#this was genuinely the only clip i could find where it was clearly visible

[grandfloridbigtallman]

alex’s little workplace injury 🩹 from 14x06

[fireladybuckley]

It Isn’t in my Blood

Fandom: 9-1-1 Prompt:  Inspired by @kitkatpancakestack‘s “what if Buck finds the pamphlet“ post Pairing: Implied future Buddie - Evan Buckley (Buck) x Eddie Diaz Word Count: 2,330 Summary:    SPOILERS - A 5x01 missing scene - Buck finds the pamphlet on anxiety and panic attacks given to him by the cardiologist at the hospital and encourages Eddie to tell him what happened. Eddie breaks down and admits that maybe not everything is okay.

Beta’d by @firemedicdiaz​ Thank you babe <3

Read it on Ao3

             “I’ll just be a minute, you staying here?”  Eddie asked, hopping out of the truck and looking over at Buck.

              “Sure, sounds good,” Buck said, yawning.  Eddie nodded and closed the door, hurrying up the sidewalk as Buck settled back in his seat.  It had been such a long, chaotic shift and Buck was exhausted; Eddie just had to drop off a form at Christopher’s school and then they were going for breakfast.  Buck figured he had time for a short nap and shut his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come.

              After a while it became apparent that Eddie was going to be longer than he’d said, and Buck was getting restless.  He grew bored quite easily of late, so he began poking around Eddie’s truck - changing the radio station, fiddling with the air freshener.  Absently, Buck hit the button on the dashboard that opened the glove box in front of him and looked down into it, wondering if there were any travel brochures left in there from a previous road trip that he could look at.   Instead, he pulled out a very different kind of pamphlet that looked like it had been shoved in carelessly and as he read the front, his eyebrows contracted with a small frown.

              Understanding Anxiety and Panic Attacks - Recognize the Signs and Symptoms

              Underneath the pamphlet were a couple of folded sheets of paper.  Upon quick inspection, Buck saw that they were discharge papers from the hospital dated a few days earlier with Eddie’s name in the patient field.

              Buck’s heart squeezed painfully as he stared at the slightly crumpled papers and then back at the pamphlet, realizing what it must all mean.  Buck had been startled earlier in the shift when that doctor had called out to Eddie, but Eddie had been very resistant to talking about his trip to the hospital.  Buck had dropped it for the time being as they had been chaotically busy the entire shift, but he had always intended to grill Eddie about it later.  Now, he suddenly understood what must have happened.  He knew from experience how scary panic attacks could be, how they could feel like a heart attack, especially if a person had never had one before.  

              He remembered how uncomfortable Eddie had looked when Buck had tried to confront him.  Buck knew how much Eddie relied on everyone thinking he was this stoic, unmoving rock, because it allowed him to hide his feelings and keep everything bottled up.  Buck was well aware that he himself and Bobby were the only two people that Eddie ever opened up to, and it made Buck’s heart hurt as he considered how shaken up Eddie must have been by the whole incident to be so resistant to telling him about it.

              Buck sighed, wishing he had known, thinking about how he could try to help Eddie as he skimmed the pamphlet.  He wanted to help, hating the idea that Eddie could be going through this alone.  He distinctly remembered how Eddie had tried to drag Buck out of his horrible depression and anxiety after the fire truck had crushed his leg and he wanted to be there for Eddie in turn.  Buck knew that Eddie had Ana, but if Buck was right about their relationship, he suspected that Eddie would be uncomfortable talking to her about his emotions.  He’d always had the feeling that while Eddie clearly liked Ana and they got along well, their relationship wasn’t particularly deep and Buck knew that Eddie had to really trust someone before he would open up.

              Lost in his thoughts, Buck was still looking at the pamphlet in one hand, the discharge papers held loosely in the other, when Eddie returned.

              “Alright, that’s all done, let’s go t-- Buck, what the hell?”

              Buck jumped as the driver’s door opened and Eddie swung himself inside, only to freeze when he saw what Buck was holding and reading through.  Buck started to stammer as Eddie snatched the papers and pamphlet out of his hands and threw them back into the glove box, snapping it shut and staring straight ahead, his chest rising and falling quickly, his jaw set.

              “Eddie, I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop, I just found that in the glove box and I couldn’t help looking at it…”

              “It’s fine.  It’s nothing.”  Eddie’s voice was clipped, and Buck could tell he felt vulnerable and was not pleased about it.  

              “I mean, it’s not nothing,” Buck replied cautiously in a coaxing tone.  He hadn’t been planning on talking to Eddie about this before breakfast, but then there was no time like the present.    “Is this why you were in the hospital the other day?”

              Eddie shot him an annoyed look, because it was obvious that Buck had seen the discharge papers so the question was redundant, but then he sighed and nodded.

              “Yeah.  I’m fine though.”

              “Eddie… you’ve been through so much.  There’s no shame in having a panic attack--” Buck began, but Eddie started the truck and cut through his words sharply.

              “I don’t panic.”

              Buck frowned as Eddie pulled away from the curb and began to drive without saying another word.  Deciding to give him some space for a few so he could collect his thoughts, Buck stayed silent as they moved through the streets.   To his surprise, Eddie pulled up in front of Buck’s apartment building and parked, still looking straight ahead.

              “I… thought we were going for breakfast?”  Buck asked slowly, not sure what to expect.  Eddie seemed to steel himself, then glanced towards the building and shut off the truck.

              “I know you’re not going to let this go, and I don’t want to do it in public.  Let’s go up to your loft.”  

              Eddie’s voice was gruff, but Buck was grimly pleased that he wasn’t resisting.  Buck knew that Eddie knew Buck would not let this slide, would not let it rest until he was sure that Eddie was okay.  Taking his lead, Buck agreed and hopped out of the truck, following Eddie up to his building and then leading the way into his apartment.

              “Let’s get this over with,” Eddie said in a resigned voice as he moved into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, Buck pulling himself up and sitting on the counter across from him.  “What do you want to know?”

              “What happened?” Buck asked simply.  “I know you went to the hospital, you were seen by a cardiologist, and now you have a pamphlet on panic attacks.  What actually happened?”

              Eddie gnawed the inside of his lip, still refusing to look at Buck as he mulled over what to say.  He was staring at the lower part of the counter in front of him, Buck’s shoe dangling in his line of sight, though he wasn’t seeing much.  All he could see in his mind was that damn suit store, the feeling of the tightness in his chest making him feel claustrophobic and deeply uncomfortable.

              “I don’t know.  We were trying on suits, and then I just… collapsed.  I thought I was having a heart attack,” Eddie summarized it as succinctly as he could, but he knew it wasn’t going to be enough for Buck.

              “Okay, but what triggered that?” Buck asked, his voice gently prodding.  “Did something upset you, or…?”

              Eddie shifted uncomfortably, and Buck’s lips curled in a small, sad smile.  

              “Eddie, it’s just me.  You can talk to me.  You know you can trust me.  Please tell me what happened.”

              For a brief moment, Eddie lifted his eyes and met Buck’s gaze.  Buck’s expression was earnest, concerned, and Eddie knew he was right.  If there was anyone in this world he could trust, it was Buck.  Still, he hated talking about his emotions, especially ones he felt like he couldn’t control.  And yet, he felt like if he didn’t share it with someone he may explode because he was starting to seriously wonder what was going on in his brain.

              “I… you know I’m not good at this,” Eddie muttered, and Buck nodded.

              “I know, but… you were there for me when everything with my parents was going on.  You told me it was okay to feel what I was feeling, and to share it.  I want that for you, too,”  Buck told him gently, and Eddie sighed.  He felt like a hypocrite; he had told Buck those things, and he had meant it.  But for some reason when it came to himself, he had different rules.

              “The last time Chris and I wore suits was at Shannon’s funeral,” Eddie said, averting his gaze once more as he began to speak.  “I guess that was already putting me on edge.  I couldn’t stop thinking about her death and everything that had happened right before she died.  I just wanted to get out of there.”

              Eddie paused but Buck didn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt.  Buck had a feeling that if Eddie stopped talking he wouldn’t start again so he waited patiently, keeping his mouth shut.

              “I think Chris was feeling it, too, but I was too distracted to notice.  And then… then the sales guy called Ana Chris’s mom.”

              Buck tilted his head to the side, looking over at Eddie, slightly confused.  Eddie and Ana had been together for nearly six months, it was only natural that at some point she would be mistaken for Chris’s mom.  But Eddie seemed shaken and Buck wasn’t sure he was going to continue.

              “What happened then?” Buck asked quietly, trying to gently prompt Eddie to speak again without spooking him.  Eddie had gotten a somewhat haunted look in his eyes and Buck could tell he was getting upset.  He was tempted to tell Eddie to stop, not wanting him to be distraught, but he sensed Eddie really needed to get it out there, so Buck would do everything he could to coax it out.

              “I- I genuinely don’t know,” Eddie said, shaking his head.  “Hearing that, it just… it intensified my thoughts about Shannon, and thinking of Ana as Chris’s mom is just - just so far beyond where we are in our relationship, and I- I…”

              Eddie was starting to get visibly upset and Buck slipped off the counter, moving over to stand beside him in case he needed support.

              “It made me realize that m-maybe I don’t want-- maybe things aren’t going so great, or something.  I don’t know.”

              “And then?” Buck prompted gently, feeling his heart break as Eddie glanced at him, clearly upset.

              “And then… I don’t know.  I don’t panic,” Eddie said stubbornly, though as he thought back to what had happened, he let out a long, unhappy sigh.  “But… I guess I panicked.  I don’t know.  I felt overwhelmed, and my chest got tight and I couldn’t breathe… I got really dizzy and fell over, I thought I was having a heart attack.”

              “Panic attacks can be really scary,” Buck told him, trying to reassure him.  “They can definitely feel like heart attacks.”

              “I don’t panic,” Eddie repeated, scowling at the floor.  “I never panic.  Not in the military, not when Shannon died, not when you nearly died several times…”

              “Eddie, you’ve been through a lot,” Buck reasoned, trying to brush off the last part of the sentence, as though it wasn’t a big deal to him that his near-death experiences were one of the things Eddie considered most upsetting.  “Do you think the shooting could be part of this?  Or is it just your relationship?”

              Eddie shifted uncomfortably again, not responding, and as Buck watched him, he saw tears start to pool in Eddie’s eyes, despite Eddie continually refusing to make eye contact.  

              “Are you okay?” Buck asked quietly, reaching out and touching him, gripping Eddie’s forearm lightly in a gesture of support.   This one little touch seemed to have caused him to come undone, however, and Buck saw his expression contort, his lips pressed together tightly as he tried and failed to stop himself crying.

              “No,” Eddie finally blurted out, seemingly completely against his will.  “No, I’m not okay.”

              Buck’s heart broke and he immediately reached out to embrace Eddie, giving him a chance to pull away if he wanted.  When he didn’t, Buck wrapped his arms around him and held him as Eddie choked into his shoulder, trying desperately to stop himself from outright sobbing.  It was rare that Buck had seen Eddie cry - he hadn’t seen it since Shannon’s death - and Buck wished he could take Eddie’s pain away, wished he could make the world right for him again.  

              After a few moments Eddie squirmed in his arms and Buck got the message that he was uncomfortable so he pulled away, but he didn’t go far.  Eddie seemed determined to not meet his gaze, furiously wiping at his eyes, and Buck gently rubbed his back, sensing that he really wanted comfort but was trying to stop himself from allowing it.  They stood like that for a while, until Eddie’s attempts at stopping his tears dissolved and he took a shaky breath, letting them slip down his cheeks as he pulled himself together.

              “It’s okay to not be okay sometimes.  You’re going to get through this,” Buck told him, his hand stilling in the middle of Eddie’s back.  “And I’m gonna help you get through it, if that’s what you want.”

              Eddie swallowed, sniffing, as he listened to Buck speak.  He’d always gone through things alone.  He’d always thought that was the best way to do it.  But in that moment, standing there, knowing he had Buck’s full love and support behind him, Eddie started to wonder if maybe having Buck at his side would be a much better option than going it alone.   Eddie nodded slowly, glancing at Buck for a moment before looking away, nodding again.

              “Yeah,” Eddie took a shaky breath and looked over at Buck, feeling the tiniest flicker of hope in his heart.  “That’s what I want.”

-----------

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[spookysanta]

The TA - two. (h.c., c.e.)

Summary: everything about this situation is...weird.

Pairings: Professor!Chris Evans x Black!Reader, student!Henry Cavill x Black!Reader

WARNINGS: none

here’s part two! she’s a bit lengthy, fyi. enjoy! :)

UNEDITED

After a couple of days, she’d gotten used to the formality that is Professor Chris Evans (and company). She’d gotten used to the emails that open with, “I hope this message finds you well”, even though it rarely did.

So thanks, Chris, for the well-wishes but no thank you.

The first day of Fall classes was stressful, to say the least. She woke up later than she intended for her 8 a.m. class, then she got lost on her trip from one lecture hall to another, and by the time she had to get to Franklin for Chris’ class, she was practically running across campus. She burst into the lecture hall two minutes before class was set to begin. Walking to the main podium where Chris stood preparing for that day’s lecture, she breathed out, “Sorry I’m late.”

He turned to her with a smirk. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just a bit of a rough day is all.” She waved him off, completely ignoring the loud slam of the lecture hall’s doors. A figure emerged next to her holding a tray of coffees from The Bistro.

“Good morning!” Henry greeted, clearly having a better day than she was. He offered Chris a cup, then set the tray down on the desk that sat adjacent to the presenter’s podium, taking the other two and offering one to her. She thanked him quietly. “You ready?” he asked Chris.

Chris laughed. And for the first time, she laughed along with him. And seeing it firsthand, she could tell they had a good relationship by the way they interacted. She could tell that Chris genuinely enjoys Henry’s company as his TA, and not just for the things that he does to be helpful—they have a good thing. “Yeah, I’m ready—I’m excited. Thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

“No problem. It was on my way here.”

She felt out of place as they engaged in banter.

She looked around the steadily filling classroom and saw students from all walks of life; she’ll admit, that’s one of the only perks of college in her mind—there was always someone for everyone. There are all kinds of people from different races, religions, creeds—all gathering to pursue higher education. In that respect, she found college to be interesting. But in any other regard, she hated it.

Henry took note of her silence, “Are you excited, (Y/N)?”

She turned to him sharply, not having anticipated him addressing her so suddenly. She nodded curtly, “Yep.”

“You don’t sound like it.” Chris retorted as he set up his laptop to broadcast a slideshow on the projector screens that took up nearly all of the space on the wall behind them. “C’mon, this is going to be fun!”

She offered them a dry chuckle as she watched the screens illuminate with a bright white background and black lettering that read:

WELCOME TO CHEMISTRY 120, SECTION D346-0

PROFESSOR CHRIS EVANS, D. SC.

HENRY CAVILL AND (Y/N) (Y/L/N), GRADUATE AND UNDERGRADUATE TAs

Yeah, that’s totally not intimidating. “Ooh,” Henry nudged her with his elbow, “look at that—you’re official.” He turned to her, pointing an index finger at the screens. “Listen, this is going to be no big deal.”

“You sound like him.” She pointed to Chris, who was hooking up a small microphone that he would connect to his shirt.

“Well I mean it. You’ll be fine. The most we’re going to have to do is pass out papers and introduce ourselves—easy peasy.”

She hummed in understanding. “Mhm.” She took a big gulp from her coffee cup, its liquid now only warm from Henry’s commute. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Henry shrugged, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good morning, class.” Chris spoke into the microphone, his voice projecting through the speakers in the room. The chatter among students died down quickly. “I’m Professor Evans and welcome to Chemistry 120, section D346-0.” She noticed that he was like her—he fidgeted, too. His hands were behind his back, but she could see him fiddling with the remote that was in them. One hand was wrapped around his opposite wrist, and his free hand twirled the remote between his fingers.

“I’d like for my TAs to introduce themselves. They’ll be helping you a lot this semester.”

He took a handheld microphone from behind the podium and turned it on, handing it to Henry. “I’m Henry, I’m a graduate TA studying microbiology.” He stated with a muted wave. “I’ve been working with Professor Evans for about four semesters now, so I’ll be happy to answer any questions you may have.” He handed the microphone to her, his thumb brushing hers when she took it. Their eyes met briefly.

“Hi, I’m (Y/N). I’m an undergraduate student studying bio. This is my first semester as a TA for this class so I’m very excited to work with all of you.” There. That was easy enough. Henry looked to her with a small smile.

“Alright,” Chris spoke up after she handed him the microphone to be put away, “so I’ll be quick with the introductory stuff—I know no-one wants to hear me drone on about safety procedures for the next ninety minutes.” He gestured to a stack of papers that sat on the desk. “Could you pass those out?” he asked Henry and (Y/N) politely.

Henry nodded, effortlessly picking up the large stack of papers. He approached her and instructed in a whisper, “Take half.” She grabbed a substantial stack of papers, making her way across half of the lecture hall and handing students a sheet of paper going by rows, mimicking the movements that Henry made. They both made it to the middle; there they stood on a walkway that connected to the path that led to the front of the room. He followed behind her back to the podium as they awaited their next tasks.

“So, what you just got are information forms. We’re going to read them, go over the most important stuff, then at the end, you’ll sign them, and they’ll be collected.” Chris cleared his throat, beginning to read from the page, only really emphasizing the important aspects of the course.

She took a page off the stack, reading as he spoke. 

COURSE POLICIES:

No food/drink/snacks in the lecture hall or lab (water in a clear container is allowed)

No electronics of any kind are allowed in the lab

Late work will not be accepted in any capacity

All paper assignments must be turned in at the end of each class to TAs

Online work must be submitted before deadline—pages will close after the assigned time

Attendance (especially on lab days) is mandatory

All absences are considered unexcused unless otherwise authorized with a note or confirmation e-mail

Now it’s all come full circle for her. She can clearly see why a lot of his previous students called him a hard ass. And majority of the policies he listed, she doesn’t even plan to uphold herself. So how could she expect three-hundred students—freshmen, at that—to comply?

The policies were reasonable, sure, but hard to enforce.

He made sure to emphasize the dress code, late work, and attendance policies; it was apparent that those were real issues among his classes over the years. “Additionally,” he continued after having spoken without stopping for twenty minutes, “this is the only introductory chemistry class I’m teaching this semester, which means everything you submit will be read and graded. There are no grades for completion or participation.”

She heard several students groan. She leaned to Henry, “Wait. He teaches other classes?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered back, “He also teaches upper-level biology and organic chemistry, and he taught a statistics class last year but I’m not sure if he still does.”

Damn. No wonder he was so organized.

And she found that interesting; that definitely explained why he would have her and Henry do a lot of the grading for this class’ assignments. He probably didn’t have time to breathe in between classes, let alone grade three-hundred lab reports.

By the end of his class that seemed never-ending, she was absolutely exhausted. She was having daydreams of her cozy bed when Henry approached her after he finished collecting signed forms from his side of the classroom. “You alright?” Henry asked.

She stifled a yawn, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good class today, guys. I’m really excited for this semester.” Chris gushed, visibly happy with their help.

“Me, too.” Replied Henry. “I think this batch will be better than last semester’s.”

“Ugh. Don’t even get me started on last semester’s class.” He shook his head as he began to gather papers and his laptop into his bag. “I’ve never wanted to rip my hair out more than I did last semester.”

Henry laughed. “Trust me, I know.”

The two assistants prepared themselves to leave. Before they said their “goodbyes”, Chris asked them to meet with him in his office (as there was another class filing in).

“So,” Chris closed the door to his office, muffling the bustle of the room outside that was quickly filling up with the literature class that started right after theirs. “I wanted to know what you’ll be doing this weekend.”

“Um…” (Y/N) was confused. “Why?”

“Because I want to get a head start on grading these papers and entering everyone’s information into the database.” He pulled the stack of forms from his bag and clamped them together with a binder clip. “So, if you and Henry are free this weekend, that’d really help me out.”

“I’m not busy,” Henry shrugged. “I keep my weekends open anyway.”

She wasn’t busy either, but the weekend to work? This couldn’t wait until later?

“I’ll be free this weekend.” She kept her voice cheery but really regretted not lying when she had the chance.

“Great.” He clapped his hands together. “We’ll plan for a time for you to come over and we’ll knock it out in an hour or two.” Come over?

“Come over where?” she asked.

“Oh! My house.” Chris clarified, “When Henry and I had a lot of papers to grade, he usually comes over to my place early in the morning, we grade papers, and we go about our day. That’s not an issue for you, is it?”

“No, not at all.” It was a bit odd, though. But she’ll be honest in saying that she found all of this…odd in one way or another.

“Cool.” Henry looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get going, I don’t want to miss tonight’s game.”

Chris’ eyes widened in realization. “Dammit.” He swore, “I forgot there was a game on tonight.” He stood and grabbed his things, going around his desk to the door, and ushering us out of his office. He shut and locked the door behind them. They walked swiftly and quietly across the front of the classroom and out the door to converse in the hallway. “Alright, you guys. Have a great rest of your day, and don’t hesitate to call me if you need me.” He waved, then turned and left through the faculty doors.

Henry looked at her. “You ready?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” Together, they walked leisurely down the stairs and out of the lecture hall, through the hustle of the “afternoon class rush”.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked for what seemed like the thousandth time today. “You’re quiet.”

“Do you think…” she paused, wanting to pick the right words to say. “do you think it’s—I don’t know—odd that Chris wants us to meet at his house to grade papers?”

“What would make you think that?”

“I don’t know, it just seems weird to me.” Someone who was on their phone bumped into her causing her to drop the books she was carrying. “Shit.” She went to grab her book, but Henry picked it up for her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He opened the doors to the lecture hall, where they looked outside and saw that it was pouring. “Wow, it’s really comin’ down out there.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t bring an umbrella.” She groaned out loud. “Fuck my life.”

Henry laughed at her misery, “You need a ride?”

“Your car’s fixed?”

“Yeah.” He fumbled in his pocket for his car keys. “I took it to the shop after our meeting. Obviously I had to call a tow truck before I could get it to the mechanic’s, but I got it there eventually. It’s doing great now in case you were wondering—it almost runs perfectly.”

“I wasn’t.” she gave him a thin-lipped smile. “Thanks for the information, though.”

“Whatever.” He scoffed playfully. “You want a ride or not?”

She really shouldn’t. This guy, as holy as he is in the eye of the Almighty Chris, could be a monster. He could be a serial killer. He could be plotting to attack her—she’d lost count of how many news stories she’s read about kidnappings on college campuses—and who knows, she could be on his list.

But then again, it was pouring outside, and the walk back to her apartment was long. The air was getting cooler and combined with the darkness of the sky and the time of day, she’d end up with the flu by the end of the afternoon.

“Fine.”

He took his jacket from his shoulders and handed it to her. “Here.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Put it on.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You need it more than me, okay? So put the jacket on.” He commanded.

She didn’t like that he didn’t ask nicely, but she did it anyway. And she wouldn’t tell him out loud, but goodness, his jacket smelled good. Like every kind of good smell that someone would want on a man combined with the smell of men’s shampoo in the hood, she was in heaven. She tried not to let it show but she made sure to take deep inhales through her nose as they journeyed to his car.

They exited the lecture hall, running down the slippery cobblestone sidewalk like the rest of the students in their avoidance of getting wet from the impending storm. He guided her to his car, opening the door for her, then climbed in the driver’s seat. “Whew,” he breathed, buckling his seatbelt. “that was interesting.”

His car was quite nice. She’d expected it to be really junky and out of shape—because of the godforsaken breakdown—but it was surprisingly clean and smelled good, too. Not in a cologne way, but in a “detailed car” way.

“Yeah, it was.” She replied, also trying to catch her breath from running, “You have a nice car.”

“Thank you. I was trying to tell you that earlier, but you didn’t want to believe me.”

“No, I didn’t.” she laughed. “You proved me wrong.”

He revved the engine. “So, where to?”

“Brookwood Heights.”

“Shut up.” He all but exclaimed, his eyes widening to the size of Mars. “I live there!”

Oh, that’s great.

“Really? That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, that’s so funny!” he pulled out of the parking lot, turning onto the busy street. “What a small world.”

They managed to get to their apartment complex without issue. He helped her get all her belongings out of the car, then grabbed his and locked his car before they went inside, the cool air of the complex’s lobby almost smacking them in the face. They trudged to the elevator, entering the small box and leaning against the guardrails in exhaustion. She pressed the 3 on the keypad. “What floor?”

Not looking up from his phone, he mumbled, “3.”

Are you kidding me?

“That’s my floor.”

His head snapped up. “So, we’re floormates, huh?” he smirked.

“I guess so.”

The elevator dinged and they stepped out. It seemed like they were deliberately walking slowly down the hall so that they could see where the other person would drop off, but they just kept walking side-by-side until they got to the very end of the hall. She stopped in front of her door. “Well, this is me.”

He stood at the door across the hall from hers and pointed at the number, “This is me.”

So, they’re neighbors.

They’re co-workers…and now they’re neighbors.

Because of course, life can’t get any more cliché than it already is.

“See you around?” he called to her once he unlocked his front door.

“Yeah, see you around.” She waved with a small smile, opening her front door and stepping into her abode.

Damn, she missed her apartment today. She tossed her keys in the bowl by the door and took off her wet shoes. Then she set her bag on the adjacent counter. She shuffled off her jacket—

Wait.

This wasn’t her jacket. She didn’t wear a jacket today. It was Henry’s jacket.

She wanted to yell. She didn’t feel like being social anymore today. She decided to set the jacket on the coat rack by the front door; that way she’ll be able to bring it to him in the morning. She went to her bedroom and stripped from her wet clothes, going into the restroom and starting a shower.

Finally.

*

The following days were surprisingly good. She didn’t gripe and moan about the weather—it was rainy every morning that week—Henry rapped on her front door at the same time and offered to drive her to Franklin Hall. Some days, she accepted, and they even stopped at The Bistro if they had the time. Some days she didn’t, and those were the days where Henry seemed more on edge, only to visibly settle when he saw her enter the classroom or laboratory.

Today was Saturday; today was the day that she had to meet at Chris’ house to grade the lab reports from Tuesday and Thursday’s classes.

She wasn’t particularly excited about it.

She had to get up early because Chris wanted to get started at nine a.m., which was ungodly early for a Saturday—or any day, really.

Three knocks sounded sharply on her front door, “You ready?” Henry’s voice bellowed through the wood.

She rushed, opening the front door. “Almost.” She shuffled on a hoodie over her t-shirt, stepping aside. “Come in.”

He entered wordlessly and sat on the first chair he saw, which just so happened to have his jacket laying across the back. “So, I’m assuming this is yours now?”

She looked at the item he was holding. “Shit!” she exclaimed. “I meant to give that back. I’m sorry.”

He chuckled at her demeanor, “It’s fine. It’s bad out today, so I don’t mind if you need it.”

“I should be fine, thank you,” she forced her feet into a pair of sneakers, fighting to get her index finger from between the shoe’s fabric and the heel of her foot. “plus, I don’t want to hog your stuff.”

“You’re not hogging anything. If you need it, wear it.”

“But it’s yours.” She threw on her backpack, grabbing her keys, phone and wallet from the bowl by the front door. “Take it.”

“No.” he laid it back in its original position on the chair. “Give it back once the storm passes, okay? I’m just looking out for you.”

She rolled her eyes, but it made her smile anyway, “Fine. Thank you.” She opened the front door and practically shoving him out of her apartment and down the hall.

“You’re welcome.”

She’s not sure what’s happening. She’s started to like Henry’s company. Her goal when everything started was to remain polite and formal, and now…she thinks of him as a friend—which was not her plan.

They rode in a comfortable silence to Chris’ house. He could tell she was stressed. “Are you okay?”

“I guess.” Her shoulders shrugged, the fabric of her hoodie rubbing against her seatbelt. “I still think going to Chris’ house to grade papers is weird.”

“Nah,” he retorted, “it’s really casual. He makes a pot of coffee, and he even made me breakfast once. It doesn’t usually take long either—in and out.”

“So, I have nothing to be worried about?” she asked, their eyes meeting when he stopped at a red light. “This isn’t a setup for the two of you murder me, right?”

“If I wanted to murder you, I’ve had ample opportunities before today to do so.”

As if that’s reassuring.

“Thanks for sparing my life, I guess.” She muttered.

“Seriously, though. Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. And if you get uncomfortable, I’ll say my apartment flooded and we’ll leave. Okay?”

She snorted, “Flooded?”

“Flooded. On fire. Intruder. My cat died. I’ll make something up.” He turned into a neighborhood of houses, pulling into a driveway behind a blue SUV, and shifting the car’s gear into “park”. “Say the word and we’ll leave, no questions asked.”

She nodded. She felt the slightest bit better about the situation. She didn’t really know if it was because he was so willing to drive her home, or if it was because he was so willing to drive her home just to keep her comfortable. Nonetheless, she appreciated it. “Okay.”

He reached behind him and pulled his shoulder bag from behind her seat. “And then, when we’re done, we can go to The Bistro and load up on cookies.”

“Their cookies are good…”

“Easily the best cookies I’ve had in a while. So, don’t do this because we’re required to, do this for the incentive of sugar.” He looked at her. “Lots and lots of sugar.”

They got out of his car with their bags and trudged up the driveway’s pavement, him following behind her to the front door. He emerged next to her and rang the doorbell.

Chris opened the door with a smile, “Hey.”

Not to mention, he wasn’t dressed like a professor at all. He was wearing grey sweatpants along with a cobalt blue zip-up jacket that was opened, showing off the white tank top he had on underneath.

And let’s not forget about the cross necklace—a minor addition, but still very important to the outfit.

“Good morning!” Henry cheered.

“Morning.” She greeted timidly.

Henry allowed her to step into the threshold of Chris’ home first. He entered, too, commenting, “Ooh. It smells good in here.”

“You caught me while I was making myself some pancakes—are you guys hungry?”

“I could eat.” Replied Henry as he plopped himself onto the couch in the front room, setting his bag on the coffee table before he sat down.

Chris looked to her, “Pancakes?” he asked simply with a point.

“Sure.” She shuffled off her backpack and sat next to Henry on the opposite end of the couch. “Let’s get this over with.” She muttered to herself. She unpacked her bag and set her laptop on the coffee table.

Not a few moments later, the two of them heard Chris shout from the kitchen, “Pancakes!”

Henry hopped up from his seat. He held out his hand in front of her, “C’mon.”

She took it and allowed him to pull her up…his hands were soft. Calloused at the knuckles, but soft, nonetheless. She almost hesitated to let go. But she did, regrettably. She followed him into the kitchen and took a plate from the stack on the counter next to the stove. Henry wasted no time in stacking his plate high with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon, drowning everything in sticky maple syrup.

She, however, was a bundle of nerves, so she didn’t grab much—only two pancakes and two strips of bacon for herself. Henry balanced his plate, a handful of silverware, and a cup of coffee in his muscular arms and walked carefully back to the living room.

“You sure that’s all you want?” Chris asked, pointing to her plate as he poured the hot coffee from the carafe and into a large mug. “There’s plenty to go around.”

She shook her head politely, “I think I’m good for now.” She took a mug from the counter and held it out to him. “Could you pour me some, please?”

“Of course.” He poured the coffee into her mug a bit more than halfway. He offered her milk from the refrigerator, and she took it, pouring into her mug leisurely. He watched her and said almost in a mumble, “So…how are you liking things?”

“What things?” she replied.

“The position. The class itself—hell, your classes. How are you getting on?”

“Good, I suppose.” She shrugged. “I like the job a lot, and working with you guys. My classes are hard this semester—I don’t know what it is, but for some reason, Calculus seems so much more difficult than I remember.”

“Who do you have for that class?” he took a long sip from his mug, leaning his back comfortably against the countertop. “Mackie?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “He assigns so much work, I can barely keep up. And his class is in Jackson Hall—on the other side of campus—so I basically have to run to his class in order to get there on time if Henry doesn’t drive me.”

“Henry drives you to class?”

Out of all she said, that’s what he clung to?

“Yeah, most days. Apparently, we’re neighbors in the same complex, and he has a class in Jackson at the same time as mine. I don’t have a car and he does, so it just made sense.”

Chris hummed. “Well, I’m good friends with Mackie; he and I were actually roommates in undergrad. So if you need me to, I can put in a word.”

“A word?” she repeated.

“Yeah. Your studies are important, but so is your job. So if you need to be excused from his class every now and again, or you need help catching up, I can help you.”

“Oh.” She pondered for a moment. She needed this job, yes, but not so much that she feels the need to fall behind on her schoolwork to keep Chris company. “Well, I think I’m fine for now, but thank you for the offer.”

“Sure. Anything to help.” He patted a hand on her shoulder, squeezing her flesh, then left the kitchen.

She sat back on the couch next to Henry and timidly ate her breakfast while he and Chris engaged in conversation about the upcoming events in the area.

We do shoulder rubs now? She asked in her brain. He seemed almost…flirty? And when I mentioned Henry driving me to class, he visibly almost tensed. What was that about?

“Yeah, I think it’s a great idea for the two of you to go.”

That’s when she started to pay attention. “Go to what?”

“There are student tutoring sessions in Hampton Hall for all undergraduate classes. Generally, I don’t make my students attend because there aren’t any undergraduate TAs in my class. But now, you’re here, so my class is on the roster.” Then, he muttered, “And Henry can take you.”

She nodded, taking her planner out of her bag. “When are they?”

“Thursdays at three. I’ve been told that they usually run about an hour, so it won’t take up all your afternoon. Then, you and Henry can do…whatever.”

Henry raised an eyebrow, eyes glancing to her, then back to Chris.

That was strange.

She didn’t question it. She was eager to finish grading her set of papers so that she could shove Henry out the door, get their cookies—that he suggested, and thus, will pay for—and head home to sleep the rest of her day away.

It took them a total of two hours to finish grading that week’s lab reports and put them into Chris’ online gradebook, and put the students’ information into a spreadsheet. After they cleared their trash and put their plates and silverware into the kitchen sink, she all but threw her belongings into her backpack. Henry put his bag over his shoulder, bushing a piece of hair behind his ear. “Well,” Henry began, taking his car keys from his front pocket and twirling the keychain around his index finger. “we should get going.”

“Sure. I don’t want to keep the two of you busy.” Chris replied as he ushered his two assistants to the front door, his tone not displaying any care for taking up the early part of their afternoon. “Have a great weekend, guys. See you Monday.”

They left and walked quietly side-by-side to Henry’s car. He backed out of the driveway and sped out of the neighborhood and down the street. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked her.

“I guess.”

“You guess?” he repeated, “What makes you unsure?”

She almost hesitated to mention it. But there was no logical way Henry didn’t pick up on Chris’ comments throughout their time there. “Chris was just acting weird, is all.”

“Define weird.”

“He kept saying things about you and me carpooling, and he even offered to excuse me from my Calc class with Mackie.” She suddenly found her fingers much more interesting to look at than the road in front of them. “And he touched my shoulder. He squeezed my shoulder, actually.”

“You think he was acting out of the ordinary…because he touched your shoulder?”

“No! Well, yes, but he seemed upset when I told him that you and I carpool, and that’s what caught me off guard.”

Henry shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t think it’s professional.”

“If he didn’t think it was professional, he would’ve said so, instead of making snide comments.”

He parked the car in front of The Bistro, then turned it off and turned to her. “Maybe he doesn’t like us hanging out.”

Hanging out? Is that what he called it?

The two of them got out of the car and walked into the cold coffee shop, standing in line behind the last patron. “I don’t know,” she said lowly so as to not disturb the other customers with their conversation. “I just think that it doesn’t make sense for him to be so…intrusive.”

He looked at her. “Do you want me to say something?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “If it’s not what I think it is, he may get offended.”

“I don’t think he will.” It was soon their turn to order. “Six chocolate chip cookies, please.” He pulled out his wallet and paid for their snacks in cash, then moved to the other side of the counter to pick them up. He handed them to her, “Here.”

“Thank you.”

The two sat at a table—a similar table to the one they first sat at together, but this one was by the floor-to-ceiling windows. He opened the parchment bag the cookies were in and handed her one. “I will say,” he started with his mouth full, “he seemed off today.”

“See? I knew it—”

“But that doesn’t mean he’s being gross, alright? Everyone has an off-day every now and then.”

The two sat in silence after that. He watched students and professors alike walk past The Bistro, some of them entering the café to enjoy pastries and coffee like they were. He began to bounce his leg on the ball of his foot; something, she noticed, that he couldn’t help but do when he was deep in thought. Either that, or sitting cross-legged and wiggling his foot back and forth.

He cannot sit still. Neither can she usually—but it’s apparent that since she’s met him, he made her feel more comfortable…safe, even. She doesn’t pick at her fingers nearly as much.

“Does he make you uncomfortable?” he asked her after a few moments of them silently people-watching. “Are you uncomfortable around him?”

“Not really.” She replied, not knowing exactly how she felt about Chris. She was intrigued by him, yes; she found him attractive, certainly; but she still didn’t know him. And because of that, she seemed to be more on edge when speaking to him. Henry wasn’t anything like that.

“A part of me just has a feeling that he’s coming onto me.”

He coughed, almost choking on his lemonade. “Like, romantically?”

“Yeah. That’s what it seems like.”

He hummed in response. He got up and threw away his trash and hers, offering a hand to help her stand. They soon left The Bistro. He opened the car door for her, then pulled out of the parking lot.

The atmosphere shifted. She knew that there was some form of attraction towards him from her, but was it reciprocated? She didn’t know, but judging by the way his eyebrows were persistent in their angry furrowing, there was something wrong with what she said at the restaurant.

They eventually got back to their complex. He didn’t say a word to her on their trek from the lot to their hallway. “G’night.” He said simply, unlocking his front door and shutting it behind him.

***

Tags (DM to be removed): @lady-x-red  @justtwhst  @lokisbitch27 @boundtomyfate​  @cyberdoshee  @liquorlaughslove @heroine-of-color

[deepperplexity]

Titel: That’s Your Patronus?!

Pairing: Lucius x Muggleborn!Female!Slytherin!Reader 

Prologue: You had been secretly admiring Lucius Malfoy for quite some time. But, as you were a muggleborn he had only glared in your direction and jabbed at you with remarks of how you did not belong in Slytherin. But, when he finds you bruised and battered by a couple of Gryffindor boys handy work he leads you away to a secret room with a worried look across his beautiful face. In the end, Lucius is the one baffled by your own secret...

Setting: Hogwarts, Room of Requirements, Seventh Year

A/N: So this is my first Lucius fic ever, I have wanted to write one for quite some time now and this idea has been with me for just as long of a time. I hope you will enjoy it! ^^ 

ABBR.: | (y/n) - Your Name |

Word Count: 3606

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Injury, Bullying, Kissing

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

You had been crying for the last fifteen minutes. Why do they have to be so mean? I never did anything to them… Your thoughts only made the salty tears roll down your cheeks at a more rapid pace. You couldn’t figure it out. You had always been picked on. The Slytherins picked on you for being a muggleborn, the Gryffindors picked on you for being a Slytherin. You had friends in both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw but you weren’t the outspoken one. You were, well, you were shy and insecure. Who wouldn’t be with constant picking and bullying? 

So you hid in an empty corridor as you wept from the ache in various parts of your body. They were clever in that sense, they didn't use magic since it could be traced back to their wands if one simply did a Priori Incantato spell and there would be the evidence for all to see. So, instead, there were kicks and hits, slaps and threats. In all honesty, that was worse than the magical jinxes and hexes. How much do you have to hate someone to physically punch them? Kick them? What did I do..?  

You sobbed as you scrunched yourself up into a little black ball between a pillar and a statue. “What did they do?” The stern and clear voice of Lucius Malfoy snapped your head up despite your eyes being red and your cheeks wet. You blushed at the sight of him while you hastily wiped away the tears. His eyes had widened at the sight of your marked face. A cut lip, a bruising jaw and swollen cheek where a blotchy red mark from a harsh slap was visible. 

You tried to smile gently as you shook your head. Your stomach was in knots and you could not help but wonder why it had to be him of all people who found you in such a state. “(Y/n), answer,” he commanded as he glared down at you. The light from a nearby torch danced across his high cheekbones and the long blond hair seemed to shimmer. He was perfection in your mind.  “Not-nothing, I’m fine,” you stuttered out as you lowered your gaze from him. Go away, I don’t need you to bash on me more, actually, I’d rather take another beating than hearing foul things from your mouth…  

His pale, slender hand appeared before your face and you reeled back from the surprise. “Up,” he commanded and you looked up at him as he folded and unfolded his hand to, in a way, ask for your hand. “Why?” you asked with a low voice. He simply tucked his chin in and looked at you with raised eyebrows. You tentatively took his hand and he pulled you up with ease. “Come on,” he said quickly with finality to his voice and tugged on your hand so you stumbled along slightly behind him as he marched to-, well, to somewhere. 

Your eyes kept darting up towards his face as your blush grew deeper while your heart pounded as your hand felt incredibly warm in his pale one. You had no clue where you were or where you were going as all you could see was him by your side holding your hand and dragging you along. 

It wasn’t until he stood still that you looked around. He was glaring at the wall before you and a moment later a door appeared. You gawked at it but your attention wasn’t fully on it as Lucius still had a tight grip of your hand. Once the door was fully formed he opened it and pulled you in with harsh movements that felt better than they should have. That somehow took away all your notion of throbbing pain in other parts of your body. 

You had worshipped him, pined for him and longed for him desperately the last two years. But you were nothing to him. All he did was glare and hiss at you; as often as he could it seemed. So that he held your hand was some kind of world-altering experience as you had only been able to guess what his skin felt like, if his slender fingers were strong or not, if he would pull or wait. Well, now you had your answers. 

The room was pitch black as the door closed and then little twinkling lights shimmered and shined in the ceiling while a fire roared to life all the way over on the other side of the gigantic room. You took a deep breath as it suddenly felt as if you weren’t being crushed by harsh stone walls any longer. You had needed the space, without even being aware of it yourself. Okay, usually I just go outside when I feel like that and it helps. I didn’t- who knew a room like this existed? How is this existing? It’s as huge as the Great Hall for Salazar’s sake! 

You looked around with wide eyes but snapped out of it as Lucius let go of your hand before he walked over to a rather huge sofa of the darkest green shade. You instantly wrapped your arms right under your breasts in comfort. You hugged yourself as you looked at his back. He walked with such grace and poise it was hard not to stare. The blonde hair that hung loosely around his shoulders that was covered with the Slytherin House marked cloak. 

“(Y/n), come,” he said without looking back at you and your body jolted into a brisk walk. He sat down on the sofa and once you reached it yourself you stopped, hesitated. Were you supposed to sit beside him? As if he had read your mind he patted the cushioned seat right bloody next to him. You bit your lower lip and took a seat. 

You smoothed out your skirt and kept your knees pressed tightly together. You were no longer crying but you were a sordid mess next to the perfection that was Lucius. You felt his eyes rove over you as you held your gaze transfixed on your fidgeting hands that laid atop your thighs. Yet somehow, you were smiling. It wasn't that much of a surprise actually. you were always smiling. It was nearly a habit but also genuine.

“Tell me,” he said rather clearly, “what happened this time?” he continued with a voice that was perhaps a tad softer. You weren’t quite sure. About his voice or what you were supposed to tell him. His pale hand grabbed your fidgeting ones in a steady grip and you gasped. You couldn’t help it as he nearly gave you a heart attack with the sudden move and strength of his long fingers. “Tell me,” he urged and his voice was a bit clipped. Harsh actually. 

You furrowed your brow as you dared a look at the young man you were so utterly enthralled with. Who had filled your nights with steaming dreams and your warm showers with thoughts of wandering hands and echoing moans. But it had always ended the moment you remembered that he was disgusted by you. By your blood status.

But there he was, holding your hands in his. There he was, seated beside you in your solitude. There he was, wondering what had caused you such pain. And there you were, feeling utterly miserable as the only thing you could think was that you were about to be terribly broken one way or another. No good could simply come from being so close to him, it wasn't possible.

“It was nothing, they just teased me for not being able to produce the Patronus in defence against the dark arts today…” Your voice was low as you tried your best not to lose your courage to speak while you looked at his magnificent face. He let out a little hiss. “Dunderheads, the lot of them.” Your eyes widened in surprise. That was a rather mild comment as it came from him. You had heard far more colourful descriptions of Gryffindors from his lips. 

But his voice, that was what somewhat shocked you. He sounded angry. But why on earth would he be? He took jabs at you all the time, made sure you knew your place - not in Slytherin and not in proximity to him or other purebloods. He was eager in every way to push you down, down, down. 

Your thoughts drifted to the lesson that was the base for that day’s bullying. You had tried, with all your might, to produce your Patronus. You had done it a few times before, away from others. And since you knew what your Patronus was - well, it put a kink in your will to show it to others. So even if you had truly tried with all your might, your will had not been in it. 

“Do you not have happy memories?” Lucius’s voice broke through the light fog that clouded your mind and you smiled in a gentle yet kind of sad way. “I do,” you said as your fiddled with your fingers, your hands in your lap as he had released you a moment earlier. “But?” You peeked at him from the side and he looked at you intently, as if he actually cared or wanted to know. I need to be careful, he might, might just be setting me up for something… “I didn’t want to do it,” you shrugged while you spoke in a low voice. 

There was a moment of silence and Lucius had grabbed your hand yet again. It sent jolts of warmth through you and you did your best to hide your feelings, hide what you knew was a lost cause and an endless torrent of heartache and pain. “Why?” The word was quite simple, so was the question. Yet you found that you didn’t know how to answer it. Could you tell him about your Patronus? Could you tell him how you feared it would make you an even easier target for bloodshaming and bullying? Could you trust him enough for that? 

No, no you couldn’t. But you could tell him your reason for not wanting - without giving away too much. “I-, I didn’t want others to see my patronus.” “A patronus is something to take pride in,” Lucius said as he gave your hand a little tug and forced you to give him your attention, “not to hide away.” You tilted your head at his words. Sure, you say that now. Your patronus is a damn peacock! Nothing to hesitate about, it’s just beautiful and perfectly suited for you. Proud and independent, majestic yet wonderfully gentle. So yeah, of course, you’d say that… A damn peacock is nothing to mine… 

“Show me,” he said with that voice that was as gentle as it was dismissive. He just had it in him, his status, purity and family were so imprinted that he carried himself and spoke in a way that wreaked superiority, even when he doesn’t mean to sound harsh he still dose. “I-, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you mumbled out as your cheeks blushed. You felt it creep down your throat and further down to your chest covered with your shirt and tie. “Show me,” he said again and you looked into his beautiful eyes. His face framed by long, blond hair and his features were chiselled to perfection. 

You swallowed as heat swirled through your veins and gathered in the pit of your stomach. You could not help but imagine what his warm hand would have felt like if he caressed you in places none had before. How it would have felt if he had pressed his lips against yours. How it would have felt to hear words of endearment from him. The thoughts made you shiver while you were incredibly warm. 

You shook your head. He glared at you, even if there was another emotion that swirled in his bright eyes of the clearest grey. He always glared at you so it wasn't really something new. Yet it felt different when you were seated so close, while you were alone in a hidden room. It was different, yet the same. As landscapes changed with the seasons, it was different but still the same.  

He released your hand and produced his wand. “Expecto Patronum,” he said with conviction and strength to his voice. A bright light swirled from the tip of his wand as a peacock emerged in a silvery-blue light. It spread its tailfeathers and pranced around in a display of some swaying and soft sort. It looked quite astoundingly beautiful so up close. You could not help but stare at it with awe. But you did not wish for another Patronus, you loved your Patronus - it was just so different… 

“I’ve shown you mine, show me yours.” You took a shaky breath. His words were harsh and not to be refused. You knew him well enough to know that you had no way of getting out without producing your Patronus for him to see. “I’m sorry,” you said as you produced your own wand, “I’m not sure you’ll like it.” “Do you like it?” “I love it,” you replied with rosy cheeks and an embarrassed smile. “Than I should think I will find it intriguing.” You chuckled at his words. I think you’re right, for good or bad.  

You rose and took a step forward, so as to give yourself a little space from him. He clouded your mind and you couldn’t focus when he was so close. You racked your brain, searched for a memory that could fill you up and help bring forth your Patronus. When you found it you allowed it to consume you and then you flicked your wand up a bit higher. “Expecto Patronum,” you said as steadily as you could with that gentle voice of yours. 

“Holy Merlin-!” was the first thing that was heard as your Patronus stood proudly next to his little peacock that swiftly disappeared as Lucius’s focus was broken. You peered up as you craned your neck. Your classmates had showcased everything from mice to bears, horses to dolphins, tigers and owls - but your Patronus was on another level. “ That’s your patronus?! ” Lucius nearly shrieked and you looked towards him. He was paler than pale, pushed back into the sofa as his bulging eyes stared, he nearly gawked, at the T-Rex that had sprouted from your wand - fueled by happy memories.

The T-Rex walked around in the huge room for a moment, its teeth gleamed white from the light and so did the claws and eyes. It was a weirdly viciously beautiful sight and you did truly adore it. Your Patronus. “Yes, that is my patronus,” you said as you looked at the T-Rex. “ What the bloody hell is that thing?! ” You chuckled at his ignorance. “What, you’ve never seen a tyrannosaurus rex?” “A tyrano-what-now?” You chuckled at his confusion. “Tyrannosaurus rex, a T-Rex,” you stated to simplify it for the confused pureblood. “I have not and I hope I never shall!” 

You laughed at his words and horrified look, and the T-Rex seemed to focus on you with a gentle shine of happiness. “What?” Lucius asked in confusion and irritation. “They’re extinct, been for millions of years. They were walking the earth long before us,” you said as you tried to collect yourself from the fit of laughter. “Good,” he muttered as he glared at your Patronus. It glared back and you saw Lucius lower his gaze for a moment. Intimidated by the humongous creature of happy light portraying fangs and claws created and evolved for killing.  

“How can you have such a beast for patronus?” he asked as his gaze slid over to you rather than the T-Rex of happy light. You lowered your gaze a tad as you fidgeted with your fingers. You pulled a bit on your skirt, unknowing of what to say. “You’re so gentle, and weak. How can you have that within you?” His words were harsh and cold yet it felt as if he were not being mean deliberately. Perhaps it was just so ingrained in him? “I don’t know, perhaps because I am gentle?” He looked confused at that. But you continued, “perhaps because I am gentle and weak, as you point out, on the outside. You do not know anything about me or who I am. To you, well to you I’m just a filthy mudblood, no?” 

His head had jerked up at your own insulting words aimed at yourself. He looked at you, anger flashed in his cold eyes and you felt a shiver that travelled through you as you tried your best to hold his gaze. “That’s what I have always been to you, and will always be, a dirty thing only worthy of hateful words,” you continued with a gentle yet sad voice, “you’ve made that quite clear.” His hands fisted and he looked away from you. His lips sealed tightly. Your heart hammered in your chest as you tried your best to hold back the tears that wanted to escape. I will not cry, I will not cry again tonight. I knew, knew this was a bad thing. 

He rose from the sofa as your Patronus vanished. He straightened and you allowed yourself a second to just look at him. Admire him for such a fleeting thing as looks. Because he was gorgeous. Handsome, beautiful even. “Don’t you understand? I have to do that or I would go utterly mad.” Your eyebrows knitted together at his gritted words. “I do not understand, at all.” He glared at you when you spoke. Anger and rage in his eyes. “If I do not make sure you stay away from me I will not be able to stay away from you,” he growled on a hiss and you took an involuntary step back at the coldness of his tone. Yet your heart, your heart fluttered in your chest as his words echoed in your mind. 

“You like me?” you whispered out. “Of course I like you, who the bloody hell wouldn’t?” You gaped at him and tried to find any words to utter but your mind was completely blank. “You’re beautiful, smart, gentle and kind. Always smiling despite everything, always. bloody. smiling! ” he gritted out as if it were a crime against humanity to smile, “how can you possibly be so damn happy? Even now your smiling, you’re bruised and battered, bullied and alone in the world - yet you are still bloody smiling?!” His nostrils flared as he spoke, anger again visible in those cold eyes of his that you wanted to keep looking into for all time to come. 

“The world won’t be a better place just because I allow it to crush me,” you whispered as you tried to contain that smile he spoke of. But it was difficult in his presence as he made you feel such strong emotions that were both happy and sad. Your smile that of both joy and sheer will to not let things smash you into pieces. A self-defence mechanism and at the same time just who you were, how you were.

His face smoothed out, surprise in his eyes this time as he just looked at you. Baffled. “It won’t be a better place just because you smile either,” he countered. “No, but at least it won’t be worse.” He huffed at that and looked away. For a moment you felt a need to just lash out at him, release all the pent up anger, sorrow, hurt and misery. But that was not you. No, you were kind and gentle and would suffer in solitude if the awful emotions needed to come out. 

“You’re an idiot,” he grunted on a sigh. “Perhaps,” you said in return. “Or maybe I’m the idiot.” You knitted your brows at him again. “I don’t think so,” you responded with a pondering voice as you tried to contain your emotions and not let your mind run wild with the desire you felt for him, “why would you be the idiot? You’re smart, ambitious, excellent at many things. Popular.” “Yes, but if I were smart I would not be here alone, with you,” he hissed as he stepped towards you.  “Why?” you asked, your breath caught in your throat as he was inching ever closer. “Because if I was not alone I wouldn’t be able to do idiotic things,” he continued as he stopped right before you. “Like?” you whispered as your heart hammered from his proximity and your head fuzzed over from the manly scent that wafted from him, a gentle yet firm aroma that smelled like heaven; or hell - you weren’t quite sure. “This,” he growled and grabbed your chin before he smashed his warm lips against yours. 

For a moment you felt nothing, and then - everything. All the longing, desire, love and affection bubbled up along with the fear and sorrow of all hurtful things he had done to you. It was too much, too many emotions and you could not contain the tears that had been wanting to be released. So you cried silently as he kissed you with passion, his arms wrapped themselves around you as your hands grabbed his uniform and tried to pull him even closer. 

When the kiss was broken and you both panted while you looked at each other he reached up and wiped away your tears. “I don’t understand,” you murmured as you worried your lip. He tilted your head with a finger under your chin. “You do not need to understand.” “But-” “Always smiling and yet when I kiss you, you cry,” he said to cut you off and you felt a smile tug at your lips. You couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry,” you apologized and he raised his brows in a harsh way. You wanted to look away but couldn’t. “Do not apologies, I feel rather special,” he admitted and you could have sworn that his cheeks were taking on a tinge of red for a moment. It made your heart flutter again and somehow you found your courage and pulled him in for another kiss with absolutely no clue as to what was happening or how it would be after you left the secret room. But if this was your moment with him, you would make the most of it...

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

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Taglist:  @lizlil​ @snapefiction​  @darkthought15  @monstreviolet  @flowerdementia​  @marvelschriss​ @simpforsnape

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[Jan:2021]

[knightofmordred]

let's talk about gwen's trauma in bbc merlin

tw // trauma, grief, torture, death, potential racism.

im not sure what else to tw but my post will surround conversations such as these so if you are reading this and may be triggered please either stop or read with care <3

forgive me for any mistakes i will mainly be talking from memory and ofc if i say anything wrong please lmk !!

generally to start off, all of the main four characters went through trauma however you were always able to see their reaction/result of their trauma e.g morgana turning evil, arthur being self-conscious and doubtful of himself and merlin putting up a barrier in S5, but with gwen there was never anything like that which happened.

gwen went through so much throughout the entire show and yet nothing was ever handled or addressed within the show.

SEASON ONE

from the beginning it was indicated that gwen's mother passed away before the time frame shown in camelot and of course that was later confirmed. the only mention about her mother, that i can remember, is when gwen briefly spoke about how her mother was a maid in sir leon's household. we also know that elyan left camelot shortly after their mother passed away, clearly the reasoning was from grief and hurt. we didn't get to see gwen deal with the loss of not only her mum but also her brother, yes he was still alive however he left without a word, gwen and her father were left alone trying to survive.

(also elyan's trauma is also something important to be raised and spoken about)

during this time gwen and her father were still able to make a life in camelot, thomas being a blacksmith and gwen getting a job as morgana's maid. of course events unfolded and gwen was accused of witchcraft. she was thrown in prison and set to be executed. as we know this isnt the first time this will happen. we obviously saw gwen distraught and inconsolable trying to deal with her sentence however this epsiode revolved a lot around morgana and merlin more than it did gwen. e.g. them trying to release gwen etc

a few episodes later thomas is the one imprisoned and eventually was killed due to his attempted escape. again this epsiode focused more on morgana and merlin. the small clips we saw of gwen crying over her father whilst he was imprisoned and then again when she was mourning her father were little to nothing, and the only other scenes surrounding gwen were shown as her being "strong and getting her life back together". following on to merlin asking gwen if she would wish uther dead and she said no, if he died she would feel nothing but wouldn't wish him dead.

now why does gwen have to be this strong and kind hearted woman especially in this epsiode. she lost her father, practically her last and only family member left as elyan was awol and yet she was portrayed this way. she would have been allowed to be angry and upset over everything that happened.

there was a scene where gwen was crying with morgana and spoke about how she cannot go home but it wasn't about her father. it was about tauren - the man who hired thomas for whatever he was making,he came and threatened gwen.

SEASON THREE

a season later gwen and arthur are romantically involved and caught by uther and morgana during a date. uther banished gwen and was later accused of magic (again) and set to be executed (again). this episode focused more on gwen than the last ones i spoke about but again morgana and merlin's side plots were heavily involved.

after each event has taken place in these episodes, it's almost as if gwen's trauma and what she went through were put aside or forgotten about. twice she was nearly killed and once she lost her father.

later, gwen was kidnapped by cenred and morgause and threatened to bring arthur in exchange for elyan's life.

noticing a theme so far? gwen's trauma seems to be revolved around the white characters surrounding her, whether it is entwined with another character's plot or focuses on them.

SEASON FOUR

i don't remember the epsiode but i believe it was the dochard episode. gwen was attacked by morgana in an attempt to kill her.

during this time too she was also looking after and caring for uther. we know she wasn't doing it for uther but for arthur and her love for him and so he wouldn't have to worry and can focus on his duties but....she was still looking after the man who killed her father, nearly killed her a couple of times and overall ruined her life too.

now we get into gwen and lancelot. of course we all know lance was a shade and gwen was enchanted. the way this epsiode was and how they decided to portray gwen and lance for me was ://

again gwen was thrown in jail. the bracelet was never found and nothing ever came to light that she was enchanted.

so...gwen had to live with all of that regret, guilt and feelings of not understanding or knowing why she kissed lancelot for the rest of her life.

she was banished and threatened with death if she ever returned (again).

shortly later in S4 EP11, she was kidnapped (again) whilst living in ealdor. she was able to escape but then turned into a deer by morgana??? then accidentally hunted by arthur and mithian leaving her injured and hurt. which is so unnecessary because why tf turn her into an animal ???

she was nearly killed again.

and again nothing was ever addressed or spoken about in terms of what gwen went through.

SEASON FIVE

S5, uther came back as a ghost, he threatened and attacked gwen to the point she nearly died had she not been found by merlin.

in the middle of the season, gwen was kidnapped and tortured which eventually led to her being enchanted and under morgana's control in the Dark Tower.

again, gwen's trauma is tied to a white character (as in plot and needs etc).

during her enchantment gwen did a few things:

poisoned arthur and nearly killed him

killed tyr

imprisoned merlin and blamed him

conspires with an enemy and tried to kill arthur again

her enchantment was thankfully lifted but once again it just seemed like it was ignored once it was over but also i know S5 was rushed in itself anyway.

tbh you could say gwen knew nothing and couldn't remember what happened whilst she was enchanted but in With All My Heart there seemed to be some awareness from gwen about her enchantment. and also ofc people would say she couldn't remember in order to avoid the conversation around her trauma.

in the finale we see gwen in the battle helping the wounded and when the battle is won we see her having to cope with the fact they couldn't find arthur.

by this time we know where arthur is and it cuts to a scene of leon telling gwen arthur has still not been found and of course gwen is visibly upset.

when gauis comes back and gwen is informed of arthur's condition of course she believes he will get better but then she would have had to battle with the thoughts he wouldn't.

i really wish there had been a scene after this where gwen just talks to someone about what exactly she is feeling but instead it cut to the plot about eira.

the ending was kind of the same for everyone, no one got to mourn apart from merlin.

overall it just makes me so sad that gwen went through all of this and it was ignored or pushed aside because she is a "kind, strong and honest woman". she went straight back to work when her father died because it was "better than sitting in an empty house waiting for my father to return" no gwen!! you can do that if you need to!! you are allowed to be sad and hurt!!

i genuinely do think it is racist writing as black women especially are portrayed as "strong women who get on with things" when actually they've gone through a load of traumatic events and as any else are should be angry and upset and should be allowed to be portrayed that way too.

it also angers me that majority of these events which took place and gwen's experiences/trauma were almost always tied to a white character and aiding their development/storyline/plot. just why

[ponyguru]

Tonight I watched all of He-Man: Revelations and most of Centaurworld (I watched the first three episodes like, a week ago?) and I have ... opinions. (And it’s 4:37am, might as well share them while they’re fresh!)

(Warning, this got very long and ranty, sorry for stretching out your dashboards if that’s even still a thing anymore?)

He-Man was entertaining, but it did feel like (as someone with like, less than a passing knowledge of the characters) someone’s super-angsty fanfiction more than like ... a continuing series. They killed off multiple well-known, beloved characters, to drive home the point of how SERIOUS and how HARDCORE this series is, and instead it felt like being a little kid in the 80s watching Optimus Prime get murdered to sell more toys. Like, WHY DID THEY DIE? Oh right, to show the viewer how SERIOUS the bad guys are! And to give the other characters things to angst over, to show you they’re no longer just shallow 80s muscle man stereotypes to sell toys! But then you gotta wonder, where will they go from here? Who’s even left to continue the storyline? Is it still He-Man if half the supporting cast is dead?

Like I said, I’m not a He-Man fan by trade, but aside from the pointless murder, it did seem like it delved into the backstories that a lot of people have probably wanted since the 80s, and it made some very interesting points. So, hey, maybe it’ll be beloved by its fans! And it was very entertaining, especially as someone who wasn’t a childhood fan so I didn’t have a lot of nostalgia that I had to watch die. It doesn’t end on a happy note, there’s definitely the ‘what if the villains WON’ theme going, so maybe my opinion will be less dour when the next part comes out. (I did like that it focused more on the female characters, which was a very unexpected change, and in that aspect I felt it was very well written; that could explain why I’ve heard other screechingly negative feedback elsewhere online, heh. He-Man fans probably don’t appreciate the heavy preference paid to Teela.)

Centaurworld was ... well, I watched the first episode with my mother, which was a Huge Fucking Mistake. I heard that it was a thrilling combination of something akin to Adventure Time and a more serious cartoon like Avatar, and instead I got 10 minutes of that, and then 16 minutes of continuous ass, fart, and poop jokes, combined with a couple of great tunes and a lot of tuneless recitative style “songs”.

If you follow this blog, you probably know toys; you know the Poopsie Surprise toys? The ones which were so obsessed with uncomfortably sexualized poop/fart/barf references that entire scholarly articles were written about the sexualization of children with scatology-themed toys? Yeah, that’s what Centaurworld felt like, almost the whole time. Like just ... an uncomfortable amount of poop/butt/fart “jokes”, to the point where it felt like it had to be one of the writer’s fetishes. Like, it was clearly not funny, and the main character is clearly uncomfortable with it ... and it just keeps going.

I say jokes in scare quotes because jokes are supposed to be funny, and a lot of Centaurworld just wasn’t funny. You could tell it was meant to have jokes, but it was very much dated early-2000s type humor, I want to guess? The kind where it’s not so much ‘setup-punchline’ but the more ‘awkward reference awkward reference awkward reference drawn out wooooord’ type of “jokes”. And most of those “jokes” were just - you guessed it - drawn out references to butts, or farts, or some combination of the two. I felt like an aged boomer watching it. I like to think I’m hip and with the times, but it felt like it should be aimed at a middle schooler - but like, an oversexualized middle schooler? It was uncomfortable to say the least. (One character talks to his farts, claims they talk back to him, and he addresses them as ‘Daddy,’ while another character expresses how uncomfortable that is, and implies he has “issues” to unpack. Because that’s hilarious, I guess?)

Centaurworld did, beneath the heavy layer of scatology, have an intriguing storyline. A warhorse from a LOTR-style world is thrown into a wacky Adventure Time-type land made up of silly centaurs, and has to try and find her way back home. It was thrilling at times, if you could slog through everything else that beleaguered it. There were some really good jokes! But I couldn’t quite muster up a laugh, because I was still wondering when the next butt reference would sneak in. After ten terrible jokes, the one good joke couldn’t manage to lift me from the depth of despair I’d sunken into. It really only felt like the show got ‘tolerable’ around episode 7 (out of ten!!!!), which was an episode heavily focused on cats. (Which, again; wasn’t the internet very much about LOLCats in the early 2000s?)

If six episodes of a ten-episode series is nigh-intolerable, is it a successful show? Should you bother watching something that is 60%+ garbage? (And DON’T FUCKING WORRY, the poop/butt/fart jokes continued UNTIL THE FUCKING FINAL EPISODE.)

I suspect that, if there was a “goal” for all of the fetish stuff (beyond fetish stuff for fetish sake), it would be to illustrate to the viewer how uncomfortable the main character feels in this strange new land, and for us to share in her discomfort. Which, fine, sure! Secondhand embarrassment is definitely a trope. But the sheer uncomfortable volume of the poop/butt/fart jokes clearly went way beyond mere discomfort, and veered into ‘why is this coming up so much, is someone getting off on this?’ territory, at least for me. A couple butt jokes an episode, fine, okay. Entire five minute bits devoted to farts and butts? Entire songs about butts? I start questioning why it’s such a beloved subject for you to write about.

Plus, and I may be reading into this too much, but several of the only Black-coded characters felt racist. I’m talking neck-snapping, tribal body paint type racism, although only one got the exaggerated “soul” type music to sing, which I guess is a relative win? (Waterbaby and Judge Jacket, if you’re wondering who I’m referencing. One of them is a literal hippo centaur, giving us shades of Madagascar.) It wasn’t obvious, but combined with everything else, it felt ... bad. (There are multiple other nonwhite voice actors who aren’t stereotypes, so maybe it was just a bad case of ‘trying to represent different culture while being clueless white people’, who knows?) There was also some classic fatphobia, with one of the villains being shown as a fat neckbeard collector/nerd. Wasn’t that relevant in - wait for it - the early 2000s? They redeem themselves very slightly by having maybe two other characters who are visibly fat, but one of them is also viewed as an antagonist.

Anyway, I was disappointed enough with the show to feel like I should say something, so - there it is. Centaurworld did have some good moments, some lovely songs, and there was some really heartwarming and tender character development that I liked, sandwiched between huge swaths of discomfort. There might be a season 2 (there shouldn’t be, LOL) and hell, I will probably suffer through it because I want to see what happens to them. But I can’t recommend that anyone else do the same, in all good conscience. It’s not good. It’s just not. But if you have 5 hours to kill, there’s worse stuff out there?

If you want to watch one episode to see the best of the series, I recommend episode seven, “Johnny Teatime's Be Best Competition: A Quest for the Sash.” It’s themed after the CATS musical, and the extended number at the end gave me shades of MLP or Fashion Star Fillies. (I found an official clip of the song posted here.) There’s also other lovely songs in the series, but you’d have to suffer through entire bad episodes to see them. The lovely “You’re Okay” shows up in the very first episode, so if you’re curious give that a watch... just be aware it never gets better, only worse.

This series genuinely upset me, because I wanted it to be something much better, and there were glimpses of it; you just had to try and close your eyes to the obsession with butts and farting to see pieces of what it might have been.

One notable fact that I thought was kind of like ‘wow, oof’ was that Meghan McCarthy, of MLP:FiM fame, was a story editor for Centaurworld. And considering how MLP went downhill in later seasons, I gotta say I’m wondering if there’s a commonality there. Maybe her fetish is bad writing? There’s worse fetishes to have, AS CENTAURWORLD CLEARLY DEMONSTRATES.

[lassieposting]

Hey, I saw you did a hc thing for Scaracen/Dexter and I was wondering if you could do one for Ghastly/Skulduggery?? (I love the pairing but there is no content and it makes me sad) Hope you are having a good time :)

I genuinely thought I had done this for ghasdug but apparently not? I can't find it anyway

There is content in my ghasdug tag but tbh in my experience the ghasdug shippers are on discord mostly...hit me up

ANYWAY

So. Ghasdug. Ghastly wants skug from the start.

They're 16 when they meet. Ghastly gets a bit seasick and doesn't really want to go anywhere by ship, but his mama tells him he needs to, there's something important for him on that ship, that one right there, and he trusts her enough to know that she's clearly foreseen something and to just go with it.

By the time they get back to shore, he's already thinking, it's you. I was supposed to meet you.

They head back to Dublin together. Ghastly's mama takes one look at this awkward, skinny, skittish child and decides she's adopting him, and skug moves into their farmhouse and is subsequently freaked the fuck out by his very first experience of A Loving Family. Ghastly's mother like, hugs him and reminds him to wear a coat and clips his ear for swearing and makes sure he eats breakfast. He is semiferal and not used to any of this.

For a few months they settle into a comfortable routine:

- Ghastly's father spends the week making clothes, then does commission deliveries one day and takes hats and boots and suchlike to the market the next.

- Ghastly's mother has a job as a barmaid, where she gets to regularly crack some skulls and socialise, which is great for her because she is both a short-n-stocky powerhouse and a giant extrovert.

- The boys spend most of their time together, and they're supposed to do the bulk of the chores. It's not a large commercial farm - they have a vegetable garden, and some chickens, and an old carthorse, and maybe a couple of goats or a cow for milk and cheese. Ghastly and Skug are supposed to cut firewood and feed the animals and fetch groceries from the market and milk the milkable animal and fix this and repair that. All the things the parents dont have time for

Which. Is great in theory but skug has never had to do a hard day's work in his lazy aristocratic life, and develops a severe and immediate allergy to manual labour, so actually ghastly tends to do most of the chores while skug skives off and naps in the sun or chats up the girls who live on the neighbouring smallholding over the fence

And like, therein lies the problem, because they are both solidly in the grip of that cruel mistress called puberty and like. Skug was a fuckin weird-looking child. He had big ears and a sharp nose and a bunch of missing teeth and his limbs were all too long for him. But he's now rapidly growing into all the features that made him an unfortunate child, and it's already clear that he's going to be one of those people who will, inevitably, grow into handsome young men.

Which is like. Fine. Ghastly doesn't care. He's not jealous or anything. He doesn't feel a twinge when the neighbour girls only speak to him to ask about Skulduggery. Nobody here is bitter.

It's a good thing, he tells himself. Nobody will want to marry him anyway, so he's glad skug is around now so Mother can harass him to meet a nice girl and give her grandchildren. At least someone will probably want to have children with skug.

He has a dream about skug not long before his 17th. They share the attic room, and when he startles awake, skug is smirking at him from the opposite bed and asking "who is she?" and ghastly thinks oh no. He's painfully embarrassed and awkward about it, and skug rolls over and stretches and says, "relax, bespoke, your secret is safe with me" and all ghastly can focus on is that he's actually been putting some muscle on lately and when he stretches like that it does funny things to ghastly's insides.

- they start riding into town in the evenings to meet up with hopeless at the tavern, play cards and flirt with pretty girls. Or rather, skug flirts with pretty girls. He's all legs and freckles and elegant clothes, and they hang off his every word. Ghastly knows they will never look at him like that. He's Skulduggery's ugly friend. Girls only approach him to ask about skug

- and he gets it! Skug is unfairly attractive! And he's witty, and clever, and sometimes when ghastly wakes up first he stays very quiet so he can watch skug sleep, the way the dawn turns his hair to burnished copper, the way his curls fall across his forehead and the patterns his freckles make on his skin. Skug is an affectionate, tactile drunk, and hopeless looks at ghastly with something like pity whenever skug rests his chin on ghastly's shoulder or leans his head on ghastly's knee or wants a piggyback back to where they tied the horse, and ghastly takes what little he can get and says nothing.

- they're coming home drunk in the pouring rain one night, later than usual, riding doubled up on ghastly's carthorse. ghastly is behind, loosely holding on around skug's waist, and the whole way home all he can think about is how close they are and how much he wants to lean in and put his mouth on skug's neck, and by halfway home he's reduced to silently begging his semi not to pop a full on hard-on until they're home, when skug will crash like always and ghastly can take care of himself in private

- when they get home, they're locked out, which is what they get for coming home well after ghastly's parents are asleep, but this isn't a one off and ghastly's mother always leaves blankets for them to sleep in the barn. so they put the horse away and give her a rub-down/groom together and skug's shirt is practically see-through and his hair is plastered to his skull and ghastly can't take his eyes off the visible jut of collarbone where the neck of skug's shirt is undone and skug makes a couple jokes about it when their eyes meet, how ghastly has been brushing the same bit of horse for as long as it's taken skug to do half his side, but then the third time he laughs and teases, "if i didn't know better, bespoke, I'd say you wanted me" and ghastly will forever blame the alcohol but he doesn't even think about it? It comes out before he can stop himself, before he has time to remember what it could do to their friendship

- he says, "what if i did?"

- skug goes quiet for a minute, and it's a tense sort of quiet, not the thick, cloying tension that comes before a storm or an argument but the light, vibrating tension that comes with standing on a cliff's edge or drawing a bowstring, and then he ducks under the horse's head to come around to ghastly's side. He's still a little shorter than ghastly, still has to look up ever so slightly to meet his eyes.

- skug says, "do you?" like it's still half a joke, and there's a chance to back out right there, to laugh and deny it and let this become an amusing footnote at the bottom of their friendship, but ghastly ignores it. "yes."

- skug shrugs, his lip quirking, and says, "so have me."

- ghastly learns a lot that night. he also accidentally blurts "i love you" when he comes, but nobody's perfect and he's...relatively...sure skug was too distracted to have been paying attention, so he'll count that as a massive win

- morning finds them in the hayloft, tangled up in the blankets left out for them, regretting their choice of tavern beverages and, in ghastly's case, sporting a classic case of morning wood. He's kind of hoping he'll get lucky again with sleepy morning sex but skug is disgustingly hungover and just wants to burrow his head into ghastly's chest to block out the light and go back to sleep so like, out of luck.

- when skug has slept off the booze a bit more, Ghastly awkwardly broaches the question of "just how drunk were you" and they establish that they both remember fucking, neither of them regrets it, and the attraction is apparently mutual? Which is a mindfuck for self-conscious teenage ghastly, because, like, why tho

- they both get to do the walk of shame into the house when ghastly's parents wake up. Ghastly's shirt hides the nail marks skug left on his back nicely; sadly, the same cannot be said for the giant hickey he left on skug's throat, and he is eternally grateful to his parents for not bringing it up (he'll allow his mother her raised eyebrows. She did it quietly)

- they just sort of? happen, after that. There's no conversation about what they are to one another, so there are several crossed wires and feelings get hurt, but they always move past it. They both have phases of going off with someone else - but they keep ending up back together regardless of how much they argue.

[youarejesting]

Hope in the Sheets.4

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers,

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things. What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: Reference to a previous sexual encounter, pregnancy, Toxic Family.

You were sitting at the bar drinking your fourth glass of orange juice, the sweet citrus flavour was really hitting the spot. Laying your head onto the polished shiny wood you could see the dance floor lit completely. Jimin swept the floor and mopped it diligently, of course they cleaned up thoroughly when they closed the bar but Jimin prefers to clean again. 

You felt a fondness blooming in your chest watching Jimin dancing around with the mop in hand. Yoongi was setting up and testing each speaker individually and testing out his equipment.

There were two hours left before the bar opened and Seokjin began ordering some food, Jimin got a text as he was putting the mop and now empty bucket away. Yoongi leaned over to read it —That guy had no shame— “Hoseok is on his way over”

“Really?” You asked a little nervous to see Hoseok so soon, you hadn’t even figured things out, you weren’t ready to see him. 

“You sound surprised but we have pizza night every second friday” Namjoon smiled exiting the staff room, smelling clean and fresh his hair combed back. 

A part of you happy for the oncoming pizza boxes heading your way. Seokjin began by placing a container in front of you, you opened it excited. A large part of you hoping it was some fried chicken, only to see plainly seasoned roast chicken and vegetables. 

Seokjin had already started acting protective, reading the pamphlets and telling you, you can’t have barbeque, raw fish, deli meats or soft cheese. So you were enviable of their pepperoni cheese heaven.

“We haven’t had pizza night since before the renovations behind the bar, did you see the difference compare to last month when you had come in?” Namjoon added unmoving as Jimin gracefully spun around him heading towards the door unlocking it for Hoseok to come in when he arrived. 

“I don’t really remember much about that night and what I do know I have tried to repress” You couldn’t help but pout looking at the plate of beans, you could eat most veggies but beans were the worst. You pushed the plate away and Seokjin pushed it back and you looked up with puppy dog eyes and he shook his head.

“He could not have been that bad,” Yoongi said, missing the exchange between the two of you, especially the way you were making rude gestures to the manager. “I have danced with Hoseok, he knows how to grind.”

“What’s all this?” Namjoon said, sitting at the table and looking over the pamphlets Seokjin was reading. “Who is pregnant?”

“I didn’t want to tell you?” Seokjin looked at Namjoon his lips pursed the way they do when he tries to keep a straight face, “but I am pregnant”

“Haha, guys can’t get pregnant” A small voice chuckled and you saw a familiar face. He was freshly showered and looking well dressed in black boots pants and button up. 

“Oh everyone this is Jeon Jungkook, Seokjin and I hired him to help with the door and any rough housing” He gave a nervous smile, looking around. He opened his mouth to talk when the front door opened. Jungkook turned squaring his shoulders only to be deflated by Jimin carrying drinks “Jungkook sit down this is Hoseok”

You smiled pulling out your seat to the left and gesturing for Jungkook to sit. Hoseok faltered whilst removing his jacket for a moment, questioning why you had let Jungkook sit on your left. Genuinely sorry, you gave him an apologetic look. He laughed and walked across to the bar where he pulled out a pair of your spare shoes from his bag and placed them in the staff room. You found out last time that he was the one leaving your shoes at the bar but to actually see him do it was really sweet.

“Do you work here as well Noona?” The apprentice bouncer asked pulling your attention away from your neighbor and best friend.

“No, I just stop by every Friday for pizza night” 

“But you're not eating pizza?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I will trade you some beans for a slice” you grinned and he nodded picking up a slice and turning to you and freezing “um… maybe not”

“No, you need to eat healthier,” Seokjin argued. 

“But they are disgusting!” You whined letting your head fall back. 

“Eat them or no ice cream” He stood up heading behind the bar for a tub of ice cream that was used for special cocktails. 

“ice cream?” You almost gave yourself whiplash with how fast your head lifted. 

“Eat the beans and you get ice cream!” He said sternly and Hoseok moved around the table and stole a bean. “And no help from Hoseok” huffing and putting them in your mouth grumbling as you chewed. 

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” He said

“I hate it, the texture is wrong, it’s not food”

“But you did it, so what ice cream would you like?”

“Cookie dough?”

“Can’t have raw egg, I got chocolate, vanilla and strawberry”

“We have coffee too…” Jimin’s voice died out with the glare Seokjin gave. 

“This house is a prison” you frowned, throwing a stray bean at Seokjin and he laughed handing you a bowl of chocolate ice cream. 

“Hey are we partying tonight?” Hoseok asked around a mouth full or pizza, how could he be so damn handsome even when he is doing the weirdest things. “Ah but you haven’t gotten changed from your work uniform”

“No, I am just having dinner and heading home, tonight” you sighed “doctors orders”

“Oh well I guess, we can go out another night or something” he said being polite and waiting for you to talk about your doctor's appointment, Hoseok never pried with things like this. Jungkook was a charming young man and Yoongi asked for a dance. 

It was Yoongi’s version of bonding, he held your waist and gently moved to the music and you laid your head on his chest. “You okay?” He asked the gravel in his voice was almost purr like and woke you from your daze. 

“Just tired” the words mumbled as you hugged his torso, his heart beating a steady rhythm. 

“You are thinking too much, no more thinking tonight, just go home and get some rest and think some more tomorrow” pulling away he looked you in the eyes taking your face in his hands he kissed your forehead. “I will support you and your body no matter the decision”

“Thanks Yoongi, I decided I’m not going to get the prescription. I think a part of me already loves them way too much” touching your lower belly, allowing yourself to be a little excited, if only for the moment. 

You were worried and you should be. This was a big deal, but something about the support the boys gave you made it almost exciting. You began to day dream about a baby just like Hobi running around your apartment and cringed, taking the child to school on the bus before going to work. 

Blanching at the thought, you needed to put the baby first and your life right now wasn’t good enough to support a family. It was time to stop thinking single and start thinking like a mother. 

Maybe Yoongi was right, it was time to stop thinking, get through the night and plan everything tomorrow. With you in tow Yoongi led you back to the other, he placed your hand in Hoseoks and told him to take you home. 

Hoseok nodded getting your coats and thanking them all for dinner, he reassured Jungkook he was in good hands and told him to relax. Hoseok helped you dutifully into your coat looking longingly at the bar you frowned feeling bad for him. 

He took your hand in his warm one and walked you to the door opening it for you like a gentleman. He noticed how miserable you seemed and took your hand racing down the sidewalk until he arrived at a small convenience store. 

“Wait here.” He turned to you and paused looking you over with a smile “you look really pretty today”

You visibly reddened a considerable amount enough so that Hoseok noticed grinning and ran into the shop. Watching his head pop up over the aisles as he ran back and forth, you had no clue what he was looking for but clearly he did as he raced back and forth not once appearing lost.

He emerged with a biodegradable bag filled with an assortment of midnight snacks. He opened the bag letting you peek inside. “I got all your favourites, we can go home and watch some late night telly or one of your favourite movies” 

Your mood skyrocketed. Grasping his hand, swinging it enthusiastically on the way home. Hoseok stepped between you and a group of men smoking and drinking on a bench. He gave them a curt but polite ‘good evening’ and continued guiding you along. 

The two of you made it to the door seeing the door had been pried open. “Again, I hate this stupid appartment, let’s hope they got bored before they reached our apartments.”

They got to their doors and thankfully noticed that they were not broken into. “We need to add a few more locks on the doors.”

“Or you know move” You laughed

“Come on the rent is almost nonexistent and the pizza shop is in sight, what else do two bachelors need in their lives.” He laughed flopping onto your couch and grinning at you upside down.

You placed the snacks into a bowl and placed it on the coffee table as Hoseok began flipping through the channels. “Knocked up is on you wanna watch that?”

The scene that happened to play was at the restaurant where Katherine Heigl announces she is pregnant and the father makes a witty clueless remark.

“No thank you,” Your tone was clipped and he thankfully changed the channel.

“Yeah it’s a bit overplayed. What about Juno, it just started?” He shrugged

“Nah,” You said, sitting beside Hoseok laying against him and closing your eyes to push back tears you were overwhelmed.

“Animation numbness?” He asked, turning on your Disney plus you laid there without opening your eyes “anything?’

“Yes” He put on his favourite ‘Peter Pan’ and pulled you up to lay against his chest sensing you were not quite alright. He sang cutely in your ear along to ‘We’re following the leader’ with the children on the television.

You got to the part where Wendy sings ‘You’re mother and mine’ before the tears started to fall. Hoseok noticed the way your chest shook against his and sat up. “Hey Little Darling, tell me what is wrong.”

“Everything.” You sniffed burying your face into his chest and he patted your head threading his hand through your hair soothing the raging emotions.

“Tell me little darling,” He whispered softly, trying to calm you and give the support you need. “Is it about the doctors, are you sick, is something wrong?”

“No nothing, it’s fine,” The finality in your voice made him go quiet, of course he was upset but he respected your decision and just held you. “I think... I might go to bed.”

The abruptness of your decision made him sit up, “Are you sure, I can stay and I won’t pry”

“I really should sleep, this is something I have to figure out by myself and then I can talk to you okay,” You said standing and he nodded standing grabbing his coat and heading to the door. Before you could shut the door he turned pulling you into a hug. 

“I am here for you okay, don’t try to do it on your own, not when I am here and willing to help you, okay” he looked at you grabbing your shoulder and making sure your eyes would meet his before he continued “I will be by your side no matter what, trust me okay. I love you sleep well”

You would be lying if that I love you didn’t hit a little different, you nodded “Thank you Hoseok let me process and then we can talk okay.” Shutting and locking the door you began taking a few deep breaths. There was undeniable comfort from Hoseok’s words and it made you believe everything was okay. 

Taking out your phone with shaky hands you searched for a name you hadn’t contacted in a long time, even their name in your phone was mocking you. You clicked ‘Mum’ followed by the small phone icon before placing the phone to your ear.

Your hands trembling, you didn’t know what to do. You heard your mother answer with her familiar underlying snobbish greeting. 

“Good evening?”

“Hey Mum,” You caught yourself before your voice cracked, never giving your mother the satisfaction, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, what do you need?” Her voice clipped and you bit your lip trying not to fight, this wasn’t why you were calling. You journeyed into the bathroom feeling a little sick, your mother always brought your anxiety back ten fold.

“Nothing, I was just wanting to tell you…” You squared your shoulders and stared at yourself in the mirror. It was a challenge, you were telling yourself to be a proverbial man. “I am pregnant.”

“Of course you are, you wasted your college degree by becoming a carny and now you are pregnant. I was waiting for you to stuff your life up more. And what now you need money, to help get rid of the thing, come home and we will take care of it. Maybe this will be a reminder to keep your legs shut”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, I am an adult don’t ever contact me again, because I sure as hell am never going to” You hung up placing your phone down and the sickness faded like a weight off your shoulders your mother was not a part of the equation.

Walking to the kitchen you sat on the breakfast bar stool and pulled out a book and began writing out a plan. There were things you needed to do. Of course telling Hoseok was important but you were planning without him. Because if he rejected you and this baby well then you were on your own.

It was always best to plan for the worst case scenario. A better house; the baby cannot live in a broken down high theft studio apartment. A drivers license; you definitely couldn’t take the child to school on the bus everyday before going to work and as for work you needed a serious job. You paused; these were the first important things.

Opening your laptop you began looking at houses and loans, saving tabs and looking at a driving school, there was no time to party. Texting Seokjin ideas he told you he would help you with some of the lessons and you were grateful that he would help you.

[Jimin: Hey, I thought...] [Jimin: And feel free to stop me but...] [Y/n: Spit it out Jiminie] [Jimin: I might have a better job for you, I just thought that the theme park would be too physical and at somepoint you won’t be able to lift and such.] [Y/n: Oh wow, I hadn’t thought about the lifting and standing business but I did think I would need more money and a real job, what do you have in mind?] [Jimin: You are qualified for it and it is a desk job, that pays well.]

You kind of felt good about everything, Jimin gave you an application for the desk job and depending on what you heard back you would have to give your two weeks notice at the theme park.

[Jin: As tomorrow is Saturday, How about your first driving lesson?] [Y/n: I mean sure, I have booked in to see the Realestate and I have filled out papers for a home loan, I can’t live here, it isn’t safe for a child.] [Jin: I will be there in the morning and I will drop off some healthy meals...] [Jin: I am slaving away in this kitchen so you better eat them.] [Jin: We don’t want the little one getting hungry, okay?] [Y/n: Okay, I get it. We will drive and look at houses tomorrow don’t be late] [Jin: I am never late.]

Seokjin was really getting into his role as fake father. But it made you feel like you had some sort of support behind you and that made you happy. You were exhausted laying on your single bed and decided not to dwell on things any more that evening. 

The next morning Seokjin knocked on your door, upon opening he looked at you with horrified eyes, “Your front door has been smashed in, why do you still live here?” He huffed placing bags on the bench, “you better understand that I love you, look at all these dinners I prepared”

“Thank you Jin, for everything, I really can’t thank you enough right now” You hugged him and he held you a little longer than normal perhaps waiting for you to break down.

“Are you ready to go?” Seokjin said, opening the front door to reveal Hoseok standing there looking absolutely confused.

“Go where?” His voice croaked a little evidence of his recent rising.

“We are looking at houses” You said nonchalantly, “Do you want to come?”

“Sure let me get dressed,” He ran back inside and Seokjin looked at you cautiously and you nodded. The three of you got into the car and Seokjin began instructing you to drive and you were doing pretty well even Hoseok who is scared of almost everything was calm.

You all spent the day looking and discussing houses and your price range and the possibility of a home loan, Hoseok just listened. He seemed amazed by the length you were going to, just to get a home or at least that’s what it felt like.

You looked at different houses and you knew which one you could afford but you couldn’t help but dream about one of the more expensive ones that they had accidentally showed you. Even Seokjin and Hoseok saw you smile when you looked at the places.

The last house you looked at was overrun with grass weeds and trees, garbage in the yard, a broken window and everything needed fixing but it was the cheapest.

The neighbourhood wasn’t bad, but the plumbing was, there was no electricity either which meant you had a lot of work cut out for you. Nothing could compare to your dream house, it had french doors to a back porch and a large backyard with a neat garden.

After inspecting each property you went back to the real estate office and stood outside in the fresh breeze while the agent made a few calls about your loan flexibility. Seokjin went to get coffee from the Cafe just down the road and to enter the real estate office when Hoseok grabbed your arm gently and blushed apologetically, “Hey can we talk just really quick?”

“Sure Hobi,” Your eyes scanned his sheepish form and he opened his mouth but quickly shut it, “What is it?”

“Is it about the break in, I can totally understand if it is, We can find a new place together, something nicer, and with more space in a better neighbourhood.” He looked flustered he wanted to express so much he was fumbling over his words, “Just I don’t want it to be cause of something else, I don’t want it to be about me, or something I have done”

“Hoseok, I have something to tell you,” Your heart was beating out of your chest, “I got some news from the doctor and well I have to get my life in order because this is serious Hoseok”

“Oh god!” He clutched you in his arms, “Don’t say you are dying, please anything but that, I can’t live without you”

“No Hobi, I am pregnant, I have to get my life in order, I can’t raise a baby in a broken studio eating tinned food, I need a proper job and house and…” He pulled back to look at you in a mix of shock and relief “I am scared, and alone”

“You are pregnant, like really pregnant?”

“Yes, and I am pretty much disowned too, so I have no help from home and have I said I was scared because I am shaking” You sniffed tears falling and he held you

"I will be there for you" He smiled, “We can get a house together and raise a baby. Wait. Who did this?” 

“I got you a smoothie cause you can’t have Coffee” Seokjin smiled handing a coffee to Hoseok and a smoothie for you. You saw Hoseok’s eyes slid to Seokjin and flick back to yours.

“Him?”

It looked like Hoseok was about to punch him when the Agent stepped out and guided us back into the office, I spoke with the bank and they said you are only eligible for the broken down bomb site of a home.

But amongst the deadly glares of Hoseok and the disappointment on Seokin’s face at the bank’s refusal to lend any more he went to speak. “What about if I add a Ten thousand dollar deposit?”

“No, No deposit I will take it. I have some time to fix it and I intend to.”

“You can’t live there, it is creepy.” Hoseok said

“I can and I will, I have to make a safe environment for a baby Hobi, I can’t sit around in our apartment and wait for someone to stab me in my sleep, I have fate in my hands and I am taking it” You walked into the realtors office and signed the forms, the house was now yours.

You sighed stepping out of the realtors and Seokjin said, “the boys and I will help you clean up”

“I can get some of the guys from work” Hoseok said, appearing more like he was trying to outdo Seokjin, instead of genuinely helping. Either way you were thankful for their help.

The clean up was going to be a huge task and you needed all the help you could get.

Tags: @brbkpop​​​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​​​ @munchyn​​​ @unadulteratedlyunique​​​ @jinhitwhore​​​  @knjkitten​​

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[luisjuanmilton]

have u ever thought about writing something, that includes a crash? Like Seb crashing his Car because it's shitty or someone else or he himself made a mistake and it looks really bad for a second but it turns out to be fine? Sebchal or Sewis 👁️👄👁️

Not me making this be 2k words... I am so sorry anon I got very carried away 🤍

Sebastian Vettel/Charles Leclerc

(tw for description of a crash that results in a concussion, but rest assured it’s not very graphic and everyone’s perfectly okay in the end)

Sebastian thought that every driver had a sixth sense about crashes.

It was like an instinct, something that warned you about what was going to happen seconds before it actually did.

Which was why, as he took a corner and went a little too wide, the car just barely clipping the border of the track, he knew to instantly let go of the steering wheel.

Something had to be amiss with the car, because there was no way it should have reacted that violently to such a tiny error, but before he knew it the car was upside down.

His Ferrari rolled around for what seemed like hours but realistically had to have been only seconds, only coming to an abrupt stop when it collided against the barriers with a sickening thud, the force of the impact making Sebastian’s head slam against the side of his seat before everything went black for a moment.

When Seb came back around he could hear a shrill ringing noise in his ears, and he felt a little dizzy both from the crash itself and because he was still hanging upside down.

It took him a couple of minutes to actually become aware of what was happening, and he blinked slowly as he tried to get rid of the black spots that were dancing in front of his vision.

“Sebastian? Sebastian, please respond”

And Sebastian really tried to do that, but his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. His mind was thankfully clearer, until he was conscious enough to take account of all his body parts and confirm to himself that he was alright.

His head did hurt like a motherfucker, but all things considered he thought that it could have been a lot worse. He really wasn’t looking forward to having to see any bright lights in the foreseeable future though.

“Sebastian”

Oh right, the team were probably expecting an answer.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the only thing he could get out was a pitiful groan. Alright, so maybe his concussion was a little worse than he thought.

“Sebastian, can you confirm you’re alright?”

And well wasn’t it a surprise to hear Mattia’s voice. He even sounded worried, which could have fooled Sebastian.

Okay, that was a little mean.

And he was now talking to himself inside his head. Great.

Right before he was going to try to give a verbal answer once more, he felt his vision go even darker than it already was, and he somehow managed to turn his head to the right to find who he assumed was a marshal kneeling next to the car.

“Mr. Vettel, can you move?”

It probably took Sebastian longer than it should’ve to answer, but after thinking it through he decided that he could at least try.

“Mr. Vettel?”

Oh right, words.

“Y-Yeah” he finally managed to get out, even if his voice sounded like a croaky mess to his ears.

The marshal looked visibly relieved after hearing it though, and Sebastian for the first time wondered exactly how bad the crash looked from the outside.

After being asked if he was bleeding (to which he answered “I don’t think so”), the man instructed him to unclasp his seatbelts, and he couldn’t help the startled yelp that left his mouth after he did that and fell headfirst into the awaiting arms of the marshal.

He was pulled out from under the car in a very unceremonious way, but even after being freed from the metal contraption he found that he was way too tired to move without some sort of assistance, so he allowed himself to be manhandled by the unknown man.

“Do you think you can stand up?”

Sebastian grumbled, if he was being perfectly honest, what he really wanted to do was lay in the floor and take a nap.

The marshal chuckled “I don’t think that’ll be possible right now sir”

Had he said that out loud?

“Yes”

Oh.

“We better get you checked for a concussion as soon as possible” the marshal replied, sounding both worried and a little amused by the entire situation.

Sebastian hummed in agreement, and before he knew it, he was being lifted in the marshal’s arms, the man doing it with an ease that made it seemed like he weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

The man was careful not to move his head too much as he placed him on an awaiting stretcher, and Seb let out a happy sigh at the feeling of the cushion below him. Now he could finally take that nap.

“Please try not to fall asleep Mr. Vettel”

Or not.

A couple of paramedics lifted the stretcher and placed him inside the ambulance, and only then did they carefully remove Sebastian’s helmet, making him wince as he was suddenly faced with the incredibly bright white lights of the vehicle.

The doctor asked him a couple of questions that only took him a little more effort than usual to answer, like what date it was, how much was seven times nine, when he had won his first championship and which country they were currently in.

He thought he had passed the test with flying colors, but the doctor still insisted on driving him to the nearest hospital and conducting a proper examination.

And he still wasn’t allowed to take his nap.

All the fancy tests did was confirm that he was in fact alright, and with every minute that passed he felt the concussion-induced ditziness fading away.

The return to his usual mental state coincided with the small tv screen that was hanging on the corner of his hospital room playing images from his accident, and he felt dread rising in his chest as he saw just how bad the wreckage looked from an outsider’s point of view.

He even felt worried when he saw his limp body getting pulled out from the cockpit, and he obviously knew that he was alright.

“Ah, fuck” he cursed, hoping with all his might that someone had announced that he was perfectly alright by now.

Although if the footage being replayed over and over again without any sign of an update of his condition was anything to go by, he seriously doubted it.

Someone really had to do something about F1’s tendency to show such traumatizing images to their stupidly large audience.

With that thought in mind he shut the tv off, and without the noise coming from it he thought he could hear a very familiar voice screaming down the hall.

“Do I look like I give a shit about not being his family?! You will let me through at once! Mais bon sang pour qui vois prenez-vous?”

Sebastian had to stifle a laugh. Oh, he knew who that voice belonged to alright.

“Sir please calm down –“

“Do not tell me to calm down! Tell me where I can find Sebastian!”

The voices kept growing louder, and Seb sat up straighter in his bed so he could look out of the room’s windows that showed the hospital’s corridors.

“I can’t give you that information sir, I don’t even know how you got past security –“

“Ta gueule! Just tell me where he is!”

As amusing as it was to hear him curse out hospital staff in french, Sebastian thought it was in everybody’s best interests to put a stop to his rampage.

“Charles, I’m over here”

The noise instantly died out at the sound of his voice, and it was replaced by thundering footsteps as Charles followed after it and finally stopped in front of his room’s open door.

And as soon as Sebastian laid eyes on him, any trace of amusement he had felt instantly fizzled out.

“Sebastian?” Charles choked out, his usually confident voice sounding incredibly small as he clearly tried to fight back tears.

The German felt his heart clench at how red and puffy his usually bright green eyes looked, and if all those tell-tale signs of crying weren’t enough, there were also dried tear tracks running down his face.

“Hey Charlie” Sebastian smiled softly, but any reassurance he thought that might have had was quickly discarded as Charles’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“I thought you were dead” the younger man gasped, crossing the room with two long strides and all but launching himself on top of Sebastian.

He instinctively brought his arms around Charles’s shoulders, holding him close to his chest as his shoulders heaved with sobs.

“Whoa, hey it’s okay, I’m okay” Sebastian soothed, tracing circles over his back in what he hoped was a calming motion.

“You took so long to answer, and no one was telling me anything” Charles hiccuped, face still firmly buried on Seb’s chest “a-and, and then I saw the footage and when they pulled you out of the car – merde, Seb. I thought I had lost you too”

And well, Sebastian truly thought the despair that tinted Charles’s voice was more painful than any crash could ever be. He would genuinely give away all he owned just to never hear him sound so broken again.

“But you didn’t love, you didn’t lose me” he murmured, gently moving Charles away from him so that he could actually look at his face.

Sebastian carefully brought a hand up to cradle Charles’s face, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that were still falling in a steady stream.

“I only got a concussion, I’m so sorry for making you worry”

Charles sniffled, the pitiful sound making him look even younger than he was “I-I just thought, I thought I’d never get to see you again”

“I’m right here sweetheart, I might be a little old, but you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon”

The snort he got out of Charles was enough to make a large smile appear on his face, happy to see some of the sparkle back in those eyes he loved so much.

“I’m holding you to that promise old man”

“And I intend to keep it”

With that, Sebastian leaned upwards to close the small distance that was left between them, pressing his lips against Charles in a soft kiss.

Charles’s lips tasted a little salty because of his tears, but Sebastian didn’t care in the slightest, content enough to lazily move their mouths together and feel the way the Monegasque melted into his arms as he effectively distracted him from what had happened.

His boyfriend always seemed as eager to kiss him as he had the first time, and Sebastian would be lying if he said he didn’t feel all warm and fuzzy inside to know that he was so loved and so desired by him.

Charles looked entirely more content as they separated, pressing another kiss to Seb’s cheek before making himself comfortable next to him on the bed and letting his head fall back to rest on top of his chest, Sebastian immediately starting to run his fingers through his soft black hair.

It was a position they had become incredibly familiar with during the past two years, but now it was even more comforting than it usually was for Charles, because he could actually hear Seb’s beating heart below his ear.

“How did you even get here so fast?” Sebastian asked after they had laid in comfortable silence for a while, the throbbing in his head reduced to a tiny pang by now.

“Ah, yes. Uhhh, I might have sneaked away as everyone else parked the cars and bribed a security man to take me here”

Sebastian was rendered speechless by his boyfriend’s admission, before he broke out into a fit of giggles that made his entire chest rumble with the sound, Charles eventually finding it impossible not to join in.

“You sneaky little gremlin” Seb said in between his chuckles, which only grew louder when the Monegasque turned to look at him with a smirk and a very self-satisfied look in his face.

“I did learn from the best”

“That you did”

The two fell silent again after that, and it didn’t take long at all before they drifted off to sleep, the events of the day being entirely too much for them to handle.

And that was how a gaggle of worried drivers found them hours later, with Lewis just barely being able to stop the younger men (and Daniel) from storming into the room and waking up the couple.

The Brit smiled fondly at the sight of Charles carefully snuggled up against Sebastian’s side, a protective arm firmly planted across the older man’s waist. They were both wearing content looks on their faces, and not for the first time he felt incredibly glad that they had found each other.

“Okay boys, we can come back later. It’s better if we let them sleep it off”

Lewis carefully closed the door to the room as he herded the others away, but not before taking at least fifty pictures of the happy couple that would certainly come in handy as blackmail material some other time.    

[therainroguefanfiction]

⁂ In WAR✘ and LOVE ♥ (Tomura Shigaraki) Everything You Hate

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Slice of Life

Word Count: 3,292

Pairing: Reader x Shigaraki

World: Boku no Hero Academia

Prompt: “I love everything you hate about yourself.”

☂ R a i n d r o p from [@kyokosasagawa​] ➧➧ “Opps, sorry, didn’t notice that it had to be an open prompt! In that case can I request Shigaraki/Reader with “I love everything you hate about yourself”?”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

You glanced at Shigaraki as he sat at the bar in his black hoodie, fake hand covering his face. Since you had first met him, he seemed to have retreated farther into his shell, despite your attempts to break through his insecurities. Honestly, you wondered if your efforts only made things worse, but you genuinely cared about him and only wanted to help him love himself.

Somewhere along the way, you had fallen in love with the league’s leader, even though you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t. This only fueled you more, though, but he wasn’t having it. He always waved off your attempts and, as of last week, he now took to avoiding you if possible, speaking to you only when he had to and with a clipped tone.

You wondered if you had stepped over the line, but it felt inappropriate to ask him that, especially since he was never alone. He made sure he was never alone with you and when you asked if you could speak to him in private, he flat out told you no, which only got the other members of the league interested in why you needed to speak to the leader and why you couldn’t say it in front of them.

Today was your chance, though.

All of the members were out of the hideout, some on missions and others just screwing around, and you wanted to use this chance while you had it, but Kurogiri was still there, standing behind the bar and polishing the glasses as he did everyday. All you had to do was find some excuse to get rid of him.

‘Sounds easy enough,’ you smiled as you approached the bar, taking a seat a couple stools down from your leader. “Ne, Kuro-chan. When are you planning to go shopping again? Dabi ate all of my cocoa puffs.”

Kurogiri sighed as he set the glass on the counter, sending you a scolding look. “I told you two to stop fighting over the cereal.”

“He had the option to choose a cereal and he chose not to get one, that’s his fault.” You huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “But as soon as you returned home with them, he was more than happy to eat ours! He also ate Toga’s cinnamon toast crunch but she didn’t really care. When they were gone, she just ate Spinner’s lucky charms.”

For a moment, Kurogiri just stared at you as if waiting for you to tell him it was a joke, but your expression did not change. “If you wish, I will go and get some more later this afternoon.”

You chewed on your lip in frustration, glancing at the powder blue-haired male. His head was lowered, fingers resting against the glass of alcohol that he hadn’t even touched. His shoulders were slumped and you could see the deep frown set on his lips. He looked miserable.

Shaking your head, you turned back to the older male. “Would it be possible to go now? If Dabi finds out you got more, I won’t stand a chance. Pretty please~?”

He chuckled, putting his hand on his hip. “If you insist, but you must clean up the kitchen in my absence.”

Your eye twitched as you pictured the kitchen, pretty much destroyed after Toga tried to make pancakes based on a YouTube tutorial and Compress was supposed to be watching her, but he wasn’t and, well… the kitchen reflects that. “Uh… sure thing. It’ll be spotless!” ‘In like five years, maybe…’

Kurogiri opened a warp gate before pausing, his golden eyes shifting to the leader before back to you, lowering his voice. “Leave Shigaraki alone, Y/N.” And then he stepped through the gate, disappearing.

‘Sorry, Kuro-chan, but I just can’t do that.’ Taking a breath, you stood up and headed behind the bar to stand in front of Shigaraki. “Your drink is watery. Do you want me to get you a new one, boss?”

His shoulders visibly tensed at the sound of your voice so close to him, his fingers twitching around the glass. “No.”

You frowned, folding your arms on the bar top as you tried to see his face behind the hand. “Can I do anything for you?”

“Kurogiri gave you an order,” he muttered, turning his head away from you as he bit the inside of his cheek. Why did you keep trying to talk to him even though he clearly didn’t want to talk to you? It made no sense to him and he hated it. He hated how you looked at him, without an ounce of disgust within those beautiful eyes. You talked to him willingly, always kind and respectful to him. Always giving him a beautiful smile.

But that’s what you were to him – beautiful. You were like the sun, lighting up his bleak world whether he wanted you to or not. Always looking after him, making sure he was eating properly and not scratching himself too much. You also looked after the other league members, of course, but you always seemed to pay extra attention to him and his needs. It was like you knew when he was feeling stressed or upset, when he needed to be picked up or left alone.

Was he really such an open book to you? He didn’t like the way you made him feel, how vulnerable he was around you. It would be so much easier if you were just disgusted by his appearance, if you hated him for the monster that he was. And he truly believed that he was a monster in many different ways.

Shigaraki felt ugly, inside and out, his skin broken and cracked, like the dried ground in the desert. When he got overwhelmed, he scratched at his skin until it was raw and bloody. He believed that he was too skinny, his ribs standing out against his pale skin. He knew that he was emotionally inept, unable to offer what a normal human being could. He didn’t know how to act toward you and often found himself snapping at you, only to feel like a total ass afterward.

There wasn’t a single thing he could say that he liked about himself, but the list of things he hated was endless. But you didn’t share these sentiments. When you looked at Shigaraki, you saw his flaws, of course, but you found them to be beautiful. His flaws are what made him who he is, after all. Yes, he was full of flaws, but so were you, even if he didn’t believe so.

“I promise I’m going to get it done to his specifications, but I wanted to check on you first.” You smiled at him, but it was a bit sad. “Say… can I ask you something, boss?”

“What?”

“Am I… bothering you?” You wondered softly, using your nail to scratch at the black spot on the wooden bar top. “I don’t mean to, I just… I worry about you, you know? I want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself to the best of your ability but I also don’t want to overstep or upset you.”

His lips parted, a shaky breath escaping him at your words. You worry about him? Why did that make his heart start to race within his chest? Why did he always experience this strange feeling whenever you were around? He hated it. “I don’t need your worry, just go do what you were told to do.”

You winced at his harsh tone, bowing your head. “Yes, sir. I apologize.” And then you scurried into away from him toward the kitchen, heaving a heavy sigh as you went. You had definitely overstepped and upset him, but how in the world would you fix it? Apologizing seemed to be the only thing you were capable of doing.

With your mood already dampened, you were unable to hold back the groan that bubbled up within your throat when you stepped through the door into the kitchen. Batter was slung everywhere, sticking to the walls and the ceiling like discolored slugs. It was burnt over the stove, blueberries mushed on the counter and fuzzy with the beginnings of mold. Glass was broken in the corner under the small round table, reflecting the dull yellow light above.

The sink was overflowing with dirty, crusty dishes and one of the chairs was missing its leg, which you found stuffed in the fridge behind the cartoon of lumpy milk. You didn’t even know where to begin and you were fairly certain that there was a rat lurking somewhere, its little squeaks breaking you from your thoughts at intermittent intervals.

After a small internal debate, you decided to start on the dishes, pulling them from the sink and onto the counter so you’d have room to wash them properly. With the small amount of soap available, you doubted you would be able to get through all of them before the soap ran out, so you sent a quick message to Kurogiri letting him know that you would need more.

As you got to work, you hummed a soft tune that you had learned by watching an anime called My Otome, a beautiful song known by the chosen three. Unbeknownst to you, Shigaraki had followed you to the kitchen, hiding in the shadows beyond the doorway, his red eyes trained on you, following your every movement.

There was so much he wanted to say to you, but he was unable to form the words and even if he were able to, he knew he would be unable to speak them aloud. He could could watch you from the shadows as he had since the day he met you, wishing that you could be his but knowing that someone so dark could never have someone so bright.

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You stifled a yawn as you stepped into the bar, your body sore and tired after a week-long mission. You were thankful to be back home and you couldn’t wait to crawl under your blanket and get some much needed sleep.

“It’s about damn time you got back,” Dabi drawled, turning his icy blue eyes to you when you entered. He was lounging on the dirty old sofa, his boots crossed on the coffee table.

You quirked a brow, offering him a smile. “Aw, did you miss me, Dabs?”

“Hell no,” he smirked. “But handy man clearly did.”

“Eh?”

“He locked himself in his room as soon as you left and hasn’t come out since.”

“He’s been in there a week?” You frowned, turning toward Kurogiri, whose golden eyes met yours. “Has he eaten anything?”

“I’m afraid not,” the villain responded with a shake of his head. “He has refused to eat.”

“Will you make him something? I’ll see if I can’t get him to eat it.” Rather than waiting for a response, you headed toward his bedroom with your heart hammering in your chest. There was no light coming from underneath his door and, when you pressed your ear to the door, there was no sound coming from within. Your knuckles rapped on the wood to get his attention. “Boss? I’ve returned from my mission… if you’ll let me in, I can give you my report on what happened.”

Silence.

Your fingers wrapped around the doorknob, attempting to turn it, but it was locked. You rapped your knuckles on the door again, raising your voice. “Boss, please open the door.” You caught movement from the end of the hall and you noticed Kurogiri approaching with a plate of food. “You have to eat something. I have some food for you.”

Without a word, Kurogiri handed you the plate before slipping away silently.

“Boss~ Please?” You rested your forehead against the wood for a moment, hearing shuffling behind the door. Finally, you sighed and pulled away, turning away from the door, but you only made it a few steps before you heard the clicking of the lock, the door creaking as it opened enough for you to see him.

Shigaraki was paler than normal, dark bags beneath his tired eyes. His stomach was growling loudly, making him wince as his eyes fell on the plate of food, the smell wafting to his nose.

You offered him a warm smile, unable to keep the worry from your eyes as you handed him the plate. “Here, Kurogiri just made it. Can I get you anything?”

He said nothing as he took the plate from your hands, turning on his heel to go farther into the dark room, leaving the door open. You hesitated, wondering if it would be okay to follow him inside, but since he hadn’t closed the door, you assumed that he was okay with it. Stepping inside, you squinted against the darkness, closing the door behind you.

He flopped onto the small red couch, the springs squeaking under his weight as he did so. The small TV across from him was casting a soft white light onto him, making it seem like he was glowing in the darkness. He didn’t even look your way as you cautiously approached him, settling down onto the couch.

“Would it… be okay if I give you my report?” You wondered softly, glancing at the TV screen, where the pause screen of a fighting game sat, waiting for him to return to it. He nodded, keeping his eyes on the food, and you proceeded to tell him about your recon mission and the information that you had obtained.

Though he heard you speaking, the words didn’t really register with him. He was just happy that you were back home, safe and sound. He was happy that he could be near you again, hear your voice and feel the heat of your body. He felt so much lighter with you back at his side, as if you were meant to be there.

“…it almost got hairy, but I was able to stop him in the end. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the files that we were looking for, but we did find a new lead. I sent it to Kurogiri and he has Spinner out tracking it down now.”

He realized that you were looking at him expectantly, waiting for his reaction or orders, but he hadn’t heard a word that you had uttered to him, too focused on his own jumbled thoughts and feelings.

You frowned at his silence, reaching your hand out, only to hesitate. You knew he didn’t like being touched, but you needed him to know that you were there for him. With a sense of determination that might see you killed, you rested your hand over his, making his body tense up and freeze in place. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but… I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve been locked in this room for a week and not eating,” you scowled. “That’s super unhealthy and -”

“Why?” He repeated, lips tugged downward as his red eyes met yours, clouded with confusion and annoyance and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Why do you care?”

“Because I -” you clamped your lips shut, feeling your cheeks heat up as you realized that you had almost confessed. Not only would he not accept your feelings, you figured he would be pretty upset at the confession, mostly because he wouldn’t know how to properly handle it. “You mean a lot to me, boss. I’d hate for anything to happen to you!”

Despite himself, he felt heat rush to his cheeks and he quickly moved his head so you couldn’t see, not that you could in the low light anyway.

You could feel his hand shaking beneath yours and you tightened your grip, sliding your hand into his but he jerked away, nearly jumping off of the couch. The plate clattered to the ground but didn’t break, thankfully.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” He growled, eyes wide and wild.

You winced at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry, boss.”

“Shut up!” He cried, his body shaking. “Who the hell do you think you are? Coming into my life and making me feel like this. Caring about me, looking after me. Do you pity me? Feel sorry for me? Tell me why!”

“It’s not like that at all!” You jumped up, meeting his gaze. “I don’t pity you, boss, I respect you! After everything you’ve been through, you keep moving forward. You have a goal and you chase that goal without stopping. Sure, you have setbacks and you sure, you get deterred sometimes, but you always get back on track. I care because I… I’m in love with you, Tomura.”

His brow furrowed, eyes shaking with disbelief and pain as he turned his gaze to the ground. “Love me? Don’t play with me! As if anyone could ever love me. As if someone like you could ever love me…” His hands shook as they reached for his neck, nails digging into his skin.

“Stop that,” you scolded, grabbing his hands and forcing them away.

“Don’t touch me, idiot! You know I can’t…” He pictured using his power on you by accident, watching the life leave your eyes as you crumbled before him and that made his heart squeeze tightly, painfully within his chest. If he hurt you, he would never be able to forgive himself.

“I trust you,” you stated calmly, resting your hands over his. “It’s okay if you don’t believe me, but I’m in love with you and I will tell you every single day until you do believe me. It’s okay if you don’t return my feelings, I never expected you to, but I will still be here by your side, taking care of you and watching over you.”

Shigaraki clamped down hard on his bottom lip as tears stung at his eyes, lowering his head so you wouldn’t be able to see. What was this warmth blooming in his chest? He hated it, but… he also didn’t want it to stop.

You smiled warmly, taking his face between your hands, using your thumbs to brush away his tears. “Look at me.”

He shook his head, trying to control the tears streaming down his cheeks, but he couldn’t seem to make them stop.

“Tomura.”

His eyes widened, snapping to yours. While he couldn’t identify the emotions lingering within your eyes, he could feel the warmth you were radiating and even if he didn’t fully believe them, he knew that you were being honest, genuine. You meant every single word you said to him.

Shigaraki did not deserve you. He wasn’t good enough for you, wasn’t good enough for the light and warmth you provided. That’s what he told himself, tried to convince himself, but…

“Tomura Shigaraki, I love everything you hate about yourself.”

He wasn’t sure what came over him, but he threw himself into your arms, nuzzling his face into your neck, his tears soaking into your shirt. You threaded your fingers through his matted hair, using your other hand to rub circles into his back. Your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered to him, telling him that everything would be okay. His hands clutched at your shirt as he tried to get a hold of his emotions, to understand them.

It would take a while before he could do so, but you would be there, patiently waiting for him to sort out his feelings and you would never stop loving him. And he would never stop craving your warmth and touch. Even if he never figured it out, as long as you were by his side, that’s all he cared about.

Tomura Shigaraki would literally destroy the world for you, and you’d do the same.

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📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[snezfics-n-shit]

Whumptober Day 4: Headache

Fandom: Ace Attorney (noticing a pattern?)

Characters: Mia Fey, Diego Armando

Notes: Hey hey new ship coming through beep beep, Miego during their brief relationship in 2013, stifling, allergic!Diego, fluff as always, PUPPIES, Grossberg Law Offices: Hamster Division, “tippy-tapped” as a verb

“Slow down, kitten. There’s no fire.” Diego struggled to keep a grip on Mia’s hand as she led him to Fey Manor. “You aunt doesn’t really expect us to be here no later than three hours before dinner, does she?”

“You’d be surprised. Besides, I want to show you something.”

A genuine French Press, Diego was sure. Mia promised there would be a working coffee machine the next time he visited the manor, so it had to be that. The visible amount of offense Diego displayed after that visit when Mia suggested they stop at a Starbucks of all places surely left an impression. His heart should surely recover from such a betrayal when he would see the shiny new appliance that would introduce the population of Kurain Village to coffee made the correct way.

Upon entering Fey Manor, it was now Diego’s turn to rush. The kitchen was his first stop, which met him with only disappointment when he saw there was in fact not a French Press waiting for him. 

“Where’s the coffee maker?” He rubbed his nose absentmindedly. “Wasn’t that what you wanted to show me?” He kept looking around for wherever it might be hiding, sniffling once or twice as he did so.

“What?” Mia chuckled. “We don’t have one yet. Sorry to disappoint.” She kissed his cheek from behind him. “What I wanted to show you is kind of time limited, so I couldn’t wait until we got that coffee maker you keep sending us catalog clippings of. You really need to stop doing that, by the way, or Aunt Morgan is going to be pissed.”

“Hey. If you want something, you need to be assertive about it, kitten. It’s called-” Diego’s breath hitched; a swift hand managed to pinch his nose just as he reflexively leaned forward. “Ihgxt! Hngxt!” He freed his nose from his grip and sniffed. “‘Scuse me.”

“Don’t do that. You’ll give yourself a headache.” Mia scolded.

“Once you attend a midnight mass with a bad cold, that habit sticks with you. It’s not like I’ll be sneezing any more than just those two.” Diego jinxed himself. “HGGXT!” He exhaled, immediately followed by another oncoming sneeze. “K’CHgxt!”

“Cut that out. This is my old house, not a church. And here the rule is you stop stifling like that before you hurt yourself.”

“You can’t just make up rules like that on the spot.” Diego protested, rubbing his nose more consciously this time. “This elevation here sure is- HGKXT!! It’s sure doing a number on me. As overwhelming as GK’xnt!... guh, the scent of freshly ground coffee.” His head was starting to hurt, as Mia predicted, but old habits die hard, headache or not.

“It’s never bothered you before.” Mia sighed in concern and pressed a hand to his forehead. “You don’t feel warm, but it could still be the start of a cold.” 

As much as Diego had no objections to be nursed to health by his beloved kitten, he genuinely felt fine up until he entered her home. Maybe he was allergic to her Aunt Morgan likely staring daggers into him from the other room as the two spoke. 

“I’m fine, really.” The itch in his face slowly made its way to his eyes. He alternated between rubbing circles on his eyelids and using his wrist to fight off the remaining irritation refusing to leave his nose. His assurance was hardly convincing, as far as he could tell from Mia’s frown of disbelief.

“Come on, let’s find you a place to rest.” Mia led him to the living area with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I have just the thing to make you feel better.”

She said that, but she had already confirmed there was no means of making coffee in the village, so Diego had his doubts. What could make him feel better if it wasn’t coffee? It was only fair, he supposed, since Mia clearly had her own doubts regarding his health. 

Just as Mia sat him down on the living area’s couch, she stood up with the intention to leave the room.

“You’re leaving me? Here? All alone in my time of need?” In the middle of Diego’s jest, the itch and tickling within his face grew stronger than it was just a minute ago. “E’EKXT! KCHXT!” Not only was his head throbbing, but his eyes began to join in the same heartbeat rhythm. “That’s bitter, too much even for me.”

“Hold on.” Mia peeked out the doorway, making a few whistles and patting her knees, as if she were calling for a dog. A dog… 

A dog.

Diego had a silent, one-sided agreement with all furry animals to keep as much distance as possible. Mia wasn’t aware of that, of course, but it wasn’t like he was hiding it from her; his allergies just never came up in conversation. Before they started dating, they mostly talked exclusively about work, and then the conversations moved to the Terry Fawles case and romantic sweet nothings on the side. Diego would have been more than willing to fill her in on this detail if, for example, she wasn’t out sick during the three days Grossberg Law Offices was home to the ‘office hamsters’ brought in by an intern who wanted to introduce the concept of Hamster Law this past May. Since his symptoms cleared up well before he arrived at her apartment with flowers and other gifts, that conversation never started, and at that point he had no reason to mind that.

A tiny pomeranian tippy-tapped his way into the room with Mia at his side guiding him. 

“This here is Pom Pom. He belongs to one of the mediums in town and we’re-” Mia finally had a chance to get a good look at her boyfriend’s face. “You look horrible. I just turned around for a minute.”

“Yeah. It’s like that.” Diego nonchalantly explained with a shrug before he needed his hand for another parade of stifles. “H’GKXT! I’CHXNT! G’GKXNNT! He doesn’t sleep on the furniture here, does he?” 

“He does.” Mia held a hand up to her face, just under her mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re allergic to dogs.”

“Then I won’t.” Accompanying his red eyes and dripping nose, his teasing grin just looked more pathetic than charming. 

“Real funny.” Unamused, Mia attempted to lead Diego off the couch. “Let’s get you home. I’ll tell Aunt Morgan we’re leaving early.”

“Not yet, kitten.” He sniffed in a more pronounced fashion in an attempt to fish for a little extra sympathy. “I got a headache.”

“I told you so.”

[writingthingsisdifficult]

I found you

What happens when you find out that you’re Loki’s soulmate?

In my head everyone’s alive.  Warning for cursing. Also for me not having English as my first language. First time writing Loki too. Or anything Marvel, really. 

Hope you like it. Let me know if you do :)

Word count: 8789

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I should have known better than to venture into the archives that today; my premonitions have been acting up for days. But I ignored the signs, and now I keep staring at this photo, ears ringing with shock. I would have missed it if I hadn’t stopped to admire his sharp features – it’s not secret I think he’s attractive. Hell, even the guys in the compound think that.

If this is true, I’m in so much trouble… but there really is no mistaking it. The mark on his wrist – partially obscured by a trailing sleeve and only visible because he’s banging on the glass – is clearly the twin to my own. Not to mention the painful longing in my chest whenever I look at his face or hear his voice on the interrogation tapes. I haven’t met him in person yet, and I doubt I ever will. He is a known terrorist who has tried to kill and or enslave humanity after all, even though they say he’s reformed and isn’t in the business anymore. At least that’s what Thor says, but he always believes the best of his brother.

No one knows where Loki is at the moment. Not even Thor can find him – not that that means much; Loki’s had a lifetime learning to hide from him.

I didn’t think much of it at first. The pull in my consciousness and the black pinprick in my chest were weak enough that I just thought I was exhausted. Constant threats to the planet you live on will do that to you. But as the time passed I only got worse, so I arranged a little visit to the lab where both Tony and Bruce ran a bunch of tests I don’t even know the name of – under supervision of Dr Cho and Stephen Strange. Such an odd collection of geniuses. It’s a wonder they didn’t kill each other.

It was Helen who first realised my condition was soulmate-related after Tony suggested PTSD and anxiety as a half-joke. Everything clicked in place then. But I mean, I was embarrassed as hell. Couldn’t look any them in the eyes for a week after… I’m a grown woman; I should be in control of my own destiny. But Fury made me swallow my pride when he had an assignment for us all, and when we got home Natasha and Tony apparently made it their mission to help me out.

Tony wrote a little algorithm to scan for my soul mark, and Nat pestered me continually for information. But they found nothing. It’s not so strange, really, since my apparent soulmate is a master of disguises – he’s probably out there having the time of his life as a boa constrictor or something. Man, the stories Thor tells when he’s in the mood. CRAY-ZEE!

So how did I find out I’m knee deep in shit thicker than a southern accent? Well, I was looking through a couple of old files, trying to find a pattern to a new phenomenon we’d just discovered when I came across screenshots from the surveillance tapes from Hamburg and there it was. His mischievous grin and the blurry lines on his wrist… If I didn’t already get tested, I’d run to the infirmary so fast I’d probably trip over my own feet and smash my head on a sharp edge or something.

My heart is beating unnaturally fast, and every time I focus in on his face, it skips a couple of beats. And it that isn’t enough: my mark itches and tickles whenever I’m thinking about him, which is basically continuously. I’m feeling both ill and exhilarated at the same time, I hope I don’t throw up. The archivists will kill me if I ruin their precious system.

As the truth sinks in, I’m flailing for a solution, even though I know there’s nothing I can do about it. You can’t just un-soulmate someone, and I definitely can’t ignore it now that I’ve found out. People go crazy for less. But I can’t stay here. Thor might find it amusing, and Bucky might not judge me – much, but the others? Imagining the looks on their faces makes me dizzy. They will be disgusted. No, I can’t stay. I have to leave. Fuck.

In a flash, I’m on my feet, power-walking through the halls to my room. Once I’m in the elevator I can’t stand still, tapping my feet and my fingers. Thousand thoughts ram my brain all at once, and I don’t know how to shut them off. I’m lucky most of the others are on a mission right now. I don’t know what I’d do if I met any of them in the hallways.

I slam the door behind me, grab the nearest backpack and start throwing random shit in it. My brain is working overtime, and I can’t seem to focus, but at least I’m awake enough to stop myself from stealing a car and flee straight away.

I hoist the backpack up, securing the clips over my chest and hips. I thinkI’ve gotten everything, and I’m about to leave when there is a soft knock on my door. Crap. Not now. I try to calm myself down before I open the door a tiny bit so whoever’s outside can’t see the mess in my room.

“Oh. Hey, Wanda.”

“Hey, Y/N. You okay? I heard you slam the door.” She looks genuinely concerned, and for a second I’m worried she’ll try to enter my mind, but she has sworn she will never do that again, so I push that thought away.

“Uh, yeah,” I reply a little too quickly. Forcing a smile onto my face, I shrug and tell the first lie that pops into my head. “I, uh, just really had to pee, so I lost my grip on the door handle, you know. Didn’t mean to slam it like that.” Wow. That was almost believable.

Wanda nods, but I can see the suspicion lingering in her eyes. “Alright. You will tell me if you’re upset, right?”

This time it’s me who nod. I feel guilt stabbing my chest, but I can’t tell her. Not now. She won’t take my news well. “Of course,” I add. In my own ears it sounds false, but she seems satisfied, and returns to her own room.

This is a complication. She will be on the lookout now. I can’t sneak past her. So, what are my alternatives? If I leave my things behind I could probably crawl through the vents, but I don’t like cramped spaces and besides, I’ll probably run into Clint somewhere in there. The hallway is out of the question. I sigh. Guess I finally have to face my fear of heights. My room is only on the fourth floor, and there’s fire stairs going all the way down, but it’s still higher than I would like.

I tip-toe to the balcony, opening the door as quietly as I can. It’s silly of me. No one’s really expecting me to sneak out, and it’s not forbidden to use the balcony at all. But I’d rather they not knowing I’m gone before I’m far away.

Swallowing my fear, I carefully reach my foot down onto the top step. Suddenly I jerk back, and I swivel around, ready to tell Wanda to let me go, but it’s only my backpack caught on the railing.

Letting out a shaky breath, I continue, one step at the time, careful to keep to the shadows and out of sight from the other windows. The rest of the descent is without further problems, but I’m still relieved when I’m finally on solid ground again. From here it’s a short run to the garage, and then… gonna have to steal a car after all, but knowing Fury they’re probably full of tracking devices. I’ll have to ditch it somewhere along the way.

_______________________________________________________________________

There is a bright flash, and it keeps playing before my eyes. My head is swimming and I stumble around, flailing and trying to find something – anything – to grab onto. If only the world would stop spinning!

One hand grazes my forehead, and it’s almost painful enough to stop me in my tracks, but not quite. It feels like I’m on fire, but my brain is polite enough to tell me, through short and incoherent sentences, that this is to be expected when one is being hurled into the sun.

It’s getting darker. Each flash grows dimmer, and my shoulder bumps something hard. It’s flat, and it’s not moving, so I dare open my eyes for half a second. A fuzzy hallway comes into view. The light is fading fast now, and my legs make their own decisions, taking me all over the place before steering me with full force forward. There’s a loud crash and a thin creaking that sounds so far away. Someone is muttering, maybe it’s me, I don’t know, and then everything grows dark.

_______________________________________________________________________

The goddamn ELEPHANT in the hallway is making so much noise it’s difficult to concentrate on the book. Even magically sealing the flat doesn’t help much, so with a deep sigh and flickering flames in his eyes, Loki carefully sets it aside and moves silently to the door. He flicks the flap covering the spy hole away and peers through. There’s nothing there, but he senses a presence of sorts.

The hairs on the back of his neck rise. Have they finally found him? There’s no time to flee, and Frigga’s voice whispers in his ear, to fight, to go down with honour, to allow himself an end fitting of a Prince of Asgard.

It only takes a couple of seconds to decide, but when the door rattles with force, his resolve strengthens. He yanks it open, knives in hand, echoes to the side, ready to fight, when a body collapses into him. He stumbles back, supporting the woman as he does, making the door slam shut.

He lifts her gently into his arms, not sure where this sudden concern comes from. She’s a total stranger, but somehow he’s overcome with the need that she should be safe. He’s not sure he likes it.

_______________________________________________________________________

Something cold is pressed against my forehead, and it lessens the dull thump a little bit. I lean up and into it, but it pushes back.

“Shh, don’t move.”

I try again, and this time a hand pushes down on my chest, holding me in place.

“You really shouldn’t move; that’s quite the bump on your head you’ve got there.”

My body jerks suddenly. I still feel like I’m submerged in flames.

“You’re shaking!” The owner of the voice feels my face again. “Hel! You’re burning up! What…” There’s a short pause. “Ah. This is what you mortals call a fever. I was starting to worry. But a fever we can work with. Lie still, please.”

What feels like an ice-blanket descends over me, and I drift off with the silky smooth voice swirling in my mind.

_______________________________________________________________________

The pressure in my ears lets up a bit, and it feels easier to breathe. The coolness on my face feels so lovely and I lean into it with a content sigh.

The surface moves and I frown in my half-sleep, but it soon returns, caressing my cheek and neck. And as my consciousness returns in full, I open my eyes. The light is too bright at first; I can’t see anything, but then a face swims into focus. Initially I can only see the dark hair falling in waves over broad shoulders, but then… keen, watchful eyes, sharp lines, and a mouth bearing a mischievous smile.

“Loki?” It feels like the world shifts under me.

“I will not hurt you.”

Of course he doesn’t know who I am, so naturally he tries to look both calm and harmless. He can’t have a panicked person running around in his home, or worse: outside. It’s not difficult for me to believe his promise.

He helps me sit up, and though it’s thrilling to feel his hands on me, I’m too dazed to do anything other than give him a faint smile. The movement makes me queasy, so when he lets go, I grab an armrest for support. “Thank you,” I offer weakly.

“You’re welcome.” It looks as though he wants to say more, but apparently he changes his mind. After a long silence, he asks: “How are you feeling? Looks like you had a run in with a rhinoceros. While I quite like the beasts, I don’t think mortals would fare well from an encounter.”

“I’m okay, I guess. A bit bruised, but nothing is broken. At least I think so.” I move my legs tentatively. No problem there. My right arm is fine too, but when I try to lift my left arm, pain shoots white sparks from my shoulder. I hiss loudly.

He moves to examine me, but something makes me flinch. I’m not ready yet. He holds his arms up and back away.

“Sorry,” I whisper, looking down at my shoes. “It’s not your fault.” This is silly. I shouldn’t be afraid of him touching me.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he offers with a smile. “You may know who I am by name, but we are still strangers. Will you allow me to tend to the bruises and cuts on your face?”

I nod, steeling myself for the pain, but his touch is light and nimble, his skin cool. I find myself leaning into his hand.

“You crashed through my door,” he begins. “Bloody and beaten, half dead by the look of it. What did this to you? Who…” He cuts himself off, and he looks properly confused; he definitely did not expect to be this invested. A few seconds tick by, just enough for Loki to regain his composure, but his fists keep clenching and unclenching.

His voice is much calmer when he asks again. “What happened? I need to know so I can figure out how to deal with these…” He gestures to my bruises, but there’s a tremble there, like the emotions are just kept in check. But if it’s sorrow or rage or something completely different I can’t say.

I think for a bit, trying to picture the minutes before I woke up on Loki’s sofa. It’s just a big blur. There was someone there, I was struggling to free myself from a pair of arms pinning behind my back, but it’s all in shadow really. But I do remember fumbling for something to defend myself with. There was a… “The portal,” I blurt out, and Loki looks even more confused. “I… I must have pushed a button or something before I… stumbled. Fell. Whatever. I think it dissipated once it was used, though.”

Loki gets up in a hurry, knocking a chair to the floor with a lout clatter, and all but sprints out the door, except he doesn’t sprint, he powerwalks, and I surprise myself by finding it endearing.

Moments later he returns, a relieved smile on his face. “You were right. The portal is gone, and there is very little residue. I tried to open it again, but its source seems spent – permanently closed,” he adds to the benefit of my confusion.

“There are several types of portals. Some acts like doors that has to be summoned to fulfil certain demands, others…” his voice is eager, and I would love to learn more about the magical properties of portals, but I feel pretty tired. In fact, I am, and I can’t hide the grimace when a particularly sharp pain shoots through my shoulder.

In a second he’s next to me, supporting my weight and pressing his cold hand to my forehead. “Maybe it would be better if you lay down again.”

I shake my head. “I’m good. Just need to, to relax. Please, continue.”

“I wonder,” Loki says with a pensive look, then falls silent.

“What?”

“How you found me. This place is warded. No one is supposed to find me here, let alone stumble over me accidentally.”

Oh, I can think of a reason, but I don’t voice my theory, it’s too early and Loki hasn’t really shown any definite signs that he’s happy I’m here. Instead I say: “Like in Harry Potter?”

He looks at me, an amused smile lurking in the corner of his mouth. “Something like that. My point is: you should not have been able to find me at all. Even my oaf of a brother –“

“Hey!” I just can’t let him talk ill of Thor. “Your brother is a sweet man. He always made me laugh, and he was really upset when you disappeared. You know, he’s out looking for you every day. So yeah, he’s kinda like a big, bouncy sheepdog but he’s not stupid.”

Loki looks a bit taken back, like he wants to ask me if it’s true, but I know he’s a master of appearance, and my heart aches for him. From what I’ve read in his files and from the stories Thor told us, I understand why he’s so closed off.

“Never mind,” he says after a while. He looks me up and down as if he just noticed me sitting there.  It’s clear he’s not unaffected by my presence, but he plays it cool. At least he’s not threatening to throw me out. Yet. “I expect you wish to clean up? And then perhaps you would join me for supper? I had planned to dine in silence, but since you are injured, you might as well join me.”

My stomach flips, and then his first question registers. My face burns. He can probably smell me from where he’s standing, too. “So much for a good impression,” I mutter as I hurry after him.

“This way.” He leads me through the bedroom to a large, decadent bathroom. I stare in disbelief. How has he managed to find a place with such space and luxury here, but then it hits me: magic. It probably wasn’t like this when he first moved in.

“Towels are in the cupboard to the left. There’s soap and, uh, shampoo in the shower.” His voice draws me out of my reverie, and I nod. “Right,” he continues. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Once the door clicks shut behind him, I waste no time shedding my dirty clothes on layer at a time. The socks all but flies off. My plaid shirt as well, but it hurts more with every movement and when the time comes to pull the t-shirt over my head, a lightning shoots from my shoulder, blinding me momentarily.

I stumble and crash into the wall, knocking things off the shelf and making a general mess of things. The pain has me reduced to a whimpering heap on the floor.

The door opens and the cold air sends shivers through me. Loki’s hands are gentle as he lifts me back on my feet, and I swallow my embarrassment as he helps me pull the shirt off.

Reaching for my arm to examine my shoulder, he stops mid-movement when he notices my mark. His eyes flick from it to my face and back again, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. I think he’s gonna say something, when suddenly he whirls around, rushing out the door, leaving me both shocked, confused, and more than a tiny bit hurt.

Thinking about it, I don’t blame him. I’ve had four years to come to terms with it. Up until a few moments ago he had no clue what we are.

I remove the rest of my clothes slowly, careful to not rip open any cuts. Loki could probably heal them with his magic or some Asgardian ointment, but I really don’t want to push him right now. For fucks sake, we only met a few hours ago.

The water pressure is perfect, and after a couple of minor adjustments, so is the temperature. Why does he keep the water so freezing? Oh. Right. I feel like a moron now. This is going to take some getting used to. I mean… he’s not even human. Wait, is he? Like a different species of human? I was so preoccupied with finding him that I never stopped to think about that. My mind fills with new questions I never thought of before as I work the shampoo into my hair.

Will he get sick like an ordinary human? Can I spread disease to him? Influenza? The cold? Or maybe he is immune. Probably, but I don’t know. I doubt anyone really knows. Jeez, I should go buy a notebook and write these things down so I can ask him later. If there is any later. What if he doesn’t want me the way I want him. What if… are we even compatible? I mean, I don’t even know for sure how his body works.

With all these what-ifs swimming around my head, I step out of the shower and reach for a towel. It’s so soft I stand still for almost a minute just pressing my face into it, stroking the towel like I’m a lunatic. Eventually, though, I dry off and wrap another towel around my hair. It takes me a couple of seconds to realise that my torn and dirty clothes are gone, replaced by a pair of black sweatpants and a dark shirt with green stripes.

Smiling to myself, I get dressed, savouring the feel of soft materials and the discreet smell of the fabric softener. This is exactly how I imagined his clothes would smell, and I’ve thought about it a lot.

The shower did wonders for my sore muscles and injuries. It takes almost no effort at all to comb through my hair, and looking in the mirror I deem myself almost presentable now.

When I emerge from the bathroom my stomach is churning; meeting Loki for the second time, trying to make a better impression – while wearing his clothes… It’s ridiculous! This whole situation is insane!

I find him in the living room. He’s standing with his back to the door, but I’m pretty sure he knows every movement I make. Deciding we have all the time in the world, I take a couple of moments to look around.

There’s bookshelves on all four walls, absolutely laden with books. Some look really old, too. A teacup rests on a low table in front of a grey sofa, a half eaten biscuit on the saucer. In one corner, under an old-fashioned reading lamp, sits a well-used leather recliner. A book is lying face down on the seat.

The light from the window falls on a huge, dark green kentia, and despite the unease in my chest, I feel a smile tug on my lips. Loki definitely isn’t as cold and heartless as some of the reports I’ve read said.

I approach him like you would an injured animal. He’s standing by the window, arms crossed over his chest. It looks like he’s spying on the neighbours, but I’m not even sure he’s looking at anything at all.

“Loki?” I try to keep my voice neutral, but I can’t hide the hint of insecurity and fear that leaks through. Hope he doesn’t misunderstand.

It takes a few breaths before he reacts. His shoulders move up and down, up and down. And then he turns. Slowly and on the spot. There’s a gleam in his eyes I’ve never seen before.

I take another step, but stop when it looks like he’s gonna bolt. Here we stand, watching each other, wondering… my heart feels heavy. He doesn’t want me. Of course he doesn’t. He’s a… what is he, exactly? A demi-god? It’s of no consequence. He’s my soulmate, and the one thing I want more than anything in the world is to hold him close, and that’s just what I can’t do.

Second by excruciating second ticks by. He’s observing me, calculating. Suddenly, he slides up close. He takes my arm and holds my mark next to his. As they almost touch, they light up, like shining mother of pearl; greens and golds flicker over the skin in a sort of unchorepgraphed dance.

Loki looks up into my eyes. I can see a thousand questions forming. A spark, something new, before his face closes again, and he turns from me. It hits me then: he is just as confused and insecure as I am.  I reach out: touch his shoulder gingerly, hoping I haven’t read him wrong.

He slumps forward. “How…?” he whispers, probably more to himself than me. “I… I’m not… I’m a monster…” Trailing off, he tries to step away again.

“Loki,” I repeat, tightening the hold on his shoulder. “Look at me. Please.”

He does, and I feel our souls spinning around each other, weaving and melting together. I don’t know what to say next, but he must see something in my eyes, because he pulls me close and buries his face in my hair.

“I found you,” he whispers, sounding like he doesn’t believe it, like I’m gonna disappear if he stays silent. “I found you.”

“No,” I whisper back. “I found you.”

When he finally lets go, the vulnerable expression is gone again. Old habits, I guess. He looks at me for a long time, like he’s trying to decipher every secret I’ve ever had. Eventually he smiles, a big, genuine grin, and says: “I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, It’s Y/N,” I sputter, wishing I could be a bit more suave. But no. He’s gonna have to take my awkwardness too.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he says, and my face heats up again. How come I’m so easily flustered when he looks almost unfazed by this? He looks me up and down. “It must have been a rough day for you. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Very well. There is this wonderful restaurant just down the street. What do you say we place an order and get to know each other better?”

I swallow and nod, trying desperately to look like the woman destined to be by his side. But the way he speaks to me has my insides on fire. Maybe it’s the soulmate thing, or maybe it’s just been too long, but his every word feels silky smooth on my skin, and the pull in my chest shifts, sliding to my core. I swear I can hear myself sizzling.

_______________________________________________________________________

“We must find out what did this to you. Something happened, and if you could only remember –“

“Well, yeah, obviously something happened,” I reply, slurping my noodles and trying hard to suppress the eye roll that’s fighting its way to the surface. The ache in my body is making me impatient. “I didn’t do this to myself.”

Loki gives me sort of an annoyed smirk. He’s not used to being talked back to. “Obviously,” he mocks. “What isthe last thing you remember, then?”

I close my eyes and think back. It’s hard to concentrate when he’s so close to me, but I remind myself that I can’t continue to be awestruck by him. Doesn’t stop the weightlessness in my stomach, though.

Flashes of colour and movement and smells pop up in my mind, but nothing recognisable. I go further back, tracing my movements since I left the compound. For a moment I’m struck by how much I miss them all, but I also know I can’t go back. At least not yet.

A computer swims into view. The screen shows a picture of… My eyes snap open. “I was doing research,” I say so suddenly I startle him. Soda sloshes over the brim of his glass.

“On what?”

Yeah, that. I know I shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but saying it out loud is mortifying. “You.”

“Me?” The question comes out like a sharp chuckle.

Nodding, I grimace to try to hide my shame. “Mhm. You know, because of… of this situation.” I gesture to my soulmark then vaguely wave in the direction of his hand. “The… hm-hm… soulmate-thing.” It feels weird saying it out loud. Like I’m a sham.

“Right.” Loki absentmindedly closes his hand protectively over his wrist.

“I was, I was trying to find you.” Obviously. It’s harder to explain than I thought. What I want to say is: “I want to be with you – you have been in the back of my mind since I learned of your existence. You are my world.” But what I dosay is: “Figured it would be nice to, you know, meet you and… you know, get to know you, and all that.”

I feel like an idiot. Why can’t I be articulate and smart and a better match to Loki’s intellect? He must think I’m an imbecile.

“A logical thought,” he replies, but he doesn’t sound sarcastic. “Then what happened?”

“Um… I was knocked over the back of my head. I think. Someone… took me? I think I remember a car ride. It was bumpy. And loud.”

That seems to worry him. “Do you know who? Or why?”

Shaking my head hurts a little. “No. Sorry. Just… the button and tumbling through the portal.”

“That’s okay. We will no doubt uncover more pieces to the puzzle along the way.” He stuffs an entire dumpling into his mouth. “Ang ou gow by boher?”

I laugh out loud. “What?” This whole situation is absurd. What am I doing? Oh nothing, just having dinner with my soulmate who I just met, and he’s already talking with his mouth full of food. So domestic I’m tempted to check if I’m dreaming.

Swallowing, he picks up another dumpling, stopping before he puts it in his mouth. “And you know my brother.” It’s not a question any more.

My heart sinks. He’s not going to like my affiliations, but I can’t lie. Not now. “Mhm. All the Avengers, really. I’mkindaanavengermyself.” I leave it there, hovering like a mayfly over water.

The dumpling slips through his chopsticks. “Oh.” To his credit, he regains composure a hell of a lot faster than I would have done. “Then I apologise for trying to… subjugate you some years ago.” He says it with a wink, but there’s sincerity behind the joke.

“You’re forgiven. I think,” I joke back. “But I wasn’t on the team back then. I only joined a couple of years after the… incident. Someone told Fury of my powers.”

He tilts his head a bit, eyes bright. “And what are those?”

“Well, it’s not powers as such,” I say, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “But I have some precognitive abilities.”

Loki blinks and freezes with the chopstick halfway to his mouth. “You’re psychic?”

I shake my head fervently. “Oh no, not at all. I can just… sense… if something bad is going to happen. It is quite useful on missions; more of a heads up and keep on your toes kinda thing. But I never know whatis going to happen, it’s more of a gut feeling –“ I shut up. My stomach flips and I would write it off as the food, except for the slight change in the air. It’s too minute to put my finger on, but it’s there, and the feeling grows denser with every second. Shit!

“What is it?”

“It’s… I don’t know. Something is wrong. My estimate is three minutes by the feel of the surge in the air.”

_______________________________________________________________________

The window explodes, shards of glass scattering over the floor. The only reason I’m not impaled on them is Loki’s quick thinking. He shoved me under the table, sliding in after me, and he’s hunched over me, shielding me with his body. His armour clatters as it appears, covering him from head to toe.

Several people jump through the shattered window, crashing onto the kitchen floor. Some tiles crack from the impact. Black combat trousers over shiny, black boots surround the table, and my head spins. How… What do they want? I look up at Loki above me, and try to convey a heartfelt apology through my eyes alone. I brought them here. I should never have come.

Loki shakes his head slowly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. As his helmet grows, he moves with superhuman speed. The table flies through the room, taking at least three swat team members with it before it smashes into the wall.

“That’ll get Mrs. Davis in number four grumbling,” he says with a big grin. “Oh well, she’ll forgive me. She always does.”

Is he often attacked in his kitchen? I can’t do anything but roll my eyes as I straighten up and fall into a fighting stance. Even if this is an everyday occurrence for him, I’m going to do my best to protect him. All the hours in the compound gym are going to pay off now.

The madness is shining in his eyes as he flings a hand out; releasing a dagger that finds is target without trouble. His ease with killing is oddly comforting right now, and I am slightly shocked. But I don’t get many seconds to contemplate this new side of myself. One of the intruders descends on me, forcing me to take action. Grabbing the nearest thing I can get a hold of, I swing my fist around, slamming a decanter in his face. It’s probably worth a ton of money, but I doubt Loki minds, as the man shrieks in pain. A large shard sticks out from his cheek, just below his goggles. Hot, red blood is streaming down, staining both his jacket and my shirt, but I don’t feel sorry for him. I twist around, kicking him in the knee, sending him to the floor with a sickening crunch.

I risk a glance at Loki. He’s fighting like a cornered predator. Our attackers have some sort of shield or protection against his magic, and he has to resort to old-fashioned close combat. It’s a chilling sight.

The walls are creaking with each hit, plates and glasses and cutlery smash to the floor, creating an ear-splitting din that almost takes my vision away. That fraction of a second’s distraction is enough for one of the soldiers to grab my hair. Grunting, I try to twist around, but his grip is too strong, and with a flick of his hands and a soft kick to my shin, he forces me to the floor. A piece a glass cuts through my jeans and stabs my knee, and I whimper like a lost puppy, kicking myself internally for letting him get the upper hand.

The soft sound from me makes Loki stop what he’s doing. His dagger is stuck in his opponent’s kidney, but he loses his grip when he spots me on the floor. And just like that, the fight is over. Three soldiers clad in black camo advance on him, holding some sort of electric spears on him.

“Don’t,” I start, and is immediately shut off by a knife to my throat. Its sharp edge is balanced perfectly on my skin; stinging, but not drawing blood. I swallow hard.

A new man strolls into the kitchen from the living room, stepping unfazed over the bodies of his writhing and dead colleagues.

“Well, well… what have we here?” he asks, and I huff a scornful laugh at his so very villainous entrance. “Loki and his…” He looks at me. “…Unfortunate lady friend. You should have taken our advice. Instead you run straight to him. What were you hoping for, huh? Were you hoping to tame the savage?”

The man spits in Loki’s direction, but Loki doesn’t even flinch, though his face hardens ever so slightly. I doubt anyone but me notice. It’s kinda nice to see him strain to keep control of himself. I bite my lip to punish myself for thinking like that.

“Get out of my home!” His voice is icy and would send most men running. It’s a credit to these people’s training that they’re still standing and not sprinting down the road with their tails stuck between their legs.

The newcomer ignores Loki’s seething rage. “You will come with us, Master Silvertongue. Ah-ah,” he tuts, gesturing to my captor. He pushes the knife harder against my throat. The sting sends ticks to my eye, and I try hard not to swallow again. “Do as we tell you, or the girl will suffer.”

“Do as you wish, I care not.”

The man barks a laugh. “They call you the Liesmith. But you don’t fool me. We’ve already done our research.” He grabs my hand and twists my arm so that I almost fall forward. My eyes fly open. The fabric tears with a loud rrratch, exposing my soulmark. It’s still glowing faintly.

Loki’s eyes flicks from the man to me and back, and it’s good to see there’s still some fight left in his eyes, and his lips curl into that mischievous smile I’ve come to love. God, it’s really gone that far. My heart thumps loudly, and I feel my face prickle with the realisation that I won’t get the chance to fall in love with him slowly like a normal person. Trust me to go all in all at once.

The soldier keeps me pinned to the floor, grovelling like a commoner in court. Every time I move, pain from my knee shoots up my spine and erupts in bursts of colour over my eyes.

Forgotten memories flits in and out of my consciousness, and a voice rings in my ear, blocking out the incessant taunting and blathering. I don’t even flinch when one of Loki’s daggers imbeds itself in the cupboard with a loud thwack. You will be the one to bring us to him.

As the soldier behind me kicks me in the back, I can’t even groan in pain; the realisation hits me like a freight train, and I lift my head to look at Loki fighting for his life; for mine… This is all my fault!

For a brief moment our eyes lock together. I quickly look away so he doesn’t get distracted, but I know it’s too late. A loud groan and a thump make me look up again, and the sight sends chills down my spine.

Loki is kneeling, a mirror image of myself, and he is bleeding from his temple. Defeat and defiance glows in his eyes, and I know that he knows. His eyes soften and my insides turn. They shackle his hands and pull him backwards to the door, a lot less gently than necessary.

“I will find you again,” I croak. Something hard hits the back of my head, and the floor comes rushing upwards. The last thing on my mind before the void swallows me is “I promise.”

When I wake up, I wonder why my face is smushed against the floor and how much I drank to warrant this level of a hangover, but when I move to wipe the sleep from my eyes, my hand comes away bloody. My left eye is so swollen I can’t open it properly and everything hurts.

Hesitantly I feel my nose. Relief floods me when I find it not broken. But lying face down on the floor with my ass up in the air has left it bruised and sore.

“Fuck!” I don’t really have the words, but I curse the pain and the world and the people who took Loki from me even before we could get to know each other.

_______________________________________________________________________

I hesitate. Pick up the phone and dial the number, then hang up for the fifth time. It’s clear I need help, but the tiny voice in the back of my head keeps reminding me that they don’t like Loki. They reallydon’t like Loki. But they like me, even though I left abruptly four years ago and have barely spoken to any of them since.

Steve sends me updates from time to time, and every few weeks he shoots a message begging me to come home, but I just couldn’t. I feared the day they’d find out the truth. And that day… is propelling towards me at an alarming speed. Might as well get it over with. If I’m lucky they’ll help me before disowning me. Wait, is it really disowningwhen the family in question isn’t blood related? I slap myself out of the distraction. It doesn’t matter. The universe has already dealt my cards. It has been decided, and I may not like it, but there it is. I have to play the hand I’m given.

With a shaky thumb I dial the number again. The green button looks like a great big danger sign, but this time my resolve holds. The phone rings two times before someone answer.

“Y/N?” Steve’s voice is equal parts relieved and worried.

“Hiya, Cap,” I reply, feeling incredibly small. I try to keep my voice light, but it’s impossible to conceal my desperation. It’s been years since I’ve talked to him, and I’m so nervous I could puke.

There’s voices in the background, someone’s dragging a chair over the floor – probably Tony, I think before swallowing that hard lump in my throat. I’m really doing this. Now.

“Hang on,” Steve says and there’s a sharp beep. “You’re on speaker.”

“I’m impressed you know the right button,” a voice shoots, and I smile despite myself. I miss Natasha so much.

Steve scoffs and mutters something unintelligible. Multiple voices laughing. Great. The whole gang is there. My heart is beating so hard I can feel my sweater move.

“Y/N, you there?”

“I’m here,” I whisper shakily. “Fuck, I miss you guys so much!” There. It’s said. Whatever comes next at least they know it’s not their fault I left. Stupid universe.

“We miss you too, kid. Come home.” Tony sounds uncharacteristically vulnerable.

I shake my head as if they can see me. “I can’t, sorry. Not yet,” I add, even though I should say not ever.But that’s too much right now. I don’t even want to think about it, so I try to sound confident. “I need help.”

“Anything!”

They wouldn’t be so eager if they knew what I’m about to ask for. My eyes start burning, and I rub them hard. The prickly sensation is replaced by a dull ache and thousands of kaleidoscope stars.

“I might… might have to hold you to that. I…” I sigh. “I don’t know how to begin.”

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, before Nat interrupts.

“This has to do with why you ran away, right?”

Ran away.As if I’m a child running from strict parents. But she’s right, of course. She always seems to know what’s going on. There’s a pointed silence on the other side.

Clearing my throat, I study a bloodstain on the floor. It’s dark brown and almost perfectly round. It doesn’t feel real. Nothing feels real anymore. “Sort of, yeah,” I begin. My voice is hollow. How do you go about explaining to your family that you’re in love with – no, more than that: irrevocably tied to a guy who has tried to kill them on more than one occasion? Gently, or rip off the band-aid?

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes and bang the back of my head on the wall. “I found out who my soulmate is... It’s Loki.” I grimace, waiting for the inevitable outburst of disgust from the other side.

There’s silence, then a loud “Aww, shit.”

“Hey, Clint.”

“Hey, Y/N. When are you coming home? Ow!” There’s a soft thwack. Someone, probably Natasha, has hit the back of his head.

No one says anything for a while. The only sound heard is the rustling of paper, a scraping chair, and something that sounds suspiciously like a giggle.

I’m getting antsy. Someone needs to say something. “Um, guys?”

“Yeah, yeah, uh, we’re still here. Just… had to settle something.” Steve sounds smug. “So. What do you need?”

What? This is not the reaction I expected. “Uh… you still want to help me?” I wince from my own voice. It’s so small and terrified, and it makes me disgusted from myself.

“Still want to… what the hell? Y/N! I thought you knew us better than that. You’re family.”

“But…” I can’t bring myself to say it out loud, but my thoughts spring to the fight Steve and Tony had when we found out Bucky was still alive.

“We’ve grown since that,” Steve answers to my unspoken thoughts. “We’re older and wiser now.”

“Speak for yourself, Captain Senior Citizen,” Tony injects, making everyone laugh.

My head is spinning.

“What do you need?” a quiet voice repeats, and my heart aches. Of all the people on the team, Bucky is the one I miss the most. He’s like a brother, a twin, almost, and I miss the comfortable silences between us. My heart bleed with guilt that I didn’t think I could tell him.

My voice cracks from the fear and sorrow and homesickness. “They took him. They took him from me and I couldn’t stop them. I need to find him, I need…” My voice trails off, leaving me in a bottomless pit of terror and what-ifs.

“Of course,” Nat says, and I picture the glance she sends to Clint. She knows how I feel. “I’ll come pick you up. The jet is ready for take-off.”

Smiling sadly to the phone, I shake my head. “Thank you. But I’m… I’m not even sure where…”

“We know where you are,” Tony says.

“What?”

“This is Stark we’re talking about,” Steve explains with a tiny chuckle. “Did you really think we’d let you wander off without backup?”

I don’t know whether I should be offended or relieved, so I laugh with him. “But how come –“

“Figured you wanted to be left alone,” Clint says. “And since you don’t like climbing the vents, well… We always have your back.”

Three hours later Clint greets me happily as I step out of the elevator. I’ve missed his hugs and positive pessimism.

“Y/N! It’s good to see you again,” he says as he lets go, keeping a firm grip on the coffee pot he’s using as a mug.

“You too,” I sign with a grin, wincing slightly when the smile tugs on a cut under my lip. Nodding to the coffee pot, I add: “Good to see nothing has changed.”

He tries to sign a reply, but spills coffee all over his shirt. “Aww, my coffee…”

I can’t help but laugh. “You know, if you drank it like normal people you’d probably have a lot less stained shirts.”

He looks between me and his shirt. “Well, when you say it like that, I feel a little stupid.”

Bucky is leaning on the wall when I enter the kitchen. One leg bent and his arms crossed over his chest. If I didn’t know better, I’d be scared. But skilled as he is in… assassinating people, he’ll never hurt me or anyone else he considers his family. When he sees me, his face lights up, but as I come closer, he scowls.

“Who did this to you?” His voice is low and menacing, and he reaches out to touch my black eye. “Did he –“

I shake my head frantically. “Calm down, Bucky. Loki would never – they did this. The ones who… who…” My voice cracks, and I can’t finish the sentence.

Bucky pulls me into a warm hug, and the moment my face hits his chest I start bawling. Every fear, every bit of frustration, all the anger I’ve swallowed the last few hours comes flooding out. I’m powerless to stop it. “What if… they kill him?” I sob, sniffing hard and almost inhaling Bucky’s shirt.

He stiffens for a brief moment, then relaxes again. “They won’t,” he says, sounding so confident I almost believe him. “If they wanted him dead they would’ve killed him on sight. Trust me.”

_______________________________________________________________________

We’re all gathered in the briefing room. Wanda looks at me, seeking permission to do what I’ve already asked her to. I nod again, and her eyes start to glow. My mind is whisked away in a red whirlwind. Images and pieces of conversation float to the surface before dipping back down. It hurts to be restrained like this, but I’ll endure anything if it can help me bring Loki back.

When she lets go of me, I collapse, and I would have crashed to the floor if Steve hadn’t been there to catch me. He lowers me gently into a chair, and someone hands me a glass of water.

As Wanda describes what she saw – she’s considerate enough to leave out all the irrelevant stuff – the rest of the team gapes. I don’t hear it all, but I catch enough to understand that there’s a vigilante group that consists of former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and that they’ve been after Loki for years. Something about bringing him to justice.

“I’ve heard about these guys,” Clint says and everyone turns. He fakes bashfulness and toes the floor before continuing. “I hear things. When you’re up high people tend to forget you’re there.”

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Bruce mutters, and I nod to him.

Clint scratches the scab off a cut on his nose. “They’re supposed to be shut down. According to the guys in the administration, S.H.I.E.L.D. nipped it in the bud before they could even meet up for the first time.”

“Well, apparently not.”

“And now these men has my brother?” Thor booms. He’s eager to get out there and find Loki, and for that I’m grateful. At least I’m not completely on my own in this. It’s just that we don’t know what we’re dealing with. If they’ve gotten their hands on portal tech…

_______________________________________________________________________

“Stand back!” Nat attaches the explosives to the wall while Bucky and I take cover. Thor takes a step to the side.

Ten seconds later the corridor lights up in an impressive display of yellows and oranges. I have to close my eyes to not go blind. When the spectacle dies down there’s a big hole where the wall once was, three guards on the floor, covered in rubble, and a very dusty and very confused Loki standing in the middle of the room. In one hand he has a dripping dagger. The other dagger is imbedded in the back of one of the guards.

“Brother!” Thor bellows, bounding over the piles of concrete and steel. Apparently one of the guards is still alive, because he lets out a muffled yelp as Thor steps on his stomach.

“Hello, Thor,” Loki greets coldly. He acts annoyed, but we can all see he’s pleased to see him again. “Get off me!” he grumbles when Thor picks him up, swinging him around like a child, sending dust flying everywhere.

Loki’s eyes are fixed on me the whole time, so I do the first thing I can think of: I give him a little wave, feeling slightly like Scotty in Star Trek when he can’t do the Vulcan salute.

“My apologies,” Thor says, following Loki’s eyes. He shoves him in my direction. “That was selfish of me.”

I try to tell him that it’s okay. We’ve got all the time in the world now that we’re together again, but my voice is gone. Only Loki exists at the moment.

“Ahem.” Bucky clears his throat, bringing us both out of our reverie. “You do know that if you do know that if you break her heart all of the Avengers will rain fire and sulphur over you, right?” He gives Loki his signature death scowl.

Loki nods once. “I would expect nothing less.”

Nat grabs my hand to get my attention. “Um, guys? Clint says he’s ready with the quinjet. We better hurry. The place will be crawling with guards soon, as much as we all love fighting, we’ve got a schedule to keep.”

“Yes, Mom,” I tease, sticking out my tongue, but I’m ready to leave.

Climbing back over the fallen wall, we hurry through the long, winding corridors; Bucky and Natasha in front, and Thor making up the rear guard.

Suddenly cold fingers entwine with my own. Heart in my throat, I glance over to my right. Loki’s eyes are glittering, and he’s smiling from ear to ear. “Hello,” he says quietly, lifting my hand to his lips. The kiss is brief, and soft, and sets off sparks in my belly.

“Told you I’d come find you,” I reply, slightly out of breath. I’m not sure it’s because we’re running.

_______________________________________________________________________

Because you asked for it, I’m tagging you:

@river-alice-wolf @oatballsoffury @80percentmarvel @kybaeza @tardis-is-mine @darkforestbl0g and also @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte , because I tag you in all my stories.

[evakuality]

Episode five of this ongoing comparison.  The earlier episodes can be found here:

Episode one    Episode two    Episode three    Episode four

What we have here is the start of the pain.  This is where things start to go downhill for both of our boys, though in different ways.  Because we also have the start of the bigger diversions, or in this case more accurately the bigger shifts in clip placement, from the original in Druck.  Before we get to the pain, though, we of course have the post-kiss cuddling, making out all night scenes.  The actual cuddling etc goes mostly the same for both.  They’re both wrapped up in their partners, soft and warm and glowing.  The one really big difference is that while Isak has some teasing banter with Even they stay mostly wrapped up in each other, whereas Matteo and David are more physical in their teasing and banter.  There’s wrestling and pretend biting.  They’re more active and energetic together and this sums up a lot of the differences between Isak and Matteo as well.  Isak is far less physical with Even in these sorts of ways.  He’s far more likely to be quiet and calm together with him.  Whereas Matteo and David are much more physical in their way of being together.  They wrestle, kick, run, poke, play fake table tennis etc etc.  And in fact this is a cornerstone of the way Matteo interacts with others.  Later on we see him playing table tennis and a weird football game with the boys.  It really highlights how unlike himself he’s been at this stage where David is the only one he’s doing this stuff with.  Isak, by contrast, hangs with his boys in much more static ways.  They sit around, they talk, they play video games, they joke etc.  But they’re not as physically active.  Part of this difference could also be the timing of when each couple left the party and thus when they might have got home and thus how much sleep they might conceivably have got.  Matteo and David left mid afternoon, whereas Isak and Even left well after 9.  But the differences in this way in other scenes are also quite clear so it’s at least partly because of a difference in preference in terms of how they enjoy hanging out with people.

What we do get here is Isak having the confidence to contradict Even, though.  For once he’s not just being swept away but is carving out his own space in this thing.  It allows for a deeper, more real conversation even than the one they had in episode two.  Matteo and David have already had this sort of conversation, where they were both open and vulnerable with the other.  So this for them is just a continuation.  I don’t think that Matteo and David are genuinely more ‘equal’ than Isak and Even, but I think Isak thinks Even is out of his league for a lot longer than Matteo thinks that of David.  That’s partly to do with how much vs how little time they were able to interact in previous episodes and also to the fact that their ages are different with Matteo and David being in the same year.  This difference is really highlighted at the end of this clip when it’s ‘I’m so fucked’ vs ‘we’re so fucked’ -- Isak is still more aloof from Even and his issues than Matteo is from David’s.  The thing here is that Isak is getting comfortable with this new person and is beginning to let his true colours out.  He’s competitive and argumentative and he likes to talk and discuss.  This is the point where he starts to come into his own with Even and Even really becomes less of a godlike figure and more of an equal.  The other difference in this scene is the variety of things we see Isak and Even talking about.  Their conversations roams, bouncing from thing to thing and they don’t dwell on any one topic for long.  Isak is open and curious and wants to know it all, but he’s unwilling to share too much of his own stuff.  He shuts his Eskild story down with ‘blah blah blah’ whereas Matteo, when asked a similar thing, is much more willing to talk about his family life and why he’s thinking what he’s thinking.  He’s very clear about what he needs: yeah being alone is bad.  He’s so willing to let David in, again probably because they’ve been here before and that conversation went well and it therefore becomes easier to share vulnerabilities.  Isak is still feeling out how much and what he should tell.  Matteo is clearly having just as long and just as varied a conversation with David but we don’t get to hear it.  Instead we see how energised they are together, how much David makes him laugh, how much he enjoys the time together.

Their morning after personas are very different too.  Isak is wary, scared at having been ‘caught’ when Even left and he shuts his friends out, very deliberately via the door to his room.  Matteo, on the other hand, literally doesn’t seem to care that he’s so different to usual.  He actually invites the girls to share some of his pasta and jokes and has some fun with them.  Considering that to this point, isak has been much more open and connected with his friends and Matteo has been the opposite it’s an interesting development.  It speaks again, I think, to Matteo being much more secure in who he is.  Literally all he’s been needing is someone to push him out of his rut, whereas Isak has now had his experience with a boy and is swimming in all the new things that throws up for him about who he is.  He wants to process it alone or with Even not with the general world.  Matteo is more than happy to be seen happy, and as we see later in this episode, he’s far more willing to be open about this relationship and to kiss etc in public spaces, something we continue to see Isak struggling with almost to the end of this season.

This more connected Matteo and less connected Isak carries through into their post-weekend meeting with the boys.  Isak is sidelined, clearly on the outer and can’t even find Even at all.  And his boys, who he blew off to be with Even, now have a shared experience and are animatedly talking about it with Isak visibly pushed off to the side.  He feels lonely and isolated.  Matteo on the other hand gets a firm commitment from David to meet later in the week and when he talks to Jonas he’s invited into the discussion.  That’s easier of course because it’s just the two of them, but it’s still a major move away from his self imposed isolation of earlier.  He’s found David, is happy and positive about their future, and so he’s re-entering the world.  We get a really good indication of who he really is here, and it’s someone who enjoys being open with other people when he’s feeling good.  He has his down moment when Sara confronts him about breaking up with her, but even then he doesn’t seem all that bothered by it not even when she ‘accuses’ him of not being into girls.  In fact he’s so unbothered by it that he’s genuinely confused when David asks how she’s doing after their date.  Yeah he’s not into girls, he met ‘this guy’ and he’s willing to go after what he wants and doesn’t care who knows it.  He makes his intentions very clear to David, while still respecting David’s choices and preferences.  David’s conversation here is very opaque, and we don’t really know what he means or why he’s acting the way he is.  Matteo certainly doesn’t seem to get it, and while he’s confused he’s willing to let David take it at his own pace during that date.  He still thinks they’re on the same page, and in a lot of ways they are.  David is scared to be open but not because of anything Matteo has said about the things that are important to him and so the path back to each other is a lot less fraught.  Matteo into the next few episodes is more free to reminisce about their time together as ‘beautiful’ without the strain of some of the other things Isak deals with.

Isak by contrast is left in a very awkward state.  He thinks they make a commitment to each other there in that locker room.  He isn’t aware that he’s said anything that will push Even away, indeed he thought that saying keeping mentally ill people (eg his mother, who he has a difficult relationship with) away from him is a drawcard.  So the path of both of these boys to the end of this episode is very different.  For Isak, the ‘we’re going too fast’ text comes out of nowhere, after he thinks they make a firm commitment.  Even used words that very much suggested they would be together, so it’s not strange that Isak believes they are.  Isak is also forced now to talk about his parents in a way that he avoided with the ‘blah blah blah’ story, and so he’s being vulnerable at a time when he wants to be honest.  He genuinely wants to answer Even’s question about how they’d feel if he was with a guy.  But he fumbles it a lot because he’s doing it on the spot and he knows it’s a delicate topic.  His mother probably wouldn’t be happy, but he doesn’t want that to drive Even away so he makes the infamous comment that is what actually pushes him away.  That text also comes after the very passionate discussion with Eskild whose disapproval of Isak’s commentary on being ‘gay gay’ is so very deep and cutting.  His reaction to that is shame and then he’s hit with that message from Even.  It devastates him as we see when he’s isolating himself from the boys again the next evening.  He withdraws into himself and his self isolation only gets worse once he sees Even.  He completely shuts the boys out and goes off on his own, wanting to deal with this huge emotional blow by himself.  It’s a far cry from the Isak we saw at the start of the season.  

Matteo’s reaction is to get angry with himself.  The tone and the flow of the conversation is different even though the content is much the same, with Matteo at the start once again seeming to try to explain why he feels the way he does, unlike Isak who was quite defensive in his dismissal of being ‘like that’.  Matteo is more ‘that’s your thing, this is my thing, and I want to stay me’. Unfortunately, Matteo does get to Isak’s level of causing offense by the end as he digs his hole deeper with some of his comments.  He tries to apologise, much the same way he did with the dancing girl scene, but Hans cuts him off and leaves.  Hans seems much less hurt than Eskild, or at least less bitter with it.  There’s no ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ comment and so Matteo’s reactions mostly stem from his own internal annoyance with himself.  His ‘fuck’ is directed at himself because he knows he screwed up and didn’t get the words to come out right.  Isak’s seemed more ignorant to start, whereas Matteo appears more to be just trying to define himself (though this could be in hindsight just because Eskild and Hans react quite differently).  This means of course that when Matteo gets David’s ‘we’re going too fast’ text he has no qualms in going to his house.  This is more in character for him anyway; he’s never been one to just accept David coming to him.  He’s always been more proactive and in this case he’s going to fight for what he wants.  That of course ends badly because David gets spooked and pushes him even further away.  One thing I haven’t really mentioned before is how much more aggressive Matteo is than Isak.  When he gets upset or angry he throws things to relieve some of that pressure and tension.  It’s never designed to break anything, indeed he usually chooses harmless things that will let off steam without causing damage.  But it’s something I can’t ever see Isak doing which is why the way he shoves Mahdi at the party shows how much he’s hurting.  Matteo’s is more of the same, Isak’s is a shocking burst out of nowhere.

Both boys are left devastated at the end of the episode, but Matteo’s is far more from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.  David’s text seems to have come out of nowhere, just a random ‘it’s going too fast’ after he’s been mulling it over.  Even’s is in direct response to Isak asking to hang out.  And Matteo gets shut down when he goes to see David, both by his sister and by his second text, the much harsher ‘I’m not into you.’  Isak sees Even from a distance when he’d have no way to know Isak would ever see, and so for Isak there is still the possibility of hope.  ‘I need time’ is much less definitive than what Matteo is told.  The result is the same, though.  They both further isolate themselves.  But for Isak this is a continuation of what he’s been doing or what has been happening this whole week; it’s just a deeper slide into this state.  Whereas Matteo had one shining week of reconnecting and being happy before this hit him hard.  He retreats to his old standby after this, taking it even further.  It’s interesting that again we see Isak trying to take the lead a bit by asking Even to hang out, and getting shut down again, which reinforces the idea that Even is still the one calling the shots here.  But Matteo is used to being the one to take the lead.  He and David generally share that role, and so it’s easier for him to decide to fight.  The thing is that in the past David has been willing to go along when Matteo has taken the lead (and vice versa, but that’s not so important right now), so having him back off so many times during the date and on the Friday night really drives home for Matteo that something has gone wrong.  All he knows is that one day things were great and the next he’s lost David for no discernible reason.  Of course he’s devastated.  Isak’s week has been pretty bad, with one shining moment of brightness in the middle, so for him this is just one more blow on top of a number he’s already endured.  His has been building up to this point.  Either way, they’re both suffering at this point and we get the real start of all the pain.

Episode six can be found here

[itsclydebitches]

Can we please have more of Uncle Oz? That prompt was beautiful and my little heart needs more. Specifically why Oz slept on the couch before as Yang mention it has happened in the past. *puppy eyes*

Okay, okay, I’m an IDIOT who doesn’t remember her own writing. Because my fool brain ended up writing about Qrow sleeping on the couch instead, for undetermined reasons. Will I ever successfully answer a prompt? Will Qrow and Oz ever end up in the same drabble together again? Stay tuned to find out! 

(Prompt list is here) 

Tai took two steps into Ozpin’s latest apartment, saw the quilt lying haphazardly over the couch, and had the distinct urge to walk back out again.

“What did he do this time?” he sighed.

Ozpin’s lips thinned. He cast his own look at the messy pile of pillow and blankets, seeming to project an unwarranted amount of disdain at the poor, innocent fabrics. They wouldn’t be the first inanimate objects to take the brunt of Ozpin’s emotions. In lieu of people—and very much to their benefit—Ozpin tended to take his rare anger out on the trees of Forever Fall Forest; the occasional dish that gave a satisfying shatter. Those moments truly were rare though. More often than not Tai simply found piles of methodically torn up paper on Ozpin’s desk.

Right now the sleeve of his sweater was slowly coming undone, the loose thread rolled, rolled, rolled between two fingers. Yep.

“Don’t even try it,” Tai said, gesturing at the weak smile Ozpin had just conjured out of will alone. “If you tell me not to worry, say it’s nothing, or worse, start going on about how I came here for a nice visit? I will take this umbrella and shove it straight up your ass.”

“Hardly the best way to start our evening together.” This time the twitch of his lips was genuine. Ozpin swept aside to let Tai through, arm falling in a graceful arc to indicate the umbrella stand and a small mat for his shoes. “Truly though, you didn’t come here to—”

“Finish that sentence, Oz. I dare you.” Tai shook the umbrella and a thousand water droplets scattered across the floor.

“Oh for dust’s sake. You’re as stubborn as he is,” and with a huff Ozpin turned on his heel and headed back towards the kitchen.

Hmm. That didn’t bode well.

A lack of reprimand for getting water all over his entryway? Check.

Insulting his guest—because yes, any comparison to Qrow was an automatic insult in this family—right when they’d arrived? Check.

Visible frustration, petulant attitude, further faux pas by abandoning Tai to his own devices? Check, check, check. Tai cast a longing look at the door and kicked off his shoes.

“Formal announcement,” he said, wandering into the kitchen to find Oz slamming milk onto the counter. “I would like to remind everyone here,” Tai gestured to an invisible audience, “that I am not even related to you. Not technically. Not since I dumped Raven’s fine ass. And yet here I am, the best of fake brother in laws, here to be your shoulder to cry on. Metaphorically. Because I just bought this shirt and I’m not prepared to find out what two-thousand year old tears might do to it.”

The look Ozpin cast him could have melted iron. “Are you going to be like this all night?”

“Until you tell me what happened? Absolutely.”

“Very well. That shirt is horrendous though. By the way.”

“Thank you. Wore it special for this visit. Oh, extra marshmallows in mine. Don’t be stingy, old man.”

Ozpin agreed with a roll of his eyes, plopping said marshmallows into two mugs as the milk began to steam. He’d said once that only fools put the marshmallows in last. Pouring cocoa over them ensured the perfect, almost-melted-but-not-quite consistency for scooping up with a spoon. Tai had said he was crazy and had said spoon chucked at his head.

The cocoa was very good though.

“I can hear it buzzing,” Tai said, taking a seat at the counter. With speed worthy of a huntsmen Oz had his scroll out and tucked away in a drawer. Neither he nor Qrow had much time to cook, so their kitchen had the sort of aesthetic perfection usually only found in domestic magazines. Tai ran his finger over the absurdly clean marble top, tracing a line from mug to salt shaker. “You ever going to answer him?”

Ozpin pulled up a stool directly beside Tai, their knees now pressed together. Need for physical contact? Check.

“My silence is answer enough.”

“Oz.”

“He—”

Ozpin cut himself off and all at once the wind went right out of Tai’s sails. Oh. No more jabs or check-lists then. That expression wasn’t something to trifle with. He…

Well. Let’s just say the last time Ozpin looked like that he’d had the name ‘Summer’ on his lips. Dejection of that sort—pulling at an intrinsically optimistic nature—only ever meant someone’s death.

The mug of cocoa slammed down on the counter. “Qrow’s dead?”

“Tai.”

“Right, right, sorry. Stupid, knee-jerk question. So he…?”

“Almost died, yes.” Ozpin delivered the news without a trace of emotion. Not to the casual observer, at least. “Of course, he’d never admit as much to himself. Let alone to me. Oh no, the man will go to his grave—literally!—insisting that he’s never made an impulsive decision in his life. Not on the battlefield, anyhow.” His own mug was snatched up and half the chocolate poured down his throat. “I married a fool.”

Been there, Tai almost said, but bit his lip at just the last moment. Right. Serious conversation now. It was just hard when he could so clearly see the picture spread out before him. He hadn’t visited last week because Qrow and Oz were out on a mission, the sort of thing that wasn’t secret exactly, but played close between them for Tai’s own peace of mind. They had to have encountered grimm because Ozpin would have been on a warpath if any humans or faunus had gotten between them. So maybe Qrow took on too many. Or, as Oz said, played the over confident fool. Maybe he was just careless.

…or maybe, based on how Oz was rubbing at his shoulder, Qrow had taken a hit meant for him.

“How bad is it?”

The question came out a whisper, but you’d have thought Tai shouted it with the way Ozpin jerked. Right. Pretty unused to having other people read him so easily—or at all. Tai would have liked to rib him on it. Only problem was, Oz was only transparent like this when something was well and truly bothering him.

Damn his own, kind nature. Tai was a freaking saint and everyone was going to realize it one of these days. He should really get some sort of medal.

Ozpin, meanwhile, had deliberately moved his hands back to his mug and carefully re-schooled his features. They might as well have been discussing budget reports.

“He dodged it,” Ozpin said, each word clipped and a little bit fragile. “Barely. After pushing me out of the way, of course. You’d think two thousand years of training would keep me from making an initiate’s mistake, hmm?”

“You’d think two thousand years of training would have taught you the lesson you’re always pushing on us.”

“Which is?”

“No one’s perfect, Oz.”

A curl of his lip and two taps against porcelain. It said, I should be.

“I don’t care about perfection.” Liar. “But I do care if my mistakes endanger others. More pressingly, given that it’s clear I will continue to make mistakes, I care greatly when others wish to take on my consequences when there is absolutely no need.”

Tai forced himself to swallow down another sigh. Oh, they all knew that speech well now. The problem with befriending an immortal was that he believed, with every fiber of his being, that he was meant to take the hit. Always.

Tai also knew damn well that he wouldn’t be the guy to talk Oz out of that. That particular honor went to the man currently banished to the couch.

Funny the irony there. And by ‘funny’ Tai meant ‘Not at all what the absolute fuck, Ozpin.’

“What I’m hearing,” he said slowly. “Is that you’re punishing Qrow for doing—wait for it—this absolutely horrible thing called loving you.”

Ozpin scowled. “You know very well it’s more complicated than—”

“Get over it.”

Ozpin blinked.

“Everything’s complicated for you. Everything is always going to be complicated. So for just this one thing get over it and accept that Qrow loves you. That loving you might include dying for you. I sure as hell hope not, but if you don’t allow him that then you’re gonna reach a point where he’s not even sleeping on the couch anymore.”  

Impassioned speeches, thy name is not Tiayang Xiao-Long. He’d tried though. With good reason. Ozpin was staring at the countertop now, one foot lightly bobbing over the rung of his stool. A bit of his bottom lip pulled up between his teeth. That was something.

Oh, Tai was under no illusions that he’d change someone like Ozpin so easily. But for now? That lack of pushback was just enough.

Finally Ozpin raised his head. He moved it in what might have been Remnant’s smallest, most terrified nod.

Or maybe Tai was just finding what he wanted to see.

“You want to see Ruby’s latest drawing?” he asked, tapping the space above his heart. Pure coincidence that his girls’ artwork happened to be tucked in the pocket there. “She’s got some pretty awesome ideas about what the grimm must look like.”

Ozpin’s eyes shown. “But of course. Although… perhaps we should wait for Qrow?”

Just like that. Smooth it over. Tai was good at that, though he had no illusions that he’d never again walk in to see Qrow’s pillow stuffed onto one end of that couch. Dust only knew how Oz would react the next time he tried to play hero… or whether Tai would ever be allowed to die for him as he would any other friend. That might be too much to ask him for.

Remember he’s different, Tai thought. Every victory is so much larger when it’s with Oz. You’ve just gotta remember that.

Tai lifted his mug in a toast. “Sounds like a plan.”

The cocoa was cold now. Tai decided to focus on the sweetness instead.

[darks-ink]

Disinterred CH.12

Chapter 12: And You Will See Me Now

She wondered if his lack of self-preservation was a ghost thing, or if Danny had always been like that. Because she could very easily imagine him getting himself killed, doing things like this.

(Tumblr hates links and I want this to appear in the tags so… for author notes/full fic summary/links to the other chapters/mirror links to AO3 and FFnet, click here)

The ghost scanner went off, and Valerie barely restrained a groan. She had really hoped to work on her homework for once.

Briefly she considered just leaving the ghost to Phantom. Her talk with Danny, combined with her talk with Phantom a little over a week ago, had settled her mind on the ghost boy. She had grown increasingly convinced that he wasn’t as malevolent as she had previously assumed. And so she was sure she could trust him to protect the city.

But then she caught the reading of her scanner. One fairly strong ghost nearby, with another approaching quickly. Her scanner made quick work of determining the first one: Skulker, a hunter-type ghost who regularly haunted Amity.

She didn’t need her tech to tell her that the second was Phantom, racing over from wherever he was when he wasn’t fighting.

Sure, Phantom could probably handle this himself. But Skulker had made it to Elmerton, where people weren’t quite as used to fleeing from ghost attacks. And the hunter had a bad habit of firing missiles and other weaponry, which were dangerous for onlookers.

Before she had fully considered it, Valerie had suited up and launched herself out of her window. If anything, this would be a good opportunity to offer Phantom another truce. A more permanent one, maybe. They had worked together against Skulker before, after all.

It wasn’t hard to find the fight. In the slowly decreasing light, the flashes of bright green were easy to spot. Apparently Phantom had made it to Skulker before her. Valerie wondered for a moment how quickly Phantom could fly, but dismissed the thought almost immediately. She had to focus on the fight.

Skulker was focused entirely on Phantom, who was zipping through the sky, dodging shots. Neither of them had seen Valerie approach. She smirked to herself, and quietly readied a gun. What kind of shitty hunter didn’t watch their environment?

The pink blast hit Skulker in the wing, badly damaging it and causing him to falter mid-air. His shots went wide, giving Phantom a chance to break away as well.

“Who-!” the metallic ghost whirled around, readying his gun to shoot Valerie back. She kept her stance steady, ready to dart out of the way if he fired.

And then a green blast hit Skulker’s other wing.

“Hey tin can, don’t forget about me!” Phantom jeered, as another blast was building up in his hand.

Skulker growled wordlessly, unable to keep an eye on both enemies at once. Apparently he decided that Phantom was the bigger threat, however, since he fired his shot at the other ghost. Phantom, in turn, dodged effortlessly.

Valerie fired another shot into Skulker’s back to teach him for forgetting about her.

“You little-” the ghost started, but he never got to finish as Phantom landed another blast, this time hitting Skulker’s neck. A dreadful snap sounded, and suddenly Skulker’s body went limp as his head disconnected.

Phantom zipped in and caught the head, as Valerie froze in shock. Sure, maybe ghosts didn’t work the same way as humans, but she had never seen Phantom do anything this ruthless. He decapitated another ghost!

And to make matters worse, the ghost boy stuck his hand inside the neck of the other ghost. What the fuck was he doing?

“Ah ha!” Phantom exclaimed, pulling his hand back and dropping the metal head.

And in his hand was… another ghost? Small and green and squirmy, it was clearly trying to escape from the teenage ghost holding it.

“Let go of me!” it yelled, its voice strangely high-pitched. “Let go of me, whelp! I am Skulker! Ghost Zone’s greatest hunter!”

Oh. That was… an unexpected twist. Maybe she had judged Phantom a little too quickly. Again.

“Yeah, yeah.” Phantom looked as bored as he sounded. With the hand that had previously been holding the head, he grasped the Thermos strapped to his belt. “Just get in the Thermos already.”

And then in a flash the squirmy ghost was gone. Phantom lowered himself to the ground, and sucked the body (suit?) up as well. And then he turned to look at her.

“Hey Red, thanks for the help. He didn’t hit you, right?”

“Uh, no.” She lowered herself a little as well, and watched as Phantom came up to her level again. “He was too focused on you to fire at me.”

Phantom apparently picked up on her silent distress, because he frowned at her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just...” She wasn’t sure what to say. How do you tell a ghost that you thought that it violently attacked and decapitated another ghost?

“You didn’t know that it was just a suit, did you?” Phantom laughed. He laughed. “Don’t worry, I had a similar reaction the first time I saw his suit get wrecked.”

“Oh.” Valerie slumped in a little, relieved. “How come I never noticed before, then?”

“Coincidence, I think.” Phantom shrugged, clipping the Thermos back onto his belt. “I usually try to destroy the suit instead of sucking it up, so he’ll take longer to come back. But we’re in the middle of the city, and sometimes he packs them with explosive weaponry. Don’t want to risk causing unnecessary damage.”

“That… makes sense.”

Valerie allowed the silence to linger for a moment. Then she remembered her intentions to make up for her earlier behavior towards Phantom.

“Actually, I, uh. Wanted to talk to you.”

“Again?” Phantom questioned, quirking a brow at her. “Is it related to you helping me fight Skulker instead of shooting me down as well?”

Valerie grimaced, glad that her helmet hid her expressions from the ghost. “Uh, yeah. I… was wrong about ghosts. About you.”

“Really?” Phantom grinned at her, a genuine smile on his face. Valerie wasn’t sure if she had ever seen the ghost with a smile that wasn’t shit-eating or a smirk before… but she kind of liked it.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For, y’know, shooting you. And blaming you for everything that has happened to me.”

“You don’t know how much that means to me.” But Valerie was pretty sure she did know. Phantom’s expression was a pretty clear indicator. He would’ve made a pretty terrible poker player. Or actor, for that matter. Why did she ever think otherwise?

But then the ghost sighed, closing off again. “And I would love to talk about it more. But...” He glanced upwards, at the steadily darkening sky. “I have somewhere I need to be. Can we… meet up again? Tomorrow, maybe?”

Valerie blinked, surprised. She hadn’t expected him to forgive her this easily. Heavens know she wouldn’t have, if she had been in his shoes.

“Uh, sure? When, and where?”

Phantom shrugged. “Somewhere private, definitely. And after you’re done with school?”

“The abandoned warehouses near the docks, then?” And then her brain processed the second part of his sentence, and her expression darkened. “Wait a minute, how do you know when I’m done with school?”

Phantom snorted. “I spend a lot of time near the school because ghosts keep attacking it, so I have a pretty good idea when people get out. And I can wait for you at the docks, you can find me with your scanner, right?”

“That’s… fair.” He was right, of course. Ghosts attacked the school constantly. Even if Phantom stayed away outside of attacks, which she kind of doubted, he still would’ve picked up on their schedules. “So the warehouses, after school?”

“Yeah,” Phantom agreed, with a nod. Then he glanced at the sky again and grimaced. “And I really gotta get going. See you tomorrow, Red.”

And with a short wave he launched himself away, racing upwards and towards Amity. Valerie watched him go, but soon lost track of him.

He could definitely out-fly her hoverboard.

Valerie’s hoverboard hummed quietly as she flew towards the docks. She wasn’t going very fast, instead using the quiet time to think.

The whole day, her meeting with Phantom had hung over her. She couldn’t predict him, didn’t know what he wanted or why.

She had also spend more time with Danny. She wanted to make sure that he was okay, that no one was bothering him. She couldn’t imagine being a ghost, and she definitely couldn’t imagine having to live with such rumors. She was sure she would’ve gone crazy the first week, if it had been her.

Hanging with Danny… was surprisingly nice. Sam and Tucker were with him, of course, as usual. But for once, they weren’t hostile to her.

And she understood why they had been, of course. They all knew that she was a ghost hunter, and Danny was a ghost. They were simply trying to protect their friend.

Their friend, who very stupidly befriended a ghost hunter.

She wondered if his lack of self-preservation was a ghost thing, or if Danny had always been like that. Because she could very easily imagine him getting himself killed, doing things like this.

But she appreciated it. Danny was a fantastic friend, unlike her ‘friends’ from the A-List. And Sam and Tucker were clearly warming up to her as well, now that she was protecting Danny’s secret too.

Valerie broke out of her thoughts at the sound of her ghost scanner. She had arrived at the docks already, and her scanner had picked up Phantom’s presence. She followed the trail to one of the abandoned warehouses.

Hovering over the somewhat rickety roof, Valerie didn’t have to wait long for Phantom to show. He faded into visibility almost instantly, posture only slightly tense.

“Hey Val,” Phantom greeted her, a soft smile on his face. She squashed her automatic response, which was to reprimand him for using her name, and instead smiled back. Then she remembered that she was wearing a helmet, and retracted it back into her suit.

“No plans to get to today?”

“Nothing for the moment.” Phantom shrugged. Then he lowered himself, his white boots soundlessly touching down on the roof. “Well, besides this, of course.”

“Right.” Valerie made to follow his example, but took another look at the roof and decided against it. Instead she disengaged the locks on her boots and sat down on the board. “So, Phantom… How do you feel about a truce?”

“Pretty good,” Phantom said, his smile widening. “Although I wouldn’t mind working together more often, either. We made a pretty good team against Skulker yesterday.”

“True.” But there were complications with that plan. Things that Phantom clearly hadn’t considered, being a ghost and all. “And I don’t mind working together, but… I have a busy life, Phantom. I can’t go out and hunt ghosts all day, y’know?”

Phantom’s smile fell some, and he sighed. “No, I get it. But we can work together without actually fighting together. Share responsibility over the weaker ones, and work together to fight the stronger ghosts.”

“That… could work.” But she would prefer it if Phantom took care of all the weak ghosts. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, and she had work and school to focus on. “But Phantom… I have other responsibilities too. I’m already doing bad enough in school as-is.”

“And I’m not?” Phantom retorted with a frown, crossing his arms.

What? But he couldn’t… Phantom couldn’t go to school, could he? Even if the ghosts have some sort of school in the Ghost Zone, Phantom spent too much time in the regular world to attend. And he couldn’t go to a human school either. Although he is very human in appearance, he has also become far too recognizable.

Unless… he uses some sort of disguise? But the only school near Amity Park is Casper High, and a disguise wouldn’t protect Phantom from her scanners.

But Phantom sighed and snapped her out of her thoughts again. “Sorry. You’re right, you do have more responsibilities than me.” He had turned away from her, but she could see the tense lines of his muscles. Or, what passed as his muscles. She wasn’t sure if ghosts had them.

“Wait, hang on. What did you mean? Are you… saying that you go to school too?”

Phantom turned back to face her again, frown still on his face. Or again, maybe. She couldn’t be sure.

“I- Yeah.” He unfolded his arms, then started rubbing the back of his neck. The gesture was familiar to Valerie, but she couldn’t immediately place it. “I kind of… wanted to talk about that, too.”

“How so?” She was still studying him, trying to place where she had seen that neck rubbing before.

But before she figured it out, Phantom dropped his hand again. “I’ll… show you. It’s easiest.”

“Show me what, Phantom?” She was getting worried now. What did he want to tell her about that would be easier to show her? How could that be anything but bad?

A spark burst from Phantom’s waist, suddenly, and Valerie almost fell off her board in surprise. She was about to reengage her helmet again, but then she saw that it wasn’t an attack.

Instead, the spark had extended, forming a bright circle of light around Phantom. Then the ring wavered and split in two. The two halos swept across his body, revealing… surprisingly normal clothes. Bare arms.

No ghostly glow.

Phantom had closed his eyes, but when the upper ring passed his hair and dyed it black instead of white… Valerie didn’t need to see his eyes to know their color.

Almost cruelly, her mind took this moment to remind her that when Phantom had first told the media his name… he had included a first name.

He had dubbed himself Danny Phantom.

And now Danny Fenton opened his eyes, looking at her with a mixture of doubt and hope. And Valerie… didn’t know what to think. Felt overcome by all these revelations.

The boy, her friend, smiled sheepishly at her. Raised his hand to rub the back of his neck again.

“Danny,” she whispered, finally. She wasn’t sure what emotions her voice carried, because she didn’t even know which ones she felt.

“Yeah...” he said, nodding slightly. “It’s me. Has been, from the start.” His smile had dropped, but he continued to rub the back of his neck.

“But why? Wait. How?” She tried not to bite out her answers, but her distress made her snappier than usual. Danny must’ve realized, because he didn’t even flinch. Either that, or he had gotten used to her being angry at him.

“I… It’s a long story.” He finally dropped the hand, offering her a shrug. “But long story short, I’m kind of… only half ghost? Phantom is what I actually look like as a ghost. But my core stays in human form, so ghost hunting equipment can pick it up, if it’s strong enough.”

“You’re… half ghost?” Her tone was incredulous, but it couldn’t possibly convey the extend to which she felt it. Surely… he can’t be only half of a ghost? Maybe he was some sort of shapeshifting ghost. Those existed, she knew.

“Yeah. Didn’t realize it at the start, but I kind of… defy the rules of regular ghosts.” He huffed out a breath. “Not that we knew that, of course, so we just thought I died.”

Valerie frowned. “Who is this ‘we’?”

“Sam, Tucker, and I. We were together when I had my accident.” He stayed silent for a moment before he shook his head, like he was shaking off his thoughts. “And everybody else who knows thought I was a full ghost too. Jazz, and… Well, I guess my parents don’t really count, since they were told that I was a ghost, without the connection to Phantom.”

“Wait, your parents didn’t know?” Valerie knew that Danny’s parents weren’t all that good at hunting ghosts, but not to realize that their own son was one… Or, well, half of one, if he was telling the truth.

“Nope,” Danny confirmed, smiling a little. “Like I’ve said before, they couldn’t catch a ghost if it was living under their roof.”

“Oh my god, Danny,” Valerie groaned, burying her head in her hands. “How can you joke about this? Why wouldn’t you tell them?”

“Jazz says it’s a coping mechanism.” Danny’s grin widened, then fell a little. “As for your second question… Well, would you tell your ghost hunting parents that you died and became a ghost?”

“No, I guess not.” Valerie’s shoulders sagged as she lifted her head again. “So I’m guessing that that canine wrecking ball really wasn’t your dog? Because I highly doubt you could’ve kept that thing away from your parents.”

“Cujo? Nah, he’s his own dog.” Danny grimaced a little. “He kept coming to me though. I think because I was the only other ghost around. Wanted me to help find his toy.”

“If he wanted his toy, why did he keep coming back to Axion Labs?” Valerie crossed her arms, sending a mild glare at Danny.

“Because that’s where his toy was, Val.” Danny rolled his eyes. “He used to be a guard dog, I think. He was trained and he was wearing an Axion Labs tag on his collar. After I got him his toy during the second break-in he left, and now he usually stays in the Zone.”

“Oh.” Valerie uncrossed her arms again, studying the boy in front of her. He said that he wasn’t fully a ghost, but she wasn’t sure if she believed that. On the other hand, if his parents believed it, maybe there was some truth to it. What did he say again? That he defied the rules of regular ghosts?

“How did you convince your parents that you weren’t a full ghost?”

“Huh?” Danny asked, startled. Apparently he hadn’t expected her to go back to that topic. “Oh, uh. Regular ghosts don’t need to breathe or eat, and they don’t have a heartbeat.” He shrugged. “There’s more, of course, but those are the basic things.”

That… made sense. She had seen some ghosts breathe before, but they usually stopped if they dropped their human disguise. Phantom, however, she had definitely seen breathing. At the time she had thought that it was part of his plan to fool the town on how ‘human’ he was… But he really was human. Or partly, at least.

“Can I…” she trailed off before she finished her sentence, uncertainly holding out a hand. Danny understood anyway, since he held out of own hand, angling it so she could easily grasp his wrist.

She called her armored gauntlets back, gently holding Danny’s wrist in one hand and putting down the bare fingers of the other. The heartbeat that greeted her was slow, slower than normal for a human… But it was strong. Steady. Undeniable, despite the cold of Danny’s flesh.

Valerie didn’t know what to say. What to think. What to do. It was like it was Danny’s sole goal in life to constantly throw everything in her life upside-down.

But… it had always ended up better for his involvement. Sure, being poor sucked, but she never would’ve made friends with Danny otherwise. Would never have started hunting ghosts.

She let go of his hand again, and patted the spot next to her on the hoverboard. Danny took the silent cue, and sat down next to her.

“So. Now what?”

Valerie huffed out a laugh. “You’ve asked that already. And my answer stays the same.” She offered him a shaky smile, but one she poured as much of her heart into as she could. “We’re friends, Danny. Anything I could’ve blamed you for, you’ve already made up for.”

“Oh. That’s… good.” Danny sat back, leaning on his hands. “I’m glad to hear so. I was… worried.”

“That I would be upset?” She couldn’t blame him. She had the unfortunate habit of getting angry before thinking things through. “I mean, I am, a little. But you did nothing wrong. I would’ve done the same, I think.”

Then she shoved him a little, laughing. “Actually, no I wouldn’t. Because I definitely wouldn’t have risked my own skin dating a ghost hunter who hated my ghost half.”

Danny looked a little startled at the shove, but then barked out a laugh. “Yeah, Sam and Tucker were pissed about that.”

“I can imagine that. They’re pretty protective of you, and apparently for good reasons.” That boy would’ve gotten himself killed without the two of them, she was sure. Although he had apparently gotten himself halfway there despite their presence. “Guess you’ll just need another bodyguard.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed, nodding. Then he stopped, suddenly. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Well, Sam and Tucker are no doubt great at protecting you against human threats, but you need a hand with ghostly threats as well.” She smirked at him. “So I’m offering my services.”

“Yeesh, don’t let them hear you. Sam and Tucker have helped me with countless ‘ghostly threats’ before, you know.” His tone was reprimanding, but the smile on his face conveyed the underlying joke. “But like I said earlier, I wouldn’t mind a hand with patrolling and ghost fighting.”

Valerie nodded and held out her hand. “That’s a deal then, Mr. Phantom.”

Danny rolled his eyes but took her hand anyway. “Definitely. Want to go for a quick patrol right now?”

“You got it.” Valerie grinned as her helmet formed again, before pushing herself upright. The soles of her shoes locked back on the hoverboard with clearly audible clicks.

Danny had jumped off of the board, light washing over him as he dropped down. When Valerie had blinked the dots from her vision again, Phantom floated next to her.

“Ready?” he asked, his normal smirk on his face.

She didn’t answer him, instead shooting off into the sky. Danny yelped but was quick to follow her.

A speaker crackled to life, and the conversation Danny had been having with Sam and Tucker instantly quieted. Principal Ishiyama’s voice suddenly filled the hallways.

“Students, there is a mandatory school assembly during the first class. Attendance will be checked.” The silence lingered for a moment before she repeated the message, and then the crowd started talking again.

“Wonder what that was about,” Tucker mumbled, eyes locked on his PDA.

Danny finished packing his backpack and groaned. “I’ve got the uncanny feeling that it’s about me, somehow.”

“That would be just your luck, yeah.” Sam patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. “And you’ve definitely jinxed it now.”

Danny groaned again, but allowed himself to be distracted by Valerie, who was making her way over to them.“Hey Val,” he greeted her when she was close enough.

“Hey Danny, Sam, Tucker.” She offered them a smile. “You guys know what that assembly is about?”

“Knowing Danny’s luck, it’ll be about him.” Tucker still hadn’t looked up from his PDA. Honestly, what was he even doing on that thing?

“Geez, no wonder you’ve formed such a protective squad.” Valerie grinned, crossing her arms. “I guess even powerful ghosts can be felled by bad luck, huh?”

“Story of my life,” Danny agreed, also grinning. “Also, speaking of my protective squad… Sam?”

“Right.” Sam straightened herself out, then turned to Valerie with a smirk on her face. “Valerie Gray, Red Huntress of Amity Park… Welcome to Team Phantom.”

“Yeah, welcome to the shitshow.” Tucker looked up from his PDA to shoot her a shit-eating grin. Danny considered stealing his PDA as punishment but decided against it. Knowing Tucker, he probably had another on him somewhere.

“You- Team Phantom?” Valerie looked as baffled as she sounded, which was very baffled.

“Well, Jazz suggested the Ghost Getters so…” Danny shrugged. “Team Phantom worked better for us.”

“And-” Sam leaned on Danny’s shoulder, smirk widening. “-the whole point is to keep this guy from getting himself killed.”

“I see.” Now Valerie smiled. “I- Thanks. I’ll do my best.”

Before they could say more, however, the bell rung.

Danny grimaced. “Guess we better head to the assembly.”

“Yeah.” Tucker stuffed his PDA in one of his many pockets. “Anyone wanna take bets on the topic?”

They started heading towards the gym, the only location big enough for the entire school.

Valerie scoffed. “No thanks. Knowing what I do now, I definitely agree that it’ll be about Danny somehow.”

“This is gonna be the death of me,” he groaned. The others didn’t respond beyond rolling their eyes as they made their way through the crowds.

Soon they had found themselves spots, sitting in a straight row. Sam on one end, followed by Tucker, then Danny, and finally Valerie on the other end.

Principal Ishiyama walked up to the stand, tapping the microphone to silence the gathered crowd. As soon as they hushed, she spoke.

“Students. We, the faculty of Casper High, have an important announcement.”

The silence lingered as Ishiyama took a fortifying breath. She looked down, at either her hands or a note, before finally eyeing the crowd of teenagers.

“As we all know, a body was found near Amity Park. The police have recently finished their investigations, although they have not released any information to the public. Despite the lack of proper facts, or perhaps because of it, rumors have started spreading regarding this case. We have no clearance to speak about this case in particular. However...”

She paused again, hesitating in a way that was rather uncharacteristic for her.

“However, we can confirm that a ghost is among our students. We have known for almost a month. The decision to allow them to stay at Casper High was not made lightly, and we have determined that they are no threat to their fellow students. We will not tell you who this student is, and we ask you that if you do know, to treat them with the same respect as any other.”

She folded her hands, staring out across the crowd.

“That was all. Thank you for your time, students. Please return to your normal classrooms, so classes may pick up as soon as possible.”

And Principal Ishiyama disappeared off-stage again, as the teenagers started making their way out of the gym as well.

Tucker elbowed Danny with a grin. “You definitely jinxed it.”

“Good thing that I didn’t take that bet.” Valerie shouldered her backpack and stood up. “You were definitely right about his luck.”

“Thanks,” Danny deadpanned, also getting up. “I swear, there’s gotta be some sort of ghostly deity of fate that hates me.”

“Why a ghostly deity?” Valerie asked as she led the group towards their first class.

“Because we already met the one that controls time.” Tucker wiggled an eyebrow at her as he joined her at the front of their group. “Danny may or may not have picked a fight with him.”

“To be fair,” Danny leaned in a little closer so they wouldn’t be overheard in the busy hallways, “Clockwork started it. And it all worked out in the end.”

Valerie groaned, pressing her hand to her face in distress. “You’re joking. Danny, how?”

“Long story,” he explained with a shrug. “I can tell you later, if you really want to know.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Because you’ve still got a lot of explaining to do, Fenton.” But she offered him a warm smile anyway, and he grinned back.

“Of course Val. Of course.”

[pan-gramii]

It’s worth the read. promise.

As someone with MI, who knows about coping methods, and who saw myself in Niccolò. I think it’s time I say my piece on him (and Rocco’s acting be default).

I see a lot of people say they don’t like Niccolò because of how he smiled and laughed at basically everything. They say it’s creepy, off-putting, and shows Rocco’s not really a good actor.

I’m here to tell you that is a legitimate coping mechanism amongst many people with mental illnesses.

My 1st and 2nd year of High School when my MI was at nearly the absolute worst it has ever been. I got told I was weird because I smiled all the time and laughed at the littlest things. It’s a way of trying to stay positive, but it’s also a way to hide the pain even when you’re feeling at your absolute worst or like you can feel tomorrow won’t be a good day. It’s a way of hiding it from those around you out of shame or not wanting them to worry for you.

In one word? It’s overcompensating.

Mental Illness shows itself in many forms — most of those forms being dependent on the coping mechanism you use to try to defend yourself from it. Some people fidget, some take the stoic approach, some avoidance, and then there’s other, like me, who overcompensate the feeling of being lost and hopeless by trying to smile through it when avoidance is not an option. However, that fake joy never quite reaches your eyes and there’s always small moments when it shines through.

This is how I have always viewed Niccolò he’s someone who is naturally bright and when his BPD starts to get harder he overcompensates for losing a bit of that shine. I think it can be seen the most clearly in the bathroom scene and outside the radio when he meets Martino, then tells him he found a way to get to the terrace again.

In the bathroom scene, we see Niccolò smiling genuinely happy to be with Martino again and that smile reaches his eyes. However, when Marti goes on to talk about how he views MI we see Nico become desolate he looks down at the floor and all trace of happiness is gone. The next smile we see from him in that clip is when Marti ask about how Nico’s parts would feel about them. Here is where the coping mechanism presents itself. Nico, smiles, he smiles although we just saw him visibly crumble at Martino’s words. This is in no part bad acting on Rocco’s part nor is it because he couldn’t see another way to react. In that scene doing anything other than smiling would’ve thrown Marti off and made him suspicious. After all was Nico not just happy a moment earlier? The thing that strikes me is that as the audience we, or at least I, can see his eyes did not brighten the way they did before.

Next, we have the scene outside of the radio. Niccolò approaches Martino first and he’s smiling — like he always does. Much-like the bathroom scene it doesn’t reach his eyes. You can kind of tell he’s doing it to put up a brave front, but it falters ever so slightly when Martino doesn’t reciprocate. His eyes seem to almost be begging as he tells Martino about the terrace. (This scene broke my heart. I’ve been in that exact scenario numerous times.)

Being young and ashamed of your MI is something a lot of us suffered through. If we’re lucky we grow older and find people who accept that part of us. People who we’re not ashamed to show how we’re really feeling. To me, Niccolò is just that. He’s young and ashamed. The beauty in it all is that in the end he finds that person who he can open up to and not hide from with a smile. He realizes that Martino is that person and in the Martino è Niccolò clip it comes full circle. Niccolò is no longer laughing at everything, he’s no longer forcing smiles onto his face, he’s just... sad. Although, he’s still slightly ashamed in the beginning of the clip he eventually turns around, faces Martino, and let’s Martino see his unguarded expressions. THEN he does not smile or laugh until he genuinely feels the urge to.

That’s what is so beautiful to me about Skam Italia. I, personally, could see not only Martino’s growth, but Niccolò’s as well. What it means for Niccolò to discard his go-to coping mechanism and allow himself to open himself up to Martino in the best of ways.

I know this was really long and has terrible grammar, but I just needed to get it out there. If anyone has questions or something to add feel free.