#every training event ever has sandwiches and it’s never ones I like

[foldingfittedsheets]

I don't remember how long ago it was, but recently in one of your posts you mentioned you can't eat wheat in the US but you can eat it fine in European countries. This morning my mom was reading an article about how even organic grains are sprayed with glyphosate to dry it faster. It's banned in many European countries because it's a known potential carcinogen. Some people with gluten intolerance are actually sensitive to glyphosate and can eat European wheat just fine. I just think it's interesting and you might want to look into it to see what you think

Yeah at the moment we’re gonna aim for French or Italian flour when we boot up the program.

But since I’m experiencing severe anxiety about travel and training, I decided to postpone the elimination until things settle down slightly in my life. It’s easier to make food changes when I’m not getting forced to eat sandwiches so frequently.

[thedroneranger]

A Little Time Alone

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Précis: Bradley and his wife have been busy with everything except each other.

Note: One of two entires for @roosterforme’s #love is in the air tgm love song playlist challenge. This fic is inspired by Luke Comb's The Kind of Love We Make.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 3.7k

It had been weeks since we spent any time together. 

Between the new curriculum and latest batch of pilots, I was coming home late every night and leaving early every morning.

At first, she was doing her damnedest to stay up until I got home. Each night, before sliding into bed, I would slip her tablet from her clutches and remove her askew reading glasses, placing both on her nightstand. Once I settled into bed, unconsciously, she would snuggle into me, allowing me to fall asleep with a smile.

However, lately, it was clear she had been sleeping for hours. Tucked into bed, fast asleep with just her hair peeking between the bedding. I would slide into my side and do my best not to disturb her.

Each morning, I didn’t leave without giving her a goodbye kiss, but guilt always edged my decision to not wake her. Instead, I would press my lips to her forehead or cheek, whichever was exposed.

Things seemed to take a turn after her plan to surprise me with lunch on base was foiled. Normally, she would coordinate with Maverick, if he were around, or the security guard she had befriended to sneak into my office with sandwiches from our favorite deli.

Of course, she always wore a dress, which made it easy for me to bend her over my desk for a pleasurable finish. 

We had a text code so I knew to expect her. The last time she plotted a lunchtime date, I, unbeknownst, stood her up. Unable to check my texts all morning, I never saw her message and never went to my office. It wasn’t until later in the evening I saw several messages and a couple missed calls. 

I was devastated and wanted to apologize in person. However, she was always asleep when I got home. I even tried to call a few times during the day, but I never managed to catch her. After that, we exchanged fewer and fewer texts throughout each day. 

Even our weekends had been spent separately. I found myself on base more and more for special events and training. Hell, the last couple weekends, I even slept there.

She, on the other hand, has been a godsend, representing us both at family get-togethers and other personal events.

I can only imagine how she felt, likely making up excuses for my lack of presence.

The whole situation made me absolutely miserable.

“Bradley. Bradley. Bradley!” My head jerked to find Maverick intensely staring at me.

“Yeah, Mav?” I coughed to clear my throat and gave him my full attention.

He and I were alone in his office. Maverick and I were co-instructors for an upcoming class. We were going over the lesson plan when my thoughts drifted. “What’s on your mind, Bradley?” Mav put down his pen, leaned back in his chair and looked at me.

Shifting in my chair, I noticed the tension in my shoulders and that I’d been holding my breath. Subtly untensing, I spoke. “I can’t remember the last time I spent time with my wife, and she’s getting distant.”

Maverick leaned forward. He loved her like a daughter. Actually, I was convinced he liked her more than me. Mav was always reminding me not to let work ruin our relationship. 

Not that he had room to talk. 

Although, he and Penny have appeared rock solid since getting back together. Once Maverick proposed and they wed, Penny was the happiest I’ve ever seen her.

“Bradley—”

I cut off Mav. “I know, I know. Don’t fuck it up.”

“Go home,” he said.

“What?” My eyebrow cocked.

“Go home. Report back on Monday,” Mav said. We stared at each other for almost a full minute. “Go fix it.” The tone in Mav’s voice told me he was about to make it an order, so I nodded, gave a quick salute and dashed out.

Not having been home at a decent hour in nearly a month, I forgot what traffic was like. It had me doubting if I would be home any earlier than as of late. 

Her vehicle was in the driveway when I finally pulled up.

My feet were carrying me faster than my brain was processing. My mind was trying to get my hands under control so I could get the key in the door, when the door flung open.

A gasp left her lips as our gazes locked. “Hey, stranger.” She did her best to hide a smirk. Unfazed, I walked toward her, forcing her to back up and allow me into the house. Once far enough in, I closed the door. 

“Hey,” I replied. My eyes raked across her form. She was wearing a short red sundress and some strappy sandals. My cock twitched. I could not recall the last time I saw her in anything other than our fluffy duvet. 

“I should go—I don’t want to be late.” She walked toward me and got on her toes to kiss my cheek. However, I turned my head and captured her lips with mine. She hesitated for a second, but melted into me as I wrapped an arm around her waist and the other hugged her ribcage. Her hand slid from my bicep up to my neck. 

We separated just enough to look into each other’s eyes. “I hate that I forgot what you feel like,” she said. 

The comment made me hold her tighter. “We can’t have that,” I said as a matter of fact. Her eyebrow and lips quirked. I smiled at her. “I’ve been missing you more than you can imagine,” I confessed.

She was still looking at me with a tight smile. “I may have an idea.” She pursed her lips and looked off the side. Then, she looked back at me and pressed her lips to mine. As we kissed, I uncoiled an arm from around her, so I could reach back to lock the door.

She heard the click. “I have to go,” she said with her lips still against mine. 

Again, we separated just enough to look at one another. “Cancel.” My voice was more demanding than either of us expected. She looked surprised but not offended. “We need a little time alone.” I sounded softer. “So tonight, I’m only gonna be your man,” I told her. She raised an eyebrow. “I’m off the entire weekend.”

“Bradley Alexander—” She was ready to scold me for messing with her. 

“Scout’s honor.” I held my fingers up in the Eagle Scout sign. We stared at each other. “There’s no way I’m leaving this house, especially when you look this good.” My hand dropped lower to squeeze her backside. She dropped her head trying to hide the blush in her cheeks as if I’d never seen it before.

“Go shower,” she said. My grip on her loosened so she could step away. “I’m not spending the evening huffing jet fuel.” She looked my attire up and down. I left in such a rush, I still had my flight suit on. 

Extra swagger in her hips, she sauntered to the kitchen. For a split second, I considered following her and bending her over the nearest surface. But tonight called for something slower, softer than a counter quickie.

Instead, I went to our ensuite bathroom and let the water pressure ease my muscles. Soothed by the water and steam, I lost track of time. When I realized, I hopped out, did a quick shave and dressed.

We were home, but she was wearing that sinful sundress, so I at least wanted to wear something I knew she’d love. I put on my favorite pair of worn jeans, a white tank and an Aloha shirt I knew was one of her favorites. 

I padded downstairs, noticing the lights were low and she’d lit candles. A smile turned my lips when I heard Led Zeppelin IV spinning on the record player—I thought about the countless times we made out to this soundtrack.

When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks. She was sitting on our small breakfast table, palm supporting her, head tilted back, wine glass to her lips. One leg ran the radius of the table while the other hung off at the knee. Her heel popping to the beat of the music.

She turned to look at me. “Wine?” She held out her glass. I shook my head as a coy smile pulled a corner of my mouth. She winked as she polished off the last sip in her glass.

As I approached the table, she shifted so she was facing me and placed the glass at her side. Stepping between her legs, I pushed the glass further back. A hand on either side of her, I leaned so we were at eye level. 

Her hand cupped the side of my jaw, and her thumb ran along my lips. Mindlessly, I pressed a kiss to it. The tiniest smile curled the corners of her mouth as she searched my face. I hummed as her fingers traversed the raised skin of my scars and came to rest on the dip of my chest just below my clavicles. “Do you have any idea how handsome you are?” she asked.

Surely she felt my chest rumble as I chuckled. “Only when you tell me.” My voice was raspier than usual. Leaning further into her, I dropped my head to place soft kisses on her neck. 

“Surely other women tell you.” I knew exactly what she was doing. 

“I can assure you, they keep their thoughts to themselves,” I replied. Between kisses I told her about my latest class catching sight of her on base. It was the last time we had lunch together before our drought. A couple of them commented about a hot civilian. Turning, I found her chatting with Maverick. 

I told them the easiest way to not return from a mission was ogling another pilot’s spouse. One of the women who had been doing her damnedest to flirt with me blurted, “That’s your wife?!” I nodded at her with a wink. She paled and never looked me in the eye again.

The earned laugh that quickly morphed into a moan had me considering unzipping my pants and unceremoniously fucking her. But I had to pace myself. She was flat against the table, my body covering her with my forearms holding me up as I kissed whatever exposed skin was available. The raggedness of her breathing kept me going. 

“Do you know how hard it is for me not to wake you up every night at some ungodly hour?” I told her, picking my head up to see her response. 

Her bottom lip was between her teeth as her eyes twinkled in the low light. “Why wouldn’t you wake me up?” she asked. Her thighs were squeezing my hips, the skirt of her dress covering almost nothing. 

“First, you sleep through absolutely everything.” She chuckled as my hands skimmed her bare thighs. “We could be having a magnitude 10 earthquake, and you’d sleep through it.” She nodded in agreement as one of my hands slid between us. 

I froze. “Where are your underwear?” She never went commando without a purpose. 

She propped herself up on her elbows. “Maybe I was hoping you would be home, in bed, when I returned. And I could wake you up.” She paused. “If you came home.” Her gaze was intense.

My smile faltered and my head dropped with my shoulders in a moment of guilt. Quickly, I looked back up at her. “I’m sorry.” Still gripping her thigh, my thumb drew circles on it. 

“Show me,” she said.

“Excuse me?” I had expected her to scold me or for us to get into a deep conversation about the past month.

She moved my hand from her thigh to between her legs. “Actions speak louder than words.” Expertly, she maneuvered my hand to guide two fingers into her. “Show me how sorry you are. How much you’ve missed me.”

For a minute, I froze. Tired of waiting for me, she wrapped her hand around my wrist to slide my fingers in and out of her. Finally, I got a hold of myself, my thumb pressing to her swollen bundle of nerves and the pads of my fingers stimulating that spongy spot inside. Her breath caught as I took over.

“That’s it, honey.” She melted against the table. “Let’s take it nice and slow.” She clenched around my fingers—I thought I might come right then. “Fuck,” I said under my breath. She smiled as she watched me squeeze my eyes shut. 

Back on her elbows, her fingers snuck into my hair and pulled me until our lips connected. My lips parted just enough to allow her tongue in. It toyed with mine, matching the rhythm of my fingers pumping in and out of her. Her lips left mine with a smack. “Bradley,” she moaned as I alternated between scissoring my fingers and curling them against her G spot.

“That’s it,” I cooed, keeping the same pace and pattern. I could feel her tightening around my fingers. “Fuck,” I breathed out, enjoying the feel of her. My lips fell to her neck, knowing the additional contact would send her over the edge. 

The stutter breath she let out matched her contractions around my fingers. “That’s it, honey.” I watched her face as she went through her high, my fingers keeping pace. As she untensed, I slowed to a stop. She looked at me as she steadied her breathing and a smile appeared. She continued to watch as I cleaned her from my fingers. Immediately, she pulled me down to taste herself.

She hummed as we separated. “Go pick another album. I wanted to make out with you on the couch.” My cock jumped from just the words leaving her mouth. Standing to my full height, I helped her off the table. 

She shooed me with her hands to the living room where my inherited record player was housed. I thumbed the sleeves until I found the perfect selection: The Velvet Underground’s Loaded.

As soon as the needle fell into the groove, she appeared with the bottle of wine. We both traipsed to the couch. She split the wine as I settled into the sofa. I accepted a glass and then beckoned her to sink into my side. Together, we sipped and listened to the opening song. 

As the next began to play, she placed our empty glasses on the coffee table and straddled my lap. My hands came to rest on the tops of her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher to expose more skin. She shimmied even closer to me, so she was at even more of a height advantage—my head was tipped almost completely back. 

Her fingers sifted through my locks, her nails massaging my scalp. A deep breath I didn’t even realize I was holding escaped my parted lips. She smiled as she watched me relax. My eyes were practically in the back of my head, her massage turning my mind to mush.

She tugged my hair, which earned a moan and caused me to shift under her. She ground against me, the stiff seams of my jeans caressing her most sensitive spot. I let her roll my head to the side so she had better access to pepper kisses along my neck. She continued to grind against my denim-clad crotch. Boy, did I wish there were less fabric between us. 

My fingers dug into her thighs as she sank her teeth into my neck. “Christ,” I said under my breath. She sat back and eyed me, proud of the reaction she got. Her thumb passed over the spot that would surely be purple later. “Maybe your students will have fewer questions come Monday.” Before I could say anything, she leaned in and sweetly pressed her lips to mine. 

“You’re such a sour patch kid,” I teased. She smiled at the nickname while she nipped my lips and swirled her tongue against mine. At the same time, her hands were busy unfastening my jeans. She climbed off my lap, and I lifted my hips to help her rid me of my garments. 

Climbing back into my lap, her knees bracketed my hips and the tops of her feet contoured the curve of my thighs. Her core rested against my length. I wanted nothing more than to guide myself into her.

“It’s really unfair you look this good in such a silly print.” Her fingers followed the shoulder seams of my shirt to the collar. Using the points, she pulled me back in for a kiss. As we separated, her hands dipped under my collar and over my shoulders to help shed the cloth. 

Once that was off, she took advantage of a tiny hole I hadn't noticed in my tank. Penetrating it with her finger, she pulled and the fabric easily gave way. I watched as the hole grew and she fisted the fabric to snap it at the hems. She untangled me from the ruined garment and dropped it to the floor. 

My arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer and hands palming her backside through her dress. Her hips lifted, and with one hand, she guided me into her. Slowly, she returned to her resting position. A sigh left my mouth as I felt her adjusting to me.

“Honey,” I trailed off as she squeezed me a couple times. We kept eye contact as she began to slowly lift and lower herself. The pace quickened just a bit as she fell into rhythm with the music.

As she kept going, my hands slipped under her dress and began to pull it up until it was over her head. Once it was off, my mouth immediately found one of her nipples. The moan that left her lips was euphoric. 

It made me bite her harder. She let out something between a moan and cry as her nails sank into my shoulders. I hissed, enjoying the burn as she scored my skin.

She was frustrated, and I wanted every bit of that energy. 

Not wanting to miss any of it, I coiled an arm back around her waist and easily flipped us so she was laying on the couch parallel with the cushions. 

Her doe eyes stared up at me, filled with surprise. My quirked lip grew to a smirk, as I anchored a hand on the cushion beside her head and the other on the couch back. My hips began to rock, setting a new pace for us. The lust came back to her gaze as her soft thighs met my hips and her heels found purchase in the dimples of my ass. 

I held it together as her nails gently ran from the top of my cock to just under my pecs and back. Her touch was soft but firm enough not to tickle. I flexed a little extra. 

Watching her breasts bounce with each thrust was enamoring. Her breathy gasps each time I bottomed out were the only noise I was hearing. My eyes sank as she stopped touching me and started touching herself. 

My pace stayed the same, but my gaze was trapped where we connected. I slid in and out while her digits swirled along her swollen nerves. My hips stuttered from the added pleasure as her index and forefingers made a V around the base of cock. “Fuck me,” I whined. 

She smiled. “No, you’re fucking me,” she corrected. We laughed together. 

“I missed this so, so much,” I confessed. Wanting to be closer to her, I sank to my elbows. I tucked my palm behind her head, letting my fingers sift through her hair. Her eyes were hooded as she looked at me through her lashes. 

We locked gazes as she took a deep breath and moved her hands to my waist, her nails sinking into the flesh just above my hips. At the same time, I felt her entire lower half contract, thighs hugging me and core convulsing. 

“Bradley.” My name was long and drawn out as it left her lips. It was enough to make me spill into her. I breathed her name into the crook of her neck as I curled my arm under her head, my elbow became her head rest, to hug her whole body as close as possible. Her hand ran up my side and hooked around my shoulder. 

I followed her name with a pleasurable hiss as her teeth sank into the meat of my shoulder. She punctuated the action with a tender kiss. The first of several she trailed into the crook of my neck as we rode out our orgasms.

Just as we came down from our high, the record ended. “Perfect timing.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling out and heading to the record player. She whined, but turned to enjoy the view as I walked away. Patiently, she waited as I flipped the vinyl and put it back on the player. I lined up the needle perfectly, and immediately the opening notes seeped out of the speakers. 

By the time I was headed back to the couch, she was standing beside it. “Should we change the dress code in the house to birthday suits only?” I pressed my body to hers, enjoying the full frontal contact and handful of her ass I grabbed. She squeaked and arched her back. My lips covered hers to distract from her attempt to escape. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled into her lips. 

We parted just far enough to look one another in the eyes. Her expression was playful. “Apology accepted.” I squeezed her around her ribcage and stuck my face in the crook of her neck. Although we were stark naked, our hug was earnest. 

As we separated, she held my biceps, keeping us close. “Let’s go upstairs so you can keep doing what you’re doing to me all night long.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Together, we blew out all the candles, and then walked upstairs hand-in-hand.

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[damiano-mylove]

Members of Måneskin with a mentally ill/disordered S/O

Illnesses included: Depression, ADD, Tourette's and PTSD (so warnings for that and SH, drug usage, isolation, and heavy topics in general) *Masterlist*

This was a collaborative effort between Nik, Lina, Lute and two unnamed but very appreciated people - all of us afflicted with the varying illnesses above

Vic

Vic would take an empathetic approach to your illness/disorder (relating to you, researching, never pitying)

Depression

Vic would take a more of a nurturing role to your sadness

On the more sad days, Vic would nap with you for a little bit but she'd get to a point where enough would be enough

She would coax you out of bed in ways that appeal to you more than you'd ever care to admit, starting out with just getting you to eat somewhere else than in bed, then eventually moving up to showering, etcetera, etcetera

Vic would be very acutely tuned toward your needs, and she always fulfilled

It broke her heart that you were so sad, but she could relate and that made it a lighter burden on your back

When you first told her, Vic just went silent, then hugged you for a long time

ADD

Vic wouldn't be as supportive in this, but not in a neglectful way

She had a way of getting your attention back on the topic at hand, but sometimes she was just as bad as you for getting away from the main point

The impulsivity, she wasn't the biggest fan of, but you two worked through it like adults

When you'd forget things, Vic wouldn't get annoyed - but she would always remind you when you forgot what you needed to remember

Also, she was the best for finding misplaced things

PTSD

Vic would be very careful to avoid your triggers, however she never felt as if she was walking on eggshells

Before you were able to fully tell her what happened, Vic would never force you to tell her anything you weren't already ready to tell her of your own accord

There was no way she couldn't feel a bit sorry for you, but she never showed it, and she certainly didn't pity you - she just was sorry that something happened to you to give you PTSD

She would be mindful to never act as if she would be able to fix you

Tourette's

It didn't annoy her as much as you thought it surely would - especially since you had been trying to keep the tics at bay in the beginning of your relationship

Vic usually went on like nothing happened when you'd tic, but sometimes she'd laugh if your tics would hit her

Vic would proudly go out with you, even though you were scared about the looks you'd get on the street, but she never minded because she loved you and she wanted to show you that she loved you

Thomas

Thomas would take a supportive approach to your illness/disorder (reminding you to take your meds, making appointments for you if you'd ask, doing anything he could to make you feel better)

Depression

Thomas would always be the perfect person who would just shut the fuck up and cuddle you, but he would only do it if you'd ask because he knew sometimes you didn't feel like being around people

Wasn't really trained in any of this so he just cared for you like he'd like to be cared for

He was doing his best, and it was apparent, but sometimes you'd have to tell him what not to do and what to do

Of course, Thomas wouldn't bat an eye to stop or start doing anything at the raise of your finger - whether it be rub your back or let you be alone for a bit

He understood that he alone could not cure your depression, but he understood that he would be around for the ride, if you would have him

When you first told Thomas, he was silent, just nodding. He asked you a few very respectful questions but would never dream of pushing you. He would rub your knee and assure you of his love for you, no matter what

ADD

Honestly, Thomas didn't know what ADD was, at first

He googled it, then thought better to just ask you for a primary source

During nights where you couldn't sleep, Thomas would be right beside you, not sleeping either, which wasn't healthy for either of you, but it sure as Hell made you feel less lonely

Thomas lost shit and things all the time, so he never judged you for that, and his memory was potentially worse than yours so who was he to speak on that

But he was extremely good at getting you to finish tasks before moving on (sometimes just finishing them himself)

PTSD

Again, didn't exactly know what it entailed at first, but asked you a few questions to clear the air

Thomas would lead you through deep breathing exercises (unless you told him not to) when you were triggered and started losing control

Would always do anything and everything he could to avoid triggers with you

He would he more than patient with you

Tourette's

He would find some of your tics endearing (not harmful ones)

At one point, you'd even developed a verbal tic saying Thomas' name, which he always chuckled at and responded to you every single time as if you'd requested his presence, each time with a new pet name and a smile

If your tics would hit him by accident, you would apologize profusely, but Thomas would always laugh and brush it off

During tic attacks, he knew to just let you be, unless you would stop breathing, then he would certainly step in

He would ask his doctor a "hypothetical" about how to help someone through a tic attack, then used that advice forevermore, and it usually made a helpful difference

Ethan

Ethan would take a companion role (letting you take the lead, showing him what would happen and what to do to help, always listening to you before making his own move)

Depression

He'd dealt with depression before, but thoroughly understood that everyone is different in how they display mental illness

Ethan would recognize what to do, but would ask you for confirmation before acting upon anything that had potential to make a difference

On days where you couldn't leave your bed, he would bring you food (not a steak dinner, but he would definitely bring you soup or toast or a sandwich)

On days where you couldn't shower, he'd either be in the shower with you, or he'd draw you a bath instead, or he'd buy dry shampoo and sanitary wipes (those would be the last case, because he didn't want to throw off your pH)

He would assure you of his love and that you didn't burden him whatsoever

You were suffering, and you didn't make him suffer, but he did take some of that suffering from you

ADD

Certain times, I regret to say, he may get slightly annoyed, but not for long and not to the point of icing you out or anything

Ethan always found things to keep your mind occupied (watching Monty Python (actually a great programme for AD(H)D people), intricate games, new books, etc)

The best at finding lost things, and also has the best memory under the sun

Your symptoms wouldn't bother Ethan, save for constantly speaking (which can get a little annoying during a film or something)

PTSD

Would basically just go one with life - he would avoid all things relating to your triggers and PTSD - but otherwise, it would be business as per usual

If you got triggered, he would be by your side and on your side

He would do anything; deep breathing, distractions, grounding, getting your meds, anything

Ethan would always let you speak about it, when you'd want to, but otherwise treated you the exact same way as he had before you told him

Tourette's

He's always looking for something to joke about, and sometimes your tics provide just the material

He wouldn't dream of taking the piss out of the harmful or mean tics, but if you were laughing, then he was sure to be laughing as well

If your tics involved a bird whistle, he'd call you his 'little red bird' but wouldn't anymore if that upset you

Tourette's are a tough subject to joke about, but Ethan would always listen if you told him it was offensive, unfunny, or just a bad joke and Ethan would always take it in good humour and apologize

Most of the time though, he could make some funny fucking comments

Damiano

Damiano would take a nonchalant approach (not explicitly talking about it, never take the spotlight off you (if he could help it), try his best to help you through any challenges without making you feel like you were an inconvenience to him

Depression

He was your best friend before he was your lover

As such, you were always able to talk to Damiano about your depression anytime you felt it getting bad, as to warn him

Damiano would never leave your side, unless you told him to, but he'd always have a film on in the back, or he'd play with your hair, or distract you by brushing your hair or having you help him pick out an outfit

He enjoyed cleaning, so your bedroom would never become a depression room, and that helped get you out of your slumps most of the time

Dami was also swimmingly good at getting you up, even if it be just for a dance in the moonlight then back to bed, or a walk around the block then on the couch

He understood wanting to cope, but if you were prone to drug usage, Damiano would totally discourage it and stop you from using as best he could

ADD

Not everyday is a trip to Disney, but with Damiano, it is

Damiano always had new records to catch your fancy, he'd always have some home project lined up for the two of you, he'd always let you do extravagant things with makeup on his face

It seemed if you lost something, Dami would find it, but if Damiano lost something, you would find it (good system actually)

Would always have reminders in his phone so he would add reminders for you on his phone (appointments, birthdays, events)

Damiano seemed to always have just the trick to get you to sleep, even when you felt like you physically couldn't

PTSD

After you told him, Damiano would immediately avoid the topic in future conversations

He would support you fully during any trigger or episode, but he never treated you any differently at all just because you have PTSD

It hurt him that something hurt you so badly, but he took it all in a deep breath - after all, he signed up for you, all of you, so he certainly wouldn't give up on you just because of a disorder

Damiano would be in your corner 100%, and you knew it and you knew you could always go to him

Tourette's

Some tics would get that beautiful smile on his face, but otherwise he continued conversations like nothing ever happened

He didn't bat an eye at a physical tic, not a verbal tic

But he was the man to go to during a tic attack

He wouldn't treat you like a science experiment, or like an insane asylum patient - he treated you with love and support, like no one else ever had

Damiano had read about a dozen books on how to support people with Tourette's, and he'd also talked to other people he knew who had Tourette's - Damiano was thoroughly educated on how to help you, the love of his life

headass this was hard to fuckin write and i know its shitty and the cw’s are a bunch and i cut it but im sorry and hope its good enough

[intheticklecloset]

Some Kind of Way (My Hero Academia)

ShinDeku AU

Summary: Shinsou begins to realize he may have feelings for Deku, and it makes him act so out of the ordinary that his crush decides the best way to help him relax is the very thing that kickstarted his feelings in the first place.

A/N: I am so unbelievably excited to finally share this with you! This one has been waiting in the wings for quite a while! Welcome to the first fic in my official ShinDeku AU! This story takes place after the events of "Say Mercy" and creates an entirely new storyline. While these two remain good friends in the Primary Universe, in this AU, things go a little differently.

I will admit this is pretty self-indulgent, but I know I'll want to keep writing for these boys, and what better excuse than to create an alternate reality in which they get together? Cute boyfriends and lots of tickling - what more could you want? I hope you enjoy! <3 <3

Word Count: 2,275

~~~

Midoriya: Video games at my place! Kaminari and Todoroki are coming – do you wanna join??

Shinsou stared at his phone screen for so long it went dark on him three times. He’d nearly forgotten that at some point he and Deku had exchanged numbers. Their spring break had just started; today was Monday, which meant that Deku’s mom was probably at work right now, as it was just after ten in the morning.

It really shouldn’t have been this hard to reply to a text. Yet here he sat, struggling to do just that.

It’s video games, Shinsou berated himself. You’ve played video games with him before. That’s what you were doing the last time you hung out. Just answer his text!

Shinsou: Yes. I don’t know where you live, though.

Midoriya: I’ll send you the details! Can’t wait!! :D

Shinsou set his phone aside, heart racing. This is ridiculous. What’s happening to me? He rubbed his eyes tiredly, his mind flashing back to the last time he’d hung out with Deku. They’d gotten into a tickle fight, which he’d ultimately won, but there had been a…a moment. When he’d pinned Deku for the last time and ordered him to beg for mercy. The way Deku had screamed the word over and over through hysterical fits of laughter…

He swallowed. It had been so satisfying, but more than that, it had been…cute. No, adorable. Completely, utterly adorable. Deku was adorable. And for the first time, Shinsou was noticing.

He tried not to think about it as he gathered up his things and walked out the door, heading to the destination the green-haired boy had provided him with.

*

Seeing him in person was so much worse.

Deku opened up the door with a bright smile and an invitation to come inside. It was the first time Shinsou had seen him without his school uniform or hero costume on. He wore a bright yellow All Might t-shirt and blue shorts, and he was barefoot. Shinsou awkwardly took his own shoes off in the entryway and followed him into the small living room, where Todoroki was already seated on the floor.

The icy-hot hero raised a hand in greeting. Shinsou nodded at him, then took a seat as well.

“Kaminari should be here any minute,” Deku said, pulling out his phone to check for a text from the blonde. “It’s so cool to finally have friends over at my place! Make yourselves at home. We’ve got juice and soda in the fridge if you want some, and later we can have lunch together, too.” Deku smiled so brightly it lit up the whole block. “Plus I’ll get to introduce you to a racing game that’s not Mario Kart for once!”

Shinsou couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He found himself noticing things more and more. The particular shade of green that his eyes were. The spattering of freckles across his face and arms. How scarred his right arm was. How muscular he was despite his smaller stature. Shinsou noticed all of it, and it made his heart beat faster and faster. Crap, crap, crap, he thought frantically. I…I’ve got a—

Someone knocked on the door, Deku hurried to answer it, and the spell was broken. Shinsou blinked several times. Seriously, what was happening to him?

“Heyyy, it’s my man Shinsou!” Kaminari greeted enthusiastically, slapping him on the back. “And Todoroki, of course. Ready to lose some video games?”

Shinsou let out a sigh of relief, then smirked up at him. “The joke’s on you, Kaminari. Midoriya says we’re not playing Mario Kart.”

“Dude, what?” Kaminari whipped around to face Deku. It was so much easier to look at him with Kaminari in the room as well. “You can’t take my crown away like that!”

Deku grinned. “I’m introducing you to a different racing game. Kacchan and I play it sometimes – Team Sonic Racing!”

“Sonic has a racing game?” Kaminari asked, then hummed. “Well, he is a speedy little guy. I guess it makes sense.”

“Team racing?” Todoroki asked. “What does that mean?”

Deku lit up at the question, then launched into a long, rambling explanation of all the ways it differed from Mario Kart, and why it was superior, as well. After a little while they finally got to the actual playing part of it, and before they knew it, the morning hours were long gone.

*

Getting lost in the world of Team Sonic Racing did wonders for Shinsou’s mind. He was able to focus on something that wasn’t Deku, for once – even if Deku’s character of choice did cause him a lot of trouble during the races. It gave him a chance to calm down, clear his head, and get back to his normal self. At least, until a couple of hours later when it was lunchtime.

Kaminari had announced early on that he had lunch plans with some others from their class, so it was expected that he’d leave after a couple of hours. But it was a surprise to both Shinsou and Deku when Todoroki announced he was also leaving.

“My apologies,” he said, “but I got a text from my sister that asked me to meet her downtown for lunch with her and my brother. I’m…trying to get back in touch with them, as it were. I can’t really do that while I’m at the dorms.”

“That’s okay,” Deku said, sounding sincere. “I understand. Go have fun with your family.” Then he turned to Shinsou. “Do you want to stay, or do you have somewhere to be?”

Shinsou’s heart was racing again. He was about to be alone with Midoriya again.

“I…I can stay,” he said, nodding. “If that’s all right with you.”

“Of course!”

After bidding farewell to their other friends, Deku led Shinsou back into the kitchen and opened up the fridge, pulling out various things they could use to make sandwiches. Shinsou got the bread out of the pantry (after struggling for a few moments to even find the pantry), and soon they were both at work making lunch for themselves.

“How’s your spring break so far?” Deku asked.

“It’s…fine,” Shinsou murmured. He didn’t really have anything exciting to report on. “You?”

“Great! I kind of took it easy this weekend because All Might insisted I actually rest, but we trained together this morning before I invited you over for video games. We’ll train again tomorrow, too.”

Shinsou glanced at him. “It’s spring break.”

“I know, but I don’t want to stop training. I’ve got to work as hard as I can to get even stronger.”

“Rest is important, too, you know.”

Deku smiled. “You sound just like everyone else.”

“Because we’re right.”

“I’m resting more than I’m training this week. Don’t worry, Shinsou. I won’t burn myself out.”

Shinsou nodded. “Good.”

“So,” Deku continued, expertly changing the topic as he finished up his sandwich, “want to play some more after lunch? Or we could watch a movie or something instead. What do you want to do?”

“Um…” Shinsou hesitated. Again that image of Deku laughing and begging entered his mind. He shoved it away. “I…I don’t know. Midoriya,” he added quickly, before he lost his nerve, “why do you want to hang out with me so much?”

Deku went silent for a moment. “Because you’re my friend? And you’re really cool! I think it’s so awesome that you want to join the hero course, and your quirk is so useful, especially with that voice changer thing you have now, and—”

“Useful?” Shinsou turned to look at him, surprised. “No one’s ever called my quirk useful before.”

“Then no one’s really known you before,” Deku replied confidently, taking his first bite of his lunch. “Mmm, this is good! What’d you make?”

Shinsou glanced down at his half-finished sandwich and reached for some lunch meat. “To be determined.”

*

When they’d finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, Shinsou and Deku went back into the living room, where Team Sonic Racing sat waiting for them on the screen, should they continue to play it.

“Are you okay, Shinsou?” Deku asked, his voice gentler now. “You seem bothered about something.”

Dear god, was he really so easy to read? Shinsou cleared his throat. “No, I’m fine. I’m just…” He searched for the words. How could he explain to Deku that he was pretty sure he had a crush…on Deku? “I’m just…I don’t know. Fine.”

“You know, if you’re not up for video games anymore, we could play a different game,” Deku said. Shinsou glanced up at him, hearing the teasing tone in his voice, and his eyes widened when he saw the green-haired boy wiggling his fingers and smiling wide.

Instant. Blush.

“Uh, I-I mean…I mean, i-if you…want to, then…” Shinsou stammered, hating every word he tripped over. It had never been difficult for him to speak to Midoriya before. Why was it suddenly the hardest thing he’d ever done?

“Actually, maybe we shouldn’t have a tickle fight,” Deku announced even as he lunged for Shinsou and tackled him to the floor. “Maybe I should just tickle you! You really need to relax, Shinsou. You act like I’m about to bite you or something.”

“I d-dohohohohon’t – I cahahahahan’t help it!” he giggled, the light pinches along his sides and ribs enough to help him loosen up a little, but not enough to really make him panic just yet. He fell onto his back on the floor, letting Deku tickle all over his torso, drawing giggle after much-needed giggle out of him.

“You don’t have to be nervous around me,” Deku continued, oblivious to Shinsou’s struggle. “We’re friends! If you want to talk about something, I’m happy to listen.”

Crap, crap, crap! Shinsou brought his hands up to cover his face, growing really, truly flustered now. “I’m sohohohohohohorry, I cahahahahan’t – I cahahahaHAHAHAHAN’T!! NAHAHAHAHAHA!!” The violet-haired boy shot his arms down to try and shove Deku away when he reached his hips, squeezing with a wicked smirk on his face. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO!! MIDORYA!!”

“Relax, Shinsou~” Deku teased, swinging a leg over to straddle his friend and pin him more firmly in place, still squeezing his hips. “Sometimes it’s best to just laugh it all out, right?”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! GOD, MIHIHIHIHIDORIYA!! NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!” Shinsou cackled, twisting and writhing on the ground. “YOU KNOHOHOHOHOHOW IT’S BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAD THEHEHEHERE!!”

“Why do you think I’m tickling you there?” Deku laughed, too, finding his hip bones and pressing in deeply. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

“DOHOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T!!” Shinsou cried, flustered and embarrassed but also having a lot of fun despite himself. He let out a loud shriek and kicked his legs when Deku focused on that one spot that drove him absolutely crazy. “NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! MIDORIYAHAHAHAHA!!”

Deku chuckled. “Feeling better? Feeling relaxed yet, Shinsou?”

Shinsou squealed, prying his eyes open just enough to see Deku’s huge smile, his bright eyes, his looming form over him, and the boy from 1-C simply could not take it anymore. “PLEHEHEHEASE!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!! MIDORIYA, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! MERCY!! MERCY MERCY MERCYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!”

Deku stopped, but didn’t climb off of him. Shinsou gasped for breath and looked up at him, still giggling, surprised to see a tiny blush on the boy’s freckled cheeks. He blinked a few times. “M-Midoriya?”

“I…I’m s-sorry, I, uh…” Deku stammered, blinking as well. His cheeks got even pinker. “Oh! I’ll let you go—”

Shinsou reached up faster than either of them could think and grabbed onto Deku’s arms, stopping him from climbing off just yet. He forced himself to make eye contact with the smaller boy, and when he did, what he saw there gave him the encouragement he needed to finally get this off of his chest.

“Midoriya,” he said quietly, “I think I need to tell you something.”

Deku swallowed. He suddenly seemed nervous, too. “Y-Yeah?”

Shinsou’s heart was pounding against his ribcage. “I…I kind of…like you. Like…you know. That way.”

Deku let out a little gasp in response, but he never broke eye contact. His cheeks went from pink to red. “I…I t-think I like you, too, Shinsou…”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Shinsou finally moved to sit up, wrapping an arm around Deku’s back to keep him from falling over as he did so, and when he was upright again the two of them were face-to-face. Shinsou’s eyes flicked all over Deku’s blushing features, from his shining eyes down to his lips and back up again. Then he brought his free hand up to scribble against the smaller boy’s side.

Deku immediately smiled wide, giggling slightly, and Shinsou’s suspicions were confirmed. “Ugh, you’re adorable,” he muttered, pulling him into a bear hug and burying his face in his shoulder. “You know that? Adorable, Midoriya.”

“I-I think you’re cute, too,” Deku stammered, sounding incredibly flustered.

“Only cute?” Shinsou teased, digging his fingertips into the boy’s ribs, feeling him jolt in his arms but holding him tightly all the same. “Wow, and after I just poured my heart out to you.”

“Ahahahahaha nohohohohohoho! I’m sohohohohohorry!” Deku squealed, giggling and squirming but unable to go anywhere or protect himself. He tossed his head back and laughed freely. “You’re adohohohohohorable, too! Plehehehehehease, Shinsou!”

“Too late, Midoriya,” Shinsou replied, grinning into his shoulder, feeling more confident now. He slid one tickling hand down to Deku’s hip and laughed with him when he spasmed so hard they both fell to the floor. “You said I was just cute. Now you’ll have to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Nohohohohohohohoho!” Deku cried, giggling hysterically, but it was obvious to both of them that he didn’t really want any of this to stop, and neither did Shinsou.

So it didn’t.

[jilyss]

Sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. Wait. Why are we on a red carpet? Are you famous?

thanks for the prompt!! i tried to keep it under 2k but that clearly did not happen lol 

read on ao3

James Potter to Lily Evans at 3:14 p.m.: hey can u call when u get a sec

Lily Evans to James Potter at 3:18 p.m.: sry i was with a pt, what’s up

James Potter to Lily Evans at 3:19 p.m.: i have a favor to ask

It was 3 p.m. on a Friday and Lily Evans was just barely sitting down to eat lunch. She’d sat down in the empty breakroom, kicked up her legs onto a nearby chair, and just barely bit into her sandwich when she had seen James’ text. She replied a few minutes later, too hungry to type anything coherent.

When he called a minute later, her mouth was full of food. She swallowed quickly and pressed the accept button. “Hello?”

“Hey Evans,” he said, and Lily smiled at the sound of his voice. It had been a few months since she’d talked to him. She wished they lived closer, but she had just finished her residency in Manchester and he played football for Arsenal in London, and they were both so busy they didn’t have the chance to get together often. But they were the kind of friends who were able to pick up exactly where they’d left off every time they caught up, and Lily had missed him.

“I saw your game against Southampton last week.” Lily popped a crisp in her mouth. “Nice goal.”

She could practically hear his smirk through the phone. “Watched me, did you?”

“Remember that guy I told you about? The one I was talking to?” James hummed in agreement. “We went out for a drink and the game was on. I try to catch most of your games, but my schedule is a little - .”

“- Crazy, I know,” James laughed. “Are you still with him?”

Lily shifted the phone to her other ear. “No, we kind of just stopped talking.” She didn’t want to tell him that the real reason she had stopped talking to him was that before he found out that Lily knew him, he’d spent several minutes badmouthing James. Once he was finished, Lily gave him a quick rundown of the various ways he was an asshole, and then promptly left. She wasn’t a big fan of him anyway, and that had kind of sealed the deal. 

“Well, good - I mean, so sorry about the bloke, Evans - but I have a problem.”

Lily waited for him to continue, and he didn’t make her wait long. “There’s this event for work. Sirius is out of town, and I would ask my mum, but she went to the last one and just isn’t up for another late night yet, so if you aren’t busy, and I mean, only if you want to -”

Lily interrupted, laughing. “What do you need, James?”

“There’s this black-tie event I have to go to. It’s not a big deal, and we wouldn’t have to do anything. Would you want to go with me?”

Her eyebrows raised and she was a little surprised. “When is it?”

“Two weeks. It’s a Saturday.”

Lily pulled her phone from her ear and tapped on her calendar icon. She had that Saturday, Sunday, and Monday off. She considered her options, but there was really only one. Of course, she wanted to see him because it had been months, and she was never one to say no. She would just need to go shopping sometime before then. “Ok, sure.”

“Really? Brilliant, thanks, Evans.”

They chatted for a few more minutes until Lily’s lunch break was over, and she had to rush off to her next appointment. She sent a quick text to Marlene asking for her help with dress shopping, packed up her lunch and left the breakroom. 

James Potter to Lily Evans: hey, mum got wind of you coming down to london and would luv to see u

Lily Evans to James Potter: EUPHEMIA

Lily Evans to James Potter: of course!!!

Lily Evans to James Potter: i could come down a few hours early

James Potter to Lily Evans: actually do u wanna stay the night? we prob won’t be done until late and it’s a long trip back

Lily didn’t hesitate. 

Lily Evans to James Potter: yeah! I love ur mum and it’s been way too long

James Potter to Lily Evans: sweet, ill see you in a few days x

  Lily closed the door to her apartment, locking the door behind her. She made her way down the stairs and out to her car, carefully hanging her dress on a hook in the back seat. She’d originally planned on just taking the train down, but it would be faster to drive, and she didn’t want to worry about keeping her dress wrinkle-free on the train. 

When she arrived at the Potter’s house (though it was more like a mansion) a few hours later, a wave of nostalgia hit her. Lily and James had become friends at uni, and their friend group often went to the nearby Potter’s house for a home-cooked dinner. Lily had especially become close with Euphemia, James’ mother, and used to go over even when James wasn’t there. 

She pulled into the large driveway and parked the car before grabbing her bag from the backseat. Before she could even get to the door, Euphemia swung the door open and pulled her into a tight hug. “Lily, dear, it’s been too long!” 

Lily dropped her bag and hugged her back, excited to be back. “I’ve missed you, Euphemia!” Over Euphemia’s shoulder, she saw James running down the stairs towards them. Lily swallowed hard as she saw him. He was somehow even taller than the last time she had seen him, and football had definitely been good to him. Normally, he lived in a flat closer to his training facility but had returned to his mum’s house for the night.

As James approached, Euphemia let go of her and James immediately grabbed her into a hug. “Alright, Evans?”

Lily grinned into his shoulder, feeling his arms wrapping all the way around her. She squeezed him extra tight once before pulling away, then put one arm over Euphemia’s shoulders. “I’m doing good!” She glanced over her shoulder at her car. “I’m not sure when we have to leave, but I left my dress in the car, should I…”

“I’ll grab it.” James stuck out his hand and Lily handed him the keys. He was out the door in a second, and Euphemia steered Lily into the kitchen. 

“Congratulations on finishing your residency, Lily! Or really I should say congratulations, Dr. Evans.” Euphemia winked at her. Lily blushed and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She still wasn’t used to the title, and even though she knew she had fully earned it, it still felt a little unreal.

“Thank you, I’m just glad to be done.” Lily took a seat at the counter, leaning her arms on the counter. Euphemia plopped a pastry in front of Lily, who took a bite without hesitating. She was an excellent cook who was always making something, and on the drive down, Lily had secretly hoped that today would be no different. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s blackberry filling, right?”

Euphemia nodded. “Now that you’ve finished your residency, are you planning to stay in Manchester?”

James walked in and tossed Lily her keys. Lily shrugged, casting her eyes quickly towards James. “I’m not sure. I love Manchester, but I’ve missed London more than I thought.” She took another bite of the pastry, chewing quickly. “I have a job now up there, but I’m not too attached yet.”

“Remus is planning on moving back here,” James cut in. “He just finished his masters, and has a job lined up here already.”

“I wish I got to see him before I left.” Lily glanced down at the counter. “I know I haven’t been able to visit a ton, but hopefully I can now.”

Euphemia patted her hand, eyes twinkling. “We know you were busy with your program, but you could make it up to us by moving back here.”

“Mum! Don’t guilt-trip her.”

Lily laughed and finished off her pastry. “I’d do anything to be closer to your baking, Euphemia.”

“I’ll make your favorite custard tarts every day, Lily.”

“Done.”

James snuck a blackberry pastry behind his mother’s back, holding a finger over lips to Lily. She grinned at him before turning back to Euphemia. “You know, the only reason I agreed to go with James is because I wanted to see you.”

Euphemia clutched her hands over her heart. “I always knew you were my favorite, Lily.”

Lily sent a wide smirk at James, whose mouth was so full of pastry he couldn’t retort back. Euphemia glanced at a clock. “James, what time did you say you were going to be leaving?”

James checked his phone. “The car is coming at six. We’ve got about an hour.”

Lily raised her eyebrows and moved to the sink to wash her sticky fingers. “I need to do my hair.”

“You know who else needs to do their hair?” 

“Mum, for the last time, my hair is fine.” James dodged his mother’s attempt to smooth out the tangles on his head. 

Euphemia turned to Lily, hands on her hips. “Don’t you think he needs a haircut?”

Lily pursed her lips at them, staring at James. “Actually, I think he looks good with that mess. Hides the rest of his face.”

James tried to flip her off just as his mother turned around, saying “Nevermind Lily, you aren’t my favorite”, and was rewarded with a swat from an oven mitt.

She grinned at him and headed back to pick up her bag by the front door. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Euphemia pushed James towards Lily, smiling and muttering something about James’ hair. He grabbed her bag from her and walked up the stairs. “Mum put you in the guest room next to mine. There’s a bathroom in there you can use.”

Once they’d arrived, Lily expected him to disappear into his room until she was ready. Instead, he sat on the carpet next to the bathroom, looking up at her. They started talking, Lily curling her hair as they talked. It was nice catching up with him, and Lily had a hard time concentrating on getting her hair right when she could watch James through the mirror. 

It was a quarter to six when she glanced at her watch and realized he was still wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. “This is a black-tie event, right?”

“Shit, yeah, I’ll be right back.” He jumped up and closed the door behind him. 

Lily put the finishing touches on her makeup - which was relatively simple because any makeup skills she used to have basically had disappeared in the past few years. James had brought up her dress bag, and she unzipped the bag and pulled it out. Luckily, it was still wrinkle-free, and in a few seconds, she had wiggled into it, zipped it up, and slipped on her shoes. 

Somehow, James had made it downstairs before her and was talking quietly with his mum in the kitchen. Lily walked in, heels clicking quietly, and they turned to look at her. 

She heard Euphemia’s quiet gasp and James’s soft ‘woah’. Blushing again, she did a little turn. She was wearing a silver floor-length dress paired with black heels. It was relatively simple, with small straps and a waist that hugged her hips and then dropped straight to the floor. Marlene’s eyes had practically bugged out her head when Lily had tried it on, and judging by the way James was looking at her right now, it was a good choice.

James hugged his mum and made his way to her, holding out his arm. “You don’t clean up too bad, Evans.”

Lily took his arm gratefully. “Oh, this old thing?”

Behind them, Euphemia was insisting on a picture, and Lily put her head on James’ shoulder, smiling for the picture. But Euphemia took a second to get her phone ready, and James tilted his head to whisper in her ear. “You look amazing, Evans.” 

Euphemia, finally ready, held up her camera and Lily didn’t get a chance to respond. She hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps that had popped up on her arm when he had said that. She snapped the picture, and then, arm in arm, they made their way out the door. 

Lily had been expecting an uber, but instead, it was a small limo with a chauffeur. She gave James an odd look, who just opened her door for her and helped her in. Lily waved goodbye at Euphemia, and the driver took off. 

“So what is this event for, James? I don’t think you ever told me.”

James tugged at his tie. “Uh, just an awards ceremony.”

“An awards ceremony?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you getting an award?” The driver slowed to a stop, and Lily could see a long line of cars in front of them.

“Uh, no.”

“Are you just being humble?”

James tugged at his tie again. “No, I’m definitely not getting an award.”

Lily frowned as the driver inched forward again. She could hear some yelling in the distance, and she glanced out front again. “You’re one of the best on the team. Didn’t you say this was some team event?”

“Uh, no, I never said it was a team event.”

Lily glanced out front again and saw a team of photographers running towards the noise. Her heart rate started to pick up. “James.” 

He looked at her, half smiling and half nervous. “Hm?”

The car inched forward again and now Lily could see a red carpet going up a flight of stairs. She looked outside the window and realized exactly where they were in London. As she connected the dots in her head, her eyebrows raised.

She rounded on James. “What’s this event called?”

He had a bit of a smug look on his face as he answered. “The Brit awards.”

“The Brits? As in, famous award show with lots of famous people, the Brits?” Lily hissed. She smacked him on the shoulder with her purse. “Are you’re just telling me this now?”

He winced slightly. “Yes?”

Lily groaned and sat back in her seat. They were only a few cars away from the red carpet, and she could see the crowds of people all around. “You aren’t a musician.”

“No, but they usually invite a few athletes. David and Victoria Beckham are usually here.” He shrugged. “They invited me this year.”

Lily smacked his shoulder again. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me this. You said it was no big deal.”

“Well, I’m not getting an award or anything, so it’s really not a big deal -” Lily shot him a look and he stopped talking. 

He ran a hand through his hair, tousling his brown locks. “Look, Evans, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I kind of thought you would just figure it out?”

Lily tried to stop herself from smiling, but it was just so James that she had to laugh. He had an ego the size of England, but at the same time, was somehow humble enough to think that getting invited to a giant award show was no big deal. But she didn’t have time to process this new information before their car was at the center of the red carpet, and a man in a suit came to open their door. 

“You alright?” 

Lily took a deep breath and nodded. James slid out first, then held out a hand for Lily as she climbed out of the car. She stood carefully, adjusting her skirt and then, with shaking hands, reached up to fix James’ tie. He grabbed one of her hands and squeezed it. “We can go back if you want. I really should have told you, sorry Evans.”

“I’m a doctor, James. I have no clue how to handle this.”

He squeezed her hand once more. “They’re going to love you. Just follow me, yeah?”

Lily returned his squeeze and turned to look at the flashing lights of the cameras and swarms of people. This was way different from what she had been expecting, but she definitely wasn’t going to leave now. She took another deep breath and turned back to him with a smile. “Do you think Lewis Capaldi is here?”

He grinned, ran a hand through his hair one more time, and led her up the red carpet. 

An assistant led them through the carpet, although James was so charming and charismatic that they didn’t need the help. They smiled for pictures, a few serious ones with James’ hand on her hip, and a few with his arm more casually over her shoulder and her head leaning on his arm. James had a few interviews, which mostly focused on what he was excited to see inside. A few reporters asked who she was, and James introduced her each time as “my friend from uni, Lily Evans.”

They even asked her a few questions, curious about this mysterious girl James Potter had with him. Lily blushed each time, but his steady presence next to her helped her remain calm and collected, but by the time they were inside, she felt even more out of her comfort zone. 

Their assistant led them to their table and then waved goodbye. Their table was so far empty, and since James wasn’t up for any awards, they were towards the back, which let them spy on the stream of celebrities, musicians, and assistants.

Lily was still shaky, and that only increased they watched Stormzy, surrounded by assistants and friends, take a seat at the very front. Normally, Lily wasn’t afraid of new situations, and usually, she thrived in them, but she just hadn’t been prepared for this. James noticed that she was still a little nervous, and as she took a sip of her drink, he put a hand on her bouncing leg. “You alright?”

His hand, warm against the fabric of her dress, only made her more nervous. She smiled at him and internally resolved to enjoy the experience. How often would she get to be in a place like this?

An older couple joined their table a few minutes later. The husband was the manager of James’ team, and James introduced Lily. A few minutes later, they were joined by more people, and Lily and James got pulled into two different conversations, but James’ hand never left her thigh.  

A four-course meal was served as the performances started, and everyone clapped after Mabel performed “Don’t Call Me Up”. There was a crowd by the stage for the cameras, but Lily noticed that not many people seated at the tables were standing up for the performances. James and Lily were seated on the side of their table, and after glancing around, she realized they wouldn’t block anyone’s view. 

When Lizzo took the stage, Lily jumped to her feet, grabbing James’ wrist. “Stand up!” 

He didn’t hear her at first, and she bent at the waist to speak into his ear. “Stand up!” He popped up next to her, putting one arm around her shoulders again, while she wrapped her arm around his waist. They danced like no one was watching, swaying back and forth together, although they certainly got a few odd looks. Lily was laughing at his singing (he knew every word of all of Lizzo’s songs), finding that she had a hard time focusing on the music when he was so tall and warm next to her. They sat down again a few minutes later, but James’s hand stayed in his pockets.

The award show eventually ended, and Lily and James stood outside, waiting for their chauffeur. But there was a long line, and after a few minutes, Lily looked up at James. “Want to get a little ways away and call an uber?”

He immediately nodded and followed her, one hand in his hair. They made their way out of the building, James occasionally getting stopped by someone he knew or when he got recognized. By the time they were out into the night air, it was nearly one am. 

“I’ll call the uber,” James said. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and swung onto Lily’s bare shoulders, and she smiled gratefully. A few taps later, he tucked it into his pocket and pointed down the street. “I said we’d meet them down there. There’s too much traffic back there for them to get through.”

They were quiet for a few minutes as they walked side by side. There were still quite a few people out, but for the most part, they were left alone. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what we were going to.” James kicked out at a loose rock on the sidewalk. “I guess I didn’t think about it.”

Lily pulled his suit jacket a little tighter around her and shrugged. “I had a lot of fun. A little nerve-wracking at first, but I’m definitely not mad you invited me. I just didn’t know you were so famous.”

He frowned. “I’m not famous.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Huh. Then how, exactly, did you get an invitation to the Brit Awards?”

He shot her a smirk. “My thick thighs.”

“James Potter, your mum was right, you need a haircut to humble you.”

A car pulled up next to them and James checked the license plate quickly before opening her door again. “So you agree, I have thick thighs.”

Lily waited for him to climb in before she continued. “You have thick thighs but I’m not sure why that would help you get an invite.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, turning to face her in the backseat. “Raw sex appeal.”

Lily’s eyebrows raised even higher. “Raw sex appeal.”

“Mmhm. Raw sex appeal.” James put his hand over the back of her headrest, causing his shirt to pull tight against his torso. Lily had to pull her eyes from the outline of his muscles, and when she met James’ eyes again, it was clear he had noticed. 

“Well, that can’t be it. You don’t have a single drop of that.”

“That’s not what my mum tells me.”

“Your mum tells you that you have ‘pure sex appeal’?”

“Evans - “ James tried, but Lily had won their little battle of words, and there was nothing he could do. “Alright fine, it was not my sex appeal.”

“Glad we finally agree on that.” 

 Euphemia was in bed when they got home, and Lily and James crept upstairs to change. Lily changed into shorts and a sweatshirt, tossed her hair into a bun, and decided taking off her makeup was a later problem. James beat her downstairs again and was standing in front of the open refrigerator. 

Lily snagged another blackberry pastry, groaning as the sweet taste filled her mouth. James turned around with half of a sandwich in his hand. He walked into the pantry and grabbed some glasses and red wine before moving to sit next to her at the counter. Lily shifted to face him as he pointed to his legs. 

“I wore shorts just so you could see my thick thighs. And raw sex appeal.” Lily glanced down to see a pair of very muscular thighs hidden behind grey shorts. She swallowed hard and bit into her pastry. 

“If you say so.”

There was quiet padding behind them, and Euphemia walked in, wrapped in a bathrobe and hair in curlers. “Oh! I’m so sorry, did we wake you?”

She shook her head, squinting in the kitchen light. “I wanted to ask you how it went.”

Lily didn’t hesitate to throw James under the bus. “Your son told me this award ceremony was no big deal.”

“No!” Euphemia gasped. “You didn’t tell her it was the Brits?”

James shrunk slightly under his mother’s glare. “I may have forgotten to mention it.”

“And he told me he has raw sex appeal.”

“Is that so?” Euphemia turned to James, hands on her hips, but the laughter in her eyes made it clear that she was enjoying embarrassing him. James just shot his mother a winning smile, and Euphemia turned to Lily. “Did he treat you right?”

“Oh yes, a perfect gentleman.” But just as she said this, James' hand crept back onto her bare thigh, his thumb rubbing light circles under the table. Lily’s stomach flip-flopped.

Euphemia winked at them and pointed to the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, dearie. James, stay out of the ice cream, I’m saving it for tomorrow.”

James kissed her on the cheek as she left, then grabbed the wine and glasses. “You want to go outside?”

Lily grinned and moved to grab some blankets from the living room. James was bent over the firepit on the back patio, and in a few seconds, had managed to start a warm fire. She handed him a blanket, scooting her chair close to his and wrapping herself up. He handed her a glass of wine then settled back into his chair. 

“Coming out here was always my favorite thing to do at your house,” Lily said. “It just… it just felt like one big family.”

James fanned his fingers out over the flame. “How long has it been since we were all together? Like three years?”

“Four,” Lily said quietly. “We haven’t all been together since graduation.”

“We’ve come a long way since then.”

“Yeah.” Lily shifted in her seat. Then she asked a question that had been weighing on her mind since he had called her. “Why did you call me?”

She expected him to give her a joking response, but to her surprise, he took a minute to think. “I missed you. It’s been a while.”

“No girlfriend? No pretty famous person who is sliding into your dms?” Her voice was teasing, but it was a genuine question. James had it all - fame, money, talent, looks - why did he ask her to go with him on the red carpet?

He laughed lightly and shook his head. “C’mon Evans, you know that’s not me.”

He was right - Lily couldn’t see him ever actually caring about his fame. It just wasn't him. Sure, he had an ego, but he’d matured so much since freshman year of uni, and Lily had been more than impressed with him on the red carpet. “You handled it so well today. Everyone loves you. ” 

“Everyone loves you, Evans. You had less than thirty seconds notice that you were going on a red carpet and you adjusted in what - ten seconds?”

Lily stayed quiet, taking a sip from her glass. “We’ve grown up a lot since uni, haven’t we?” He didn’t reply, just staring into the fire. Lily continued. “I don’t know if I could have done it tonight if it wasn’t you with me. You just made it easy.”

He shrugged. “I used to go to a lot of events with my mum and dad.”

Lily wanted to reach out and shake him and tell him that no, it was just James that was so charismatic and caring and charming. He didn’t seem to know the effect he had on people - had on her - that made them open up and happy -

And then all of a sudden, Lily realized just exactly what her feelings were. The reason she had a hard time taking her eyes off him or kept having to fight the urge to just hold his hand, and why she suddenly did not want to go back home.

Her eyes flicked at him, tracing the lines of his face and watching the light dance on his hair. James seemed to sense that she was watching him and glanced up at her. She just smiled softly and pulled her blanket tighter, heart pounding.

James downed the last of his drink and stood up, brushing off his pants. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Lily was a little surprised at his sudden decision, but felt a yawn coming on and stood up with him. James extinguished the fire, Lily grabbed the wine bottle, and they headed inside. They were mostly quiet, but just before Lily entered her room, she pulled him into a tight hug. “Thanks for tonight. I’m glad you invited me.”

James wrapped his arms around her and Lily could feel her heart rate increase again. He didn’t pull away, but she was worried that he could hear her pounding heart and didn’t linger. She waved goodbye to him, then went into her room. 

The blanket was still hanging on her shoulders, and she buried her nose in it, leaning against the door. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. Tonight had not been anything like she had expected, and she was incredibly grateful she had said yes. But there was a problem. She hadn’t anticipated her newfound feelings for James and had no idea how or when they had started. All she knew was that she was going to kick herself for months if she didn’t tell him how she felt. 

But the problem with that was she had no idea if even liked her. But thinking back on the night, Lily hoped the hints he seemed to be dropping really were hints and not just things close friends do. Like the way he had held her hand on the red carpet, the way he kept putting his hand on her thigh, or the way he had looked at her when she’d first come downstairs. 

Lily tilted her head back to rest on the door, gave herself a mental pep talk, threw open the door to her room, and marched across to James’ bedroom. She knocked quietly on the door, and he opened it a few seconds later. 

“What’s up?” he whispered. Lily took a tiny step forward and he stepped back to let her inside. She stood only a few inches away from him, the blanket still wrapped around her. 

“Why did you call me?” her voice was so quiet that she barely even heard it. “You never answered my question.”

“Evans…”

Lily’s mouth twitched upwards. She took a small step forward. “I think you can call me Lily now, James.”

He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut. He seemed to be fighting himself internally, and Lily couldn’t handle it more. She closed the gap between them, standing on her tiptoes and pressing a rough kiss to his mouth. He didn’t respond, and Lily pulled away, feeling her stomach drop. She looked up at him, trying to gauge if she had just made a terrible mistake. 

She was just about to step back, ready to apologize, but his dark eyes flashed and his hands reached out to grip her face and pulled her back. The blanket slid to the ground as Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her, and the warmth of the blanket was lost. One of his hands moved to grip her hip, the other on the small of her back, pulling her against his chest. His warmth replaced the chill as Lily moved one hand to play with his hair. He groaned against her lips as she tugged on it, tilting his head back so that she could press needy kisses along his jawline.

He stepped to the side, pulling her with him towards the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she immediately sat, grabbing onto the collar of his sweatshirt and pulling him down with her. The rough movement made their noses knock together, and Lily just laughed as James pulled away a little ruefully to rub it. Lily took advantage of the space between them to pull his shirt over his head, and as soon as it was tossed to the side, James dropped back to her, warm fingers trailing up her sides.

 “You think your mum heard us?” Lily was lying under the covers with her head resting on James’ arm, one hand tracing the lines of his stomach. 

“Way to ruin the mood, Evans. I love talking about my mum right after sex.” Lily laughed as he buried his face in a pillow. She reached out to play with a strand of his hair. James pulled his face out of the pillow to look at her. “You weren’t exactly quiet, were you?”

Lily blushed violently as he shifted to kiss her neck again. James had excellent stamina, what could she say? He seemed to know exactly what spots got to her, and it quite possibly had been the best bloody shag of her life.

Not that she would tell him that - she didn’t want his ego getting any bigger. Instead, she shifted onto her elbow, letting the sheet slide down to her waist. She smirked as his eyes slipped downwards and he swallowed hard, letting his hands wander freely. Pulling her hair out of her face, she bent down to pull him in a needy kiss, and that was all the prompting he needed to roll on top of her again. 

 After getting back so late and an active night, they slept in late. Lily woke up first, with James sprawled out on the bed next to her. She watched him for a minute in the soft morning light, then got dressed enough to quietly pad across the hall and back into her room. She showered quickly, scrubbing off last night’s makeup, then dressed in shorts and an oversized shirt. 

The kitchen was empty, but Euphemia had left a note on the counter about waffles in the fridge, and Lily didn’t hesitate to pull a few out. She had just put a few in the microwave when James shuffled in, wrapping his arms around her from the back and burying his head in her neck. He inhaled deeply, and his warm exhale gave Lily goosebumps. “You smell good,” he murmured, shifting some of her wet hair off her neck, giving him unrestricted access. Lily’s head tilted back to rest on his shoulder as his lips trailed up and down, humming softly. 

Lily would have taken him right there and then if Euphemia hadn’t walked in that exact second. She tried to put some distance between her and James, a little embarrassed that she’d caught them like that, but James kept his arms tight around her, laughing. 

“Morning mum,” he said brightly. “What are you up to?”

“Just out for a bit of gardening.” She waved her dirty hands and raised an eyebrow quizically at them. “Jamie dear, do you have something to tell me?”

James rested his chin on Lily’s shoulder and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, tipping her head to the side to see him, a smile breaking out on her face. He smiled too, his thumb rubbing slow circles on her stomach. He looked over at his mother, who was now washing her hands, and said “Mum, I want you to meet Lily Evans, my girlfriend.”

Euphemia gasped and spun on her heel to look at them. “Well, it’s about time!” She reached out and pulled Lily from James’ arms. “Oh! My hands are all wet.” She released Lily from the hug and jumped up and down. “I always hoped you two would get together!”

James grabbed Lily from behind again, pulling her close. Lily shot her an odd look. “You did?”

Euphemia winked at both of them and James groaned. “She loves you too bloody much.”

Lily patted his hands, which had slipped just under the hem of her shirt, consolingly. The microwave finally beeped and she pulled away to grab the plates. Euphemia disappeared back into the garden a few minutes later, and Lily joined James back at the counter. They dove into the food, both starving. 

James slid his hand on her thigh, and she put her hand over his, not wanting to be apart just yet. When they’d finished, he turned to her, one elbow leaning on the counter. “So, Evans, want to stay the night again?”

She pretended to think about it. “I’m sure Euphemia would enjoy my company.”

James pushed his plate away and stood up. Lily turned around to face him, and he stepped forward until Lily’s back hit the counter. He kissed the corners of her mouth, then moving back down to her neck. “No other reason?”

Lily was having a hard time concentrating. “I can’t miss out on the blackberry pastries.”

“Any other reasons?”James sucked slightly at the sweet spot he had discovered last night and Lily’s fingers dug into his shoulder. His free hand fingered the waistband of her shorts, and Lily couldn’t take it anymore. She kissed him, one hand fisting in the hair that she just couldn’t seem to get enough off. Still on the barstool, Lily wrapped her legs around him and he lifted her, kissing her all the while. 

“I can think of one more reason,” she managed to get out as he carried her up the stairs.

James threw open the door to his bedroom, tugging his shirt over his head. “Oh?”

Lily mirrored him, tossing her sweatshirt to the side. “Raw sex appeal.”

James’ eyebrows raised. “Oh yeah? Tell me more?”

Lily didn’t answer, instead just pulling him to the bed and laughing at the devilish look in his eyes. 

[gotnofucks]

Congruence

Written for @holylulusworld 10k follows challenge!

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader, Loki x Reader

Trope: Love Triangle

Summary: Stephen and Loki want you. You are confused. Wong is an angsty person.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: None? Strong language, I think. Fluff and bad English (not my first language)

A/N: This is my first time writing something like this so please bear with me. Also, I’m a sucker for happy endings so…yeah.

MASTERLIST

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Wong was losing his fucking mind. He was one more broken vase away from cursing in Vedic Sanskrit and spent every hour cursing Thor for sending his miscreant brother to live at the New York Sanctum. He could have gone to Hong Kong, or maybe London where he would have fit right in with that English accent. But no! He had to send him here in New York with Wong and Stephen and you.

You had been living at the sanctum for only two months when Thor literally dropped Loki here. Wong and Stephen had been sitting in the living room when the ceiling cracked open and someone fell from the sky with a resounding THUD. Loki had looked up from the floor with utter contempt in his face at his brother who landed solidly on his feet.

“Hey there, doctor!” Thor bellowed, patting Stephen roughly on the shoulder and gave Wong a bear hug.

The sorcerers had stared at the two Asgardians with absolute shock on their faces until Wong exploded.

“Can you please for fucks sake use the door like a normal person!? Every time you are here you break something! The ceiling for god’s sake! Do you have any idea how much time and effort it takes to repair that?”

Thor looked at the ceiling with no remorse while his brother dusted himself off.

“Can’t you just, you know, reverse time with the stone and fix it?” Thor asked, taking a seat without being offered one.

“What are you doing here? And why, if I may ask, is your brother here?” Stephen asked rolling his eyes. Thor made the occasional stop at the Sanctum from time to time just for the fun of it. Banner bet him 10 bucks it has a lot to do with Wong being recently single, Stephen disagrees and says its because their kitchen is always stocked with Pop Tarts.

“Ah, you can keep my brother” Thor said nonchalantly, stretching his legs out and being comfy in his chair.

“Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are, trying to treat me like an object?” Loki spat.

Before Thor could retort, Stephen banged his hand on the table. “I have no plans to keep your brother, Odinson. Pray, take him and leave. And while you’re at it, put some money on the table for the ceiling. We may have magic, but we don’t use it to put splintered wood back together.”

“You must keep him doctor, for the good of the nine realms.” Thor said, raising his hands slightly in resignation.

“Have you started another war already?” Wong asked curiously, eyeing the God of Mischief who looked about ready to stab his brother.

“He hasn’t, yet. But I’m leaving Midgard for some time and Valkyrie doesn’t want him around. They will end up killing each other by the end of the week. He’s got magic, you can make use of him here. Hell, make him fix that ceiling.” Thor said.

Loki was seething at having been treated like a naughty child while the adults talked around him. They hadn’t let him utter a word in his defense and he doubted it would matter if they did hear him out. Whatever, he didn’t want to stay with Valkyrie either. Before Thor dragged him here, he’d switched all her alcohol with fruit juice. She would be spitting fire for days and he was safer here. And so, it was decided that Loki would stay at the sanctum until Thor returned. What he would do here remains to be seen. Stephen wasn’t pleased with the situation, but he’d rather Loki stay here than cause some other world ending event that would drag him and other Avengers out to clean up his mess later.

You were in the library when this weird turn of events was happening, so you hadn’t had the chance to meet Loki yet. You were a new recruit at the sanctum, chosen personally by Wong who felt they needed more than just two sorcerers to protect this place. Until then you were under training with both of them and were still getting your feel of this space. You had so far met no one other than your two mentors so you were rightfully surprised to stumble on man wearing green cape and eating your cereal in the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously while he did the same, chewing slowly.

“Y/n meet Loki. He’ll be staying with us for some time”, Wong said as ways of introduction. Wong adored you since he saw you in Kamartaj and had you brought here as soon as your preliminary training there was over. You were still very young, only in your 20s, so you brought with yourself a light and life that had previously been lacking in this sacred place. Ever since you came here, the sanctum had flower vases in almost every room and soft music could be heard at odd times. You didn’t take long to adjust to your life in New York and often forced both Stephen and Wong to eat something other than take out. You laughed and smiled and brought with yourself a woman’s touch to this dreary place. Wong wasn’t the only one affected. Stephen, who had initially been very against the idea of another sorcerer in the sanctum warmed up to you quick enough. So warm in fact that Wong could almost call it affection.

“Hi Loki, does your cape float too?” You asked and sat across him, pouring some cereal and milk into your bowl. Loki stopped eating and bent his head a little to the side, curious.

“It doesn’t.” He said at last.

“That sucks, I love flying cloaks. Stephen’s cloak – I call it Levi – loves to take me on rides. If your cape were a sentient too, maybe they could have been friends. Everyone should have friends, even clothes.”

Loki was looking at you with a small, amused smile.

“I can enchant it for a few hours; however, it won’t remain animated forever.” Loki said. He didn’t like talking to strangers, but you were so sweet, so unafraid of him that it pleased him. You had no awkwardness when you spoke, and no note of hatred in your voice, something that didn’t happen often in his conversations with people.

Your eyes brightened and you launched into a discussion about animation enchantments, something that the masters at Kamartaj had steered clear off. They were very adamant about how to use magic, and walking furniture was somewhere they drew the line. Loki’s magic was very different to yours and it fascinated you. This was how Stephen found you, deep in conversation with an amused Loki who looked at you softly. He scowled.

“What’s happening here?”, he asked, coming to stand behind you.

“Did you know it’s possible to morph your body in someone else’s completely? Solid illusions!”, you prattled on.

“Of course, I know, I just don’t use it.” Stephen said and took the seat beside you.

“You never said! You’ll teach me?” Your eyes were bright as you asked this, and it was with great restraint Stephen shook his head and said no. He found it difficult denying you anything and if he ever admitted it to himself, he would say he’s fond of you. Very fond.

Your face fell at his denial.

“You won’t teach me? Why?”

“Some magic is too advanced for you right now. We’ll build it up and maybe someday I’ll teach you, although I’m not fond of it. Some magic is just…silly.”

Loki was looking at your exchange with a small smirk and as you lowered your face in dejection, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and looked straight at you.

“I can teach you.” He said and watched your eyebrows raise before a small smile formed on them. You looked happy until you remembered your mentor sitting beside you and looked at him with a forlorn expression. Stephen’s hands clenched and he resisted the urge to mash Loki’s face in his cereal.

“Like hell you would! I’m her instructor and the only thing you’re doing is staying out of trouble.” Stephen said, one hand leaning over the back of your chair, a gesture not lost on Loki.

“Didn’t Thor say I could be of help here? Well, this is it. I could help teach Y/n and we can compare notes on our magic. Wouldn’t you like that, Y/n?” Loki asked you in a sweet voice and you nodded eagerly, eyes pleading with Stephen to agree. You looked so earnest, so willing to learn, that Stephen couldn’t find it in himself to say no. He wanted to, he wanted to shout that he will teach you all you needed to know and more, that he is someone you can rely on. But he simply said yes.

Throughout this whole conversation, Wong, who was busy cooking hadn’t said a thing but if the stiffness in his shoulders was to go by, he was not a happy man. He knew some shit was about to go down, and lord did he not want to be a part of it.

From that day, what happened in the Sanctum was something Wong could only call an over glorified dick-measuring contest between Stephen and Loki. They did all but whip their tools out and boink each other on the head with it.  

It started from little things like teaching you something new and praising you about it. You loved to have your work being acknowledged and would blush a deep red at being praised. Loki had fumed for hours watching you and Stephen work and you giggling with a red face as Stephen told you what a good job you had done. In retaliation, Loki started teaching you enchantments and when you got them right, he would pat your hand and tell you that you were a good girl. That blush, and the glare he received from Stephen was a treat.

It didn’t stop with academics. The men started vying for your attention in the kitchen, each trying their hardest to win you over with more and more complicated dishes. Wong put his foot down when Loki made a Nutella sandwich that was a foot high and dripped with toasted marshmallows that took hours to scrub off. Stephen had laughed outrageously when Wong scolded Loki, telling him to clean up his mess and if he ever did something like this again, he’ll be using his toothbrush to clean the sanctum. Stephen stopped laughing however when Wong turned to him with a spatula in his hand. “And you! You’re banned from cooking too. I can’t go shopping every day to get you ingredients because you want to make Y/n pastries and pies and stupid Turkish delights three times a day. Out of my kitchen! Now!”

The antics continued, more often than naught resulting in skirmishes between the two men which in turn resulted in a lot of broken vases, furniture, and in some rare events, bones. They fought over who you spent more time with, smiled wider at, and laughed harder at. It drove Wong crazy, an unfortunate bystander to the playground tricks of two boys fighting over a toy. But you were more than a toy, that he could tell.

You weren’t oblivious to what was happening. You were young, not naïve and so you spent your days very amused. You didn’t mind this attention, far from it in fact. Two very handsome and powerful men, for reasons best known to them, were trying their best to impress you. It made you giddy and feel wanted, but also confused because while you weren’t in love with either of them, you didn’t think you’d be able to choose one when the time came for it. Surely, they can’t keep doing this forever and will one day give you the ultimatum to make a choice. You dreaded that day because with each passing day, with each sweet gesture and praise, with each hug lasting a little longer and each eye contact being a little hotter, you were reminded that with choosing one you would lose the other. That didn’t seem like the happy ending you wanted.

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Loki was at his wit’s end and knee deep in books and ancient relics. He had scrounged every storeroom and tome trying to find what he wanted to no avail. His hair was disheveled from running his hands through it too many times and he wished you would braid it like you’d done a couple nights ago. What had begun simply as an amusing prank to show up Stephen Strange ended up being a true gamble in the game of love. He didn’t really expect to start liking you like this. Sure, you were different, and he acknowledged that fact within minutes of meeting you. But he didn’t know that he would seriously start considering his intentions towards you. At most he had hoped he would find a friend in you, but he didn’t just want to be a friend anymore. He wanted you with your tinkling laugh and ability to cast spells far above your level. He wanted to see you defend him against Thor and to tell you stories of Asgard as you took a walk through New Asgard by his side. He wanted you so bad and he’d be damned if that red cloak wearing second rate wizard took you from him.

“What in the world are you doing?” Wong asked as he entered Loki’s room to find it strewn with books and odd ornaments. Loki was sitting on the floor looking quite frustrated, and well, a little pathetic.

“I can’t find it. I’ve searched almost every book and every relic you have here. I can’t find it!” Loki moaned. Wong didn’t know what he was looking for, but he felt a small spark of pity for the god.

“What are you looking for?”

“Aladdin’s lamp”

There was a pregnant pause in the room.

“Excuse me?”

“Aladdin’s lamp. Y/n was talking about how Strange’s cloak – Levi as she calls it – would have loved having the flying carpet as his friend. And I asked her about this carpet, and she told me it belonged to the Genie who came out of Aladdin’s lamp when rubbed. I want that lamp so I can ask this Genie fellow to loan me his carpet”

It was a tough battle between laughing and patting the god on his head like a small child. Wong fought the impulse to do either and sat down on a chair after depositing the books on it on the table. “You won’t find it here”, he told Loki whose head shot up at this.

“Why not? Is it at some other sanctum? London?”

“It’s…nowhere.”, Wong said and raised a hand to stop Loki from interrupting. “Aladdin is a fictional story, so is the lamp and the genie and the carpet. Y/n loves reading about them and watching the movie adaptations. She likes to see how morals have interpreted magic.”

Loki’s mouth dropped open and for a moment he looked about ready to cry for having wasted so many hours searching for something that didn’t exist. Then, he miraculously started laughing.

“Norns! This woman drives me up a wall! She mentions one thing and I just want to do that for her. I’m not even mad at her or myself, just disappointed that I’ll have to search for something else to get her now. What the hell happened to me?”

Wong looked at a man who was very nearly, if not already in love with you. He didn’t like Loki very much, but he didn’t want this man to go through a heart break either. He would have to talk to you, soon.

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Stephen fancied himself a step ahead of Loki because he had known you a little bit longer, but if he was being honest, there wasn’t much to go by. His insecurities had a lot to do with that, for he believed you would prefer Loki, a handsome man over a scarred man like him. But you had never mentioned anything about his slightly trembling hands. You had taken to his life without a hitch and so seamlessly blended into a routine with him, Stephen felt like you had always been a part of his life. He couldn’t remember when you’d started helping him tie his robes, or necktie when the occasion called for it. He couldn’t remember when he’d started eating home cooked meals instead of takeout at the deli Wong preferred. One day he was living without you, and the other you had taken over every aspect of his life and made it ten times as beautiful. He didn’t know if he could go back to living life as he did before you, and he’d be damned if some green-bean god tried to take you away from him.

“I am going to regret asking this but what are you trying to do?”, Wong asked Stephen who was standing in the middle of his meditation room holding his cloak. Well, holding might not be the correct term. Dancing…with his cloak.

“I am teaching Levi how to waltz”, Stephen said and continued to guide the piece of fabric through the leg movements. Wong watched this with morbid fascination before sputtering incredulously.

“Why?”

“Y/n loves to waltz and as I don’t always have enough time to indulge her, I’m teaching my cloak how to do it so it can keep her company. You’ll do that won’t you, Levi?”

To Wong’s utter astonishment the cloak seemed to nod and was almost elegant in his movements. For a good few minutes Wong watched this scene before sighing. Smitten, both of them. Absolutely wrapped around your finger and most definitely on their way to fall in love. Stephen was his best friend and he looked so happy since you got here, it warmed Wong’s heart to finally see Stephen smile and be genuinely happy.

He really really needed to talk to you and ask you whom you planned to be with, if any of them at all. This is exactly the sort of drama Wong hated and he was sure no matter what you said, someone was going to get their heart broken.

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You were going to do it. You were going to do it today and tell them your decision because you couldn’t take it anymore. The hostility between Loki and Stephen was getting on your nerves and you couldn’t spend a minute in one’s company before being interrupted by the other. In the end, you just left them both, hence losing the joy of both their presence. And poor Wong. You could see him trying to summon courage for what you knew was going to be a very uncomfortable talk. The past few months Loki had lived here had been the best and worst months of your life. But now that things were starting to affect not just your friendship but also your academics (because both your instructors ended up attacking each other and spent two days in the sick bay), you needed to make a choice. So, you did what you did best and got to baking.

“It smells like Valhalla here, Y/n”, Loki said as he watched you work.

“Why won’t you let us see what you’re making?” Stephen asked, trying to look around you but you glared at him and he sat down again.

“Will you both for god’s sake ask the important question? Why the hell are we wearing these outfits?” Wong grumbled.

You looked at the three men seated around the table in Harry Potter robes, each holding a handmade wand and pointy hat you’d forced them to wear. They had protested and whined (I’m not a witch for Norn’s sake!) but had given in easier than you thought. You really did have them wrapped around your little finger.

“Could you wait for like two minutes? This needs to be perfect!” You chirped and got back to your tray.

“I’m too old to be doing cosplay”, Wong said with a huff.

“Shut up”

It took you another ten minutes to perfect your stuff, a tray lined with identical muffins with Hogwarts logo and the sorting hat on top. Picking it up you sat it down on the table before the three men and then sat down yourself.

“These are the sorting muffins but with a twist”, you declared. Loki looked on with interest. He’d watched and read all the Harry Potter books and movies at your behest.

“I hate this, and I hate twists. The last time I saw a twist was when this one-”, Wong pointed at Stephen “-annoyed a cosmic being into accepting defeat. I still get nightmares about that”

“Oh, don’t be so dull Wong. These are compatibility muffins. We don’t need sorting, we’re already sorted. You are obviously a Ravenclaw because you’re the librarian, Stephen is of course Gryffindor because Levi is red, similarly Loki is Slytherin because that cape is definitely a Slytherin green. And I am a Hufflepuff because I am the best.” Your speech did not have the jubilant response you expected, and you crossed your arm with a deep disappointed sigh. Stereotypical as your sorting had been you expected something more than blank faces.

“So, what are these muffins for?”, Stephen asked.

“We all take one and see what color filling we find. The person whose house we get, that’s the person we’re most compatible with.” Now you had your expected response. Both Loki and Stephen sat at attention eyeing the muffins critically, trying their hardest to guess which one had the yellow icing in the middle. Beside them Wong groaned and facepalmed. Of all the ways for you to choose a partner, trust you to play a game of luck involving a children’s fantasy book. He was regretting putting that talk off now.

“So, if I get blue…” Loki trailed off

“Yeah, you and Wong can go make out in the corner” You answered. “But of course, Wong must get green too you know, or you’d have to find another Ravenclaw. Consent is important after all”

It was the dumbest shit you had ever come up with. You knew it, everyone else knew it. But if this was how it was supposed to go so be it. Everyone ignored Wong’s complain of ruining a good desert and set out to choose their most perfect muffin. They were all identical to the last crumb, and it took an annoyingly large amount of time for both your suitors to choose their pieces. After they had deliberated and finally chosen their muffins, you casually selected one and motioned for Wong to do the same.

Finally, with muffins in all your hands and eyes full of anticipation and trepidation, you all took a bite.

Stephen’s face broke out in a grin as he showed off his bitten muffin with a yellow center. That smile however turned into a frown as Loki showed a yellow centered muffin too. Wong, feeling utterly stupid showed his red centered muffin and then all eyes turned to you. With a straight face you turned your muffin and-

“Motherfucker!”, Wong cried and with his head in his hands began laughing and crying simultaneously. Loki and Stephen looked stunned, staring open mouthed at the two-colored center of your muffin. Red and green.

“What?” They both said.

“I can’t choose. I just can’t. That’s not who I am.” You said and looked them both straight in the eye, hoping they’ll see reason in what you’re saying. “How do you choose between two people who love so much? You can’t quantify that feeling, you can never tell if its greater for someone or not. Call me a coward or a bitch, I don’t care. This is the truth. I love you Stephen. I love all your music references and stupid movies you make me watch. And I love you Loki, with that English accent and your horrible cooking. I love you both and I am here if you’ll have me. This is what I can offer you, because I sure as hell can’t break either of yours heart.”

You didn’t know what was going to happen. You hadn’t exactly meant to drop the L-word, but well, it was true. You couldn’t break their hearts, so you put the ball in their court and allowed them to break yours instead. It was much better than going through with the pain of choosing one of them, especially when your heart beats simultaneously for two. You braced yourself for rejection, because sharing a person you love is never easy. But if you have to share it with a person you hate, well, its almost impossible.

Loki and Stephen looked at you and then at each other. They seemed to be having some sort of wordless conversation and the longer they remained silent, the more you felt like you’d made a mistake and lost them both. Finally, they nodded at each other and then looked at you.

“I hate this second-rate wizard”

“I hate you too, green puny god”

“But we love you more.”

You blinked once and then again. It took a minute to register what they said but then you were flying and the next second you were in their arms, one man at your front while the other at your back. Sobs whacked your small body as the tension of past few months left you in your lovers’ embrace and you could finally breath easy. You pulled away and looked up with a tear stained face at Loki and Stephen, a watery smile that they reciprocated.

“So, we can finally have sex now after months of violent foreplay”, you remarked making them both laugh and pull you in their arms again. This was it. This was your safe space, your heaven.

Wong was forgotten as the three embraced and he was as baffled as he had ever been. Only you could have pulled off something so crazy. He was so glad he almost joined the group hug himself. No more broken furniture, no more shouting and no more messy kitchens. Life could go back to normal. As soon as he said that thunder rumbled outside and the ceiling cracked, depositing Thor in front of them wearing his armor and red cape.

“What’s happening here?” He boomed, looking around as if he hasn’t just vandalized their home again.

“You’re such a Gryffindor!” You cried, still delirious with joy and hugged Thor who had till now never met you. “I need to shave my whole body!” And saying this you ran away leaving the men staring at your back.

“Who’s that? And what’s a Gryffindor?” Thor asked, sitting at the kitchen table, and stretching his legs. He spotted the muffins and picked one up, taking a huge chunk out. It was blue from within. Both Loki and Stephen turned to look at a red-faced Wong who was cursing in Sanskrit.

“Looks like Banner was right. I owe him 10 bucks”, Stephen laughed.

[justlistenuniverse]

Chad x Ryan Headcanon

So, I rewatched the High School Musical movies, and my brain won't shut up about Ryan and all the possibilities. I mean, the movies don't really show a lot of the characters outside of Troy and maybe Gabriella, but I have a lot of ideas.  Since I can't be bothered writing a fanfiction right now, these little plot points should do it. (There's a little Chad/Ryan in there and a lot of me ignoring canon) 

Sharpay and Ryan are really close, even though she keeps using him, and he knows it, but he hasn't had friends outside of his sister for a long time, and he kind of profits from her reign of terror, so he lets her do it. 

When she ditches him in the summer, Ryan starts realizing how lonely he really is. He loves his school, and his classmates are fine, but thanks to Sharpay's attitude and him tagging along, all he gets from them is a sneer and people calling him Sharpay's lapdog (which is really not fair, she has Boi) 

He spends a lot of the time he now has alone, walking around the Lava Springs grounds, maybe booking one of the rooms for a small dance rehearsal.

Then Gabriella invites her along to the game, and Ryan is suspicious, but he also doesn't have anything better to do, so he tags along and lets Taylor and Gabriella tell him all about the game. It's the first one this summer, but there's another one planned, and they are hoping Troy might make it to that one, even though Chad is their best player. 

He loves playing Baseball. He forgot how fun it was, ho he used to get so excited for practice, and his games before he decided that Theater would be a more realistic career choice for someone like him and dropped out of the team. Sharpay dragging him along and commanding all his time might have weighted into that decision, too. He tries hard not to think about him leaving Baseball behind, which also meant him leaving his friends behind (but he can't help some memories playing in his head as he watches the boys warming up on the pitch) 

Gabriella offering him up as a choreographer, shouldn't feel this good, but he's always loved dancing and coming up with choreographies for his favorite musical numbers. There could be worse things than training the Wildcats for the Star Dazzle Award. 

He hadn't been planning on playing, not really, but he does, and the game is the most fun he had in weeks. His muscles apparently remember his Baseball games just fine, and he feels a little bit of hope growing inside of him. Maybe he won't have to be alone all summer long. 

When his team loses the game, all that hope is gone. The past hours will probably be the only fun ones he'll have this summer. He won't be training the Wildcats, and he definitely won't make some friends now. But then Chad tells him he will at least try to dance, and everyone gets really excited about the prospect of taking part in the talent show, so Ryan allows the hope back in. 

They invite him for post-game fries, and hanging out with all of them makes him realize how starved he really is for social interactions after years of just Sharpay. Gabriella drags him along to her house, where they all watch a movie, but it all feels so unreal that Ryan is sure he'll wake up all alone tomorrow. 

Even when Chad and Gabriella and some of the others program their numbers into his phone, that feeling won't leave him. 

He does not wake up without friends, though

There are a couple of texts from Gabriella, and a picture of an article about Ryan and his Little League Team Chad dug up on the internet and might be freaking out about (Ryan did remember that article. It had praised him as a rising talent of the Baseball league. His mom still has it framed in her office). 

Ryan skips breakfast and instead goes and books his favorite rehearsal room after he steals/consults his new possible friend's working hours to find a convenient time for rehearsal.

He tries out a couple of ideas by himself and then finds Kelsi to ask about the Song she wrote. They make a surprisingly good team once she stops being afraid of him. 

Gabriella finds him on her lunch break, and the two of them talk over Sandwiches. Taylor eventually joins them. They find out all of them have the same favorite TV Show and make plans for a joined binging of season one at Gabriella's place since she owns the box set. 

Talking with them is so easy, some of the anxiety in Ryan calms down. He even waves at Chad and Zeke when they come in for their afternoon shift, and they smile and wave back. 

The anxiety gets even better when all of the Wildcats turn up for their first rehearsal, eager to learn the dance moves Ryan came up with 

There's a lot of laughter, something that rarely happened once Sharpay and him started rehearsing for school plays. Ryan loves it.

Chad is a surprisingly good dancer when he puts his mind into it. Jason is a hopeless case, but he's weirdly enthusiastic, and Ryan offers him extra training after work.  

He gets a text from Zeke the next morning, inviting him for breakfast in the kitchen. He gets cookies, and Martha shows him that she already memorized most of the chores, which is truly amazing. He relaxes enough around them to make sarcastic comments and tease Chad.

Rehearsing is a lot of fun with them. It's also chaotic and loud, but Ryan really doesn't mind. Even Jason gets into it after a while.

They keep inviting Ryan to hang out with them after work or when they are on break. Eventually, it becomes a common occurrence for him to come walk into the kitchen. Common enough that Mr. Fulton doesn't blink anymore whenever he tries to be awful to them but can't because Ryan will quietly glare at him (He wouldn't need too. Mr. Fulton likes him, but he's slightly scared of Sharpay and follows her every word)

Taylor and Martha join him for his yoga classes.

Gabriella, Taylor, and he have that binging night. The next day, Taylor needs a triple shot espresso to function, and Gabriella nearly falls asleep on the job. Ryan walks into a wall; he's so tired, but it was definitely worth it. 

His mom notices the difference in him. Sharpay doesn't. It stings. 

Chad asks him once why he doesn't play Baseball at school. "We could use someone like you on the team," Ryan tells him that he wants to concentrate on acting and dancing as much as possible. He doesn't tell him that he never really noticed how much he missed the sport. 

Chad nudges him and laughs. They keep throwing a Baseball back and forth. 

Ryan does get dragged into the second employee Baseball game as well as a couple of smaller ones. He's always playing against Chad because both are super competitive, and it makes for a good match. 

Chad and Zeke try t teach him Basketball, but he doesn't really get it. Jason offers him one on one lessons for his extra dance training.

It takes a while for Ryan to notice how happy he is now that he has so many people to talk too.

He also noticed how hurt everyone is because of Troy's behavior, Chad and Gabi most of all. He tries to apologize to them for his sister, but they wave him off. "You are not your sister, Ryan. You shouldn't be taking the blame on you." (He nearly tears up)

Then, Sharpay manages to exclude them from the talent show, and Ryan feels like his world is crumbling around him. Gabi texts him that she broke up with Troy. Chad calls him later that night, and they talk about how weird this summer is. "But honestly, I am glad we are friends now, Ry. You are kind of awesome." 

Hatching a plan to get back at Sharpay is easy once Kelsi comes rushing into the kitchen, telling them how Troy turned Sharpay down. Taylor immediately calls Gabriella, and the four of them come up with a plan. Ryan is an expert on everything Lava Springs and Sharpay, Chad and Gabriella know Troy better than anyone else, and Taylor is a fucking genius. The others love the plan. 

He finds himself driving Kelsi over to Gabriella's house for a song rehearsal, and he stays to watch her sing, She looks less perky than usual, more exhausted. But she still has that spirit that keeps pulling everyone in, and when she smiles at him, he knows she'll be okay again. He is happy about that. 

Ryan feels guilty about playing Sharpay like this, but he still has her voice in his head, degrading him in every way possible without telling him he sucks. Kelsi tells him it's gonna be okay. 

When the big evening ends with Troy and Gabi back together, and the award in Ryan's hand like the exaggerated apology it is, Ryan thinks he's dreaming. 

For a short moment, Ryan thinks the team will ditch him now that they got Troy back, but they don't. They introduce him to Troy like he's the second-best thing that ever happened to them, and Troy makes an effort to get to know him. There are no rehearsals anymore, but basketball games, lazy baseball practice, impromptu dance battles with Martha, and more text conversations than Ryan's phone has ever handled. 

Sharpay starts making amends, She comes knocking on his door, and they talk. She writes apologies to Troy and Gabriella and Kelsi and delivers them personally. She grumbles all the way through writing them, but she smiles when they accept. 

They invite her to hang out with them, too, and she fits the group well. There's a blush on her face when Zeke presents her with cinnamon buns, and she starts holding his hand. Ryan just smiles, glad his sister might admit her crush on the boy now. 

Work at Lava Springs becomes more relaxed for the Wildcats after Fulton calms down. They get treated like everyone else, and while he's still strict on their break times, he lets them have more fun now. 

The end-of-summer-party Sharpay organizes is a hit. She plans to make it a standing event for employees from now on, no matter who they are. 

Then their Senior Year starts. Everything is the same, but also kind of different. Ryan grew a lot over the summer, and his friends helped him be more self-confident in a less arrogant way. 

Sharpay mellowed out a bit, too. It's partly because of the Wildcats accepting her into their group, partly due to her affection for Ryan and also because of Zeke spending a lot of time with her. Ryan might have caught them in the Evan's private kitchen once, both of them giggling as Zeke showed her how to make the cookies she loved so much. He didn't tell anyone. 

But then, Sharpay starts to fall back into her old ways some weeks into the school year. She snaps at Ryan, ignores Zeke, flirts with Troy, and tries to make Theater all about her again. 

Ryan doesn't know what's happening, and neither does anyone else. Zeke is a sad puppy all the time, and Jason spends a lot of time trying to cheer him up. 

However, Ryan is still quite settled. He visits all of Chad's games, Basketball and Baseball, and cheers his friends on. He tells Martha to audition for the cheerleaders and is her biggest fan once she gets in. Martha, Taylor, and he still do Yoga together twice a week with an instructor Ryan pays. When his dance class takes part in a competition, he gets cheered on by his friends. He and Gabriella have a standing movie night once a month, with brownies and whatever TV Shows they love. He and Kelsi still work great together, writing and choreographing the graduation musical, and they love to hang out outside of the show, too. There's not one day he doesn't get hundreds of text messages. 

His favorite text convos are the late-night ones with Chad and Gabi. They eventually morph into late-night-dinner-visits. Sometimes, Troy or someone else will join them. The Diner staff has a booth for them, and they have usual orders. 

Sharpay gets a PA. Ryan doesn't like Tiara. She makes him feel like he's worthless all over again, and there's a cold aura around her despite her playing nice. Gabriella tells him to keep an eye on her if she keeps making him feel that way. Taylor says he's far from worthless. 

Chad tells him  about how scared he is once it becomes clear that Troy might not be as set on the U of A as everyone thought. They met when they were five, and they did everything together since. The only difference would be Baseball and Golf, and that's why the summer was so hard for Chad. He can't imagine himself without Troy by his side. He doesn't know who he is when he's not Troy Bolton's best friend. Ryan isn't sure what to say, but he holds Chad when he starts to cry, and he promises him to help him figure out who he is. 

Ryan is the third person Gabriella tells about the program at Stanford. Her mom and Taylor both think she's acting childish, and she needs someone else to help her make a decision. Ryan holds her hand and carefully tells her that h thinks she needs to talk to Troy. He also tells her not to worry about the show, because that's not a problem she should concern herself with right now. Her future is calling, with an incredible opportunity, and he doesn't want her to regret missing out on it. 

Sharpay finds out about the program and tells Troy about it before Gabriella can. Ryan gets so angry, he yells at her. He doesn't understand why she's trying to ruin everyone's Senior Year. She hisses at him to grow up and leaves the house. 

Gabriella invites all of her friends to her house and tells them she'll graduate early and leave. She clutches Troy's hand so tightly her knuckles turn white, but he lets her. And then she's the center of a huge group hug. Jason grabs Chad, and they drive off to get them drinks and snacks, turning the whole meeting into a little goodbye party. 

At one point, Ryan finds himself standing next to Zeke on the balcony. Zeke confesses that he had been planning on asking Sharpay to be his prom date, but she broke up with him before the first posters popped up. Ryan has seen a lot of heartbreak lately, and Zeke might just be the worst. He can't do anything but listen, though, and Zeke gives him a sad little smile when Ryan drops him off at his house. 

Sharpay tries to win him for whatever plan she has, but he refuses. He's busy with school and the show and sad about Gabriella leaving, and he won't betray his friends. 

Kelsi tells him she's gay one morning when they sit at the piano in one of the music rooms and figure out the words for a song. She only told her parents and Jason so far. Ryan offers to take her to prom as friends because he hadn't planned on going with a romantic date anyway. 

He wonders when he became the person people trusted in, but it feels good to have them trust him, and he knows he can tell them everything, too. 

Rehearsals are less fun now. They still want to do the show, and they work their asses off, but Gabriella was more critical for the group dynamic than anyone had realized. They miss her like crazy, and seeing Troy act like a heartbroken puppy gets frustrating. They also have to deal with a sad Zeke, who has to watch Sharpay throw herself at Troy at any possible time. It's not easy. 

Late-night-diner-visits are just Ryan and Chad now. They are both comfortable in the presence of each other, but Gabriella is missing even here. When she tells them she won't be coming for prom and the show, they all get even more depressed, even when Gabi says she will be back for the graduation celebration. 

Troy leaves to get Gabriella back. He doesn't tell anyone until he's left the state, only sending a group message when there's no way of getting him back. His dad calls Chad and then Troy, ranting about how he should have said something so he could've gotten his parent's car, which would've been much safer for a trip like that. Nobody is surprised at Troy's actions, though.  

Prom without Troy and Gabriella is a little weird, but still lots of fun. Ryan dances with Kelsi and Martha and Taylor, and even Chad. Sharpay doesn't show, which makes Ryan worry. When he comes home late at night, he finds her curled up in his bed, fast asleep. He slips under the blanket and pulls her close, falling asleep with his sister in his arms. 

Sharpay is already awake when he opens his eyes the next morning, sitting on the bed in an old pair of pink sweatpants and one of Zeke's shirts. She's always well dressed, and the fact that she isn't right now tells Ryan that this is serious. He waits for her to speak first. 

She tells him about the Julliard chatroom she's been frequenting nearly every day since the summer. How she chatted with lots of people on there, all of them having the same dream. How she started to panic once she read some of their resumes and realized that her own resume had a lot of leading roles but also that understudy part of the spring musical from a year ago. She doesn't have a plan B, Julliard was always her first choice, and she can't let that go. So she started to push them all away and focused on getting herself a more significant role in the show. Flirting with Troy had already been a habit, Zeke would have held her back. Ryan is her twin, but it's only one scholarship, and while neither of them needs it, this scholarship is tied to the last free spot at Julliard. She tells him how she had never felt so alone, and that she's missing hanging out with them. She even misses Gabriella, and she doesn't like Tiara. "Nobody is that nice all the time, Ryan! Even Gabriella had her bad moments when she was around me." 

Ryan hugs her tight and makes her Pancakes and smoothies. Then he texts Zeke. 

Zeke turns up on their doorstep twenty minutes later, still in his PJs. Sharpay all but jumps into his arms, crying into his shoulder as he holds her. Ryan leaves them be and retires to his room to text Chad and Gabriella, only coming out when it becomes clear that they have to leave for the show. 

He gets to drive Sharpay's car for the first time ever because his sister refuses to let Zeke's hand go. He accepted her apology, and while he told her he would need some time to fully forgive her, he did kiss her softly. The two of them look a bit ridiculous with Zeke in his PJs and Sharpay having changed into a hot pink tracksuit, but Ryan's happy for them. 

Gabriella texts him that her mom is driving her and Troy back to East High, and to please get her a ticket. He promises her he'll put her mom on the guestlist.

East High is pretty empty. It's a Saturday, and the show won't be starting until much later. The time before is for making sure everything is okay, going through the whole thing once, warming up their voices and muscles, and trying to get rid of any complications they might get. Sharpay apologizes to all of them and explains her behavior, which leads to Ms. Darbus telling her how she should have just said something, and Kelsi would have written her a different storyline, something more substantial. Chad tells her he'll make her life a living hell if she treats Ryan like that ever again, but then he hugs Sharpay, and she smiles and lets him. 

Ryan quietly admits that he send applications for Sharpay to some other schools where she can study acting. Sharpay kisses him on the cheek and says he should've told her. 

Troy texts Chad that he isn't sure if he'll make it in time, so Kelsi pulls Rocket aside to help him go over the Song again. 

Sharpay finds Tiara in her wardrobe, showing her real face. The conversation unsettles her much after the whole emotional morning, and it takes Ryan a little while to calm her down again. 

The show is chaotic but good. Ryan enjoys every single minute of it. To everyone's relief, Troy and Gabriella make it in time for their first Song, which allows Sharpay to kick Tiara of the show, and the rest of them to breathe easy. 

He never doubted Kelsi would receive the scholarship, but hearing that they decided to take him on, too, is surreal and incredible, and he doesn't think Sharpay hugged him so hard in years. 

They throw an After Party right there in the Auditorium. There are music and drinks, and their parents stay to mingle. His mom tells Ryan that she already got a two-room-flat in New York, and he asks Kelsi to be his roommate so she won't have to worry about housing. 

Chad is still a bit upset about Troy's choice, but he tells him he'll be okay as long as Troy keeps in contact with him, and Troy swears Chad'll be annoyed with him by the end of the first term. 

Gabriella has to go back to Standford the next day, but this time around, it's okay. Troy still mops about, but now that he choose a University that won't be all that far away from her he's better. 

The rest of the school year goes by in a rush of exams and presentations. Ryan spends a lot of time on the living room floor, surrounded by notes and Sharpay, maybe even Zeke. 

Graduation day is fantastic and awful at once. Ryan cries. Everyone cries. They take more pictures together than is probably healthy, and Ryan is already picking out frames for his favorite ones mentally. 

Most of them still have a few weeks before they'll have to leave, but Taylor has to leave early, and so do Ryan and Kelsi. Gabriella will be staying a bit longer since her Semester won't be starting until Troy's does. 

Ryan's last night is spent at the diner with Chad, Gabi, and Sharpay. Sharpay offers Chad to room with her since her parents had gotten her a flat near Campus, and she knows that Chad would just have stayed at the dorms for the first year. It's a surprise, but Chad accepts happily, and Ryan feels they will work well. 

All of their friends gather to see Kelsi and Ryan off. Ryan gets hugged so much he starts to believe he won't be able to stand up without a pair of arms around his body. Gabriella makes him promise to text her as often as possible, Sharpay cries and says she'll be visiting him a lot, and Chad hugs him tightly enough to bruise a rip. 

Ryan loves Julliard. It's competitive and loud, but it's also passionated and flashy. He's surrounded by people who are just as taken with the showbusiness as he is, and while it's a bit hard to make genuine friends, he manages. 

Kelsi gets a girlfriend, and the three of them have movie nights at their apartment. 

Sharpay does visit them quite a lot. She brings Chad with her once, and Ryan spends the whole weekend showing his friend the city. Chad absolutely loves New York, and Ryan invites him for an extended stay during their next break. 

It's in his second year at Julliard that Ryan finally accepts the fact that he is gay. He thought he might be bisexual, but after a couple of make-out sessions with cute guys and no attraction whatsoever for any girl in his classes, he nods and sighs. There are no tears or break-downs. Instead, Kelsi gets him his favorite Milkshake, and they celebrate. 

Telling his family is easy. His parents have never been judgemental about sexuality, and Sharpay just shrugs and tells him not to steal her boyfriend. Ryan laughs and tells her Zeke would never leave her on his own free will. When he calls Gabriella, she says she'll love him anyway, and Troy teases him about crushing on cute actors. (Turns out Troy himself has a crush on Jensen Ackles, which they bond over).  

He tells Chad in person when he visits him at Chad's Uni. Chad is silent for a while, and then he nods and admits that he thinks he is bisexual himself. They get drunk and have a long discussion about sexuality. 

Ryan visits all the games of Troy and Chad in New York. They always get him tickets, and he will cheer them on loudly. 

His third year is so stressful, he nearly misses one of Chad's games. He's landed a leading role in a Julliard production while choreographing a smaller show on the side and is swapped with course work. He barely has time to sleep and eat. Kelsi's the same, their apartment filling with dirty dishes and clothes. But he finds Taylor standing at their door an hour before the game starts, and she presents both of them with tickets. 

Despite constantly texting, they have a lot to talk about. Taylor and Chad broke up shortly into their first year of University, but they are still close to each other, and Ryan kind of admires them for it. She tells him all about her new boyfriend and gushes with Kelsi about a movie they had watched recently. 

The four decide to go out for Pizza after Chad finds them, freshly showered and grinning brightly from winning the game. He looks incredibly handsome and relaxed, and Ryan finds himself staring at him more than once. 

It takes one more visit for Chad and Ryan to finally kiss. It's January, and they are sitting on the roof of Ryan's apartment building. Wrapped in blankets, and with warm cocoa, watching the sky. Later, neither can tell if one of them started it or both leaned in at the same time, but it doesn't really matter. All that matters are their lips meeting softly, Ryan's hands in Chad's hair, and Chad's fingers searching for warm skin. It's slow and sweet, and it goes on forever. 

Long-distance is easier for them than they expected. They've been friends for nearly five years at this point, and they spent three of those apart. Now, they call and text more, and visits get a bit more frequent, but both are willing to work hard. Kelsi says it shows. 

Telling their friends and families isn't a big deal. Gabriella squeals so loudly, Ryan is sure he'll get tinnitus. Troy calls him to say he'll hurt him if he hurts Chad, but also to call him if Chad's an asshole. Sharpay hugs them both, and threatens Chad with detailed revenge plans should he hurt her brother. Their parents invite the pair for dinner. 

Graduating from Julliard feels as unreal as leaving High School, but Ryan has already secured his first job as a choreographer for a dance show, and he's happy. 

Sharpay moves to New York and brings Zeke with her, who landed a fancy bakery job and still dreams about opening his own one in the future. He starts a YouTube channel, and Sharpay gets cast for a Broadway production. 

The invitations for Troy's and Gabriella's wedding don't surprise anyone. Chad is Troy's best man, and Gabi asks Ryan to be the ring bearer. It's a beautiful wedding. Ryan cries. 

Chad moves to New York two years after graduating college, signing with the Knicks and asking Ryan to move in with him. They made it work so far, and while both their schedules are packed, they also make it work when living together. 

The ten-years-reunion of their class takes place in Lava Springs. They kept in contact with most of their friends from High School, so nothing is really a surprise. Some of the other people are surprised at seeing Chad and Ryan kiss, but Nobody says anything. 

Bonus:

Kelsi wins a Tony for her very first musical. She works with Ryan on another stage production, and both of them get an award. 

Chad stays with the knicks, and Ryan keeps cheering him one while wearing his High School Trikot. Tumblr loves them, and they get listed as one of the Top 15 Power-Couples, even though none of them are sure why. 

Zeke and Sharpay break up two more times before she proposes to him. He never opens a bakery, because his YouTube channel picks up so much he doesn't need too. They move into a place with a bigger kitchen. 

I have no idea what Troy does, but whatever it is, he's happy. 

Lava Springs somehow gets to be where their whole group meets up once a year for a weekend. Mr. and Mrs. Evans are glad to welcome them, and Mr. Fulton likes to tease them about the Star Dazzle Award. 

Chad proposes to Ryan a year after gay marriage becomes legal in all fifty states. 

Ryan loves it when Chad kisses his temple, while Chad practically melts whenever Ryan plays with his hair 

[imagine-darksiders]

Hey there, I’m not sure if you still take requests or anything but agh, I’ve been going through a really rough depressive episode since Christmas and your blog brings me such joy. I was wondering if you’d be kind enough to write something about War saving reader from demons or something along those lines? Or even just something fluffy? No pressure of course, if you’re not up to it that’s fine :)

Sorry this took so long, hope you’re doing a bit better now, though if not, maybe this will at least cheer you up for a few minutes <3 <3

War X Reader. 

---

When you ran into the formidable Red Rider in the ruined streets of your old home city, you knew without a doubt that you were gaping up at a veritable force of nature, rather than a man.

War turned out to be everything the name suggests.

Physically, he's enormous - taller than you by at least a few heads and broad as an ox, cloaked in red and covered from head to toe in weathered battle armour the colour of gun smoke. His pale face – half hidden by a crimson hood – seems to be etched with a permanent scowl that only ever shifts if he's snarling or unleashing a blood-curdling battle cry. Not once in all the time you've been travelling with him have you seen him crack a smile.

Although, you suppose, a Horseman of the Apocalypse might not have a reason to smile, nor an inclination to.

'Oh well,' you muse as you follow the gruff and stoic behemoth through the inner-city graveyard one foggy night, 'He's better company than the demons, at least.'

War certainly wouldn't have been your first choice of travelling companion, just as you're sure you aren't his. Yet, as circumstance dictates, if you want to stay alive, you'll just have to put up with his imposing presence and general lack of social graces.

All of a sudden, you're halted in your tracks when an enormous, metal gauntlet catches you roughly in the stomach, the fingers splayed wide against your shirt.

Slightly winded, you open your mouth and a wheeze shoots out. “What?” you choke, throwing War a nervous glance. He merely stands there in utter silence with his head turning on a slow and constant swivel whilst a pair of icy, blue eyes scan the graveyard, searching. After a few seconds, you swallow down a lump and hesitantly ask, “You see something, big guy?”

The Horseman's broad chest puffs out at the nickname, though you can't tell whether it swells from indignation or pride. However, instead of offering clarity, he reaches up with his free hand and tugs his sword – Chaoseater – from its place strapped to his back, and at the same time, he begins to push firmly at your belly, forcing you backwards. “H-hey!” you yelp, “What're you doing?!”

Before you can protest further, your spine hits something cold and solid and you whip your head over a shoulder to see that you've been unceremoniously herded up against a large, mould-caked headstone. Sending a quick, mental apology to the owner laying buried just below your feet, you crane your neck around War's bulk in an attempt to see the cemetery beyond him, only to have your vision promptly obscured by the appearance of familiar, billowing smoke. In another second, the mass of darkness has taken on a much more tangible form and you suddenly find that the minimal space where you're sandwiched between a Horseman and a headstone has been invaded by the Watcher.

“What's the hold up?” his wispy voice hisses in your ear and forces you to fight back a shudder at the chill his trailing, vaporous tail leaves when it brushes against your legs.

“Dunno,” you reply in a whisper, “I think War sees something.”

The Horseman in question lets out a low grunt. “Not see.. Smell,” he clarifies, which is as descriptive an explanation as he's inclined to give, apparently.

Scoffing, the Watcher mutters, “All I can smell is this rancid human standing next to me...”

“If you don't want to smell me, then why are you hovering so close,” you shoot back, swatting at the wisps of smoke that escape from the top of his head until he draws back to a less suffocating distance. Still, with your curiosity peaked at War's strange admission, you tilt your head back and sniff idly at the air. “It just smells... earthy? Uh, and kind of sweet, I guess, like-”

“- death...” the Nephilim finishes.

You fall silent for a couple of seconds, using the time to share a bemused glance with the Watcher. “A graveyard that smells like death, huh?” you smirk, noticing that all six of the sprite's eyes are now glimmering with amusement,“Wonders will never cease.”

While he may be far from a fan, the Watcher still takes great delight in seeing you poke fun at War, and of course, he can hardly resist jumping in with a jab of his own. “Next, he'll complain that a forest smells of wood,” he sneers.

You're not quite fast enough to bite back a laugh as it bursts out of your throat.

“Quiet.” War's growl causes your mouth to snap shut and the Watcher bristles irritably, preparing to remind the Horseman of his place when the blood red hood twists to one side and you briefly catch a glimpse of War's striking, blue eye. He doesn't look angry at you though, or at least, no angrier than usual. Instead, if you didn't know any better, you'd swear you can detect the barest sliver of confusion as the Horseman peers down at you and asks, “Do you hear that?”

Furrowing your brows, you cock your head and listen intently to the eerie ambiance of the graveyard.

To begin with, there's nothing especially out of the ordinary, only the creaking of rusty hinges as the wrought-iron gates swing to and fro in a gentle breeze and the skittering of leaves against the cobblestone path somewhere nearby, or the soft 'ssshk,' 'ssshk,' 'ssshk,' that breaks up the monotony of near-silence -....

 “Wait a second,” you murmur, holding a finger up and going completely still, straining your ears to hear the shifting, shucking sound coming from somewhere very close by. So close, you can feel the vibrations through your.... feet? 

The Horseman locks eyes with you and all at once, your heart plummets into your shoes when, at the exact same time as War and the Watcher, you realise exactly where the bizarre sound is coming from and all three of you drop your gazes to the heaped dirt you've been standing on.

There isn't even a split second to react before a cold, clammy hand suddenly shoots out of the loose soil below you and latches itself around your ankle, gripping with a supernatural strength that causes your bones to grind painfully together. Although you know that screaming is the absolute last thing you ought to do in the middle of a demon-infested city, the unexpectedness of being grabbed it sends a bloodcurdling shriek jumping up your neck and out of your mouth, drowning the graveyard in a noise like an especially shrill dinner bell.

Sensing the impending battle, the Watcher swiftly disappears back into War's gauntlet as the Nephilim lunges towards you and curls his fist into the front of your shirt, wrenching you towards his chest without thinking too hard on the consequences of doing so. The motion does rip you free of the sinewy hand that flails in the air afterwards in search of its lost victim, but in doing so, long strips of your skin are left behind, embedded underneath the vicious claws of whatever had a hold of your ankle.

Gritting your teeth against the sting, you spin about, feeling your back hit the Horseman's sturdy chest and he keeps you tucked under him for a moment, his lips curling into a snarl as the two of you stare down at the emerging arm that braces itself against the soil. Then, in a fashion hideously similar to that of those old zombie movies you used to watch, the earth begins to rise as the monstrosity buried beneath it heaves itself up and out of its premature grave.

The sweet stench of rot hits your nose full force now, but you hardly even register it, too busy gaping at a grinning skull that emerges from the tumbling dirt, its empty eye sockets and parting jaw filled with soil and worms, all of which are flung in every direction when the living skeleton wrenches the rest of its body onto solid land.

Your startled yelp is swallowed as War promptly tries to swing you behind him, letting go of your arm in the process and inadvertently sending you crashing to the ground at his heels. Not that you can complain about the rough treatment however, for not a second later, the skeleton throws itself at him and lets out a shriek of outrage that cuts through you as sharp as any knife.

The Horseman, apparently having recovered from the unexpected attack, simply lifts his gauntlet and engulfs the monstrosity's skull when it leaps within range. In a rather anticlimactic turn of events, the skeleton's assault is cut short and now it resorts to scrabbling furiously at War's metallic fingers. You forget that for a man as large as he is, the Nephilim can move extraordinarily fast.

However, before you can marvel for much longer at War's impressive catch, you stiffen, splaying your fingers over the ground underneath you and twisting your head around to watch a few, nearby pebbles skitter up and down in place.

“U-um, War?” you gulp, now painfully aware of a continuous and thunderous rumble coming from deep under the earth, as though an enormous train is careening along on its tracks somewhere far below you.

At the sound of your timid voice, the Horseman spares a glance over his shoulder and sees you sprawled out on the ground, your attention turned to the graves lining an iron fence several metres behind him. Casting the skeleton dangling from his fist a last, fearsome grunt, War flexes his gauntlet. There's a sickening 'crack!' and the creature's flailing limbs fall perturbingly still. He tosses it dismissively to one side and you hear the clatter of broken bones hit the stone nearby as the Horseman turns fully and blinks down at you, his eyes going immediately to the bloody welts left in your ankle. 

Sensing his gaze, you whip your head about and almost gasp at the wrathful expression he's subjecting your injury to. One side of the Nephilim's mouth and nose scrunches up until he's giving you a very uninterrupted view of his gleaming teeth and you find yourself swallowing loudly, your heart throwing itself against your ribcage so violently, you'll hardly be surprised if it manages to break out of its bony prison. Your eyes fly nervously to War's hand as he forces it out of the tight fist it had curled into, regarding him closely when he raises it, draws back in hesitation for a moment before at last reaching down towards you.

He doesn't manage to get far though, because just then, the rumbling you'd been feeling reaches a crescendo and there's a sudden cacophony of howls and bellows all around you, filling every corner of the dark graveyard like a terrible orchestra playing its funeral march.

War tears his eyes off you and raises his head, leering hard at another skeleton that bursts out of its tomb, though it’s soon followed by a second, then a third, and after that, you stop counting because the knowledge of how many undead are suddenly surrounding you makes you feel queasy and light-headed.

A veritable plethora of skeletal monsters, each varying in shape and size, turn their skulls in your direction, their hateful, burning glares washing over you with the force of a tidal wave and you wonder if you're the object of their ire because they're envious of your life, or hungry for your flesh.

Regardless, neither leads to a favourable outcome for you.

You're almost embarrassed at the sob that manages to push out from between your tightly closed lips, but staring into the faces of creatures you know had once been human is a little more than you're equipped to handle.

Behind you, War's immense shoulders bristle when he realises that the majority of skeletons have their sights set undeniably on the vulnerable human sitting near his boots. In response to the clear threat, something angry rushes to curl itself around the Horseman's heart. At the very epicentre of his swirling rage, he becomes aware of only one thing. Those skeletons are standing between his charge and safety – and that, War will not permit.

Like a murderous river eddying around a fern, the Nephilim steps out in front of you and plants his feet firmly on the ground, an immovable barrier of flesh and metal standing protectively between you and the salivating undead.

Once again, you find yourself with a grave at your back and the Horseman to your front. 

Then, all of a sudden, something changes. 

Still subjecting the skeletons to his loathing glare, War falls back a few steps, moving himself around and to your rear where he proceeds to crouch over you, his chest pressing uncomfortably against the top of your head until you get the message and bend forwards as well, twisting your neck about to shoot him a wary glance but finding his eyes are still trained on the circle of creatures surrounding you. He plants one hand into the soil, digging in with the clawed tips of his gauntlet whilst with the other, he raises Chaoseater high above your heads where it lingers, poised and waiting - for what however, you have no idea.

As the bloodthirsty blade begins to hum in anticipation, you try to twist your neck around to peer up at War, hoping that your horrified expression accurately conveys the question you want to ask. 'What the Hell are you doing!?'

He doesn't look back at you.

With the skeletons prowling towards you like a pack of circling, salivating dogs, he can’t afford to lose focus.

You're not ashamed to say you let out a hoarse cry when, without warning, they all charge as one.

The skeletons are just a few feet from being right on top of you but as they close in, one of your hands flies up to cover your face and in the same moment, War suddenly brings Chaoseater down hard, plunging the blade's tip into the ground mere inches from your toes.

No sooner has it breached surface soil than a dozen more blades burst up from within the earth, each resembling the Horseman's treasured sword. 

The skeletons don't stand a chance. 

Like a shockwave, the ethereal blades that have been conjured from seemingly nowhere continue to erupt out of the ground and take the charging undead by surprise.

Femurs, rib cages and tibias are obliterated in less than a second, skulls are thrust from the ends of spines as Chaoseater's earth-bound friends impale the skeletons from below, a place where they never would have guessed an attack could come from.

You can feel the heat of the blades closest to you, hot enough to singe some of the hairs off your legs, no doubt. 

Then, just as soon as they appeared, they begin to retract back inside the earth, and when the dust settles and you lower your arm to look, all that's left is a scattering of bones, strewn about the vicinity. Blank, featureless skulls stare back up at you through unseeing eyes, dead – for what you really hope is the last time.

“Ho-lee crap,” you breathe shakily, flopping back onto your elbows and knocking your head against the underside of War's chest, adding, “Ow,” at the latter.

“You're hurt...” The rumble of the Horseman's voice rolls gently over you, prompting you to glance up, only to find a pair of bright, blue eyes blinking back down at you.

Lifting a hand, you rub absently at the spot where you'd bumped your skull into his armour. “I'm all right, that didn't actually hurt.”

“No,” he insists in a growl and roves his gaze down to the scratches on your ankle. You follow his glare, blanching at the sight of the gouges left behind in your skin and grimace, bracing your hands on the ground in an attempt to pick yourself up. You hardly manage to get one foot underneath you before a large, metal hand promptly grabs the back of your shirt and lifts you effortlessly into the air. “Hey!” you squirm, trying to stretch your toes to find purchase on the ground, “Put me down, War. I can stand up by myself!.”

The Horseman makes a skeptical sound at the back of his throat, but he does lower you – albeit hesitantly – until your shoes meet the dirt once more.

Any confidence in the strength of your legs is short-lived however the moment his hand withdraws.

You take a step, only to find yourself immediately punished for the action when a white-hot bolt of pain lances up from your ankle and you cry out, teetering sideways and trying to hop desperately for a few seconds on your good leg. 

Just then, there's a deep sigh of exasperation and War's gauntlet is at your side in the next second, sliding around your waist and nudging you upright again.

“Here, sit down. Let me see it,” he murmurs, and you hesitate to say he's gentle when he turns you around and attempts to guide you to the ground once more.

“Are you sure it's a good idea to stop?” you ask, leaning out of his grasp to glance around the shadowy cemetery, “I mean, that wasn't exactly a quiet fight...”

The implication hangs in the air between you and after a moment, War draws his head up and blinks, the strategist in him concurring with you. “That is... a fair point,” he mumbles and if you weren't so grateful to him for keeping you alive, you'd be insulted that he sounds surprised by your common sense.

In keeping with the typical, straight-forward bluntness you've come to expect from him, War wastes no time in bending down and extending his arms, aiming to scoop you off your feet. “Come,” he declares, “I shall carry you to Ulthane. He will know best how to treat a human's wound.”

The Horseman’s permanent frowns deepens though, when you hop away from him on your good leg, splaying your hands out to stop him from proceeding. Undeterred however, he gives you a warning glower and huffs, “Keep still.”

“W-woah, hold on now,” you protest, stumbling back as he once again tries to reach for you,  “Seriously, War, thank you. But I can walk, I'm not a baby who needs to be carried!”

“You are injured.”

His tone implies that he's angry, but the way he's now staring at your leg makes you consider whether he's angry at you, or something else entirely. “Wait, what if... what if you need to use your sword?” you point out, “You won't be able to if your arms are full of me.”

You can tell that he's far from happy, but he tilts his head, pondering you for a moment longer before huffing brusquely and averting his fiery gaze. “Very well,” he grumbles, adding, “But if you fall again, don't expect me to catch you.”

The Horseman's acquiescence, if nothing else, at least reassures you that you won't be a total liability. Satisfied for the time being, you nod and turn about, starting to hobble off towards the cemetery gates, confident that the enormous Nephilim will overtake you in a few, steady strides. You make it all of five steps before your ankle turns to jelly and seems to lose all of its bone structure, collapsing out from under you and as you topple sideways once again, arms flailing, you idly wonder whether the damage is only skin-deep.

Luckily, whatever jarring impact you might have made with the stone path is prevented by a strong set of arms that emerge like a pair of safety nets and sweep underneath your knees and shoulders, letting you fall harmlessly into a secure hold. Gasping, you tip your head back and sheepishly risk a glance at the Horseman, meeting his disapproving frown. At the sight of it, you try and push against his broad chest to put some distance between yourself and his ire, but he soon silences you with a throaty growl that reverberates through your head.

Pursing your lips, you reluctantly give up on your meagre effort of trying to escape the warrior and instead let yourself flop gracelessly in his hold. “Hmph.. I thought you said not to expect you to ca-” War whips his head down to glare at you so fast, you instantly allow your mouth to click shut and decide – perhaps wisely - not to finish that sentence.

[birdy-bat-writes]

Headcanon- Birdflash Besties

Requested by @offendedfishnoises I love you to the moon and back, Fish! Theres a second HC coming right after this, because I’m in a wally west mood.

A/N: I’m so horribly sick and I cant even tell if this was actually good, but it got me in my birdflash heart. @river-bottom-nightmare sob with me.

Comments are always appreciated!

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-       Wally and Dick are absolute madlads. When they’re together, good luck to anyone around them.

-       Dick and Wally spend endless hours on the manor. Not in it; ON it. These two geniuses like to climb the exterior and walk on the roof. Dick gets a kick out of giving Wally a little heart attack by doing flips on the roof tiles.

-       Once, Dick almost slipped and Wally freaked out and rushed to catch him, but the little surge of lightning blew the power out of the manor. Needless to say, they ran to central city for a bit.

-       Wally calls Dick for fashion advice. Dick will always tell Wally he looks fine as is. He’s not used to Wally being in anything other baseball tees, and sweaters.

-       Dick canonically hates dressing up for events and wearing ties and junk but over time he’s learned to accept that he has to. Not at all because they make him look hot.

-       When Wally was coming to his first gala, back when they were kids, Dick had to begrudgingly fix Wally’s bow tie. He did it only once and Wally memorized it. From now on, when Dick get lazy and unwilling to get dressed, Wally forces him to put on his suit, and hand ties the bow tie for him. Sometimes he tries different colors.

-       Dick has a favorite sandwich shop in central city and when Wally misses Dick, he’ll go to that sandwich shop and order Dick’s go to order.

-       Sometimes, Wally will order two sandwiches and speed to Gotham city. The first time it happened was cute.

-       “Hi, Alfred….is Dick here?”

-       *smiles* “He’s on the basketball court.”

-       ***

-       “Hey…...!”

-       “Wally? What are you doing here?” Dick was surprised but happy as heck. He wanted to spend more time with Wally but was afraid to ask or bring it up. One of the perks of having an emotionally stunted dad is that you’re afraid to ask for companionship.

-       “I was at the sandwich shop you liked, and I thought I’d bring this over!” He looked so happy. The emotion was evidently contagious because Dick cracked the biggest smile Wally had ever seen and all nerves melted away.

-       They walked along the manor grounds eating their sandwiches and played a game of horse after. Special rules: No flipping, no superspeed.

-       It became a normal occurrence after that. Wally speeds over and Dick just greets him with “Aww you missed me.” And big sarcastic grin.

-       Dick keeps Wally’s favorite snacks scattered in his room, the yj headquarters and the titans tower. Even in his car.

-       Dick has actually randomly taken a train to central city at 2:00 am to go see Wally after he came back from a long mission because he really missed him.

-       Little did he know, that Wally called Alfred to ask if Dick was back yet and when Alfred said he went to the train station, Wally made his way there and waited for the 3:00 am train arriving from Gotham.

-       Neither of them were even surprised to see each other when the doors opened.

-       “How rough was that mission? You look like crap.”

-       “Gee, what a warm welcome.” And then they hug and head to his place where they catch up over the bottle of beer.

-       Dick feels emotionally exhausted if he spends too much time around other people. He needs time alone in a day to recharge.

-       The only person who doesn’t drain his social battery is Wally because Wally is the only person, he doesn’t have to put up the “smooth easy-going cool guy” persona around.

-       Dick is the only person Wally truly opens up to.

-       They keep a change of clothes at each other’s houses and spare supersuits.

-       Wally and Dick once saved a baby bird in a park outside the hall of justice and every time they visit, they check on the nest.

-       After 3 years of constantly checking, they’ve found that the baby bird grew up and built its own nest in the same tree and even had babies.

-       They named that bird and call it their child.

-       They know each other’s coffee orders and will bring each other coffee and muffins by default if they’re meeting early.

-       Wally has a pair of nightwing swimming shorts and Dick has a pair of Flash swimming shorts. They will wear them to the pool together and never say anything about it. They were matching gag gifts.

-       Dick takes lattes with espresso shots and cinnamon, and Wally takes coffee with a dash of creamer. Wally always takes blueberry muffins and Dick will take a croissant. They never actually told each other the orders. They just kinda picked it up.

-       Wally always knows when Dick isn’t feeling well, and Wally is the only person who can convince Dick to take a break.

-       Dick has felt he’s had to prove himself his entire life to everyone. Wally is the only person who’s been his constant and their friendship isn’t conditional. They both know that.

-       When Dick “died”, Wally ordered Dick’s favorite drink at a bar every night even though he couldn’t feel any effects of alcohol. He also suddenly found himself taking lattes with espresso shots.

-       When Dick came back, Wally gave him the “Ohhh, who said ‘Do me a favor and don’t die again’??? YOU DID. And look what you went and did! Died. That’s hypocrisy. You’re a hypocrite! Omg, how could you?! I love you so much dude, don’t you ever do that again! Get yourself a helmet. Jason’s got the right idea. Never leave me again.” All while he’s hugging Dick so tight, he may have stopped breathing.

-       Meanwhile Barbara and Conner and everyone else is waiting so meet dick after his return and they just can’t because Wally is hogging him and twirling him like a rag doll. Dick just accepted it. So did everyone else.

-       These two have adorable little mementos. The first bullet that dick ever had to pull out of Wally on a mission was turned into a penny and gifted to Wally on the anniversary of him joining the team.

-       Dick goes through a lot of domino masks, but Wally kept the last one he used as Robin in a little case with Flash symbol that was on his Kidflash suit. They both look at the case as Nightwing and the Flash.

-       They are besties to end of time and long after.

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Taglist: @anothertimdrakestan @offendedfishnoises @comicsandhoney @river-bottom-nightmare @catxsnow @cries-in-fangirl-23 @batarella @idkmanicantenglish @hauntingsonofrobin @l-inkage @subtleappreciation @ereaaa Message me or comment if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Let Me Save You - Sirius Black

Title: Let Me Save You Pairing: Sirius x Fem!Reader Summary: Y/N will do whatever it takes to save the ones she loves, even if it means joining the dark side. A/N: for the anon who wanted Sirius helping his girlfriend after she takes the dark mark! This is the first time I’ve written a full imagine for Sirius, so I hope it’s okay!! Feedback is always welcome!!! Tags: @feltondarling​ @pandaxnienke​ @raerae27​

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Sirius’ first thought when he boards the Hogwarts Express with James after the Christmas holiday is Y/N. They’ve only been apart two weeks, but for him it feels like an eternity. It doesn’t help that most of his letters went unanswered, and when she did write her letters were short and uneventful.

Sirius and James race each other to their usual compartment, shoving each other as they run. James just barely cuts in front of Sirius as they reach the door and he grins up at his friend as he plops down next to Lily, slightly out of breath.

“Better luck next time, Pads,” James teases, throwing an arm around Lily.

Sirius flips James off as he collapses on the bench across from them. He looks around the compartment, frowning when he doesn’t spot Y/N. Marlene is seated between Lily and Wormtail, and Mooney is sitting a few spaces away from Sirius, dead asleep with his head leaning against the window. “Where’s Y/N?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Lily responds leaning into James’ side. “I figured she was with you guys.”

“You don’t think she’s not coming back, do you?” Marlene asks, a worried look on her face.

James rolls his eyes. “Why do you always have to be so dramatic, Mar? Maybe she’s in the loo or got caught up talking to someone. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”

Marlene reaches behind Lily to smack James upside the head. “Shove it, Potter. I’m being serious.” Marlene leans in and drops her voice to a whisper. “We all know what her family is like. Things with the war have only been getting worse. Maybe they’re not letting her come back.”

“I hate to admit it but what if Marlene is right?” Lily asks, her face contorting into the same worried look that’s on Marlene’s. “She didn’t return any of the letters I sent over break, and Remus said he didn’t hear from her either.”

James nudges Sirius’ leg with his foot. “You wrote to her a bunch, Pads. You get anything back?”

Sirius nods lamely. “One or two letters, if you could even call them that. She didn’t say much in either of them. Mainly just bullshit pleasantries.” Sirius runs his hand through his hair and closes his eyes, leaning back into his seat.

He’s known Y/N since he was a little boy, her family is part of the Sacred 28 as well, and their parents have been friends since they were kids. Even though they spent quite a bit of time together growing up, Sirius and Y/N only truly became friends when they both started at Hogwarts. Like him, she was the first in her family to be sorted into Gryffindor and they quickly bonded over being the family disappointment. They started dating just before the beginning of their 5th year, and now halfway through 7th year Sirius is sure that Y/N is going to be the woman he marries.

“She seemed fine on the train ride home at the end of term last year,” Wormtail adds. “Something must have happened during the break.”

Sirius’ eyes snap open as the train starts to move. “I can’t just sit here. I’m gonna go see if I can find her.”

Before anyone can stop him Sirius is out of the compartment, frantically heading down the hall.

-

“Where the hell were you?” Sirius asks as he engulfs Y/N in a hug. They’ve all just stumbled into the Great Hall worried about their missing friend, only to find her already sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Y/N returns Sirius’ hug lamely before pulling him down beside her. “Sorry, love. I got to the train late so I just sat in the first compartment I could find.”

Sirius watches her for a few moments as his arm winds around her waist. He can tell that she’s lying, but he’s not sure exactly why. Wormtail was right on the train, she’d been acting fine all term, and had been joking around with Sirius and everyone else on the train back to Kings Cross. Something must have happened at home, that’s the only way to explain her distant behavior. Y/N had cut herself off from all of them over the break, and even now as she talks with Lily Sirius can see that her smile isn’t genuine, and there’s no light behind her eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sirius whispers in her ear when Lily turns her attention towards something Remus has said.

“Nothing, Sirius. I’m fine,” Y/N responds, trying to sound genuine. But in reality, she’s dying on the inside.

Spending time at home with her family is mentally and emotionally draining, and after the events that went down over Christmas Y/N just doesn’t feel like herself anymore. But she has to put on a fake smile, for her sake and her friends. They can’t know what really happened over the break, and if she wants to keep them safe she has no choice but to start slowly pulling away from those she loves most, Sirius included.

It’s no secret to anybody, especially her friends, that Y/N’s family are willing to do anything to keep their money and their power. Even though she’s well and truly the black sheep of the family, they expect the same things out of her. There’s a war brewing in the Wizarding World, and up until Christmas break Y/N and her family had been on opposite sides of it. But Y/N would do anything to protect the people she loves, and so on Christmas Eve Y/N stood in the middle of her family’s living room and took the Dark Mark.

The Mark burns with pain every time she thinks about it, but Y/N knows she deserves it. Whether she truly believes in Voldemort’s mission or not, she’s now one of his slaves. She’d done it to protect her younger brother, who was supposed to be the one taking the Mark. But he’s barely 15, and Y/N couldn’t stand there and watch her parents ruin his life. She also did it to protect Lily, her sweet Muggleborn best friend who was already on Voldemort’s radar as a target. And she did it to protect Sirius, who had already been cast from his home and no longer afforded the same protections from Voldemort’s torture as the rest of the Black family.

If taking the Dark Mark is what it takes to save her friends’ lives, then she’d do it over and over again.

“If you’re sure,” Sirius murmurs, before pulling Y/N into a deep kiss. She’s his whole entire world, and he’s willing to wait for her to be ready to open up to him. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Y/N nods and lets her hands tangle in his hair for a brief moment. “Of course, Sirius. I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

-

It starts off slowly. Y/N knows the only way to truly keep all of her friends safe is to keep her distance. But just immediately cutting them off would be too obvious. So she starts by heading to breakfast early, so by the time all of her friends are awake and heading to the Great Hall, she’s already on her way to the first lesson of the day. The first few times Sirius questions her, since normally Y/N likes to sleep in until the last possible second. But she brushed his concerns away, simply stating that she never gets to sleep in at home, and she’s gotten used to rising early. Everyone seems a little confused, but they accept her explanation anyway.

Next she moves her seat in all of her classes, so she’s no longer sitting by her friends. They don’t all have every class together, so it takes them all a while to figure it out. Lily confronts Y/N about it during lunch after Potions, when she’d completely ignored Lily and sat next to Severus of all people. Again, Y/N had tried to brush off their concerns casually. Her parents had gotten on her about her grades during break and sitting with her friends would only distract her.

Then she stops hanging out in the common room. Whenever there’s downtime everyone is usually piled up in front of the fire, messing around or playing games. But Y/N is always absent. She either hides away in her dorm room with a book or is in a dark corner of the library doing schoolwork. The first half dozen times it happens one of her friends always seeks her out, usually Sirius or Lily, and they try and coax her back to the common room. But she always denies their offer, either blaming it on her large amount of schoolwork to prep for NEWTS or feigning some kind of illness. Eventually they stop trying, no matter how much it pains them to do so.

The final straw is when Y/N stops sitting with her friends at all. They come down for dinner one night and find that she’s not sitting at their usual spot at the Gryffindor table. Instead she’s at the far end of the table, sandwiched between a group of first years and a group of fourth years. No matter how hard they try no one can get her to come sit with them, even Sirius’ best puppy dog eyes, which can make even Lily melt.

“So, what are we going to do about her?” Remus asks one night over dinner. Y/N has just left the Great Hall, walking by them without even sparring any one a glance.

“She’s being a proper bitch, I don’t know why we need to do anything. She doesn’t want us to be friends with her anymore? Fuck her then,” Marlene sneers, clearly using anger to cover up the hurt she’s feeling.

Lily throws her arm around Marlene’s shoulder, pulling her in tightly. “It’s okay, Mar. I miss her too.” She turns to Sirius then. “Got any ideas?”

Sirius shrugs. “She doesn’t even look at me anymore. Not sitting with us in class or choosing not to hang out with us is one thing, but the silent treatment? It’s killing me. Something must have happened during break and she won’t talk about it.”

“Have you talked to your brother lately?” James asks suddenly.

“Regulus? No, why?” Sirius asks, his tone lit with confusion.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I’ve seen him and Y/N talking in the halls a few times while doing Head Boy stuff after curfew. Snivellous was there once or twice too. Seemed like they were talking about something serious, and once they’d spot me they’d all run off.”

Sirius frowns. “So she can talk to that greaseball and my brother but not talk to me?”

Remus sighs. “I think this is far worse than any of us have imagined.” When everyone turns to look at him he continues. “We know Snape has a pension for Dark Arts, and it’s likely that Sirius’ family has aligned themselves with You-Know-Who, right? Well who’s family is close friends with the most ancient and noble house of Black?” He lets the question hang in the air for a moment, but no one has to answer, they all know who it is. “Sirius, you suspected that your parents had made Regulus take the Dark Mark over the summer, after you ran away. What do you think are the odds that Y/N’s family have forced her to take it as well?”

Lily gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. “That makes sense. As much as I hate to admit it, it makes sense. I mean of all the people to sit next to in Potions she sat next to Snape. That never made sense to me, she knows how vile he is, the vile things he’s said about me. But I’d bet all the money in the world that Snape has taken the Mark as well and that’s why she’s talking to him and Regulus.”

“Alright, that’s it,” Sirius says, standing up. “I can’t just sit here and theorize about what might be happening. I’m going to go find Y/N and make her talk to me. Whether she’s taken the Dark Mark or not, something is wrong, and I can’t just watch her suffer.”

-

When the door to the dorm creeps open, Y/N figures it’s Alice or Mary coming to grab something quickly. Lily and Marlene stopped checking up on her ages ago. So she’s surprised when Sirius walks into their dorm. He looks like a mixture of concerned and angry, and it makes Y/N’s chest aches.

“What?” she asks coldly, turning her attention back to her book.

Sirius doesn’t say anything at first, choosing to watch Y/N as he comes over and sits on the edge of her bed. “We need to talk.”

“Didn’t you get the hint? I don’t want to talk to you.” Y/N hates having to be like this with Sirius. He’s always been the person she trusted most in this world, but now she has to let him go. As painful as it is for the both of them.

Sirius crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t care about what you want. You’re in pain, Y/N. And you can’t lie your way out of it. I know you too well. I can see it in your eyes. Please just stop pushing me away so I can help you.”

Y/N slams her book shut and puts it down on the bed. “It’s too late for you to help me, okay? So just give it a rest. It’s in everyone’s best interest to just stop thinking about me and stop caring about me, okay?”

Sirius watches Y/N storm towards the door and he reaches out, grabbing her forearm. She immediately winces and tears her arm from his grasp. Sirius’ eyes widen and fear washes over him. “You have it, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N responds lamely, looking down at her hands.

Sirius clears his throat. “The Dark Mark. It’s on your forearm, isn’t it?”

Y/N shakes her head and pushes past Sirius and heads back towards your bed. “You’re out of your mind, Sirius. Now just leave me alone please.”

“Not until you show me your arm, Y/N,” Sirius demands firmly. He already knows what he’ll see when she finally rolls her sleeve up, but he needs to see it. He needs to know that this is really happening.

Y/N sniffles as she turns to face Sirius. At some point she’d started crying, but she’s not entirely sure when. She rips the sleeve of her shirt up to her elbow and holds her arm out so Sirius can see the Mark on her skin. “There! Are you happy? I’m a dirty, rotten death eater. Is that enough to finally get you to leave me the fuck alone?”

“Baby,” Sirius coos, taking a step towards her. “How did this happen, please, Y/N. I love you. This doesn’t make any sense. Talk to me, please.” Sirius isn’t even sure if what he’s saying is making sense, but his mind is going too fast to string a coherent thought together. This was never supposed to happen to them. Sirius ran away from his family to avoid this fate, he let himself be disowned so he and Y/N would have a chance at a long, happy life together. And the sight of that Mark on her arm has suddenly ripped those dreams right from under him.

Y/N collapses onto her bed, holding her head in her hands. “I didn’t want it to happen. You have to believe me, Sirius. I’ve hated myself every single day since I took this fucking thing.”

Sirius sits down next to Y/N and wraps his arms around her, bringing her to his chest. “I know, baby. I know,” he soothes, starting to stroke her hair. “Let me in, please. I can’t see you hurting like this anymore.”

“They were gonna make him do it. Michael,” Y/N starts. “He’s barely even 15, I couldn’t let him. He looked so scared when they told him, like he was going to cry. I had to protect him Sirius, I couldn’t let them ruin him. So, I told them I would do it.”

Sirius leans down and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Then why not just say that to us? Y/N we all care about you. We love you. You can tell us anything. We’d never be mad. I’d never be mad.”

“Because, Sirius. This isn’t just some game or joke. I’m his slave now, I’m at his every beck and call. Being around me is dangerous, especially for you and Lily. He has information on muggleborns, Sirius. Like files and files about people. He knows pretty much everything you can about Lily. Being friends with her gives him a direct connection to her and I can’t let that happen. And you. God it would kill me if you got hurt because of me. I love you, Sirius. More than I love anything in this world.”

Sirius grabs Y/N’s face in his hands and tilts her head up so he can kiss her slowly and passionately, trying to convey every feeling he has for her through this one kiss. “Runaway with me,” he whispers when their kiss breaks.

“What?” Y/N asks, blinking up at him.

“Let’s go to Dumbledore. If anyone can help you out of this mess it’s him. He’ll be able to hide us away somewhere, until it’s safe.” Sirius hugs Y/N tightly. “I love you, Y/N. There’s no one else in the world who will ever make me feel like this. You’re the person I’m supposed to marry and have kids with. Grow old with. You’ve already saved me, now let me save you.”

Y/N kisses Sirius. “I love you too. There’s no me without you.”

Y/N lets Sirius drag her from her dorm and to Dumbledore’s office. There’s no guarantee that he’ll say yes, or that hiding will work. But with Sirius by her side, Y/N knows that everything will work out in the end.    

[dorminchu]

Insult to Injury: The Director’s Cut — Chapter 03

Fandom: James Bond Characters: Madeleine Swann, Lyutsifer Safin, OC(s) Relationships: Madeleine Swann & Lyutsifer Safin Warnings: PTSD, moderate language. Rating: M Genre: Crime/Drama Summary: A troubled psychologist desperate to escape her past criminal ties finds herself drawn into a far more insidious schism. [Post-Skyfall]

[Ao3 | FFNet]

— Episode III: HEDGEHOG’S DILEMMA —

  Over the next hour, Madeleine’s initial animosity dissipated into tacit acceptance of the situation. Apart from the two unnamed associates, her and Safin, there were no other passengers. On paper, their route was straightforward. They'd stop at Genève, switch trains, be on their way to Sion. A five hour commute in total. Leaving roughly four hours to glean as much information as possible about her primary source of information.

At a glance she placed Safin somewhere in his early-to-mid-thirties. He had a soft face chipped away through years of ruthlessness—you could see it in his eyes, this kind of cold reticence that needed no introduction. The scarring threw off her estimate by a slight margin. He was dressed smartly, darker colours, blending in easily with any other first-class commuter except for the gloves. Madeleine, in a white blouse, grey wool cardigan to match her shoes.

“I'm curious. When you contacted the HR office and informed them I wouldn't be coming in, how did they take it?”

“They were surprised that you came in when you did, but ultimately sympathetic, given the nature of the situation. Your secretary mentioned that you're not one to take time off without prior notice.”

“Of course she would.”

“Would you like to know what they thought of you?”

As he spoke he watched her closely. “Diligent and well-mannered when it came to clientele. Aloof outside of an office setting. After graduating from two prestigious universities, you were still working at a public clinic. Your office and equipment were particularly sparse for a twenty-six year-old in the modern era. I imagine they thought you were in an inordinate amount of debt or else eccentric.”

Madeleine chewed on that for a few seconds. “That’s all well and good, but you cannot get all the nuances about a person from simple inference, or a background check.” Safin remained unreadable. “It was the secretary who told you all this?”

“In this profession, people provide me a lot of information I don’t ask for. I’ve learnt not to take it personally. You’d know what that is like, I’m sure.”

“I suppose so.”

Sunlight beamed on the side of her head, warming her past the point of languid ease. Should've picked the aisle seat. Trapped by her handbag at her ankles; burner phone, wallet, spare cosmetics, and a custom holster for a gun she hadn't touched since moving in with Arnaud. 

Three years ago, what was on her mind? Fresh out of Oxford, too cynical to be starry-eyed. Volunteering still gave her a false sense of self-importance, rather than existential exhaustion. Carving out her altruistic identity through deeds, not the blood money she had to take advantage of. Still believing in a world governed by monetary prowess and tacit favours. That somehow, she'd make up for inherited sins in sheer time and effort.

On her own, she just ended pulling up roots and moving on every couple years, leaving behind very little of herself. Taking some perverse pride in the impossibility of knowing an enigma but each year she noticed the empty space, the quiet of the flat, more encompassing. Lines on her face. Still young but not forever.

Maybe she needed some change in her life. Company, but not for the sake of matrimony. Living with Arnaud in Paris had made it easier to accept the façade of a charmed life, even if their relationship was one of social convenience. It got her father off her case. Her colleagues finally stopped speculating that she'd gone frigid and switched to wondering when she and Arnaud were going to move on or get hitched. Never to her face. Always to the secretary, who passed along the information with the same enthusiasm as commentary on the window dressings. 

Marriage crossed her mind, once or twice, in abstract. A last resort to keep up the veneer of normalcy. She could change her name. Become another unassuming face among thousands. Settle down while she was young. She wasn't a company man like her father. Maybe, for a year or two, before her past knocked her back into reality. Keeping her family life and professional life separate was paramount. The events of this morning proved as much.  

An attendant came over smelling of artificial vanilla and enquired if they would need anything. Stench recalled the low-lit bathroom in Conakry; a rush of saliva flooded Madeleine’s mouth as before vomiting. She shook her head. The attendant looked over at her in concern.

“Everything's fine, thank you,” said Safin. 

Madeleine threw him a bitter look as the attendant continued down the aisle. The sentiment was not reciprocated. Taken up by a need for conversation, if only to get out of her own head into someone else's for a while, she began, “So—” cleared her throat “—so, you head your own team?”

“That's correct.”

“How long have you been operating?”

“Fourteen years.”

“That’s quite a long time. I cannot say I'm familiar with the detail.”

“Our operations tend to stray away from the public eye. The situation in Conakry was an exception.”

Madeleine nodded primly. Still grasping for a conversation topic that wouldn’t completely sabotage her own intentions. What the hell could she do if he was one of SPECTRE? Second-guessing all his responses wouldn't get her anywhere. She simpered.

“I understand that this is not an ideal location to talk in-depth. But it wouldn’t hurt to know why my father saw fit to bother with me after all this time.”

“He has never discussed his business with you?”

“He made sure to keep me abreast of most of it. But I always knew where the money came from.” Madeleine frowned slightly. “There was an incident in Bolivia, back in 2008. I was volunteering on behalf of the IDPs and civilians affected by the water crisis. Dominic Greene, the famous entrepreneur, lost his life and the organisation QUANTUM shut down. But the gas explosion at the La Perla de las Dunas, that was all over the news. At the time it was deemed a political assault because several key members of the Bolivian military were rumoured to be involved.”

“On the news, do you recall ever hearing of a man named Luiz Medrano?”

“Medrano? As in, the exiled dictator?”

Safin nodded. “General Medrano cut a deal with Greene. Undisputed access to a seemingly useless piece of land in the Atacama Desert. It was, in fact, the site of an underground dam. Greene would have a monopoly over Bolivia's water, and Medrano and his coup would seize control of the country.” A particularly cold smile crossed Safin’s face but didn’t reach his eyes. “Not all of their subordinates were loyal. Someone from the outside must have intercepted at the hotel. Even so, their claim over the dam might have stayed out of the public eye if not for the amount of military figures found complicit in that political handover.” He paused. “QUANTUM's disbandment was not made public at the time. How would you know of this?”

Madeleine lowered her voice. “QUANTUM was my father's company, and Mr Greene was one of his associates. Besides, I never knew Greene personally. I don't think my father mentioned him to me more than twice in my life. I just put two-and-two together. He'd never let me see his shame directly.”

“I presume your father was acting in the interest of your protection.”

“He's always been meddling in my affairs! Even when I was a little girl. It's funny, you know. He was too busy to raise me so it fell to my mother. And then, once I got older, he decided to come back into my life. I would stay with him for a few months and go back to whichever school he put me through for the rest of the year. We stopped talking once I went off to Oxford.”

“And your mother?”

Madeleine froze. Averted her face towards the window. “She passed on when I was younger.”

Something indecipherable surfaced in his expression. “My apologies.”

“No, it’s all right. I’ve had time to mourn.” She scowled at nothing in particular. “I hope you realise I don’t have much on me.”

“Your personal affairs have been collected from the flat. You will have access to them once we reach our destination.”

“And that was decided by him, or you?” Safin held her gaze. “Well, you are doing this on his behalf, are you not?”

No answer. Back to silence until the attendant passed by again, accompanied by the scent of faux-vanilla. Madeleine couldn’t stand to sit another minute.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Safin without looking up.

“Dining car. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Safin made eye-contact with the associate on his side, nodded. The man got up and followed her into the next car without a word.

The attendant and passengers became nonentities while Madeleine ordered a sandwich and coffee. The associate didn't order anything, scanning the car. Just a pair of commuters, to the untrained eye.

“Welcome back, Dr Swann,” said Safin. “How was the dining car?”

“Uneventful.”

Safin glanced at the associate who was now sitting a few rows down. “I’m glad there were no complications.”

“I would certainly hope not,” Madeleine muttered. Every sentence that left her mouth gave him more ammunition. Ill-advised to put up a haughty front for the rest of the train ride. Tolerating the situation without being happy about it. Best get a grip before she made a bigger fool of herself. 

“I’m not one of your patients, Dr Swann. There's no need to try and figure me out.”

“I am not trying to do anything of the sort.” Terse, reflexive. Safin drew a quiet breath. Madeleine glanced over at him and of course, he initiated:

“Do you enjoy your work?”

“Psychology?”

“Yes.”

It was such an ordinary question that Madeleine forgot to be indignant. “I… well, truthfully there are a lot of days where it is not very glamourous. But, if the alternative is to sit by and do nothing while others are suffering, I wouldn't give up for the world.” Shrugging off her lingering bad mood with a white lie. “And you?”

“I have no complaints about my work.”

A little brisk, compared to his previous responses. But she hardly knew the man well enough to start parsing for tells. In his position she'd probably have answered the same way.

On the second train heading from Genève to Sion, Madeleine was out of conversation topics. Not that Safin was one for talking anyway. She'd settled into the pattern of being scrutinised and returning the scrutiny. Just like her father to send a highly-trained watchdog in lieu of an apology.

Once again, they had the car to themselves. The afternoon sun beaming in through the window imprinted on her retinas until she pulled down the blinds. 

The passing attendant did not address her beyond a glance and a small, terse smile. Probably just itching to get to the end of his shift and go see his friends for drinks. In his absence, her eyes kept flickering over empty rows, scanning, rescanning, fruitlessly.

“Dr Swann,” said Safin quietly, “is there a reason you keep looking over at the door?”

Madeleine purposefully relaxed her shoulders. “I wasn't aware that my father owned property in Sion. It's uncommon.”

“It's an architect’s villa located in Pont-de-la-Morge. Built in 1950, refurbished in 2008. You’ll have your pick of rooms on the second floor, if that makes any difference.”

Madeleine nodded. Running his sentence through in her head a few more times. She looked up sharply. “You’ll be staying there as well?”

“Given what occurred in Guinea and France, I would say it is in your best interest to have someone watching your back for a while.”

“You might have mentioned this before.”

“My job is to keep you alive. That’s as much reassurance as I can offer.”

⁂

Arrival at the station. Ushered into another black car. The sky overhead threatening rain as the car pulled into the drive. The perimeter of the house was flanked by several men not dissimilar from the two who’d collected Madeleine from her office. They did not speak. A couple of them nodded to Safin before bidding them entry.

An abundance of glass doors and aesthetically pleasing windows. The kitchen; wood panelling and stainless-steel. A fireplace in the living room with glass doors directly adjacent that led out to a terrace. The lawn watered itself. There were three bathrooms and bedrooms respectively.

Her own room was up the stairs, on the right. Far less claustrophobic or lived-in than Arnaud’s apartment. A fitted wardrobe, a stiff-looking bed. Mahogany sofa that wasn’t really her style but could be worked around. Light on the westernmost wall. Another set of glass doors that led out to a balcony, flanked by maroon curtains. She turned on the light, drew the curtains shut. Opening the wardrobe, she found the clothes she'd left in Arnaud's apartment that morning. She parsed through the fabric, unsure whether to find this latter aspect convenient or invasive. Some of these clothes she hadn’t worn in a season or two. 

Arnaud's last conversation came to mind. Had he come back to the flat after she left in order to apologise, or collect her things? If they hadn’t argued that morning he might still be alive. Worried enough, perhaps, to ask around and get himself in a lot of trouble before he was silenced.

Madeleine shut the wardrobe forcefully. A change of style the first step to reinventing herself.

Over the balcony she caught sight of Safin and his associates. He looked over as she came down the stairs. “The room is fine,” she began, “but, if I'm going to be here a week I'll need some things in the morning.”

Safin nodded. “Once we work out an itinerary, that shouldn't be an issue. You recall the two men who accompanied you?” The first nodded; the second smiled politely. “Simply inform one of them and they will transport you as needed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Madeleine. No chance of giving these men the slip and expecting to survive.

⁂

That night she buried herself under rough wool blankets. Dreamless sleep the most precious amenity of all. She couldn’t start drinking and risk a hangover. If she started taking pills she'd draw attention to herself pretty quickly.

Normally she could manage to sleep. Restless but consistent enough to scrape by unnoticed.

Waking up half-fevered. Unfamiliar ceiling. Sion, not France. Waiting for the initial swell of terror to pass, as it always did. Regulating her breathing. Just a trauma response. Laying still, unsure if it was midnight or five in the morning. 

Back in Ermatige, the waves of terror and relief used to crash down, shake her apart. Twenty-six year-old Madeleine chewed her lip. Sitting up, wrapping her arms around herself. A dull throbbing behind her eyes, in the base of her skull. Heavy scent of petrichor invading her nostrils.

About to get up when she heard the creak of floorboards. Movement from the hall towards the stairs, descending. Someone was up and around. A few seconds later, Safin’s voice, indistinct.

Oh, God.

She hadn’t disturbed him, had she?

She could lay back down and feign sleep until her headache became too much to ignore. Or she could go on with her day. Checked the time. 06:21.

Technically still too early for her to be up and about.

The warmth of the sheets became cloying. She stood up, barefoot on varnished wood, creeping over to the balcony. Reaching out to touch the pane. Cool glass kissing her naked palm. In a month or two the ground would be laden with snow.

Opening the door. Stepping out onto the balcony, gripping the rail. Quieting her breath to hear the whisper of water on grass. Taking fresh air into her lungs until she was shivering. Soles of her feet smarted.

The men surrounding the premises did not move. But they must see her up there. She stepped back indoors.

Silvery glint in her peripherals. The old television reflecting the light from outside.

Combing around the drawers for a remote. She clicked it on. Quickly hit the mute button. Squinting at the harsh colours that only reignited her headache. Flitting through channels for news. Poring over the headlines.

Not a word about the MSF. It had only been a month since she came back to Europe. Next week was October.

She sat there for a while letting the colours wash over the room. Clicked it off. Stumbling into the bathroom. Bags under her eyes more pronounced than the day before.

Madeleine had a shower, trying to piece together the dream. Hazier than in her youth. She discarded it. Only a dream. Drying off, dressing for the day. Contenting herself with the solidity of wool and linen, she went downstairs to have breakfast.

Safin, hovering by the glass doors in the living-room area. Dressed as if for another commute. “Dr Swann,” he said as way of greeting.

“Morning,” she replied. It was seven forty AM. No job to distract her from this newfound sense of nihilism. She rifled through the pantry looking for some cereal and saw an expensive-looking bottle of alcohol towards the back—liquor. Madeleine took the cereal, fixed herself a bowl and some coffee.

Caffeine counteracted her torpor, but the headache remained. “I don’t suppose this safehouse has any painkillers?” Safin looked over. She was already going through cabinets. “It’s my head. Just the weather, really.”

“Did you sleep?”

“Well enough.” She met his gaze with more confidence than she could back up. Safin’s attention diverted to the side of her head.

“On your right.”

She took two with her coffee. Ate in silence. Waiting a week in the hope her father might have an excuse was a truly miserable proposition. What would she say? Hello, Papa. I’m still alive. Did you pick this location to remind me of your home in Austria? No, that wouldn’t get her anywhere. Easier to approach her father in the same context as her job.

“Who do I speak to when I’m ready to leave?”

Safin glanced over at one of the associates.

⁂

The spotter gave her the run down on the way. In terms of travel she couldn’t go beyond the canton of Valais and she could not contact anyone else outside of Kerberos to confer information about her father’s whereabouts. But aside from that she could pretty much go anywhere.

First, clothing. That took her to Bottega Veneta. In Flagranti’s Business Acumen playing over the intercom. Madeleine's hackles raised. The painkillers in effect. Caffeine wearing off. She started parsing out signs. She hadn't really thought about what she needed beyond a change.

So accustomed to the life of a disconnected middle-class that its opposite became seductive. Perusing the aisles in a daze. Selecting whatever pulled at her heart in a perverse reminder of home. Nothing too extravagant. A new raincoat and a couple pairs of shoes. Navy scarf for the winter months. Spare lipstick. A few more shirts and dress pants in monochrome. Spare underwear, socks.

Spent half an hour trying it all on. Avoiding the eyes of the woman in the glass. Most of it fit but she didn't feel any different. The raincoat especially gave her a funereal look. She already had a reputation for being severe. What did it matter? She was always severe and the rest of the world could just bite the bullet.

Shit. The spotter was waiting for her. He probably didn't care either way. They hadn't talked much and she wasn't about to humanise him. She'd only let her guard down faster.

She parsed him out. They made brief eye-contact. Unimportant banter between her and the cashier during the transaction. Taking her bags. Walking over rain-slicked asphalt. Back into the car. The beat of raindrops on the window lulling her into a false sense of security.

Snapping herself out of it when the car stopped. “I’ll get it,” she insisted. The associate didn’t protest.

Treading up the stairs, down the hall. Pulling old clothes out of drawers, off hangers. Substituting her purchased goods. It wasn’t enough to fill the wardrobe, but she would have time to buy new clothes. Set aside the old stuff to be dealt with.

Shambling downstairs. Hungry without any real appetite. Safin nowhere to be seen. It took all the strength she had just to stand. Moving over to the sofa. Slumping into it. Closing her eyes. Only for a second.

The sound of a car pulling in mixed up with the sharp staccato of rifle fire tearing apart a wooden door.

Papa's gun in the cabinet, next to the bleach.

Heavy footsteps on wood.

No matter how fast she bolted she’d never get there in time.

Gloved hand on her shoulder.

Jerking awake with a guttural hitch, like she'd been sucker-punched.

Breathing hard. Her face damp.

“Dr Swann?”

Face-to-face with the last person she wanted to justify herself to. She averted her eyes. “Oh God, it's just—I’m sorry. It was just a nightmare.”

“About Conakry?”

She swallowed dryly. “Look, it’s nothing, I’m—”

“Don’t tell me that it is nothing.” His tone suddenly sharper. “You were in significant distress, now and early this morning. Nightmares are a common response in post-traumatic—”

“—I am familiar with the definition!” Ringing silence. She hadn’t meant to raise her voice. “Your concern is not unfounded, I know that it looks very bad. But I know how to deal with this. Please, just leave me be.”

“Just now, you said, don't come any closer, I'll kill you. Does that mean anything to you?”

Her hackles raised. “It's meaningless.”

“Depriving yourself of sleep won't do you any favours when Mr White shows up. If you want to be stubborn, I'll have no option but to keep you locked down until you have recuperated. In the meantime, think over what you must do to get some proper sleep. I'm not your therapist.”

He left her to sit, bitter and confused. He hadn’t reacted this way in Guinea and she'd been close to catatonic. So, what was this about?

⁂

For the next three days the Kerberos team confined her to the safehouse. Letting her out only to walk her around the premises for twenty minute intervals like a high-strung pet. If she were to take sleeping pills she was monitored. Resentment outweighed by desperation to regain her agency. 

She learnt to recognise Safin's gait back and forth down the hall. Through the glass doors that led out onto the balcony, she could always see the figures silhouetted in the light from the terrace, blending into the shadows. 

Even with all of this, sleep was no easier. Waking up half-fevered, clawing away the sheets. Expecting to see her stomach torn open, entrails and blood over the sheets not unlike brain matter and bone fragments against a hot car window. Finding unbroken skin sheened in sweat. The stress of the situation in Guinea and the extreme nature of the attack would inevitably recall some previous triggers.

It didn't explain away the nightmares about Altaussee. Hadn't she put that behind her years ago? Minor variations, each time. The setting was more indistinct than in childhood but the visceral details heightened. Sometimes the gunman would shoot her on sight before she stepped outside. Most often now, she'd run over to find no gun in the cabinet, and he shot her anyway. As a child she'd lacked the mental capacity to conceptualise how it would feel to die this way; now she dreaded what she'd see when she closed her eyes.

On day four, she was finally able to get some rest on account of exhaustion rather than effort. She woke up to the sun streaming into her face. Once she left her room, the two associates got her out of the house, into the car. They drove around Valais for roughly an hour and brought her back. Upon her return to the safehouse there were men checking over the rooms and furniture. Only so much protocol she could stomach, on top of all the scrutiny.

“I don’t want them in my room when I come in,” she told Safin. “Around the premises if necessary, but that’s all. If they must check all the rooms, fine, I don’t care, I just don’t want to see it.”

Childish to her own ears. Too beaten-down to think better. But he just said: “That can be arranged.”

⁂

The nights here were getting colder. Madeleine bundled up. She had never cared much for the autumnal season. All the decay covered beneath the snow to be unearthed come spring. Upcoming holiday meant throngs of people. Indifferent towards Christmas.

Safin was rarely around. In passing, he would acknowledge her in passing with a curt nod, and after day five he was more-or-less in the background. Every now and again, she'd catch him hovering in a room, just observing. Sometimes, if she turned, she imagined a flicker of something unfamiliar trapped behind his reserved countenance. But he never stuck around long enough for her to ask.

With an abundance of free time, she was unable to let herself to fall into the illusion of normalcy. Inevitable, then, that her thoughts would stray back to the MSF. Conducting research on her own, in the mornings and evenings; parsing through official news sites on her laptop, then underground articles, statistics, and anything else she could scrounge up. 

The Guinean military had been busy quelling unrest for the last four weeks, but there were few details. Several key figures in the MSF were currently under investigation, tarnishing the reputation of the organisation. That stuck around the headlines, right next to some lesser story in the corner about various pharmaceutical companies cooperating in tandem with the Red Cross and clean MSF figures to ensure there was no repeat affliction throughout the rest of Africa. Madeleine didn’t see her face or any mention of a Psychosocial Unit mentioned anywhere.

The nightmares weren't any better. But at least she had something to point her energy towards rather than direct it inwards.

On day six, Safin was lurking about the living area when she came down. He didn't wish her good morning. “I'll say this once, for your own good. Forget about what happened in Guinea.”

A week ago Madeleine would've been indignant. Arrogant enough to question this. She said: “There has been nothing short of a civil outbreak, and all the other parties walked away more or less unscathed. And you expect me to ignore that?”

“You accepted that mission knowing that there was the possibility there would be casualties.”

“Casualties? It was a worst-case scenario.”

He looked over at her. “The situation escalated far beyond any one party's control. There's no sense in blaming yourself. You did the best you could.”

Always wearing gloves. What the hell had happened to him? And why, succeeding that, would one choose security as their preferred occupation?

“Are you going to ask if it’s genetic?”

Madeleine balked. For the first time in a long time embarrassed rather than unnerved. “I didn't mean to offend you.” 

He shrugged. “No offence taken.” His tone was off, like trying for sharpness without credence. “It was a long time ago.” Cordial, but not openly genial. While their conversations topics didn't leave much room for trust or even camaraderie, at the very least they were not glowering at each other anymore. “There's been a slight change of plans. Your father should be arriving later this evening.

“Well, that's convenient.”

“I'm sure you would like to ask him a few questions about your situation.”

“There's no telling he will give me a straight answer.” Safin said nothing. Madeleine exhaled, looked over at him. “Irrespective of how I might feel about your employer, you’ve given me no reason to distrust you.”

“Very well, Dr Swann.”

Madeleine smiled. “Please, just call me Madeleine. I'm not working right now.”

A beat.

“All right. Madeleine.”

[jcreaus]

305

Show: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss

Summary: Emily has a nightmare, and JJ is there to talk her through it.

Warning: Implied/Referenced Torture

Read it on AO3

“Stop!”

Emily was chasing after their latest unsub, Richard Benz, and she was finally closing in on him. The team had spent the last four days in New York City tracking down a guy that kidnapped blonde women after they dropped their children off at daycare. She was taking this case personally, and it was obvious to everyone, but how couldn’t she?

The last victim was in her early thirties, had long, flowing blonde hair, blue eyes, and a daughter around Henry’s age. They all saw JJ in that woman, but it was different for Emily. She loved her.

The entire team had been very understanding of how emotional she was being, especially Hotch. He trusted Emily to not let her emotions get the best of her, and so far, she had done an excellent job.

But now she was following this man, and at this point, her legs were moving without her even telling them to. They had found Benz in his childhood home, but he took off running as soon as their sirens wailed when they pulled up to the house. They knew he had his own home about a mile away, so when he started running, Emily didn’t even bother getting in the SUV with Morgan and Rossi. She just ran.

Through her earpiece, she heard Spencer say that they didn’t find the latest victim, Alexis, anywhere in the house. All of the other victims had fragments of insulation in their hair, so the team had profiled that they were being kept in an attic or unfinished basement, either in Benz’s home or the home he grew up in. Because he wasn’t keeping the victims in his childhood home, Emily hoped to god that wherever they were running to, would be where Alexis was being held.

They were running through a field of grass when a small white house with a wraparound porch came into view, which looked identical to a picture Penelope had shown them of Benz’s house earlier that day. It was in a secluded area, like they had profiled, and Emily could just barely make out a small window near the roof that most likely led to an attic. She picked up speed, but Benz was faster.

“Richard Benz, stop!” She tried again as he climbed onto the porch. She slowed her pace a few feet in front of the house and held her gun up, but Benz pushed through the front door and climbed the staircase that was on the other side.

Emily kept her gun in her right hand and went into the house, climbing the stairs two at a time. She could hardly breathe after running the entire way there, but that didn’t matter right now. She heard the sound of wood hitting wood, like a door being slammed open and hitting the wall behind it. A scream came immediately after.

Alexis was still alive.

Once on the second floor, Emily held her gun up again. She made her way through the hallway, but stopped when she saw a ladder hanging down from the ceiling. Their profile had been right about Benz keeping his victims in an attic.

“FBI!” Emily said loud enough for Benz to hear. She knew he had the upper hand here, but she didn’t care. She climbed the ladder, prepared for him to start shooting as soon as her black hair was visible to him.

But he didn’t.

She made it to the top and stood in the attic, ducking her head slightly because of how low the ceiling was. Richard Benz stood with a blonde woman wrapped in his arms, his knife probably up to her throat. Emily couldn’t see how he was holding her, however, because he was turned away from her. He was looking through the circular window that Emily had seen while they were running toward the house. She couldn’t see what was out there, but the red and blue lights that flashed on the uncovered insulation in the wall told her it was the rest of her team and some of the local police.

Morgan would be up here soon, she thought. Until then, she was on her own.

“Richard Benz, drop your weapon and turn around,” Emily said calmly. Her gun was up, both of her hands holding onto it firmly.

He took one step to the side and another step backwards, turning slowly to face Emily.

The flashing lights reflected in Alexis’ blonde hair, and Emily watched intently as Benz turned around, never loosening his grip on her. The team had profiled that he wouldn’t give Alexis up easily, so if he did have a weapon to her throat, the moments to come did not look good for any of them.

He took another small step, this time revealing the sharp knife in his right hand that was pressed firmly against the victim’s throat. A smirk spread on his face and he began to laugh.

Emily furrowed her eyebrows, confused about how he was so calm when he had just been caught. Her eyes flickered from his mischievous black eyes to the woman in his arms. Emily froze.

JJ.

How was that possible?

She was in an SUV coming from the police station, wasn’t she?

“Emily,” the blonde choked out. Her eyes were filled with tears and her face was covered in dirt and dried blood, presumably from countless days of torture.

“No.”

“I win,” Benz smiled again, this time revealing his brown teeth.

“No,” Emily’s arms trembled as she tried helplessly to keep her gun pointed at Benz, “this can’t be the end.”

-

Emily’s eyes shot open. It took her a moment to get her bearings, but once she did, she squeezed her eyes shut again, desperate to get rid of the image of a bloodied JJ in the hands of the most recent serial killer their team had hunted down and arrested.

She turned her head away from the middle of the bed and reopened her eyes. They landed on the small alarm clock on the bedside table.

3:05am.

Again?

This was the third night in a row that she has had the same nightmare. It always followed the events of their most recent case, but at the end, JJ was in the arms of the unsub, days of torture and abuse plastered on her face and all over her body.

Needless to say, she hated it.

Emily knew she was going to have to talk about it at some point. The thought of losing her girlfriend to an unsub was clearly a fear of hers, but she was much better at compartmentalizing than dealing with her thoughts and emotions.

Maybe she’ll talk about it tomorrow.

All she knew was that right now, falling back asleep was pointless. She needed some air. And a cigarette.

Emily was about to roll off of the bed when she realized a weight was holding her arm in place. She turned her head back towards the middle of the bed, and came face-to-face with a peacefully asleep JJ.

One of JJ’s hands was sandwiched between her cheek and the pillow, almost like another pillow, and her other hand was resting limply at her side. Her head was at the edge of her pillow, so she was practically laying in the middle of the queen-sized bed.

Emily’s face was centimeters away from JJ’s. She smiled to herself, glad to see her girlfriend lying next to her without a black eye or with a knife to her throat. Her quickly beating heart slowed a little at the sight, but still, she couldn’t shake the image of Richard Benz holding onto JJ like he had been in her dream.

Emily laid like that for a few minutes, delaying the moment when she would have to rip her arm out from underneath JJ and risk waking her up. She examined every inch of the younger girl’s face, their close proximity allowing her to make out every individual eyelash and freckle. She noticed JJ’s slightly parted soft lips and the small crease in her forehead that the girl only got when she was upset or in a deep sleep.

She was certain that JJ was the most beautiful woman in the world.

But images from her nightmare kept popping into her mind. Emily needed air, which meant she had to remove her arm from underneath JJ.

She pulled it out from under her girlfriend’s torso as slowly as she could. Emily knew the woman had learned to become a light sleeper after years of taking phone calls from Hotch in the middle of the night, so the brunette was certain that this was a lost cause. She continued pulling though, and soon enough, her arm was free.

Emily untangled herself from the sheets as quietly as she could, and shifted her weight so she got off of the bed without making the bedframe squeak. It was known to do that.

Her bare feet hit the wooden floor, and she shivered once she realized how cold it was in their apartment. She glanced out of the window and noticed the small snowflakes falling from the sky. No wonder it was so cold.

Emily stepped into the slippers that she kept by the door of their bedroom and pulled one of JJ’s cardigans out from their dresser. She put it on quickly, and made her way into the living room.

Their apartment had a large balcony, which could be accessed from sliding glass doors in the bedroom and the living room. Emily chose to use the door in the living room, knowing that the sliding door in their bedroom desperately needed to be oiled.

She slid the door open as quietly as she could and slipped onto the metal balcony. There were two chairs tucked into the corner by the other glass door, as well as a small table, a pack of cigarettes, and a black ashtray.

Emily sat down on the chair closest to the railing, which allowed the cool breeze to hit her cheeks just enough to send a light shiver down her spine. She opened the pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, placing it gently between her lips before lighting it. She was lucky the curtains in their bedroom were closed because if JJ woke up and saw her smoking, she would probably come outside and ask her to talk about whatever was bothering her.

She loved that JJ knew when something was wrong just by looking at her, but right now, she absolutely did not want to talk about that nightmare. Emily hated how high the chances were of it becoming a reality because of their job, but that’s when she reminded herself that she was trained in situations like those. She had the skills and intellect to save JJ if anything like that ever happened. That helped calm her nerves a bit.

Or was it the cigarette?

Emily used her middle and ring fingers to remove the cigarette from her lips and she let out a long breath, the mixture of smoke and her warm breath hitting the cold air forming a cloud in front of her face. She closed her eyes, hoping that a much more pleasant image of JJ would appear behind her eyelids.

“Can I sit?”

Emily would’ve been scared out of her mind if the voice that the question came from didn’t belong to the only person in the world that could calm her down during the absolute worst times.

JJ.

Her eyes fluttered opened and she looked up at the blonde standing in front of her. The corners of her mouth quirked up into a small smile and she gestured toward the chair next to her with the fingers that were holding the cigarette.

Emily raised the cigarette to her mouth again, but this time, JJ took in from her. She thought she was going to get lectured for smoking her anxiety away, but instead, the blonde placed the cigarette between her lips and inhaled. She blew the smoke out and handed it back to Emily.

Emily raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend, who shrugged in response. She smiled again and decided to put out the cigarette in the ashtray between them. She leaned back in her chair and looked up at the stars, hoping it would stay quiet between them for a few more moments. She wasn’t ready to talk yet.

JJ must have sensed that because she took one glance at Emily and decided not to push her. She leaned back in her chair so she was sitting the same way that Emily was, and the two of them sat silently, looking up at the stars together.

Neither of them moved for a few minutes. They remained in their lounging positions, gazing up at the sky. But when JJ spoke, it didn’t surprise Emily. She knew it was coming sooner or later, so she was grateful for the few moments of silence she had been granted.

“Another one?”

“They won’t stop.”

Emily leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and burying her face in her hands. She felt JJ’s warm hand rest on her back, and she melted into the touch. She was there and she was safe.

“Emily,” the blonde whispered, “we need to talk about this.” The sentence itself was demanding, but her voice was gentle and calm. She knew her tone would soothe Emily, and that’s exactly what it did.

A loud sigh escaped Emily’s lips and she sat back up, carefully turning the chair so that it faced JJ. She sat upright, but leaned her back against the chair again. She crossed her arms over her chest and put one leg over the other, an indication that she was mentally putting walls up.

JJ knew better, though, so she reached for Emily’s hands and gently wrapped them in hers. She leaned forward, placing their entangled hands on Emily’s thigh. JJ looked deeply into the brunette’s eyes, and her features softened the moment she looked back. They had always been able to communicate through glances, and this one said, “you can trust me with this.”

“They always start with us going to Orlando to find Richard Benz,” she broke eye contact. JJ’s bright blue eyes were sometimes too kind for her. Emily had only ever known pain, and even after dating JJ for years, sometimes her soft touches and gentle words were too much for her.

JJ squeezed her hands carefully, hoping that it would usher Emily to continue.

“All of the victims look like you. They have a child around the same age as Henry, they have the same physical build as you, their hair and eye color-”

Tears began to form in her eyes, and JJ took that as a sign to interrupt. They had recounted the case multiple times since they closed it because of how hard it had been on Emily. With every chance she got, JJ reminded Emily that she was safe. Apparently Benz’s victimology was still bothering Emily, though, and the blonde knew she needed to talk her through it again.

“Emily,” she inched closer to her face, hoping that if she got Emily to look at her, she would be able to see that she was okay.

“I know,” Emily said sternly, which was not what she had intended. She was mad at herself for still being bothered by a case they had closed a week ago, and she was even more upset that she had to bring the whole thing up to JJ again. Surely it had scared her too, knowing that all of the victims lived almost the same life as her, so Emily hated that she had to keep reminding JJ of the reality of their job.

Emily explained the entire case in detail, almost like clockwork. She started at the beginning when Penelope presented the case to them at the round table, and then moved on to when Hotch pulled her aside before they boarded the plane to ask her if she thought she could handle this case without taking it personally. She had said yes, of course, but her and Hotch both knew the risks. He made sure to not partner Emily and JJ up when he was assigning tasks on the jet, and everyone on the team took note of that.

She told JJ everything from her perspective without missing a single beat. Her nightmare was exactly how it had played out in real life, with her running after Benz when he took off in the direction of his house. When he barged through the front door and climbed the stairs, to the scream Emily heard, all the way to when she climbed the ladder and he turned around to reveal a knife to the victim’s throat.

Emily stopped just before she got to the part when Benz turned around and he revealed that JJ had been held captive, rather than Alexis. She pulled her hands back and squeezed her eyes shut, the intensity of the image in her head almost too much to bear.

JJ saw Emily’s body tense up and realized that what had happened in that attic would probably affect her girlfriend for years to come. She knew that Alexis had hair identical to hers, so seeing Benz holding a blonde with bloodied hair probably made it hard for her to see anyone else but her. She didn’t know that Emily had dreamed it actually was her.

“It’s okay,” JJ said barely above a whisper, not wanting to startle Emily. “I’m safe, and so is Alexis.”

“It was you.”

She kept her eyes closed and her eyebrows stitched together. A few tears fell as she squeezed her eyes tighter, and that’s when she felt a warm hand on her cheek.

“Emily look at me.”

Her voice was firm, and Emily knew that it was important that she did as she was told. She slowly opened her eyes and found glistening blue eyes staring back at her.

“I’m safe,” JJ reiterated. “I’m here, with you, and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

JJ’s other hand made its way to Emily’s face, and soon enough, both of JJ’s hands were holding her in place.

Grounding her.

Emily hesitated, taking the moment to look over every inch of JJ’s face, just to make sure that she was real, and she was there. She nodded as another tear fell onto her cheek. It caught in JJ’s hand, and the blonde used her index finger to wipe it away.

That small movement from JJ was enough for Emily to realize that she was okay. And she always would be.

“Let’s go to bed,” Emily mumbled.

JJ placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before standing up and taking Emily’s hand in her own. She led them back inside and into their bedroom, and for the first time in a week, Emily slept through the rest of the night without having a nightmare.

[hp-nextgen-fest]

2020 HP Next Gen Fest Reveals!

The time has finally come for the 2020 @hp-nextgen-fest reveals! Thank you so very much to everyone who has made this fest such an amazing success! We were incredibly impressed with the overwhelming enthusiasm you all have for our favorite Next Gen characters. Everyone who submitted stories and art, and those who read, reviewed and recced: You guys are amazing!! It's been really great seeing everybody's fantastic creations, and we hope you all enjoyed the fest as much as we did! Without further ado, here's a list of all the amazing participants who worked so hard to create fabulous things for this year's fest!

ART

@miakagrewup drew AcciDental Magic [Rose, Hugo, & Grandparents | General] Hermione and Ron are called away for a case and left without their usual child-minder when Molly falls ill. Hermione’s parents step up to keep Hugo and Rose, in spite of Hermione’s warning that the two little ones have some big issues with accidental magic. The story is told comic book style, with illustrations and voice bubbles.

@eleonorapoe drew Woke up married! [James Sirius/Teddy | General] They get well and truly bladdered at Albus's stag do and wake up in bed together with matching wedding bands...

@mad1492 drew Sunday Practice [James Sirius/Teddy | General] Teddy thought that morning practice on Sunday was going to be something he would soon regret, but things may turn more interesting than expected.

@julcheninred drew Introduction [Albus, Severus, & Albus Severus | General] Albus Severus Potter gets to know the men he's named for by asking them about the experiences, memories, and motives that shaped their lives.

@garmrr drew Eyecandy [James Sirius/Teddy | General] After months of extensive Auror training, Teddy comes with the Potters to the beach. James. Cannot. Stop. Staring. At. Teddy. Shirtless.

FIC

@cassiaratheslytherpuff wrote We Keep Loving Anyway [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 7.1k] After Albus finds out Scorpius is part vampire he can’t stop thinking about being bitten. He can’t stop thinking about Scorpius in general, but that’s been the case since he was fifteen. At least, when it comes to Scorpius he’s used to not getting what he wants. He’s happy with what he has, or at least, comfortable. That is until he accidentally asks for it, then it all starts to change.

@polly-darton wrote The perks of Veritaserum [James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 5.1k] James drank a long-lasting version of Veritaserum and is miserable and Teddy is having the time of his life. That is, until they’re both having the time of their lives.

@gracerene09 wrote Thunderstruck [Charlie/Teddy | Explicit | 2.6k] There’s not a lot for dragon tamers to do when stuck inside during a storm, but looking at this particular new recruit―well, Charlie can’t help but think of a few ways they could pass the time.

Quentin_threepwood wrote Hair Today, Hair Tomorrow [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Mature | 1.7k] Away on a book tour Albus Severus Malfoy grows a very creepy mustache, much to the horror of his still at home husband Scorpius Malfoy.

vitruvian8008 wrote Mission in Nairn [Draco/Lily Luna | Explicit | 7k] Lily Luna Potter is paired with Draco Malfoy for her first Auror Mission. On their last night, she decides to act on the lingering tension that had been building up between them.

@nerdherderette wrote No Other Alpha But You [Albus Severus/James Sirius | Explicit | 7.1k] Scorpius Malfoy has applied to be Albus' heat partner. There's no way James is letting that happen.

@aneiria-writes wrote The Scorpion King [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 3.8k] Scorpius Malfoy, AKA the Scorpion King, has ruled Britain ever since his father turned his sights to conquering Europe. With his right-hand man and most trusted advisor, Albus Potter, Scorpius has a life of elegance and power. But he's had enough of the beautiful women that usually grace his bed. Scorpius has decided he wants something else in bed. Something more. Scorpius Malfoy wants Albus Potter.

@motherofmercury wrote Islands of the Upper Air [Lily Luna/Luna | General | 1.5k] Lily Luna has never liked her namesake, or her strange and sometimes absurd way of looking at the world. But a weekend full of ancient rituals and mountain forests is an eye opener, in more ways than one.

@shipperysails-bookofspells wrote Expecto Patronum!! [James Sirius/Teddy | Mature | 45.7k] James Potter had always known exactly what he wanted; to open a pub of his own, maybe travel the world, and live a simple life with the only man he’d ever loved. For years he waited, quietly determined to help Teddy see what could be between them. But just when everything he’d ever dreamed of was finally within his reach, it was ripped away in an instant. With Teddy missing, and presumed dead, James is left to pick up the pieces. John has no idea what he wants. He doesn’t even know who he is. But when he hears a strikingly familiar voice – on an otherwise ordinary day – he sets out to discover everything he can about the man that occupies his dreams. And Harry, well, Harry just wants to put his failures behind him. Until a series of unexpected events forces him to reexamine a case that he’d given up on solving. With the help of an unexpected ally, he just might find the answers he’s been looking for.

@lovealpenglow wrote lily's potter [Lily Luna/Lysander & Lily Luna/Draco | Mature | 8.3k] "But what if I keep it? What’s the contingency plan there?” She took a seat next to Lily. She spoke slowly, as if she was thinking about it for the first time, too. “Well, I mean, you keep your baby. You raise it. You love it. It goes on to do wonderful things because it’s a Potter.” Lily snorted. “It’s a Potter?” “Why not? I mean it’s just as much you as whoever is the father. Why shouldn’t it be a Potter first?”

@micheleblack wrote Snaked a Claim [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Teen | 1.6k] Everyone knew Albus was gay from age five when he would dramatically swoon every time Goncalo Flores the Quidditch player was mentioned. Twenty years later and Harry still tells the tale - much to Al’s embarrassment.

@ladderofyears wrote And I Fell Heavy (Into Your Arms) [James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 9.1k] When James Sirius Potter travels to America for three weeks, the turquoise-haired Healer Teddy Lupin misses his boyfriend very much indeed. Luckily, Teddy has (sexy) floo calls, charmed obsidian pendants and hastily made chastity promises to keep him busy. Based on the following prompt: Absence makes the heart grow fonder... Right? Smutty phone!sex? Longing letters? All up to you!

@veelawings wrote Dirty Duelling [Albus Severus/Draco | Explicit | 6.1k] Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want (Or — fucked up Dirty Dancing with wand fights)

@eleonorapoe wrote Albus’ Private Lesson of Sex Education [Albus Severus/James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 4.5k] Albus has some doubts about sex. Luckily he has an older brother, who can initiate him. How does this lesson go? James will be the teacher, Albus his good and obedient student and Teddy will be more than happy to serve them as a learning tool. In which a delicious Teddy sandwich is served.

@faeheyjesper wrote Four Reasons [James Sirius/Teddy | General | 8.1k] There were a couple of things James should've considered more seriously before coming back to work at Hogwarts as the new Flying Instructor. His dad being the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor there, for one. The fact that he hadn't really flown since a career-ending injury had put an abrupt end to his Quidditch fame two years ago, for another. His ridiculous, teenage crush on Teddy Lupin, his friend and Hogwarts' newest Charms professor, perhaps most of all.

@26timesbrighter wrote An Interlude [Lavender/Victoire | Explicit | 4.9k] Victoire is supposed to be chasing a serial killer, not shagging her uncle’s dead ex-girlfriend.

@drarryruinedme7 wrote Mint & Apples [Harry/Teddy | Explicit | 4.3k] Teddy Lupin's not-quite-wolf has chosen Harry Potter as his mate, that's all. He hasn't got a crush on his best friend's father, really. He also definitely isn't obsessed with Harry Potter's scent.

crazyparakiss wrote This is Love [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 24.8k] Most of Albus’s bad life decisions can be summed up in a word: James. When he got a shitty tattoo in the Fifth Year—done by some bloke in a dirty flat—well, that was James’s idea. When he got picked up by Aurors for doing hallucinogens—James was the one who’d convinced him to do them at a party. That time they stole the flying motorbike Dad gave to Teddy—James was the one who insisted it was a rite of passage to drive it over London at dawn. Neither Dad nor Teddy was impressed with that explanation. Now, here Albus is living another bad choice that was born of James’s influence.

@gaeilgerua wrote The Balance Between Studying and Relaxing [Rose/Teddy | Explicit | 3.7k] Rose has been studying non-stop for her upcoming barrister exam. With Hermione attending Hugo’s Quidditch trials for moral support and Ron away on business, there’s only one person available to keep an eye on her. And Teddy is only too happy to take the role.

@r00wscribbles wrote The last ones to know [Albus Severus/Scorpius | General | 5.2k] Albus and Scorpius have a very close relationship. Everyone can see it. Perhaps they are the last ones to know jus how close they are.

@ohdrarry wrote You've Got A Second Chance (You Could Go Home) [James Sirius/Teddy | Teen | 16k] “What about James?” James, dear Merlin, not James, not again. His boy, his son, the brightest star in the constellation of Harry’s patchwork family, not him. “I think he’s relapsed.” – They tried this when James was nineteen and Teddy was twenty five. It crashed and burned. Teddy ran away to Finland and James... well Teddy's about to find out what happened to James, now that he's back two years later.

@maraudersaffair wrote Falling for You [James Sirius/Scorpius | General | 1.2k] Scorpius didn't care about Quidditch until he saw James Sirius on a broom.

@diligent-thunder wrote Heart-Shaped Ottoman [Draco/Teddy | Explicit | 6.3k] Draco has had interns before, but none so bothersome as Teddy Lupin.

@whenshereads wrote Living With Our Eyes Half Open [James Sirius & Scorpius | Teen | 5.5k] James didn’t mean to get his brother-in-law kidnapped alongside him that morning, but that is definitely what happened.

@shiftylinguini and @gracerene09 wrote Faim [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 9.6k]  "So, this is the city of love!" Scorpius declared, adjusting the straps on his backpack. Albus wrinkled his nose. "City of pigeons, more like," he corrected, stepping around another fat, grey bird Or: Scorbus go to France.

@articcat621 wrote Unexpected [Lily Luna/Pansy | Explicit | 1.2k] Draco and Harry's engagement party brings about an unexpected, but not unwelcome, event.

@fidgetyweirdo wrote Remember to Forget [Albus Severus/James Sirius | Mature| 17.5k] The moment they kissed, James and Albus knew that they'd never be able to live without this -- too in love to walk away. Years later, and well into adulthood, the possible repercussions of their relationship feel very real and very scary. Without the strength to break it off, they're left with a single solution: a company that specializes in erasing and altering memories. Now the only thing left to do, is to say goodbye.

[iam93percentstardust]

Spirit Bright and Beautiful

Written for @starkbucksbingo and this means a bingo for me! See below the cut for bingo details

Also on ao3 here

~

He has a safe house.

Of sorts.

Not really a safe house. It’s an office space under construction, abandoned when the project ran out of money. Still, it’s safe and the important part is that it has a view of the tower and so James can see the Avengers when they’re coming and going. He can watch what they’re doing—not when they’re in the tower itself because the windows are tinted—but he can see when they leave and where they’re going. He never follows them, not with the Black Widow and the SHIELD agent on the team. But they don’t usually go far unless it’s a special event or a mission and if it’s a mission, James wouldn’t want to follow them anyway and if it’s a special event, he can usually watch it on the shitty TV he stole out of someone’s garbage.

James prides himself on being impossible to sneak up on. HYDRA’s training was good for that at least. So he hears the light steps coming up the stairs. He hears and he tenses because he doesn’t recognize those footsteps. He doubts it’s HYDRA—they’re usually heavier—and he doesn’t think it’s the Black Widow because he thinks he could count himself lucky if he actually heard her coming and she’s out on a mission right now anyway so that means it’s someone else.

Someone, who is apparently huffing and complaining about damn super soldiers who could do this without even breathing hard and—

A face with fluffy brown hair, big and warm eyes, and the most ridiculous beard James thinks he’s ever seen pokes its head around the corner.

“Freezer Pop?” the face asks and James suddenly recognizes it as belonging to Tony Stark, Iron Man, one of HYDRA’s do-not-engages long before he became a superhero. “Bucky Bear, you in here?”

He shouldn’t give away his position so easily. Then again, Stark is a friend of Steve’s and he remembers Steve. He’s not sure if he’s ready to see Steve again but he at least knows he’s a friend.

“What’s a freezer pop?” he asks, voice rusty from disuse. He emerges from behind one of the plastic sheets, flicking the switchblade he’d been holding closed. He doesn’t use guns anymore, can’t stand the sight of the things, and it’s not like he can’t defend himself with just a knife anyway.

Stark’s eyes dart to the knife, skitter away to take in the sight of the construction. “It’s a snack,” he begins and then stops, biting his lip to stop himself from saying anything else. James can’t help but wonder what he’d been planning on saying. “Is this where you’ve been staying? Cause I’ll be honest with you, this is…not great.”

James huffs out a laugh. “Better than the street,” he says and doesn’t say that he’s been on the street before.

Stark seems to hear it anyway though if the way his mouth twists is any indication. “It’s not like you’ve only got two options here,” he points out. “You could—”

“I don’t want to,” James interrupts, already feeling the panic creeping up on him. “I don’t—I could hurt—and Steve—”

He almost doesn’t see Stark move and his hand twitches for his knife before Stark stops only a few feet away from. The panic comes on fast and heavy then, overwhelming him. When did he sit down? When did he scramble backward from Stark sitting as well? When did—he tucks his head between his knees, screaming to drown out the static in his head.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to become James again but when he raises his head again, he thinks the light has shifted. Stark is still sitting there though, still a few feet away, silently tapping on a tablet. He looks up when James uncurls from his ball, putting the tablet down beside him.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Stark says quietly. “I know I can be an asshole but I really didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I didn’t think you did,” he rasps.

“I know you’re not ready. And I don’t really blame you. But Steve and the Murder Twins are out on a mission for the next two months and Sam is still in D.C. and Bruce and Thor are at their love nest in Greece that they think I don’t know about.” He rolls his eyes and the corner of James’ mouth twitches in a smile. “I’m just worried about you.”

And that—that’s just—“No one asked you to worry about me,” he points out.

Stark nods. “I know. But you can’t stop me from doing it anyway so here, I wanted to give you this.” He slides the tablet across the floor, stopping only when it taps against James’ foot.

He picks it up slowly, reminding himself that Stark wouldn’t kill him, not with a tablet leastways. “What is it?”

“Videos, mostly,” Stark says with a deceptively casual shrug.

“Of what?”

“The team. J says you’ve been watching us for a while and he’s pretty sure that you’re looking to see if it’s safe to come in, which I doubt you can figure out from watching the outside so I brought you this so you can watch the inside too.” He frowns. “That came out wrong. Look, I’m scared of Natasha too so I don’t blame you so I just thought maybe you’d like video of her throwing cereal at Clint because he drank all the milk.”

He unfolds his legs and stands up. “I’ll leave you to it. Just to warn you though, I’m coming back tomorrow with dinner. Gotta do something while I’m benched.” He taps his side like James is supposed to know what that means and then disappears before James can ask him either about his ribs or about the mysterious J.

~

True to his word, Stark is back the next day with something in a large paper bag that smells so good it makes James’ mouth water. He’s been eating mostly day-old sandwiches from the sandwich shop next to the office building he’s staying in and frankly, he’s tired of it but he’s not willing to go any further than right next door.

“You watched any of it?” Stark asks him, tossing the bag into his lap.

James fishes out two containers of what looks like spaghetti and a smaller bag of breadsticks. He sticks one of the breadsticks in his mouth so that he can avoid saying something when he nods.

Stark gives him an amused looks and then waits for him to finish swallowing before saying, “What did you think?”

…He doesn’t know what to say to that.

He’s been watching and he’s seen what Stark had talked about with the Black Widow throwing cereal at Barton. And he’s seen Dr. Banner trip over the god’s hammer and not even turn a shade before yelling at him about leaving his things in the halls. And he’s even seen Stark and Steve cheerfully bickering with each other—and that’s barely even a fraction of the videos on the tablet he’d been given.

He sees all of this but it doesn’t really make sense in his mind at the moment. Where are the fights? The arguments? The full-on hatred that expresses itself in sneers and glares?

“It’s fine,” he mutters. “Looks nice.”

Stark frowns but he doesn’t press the issue. For that, James is grateful. He still doesn’t have all of his memories back but he’s pretty sure that if it were Steve standing here in front of him, he’d be a lot pushier about this. Stark, though, Stark just sits down next to him and chatters about how much it sucks that he cracked two ribs and so he can’t be on the mission with everyone else. He doesn’t mind that James doesn’t do anything but sit next to him and eat his spaghetti. He talks enough to fill the entire room on his own.

It’s kind of nice.

~

The thing is, the Avengers are apparently nothing like HYDRA. They actively seem to like and trust each other. Their playful ribbing is nothing more than silly banter. Their light touches are warm hugs and not backstabbing embraces. They have movie nights and game nights and morning yoga sessions and in between it all, they hang out together and laugh and talk and love.

The thing is, Tony is warm and cheerful and lovely. James can’t remember the last time he thought that about anything, let alone a person. But as Tony comes over every single evening with delicious food—never homecooked because he says he can’t be trusted around a kitchen—and talks about everything and nothing all at once, James finds himself relaxing more and more around him.

The thing is, Tony clearly loves the team, treats them like they’re his family. He buys them extravagant gifts and goes shopping with Natasha and helps Bruce with dinner preparations. He spends hours in front of the TV with Clint, throwing popcorn at the screen during trashy soap operas. He poses for Steve’s art and he never complains when Thor hugs him just a little too hard.

The things is—if Tony can just choose who his family is, then maybe James can too.

~

“The team comes back next week,” Tony tells him one night.

James nods slowly. He knows. He’s been keeping track of the days ever since that first night when Tony had told him they would be gone for two months. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, they should be back in five days.

“What do you think?” Tony asks. “You’ve seen the footage. You know what we’re like. You ready to come out of the cold yet?”

It’s quiet for a long time. James’ stomach growls, reminding him that even though he’d polished off the serving Tony had brought for him, he’s still hungry. He had been eyeing Tony’s food up until this question (truthfully, he’s still debating tugging it closer to him; Tony never minds) but he wants to think about this first.

Tony waits for him patiently, still doesn’t push. He loves that about him honestly. He’s thought before that he liked it but he thinks now that it might go deeper than that. His…feelings for Tony as a whole might go deeper than that. And if that’s really how he feels, then he thinks there’s not a whole lot he wouldn’t do for Tony.

“Maybe,” he says eventually, still turning the idea over in his mind. “’m still a little scared.”

Tony nods and stands, dusting his hands off on his jeans. The movement startles James, who was expecting that Tony would be there a little longer yet. Did he say something wrong? Did he make the wrong choice? Did he push Tony away finally.

But then Tony reaches out a hand, holding it out for James to take. “Come on, James darling,” Tony urges. “Come home with me.”

James doesn’t really know where home is anymore but, as he grabs Tony’s hand and lets him pull him up and guide him out of the room, he thinks it might be with Tony.

Title: Spirit Bright and Beautiful Collaborator Name: iam93percentstardust Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26044267 Square Filled: G1 - Chosen Family Ship/Main Pairing: Winteriron Rating: G Major Tags & Triggers: Panic attacks Word Count: 2k

[salty-fang]

Twisted fate: Sugar edition

Chapter 2-

Marinette thought she was getting better. She really did. After all, she had adjusted to Gotham’s dark atmosphere and had only cried about losing Adrien twice. Per day. For a month. She was puzzled as to how she had ended up snarfing down Rocky road ice cream whilst bookmarking photos of Adrien. Upon noticing his toothy grin, captivating eyes and playful demeanour, a wan smile fixed itself on her face.

“No. Bad Marinette!” She remembered how quick he dropped her for Gabriel’s wishes and felt the cold, clammy hands of betrayal lace themselves around her throat.

‘Tight. Too. Tight.’ Her chest constricted as she let out a choked gasp. Her hands reached to shut her desktop down. Memories, terrible memories, flashed in her eyes. She had recognised those olive-green eyes. Those eyes clouded by greed, thirst and hunger. Hunger to trample the hopes of any opposition. Hunger to humiliate her. Hunger to seize every last important thing from her.

In a flurry, photos of her and Adrien came raining down. The mirth and adoration in her eyes evaporated, replaced by pain and bloodlust. Her bluebell eyes radiated a frigid coolness as her eyes fell upon the picture of Adrien and her third anniversary. Traitor. Her doe eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a thin line. Anger rolled off of her with each picture she ripped. She had read the attacks, the taunts and jabs at her for being a ‘whore, gold-digger’ and ‘attention seeker’. She had seen Adrien’s unresponsiveness to the situation, leaving her for the hounds to devour. Coward. She’d seen pictures of Adrien and that witch frolicking as she was left to pick up the broken pieces of her heart.

An unquenchable flame raged in her heart. With every memory, the flame burned brighter until the ache for love became unbearable. She hadn’t asked to be broken. She hadn’t asked to not be good enough. She hadn’t asked to lose control of her heart like she did but it still happened.

‘We could never be satisfied,’ she thought. The dull thrum of her heart rang in her ears as silence hung in the air. She knew she was anything special but, damn it, she thought she could be enough.

“Why wasn’t I enough?” Her shoulders shook with the effort of holding onto her sanity. A war waged in her mind as she searched blindly for anything, anything to ground her. She shouldn’t cry. He wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of breaking her. She wouldn’t -. A sound that could only be described as pure grief ripped through her throat, slashing the air. She rocked herself hoping, wishing and praying for his return to her.

She fondly whispered “He’ll come back. He always has, the idiot.” A glint of resignation shone in her eyes before she slept, her back against the wall by the door.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Damian loved Gina. He really did. He loved her composure in the face of danger and her frankly reckless attitude. But if one more person breathed her name, he would throttle them. So, when Todd teased Alfred for his fresh attire for Gina, he silently thanked the heavens for the opportunity to release some energy. He pounced, lunging for Todd’s throat wrapping his hands loosely. Nah, who was he kidding, his hands coiled tightly around his neck.

“Demon spawn, the hell?” Jason managed to choke out. Damian relished the pink hue that had crept up Jason’s face.

“Tim-no. Richard- ack, not you either,” Bruce started, voice hesitant. “Uh Duke?” he tried fumbling about for glasses and his coffee. “Ja-"

“Don’t even think about it old man, it’s Damian, you dolt,” Jason winced as he felt the nails dig into his neck.

"Ah yes, Damian, let go of him this instant. It is Damian, right? Right?" He heard the thud of someone's body hitting the floor.

Damian knew he hadn’t lost his touch. Assassin’s blood would forever run in his blood. His family were moronic buffoons, that he knew. But, if they thought he was turning ‘soft’ then they weren’t doing much to challenge the status quo and prove him wrong. They were simpletons through and through. And though he would never admit it, he loved them for it. As Jason warned him to watch his back, he couldn’t deny the thrill, the rush of adrenaline that ran through his body. Man, he loved this family.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Marinette felt weird. She knew something was wrong. The lingering feeling had teased her subconscious for a while, now. And if the urge to constantly pee, excessive vomiting and constant fatigue was anything to go on... she was pretty certain she had an inkling as to what was happening.

All it took was that test and she had her suspicions confirmed. The two lines that appeared filled her with dread and excitement. Choosing to focus on the latter for now, she squealed, shaking and shimmying the best that she could with her heavy feet. She was PREGNANT.

Crap, she was pregnant. They hadn’t talked about children. They hadn’t talked about raising a child. Their apartment wouldn’t have enough space for all of them. They didn’t have a name. They knew nothing about childbirth. They simply weren’t ready. Worst case scenarios ran through her head. What if she wasn’t a good mom? What if Adrien left her? What if he hated their baby? Or worse, what if she hated her baby?

'Wait... they used p-p-protection. So how?’ The notion cut off her train of thoughts, turning her into a blushing mess. She could feel the heat sear through her cheeks and she could see the contrast of her freckles against her flushed face.

‘Oh no. She couldn’t tell Adrien; she couldn’t burden him like that. Not when he already had so much on his plate. She wouldn’t tell him but maybe she could hint at it. Yes, that would be the ideal course of action.’

Adrien really was the most oblivious human alive. Marinette had forgotten about that factor. Two months later and Adrien still hadn’t gotten a clue. She refused to believe he was that blissfully ignorant. She stroked her developing stomach, contemplating whether she would just tell him or surprise him with a kid. She was opting for the second option as Adrien had looked more stressed than ever, running errands for Gabriel more frequently. God, she hated that man. He constantly critiqued her for ‘not being good enough for his son. After all, she was a Baker’s daughter.’

Marinette could still remember the times when Gabriel had tried to persuade her to leave Adrien without an explanation. He’d threaten her, try to win her over with money; anything to let his son be rid of her. Marinette knew the pain of being left in the lurch. She knew the pain of wondering if it was her fault. She knew the pain of wondering where it went wrong. She wouldn’t do it to him. Not like that.

And then, he’d broken up with her. She had regretted nothing. She’d left him whole. Maybe a little damaged but not scarred. And that was most important to her. She’d regret nothing. It was the least she could do to salvage what was left of her chipped heart.

Marinette had awoken to tender kisses placed on her forehead. Her Nonna looked like a mess. She looked frazzled yet she focused her energy into calming a frantic Marinette.

“Netta, my fairy, I’m,” Marinette whimpered. She could hear the shakiness in her Gigi’s voice. She was a bad luck charm. She always caused pain for everyone. Slowly, she peered up at Gina expecting disappointment to be etched on her face. Yet her face shone with love and her eyes were filled with pity, no, guilt. “I’m so sorry. I broke our pact. I’m no better than them.”

She curled in on herself, head bowed, breaths shallow.

“I’ve hurt you Marinette, I’m a failure.” A short sharp ‘enough’ cut her off. Leaving no room for deliberation, Marinette said

“Nonna, please, if anyone’s a failure, it’s me. I mean who would want a single, unemployed pregnant woman?” Gina sat with wild eyes, jaw slack as she processed what Marinette had just said.

“Hold up, you’re PREGNANT?”

“Have been for the last three months but you know.” She shrugged. She’d processed this already but Gina hadn’t. Gina had switched from pained to bubbly in the span of a few seconds. She screamed before peppering Marinette with questions. Marinette had answered most of her questions and told her killing Agreste- which one she had been referring to was a mystery- was off the table. She’d crush him and make him beg for mercy in her own time. She told her how ‘Adrien hadn’t known’ and by the time they’d finished, it was past midnight. Gina pulled her into a bone-crushing hug before tucking her into bed.

Marinette woke up with a sore back, throbbing headache and bloodshot eyes. She noticed Gina had crashed on the floor beside her sofa. The events of what had occurred last night replayed in her mind. She really fell asleep with his picture beside her for comfort. She’d called his girlfriend a witch. How was she supposed to look him in the eyes after that? She couldn’t even look herself in the eyes. She really wasn’t looking forward to their ‘date’ today. She rose, albeit reluctantly, and stretched. With a steady hand, she applied her mascara onto her lashes. Clad in a baby blue sundress and floppy hat, she set out in a bid to meet Adrien.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Marinette had arrived late but she had not expected this. Adrien and her had been enjoying their date and she had loved her triangle sandwiches. So, when Lila sashayed over, hips swinging , her mood soured and she groaned. Loudly. Apparently, that fuelled Lila's desire as she launched into an awkward kiss, teeth clashing against Adrien’s. Adrien remained motionless as she kissed him once. Twice. He felt her bite down hard on his bottom lip. He felt tears gather in the corner of his eyes. He tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. He felt her tongue slip into his mouth, demanding satisfaction.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ he wondered. ‘I should be enjoying this. So, why does it feel so wrong?’

He responded on instinct, battling her tongue with his own, with an intensity he had saved for Marinette. When they pulled apart, saliva intertwined and breaths heavy, he noticed the hungry look in Lila's eyes. She seemed to forget Marinette’s presence as she moved to straddle his hips. An over exaggerated cough had Lila leaping from his lap, yelping before her eyes settled on the culprit. Marinette. Lila chose to sit beside Adrien, wrapping an arm around his tense shoulders.

“Still disgustingly fake as ever Lie-la,” she drawled. “No personality but I see you have paid for implants.”

“I’d say it’s a pleasure to see you again but I’d be lying. And I don’t lie,” she blinked innocently. “Now scram before things get a little steamy for your virgin eyes.” Her obnoxious voice grated on her nerves. She bit back a comeback as the urge to puke bubbled in her throat. She couldn’t stop herself as she vomited. Heavily. On Lila. At least Adrien had the sense to bound away before he got hit.

Lila was pissed. Marinette had wrecked her outfit with her sick. She couldn’t twist the situation maliciously as anyone with eyes could see Marinette was pregnant. So, in blind rage, she punched Marinette in the face.

“You deserve more, bitch.” Lila spat at Marinette. Lila had intended to punch her in the stomach when she felt a hand wrap around her fist. Marinette had growled at her and she actually felt scared. For the first time in her life, she backed down. She stalked away towards ‘her Adriboo’, who was having a hard time stifling his laughter. She pouted as she realised that her pride bruised.

“That will teach you to mess with me Lila.” Marinette levelled a glare at her before she bolted.

'Run.

Run! Don’t look back!

Just run!'

She didn’t stop until she was safely on her balcony and so, she missed Adrien intervening, Lila screaming and the stranger slinking in the shadows. She just felt so dizzy. Her insides swirled and she slumped against the balcony ledge. The hand she clamped over her mouth made the sensation worse. She threw up and from the sounds of it, she had hit someone.

‘I have to stop puking on people,’ she thought as she heard the cry of indignation from below. ‘Poor sap.’ Slowly, she retreated back into the hotel room to get some rest before she met the people who made her grandma so happy.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Damian was having a horrible day. First, Grayson had chosen him as the latest victim of his matchmaking attempts. Sitting in a cat themed coffee shop, he had listened to an attention seeking gold digger ramble on about herself for an hour and a half. Did she not get tired of her own voice? He knew he had, for certain. He was ready to curse Grayson’s awful choice in people again when something piqued his interest. A harlot was engaged in battle with an angel. And from the look of discomfort on the harpy’s face, the blue-eyed beauty was winning.

He knew he shouldn’t have followed her when she left but he felt a strong pull towards her. He knew she felt sick but he hadn’t expected her to puke on him. Granted, he was hiding and the balcony was pretty low... but still. He screeched in disgust as his suit and hair were covered in what looked like bird shit. It smelt like it too. So yeah, pretty horrible day. At the very least, he could look forward to Gina coming to the mansion later today. She’d cheer him up. He just knew it.

Damian was annoyed. Gina was late. Very late. And he’d been waiting for hours for her to arrive. When was she going to get here? A soft rap on the door sent him flying out of his seat as he scrambled to unlock the door. He’d expected Gina but on their doorstep was that angel from earlier.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

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[keanureevesisbae]

Coach Cavill - Chapter 5

Summary: Amelia sees coach Cavill at Benji’s practice, the day after the pumpkin patch. 

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.2k

Warnings: None

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‘Oh no, honey,’ I say to Benji, when we’re off the parking lot, ‘I forgot my bag in the car. You go inside and get changed, I’ll be right there.’

Benji simply nods and walks inside, his sports bag thrown over his shoulder, while I hurry back to the car, to grab my bag. My head has all over the place since the moment I woke up and me forgetting my bag in the car, fits exactly in today’s events. I rush back inside and before I can walk around the corner, I hear: ‘Benji, is your mom not with you today?’

‘She is, just getting her bag out of the car.’

‘Right,’ Henry says. ‘Get dressed, okay? Ricky is doing the warm-up today, but after that, we’ll work on your grip and some other things. I saw a few things this Saturday that I want you to improve on a bit more.’

‘Sure thing, coach.’

I have to try not to scream, because Henry freaking Cavill was asking my son if I wasn’t with him today, meaning he must’ve really wanted to see me, right? Or am I reading way too much into this?

I mean, I’m thirty five years old and this stuff shouldn’t make me this giddy as if I was still in high school. Right?

Right?

I walk around the corner, to see Henry in his judogi, his black belt securely wrapped and tied around his hips. ‘Hi Henry,’ I say.

‘Amelia.’ Is his face lighting up? Am I seeing this correctly, thus not reading way too much into this? ‘How are you?’

‘I’m okay,’ I say. ‘I’ve got your sandwich with me.’ I rummage through my bag that has been everything but organized today (I’m really a mess) and give him the packed sandwich. I massage my temple when he has taken the sandwich out of my hand.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asks me.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just that I’m having one of those days that everything I do, just miserably fails. It’s a surprise Benji and I made it here alive.’ I let out a deep sigh and say: ‘I’ll just grab a cup of coffee, maybe I’ll feel better after that.’

‘Why don’t I get you a cup, while you go sit on the bleachers?’ he suggests. ‘Want a cappuccino?’

‘That would be great. I mean, I can totally get it myself.’

He shakes his head. ‘Allow me, please. Besides, if I get it for you, it’s free.’ He sends me a wink and I’m nearly one with the tiles, but I manage to keep myself upright.

‘Okay, if you insist,’ I chuckle. I watch him walk to the bar, before I make my way to the bleachers. Benji rushes towards me and throws the roll of tape to me. I somehow manage to catch it with simply one hand.

‘Nice one, mom.’ He plops next to me and I start taping in his ankle.

Henry joins us, with a cup of cappuccino in his hand. He tells me he’ll hold onto it, so I can finish up taping Benji. The two of them start to talk about the things they’ll work on today and after Benji gave me a kiss, he rushes off to join his friends. ‘Here you go,’ Henry tells me and I hear the gossiping mothers behind me audibly gasp.

Yeah, eat that up after you ladies all gossiped about me after the game.

‘Thanks, I really need it. Oh, I didn’t know they did latte art here,’ I note, seeing the heart on my cappuccino.

‘They don’t,’ he says. ‘I made it for you.’

‘Henry Cavill,’ I say with a smile out of disbelieve. ‘You keep on surprising.’

‘I sure do,’ he chuckles. ‘Back in Jersey I worked in a cafe and was one of the best barista’s they had.’ He buffs out his chest, causing me to roll my eyes, but that is more to cover up my upcoming giggles, because I’m flustered.

Call me a thirsty bitch, but I would kill to see a glimpse of his bare chest.

‘Well, I’m a professional cappuccino drinker, so let me see if this is any good.’ I cock an eyebrow, before I take a sip and goodness me, this is delicious! How is this even possible? ‘This… This is wonderful,’ I note, ‘might be one of the best cappuccino’s I’ve ever had.’

He smiles. ‘Well, I can make you a cappuccino every time you’re here. If you want of course.’

‘Of course,’ I say. ‘Really, thank you.’

‘Not a single problem, Amelia. It’s my absolute pleasure.’

I take another sip and say: ‘You left your pumpkin at our place.’

‘I realized when I got home,’ he says. ‘Okay, I might have left it on purpose, so I had an excuse to visit your house again. It sure is a lot cozier than my place and it feels like a home. Even with the enormous pile of laundry.’

I gasp, as I try to ignore the fact that he left the pumpkin on purpose so he could visit my house again. ‘You promised me not to look.’

‘Couldn’t help it. There was a lot of laundry,’ he laughs. ‘Oh, I was wondering actually: did Hattie stop by today?’

I nod. ‘She did and the three kids whose parents were going to pick them up a little later, absolutely adored her already.’

‘I think she would be a lovely teacher,’ he says. ‘She seems like the patient kind.’

‘Oh, she is. She babysat Isabella and Yara a few times and somehow didn’t need to sedate them. though I told her she could. An absolute angel she is, so I’m really grateful that she’ll be helping me out.’ This cappuccino is finished way sooner than I intended to. ‘Well, I have a deal,’ I say, ‘how about I bring you sandwiches and you make me cappuccino’s?’

‘That sounds like an excellent idea.’ Henry smiles at me and looks into my cup. ‘Let me take this,’ he says.

He stands up to walk away, but I grab his sleeve, causing him to halt. ‘Thank you, Henry.’

‘For what?’

‘Everything,’ I say. ‘After this shitty day… This was exactly what I needed.’

Henry smiles and nods. ‘Of course, Amelia. I’m happy to do it.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Benji and I walk towards the car, his arm hooked through mine. He never showers at the centre, but always at home, because he doesn’t want to be naked around everyone and honestly, I totally get it. When I had to share a bathroom with eight other girls back at our dorm in Seoul, I quickly learned that privacy is barely a thing, but it was hard on me the first few weeks.

‘No, no, no,’ I groan, crouching down near the tire, that is really really flat. I really can’t use this today. I actually can’t use this ever, but today seems like the worst day. I nearly pull out my hairs out of frustration and I am willing to just lay on the pavement and not to move, even when cars pass by. I slam the door with my hands.

‘Mom, it’s okay.’

I look over my shoulder. ‘No, it’s not. Everything is going wrong today.’

‘I’ll take care of it.’

I shake my head. ‘No, I’m not going to let you fix the tire. Knowing you, you’ll sprain your wrist, or weirdly enough, injure your back. Believe me, I’ve been there. Just… Let me think for a second.’

‘I can ask someone,’ Benji says, placing down his bag. ‘Just wait here.’

‘No, honey, I swear, if you bring back Keaton Johnson’s dad, I’m going to kill you. That man bullied me all the way through high school, but when I got back from Korea, he all of the sudden asked me out and didn’t understand no for an answer. He stalked me for three weeks!’

‘Well, I don’t like Keaton Johnson,’ Benji deadpans. ‘He always pinches me when trying to get out of a headlock and his dad is always really loud, so don’t you worry.’ He sends me me a reassuring smile, before rushing back inside. I open the trunk of the car, trying to look for that spare tire and the other stuff you need for changing a tire. My mom once showed me how to do this, but I injured my shoulder doing so, so that was the end of that.

‘Mom, I brought back-up.’

I turn around and see Benji and Henry walking towards the car. ‘Oh,’ I say and I want to say something else, but the words just don’t come out.

‘Got a flat tire?’ Henry asks.

‘Yeah.’

‘This really isn’t your day now, is it?’ he laughs and I shake my head. ‘Well, I may be a judo trainer, but I also happen to be a knight in shining armor on the side, luckily for you.’

You’re an adult woman, Amelia, please, don’t blush because of this. ‘Then I think you’ve got this covered,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’ll just lean back and let you boys do this.’

‘Have you ever changed a tire, Benji?’ Henry asks, who rolls up the sleeves of his sweater. He is already wearing his normal clothes again, instead of the judogi, making me wonder if he wasn’t going to continue to give training tonight.

‘I haven’t, coach.’

‘Well, first time for everything. You should take off your jacket. It looks new and there is a chance you might get a little dirty.’

Benji hands me his jacket and rubs his hands together. ‘My dad always wanted to teach me,’ he admits, ‘however he never got time.’

‘That,’ I say, ‘and he didn’t know how to change a tire.’

‘Can you change a tire?’ Benji asks me.

‘Well, I did do it once with grandma, only I injured my shoulder, so you, Benji, need to be careful. But, to answer your questions, I can read the instructions online and if I really needed to, I could do this. Why would I do it, when I have two very capable men around me? I think I should just leave it up to them.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Henry lets out a deep breath and gets up, stretching his back. ‘Well, this looks good and please, remember that this will only bring you home.’ Before I can say something about that, he fist bumps Benji. ‘Thanks kid, you’re a great help.’

‘I am?’ Benji asks. ‘I barely did anything.’

‘You did plenty,’ Henry says with a smile. ‘You always do.’

Benji blushes and I pat him on the back. ‘Thanks, coach.’ He loads in his own bag and some other things and says goodbye to Henry, before getting in.

‘You truly are a knight in shining armor,’ I say to Henry. ‘Really, I don’t know how to make this up to you. Somehow you’ve managed to make this day not absolutely terrible. First the cappuccino, then you change my tire and all in that progress, you are the greatest to my son. Are you even real, Henry?’

‘Very real,’ he tells me. ‘And it’s always my absolute pleasure.’ He walks to my car door and opens it for me. ‘Here, allow me, Amelia.’ He holds out his hand and though I roll my eyes, I take his hand and he helps me in my car. ‘Well Benji,’ he says, holding the door in one hand, as he leans against the doorframe with his other, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow and hopefully your mom will join us too.’

‘My mom always brings me to practice,’ Benji says, ‘don’t you worry.’

Is Henry blushing and is my son teasing him? ‘See you two tomorrow then,’ he awkwardly says, ‘and remember, Amelia, you have to get that tire checked. This one will just take you home.’

‘I know, Henry,’ I say with a laugh. ‘You’ve told me this four times already.’

‘Shoot, I’m sorry,’ he laughs, ‘just wanted to make sure.’ He clears his throat, before closing the door and I start the car.

‘Mom, are you happy?’ Benji asks.

I look to the side, before I pull up and wave to Henry. ‘Why are you asking that? I’m always happy.’

‘You were happy with dad, but that faded over the years. When we found out about dad and Mindy,’—it’s good to know that Benji hates her just as much as I do—‘you weren’t happy anymore and that broke my heart. During the process of you and dad finalizing the divorce, I missed who you were. I mean, you still put on a brave face for me and Isabella and you were amazing, but… Seeing you smile around someone who is very important to me, that means a lot.’

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ I say. ‘That is so sweet of you. But, I don’t want to make rushed decisions. Besides, there is nothing going on between me and your coach.’

‘Yet,’ he says, ‘I can see it in the way you two look at each other.’

‘Since when did you become such an old lady?’ I ask him. ‘Goodness me, you sound just like my grandmother.’

Benji laughs. ‘Well, he always asks about you.’

‘We’ve known him for a week, maybe he just wants to get to know your family dynamics a bit more. He is new in town, so yeah.’

‘Mom, do you even believe that yourself?’ He rolls his eyes. ‘Anyways, during stretching, he usually helps us and he has been asking some things about you. Like, the types of flowers you like, about your favorite movies and books and how you like your tea.’

Wow… ‘And what did you answer?’

‘Told them you love tulips, but only if they are the same color, that you love every movie with Keanu Reeves in it, that you only read books you can use for class or for your own development and that you like fennel tea.’

My son knows me way too well. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this?’

‘Because… I don’t want to interfere in my mom’s dating life.’

‘Benji! This is barely a dating life.’

‘What is it then?’

I simply shrug. ‘I don’t know. Remember, I only dated your father. I have no experience in this whatsoever. Benji, honey, I love you very much, but why am I talking about my so called dating life with you?’

‘Because,’ he chuckles, ‘I just want to make one thing clear: if you date my coach, I wouldn’t mind. That’s all.’

‘You’re a weird kid. My weird kid, but still…’

He nudges my shoulder and laughs. ‘Just think about it.’

✰ ✰ ✰

I managed to put Isabella and Benji both to bed and at ten o’clock, I finally have the chance to sit on the front porch. I lean back in the wooden chair and let out a deep sigh, thinking about how the hell I’m going to do that with the tire tomorrow. Johnny has to get to work tomorrow and won’t be back until ten in the evening, Eve has important meetings and has enough time to pick up Isabella and Yara after school, but not to help me with my car and I have to get to work.

I watch a very familiar looking car park in front of the house and Henry gets out of his car, together with Kal, who rushes towards me.

‘Hi, big bear,’ I say to him, as I scratch him behind his ears. ‘I missed you too.’ I look up and smile at Henry. ‘What a surprise visit. I’m almost thinking that you are obsessed with me.’

Henry chuckles, before taking place right next to me. ‘Well, while I was bugging you about making sure you get your tire checked, I forgot that you might be too busy. I figured I’d offer to help out. I can drive you guys to school and take your car to the shop. After that I can pick you up from work. I know that Eve picks up Isabella and Yara, so…’

I smile, as my eyes water. ‘That is so thoughtful.’

‘I’m happy to help and I don’t want you to drive around too long with the spare tire.’

I can’t help but note: ‘You seem to care.’

‘Of course I care.’

I look up to Henry, as Kal places his head on my knee. ‘Henry, I need to say something.’

‘Enlighten me.’

‘If I were single and didn’t have two kids, I’d totally go for this, whatever it is between us, but… I have two kids, I have an ex-husband and I can’t drag Benji and Isabella into something I don’t know how it will end.’

‘That is totally understandable,’ he says. Obviously he understands, he is the definition of perfection. Look-wise and personality-wise.

‘I spoke to Benji about it and he was very supportive of it and I know that Isabella will be too, but… I don’t want to rush anything. So, my pace, okay?’

‘I don’t want to rush things either,’ he says. ‘But I do have to say that it’s such an honor to be around you.’

‘Don’t over exaggerate,’ I laugh.

‘I’m not! It’s just that you are so strong and easy to be around with. Guess I’m lucky that I bumped into you in the store, picked up your tampon box, only to see you later again that night.’

‘Oh no, not the tampon box,’ I whine. ‘Can’t believe you brought that up.’

‘It’s okay, it’s just tampons.’ He clears his throat and bumps his knee against mine. ‘Well, you know, I actually watched some of your former group’s music videos and performances.’

‘Oh shoot,’ I chuckle, ‘this is so embarrassing.’

‘It’s not. I quite liked it, actually. It was very catchy. You sure are main vocalist material. I mean, for someone who only was sixteen in some of the performances, you sure as hell can sing. You still do that?’

Those compliments make me blush like crazy and thankfully it’s pretty dark, so no one can actually see it. ‘Every now and then. I usually sing in class or with my kids or at Eve’s place as a joke. I also like to overdo the happy birthday-songs.’

‘Well, my birthday is in May, so I think I have to wait awhile before I can hear an exaggerated version of ‘happy birthday’ by the one and only Amelia Jung.’

‘Well, you are always invited to come to Benji’s birthday in January and of course, my birthday in December.’

‘Your birthday is in December? When?’

‘December twenty-first. The first official day of the winter.’

He nods. ‘Well, I’ll wait for my invitation.’

‘You should,’ I say. ‘I don’t like uninvited guests.’ I look up, only to see Henry already looking at me again. ‘Well, about tomorrow, I want to leave here at seven thirty. It’s pretty early, I know, but I have to prepare some things and since my brain was all over the place today, I think I have some fixing up to do.’

‘Then I’ll be here at seven thirty, with a cappuccino for you, in exchange for one of your delicious sandwiches.’

‘Of course,’ I chuckle, standing up and giving Kal a big kiss. ‘See you tomorrow, Henry.’

‘See you tomorrow, Amelia Jung.’