#anyway I am not quite as pissed as before since they did fix my biggest issue but. i don’t like the whole thing with DreamUp still.

[holydramon]

@equaltaleau

Ok so this was initially supposed to be a short summary of the situation, but it kinda got out of hand. It still kinda is meant to be a summary, and doesn’t include every detail, but it is fairly long so apologies for that!

anyway so dA announced they’d be adding a way to label your art as not for use for ai generator training (to be clear this generally tells ai trainers they can’t use it - like it applies to random 3rd party training programs). this at a surface level is very good! however the issue is that they initially released it where you had to opt out of your work being used for ai training rather than opt in. this not only is bad due to the fact that initially you could only opt out one piece at a time, but also because it automatically labeled the pieces of people who couldn’t opt out (such as those that lost access to their account or deceased users) as fair game. basically consent to your art being used as ai training was assumed, rather than you having to give it.

as of now they have changed it so people’s art on the site is automatically not allowed for ai art training, with people having to opt in to it if they’re fine with it. but it only happened after hours of community backlash and community q&a sessions where artists’ concerns were mostly talked over and ignored.

so people are still mad at how the whole thing was initially handled. people are also still mad about the other thing dA announced in this same update, which is their own ai generated software called DreamUp. DreamUp uses LAION as a data set which is open source, but… the thing is LAION is trained on general images from the internet. Including pictures from dA from before the opt out feature was introduced.

Overall it just feels very tone deaf for them to pride themselves on being there for the artists and offering artist protection from their art being used for AI training without their consent, while simultaneously launching their own paid AI image generator that was trained off some of their users without their consent, even if they weren’t the ones who trained it.

Their main response to the idea of making an actual ethical AI generator using only images artists consent to being used was that such a thing would take time and money, and by the time it launched it may be irrelevant. Along with arguing that AI generation is here and inevitable, so you can’t complain about how dA handles it because you can’t stop other AI generators from using your art for training anyway and dA is doing better than them artist consent wise.

[Disclaimer that they may have changed their tune on some of these issues, but this is the general phrasing and sentiments I saw expressed by DeviantArt throughout the day. This is based off the Twitter space with RJ Palmer (which they deleted the original tweet of) along with what I saw from their livestream and tweets from nicedayJules who works at DeviantArt. I don’t fully know what’s going on internally at dA and I’ve seen some people say the official discord expresses things differently, but I’m not in it so not fully sure. So keep in mind there might be some inaccuracies or me misunderstanding things potentially!]

tl;dr is just that dA made artists really mad by integrating some new features regarding AI art that automatically assumed users would be alright with their art being used for AI training

I’m honestly so fucking pissed about the deviantart thing, it’s the only other site I actively use art wise and also one that I have had some luck selling things on. i guess I’ll still use the site and just do the mass art opt out but jfc.

[strangelysamantha]

hey, i have a jj maybank request! fem!reader, possible angst!

so basically, y/n is a pogue and gets along with the other pogues (john b, pope, sarah, kiara & cleo) except for jj. y/n is always bright, a total sweetheart and bubbly and jj…hates it.

john b recently opens up a surf board shop on that stranded island that they’re on?? and he leaves y/n and jj alone to polish some boards hoping that they’d get along. jj complains about every little thing y/n does and starts calling her names. she gets really upset and storms out the shop to clear her head. she goes by the water for a swim but a dangerous tide picks her up and jj notices and saves her?? hopefully this makes sense!

the deep end ☆

jj maybank x fem!reader.

warnings: mentions of drowning, jj being an asshole, swearing.

words: 1,674.

summary: jj somehow finds everything you do annoying to the point he criticizes everything you do. john b thinks of a plan that will ensure his two friends will befriend each other. it was working at first, until it wasn’t.

request? yes!

a/n: y’all have such good ideas what the?! thank you for the request! if you enjoyed please like and comment. this is angst with fluff at the end. <3 BTW i am from missouri and have never surfed so i hope i got the polishing of the surfboards correct. :)

my masterlist

——————————————————————————

john b always had a plan, well usually he did. if two of his friends were fighting, he would always find a way to get them to get along. he knew that stranding kiara and sarah on a boat together in the middle of nowhere would force them to fix their friendship. so, with that knowledge, he knew that he could do the same thing with jj and you.

you were always nice to jj, he just seemed to get annoyed with you all the time. you didn’t know what you had done, if you had even done something. he just always felt the need to critique you. it became harder and harder everyday to ignore him.

since washing up on the abandoned island, john b was ecstatic for his brand new start. unsurprisingly to anyone, his first idea for creating a new civilization would be a surf shack. he started building it right away. you would occasionally help, but he was determined to do it on his own so he would always send you away.

“okay! john b what would you like my help with? i can do anything you need. just let me know.” you smile brightly at john b, while he stared at you. “listen, i love you. but, i don’t need your help at the moment. you should talk to everyone else.” you frown at his words, “fine. but you better get me the minute you need assistance.” he nodded. “will do.” and with that, you left joining the others.

jj was talking to cleo before silencing upon your arrival. “hey everyone!” you smile at the group in front of you. “hey! how’s john b?” kiara asked. “i think he is good, he’s actually pretty much done.” you play with the bracelet on your wrist. kiara nods, “that’s great.” pope smiles, “statistically speaking, we can’t ensure that his shack will be entirely safe as he built it all on his own.” you stare at pope. “true… we’ll let’s hope it doesn’t collapse on him.” pope smiled at you, glad you listened to his random fact.

jj groaned. “awe, how sweet pope!! you found a girl who wasn’t disgusted by your weird and useless knowledge.” you gasp in shock, “jj! shut up you are so rude.” jj laughs, “it’s just a joke, why do you always have to be so offended?” you glare at jj. “jj it’s not funny, you’re just a dick.” pope sighs. “it’s okay, don’t worry.” you frown in popes direction. you quietly pull away from the group. you walk to an area of sand, plopping yourself down. that’s when john b approached you.

“hey, remember when i told you i would come get you when i needed help?” john b smiled at you. “yes! do you need my help?” you tilt your head to the side, waiting. he nods. “i need you to wax up some of the boards i made.” you nod. “okay! sure.” he walked you to his shack, helping you set up. you began waxing the board, paying attention to the direction and the amount of wax you were applying. john b waits a minute watching you, before he decides to leave.

after a minute, you see jj approaching the shack with john b who held a smug smile on his lips. you shake your head, confused. “friends.” he looked between you and jj. jj held an unamused look on his face. “as my close friends, you will wax these boards for me. you can’t stop until you guys fix whatever feud is going on between the two of you.” john b stands his ground. jj scoffs, “we don’t have a feud.” you nod your head in agreement. “jj is right, his hatred is definitely one sided... it is not a feud.” you laugh softly seeing jj send a glare your way. “yeah okay. whatever guys. just fix it, and if you even try and leave, i’ll send cleo after both of you.” your eyebrows lift in shock. you mutter a quick okay, returning your attention to the board.

jj stares at you, watching you apply the wax. he couldn’t help but get upset. everything you did just made him annoyed. he grabbed the wax, working on the board right by yours. silence falls over the two of you. it’s not awkward or weird, it actually feels quite normal. until jj interrupted it so he could judge you.

“youre doing it wrong. i mean come on.” you stare at jj, “jj please just focus on your own board.” you shake your head, continuing to polish the surfboard. he glares at you. “whatever. just keep doing what you are doing, and then john b or i will fix it after you.” his attention turned back to his board. you rolled your eyes. “i will, thank you.” he breathes in, inhaling the waxy scent. “you are so annoying you know that?” you ignore jj’s words, focusing on the board. he continues, “i mean everything you do. everything you say, it pisses me off.” you nod slightly. “you done?”

“no, actually i’m not.” you bite your lip, fixating on the wax that is spreading along the smooth surface. jj stops waxing the surfboard. you look up to see he is already staring at you. “you know, you act like you are better than us, i mean why do you hang out with us anyway?” jj waits but continues when he realizes you won’t reply. “you are fake, you are so upbeat and bubbly that it’s annoying. you are a double sided two faced bitch who says anything to get in good graces.” you inhale, looking up at him.

“listen jj. we are stranded on this fucking island. TOGETHER. so either drop it and move on, or just shut the fuck up and stay away from me.” you place your hands on your hips, breathing slightly staggered from anger. “everyone speaks so highly of you saying how great you are; but the only jj i’ve met is a total douche. if you hate me so much then just stay the fuck away from me. if you continue you’ll just be wasting your breath and energy anyway.” jj holds back a laugh at your sudden outburst.

“you really think if i had the choice, i would want to be here? especially with you?” jj asked, you already knowing the answer. you stay silent. “exactly. no one can deal with you for that long anyway.” you roll your eyes.

“whatever jj. you win.” you toss the wax to the side, frowning. you don’t turn back to him, you just ignore him. you start to walk towards the beaches seashore. it was getting slightly hot, so you decided to take a dip into the water.

you were salvaging the few moments of freedom you had, before you got john b’s and cleo’s wrath from leaving the scene before mending the friendship with jj. it was practically impossible. what did jj have against you? you tip toed into the water, getting deeper and deeper. you floated at the top of the water; the coolness feeling great on top of your hot skin.

jj truly had the biggest nerve, your mind was overwhelmingly clogged. you felt seaweed scratch against the bottom of your foot, this caused you to jump, your adrenaline levels rising since you thought it was a fish. you try to remain afloat, but the high tide caused the waves to crash right over you repeatedly, being faster and higher than ever. you went above water trying to shout for help, but your mouth was filled, causing no sound to come out. you thrash against the water, kicking to stay afloat. your throat was burning, your legs tired from kicking, and your lungs filled with liquid.

a pair of hands wrap around your stomach, dragging you out the water. you were placed on the warm sand. “shit.” jj stared at you. your head felt light. jj’s hand began pumping your chest, curses falling from his mouth. “come on, just breathe. please.” you cough, the salt water exiting your lungs, and dropping onto your neck. you gasp for air, opening your eyes to be met with jj’s face. you breathe heavily for a minute.

“jj… thank you.” you sit up, pulling him into a tight hug. your hands wrap around his neck, one of them grabbing his hair. his arms held tightly around your waist. his chest was heaving heavily, shaking slightly. “i hate to be so cliché j, but you genuinely saved my life.” he frowns at you. “i almost lost you.”

jj’s confession confused you. “what?” you say softly, your hand combed through his hair. “look. the reason i’m so mean to you, is because i knew that if i was nice to you, my already intense feelings for you would only amplify.” you frown at him. “you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” jj nodded. you went to talk, but your friends interrupted the moment.

john b rushed to your side, kiara and pope swiftly behind him. “what happened!! we were watching from over there.” john b pointed in a direction farther away. “one minute you were swimming… the next you we’re gone!?” you wipe your neck, trying to dry it off. “jj saved my life. i almost drowned.” you frown, the group in front of you nodded. “im so glad you are okay.” kiara bent down pulling you into a hug. “i’m glad you are safe now too.” pope joined in on the hug; as well as everyone else.

sarah, kiara, and cleo bend down, reaching for your hands. they help you up, dragging you to your feet. they walk you away from the crowd, bombarding you with questions. “so when you were drowning what did it feel like??” you turn around watching jj, you smile slightly before turning to them. “oh get ready for the amount of details i’m going to give you guys.”

possibly a part two…??? not sure yet :) <3 also!! i’m proofreading this tomorrow since i’m not entirely sure if it has errors or not! ily!!

[animeyanderelover]

Omg it's been so long since I've gotten here in time when requests are open but here I am anyway I hope your doing ok and things went well with your visit with friends &Grandparents anyways I feel weird asking it but after reading your intepretation you caught my intrigue I'd like to request yandere Ging hc of him with a s/o who always tries to move b/c he annoys her but he keeps coming back !!! Feel free to make it soft 😊

It's been a while indeed since I've seen you so I'm happy you made it. Sorry that it took so long, but school enables me to only write one post per day😞. Buuut...I have only one week left before holidays and the last week we won't do much anything so I hope that by tomorrow I'll be able to write more again!

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, stalking, Ging annoying the s/o, meltdown of the s/o

Annoying

🍎I feel you, darling. It has to be exhausting to never know when exactly this man comes back or not, the times he just pops up in front of your house or has already somehow broken in and acting like he is at home. Ging simply can't help making bad impressions on his darling due to his constant absence and the indifference he seems to possess whenever they're pissed and want to scold him for his behavior. As someone who would like avoiding such arguments, he either disappears yet again or at least tries to calm you down in a way that doesn't help in most cases.

🍎You think moving away will work, hmm? Sorry to tell you, but it won't. Despite the impression that Ging doesn't look like he cares much and is a rather messy person, he is a respected Hunter. Connections, the possibilities he has with the status of being a Hunter and his very own skills are nothing to be forgotten and so he will have the new location of his darling found out the moment he finds out that they've moved. It's not like he pushes you into a corner for it the next time he just appears in front of the darling's door, ignoring their flabbergasted impression and going inside.

🍎The Hunter has already figured out from the very first incident why exactly you wanted to move, you were happy in your old home with the only thing annoying you being him. Ging is aware of his behavior and that it often has you feel like you want to rip your hair out yet he never really considered it too deeply. That is the kind of guy Ging is and it makes him a horrible person in more than just one pair of eyes. It just feels like he is not taking his darling seriously and ridicules them and that hurts, not to mention that he is so often away.

🍎So maybe now is the time to start recalling his actions and that he's made you go livid to the point where you do not want to be with him anymore. It becomes more and more visible every time you move away, slam the door shut as soon as he knocks on it or just refuses to open it at all. Something he would call "overreacting" at first seems to only turn more and more turbulent until the very first time his darling has a complete meltdown in front of him whilst he was telling them to chill out. Hysterical screaming and yelling whilst starting to burst out in tears before pushing him with violence out, slamming the door shut behind him.

🍎That was the first time Ging shut up when witnessing all of this, freezing and not knowing what to do. Even after he has been kicked down he doesn't know how to act, only the cries inside the house accompanying his thoughts for a while until you seem to calm down a bit. Overwhelmed would be the word to use for him, the feeling of helplessness and confusion, the feeling of having no idea what exactly to do now. It is the very first time his darling has given him such a emotional reaction, a highly negative one. The turning point where Ging has to ask himself if things can really stay the way they are or if he has to do something.

🍎Obviously he acts like a horrible person, but maybe he just happened to hit the wrong nerve after pocking for so long at you, maybe you just had enough. And as much as he hates troubles like those, even he is not too dumb or lazy to think that he can just act like he always did. Not this time, you clearly despise him by now. And that is not the kind of relationship he wishes to have when with the s/o. But the biggest problem for him now is what he is even suppose to do. He's no expert and will never be. How does someone apologize to their loved one without ruining things even more?

🍎The sudden disappearance from this man is something you're used to and wish for and that is what happens after. But not exactly for the reason you think. Ging believes that what you need now most is time to calm down, visiting you right after your outburst is not a wise option. Additionally he himself needs time to think now on what he should do, how he can make things right again. Well, as right as possible at least. It's written all over his face that something is bothering him and some people actually speak to him because of it. And Ging...well, after some time he tells them in vague details what is on his mind.

🍎Such talks are what turns out to be a big help because some people are surprisingly helpful. Especially all those married people who somewhat sympathize with the Hunter tell him in return their stories and what they did to make up with their partners and lovers. Lots of different advices and stories and yet Ging finds himself still having troubles. He's never done anything like this before so he is more nervous than he would like to admit after he has been away for a bit, tracking down the new home of yours again. Something really has to change.

🍎Blocking the door with his foot as you try to slam it shut right in front of his nose again is within his expectations as well as the yelling and he endures it with the same angering calmness as he always does. It's all the same in his darling's opinion. Until the very moment where he actually pulls out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back, handing them in a somewhat shy manner over. The man is highly embarrassed about it, not able to look his darling straight into their confused face as he stutters out an apology he has practiced beforehand. The practice was useless though, in front of the s/o this is a completely different thing.

🍎Instant forgiveness is not what you give him nor does he expect this. He did go too far about this time and he knows that he should stay to fix this. And he does. Somewhere else of course but it is the very first time he stays for a really long time since the grudge you have against him is not easy. During this time he comes to realize something uite importantt himself, how much of your life he actually missed whilst being constantly away. There are new hobbies and new friends you didn't know you had before and some of those friends are people he doesn't like. Because they're too close and you ignore him for them.

🍎It's rather silly since they're the only ones who kept you company whilst he was always away and he deserves this, but karma is a bitter bitch as he experiences himself. The relationship you two once had is in your eyes probably no more, increasing the danger of you falling in love with someone else, someone who will actually stay with you. Maybe that is why Ging turns unusually petty, following his darling around and biting his tongue when he catches them with one of those people he has officially recognized as love rivals. What a nasty feeling jealousy is and how frustrating your grin is when you caught him jealous for the very first time in a long while. Seems like the roles have reversed, haven't they?

🍎Using his connections is an option, but by now Ging is far too much provoked to do this himself. Not like he was planning before to use it, another drama with you is the last thing on his list he wants. His darling is letting him dance around here for quite a bit to the point where he accuses them mentally for being a sadist since he is pushed to do so many things he never did before and for that feels extremely awkward. Yet he goes through everything with embarrassment burning his skin, the desire to want the relationship far greater.

🍎The s/o comes to realize that he is serious as well, though doubting it at first. But the constant small gifts and the fact that he apologizes whenever he sees themplus tehe valuable fact that he stays around for a very long time convince them after some time. But forgiving him sweetly right after isn't what you would want after all the emotional roller coaster. You'll get back at him for everything before you shall grant him the relationship back. It takes a very long time and by the end of it Ging has probably the most frustrating months of his entire life behind him so it's safe to assume that now he knows how you must feel. Believe me, he has learned his lesson of a lifetime to treat his darling better from now on.

[storydays]

Legend of Korra X Male Reader

Hey guys! I’m loving all the likes you’re giving. I want to hear more of your questions and comments. Also I would really appreciate it if you would tag me and give me credit when you reblog my work. Thanks

(All credit for Legend of Korra goes to Nickelodeon and it’s creators ❤️)

Season 1, ep 5, p2

Kazan and Meelo yawned sleepily, full from dinner. "That was really good, (Y/N)." Pema complimented, rubbing her belly happily. "Glad you liked it Auntie." You then turned to your Aunt Rene who was sulking in the corner with a smug grin. "So, Auntie, thoughts?" you teased, making her start. "Listen little boy! Don't you dare give me attitude just because you're a better cook than me!" Everyone laughed at the banter between you two. "It's late, and the children are sleepy, why don't you guys sleep here for the night? Nagisa can sleep with Jinora and Ikki, and Kazan can bunk with Meelo." Pema suggested. 

"Yay! Sleepover!" cheered Ikki and Nagisa much to Jinora's annoyance. "Here, I'll help but the boys to sleep, Uncle."He smiled appreciatively at you, grabbing Meelo while you carried Kazan. "You did good tonight, nephew." Tenzin said, leading the way to the boys' room. "You heard from the radio?" you tilted your head, adjusting your grip on the young firebender. "No, I saw from the corner. You really are your parent's son."

You stared at his back in shock before smiling. "Heh, thanks Uncle."

*That night*

You inhaled the fresh air as you and Nevermore walked to the arena to get ready. But stop seeing Mako and Korra each facing different ways, and leaned against a pole, out of their sight line. "What kind of game are you playing?" asked the Firebender. "Um, pro-bending? We have a quarter final match." Korra stated like it was the most obvious thing. "No, I mean with Bolin. You got him all in a tizzy, and I know you're only using him to get back at me." Mako accused. 'Ooh bad move, Mako.'

"I am not. We're just having fun. What do you care, anyway?" Korra defended. "I'm looking out for my little brother. I don't want to see his heart get broken." 'That is such bull.' you laughed silently. Korra knew it was too, "Wait a second. You're not worried about him; you're jealous," Korra was smirking and you were too. "You do have feelings for me." Mako didn't miss a beat. "What? Jealous? Don't be ridiculous." 

"Admit it, you like me." Korra didn't realize she was playing with fire, quite literally. "No, I'm with Asami." "Yeah, but when you're with her, you're thinking about me, aren't you?" The Avatar sounded so smug right now, and you were silently rooting for her. "Get over yourself." Mako snapped. "I'm just being honest!" "You're crazy!" Mako denied. "You're a liar!" cried Korra.

That was when you decided to step in. You splashed the two with water you kept in your pocket, and sent your teammates a raised eye brow. "If you two hot heads are done, we do have a match to go to." You then walked away, your pony tail swinging behind you. You stopped the two from entering the room and to keep Bolin from getting him involved. 

"Listen you two, don't bring this energy around Bolin. And while you are out on that ring, keep your personal feelings out of it. We've come too far for you two to mess it up. Am I clear?" The younger teens looked at each other and sighed, when Nevermore snapped her jaws for good measure. "Yes, sir." "Good, I'll be here when the match is over." You walked in and over to the railing, waiting for the match to start. 

*15 minutes later*

"Eight teams have been eliminated, and eight advance into the quarter finals, which get underway tonight. The rookies are about to take on the former and longest running champs--the Boar-Q-Pines. Youth clashes with experience in a battle for the ages or rather of the ages. Korra dodges and--ooh slams right into her teammate! Down goes Mako, and Bolin and Korra." You face palm and growled as the second announcer said, "Round One goes to the Boar-Q-Pines." 

Your (e/c) eyes narrow, noting Mako was saying something to Korra in a very aggressive way. Poor Bolin looked so confused. The waterbender part of you wanted to switch out with Korra, but the airbender part of you, reminded your that this was how Korra and Mako were going to make up. Nevermore nuzzled your cheek making you chuckle and rub her head. "Thanks, girl."

"The Ferrets looking to mount some offense here in round 2. Bolin lets fly a flurry of attacks. He's a one man bending battalion." "Yes! Way to go, Bolin!" You cheered for the Earthbender. "The Ferrets having a tough time finding their rhythm tonight. But thanks to Bolin, they narrowly notch round two." 

Round 3 started and at this point the crowd noticed their was something wrong as well. "Not sure, what's eatin' them, but this is not the same team that took out the Rabbaroos." You winced in sympathy as the Avatar took Earth disk to the stomach. "Round 3 is a tie. We go to a tie breaker to decide the match." A referee tossed a blue and red coin into the air, and caught it, covering it up. 

He moved his hand to reveal the red side. "The Fire Ferrets win the coin toss. Which element do you choose?" Immediately the three tried to decide who would go to fight, until Bolin stepped up with the older Earthbender. "Looks like the Earthbenders will collide in the tie breaker face off. Bolin goes in for the grapple, Chang reverses." You grit your teeth as Bolin was flung into the air but cheered when he fired from mid air. 

"Bolin strikes from mid air, knocking Chang to the edge of the circle, and another strike from Bolin, knocking Chang into the drink!" "The Future Industries Fire Ferrets win their quarter final match!" You, Mako, and Korra sighed in relief as the announce continued talking. "Ooh, close one folks, youth trumps experience tonight." 

You met the trio at the edge and grinned at Bolin. "Good job, Bo! You were awesome out there!" You watched as Korra and Mako went their separate ways. You sighed, and walked over to Mako and whispered in his ear, "You better get your act right, Mako. You maybe my best friend, but I won't hesitate to kick your ass." He looked at you with wide eyes, knowing you were dead serious. "Hey, (Y/N), come with me! I need your help!" Bolin dragged you out the room, making you laugh. 

*Time skip*

You and Bolin walked up to where Korra could be hiding and you stopped seeing Korra and Mako kissing. 'Are they kidding me?!' "Wait, Bo, don't--" 

You were too late, as he stopped seeing the scene in front of you. You hid half your face in your hand, Nevermore trying to hide her head in your hair. It was silent until Bolin started crying and ran away. "Wait, Bolin, this isn't what you think!" He turned to Korra with a glare on his face. "Great! Look what you did." "You're blaming me?" demanded Korra. 

"You kissed me!" "You kissed me back!" Both gasped being splashed with freezing cold water, and turned to you. Nevermore's teeth were drawn back into a snarl, and you had a dangerous look on your face. "It doesn't matter. You are both at fault! Now what matters is how the hell you are going to fix it." You and Nevermore growled as Mako groaned and ran after his brother. You turned to the city view and didn't even look at the Water Tribe girl.

"Korra, I know you've been isolated all your life, and you probably thought you would get your happily ever after with Mako. But there's so many fish in the sea for you to explore with. Don't settle for the small fry." "Well played, Korra." she said, hugging herself. "Live and learn, Korra." you sighed, "Live and learn."

*The next morning.*

You followed Mako into the restaurant.  "Morning, Narook. Is my brother here?" The man behind the counter gestured behind you guys, and Mako waved in thanks. "Thanks." He walked over to Bolin and shook his shoulder. "Come on, wake up. I'm taking you home, bro." That cause Bolin to sniff and look up sadly. 

"Don't call me that. You're not my brother!" He drunkenly slapped Mako's hands away from him. "You're a brother-betrayer." He sobbed into his arms. "The only ones I can trust: are Pabu and (Y/N)! They love me!" "You're a mess, and we've got the biggest of our lives tonight. Let's go." Mako tried grabbing Bolin who screamed at him. "No! I'm not going anywhere with you traitor!" You sighed, pushing Mako and grinning at Bolin. 

"Come on, Bo. I need my favorite Earthbender to fight with me tonight!" He finally got up with his arm slung over your shoulder. "Only you Bolin, can drunk off Water Tribe Noodles." You laugh gently. "I told you dating a teammate was a bad idea." Mako sighed. "You're a bad idea!" You laugh at their antics, even if you were pissed at Mako. 

*That night* 

You finished braiding your hair so it hung down your back, and out of your face, as Korra walked into the room. She looked at Bolin slouching on a bench,and noticed you over at the mirror. You were lost in thought, but it was clear something was bothering you. You suddenly snapped out of it and stood up, putting your helmet on. "Let's go guys. And leave your personal feelings here." 

"You can't find a team more evenly matched. In age, size, and strength than the Fire Ferrets and the Buzzard Wasps. Believe me, I looked." he joked. "This should be a pulse-pounding semi-final, folks." The bell rang and the Buzzards fought first. "The Buzzard-Wasps open with a flawlessly executed combo. 2 of the Ferrets take an early visit to Zone 2, and Mako's knocked all the way back into Zone 3! The Ferrets have been struggling to stay alive since the opening bell. It seems Bolin and Mako are out of sync tonight. (Y/N) taking the brunt of the impact from the front lines." 

The crowd groaned with Bolin as he was hit in the gut, hard. "Ooh, that has got to sting." You heard retching and groaned, knowing it was Bolin. "And Bolin looses his noodles, literally." All the players seem to have froze with that disgusting scene. "Which reminds me, this match is brought to you by our sponsor, Flamey-O-Instant Noodles. 'Noodlest- Noodles in the United Republic.' " Soon Bolin was knocked back into Zone 3 with Mako, leaving you to get defend from Zone 1. 

You were suddenly knocked into Zone 3 by an Earth disk, while avoiding a flame burst. "The Buzzard Wasps fly deeper into Ferret Territory. And Mako plunges into the pool. Can the Fire Ferrets hold on?" You and Bolin looked at each other and continued to fight with all you got. "The Ferrets are backed to the edge now, and are saved by the bell! They had better pull themselves together, folks, for round two. Otherwise they can kiss their finals goodbye. "

"Round 2!"  You used water in a arch to knock two of the Buzzards back into Zone 2. "Oh, what a strong start from (Y/N)!" Mako groaned being knocked into Zone 2, and sent fire towards them, hitting Bolin in the process. He cried out, and turned onto his back to glare at Mako. "Hey, watch it!" He gasped being knocked into the water, from his distraction. "The Wasps take advantage of Mako's unforced error, and move forward." 

You and Mako spun your elements together and knocked the opposing  Water and Earth benders out and into the drink giving the round to you guys. Round 3 came and you looked between the boys. "Look, we've been working for a long time for this. Get your heads in the game guys. Please." You begged slightly; they knew what this tournament meant to you. "Let's get this over with." Mako sighed.

When the match started, Mako was already in the drink, and Bolin's shoulder was messed up,and then he was in the drink. "The Ferret's dream of making it to the finals rests on Councilman (Y/N)'s shoulders." You smirked to yourself, used your waterbending to get the team into a line of three, and knocked them down like dominoes. "It's the big kaboosh! What a knockout!" 

The crowd went wild and you could hear Mako and Bolin cheering for you.  "It didn't seem possible folks, but the Fire Ferrets are headed to the finals." You laughed, waving to the crowd, before walking away. You took your helmet off and groaned when Korra gave you a big hug. "Korra! Korra! I need my....lungs...to breathe." "Oh! Sorry!" she sheepishly let you go. "Sometimes, I forget about my own strength." You sent her a lopsided smile, "It's okay, Korra." Bolin and Mako walked up to you. 

"That was pretty much the coolest thing I've ever seen." "Thanks for not giving up on us; we never would've made this far without your level head. We owe you big time." You rolled your eyes, walking past them, taking your helmet off. The three looked at each other, uncertain. "(Y/N)--" "Look, I know things are confusing between the three of you, but this team means everything to me, and the last thing I need is for some petty love triangle is to mess it up." 

Your sudden attitude caught the other's off guard; you were usually so carefree and cool. You got ready to leave the room when your ex walked in, making a scene. "Ooh, ooh, you boys smell something in here?" Tahno pinched his nose before smirking. "Oh, wait I know what that is. Yeah, it's the scent of losers." "I hope we see you in the finals. Then we'll see who the real losers really are." Korra said back. 

"Yeah, I'm peeing my pants over here." Tahno said confidently before turning to you, with a very faint blush on his cheeks. "I'll win this match for you, (Y/N). Maybe we can go out to that Water Tribe restaurant you like so much." You turned to him with a bored look and said, "Gag me. We are not together anymore, Tahno, I just can't trust you." You brushed your bangs into your face and left without another word. 

You ran into Asami in the hallway. "Oh, hey Asami." she hugged you and took a step back, noting your mood. "Great job! What a comeback! I--Hey...what's the matter?" she asked, green eyes shining earnestly. "Nothing, why don't you go see you boyfriend." You began to walk away when she grabbed your arm. 

"Hey, you don't need to be strong around me, (Y/N), you've been there for me when I needed it. You can talk to me--" "No! I can't talk to anyone and especially not you because on of my main problems is I'm in love with you, and I just think you're wrong for Mako because he and Korra kissed and they belong together and I--" Asami cut you off by hugging you tightly, your arms tight around her waist. "(Y/N), I-I didn't know you felt that way." You took her hand in yours and kissed the top of it, locking eyes with her. 

"Asami..." you left it at that and walked away, leaving her to her thoughts. 

You ran to where you hid Neo, and hugged him with all your might, begging your tears not to fall, and while the polar bear dog didn't know what caused your pain, he simply nudged you with as much warmth as possible.  You took such good care of him, it hurt him to see you so upset.

You sniffed, and looked into Neo's blue eyes with a watery smile. 

"Let's go home, boy."

[siriusheadspace]

august - sirius black x muggle!reader

Warnings: I guess it's a bit angsty? But it's also cute, summer love fluff, so idk

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader

Summary: You meet a cute boy in your summer job. You share secrets and live a beautiful summer love, but will you still see each other once school starts again? Inspired by "august", by Taylor Swift.

A/N: Thank you so so so so much for liking my last fic, illicit affairs! I guess I'll have to create a master list here lol. This one's a bit less gloomy and there's *sequel potential*, so please tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! Also, should I open requests? Do you guys have any? lol. I'm taking too long in this A/N, so lemme shut up. Enjoy the fic!

Words: 3.5k ish

-

Salt air And the rust on your door I never needed anything more

You were chewing the pen cap while at an especially tedious English Literature class. A head full of luscious black hair poked through the door, and you jumped in your chair, thinking for a second it could be the person you missed the most. But, of course, it was just a girl asking the teacher to make a class announcement. You tuned out immediately and let the memories flood through your mind. It was just the beginning of summer and your first day at an ice cream parlor in the middle of London. It was a funny neighbourhood - you didn't know why, but it always had a couple of people wearing the weirdest outfits, like weird flowy capes and tunics. But that wasn't really important - you just wanted to make a little money of your own this summer, and the ice cream gig was supposed to be easy. You quickly found out it wasn't as easy as it should be, since the owner decided to leave you to be cashier and server from the start, leaving you alone on your first day after little training. You were stressed, trying to guess if the ice cream machine was supposed to be that noisy or if you already broke it after only a few customers, when someone got in. Sirius regretted everything about spending the summer with his family. He was fifteen going on sixteen and decided to spend most of his days roaming through London, looking for a way to have a halfway decent summer, sending letters to his friends every day. He was about to go spend the day at the Diagon Alley, but he figured he could actually try to see different stuff for the day. Muggle stuff. Perhaps get a couple of new posters for his bedroom? That would piss off his mother. He smiled at the thought. But it was too damn hot for the beginning of summer, and he definitely wore too much black for his comfort under the scolding, rare sunshine. His locks of dark hair were starting to get wet with sweat, and he decided to put his muggle money to good use when he went by an ice cream parlor. He was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen, her hair in a lazy, long braid, her skin tanned and glowing, and her brows frowned as if she was bothered to see him. And you'd never forget how pleasantly surprised you were to see the tall guy that just went inside the store. You'd never be able to forget the way that there was something else about him - he was gorgeous, his long strides revealing from far away how tall he was, his hair pulled back in a makeshift bun - but there was just more, an aura that made him magnetic; magic, you first though instinctively, but shook the thought. Charisma, perhaps. But you'd soon found out it was his own particular mix of both. The bell started ringing and pulled you away from your memories.

Whispers Of "Are you sure?" "Never have I ever before"

While you walked through the corridor, you felt the rush of excitement you'd always feel when you remembered you knew a secret, one so special no one would believe you, even if you told them. "You must know something about me, doll", he said, cuddling with you on your bed in the middle of the afternoon, your parents still away at work. You ended up quitting the job pretty quickly after your first day, but you were making good use of your free afternoons. "What, babe?", you said, and you felt his smirk against the top of your head, where his lips were, him breathing in your scent. You liked to use gauche pet names as much as he did. "That you're not the smartest, since it's very stupid for us to cuddle in the middle of a hot afternoon? Or that you're actually really smart, but just enjoy being around me anyway?", you joked. "How very funny of you. I am actually kind of smart, I swear", he said, jokingly, but you felt him tense up as he started talking again. "It's sort of a serious thing, actually", he said. "A… Sirius thing, you mean?", you joked again, but he brushed it off with a quick laugh. "You would know if you'd let me finish speaking", he said, and you waited. He got up and seemed nervous, not sure what to do with his hands. You never saw him like this. "Do you know how you always ask me how do I do a few things? Like, how did I fix the vase I broke the first time I came here so perfectly?" he asked, and you nodded. "You said you got another one", you squinted your eyes, trying to guess where he was going. "On the same day? Y/N, I want to be close to you, to be truthful to you. And I can't do that if you don't know about such a huge part of my life", he said. "I have… certain… habilities. And my family does, too. And my friends, as well. The school I go to… Everyone has these abilities", he completed, and pulled out a stick from his backpack. No, not a stick - not by the way he held it, with purpose. You looked for the right word in your head. A wand. "Can I trust you with the biggest secret humanity has?", he asked, and you nodded. "You can trust me with anything and everything", you said. And nothing was ever the same.

But I can see us Lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time

You missed him so much your entire body ached; the feeling of his callous fingertips against your cheeks, the pressure of lips on yours, how his tongue felt against yours, his laughter tickling your skin… You had to stop thinking about him. It was no good and absolutely useless. It was good while it lasted, but it was over. Still, walking home, you couldn't stop thinking about how it was once you were in on the secret, how he'd do magic in front of you, how he would tell you all about Hogwarts, about his friends… And you knew back then that there wasn't a place for you in that world.

'Cause it was never mine And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away Like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

You could remember the warm nights you spent together, once your parents decided to spend a weekend away, visiting friends or your grandparents, and how you had to pretend to be sleeping over a friend's house while you had Sirius over. You would meet at a pub, and he'd charm someone into selling you beers, so you would drink together, just enough to feel buzzed. Sirius loved teasing you. He would start by just brushing his knee against yours, but as the alcohol got to the both of you, he would get bolder, running his fingers up and down your thigh under your flimsy summer dress, whispering sweet nothings against your ear, kissing your neck. You felt so much joy, basking in his attention and his carresses. The walk to your house would always take longer than it should. He was the most sociable creature, making quick friends with everyone that grabbed his eye. He would help an old lady carry her groceries to her apartment, completely out of your way back home, while charming her; there was the time where he joined a deep conversation about bikes with a guy that had one, this huge black Harley Davidson, convincing the guy to let the two of you, clearly tipsy teenagers, to have a ride on it. It took Sirius five minutes to figure out the basics of riding that bike and convincing you to join him. "Don't you trust me, baby?", he pouted, and you gave him a quick peck - you couldn't resist his pouts and pleading. "Not with that bike, I don't", you said, watching him already seated at the bike as if it belonged to him. He looked the part, his muggle (the word always bothered you) clothes made him look like the hot, moody guitar player in a rock band, the wind flowing from his side making his hair fly in front of his face. "Then take a little risk", he chuckled, pulling you closer to him. "You can use it as an excuse to feel my abs", he said, and it was your turn to laugh. "Ok, I'm sold", you sighed dramatically, and sat behind him, your hands creeping under his shirt for a moment when you wrapped your arms around him. The speed was more intoxicating than the few beers you had, the wind whipping your exposed skin, the noise violent on your ears, the warmth that came from Sirius' back being the only thing that made you feel safe. Once you gave the bike back to its owner and were back on your foot, you would still take your time on the way there, Sirius listening to stories about your friends, the books you were reading, the movies you were watching - you promised to take him to the movies, shocked to hear that he never set foot on a movie theater. And sometimes, since you would take that long on your way home just to tease each other, he would push a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pull you in for a kiss, your back quickly meeting whatever wall was closer and spending a few minutes against the texture of the tiles while Sirius gave you long, slow kisses, trying to make the most of the night. Once you got home, you would barely have the focus necessary to find the keys and open the door, and Sirius oftenly used magic to make your life easier. "Alohomora", he said, opening the door soon after, and you chuckled. "You sound so hot when you speak fake latin", you said, and he laughed while he followed you inside, quicky going back to kissing you while you tried to guide him to your bedroom. On those nights, after he was fast asleep, his smug expression erased out of his face by sleep, you never thought about how it would be between the two of you once summer was over.

Your back Beneath the sun Wishing I could write my name on it

One week, you decided you would both spend a couple days in Brighton Beach, counting every penny that you had so you could afford two nights in the middle of the week in a cheap bungalow. Sirius had exchanged magical money for muggle money and it wasn't as hard as you thought it would be to get the amount necessary. "Well, my family sucks, but at least my allowance is halfway decent", he smirked, but the smile didn't get to his eyes. "It does help that muggle money is so devalued. Shouldn't you guys complain with your prime minister, or something?", he said, expecting you to go along in the joke as you usually would. But he touched on a subject that you felt it was taboo: he never talked about his family. You knew something was wrong - all the time you spent together was outside or in your house, and he never seemed too keen in having to go back to his parents place. "Is this the moment where you tell me more about your family?", you asked, and he sighed. "It didn't go unnoticed that you felt more comfortable to tell me about actual magic before taking me to meet your mom", you joked, but he knew you meant it. "Oh, Y/N… You could never meet my family. They'd never be able to appreciate you", he told you, and then went on to explain how there's a side of the wizarding world that despises muggles, that values purity of blood before anything else, and it killed you inside, a bit. That you were right in that gut feeling that you tried to ignore. He was too good for you. You didn't belong together. There was a whole part of his society that focused on that. And his family was totally on that side. But you avoided thinking about that in those two blissful nights away. You were close before, but that routine - waking up together, cooking breakfast for each other, seeing him getting letters from his friends delivered by owls that came inside the kitchen of the bungalow as if that was normal. He bought a polaroid in the beggining of summer and tried to adapt it to take magical pictures - according to them, they were supposed to move - but it didn't work. Still, you documented those days in normal polaroids, from candids of him drinking tea in the morning to pictures of you at the beach, and he sent one of you two together to his closest friends, and your heart ached at the thought of part of his world being even the least bit accepting of you. You'd trace random patterns on the skin on his back while he tried to tan, writing your name on him and hoping there would always be a part of him that belonged to you, that would be able to return to you once you were apart, like you did with your favorite toys when you were a kid. A childish desire to keep him with you. You loved your nights out, holding hands while going on rides that were probably unsafe and operated by other teenagers, convincing Sirius to try to win you prizes, and actually getting him a teddy bear - you were a better shot. And he would try to do magic discreetly when you asked him to cook or clean something, and you messed with him for cheating on those chores. It felt like you could absolutely live together forever, making that little bungalow home for those magical hours. You even held his wand, felt the texture of the wood against your fingertips, noticed how it was well used, the parts of it where you could see that his hands touched more oftenly, the worn wood reminding you how he was a part of something that you could only imagine for way longer than he was part of your life and your world. But he soon joked that you were "taking too long playing with his wrong wand", and you'd laugh and kiss him and forget your concerns.

Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinking I had you

You felt the nervousness as the summer approached its inescapable end. As Sirius went out to buy school supplies one afternoon, you couldn't escape the anxiety caused by the uncertainty surrounding your relationship. You just spent the most amazing few months of your life with this guy you absolutely Loved, with a capital L, and you weren't even sure you'd meet again after a few days. You didn't know his address and you couldn't send letters there anyway. You had no idea how to send a letter to Hogwarts. Once you met him at a park near wherever he would buy supplies for a magic school, with him excited to show you what he got and hear about your day, you were already unable to hide the change in your mood. "What's wrong, sweetheart? I was just talking about you with James and..." he said, and he noticed he chose the wrong words when you winced at him. "So you can't even introduce me to your friends that are supposed to be tolerant that you're dating a muggle?", you asked, trying to sound mean, but he could hear how much you were hurting under the façade of anger. "It's not like that, Y/N. There's too many people from Hogwarts there now, people that don't like me or my friends and despise, hum, people like you, and it would be dangerous for you if they knew they could hurt me by messing with you", he explained, but it didn't soothe the pain in your chest. "What is it gonna be like once you're not here, Sirius? Is there a way for us to even talk? I don't own a magic owl, and I don't think the postman is going to able to find Hogwarts", you said, spiteful. "Do you even want to continue this, us? Or are you going to be with people your friends and family can actually know about and meet, that can defend themselves instead of just being a source of weakness for you?", you asked, your voice trembling, all the thoughts you avoided for months taking space and energy, growing inside of you and blurting out. "Y/N..." Sirius started, but you were done for the day. You got up and went home.

But I can see us Lost in the memory August slipped away into a moment in time 'Cause it was never mine

You liked being with him too much to waste your last few days together, so you accepted his apologies for not taking you to meet his friends or more of his life, but you couldn't help but notice that he didn't have plans to do what he apologized for not doing. Still, you enjoyed your last few days, the picnics under the last few sunny days of the year, taking him to the movies to watch silly horror movies that Sirius fell in love with, making out with him under the soft movie lights that reflected beautifully on his gray eyes.

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets August sipped away Like a bottle of wine 'Cause you were never mine

The last night you had together made you nervous. Sirius had prepared himself to go straight from your house back to the station, hiding his luggage on your parents garage and climbing to your window. You drank wine you stole from your parents cabinet and talked in a low voice the entire night - you thought that was what you'd miss the most, just being near him and listening to his voice, to the varying inflections, to the fancy words thats would slip and denounce him as someone from a rich family, to his excitement at the perspective of being back with his friends, and to the low energy tone that followed once he said how much he would miss you. "Hey, I figured out how to keep in touch", he said, a coy smile creeping on his lips. "But I need to know at what time do you get home from school", he completed, and you quirked up a brow. He explained that his owl would bring you a letter from him and wait for you to answer with one of your own, since you didn't have another way of getting to him. You were happy that he found a solution, but it didn't go unnoticed, again, that it seemed like a simple solution that maybe he though about before, but wasn't sure he wanted to go through with you. Also, you'd always be at his mercy and will, having no way of contacting him besides when he wanted to hear from you. But at least there was a way, a chance…

Back when we were still changing for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope…

The next morning, he woke you up at dawn with a quick kiss and said goodbye, promising to contact you again. That was three weeks ago. I mean, you couldn't really blame him. He was beautiful, talented, smart, and everyone knew summer loves weren't forever. He was probably met by a swarm of beautiful witches that would do everything for him. It would be easy to forget about you, your normal, common life. But you felt resentment towards him. He could've just been honest, you thought. He shouldn't have given you hope. He should've been honest about your intentions. He shouldn't have made you act like a fool everytime your classes came to an end, always running home and looking for an owl in the sky, only to be greeted by the emptyness of your silent house. You were getting tired of feeling angry, though. It tarnished your beautiful memories of a perfect summer. You just had to say goodbye to your hopes of getting to see Sirius again, to hear his perfect laughter, always laughing with you and never at you, the ringing in your ear that would send a shiver through your back, or that you'd never feel the silky perfection of his hair tangled between your fingers again… You were trying to come to terms with that, distracted, once you got home. There was an owl on the front window, standing on the window sill. Your heart skipped a beat.

[fakeloveaskblog]

I think you. should ask Janus to "slither" over to your house! But also give him options! Like, "would you like to join me for dinner at my house? Or do you prefer to just go on a walk? How about we go to a fancy restaurant~ My treat~. Or maybe just enjoy each other's company at a park? You don't have to of course!"

(Words: 2095)

Logan: "Ah yes wonderful tactics stranger! This will surely be useless in my upcoming attempt!"

It was nearing the end of the day. Janus was closing up. Meanwhile Logan was trying to calm his nerves by reminding himself that he was objectivly very cool. He had on one of his best sweaters to look extra good (it had the tardis on it!).

"Alright. Looks like we can go home and have an existential crisis about the passage of time" Janus said motioning towards the exit.

Logan took a deep breathe before grabbing onto the sleeve of his crush' shirt "Please wait just a moment. How long have we known each other?"

"I guess since I started working here...so around 6 months? Please don't tell me you’re quitting! Work would just become soooo much more enjoyable"

"I was actually wondering if you mayhaps would like to accompany me on a so called 'hang out' during our leisure time...Today...Or some other day! If you want to! You don't have t-"

"No! No I would hate to!- Love! I mean I would love to!" Janus couldn't stop himself from grinning.

Logan flapped his hands in happiness "Good! So would you maybe like to go to the park nearby or-"

"No! Yes! Yes!"

"Great!"

Logan walked out of the library and held the door open for Janus. After quickly locking they walked towards the park. It was a simple small one. Just some trees, lots of grass, lots of people smoking grass, a pond, angry ducks, even angrier swans and exactly 1 ice cream shop.

All Logan wanted to do was take his crush' hand. It would be hard to do even if he tried to because Janus was constantly fiddling with his gloves. He was barely even looking at where he was walking.

"....I'm sorry for the weird way I talk sometimes" Janus quietly confessed "With the backwards talk. I kind of lie when I get nervous? I think?"

"Oh I know" Logan replied.

"You kNOw?" Janus' voice went up a tone.

"It is very noticeable but it is also quite charming if I may say so myself" It took a moment before he carefully added "Besides I have read that compulsive lying and also vitiligo can come from great stress or bad...events so even if I did not find it charming I wouldn't hold it against you either"

A small smile played on the edges of Janus' lips "Thanks"

"No need"

He took an impressively deep breathe before he stopped in the middle of the road and dramatically grabbed onto both of Logan's shoulders to stop him. He stood on his toes to make himself taller and stared into his love's eyes.

"I do not think you are also charming at all!!!" Janus very loudly announced.

Logan let up into a chuckle. He forced himself to keep eye contact "Well thank you"

Janus let go of him and kept walking very very quickly to try and distract from his red cheeks and heavy breathing. That was flirting right??? He had flirted??? He had done it??? He'd flirted??? The little voice in his head that he was starting to think was his self confidence trying to break through to him would be so proud!!!

“So would you perhaps like an ice cream in these trying times?” Logan asked. He was walking with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Oh right I would definitely love something high calorie that would just make me even more gross”

“Somehow your thick layer of sarcasm was the part of that sentence with the least falsehood in it. We can share one? Or if you get uncomfortable eating desserts in front of other people we don’t have-”

“SNAKE!” Janus interrupted him. 

He ran out into the grass of the park and hunched down to gently pick up a slippery snake. It was small enough to keep in one hand. He was repeatedly hitting his other arm against his leg and putting his fingers in uncomfortable positions.

Logan happily sat down next to him. Janus ungraciously shoved the snake right up near his face.

“It’s a baby northern watersnake! It’s not venomous I promise. It hunts fishes in the water. Isn’t that cool? It’s also one of the few species that doesn’t lay eggs! It can even put out musk to protect itself!! It’s so-”

He realized how much he was ranting and immediately forced himself to stop. He stopped his arm as well. He was so annoying.

“I apologize. Sometimes I just run my mouth and I do these stupid motions”

Logan boped his nose “The only stupid thing about that is you assuming I wouldn’t want to hear you rant. Or see you....stim...? I literally flapped my hands 5 minutes ago. I do not judge”

Janus shrugged at the stim question “My mother did always say that my father has adhd but that was in an insulting way. When I have done research on adhd I relate to a lot of it but it’s not like I have a diagnosis or anything”

“Bitchass mother” Logan mumbled under his breathe “I do not have diagnosed autism either but I do still now I have it.....Besides....Not to brag but I have both a deegre in both psychology and medicine so I can basically diagnose myself anyway”

Jan was already too overwhlemed to ask how the hell he had had the time for 2 bachelors deegre only to end up at a library.

“Anyhow we don’t have to talk about psychology...now...............maybe one day though” Logan did a little robotic evil laugh “For now maybe you can infodump about that snake, then we can get a shared ice cream and then I can infodump about glorious star trek. How’s that for a plan?”

His crush took a deep breathe before nodding. He stood up and cupped the snake in his hands. “You want to go to the pond don’t you little guy? Want to hunt and murder a few fishes don’t you?”

He turned to Logan and shuly said a few more facts while they went to the pond. He patted the snake on it’s head before carefully setting it down among the plants at the water’s edge.

The friends sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the snake as it looked for prey. (Though Logan spent most of the time adoring Janus’).

When the snake caught a small fish and swallowed it whole Janus broke out in happy flaps. He let out a happy squeal while pointing at it. Logan nodded back at him. He mimicked his flapping. 

He’d never seen Janus’ smile that brightly. Logan took his hand. Intertwining their fingers. They stimmed together until Lo pulled in his hand making his crush stumble into him. 

Jan sat with his head leaned against his chest. He looked up at Logan with blushing red cheeks. He forced himself to move back even if he didn’t want to.

“Sorry”

“No need” The nerd assured.

He stood up and held out his hand to help Janus up. They didn’t let go of each other’s hands as they walked towards the ice cream shop.

“To piss off homophobes” Janus lied up the explanation while motioning for their hand holding.

“Of course”

They ordered a scoop of lemon ice cream and sat down by the tables outside. Janus had taken off his gloves.  Their hands laid on top of each other. 

“Do you also have that experience where” Logan stopped to take a bite of ice cream “You categorize your life into what you were hyperfixated on at the time? For example I remember that when I met Patty I was into Doctor Who and right before then I was enjoying Sherlock Holmes”

Janus shrugged. He didn’t want to say that he had a hard time even remembering most of his life clearly “I can see the Doctor influence” He nodded towards his tardis sweater.

Logan’s eyes lit up “Oh have you seen it??? The ninth and fifth doctors are my favorite! Though as a bi man I can not ignore David Tennants’ everything”

“I have seen exactly 0″ 

“Well that is not a problem that can not be fixed! When I met Patty she hadn’t either- maybe because we were 12- but I show-”

Janus choked on his ice cream “12? Oh wow. For some reason I had assumed you were older”

“Oh no. She moved towns and started in my class. It was almost love at first sight. I stole flowers from my neighbor and invited her to see the movie everyone in town was talking about....Kung fu panda”

He broke out into a laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me Janny! It was an incredibly tactical decision. You see I knew she liked animals and the kung fu panda is a panda”

Janus doubled over the table while continuing to laugh “Me throwing popcorn at myself during my first hangout almost seems cool in conparison”

“Popcorn is usually hot. Not cooled down” Logan corrected. “Though to be honest the start of our relationship was sort of what you can call a ‘mess’ since as you already know both of us were foolish enough to think Patty was a guy. So suddenly I had to come to terms with liking guys. Until she told me she was a girl. So then I was straight. Until I met Thomas but that is a whole different story. It was like some people say a rollercoaster”

“Am I rude for finding that funny?”

“Yes incredibly and frankly you should be dragged to the guillotines right now”

Janus leaned closer to him with a sly smile on his face “Aw ~darling~ I didn’t know you could be sassy”

Logan did his best to hide how the nearly choked on his own spit “Yes I can indeed be if I want to. Just like how I have been able to have adequate facial expressions and voice tones and also eye contact during our whole hangout. Normally I only have a lot of expressions and tones if I am talking about hyperfixations or my wife”

“You don’t have to do that around me”

“Really? It does take a lot of energy to try and appear ‘normal’ but I was afraid of coming across as rude”

“Darling I find you lovely either way” Janus was going to pour up the biggest glass of fucking wine when he got home. He was a flirting machine!

“Oh okay” Logan relaxed his shoulders and started looking at a point right next to his shoulder instead of at his eyes. “Want to hear about Star trek the next generation? It’s the one with Data in it”

Janus squeezed his hand “I definitely have a very good idea about who that person is. Yes please tell me”

Logan went on a very very long infodump which Janus happily listened to (and did his best to reply to even though he didn’t know much). He was sure he would never get tired of hearing him talk. The ice cream nearly melted because they were both too busy with what he had to say.

“-And that is why the poetry actually have significance” Logan concluded after nearly half an hour.

“Well that sure sounds like an interesting series”

“I can show you it? Soon? I have it all on dvd”

“It’s a date- I uh I mean like planned thing not like romantic I mean-” Janus babbled out.

“I am aware of what you meant” He checked his watch “It is probably a good time for me to depart. It’s my turn on laundry today. I will get to categorize socks!”

“Wow. Sounds like a party”

Logan excitedly nodded. He stood up. Janus did as well. They looked down at their still connected hands. Jan was about to let go and simply leave but to his surprise Logan pulled him into a hug.

He leaned down and moved his arms around Janus’ waist. In return Jan quickly stood up on his toes and buried his head into his love’s shoulder. He breathed in his scent. Coffee and strawberry jam. He closed his eyes, taking in the moment.

“Janus, You are so special to me” Logan murmured while holding onto him as hard as he could.

“I- I love- I love being around you” He whispered back. Too afraid to say the truth.

Logan tried to memorise the way it felt to have him this close before letting go and taking a step back “Well I will see you tomorrow then”

“Can’t wait!”

[sayonarasanity]

Reverberation 

Chapter IV 

link to AO3

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3

Hideous. It was the most hideous thing she had ever seen.

Hanji observed her reflection in the mirror, with her mouth twisted in disgust, each and every hair on her body standing on end. Her hair fell down from one shoulder as a short braid, its tip barely reaching the slightly visible bump on her chest under the school uniform.

“Disgusting,” she commented.

“You look beautiful,” her mother exclaimed, wiping the imaginary tear from under her eye. Hanji sent her a very Levi Ackerman signatured gaze from the mirror. “I hate it.”

Her mother approached her from behind. She was a little shorter than Hanji, her head merely reached her neck. The older woman put her hands on her shoulder and caressed gently.

Then, getting her mouth closer to her ear, she whispered, “You lost the bet, honey.”

That she had. Cold-bloodedly and ruthlessly lost a bet which should’ve been the last thing she would agree to let alone losing it in the first place. Never again would she challenge the instincts of her mother while watching a TV series and guessing whether the main character would live or die.

Worst, and biggest mistake of her life.

“Mom,” she whined, losing every drop of dignity she had with playing the emotional blackmail card. “Please. At least, don’t make me do this on the first day of high school.”

“Rules are rules,” her mother said, ignoring her entreaty then proceeded to fold the clothes piled on top of her bed. “And since when do you care about what people think about you?”

“It’s not that,” she sighed. “I just don’t feel like myself like this.” She pulled at her hair, wrinkling her face.

“You’re not a kid anymore, Hanji.” She walked to her closet and put the folded clothes inside one of the drawers. “Bear it for one day.”

“But I don’t want to.” She groaned, covering her face with her hands and lying her head backwards.

Hanji felt her mother come close, then her hands cleared the dust on her shoulders and fixed her hair. “Have a nice day at school.”

Hanji let out a frustrated moan which was very successfully brushed off by her mother.

“Morning,” she muttered insipidly while she entered the kitchen. A bowl of cereal was ready for her already and she poured milk inside of it as she sat down on one of the chairs.

“Morning, honey,” her father responded. Hanji noticed that his voice had faded towards the end. “Umm, you look, uh, nice.”

“Don’t,” she warned, her mouth full and directed her spoon threateningly towards her father. “Dad, don’t say another word.”

Her father’s face was very red as he obviously held back his laughter. He coughed into his hand and cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, of course, of course.”

Just then, her phone vibrated with a text message. She didn’t need to look to know who it was from. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re not really mad at me, are you?” Her father asked as she got up from her seat and dropped her bag on her shoulder.

“No, dad, of course, I’m not.” She rolled her eyes and waved. “See you.”

Levi was waiting in front of the house, his back facing her. When he heard the sound of the door closing, he turned around.

And he froze.

“Levi, listen to me very carefully,” Hanji started calmly, while Levi stood as rigid as a stalactite. “If you so much as breathe I swear I’ll chase you to the school.”

Levi looked her over, with his customary, blank gaze which was almost impossible to read. Yet, Hanji knew him well, maybe better than he knew himself and she also knew that he was giving one of the biggest wars inside of himself to not give up and laugh at her face.

However, Levi Ackerman was not one to laugh. He had other ways to show his belittlement and mocking. He lifted his fist to his mouth, as his eyes shone vaguely with amusement and snorted, audibly. “Lookin’ good m’lady,” he said as if he was a 19th century English gentleman and was about to ask a high-born lady to dance in a flamboyant ball.

Frankly, Hanji didn’t even know what felt so wrong about braiding her hair, neatly and orderly on the first day of school. But for some reason, maybe because of the goddamn puberty she was going through—she was almost fifteen anyway—it irked her in a way nothing else did. And Levi was oh so aware of it.

“Ackerman!” Hanji snarled, as blood rushed to her cheeks in light speed and hence started their first-day marathon.

Levi had inhumanly fast reflexes. One second, he was standing in front of her, and the other he had already hurled himself to the street, running like a goddamn horse on a race. Hanji didn’t lose much time following after him, her steps were hard and fast on the ground. The braid her mother had so delicately made was winnowing left and right on her back as well as her backpack.

After almost ten minutes of exhausting and intense chasing, Levi was the first one to throw himself into the borders of the school. Hanji’s lungs were burning as if they had been exposed to hot, boiling water when she stumbled into the wide yard, breathing heavy and coughing miserably. Her neck, chest and back were all sticky with sweat. Levi was bent over, hands on his knees, his shoulders were rising and lowering with his fast inhales. He was tired too obviously.

But Hanji wasn’t done with him yet.

After her breaths more or less stabled and her heart quieted down, she sneaked up to him from behind being very aware of the crowd of students around them. No one cared about them just yet. And most certainly Hanji didn’t either. Levi slowly lifted his body, his schoolbag almost slipping down from his shoulder, and his neck shiny with droplets of sweat. He made the mistake of not checking what was behind him and hence gave Hanji the golden opportunity to jump onto his back.

“Hah!” she exclaimed. “You thought you could run away from me that easy—"

Her sentence was cut short when she realized that things weren’t going much as planned.

“Hanji!” he snarled and then, “Hanji, you fucking idiot!” Levi grabbed her legs and stumbled dangerously to the left. To where a table full of plastic glasses of lemonades was located.

“Oh no,” she gasped and held his shirt in her fists, tightly. “Oh, no. Levi, shit, watch out—"

So much for taking revenge. They both screamed at the same time when Levi couldn’t carry her sudden weight with his already tired and unstable body and together, they fell.

“Holy fuck!”

Hanji blinked her eyes. She was sitting on the ground, the ground which was wet with lemonade, as well as her uniform, her legs and she guessed, some parts of her hair. And if she was in such condition, then that also meant that Levi too—

A pair of arms wrapped around her neck from behind, making her gasp in shock. “Make your last wish, Zoe.”

“Levi,” she breathed, as he clung to his forearms with her hands. “Levi, please. Have mercy, have mercy!”

“In your goddamn dreams,” he tightened his arm around her neck just vaguely. Hanji knew he wouldn’t hurt her on purpose.

She couldn’t help it. She started to laugh. “I didn’t mean to—” she managed to say. “But you deserved it.”

He snarled right next to her ear. Oh, shoot. He was so, so pissed. “You’re dead.”

“The first day of high school,” an older and authoritative voice spoke from somewhere above them. Hanji looked up to see a man around his forties, with dark yellow hair and round glasses, wearing a well-ironed white shirt and black trousers. He had a blank, serious and bearded face. “And I see some of our newest students are already having fun.”

Hanji opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, or what excuses to line up, but Levi spoke before her. “It was my fault.”

“Levi!” she whispered harshly, turning her head slightly backwards to look at him.

“I am touched,” the man continued. Was he a teacher or someone else Hanji couldn’t exactly tell. He appeared to be way soberer to be one. “I didn’t know teens these days cared for each other this much. What are your names?”

“Levi,” he answered without so much delay.

“Hanji,” she followed right after.

The man nodded. “I am Adam Smith,” he introduced himself. “The headmaster.”

Oh, dear, Hanji thought bitterly, I wish I had the chance to look at my books one last time. Then she closed her eyes, afraid of having to face Levi’s wrath.

“And this is my son.”

Surprised, and with a slight hope, she dared to have, Hanji half lifted her eyelids, and her eyes travelled up until they met a blond boy around their age who had eyes as blue as agate. He was the most clean-cut boy she had ever seen since Levi. His school uniform was ironed straight without a single wrinkle left, and his hair seemed like quite an effort had been spent on it just this morning. But he looked friendly.

“Erwin, escort your friends to their houses and make sure they come back until the end of the first class,” the headmaster ordered the tone and his expression not altering just a bit.  

“Yes, sir,” the boy affirmed, nodding.

Mr Smith then stared at Hanji and Levi. “I won’t give you two any punishment since it’s the first day of your high-school life,” he said, his eyes moving back and forth between the two of them, intimately. “But I won’t be as considerate as I am now in case of any further improper conduct.”

“Yes, sir,” Hanji said, successfully remembering the fact that she was able to speak.

“And young man,” the headmaster directed his piercing gaze to Levi. Hanji felt the rising and falling of his chest on her back. She wished she could see his face too. “Mind your language or else I might have to speak to your parents the next time.”

Hanji couldn’t see Levi’s reaction but he must’ve at least nodded for the headmaster soon turned around and started to walk towards the door of the building.

“Here, let me help you.” As soon as his father left their side, the boy, Erwin, extended his hands to them to help them get up. Hanji accepted the gesture with gratitude and smiled at him as she stood on her feet again.

“Thank you.”

Levi stood up by himself and glared at Hanji then at Erwin. “Why the hell there was a table of lemonades on the goddamn schoolyard?” he asked, already forgetting the very threatening warning he had just received.

“My father thought it would help new students to get adapted easier,” Erwin explained. “I hadn’t thought it would work, to be honest.”

“Well, it didn’t.”

“I am Erwin,” the boy introduced himself then, nodded at Levi and smiled at Hanji.

“Hanji,” she said, beaming at him. “Say, Erwin, how is it like to be the son of the headmaster?”

“Complicated,” he replied gently. “I can tell you more on the way.”

“That would be great!” she exclaimed. “Right, Levi?”

He was still glaring at her, his clothes were half-wet, one side of his hair was sticky with lemonade, he looked like a forcefully bathed, grumpy cat. “I need to take a shower.”

“We don’t have that much time,” Hanji looked at Erwin for confirmation. “Can he?”

The boy shrugged. “Sure, if he makes it quick.”

Levi nodded then turned around toward the exit of the school. They started to walk behind him with Erwin. Hanji felt pretty much guilty watching him go, although she was the right one here in the first place. Still, she felt bad. She even felt more uncomfortable about the lemonade on him than on herself.

“Best friends?” he asked, probably noticing Hanji’s regretful gaze following the boy walking in front of them.

“Yeah,” she nodded, looking at him. “Childhood friends.”

Erwin hummed; his sharp, blue eyes moved to Levi. “He seems… intense.”

Hanji couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah,” she confirmed. “He kind of is.”

When they got out of the school borders, she realised she wouldn’t be able to keep this tense atmosphere any longer. She needed to talk to him. “Sorry,” she said, sheepishly. “Do you mind if I catch up to him?”

“No, of course. Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” she touched his arm. “It was nice to meet you by the way. I hope we’re in the same class.”

He smiled. “You too.”

Then she turned around and ran up to Levi, who was radiating his dark aura as if he was some kind of a nuclear weapon.

“Frailty, thy name is woman,” she recited when she reached up to him. Then bit her lower lip when he glared at her from the corner of his eyes.

“Fuck off.”

“You can’t stay mad at me forever, you know.”

“Watch me.”

“Leviii!” she exclaimed, then wrapped an arm around his neck. They stumbled together a little until they found their rhythm back. “I am sorry, okay? But I still think you kind of deserved it.”

“Get off me,” he pushed her lightly from the stomach. “You stink.”

“You stink too. We’re both sweaty.” She paused then added. “And we’ve just taken a lemonade shower.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Of us both.”

He sighed. “Whatever.”

She watched his profile for a while. “Am I forgiven?”

He met her gaze, eyes searching hers. He didn’t seem much angry anymore. “I’ll consider it.”

She smirked. “Roof after school?”

He nodded without even stopping to think. Seemed like she was forgiven already. “Sure.”

-

At the end of the first month of high school on a supposedly autumn day, she was standing in front of his door, wearing a black, denim jacket, sweatpants and holding a scissor in her hands.

“Missed me?” she stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. Levi closed the door, eyeing her suspiciously.

“It’s been only two hours since I’ve last seen you.”

She gasped as she stepped out of her shoes. “It’s been precisely four hours, thirty-seven minutes and—” she looked at her watch briefly. “Forty seconds since you’ve last seen me. I can’t believe you can be this reckless about the time we spent apart, Levi. And you call me your best friend.”

“I am regretting that sometimes.” Hanji ignored him as she walked inside the house. “Where is everyone?”

“In their rooms,” Levi raised his brows. It was almost midnight. “Why are you here?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“In this hour, yes,” Levi said matter-of-factly. He had no problems with having her here, never had, but it was Friday, and he was kind of tired. “So?”

Hanji raised the big ass scissor with one hand. “I want you to cut my hair.”

“Your hair?” His eyes scanned her hair, as messy as always, brought together with a black hair tie on the top of her head as a ponytail. “Four-eyes, I think you mixed the buildings. The hairdresser is down the street, on your right.”

Hanji rolled her eyes then stepped closer to him. “I don’t want to go to a hairdresser. I want you to cut my hair.”

“Hanji I’ve never cut anyone’s hair. Are you out of your mind?”

Rather than answering, she pressed the scissor on his chest so much so that he almost felt it on his ribcage. Her eyes were resolute and serious. “I am going to give you all my power.”

Levi sighed; his eyes moved up to the ceiling. The yellow light dazzled his sight, and he wondered what the hell had he done to deserve this at this hour of the night. Yet, there was a part of him, a part he was sure controlled more by Hanji rather than himself, and that part kept up with her bizarre mind almost subconsciously. “Samson?”

“Yes.” She was smirking when Levi lowered his gaze from the ceiling to look at her.

Levi shook her head. “You should stop living your life by fictional or Biblical characters.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Levi took the scissor she was continuing to press upon his chest when she applied more pressure not so subtly to imply him to hold it. She took her jacket off when he did and started to climb the stairs. Levi fell into step with her without losing much time.

“Why do you want to cut your hair anyway?” He asked, wondering.

“Because I don’t want to be the subject of my mother’s evil deeds anymore,” she replied with a low, dark voice.

“You are the one who is adamantly losing the bets,” Levi reminded her. Meanwhile, they had started to walk towards the bathroom through the dark corridor. Levi turned the light on as he passed by the button, then followed Hanji into the bathroom.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Your mother, obviously.”

She threw him a nonchalant look, “Traitor.” Then she reached for her hair tie and pulled it off.

When had her hair grown so long? Levi blinked as he watched the brown strands falling down from her shoulders in waves. Towards the end, a few of them were curling slightly on her back. He also noticed the different tones of brown, light, dark and chestnut, shading some parts of her hair. When her glasses followed the hair tie after, and Hanji put them on top of the washing machine along with her jacket, he asked, bewildered. “Who are you?”

She eyed him first like she was trying to figure out the reason why he was so shocked. It didn’t last long until the wheels sat in their places. “I am the evil twin,” she replied easily then, with a glint in her eyes. “We have to wash my hair first.”

Oh? Hanji willingly offering to wash her hair? She was that desperate about cutting her hair then. “We?”

“I can’t wash it on my own. I am practically half-blind right now.”

“Just say you have no idea about being clean, and we can get it over with four-eyes.” Levi dropped the scissor on top of her jacket and bending over the bathtub he turned on the tap, waiting for the water to get hot enough.

“Who am I to talk in your presence, Your Cleanliness?” She said, then laughed at her own joke, tilting her head backwards.

“Shut up,” he had tried to be strict and curt, not that he had failed. If only he hadn’t snorted right after. “Idiot.”

To wash his best friend’s most of the time hygiene neglected hair was a once in a lifetime opportunity, so Levi took his sweet time, rubbing her skull and her long locks with his shampoo two, three times until he was totally satisfied with the result. Hanji was restless as expected, she whined when shampoo got into her eyes and grunted when he pulled on her hair by mistake. Levi didn’t quite care about her compliments. She was the one to offer this whole thing after all.

After he thoroughly rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, he handed her a towel then got out of the bathroom to bring a chair for her to sit down.

When he came back, she was combing her hair in front of the mirror. “You sure about this?” he asked as he dropped the chair behind her and gestured her to sit down.

“Of course, I am.” Hanji settled down on the chair, and Levi, after getting the scissor back from the top of the washing machine, stood behind her. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“I am not promising a clean-cut,” he warned her beforehand and travelled his hand through her wet locks. The smell of the shampoo was clear and fresh and on the reflection in the misty mirror, her cheeks and eyes were vaguely red. She smiled when they made eye contact.

“I trust you.”

Cut.

The brown strands fell on the white tile one after the other, the metal scissor was the only one making sound inside the bathroom. Levi tried his best to cut her hair in a straight line just above her shoulders as she had requested. He didn’t know if he made a good job or failed miserably and gave her the worst haircut of her whole life. And he wasn’t sure if Hanji was faking it or not, but she looked ecstatic when he was done with the cut.

“I love it!” She was grinning at her reflection, now standing in front of the mirror. “Thank you, Levi!”

“Yeah, sure,” Levi said, doubtfully. He was still pretty much convinced that she was pretending. “You’re welcome.”

The stupid grin stayed plastered on her face as she wore her glasses and tied her now quite short hair. It wasn’t a successful attempt. Only a quarter of her hair had managed to fit into the tie, the rest was falling off on her nape and around her face.

Hanji gave him a thumbs up when she saw the way he was watching her. Still not satisfied but thinking that if Hanji was happy then it was all good, Levi shrugged. “You’re gonna stay the night?”

She paused for a second, thinking. Then nodded seconds later. “I’ll text my mom.”

After cleaning the bathroom, Levi brought Hanji a set of clothes for her to change into. He then went back to his room to prepare his bed for the night.

“I am so tired,” Hanji said, yawning as she joined him after a few minutes. She closed the door and sat down on Levi’s bed.

“You can take the bed,” Levi offered and patted his own pillow which was lying on the head of the makeshift bed on the floor. “The sheets are clean.”

“How very nice of you,” she said, smiling.

Levi turned off the light before he got under the sheets. He lied on his back, watching the dark ceiling. Every now and then, a car swept by and its yellow headlights filtering through the curtains created shadow patterns above.

When only minutes passed by, “Levi,” Hanji called him softly.

“Hmm?”

“These sheets smell like you.”

“Oh?” He blinked up to the ceiling, and his mind made a quick tour around the events of the past two days. He must’ve forgotten to change them. “Well, shit.”

She laughed quietly, and Levi turned his head to the side looking up at her. “Sorry, do you want me to change them?”

“No, it’s okay.” She tossed over to lie face down. Half of her face was on the edge of the bed. He could make out the lines of her lips and nose, and fluttering eyelashes. “You always smell nice.”

“I smell—”

“Clean, I know,” she snickered. “Hey,” she said then.

“What?”

“What do you think about the high school?”

“An asylum stuffed with a bunch of arrogant teenagers.”

“You are a teenager too, Levi.”

“I am not arrogant.”

“No, right, you’re a clean freak.”

“And you are a half-mad genius. We blend in.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, quietly. “We do.”

His eyelids got heavier and his breaths steadier when he thought the conversation was over for the night. Darkness lurked over him, it was deep and wide, and dominant. It demanded him to surrender, and he almost did until he heard Hanji’s voice again.

“I think our classmates are cool, though.”

He blinked open his eyes, “Yeah, some of them,” he muttered, voice dripping with sleep.

“Erwin is very intelligent,” Hanji went on, unaware. “He knows a lot of things. I think I like him the most. What about you?”

And just like that, he was wide awake again. “You sure do seem to get along really well,” he said bitterly, ignoring her question.

“Don’t tell me?” Levi heard the sheets rustling and felt Hanji looking down at him. “Are you jealous?”

“The hell does that mean?”

“So, you’re jealous.”

“Fuck off,” Levi turned his back to her, lying on his left.

A few blissful seconds passed in silence, then Hanji said, “You are though.”

“Am not.”

“Levi, come on,” Hanji urged his side until she made him lie on his back again. “Look,” she took the hand which was resting on his chest and enlaced their fingers. “You don’t need to be jealous. You know why?”

“I am not jealous. For fuck’s sake—”

“Because we are soulmates,” she cut him as if he never made a single word. “Which means there is nobody in the world who can understand you better than me,” she went on. “And there is nobody in the world who can understand me better than you.”

In the dark, Levi stared at their hands curled together, the tip of her fingertips was touching the back of his hand. And he pondered over how warm, smooth and somehow strong her hand felt against his. Strong as her existence, strong as her very soul and mind. Warm like the first days of summer and resilient like the frost-bound fist of a fallen soldier. She pressed their palms into each other, and as another car drove by the street Levi looked up to her face half-hidden in the shadows. Newly cut, damp hair resting like a dark nimbus on her cheek. Dark shades of her eyelashes were lined up on her cheekbones and they were reminding him of the beams around the sun. And she was staring at him like what she had just said was the only truth on earth.

He felt himself nodding, approving because she was right. Of course, she was.

I am an astronaut, he thought abruptly, completely out of the blue .  

“Goodnight,” she whispered then, he caught her smile just as the light vanished, and she was covered by darkness again.

Not entirely. It was innate in her. “Goodnight.”

He had no knowledge of the period after his conscience left the screen but until then he didn’t let go of her hand.

And neither did she.

-

“Hanjooo!” A muscular arm wrapped around her neck all of a sudden, while she was reading a book during the break, in front of the window on the school corridor.

“Hey, Mike,” she said, overcoming her shock at his sudden appearance.

Mike was a blond, green-eyed boy from her class. He was pretty tall and muscular for their age and she was almost certain that if the headmaster let him, he would absolutely grow a beard. “Are you free after school?”

“Umm, I guess?” She blinked. “Why are you asking?”

Mike smirked, playfully and kind of slyly. “I thought we could hang out together.”

“Together?”

“You and me,” Mike explained to be clear.

“You and— oh,” Hanji stopped as she kind of understood what Mike was implying. “But aren’t you, uh, I mean, don’t you have a thing for Na—”

Mike let go an uproarious laugh and patted her shoulder, almost making her choke on her own spit. “Joking, joking. We are thinking about hanging out after school. You know, me, Nana, Erwin, you and your little friend too if he would like.”

“You mean Levi?”

“Yeah.”

She hummed and shrugged. She didn’t think Levi would say no if she agreed to go. “I’ll ask him…”

Just then, she saw Levi climbing the stairs with Petra who was another classmate of theirs and one of Levi’s friends from middle school. They were talking at the same time; Levi was nodding to something Petra was telling him. The scene was quite ordinary, just two friends talking to each other, but Hanji had realized it was the mimics that were kind of different. The way Petra pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, the way she was smiling shyly at something Levi had said, the way Levi’s features were relaxed and almost soft as he talked to her.

And also, as for herself, the way she felt her shoulders tense, the way something murky, almost venomous walking tiptoe on her gut. It was a strange and unwelcomed feeling and she quickly got disposed of it as Levi moved his head and their gazes locked for a second before his eyes travelled down to her shoulder and he glared at it as if he had just seen his biggest enemy.

Petra touched his shoulder lightly and said something Hanji couldn’t hear, and he nodded absently while Petra walked away to the other direction toward the class after a brief glance at Hanji’s side.

Levi walked up to where Hanji and Mike were standing. “Hey!” she greeted him, smirking.

He squinted at Mike who was retreating his arm from around her shoulder at the time and nodded at her stifly.

“I’ll see you after school, then,” Mike said. “You too, man,” he added addressing Levi, then turned around to walk up to Erwin who was sitting at one of the tables placed next to the wall.

“What is that giant talking about?” Levi asked after Mike left.

“Well, buckle up,” Hanji told him while shutting her book with a thud. “We’ve got plans after school.”

-

It was February, and it was cold.

The five of them were walking through a park, all around there were giant, old and naked trees that were reaching high up to the sky. On the earth below them, thousands of pale leaves were piled up. The colours of fall were still visible here and there, on the yellow, orange and red skins of the leaves, on the pine trees down the road, on the dry rustle of the brown branches.

“How pretty,” she cooed.

As Mike suggested they were hanging out after school. If walking through a park counted as hanging out that is. Erwin, Nanaba and Mike were walking before them while Levi and Hanji were following them right behind.

“What is?” Levi asked.

“The colour of fall,” she replied with a smile.

“It is Winter,” he objected but looked around himself nonetheless then hummed confirming.

“Hey,” she urged his shoulder lightly. “Wanna race to that tree?”

Levi followed the direction Hanji’s head gestured with his eyes. A single tree just some miles away from where they were. “Why would I race with someone knowing they will lose?”

Hanji scoffed, “Don’t underestimate me.”

“Are you challenging?”

“What do you think?”

She put an arm on his chest to stop him from walking any further. “On three.”

They took position side by side. Hanji felt her mouth curling up, and a peal of laughter shaped on her throat, but she avoided it from going out and counted to three instead. “Go!”

They both hurled forward at the same time and she felt their friends looking at them surprised as they ran past them, but within minutes Levi was far beyond her. Like the first day of school, he was running like his life was depending on it, his dark hair a wild wave and his steps seemed like he was more like flying than running. Hanji was laughing breathlessly as she forced her legs to their limits, her short hair sticking to her nape with sweat, and she ran, ran and ran to the tree with him, with a wind he carried, the storm he ruled. As if she were a ship without a helm so she merely let the wind lead her to the harbour.

Levi won, in the end, but he lost his balance when Hanji, unable to slow down, crashed against his back. Along with grunts, swears and laughter they fell down, lying side by side on top of the leaves. Breathing heavily and loudly, chest moving up and down, watching the clouds sliding slowly one by one.

She turned her head towards him, still breathing hard and traces of laughter on her lips and she saw him looking upwards with the slightest but peaceful curl of his mouth. His eyes shone like the sand under the midday sun, like invaluable pieces of stone, like the surface of the moon. The colour of fall around his head, sweaty, raven hair scattered on the leaves whose time had long passed. The red colour of fall on his cheeks, because of the cold and because of their race. For the first time, she realised how dark his eyelashes were. Black like the wings of a crow, the feathers of a raven.

For the first time, she realised how beautiful he was.

Beautiful? The word startled her like an unexpected jolt of lightning. She almost winced, frozen on the spot. She didn’t know why, she couldn’t name the curl, crawls on her stomach. She also didn’t know the reason why she felt like crying, her breath hitched, her eyes wide, terrified. She couldn’t understand what felt so wrong about this but somehow it was undoubtedly close to denying gravity.

“What?”

He was staring at her, a frown shaped on his face. She winced visibly; she hadn’t noticed him looking back at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Are you okay?” His frown deepened.

“Yes,” she lied and quickly stood up albeit a little clumsily. Then fixed her clothes and hair. “Perfectly fine.”

He was looking suspicious as he too stood up. “You sure?”

She nodded drastically, avoiding meeting his eyes. “Let’s go join the others.”

Then she turned around without giving him a chance to speak. Crashing whatever had happened just now with each step she took and relentlessly stepping on the wildflower she felt sprouting within her stomach.

-

Watching the way the flames moved was addicting. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the dancing fire, the red knots flying around it like fireflies, the transit of colours from tip to the end and the crackling sound it made. It was a good enough distraction from her uninvited thoughts.

“Didn’t think this was what they meant by hanging up.” He sat down next to her on the sand. They were on the beach, stupidly challenging against the cold weather.

She smiled playfully. “Why? Did you think we would go to a party and get tanked up?”

Levi threw her an unimpressed look, “No. I thought we would go to a café with an air conditioner and drink hot tea.”

He got a point, she couldn’t deny. “They managed to make a fire though,” Hanji said, extending her hands toward it.

“Yeah, I am impressed.”

She snorted lightly and wondered where the other three had been. They had gone to buy beverages and snacks to eat about ten minutes ago.

“Hey.” Hanji felt him sliding closer to her. Their shoulders almost touched. “Are you okay?”

She nodded watching the flames with unfocused eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

She looked at him then to find him watching her carefully, with his full attention on her. She thought about the wildflower, and as she sought a solution, she found it on him again. “We are besties forever, right?”

Seemingly confused, Levi frowned vaguely, trying to see beyond her words. And maybe he did or maybe not when he replied she almost lost her courage to continue. “No, not forever.” It lasted for merely seconds, because she had understood what he was coming to. “To the last syllable of recorded time,” they said at the same time, echoing each other.

She smirked, as he chuckled. “I can’t believe you make me say it every time.”

“I don’t make you say it,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You are saying it willingly.”

He grunted and looked away, a smile stayed hanging on the corner of his lips, the flames painted his face, played with the colour of his eyes. It was there, the word, so close to invade her mind yet again with guns and rifles. It was that perilous to let it stay because it would only cause a ravage in her mind.

For that, she looked away too.

Do not water the plant, she thought to herself then. Let it grow old and decayed. Let it fade away.  

[meowmerson]

Can you write a Tomione doctor AU? I’ve always thought it would be really cute if they were surgeons.

perhaps…………………a nurse/patient AU????????????? :)

(only because i was trying to think of a story for doctor tomione but my brain kept going back to this so i hope its ok, if it s not you can send me another ask DEMANDING A SURGEON AU and i promise i will brainstorm an idea)

(also uh im sorry i made it really long)

–

It’s the tail end of the night shift when she sees him, although the first time is fleeting. Fleeting, but not irrelevant. 

He’s flanked by six guards from the prison. He looks like he’s in pain, and quite a lot of it. He’s wheeled in on a hospital bed to room 119 and she watches from the reception desk as he and his entourage of prison guards pass her by in almost slow motion. 

“What timing,” Lavender said with a cheeky grin, “Your shift just ended. You’ll miss out on all the fun.”

“Your idea of fun,” Hermione corrected, completing her chart for the night, “My idea of fun involves going home, having breakfast with my daughter, taking her to school, and going to sleep,” She put her pen down and smiled in the face of Lavender’s pout, “But enjoy the day shift with the clearly dangerous criminal.”

“Tell Rose I said hi,” Lavender said. 

Hermione went home and did exactly as she said she would. She paid the babysitter, laid down in Rose’s bed for a moment before gently waking her. She smiled at her 3-year-old daughter across bowls of cheerios and listened to her talk about what she dreamt about the night before. Then she dressed Rose, brought her to pre-school, kissed her goodbye, and returned home. She fell asleep in her scrubs, and didn’t dream about the man flanked by prison guards. 

–

Hermione worked nights for a few reasons. The biggest one was the amount of time she got to spend with her daughter - she could always skimp on sleep to spend more time with Rose, but she couldn’t exactly skip work, and if she only worked while Rose was sleeping (save for a few precious hours at night) it meant she would never need to miss a school play, a birthday party, pancakes on sundays, or pillow forts in their living room. She could see all of that. 

Nights were quieter too. No visitors, some patients slept but some didn’t, Lavender only worked day shifts so Hermione only ever saw her for an hour at most if their shifts overlapped which was about as much of Lavender as she could take. And no visitors, god Hermione hated visitors. 

She worked 3 nights a week, sometimes 4 if she needed the money and they had an overtime shift for her. She was always tired, always a bit stressed, and her hair had never looked worse than it did in motherhood, but it was all worth it for the time she got to spend with her daughter. 

She had to remember that, when she had nights like this one. 

“Apparently he hasn’t urinated in a week,” Neville said, “He had a pretty severe blatter infection and sepsis but is steadily getting better,”

“Why hadn’t he urinated?” Hermione asked, and Neville shrugged. 

“They think it might be an escape plan, so uh,” he none-too-subtly leaned to the side to peer at the guards outside room 119, “They’re keeping an eye on him.”

“How is he?” She asked.

“Horrible,” He answered, “Right bastard, gave Lavender hell all day on his first day in, didn’t sleep all night, then we gave him to Minerva–”

“Well, surely she set him straight,” Hermione interjected.

Neville laughed, but there was no humor in it, “Yeah well, she handled it fine, but she also said if we give him to her as a patient again she’s going to retire.”

“Shit,” Hermione sighed. She thought of Rose, asleep in her bed and thought of seeing her in the morning and waking her up for breakfast, “So naturally you give him to me.”

“Well,” He shrugged, looking sheepish, “It was either you or me, so…”

“So you sweet-talked the charge nurse into giving you an easy night?” Hermione quirked a brow and Neville just grinned. Hermione sighed, picked up the chart, and turned to face Room 119. 

There were only two guards now, not six, and they nodded at her as she entered. 

Tom Riddle sat on the bed in a room of his own, he looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes, and he fixed his eyes disconcertingly on her the moment she stepped through the door. 

“My name is Hermione,” She said, putting gloves on at the door, “I’ll be your nurse tonight.”

“Is that so?” He asked. His voice was deep, but gravelly. He must be exhausted, she thought, if he truly hadn’t slept since he arrived. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, but before he could answer she added, “I hear you haven’t slept since–”

“How can I sleep?” He cut her off, “Sitting in a hospital bed with a new nurse every few hours asking me the same inane questions?”

Hermione paused, observed him for a moment. She had dealt with plenty of difficult patients, was used to biting her tongue and slapping a smile on her face. He kept staring at her with dark eyes, his jaw clenched, and she knew what she was in for. 

“Well, Mr. Riddle,” Hermione said with a smile, “I will endeavor not to ask the same inane questions, then.” She stepped closer, made a vague gesture in his direction and asked, “May I?”

He was receiving fluids, antibiotics, seemed stable, she just needed to check his blood pressure to be sure. The fact that he obviously hadn’t slept wasn’t a good sign and certainly wouldn’t help in his recovery. He nodded once, tersely, and she glanced back at the guards at the door. 

“Is it because of the guards that you won’t sleep?” She asked as she took his blood pressure. His brow twitched, but he didn’t look away from her face.

“If I said yes, would you take them away?” He asked her. She looked up from her work to meet his eye and tried to figure out if he was making a joke. 

Either way she laughed, shook her head, and said, “I think we would both love that, but no, unfortunately not.”

His blood pressure was low, but according to his chart improving. It would probably help if he slept. She met his gaze, he was still watching her. “Your blood pressure is low.” She told him, “You should sleep.”

“I should sleep?” He echoed, his brow rose like he was talking down to a child, “Close my eyes, and dream?” He looked almost crazed, she thought. She wasn’t sure if that was the lack of sleep, the time he spent in prison, or maybe it was just who he was. Either way, she didn’t move - it was always better not to react when a patient became angry. “Let the medication take effect, while the rest of you skirt around me like an animal in cage–”

“Sir–” She interjected, but he spoke over her. 

“While men with guns fantasize about the possibility of turning those very guns on me while I sleep and while I continue to be denied visitors that I would typically be allowed to see simply because I am unwell–” She sighed and made to move away as he worked himself up, but he grabbed her arm. She met his eyes again “–Don’t pretend to be concerned for my health, nurse,” He spat, “Shut your mouth, treat me, and keep your inane thoughts to yourself, lest I lose my temper.”

“Hey!” A guard from the door called, took a step into the room. Hermione held out a hand to stop him, “Miss–” 

“Please let me do my job!” She said, turning to hold a hand out more firmly against the guard at the door. He hesitated, shifted his weight on his feet. “Return to your post, please.”

The guard very pointedly looked at the place where Mr. Riddle’s hand was on her arm. Hermione looked at that same hand, then back at the guard, and she hoped she was communicating every ounce of annoyance she felt in that stare.

The guard returned to his post. 

Hermione’s gently pried Tom Riddle’s fingers from her arm. “It was merely a suggestion,” She said and met his eyes with a smile, “Stay awake if you wish.”

He was stable, so she turned to leave the room. The guard stopped her at the door. “Hey, uh–” He said, glancing into the room and back at her, “Could I get a sandwich?”

She looked him up and down. 

“It’s just, we’ve been here all day, I’m pretty hungry.”

“No,” She snapped, “We don’t give sandwiches to the guards, they’re for the patients.”

“Well, he’s not going to eat it.” He said, gesturing toward Room 119 with his head. Hermione, taken aback, glanced into the room and saw Mr. Riddle’s eyes fixed on her before she looks back at the guard.

“Don’t ask me again,” She said, and walked away. 

–

That night, she had Mr. Riddle with the temper and the armed guards, Mrs. Sprout with the lovely disposition recovering from a severe allergic reaction, and Mr. Crouch the drug seeker in the hospital for a broken leg who wouldn’t stop screaming for opiates, and Mr. Riddle’s stupid fucking guard who kept asking her for sandwiches.

It was a long night. 

“What is he in for, anyway?” Padma asked, looking toward Hermione for an answer. She didn’t have to specify who - obviously she meant the one with the guards. Hermione shrugged - she really didn’t know.

“Like everything.” Neville said, pouring himself a coffee while Padma patiently awaited her cup. “He’s in jail for life for everything from selling weed to killing people and chopping them up.”

“No way,” Padma said.

“Yes way,” Neville took a sip from his coffee and shrugged, “You heard about him - he went by Voldemort.”

Padma gasped, turned and faced Hermione with wide eyes and a wide-open mouth, “Hermione, you’re treating Voldemort,”

“I’m treating a very irritable prison patient” Hermione corrected, “And not for the first time.”

“He was all over the news last year!” Padma said, clearly distressed, “He’s crazy - and I heard he didn’t piss for a week to be sent here, this is probably all his plan or–”

“Padma, drop it.” Hermione snapped. “There are two guards outside his room, a guard at the lifts, a guard at each stairwell and at the front entrance of the hospital. Mr. Riddle is in a hospital bed recovering from sepsis.” She stood up, “I suggest we all stop panicking and help him to recover, like it’s our job to do.”

She left the break room and glanced toward Room 119 and saw only one guard.

“Excuse me!” She called, hurrying toward the singular guard, “Excuse me,” She said again, peeking into the room. Mr. Riddle was still awake, watching her as she appeared in the doorway. She looked at the guard, “Where the hell is the other one?”

“Miss, please calm down.” The guard said. 

“Where is he?” She asked again, “Where has he gone - doesn’t he have a job to do?”

“He stepped away for a moment.”

“Stepped away where?” She demanded.

“Calm down, nurse,” A voice said, and she turned her head to see the guard approaching with a sandwich in his hand. 

“Where did you get that?” She asked quietly, a familiar feeling of annoyance mixed with rage in her chest, the kind that only comes after a long night of work on very little sleep.

“The vending machine downstairs.” He said, shrugging. He started to open the package, but Hermione snatched it out of his hands. 

“This nurse has a name,” She said, “It’s Hermione Granger, and I expect you to use it. And no one,” She lifted the sandwich to eye level, right in his face, “Is going to be eating any sandwiches here except for Mr. Riddle, as he is the patient. The rest of us will do our jobs and eat when we’re done.”

The guard laughed, “Okay, okay, just give me back the–” He reached for it and she snatched it away. His smile fell off his face. 

She marched into the room, tearing open the package and thrusting it toward Mr. Riddle in his bed. 

“He doesn’t want it!” The Guard protested.

“Yes he does,” Hermione snapped, and turned back toward Mr. Riddle in the bed, who was staring oddly at her. “Don’t you, Mr Riddle?”

He just stared at her. She thought maybe he would have another temper tantrum and start yelling. “Take it,” She encouraged gently, “Please.”

To her surprise, he did. He took the sandwich and took a bite, watching her all the while. 

She smiled. 

“There,” She said, turning back toward the guard, “Don’t leave your post again or I will inform your superior.”

She left the room, grateful that Mr. Riddle didn’t have another one of his outbursts this time. 

Her shift was nearly over anyway. 

–

When she returned home, she laid down in Rose’s bed minutes before she was meant to wake. 

“Mummy?” Rose murmured.

“Good morning,” Hermione whispered.

“I dreamed you were a kangaroo.” Rose said.  Hermione laughed. 

“Were you a Joey?” Hermioned asked. 

“No,” She said, “I’m a Rose.”

Hermione laughed again, “A Joey is a baby kangaroo,” She explained. 

“Oh,” Rose said, and then, “Can we have cheerios?”

Hermione loved these moments more than anything.

She watched Rose over bowls of Cheerios again. She would gladly spend every morning, every moment like this. She thought of the loneliness she felt when she first found out she was pregnant, the boundless love she felt when she held her in her arms for the first time, the feeling in her chest like she was going to explode with happiness when the nurse handed over her baby, wrapped in a white blanket.

She dreamed of a life where she could have this always, no interruptions. 

–

She returned to work the next night. 

“Why the hell do I have Riddle again?” She asked when she looked at the assignments for the night. Lavender was there, the tail end of her shift, and she raised her eyebrows and looked away. “What?” Hermione pressed. 

Minerve spoke up, “He asked for you.”

“He what?” Hermione balked. 

“Fucking screamed about it,” Lavender muttered, “I tried to bring him something to help him sleep and he slapped it out of my hand and said he wouldn’t take anything from the hand of a whore.”

“He said what?” 

“He’s crazy,” Lavender said, “Fucking crazy, good luck Hermione, you’ll need it.”

And she left like that, clearly furious. Hermione looked to Minerva, but Minerva said nothing, simply raised her eyebrows in the way she always did and left to start her rounds. 

The guards outside the room were different than the night before. They nodded to her as she entered. Mr Riddle watched her, looking more tired than ever. 

“Miss Granger,” He greeted. 

“Mr. Riddle,” Hermione replied, smiling, “I heard you were asking for me.”

“You’re my favorite nurse.” He said. 

“Already?” Hermione asked, “Well, it sounds like you aren’t giving anyone else much of a chance.”

“I liked seeing you with McLaggen yesterday.” He said. Hermione wasn’t sure what he meant, and that must have shown on her face, because he said, “The guard.”

“Ah,” She nodded, and added, “You know, this version of you doesn’t exactly match up with the man who apparently slapped medication out of a nurse’s hand and called her a whore.”

“That nurse,” Riddle said as Hermione read over his chart and set about checking his vitals, “goes between speaking to me like I’m a child, and speaking to me like I’m a war criminal.”

“Sometimes you act like both,” Hermione said. 

Mr. Riddle snapped his eyes to meet hers, and it took that for her to realize he finally hadn’t been staring at her. But he was now. Hermione blinked, and then realized what she just said. 

“I hope you won’t start slapping me and calling me a whore.” She said, a poor attempt at a joke.

He smiled then, and it struck her that despite the dark circles around his bloodshot eyes, despite his pale skin and gaunt cheeks he really was sinfully handsome. “You wouldn’t like that?” He asked. 

“No,” Hermione said firmly, and trying to change the subject she asked, “Are you hungry?”

“I am,” He said, but before she could be too pleased by his cooperation, he continued, “But first I have a question.”

“Yes?” She prompted. 

“How old are you?” He asked. 

She smiled. Such a random question, such a strangely serene patient. “I’m 27.”

“You look older,” He said, and she couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh. “I don’t mean any offense,” He continued, “I mean that you don’t hold yourself like most people your age.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“The way you look. Like someone who has a large amount of responsibility and wisdom. A teacher, a scholar,” Hermione was taking her gloves off when he said, “Or a mother.”

She paused. She watched him for a long moment in silence. The guards stood silently outside the door.

“I apologize,” Mr. Riddle said, “I am only trying to make conversation. 

“Are you a father?” She asked him, and he laughed. Twice she’d seen him smile now. 

“No,” He said, “I never had time.”

She thought about what Padma and Neville said in the breakroom, thought about the armed guards at every exit. She wondered why he was asking her these questions, why he was here, why he had forced himself to become ill enough to end up in the hospital, she wondered…

“I have a daughter.” She admitted. Because here he was a man, receiving treatment, and she refused to treat him like an animal. 

“Does she look like you?” He asked her, “Or her father?”

She smiled, a bit tightly, and didn’t answer. 

He did a funny thing then - hie eyes narrowed just a bit, he tilted his head, and his mouth twisted in what wasn’t quite a smile but couldn’t be defined as anything else. 

“I’ll get you something to eat.” Hermione said, “Do you want something to help you sleep?”

“Not yet,” He said, “I don’t want to sleep while you’re here.”

Her stomach twisted at that, and she a strange, nervous feeling made her hands twitch, as if there was something humming just underneath her skin. 

“I’ll bring you some food.” She said. 

“Thank you, Hermione.” He said. 

The guards watched her as she left the room. 

–

He was the easiest patient she ever had. 

He let her run his IV, administer the antibiotics, check his vitals, all without any complaints, just a few odd questions. He didn’t ask about her daughter again, perhaps because he noted that she became uncomfortable when he did. Instead, he asked what her parents did for a living, he asked where she was from, he asked irrelevant things like her favorite flower and how she took her tea. 

He was much chattier than she expected him to be. 

“Miss Granger,” Minerva said in the break room, using her surname as if she was a patient. She always did that. “How has Mr. Riddle been?”

“Fine, actually.” Hermione said. “The guards are more difficult than he is, although the ones tonight aren’t so bad. They’re quiet.”

Minerva raised a single eyebrow and said nothing else. 

Hermione gave Tom Riddle a sleeping pill at the end of her shift, and he took it with a smile.

–

“Do you have to go?” Rose asked. 

It was 7:00pm. The babysitter had just arrived and Hermione was dressed in her scrubs ready to go to work for the third night in a row and Rose was crying. Hermione brushed her daughter’s hair out of her face and felt her heart wrench. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” She said, “I’ll be back in the morning, just like always.”

“But I want you to read me a story,” Rose sniffled, snot running out of her nose. She wiped at it messily with the back of her hand. “I want you to read me a bedtime story.”

“I’ll read you a story in the morning, I promise.” Hermione said, “I’ll come back home, just like always, in the morning. When you wake up I’ll be right there next to you.”

She never once wished that Rose’s father was around - he didn’t even know he had a child, and Hermione would keep it that way - but in moments like this, she always wished she wasn’t alone. Maybe it would be easier that way. 

Rose wouldn’t stop crying. Hermione had to shut the door on her crying and begging her mother not to leave. 

–

“Again?” Hermione snapped as soon as she saw the assignments for the night. “Again? Seriously?”

“Stop complaining,” Lavender snapped, “Everyone knows he’s an angel with you.”

“Why are you still here?” Hermione snapped back, and Lavender glowered back at her. 

“I’m just leaving,” She said, “He has given me hell ever since he woke up, so good fucking luck.”

She watched Lavender storm out, but the only thing she really took from that conversation was that he finally got some rest. She looked at Room 119, saw the guards outside the door. McLaggen, the annoying one, he still wasn’t there - it was the same guards from the night before. 

She started toward the room, and the guards watched her closely as they always did. They nodded to her as she entered the room.

And she stopped short. 

A tall, blonde man was sat by Mr. Riddle’s bed. He had one of Riddle’s hands clasped between his, and looked as if he was saying something quite passionately before Hermione interrupted. 

Visitors weren’t allowed on the night shift. 

Tom Riddle wasn’t meant to have visitors at all.

“What the hell is this?” Hermione asked, quietly, let the low tone of her voice fill the room that was silent except for the steady beating of Mr. Riddle’s heart monitor. 

Tom Riddle blinked at her, and said nothing. 

“No visitors.” She said firmly, and turned toward the guards, “Why the hell does he have a visitor?”

The guards looked at each other, and then her, and said nothing. 

She turned toward the blonde man, feeling as if she was in a dream or on a TV show, something that couldn’t be real life, “Get out.” She snapped, “No visitors - what part of no visitors do you not understand? Who let you in here?”

“Nurse,” The blonde man snapped, holding up a finger as if to say ‘wait, one second, “Give us a moment.”

“No, I will not give you a moment.” Hermione snapped, “No visitors. Period. You need to leave.” She turned to the guards, “Excuse me?” She threw up her hands, hoping they would soon understand the ridiculousness of the situation. “Get him out.”

The guards walked in, finally, and said, “Sir, it’s time to leave.”

“No, it is not time to leave.” The blonde man snapped. He must come from money, Hermione thought, that was the only thing that would explain his tone. “We are having a private conversation, so if you don’t mind–”

“Abraxas,” Mr. Riddle interjected. “Do as Hermione asks.”

First, the blonde man - Abraxas - screwed up his face and looked at Mr. Riddle like he thought he was crazy. Then he looked at Hermione, and back at Tom. His expression changed, flattened out, like he suddenly understood something, then he turned his eyes back to Hermione and stared. 

He just stared and stared, his expression unreadable, in a way that made Hermione acutely uncomfortable. 

“Goodbye, sir,” She said, then turned to the guards and said, “Could you both do your job, please?”

“No need,” Abraxas said, his tone quieter, less snobby, less snippy. “I’ll see myself out.”

He reached down and clasped Mr. Riddle’s hand once more, but said nothing. Then he left.

Hermione shut her eyes and took a deep breath, tried to shut the anger away. She felt on edge tonight, it started with the way she left her daughter and was only made worse with all this bullshit. She turned on the guards again, who were returning to their post. 

“No visitors.” She snapped, “At all.”

One of the guards nodded tersely. Neither said anything. 

She turned back to Mr. Riddle, who was watching her patiently from his bed. 

She shouldn’t mention it to him. She knew he could get nasty, she shouldn’t try his temper, she should try to have a nice night at work, but she couldn’t help herself. “You know you aren’t allowed visitors.” She said.

“I know.” He agreed, “I apologize. He always visited me in custody - it is a wasted effort to try and explain to him that anything should be different here.”

“Seems its a wasted effort to explain anything to him at all.” Hermione snarked, pulling on her rubber gloves. Mr. Riddle chuckled.

“You aren’t wrong,” He agreed, and watched her very closely as she approached the bed, “You seem agitated.”

“How are you feeling?” She asked, ignoring his observation. 

“I am steadily improving,” He said, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing just fine,” She said, moving to take his blood pressure. He caught her arm, far more gentle than the last time he touched her. 

“Hermione,” He said her name quietly, reverently, it made her stop in her tracks for a moment. “I can tell that you aren’t.”

She met his eyes then. She had no desire to entertain whatever delusions he was experiencing, whatever it was he thought was going on here. She wanted to get on with her job and return home to her daughter and let him be dragged back to prison. 

“I am frustrated that the patients of this hospital are incapable of following basic instructions, and concerned about how incapable the guards outside your room seem to be at doing their job.” She said, “I would like to check your vitals, and then go about my job. I have patients other than you, Mr. Riddle.”

His jaw clenched. He let go of her arm. 

She went about her business, and he let her. No questions, no comments, no interruptions. It felt strange, charged, she found that she preferred it when he asked her odd questions. 

Abruptly, she felt guilty. Not because she felt like Mr. Riddle didn’t deserve to be told off, because she believed that he did. But it was her job to be his nurse, not anything else, and she had no business telling him off when he was being nothing but polite. She always hated the idea of someone being treated like a burden, or an animal, or anything other than a person in need of human interaction, and who was she to tell off the patient when it was the guards and the nursing staff who allowed it to happen in the first place?

“My daughter,” She said after a long stretch of silence, “She was crying when I left. I hate to leave her like that.”

“It must be difficult,” He said, not missing a beat, as if he was ready for her to break the silence. “Raising her on your own.” 

“Yes,” She agreed, “It is. I wish I could be with her all the time.”

“You are a good mother.” He told her. 

She stopped her work, raised her head to meet his eyes again. He was always staring at her so intensely, in a way that made her hair stand on end. 

She couldn’t help herself when she asked him, “Why do you have armed guards all throughout the hospital guarding you?”

He smiled, “Because I’m a prisoner.” He told her. 

“I can’t imagine you committing a crime so terrible you need to be brought in by six guards.” She admitted. 

He smiled, and said nothing else. 

And something about the way he looked away from her then, looked toward the guards, still smiling, like something about this whole situation was deeply amusing that made her think; it truly wasn’t so far fetched. 

And remember the way he acted to people other than herself, remembering the way he somehow had a visitor with the permission of the guards and the nursing staff, she wondered why she had thought it was far-fetched, even for a minute.

She needed some air. 

“Are you hungry?” She asked.

“Yes,” He answered, “But not yet.”

A strange answer, but Hermione just nodded and left the room. 

The guards, as always, watched her as she left.

–

Hermione researched Voldemort on her break.

Neville wasn’t wrong, he was in prison for life. He was found guilty on counts of Assault, kidnapping, theft, robbery, murder, and multiple drug charges. He was the kingpin for the Death Eaters, which as Hermione understood from the news she read, was an organized crime unit that participated in predominantly drug and arms trading. 

If the hospital was an escape plan, as was the original concern, she wondered how someone like him could take so long to carry out his plan. She wondered why he was still there, sitting in his hospital room surrounded by prison guards, sitting patiently, as if he didn’t have any plan but to get well again. 

She called the babysitter to check on Rose. She was asleep in her bed. 

Hermione took a deep breath and returned to work. 

–

“You don’t work tomorrow night.” Mr. Riddle said when she was checking on him after her break. 

“No, I’m not.” Hermione said, “Did you ask someone if I was?”

“Yes,” He admitted, “You’re my favorite nurse.”

Hermione smiled. “Try not to call any other nurses whores and you should be just fine.”

“I can’t help it,” He said, “It does make me angry when I have a nurse who isn’t you.”

“That’s rather childish, don’t you think?”

“You know, we’ve met before.” He admitted, and that abruptly caught Hermione’s attention. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, quietly, as if they were telling secrets. 

He lowered his voice to match her tone, “Once, you looked after a gunshot wound for one of my friends,” Hermione furrowed her brow, shaking her head, she was sure she would remember meeting him. “Before that, a colleague who nearly lost their leg,” 

“Mr. Riddle–”

“But that wasn’t the first time.” He continued. His gaze was decidedly intense now. Hermione felt helplessly caught up in it. “The first time,  I came to the hospital on business.” He reached out, wrapped his fingers around her wrist, “You were a patient, and I was in the wrong room.”

She didn’t know what he meant. She didn’t remember. 

“I held your daughter in my arms,” Hermione felt something heavy settle in her chest, something cold, “You were half asleep. You asked me to hand her to you, you didn’t know who I was. I realized I was in the wrong room but I couldn’t bear to leave.”

“Why were you there?” She asked, her voice was shaking slightly, try as she may to conceal it. 

“I was waiting for someone,” He said.

“To threaten them with their baby in your arms?” She guessed. He had that strange expression again, his eyes slightly narrowed, his head tilted, and she knew she was right. “What are you doing here, Mr. Riddle?”

“Right now,” He answered, his voice soft, “I’m looking at you, wondering how many more times we should cross paths before I finally begin paying attention.”

She moved away, feeling unsettled, afraid. She turned, and the guards were stood at the doorway as if nothing was happening at all. 

“Mr. Riddle, are you hungry?” She asked.

“Yes,” He answered, “But I don’t want hospital food.”

“I’m afraid thats all I can offer you,” She said, “I’ll let you get some rest.”

She left him like that. She didn’t check him again for the remainder of her shift, and then she left. 

She went home, and made good on her promise to Rose to read her a story in the morning. 

–

Rose was coloring at the table while the TV was on that morning. Hermione stayed awake despite the long night shift before to have more time with her daughter.

No matter how many channels she switched through they all had the same message. 

Voldemort escaped from Hogwarts Medical Centre at 8:22am. 

Police had yet to make a statement. 

No one knew where he was. 

“Mummy,” Rose called, looking up from her coloring book, “Can we bake muffins today?”

Hermione tried to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled deep in her gut. She smiled at her daughter, and thought of the nurse that had so gently handle her daughter over to her that first night. The man who wasn’t really a nurse at all. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Hermione said, and she smiled. 

She switched off the TV.

[bitchloveskcbaseball]

Captain and Coke

Pairing: Edward Mortemer x Peyton Bellamy

Summary: Peyton is struggling to cope with her new reality back in her own time.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry

Warnings: Language. My girl is angry and hurting and her filter is all but gone here.

Word Count: 1629

A/N #1: I am participating in @wackydrabbles prompt #52: Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don’t think it will help.

A/N #2: This is 100% a stand alone, one-shot fic. After the way the finale broke my heart last week (I’m not even going to get into the biggest reason I hated it right now) I couldn’t even think about working on my Tides of Fate series. But then I saw this prompt and a little seed of an idea popped into my head. I dismissed it almost immediately but it wouldn’t leave me alone, eventually morphing into something that resembled a plot. So I decided to sit down and try to write it out. Well, that little idea turned into this beast of a “drabble” and here we are. 

“Sweetheart, what are you doin' here? I told you I’d pick you up after my shift. I’m still gonna need to go home and change real fast anyway.”

“I know.”

Eric arched an eyebrow at Peyton as she slid onto her barstool, but she pointedly ignored it, knowing that answering his question honestly would probably end with him giving her some version of the same lecture he’d given her every day during the past three weeks.

“So, why are you here? I still have over an hour left.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she snipped, “You know why.”

“Peyton – “

“Save it, Eric. You've made your disappointment in me abundantly clear. So, you can save your breath and just pour me a drink instead.”

His scrutinizing glare morphed into something softer, a small frown knitting his brows together. “Sweetheart that isn’t true and you know it. I’m not disappointed… I'm worried.”

Peyton rolled her eyes before fixing a longing gaze on the racks of alcohol behind his back. “Whatever it is, you can keep it to yourself.” She knew she was being a bitch for no reason, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Even if it did mean she was risking her relationship with her best friend and the only person who had any idea of what she was going through.

Frustration was thick in his voice as he asked, “The usual, then?”

“Please.”

Eric sighed as he turned to make her drink and Peyton felt a twinge of guilt. She knew he was only trying to look out for her but she just couldn’t deal with it. She hadn’t been able to deal with anything since her return and he didn’t seem to understand. To his credit, though, he’d been a little more patient with her after seeing her exhibit at the museum and realized she hadn’t lost her damn mind.

Setting her Captain Morgan and Coke down in front of her, he raised an eyebrow and asked, “You gonna pace yourself tonight or should I start trying to find someone else to go to the concert with me?”

“Fuck you, asshole.”

Unfazed by her hostility, he simply said, “Considering how many nights I’ve had to drag your drunk ass home the last few weeks, I think it’s a fair question.”

More guilt flared in her chest, but she tamped it down ruthlessly. If she let herself feel that, everything else wouldn’t be far behind. “Whatever. You want to take someone else, be my fucking guest.”

“Damn it, Peyton. I can’t – “ Shaking his head, Eric stalked away towards the kitchen without finishing his thought. Not for the first the first time, she found herself wishing she’d been able to bring her sword with her to the future. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so quick to offer up his unwanted opinion.

Peyton was just finishing her second drink when Eric finally came back to check on her and rather than say all the things she knew she needed to say – not the least of which being an apology – she raised her glass in a silent request.

Eyeing the empty glass in front of her in addition to the one in her hand, Eric scoffed, “Seriously? You’ve been here less than half an hour.”

“So?”

“So…you've already downed two and are wanting a third.”

“And?”

Letting out a frustrated groan, Eric rolled his eyes before answering, with more calm than she had expected, “And I think you’re on a wild goose chase right now. Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don't think it will help.”

Her frustration finally getting the better of her, Peyton slammed her glass down on the bar, taking a small measure of satisfaction in the way Eric flinched, before she hissed, “Every fucking breath I take feels like it’s tearing me apart. Every moment I’m awake he’s all I can think about. And every moment I’m thinking of him, my heart shatters a little more. I can’t even fucking sleep, so there is no escape, no reprieve. There is only the slight numbness that comes at the end of the night when I’m so drunk I can’t stand. But even that hurts worse because the rum that got me drunk also reminds me of him. So, yeah, maybe I do want to get so drunk I pass out. If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears.” She dropped her head into her hands before begging hoarsely, “Please… please tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do.”

When Eric was silent for several long beats, Peyton lifted her head back up to find him practically frozen to his spot, staring at something behind her back. When waving her hand in front of his face didn’t capture his attention, she threw her wadded-up napkin at his head.

Snapping out of his stupor, he scrunched up his face and asked, “What was that for?”

“I thought maybe you’d short circuited or something.”

“No…I just… I think I figured out how to solve your problem.”

Arching an eyebrow, she didn’t even bother to hide her irritation or disbelief as she muttered, “Oh, did you now?”

The almost giddy smile on Eric’s face only served to piss Peyton off further, but the withering glare she shot him didn’t seem to phase him at all. “Well, sweetheart, it starts with you turning around.”

“For fuck’s sake, Eric. I’m not in the mood for your stupid – “ Peyton stiffened as arms wrapped around her from behind, but before she could deliver an elbow to the face of the offender, he was whispering in her ear, “I think the next step would be giving your captain a proper greeting.”

Recognition washed over her as her vision was instantly blurred by tears and she looked up at Eric, silently begging him to tell her this was real. That she wasn’t already so drunk that she was hallucinating. Again.

Eric’s smile was warm and reassuring as he told her, “He’s come a long way, Peyton. It would be terribly rude to ignore him.”

“Ed…Edward?”

“Aye. Tis I, Miss Bellamy.” The low, familiar growl had her letting out a loud shriek as she spun around on her barstool so fast that she would have fallen off of it had Edward not been there to steady her. “Easy, there.”

“You…this…this is real?” As soon as he nodded his head, she wrapped her arms around his neck as tightly as she could without suffocating him.

Pressing a kiss against her temple, Edward reminded her, “I promised you our one night together would not be how our story ended.”

“But – “

“Peyton, would you shut up and kiss the man, already?” Even with her back to him and all her focus on Edward, she could hear the smirk in Eric’s voice.

Taking advantage of her slightly stunned silence, Edward shifted until his lips brushed over hers and murmured, “Tis the best idea I’ve heard in quite some time.” Without giving her a chance to respond, he took her mouth in a searing kiss.

Desperate to have him as close as possible after having been separated for so long, Peyton wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened her arms around his neck until she was practically plastered against him. But still, the memory of how she’d been ripped from his arms while they slept kept her from losing herself in the kiss: she was terrified that he’d disappear if she closed her eyes.

As if he could sense where her thoughts were drifting, Edward broke away to rest his forehead against hers. She leaned into his touch as he trailed the fingertips of his left hand along her temple before sinking them into her hair while his right arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Eyes sparkling with happiness, he reassured, “Do not fret, Peyton. I’ll not be going anywhere.”

Excitement and fear rose in equal measure within Peyton. “How can you be so sure?”

“Tis a long story. One I promise to tell you later. But right now, I just need to hold you.”

Burying her face against the side of his neck, she couldn’t help but ask, “How long?”

“Tis no matter. We are together now.”

“I just – “

“Peyton.”

“Edward.”

He sighed before relenting, “A year and a half.”

“Oh, baby. I’m so – “

“I’d have waited a lifetime if it meant I’d have you in my arms again. Compared to that, this was naught but a blink of an eye.”

A wide grin pulling at her lips, Peyton pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye as she cupped his cheek in her hand, finally ready to admit how she’d felt since they had flown on the trapeze together. “I love you.”

The smile that lit up Edward’s face almost made her regret waiting so long to tell him. But as he tilted her face up to meet his lips again, echoing her words in a sweet whisper, she was hit by the sudden realization that this was how it had to be. He hadn’t been ready to hear it with his crusade against the admiral still hanging over his head. And then, when he was ready, the knowledge that she was about to be sucked back to the future had her biting her tongue again, thinking – wrongly – it would be easier to leave him if she never said it.

Despite it all, however, here he was, holding her as close as humanly possible. And that moment is when she finally started to believe what Edward had told her that night aboard Oliver’s ship. Fate had brought them together for a reason. Maybe, just maybe, that meant they could have their forever after all.

A/N #4: Ok...so I know I’m terrible. I have Edward showing up unexpectedly and give no explanation for that, and I’m sorry. I knew if I got into that I’d never make the 2000 word count plus I honestly didn’t think too much about that aspect of his appearance. I just really wanted these two to find each other and be happy again.

Tag List: @burnsoslow @mvalentine @rebel-alpaca @crazynutella @princess-geek @edgiestwinter @choices-addict​

[butterbuni]

♥ Chapter 8 ~ Recommendation Entrance Exam P3 ♥

Previous Chapter

After lunch, we were separated into groups of 10 and were led to different rooms by the number we finished. I waved goodbye to Momo and Inasa as they were led to their rooms with their group.

I walked with the rest of mine into a long hallway with chairs set up against the wall, 5 on each side. Everyone took seats as number 20 went into a room at the end of the hall. This is so nerve-wracking. I don't have any of my new friends here to keep me distracted. I looked around the hall. There were not many students. I looked directly across from me to see Endeavor's son leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed. He's probably sleeping. How could he sleep at such a moment?

When he wasn't being rude, he looked really nice. I couldn't help but admire his features, which makes no sense because I've seen Endeavor, and let me just say the apple fell very far from the tree. (Endeavor slander? Yes.). Even with that huge scar on his face he still manages to be so beautiful. I should probably apologize to him for calling him a lil bitch. I laughed to myself remembering my outburst at him earlier. Star would have given me a lecture for not being respectful.

"Number 21!" A teacher called out as a student left the room.

A student got up and went into the room. Only two more people until my turn. I looked down as I twiddled my thumbs. What kind of questions will they ask? Did I prepare enough? Kean said they change the questions each year, so he wasn't much help. I rolled my eyes remembering when I asked Kean to help me and he shot me down. I picked up my feet pulling it up to my chest wrapping my hands around it. I looked up again and Endeavor's son was still sleeping. I would have to wait till after the interviews to apologize. I rested my head in my knees shutting my eyes. Maybe sleeping won't be so bad.

                                              ________________

"Number 24!"

My head shot up from my knees to see Endeavor's son leaving the room. IT WAS MY TURN! I quickly got from my seat fixing myself up and walked to the door. I took a deep breath in and opened the door.

I walked in seeing Principal Nezu sitting at a rather large desk. He looked like a white mouse bear hybrid. Nonetheless, he was adorable I had to keep myself from smiling like a dork at his adorableness. I took a deep bow introducing myself. "Good afternoon Miss L/n. Please take a seat," he said calmly pointing his paws towards a set of seats in front of his desk. I took a seat at one of the seats saying good afternoon.

(For this part I will not be saying "blah blah," He said or she said. Only because it's too much for the amount of talking here. So instead, it will be in Nezu: and Y/N: format. No, they are not texting)

Nezu: Your full name is Y/N M/N L/N. Correct?

Y/N: Correct sir.

Nezu: Are you by chance Kean's younger sibling?

Y/N: Yes sir.

Nezu: No need to be so formal Miss Y/N. Your brother was an exceptional student here at U.A. When I received a letter asking for you to be put in recommendations by him, I couldn't say no. How is the hero Flame doing anyway? I see him on the news quite often.

Y/N: He's doing great actually he got a job as a sidekick to Endeavor a little over a year ago. Although he is busier than he was when he was in U.A but he still has time to train me.

Nezu: Good. Good. So, from the practical exam it looks like your quirk is controlling the elements do you mind explaining it to me.

Y/N: I can manipulate air, water, fire, and earth. So far, I've figured out I can control metal and lightning. I can produce air and fire from my body, but I cannot control the air or fire around me. However, I am immune to burns from my fire. I can't produce earth or water from my body, but I can control the different forms of water and earth around me. Metal bending is when I can sense the fragments can of earth in the metal allowing me to control it. I mostly use it for my shoes. Lighting bending comes from using the energy in me and focusing it outward using my fingertips to aim. Though it takes too much energy for even one strike, so I don't use it.

Nezu writes stuff down on a paper and looks back up at Y/N: And your weakness?

Y/N: Oh! Well, I can't bend pure metal and I can't control the lighting once it leaves my body. I also cannot control all the elements at the same time, I've tried. My biggest weakness is my energy use once I exceed my limit I pass out. However, Kean says if I keep training to the limit I would be able to last longer.

Nezu: Wow! You have such a powerful quirk Miss Y/N. Do you mind if I ask what your parent's quirks are? I understand Kean's quirk is flame and lighting.

Y/N: My mom's quirk is water manipulation, and I don't know what my father's quirk is. I never knew him. Mom just said he disappeared after I was born. I'm guessing his quirk had something to do with the elements. The pictures at home only show Mom and Kean's dad.

Nezu: Why do you want to become a hero Miss L/N

Y/N: Well, I want to create a world where things are fair for everyone. Villains are the ones that are in of the way of achieving of that.

Nezu: You know that, that is naive thinking right?

Y/N: I know i may be naive thinking doesn't mean it's impossible.

Nezu writes more stuff on a paper: So, Miss Y/N why do you want to go to our school?

Y/N: Well, I want to become a hero just like Kean. It's been my dream since I was able to use my quirk. U.A is the best school where the best heroes graduated from. The question should be why I wouldn't want to come to U.A. The answer is no reason by the way.

Nezu laughs at my quip: Good to know. Well, it's been wonderful getting to know you. In about a week you will receive a letter with our decision.

Y/N: It was great getting to know you to Principal Nezu. I'll take my leave now.

Nezu: Please have the man outside call Number 25.

Y/N: Yes sir.

I walked out of the room as the man outside called for number 25. I looked around the hall looking for Endeavor's son to apologize. I sighed. He wasn't there. There goes my chance of redemption. I do hope he doesn't tell Endeavor. Kean will seriously be pissed if I cost him his job.

I walked out of the building looking around. Maybe Momo or Inasa are done with their interview and we could walk home together and exchange numbers. I looked around the front and none of them were there. I looked over at the gate and saw a familiar galaxy haired friend waiting for me.

"STARRRRRR!" I yelled running to him.

He looked up at me his face had a few bandages. He must've gotten hurt during his practical exam. He smiled in my direction waving at me.

"What happened to your face?" I asked as I approached him. "Just a few burns here and there. The bots they used were the size of a full-grown human being and they were fast for big chunks of metal. Do you think you could heal me up when we get to your place? I don't want to ruin my perfect skin," He said as we walked out of the gates.  "I don't know, can I?" I laughed. "Sure, I can heal you up when we get to my house. So how was your practical? Did you only fight bots?" "Yeah, it was just bots. They put a whole bunch of us, maybe 30 or 40, into a look-alike town to fight them. It was timed too. I saw some pretty cool quirks there. One kid sprouted tape from his elbows to destroy the bots.  Another kid was literally surrounded by electricity. It was pretty cool till I acted like you and went close to him while he was emitting electricity. I didn't even get that close till I fell the volts hit my face," he said placing his face in his hand and then winced, "Overall it was pretty easy. I think I racked at least 40 points. And the written exam WAS SO EASY. I'd be surprised if I didn't pass. So, how was your test?"

"Well.......," I scratched my head.  "I panicked just before the written exam. I met a girl, a super smart girl, who helped me prepare for the test. She has a similar quirk to yours actually. Her's is called Creation. The test itself was pretty hard but I think I did okay. I met Endeavor's son but I made a horrible first impression. He had this huge scar on his left eye and I just stared at it with no regard for his feelings. It's not like his attitude was any good but I'm not there yet. I also met Recovery Girl right before the practical. She was nice. The practical was way mor- oh look we're here. I can tell you more over dinner."

I opened the door, and it was very quiet. I sighed Kean and Mom must not be home. It's okay I have Star here with me. "Wash your hands looks like I'm making dinner," I said rolling up my sleeves.

[kiwilana]

TouyaMight

sdkfjhsdkf listen don’t judge mE

this is a thread ive been writing on twitter since november,,,,, 

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

     Pissing off his father always gave Touya the greatest thrill. To know he was the one to put the angry scowl on his face and the furrow between his brows, well, it brought him a sense of sadistic joy.

What? He deserved to give his old man shit considering all the fucked up shit he had to go through

So whenever an opportunity came up to fuck with the number 2, Touya took it. 

Painting over the billboards that had his dad’s face? Kids play. 

Ruining his costumes with bleach in very strategic areas? Amateur hour. 

Bulk ordering All Might Merch to his agency? Done and done.

So when Touya joined his father and siblings at the most recent Hero’s Gala and saw the number 1 hero was also in attendance well…. He couldn’t just /miss/ a perfect opportunity like this! It would practically be a crime!

Fuyumi of course knew him all too well, he could see her bee lining to him, and he just /smiled/ and gave her a jaunty little wave, ignoring her calling his name as he sidled up to where the number 1 hero was conversing with others.

Touya could practically feel the heat of his father’s stare as slides in close to the blonde, one scarred hand delicately placed on a deliciously muscular arm. 

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve met before this, the name’s Touya Todoroki, it’s a pleasure to meet you All Might.” Touya flashes him his best smile, a soft curl of his lips and a fluttering of his eyelashes. 

He knows he’s a sight, white hair styled back, slinky black dress with high slits, heels, and of course the multitude of burn scars covering a majority of his body. 

Endeavor had nearly blown a gasket when he showed up like this, it was only the fact they were in public that kept him from scolding Touya. 

“Young Todoroki! It is a pleasure to meet you! It’s certainly unfortunate we haven’t been able to meet before now, I do not often attend these sorts of functions!” All Might’s smile was wide and bright and Touya kinda wished he had a pair of sunglasses damn those pearly whites were shining in his eyes. 

“It /is/ a shame huh? We could always meet up afterwards, I know a few restaurants.” The temperature in the room rose by several degrees and Touya could hear his sisters groan and Natuo’s muffled snort. 

The conversations around them had fallen into startled silence at the fact the son of Endeavor, All Might’s biggest rival, had just asked the number 1 hero out. 

All Might could only stare at Touya in shock, the offer of a date was unexpected and the hero couldn’t fight the flush that burned the tips of his ears, “I appreciate the offer young Todoroki but unfortunately I will have to decline.”

Before the white haired man could reply Endeavor is there, large hand wrapped around the slim arm and pulling him away, face positively thunderous. 

“Maybe next time All Might!” 

Touya laughed even as Endeavor dragged him out of the event.

Mission accomplished.

--------

The argument Touya and Enji got into once they reached home almost made the spectacle not worth it. Especially when the argument got heated enough and accusations thrown around that Touya’s tenuous control on his quirk slipped. 

The dark burn across his arms didn’t even hurt, not really, and that was the bad part. It meant that he’d burned straight past a 2nd degree burn to 3rd and he was going to be stuck in the hospital /again/. 

He hated being stuck in the hospital, he practically lived at the goddamn place. The whole staff knew him since he'd been coming there since he was young, how fucked up is that. 

 The pitying looks as they gave while they looked over his burns and decided whether or not he’d need another skin graft were so fucking annoying. 

He hated all of it. 

If he snarked more at the staff then necessary it wasn’t his fault really. The place was boring and stressful and he hated being stuck here. 

There were never that many other patients for him to talk to, the hospital was a private one for top heroes and their families, so Touya rarely saw other people. Most of his day was spent chatting with doctors and nurses and bitching about the extra meal replacement drinks he had to take. 

So when he noticed the frail looking blond man, he couldn’t help but be interested. The man was sitting outside in a hospital gown, and Touya took a seat next to him. 

“Damn, what’d happened to you?”

At least the guy didn’t look offended, a win in Touya’s books honestly. 

No, the guy snorted a laugh and gave Touya a surprisingly soft smile that made the gauntness of his face soften and Touya couldn’t help the thought that he wasn’t bad looking when he smiled. 

“A fight with a villain unfortunately. He got a lucky shot in and damaged me pretty bad.”

“Damn that’s gotta fucking suck. Especially since you’re stuck in this boring as hell place now.”

That earned him another smile. 

“Oh I don’t think it’ll be that bad, after all you’re here no? The man who asked out All Might is quite interesting I think.”

“Damn, so you saw me get rejected! Well, then you already know me, what’s your name? Since it seems like we both might be stuck here a while.” “I am Yagi Toshinori, it’s a pleasure to meet you properly Touya.”

-----

The next time Touya meets Yagi several days have passed by. He finds the older man slumped over in one of the comfier chairs, IV line in his arms and he looks absolutely /miserable/. 

Touya can’t help but feel bad for the poor guy, he looks worse than usual, his tanned skin unhealthily pale and breathing laboured. 

So he settles in next to Yagi, arms and legs thrown over the arm rests of his chair. 

“Damn, you’re lookin’ worse today Yagi-san, what happened?”

The tall man blinks at his new companion, a small smile stretching across his face. 

“Ah, we’re trying a new treatment today and well… it’s a bit taxing. I’m afraid I won’t be very good company today Todoroki-san.”

“Ah man, don’t call me that, makes me feel like my brothers or dad. Call me Touya.”

“Touya-san then.”

Touya fixes his eyes on bright blue ones and grins, he thought it would’ve been more of a struggle to get the blond to call him by name. 

“Well, since you’re feeling bad, how about a story? Natsu and the nurses used to read me some when I was stuck in bed.”

He doesn’t even really wait for a response before starting.

“So you like, remember how I told you I asked out all might yah? Lemme tell you about it. So like, there’s this party, and dad wants us all to go because the public has been asking about his family and all that. And so I came to the party, dressed amazingly right. Like I got this bOMB ass dress. Dad nearly blew a gasket when I came in it."

Touya wiggles his fingers and arms, making motions as he tells his version of the events. The growing smile on Yagi’s face just made him be more dramatic with his storytelling and movements. 

-----

"And there he is. There's All Might. The big kahuna himself. And my little brain gerbils start moving. And I get the idea. ‘How else should i make dad mad today?’ And that’s when it comes to me. ASK OUT ALL MIGHT."

“Wait was this before or after you kicked the guy who whistled at you?”

“After- so anyWAYS-”

-----

"And then the car explodes."

"What????!"

"Okay not really. Figuratively. Dad burned the roof again."

"Okay so maybe a little literally? I dunno english is hard."

"Touya were speaking japanese"

"Fuck"

-----

By the end of the story they’re both laughing and Touya feels light and happy as Yagi chortles at the selfie he managed to take while being dragged out of the party.

It was nice to see Yagi smiling again instead of hunched in on himself in pain and discomfort. 

“Thank you Touya-san, your story really did help. You’re quite the story teller. I’d love to hear more of them from you.”

“Sure! I always love having a captive audience, it’s the drama queen in me. “

-----

Yagi is the one to find Touya next time. 

He finds the younger man pressed in a dark corner under a staircase of all places. 

He wouldn’t have even noticed him if he hadn’t heard the soft sound of sniffling, and his heroic heart couldn’t just leave someone that’s so obviously in distress alone. 

It's a bit uncomfortable to climb under the staircase to settle next to Touya, listening quietly to his sniffles. It makes his heart squeeze a little and Yagi has to fight the urge to give the younger man a hug. 

Touya eventually notices him, big turquoise eyes meeting his own blue ones, there's tears clinging to the corners of his eyes. 

“Do you want me to call your nurse Touya-san?”

Touya shakes his head, lips pursing together before he drops his head down onto his arms.

“No. ‘S okay. ‘S nothing they can do. ‘M not allowed any more pain meds until tomorrow.”

The confusion on Yagi’s face has the unscarred parts of Touya’s cheeks flushing. 

“I.. had some issues with getting a/ddicted a few years ago. They’ve kept a tighter control on my medications since then. ‘S kay tho. The pain’s not too bad.. I’ll get over it soon.”

“Then.. how about I tell you a story? Let’s see… there was this time when I was in America…”

By the time Yagi reaches the end of his crazy tale Touya’s smiling and laughing, pain forgotten for the moment. 

“Honestly Yagi-san! How do you accidentally steal a penguin!”

“Ah well! That’s a mystery not even I know! And I was there!”

The tears on Touya’s cheeks were from laughter this time, and Yagi smiled so softly, a big hand reaching up to gently brush them away from Touya’s cheek.

And Touya /leans/ into his hand, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed into the warm and calloused palm. 

Yagi can feel his heart race faster and his ears burn red at the serene face. 

“Thank you Yagi-san… will you tell me another one…? It’s.. it’s a good distraction from the pain.”

“Of course Touya-san.”

The two of them spend hours like that, sitting under the dark staircase, Touya eventually leaning against Yagi’s bony shoulder, eyes shut as he listens to the deep voice rumble out tales of his times in America. 

It’s how their nurses find them.

They’re practically frantic with worry considering the two have been missing for hours. 

They get scolded thoroughly and before they separate Touya wraps one hand around one of Yagi’s own and gives him another one of those smiles that makes the blond’s heart race. 

“Let’s have lunch tomorrow Yagi-san.”

“I would love that Touya.”

-----

It becomes a new part of their routine, meeting up together to have lunch. 

The both of them were on pretty similar dietary plans, both meals were full of high calorie foods. Yagi explained it was to keep his weight up as he adjusted to the loss of his stomach. While Touya told the blond that his quirk burned through his calories so fast that if he didn’t constantly eat he’d easily end up malnourished. 

They end up closer as the days turn into weeks. It wasn’t uncommon to find them together, sitting and chatting, even occasionally finding them leaning against each other, the fatigue taking hold as they napped against each other. 

You could say the nurses had a field day with that one and took quite a few pictures. And if Touya and Yagi might’ve asked for their own copies well.. That was their business. 

If Yagi had a picture of them tucked into his wallet no one needed to know. 

And if Touya had his tucked into his desk drawer, that was for him to know. 

Occasionally visitors would come for Yagi, a small old man, a rather plain looking man and occasionally a man he recognized as All Might’s sidekick, Sir Nighteye. Those days he wouldn’t see much of Yagi, his lunches were spent alone in his room craving the presence of the other man. 

Yagi asked him about it, the day after he received Sir Nighteye as a guest again, and asked him why his family never seemed to visit him. 

Explaining to Yagi that his father didn’t let his siblings come visit was… awkward. The frown that crossed the normally jovial blond’s face at his explanation made Touya feel…. Ashamed? Awkward? 

He wasn’t quite sure honestly, but his cheeks burned and he rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to look into those piercing eyes. 

So he didn’t notice when Yagi moved closer to him. 

Not until those bony arms were wrapping around him, pulling him into a gentle hug, his bony chin resting atop the fluffy white mess that was Touya’s hair. 

And Touya just /melted/. He slumped into those arms, cheek rubbing against Yagi’s shirt as he clung to the older man. He could feel the pressure building up in the back of his throat and had to blink back tears. 

How long has it been since someone’s held him? 

“It’s alright Touya. I’m here.”

The soft voice and warm hands resting on his back, it was enough, and Touya shook in those deceptively strong arms, soft sobs leaving him as his tears soaked into Yagi’s shirt. 

They spent hours like that, Touya curled in Yagi’s arms, the blond never letting him go, even when his tears ran dry. 

It was so warm.

Touya never wanted to leave his arms. 

-----

Then the day came for Touya to be discharged. 

He’d stayed in the hospital for over a month now. The skin grafts on his arms had attached properly and had healed enough that he could go home. Fuyumi told Touya that she’d be the one coming to pick him up, Dad was going to be at work and unavailable. 

She told him she’d be there after school let out. 

Touya felt something sink in his chest as the nurses removed his bandages for the last time. His arms were… hard to look at and he avoided it as he slipped on the loose long sleeved shirt. Touya packed away the few clothes he had, fingers pausing over the picture of him and Yagi sleeping against each other. 

His chest squeezed tight at the thought of leaving. He didn’t want to leave the blond man. Ever since that breakdown in his arms Yagi had been so kind, the blond man was always touching him, lingering touches on his hands and shoulders, bringing him into hugs more often. 

Touya didn’t want to lose that. 

He… didn’t want to lose what connection he had with Yagi.

He didn’t want the blond to forget him.

He….

He liked him. 

Touya had to find Yagi before he left. 

-----

It wasn’t hard to find him. 

When Yagi wasn’t in his room or with his nurses and doctors, it's a safe bet to say he’d be outside relaxing, and he was. Seeing him sitting there made Touya’s stomach flutter and fuck he felt /nervous/.

The smile Yagi gave him when Touya stepped towards him made his heart beat faster, he could feel his palms getting clammy with sweat. Fuck.Touya had never felt like this before. It was.. Overwhelming. 

“Touya! It’s good to see you!”

How could one man be so adorable?

“Yagi… you’re.. You’re looking good today.”

Touya could feel the nerves twisting up at his insides as he took the offered seat next to the blond, the hot cup of tea Yagi gently pressed into his hands helped ground him a little. He could do this. He didn’t know if there’d be another chance. 

“I’m being discharged today.”

Yagi’s smile shrunk and he sighed deeply, “So soon..? I’m going to miss seeing you. I’ve greatly enjoyed your company here Touya. It’s made my stay much more bearable.”

“Yagi. I…” 

Touya trailed off as those bright blue eyes stared into his own, and he couldn’t help himself. 

His scarred hands gently cupped sunken in cheeks and Touya leaned up, pressing his lips softly against the older man’s, just a soft press of their lips that made Touya’s stomach flip flop in joy and dread. 

“Yagi, I really like you.”

Yagi’s stunned silence filled the small courtyard, beautiful blue eyes wide with surprise as a bright flush grew across the tops of his cheeks. 

Touya thought he looked gorgeous. 

“I. Well, I ah, I’m flattered Touya but.. I am many years older than you. I’m older than your father.”

/That wasn’t a no./

“So what? I don’t care about that Yagi. You /know/ that. I like you. I really really like you. I want to spend more time with you Yagi. I want, I want to hold your hand, I want to kiss you again, I want to eventually take you out on dates. I. If you really don’t, feel like that. It’s /okay/. I just. Fuck-”

He was rambling, his eyes squeezed shut and hands gripping his pants. Touya couldn’t put into words all the things he wanted. He just.. Wanted Yagi.

Larger hands gently wrapped around his own and Touya blinked watery eyes up, and Yagi was much closer now, mouth quirked in a small smile that made the white haired man’s stomach flip pleasantly. 

“Touya. Is this.. Do you really want this?”

“/Yes/.”

And those lips were pressing to his again and the dread in his stomach disappeared as those big hands held him so gently, like he was something fragile and /precious/, and Touya clung to the taller man, pressing kiss after kiss to his mouth. 

By the time they stopped they were both flushed and panting, lips swollen and wide smiles on their faces. 

“Well then, I suppose you should call me Toshinori now.”

Touya laughed and kissed the man again. 

“Whatever you say Toshi.”

[marvelousstevetony]

Stay tonight?

Sooo... this is the first fic I’ve ever really finished and I just wanted to put it out there for anyone to find if they’re in need of some super soft boys in critical and sad times like right now...

English is not my first language and there’s probably a whole lot of mistakes, so I apologize about that.

But ok, here we go. 10k+ words of soft Stony: Steve is sick and can’t sleep and Tony kinda helps. Then they get called into action and Steve gets hurt. Suddenly both of them start feelings this they’ve never felt before.

*Light angst and fluff. Lots of fluff.

————————————

As Tony exhaustedly stumbled his way towards his room at 4:20 AM, he decided to make a pit stop in the communal kitchen, as he supposed he should at least eat something after spending the entire night and the majority of the day before in the lab, perfecting his suit for the millionth time. 

He stifled a yawn and harshly rubbed his eyes, but then his body turned stiff at the muted sound coming from the room he was about to enter. Tony was curious by nature, and even though the efficiency of his brain were nearing the 50%, he still felt the need to examine the source of the noise. Just before turning around the corner to the kitchen he wondered who the hell (apart from himself of course, this had been a part of his daily routine for a while now) would be up at this atrocious hour. 

Tony wouldn’t say he was startled — surprised but not startled — when the figure that was nearly collapsed over the kitchen table turned out to be the one and only Steve Rogers, his head buried in his palms. It wasn’t like it was the first time Tony had run into Steve in the middle of the night, however, this wasn’t under the usual circumstances. 

Normally, Steve would be up and ready, drinking a glass of water, wearing his running gear and be ready to get out the door for his daily 10-mile jog. (Which wasn’t really a jog. For anyone else, Steve’s pace was basically their maximum speed, but that’s the perks of having a super-soldier-serum injected into you.) Today, however, Steve didn’t seem particularly lively and spry, which Tony found odd. His back was hunched over, a complete 180 from his usual perfect posture. He was wearing an oversized sweater, by which Tony was impressed, it was normally quite the challenge finding clothes that fit Steve’s muscular build let alone finding something that was too big. He looked so small, Tony thought to himself, which seemed impossible for someone Steve’s size. A strange unfamiliar feeling spread inside Tony’s chest, it was warm and uncomfortable, he thought, and tried to shake the feeling off before finally entering the kitchen. 

Steve was still leaned over the table, so Tony reckoned he hadn’t acknowledged him just yet. Under normal circumstances, Tony would’ve been slightly offended that Steve wasn’t able to just sense his presence, but he let this one slide. He cleared his throat to gain Steve’s attention, which had an immediate effect.  Steve looked up, his eyes were bleary, and his hair was ruffled and messy, which Tony found strangely intriguing. He noticed how Steve’s face was abnormally pale, apart from his cheeks and the tip of his nose which were flushed slightly pink. He seemed rather confused, a bit disorientated perhaps, then squinted at Tony. 

“Oh, um… Tony?“ Steve croaked, voice was weak and fragile, then he coughed slightly.

“Morning Cap. I guess you’re already up for your daily suicide of a marathon,” Tony quipped, at which Steve huffed a laugh that launched at small coughing fit followed by a shaky wheeze. Tony narrowed his eyes, something was definitely off with Steve, Tony was sure of it. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly it was. 

Steve cleared his throat and blinked wearily. “Oh, actually I- snff- um, no… actually not.”

“Then why are you up at such an ungodly hour?” Tony raised an eyebrow, grabbed the nearest chair and sat backwards on it, still facing Steve.  Steve leaned forward, his elbows resting on the kitchen table and copied Tony, raising one eyebrow. “Why are you up, huh?”

Tony followed his movement and also leaned forward. “Nuh-uh, Cap, that won’t work. I asked you first, you answer first,” Tony demanded and made a gesture with his hands. “So go on.”

Steve rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don’t actually know,” he shrugged, “I guess I just cou- snff couldn’t fall asleep, snf.” Just as he finished talking, Tony noticed the other man shiver, which he found odd. The air in the kitchen was rather warm, 75 degrees, and just looking at Steve wearing the thick knitted sweater made Tony overheat. 

Tony’s thoughts returned back to what Steve has just said, but he was unsure how to continue the conversation so he just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. 

“Huh, you fantasizing about me, Cap? That would surely explain your restlessness,” Tony smirked. He had wanted to retract it just as he’d said it, even more when Steve’s cheeks flushed bright red and ducked his head with a sheepish grin. 

“Sorry to dis- heh, snff, disappoint you,” Steve said as he rubbed his nose with the back of his wrist, “ but, uh… I- huh,” he suddenly trailed off, mouth hanging slightly open, eyes squinting at Tony. He drew in a sharp breath, burying his face in the crook of his elbow, pressing into the soft fabric of the sweater. Tony was confused. Was Steve about to-

“hehh… hehShoo! ehhTISH’oo! SNFF”

Oh. Oh. Tony’s eyes widened. “B- bless you?” he stammered, sounding like a question. Steve looked blearily up at him, “Oh, umb, snff… Thanks, Tony,” he murmured.

Silence filled the room. Tony didn’t know how to react to what was in front of him. He’d never seen Steve so vulnerable, so defenseless, so… human. Nothing about the great Captain America usually seemed this way to Tony. Steve was always so guarded and stiff, which usually made it very easy, almost too easy, for Tony to piss him off. 

But Steve was also so much else, Tony had to admit. He always had everything under control, much to Tony’s annoyance. Whenever he deliberately tried to infuriate Steve, he’d keep collected and act unfazed (however, sometimes when his composure breaks a tiny bit, Tony would notice, and seeing the irritated expression on Steve’s face would make his entire day). Steve was fearless and strong, nothing could ever keep him away from a situation pointed south. Tony had heard all about Steve as a child. Howard used to praise Steve all the damn time, and Tony hated him for it. No matter how hard he tried to make his father proud, he would never be as good as Captain America himself. Maybe that was why Tony had always felt a weird kind of resentment towards the good man. Captain America was simply flawless, so he was told

In this moment, however, as Steve was sitting there, looking so small and, to some extend, pathetic, Tony felt puzzled. This was an different Steve, a softer, more human Steve. Maybe he didn’t actually know Steve as well as he thought he did.

Some time had passed since the last words between the two had been said. The silence was only interrupted by frequent sniffles and small coughs until Steve spoke up.

“So you didn’t tell me why you’re still up.”

“Oh, y’know, just the usual. Well, really, I was in the workshop, fixing some upgrades and stuff. I was actually on my way to bed before I stumbled upon your pity-party in here,” Tony smirked. “I might also be trying to figure out a way to stop you and Thor from breaking all the punching bags and the rest of the gym equipment. Not because it’s expensive, it’s just a little inconvenient sometimes.”

Steve smiled drowsily at that. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it,” Tony waved a hand. “I just didn’t really fancy going to bed. Sleeping is overrated. A total waste of time.” 

Steve’s expression suddenly grew into a melancholic frown, his eyes lowered and his lips curled into a smile that Tony thought looked more sad as opposed to happy. He felt a faint pain in his chest, one he rarely felt, but something told him it was a little thing called compassion. Ugh, since when had that been a thing?

“Yeah, I guess so… snff I’m not the biggest fan of sleeping either. Mbaybe, snff , maybe that’s why I can’t seem to doze off,” Steve admitted and shrugged. 

Tony caught himself studying the face of the other man. Steve was way older than Tony, he’d been through more shit than one could imagine, but sitting there, body crumpled up and face flushed, Steve looked so young. His long, dark eyelashes glistened in the weak kitchen lights and Tony wondered if maybe Steve had been crying. The peculiar tug at his heart returned, and Tony swallowed thickly as he felt the urge to go over to Steve and wrap him into his arms. Steve looked like someone who desperately needed a hug. But Tony refrained form doing so. It would inappropriate. Why would Steve want a hug from him anyway. 

“Then I guess there’s actually one thing we have in common… Apart from wanting to ban Clint from choosing movies for movie-night,” Tony tried to lighten the mood, but Steve didn’t really react, just a small huff. The silence was deafening and Tony hated it. Tension filled the room and he knew it emanated from when he mentioned his issues with sleeping. He pondered for a few moments and then looked at Steve who was still looking like a sad puppy, and somehow his heart just couldn’t bear seeing Captain America this wrecked, both psychically and mentally. He had to do something about this.

“Hey Cap, I-,” Tony sighed before he continued, “Look, I know I might be the last person you want to talk to about this… about anything, probably, but I just want you to know that you can talk to me. I’m not known to be the best listener. I’m egoistic, or so I’ve been told, but I’ll try my best.” 

His heartbeat skyrocketed and he was afraid Steve would hear the thunderous pounding. When Steve didn’t answer, Tony was slightly disappointed but he didn’t blame him. It was a sensitive subject, one you talk to your friends about. 

“That’s not true, Tony,” Steve’s words were almost a whisper. “You’re not the last person I’d want to talk to… not at all, actually. I just…” Sigh. “I just can’t. Snff! You know, talk about it.” 

Steve voice cracked at the last part of the sentence. He sounded so… broken. 

“I didn’t think the word can’t was in your vocabulary,” Tony said and Steve smiled sadly at that. “And look, it’s hard. After Afghanistan I thought no one would ever be able to help or understand me. Turns out talking about that sort of stuff actually is helpful. Don’t tell Pepper, though, I’ll never stop hearing from it if she finds out I said that.” 

Steve sniffed and rubbed his nose with his knuckles, then swallowed as he took in a shaky breath. “I’m just so scared, Tony,” Steve sounded like he was within an ace of crying, his voice was so weak, almost inaudible. He burrowed his face in his palms and exhaled tremulously.

Tony frowned at what Steve had just said. What the hell was he scared of? Steve was the bravest man Tony had ever known, that was his thing. “Scared? Wait, no- Cap, you’re Captain America. That’s you, you hear me? You’re fearless. You’re basically the embodiment of a true Gryffindor,” Tony insisted. “Ugh, stupid Clint, we’ve watched too many Harry Potter movies lately,” he muttered under this breath.

Steve looked up form his hideout. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, it was a matter of seconds before they would start running down his cheeks. 

“That’s all I am,” Steve croaked. I wasn’t a question, more like a statement. “That’s all I ever will be. The fearless Captain America. I’m nothing more that.”

Tony’s heart sank at that. Oh god, what had he done. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, you’re right. I- I can’t be scared. I have to-“

“Hey, stop! Don’t. Even. Just… Calm down, okay? God, Steve, I’m sorry. You’re allowed to be scared. Hell, everyone gets scared sometimes… The thought just never crossed my mind. I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot,” Tony apologized and stood up, walking towards Steve, placed a hand on his shoulder and squatted down next to him, their eyes meeting each other. 

“So, you want to tell me what’s scaring you, hm?”

Steve wiped his face when a tear slowly escaped. 

“I’m just scared to go to sleep, Tony. Every time I close my eyes, all I hear is screams and explosions and then suddenly I can’t move. It’s like my body is tied, restricted… And I don’t know if it’s my subconscious telling me that I shouldn’t fall asleep because…” Steve took a moment to breathe. “Because I’m scared… of falling asleep. Or maybe more of waking up somewhere I don’t know or recognize… again,” Steve voice broke at the last word.  Tony realized he had been staring the entire time when Steve’s gaze shifted to him and his glassy eyes glared directly into Tony’s. 

“M’sorry… You shouldn’t have to listen to all my pathetic crap,” Steve broke the eye contact when the silence became slightly uncomfortable and shifted in his seat. 

No one dared to say anything or move for a while. They just sat there in the dimmed lights, Tony’s hand still placed delicately on Steve’s shoulder. All of a sudden, however, Tony felt the larger man’s body twitch followed by the sound of a catching breath and Steve muttering a hurried shit. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Steve bury his face in the crook of his elbow and turn away from him.

“Huh.. ehh! uh-huhTChushh! Oh God- snff! h’UHh… UhhIShiew!” Two strong sneezes escaped and launched him into a small coughing fit that left him breathless. 

“Ugh, snff! Excuse mbe,” he mumbled and wiped his nose in the cuff of the soft sweater. “Sorry, I’mb such a mbess.”

“Don’t worry about it. Can’t complain about the fact that you seem too worn out to outwit me,” Tony bantered and gained an eye-roll form Steve. “Bless you, by the way.”

Steve responded with a frail nod and an acknowledging hum. He rubbed at his face and Tony began to realize just how shattered Steve looked. Sure, he’d noticed the bleary eyes and the pinkish tint to his cheeks, but in this moment he saw small beads of perspiration on his forehead and the dark bags under his eyes.

His curiosity got the better of him and slowly he moved his hand from Steve’s shoulder and softly placed the back of his hand to his cheek. He immediately withdrew it, like had he stuck his hand into a flame and burned himself. 

“Geez, Cap, you’re burning up!” he gasped. 

“Oh, no- Don’t worry, Tony. I always run hot,” Steve said hastily. “S’not so bad… just a slight temperature, I think. Probably just cold though,”

Tony was surprised that Steve actually confessed to feeling off, but then again, Steve wouldn’t risk anyone else catching whatever he’d come down with just because he didn’t want to admit defeat. 

“I’m pretty certain that’s a fever, Spangles. I didn’t know you couldn’t get sick anymore… Y’know, with all the steroids they gave you,” Tony gestured to Steve’s muscular body.

“Huh?” Steve cocked his head and Tony figured he didn’t catch his joke.

“The injections, the serum,” he explained and Steve mouthed a silent oh.

Steve gave it a second thought, then shrugged. “Neither did I. Probably the lack of sleep that’s finally catching up with me.”

God, just how bad were Steve’s sleeping problems? The Steve he knew would never show this much vulnerability, especially not in Tony’s company. “Don’t you think it’s probably for the best if you actually try to rest?” Tony requested, crossing his arms. 

“You’re not one to speak, Stark.” Tony unwillingly had to agree with his statement and gave small shrug. 

A short quietness filled the room and, for once, it wasn’t awkward between the two of them. Their confessions seemed to have broken that barrier.  “Well, as your fellow insomniac, why don’t we go watch a movie or something. Like I said, ‘sleep is overrated,’” Tony gave a quick glance over his shoulder, referring to the living room. 

“Sure… why not,” Steve smiled tiredly and propped himself up from the chair. As he stood, his body wobbled, and he quickly leaned against the nearest wall to balance himself. Tony was there in a split second, stabilizing the bigger man. “God dammit, Cap. You’re totally out of it, aren’t you?” Tony worried.

Steve waved the brunette off. “M’ fine, Tony. Y’ don’t need to-“. Steve didn’t get to finish his sentence before dizziness overtook him once again and stumbled slightly. 

Tony grabbed Steve by the bicep, pressing his fingers into the muscle. Gosh, Tony thought. He knew Steve was 220 pounds of pure muscle, but damn. Touching Steve’s upper arm was like hitting a brick. Tony was sure that if there ever would be a live-action Hercules movie, Steve would get the role in a heartbeat. Everything seemed to add up: his incredibly muscular build; his piercing eyes, which were more blue than the clearest ocean; his golden hair, resembling a god perfectly; and lastly, his blinding smile and his plump lips, which Tony definitely didn’t want to kiss. Of course he didn’t, why would anyone think that? No, Steve’s lips were the last thing on earth Tony wanted to touch. The last thing. 

“Yeah you seem fine, Steve. This is exactly what ‘fine’ looks like,” Tony said rolling his eyes and slowly steered Steve towards the living room As soon as they reached the sofa, Tony nearly dropped the bigger man, who fell heavily into the soft fabric. 

Steve groaned and rubbed his temples. “So sorry, Tony. You- snff shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.”

“Good thing I’m such a patient and considerate guy then,” Tony smirked and sat down next to Steve, who was taking up about 90% of the space, his body sprawled all over the sofa. Steve realized this and began shuffling to make more room for the other man. 

“Ugh,” he groaned, “I’m so pathetic, it’s embarrassing.” Tony shrugged. “Stop worrying,” he said and Steve sent him a tired yet thankful smile. “I’ve seen you embarrass yourself on multiple occasions, Spangles, almost on the daily. This is no different,” he continued, at which Steve whimpered and rolled his eyes. 

“Thanks a lot, Stark. Just what I needed.” Tony chuckled and Steve pressed the heel of his hand into his eye, rubbing harshly. Tony felt a smile tugging at his lips, as if it wouldn’t go away even if he desperately tried to do so. 

“Yeah? Well, you’re welcome. I must say, however, I actually kinda like you this way,” Tony admitted and Steve looked quizzically at him, he brows furrowed. “You’re more… how do I say it without sounding like an asshole…”

“I think you passed that point, thanks a lot.” 

“I guess you’re right. In my defensive, my asshole-ness is my trademark. It makes me who I am. Pep always said it got me into a lot of trouble, though, and she wasn’t wrong, to be honest and- Wait, sorry, I’m just rambling now… I just meant to say you’re more… casual? Like you don’t have a stick up your butt.”

“Ouch,” Steve snorted. “You’re being awfully honest. Anything else about me you’d like to criticize?” 

“Oh, Rogers, you’re putting me on the spot. If you’d give me five minutes I could make you an entire presentation.”

Tony couldn’t help but notice the hint of hurt in Steve’s already watery eyes. Why on earth would he even say something like that? As if Steve didn’t feel bad enough being sad and lonely and sleep deprived and dammit Tony, the guy’s sick. Tony was slapping himself internally.  

“Fuck… I didn’t know why I said that. I’m sorry, Cap, I didn’t me-.”

“Don’t-“ Steve held a hand up and interrupted the brunette. “It’s okay. I know. Like you said, it’s your trademark. You can charm your way out of anything. You’re witty, funny. I’ve always admired that about you. Wish I had a bit more of that myself.”

Tony smirked and raised an eyebrow. He leaned back comfortably in the sofa, suddenly feeling a lot better.

“Don’t get too cocky now, Stark. You’re still a smartass and it still pisses me off sometimes.”

They both laughed at that and the joy from the laughter was still hanging in the air even after the silence had settled. 

“I enjoy pissing all of you off, though. I feel like it’s becoming part of the job.”

The chuckled continued, warm and genuine, but suddenly launched Steve into a coughing fit. Tony watched concernedly and placed a comforting hand on Steve’s knee when he was left wheezing and gasping for air. Suddenly, he noticed at familiar sensation: Steve’s eyelashes fluttered and his eyes narrowed. His nose was twisting, rubbing his nostrils gently with his knuckles. He drew in a few shaky breaths, the next one more desperate than the one before, until he finally took a long and deep breath before giving in to the inevitable.

“huhh… uhhhUSChoo! uh.. huuUCHshh! Oh,” Steve sighed after two strong sneezes, which he caught in the crook of his elbow. His body had tensed without he had even noticed it and eventually, when he was sure he’s done, he fell back into the comfortable sofa.

“For Gods’ sake, Rogers. You just don’t anything by halves, do you? You sound terrible.”

Steve hummed grumpily in reply, then shivered, his entire body shaking.

“You cold? I can get blankets,” Tony offered.

“Oh- no, that’s okay. Thanks, though,” Steve smiled sincerely and Tony nodded back at him. Steve’s eyes slowly fluttered shut, but Tony could sense how the soldier was trying to resist the urge to close his eyes and his himself slip out of consciousness. Tony smiled sympathetically at Steve, his cheeks flushed, his nose bright red, hair ruffled and looking the messiest Tony’d ever seen and his lips a perfect shade of pink. 

Then Steve frowned and forced his eyes open, the frustration clear on his face. Tony felt a tug at his heart.

“C’mon, Rogers,” Tony started. “You’re sick, you need to let yourself rest. Please.”

“Tony, I- You know I can’t,” Steve said weekly, his voice so fragile. “I just can’t.”

Tony moved closer, his hand grabbing Steve’s shoulder firmly. “Listen to me, Steve. I know it can be scary, feeling like you’re loosing control, but let me tell you this. Right now, your fear is controlling you. And look what it’s done to you already, you look like you’re on your deathbed- Sorry, right, not helping. Anyways, you simply can’t keep doing this to yourself, or to the team really.”

Tony knew he was being a sneaky, manipulative little shit for dragging the team into the situation, they were Steve’s soft spot, but he forgave himself, it was in Steve’s best interest.

“I really hate it when you’re right, Stark,” Steve growled annoyedly. “Luckily, that’s a rare occasion.”

Tony smirked. “Did I just hear the Steve Rogers admit that I’m right? God, you’re definitely sick, I think we need to call Bruce.” They both laughed. 

“Go to sleep, Steve. I’ll be right here if you need me. I promise.”

“Thanks, Tony… Really. Thank you.”

Steve’s voice was so soft and sincere, Tony couldn’t help but get butterflies in his stomach. When Steve’s eyelids got heavier and heavier, and at last shut entirely, Tony just had to run his fingers through the soft, blonde hair. After a few minutes of just watching and appreciating the sight in front of him, everything got darker and within a minute or two, Tony was laying halfway on top of Steve, both of them fast asleep in each other’s arms. 

————————————

Tony was awoken by a loud alarm, his body jerking up into a half-sitting, half-lying position. He blinked rapidly, trying to gain focus after coming back to consciousness. He figured Steve was doing the same, as he also was looking confusedly around, seeming completely disorientated. 

“Shit,” Tony muttered under his breath as the realized the loud noice was the Avengers emergency-alarm. “JARVIS, what’s happening? What’s the time even?”

“The time is 7.18 AM, Sir. I’m sorry to disturb you and Captain Rogers, but it seems an emergency has occurred. Your assistance is needed,” The AI announced. 

Tony groaned and rubbed his temples, then quickly stood up and walked determined out of the room to get into the suit. Just as he reached the doorway he called over his shoulder, “Gear up, Cap, we’ve got a city to save.”  Tony has seemingly forgotten all about the reason why they were both lying on the common room sofa, completely tangled up into each other. Steve whimpered and gave a shaky sigh followed by a harsh cough and a weak wheeze. He squeezed his eyes shut, then stood up, perhaps a bit too fast, as he stumbled and had to grab the sofa to keep himself from falling. He sighed once more, a deep breath, before exiting the room just like Tony had done 30 seconds earlier. 

————————————

“Guys, I need back up on 23rd,” Natasha called through the comms. She was still panting from beating up seven wolf-like aliens all on her own, only to see a stream of more than 20 new ones approaching. 

“On my way,” Steve responded, dodging multiple hits while running hastily down the street. When he escaped a larger group of attackers, he got a view of the city. Broken glass was covering the ground, the sunlight reflecting every once in a while, when he skimmed through a thick cloud of smoke. Fires were spread out everywhere, in the buildings, in the parks, on the pavements, some of them were small, others were tall flames leaving no hope for saving the matter. 

Steve heard nothing but white noise, a long screaming sound ringing in his ears, but he could see the tears when passing pedestrians, sense them sobbing and feel their fear — there was no need for any sound. Steve could hear them loud and clear. Shouting, whimpering, crying… He felt an ache in his chest, a thump, and he swallowed thickly, quickening his pace. 

He tried to only look forward. If he stopped running now, he wouldn’t reach Natasha in time, so he accelerated once more, frowning in tension. One, two, one, two, he counted inside his head, hoping to keep his mind off of the disastrous state of his surroundings. But fuck. Why was breathing so damn hard? Normally, Steve could run for hours without being short of breath or even breaking sweat. 

Now, however? He was wheezing, continuing to swallow the urge to cough and press his tongue to the roof of his mouth to control the itch that was building in his right nostril. He felt the congestion in his entire face, how he almost couldn’t breathe through his nose, how his eyes felt droopy and dry, how the area around his nose was slightly swollen. 

He just couldn’t focus. All he wanted was to be at home, at cup of tea in his hand and lying in his bed — maybe even sleep. Apparently sleeping wasn’t impossible when Tony was right there next to himself, giving off a warmth Steve hadn’t felt since before the ice. Closing his eyes, knowing he wasn’t alone, knowing Tony knew what was going on when he closed his eyes was so comforting. Steve hadn’t opened up to someone like that since Bucky had… since Bucky. 

Steve was well aware that he and Tony were very different, polar opposites some would say, but their conversation that morning had given Steve some kind of hope that they could set their differences aside and be friends. Maybe even more than friends if… No, Steve thought. No. Tony deserves better. 

“How far, Cap? I don’t know how much longer I can keep them off,” Natasha interrupted Steve’s inner monologue, her usual calm and cool voice seeming affected by concern. 

“I’ll be right there, Nat. I’m only- Ugh!” 

Through his peripheral vision, Steve noticed something blocking the light, a large shadow covering him. He instinctively turned his head to identify the objects, his eyes enlarging as a car was less than 3 metres away from him. The car sped up, driving Steve into a corner. Reactively, Steve threw himself back, regrettably smashing his head into the wall to avoid getting hit by the car, then fell to the ground with a hard landing. He heard a loud crack and winced at the pain coming from his ribs. Before he had anytime to compose himself, another large object was thrown at him from the car. Grabbing the shield, trying to cover himself, he rolled and dodged the object by a few feet.  An explosion, powerful despite its humble size, sent splinters in every direction. The majority of Steve’s body had been covers by the shield, but he felt small shards prickling his legs through the holes in his suit like a needle. He cursed under his breath and slowly got up from the ground. Looking around, he heard nothing but his own wheezing breath, until the silence was broken by a loud bang. 

Steve looked around once more, searching for the source of the sound. Everything suddenly seemed to happen in slow-motion and a few seconds later, Steve felt a throb in his stomach and fell to his knees once again. He grabbed his waist and leaned against the wall. His breathing was fast, hitching, as he let out a painful grunt. 

“Cap? Cap, you there? Steve!”

Silence.

“Rogers! Answer us!” someone snapped though the comms. 

Steve drew in a shaky breath. “I’m-,” his voice broke, so he cleared his throat, “‘M o-okay. I, uh…”

He trailed off as he looked down and saw a red liquid oozing out from the wound, leaking through his fingers. He grabbed harder as another stab of pain ran through his body. He sat up against the wall, his vision became blurry. He was now panting, grunting in agony.

“Guys, Cap’s down. Send the med-team immediately. Now!”

Steve was sweating, beads peeping down his forehead, his hair wet and dark at the roots. He suddenly felt tired, his body numb apart from the ache in his abdomen. 

He had completely lost all sense of time, he had no idea how long had passed when he felt something snatch his shoulder. His narrowed his eyes, clearing his slurred sight. focussing. When he looked up, he was met by a pair of warm, brown eyes that were filled his worry and, to some degree, anger.

“T’ny?” Steve mumbled.

“In the flesh, Cap.”

“S’rry. I lost focus,” Steve apologized. 

Tony sighed and huffed a laugh. 

“Well, yeah, no shit… Geez, you’re burning up, we need to get you out of this,” Tony hissed as he touched Steve’s forehead with the back of his hand, then continued to feel each cheek. 

Steve wiggled away a little, feeling a bit embarrassed. He let out a whimper and looked down at his wound, then clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the pain.

“Fuck, Cap, you’re hurt. We need to get you to the med-wing.”

Steve just shook his head, but before ehe could even open his mouth to protest, Tony spoke up.

“There’s no discussion here, Steve. You’re hurt — and sick — you need medical attention, right now,” Tony said sternly. 

Steve wanted to object so badly, but he was too tired to response with anything else but a sigh and an irritated hum. He just continued looking directly into the eyes of the armoured man: shiny and comfortable and beautiful. All the noise and clatter around them seemed to fade out. Tony’s mouth was moving, yet it was inaudible to Steve. He felt how Tony’s grip got tighter, and Steve cracked a smile at how their bodies were so close, so connected. As his eyelids became heavier and heavier he blinked wearily until he reluctantly gave in to the darkness. 

————————————

Tony didn’t remember how long he was sat there, staring out into space, his eyes becoming dry from not blinking. His fingers were drumming nervously on the workshop table, a quirk he’d had for as long as he could remember — he always had to do something with his hands. He’d noticed how Steve did the exact same thing when they were in debrief after a mission (he could always tell Steve was getting impatient, but of course Captain Perfect kept composed), or whenever he got nervous or uncomfortable, which was often, maybe too often, and mostly caused by Tony or Clint when they said something inappropriate. He’d also notice how he’d duck and shake his head and smile shyly, his neck and ears flushing slightly pink and Tony lived for making Steve act like this. 

God, get it together Stark, Tony thought to himself and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching he bridge of his nose. He couldn’t stop thinking about Steve and how mad — furious — he was at him for not being careful enough. Then Tony got mad at himself, as he remembered how unwell and weak Steve had been before they’d been alerted, and Tony facepalmed himself internally for forgetting and letting Steve go fighting when he obviously was in no state to do so. Steve probably would’ve ignored him and gone fighting anyway, but at least Tony would’ve been able to cross his arms and say I told you so. 

It had been about six hours since the battle had ended, seven since Steve was injured and laid unconsciously in Tony’s arms. As soon as the med-team had showed up and the rest of the Avengers has finished up beating the Hydra-agents (when would Hydra stop bugging then, for god’s sake, Tony wondered annoyedly) and aliens Tony had flown back to the Tower, ignoring Fury and Hill and everyone else telling him to do the horrible post-battle debrief or search-and-rescue, which was usually Steve’s job. Steve would never complain and he usually volunteered to take care of the aftermaths, which Tony found incredibly irritating and really admirable. 

It was obvious how the Captain felt a lash of guilt whenever people got hurt in battle. He wanted to make sure everyone was safe. How he swallowed thickly and looked away to hide teary eyes when the stats were reported on the news. How he’d go to the gym and spend hours destroying the punching bags in anger at how he couldn’t save every single human on the planet. 

Steve spent so much time looking after others that he forgot to take care of himself and now he had been shot, broken multiple ribs, suffer a severe concussion and probably a lot of other smaller injuries Tony couldn’t recall. But the fact was that Steve was so unbelievably stupid and thick-headed. And sweet and caring and basically everything Tony wished to be. Tony groaned loudly and threw his head back, at which the bots reacted, startling their creator. 

“Fuck off,” Tony growled and Dum-E and U. 

He ran a hand through his greasy hair and sighed. When had Steve slipped his way into Tony’s mind like this? This wasn’t like Tony - Tony didn’t think of people like this! Ugh, fucking stupid, adorable, perfect Steve Rogers had infiltrated a literal genius’ mind, and Tony absolutely hated having to admit to it. 

After a few minutes of Tony staring directly into the ceiling while continuously giving himself shit for thinking of one well-known super-soldier, his inner dialogue was disturbed by JARVIS.

“Agent Romanoff is requesting access, Sir,” the AI announced.

“Access denied,” Tony grumbled crossly.

Much to his annoyance, he heard the sound of the door opening and a pair of heels stamping towards him. The redhead stopped a few feet in front of him and crossed her arms, accusingly raising one eyebrow.

“Traitor,” Tony muttered under his breath. “I thought I said access denied,” Tony repeated his precious statement.

“I apologize, Sir. Agent Romanoff has overridden your security code. I’m designed to allow all Avengers access if the code is overruled,” JARVIS explained.

“How did she- ugh, doesn’t matter… Who the hell designed you to allow that?” Tony exclaimed confusedly. 

“You did, Sir.”

“For fucks sake,” Tony complained, then sighed and eyed Natasha. “Why are you here?”

That came out harder than he had expected it to, but Tony was feeling too petty to do anything about it and just left it at that. 

She snorted. “Hello to you too, Stark.”

Tony didn’t reply, just frowned. Natasha sighed and her expression softened. Grabbing the nearest the nearest chair, she sat down and crossed her legs. “You okay?” she asked. Tony shrugged.

“No one blames you, Tony. You couldn’t have prevented it,” she said reassuringly. 

“Sorta seems like I could,” he mumbled and sighed. “How is he?”

Natasha tensed and rubbed her thighs uneasily.

“He’s… he’s okay, mostly. He looks horrible, though. Med-team put him on bed rest, which he wasn’t too pleased with.”

Tony huffed a laugh and scratched the back of his neck. 

“I would imagine… He’s probably the worst sick person ever. And now he’s injured too, which is just the icing on the cake, isn’t it?” 

Natasha laughed quietly. “Yeah… he seems miserable, to be honest. He just keep sniffling and sneezing. I’ve never seen him like this, Sam hasn’t either. He looks like he’s about too pass out from exhaustion. But he won’t sleep.” Her tone tuned more serious towards the end of the sentence. 

Tony swallowed thickly. Of course Steve wouldn’t even try to go to sleep. Tony didn’t care if Steve’s ramble last night was out of pure fatigue and delusion or if he genuinely trusted Tony. Tony hoped for the latter but wasn’t convinced. 

Steve had been pretty hazy and probably hadn’t meant for anyone to hear all that. Tony felt guilty for being happy Steve had shared his feelings, but for once, Tony believed the two of them could actually get along, not bickering about all the small irrelevancies. 

“He’s been asking for you, by the way. He’s… worried about you” 

Huh. Tony felt odd… Steve was injured and probably fully drugged-up and presumably not conscious enough to think clearly, but Tony couldn’t ignore the slight satisfaction of knowing that Steve thought about him, even when he had so much else to be concerned about. But of course, no one could know that, so Tony just rolled his eyes.

“The guy’s got a gunshot wound the size of my fist, broken multiple bones and is nursing a concussion just to top it off, and he’s worried about me? That’s ridiculous.”

“I know… That’s Steve for you,” she smiled fondly. 

“He’s an idiot. A fucking sacrificing, self-destructive idiot,” Tony tried to sound angry, but both of them knew he couldn’t really be angry at Steve. Steve was just too honorable for his own good.

“I don’t disagree… But he’s our idiot,” she simplified and Tony hummed in agreement. 

A silence settled over them, the workshop completely quiet once again. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes, a meaningful glance that Tony didn’t know he had needed, but apparently he had ‘cause his demeanor eased when she laid a comforting hand on his arm. 

“He really wants to see you, though. You were the first one he asked for.”

“You were there when he woke up?” Tony asked and she nodded almost imperceptibly in reply.

“Go,” she demanded and signaled towards the door. 

Tony hesitated and frowned. He opened his mouth to say something but never got the chance to speak before Natasha nearly pushed him off his chair. “Go!” She encouraged once more.

Tony smiled slightly as he stumbled out of the chair, headed for the door and made his way to Steve’s floor. 

————————————

The elevator doors opened directly into the living space when it reached Steve’s floor. Tony walked out cautiously, trying to keep quiet. He didn’t even know why, it wasn’t like he didn’t want Steve to know he was coming. 

As he stood there, he surveyed the room. He hadn’t been visiting Steve’s floor very often, but it looked just like how he’d imagined it: tidy, organized and depressingly empty. Everything seemed to have its place. The few paintings that were on the walls hung perfectly straight; the kitchen was exemplarily clean, not a single plate was in the sink (Tony couldn’t relate); the pillowed sat flawlessly in the couch, which looked like it had never been used. It was almost surgical how impeccable the room looked, and Tony’s heart ached at how impersonal it was. The only sign of life was the used tissues that were scattered randomly around the room. 

“Cap?” Tony called out.

He was met by silence.

“Cap, you in here?” he tried once more.

Still no response. He moved further into the apartment, examining the room as he went on. Running a finger over the sideboard surface, checking for dust, which just confirmed Tony’s thoughts. Exemplarily clean. He did, however, notice a piece of paper that was folded into a small square. Tony looked over his shoulder before reaching out for it and unfolding it. The paper was wrinkled and delicate and old, like had it been crumpled up far too many times. 

When Tony got a look at the content, he immediately understood. Damn, he thought to himself as his eyes ran over the photo of Steve and someone who Tony presumed was Bucky Barnes. Steve looked… different. Skinnier and shorter, the photo was obviously taken before the serum, but he was still immensely beautiful and the smile on his face was unlike any of the smiles Tony had ever seen from him. It was wry and crooked and sweet and authentic. It was real, it made Tony dizzy and giddy, and he suddenly felt an egoistical desire to make Steve smile like that again.

Then he heard some shuffling from one another room, quickly folded the picture and put it back in place. He slowly made his way into the corridor, listing carefully to identify the source of the sounds. He narrowed his eyes in concentration when the shuffles were replaces by sniffles and catching breath.

“uhh… hu- uhH! huhh? uhhISh’oo!! snffSNff! Huh… huhEschh! snff!” 

The sneezes were followed by a pained whimper and Tony wanted to resist the urge to barge in through the door and take care of him, but he just couldn’t. Fortunately he had a little self-control and opened the door to Steve’s bedroom quietly and peaked through the opening.

The wounded soldier was sat hunched over on his bed, clutching his torso and clenching his jaw. (Tony was sure he could cut himself on Steve’s jawline — so strong, so sharp and Tony wanted to run his fingers over it softly, caressingly. Wait- no! He did not.) Steve was wearing sweatpants and that same sweater he had worn in the kitchen the night before, his hair was wet and messy, and Tony could see the flush in his cheeks and how his nostrils were rough and pink, like had they been abused by too many tissues and probably the cuff of the sweater as well. 

Tony knocked rhythmically on the door and it creaked as he opened it wider. Steve looked up in surprise with his mouth hanging slightly open.

“Hey there, stranger,” Tony smirked and walked towards the bed. 

“Tony,” Steve croaked then cleared his throat. “Um… hu- y-you really shouldn’t be here right now. Uhh…uh-huhTChushh!” 

He sneezed off to the side, away from Tony, coughed harshly and winced wretchedly afterwards. He let out a whine as he breathed in short and fast breaths as if every inhale was sending a thousand needles into his stomach.

 Steve’s eyebrows drew together in discomfort, which Tony, even though he wasn’t a genius when it came to body language, noticed immediately and sat down next to Steve and comfortingly laid an arm around the broad shoulders and placed the other on top of Steve’s own hand that was attached to his ribs. 

“At ease soldier,” Tony mumbled and gently stroked the other man’s arm.

“You’re pathetic. And a selfish asshole, by the way” Tony continued when Steve’s expression became less tense. 

Steve smiled wryly. “Thanks a lot, Stark. Nothing’s new then,” he said and cocked and eyebrow at which Tony rolled his eyes.

“Don’t try to be smart here, Rogers. If you weren’t already hurt, I’d punch you so hard I’d break my own hand,” he snarled half seriously, half jokingly.

“Hm,” Steve hummed. “So are you gonna tell me why I’m in trouble? snFF!”

“You really don’t know? Wow, you’re even more stupid than you look, Capsicle,” Tony commented when Steve shook his head.

“And you’re apparently a bigger asshole than one would think,” Steve clicked his tongue and Tony smirked smugly. “Not that I don’t want your company Stark, but um… I have some work to do, so-“

Steve wiggled his way out of Tony’s embrace and used the edge of the bed as support when he stood up. He turned away from Tony, who had let out an annoyed sigh when the soldier had moved, not wanting to have to deal with the reacting he knew was coming. As he approached the door, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and clasped his side. 

“For Gods’ sake, Rogers!” Tony exploded as he raised from the bed, and Steve jumped. “Will you please you give yourself a break for once? I’m so fucking tired of you acting like this!”

“Acting how?” Steve asked through gritted teeth. 

Tony threw his hands up in frustration, then pulled his hair tightly, eyes widening. “Like this, like you’re okay when you’re obviously not!” 

Tony gestured at Steve’s bruise and bandaged body.

“Tony, please stop, I’m fi-“

“Shut up. Shut. Up! Don’t say you’re fucking fine, Steve. Everyone knows you’re not. And for the record, you’re an idiot. A stupid, inconsiderate, self-sacrificing idiot, who never thinks before he acts this recklessly. You could’ve died out there. Yeah- hey, don’t look at me like that, Rogers. Do you ever consider what could happen when you go into a fight when you’re in no state to do so? Huh? I don’t think you do, ‘cause then you’d know how fucking ignorant that is. I don’t want your death on my conscience so you better stop being a careless, selfish ‘hero’.”

Tony stopped to breathe and realized he’d just stood there and nearly screamed at Steve for about a minute. His sight had turned blurry and his entire body was shaking, his lower lip quivering intensely. 

None of them dared to move, both waiting for the other one to speak up first. Steve’s jaw was clenched once again, the way he always clenches it and Tony hates it because he can’t read it. He doesn’t know what it means — it has so many meaning, he’s learned. He does it when he’s in pain, or when he’s nervous, or angry, or sad and, Tony thinks, maybe even when he’s scared. And Tony doesn’t know which of Steve’s clenches he would prefer right now. 

Steve’s gaze that had been directed right into Tony’s eyes now wandered around the room. His hands were rubbing against his thighs and he was biting the inside og his cheeks. Nervous, Tony concluded. He’d seen Steve this way, observed him, enough times that even though his clenched jaw was ambiguous, Tony would always recognize his nervous ticks. Not that he had spent a lot of time does said thing. No, it was just that Steve often was nervous… yeah, that’s why.

Steve looked up for a second, his eyes were sorrowful and apologetic. “M’sorry, Tony…” Steve mumbled quietly. His voice was thin, on the edge of breaking. “But y-you really shouldn’t huh! be h-here riihh right now,” Steve spoke through catching  breaths, hurrying out the last part of the sentence before letting out a soft TShhoo!

“First of all, this is my tower, you don’t get to tell me where I can and cannot be. Second of all, why is it so hard for you to let anyone care for you?” 

Steve cracked a small smile at first, but his expression quickly crumbled once again. 

“I… snf! You really don’t have to worry, I’m fi- ugh,” another throb in his ribs sent a wave of torment through Steve’s upper body, bending him in half with one hand resting on his knee while the other was fastening his side. Tony was quick to support him, carefully guiding him back to the bed.

“Yeah, you’re fine, I get it. Now sit down you lunatic.”

Steve slumped down into the softness of the bed and nodded a thanks at Tony.  “I appreciate your help, Stark, but I can take care of myself,” he said, earning a huffed laugh from Tony.

“You’re the worst at taking care of yourself, Rogers. And that’s a lot coming from me. Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“Will you please just leave it Stark?” Steve scowled. 

“No, Cap! I won’t.”

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you wasting your time here, Tony?” Steve shook his head in confusion. “You don’t care about me. No one actually cares about me, Tony. All they care about is stupid Captain America.”

Now Tony was the one who’s uncomfortable. He swallowed hard. God, was he going to do this? Was he going to tell Steve? 

“That’s not true, Steve.”

Just then, Steve looked up, clearly puzzled.

“How the hell would you know?” 

Tony sighed and scratched his neck. It was now or never.

“Because I care, Steve.” There it was. “I care about you so much it hurts. And I don’t like it, cos’ I don’t do this catching-feelings-thing.”

Steve’s jaw dropped, his mouth hanging slightly open, as if he wanted to say something, but Tony held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t. I just want to say something… Look, Steve. You and I both know that I’m a mess, kinda like you right now. I’m stubborn. I can’t keep my mouth shut and I say things I know I shouldn’t say. I’m inconsiderate and egoistical and I don’t care for anyone else. Or so I thought until about 24 hours ago. The point is that I care about you Steve. Hell, I freaking love you. No- I’m not done yet. I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings. I know I’m not easy to love, but I just… I wanted you to know… That I care.”

The silence made Tony even more nervous. Shit, he thought. He had just rambled and said everything he felt and Steve probably didn’t like him back, and he hadn’t prepared an escape plan for when Steve broke his heart.

“You’re right, Tony. You’re not... You infuriate me like no one else. You drink way too much coffee and never listens to my orders, snff! To anyone’s orders, in fact. You’re a pain in my ass,” Steve listed and Tony could only nod in agreement. “But you’re also generous. You do care about the people you love. I know the reason you work so much is because you want to help. And yes, we clash and we argue, just like right now, but you bring out the best, a- snf! and sometimes the worst in me. But I wouldn’t have it any other way… I love you too, Tony.”

Tony stood tongue-tied and stared at Steve. That was unexpected. “Wait, what?” 

“I love you,” Steve repeated, his face was serious as he grabbed Tony’s hand and pulled him closer until they both sat on the bed, looking directly into each other’s eyes. 

Tony was apprehensive as his fingers intertwined with Steve’s.

“So you, Steve Rogers hot-as-fuck and super sexy, hunky super-soldier,” Tony’s hand moved uncontrollably, gesturing at Steve’s body, “are in love… with me?” 

Steve ducked his head and chuckled as he gave Tony’s hand a squeeze. When he looked up, his eyes were sparkling. They were still red-rimmed and he still looked worn out, but something had changed. 

“I am. Very much so.” 

Tony felt his cheeks flush and smiled like a giddy teenage girl. “That makes this so much easier for me,” he whispered as he leant in softly placed his lips on Steve’s. One hand was cupping the soldier’s cheek, the other one still squeezing his tight. 

Steve’s lips were soft and had a sweet taste, just like Tony had imagined and they matched his perfectly, as if they were made for each other. It started off slow and gentle but grew more passionate by the second, their hand suddenly fiddling all over each other. Tony reckoned things would’ve progressed even further had Steve not pulled away.

“Sorry… We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against Tony’s. “You’ll get sick.”

Tony smiled fondly. How hadn’t he noticed how amazing Steve was before now? “You sound like you think I care about getting sick.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head affectionately. “Oh, I know you don’t. But I do. snf! And I’m probably not in the best of state to… y’know… right now,” he smiled wryly. Tony had completely forgotten about the fact that Steve had literally been shot.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry, Steve. I should probably just, like, let you get some sleep. No work.” Tony stood up and shot the wounded soldier a serious look at which Steve laughed, still holding Tony’s hand.  “Or you could, maybe, just… do go?”

Tony felt something in his stomach lurch and wondered how Steve had managed to sweep him off his feet in the matter of 24 hours. 

“Only if you promise to rest and let me take care of you,” he wiggled his eyebrows at Steve, who was rolling his eyes but chuckled lightly.

“Manipulative asshole… snf! but I think I could be persuaded to oblige just this once.” 

Tony lips curled into an affectionate smile as he sat back down. 

“Just this once, huh?” He slowly bent forward, his face nearing Steve’s who stayed still.

“Tony, I-“ Steve started but Tony cut him off.

“Shhh… stop speaking, Steven,” he purred as he placed a tender kiss on Steve’s cheek, pulling him into a warm embrace. As held held onto him, his arms barely reaching all the way round Steve’s broad frame, he gently pushed Steve backwards until they were both lying down in each other’s arms. They didn’t speak, just listened to the way they harmonized as they breathed in unison. Tony found a comfort in hearing the proof of life that followed every in- and exhale. Slowly he felt his eyelids grow heavier and closed a few moments later. He still listened attentively to the way Steve’s breath evened out. It was so peaceful, and Tony happily thought to himself that nothing could take the calm away. 

That was until he suddenly heard small, desperate gasp and felt Steve shuffle out of his hold.

“T- Toohhny, sn! I gooh- gotta,” Steve spoke through hitching breath. 

Tony’s eyes fluttered open and slowly released Steve from his grip but kept a comforting hand on Steve’s arm as the blonde sat up, his breath caught and he buried his face in the crook of his elbow.

“Bless you,” Tony said preemptively.

“huh… snff! huuishh’uh! heh- eishh’ew” snfsnf… h’USHhh! Ow…” Steve doubled over as the sneezes overcame, the last one particularly strong and leaving Steve breathless as he winced and let out a painful grunt, a hand clenched to his ribs.

“Bless you. Bless you… God bless you, Steven,” Tony spoke softly as he carefully stroked Steve’s abdomen from behind him. 

“Sorry, I-… this is horrible. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Steve sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. 

Tony placed a soft kiss to Steve’s shoulder and nuzzled his face into the side his neck.

“It’s okay to let your guard down for once in your life, Steve. You’re sick, you need to relax… and, oh my god I’m gonna regret saying this later, but you’re surprisingly cute when you’re not so uptight,” Tony whisper and Steve could catch the undertones of a smile in his voice.

“I can’t believe me being sick, and sniffly, and sneezy and gross makes you think I’m cute,” he shook his head lightly, huffing a laugh. 

“Yeah, me neither. I think it’s because you can’t keep up with my wit when,” Tony joked, nudging Steve slightly.

“Yeah? You just wait a few days, I’ll be back to outwitting you in no time, Stark,” Steve quipped earning a laugh from Tony and Steve couldn’t help blush at how the soft chuckle was like the most beautiful melody he could imagine.

Tony Stark was used to posing in front of the cameras, giving his best toothy smile, making conversation with everyone. He went to galas and fundraisers, wearing some of world’s most expensive suits and looking as glamorous, if not more than a Hollywood-actor on the red carpet. Point is, Tony was used to keeping up a facade and adapting his demeanor to fit the genius-billionaire reputation. 

Not a lot of people could tell the difference between the role he played and the real man that was behind the sharp exterior. But Steve could. 

Steve had always hated the way Tony forced a smile in front of the cameras, how he was putting up an act. It was in times like this, quiet and intimate, that Steve could feel the warmth and sincerity that exuded from him, how has smile was smaller and a bit crooked but so much more real and so much more Tony. Whenever he managed to get that side out of Tony, Steve’s heart would flutter and think to himself that maybe, just maybe, he could be good enough for him and Steve would feel a wave of happiness that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. That’s how he felt in this instant. To hear Tony’s laugh, knowing he was he reason behind it, was more rewarding than anything else Steve could imagine. 

“Come on, lay back down,” Tony murmured as he pulled Steve back until he laid comfortably on the bed. “Get some rest.”

For once, Steve didn’t protest. He obliged, shuffling into his preferred sleeping position, on his side, curling into himself and closed his eyes. He let out a relieved sigh and Tony could visibly see the way Steve’s body relaxed into the soft fabric and huddled closer to Tony, who couldn’t help but smile a how small he looked.

“Tony?”

“Hm? Yeah?”

Steve held Tony’s hand a little tighter, giving it a squeeze. 

“Can you, like, maybe… will you stay, tonight? Please,” Steve begged, frowning in suspense as he waited for Tony to answer. However, his expression softened as soon as he felt a tickling breath behind his ear and a pair of lips brushing his cheek.

Before definitively answering, Tony took one last glance the gorgeous face he so suddenly had fallen in love with. His forehead was covered in a thin layer of fever-induced sweat. He had dark circles under his eyes, a clear indication of just how badly he needed to sleep. His nostrils were still twitching ever so slightly and he sniffed quietly as he tugged himself closer to the duvet. 

Tony had never imagined that he would fall in love with the man he had both idolized and hated when growing up, but then again, he never thought good things could actually happen to him. But this. This was more than Tony could ever hope for. 

He laid down next to Steve, wrapping an arm around his waist, letting the bigger man be the little-spoon, and he instantly felt sure that this would be the best night’s sleep the two insomniacs would’ve had in a very long time. 

“I’ll stay. Of course I will.”

[manthamu]

DISCORD THREAD: if you can’t take the heat...

WHO? aaron hart & cillian kelly

WHERE? in the kitchen at coast city crab shack

WHEN? february 24th, 2020; afternoon

WARNINGS? n/a

OVERVIEW.  aaron drops by the crab shack to see how business is. cillian happens to be working. they have a heated interaction in the kitchen that leaves cillian breathless and confused. 

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

cillian absolutely could not stand aaron hart. the ceo and businessman had only been in coast city for a short amount of time but he'd already made quite the impression. of course, cillian had known aaron from what seemed like another life ago when the two of them were a couple of overeager teens experimenting in a closet at some party they somehow both ended up at. cillian had blocked that out of his brain almost entirely, but ever since aaron showed up, cillian's mind wandered back to that closet every now and then. and it was hard to avoid the guy now that cillian worked for him. cillian was still bitter that aaron was attempting to turn the crab shack into some tourist destination. he much preferred the gritty sort of dive it used to be. but all good things came to an end, cillian supposed. speaking of which, cillian's shift had actually been going relatively smoothly. that was until aaron decided to stop by for a quick check in. his visits didn't seem to be consistent, and cillian never knew when he'd be poking his head in the kitchen to spy on him. it felt like it had been happening a bit more frequently lately. "what's up boss man?" cillian asked, the disdain clear in his voice as he greeted the business man. he didn't even have to look up from what he was doing to know that it was aaron. he had this sort of aura about him that belonged to absolutely no one else. it was unmistakable. "if you were hoping to catch me smoking weed or something, you missed that about 20 minutes ago."

Aaron.

Aaron wasn't very fond of the idea of moving to coast city in the first place. Of course he was going to move so that his kids didn't have to live a childhood of traveling all the way across the country to see their mom and dad. He had plenty of friends in town too, but he had a hard time leaving New York. It was his home, and despite the fact that Aaron had done a lot of traveling in his 27 years, New York and Paris were really the only two places that he could ever call home. Could he really call some random beach town his home? Aaron thrived in big cities, and Coast City was the exactly opposite. He decided to stop by the crab shack today...just to check in and see how everything was going. Of course Cillian was working. He was there almost everyday. No doubt Aaron's laziest employee, but it was hard to find someone willing to do a shitty job like Cillian's. "Mr. Kelly." He half smiled, clearing his throat and fixing his tie. "I don't give a fuck if you get high, Cillian, just don't smell up my fucking kitchen." Aaron hated this place. He wasn't prepared for all the renovations and changed he needed to make when he bought it. He walked around the kitchen like he owned the place (which he did). "I'm going to make sure that your manager has you guys cleaning the place every night. I can just..." He put his hands out, palms up in front of him like he was holding something "...feel the grease in the air." He scowled.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

cillian sighed in frustration, dropping the dish he'd been scrubbing along with his sponge into the sink and spinning around on his heel with a flourish. he leaned back against the sink, folding his arms across his chest and giving aaron a look to communicate that he was not welcome here. aaron may own the crab shack in a physical sense, but cillian had made this kitchen his own over the last four years. this was his territory. and aaron was intruding. "it's a shitty seafood restaurant in coast city. what did you expect?" cillian questioned. his tone was sharp, irritated, defensive. it may have been a shitty seafood restaurant, but it was just as familiar to cillian as his apartment. it was kind of just a part of his identity at this point. cillian turned his back on aaron then, pulling another dish out of the soapy water. "why'd you buy this place anyway? you obviously fucking hate it here."

Aaron.

Aaron blinked when he heard the dish crash in the sink. It startled him a bit, but he didn’t jump. He smirked to himself when he noticed how much Aaron’s words had seemed to bother him. The businessman shoved his hands on his front pockets and sat back on his hip. “This is prime real estate. This location is perfect. It’s a crab shack now, but who knows what it’s going to be in a few months from now. You know I own one of the nicest Italian restaurants in Manhattan back in the city.” He accent seemed to stick out even more here when he talked about New York. He stepped a little closer to Cillian when he turned his back to him just for dramatic effect. “You won’t be working at a crab shack for much longer, Mr. Kelly.” He assured the younger male.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

it was annoying how easily aaron could work his way under cillian's skin. he was just so fucking irritating. cillian spun around on his heel again, faltering only for a moment when he realized how much closer aaron was, though he recovered quickly enough. "i'll burn the place to the ground before i see you turn it into some boujee ass italian restaurant," cillian threatened, dish still in hand as he glowered down at aaron. he had a few inches on the older man, though cillian didn't feel that have him much of an advantage. everything about aaron was dominant. regrettably, cillian had to admit that this asshole was the definition of big dick energy. fucking annoying.

Aaron.

Aaron didn't really take Cillian's threat as an actual threat. This guy couldn't actually threaten Aaron. He was the king of new york and what was going to to stop him from becoming the king of california too? Certainly not Cillian Kelly. "Right. I'm sure you will. Then I'm sure you'll get along really nice with the murders in prison." He chuckled to himself as he leaned against the countertop next to the sink. Aaron smirked up at Cillian. "You know, you're kind of sexy when you're mad. Like the pouty look is good on you. Though, I don't think I've ever actually seen you smile." He raised his brow like he was waiting for Cillian to give him a little grin, even though he really didn't expect him to. He just wanted to poke fun at him, even though he really did look hot when he was mad.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

the snappy comeback that had been forming in cillian's mind died on his tongue the moment aaron called him sexy, cillian's nose wrinkling almost instantly as he looked away from aaron with a sort of huff and a roll of the eyes. even still, cillian felt his face get hot. he knew aaron was just trying to get under his skin, piss him off, but for a split second cillian wondered is aaron even remembered the night they had met. of course he didn't. he was a rich hot shot asshole who didn't have time for people like cillian. cillian was certain that aaron hadn't even recognized him when they'd been reintroduced for the first time after aaron took over the crab shack. but cillian remembered. and it was hard not to think about it in detail with aaron standing so close to him and saying things like that. "fuck off, aaron," cillian mumbled under his breath, returning his attention to the dishes in the sink.

Aaron.

Shit. Aaron could tell that that really pissed the younger male off. For some sick reason, that put the biggest, most evil smile on Aaron's face. He didn't like Cillian. Not one bit. But Aaron really wanted to run his hands through his thick, brown hair, tug his head back and kiss his neck. He wanted to taste him. He was hot, but such a bottom feeder - Aaron was someone who loved his worked and cared about his status. Cillian didn't give a fuck about what people thought about him. But...he was so sexy when he was angry. Aaron reached to turn off the big faucet completely, then stepped closer pressed his hand to his arm as a way of telling him to set the dishes down. Aaron's blue gaze shifted from Cillian to around them for a brief moment, just to make sure that no one was looking. He'd probably never admit that he was doing this. "So grumpy..." He hummed, parting his lips slightly and gaze from his lips back up to his eys.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

if cillian was thinking clearly, he would have pulled away, out of aaron's grip, would have told him to fuck off, maybe even shoved him a little bit. but it wasn't exactly a secret that being man handled was somewhat of a turn on for cillian, rebellious in nature but submissive behind closed doors. of course aaron didn't know this, and cillian wanted to keep it that way, though for whatever reason, cillian stayed where he was. cillian set the dish down in the sink obediently, as if aaron had ordered him to, his eyes raking upwards from aaron's grip on his arm to aaron's parted lips before finally meeting his gaze. "you're such an asshole," cillian muttered, though his tone was hardly convincing, his eyes returning to aaron's lips again as he bit down on his own somewhat uncertainly.

Aaron

Aaron kind of figured that this would be the best way to get running through Cillian's head rent free, which was what he wanted the most. Just for his ego. Lord knows that thing doesn't need to grow anymore. Aaron's lips curled up into a devilish smile. With his hand still rested on Cillian's arm, he brought his other hand up to traced his thumb around his lips. He felt Cillian tighten slightly, but he barely moved or even coward away from his touch. "So what if I am?" He said, before leaning in to kiss him. He licked on the other's lower lip immediately asking for entrance. He cupped the back of his neck and pulled him closer towards him.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

cillian's eyes widened when aaron's thumb brushed across his lower lip. he stiffened slightly, though he stayed still, his breath catching in his throat as he searched aaron's face for some indication of what he was thinking. he had to remember that night then, didn't he? or was this kind of thing just muscle memory for aaron at this point? entirely meaningless. cillian wasn't sure he cared either way, though he felt himself panic when aaron leaned in and pressed his lips to cillian's. before aaron could push his tongue into cillian's mouth, cillian pushed him away, his hand firm on aaron's chest as he stared at him, eyes wide, and lips parted, his breathing uneven. a brief silence passed between them, cillian's heart hammering in his chest as he tried to collect himself. then, against cillian's better judgement, he grabbed a hold of the collar of aaron's shirt and forcefully pulled him back in, their lips crashing together as cillian kissed him eagerly. "fuck you," he muttered against aaron's lips.

Aaron.

Aaron actually got a little nervous for a second, but he didn't show it. He tried to keep his cool, but he wasn't exactly fond of rejection (he had a decent batting average, but getting rejected had happened more times than Aaron would like to admit). And for the spilt second that Cillian had pulled away from him, he genuinely thought that Cillian was going to tell him to fuck off and get back to the dishes. He wasn't getting those vibes though. He was pleased with himself when Cillian pulled Aaron back into him for another rough kiss. Aaron's hands seemed to automatically move up to run his fingers through Cillian's long hair. The businessman roughly pushed the younger male up against the wall behind him and pressed their bodies together. He let out a guttural, satisfied hum as they made out in the back of this shitty crab shack that Aaron had the audacity to call an investment. Until he finally pulled away. He let his lips linger over Cillian's for a brief moment, letting their eyes meet so that Aaron could read his face. He cleared his throat and gave the dishwasher a tiny smirk. Stepping back, he collected himself and smirked at Cillian before walking out of the kitchen silently.

𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲

there was an undeniable heat between them and cillian wasn't sure if that was just the hatred or something else entirely. all he knew was that something about this was undeniably hot, even more so when aaron pushed cillian back against the wall and pressed their bodies together. cillian grabbed at aaron eagerly, a little too eager maybe, but cillian had given up on playing it cool, entirely too occupied with giving into his guiltiest of pleasures. just when they were nearing the edge of something a little heavier than make out territory, aaron pulled away, leaving cillian breathless and a little dazed. definitely confused. and when aaron smirked at him like that, cillian's forehead creased with further confusion. who had won here? which of them had given in? aaron had made the first move and yet he was treating this as if he had cillian right where he wanted him. cillian's lips parted to speak, but no words came and soon aaron was on his way out of the kitchen, leaving cillian behind with the dishes and a hunger for something more.

[wistfulcynic]

Self-Promo Sunday: Four Christmases

Merry Christmas everyone! I wrote this fic last year for CS Secret Santa so I thought I’d share again. Enemies to friends to lovers with family moments and ice skating!  

SUMMARY: When Emma Swan first meets Killian Jones at her sister’s Christmas party, she is not impressed. Over the course of the four Christmases they spend in each other’s company, Killian does his best to change her mind. 

On Tumblr: The First | The Second | The Third | The Fourth

On AO3

-

THE FIRST: 

They say first impressions are important, and Emma had always been a believer in this. It was essential for her job; if the skips weren’t convinced that she was there for a date with them, they’d never fall into her honey trap.

Of course, in her line of work she never spent enough time with anyone for there to be a second or third impression, so the first was pretty much all you got.

Her first impression of Killian Jones, formed about two hours into Emma’s sister Mary Margaret’s annual Christmas party, was not favourable. Of course she noticed his handsome face with its bright blue eyes and very kissable lips, but at the moment of their meeting those eyes were fixed on the naked breasts of her friend Ruby as the lips descended to latch onto her nipple and suck it hard as Ruby leaned back against the bathroom sink and moaned.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” shouted Emma.

“Ems!” shrieked Ruby, pushing Killian away and yanking up her dress.

Killian turned to glare at her, clearly displeased by the interruption. “Are you fucking kidding me,” he growled. “Barging in like this…”

“‘Barging in’? To the bathroom of my own apartment?”

He regarded her more closely, interest sparking in his eyes as he took in her habitual honey-trapping outfit of tight red dress and sky-high heels, her blonde hair in loose curls tumbling down her back. (“It’s— maybe a bit much for a friendly Christmas party?” Mary Margaret had said, but Emma knew that if she were going to survive a whole night with her sister’s very friendly friends then she needed her armour very much intact.)

“Ah, you must be Swan, then,” said Killian, his blue gaze now fixed on her as though Ruby and the party and the entire rest of the world didn’t exist.

“Emma Swan, yes.” She resisted the urge to squirm under his intense regard. The accelerated heartbeat and sudden hot flush across her skin she attributed to outrage. She simply wouldn’t allow them to be due to anything else.

“And do you not knock on bathroom doors here in your apartment, Emma Swan?” he inquired mockingly.

“I did knock,” hissed Emma, unconsciously moving closer to him. “You clearly didn’t hear me.”

“Well, I was rather occupied, love,” he said with an arrogant smirk that made her blood boil.

“I am not your love!”  

“No, indeed. Although that could certainly be remedied, should you wish it… Swan.” His smirk turned lascivious as he leaned into her space, his gaze roaming her body. His tongue flicked out to wet his lower lip and Emma actually shivered, suddenly overcome by images of that tongue and those lips on her skin.

What is wrong with me?

“You’re disgusting,” she hissed.

“Bit harsh, love.”

“Coming on to me in front of your— of the—” she gestured angrily at Ruby, who had been watching the interplay between Emma and Killian with extreme interest.

“Chill, Ems, it was just a bit of fun,” she said, “I took the opportunity to get some hot pirate action, but now that you have completely killed the mood, I’ll be getting back to the party. Maybe another time, Captain.”

“Aye, love,” replied Killian, his eyes still locked with Emma’s.

Ruby shook her head and squeezed behind Emma to get to the door, forcing her to take another step closer to Killian, who favoured her with a smile she would have found charming on a man she didn’t loathe.

“Now then, Swan, care to pick up where she left off?”

“I would rather rip out my own fingernails,” she retorted, the breathiness of her voice revealing the lie of her words. Why couldn’t she breathe?

He laughed, completely unperturbed. “I’d heard you were a tough lass.”

“Woman.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Lass means girl, right? I’m not a girl.”

The smirk returned. “That you certainly are not,” he purred, his voice dark and velvety and dripping with sinful promise.

There was that shiver again. Emma ground her teeth, struggling to think over the pounding of her heart, barely aware that she was biting her lower lip and shifting on her feet, squeezing her thighs together in an attempt to quell the tingling between them. What the hell was happening? There was no way she could be physically attracted to this jerk.

Killian closed the remaining distance between them, leading with his hips, one thumb tucked under his belt. With the other hand he reached up to grasp a lock of her hair, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger.

“So what do you say, Swan…” Maybe, she thought wildly, maybe I could… just this once… “…shall we see just how much of a woman you are?”

And the spell was broken.

Ugh, he was the worst, and now she was furious. Furious with him for ruining his gorgeous face by being such an asshole, with herself for being prepared to overlook it. How could she ever have even considered letting him touch her?

Quick as a flash, she grabbed his hand from her hair and whipped him around, twisting his arm behind his back, smiling in satisfaction at his grunt of pain.

“I would not fuck you,” she hissed in his ear, “If you were the last man on earth and the last hope for continuing the human race.” She wrenched his arm higher. “Do you understand?”

“I do,” he replied, through clenched teeth, “You needn’t press the point, Swan.”

She released him, and he immediately stumbled away from her, wincing as he reached up to massage his shoulder. He turned towards the door, twisting the knob and opening it a few inches before suddenly pausing and closing it again.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She blinked in surprise. “What?”

He turned to look at her for the first time since she’d released his arm, his expression free of suggestion or innuendo. Instead he looked… ashamed?

“My behaviour just now, it was… uncouth. Bad form. I apologise.”

“Oh.” She had not been expecting that. “Uh, fine. Thanks. Still not gonna fuck you.”

The smirk returned, this time merely a wry twist of his mouth, an eyebrow slightly quirked. “I’d never dream of suggesting you would,” he said. “See you around, Emma Swan.”

And with a small, slightly mocking bow, he was gone.

She saw him several more times that night, watched him actually, if she was honest, as he chatted and laughed and charmed his way through her friends and acquaintances. She waited for him to slip up, to show them the nasty, leering side of himself she’d seen in the bathroom, but he never did. In fact, they all seemed to love him.

It really pissed her off.

“So who is this Killian guy anyway?” she asked Mary Margaret when they went to the kitchen together to get drinks for everyone.

“Uh, he’s a friend of David’s.” Mary Margaret was distracted, trying to remember all the drink orders.

“Yeah, but how do they know each other? They seem… kinda different.”

“They met during David’s year abroad. You remember he studied in London? Killian was there too, I think they met in a pub or something.”

“Yeah, he seems like the kind of guy to hang out in pubs,” said Emma, wrenching the cap off a bottle of beer with perhaps slightly more force than was strictly required.  

Mary Margaret gave her an odd look. “Killian is definitely a character, but David says he was miserable in London before they met. Killian helped him feel more at home, introduced him to his friends, invited him to parties and stuff. He’s really a nice guy, Emma.”

Emma snorted. Nice guys didn’t come on to strange women in bathrooms.

“David’s been trying to get him to Storybrooke for Christmas for years now, but he’s always busy. He has to leave again tomorrow, actually. Something to do with his work.”

“What does he do?” Why was she interested?

“I don’t know exactly, he works on some kind of ship. Modern piracy, or something, David said.”

Ruby had called him a pirate too.

As she helped Mary Margaret carry the drinks, Emma found her attention drawn back to Killian, who was sitting on the arm of the sofa talking to… well, everyone, it seemed. He was telling a story, illustrating it animatedly with his hands —nice hands, she noticed, damn it— obviously coming to the punch line just as she arrived because the entire room burst into laughter.

Emma gritted her teeth as she handed him a beer.

“Thank you, Swan,” he said, with a polite smile. She nodded brusquely and turned away. She did not stomp off. She didn’t.

“So you’ve met Emma then,” said David.

“Aye, though I fear I’ve made rather a poor first impression,” Killian replied.

“Yeah, that’s not hard to do. Emma can be a bit prickly. She wasn’t my biggest fan at first either.”

“She’s Mary Margaret’s sister, you say?”

“Half sister, yeah. It’s a sad story. Their dad had a fling with Emma’s mom right after Mary Margaret’s mom died. When Emma’s mom found out she was pregnant, she freaked out and ran away. Their dad tried to find her, but she’d completely disappeared. Emma was found abandoned on the side of a road when she was less than a day old, and no one ever saw her mother again. She got swallowed up by the system then, spent years in foster care before their dad finally tracked her down.”

“Bloody hell.”

“You said it.”

Killian watched as Emma distributed drinks to the rest of the guests. Although she wasn’t unfriendly, her body language was decidedly closed off and unwelcoming, a clear warning to anyone who might try to get too close. Yet she couldn’t quite hide the yearning in her eyes as she watched the easy way the others interacted. She wanted affection, he realised, longed for intimacy, she just couldn’t open herself up to it, couldn’t bring herself to let anyone in.  

Fascinating.

He wished he could tell her that he understood, that he’d also been abandoned by a parent, and that after his brother’s death followed closely by his girlfriend’s he’d closed himself off from people too. It was hard to let anyone in when your only experiences with intimacy had ended in loss and betrayal, no one understood that better than he. Unfortunately, he feared he’d destroyed any chance to connect with her before he’d even really known he wanted to.

Killian kicked himself mentally for what must be the hundredth time in the past hour for having been such a boor in the bathroom. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking.

Although no, that wasn’t quite true. The problem was that he hadn’t been thinking. At least, he hadn’t been thinking with his brain. With his body already worked up by his dalliance with Ruby and his wits dulled by alcohol he had simply not been prepared for Emma, for the sharp green eyes that had pierced clear to his soul even as her soft gold hair had begged for his fingers to sink into it and pull her mouth to his. Immediately Ruby and the party and the fact that they were in the bloody bathroom had flown right out of his head, leaving only Emma and the hitch in her breath that he could feel on his cheek, the way her eyes had darkened as she bit a bright pink hue into her lower lip completely overwhelming his common sense and all his filters.

Oh, and he was a complete arse. That hadn’t helped matters either.

If only he didn’t have to leave early the next morning, he thought in frustration. Given enough time, he might be able to salvage the situation —salvaging wrecks was his job, after all— but instead her negative opinion of him would only solidify in his absence, and she’d probably spend the rest of her life thinking he was a creepy jerk.

He had no idea why this troubled him so much. All he knew was that he’d never felt so drawn to a woman before; even beyond the sexual attraction he sensed a kindred spirit in her and he couldn’t bear the idea of her despising him. Even if they never saw each other again.

He managed to speak to her once more, as he was leaving the party. She had fetched his coat for him (at Mary Margaret’s request and clearly under protest, he couldn’t help noticing), and he allowed his fingers to brush hers, lightly, as he took it from her.

Her sharp intake of breath and the way she snatched her hand away was balm to his soul. Whatever else, she wasn’t indifferent to him.

“So, you’re leaving tomorrow,” she blurted out, as he was shrugging the coat on.

“Aye. I have to get back to work.”

“On Christmas Eve?”

“Much of my work is… time sensitive. And I’ve no family anymore, so there’s not much point in taking the time off when I’d just be spending it alone.”

He had no idea why he’d told her that.

Perhaps he just wanted her to know that he too knew what it felt like to have no one.

Understanding and a hint of sympathy flashed across her face. “You could spend it with David,” she said, in a friendlier tone. “The holidays, I mean. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Aye, so he keeps telling me. But I don’t wish to impose.” He hesitated a moment before adding “Perhaps next year.” He zipped up his coat and slung his satchel over his shoulder, then turned and smiled at her, offering his hand. To his surprise, she took it.

On impulse, he lifted hers to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Her eyes widened, and she swallowed hard, licking her lips as she did, and Killian cursed the gods and the fates, and his own idiot self for ruining whatever chances he might otherwise have had with this woman.

“Happy Christmas, Emma Swan,” he said.

-

[annakie]

An Annotated Mass Effect Playthrough, Part Five

Will we make it off the Citadel in this update??

List of Posts: 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Flux is my favorite bar in all of the first game, I know there’s not many to choose from, but I like the music best, everybody’s clothed, everyone’s having a good time, there’s slots upstairs for entertainment, there’s dancing, and plenty of space to chill out in.  Also the color scheme is great.  It looks particularly great now with the graphics mod improvements.  

Doran gets a nice glamour shot here.

I’m a tattle tale who always turns this guy in.  I agree with Kaidan...

Also I really love Rita’s quest with her sister.  She loves her sister, Jenna  wants to be helpful, even Doran’s like “Hey I’d love to give her her job back.”  Everyone here is pretty wholesome.  And Jenna gets one of the best surprise appearances in ME3 if you do things right.  ME1Recalibrated fixes the bugs with her quest, too!

Speaking of bugged quests, Hello Conrad!  ME1Recalibrated fixes Conrad’s bug, and even if it doesn’t, ME2Re does.  The only bad thing about that is it makes his apology for accusing you of something you maybe didn’t do make no sense.

Everyone else was sure Conrad would turn out to be evil, too, right? Instead making him into just a big lying dummy with an advanced degree was a great move.  I was kinda hoping he’d show up in the Citadel DLC.   

Harkin is JUST the FUCKING WORST.  I’m always tempted to let Garrus cap him in ME2 because what a waste of air he is and doesn’t learn his lesson.  

This is also maybe the most overt place where FemShep experiences sexism.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s some pretty shitty sexism sprinkled throughout the games (as discussed a bit last post) but ugh this guy, if I could shoot him this game, I might.  At least on renegade playthroughs.

Speaking of Garrus...

Finally, an alien who wants to hang out with us.

As primarily a Kaidan-romancing gal, who tends to keep up with the Kaidan Alenko tag, especially back in the heyday of tumblr, for a while, loving Garrus was... difficult.

In October, when I was finishing up my latest ME3 playthrough and also cleaning up my blog, and also rewatching Doctor Who and thinking a lot about Rose Tyler and Martha Jones, I posted a long thing in a post about Kaidan and Garrus and badly behaving fanbases, which I don’t feel like typing again.  Here’s the whole thing, but I’m going to pull a part of it into here.

I love Garrus, so much.  And I was thinking with this whole parallel DW rewatch / Mass Effect replay think I’m doing right now how both Rose Tyler and Garrus Vakaraian are characters that were ruined for me for awhile due to their respective… overly enthusiastic fanbases who a small percentage of were dicks to people who loved other characters.  The Kaidan tag (and from what I understand Thane got some of this too, but not nearly as bad) was a pretty hostile place for awhile (and yeah I used to regularly check the Garrus tag too and there was a small amount of tag-invasion there but uh, like 5% of what the Kaidan tag got) which made loving the character of Garrus a lot harder for awhile.  But when actually watching seasons 1 & 2 / the end of 4 of Doctor Who, or actually playing the ME games, those characters are awesome.  

Fanbases can be amazing or terrible, and time and time again I think you start to realize that no matter how great a fandom is, there are going to be a few people who can only enjoy themselves by feeding on drama, or on lifting up what they love by stomping on other people/characters/plotlines.  

It’s not fair to characterize everyone who loves a popular thing as someone who does this.  It’s also hard to avoid completely because there will always be jerks, or young/new people who don’t realize what bad form they’re showing.  I did learn by trying to fight it for a year or two, that responding might help that one person not do it again, but it’s not going to stop overall.  

Anyway, don’t be a dick about the things you don’t like.  

It’s sad that even thirteen years past the release of ME1 and eight years past ME3 some people still need to have this fight online.   It’s basically impossible to enjoy like, any non-curated Mass Effect space online because of pissing contests or people spouting the same boring opinions.  Which they’re entitled to.  I’m just real tired of “Kaidan is boring!” “Ashley is a racist!” etc with no further depth of thought being given.

The ability to mute / block people and get away from the worst of it is one of the reasons I’m still on tumblr.  Especially always mute/block “confessions” blogs.  Yeesh.

---------

I’m glad Garrus is here, and I’m glad he’s on the team.  What’s funny though, is that people tend to forget that Garrus like, wasn’t really all THAT popular of a character before ME2.  I know I was only in the fandom for a year before ME2 but I dug in pretty deep in that time.

It wasn’t until he gets his face blown off and starts talking about Old Times that a lot of people started to REALLY like him.  He’s still great in ME1, but not like, elevated to god-tier that so many people did post ME2 release.  But in ME1 he IS neat because he’s really malleable.  Probably the companion who can have the biggest personality shift depending on your choices.

Also, I remember a time when the people who wanted to romance Garrus were like... outliers?  I remember thinking “GARRUS?  As a romance?  That’s... weird.  Who would do that!?”

OH HOW I WAS WRONG.  But that was before reach and flexibility.

Hey I even have a Shep that romanced Garrus in ME2 and ME3.  And I loved it!

Were I to replay a different Shep, she’d be my first choice.

So yeah, I love Garrus, I keep Kaidan in the squad all the time in ME1 and the other spot I try to rotate everyone else somewhat evenly, but you’ll see plenty of him.  Then ME2 he’s by my side most of the way.  And an awful lot in ME3, too.  But I’m happy for him to get crushed on by Dr. Michele and glad to see him and Tali find happiness in ME3.  SO that’s the path we’ll be going down if we get that far here.

I love the Destiny Ascension flyby moment on the Citadel, and it’s so easy to miss.  Also really hard to get good screenshots of.  Thanks Flycam.  Don’t pay attention to the untextured wall in the first pic, just look at the pretty lights!

Let’s go get another squadmate!  This time, a not-as-initially-friendly alien!

What an amazing entrance for Urdnot Wrex.

“Do you want me to arrest you?”

“I want you to try!”

Hell.  Yeah.

Here’s where the somewhat in somewhat evenly comes in.  I probably do favor Wrex and Ashely in the squad in ME1 a little because... well you know what’s coming for Ash and Wrex you get the least amount of time with by far of the other companions.  Also, he’s just... great?  A tank, with some biotics and a shotgun... okay well so am I as a vanguard, but Kaidan has just enough tech powers for us to muddle through where we need to when Wrex is in the squad and he’s so much fun to have around.  His “Fuck you, I don’t care” attitude is great, and his growth story throughout the trilogy is one of the best arcs a character gets, imho.  I just really love Urdnot Wrex.

This is a real nice flight control office you’ve got here, C-Sec.  It would be a shame if someone planted a bug in it later, since literally anyone can just walk on up here uncontested.

This entire area really is so pretty though.

I always pump points into Paragon as much as possible from as early on as possible, and saving these poor guys’ lives is one of the big reasons.  They don’t need to die.

Ash usually still stays in the party up to this point, though sometimes it’s Garrus.  Fist is still a dick in ME2 but he doesn’t need to die here, sorry Wrex.

...raise your hand if you still occasionally forget to pick up Emily Wong’s evidence and have to reload.  I remembered!  ...once I was almost out of Chora’s Den and had to turn around this time.

Kaidan?  Kaidan my love?  My darling... perhaps YOU shouldn’t be the one standing in the middle of the corridor with no barrier or protection?  (I suppose I could scooch over but then I’d look less badass for these screenshots.  Naaah.)

It’d be a shame if someone properly lit the corridor so we could see what’s going on.

But hey... TALI!  Tali Tali Tali!  The first quarian we see, and only one for... awhile?  Is there another quarian in this entire game? I’m trying to remember and seriously can’t think of one.

Anyway, I love Tali, but another character you really need to ignore their most rabid fanbase portions of.  Yikes, Talimancers were really something back in the day.  The biggest problem I have with Tali being in the squad is that normally she’s REALLY useful against Geth and... not so much against just about anything else.  She gets sidelined on my team more than I wish she would.  Especially since she doesn’t show up until very late in ME2 and late-midway through ME3.

Finally, the proof we need.  And the game continues to introduce new concepts to us with the Conduit and we hear the word Reapers for the first time.  We also get a loredump on the quarians and the geth.  

Tali’s voice doesn’t have quite as heavy of an accent in ME1 as it does in 2 and 3.  I guess we can assume she’s lost part of it while on her pilgrimage?  Picking up the local dialects a bit?  The next two times we see her she’s just spent a lot of time with her own people.

Tali’s suit and omnitool look SO GOOD with the updated textures.

I swap Ash out and Tali in at this point, and usually finish up a few more quests along the way.

Ah, Septimus.  You lovesick fool.

Honestly, the very best thing with Septimus is to bring Garrus here if you’re gonna romance him, have Garrus laugh at him for coming undone for love and then... well, ME2 and especially ME3 happen.  But still.  Septimus... always needs a kick in the pants but will get around to doing the right thing.

Hey here’s a cool thing ME1Recalibated does -- Morlan carries a Squad Iconic Armors stock, so you can always find tier-appropriate default look armor for you and all the squad.  Very cool of you, Morlan.  You are currently my favorite store on the Citadel.  Now stop sending me spam, I didn’t sign up for your mailing list.

Look, I have questions about what exactly Xeltan told the consort and how... all that... works... but... I don’t think I actually want to ask them.  Just.. let’s all shut up about all of it, it’s over now.

BTW, according to one of the novels, Councilor Anderson finds Ambassador Cayln super annoying.  I need to re-read that book.

OK fine... I’ll go talk to the Council.

Coming at ya with Actual Proof and a quarian tagging along to back up the claims, the Council is ready to listen.  And while not surprising that it’s finally time to become a Spectre, the actual ceremony is really well done.  With the swelling theme music blaring, and all three councilors stressing what a big deal this is and what will be expected of you, you really feel the weight of this moment.  People take notice.  Although apparently later, Kaidan or Ash get an entire televised event around becoming a Spectre, I guess there’s no time for that right now.

It definitely feels like the game so far has been building towards this moment, not only with POUNDING it into your brain about who Spectres are and why they’re so important and letting you know you’re being evaluated... but it feels like there’s been a shift in the game after this moment.  It’s A Big Deal.

I didn’t finish all the sidequests on the Citadel yet, they can wait, I’ve been here long enough.  Let’s go check out the new cool stuff we can buy.

ME1Recalibrated adds in this Spectre Armor.  Eeehhhhh... no thanks.  We’ll stick with Onyx.

I did cheat myself in a bunch of credits and picked up Spectre weapons though. This ain’t no tryhard playthrough.  

Well OK, we can finish ONE more quest.  Thanks, startlingly loud and triumphant music queue that’s never used again!

Man, this would be SUCH a good pic of the Normandy if... the airlock didn’t go straight through the ship.

We’ve got a ship of our own!  And most of our squadmates to put on it!

Sucks for Anderson to be sidelined, though.  We already love you, Anderson!

It’s cool to get a bit more of the Saren & Anderson backstory here for real.  Still, I enjoyed the book more.  Maybe I’ll do a re-read of all the ME books here soon.

Udina... just keep being you, I guess.  

WE HAVE A SHIP!!!

Okay, whew... we made it off the Citadel.  Now I gotta actually play some more to have more updates to post.  Might be a few days.  Have to actually go back to work tomorrow. :p

Let’s probably do like one sidequest then go get us an Asari!!

[sensenoi]

I recently reread Cruel Prince/read the B&N short story, and I had THOUGHTS:

Cardan is already drunk at the coronation because he's angsty about his least favorite brother becoming king, but he gets really drunk to the point of completely missing the coronation massacre because he's pissed about Jude. So essentially, Jude is indirectly responsible for saving his life.

I love how Jude is so shocked that Cardan is attracted to her that her first thought is that he must somehow be lying or twisting his words, while Kaye figures it out in about five seconds flat just watching them dance from a distance, before she's spoken to either one of them.

During the nixie episode, Jude thinks Cardan goes to the river's reeds to get a better look when she slips and falls in the water. He's really about to get into the river to help her if she was actually in trouble. I love how she automatically assumes the worst conclusions with him.

Cardan was probably looking for Jude under the tables after the coronation massacre. She and Taryn have a well-established habit of hiding under the tables at feasts, and he knew she would be in danger. It wasn't luck that Jude got her hands on Cardan - he was actively trying to find her.

One of the guards at Hollow Hall tells Jude and Sophie that Cardan has to return them both back this time. This raises SO MANY QUESTIONS. Cardan at the start of CP wouldn't be the type to return glamoured humans to the human world - he really does have a contempt of them, learned from Balekin and from his friends. But he also wouldn't intentionally hurt human servants either, and definitely not kill them. So what was happening there? I don't think we'll ever get answers and that upsets me a little.

When Jude first breaks into Cardan's room, she sees that he broke his pen. The pen he was writing his infamous Jude note with… so many angsty feelings.

Jude and co are literally the biggest dumbasses for not seeing the Balekin/Madoc alliance coming. Jude recognizes the spy she killed as being Madoc's and just decides not to mention it?? Jude figures out they've been misreading the blusher mushroom note and then not only fails to follow up on her investigation (to be fair, getting sidetracked to rescue Sophie is a noble cause), she fails to mention it to the Court! Sorry but the Court of Shadows is really bad at spying. Just epically bad. No wonder they mess up again in WK.

Cardan making out with random fairies while watching Jude make out with Locke is a mood and I can't believe Jude didn't figure out things sooner.

At the beginning of WK, when Grimsen is introduced, Jude mentions that Cardan had told her some info once about the Alderking's son Severin. I totally forgot that happened in CP and that we also met Severin.

I love how at the coronation and the Hollow Hall party, murder and mayhem is happening with abandon and everyone just stands around eating popcorn and watching the shenanigans unfold.

I really liked The Lost Sisters novella, but it ended a little too soon. I'm forever curious about Taryn's thought process when Jude comes in with Cardan at the Hollow Hall party.

In addition to Jude and co being unbearably bad spies, the one other major failing of the book is that it starts at the point when Jude stops giving a shit and starts fighting back. For the majority of her childhood, Jude has sat with Taryn under tables and hidden in balconies at feasts, bowed her head and bit her tongue to Cardan, and generally kept a low profile when the faeries are asshats to her. At the start of CP, Jude decides she's had enough and enters her rebellious teenage phase. Taryn says multiple times in CP that Jude fighting back "isn't like you" and is a new bad idea Jude hasn't had before. This is reinforced in The Lost Sisters. But we don't really get much of a glimpse of Jude's previously meek behavior, except at the first feast when she curtsies to Cardan. Because of this, Jude starts off in feisty rage mode, which rather lessens the effect of said mode because we don't have anything to compare it to. I wish CP had started a little earlier, so we could get a better contrast and also a better idea of how Jude survived this long if she's willing to push everyone's buttons.

It's very clear that Cardan was attracted to Jude even when he was with Nicasia, which much have pissed him off to no end. I'm so curious when he started developing feelings for Jude.

I didn't notice this so much in WK, but in CP Cardan and Jude's contrasting approaches to alcohol speaks volumes about their personalities. Jude has a low alcohol tolerance and wouldn't drink anyways because she likes to always be in control of herself and always be in a sane frame of mind. She feels like she always needs to be on her toes and can never truly relax (and is in fact kind of creeped out by how relaxed and chill she was at Locke's house). Cardan drinks in excess because he hates his life and if he's drunk he can basically forget about it. Jude is constantly aware of her shitty situation and makes copious efforts to improve it by any means possible. Cardan is unmotivated to improve his shitty situation because he believes there is no way to fix or improve it, so might as well get drunk and have fun.

It will never cease to amuse me that one of Cardan's demands in exchange for helping Jude and co stop Balekin is all the alcohol in the palace. Like, damn.

I love the part when Jude and Cardan are in class the day after she snuck into Hollow Hall and saw Balekin beat him, and she realizes he's actually in a lot of pain but pretending to be his usual chill, snarky self. And she realizes that there's been plenty of times he's come to class and has pretended he's fine when he isn't, just like her. It's a nice moment early-ish on where Jude starts to understand that she and Cardan have more in common than she'd like to think.

It's also a great scene when Jude finally tells Cardan the exact circumstances of Valerian's death. Cardan says he assumed Jude had hunted down and murdered Valerian, and I rather like that Cardan had begun to think the worst of Jude in the same way that she thought the worst of him. When she holds him at knife's point at the end of the coronation, she realizes she's smirking in the same way that Cardan usually did to her. So there's some nice continued role reversal where Cardan is taking on Jude's worst case scenario expectations. When Jude explains that Valerian actually tried to kill her again and came pretty close, Cardan realizes that he had misunderstood Jude's character. Holly Black has said that Cardan is the only person who truly understands Jude, and I think that moment is when Cardan really starts to get Jude and how she operates. He understands that Jude isn't actually as mean and nasty as she's been pretending to be, and that she must have given Valerian quite a few chances for him to have nearly strangled her.

Not a new note, but Vivi's decision to give zero fucks about anything Madoc cares about is amazing and a beauty to witness. The fact that she has maintained and sustained this kind of rebellion for ten years is honestly life goals.

Returning to the B&N short story, I quite like Kaye and I hope she and Jude become friends. But I really don't get the Kaye/Roiben dynamic. I don't think the story did a great job of making their relationship convincing, in part because the story got majorly sidetracked with playing voyeur to Jude and Cardan. Which was my favorite part of the story, but still. This is Kaye's short story, not Jude and Cardan's.

I have SO. MANY. QUESTIONS about the Ghost's motivations. After the coronation massacre, everyone is upset, but the Roach is mostly upset that they now have literally nothing without Dain while the Ghost is mostly upset that Dain is dead. So the Ghost is loyal to Dain, whereas the rest of the Court of Shadows were mostly opportunistic and loyal to the power and money that Dain could offer them. But then why would the Ghost side with Balekin and the Undersea in WK? Balekin literally killed Dain. He stabbed him straight through the chest. I can see the Ghost thinking Jude and Cardan and shitty rulers, but I can't fathom him siding with Balekin. There is clearly other things going on that will be explained in QoN, but right now I am a very confused person.

So it wasn't clear to me until after I reread CP that the original Hollow Hall plan was to drug Madoc and then have him fall asleep at the party while Jude was in the hallway letting the Court in through the window. It wasn't Jude's original intent for Madoc to follow her out, and their duel was her improvising to delay Madoc until the poison took effect. So the OG plan was just for Madoc to collapse in the party in front of everyone and for Balekin to just think this was fine and normal?! I would think that would totally freak Balekin out and maybe even lead him to cancel the party immediately, which would ruin Jude's plan.

Where are the other faerie lands?? Where do the other courts live? Jude has literally only ever been to the islands of Elfhame, but there's this massive faerie world out there that she's heard about but never been to. I'm so curious, and I have a good feeling we'll find out in QoN since the setting is ice and snow.

By the way, super curious also about how Cardan has a copy of Alice in Wonderland in his room. I guess he sees Alice as a Jude parallel. Is he more curious about Alice, the intruder in Wonderland, or about the inhabitants of Wonderland themselves? Everyone keeps commenting that Jude and Taryn's situation is like a fairytale come to life, but I think it's interesting to view their situation through an Alice in Wonderland lens. In the book, Wonderland is insane because it literally runs on dream logic, nothing makes sense, and Alice spends the entire book attempting and failing to apply human logic and reasoning to the madness she encounters. But what if Wonderland wasn't a dream, and what if Alice couldn't go back home in the end? What if Alice had to stay in Wonderland forever?

Every time Cardan tells Jude that she doesn't belong in Faerie and should leave, all I can think about is in WK, when he tells her, "I wasn't sure if I wanted you or wanted you gone from my sight so I that I would stop feeling as I did." Having read that in WK, it's so interesting to go back and see those moments in CP where Cardan is trying to get Jude to leave Faerie so he can forget about her and move on. 

When Jude first starts trying to make alliances with other courts, we get this great line: “’Take care’ he [Cardan] says, then smiles. ‘It would be very dull to have to sit here for an entire day just because you went and got yourself killed.’” Cardan admitted earlier to Jude that he smiles when he’s nervous, and I’m convinced that’s why he’s smiling here. He tells her to take care because he’s genuinely worried about her safety. Then he has an ‘oh shit my feelings are showing’ moment and backtracks by covering his slip up with an insult.