Buck lower his arms the second he had it off because he was exhausted to say the least. The fever really wiped him out. Pulling the clean shirt over Buck’s head, Eddie got it straightened out before helping Buck put his arms through the holes. Seeing Buck exhausted from the small movements, Eddie decided to skip the shorts and instead pulled Buck’s pants off, tossing them into the laundry pile near his door. If he was lucky, he’d remember they were Buck’s. If not, he would definitely try to put them on at least once.

~9-1-1~

“Eds?”

“I’m here.”

“Eddie?”

“You already called for me.”

“Oh shit. Did I?”

“You did. What do you need?”

“I’m too hot.”

Eddie felt Buck’s forehead again, determining Buck was correct; he was indeed too hot.

“That’s right, babe. I’m going to get you something to eat and some fever reducers.”

“Don’t go.”

Buck rolled over, flush against Eddie’s chest, and tightened his grip. Eddie groaned, cooking in Buck’s heat, and lightly pushed at him.

“Sweetheart, I know you don’t feel good, but you need to let me up. I have to take care of you so you can feel good.”

“I don’t want you to move,” Buck murmured and Eddie smiled.

“Since when have you been clingy? You’ve never climbed me like this before, not even after-“

“-stop talking. Snuggle.”

As much as it pained Eddie, he managed to slip out of Buck’s octopus grip and placed Buck’s phone in the younger man’s hand.

“If you need me in the fifteen minutes I’m using to cook and pee, call me. But only if it’s an emergency.”

“Does missing you count?” Buck whispered and Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, so feverish Buck is cheesy Buck. Well, at least it’s not high Buck.”

“High Eddie is hilarious, the author said.”

“Yeah, well, the author should be in bed asleep right now so their judgement is clouded. Close your eyes and sleep, Buck, it’ll pass faster.”

~9-1-1~

When Buck woke, Eddie was back. There was toast on the bedside table, a couple bottles of water and Eddie appeared to be scrolling through Instagram, looking at Parenting Tips. As if he needed them, but it was sweet that he wanted to improve. Giving Eddie’s arm a kiss, Buck felt Eddie shift so he could do that thing where he-

Ah. Yesssssss. Right there.

Stroking through Buck’s curls, Eddie appeared focused and Buck sat up enough he could lean his head on Eddie’s shoulder, reaching for his phone.

“Don’t get so caught up.”

“Hey. You sound better.”

“I feel bad though.”

“Physically or mentally?”

Eddie had really kicked it up a notch lately, being aware of Buck’s mental wellbeing and being the first person to call him out if he thought Buck wasn’t taking care of himself.

“Both? I feel anxious and tired and still a little hot.”

“That sounds complicated. I have food and meds for the physical symptoms, but for the mental side of things... what’s making you feel anxious?”

“The second I get sick, I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack. It’s not healthy, I know.”

“What helps settle you down? Is there anything I can do?”

“If- if it’s not too much... can you... hold me?”

“Well shit, I guess I can do that. Only because you asked so nicely.”

It’s the way Eddie says it as he tosses his phone to the side, the way he is clearly down to cuddle. If anyone asked Buck six months ago, he would have said Eddie hated cuddling.

Turns out he was very wrong. Snuggling into Eddie’s chest, Buck finds he feels safe. Secure, protected.

He thinks that he’d like to maybe keep this feeling forever.

[wackybuddiemewbs]

Random Buddie Fic Snippets - no title, just (bad) vibes

Here’s to another snippet of things that ghost through my Word files. This one’s particularly headache-inducing for me personally. For one, trigger warnings galore. And then I have *checks file* 41k (!!!) words worth of non-fic noted down, but it’s really just unassembled bits and pieces of mostly dialog. Grrrrrrr. 😖

Since such a fic would take a lot more planning... which is basically the antithesis of me for all intents and purposes... I pester you with snippets like they are pestering me. Said it before and can only reiterate: I make you suffer with me. *cackles*

Basically, the story plays on the idea that Eddie and Buck grew up together due to plot convenient purposes and meet again at the fire station after years apart. Anyway, here’s to more madness mingled with angst! Cheers!

Buck slings his duffel bag over his shoulder when his phone vibrates. Sighing, he shifts his weight to take it out of his pocket and take the call. A smile creeps up his lips when he sees the picture flare up on his screen.

“Hey, what’s up, Mads?”

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that you were right about that little bakery downtown. It’s so worth the twenty minute trip,” she nearly groans. And Buck can relate. When he found that authentic Mexican bakery on a long run through the city, he may or may not have shed a few tears of happiness. And he may or may not have bought pastry worth a hundred bucks.

Totally worth it to run all those extra miles for the carbs, though.

“How many conchas did you have?” Buck asks, chuckling softly.

“I’m pleading the fifth.”

“Did you drive back to get more?” he questions, though Buck is fairly sure what the answer is already, which comes promptly, “Which is why I might be late for work.”

Buck laughs, leaning back against his car. “They are in the top 5 of conchas I ever had, which is saying something. So yeah, I get the feeling.”

And he should really know, he’s had the best in the world and no. 2 and 3 also. Though those are not up for sale.

“So, I need a bit of distraction to keep myself from digging through the remains of the bag before I make it to the car,” she tells him.

“Sure, what do you want to hear?”

“Howie told me that you’re getting someone new on the team today. Are you excited?”

“… Oh, ugh, sure.” Buck can feel his jaw cramping at that.

“You know you just sounded more excited about me being on a sugar high thanks to Mexican pastry than you are about your new teammate arriving.”

He’d hoped to avoid that conversation before he got over with it. Because that’s how he normally rolls with it. He gets over with it.

Works with band-aids and most situations that give you discomfort.

But Maddie has maybe not the sixth but seventh sense apparently big sisters seem to inherit by birth, so it appears that not even the most amazing conchas up for sale in all of Los Angeles will spare him having that conversation now. Which is the equivalent of tearing duct tape off, but slowly.

“I’m a huge concha fan, what can I say? And sure, it’s cool. It’d be nice to have a partner on the team, like, permanently, like Chim and Hen, more like.”

Buck rolls his eyes back as far as they will into his skull. It’s a small wonder that Maddie doesn’t buy his bullshit. He was fine just dodging the topic until now, it’s what normally works best for him. But yeah, Maddie just knows how to coax it out of him, and he loves and hates her for it.

“Talk to me, Buck.”

Buck looks up to the sky. “… I guess I’m just a bit nervous.”

“You are nervous? Don’t you think it’s up to the new teammate to be a bundle of nerves?”

“That’s kind of my thing, though,” Buck argues.

He has been ever since Bobby announced that they’d get a newbie, not a probie, but someone to be on the team with them. Dutifully, Buck laughed at the comments about how Bobby seemingly hired him a babysitter to make sure he doesn’t do reckless stuff all the time.

The nervous energy settled in when he got home that day and his leg wouldn’t stop bobbing well into lying in bed, trying to sleep. He only fell asleep halfway through reading the Wikipedia list of minor planets named after people.

“Then why do you feel nervous?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You know you can tell me,” she says softly.

Buck closes his eyes. He understood by now that yes, he can. But that doesn’t mean he wants to. Most of the time, Buck wished he didn’t have to tell anyone anything ever again and simply exist in the here and now. Because the here and now is sunny and tastes of pretty damn awesome conchas.

“I know it’s stupid, but…” His voice trails off.

And maybe she can read his mind, Buck wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be the case, because Maddie goes on to say, “You know he’s not taking your place, right?”

“What? Yeah, I mean…” Buck chews on his bottom lip. Whenever Maddie starts to talk like that, he feels like he’s sitting with a therapist. And suddenly, what he wants to believe are just his antics sounds like food for the shrinks.

“This is supposed to be your partner. Someone to have your back, not stab you in the back,” Maddie points out.

“Rationally, I know all that. It’s just…” He stretches out his legs.

“It’s just what?” she asks in a gentle tone of voice.

“What if he’s better than me?”

What if they realize that he’s expendable after all? What if someone comes along who can do things better than Buck without the attitude? What if he can’t prove his worth anymore because that guy can do it just as well, maybe even better?

“Then I will be glad because that means someone capable is watching out for my baby brother,” Maddie answers, pulling Buck back to the current conversation, not the fictional ones inside his head.

“What if we end up hating each other’s guts?” Buck continues. He had to restrain himself from actually typing a list of all those questions on his phone when his mind went spiraling upon receiving the news. Because that’s what’s been going on ever since Bobby announced. And Buck knows how stupid it is, but his brain didn’t get the memo. There are so many what ifs that it’s making him dizzy thinking about them.

“Then you talk about it like actual adults. And anyway, no one can hate you to your guts. You’re amazing.”

Buck has to fight hard not to blush. “Thanks, but you’re biased because you’re my sister.”

His heart still beats a little faster every time he says those words out loud. Something that comes so light and casual these days, though it isn’t. It is closer to what it should be. Because it should be casual, natural, given.

But apparently, the world didn’t get that memo yet. Seemingly a pattern.

“And as your sister, I’m also always right.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

He laughs. She chuckles back.

“Listen,” Maddie continues. “Just be yourself. You’re going to figure it out. This is exciting, Buck. More people to add to your family, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks,” he croaks.

“I’ll call you during lunch time, unless you’re out on a call. And then I want all the details on the newbie.”

“Alright. Pro tip: Put the bag of pastries in the trunk of your car. Only way to keep your paws off of them while driving.”

“I may actually crawl back, but yeah, it’d require a lot more effort.”

He smiles. “Drive save.”

“Will do.”

“Alright, I’m heading in,” Buck says, pushing away from his car. “Or else I will be running late, too.”

“Love you, little brother.”

“Love you, too. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Buck hangs up and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

Maddie is right. There is nothing to be nervous about. He has a team now. No one is leaving. New people are arriving. That’s how it works. That’s normal. And he gets to pester the newbie. So he should really be excited, as Maddie said. Buck knows he should focus on that. On how great this could turn out to be. On having a partner. Someone to have his back. All the time.

He sucks in a deep breath as he comes to stand in front of the door leading inside the fire station.

“The door is not closed,” he mutters with closed eyes, grabbing the handle. Buck pushes inside. He is greeted by the familiar hum of the fire station coming to life. People are talking over coffee, some are still fastening the buttons on their shirts as they make up the stairs.

And there’s no place he’d rather be. Buck knew that the moment he first walked into the station for the first time, and that assessment hasn’t changed since.

Buck makes for the locker rooms to change, not wanting to run late like Maddie. Once changed into his uniform, Buck finds himself a little more at ease. Athena once pointed out that they wear those uniforms as a way of protecting themselves. You take them off after work and leave all the bad behind that you’ve witnessed on a call. For Buck, the other way is just as true, though.

When he puts on that uniform on, he can leave his anxious, knee-bobbing self behind and do something meaningful. Because that’s what he found here, beside the team that means so much to him. He found a purpose. A way of answering a calling that lies far back in a past he can’t and won’t remember. To save lives.

Buck looks at his reflection in the mirror, straightens out the collar, makes sure his hair sits perfectly. His glance lingers on the name tag a moment longer, brushes his fingers over the metal plate, the one thing he can’t fix or straighten out.

But that won’t make me flinch. Ever.

“Buckaroo! Time for coffee and talk! I need new material on that show Denny and you are watching and that you need to update me on, so I don’t have to watch it!”

Buck smiles as he closes the locker to see Hen standing there with two cups of coffee.

“Coming.”

But that fixes a whole lot already.

-------------------

Hen sips her coffee in silence as Bobby goes on about who is doing what for the day. She is glad that she isn’t assigned truck cleaning duty. That’s one of the best things about newbies and probies coming in. They get to do the dirty work for a bit. She had to jump those hoops, too, like everyone did, so it only seems fair.

Chim nudges her in the side, pulling her out of her musings. “Have you seen the newbie yet?”

She nudges him back a bit harder to tell him wordlessly that he is supposed to stop doing that. “If I had, don’t you think I would’ve told you by now?”

“Just saying, being late on the first day is not a good sign.”

“Can I help you with something, Han, Wilson?” Bobby calls out. “Care to share with the rest of the team?”

Buck laughs beside them, earning himself a nudge from Hen. That kid is going places sometimes, but Hen learned to love him fiercely after he stopped being a punk.

Fine, he’s still a punk sometimes, but we got to see there’s a heart of gold underneath all the punk and muscle and hair gel.

He grew on her the way he managed to grow on anyone, even the Captain who doesn’t like to admit that more than anyone around the station. He fired the boy first week in, and it was well-deserved, but he proved capable and kind.

Hen knew she was done for this humanoid golden retriever when she fussed over not having a babysitter for Denny and Buck jumped in after he’d just done a double-shift. She and Karen were still working things out and he just made the room, even though the boy deserved bed more than anyone else. Still, he took Denny to the park, finished homework with him, and got him to go to bed even though the kid is not so much a negotiator as he is a small dictator when it comes to bedtime. Karen and she found Buck passed out, snoring like a lawnmower, a book still in his lap while sitting next to Denny’s bed.

“Nothing, Cap,” Chimney answers. “Just sharing excitement about the newbie.”

“You’ll meet him shortly. He had to pick up his gear first and talk to the higher-ups another time. Once he arrives, you can pester him with questions as I know you will.”

“On it, Cap.”

Bobby rolls his eyes, but then his mind goes back to the clipboard and the rest of the chores yet to be divided among the firefighters on shift. The rest of the morning routine goes without further incident, so the three are soon walking down the stairs to their designated task of checking their stocks on medical equipment.

“Okay. That is a beautiful man,” Chimney says, suddenly stopping in his tracks.

Hen trains her eyes on the dark-haired Latino, putting on a shirt. That should be the newbie, then.

“Where’s the lie? And I like girls.”

“Eddie…,” Buck breathes beside her.

Hen whips her head around at the sound.

“Wait, you know this guy?” Chim asks, but Buck doesn’t say anything. Instead, he starts to walk towards the new guy, or almost staggers, she should rather say. The newbie only takes notice of him when his head pops out from the shirt.

“Buck?”

To Hen, it feels like the two just go in slow motion while the rest of the fire station is crazy and busy as always. As though the whole world disappeared around them.

She can’t make out whatever words may be exchanged between them before the new guy covers the last few steps between them and pulls Buck against him in a tight hug. Shock is written all over his face, but also huge relief. Though Hen honestly wished they stood the other way around, because she would like to know just what expression is flitting across her little golden retriever’s face.

“What on earth is going on here?” Chimney mutters.

“I ain’t got no clue.”

The newbie pulls away, smiling over both ears, both hands deftly resting on Buck’s arms. Even though Hen still can’t see Buck’s face, it seems that the guy is doing all the talking for a change. Then he is hugging him all over again.

“I repeat, what on earth is going on here?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Before they can overcome their paralysis, Buck starts to move, gesturing behind himself. The new guy nods with the brightest of smiles, not once letting go of Buck’s arm as they start to walk towards them.

Her confusion is multiplied by the way Buck carries himself, eyes downcast, looking nothing but nervous.

Did someone exchange the 118’s golden retriever this morning, or what’s going on here?

“... can’t believe we meet again in this place of all places,” she can hear the new guy say as they approach.

“S, same.”

Buck is stuttering. To repeat the repeat: What on earth is going on here?

“We have so much catching up to do.”

“Yeah.”

“Buckaroo?” Hen calls out, or maybe demands. She no longer cares for the details here. She needs to get down to the bottom of this. Fast.

“Oh, sorry, I just… this is Eddie.”

“Hi.”

“Hi Eddie, it is a pleasure meeting you. We will greet you good and proper in only just a moment. Hold the line,” Hen says, before turning her attention back to Buck. “Now to you, Buckaroo. Spill the beans.”

“Yeah,” Chim agrees.

But Buck is not forthcoming. Boy looks like a fish out of the water, his mouth opening and closing without any sounds coming out. This makes the sirens ring inside Hen’s head, not the ones at the station. Because their Buckaroo never stops talking, even when he should sometimes, and even when he wants to stop talking, he will keep talking. So him not finding anything to say may or may not force Mother Hen to have to look after her punk chick here.

“We grew up together,” Eddie says after a pause, still all soft smiles and maybe even softer curls, by the looks of it. Hen will worry about that later, too. “I honestly had no clue he was working at this station, let alone that he was in L.A. Color me surprised. Abuela will not believe this.”

“Abuela?”

“My grandmother. She’s the one who fostered him before…,” Eddie continues, but then stops himself when he notices the look of sheer panic on Buck’s face. “They do not know this.”

Buck shakes his head.

“Dios.”

“Wait, you were in foster care?” Chimney almost cries out.

“In Texas?” Hen adds, her mind still short-circuiting thanks to that input.

“Yeah. I was adopted by the Moores after that.”

Chimney gapes at him. “You were adopted?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, they don’t know about that either?” Eddie asks, now almost as frantic as they are.

Welcome to the club, hon.

“Now they do,” Buck mutters.

“But Maddie isn’t adopted. I should know.” Chimney lifts his index finger.

“Right,” Hen agrees.

Eddie makes a face. “Who’s Maddie?”

“My girlfriend, Buck’s sister.”

“You have a sister?” Eddie slaps his hand against Buck’s arm, shock taking the place of confusion.

“Wait, you grew up with him and don’t know his sister?”

“It’s a long story,” Buck sighs.

“Like how you’re Texan?” Hen scoffs.

Buck holds up his hands. “Okay, guys, can we stop spiraling for a second?”

Hen opens her mouth to give him a piece of mind, but she’s abruptly cut off by their captain standing at the top of the stairs. “Buck! I could use a hand up here!”

“On my way, Cap!” Buck yells back, the amount of relief to opt out of the conversation more than imminent. “Sorry, duty calls!”

“Hey no,” Chim hisses, but Buck isn’t having it. He pats Eddie on the shoulder. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay.”

With that, he starts to jog, or rather run, up the stairs. All watch him go, before their eyes fall back on the people standing right in front of them.

Well, if that’s not awkward.

“So, ugh. Hi again,” the new guy says, smiling sheepishly. “Eddie Diaz, your newbie.”

“Hi. Hen Wilson.”

“Howard Han, but you can call me Chimney or Chim. And why I’m called that is between me and God.”

“Okay. That may be only the second most confusing thing to happen on my first day.”

“We don’t normally act like this,” Hen tries to reassure him.

Chim makes a face. “We don’t?”

Hen nudges him in the side hard enough to make Chim gasp.

“Wilson, Han, you’re supposed to get on with the stocks!” someone calls out.

“You’re not our boss!” Chim shouts back at what turns out to be that jackass Lambert from B-roll no one likes because his attitude stinks about as much as his aftershave.

“But Cap is and he told me to tell you to move it!”

“I hate that guy,” Chim grumbles.

“I think I’ll like it here,” Eddie chuckles.

“They are so young and innocent when they join,” Chim snorts.

“Welcome to the 118,” Hen says, giving the younger man’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I suppose you should go up there as well and talk to the captain.”

“Alright, I’ll see you around.”

“Most certainly.”

“That was only mildly threatening,” Chim laughs, rolling his eyes well before Hen jabs him another time.

“Good to have you here,” he adds.

“Indeed.”

“Good to be here. See you later.”

“Later,” both say in unison.

Eddie smiles at them before climbing up the stairs.

“You try to get a hold of your boo, I’ll see what info I can squeeze out of Cap or Buck, whoever I get my hands on first.”

“Aren’t we supposed to get on with…”

Hen glowers at him.

“I said nothing.”

“Less talking to me, more talking to your girlfriend.”

Chimney makes a mock salute, before walking away while fiddling with his phone. Hen let’s her gaze wander up to the gallery with a grimace. Something is not right, but she is going to figure it out. Because Hen Wilson keeps all her little chicks on track, even more so now that they got a new one to take care of.

-------------------

Eddie tosses the sponge into the water bucket. Getting some of the crappier chores for the day is something he fully expected to happen. What he didn't expect, not in a million years, was running into Buck. Eddie’s head is still reeling because of it. And for what it seems, the same is true for Buck.

Buck.

To say that he seemed shocked is an understatement. Eddie knows the way Buck expresses panic. He’s grown up making sure the kid breathed instead of keeling over when it hit him, so Eddie knows that this was not just surprise, this was fight-or-flight level panic. Eddie knows by now he was so panicked because his colleagues didn’t know about the fostering or adoption – and he could still kick himself for bringing it up unawares.

He jumped to the conclusion because Buck used to talk about it freely to anyone who asked, especially after he was adopted by the Moores. Because it was his way of signifying to the rest of the world that he’d made it from being abandoned to finding friends and family. So Eddie assumed that Buck wouldn’t act any different around his colleagues.

Far from it!

“Eddie, my friend.”

Eddie nearly jumps when Hen and Chimney materialize next to him.

Speaking of…

“Hi,” he greets them.

“How’re you liking it thus far?”

“The detergents smell not as bad as some others do,” Eddie snorts. “But I’m pretty sure that’s not what you came here to ask me about.”

“Just so that you know, you can tell us anything,” Hen says in that mild tone of voice, though Eddie is pretty sure she only says it this way not to scare him away.

“You are looking for bribing material on Buck, I take?”

“We always appreciate it, but we are more like… trying to get up to speed. Until you came to the station, we didn’t even know he’d been fostered,” Hen answers.

“Or adopted,” Chimney adds.

“In Texas.”

Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, about that. So he actually found his sister?”

If seeing Buck nearly floored him, hearing about his sister was definitely not adding to Eddie’s calm.

“Yes, she’s my girlfriend. You’ll get to know her soon enough.”

There is a part in Eddie that’s very much relieved to hear that Buck found at least part of his family, but another part of him hurts at the news just as much. Because that means Buck likely learned some very uncomfortable truths about his past that won’t have added to the man’s confidence.

“Back in Texas, we knew nothing about where he came from, including whether he had siblings or not. There was an assumption, but no one could be sure.”

“How old were you by the time your grandmother fostered him?”

“I was eight years old.”

“Eight years old… Buck made it sound like he and Maddie were out of touch like, only by the time she got to know Doug.”

Eddie frowns. “Who’s Doug?”

“No one you want to know.” Chimney shakes his head.

Eddie shakes his head. All of this starts to make less and less sense. Why didn’t Buck tell them about any of this? Why didn’t he when he apparently found his sister? Why are they about as clueless as he is, even though they’ve been working side-by-side with him for how long now?

“We lost sight of each other when the Moores moved away from Texas. So they aren’t around anymore?”

Hen shrugs at that. “Let’s say we’ve never met them, never talked about them, or seen any pictures.”

“Kid arrived here with a travel bag and the will to become a firefighter,” Chimney adds.

Eddie can’t help but smile at that. “That sounds like him.”

“You sound pretty clueless actually, and not gonna lie, that is strangely reassuring,” Chimney snorts.

“I prepared for meeting many new people today. Not my best friend back from childhood.”

“Aw.” Hen clutches her hands in front of her chest.

“I just hope he’s not mad at me.” Eddie grimaces. There is something tugging at his heart, just thinking about it. A memory that goes way back in time. When he thought he’d messed it up with Buck forever and always, but he forgave quicker than Eddie could forgive himself.

“I don’t remember our Buckaroo being capable of keeping grudges for long.”

“Then that hasn’t changed at least,” Eddie sighs.

“I think you two should definitely get something to drink after work, reminiscence about the good old times. Catch up. Report back to us in the morning,” she says, her voice trailing off.

“You are aware that they are childhood friends.”

“But I can be far more intimidating.”

“I think getting something to drink and catch up is actually a good idea,” Eddie ponders. “So thanks.”

“You, I like.”

Eddie grins.

“You still missed a spot, though.”

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. Buck made some good friends here, for what it seems. And he is more than glad for it. They can surely figure this all out.

-------------------

Waking up this morning, Buck thought his biggest worry would be to sort himself out with regards to the newbie and his standing on the team as a result. While that remains true, he just didn't imagine for one hot second it may be Eddie of all people in the entire universe.

Eddie.

When Buck saw him at the station, he didn’t know how to breathe. Even though he hadn’t seen him in years, he knew instantly, only to know that he suddenly knew nothing anymore. Buck used to think he made his peace never seeing Eddie again after they moved away, but then Eddie was hugging him and all those things Buck made sure to bury deep in the ground started to crawl up through the dirt, scratching at a way too thin surface.

And now he is sitting at a bar, nursing his alcohol free beer – because he doesn’t drink when driving, he has to get people out of cars thanks to that behavior way too often, thank you very much. He is at a bar. With Eddie. His Eddie. Because Eddie invited him to get a beer after the shift, and Buck didn’t know how to say no.

Story of my life, isn’t it?

“… I don’t even know where to begin,” Buck admits after a while of awkward silence spreading between them, wherein both men just started peeling the label off of their bottles of beer.

“Same. I mean, you got a sister.”

“Yeah, ugh, I would have told you that, but Chim is still over the moon with her, so of course he mentioned her before I could. They are cute together, but at the disgusting kind of stage,” Buck ponders.

“I’m just so happy for you that you found your family, Buck.”

He manages a feeble smile. Because Buck knows that Eddie means it, understands it perhaps better than most. Because he had to deal with it growing up, had to deal with Buck dealing it growing up.

“I didn’t really find Maddie. We just… happened to meet again. Like us two did today.”

Eddie blinks at him. “Really?”

Buck nods his head. The universe always had the strangest kind of humor when it came to him.

“She’s a dispatcher now. We talked over dispatch for a while, not knowing who we are to each other. We decided to hang out. As friends. She didn’t know people in the city after she moved there only recently, so we also went to a pub and… we started to talk.”

Déjà-vu much, huh?

“Over time, I told her some stuff about my past and, well, Maddie realized that the timing seemed oddly familiar to the brother she thought had died,” Buck continues. “DNA test confirmed it.”

“I was wondering about that,” Eddie sighs, still trying to process that input for what it seems. “I mean, I really put my foot in it, just blurting out with this.”

Buck holds up his hands. “Eddie, no. You had any reason to believe I had told them. I suppose I’ve been blowing this up out of proportions anyway, so this is really just on me.”

“It’s your choice what you want to share with people about yourself, Buck.”

Buck blinks. Sometimes, he forgets how wise Eddie used to be already at a young age. He was also a dumbass a lot of times, but when it came to talking about Buck’s feelings instead of his own, the guy always knew how to make sense of the chaos and make Buck feel like his feelings weren’t just a tedious affair best ripped off like band-aids.

Eddie always understood Buck, even when he couldn’t understand himself. And Buck wants to think that the same was true the other way around, for as long as it lasted.

“Thanks.”

Eddie smiles at him, sipping from his beer.

“Speaking of, thanks to Maddie I now know my official name,” Buck continues, doing his best to sound jovial. “Evan Buckley.”

“Buck-ley. Well, that explains how you got the name,” Eddie ponders, before tilting his head to the side with a cocked eyebrow. “So do I call you Evan from now on?”

“If you want me to call you Edmundo?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Buck sniggers. “You should know better than to tempt me.”

“Evan.”

“Edmundo.”

“This sounds all kinds of wrong,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “For me, you can only ever be Buck.”

“Which is convenient, because I can only be Buck.”

There was a brief moment in time when Buck considered changing his name, taking on that identity, the one intended. In the end, he dropped the idea for what he hopes to be for good. He doesn’t know who this Evan Buckley was or what he’d be now. He knows what Buck was like growing up. He knows what the guy is up to these days. And while they have their qualms, he’s mostly at peace with Buck.

Even a name tag doesn't change a thing about it.

Because he’s Buck. And thankfully, Eddie sees it the same way. So maybe he’s not entirely crazy for holding on to that, however schizophrenic it may be in the end.

“Anyway, part of the reason why I managed not to let anyone in on this is that Maddie agreed to run with not mentioning it. We just stuck to the part where we lost sight of each other and found one another again when anyone asked. And until now, no one really questioned the timeline.”

“And no one ever made the connection between Buckley and Buck?” Eddie asks.

Buck shakes his head. “Maddie’s married name is Kendall. She considered changing it back to Buckley after she broke up with her scumbag husband. But when she found out what kind of scumbags our parents are, it was out the window. So no one had reason to question the difference in names and just assumed that Maddie’s birth name was Moore, too.”

“I take that there is no good explanation as to how you ended up in Texas, then,” Eddie sighs. Buck can tell that he’s trying to sound casual, soft, but the white-knuckled grip on the beer bottle is an entirely different story.

“No, not really. As far as we understand it, our parents moved across state borders under the pretense to get treatment for me. Then they just dropped me at a fire station and drove back. They told Maddie I died.”

“Why would they do that? Why would anyone’s parents…?” Eddie shakes his head, disbelief settling in. Buck knows the feeling oh too well. When he found out, it didn’t make sense to him at all. But as more details were added, the clearer the bigger picture became, though it turned none the brighter.

Buck looks around, just to be sure none of the 118 was sent here to spy on them. Once he is sure there is really just them, Buck hunches forward in his seat.

“Well, I was a big, fat disappointment, I guess. They had me to save their oldest son, Daniel. He had juvenile leukemia. I was… I was a savior baby. Just that… ugh, I didn’t save him. My guessing is that they never wanted me, so they gave me away after Daniel died. I was just there for spare parts anyway.”

Buck suddenly feels something cold in his neck, only to realize it’s Eddie’s hand gently squeezing it. Buck tenses for a moment, then eases to the familiarity of the touch, suppressing the urge to lean into it like he used to.

“I’m so sorry. I would’ve hoped for something else to come out of this.”

Buck manages a feeble smile. “It’s fine. I got a sister now I never expected to find. That’s great. Over the moon kinda great. And now I also ran back into you, too. So I’m one lucky bastard after all.”

Eddie’s hand lingers for a while, no words spoken and yet all is said between them. And how much Buck missed that. Not having to say things for them to be understood.

Eventually, Eddie’s hand falls on his shoulder, giving it a light pat before returning to his beer. “So we’re still friends after I spilled to your colleagues?”

“I didn’t stop being your friend after you got so mad for me saying that you couldn’t bake for shit, so you covered a balloon stuck to a cardboard box in frosting and told me you’d baked a cake and I cut the thing only for it to explode in my face.”

“To this day one of my proudest achievements when it comes to pranks,” Eddie snorts, breaking out laughing at the memory.

Buck can’t help but laugh along. Many of those memories got stuffed away alongside the ones he’d buried in the ground. He had no reason to unearth them because he chose not to tell anyone. But with Eddie, those things come back to light and they shimmer like gold, even after all those years of packing on dust.

“Laugh it up all you want, I got back at you eventually.”

“Don’t remind me,” Eddie groans. “I got grounded for a month because you led my parents to believe I’d be stupid enough to have a folder for porn on the family’s computer and made a message pop up every time that the folder was overloaded and created a system error.”

“Yeah. That was a masterpiece,” Buck sniggers. “But anyway. If that didn’t cancel our friendship, I think we’re fairly good with all this here.”

“Then I’m glad. When you fled the scene, I got kind of worried.”

Buck shrugs. “You know me. I’m a whirlwind of emotions, so I thought it’d be best if I took the time to cool down.”

“That was definitely not how you went about it before,” Eddie argues.

And Buck can’t argue with that. Back in the day, Buck just let the storms rage, never minding the consequences. On the job, that’s still how he rolls, but it was also how he talked, how he presented himself. After he got to meet the Diaz family, he stopped hiding a lot of things. He screamed when he felt like screaming and he cried when he was sad. He laughed when he was happy. And sometimes he even cried because he was that happy, but he learned that this was okay. Abuela always told him this and he took it to heart.

At least for as long as I could.

“Which is why I’m working on it. But anyway! Enough of me. Tell me about you. How long have you been in L.A.? What got you here?” Buck asks. Judging by the look on Eddie’s face, his transition of topics is not nearly as smooth as he’d want it to be, but Eddie rolls with it anyway.

“I moved here only shortly, for the job,” he says. “Before that, I was working some odd jobs. Before that, Afghanistan.”

Buck winces. “Shit.”

“Yeah, that’s one way of describing it. After I came back home injured, I couldn’t do this anymore. I had to set priorities differently, and somehow… I ended up in L.A.”

“Fresh start.” Buck nods his head. There is still so much to unravel in just those few sentences. Afghanistan. Injury. Priorities. Eddie tends to hide a lot more in his words, even more so when they are scarce. But for what it seems, he will now get the time to dig deeper. Because that is what Buck knows someone has to do in order to understand someone like Eddie Diaz.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I get that feeling,” Buck says. “Los Angeles is great for that, worked out for Maddie and me, too.”

“We’ll have to drink a lot of beers to catch up on all those years we didn’t hear from each other to wind up having a fresh start in the same city.”

“Then it’s a date.”

Eddie wants to say something, but then his phone vibrates. “Sorry about that.”

Buck holds up his hands. “It’s fine.”

Eddie takes out his phone and checks his messages. Buck can see the instant shift in the other man’s demeanor. He knows that change like the back of his hand, even with years between where they parted ways and now crossed them again. Eddie’s shutting down.

“Hey, uhm, sorry, I gotta head out. It’s urgent,” he says, grabbing his wallet, clearly embarrassed and beat-up for having to leave so suddenly.

Some things don’t change, do they?

“Hey, it’s fine, man. We, ugh, we are stuck together now anyway, right? We’ll find enough time to catch up. It’s a date, after all,” Buck assures him. “Also, you’re not paying for the beer, unless you wanna pick a fight with me. Just go.”

Eddie smiles at him wryly. “Thanks. I’ll pay next round?”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Now off you go.”

“Sorry another time. I really gotta…”

“See you at work!”

“See ya!”

Buck manages to keep up the smile until the door shuts behind Eddie. His shoulders drop and he sucks in a deep breath. He pays for the beers and nearly flies out the door.

He makes for his car and climbs in. Buck realizes only now how badly his hands are shaking. Struggling for breath, he takes out his wallet again and fishes out that one crumpled piece of the past he carries with him whenever he’s not on the job, so to be sure it doesn’t get further damage.

Buck unfolds the faded photograph with shaky hands and presses it against his mouth, breathing hard against it. The tears keep coming, no matter how hard he tries to stop them. They are happy and sad. Desperate and relieved. Everything and nothing. And all that at the same time.

Eddie is back.

Eddie is back in his life, just like that, after the years it took him to accept he’d never see him again. That he’d moved on as he should have.

How do you rip off the band-aid or duct tape for that?

Or maybe that’s just the universe telling him that some things really can’t be fixed.

Because apparently, the universe is still mocking him.

[hyperfixationswithkate]

connect - part three | davey jacobs

reader x davey jacobs

[modern newsies au]

summary: ‘If this is love, then it’s always worth the debt.’

Davey POV

“Davey, they most definitely implied that they want to see you again,” Jack says. “Maybe they were just being nice and wanted to let me down easy,” Davey anxiously said back. “‘Tell them I love them and can’t wait to see them’ is literally the verbatim text you wrote to the group chat. They’re in love with ya Dave'' Jack retorted. Davey paces around the room trying to shake the word love from his mind, how could anybody like that love him? “Invite her to my birthday thing next week ” Jack says offhandedly already focused on something else. “What? No” Davey says surprised, “I’m not gonna ruin your birthday with me being awkward”

Turning around, Jack says “No, actually. All the boys can see them again and with everybody here, you aren’t forced to talk to each other” Davey nods, his way of agreeing. “Just call them in the morning and ask, the worst they can do is say no” Jack says walking into his bedroom for the evening. Davey anxiously walks to his room, almost threatening to write down what he should say in the call.

The moon fading away overhead sparks a new day, a day of dreaded phone calls and a day of hopeful promises. Davey waits until he can’t wait anymore and dials your number in his phone. He still has it memorized. It hasn’t changed in over ten years and it’s muscle memory at this point, his finger barely even thinking about the numbers.

His thumb hovers over the call button for a little too long and with bouncing knees, he sets the phone ringing. His mind races for the few rings before they pick up. “Hello” they say cheerfully. “Hi, um, I was wondering if you wanted to come to Jack’s birthday thing next week. It’s not like a full party or anything, just some of the boys coming over so I think maybe you’d want to come so you could see everybody again and if not that’s totally cool, no worries. It’s not a big deal, I-” Davey rambles barely taking a breath. Interrupting Davey, they said “I’d love to, just text me your address and the details and I’ll definitely be there.” “Wow, okay, thanks, yeah I’ll totally text you and everything. Bye see you then” He says. “Bye, have a good week” they respond and then the receiver clicks.

Reader POV

‘Damn, college definitely didn’t curve his anxiety’ you think.

A long nerve filled week passes. Between tests and thoughts of Davey, there is barely time for anything else. ‘Seeing your main friend group from high school is somewhat frightening on it’s own, like what if they're different, what if they don’t like me anymore’ you think, ‘woah slow down. Even if the boys don’t like you anymore, Davey will probably, well I at least think he will, talk to me’

Finally the time has come. Hoping you’re not over or under dressed, you get in your car and drive to the apartment. The drive felt like the uphill climb on a roller coaster, unsure if this is going to be the best ride of your life or if you’re gonna be terrified for what feels like endless minutes. Anxious thoughts float in your head. Your face feels like it’s on fire. The car radio plays with no music hitting your ear.

Everything comes crashing to a halt as you slow down in front of their apartment. The gps chimes and the lighting in front of the building brighten. You glance at the nearby windows. Lights flicker on and off. Curtains are moved. People pass by. You take a deep breath and force yourself out of your car.

As you approach the apartment door, you can hear people talking and music playing. The door has a ‘happy birthday jack’ banner on it with paper stars taped around it. The light above the door flickers slightly. Feet stomp from the staircase above. With a deep breath, you knock on the door.

Almost immediately, the door flies open almost catching on the rug inside. “How ya doing, doll?” Jack says loudly while pulling you into a hug. His shirt is worn and soft against your face. It smells of coffee, the scent filling your nose. The sounds of people talking inside hits your ears. “Hi Jack” you say quietly. Pulling away from the hug Jack says “Come on and join the party”. Closing the door behind you, he slings an arm around your shoulder like he saw you only yesterday not two and a half years ago.

He looks good after two years. Less awkward. Finally filling out his broad shoulders. His eyes still had the happiness that they used to hold even if it’s now a little faded. Jack felt like a covering in the rain storm even after years of not seeing him.

The apartment buzzed with energy as Jack walked you in. The living room and kitchen had all the old boys from high school, including Davey’s little brother, and a red headed woman. Everyone seemed so happy and at peace in the room. Your hammering heart slows to a somewhat normal pace.

“Hey everybody, it’s the birthday man with a special surprise” Jack says loudly addressing the room gesturing to you. Everyone lightly cheers before slowly returning to their conversations as Davey and the red headed woman approaches you. “Oh, by the way that’s Katherine, my girlfriend” Jack says to you quietly. “Hi, nice to meet you,” Katherine says as she reaches you, “They wouldn’t shut up about you.” “Don’t put us on blast Kath” Jack says, stepping over to put his arm around her waist. “Good to see you again,” Davey says quietly. Jack tries to subtly move away to talk to Katherine but in classic Jack fashion, fails. Ignoring Jack’s awkward shuffling, you say “Yeah, surprised you wanted to see me after that bore of a wedding.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he says quietly laughing, “Well it was but seeing you again balanced it out.” Shy eye contact is broken by Race almost running to hug you. As loud as ever, he says “God, it’s been forever. How has my dear child survived without me?” Laughing behind him, Spot says “I think their quality of life has probably improved without you in it, dear Race.” Letting go of you to fake faint into Spot’s arms, Race says “How could you say that to your beloved?” “Is the show over yet?” Davey says laughing at the two of them. “Never but the intermission includes asking how y/n is. So how are you?” Race says. “I’m doing alright, Racetrack. Better now that I’m seeing you” you say. “Well my last two years can be summarized by coming out to my parents, dating the love of my life, and hating first floor dorm rooms. Anything to add?” Race says all in one breath and then looks at Spot. “No, that about sums it up.” Spot replies.

After an evening of talking, eat cake, and retelling stories, you end up sitting on the couch with Davey. “That cake was really great, I haven’t had a homemade cake since I was a kid.” You say. “Thanks, I made it. Jack buttered me up for weeks so I would make it.” He responds. “No way” “Yes way” The evening weighs on you as you laugh. Almost everyone has headed out for the evening while you and Davey talked. After saying goodbye to Katherine, Jack says, “Alright you two, I’m gonna head to bed. I got work tomorrow.” Leaving you and Davey alone on the couch.

Turning to face you, he says “Hey, do you want to watch a movie?” “Yeah, I don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow.” You say, “You guys probably have Harry Potter on DVD.” “You know we do” Davey says laughing softly, shuffling through a plastic box of DVD cases. “It’s not like I can’t recite the whole movie but I’ll totally watch Sorcerer's Stone again” You say.

As the movie plays, you and Davey slowly start to lean into each other. It feels like high school again. Being in a dark room, completely unsupervised against bad decisions. Glancing at the superhero art above the TV, you can feel Davey look at you. Slowly turning to him, you lock eyes. The TV plays softly in the background. The faded light hitting his face just right.

Davey POV

Thoughts racing through his head as he tries to process how he got to this point. A million miles a minute, he thinks ‘What if they don’t want to kiss me and I’m being weird? What if they do and they’re waiting for me? How long have they felt this way? Did I miss my chance in high school? What if”

Boom, fireworks. Lips touching his, a hand on his arm, brain short circuiting. Everything melts away. Kissing people seems overrated until it’s the right person. Everything clicks into place. Time slows as they pull away. Fear clouds his vision as he thinks somethings wrong.

“A-are you okay?” he stammers out. “Yeah” they reply, somewhat breathless, “just processing a little bit.” “yeah” he replies quickly, leaning back into his seat. The movie plays while they both sit silently, heads both empty of thoughts.

The credits roll and the clock chimes 2am. “Should I go?” they say, “I don’t want this evening to end in regrets and half filled promises. I’d rather leave before the ache can set in.” “Stay” he says softly, reaching for their hand.

Time melts and the last thought before he falls asleep is ‘If this is love, then it’s always worth the debt.’

[because-of-a-friend]

Seventeen Reaction: Being Stranded on a Deserted Island

MASTERLIST

Thanks for the request anon! This one was super fun to do and I hope you really like it! One more request and then back to the series!!! (I also based A LOT of this off how they acted in One Fine Day lol)

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

As the leader, Cheol puts a lot of pressure on himself to be responsible and provide for everyone. So, I’m thinking in this situation he’s in stress mode 24/7. He’s always on his own case about being the responsible one and keeping everyone on track to do what they need to do to survive. He very rarely lets himself relax and when he does, it’s when he’s on his own. Since it’s a deserted island his “me time” is watching the waves on the beach at dusk. But besides that, he’s always at 100%. Since he’s already the leader of Seventeen, he would naturally step into the leadership role there. And the other boys would be more than willing to listen to him and follow his lead. He’s always making plans for what they need and how they can get it/make it/find it. He’s a real literal thinker and sees everything in concrete which means he creates very straightforward plans for everyone to follow. A true leader at all times. 

YOON JEONGHAN

Ever since I started stanning Seventeen three (?) years ago, I’ve always seen Hannie as a sort of Leader 2.0. I think he knows how much stress Coups is under and tries his best to ease that in any way he can. Despite the fact that he can be a little mischievous and will try to con his way out of any responsibilities lol, I think he truly would step up to the plate in this scenario. Most of the time, his role as one of the oldest seems to play out behind the scenes and is almost more emotional support rather than holding them to their responsibilities. Which is how I’d think he’d be in this situation too. He’d make sure everyone feels supported and listened to. He’d become a rock for the group and be someone even Cheol will depend on. 

JOSHUA HONG

I think sometimes Joshua feels as though he should be more responsible as one of the oldest but he also doesn’t know how to fit into more of a leadership role. So I think he’s definitely the type to take on responsibilities that include as little having to direct and order around others as possible. He’ll somewhat become a right hand man to Coups. When Coups makes plans for different things they need to do, Joshua will make sure they turn into a reality. He’ll go through the plan step by step to make sure they have everything they need to complete it. Then he’ll make a list of the supplies they need, organize a group of people to get it done, and make sure it’s completed. He doesn’t see himself as all that helpful or important but honestly their system would fall without him.

WEN JUNHUI

Jun is honestly such a wild card lol. In OFD he was really one of the most resourceful and ready for action members out of all of them. He’s always ready to do what needs to be done, no matter the task. He’s up for the challenge and happy to do it. But he’s just so...whimsical? Like he either doesn’t grasp the severity of the situation or he’s just insanely positive despite it. He’s just so fascinated by what they’re doing. It also has something to do with wanting to make sure the other boys have a bright spot. If Jun can make sure being stranded on an island sounds fun and exciting instead of terrifying, then he’s helping the others in the best way he can. But overall he’s just a jack-of-all trades who is ready to help everyone at every time.

KWON SOONYOUNG

Hoshi is also ceaselessly bright in this situation. I don’t know if anyone remembers Hoshi from One Fine Day, but surviving a deserted island is not exactly his forte. He definitely depends on the others a lot for direction. That doesn’t mean he isn’t helpful because he definitely is! Like Jun he picks up any odd job he can help with and is always happy to do it. Since he’s one of the mood makers of the group, he also picks up a lot of responsibilities in the emotional support department. He’s always a good ear to talk to and a shoulder to lean on. It may take him awhile to get the hang of things in this situation. Actually there’s lots of trial and error with him dropping things, losing things, that one time he may or may not have set one of their shelters on fire. But he’s a quick learner and once he knows it, it stays with him. So he becomes a very important cog in the groups’ machine. 

JEON WONWOO 

Wonwoo was lowkey thriving in One Fine Day. He was joking and energetic and the perfect garden fairy. I think he’d take over the same skill set in this situation. He definitely builds up his gardening skills and tries his best to grow anything they can eat. There’s like a different side of him that comes out in situations like this. He’s just like a Survivor Man. He’s strangely the head of most groups when it comes to going out and getting things done: building shelters, starting fires, fishing (not that he eats anything they catch lol). Someone tells him what needs to get done and he will do it without any hesitation or problems. Hoshi follows him around completely fascinated by his surprising talent for survival skills. Instead of remembering survival tactics, he honestly just comes up with his own tricks to survive. Just all around a real necessity to have in this situation. 

LEE JIHOON

Definitely more of a director than a doer. Helps Cheol and Joshua with plan making and sits back and watches the work get done. He definitely takes over with scolding the other boys since Joshua and Cheol hate having to do it. Jihoon has no problem standing there with his hands on his hips and going “hey, get back to work!” Definitely the guy who keeps everyone on track and defines the lines between things like “taking a needed break” and “genuinely being lazy” AKA “Guys I left you to take a break from building the shelter four hours ago, why are you bowling with coconuts???” He’s probably a little too stressed sometimes. And in order to make sure he doesn’t stress out the other boys, the emotional supporters of the group will just grab him and hold him down until he falls asleep for a nap lol. 

LEE SEOKMIN

Such a stressed out, absolutely terrified little bean. He does great considering how scary this is for him, but he is definitely so anxious. Depends on the others a lot. As one of the other mood makers of the group, he might feel a little guilty for not being as strong in this situation so the others can depend on him. But the other assure him that they’re happy to be the ones taking care of him this time. He still wants to help but the others will discreetly give him the easiest jobs so he doesn’t get overworked and over stressed. He also helps a lot as one of the cooks of the group. Actually all of the boys adore any of the ones that can cook because it makes all the difference. And Seokmin lives for the praise he gets in his cooking and the euphoric feeling of doing something to make the others happy. 

KIM MINGYU

Mingyu was THE MOMENT in One Fine Day. Like he did anything and everything. If you want to talk about someone the other boys WOULD NOT survive without, it’s Mingyu. Cooking, building, fishing, cleaning, chopping wood, and starting fires. Mingyu did it all in One Fine Day and he’ll do it again here. He’s there anytime anyone needs help. He doesn’t necessarily love it but he CAN do it. While he does all of this, he can also get stressed easily, so while the other boys depend on him for practical stuff, he depends on the others a lot for emotional support. He can get a little impatient with the others but that’s just because he’s tired. He naps literally anywhere and everywhere. “Does anyone know where Gyu went? I need help with dinner” “Oh last time I saw him he was asleep in another tree” 

XU MINGHAO

Silent supporter. Lowkey turns into a hermit. He has very specific skill sets that he uses to help the others when they need it. But besides that they usually just find him in random parts of the wilderness unexpectedly. “Minghao, what the hell are you doing out here?” “I don’t know, I just thought the lighting here was really pretty, I wanted to stare at it coming through the leaves” “That’s nice but Jihoon is on his way here and he’ll definitely yell at you if he catches you slacking off” One time no one saw him for like a day. “Oh my god!!! Minghao where were you???” “Found a cave.” “What????” “Found a cave” *shrugs* Just an unexpected wild card lol.

BOO SEUNGKWAN

Also very stressed. And is very vocal about it. The other boys don’t mind since it’s usually very entertaining. No one has to worry about beating around the bush when it comes to talking about any problems because Seungkwan will bring it up and will not stop bringing it up until they figure out a solution. No one has to worry about missing anything or losing anything or letting anything fall through the cracks because Seungkwan keeps track of everything. His brain is running a thousand miles a minute constantly to try and keep up with everything that is going on. He doesn’t miss a single thing. 

HANSOL VERNON CHWE

Also strangely fascinated and excited about this situation. And can also be found wandering off with Minghao. Definitely a chasing butterflies kind of guy. Doesn’t really think much of what’s going on, just does as he’s told to help out and is otherwise just kind of meandering around. Does lots of exploring. Unknowingly helps the others distress because he gets them to come along with him on his little adventures and it helps distract them from their every day stressors. Just bright eyes, hard work, and good times lol.

LEE CHAN

Very stressed but shows it in funny ways like cute little arguments with the other boys. Lowkey likes starting drama for entertainment but never anything too serious though. It’s actually usually really petty and funny drama to distract the others from more serious things. When things get too deep and the other boys start to slip into real sadness and anger, he’ll bring up something that will break the mood and get them all laughing and joking again. He’s a consistent bright spot for everyone else and keeps things moving along. 

[bellakitse]

Midnight Talk about Boys

Marjan watches as whatever the other person on the phone – obviously someone TK is seeing – talks to him, whatever the other man is saying makes TK all but melt into the cushions of the couch as he leans back and stares dreamily at the ceiling.

*

When Marjan can't sleep, she finds TK in the common area talking lovingly to someone on the phone.

30 days of Tarlos - Day 9

inspired by @lauraperfectinsanity prompt here

Marjan doesn’t really know what wakes her up; she’s usually blessed with being a sound sleeper, and yet somewhere after eleven, she finds herself up, staring at the ceiling of the dormitories listening to Judd’s snores one bunk over. She tries to ignore it, closing her eyes in the hope that sleep will come again. Another fifteen minutes pass before she resigns herself to being awake. She gets up softly, not wanting to wake up her other crew members, just because she’s awake doesn’t mean they should suffer too, the call alarm can ring any moment, and sleep is precious in their line of work.

As she sits up, putting on a pair of socks, she looks around the room at everyone she cares about deeply. When she first came to Austin from Miami, she didn’t expect to find a family. Honestly, she expected more of the same she had gotten in Florida, coworkers who didn’t really believe in her, instead she’s ended up with friends that have her back no matter what. She smiles to herself as she thinks about it, snickering softly when Judd lets out a loud snore, it’s a miracle any of them can sleep through that to begin with.

Only it seems that maybe one of her crew members isn’t sleeping through it, she looks over at TK’s bunk to find it completely empty. No TK or Buttercup who has taken to always sleeping with the younger Strand no matter how many yummy treats auntie has. She’s not going to get over that personal blow anytime soon; it doesn’t matter what she or any of the rest of them do, if TK is around, it’s like the rest of them are invisible to Buttercup.

No accounting for taste, she thinks with a roll of her eyes. With her socks on, she silently leaves the dormitory, and Judd’s snores behind as she heads for the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

She has her water in hand heading for the common area, hoping a little television will help her brain unwind enough to go back to sleep when she hears TK.

“How was your day?” she hears him ask whoever he’s on the phone with, he hasn’t noticed her yet as he pets Buttercup who’s resting his head on TK’s lap, giving her time to study him.

She’s known him for months now; she’s seen ‘annoyingly cocky but good at his job’ TK, she seen him look vulnerable after he got shot and then told them about his addiction. She’s seen the ‘teasing’ TK as he jokes around with them, and she’s seen ‘worried gentle’ TK as he makes sure his dad eats. She’s even gotten used to ‘upset and anxious’ TK if one of them has a close call on the job. The TK she knows is a gentle guy, and yet it’s nothing compared to the look he has on his face as he listens to the other person on the line.

“That didn’t happen,” TK says, chuckling, his face bright with happiness. “You’re making that up.”

He listens for another moment before rolling his eyes, but the soft smile doesn’t leave his face. “You would totally make that up,” he says again, pausing to listen. “To make me smile, of course,” he says with a grin that grows as the other person on the line speaks again.

“I miss you too, baby,” he sighs softly. “I hate when our shifts don’t line up, but I finish this shift in the morning, and then I’m all yours. Are you sure you want to pick me up? I can just go to your place; I can pick up breakfast on the way so you can sleep in.”

Marjan watches as whatever the other person on the phone – obviously someone TK is seeing – talks to him, whatever the other man is saying makes TK all but melt into the cushions of the couch as he leans back and stares dreamily at the ceiling.

“Okay fine,” he says with a lazy grin. “Who am I to say no to my hot boyfriend picking me up in his hot car.”

TK laughs at the answer his boyfriend gives him at his comment. “I’m going to let you go – no, you just got off shift and need your rest. I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart.”

Marjan watches him end the call with another soft sigh. She thinks for a moment about turning around to go back to the dorms since TK hasn’t noticed her yet as he gets lost in his little lovesick world, but she’s curious about who he was talking to, and she’s never been one to leave a curiosity alone.

“So you have a boyfriend,” she says, biting down on her bottom lip when he jumps. Buttercup, who has been falling asleep on his lap, gives him the most aggravated look he can give his favorite human.

“Marjan,” TK gasps out, his hand over his heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Marjan makes an apologetic face as she walks over to him, sitting down on the other side of Buttercup, who looks at her but doesn’t do much more since TK is petting his head as an apology of his own for disturbing his sleep.

“Were you eavesdropping?” TK questions, his eyes are narrowed, but he doesn’t actually look or sound upset.

“Not on purpose, but yes,” she answers honestly, smiling when TK rolls his eyes in response.

“So are you going to tell me about the boy?” she questions again, anxious for answers. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone; you’re only ever with us, or Officer Reyes – “ she cuts herself off, her eyes going wide when TK grins back at her.

“You’re hooking up with Officer hottie?” she hisses, earning a laugh from TK.

“I was hooking up with Carlos,” TK answers, and she rolls her eyes as he emphasizes his name. The guy is hot like fire, ‘Officer hottie’ is an appropriate nickname. “Now, I’m dating Carlos.”

“Why have you been keeping this a secret?” she questions, frowning when TK shakes his head.

“I’m not,” he starts. “Not on purpose anyway. My dad knows about Carlos and me, and Michelle knows since she’s Carlos’ best friend. Paul even knows too since we’ve taken him with us to some clubs that are LGBT friendly. I haven’t been purposely hiding it from the rest of you guys. It’s just with our crazy work schedules, it’s hard to find alone time, so when we do have some, he and I tend to get lost in each other.”

Marjan nods, understanding what he means, she’s been in town for months and hasn’t gone on a single date, though how much that has to do with time, and not with maybe having a tiny crush on a certain probie, she isn’t ready to examine too deeply yet.

“He seems like a nice guy,” she offers. She’s only really seen Carlos on calls, but he’s always professional, kind, and empathetic.

“He’s amazing,” TK answers, that wistful expression from before coming back. “He’s such a good guy, funny and understanding, always patient and so loving,” TK continues with a far off look as he sings his boyfriend’s praises. “And when I’m with him, I just…” he trails off, letting out a sigh as he smiles to himself.

“Wow,” she lets out, staring at her friend in amazement. “You aren’t just dating Carlos; you’re in love with him.”

TK doesn’t deny her statement; instead, he just gives her a shrug, smiling down as he gives Buttercup another gentle head rub. She wonders how she missed this; she might not be a human lie detector like Paul, but she’s usually pretty perceptive, and somehow she’s missed a member of her new family falling in love. She thinks back to a few months ago when they almost lost him first to a gunshot and then to his doubts about belonging with them. She thinks of the scared look on his face when he bravely told them about his past, and is instantly filled with so much warmth and affection for the man sitting next to her.

“I’m really happy for you, TK,” she says softly, feeling her eyes sting from all the emotion she feels inside. “You deserve to be happy.”

TK stares at her, his own eyes looking a little wet as he swallows hard. “Thank you, Marjan,” he whispers, reaching out to touch her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “That means a lot.

They stay quiet for a moment, just the sound of Buttercup’s little puffs of air as he dreams filling the space as they get over their emotional moment.

“Okay, so I have one very important, burning question,” she starts with a smirk that has TK raising an eyebrow at her. “Officer Carlos without a shirt?” she lets the question hang meaningfully.

TK smirks back at her, his green eyes dancing with delight. “Should totally arrest himself,” he says wickedly. “It’s definitely a crime to be that hot.”

Marjan lets out a laughing shriek, laughing even louder when TK joins her.

“Seriously, Marjan, it’s a miracle I don’t choke on my own drool when I’m around him,” he says as he drops his head back on the couch dramatically.

Marjan laughs again, settling in as TK continues to speak, obviously only just getting started now that they’re on the subject of his boyfriend's beauty.

They should probably go back to the dorms and try to get some sleep, who knows if they’ll be lucky enough to get through the night without a call until their shift ends in the morning at eight. But as TK starts talking dreamily about Carlos’ eyelashes of all things, she figures she can sacrifice some sleep to watch her friend talk about his boyfriend like a high schooler with a crush.

In the morning, when she’s getting ready to leave, she thinks about all she and TK talked about as she spots Carlos waiting by the bay doors, her heart full as his face lights up just as much as her friend’s last night when TK comes down the stairs. After TK all but runs into his arms, he turns to her with a smile asking if she wants to join them for breakfast, she shakes her head no. She’s still curious about them and wants to see what they’re like together, but figures now that she knows about them, there’s time for that later. For now, she’s just happy witnessing how Carlos holds her friend close, looking at him with the same love she saw in TK’s eyes the night before.

Once they’ve left in Carlos’ cool car, she heads back upstairs, TK’s happiness inspiring her to search for her own.

She finds it still in the dorms now dressed in street clothes. “Hey probie,” she starts, her heart ticking upward when Mateo turns to her with a boyish smile. “How do you feel about you and me getting breakfast?”

[artificialqueens]

Honeybee (Utica/Rosé) - Paper Lash

A/N: Hello everyone, it’s so great to get back to writing! This is my submission for the ‘Nostalgia’ challenge! Inspired by “Honeybee”, a song by the band Steam Powered Giraffe!

Just as a reference- Ross is Rosé’s boy name, and the pronouns are she/her in drag, he/him out of it! While Utica/Ethan will use they/them pronouns through the story! This one shot will most likely be paired with a prequel writing as well! Stay safe everyone!- Paper Lash

Ethan woke slowly at the sound of their alarm as it rang through the quiet room. This late in the winter, the sun had just begun to rise at this early hour- and Ethan, well, had just fallen asleep a handful of hours before, physical exhaustion pulling them away from the large in progress painting- propped close by an easel beside the window in their room. It took up the majority of the wall, allowing the small-town student the perfect view, and reference to the buildings of the big city. It was their third year, fall semester in New York- and they still weren’t used to the sights and sounds the city offered- but there was one major change they happened to love. They had met Ross within the first week of classes last semester- spurred on by their close friend, Mikey- or ‘Mik’ for short- to join a beginners dance group held by a few students in their department. As a painter, Ethan had only really met other ‘physical’ artists, graphic designers, 2D artists or even makeup artists- like Mikey himself. The students of the performing arts, confident and outspoken people, were the type they usually kept away from. Ross, along with his two best friends, lead the class- and from there, the two seemed to click together. The pair were the epitome of ‘opposites attract’.

As they stretched, and rose from their bed to get dressed- they reached for their phone, scrolling through their spotify- selecting an old playlist from high school, filled with hours of old, gentle music that would calm them through the anxieties of high school. They felt a bit off this morning, most likely from the lack of sleep, so they could use all the help they could get. Sweet, slow plucks from the guitar suddenly filled their room, a vocal hum trailing behind, when suddenly- words spilled into their ears-

“You didn’t have to look my way… Your eyes still haunt me, to this day- but you did… Yes, you did-”

The tall student’s pale face suddenly flushed, those old, sweet lyrics could make their brain think of no one else- but Ross. Those deep-set hazel eyes that only appeared wider with the occasional pink shadow. Ethan hated to admit it, but they were a bit jealous of Ross- or, Rosé- how beautiful and handsome she could look at the same time… Ethan couldn’t think they’d ever look as beautiful as Ross or Rosé- not in a million years…

“You didn’t have to say my name… ignite my circuits, start a flame- but you did…” Either name- Ethan or Utica, the little nickname Ross and his friends had begun to call them- however Ross would address them, would always sound like a song in the tall redhead’s ears. That warm, baritone voice would hug those syllables as they would slip from his lips- rushed and snappy, or slow… calm- pulling Utica out of the trace of their brain, back to the real world- it always made them so nervous, but, they couldn’t hear it enough- Quickly, they tapped at their phone, placing the song on repeat as they quickly got dressed, grabbed their things- and headed out the door to catch the early morning bus across campus. “You didn’t have to smile at me- your grins the sweetest that I’ve ever seen… but you did. Yes, you did…-”

Oh that smile, they could look at that smile all day… Ross’ lips were as animated as the rest of him- smiling like the sun, spilling beautiful notes from between them… setting Utica’s nerves on fire with a mere smirk- “You didn’t have to offer your hand- cause since I’ve kissed it, I’m at your command… but you did…-” “Oh! Turpentine erase me whole- cause I- don’t want to live my life alone!- well, I- been waiting for you all my life…

Set me free… my… Ho-ney bee…” Any stranger could see the cherry red flush of the young student’s face- here they sat, alone on the bus, bundled to hide from the city’s morning chill… glancing out the window, yearning for the person they’d see in mere minutes. Ethan would meet Ross and his friends for breakfast- the only time of the day they could just sit and relax before the chaos of their shared day.

“Hello Goodbye, Twas nice to know you, How I find myself without you- That I’ll never know…-”

Like magic, those dreamy song lyrics seemed to quicken just as the redhead stepped off from the bus, walking into the main campus building- now practically running to the tune of the music- long legs in stride, filled with a sudden anticipation- The words continued, their wide eyes looking through the café- “Hello goodbye I’m rather crazy, and I never thought I was crazy- but! What! Do I know?… I let myself go…-”

“Why’d I have to be into a short brunette?” Utica mumbled to themself, a giggle in their voice. They weren’t sure at all why they suddenly felt so… anxious, a rumbling in their ‘nuggets’ they couldn’t quite place- couldn’t get rid of- until their eyes met the sight of Ross, seated at a table, chatting along with two other brunettes, his closest friends- whom Utica knew as ‘Jan’ and ‘Lagoona’… Quickly, they seemed to rush over- just as they lyrics seemed to abruptly end- Breathless- they stood in front of the trio with a wide, cherry-lipped smile, carefully pulling their earbuds from their ears, tucking them away as they took the seat right beside Ross. He stared at them with a puzzled look on his face, staring into Ethan’s green, babydoll eyes. A chuckle slipped from his lips- potential words brought to a halt as Ethan tugged him close, placing a long, lingering kiss to his lips- staining them the same, rose petal red. Carefully, they pulled away- cupping the side of his face as they continued to stare, that same, blissful smile adorning their face as it had before- “Good morning- Honeybee-” Their accented voice cooed, suddenly bringing a bright flush to Ross’ face. His two friends began to chuckle at his flustered appearance, bringing a wider smile to Utica’s face as they seemed to relax, facing forward once more- resting their head atop Ross’ shoulder. He cussed toward his friends, brushing off their teasing laughs. “A-anyway- as I was saying, you assholes better bring it next practice- or I swear…” Ross’ words seemed to cut out in Ethan’s mind as they relaxed against him, hugging his arm close- simply enjoying the warm presence he gave… he was the one thing, with the help of their friends, that made Utica feel at home in this loud city- their Honeybee.

[growingstrong-imagines]

Kissed by Fire // Chapter One

Prologue

Summary: What happens when the Queen kissed by Ice needs to turn to the Queen kissed by Fire in desperate times? Will the visit of the Dragon Queen cause unintentional anger and even unexpected feelings in the Northern Realm? People aren’t joking when they say opposites attract.

Word Count: 2k+

Warning: mentions of alcohol

A/N: okay this is a hot mess which took me way too long to write but hey after all im writing a fanfic based on grrm’s work amirite. it’s also going to flop but idc

Lyarra woke up with an awful headache attacking her temple, and it felt like her brain was about to burst out of her skull. She looked down at herself and realised she had fallen asleep in her gown which became quite wrinkled the night before. The Queen let out an annoyed sigh and she knew she was causing extra work for her servants, the thought of it making her feel ashamed of herself. 

She tried to stand up on her two feet as slowly as possible, but Lyarra still felt like her body was light as a feather and heavy as all the bricks making up Winterfell, at once. She almost collapsed back on her hard bed which was barely comfortable enough to even sit on it. 

Lyarra knew she had to get herself together, so she took a huge gulp of the glass of water sitting on her desk and she knew it would probably be for the best to call one of her servants and ask for something to treat the hangover but her thought process was cut short by her most trusted advisor, Ser Davos.

“Your brother would like to talk to you, Your Grace,” he announced, bowing slightly. Lyarra simply nodded and told the knight to let Jon inside, then wait for them outside. She recognised the worried looks Davos was giving her when he saw her uncombed hair and wrinkled gown, but she couldn’t bother thinking about it right now. However, Lyarra did start feeling uneasy once Jon closed the door behind himself and looked her up and down with slightly raised eyebrows.

“Are you here to tell me something important or to judge me again?” The Queen snapped and rubbed the bridge of her nose with eyes shut tightly. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, feeling like an actual mess.

Jon took a step closer with a worried expression on his face. He knew what it felt like to behead someone, though he had got quite used to the blood on his hands by now. However, his sister didn’t have as much experience and still wanted to appear strong, but Jon knew about her coping mechanisms and it worried him more and more, on a daily basis but every time he wanted to talk to Lyarra about it, all he got was annoyed groans and denial. His sister was definitely down on the wrong path, but he knew there was still a chance to pull her back.

Lyarra looked him in the eyes, and she couldn’t keep it anymore. All those weeks and months without touching anyone even in the most innocent way possible made her stone-cold and distant, but still starving for the feeling of a warm body against her seemingly frozen one. She knew that her title was turning her into something she had never wanted to become and that made her terrified and anxious, constantly on the edge, praying to the Gods to send someone who would help her get her real self back.

Lyarra suddenly collapsed into Jon’s strong arms and her brother held her as close as possible, reassuring his sister that she wasn’t alone in this fight. He ran his fingers through Lyarra’s hair and stroked her back gently, so she would calm down and feel at ease just again.

Once it happened, she pulled away from Jon and gave him a tiny smile.

“I’m sorry. It was harder than I thought it would be. And I can’t stop thinking about how much danger might be hiding among the walls of Winterfell. Among the walls of my home,” she said almost whispering while filling another glass with the cold water.

“We’ll work hard to secure the castle even more, Lyarra. After all that have happened, you’ll also need a guard constantly looking after you. And don’t even dare to say no. I know that you are the Queen but I’m your brother and want you safe and sound.” Jon looked at her with one of the most serious expressions Lyarra had ever seen on his face, and she knew it was no place for an argument right now. She simply lowered her eyes and tried to ignore the headache that didn’t want to go away. Eventually, she decided to change the topic. It was way too painful to talk about it right now.

“Does the Dragon Queen still want us to bend the knee?” she asked with a slightly disgusted face and Jon didn’t have to talk to answer her question; his long and deafening silence was enough.

Lyarra let out a chuckle and shook her head, taking another sip of the fresh water that she wished was a cup of great Arbor wine instead. She soon got ashamed of that thought.

“We cannot do that and she just wastes all of our time if she thinks otherwise,” Lyarra said, putting the empty cup down, all the while looking Jon dead in the eyes. Her brother lowered his head and sighed, knowing full well it would take an awful lot to convince his sister to think about other options. Jon saw the good in Daenerys, he saw the potential in her and genuinely thought it would be for the better to seek alliance with the Dragon Queen. However, Lyarra was just as stubborn as their father Ned and brother Robb, and she wasn’t convinced easily about anything, let alone such an important decision, which could influence the lives of thousands if not millions so easily.

Jon stepped closer cautiously, knowing full well how much his sister treasured her personal space. But as she stood there without her heavy crown and flawless gown, Jon realised how vulnerable Lyarra actually was. No matter what anyone said and thought, his sister was still a scared child at heart who had to grow up way too fast. And a part of Jon hated himself for not being there for her to protect her from all the harm that had reached Lyarra while they were apart, but he knew that his sister would be angry with him for saying it out loud, so he kept it all to himself.

Lyarra shook her head once again and forced herself to look the other way, so she wouldn’t see the worry in Jon’s eyes. It was the same bloody look every time they looked at each other, and she was getting tired of it. After all, she wasn’t the helpless little girl she was when her brother left for the Wall - she was the Queen in the North, a grown woman with ambition and cunning. A grown woman who had fought for survival for a big part of her life, who had already learned she was her only true ally.

So she despised that look in Jon’s eyes even though her brother meant no harm. Still, it took Lyarra back to dark places she never wanted to visit again, so it was easier to avoid eye-contact with her brother, even if it meant making him feel bad. After all, she had never learned how to confront an issue in a healthy way.

Finally, when the silence was getting too heavy for both of them, Jon sighed and pulled Lyarra into a tight hug. The girl was surprised at first, so she just stood there slightly shocked of the sudden display of affection from Jon. Then, slowly but surely, Lyarra let her muscles relax and leaned into her brother’s strong body, folding her own arms around Jon’s torso. She unconsciously buried her face in the boy’s chest and it made her feel safe and home. Oh, how dearly she had missed these feelings and finally, they were all there, lighting a fire inside of Lyarra – a fire that was ignited and kept alive by the feelings of love and safety. Just as this fire started had Lyarra realised how cold and icy she had become throughout the years spent alone or in the company of cruel people and traitors. She only needed a pair of safe arms to melt the ice and make her feel human again.

When they pulled away, Lyarra even flashed a weak smile at her brother, who was quick to return the gesture. However, their moment was soon ruined by Ser Davos, who informed Lyarra about the Dragon Queen’s desire to speak to her in private.

Lyarra took a quick glance at Jon, who lowered his eyes and was already holding his breath. He knew full well that his sister had a rather strong personality which not everyone was fond of and he had feared that Queen Daenerys would be too quick to judge Lyarra too without giving her time to warm up to her.

However, Daenerys was quite patient and understanding, some of her qualities which she only reserved for people she greatly loved or respected. As she stepped in the chambers of the Queen in the North, she had to try really hard to toughen up in front of her rival. Or, who seemed to be her rival. Daenerys had no idea what had happened to her and she tried to fool herself by telling herself it was the sweet wine she had had before visiting the Queen in the North. Of course, it was much more complicated than that and a part of her was aware of that.

Lyarra raised her eyebrows to let the Dragon Queen know that she was waiting for her response.

“I’m terribly sorry, I must have got lost in my thoughts. I simply wanted to visit you because we haven’t had the chance to get to know each other, I’m afraid. What you did yesterday- You’ve done it before, haven’t you, Lady Lyarra?” Daenerys cursed herself in her mind for letting such ramble roll off the tip of her tongue.

However, Lyarra cursed the Queen in secret for addressing her as a simple Lady instead of the Queen she was. Still, she managed to force a smile on her face and offered her a seat opposite of her by her desk before answering the Queen’s question.

“I haven’t had to behead too many people so far, if that’s what you’re curious about. But I have had my battles to fight, so I’ve learned to swing a sword the hard way.”

Daenerys suddenly didn’t know how to reply, but she was so desperate not to appear weak or ignorant in front of a possible ally, so she simply smiled and said how much she had always admired warrior queens at which Lyarra simply smirked and turned away, leaving Daenerys disappointed.

“I’m sure you’re already a legend, as well, Your Grace, so please, let’s skip the small talk to you telling me the actual reason you’re here,” Lyarra blurted out, staring deep into those violet eyes. I can’t lie, they’re beautiful, but beauty is lethal.

Daenerys couldn’t ignore the tone the Northern Queen used when saying Your Grace but she also knew she couldn’t let such petty little things get in the way. She had a goal to achieve here but it was getting difficult to keep her composure in the presence of Lyarra Stark. And it wasn’t the fact that it was her territory that intimidated Dany- it was something completely different, a feeling that she hadn’t been able to shake off since she first laid eyes on the Stark girl. As much as it annoyed her, it also made her scared. Scared that it might be the cause of her losing her place on the Iron Throne.

“You see right through me, my Lady. I am actually here to convince you to bend the knee and join forces with me to-,“ but she couldn’t continue without being cut off by Lyarra Stark.

“To help you get the Iron Throne where you could rule over my home? I’m terribly sorry, Your Grace, but I hope you can understand that I simply can’t do that. I can’t decide for thousands. And even if I could, my answer would still be no.”

Daenerys flashed a rather forced smile at the self-proclaimed Queen in the North and thought to herself she’s making it difficult for everyone, but if she wants difficult, let it be difficult.

[thatshankcallednewt]

The Death Cure: Gally - I’d Forgive You in a Heartbeat; Part Four

In case you missed Part One//Part Two//Part Three… [ tags: @heartache97 @maddeleinegrace ]

“Stop!” one of the WCKD soldiers yelled before you could shoot him down with the others. He dropped his gun and his arms were raised above his head. “I’m on your side!”

   You hesitated, keeping your aim on his chest still. You breathed heavily under the mask. You glanced at the boys who stood at the edge of the pool, just as confused as you were. You ripped your helmet off and tossed it to the side, and a look of relief passed through the boys’ eyes.

  “Y/N!” they yelled in unison, and quickly climbed up the concrete steps towards you, dripping wet.

  You flashed them a smile, “Miss me?”

  The soldier with his arms above his head in surrender slowly removed his helmet, revealing a pair of blue eyes you thought you’d never see again.

  He eyed you a moment, dropping his helmet to the ground. It clattered over the concrete. “Yes,” he said slowly, in response to your question.

  “Gally…?” you breathed; your voice faltered. You held the gun up at him still as he slowly crept forward, his eyes on yours. Panic surged through your muscles at the sight of him alive and well, and you shook your head, thrusting your gun forward, “Stay back!”

  “Y/N,” Newt started, looking between the pair of you. “Y/N, put the gun down.”

  You shook your head. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be real. You blinked, gripping the gun in your hands tightly. Did WCKD get tired of tormenting you with Grievers and Cranks so much so that they decided to trick you into a new trial? Have you been asleep this whole time?

  You eyed Newt, who stood closer to you than Gally. Thomas was beside him, and Minho; all three were dripping wet with the water from the pool. “This can’t be real,” you choked out, your hands shook with emotion. “I watched him die…”

  “We all did,” Newt said. He was close to you, but his hands were up in caution. “Look, I bloody thought we were seeing things too but it’s really him, Y/N, this is real.”

  Your eyes met with Gally’s, who still stood opposite to you. You shook your head, breathing harshly through your nose. It just couldn’t be real, but this wasn’t a memory from the maze, and it didn’t have the same hazy glow or quick change in scenery every few minutes. Everything followed each other in a logical sequence. The gun felt heavy in your hands, the air felt cool against your sweaty face. It had to be real.

  “Y/N,” Gally breathed, slowly edging towards you. He didn’t drop his stare as he moved, “Y/N, it’s me.”

  You looked to Minho, who stood drenched in dark shirt and sweatpants, barefoot. His eyes were just as wide, if not wider. He looked to you, blinking in confusion. But he couldn’t give you any reassurance because this was just as much of a shock to him as it was to you. Even more so because he was the one who threw the spear right through Gally’s chest.

  You felt the urge to throw up as nausea bubbled dangerously up your stomach and into your throat. Your grip on the gun faltered but you didn’t drop the thing. All of it was too overwhelming.

  “We found him outside the city, Y/N,” Thomas started, his voice anxious to persuade you. “He’s with the rebels. He wanted to help us find you and Minho, and he did, he got us into the building.”

  You wanted to lower your gun. You wanted to just believe them but every time you went under and lost control of your reality, every time you were inserted into a WCKD trial, you believed it to be real... only to wake up back in your cell again.

  You chewed your lip in thought, “Tell me something only Gally knows,” you said, blinking. You were still staring at Gally, hard, gun pointed but not so much in a threatening way anymore. You wanted it to be true, but you had to hear something that would make it so. Anything.

  Gally blinked and thought carefully. He breathed in and then out, “That day, in the rain, I—”

  “No,” you interrupted, shaking your head, “They watched us in the maze, they know everything… it has to be something after.”

  Gally stared hard at you. He swallowed. “Newt said that you would forgive me in a heartbeat if you ever saw me again…”

  You let out the breath you’d been holding. You remembered back to that night. A night of restlessness in the Scorch. Newt, the only other soul awake, to comfort your sudden spill of tears. You were angry at Gally for doing what he did to Chuck, a boy’s life shouldn’t have been cut short. But you knew it wasn’t his fault completely, that WCKD had control over him and that almost hurt worse; to know that Gally so strongly despised the control WCKD had, only to be used as another pawn in their game at the very end. Of course, if it meant that you could see Gally again, touch him, hold him, just talk to him, of course, you would forgive him.

  You dropped your gun to the ground. You searched his blue eyes, you waited for the change in scenery or a Griever to crash through the courtyard, but nothing changed. Gally didn’t change. This wasn’t another WCKD trial, this was real.

  You ran to him and he pulled you into a hug, his hands desperate to touch you after all this time. He was real. Your hands pressed against his broad shoulders, his chest. You moved them to cup his face. You were smiling but your cheeks were wet. “I can’t believe it’s really you…”

  He was holding your face, too, and he breathed a shaky sigh of relief. He swallowed the sudden emotion that rose to his eyes, and he pressed his lips to your forehead. He peered down at your eyes, “It’s me,” was all he could manage to say without completely breaking down.

  “I hate to be an ass,” Thomas interjected, his eyes darting nervously, “but we’ve got to go.”

  Gally’s hand gripped yours and you both followed the three other boys out of the courtyard and into the heart of the city at a quick pace. The sky was filled with smoke and there were people rushing along the paved streets.

  All five of you fell down behind a wall, exhausted but alive. You sucked in oxygen quickly, chest heaving, but your hand still gripped Gally’s.

  “They weren’t meant to start a damn war…” Gally whispered under his breath as his blue eyes reflected the fiery sky.

  “How much further to the tunnels?” Thomas huffed, filling his lungs with air. He glanced nervously over the wall and down the alley in search for any lingering threat.

  Gally swallowed, “Twelve blocks from here, at least,” he eyed Newt who started hacking up more dangerous coughs, his chest heaving, and his hand covered his mouth.

  You narrowed your eyes and quickly realized the symptoms. You’d seen them before, in the hospital, the rare moments of consciousness as you were wheeled past hospital rooms with patients awaiting serum trials.

  You swallowed your tears and looked away from Newt.

  “We can make it,” Gally continued, looking at Thomas.

  Minho crouched beside you, still damp from the water, his dark hair slicked back. He eyed Gally who was sat beside you, as if he still couldn’t believe he was really there. Thomas left to go talk to Newt about getting the serum from Brenda.

  “You okay?” you asked Minho, searching his dark eyes. You knew all too well how he must be feeling. If he went through the same thing as you did…

  He nodded; his eyes caught yours. He licked his lips nervously, “I just…” he shook his head, not seeming to be capable of finishing his sentence.

  You touched his arm in understanding. WCKD would pay for the hell they put you two through, you were sure of it. If not by the trigger-happy rebels, then by Thomas and the rest of the WCKD survivors.

  “What the hell did they do to you two?” Gally suddenly asked, looking between the pair of you. He had his guesses. Obviously, you pointing a gun at him during your reunion was not quite what he had imagined, but he knew that you wouldn’t come out the same as you were back in the Glade, not after everything you’ve all been through.

  He knew that all too well, after what happened to him.

  You looked away from him, unable to answer straight away.

  “They made us relive the maze…” Minho offered, quietly, evident he didn’t want to divulge in the details.

  “One minute,” you started, suddenly brave, “I’d be sitting with you on the grass, back in the Glade as if nothing had happened. And then the next… I’d be running from Grievers, running for my life.”

  “So, they tortured you? Just for the serum?” he replied, angrily, not so much as asking but telling. He shook his head, his fingers clenched into a fist in his free hand, and he looked back over his shoulder in the general direction of the WCKD building, “Janson that slinthead, I’ll kill him.”

  Thomas lifted Newt up from the ground and they stumbled towards the road. Newt’s feet shuffled along as if not compliant with his brain’s orders. At this pace, no one would make it in time. Explosions still echoed in the background, though growing further away as you continued walking. But the sky was full of smoke and fire, and people were running through the streets like mad men. Every now and then, you had to take cover before a group of rebels or WCKD soldiers, even civilians, would take you out on sight.

  “God,” you breathed, peering around a corner of another alleyway. It was better to travel like this, undetected. “Everyone’s gone crazy…”

  “The Flare is in the city now, so no one’s safe,” Gally commented, scanning the oncoming wave of scattered people for any immediate threats.

  “Did I cause this?” Newt asked, almost limp in Thomas’ arms. His eyes were so dark, they could be hollowed out in his skull. The veins in his ghostly pale skin stuck out like vines on the maze walls, creeping up his arms and neck, bulging at his forehead and around his eyes. “Did I do this?” he was confused and unstable, clearly his reality wasn’t making any sense to him anymore.

  Gally shook his head.

  “Newt, no,” you urged, grabbing a hold of his hands. Your friend, who got you through the bad times and the good times back in the maze, who was a shoulder to cry on after Gally’s “death”, who kept going when no one else would… you felt a sob buried deep down and you looked away from him so it wouldn’t burst out. You didn’t want to confuse him more than he was already. You didn’t want to cry in front of him now, when you had nothing to give that would help him. You took in a breath and forced yourself to look at him once again, “Newt, you didn’t do this. This city was sick already. They tortured kids and forced experiments…” you swallowed the pain from your voice, “They would have ended up like this either way.”

  Newt didn’t really seem to understand but he grunted anyway and Thomas’ grip on him was loosening.

  “We’ve got to run,” Minho suggested, nodding his head. “We can get the serum and bring it back here.”

  Gally seemed dazed; quiet. The emotion in your voice made him feel worse for not getting you out of there earlier. But he was quick to snap out of it, and with a nod of his head, he supported Minho’s decision in getting the serum. He lifted his gun, “I’ll cover you.”

  “What can I do?” you asked, desperate to help your friends.

  Gally gestured for you to follow, “Come—”

  “Stay.” Minho cut in.

  You looked between Gally and Minho at their disagreement. It almost felt like old times. You would’ve laughed if under better circumstances.

  “She’s coming with us—”

  “We don’t need to put anyone else at risk, Gally. I’m the fastest runner we’ve got available. Thomas will need someone here with him.”

  Gally frowned at this, shaking his head. He’d already lost you once by getting separated. He wouldn’t let that happen again, he couldn’t. He went to argue but you stopped him with a hand on his arm. He looked at you. He recognized that look in your eyes.

  “I’ll be alright,” you said, searching his eyes.

  He shook his head, the panic in his heart climbed to his throat, and all he could think about was coming back to find that you were missing. “I can’t leave you—”

  You hopped onto your tippy-toes and urgently pressed your lips to his. He was surprised by the kiss, you felt him tense up, but he was soon comfortable as his shoulders relaxed and his hand touched the side of your face. He kissed you back, forgetting about the others.

  He looked at you as you pulled away, following your lips, clearly longing for more. He stopped himself and twisted his mouth, “I said I was going to kiss you—”

  You shushed him with a finger to his lips, “Come back with the serum and maybe you can.”

  He shook his head, backing away slowly as Minho took off towards the Berg where Brenda would be waiting. “You bet I will,” and with that, he turned to catch up with Minho, his gun at the ready.

  You sat with Newt as you waited for the others to come back. You were trying to hold it together for them, but it would be a close call. Newt looked as if he would close his eyes and slip away at any moment. You grabbed his hand, though cold and clammy against your touch, you squeezed it and he squeezed back.

  “Newt,” you whispered, swallowing the tears before they could spill. “You can do this.”

  “Y/N?” he asked, his eyes almost glazed over. He stared at you for a long while in silence before he continued, “You’re alright…” he sighed, closing his eyes, and dropping his head back. You shook his arm to keep him conscious, and his eyes reopened. “I’m glad we got you out of there.”

  “We’re going to help you, Newt.”

  “Did you find Gally?” he asked, blinking. Thomas was beside him now with a hand on his shoulder.

  You nodded, “I did. Thank you, Newt. You brought him back to me.”

  He smiled a tired smile, “I’m glad…” he started to drift off again.

  “Newt,” Thomas said softly, shaking him awake again, “you’ve got to stay awake. They’ll be back soon with the serum.”

  Newt nodded. He squeezed your hand again, “I’m glad you’ve got Gally, Y/N. He was so worried for you. He never showed it much in the Glade how he cared ‘bout you but it was a bloody lot. He’d frown every time you scraped your knee or got yelled at by another shank Glader. He always bugged me, asking me where you were when he couldn’t find you. Sometimes, he’d be in a mood when I tried talking to him ‘bout building and it was because he was jealous of you noticing other guys…” he laughed, shaking his head, and it brought on another coughing fit.

  He wiped his mouth after he finished, sighing almost drunkenly. He found your eyes, “He couldn’t tell you how he felt because he thought he wasn’t good enough for you or some klunk like that but… he couldn’t see how much you cared about him, too.”

  You nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes, “We were a mess. Both scared and confused,” you let yourself laugh, though all you wanted to do was cry instead. You felt like this would be the last conversation between you, and it scared you to the core.

  He smiled, nodding along with your words. “I want you to know, Y/N…” he murmured, shifting his position.

  You glanced over at Thomas who was watching Newt as he spoke. Thomas’s eyes shifted to yours as he noticed your attention on him, and he bit the inside of his lip. He was holding it together for now, but if Minho didn’t hurry with the serum, he could feel himself cracking.

  “I want you to know that once upon a time, I was good friends with Gally,” Newt continued. His eyes rolled sleepily around in his sockets, eyeing you as he finally spoke again, his voice quiet and his breathing jagged, “He was always a lot to put up with. But when you came to the Glade, Y/N, he started to change. And I knew it was because of you. Even though WCKD got their way at the end… I knew it tore him apart to do what he did.” Newt wiped his mouth after he cleared his throat, “But I know, you’re going to help him again. After all this. You lot will find a place to stay, and you’ll live on, and you’ll forget about WCKD and all the… the shitty things they did to us. And he’ll help you, too.”

  “Newt—” you choked, turning your face away from him. You kept your hand on his, but you couldn’t look at him and breakdown. You wouldn’t let yourself resolve to a crying, sobbing mess as he turned into a Crank.

  “Don’t talk like that, Newt,” Thomas said, suddenly, grabbing the boy by the shoulders. “You’re coming with us. You hear me? You’re not going to die here I won’t let that happen.”

  Newt hugged his knees to his chest and leaned his head against them, groaning at the pain that curled through his muscles and insides. Like a sick animal.

  You let go of his hand and stood up as an explosion echoed too close to your location. You peered around the corner of the alley and scanned the street, but you couldn’t spot anything to be worried about. Your eyes lingered a moment in search of Minho and Gally, but only the odd civilian passed by with worried eyes, out of breath, running from all the chaos.

  A hand clasped around your forearm and yanked you out of the alleyway, throwing you to the asphalt. You were on your hands and knees in the middle of the road, palms skinned and bloodied. You had yelled in surprise at the sudden aggression, and you quickly turned over to see who had thrown you to the ground.

  A WCKD soldier had his gun aimed at you, “Stay on the ground! Put your hands in the air!”

  You shakily raised your hands above your head, while still sitting on the road. You eyed the alleyway but couldn’t see any other soldiers, or Thomas and Newt. You looked back to the soldier.

  “Get to your feet, prisoner. Slowly,” he growled, thrusting his gun toward you as a threat.

  You got to your feet as he ordered, carefully, making sure you were moving slowly. You couldn’t see the guy’s eyes, but you looked at his helmet, nonetheless.

  “Where are the others?” he barked.

  You shook your head, “It’s just me…”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, girl. I know there were others! Where are they!?”

  “They left me behind, alright! I couldn’t keep up with them...” you tried your best to sound confident in your words so your voice wouldn’t falter, so he wouldn’t pick up on your lie. He hesitated as he thought it over.

  “Fine,” he grunted, and then he grabbed your arms, twisting them quickly behind your back so he could restrain your wrists with a pair of handcuffs. He held your arm and shoved you forwards, indicating that you walk towards WCKD while he had his gun pointed into your back.

  You complied and just had to hope that Minho and Gally would get back in time to save Newt.

[greywindys]

I had a fic I was working on for 2Doc week, but it betrayed me and turned angsty when I wanted something softer. So instead, I thought I could share a fic I never published, and I believe the first fic I ever wrote (dated in Google as complete on June 17th, 2016. Holy moly!)

It fits into day 3′s prompt of firsts - the first night the spent together on good terms. The beginning of the bond, I guess. It could also be considered the first head massage (lmao), as I like to think 2D is good with his hands in various scenarios 😉. (I adapted the head massage into scenes in later fics, but this was the first time I worked with it as a concept.)

If there are any “M” or “D” I apologize! When I was starting out, I was too self-conscious to write their entire names (lmao @ me). Oh, how things have changed. Hopefully, I corrected them all, along with most of the typos...

The rating here is T. Essentially, Murdoc encounters 2D late at night when he can’t sleep, and ends up watching a movie with him. They begin to form a tentative bond, head massages are had as much needed sleep. Takes place during P1.

Also happy bday again, Murdoc 😭

For Murdoc, sleeping is a daunting game of chance. First, there are the good nights, when he drinks enough to remain in a complete stupor until daylight. Then, there are the bad nights when his body’s need for genuine slumber catches up with him. On these nights, he dreams. More often than not, they come to him in the form of nightmares ranging from painfully specific to vague and unsettling. Like a flood, all of the emotions and thoughts he had intended to leave behind in Stoke return.

Tonight is one of those nights.  

This one, in particular, is the reason he’s left the grimy safety of his Winne, head still aching. He intends to rummage through the studio mini-fridge for the half-consumed bottle of rum he started that morning. (after all, his anxiety wasn’t going to fix itself). Instead, he's thrilled to discover the fridge has been restocked, and he's about to grab an unopened bottle of rum when he's interrupted by a crash coming from the direction of the lobby.

The noise is coming towards the kitchen now in slow, shuffling steps. Murdoc presumes it could either be one of the wayward demons he summoned the other day, or it could be another one of the building's many intruders looking for a blank wall to vandalize. Nothing he wants to deal with now in his anxious state. Murdoc considers making a run for his Winnebago but decides against it. ‘You’re Murdoc Niccals” he thinks to himself, ‘Bass god and creative genius. You're not ten anymore and you don't get scared.' With that, he braces himself and he turns to face the unknown figure that was now in the doorway.

“Oh...Hi, Murdoc.”

It’s 2D.

“I've got half a mind to lob you through another car window,” he says trying to mask his surprise. “What the hell are you doing walking around with the lights off in the middle of the night?” That must have been the source of the noise. Typical. It’s as if 2D is intentionally searching for a way to get injured.

2D scratches his head. “No need to get so steamed up about it. I, uh, well, I guess I was trying to keep to the ambiance and all that. I didn’t think anyone else would be awake right now.”

“I don’t know what’s so unexpected. I get more done in a night that you would in a year,” Murdoc replies. He takes a sip of one of the bottles of rum he’s assembled on the counter. “So long as there are still songs to write, the siestas can wait.”

“Not sleeping well then?” 2D asks blithely. Murdoc can’t tell if the singer has seen right through him or failed to comprehend a word of what he just said. He finds him very unreadable at times, and in the most infuriating way.

“No. I was working. Being productive. You ought to try it once in a while,” Murdoc grumbles in response. “Anyways. What’s all this about the ‘ambiance’?” As if 2D is that deep. “And why here?”

“That new zombie movie, you know the one I was telling you about? Well, it arrived today,” 2D says with a grin. “And now I’m watching it. It’s a lot scarier when you do it the dark.”

“Well you have a TV, no, THREE TVs in your room,” Murdoc retorts, exasperated. “Just go away and watch it there.”

“Yeah, uh, l thought about that, but the special effects in this one are supposed to be wicked good and the screen in the lobby has a clearer picture than the screens in my room. I would have watched it this afternoon, but Russel said Noodle shouldn’t be watching all the blood and guts, so I waited until now. It’s better watching scary movies late at night anyway, you know?” 2D is looking at Murdoc now, a tinge of hopefulness in his voice. “A couple blokes on this forum I was reading were describing it like a Romero meets Raimi type film, really over the top.”

“Sounds like a real Oscar winner you have there,” the sarcasm in Murdoc’s voice is palpable.

“Actually, it was a straight to video release, but you should check it out,” 2D says. “I’m only about ten minutes in now...if you have...time,” he trails off awkwardly.

The band had faced many inexplicable and absurd situations, but it is 2D’s consistent attempts to be friends that confounded Murdoc the most. His first inclination to tell the singer to fuck off. Yet the thought of the solitary journey back through the car park gives him pause. He isn't sure he can handle being alone right now. He needs an immediate distraction, a mood lifter, and making fun of 2D has the potential to be a two in one solution. At the very least, it was a safer gamble than going back and running the risk of falling asleep again.

Murdoc makes 2D wait for an answer in uncomfortable silence before replying. “Fine,” he says, “This better be entertaining.”

2D brightens at his response. “Just let me grab some snacks and then we can go back.”

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, and this time turn on the damn lights.”

With some newly acquired light and a bag of crackers in hand, 2D leads Murdoc to the lobby. A collection of pillows and blankets litter the floor. All the while, and to Murdoc’s annoyance, he takes the time to tell him every detail of the conception of his setup. He had been in the lobby for the past four hours watching movies. According to 2D, doing so in such an open area was much scarier than in his room or even in the building’s cinema. He was also sorry because they would have to turn the lights off again when the film starts. “Because well, you know, Muds. The ambiance.”

“Just start the bloody movie will you,” Murdoc replies from his spot on the floor. The size of Kong is intimidating at night, and it’s not helping him calm down. He hates how much his dreams still affect him. Physically, he had left all the bad energy behind ages ago, but mentally it follows him like a low-hanging mist, threatening to completely engulf him daily. He couldn't seem to make it go away, but he could control how much he thought about it. Alcohol was typically his mainstay but right now, that job belonged to an unwitting 2D. If he didn’t start the movie soon, Murdoc was going to set his entire movie collection on fire.

“It’s the little triangle that does the trick, right?” 2D asks as he studies the remote. “Never mind. I think I have it. There we go.”

The scene starts with a group of young adults in their twenties hiking through the woods as night falls. Occasionally, the camera switches angles. It shows the group from alternate perspectives such as the bushes or the tops of trees.

“The director wanted to flip the whole slow zombie portrayal on its head,” 2D explains. “There’s already been talk of fast zombies in the indie horror community, but he wants to take that one step further. In an interview, he said that not only were his zombies going to be fast, but they were also going to fly.”

“That’s stupid. And you thought this was worth the twenty or so quid you blew on it?”

“He’s ahead of his time. You’ll see. Look,” 2D says through a mouthful of crackers. He points to the current scene. One of the protagonists had wandered away from his group in search of a good place to set up camp. “See what he does with the camera there? We’re watching the main character from the perspective of a flying zombie. The director wanted to make a movie about an outbreak that emerges in the wilderness, not because of some virus. It's meant to add to the impossibility of the situation. How do we fight against something not man-made? Watching the film through the eyes of the monster emphasizes how alone and insignificant we are in the face of well, everything. Man versus nature, nature versus man.”

Murdoc grabs the bag of crackers from 2D. “Oh please. This is hardly cutting edge. We all know they’ll all be dead in the end because nature is bigger than man. Duh.” He takes a handful for himself and continues watching.

2D ignores him and continues his reflection. “It makes me wonder whether it would be better to be a zombie at the end, rather than survive. Not sure I would want the loneliness that comes with it.”

Murdoc is beginning to realize that 2D is in one of his chatty, philosophical moods. He attempts to tune out the singer’s blathering with another drink from the bottle of rum he brought with him from the kitchen. He came here to watch a ridiculous movie. Instead, he's stuck listening to banal musings about the true nature of humanity from someone with a half-functioning brain.

“Well if there’s ever a zombie apocalypse here, I’ll be sure to let them eat you first if you’re so eager. You’re already halfway there anyway, and certainly no better off than these divs on screen.”

“Thanks, Muds. If I ever get infected, I’ll make sure not to bite you...unless you want me too,” 2D replies.

This time, it’s Murdoc's turn to ignore him. “Anyways, as far as I’m concerned, anyone who’s too pathetic to fight against a zombie apocalypse deserves whatever is coming to them.” He gets a twisted sense of comfort from blaming.

“I dunno...I don’t see any shame in being afraid of a monster bigger than you. That’s what makes these movies so scary. We all have our own monsters that seem impossible to overcome,” 2D says sagely. “It’s not anyone’s fault, it’s just how it is.”

Murdoc scowls. “Does watching movies at this hour always turn you into a half-braindead Socrates? Or Plato? Hippocrates? He's just naming names now. He fidgets.  

On-screen, another character screams as one of the zombies bites her arm.

“Are you alright there, Muds?” Why did 2D have to pick up on everything? “Movie too scary for ya?”

“No!” Murdoc snaps. “It’s not that… It’s just...” Neither 2D nor the rum he grabbed from the fridge earlier had done anything to dull his current bout of nerves. Instead, all the tension has been gathering at the base of his neck. The throbbing in his head from before is even worse. He groans in frustration.

“You just seem a little on edge, that’s all.”

“...It’s my head.”

“Oh, you have a headache,” 2D says, seemingly pleased that it’s an issue well within the breadth of his expertise. “Do you need any help with it? I was talking with my mum about mine just last week; she gave me something good.”  

Murdoc perks up. He could count on one hand the number of scenarios where he would place his trust in 2D. Pain medicine was one of them. A strong painkiller could change everything. “Do you happen to any of those buggers with you now?”

“Sure,” 2D says, smiling as he moves closer to where Murdoc is sitting.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m um, well for this to work I’m actually going to have to touch your head.”

Immediately, Murdoc jerks away. “You what?!”

2D shrinks back in response. “It’s just a head massage, Muds.  My mum’s worried about the number of prescriptions I have so we cut one of the stronger ones out and replaced it with this. We wanted to see if it made a difference. I’ve been going to a massage therapist for the past two weeks or so. It doesn’t quite do the trick but it works well enough, I picked up some technique myself, uh, I think.”

“You can take all that geeky zen rubbish and sod off,” Murdoc mutters.

“Okay, Muds...alright.”

They continue watching the screen as victim after victim gets infected. 2D continues to interject with overlong descriptions about symbolism, zombie lore, and film technique. Murdoc weighs his options. If he’s being honest, he’s at a point where he would accept anything that might make him feel better. But why did it have to be 2D? On the other hand, the singer wouldn’t stop talking. Considering it was just the two of them, and no one else would ever have to find out, Murdoc makes his decision. Allowing 2D to touch his head in this scenario was justified. Interrupting yet another explanation about the folly of man, he asks, “Hey uh...2D? You know that massage you were talking about? Will giving me one make you shut up for more than ten minutes?”

“Oh..uh,” 2D sounds surprised. “Yeah. Yeah, we can give it a try.” Hesitantly, he moves behind Murdoc and begins.

2D’s fingers send tiny sparks along Murdoc’s scalp as he kneads the muscles in his forehead, moving downwards along his hairline. He dwells on how amazing it feels but pushes that thought to the side with haste. He keeps his eyes locked on the screen and the excessive depictions of gore and chaos. It’s an apt representation of turmoil he is currently feeling inside. What he finds so maddening about 2D, even more than his inscrutability and empty-headedness, was his willingness to be kind to Murdoc. Murdoc had spent the past twenty or so years convincing himself that kindness was not meant to be a part of his life. There was something inherent to his existence that repelled it from him. And he had come to accept that until 2D had to come along and mess it all up. It had to be because he was just too stupid, there was no other answer. Murdoc wasn’t sure he would be able to handle any other answer.

As 2D moves his hands to the back of Murdoc’s head, he begins softly humming. He begins following along to the soundtrack of the movie but soon trails off on his own. Evidently, watching the movie without any sort of verbalization was not going to happen. However, the melody he’s come up with is wistful and soothing. Murdoc makes a mental note to ask him about it in the morning to see if it would fit with some lyrics he had drafting. Slowly, and a bit self-consciously, Murdoc feels himself begin to relax.

“How does it feel so far? Is it working?” 2D asks.

Oh, it was working. More than that, Murdoc realizes a significant amount of his tension had abated. The darkness of the lobby no longer looks so menacing, the unpleasant memories that were hovering over him seem to have floated away. He's never been able to settle himself down from a bad night without copious amounts of alcohol. It’s an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation.

“I think the movie is almost over. Didn’t quite live up to the hype but it was still pretty entertaining after all. How about you?” 2D asks, still looking for a response.

Murdoc yawns. “I’ll give this director you were so excited about some credit. He knows his way around a good death scene. I don’t think I’ve ever seen fake blood used that way before.”

“The fake blood actually cause a lot of controversies because some of it was real animal blood. I almost didn’t buy it myself.”

“Ah. A man after my own heart.” 2D’s hands are still kneading the back of his head when Murdoc moves to lie down on his stomach.

“Oh, are you going to sleep now?” 2D asks.

“No. Keep going.” He would have never considered it earlier in the night but, as the singer's fingers continue to run through his hair, Murdoc muses that sleep may not sound so bad after all. Even though it was just 2D, it’s comforting to have him there. 

“So I guess it’s been helping then? My mum will glad to hear,” 2D says. “But you might want to run a comb through your hair a bit more often, it’s all greasy...also a bit tangled in the back.”

“Just...shut up.”

So he does, returning to the reflective melody he had been humming just minutes ago. It’s the singer’s soft croon that sticks in Murdoc's mind as he finally drifts off completely.

-------

When his eyes open, the first thing Murdoc notices is the half-empty bottle of rum he had left by his side. The next thing he notices is that he's still in the lobby, surrounded by blankets. He must have slept there the entire night. 

“Oh, morning, Muds,” comes a familiar voice just to the right of him. “You’re awake.”

Turning quickly in the direction of the voice, Murdoc finds himself face to face with 2D. “What the hell are you still doing here?” M demands, mortified, “Why didn’t you go back to your own room?”

“Well, I was going to do that, but once you laid down, I wanted to lay down too, and you rolled over on my arm and wouldn’t budge. I tried to tell you, but all you did was try and elbow me. You missed though,” 2D mumbles. It sounds like he’s still half asleep. “Then I guess I just nodded off.”

Murdoc feels his embarrassment beginning to morph into anger but decides to ignore it. He's pretty comfortable right where he is. “You’re lucky you’re my lead singer.” 2D was also lucky that he gave good head massages. “Because otherwise, you would be on some really thin ice right now.”

“We’ll be lucky to see any ice at all this winter what with all the warm weather.”

Usually, an obtuse response from 2D would have earned him a string of insults or a swat on the head. Today was not going to be one of those days. Murdoc turns again so that he’s facing away from the singer, pulling the blanket over his head to block out the light. He was going to savor the moment a bit longer. Despite 2D being 2D, it’s rare that he’s ever felt so at peace.

“Hey, Murdoc? Wait,” 2D says, “You never gave me my arm back.”

“Too bad. I’ll check back in a couple hours,” Murdoc grins beneath the blanket. He still couldn’t pass up a chance to inconvenience the singer at every opportunity. It was too much fun.

“Don’t be such a wanker,” 2D says as he attempts to jerk his arm out from underneath the bassist. “I was nice to you!”

He was right. And he was probably nicer than he deserved, given their history. For that reason, Murdoc would roll off his arm soon enough. He still wanted to talk to him about that song he had been humming.

The singer had surprised him last night. Murdoc knew that 2D had an uncanny ability to figure out how to annoy him to maximum effect, but he never would have expected him to also know what to do to put him at ease. Underneath the covers, he ponders what exactly this realization means to him. He isn’t sure, but he knows it means something. It wasn’t going to eliminate the underlying resentment he still clung to, nor was it going to solve his infinite list of issues. But at the very least, he could rest assured knowing that he wasn’t completely alone.

[arielsojourner]

I love the mini fic/headcanon of the 501st boys meeting a new droid, and it is Baymax but you know what would be even BETTER? Anakin “I’m building my mom a protocol droid out of literal trash that can speak 6 million languages to help her” Skywalker designing and building Baymax himself.

Imagine Anakin is more overtly hating of the fact that the men he has to lead into battle are SLAVES, owned by the Kaminoans and it’s causing him SERIOUS cognitive dissonance, self hatred and a slew of other mental, emotional and moral problems and Padme is WORKING on it in the Senate, (she is! and if she could find Anakin a therapist she would! Damn her husband’s popularity!) and the clones can’t get treated at regular hospitals. They belong and can only be treated by the Kaminoans who decide who gets “decommissioned” and who doesn’t. So Anakin is trying to deal with this shit and Padme is at wits end because the Senate is stalling on clone rights and there is like NO way she can safely get Anakin mental health care and she suggests in a moment of frustration that Anakin should BUILD a med droid for the men (and himself).

And Anakin pauses and his eyes light up and it’s like CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

And then Padme really warms to the idea because it should also treat MENTAL HEALTH as well and Anakin is getting excited and planning to head back to the Temple to grab all those crates of odds and ends he’s been hording under Obi-Wan’s nose since forever (He KNEW THERE WAS A REASON to keep all that stuff. He knew it! Take THAT, Obi-Wan). And he takes over Padme’s walk in closet (she willingly gives it up to him and it is a monster closet, like it should have its own episode on Coruscant Cribs big) and Anakin gets to work. And he finds a way to take his prototype on missions, and smuggle parts of it onto his ship while fabrication is done in the closet. 

And it is in the closet he has the idea not to make it of metal but make it soft and cuddly (all right, he fell asleep one to many times on a bed made of Padme’s enormous wardrobe of beautiful clothes while tinkering in the closet and it was a peaceful sleep dammit!) and some tests cause explosions and Threepio and Artoo help with the programming. Anakin ends up willingly staying put in the healer’s wing at the Temple when he is next injured and downloads and copies every medical record and manual and file he can get his hands on, centuries of healing and medical knowledge and then later while at a clone med base, Anakin has Artoo hack the computer for all clone data he can.

And then after months of work and two small fires and several devastating losses of troops, finally, finally . . .

“Hello! I am Baymax, your personal health care companion!”

Padme literally squees with joy. “He’s so cuuuuuttee! You made him cuuuttee!”

“I wanted him to be non-threatening. The men only deal with killer droids most of the time and the so called doctors at the med bases are cold and calculating so, I went with a different approach. Do you like him?”

“I was alerted to your need for medical attention when you said ow. On a scale of one to ten--” his belly lit up with an image of different faces “how would you rate your pain?”

“He’s perfect. The men will love him.” She kisses his cheek. “And I love that he will be there for you too.”

“I’m fine. No need to worry about me.”

“Really?” Padme asks with a raised brow. “Baymax? Is my husband fine?”

“I will scan you!” Baymax announces cheerfully. “Scan complete.”

“Now wait a minute--!”

“Anakin suffers exhaustion, elevated stress hormones, fatigue, numbness or tingling in his extremities, headache, and micro muscle spasms. A more detailed scan may be necessary to determine the extent of brain, spine, or nerve damage. Have you recently come into contact with large electrical fields?”

“Well, yes but--”

“On a scale of one to ten how would you rate your sleep habits?”

“He has nightmares and sometimes his arm and legs spasm in his sleep,” Padme offers, growing anxious at the scan’s results.

“Have you had any traumatic events in the recent past?”

“I have a clean bill of health from the Jedi Temple. I don’t think this is really  . . .”

Artoo rolls forward and started rattling off the horrible, traumatic events in Anakin’s life in binary.

“I see.” Baymax’s eyes fluttered for a moment. “Diagnosis: exhaustion, nerve damage, severe post traumatic stress disorder and borderline personality disorder. Recommended treatment? Psychotherapy, medication, enforced rest, self-care, and the care and companionship of loved ones and friends. Threepio, please contact all of Anakin’s friends and family.” 

And it only gets worse (or actually BETTER) from there. Padme has proper pre-natal care. The clone troopers have a personalized health care companion who can lift up to 1,000 lbs. and while Baymax is “not fast” he is kind of blaster proof (Anakin used some of Padme’s good fabric that helps with assassination attempts). Baymax somehow manages to make his way across pitch battlefields to carry out wounded men and keep them alive. 

Anakin decides to make Baymax some brothers of his own and soon every company has their own healthcare companion. You can tell which one is which by the markings on their squishy outsides. The brothers take their battalion colors very seriously. No one is allowed to kidnap a battalion’s Baymax. Baymax and his brothers are one of them. The original Baymax stays with Anakin and Padme and the galaxy is a very, very different place.

[ellewritesathing]

So Close  -  S.S. XLI

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist   Prev. | Part 41

Word-count: 6.7k+

A/N: not to like shamelessly self-promote but like. you guys might like this prompt i did for stiles 👀

You couldn’t sleep. Even with your friends safely back in your life and Stiles asleep next to you, you couldn’t sleep. Eventually, you rolled onto your side and watched the rise and fall of Stiles’ chest as he snored. You smiled and reached over to play with his hair. His heartbeat slowed after a little while and his snoring became a bit softer. 

Taking your hand back after a while and lying down again, you pulled up your shirt and ran your hand along where the bullet hole should have been. It was freaky; your skin was perfect. You’d been injured internally plenty of times and healed but this was the first time you’d had a proper external wound. It healed slowly at first, better than a human but nothing to write home about, and then Deaton gave you blood. It made you feel sick. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

“Hey,” Stiles said softly. When did he wake up? He yawned and moved closer, putting his hand on top of the one you had on your stomach. His thumb grazed where the wound should have been. “You know I didn’t mean what I said earlier, right? My mouth kinda moves before my brain does sometimes.” 

You smiled. “Yeah, I know.” You squeezed his hand before turning back onto your side to face him. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did, though. I mean, it is pretty weird.” 

“You could never be weird to me,” Stiles said. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “That was, like, ridiculously lame. I’m sorry. I just meant … you know. I’m usually the one being maimed, not you.” 

“Yeah and it hurts like a bitch,” you said with a sharp exhale and a roll of your eyes. 

Stiles laughed and lifted his hand to your face. “Yeah, the worrying isn’t that great either. You wanna trade back?” 

“Kind of wish we could give up both,” you said with a small smile. 

Stiles shifted and pulled you into his arms. He kissed the top of your head and sighed. “At least, for now, we’re both safe. Neither maimed nor worried.” 

“I like the sound of that.” You found his hand again. “Almost as much as your use of ‘nor.’”

“You liked that, huh?” 

“Yeah, it really distracted from the blatant lie that neither of us is worried right now.”

Stiles laughed and then it was quiet for a moment. You could hear Noah’s heart beating in his sleep down the hall, but Stiles’ beat louder. His fingers drummed your arms in the silence. You didn’t want to ruin the moment, but you had to tell him what happened. 

“Theo wants me in his pack,” you said. No use sugar-coating it. Stiles’ drumming stopped. “He called me the shadow wolf. Said that I was more like them than I was like you guys.” 

“He’s wrong,” Stiles said instantly. You could almost hear him frowning. “You know that, right?” 

“The thing is … I don’t think he is wrong,” you said quietly. “With all the chimeras - even before we knew they weren’t like us - I felt bound to them. Like whatever they’re made of … maybe I am too. I- I’m not going to join them. I hate Theo. And even if I didn’t, I could never leave you or Scott.”

Stiles was quiet, working hard to choose the right words. As much as you loved him for it, if he didn’t say something soon, you were going to throw up. When he did speak, he didn't start asking the questions you knew were bouncing around in his head. All he said was: “You promise you’re not gonna leave?” 

“I promise. No matter what.” 

With that out of the way, Stiles relaxed. Still, you waited for him to say something. To ask what you meant, maybe even what it felt like to 'be bound' to the chimeras. But he was quiet, so quiet that you thought he’d actually gone to sleep until he said, “I’m gonna kick his ass.” 

“Can I shoot him first? I’m still pretty pissed off about that.” 

“Of course. Then you can hold him down while I kick him in the-” 

With that colorful image in mind, you went to sleep with a smile on your face. Unaware of Stiles lying awake and anxious next to you.

---

Usually, after half of your group got injured and while you were making plans, things were at least a bit quieter for a few days. Unfortunately, the Dread Doctors weren’t so kind as your other foes; you’d only been shot yesterday and now you were racing down the highway with Scott and Stiles, chasing after the Beast behind a group of police. 

“Unit Five heading northwest on Crescent reporting an incredibly large … something,” Clark said over the radio.

Another deputy responded, “Unit Nine to Dispatch, I think I’ve got eyes on the same thing. Some kind of rabid animal.” 

“Unit Five to Nine, trust me: That’s no animal,” Clark said. 

You laughed and unbuckled, leaning forward to poke your head between Scott and Stiles in the front. “She’s not wrong.” 

“Yeah, but-” 

Scott was cut off by Strauss coming in over the radio. “Unit Six to Dispatch, we have a situation downtown. Multiple fatalities.”

The voice of the dispatcher sounded cold compared to the overwhelmed officers. “Copy, medics on the way. Do you have a perp insight, Unit Six?”

“Negative,” Strauss said. He sounded overwhelmed. You guessed as weird as Beacon Hills was, not many people knew how to react after a werewolf attack. “Looks like a 10-91E. Animal attack.”

“10-4, can you say what kind of animal?” the dispatcher asked. 

Stiles pulled out his radio before Strauss could answer. He also pumped the accelerator and you held onto Scott to keep from sliding back into your seat. “All units stay back. Do not engage,” Stiles said. “I repeat, do not engage.” 

“Stiles, get off the radio,” Noah snapped. You almost laughed as Stiles handed you the radio to put back. Still, Noah added, “All unit alert: Wait for back-up. Repeat: No one goes near this thing.”

“Unit Five reporting a sighting on Hill Road southbound.” 

“Unit Nine. I’ve got it turning off Oakridge, southbound on Beachwood.”

“All units, this is Dispatch. We’ve got a 911 call with an additional sighting on Mitchell.”

“Wait a second? Beachwood to Mitchell?” Stiles asked. 

“It’s headed back for the hospital,” Scott said. 

“Mom’s working tonight,” you said. “I’ll call her. Stiles, you gotta tell your dad.” 

Stiles grabbed the radio instantly. “It’s headed to the hospital. Dad-” 

“Stiles, get off this channel,” Noah said.

Stiles started arguing with his dad and you bounced your leg as you waited for your mom to answer her phone. The first call rang out so you texted her and tried again. 

Melissa sounded tired when she answered. “Hey, honey, we’re pretty swamped at the-” 

“Mom, you’ve gotta evacuate the hospital,” you rushed out. She started arguing but you talked over her. “Whatever the Beast is, it’s heading towards the hospital. And it’s going to kill people.”

You fell back into your seat as Stiles changed course towards Beacon Memorial. He was going as fast as the Jeep could manage, but the drive felt agonizingly slow. It was made worse by the constant updates from the police radio. The latest being a man on fire running into Beacon Memorial. 

When you eventually did get to the hospital, it felt abandoned and eerily similar to that night with the durach and a dying Cora Hale. You shoved those thoughts aside when a gun cocked behind you, overridden by your instinct to pull Stiles behind you. 

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a breath when you realized the threat was only Noah. He held his index finger to his mouth and shushed you. 

As much as you loved Noah, you could have strangled him right there. Once again, you shoved those thoughts aside when the lights flickered and snarling rose in the distance. 

“Fourth floor,” Scott said. 

You all nodded and headed up as quickly as you could. Noah took the lead, followed by Scott and then Stiles - you’d insisted on taking the rear in case anything snuck up on you guys.

The fourth floor was ruined. Almost none of the lights still worked (luckily, not a problem for you and Scott), the electricity crackled through torn-open wires, and parts of the ruins were on fire. You wandered around the dark halls until something flew down the hallway in front of you. Since you noticed it first, you pulled Stiles into you and Scott pulled Noah back just before the fireball roared past. 

It hit some partitioning and the flames went out. That wasn’t a random fireball; that was Parrish. Cut, charred, and disoriented Parrish. Parrish with glowing eyes. 

His eyes extinguished as Noah made his way over to him, but you couldn’t focus on their reunion. Something had thrown Parrish across the fourth floor. Something big.  

Scott walked ahead of you, but soon you found a paw print in the dust. The two of you didn’t need to say anything to know that you were going to follow the trail. The paw prints started changing, turning into something smaller and more human. Eventually, you found a sneaker print. 

It struck you as odd that it would be a shoe print and not a footprint. Parrish was made out of fire and completely naked when you found him, and the Beast was made out of shadows. Maybe it was just different. Parrish wasn’t a chimera. At least you didn’t think he was. 

“Scott …” You weren’t sure what you were going to say.

“I know,” he said with a sigh.

---

Once again, you and your friends were gathered around the island in your kitchen talking through the logistics of a crazy plan. The only thing that made this time different from all the others was the fact that Lydia was missing. 

“We get into Eichen, we get into the Closed Unit, we get Lydia, and we get out,” Stiles said, summarizing his (already very long, very detailed) explanation.  

“And we have to do it all of this while getting past orderlies, guards, electric door locks, and a Mountain Ash barrier,” Scott said.

“You guys have a plan for all that?” Malia asked. 

Stiles pulled out a keycard. “I stole this off an orderly when I visited Lydia.” He paused, looking over at the card. “But it’s useless ‘cause they reset the codes each night.”

“So why did you take it?” Kira asked. 

“He’s building up to that,” you said quietly, taking your eyes of Stiles to look at Kira.

“The only way to get Lydia out of Eichen is to make that keycard work again,” Scott said.

“And how are you going to do that?” Liam asked. You held back a smile.

Stiles held out a hand. “We’re getting to that, okay? Just listen.” He spun the laptop around to show you guys a data table. “I pulled all the history off the keycard. Two weeks ago, there was a brownout and the security system rebooted. During a reboot, all of the keycards revert back to a default code. So, if we trigger a reboot …”

“The card goes back to the default code,” you said. “All the keycards work again.” 

“But how are we going to cause a brownout?” Kira asked. 

“That’s your part,” Scott said with a hopeful smile. “You’re going to draw power from the mainline, but only enough to cause the brownout.”

That’s where Stiles jumped in to ruin their moment. “But not a blackout. If you do that, you send Eichen into lockdown which would be bad. Very, very bad.”

You touched Stiles’ arm lightly to get his attention. He was freaking Kira out. Stiles looked at you with an expression that said he was sorry, and you gave him an encouraging smile. He got a little carried away sometimes but he always meant well. 

Scott, forever oblivious, kept talking and tapped on the blueprints that covered the island. “There’s an electrical room behind the reception counter,” he said. “The main power line goes into two breakers that run power to all of Eichen.”

“Okay, slight problem,” Kira said, looking ready to have a panic attack. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“That’s okay, you have time to practice,” Scott said with another trademarked hopeful smile. 

“Let’s say all this goes perfectly,” Malia started in a voice that said she expected none of this to go perfectly. “How does the brownout get us into the Closed Unit of Eichen?”

“The system takes five minutes to reboot.” Stiles looked over at Malia. “In those five minutes, all the alarms will be turned off. And the keycard should work-” 

“And then Liam, you, me, and Y/N get Stiles to the gate of the Closed Unit,” Scott said.

“After that, Stiles is on his own,” you said. Stiles reached for your hand under the table. “He’s the only one of us who can get through the mountain ash barrier.”

“And when we’re gone, all anyone’s going to think is that there was a reboot of the security system caused by a brownout,” Scott finished.

“So, uh … any questions?” Stiles asked. 

They all started talking at the same time. From Liam: How do we get into Eichen House in the first place. Malia wanted to know what the worst-case scenario was. Kira asked what happened if she couldn’t trigger the brownout.

“Okay, admittedly, a lot could go wrong,” Stiles said, holding up his free hand in surrender. 

“Everything could go wrong,” Liam said. 

Stiles' open hand turned into a fist as you tilted your head. “Biscuit,” you said softly. Liam shrugged and started defending himself when Scott started talking.

“Guys, if we don’t do this, we lose Lydia,” Scott said. “She’s going to die in there tonight. And she might take a lot of innocent people with her.”

“We can do this,” you said. Your friends didn’t look convinced. “Okay, we’ve done a lot worse. At least this time we have a plan.” 

---

Eichen House still freaked you out, but you could only imagine what it felt like to Stiles. So many bad things had happened to him here, and you had the feeling that more bad things were still going to happen. Then again, maybe the paranoia was coming from the fact that you were inside a body bag and lying next to an actual dead body.

Parrish was surprisingly good under pressure; when the guard made him open the bags, he was completely calm. Your heart spiked at the sound of the first zip being undone, but then Parrish started opening yours and you got ready for a fight. The fight never came. The guard valued his dinner too much. 

Once you were in the morgue, you had to wait a few minutes before any of you could do anything. Stiles' heart was beating out of his chest. Admittedly, so was yours. You tore the bag open without waiting for the others, but they didn’t need any more encouragement after they heard you breaking out. 

“Oh my god,” Stiles said between gasps of air. “Never again.” 

“How much time do we have?” you asked as you got to your feet. Liam was closest, so you helped him out of his bag and to his feet. He mumbled a thank you as you waited for an answer.

Scott checked his phone. “Fifteen minutes, starting now.”

“Then let’s get started!” Stiles started fumbling to get out of his bag and fell to the floor. “Ow! Jesus.” 

You hurried over to help Stiles up. He muttered obscenities the whole time but he accepted your help nonetheless. Scott got out of his bag safely, and then you just had to wait for the orderlies to leave the hallway. As soon as they were gone, you were on the move. 

You wanted Scott to take the lead but Stiles knew this place better than any of you did, and personal knowledge trumped an hour spent studying floor plans any day. The best you could do was follow behind him and keep a careful watch for anything that might be a threat. 

The orderlies blocking your way to the closed unit were definitely a threat. 

You pulled Stiles back and Scott grabbed Liam. The four of you pressed yourselves against the wall in an attempt to hide, and the memory of doing something similar with Isaac, Erica, and Stiles popped into your mind. That felt like such a long time ago. 

“What are they doing here?” Scott whispered.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said, stealing a glance down the hall. “Their rounds should’ve ended five minutes ago.” 

Liam was decidedly less subtle with his look at the orderlies. “I can take them,” he said. 

Both Stiles and Scott glared at him for a moment. “No one’s taking anyone,” Scott said. 

“How much time?” Stiles asked, cutting Scott's alpha moment short. 

Scott checked his phone and sighed. “Three minutes.”

“I’ll just knock them out and hide the bodies,” Liam said. He was adorably oblivious. 

Stiles looked so close to slapping him that you instinctively reached for his hand to calm him down. “Oh my god, please stop,” he said.

One of the patients banged on the glass and scared you all out of your mini-argument. “Did you talk to the doctor?” he asked. 

“What?” Liam whispered. 

“Did you talk to the doctor?” he repeated. You looked over at Stiles uncertainly. “I haven’t had my medication. I need ten milligrams at 8am, 15 milligrams at 1pm, and no more than 20 at dinner.”

“We’ll get the doctor,” Scott said.

“Doctor Fenris?” the patient asked. Another beat of silence and you hoped that your nod was enough to calm him. “Doctor Fenris.” Then he started crying. He hit the glass as he said, “They took Doctor Fenris.”

“Guys-” You flinched when he hit the glass again. “He’s going to blow our cover. I can take the blame and get the orderlies out of here.” 

“No way, you’re not going anywhere,” Stiles said. “Scott, do something.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Scott whispered.

The patient stopped banging on the glass, but he was still distressed. “I haven’t had my medication. I need to see the doctor.” Stiles looked down the hallway. The orderlies were coming closer. “They took Doctor Fenris.”

“Somebody shut him up,” Stiles said. 

“I need to see the doctor!”

“Shut him up.” 

You pulled your hand away from Stiles before he could argue and stepped into the hallway. “I told you: I don’t know where the doctor is, alright?” you said to the patient. “I’m just looking for my brother- nurses, could you help me? This place is like a freaking maze.” 

“How did you get here?” one of the orderlies asked, roughly grabbing hold of your arm. 

“I was looking for my brother. They said he was moved to another unit and that they’d take me to see him but no one ever came.” You shook your head and gave them a very clueless smile. “I’m sorry. Is this area, like, restricted or something?” 

The orderly that had your arm looked ready to bite your head off but the other one just shook his head and gave you a tired smile. Either he wasn't paid enough or people wandering around the halls was a common occurrence.

“Let’s take you back to the reception area, okay?” he said. “They can sign you in and track down your brother. You can come to see him during visiting hours tomorrow.” 

You forced a laugh and started following them down the stairs not too far away from the gate that your friends would need to break through in a few seconds. “You’re the nicest person I’ve run into all night,” you told him, careful to smile at the grumpy one too. 

You carried on with your charade all the way back to the reception area, and then you gave them an annoyingly over-the-top thank you. They smiled and told you to wait for the nurse behind the counter to come back. You did not. As soon as they were out of sight, you made a b-line for the electrical room. 

Malia immediately grabbed you and threw you against the wall as soon as you opened the door. She looked confused to see you but still held onto you. 

“Relax, it’s just me,” you said, holding your hands up defensively. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked. "You're supposed to be with Scott and Stiles."

“The dummies almost got busted,” you said with a small shrug. “I fixed it and came to check on you guys. Hey, Kira. How’s it going?” 

Kira looked away from her small opening in the door and gave you a small smile. “Could be better. I don’t know if these guards are supposed to be here. How are we going to get out?”

Malia let go of you and the two of you walked over to check out the guards. “We don’t want to set off any alarms until Lydia is out,” she said. 

“You’re right. Maybe we could-” 

You stopped talking when one of the guards came in over the radio. The perimeter guard hadn’t checked in. You looked at Malia when the two guards rushed out to see what caused the delay. She shrugged and closed the door. 

"Not our problem," she said.

Kira leaned against the door to get a better listen, but you and Malia didn’t need to. You heard the nurse loud and clear when he told someone that visiting hours were over, and then you heard Tracy tell him that they weren’t there to visit. 

“Shit,” you whispered.

They pulled the nurse across the counter and slammed him to the ground. Tracy wanted to finish him off, but Theo said they were on a schedule and it was better to leave him. You, Kira, and Malia held a collective breath until the chimeras left. 

Malia was the first one out the door and she slapped the nurse to get him to wake up. It didn’t work but at least his heart was beating. 

“It’s started,” Kira said, looking down at her electrified hands. 

“Then we need to get you out of here,” you said. You reached out to grab her arm but stopped when you remembered how she fried Scott. “Let’s go.”

“But what about the others?” Kira asked. 

“They should already be back at the morgue,” Malia said. “We need to go.”

Kira took a second to decide and then jumped over the nurse and the three of you made a run for the morgue before Kira messed up Eichen’s frequency again. The others weren’t there, so you hoped they’d gone to the van instead. The alarm started blaring before you could share your theory. 

You grabbed the sides of your head and collapsed in on yourself. Malia grabbed your arm to pull you out and reached for the doorknob, but it was electrified and both of you got electrocuted as a result. To top it off, the alarm still made your ears bleed. 

Malia took a deep breath once she got back to her feet. “Lockdown,” she said. 

You were still cringing on the ground when Scott started roaring. When your body got to its feet, it felt like being possessed again; you weren’t the one who moved your body. But once the brief discomfort was over, your head was clear and the alarm didn’t hurt so much anymore. 

 “Something’s wrong,” you rushed out. “I need to go help them.” 

“No,” Malia argued, turning back to the door as the lights went out. “We need to get out of here.” 

You were still arguing when Kira started lighting up again. The buzzing of the electricity didn’t freak you out so much as how worried she looked. She was terrified of messing things up again. 

“I don’t know how long I’m going to last,” Kira said.

“How did you stop it before?” Malia asked. 

“Scott carried me outside, which almost killed him,” Kira said. 

“I’ve already died. It’s not so bad,” you said. You shrugged. “I can take you out.”

“Maybe we could try grounding her to something,” Malia said. “Lydia was teaching me about circuits before-” 

You tackled Malia as a bolt of electricity shot out from Kira and hit the door where Malia had been. You held onto her as Kira’s lightning struck every metal surface it could find. 

“You guys have to get out of here!” she yelled.

“We’re not leaving you,” you told her. 

Kira hit one of the body holds as she turned her back to you. You and Malia got to your feet as Kira cried, “I should’ve stayed in the desert with the Skinwalkers. I can’t control this. I’m never going to be able to.”

“Kira, it worked,” Malia said. “You saw it work. You controlled it enough to cause the brownout. You can stop it.”

“I can’t!” Kira turned to glare at you and her eyes glowed an angry golden color. “Go!” 

Even if you wanted to, an escape wasn’t possible because Kira electrified the entirety of her side of the room. Malia pulled you closer to her again and you both waited for the electrical storm to pass, careful not to touch anything conductive. 

The storm passed as quickly as it started.

“Kira?”

Slowly, you both got to your feet, but then you had to pull Malia back from grabbing Kira’s unconscious body. She argued with you but you shook your head. 

“She’ll kill you,” you said. 

“She’s right,” Josh said. You both pulled away from Kira to focus on him. “Electricity is still coming off your friend. I can feel it from here. But I can help her.”

“Why?” Malia asked. 

“Because I need your help.” Josh stepped away from the door and revealed Corey bleeding out in the hallway. “With him.”

“Oh my god, Corey.” You started forward when Malia caught your arm. She didn’t trust them; you didn’t blame her. “Mal, we’ve gotta help him.” 

Malia let go and you rushed over to Corey. You tried to lift him but he was in too much pain. Josh took Corey’s other side and looked over at you. “I knew you’d help,” he said. 

You didn’t know what to say, so you just hurried to get Corey on one of the exam tables. He was in so much pain. Almost his entire body was charred. He must have gotten caught up with Parrish. 

“Why isn’t he healing?” Josh asked. 

“Maybe he can’t. Maybe it’s too much,” Malia said. 

“He’s going to die, isn’t he?” Josh asked. 

“His heartbeat is getting slower,” you said. “But I can try to take away his pain. It could help.” 

“It might even get him to start healing,” Malia said generously. “But we’ll only do it if you help Kira.” More sparks flew and you all ducked. “You said you could help!” 

“Yeah, but it’s not like taking voltage from a car battery,” Josh argued. “She’s got a lot more power than that.” Corey groaned on the table. “Are you two going to do something or not?”

“Mal-” 

“After you help her. I don’t trust you,” Malia said.

“I don’t trust you either!” 

“Josh, do you trust me?” you asked. You’d never been close before, but you were something else now. “You said you knew I’d help him. I will, I promise.” 

More sparks. 

“We go at the same time,” Malia said, snapping his attention back to her. “Deal?”

Josh nodded reluctantly and walked over to Kira. You and Malia held each of Corey’s arms as Josh knelt over Kira. “On three?” he asked. “One.”

“Two.” 

“Three.”

The lights started flickering as Josh absorbed Kira’s electricity, but it was the least of your concerns after only a second of taking Corey’s pain. Until now, you’d never understood the phrase ‘blinding pain’ but with your vision blurring and your entire body burning, it had new meaning. 

But Corey’s heart started beating again. Rapidly. He was breathing. Kira gasped for air on the floor but it was almost impossible to hear over Josh’s screams. 

Between you and Malia, Corey’s pain faded after a minute. Josh managed to get Kira conscious and not electrified. You stayed with him but Malia went to check on Kira and Josh came back to Corey.

“Anybody know how we’re supposed to get out of here?” Corey asked, sounding scared and hurt.

“This place is still in lockdown,” Malia said.

“But it’s not just locked,” Kira said after shooting a look at the door.

“Yeah, I can feel it, too,” Josh said.

“Well, what are we supposed to do?” Corey asked. “Just wait here?” 

“We had a backup plan,” you said. Malia didn’t look like she wanted you to tell them, but you did anyway. “Mason is supposed to reset the transformer.”

“How’s he gonna do that?” Josh asked, at the same time that Corey asked if you meant his Mason. 

“He’s got the blueprints of the building,” Kira said. “And he has the full map of Eichen’s electrical system. All he has to do is get into the transformer shed behind the building.” 

“Don’t worry. Mason knows exactly what he’s doing,” Malia said. 

You had to smile to yourself. Thinking back to your first few weeks with Malia when you couldn’t stand her and she said that she would leave you in the desert, you almost couldn’t believe how much she’d grown. 

Malia and Kira kept huddled by the body holds while Josh rushed to the door to wait. Everyone was healing now, but you still felt ready to throw up. Taking away Corey’s pain had taken it out of you and if you didn’t drink some blood soon then you weren’t going to be much of a help to anyone. Surprisingly, Corey stayed with you by the exam tables. You heard the shutters on the windows roll back and then Josh pushed the door open. 

“He did it!” Josh said. 

“We gotta get to the Jeep,” you said, hopping off the table and running out with Kira and Malia. 

It didn’t take long to get to the parking lot, and even less time to get to the front and pick up the guys and Lydia. You tossed the keys to Scott as you got out and asked if Lydia was okay. 

“No, and we need to go,” Scott said. “We need to get Lydia out of here.”

Before he could get very far, Parrish collapsed onto the Jeep’s hood with claw marks all over his back. “Sorry, but she’s coming with me,” Tracy said. She held onto Lydia, no doubt paralyzing her as she did. 

“Okay, Tracy. Just wait,” Scott said. “You don’t know what’s about to happen.” 

“I’m taking her. That’s what’s happening,” Tracy said. “And none of you are going to do a thing-” 

Electricity crackled and Tracy collapsed. Natalie stood behind her with one of the guard’s nightsticks in her hands. You and Stiles reached out to catch Lydia, but you faltered and he caught her. 

“Could somebody please get my daughter out of this hellhole?” Natalie asked.

You helped get Lydia into the car with Stiles in the back. She looked awful, and you could smell the dried blood and gore in her hair. It was nothing on her fear though, nothing on Stiles’ fear either. 

Scott drove as fast as he could, but Lydia’s heart was beating too quickly. Without any warning, she let out a scream that burst your eardrum closest to her. Heightened senses meant you were weaker when it came to loud noises like that, and Lydia's scream wasn't like any other loud noise. Stiles started bleeding and the mirrors cracked. You yelled at Scott to drive faster. 

Even though the drive to the animal clinic was stressful, helping Deaton treat Lydia was even worse. Your brain was addled by the scream, and she kept screaming until Deaton injected her with mistletoe, straight into the spot where she’d been trepanned. Her final scream shattered all the windows in the clinic but you reacted too slowly. 

Scott protected Lydia but Stiles tackled you to the ground, bits of glass sinking into his back. 

“Stiles,” you said softly, hands reaching up to his face. The side of his face was still bloody from Lydia’s screams. “What are you-” 

“Someone has to take care of you,” he said quietly. 

You were both snapped out of your moment by Scott trying and failing to wake Lydia up again. You held onto Stiles’ hand as the two of you joined the others by the table. You couldn’t even hear her heartbeat. 

She let out a low moan as her heart started again. Lydia looked terrified when she opened her eyes again but she held onto Stiles’ other hand when he reached for her. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. She held onto him and nodded quickly. “You’re okay.” He took a deep breath. “Do you want to try to sit up?” 

Stiles helped Lydia sit up, wincing slightly from the glass, and she looked around slowly. Her eyes landed on Natalie in the doorway. “Mom?” 

“Oh, honey.” Natalie rushed over to Lydia and pulled her into a hug. She looked relieved for the first time in weeks. 

“They saved me,” Lydia said weakly. “Stiles saved me.”

Natalie looked up from Lydia to make eye contact with Stiles. “Thank you,” she said. After her blow up the day before, you knew it meant a lot to him for her to apologize. 

Stiles smiled at her to let her know that everything was fine, but then he winced again and ruined his heroic image. He still looked pretty heroic to you, but Natalie was a mother and all she saw was a broken boy covered in glass. 

“Let’s get you home, huh?” Natalie flattened Lydia’s hair and kissed her head. She looked ready to cry when she touched Lyd’s trepanation wound. “You can take a bath and we can watch The Notebook. Hmm?” 

“I can come with, if you want,” Scott offered with a smile. 

Lydia nodded, not bothering to hide the tears in her eyes. She thanked you on her way out and soon it was just you, Stiles, and an awful lot of broken glass. 

“Sit with me,” you said gently, tugging on Stiles’ arm to bring him to the exam table. It was so reckless of him to shield you like that but you couldn’t be mad at him. Not when he'd gotten hurt protecting you. “Do you want me to take your pain while I take the glass out?” 

“And here I was thinking you wanted to makeout with me to say thank you for saving you from all that glass,” Stiles said with a lazy smile as he watched you get Deaton’s tweezers. You gave him a look and he laughed. “No, I can handle it.” 

“You sure?” 

Stiles nodded and you bit your lip. You weren’t sure if you had it in you to take his pain away, but still. Taking out all this glass was going to take a while and it was going to hurt. 

You started with the shards furthest away from his spine, doing your best to ignore his wincing. The closer you got to his spine, the worse his pain got. You put your hand on his shoulder and tried to take his pain away like you did with Corey, but you pulled your hand away when it started burning. 

Thankfully, Stiles was too wrapped up to notice your blunder, but it was pretty hard not to when your hand started shaking. The glass clattered into the metal dish with the other shards and you took a deep breath. 

“Hey, you okay?” Stiles asked, looking over his shoulder at you. 

“Yeah, just-” You took a breath and squeezed your eyes shut. “Just a bit light-headed. It’s been a while since I’ve had anything to drink.” 

“Oh,” Stiles said softly. He looked down for a second and then used his hands to turn on the table to face you, no doubt opening some fresh wounds in the process. “You know you could do it if you wanted to.” 

You frowned. “Do what?” 

“Drink my blood,” Stiles said. God, when did this become your life? “If you can’t wait until we get home … you could do it.” 

“No. No, I couldn’t,” you said. You took a step back. “Stiles, I would kill you. And even if I could control it - which I can’t - I could never ask you to do that.” 

“But you didn’t ask, I offered.” Stiles reached for your hand and you felt so guilty for putting him through this.  

“I know, but I- I can’t risk hurting you,” you said. 

Stiles was quiet for a second. He looked down and drummed on the table for a second. “Malia told me you don’t heal without it.” 

Snitch.

“Yeah, but I’m not the one that’s hurt right now.” You sighed and took a step forward to press your forehead to his, your hand holding onto his neck. Your thumb ran across his neck. “Let’s just get you cleaned up, alright?”

Stiles was so still, but eventually, he took a breath and nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. He kissed your hand before you pulled away to finish cleaning him up. He took in a sharp breath when you pulled out the largest (and, thankfully, the last) piece of glass. You apologized repeatedly but it just made Stiles laugh and then wince. “Hey, at least it's over now,” Stiles said in an attempt to comfort you. 

You laughed and put the tweezers down. “Close. We still have to clean the cuts if you don’t want an infection.” 

“Maybe I want an infection. I could get superpowers,” Stiles said between yawns. You walked around the table and he pulled you into a hug. His face was in your hair when he mumbled, “Do you think it’ll scar?” 

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” you said. You pulled back and ran a hand through his hair. “This part will be quick, okay? Can I take your shirt off?” 

“You can take my shirt off any time, babe.” Stiles leaned back and gave you a lazy grin which made you laugh despite the horrible night you’d had. 

“Slow down, Stilinski. Let’s finish this first.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Don’t call me ma’am.” 

“Sir, yes, sir.” 

You rolled your eyes and pushed the open button-up off his shoulders so he could take his arms out of the sleeves. You lifted the bottom of his gray t-shirt and threw it at him when he made another flirty joke. 

Cleaning and bandaging the cuts went a lot faster, which was a relief because you were exhausted and Stiles must have been freezing. When the last of the bandages were on his back, you leaned in and wrapped your hands around him.  

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said softly. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Let’s go home. Do you have a shirt in the Jeep that I can bring you?”

“What’s wrong with my other shirt?” Stiles asked. 

“It’s torn and covered in blood,” you said as you pulled away. 

Stiles shrugged and pushed himself off the table. “You just want to see me walk around shirtless for a while.” 

“You know me well, Stilinski.” You took his hand in yours and lifted it to kiss him again. Stiles rolled his eyes but he pulled you closer anyway, only letting go so you could lock up the animal clinic and then to pull on a sweatshirt. 

Exhausted and worn out from the night, you fell asleep almost immediately as Stiles drove home. You weren’t sure what it was about the Jeep that did that to you; maybe the familiarly worn seats or how Stiles pumped the heat all the way up, or maybe just the way Stiles would drum on the steering wheel and play his favorite song on repeat. He was one of the only people who you trusted, and the Jeep was one of the only places you still felt safe.

Part 42

Tagged: @ietss​  @used-avocado​

[mothergayselle]

Damsel? Me? Never // Mahariel/Zev/Alistair

words: 2k rating: T summary: mahariel is stubborn and zevran loves a damsel. when you overwork yourself, who else would you want to sweep you off your feet? (alistair disapproves +15)

 (( read on ao3 )) 

xxxxx

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, the fainting. Neither were the unending, incessant patrols at night. Mahariel must have rounded the camp a hundred times, and still she slithered along the shadows of the Brecilian forest like Death, except, she needed the sleep.

Zevran’s accent was curled, a midnight rose unfurling in the fragrant air. “May I suggest we return to camp soon?” he prompted. “You’re looking a little…”

Mahariel’s subsequent glare teased a smile from him.

“Well, radiant as always, of course. However, fatigued would also be an accurate description.”

During patrols, Mahariel always insisted on taking point — which, the group noticed, as a duelist — put her in the direct line of fire. If she wasn’t always so utterly silent, it would’ve been a matter of contention.

Still, her persistence to spend each night patrolling often drove Alistair to pace the entire camp until their inevitable return. And they had returned, every time, although this did little to ease his worrying.

Mahariel continued to slink through the brambles of the forest, folding each footstep into quarters as she padded with the side of her feet. “It’s not my fault I can’t sleep,” she hissed, rounding the trunk of a redwood. “I have, uh, what did Zathrian call it—”

“Post-traumatic stress—“

“—Yeah. Exactly. I didn’t ask for a troubled childhood.”

Their breaths were waifs spilling out of their throats. “Ah, yes. The plight of the wounded child,” he mused.

“You would know.”

The remark didn’t hurt — on the contrary. The vitriol of Mahariel’s words was intoxicating, like a fine wine laced with the sweetest poison. Zevran’s mouth tingled at the taste. “Indeed, I would. In fact, I used my childhood quite often when working with the Crows. Women love a broken man.” His tongue lingered on that last part.

Mahariel’s cadence never stuttered. “Yeah, all right. Same old story. Men and women, drink and sex. Money. Blood splattering onto your boots. More sex. More money. Blah blah blah. Shut up,” she murmured. “I’m working here.”

The jests laid hollow, and Zevran frowned. Throughout her babble, it’d been clear. Even in the dark, Mahariel’s grip on her daggers was slack. Too weak for the flourishes she favored. If a darkspawn or a werewolf were to ambush them now, the blades would slip through her fingers.

Nevertheless, he made a conscious effort to respond in turn. “I’m waiting for your imminent unconsciousness, my dear. Judging by your posture and the shuffling of your feet, you have but minutes.”

Mahariel scoffed, and he watched as she momentarily paused their scouting. She rolled her neck, wincing, and turned to face Zevran’s nimble frame. “I’m tired, Zev. That hardly makes me a damsel in distress.”

When he grinned, the corners of her mouth spasmed. It was impossible not to smile at such a mischievous expression. Like a wolf, Leliana had said. Minus the canines.

Zevran tilted his head at an angle that exposed the hard, fine line of his jaw. The dimple on his cheek, as wily as he, winked at her. “If only, madame. However, should you ever change your mind—“ His grin only widened at the slight narrowing of her eyes. “—Allow me to be the prince who, helplessly allured by your beauty, sweeps you off your weary feet. I should want for nothing more.”

He added a bow for effect, and the full moon calcined his hair into silver.

“Do you ever tire of monologuing?” she teased, chewing the inside of her cheek.  An exercise to control the smile assembling beneath the surface. “It must be a lot of work, lying so often.”

The next exhale was long, a release of something hard. When Mahariel proceeded to sheathe a dagger, Zevran’s gaze was drawn to the way its point scraped against the holder before plunging in. A wave of exhaustion seemed to visibly tug at the Warden, and he inched forward, returning his own weapons to the scabbards behind his neck.

“Okay,” she said. Her eyelids fluttered, and she swallowed nervously as she sheathed the other dagger. “I’m ready to head back now.” Mahariel sneered at Zevran’s advancement. “I’m not going to collapse, idiot.”

The forest itself seemed to catch the guile. Her words were snatched away by its perfect darkness, beckoned out of her throat by its lull. The animals were quiet — save for the owls. No monster trudged their way. Camp was safe. Camp had been safe, but Mahariel chose to toil regardless and they all knew it was futile to stop her.

In her defense, there were many nights where she had intercepted shadowy villains, berserk-brained and intent on attacking their lodging. Mahariel was diligent, and that diligence was why they turned to her as their leader. On nights like these, though…well.

Mahariel grimaced. The tattoos on her face shimmered when her head lolled and greeted the stars. The Creators. The Maker. Zevran didn’t know. One of those, perhaps. Her copper hair fought the moonlight slicing into it, holding onto a sliver of color before it could be bleached completely.  A rumble of defiance purred out of her, and she swore a string of oaths that surprised even Zevran. He only stalked, one half-foot at a time, until a respectable amount of room lay between them.

“Zevran?” she asked, bringing a clean hand to her face.

His face remained smooth as he replied. “Yes, dear?”

Mahariel’s eyes snapped open once more to shoot him a withering glare. “I hate you.”

Contempt in the face of exhaustion was impressive. Zevran’s lips arced, the smirk pulling at their fullness. His eyes, though. Did she see how they tightened? How they remained untouched and cold?

“Zev,” she said, scowling, her mouth loosening open. “Catch me.”

It was, unfortunately, a dance they’ve performed before. A dark routine, of sorts. Mahariel reached for him as her knees failed, though she was unconscious by the time she sank into his chest. Zevran huffed in disapproval. Silly woman. Stubborn woman. This wasn’t dramatic at all.

The velocity made it easy enough. With one hand he cradled the Warden’s head while the other, yes, swept both feet off the forest floor. Zevran felt the impulse to glower, to physically express the criticism he felt brewing inside his belly, but the desire quickly evaporated. Mahariel, limp and haunted, was hard to accuse. Even when a damsel.

It wasn’t just the blue half-moons etched beneath her eyes, or the small cut on her lip that she picked at. A few fainting spells hardly compared to the friendship she’d so easily offered, even after their objectionable meeting. With the Warden inert in his arms, Zevran trudged back to camp.

<-----------------------------------x------------------------------------>

They always slept in shifts, but there he was, circling the fire, stomping a trench into the Earth.

Honestly.

Alistair intercepted them as they emerged from the shadows.  “Again?” His voice was breathless as it echoed across the campsite. It was a good thing they’d secured the perimeter, then.

Mahariel stirred in his arms. “Mm?” It took her a moment to recognize that it was his face, and not Alistair’s, peering back at her. She swore something filthy, a curse Zevran frequented on his own — had he rubbed off on her? Glee registered in the back of his mind. He’d save that for later.

He couldn’t help but grin at her confusion. “Hello, my dear.”

By then, Alistair had approached with long, anxious strides. Poor bastard. He’d covered the span of the whole campsite in a matter of seconds. “Lyna?”

Zevran ignored the annoyance flashing across Alistair’s face upon greeting him with a nod. “She's only been out for a bit. The coast is clear, by the way. We made sure many times.” That last part was for himself.  

“Don’t be passive,” Mahariel slurred out. She turned her face away from his chest and breathed deeply, although her eyes remained closed. The lashes on each undulated as they sought for something to help them open, perhaps. Brambles of blackness. “It’s unworthy of you.”

Mahariel eased into Alistair’s hold easily. Zevran gently deposited the Warden as soon as he’d reached for her. A poor bastard he was, yes, but the stress carved so deeply into the man’s jaw evoked a modicum of sympathy.

“Is she hurt?” he asked. Zevran shook his head in an answer.

Mahariel, meanwhile, was beginning to revive. “She is not hurt, thank you.” The belligerence in her voice softened Alistair’s panic somewhat — his teeth finally unclenched and the air was filled with the sound of the subsequent sigh. The noise drew her attention upwards, and she frowned.

“I’m sorry. I’d planned to take it easy tonight but I just kept seeing things in the dark.” The frowned deepened, tightening her brows. “Or so I thought.”

Zevran watched their exchange politely. Alistair may have more questions after he’s put her to bed like the damsel she really wasn’t, but sometimes made herself to be.

Every word she spoke visibly dissolved the worry from Alistair’s body. It was a bit sickening to watch, but he couldn’t say he wouldn’t do the same in his place. “Yes, well, who knows what could’ve swooped in from the treetops?” He then realized the stupidity of his words. “Uh, um, that probably… was not helpful.”

Zevran felt like rolling his eyes.

“Let us retire, shall we? I’m beginning to get the feeling that the others feel as if they are missing out.” He moved his chin in the direction of the site, where Leliana and Wynne had gathered together. The rest were asleep, although Morrigan looked suspiciously rigid and alert in her supposed slumber, even from the far edge of the campsite, where she holed up.

Lyna made a small noise of complaint and shot Alistair what Zevran thought to be a very persuasive expression. “Can I at least walk?” she asked him. Her voice was much sweeter than its prior timbre. “No need to cause more of a disturbance than I already have.”

Alistair’s first reaction was to gaze at her adoringly, but then the love-sickness faltered and he returned to her face with a narrowed, probing stare. There it is, Zevran thought. He’s finally catching on.

Lyna flashed him a grin as he set her on her feet. “We’ll talk about this… later,” he said.

She stood on her own well enough. Alistair didn’t let go as she fanned out her hair. Glints of auburn were teased out from the fire several yards away. He continued to eye her with suspicion, and Lyna sighed. They all began a slow walk to the tents.

“Maybe if you hadn’t forced blood down my throat,” she said to Alistair, who promptly looked stricken with shock, “You wouldn’t have to wait so long to go to bed.” There was an awkward emptiness among them, but then she grinned, every bit as wolfish as Leliana accused him of being. Alistair’s expression of surprise melted at the wink she threw at him afterwards. Zevran smiled to himself.

“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t have met me,” Alistair teased back. There remained a slight strain in his voice, so Mahariel reached up and tussled his hair. He proceeded to swat her away. “And Maker knows, that is a fate much worse than anything I can imagine.”

Gag. Zevran made a mental note to help the ex-templar with his lines. Just as he was about to abandon them to their ill-timed, puppy love, Leliana had flitted to them, as graceful as an Orlesian, summer breeze.  Her lips were roses in the darkness. Lovely.

“Next time,” she said, raking them over with her gaze. Zevran came last, and there was a very obvious tautening of the upper planes of her face. “I’m going with Lyna. You enable her too much.”

Only her temper was more lovely than her mouth. “Leliana, this is Lyna.” He gestured to her without looking. “It seems as if you two haven’t met. In case you were wondering, she’s the boss.”

Leliana harrumphed. “Which makes you…?”

“I’m so glad you asked, gorgeous. I—“

“Nevermind.”  

[lifeisbooksandcats]

Just lil autistic things from when I was a child.

As an autistic adult (29 years old) (not professionally diagnosed, but something I’ve thought about myself for the past 12 years and just recently something I’ve spent far too much of my free time researching and I honestly do think that I am), I look back at my childhood with the thought of “WHY didn’t ANY adult in my life see any of this as ‘not normal’ and try to HELP me??”

- I was very advanced in some areas, mostly reading and writing; I was reading independently by the age of about 2 and a half/3. From the time I started kindergarten, I was always reading “far above grade level”. The first Harry Potter book came out when I was in second grade and I was just one of 3 kids between the two second grade classes at my school who had a high enough reading level for that to be independent reading. For writing, I have always always always, my entire life, been able to express my thoughts better on paper than verbally. I’ve always enjoyed writing. I would write essays upon essays about things I liked for no other reason than I just wanted to. Being alone with a book or something to write with was my happy place.

- My first real total and complete meltdown (that I can remember at least) (which my mom says was the start of my ‘very real anxiety problem’ (which she apparently noticed but literally never did anything to help me??? But that’s for another post another time.)) was when I was about 5(ish). We lived with my grandparents at the time, and my grandparents and I went to Florida to visit my aunt and uncle. My sister and mom stayed home. While we were gone, there was a fire that destroyed my grandparents’ house. My mom and sister and our dogs got out, but our cats died in the fire. So we get home from vacation, our house is gone, our cats are gone, we have to stay with a neighbor (who smoked and her house always smelled like cigarettes and I just remember the smell making me so sick to my stomach constantly) while the house is being fixed/rebuilt, our dogs are boarded at the vets office because we can’t have them in the neighbor’s apartment...we left for vacation and everything was normal, we get back and EVERYTHING is different, so obviously I’m already on edge.. we went to go visit our dogs and take them on a walk, and I kept turning around to make sure our car was still there..we went around a corner, so the next time I turned around I couldn’t see our car anymore and I had a full on MELTDOWN. I threw myself to the ground, I cried hysterically, and my family just chuckled and said I was dramatic and overreacting and the car was just around the corner. Did I overreact? I mean absolutely. Looking back, I can see how my reaction to not being able to see the car anymore was...a lot. Given the exact same circumstances, would a neurotypical child have reacted the exact same way? I don’t know. I don’t think so.

- I HATED the feel of paper. Oh my god I hated it. Even now as an adult, if I’ve had an incredibly long day or if I’m tired, I still sometimes can’t bring myself to touch it. I used to wear long sleeves constantly (or keep a sweatshirt nearby if I had short sleeves on) so I could pull my sleeves over my hand when I had to write so I wouldn’t feel the paper. I don’t know how to explain it, but the feel of paper would make my skin crawl. Even the tiniest bit of my skin touching it would send a chill down my back and I felt like I could “hear” the way it felt and the “sound” hurt my ears. In high school, I HATED going to history or science class not because I didn’t like the subject (I didn’t enjoy history, but I loved my science classes), but because the thought of having to touch the pages in the textbook made me nauseous.

- While *most* of the time I could handle listening to the car radio, there were times especially if I had had a long day, or was stressed or overwhelmed that I literally could NOT listen to the radio because I didn’t know what order the songs were going to play in. We spent a lot of time in the car listening to the same 3 cassette tapes again and again. I had a blue SanDisk MP3 player that idk if it was defective or what, but the songs ALWAYS played in the same order. If you hit shuffle, the first song to play would be a random one, but it would always play the same song after that one. I found comfort in knowing if X is playing, I know Y is next and Z is after that.

- My sister and I shared a bedroom (we had bunk beds) and she had a fan the clipped onto the rungs of the ladder of the bunk bed and the sound of the fan...the vibration of it against the wooden ladder... it HURT my ears. There would be nights I would cry and cry because I couldn’t sleep because my ears were hurting so bad because of the fan. Any time I would turn it off, my mom would get so mad at me. I remember her telling me “your sister needs the fan in order to sleep!” I would respond that I couldn’t sleep because of the sound, and she would tell me to grow up and get over it because I was the older one. And my sister would snore just a little bit, not super loudly, but loud enough that it distracted me from falling asleep. I would be so tired and frustrated, all I wanted was for her to “stop breathing so loudly”..

- I was annoying/bossy about playing games. I needed to know the rules and needed everyone to follow the rules. And if someone broke the rules, I remember sternly telling my friends “that’s NOT how you play”, if they broke the rules again, I didn’t want to play that game with them anymore. Way too often, I would tell my friends they were playing wrong. Even games we would make up, I had to know the rules and everyone HAD TO play CORRECTLY.

- I’ve always kept some sort of music player with me at basically all times - from a cassette player, to a CD player, to an MP3 player, to an iPod, to an iPod video, to my phone... and when the world was too loud (ESPECIALLY on the school bus or in the cafeteria) I could just put headphones in and listen to music and escape from the world being too much.

- My parents got my ears pierced when I was a baby; even as a toddler I remember HATING them being pierced. I hated the way they felt, I hated how they felt too tight on my ears, I hated the weight of them, even just little studs, I could FEEL them, I was constantly aware of them and I didn’t like it.. and I couldn’t take them out. I remember being told “but you’re a GIRL and the earrings are PRETTY!” I remember the relief I felt when I learned that if you played a sport at school you weren’t allowed to have earrings in. I remember signing up for soccer in third grade JUST BECAUSE I would get to take my earrings out, and just the joy/relief I felt not having to wear them. And I haven’t worn them again since third grade.

- I used to organize my and my sister’s CDs and cassettes obsessively. Alphabetical order by artist or band name, and in order by the year they came out. At least once a week I would have to check to make sure everything was still in order. I did the same with my books on my bookshelf. They had to be organized. And they had to be organized CORRECTLY.

- I HATED the feeling of my toes touching each other. Oh my god I hated it so much. Any time I had shoes on, I HAD TO wear toe socks so they wouldn’t be directly touching. It made me feel physically ill, anxious, uncomfortable. I cannot even put into words how much I absolutely hate hate HATED the feeling of my toes touching each other. Which I know is the weirdest thing to have that kind of a reaction to, but..possibly a sign that something was up in my lil childhood neurodivergent af brain.