#I may be a tiny bit actually afraid of matt. Just a bit

[clinicallyinsanedumpsterrabbit]

I want to see the Matt of Backrooms.

This is a threat.

I think if matt was also sent into the backrooms dave would mistake him for a smiler and attack him, if he'd actually be able to die I don't know and that scares me

[simonsrosebud]

Alright — this is very important — what’s the wedding party look like? Do either of them get walked down the aisle? What do the bachelor parties look like? What’s the first dance like? The cake cutting? OR! Do they just elope?

Either way, the most important thing of all — what are their vows?

i’m going to warn you:  i’m afraid this is going to be a very long post.

the wedding is in january, before playoffs have the chance to start up.  it’s easier that way also, because most of their friends either play exy or coach it, so they’re all off too.  and dalton’s professor friends are off for winter break.

that being said, they’re on a time crunch for bachelor parties.  and since kevin doesn’t drink or anything, the idea of the “typical bachelor” party is out of question.  kevin doesn’t care for a bachelor party for himself, anyway.

however, when andrew is added to a groupchat with the whole wedding party, he sends two texts.  not to the group, but to allison.  she’s the one handling it, anyway.

the first text is a link to elton john at madison square garden, the second is a text.  

hamilton on broadway friday the 14th, concert 15th.

(ik the timelines don’t technically match up, but since this is all fictional who cares)

it’s perfect.  allison checks with dalton to be sure, and he lights up.  apparently kevin has gotten really into hamilton because duh it’s history, and elton john is one of his favorite artists, especially after dalton introduced him to “your song” in college.

dalton goes with him because they know kevin would want him there, unlike normal bachelor parties where you spend it without your fiancé.

as for dalton’s, he gets taken to florida (it’s only like a 5 hour drive i think but they could fly also) and his friends, who for the most part are straight besides emmie, a blazing proud lesbian, take him to gay bars on gay bars, and then go to star wars land in disney world for a day- kevin’s idea.  dalton is very excited about this because in this ask dalton reveals he’s a star wars fan and says he’d like to go see it someday.  they also get drunk in disney, don’t worry.

they both have good sized wedding parties.  for dalton, it’s carmen, bella, and his best friends jenna, reid, and sam.

for kevin, it’s andrew, neil, and dan.  if anyone asked kevin in college if he’d thought she would be in his wedding party- or even if they’d leave college being friends, he would have said no, but he was stupid to think the foxes would ever lose touch.  if anything, he got closer.

he’s also gotten closer than he ever would have probably wished to allison.  there’s something to be said for the both of them having good taste.  all it took was one trip of clothes shopping for a banquet for them to realize they’d had a lot more in common.

the only reason they never realized it was because they’ve both got the same level of stubbornness.

which is why she somehow ends up being asked to be in his wedding party, too.

kevin isn’t worried about asking neil.  a little about andrew, but he can always get neil to talk him into it.  he stops them both from leaving after practice, one day.  “will you be my groomsmen?  both of you?”

neil really doesn’t look surprised.  not even phased.  he’d been matt’s best man, after all.  “yeah, sure.”

kevin looks to andrew, who hasn’t moved a muscle.

when he does, it’s to swing his bag around his shoulder.  "no speeches.”  and before he gets to the door.  “and no one’s wrapping their arm around mine down the aisle.”  and that’s more than okay with kevin.  he doesn’t really want them speaking, anyway.

and then there’s dan and allison.  he isn’t worried about them, so all he does is text them and they agree.

there’s no more than 70 people there.  the actual ceremony only about 30.  it’s not big by any means, but they didn’t want it big anyway.  plus, kevin doesn’t have a whole group of family to invite like dalton does in the first place.  he doesn’t mind, though, because he’s grown to consider dalton’s family his own.

kevin doesn’t get walked down the aisle.  he never saw himself doing that with a woman before he realized he was bi and could potentially marry a man, so he’s never cared for it.

wymack, however, officiates the wedding.  he’s very proud of it, too.  he never seems to show nerves, and he doesn’t let kevin know, but this is something that causes him great stress.  he can’t fuck it up.

he doesn’t, of course.

he’s standing beside kevin when dalton gets walked down the aisle by his mother, and kevin told himself he wouldn’t get emotional.

he lets out a breath and a soft laugh, then looks up at the ceiling to blink away the sudden wetness in his eyes.

when anne hands him off, she kisses kevin on the cheek and whispers.  “all yours now, love.”

kevin wants to kiss dalton so bad.  so so bad.  but he has to wait.  instead he gives him a wink and takes his hands.  he expects them to be a tiny bit sweaty like they sometimes are when he gets nervous, but they’re not.  dalton’s grip is firm, and the only thing kevin can see on him is glee.

kevin feels he barely can pay attention to the words his father is saying until it’s time for the vows.  he’s first.  he takes a deep breath.pays attention to what his father is saying, too busy staring at his fiancé.  until they get to the vows, that is.

kevin is first, and his heart has never beat this fast.  he memorized his vows, but just in case, he unfolds the paper from his pocket and takes the microphone.  “i’ve made plenty of bad decisions in my life.  going to the club the night before a game, trying to fix the kitchen sink by myself.”  he smiles when dalton laughs at the memory.  “d, i knew from the moment i told you about my demons and you stayed, that choosing you was the best decision i’ve made in my entire life.  your are the strength i didn't know i needed, and the joy that i didn't know i lacked.”  dalton mouths i love you.  “thank you, for supporting and loving me unconditionally, i know i haven’t always made it easy.”

dalton gives the slightest shake of his head at that one.  loving kevin comes as easy as breathing.

“thank you for showing me how to accept myself, and showing me what it’s like to find peace, to know what it’s like to feel wanted and loved.  thank you for helping me to better myself as a man and a partner.  you make me a better person in every single way, and i promise to put it all to use and give back every single day of our lives.  i promise to love you through every hardship, to love you for who you are and who you are yet to become.  i promise to support and help you in every new adventure, and to always be at your side.  i promise to be patient and loyal.  i promise to remember to show you every day how deeply i care for you.  i promise to share my whole heart with you, to love you fiercely— for the rest of my life.  as long as you’ll have me.”

dalton blinks away tears, and after taking a moment, he accepts the microphone.  "kev,” he whispers, and takes a breath.  kevin knows he has his written down, but he doesn���t take it out.  he doesn’t need it.  “i used to think that i just got lucky that some random hot kid asked me for help with his homework.”  kevin grins.

“but i’ve realized now that the universe put you in front of me for a reason.  you have filled my life with happiness and have given me a sense of peace that i’ve never known.  you are my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the best co-pilot in life that i could’ve ever wished for.”  he smiles.  “today marks the start to the rest of our lives, whether we’re ready or not.  i will not take our time together for granted. and because words can’t do it, i promise to show you, for the rest of my life, how much i love you.  i promise to encourage you to follow your dreams.  to support you through any of life’s obstacles.  i promise to make you laugh when you’re taking yourself too seriously.  i promise to hold your hand through the good and the bad, to keep you afloat when you feel you’re drowning.  i promise to share the weight on your shoulders like it’s my own.”

a tear drops from kevin’s eye, and dalton reaches to gently wipe it with his thumb before grabbing his hand.  “i promise to never stop making up my own lyrics to songs i don’t know. although, i know you wish i would.  i promise to look back on our lives when we’re old and gray and have no regrets.  i promise, from this day forward, kevin day, that you will never walk alone.”  he lowers the microphone, whispering.  “as long as you’ll have me.”

it’s a very emotional ceremony, that’s for sure, but they’re grinning by the time the rings go on, and dalton barely holds back from jumping kevin before he can say, “you may now kiss.”

kevin has his arms around dalton’s waist and dalton’s hands on his cheek and the back of his neck, and they’re both smiling into the kiss less than two seconds in.  but kevin doesn’t care.  dalton’s laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard and he relishes in it as he crushes him in a hug before tearing back down the aisle.

their first dance is to “your song” by elton john.  is it probably overused?  sure, but kevin isn’t into music enough to know or care about that.  it’s the song that

it’s always been dalton’s go to song to sing in the car, and whenever he does he tends to just kind of grab onto kevin’s hand while he sings.  he’s no harry styles but he can hold a tune just fine.

it then turned into a song kevin listened to on bus or plane rides, and when he entered the pros dalton started sending him voice memos on text of him singing like two lines from the song before his every flight.

kevin also played it in the car back to the cabin after he proposed.

it’s their song.

dalton pulls kevin to him for the first dance, with one hand holding kevin’s and the other pressed against the small of his back.  and dalton’s singing along just loud enough for kevin to hear.  it makes him smile at his dork of a husband, and halfway through the song kevin lays his head on dalton’s shoulder and slides his arms around his neck.  he closes his eyes and ever so quietly sings along.  

dalton kisses the side of his head and wraps his arms around kevin’s waist.

when the song is coming to an end, dalton kisses kevin and smiles as he sings the last lines to him.  “how wonderful life is while you’re in the world”

kevin smiles.  “sweetheart,” he whispers.

but then the song ends, and kevin leans back against their table as dalton takes the floor with anne for the mother son dance.  he sends a thought up to kayleigh.

“i’m incredibly proud of you.”  it’s abby at his side, sliding her arm around his waist.  she kisses his cheek.  “i know you know this already, that you foxes are family to us.  but... you have always been like a son to me.  and you always will, even if not by blood.”

kevin is looking at his feet, but eventually he meets her gaze.  “you’re the closest thing i’ve ever had to a mother.”  he squeezes her hand, and, “do you want to do the dance with me?”  he doesn’t know how he hadn’t thought of it before.

abby’s a little teary, but nods.

dan rests her head on wymack’s shoulder.  “he’s done good.”

wymack nods.  he doesn’t respond, because he’s got… something… stuck in his throat.  not emotions, definitely not emotions.

kevin smears cake all over dalton’s lips when they cut the cake, and in return he presses a messy kiss to his cheek.  it’s sickenly sweet.  the whole thing is, especially compared to the kevin day that some people know, and the one they see on television.

i can’t think of other things i may have missed, but please please let me know if there is anything else you guys want more insight on, or prompts regarding these!

oh yeah, kevin throws one of the bridesmaids little bouquets as a joke.

and carmen catches it.

[raineydaywrites]

Parent Trap(ped in an Umbrella)

hey friends. working on a new fic. blupcretia parent trap au, and here is a bit that may or may not eventually be the first chapter of it!

When Barry got a message from Lucretia, he had absolutely no idea how to respond. He was so angry with her, and he didn't understand why she was reaching out. Didn't she understand that he would have no part in her plan?

But then he listened to the message she left on his Stone- and she was in danger. And from the sound of her voice, she was in pain. And he just- he couldn't leave someone he loved in danger and in pain, even if he was angry with her. It went against his very nature. And besides, if she died, then he might never find out where she'd put the others or how to trigger their memories again. He still wasn't really sure how she'd remembered the information she'd fed to Fischer.

So he went to the location she'd contacted him from, and as soon as he laid eyes on the people who had taken her, he saw red. It had been... difficult to keep control of himself recently, and in front of these people who dared to touch someone he loved? He barely wanted to maintain control.

But he did- enough to not destroy himself anyway, and he killed the people who had hurt her, and he hurried back to the place where they were keeping her, afraid and angry and upset- a real coleslaw of emotions- and when he reached the door to her cell, his mind went absolutely blank as a new emotion swarmed him, overwhelming all the others for a second- shock.

Because Lucretia was chained to the wall on the other side of the cell, exposing her stomach- her very obviously pregnant stomach.

His mind whipped up a new coleslaw of emotions at the sight, but before he could react in any way, Lucretia spoke.

“Barry!” She sobbed his name more than said it, and that made a sharp pain lance through his heart.

“Lucretia,” he responded, hurrying to her side now that he’d gotten his wits together enough to realize that he needed to get her out of here.

Another flash of rage as he broke her chains because who tied up a pregnant woman? It was just barbaric really.

“What’s wrong, Lucretia? What do you need?” Barry asked, because he couldn’t talk about his anger at her actions when she was in this state, so it was better to focus on what he could do instead of staying frozen.

“I- I think the baby’s coming,” Lucretia said, sending a jolt of adrenaline down Barry’s spine.

“Shit, okay. Um, do you have a healer or something? Someone who can help?” he asked.

Lucretia shook her head, breaths coming fast and harsh.

“Breathe, hon,” Barry said, the endearment slipping out without him meaning to say it. It was just- so hard to see his loved ones in pain, even when he was angry with them. It had always been that way for him and it was still true now.

The words seemed to help anyway, Lucretia's breath slowing marginally. He helped her to stand, but when she was up, she wouldn't let him walk her away from the cell, which he didn't understand for a moment until she made a pained noise that turned into a scream and he realized that she was having contractions.

She was having contractions because she was pregnant. His (ex?) girlfriend was pregnant. And judging by the fact that she was already in labor, then she must have already been pregnant the last time that he'd seen her, though it would have been pretty early in.

Which meant that this was his and Lup's baby too. He was going to be a father soon.

Once the contraction was over, Barry picked Lucretia up- they weren't going to get out of here very easily if she could hardly walk, and he had no idea how long she'd been in labor or how close she was to actually having the baby, so they needed to get a move on.

"We'll have to find a healer then," Barry said, trying to remember where the nearest town was from here, and if it would be large enough to have a decent selection of healers or if he should try to seek out a different nearby town.

Lucretia just nodded, teeth gritted, and Barry tried to be gentle as he carried her out of there. She'd been through some shit recently, if the fact that she was in a cell was any indication, and the shit wasn't over with yet, because she still had to push a real, actual human, or potentially, half-elf out of her body, which was not going to be a fun or easy time.

He made it to town, and ignored the way that everyone reacted in fear to the sight of him, shouting that they needed a healer. It helped that Lucretia broke her silence to assure the people around them that he wasn't a danger to her or anyone else. It didn't completely stop the fear, but it calmed it down a little, especially seeing as how he was assisting a heavily pregnant woman get to a healer. Not exactly common evil spectre behavior.

Still, the person who offered them directions seemed wary of him, watching him carefully as he brought Lucretia over to the healer’s hut. He ignored that. It didn’t matter because they’d gotten him where he needed to go.

The healer apparently specialized in pregnancies and births, and therefore was perfectly used to being woken up in the night to assist with labor, though her calm expression did falter at the sight of Barry.

She didn’t let it stick though, directing him to lay Lucretia down on a nearby cot.

“How long have you been having contractions?” she asked Lucretia, brisk and business like as she gathered supplies.

“I’m not exactly sure. A few hours?” Lucretia guessed.

The midwife nodded, and asked a few other basic questions, before moving over to Lucretia and inspecting her with her hands and eyes, getting a feel for the situation.

“And is this the proper time or are they early or late?” she asked.

“They’re a bit early,” Lucretia said, which prompted Barry to shoot her a worried look. That wasn’t good. 

Lucretia met his gaze as she continued to answer the question. “But no more than a week or so,” she assured them both.

“Can you walk? It will go easier if you can walk a bit, but if you can’t, we can handle that just fine too,” the healer said.

Lucretia nodded, leveraging herself upward and Barry moved to help her automatically because Lucretia could be too stubborn for her own good sometimes, and he didn’t want her to hurt herself or the baby because she tried to do something she actually couldn’t handle.

The baby. They were going to have a baby. There were so many things to think about with that, but for the moment, all he could do was feel.

And what he felt was his heart aching and soaring at the same time. It hurt to think about the fact that they could have had the rest of their family around for this if Lucretia hadn’t wiped their memories. It hurt to think about the fact that Lup should be here for this too, and yet she wasn’t. It hurt to think about the fact that he wasn’t sure what his relationship to the baby would be- if he would ever be able to see them, if their plans failed and they had to leave this plane and their baby behind, then what-

But at the same time- he was going to be a father. Someone he loved was giving birth to their child and that was so, so good. A tiny little life that they’d made together, with Lup. How could that be anything but happy?

He stayed with Lucretia as the labor progressed because he couldn’t leave without seeing his child. He even let her cling to him when the labor pains got too intense, because even though she’d hurt him with her actions, seeing her scream in pain with no comfort hurt too.

And eventually, the midwife announced that she could see the baby, and the end was in sight.

Lucretia focused on getting them out, and she screamed and clung to his form- one benefit of being in lich form for this was the fact that she couldn't actually hurt him like this, because she was definitely squeezing hard, not that he could blame her for that.

And then the baby was out of her and into the world and they were screaming in displeasure at being there, but the two of them couldn't be happier about it.

The midwife promptly plopped them into Lucretia's arms, which, right, Barry had read something once about skin to skin contact being important when a baby is born, so he wouldn't complain about her getting to hold their baby first. Also, she'd done significantly more work to get them here, so she'd probably earned that right, even if he hadn't been feeling very charitable about what she deserved recently.

Besides, surely she'd let him hold the baby at some point, right? Even with his currently fractured trust in her, he didn't think she'd be so cruel as to refuse him a chance to even hold his child. He wasn't sure- he didn't know how things would work with the child from this point onward, but she couldn't deny him the chance to hold them even once.

He tried to shake off the gloomy thoughts, leaning in closer to Lucretia and the baby. The baby had warm brown skin closer to Lucretia's tone than either his or Lup's, though they were still a fair bit paler than her. Barry wasn't sure how much of that was down to genetics and how much was down to the fact that they had never been exposed to sunlight before, but he hoped he'd get a chance to find out.

They were so small. And like, he knew that newborns were small, obviously, but that didn't stop his brain from working overdrive trying to just understand- how a living person could be so small? It was so far from what he was used to that he would have sworn his brain was playing tricks on him, but no matter how long he looked at them, they stayed the same. Tiny and precious.

And finally, he looked to their face, eyes closed and expression slack with relaxation now that they'd had a moment to get used to the world. He couldn't say he really saw any recognizable inherited traits in their features, but he'd always kind of thought that those comments after a baby was born were just a social nicety anyway.

Or rather, he did notice one inherited feature. The baby had tiny but recognizably elven ears. So biologically Lup's child then. Not that it mattered, because they were still his either way.

"Barry, look at them," Lucretia murmured in awe, even though he already was. It didn't bother him, really. Nothing could bother him right now, honestly.

"I know," he whispered back. "You did so good, Lucy. Job well done!"

He was still angry with her, of course, but it was buried for the moment under everything else he felt, and he had never been the kind of person to try and hold onto anger when he could avoid it anyway.

"It doesn't feel done," Lucretia said, exhaustion lining her tone. "It still hurts so much?"

"Yes, ma'am, that's gonna keep happening until you get the placenta out, and you'll certainly be sore for a while after. It'll be easier now though," the midwife assured. "Though, of course, there is always the possibility..."

She ducked back down to inspect Lucretia again, and a thought occurred to both Barry and Lucretia in the same moment. This was biologically Lup's child. And Lup was a twin. Was there any chance that...

Lucretia made another long, pained sound, her body clenching tight, and when she finished, she shoved the baby into Barry's hold to avoid accidentally squeezing them.

Despite his earlier certainty that he needed to hold his baby at some point, Barry still felt a jolt of absolute panic at suddenly having them in his arms. Irrationally, he was afraid his form would shift and he would drop them, even though accidentally letting his body phase around things and then dropping them wasn't a problem that he'd had since his earliest days of lichdom.

Still, unable to ease the fear, he sat down on the floor, figuring that at least from there, they couldn't fall very far.

It didn't take long for the midwife to confirm that yes, there was another baby arriving here today, and they repeated the process from earlier, except with Lucretia now holding tightly to what passed for a shoulder on Barry's lich form, since his hands were no longer within reach.

And then the second baby was here, and they cried, which prompted the baby in Barry's arms to cry too, and then the second baby was being held by Lucretia, and Barry stood up to take a good look at this one as well.

He still didn't like standing to hold the baby, and he wanted to make sure that this one got the actual, proper amount of skin-to-skin contact, instead of just what they'd been able to squeeze in before their twin started demanding attention, but he also didn't really want to stop holding the baby either, so he nudged Lucretia gently to the side, now that she was no longer actively in labor, and settled onto the cot beside her.

There was a decent amount of room, so he didn't feel too squished in, even while trying to give Lucretia a bit of distance, but there wasn't a lot of extra space, and he still didn't have skin to offer their child, so he curled himself closer, positioning the baby to be able to lay on him while still touching Lucretia as much as possible.

The second baby looked almost identical to the first, though Barry couldn't identify whether that was because they were actually identical, or just because they were siblings and babies don't have many particularly reliable ways of being distinguished from other babies at the best of times.

It didn't really matter, because they were here, and they were his, and he loved them so much, and how was he supposed to think to ask questions like that when he'd just experienced something so amazing?

The midwife brought over some soft strands of fabric, offering them out to the two of them.

"These will help you keep them straight in your mind. You can tie one on the left arm, one the right, on the leg and arm, write names on them when you decide, whatever helps you keep track," she explained.

"Thank you," Barry said, taking both strands because Lucretia seemed to be much too tired to offer much in the way of conversation.

Barry followed the given advice, carefully wrapping one strand around the left arm of the baby he was holding, then reaching over to swap them out and tie the other strand on the right arm of the second baby.

Lucretia didn't protest the switch, looking like she was halfway to falling asleep, and really, that was absolutely reasonable. Her arms still held the baby closely, but even that grip was softening slowly as she drifted closer and closer to sleep. That was okay. Barry would make sure she didn't drop them when she finally dropped off fully.

When her arms eventually went slack, the baby didn't move, safe in the middle of her chest, but Barry still picked them up and held them to himself anyway.

"Hi there," he whispered softly, an almost reverent quiet overtaking him. "I'm your dad."

The babies certainly couldn't understand him, though their ears twitched slightly at the sound of his voice. Mostly though, they seemed content to lay there in his arms, comfortable and certain of their safety. Not understanding the complexity of the situation that they had been born into.

Barry looked over to Lucretia, sighing softly. Today's truce would be nothing more than temporary. It couldn't be anything but, when they were both still so certain that their own plan was the best option.

Which left him wondering what would happen with the babies. Lucretia would take good care of them, he was sure, but he didn't want to leave them. He wanted to be a part of their lives, even if he couldn't go along with Lucretia's plan.

It occurred to him, briefly, that Lucretia couldn't stop him if he just took the twins and ran- but he shook the thought out of his mind before it even fully formed. He couldn't do that- couldn't steal his children's chance to know their remaining mother, and couldn't steal Lucretia's children from her just because he was scared.

They'd figure something out. For the kids, they could make something work.

[emdeedot45]

Prompt #2 and #3 - “I know it’s 2 in the morning, but do you want to…”

AND

“For you? I’d do anything.”

(Requested on Twitter)

“Matt? Matt? Matthew!” Sylvie exclaimed as she lifted her pillow and lightly thumped him with it, causing him to jolt awake. “God, you sleep like the dead.”

“What? What is it? Is it time?” he panicked, as he tried to get his bearings. He turned to the side and squinted his eyes to find Sylvie sitting on her knees beside him.

“No, it’s not time.” She said with a sigh.

“Babe, I have shift in the morning…” he said with a groan as he threw his pillow over his head.

“I know it’s 2 in the morning, but I can’t sleep. You want to go for a walk?” she asked softly. She knew it was a ridiculous request at this hour of the night, but she was uncomfortable and restless and had a million different thoughts in her mind. Maybe some fresh air would do her some good.

Matt lowered his pillow and looked up at Sylvie. She looked nervous. He didn’t blame her. Any day now their whole world was going to change. He had a lot of thoughts on his mind too. Maybe a walk at 2am was what they both needed.

“Even if I didn’t want to, I’d go anyway if it meant getting this baby out of you.” He teased as Sylvie grinned.

“You always say the sweetest things to me Matt Casey” she teased with a giggle as she quickly kissed him before moving to the end of the bed. “Now come help me tie my laces.”

Matt pulled a pair of discarded sweatpants on before walking to the end of the bed and bending down in front of his girlfriend to tie her shoelaces. This was a daily occurrence for them. At petite as her baby bump was, Sylvie still struggled to manoeuvre around it.

“Apparently walking is good for inducing labour but uh – do you think we could stop by Alberto’s for one of his double cheeseburgers?” Sylvie asked with a hopeful smile.

Matt chuckled, “I knew this was about more than a walk… but yeah, of course we can. Though you might have to suffer through the indigestion when we get back to bed.”

Sylvie shrugged, reaching her hands out for Matt to pull her up once he’d tied her laces, “I probably won’t sleep much anyway, even with the walk.” She said with a gulp before she waddled past him and out of the bedroom to get her coat.

Soon enough, Sylvie had one of her double cheeseburgers in hand and was happily munching away on it, her other arm linked through Matt’s to keep her steady. Another thing that her bump had messed with was her centre of gravity. It didn’t take much movement these days to make her stumble.

“God, this is so good. I think we might be single-handedly keeping Alberto’s in business.” Sylvie said. These cheeseburgers were the one thing she couldn’t be without over her pregnancy. Matt had made countless late night runs for them and she was eternally grateful to him for it.

“Our baby is going to be a cheeseburger addict.” Matt joked.

“There are worse things to be addicted to.” Sylvie reasoned. They walked in a steady silence for a little while as Sylvie finished her burger. There was something unexpectedly peaceful about being out in Chicago this late at night. They hadn’t strayed far from home, but far enough that they could see the skyline clearly in the distance. This was without a doubt their favourite city in the world and they couldn’t imagine raising their family anywhere else than in Chicago, in the house that they had bought and restored together.

“Thanks for coming out with me.” Sylvie said quietly.

“You know I’d do anything for you.” He insisted as she wrapped her arm tighter around his and leaned in slightly, allowing him to place a light kiss on her temple. “Any particular reason why you couldn’t sleep?” he asked curiously.

Sylvie looked down at the ground, “I was uncomfortable, it’s pretty hot tonight.” She reasoned.

Matt looked down at their attire. They were wrapped up in coats and scarfs. It definitely wasn’t hot tonight.

“You sure that’s all it is?”

“… yeah, I just—” Sylvie began before realising that there was no point holding back. They were in this parenting thing together and Matt had always been her rock. That wasn’t going to change now. “In a few days, we’re going to be parents and I know we’ve had months to prepare for it now, but I’m not sure anything could really prepare you for it.” She confessed. “So honestly? I’m pretty terrified. I could read all the parenting books in the world and still have no clue how to look after a baby. And can I love them with everything in me, but what if I still manage to screw it up?”

Matt let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding in. He and Sylvie had spent so much time preparing for the baby, that they’d never really talked about their fears regarding parenthood. They’d kept it to themselves, not wanting to ruin the excitement of it all for the other person. Right now, Matt thought he should have known better than to think Sylvie wasn’t afraid.

“I know the feeling.” He confessed quietly as Sylvie turned her head to look at him. “I didn’t exactly have a great example of a father and there’s always been this voice in the back of my mind telling me that no matter what I do, I’ll turn out like him anyway. It’s in my blood to just be a bad dad.”

“You’re not your dad, Matt." Sylvie said instantly, her heart hurting knowing that he'd been feeling this way. "Just because you share blood doesn’t mean you’re doomed to be like him. We’re responsible for our own actions. Every choice you make as a man, as a firefighter, as a partner, as a father – those are your choices, and those choices are shaped by the man that you are. And you are a good man Matt Casey. You don’t have the kind of hatred and anger inside you that your dad had.” Sylvie assured him. “You really think I would be doing this with you if I didn’t think you’d be an amazing father?”

“You think I would be doing this with you if I didn’t think you’d be an amazing mother?” he countered as they stopped walking so they could turn and look at each other. “We’ll probably always have some fears about parenting and we definitely won’t always get it right. But we’ll be doing it together, every step of the way – and I don’t think there’s anything we can’t face without each other.”

Sylvie smiled, “I agree. And I may be nervous, but the thought of the smell of a newborn and their smooth, soft skin that I’ll just want to shower with kisses and their little, tiny fingers that will wrap so delicately around mine and their eyes that will no doubt be the perfect shade of blue...” she rhymed off with a little laugh.

Matt returned her smile, “And the way their eyes will light up when you walk into a room, the way we’ll make them laugh, the way they’ll make us laugh...”

Sylvie nodded her head gently, “The excitement of having all that takes over from any fears, huh?”

“Definitely. We’re going to be good parents Sylvie. I just know it.” He assured her, and himself as his hand came to rest on the side of her stomach, feeling their baby push against his palm. God, he couldn’t wait to meet this kid. He already loved them more than anything in this world.

“Yeah. We are.” She agreed as she looped her arm through his again and started to walk on. “Maybe I will be able to get some sleep tonight after all.” She said, feeling a lot more calm. “Though not if I don’t get some—”

“One step ahead of you” Matt said as he pulled a bag of chocolate covered pretzels causing Sylvie to gasp.

“You are my hero!” she said excitedly as she took the pretzels from him. These pretzels were another one of her cravings and Matt always made sure to carry a bag of them wherever they went. “Our baby is going to be cheeseburger and a pretzel addict—oh.” She said as she stopped suddenly, her hand quickly moving to her back as her face fell.

“You ok?” he asked quickly, holding an arm out to steady her.

“Yeah, I just got this weird pain in my bac—ah.” She said again as she grasped it a bit tighter. “Maybe the baby actually hates cheeseburgers and pretzels…”

Matt looked down at their feet, “Uh… I don’t think that has to do with your food choices babe…” he said as Sylvie followed his eyeline to the pool of water at her feet.

Her water just broke.

Holy crap her water just broke.

Sylvie looked up at Matt with wide eyes. This was happening, this was really happening. It was like the universe was just waiting for them to feel better about becoming parents before they allowed this baby to make their entrance.

And truthfully, their daughter’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect. They knew they were going to be good parents, but when they held her only a few hours later, they knew for certain they would be good parents.

They knew it would be impossible not to be when they already loved her so deeply.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Of All the Places

Chapter 8

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: The town comes together to help a family hit particularly bad by the tornado. A conversation with you helps Loki come to a decision. Chapter Warnings: a lot of mutual pining A/N: I’m really excited about this story now. There’s some great things coming up! Any predictions about where I’m going with this? I’d love to hear them! Updates every Friday. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @marvelousdaydreams​ @parkastoria​ @lokistan​

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine 

You and your family had been pretty lucky in the aftermath of the tornado, but unfortunately the same could not be said for your neighbors. The family at the next farm over, the Campbells, whole barn had been blown away. Thankfully, they didn’t suffer any physical injuries, but the wound to their bank account had been decent. That’s why a bunch of people from town were pitching in to help them. In fact, they were preparing for a barn raising at the very minute, something Loki had never even imagined existed before. Actually, the whole idea of a close-knit community like this had never really occurred to him. When he was young, he wasn’t really allowed out into the streets of Asgard, and when he was old enough to decide that for himself, he’d lost his interest.

“You ready, son?” Papa asked, clapping Loki on the back.

“Indeed,” he replied, putting his hair in a low bun to keep it out of his face during the work. “Would it be odd if I said I was a little excited?”

“It is surprisingly fun,” John laughed. “But we’re actually supposed to be trying to talk you out this. You still need to take it easy. ‘Doctor’s orders.’”

He nodded in your direction where you were talking with your friends. Even though you seemed happy, you kept throwing little worried glances at Loki. The whole ordeal with tornado was nearly a week ago, but it seemed to have made you nervous for Loki’s health again. He would have thought that his agility and speed would have reassured you, but it actually did the opposite. You kept insisting that he may have re-injured something and not even noticed. You sent another nervous look his way, but your gaze lingered a little longer, noticing his hairstyle. Half the reason he ever wore it this way was because of how much you obviously liked it.

Mr. and Mrs. Campbell made a little speech thanking everyone for coming out, and then the work began. It was slow moving at first, what with having to get the main supports up soundly and all, but soon the pace picked up. By the time they were working on the roof, Loki could feel the energy of the mortals around him had dropped considerably. Being the god that he was, though, he was tireless enough to finish the barn on his own. Of course, he couldn’t tell anyone that, especially when Papa kept insisting he take a break.

All the girls, and a few guys too, were marveling over Loki’s uncanny strength. He was by no means the most ripped man there, but he was certainly the strongest. Everyone was impressed by just how much he could lift, and he delighted in the general shock the crowd had. And now that he’d shown just how strong he was, people had certainly started paying attention to his muscles, which were there, mind you, but just too lean to notice at first glance. He didn’t much care for any of those stares, though, unless they coming from you. Alas, you’d left a little while ago to help Ana with Matt. Now, however, you were coming back, and Loki redoubled his efforts to show off. Especially because it seemed that Denzel had the same idea. Loki couldn’t even think that man’s name without rolling his eyes.

“Hey,” you said, walking up to Loki and offering him some trail mix, a Midgardian snack he was surprisingly fond of. “I thought you might need some refreshments. Have you eaten anything all day?”

“Do not worry. I have been taking care of myself,” he replied, setting down a pile of wood. “Still, you have my thanks, darling.”

“No problem.” You looked down at your feet as you kicked a rock, building up the confidence to say your next sentence. “I, uh, I really like your hair like that, by the way. It looks good.”

Loki’s face took a crimson shade yet again, and he couldn’t help but smile. The effect you had on him always made him feel a wild mix of emotions. On the one hand, the reaction bothered him to no end. On the other, he was just used to it at his point.

“Is that so,” he said as if he hadn’t already figured it out. “Perhaps I should wear it this way more often then.”

“Oh! You don’t have to. I mean, of course you can if you want to. But I didn’t mean that you had to or anything. Wear it how you like it.” He smirked at your flustered babbling. “Ana, Matt! Can we have some of that water?”

He chuckled at how you had to call them over to save you from your embarrassment, something he found rather adorable. Now that he’d admitted his feelings to himself, he kept finding little things about you to obsess over. Today, it was apparently how cute you are when you’re nervous.

“You really should drink more, being out in the heat all day like this,” you told him, going back into doctor mode.

“What would I do without you,” he teased.

“Loki!” Matt cheered upon reaching him. “I wanna help build too!”

“Now, now Matt. What did mommy say?” Ana asked the boy.

“Mommy said no,” he replied with a little frown. “But Loki didn’t say no!”

“I am sorry, little one. You must listen to your mother,” Loki said, picking the child up. “One day when you are bigger and stronger you will get to help.”

“But will you still be here, Loki?”

The boy’s question gave him a pause. Would he still be there? Did he want to be? It was impossible to answer that first question, considering he couldn’t see the future. Plus, he was in constant danger of being found out and having to run. But that second question he knew the answer to. Something about this small town had charmed him, and being asked right now, he would say he never wanted to leave. He wondered if he would always feel that way, though. Looking into your eyes, he was pretty sure he would.

“I truly do not know, but I would very much like to be.”

“Yay!” Matt exclaimed, throwing his tiny arms around Loki.

Ana chuckled at the child’s excitement while you smiled warmly at Loki. Even though he’d already told you how he felt about this place, your eyes went wide at the fact he’d so boldly declare it to everyone. He only wished he could be so bold when it came to declaring his feelings for you.

Soon, he was back at work helping to build the barn. Unfortunately, John and Papa were up on the roof, and Loki knew very few other people there. So, when Denzel struck up a conversation with him, there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

“So,” Denzel said, “You been seeing a doctor about this memory loss of yours. ‘Cause, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned, but I’m a-”

“Doctor,” Loki cut him off, gritting his teeth. “Yes, I know. It has been mentioned. Several times. But what kind of doctor, may I ask?”

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “I’m a pediatrician.”

“I see. A noble profession, indeed. Though I am guessing you are not the best equipped to handle my amnesia, hmm?”

“No, I guess not. But I could definitely recommend someone.”

“I do appreciate it,” Loki confessed, though he suspected there were underlying reasons for Denzel’s concern. Namely, having Loki out of the way so he could get to you easier. “But everything is alright for now. I shall let you know if the situation changes.”

“Ok then.”

They lapsed into silence as they picked up more wood for construction, Denzel seeming a little shocked by just how much Loki was able to carry. Which definitely wasn’t even more than he had previously been taking just to intimidate the man.

“Hey, listen,” Denzel said while they helped work to make the walls, nodding in your direction. “Guy to guy, have they mentioned me at all?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact they have. I do not think you will like it, though.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I am afraid so.”

“Well, I guess that just means I’ve gotta work twice as hard to show them how serious I am about wanting them back.”

“Yes, I do suppose- Wait! No,” Loki said, not having expected that to be his answer. “I do not think that is in your best interest.”

“Oh, really? Are you sure you don’t think it’s in your best interest?”

“I do not know what you are talking about.”

“So then you’re fine with me asking them out?”

“Only if you are fine with being rejected.”

They stood glaring at each other until they were able to move to work on separate sections. Loki was desperately trying to not feel so jealous and anxious. After all, you’d explicitly said that you did not want to be with Denzel, but there was still that little bit of uncertainty. Perhaps you’d changed your mind and decided to give him a second chance.

“You alright there, son?” Papa asked, coming down from the roof.

“You better not pass out,” John added, following close behind. “You know we’re going to be the ones who get in trouble if you do.”

“I assure you, I am fine,” Loki replied, trying not to sound too sad. He was failing. “You need not worry.”

“Oh, I bet I know what this is about. I saw you talking with Denzel.”

“No, nope,” Loki shushed, putting up a finger. “Go no further, please.”

“Ok, fine, whatever you say. Just thought you might want to know that the Campbell’s are planning a little thank you party tonight. It would be the perfect chance to tell a certain someone how you feel.”

“Reckon you ever went to a barn dance in your past life?” Papa asked.

Loki’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. He’d never heard of anything like it on Asgard, though he could fathom what it was due to the rather self-explanatory name. It was a thrilling prospect to go to it, considering he’d only ever been to uptight, boring balls. As a child, he’d stir up some mischief to make things more interesting, but he’d always get a serious scolding from his father. Not to mention Thor was the center of attention more often than not.

“I do not believe I would have, though I am looking forward to the opportunity now,” Loki shared as they set back work again.

The rest of the day went much the same, and though he didn’t get to spend as much time with you as he would have liked, Loki had quite a bit of fun with John and Papa. His attachment to you all was rather dangerous, as was the fact that he cared it was. At least he was able to mask his emotions, much like he was so adept at doing before this whole ordeal.

By dinnertime, the barn was completed and only a select few remained to help set up for the party. Your family, however, went the short distance back home to freshen up after helping out all day. Well, Matt didn’t help much. Instead he just romped and played, though it could be argued he helped by brightening everyone’s day. Regardless, after changing your clothes you were all ready to set out again. Loki did a double take as he walked out onto the porch; you looked more beautiful than ever before. He always thought you looked amazing, but standing there in the fading light of day, it struck him anew.

“You know, Loki,” John said, putting his hands on the god’s shoulders and speaking low enough that you couldn’t hear him. “A friendly word of advice, you should just go for it.”

“But-”

“No more ‘buts’ mister,” Ana reprimanded as she walked up and passed her son to her husband. “I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but you two need to stop being oblivious dorks and make a move already. No offense.”

“None taken, I suppose,” he said, though it wasn’t wholly true. Him an oblivious dork? Nonsense, not the God of Mischief. “Though I still must insist that I do not know to what any of you are referring. Hypothetically, if I did, do you really believe I have a chance?”

“Yes. And a very good one at that.”

They left Loki mull over his thoughts. When they passed you, you finally turned around and saw Loki standing there, his now loose hair slightly wavy from having been up all day. He was frozen like stone under your tender gaze, afraid of his emotions and unable to take what Ana and John had said to heart. It wasn’t until your smile faltered a little at his expressionless trance that he was able to move out of the doorway.

“My darling, I hope you know how radiant you look this evening,” he told you, a light blush coating his cheeks, still so pale even after so many days out in the sun.

“It’s nothing special, really,” you said with a nervous laugh. “But thank you all the same.”

“My pleasure.”

His fingers brushed against yours and on instinct you intertwined them. He brought your hand to his mouth, lips ghosting over your knuckles, reminding him of that day when he apologized to you. He’d performed the same action back then. With time and perspective, he realized that was the day he was pushed completely off the edge and into love with you. You took a step closer, your bodies nearly pressed against each other. The warmth radiating off of you gave the frost giant a pause, your hands still clasped together, now semi-awkwardly hovering near his head.

“Hey Loki,” you began as he quirked an eyebrow to urge you on. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage and leaning in. “I... I... I-”

“I suppose we should be on our way now,” Mama announced, coming out of the house.

You sheepishly broke apart and agreed with her, your small group heading over to your neighbor’s. Upon arrival, Loki noted how it was even more lively than earlier, which was really saying something. It seemed that everyone who came by during the day to help with the build was back now, and the whole place was a hubbub of activity. Your friends were quick to whisk you away into the thick of it, and seeing as how everyone else had left before you, Loki was now left alone with Mama.

“You can go if you want,” she said. “I’m not much for crowds.”

“I must confess, I am not either.”

“I see.”

Despite having come to some kind of agreement, the air between them was still tense. The past week had been filled with a lot of throat clearing and stiff conversation. Somehow, he preferred the snippy and snide remarks from the woman. They were, at least, a lot less gawky than what their interactions were now. Thankfully, they were saved from the stilted small talk by food. As it turned out, they were both quite a fan of apple pie, and Mrs. Campbell made a mighty good one.

Eventually, Papa sought them out in the crowd and did a bit of a double take to see them amicably chatting. He ushered them inside to where you and the rest of your family were standing just as the dancing was about to begin.

“Pardon me, darlin’,” Denzel said, tapping you on the shoulder. He bowed down a little and put out his hand as Loki rolled his eyes. “May I have this dance?”

“Oh! I would love to, really, but I already promised Loki,” you said turning to him. “Shall we then?”

“We shall,” Loki replied, beaming.

Of course, the two of you had not planned on dancing together, but he was preening under the lie you’d told to your ex. The fact that you chose him completely unprompted made his heart grow wings and soar above the clouds. As for the dance, it was easy enough to follow the caller’s directions. This was the first time Loki had ever danced so causally, but his nimble feet, which were much more accustomed to waltzes and other Asgardian dances, were able to catch on rather quickly. It didn’t take him long to determine the square dance was his favorite one of the night.

After a couple more hours of dancing and avoiding Denzel, you and Loki snuck off, not before making a quick stop to thank your hosts, of course. The two of you went to your own family’s barn and climbed up to the loft, settling down in the plushy blankets and pillows you kept up there for chilly nights such as this. The conversation stayed light for a while, but it inevitably took a turn toward more serious topics.

“I was asking around today,” you said. “I’m so sorry, Loki, but no one had any clue who you were.”

“It is ok, do not concern yourself with this. If I did not know any better, I would say you were trying to get rid of me.”

“I’m really not, I swear,” you said, chewing your bottom lip, though Loki had been fully teasing. “No one is anymore, really.”

“Are you sure about that?” he inquired, thinking of Denzel.

“Why did someone say something to you?”

“No. It is like I said, do not worry.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as you snuggled further into his side, desperate to keep the cold away. He put his arms around you and squeezed you tighter, saying a little heating enchantment in his head.

“You know, I think James would’ve liked you,” you decided, eyelids beginning to droop.

“Perhaps. But...”

“Yes?”

“But there is still so much we do not know about me. What if have done something terrible?”

“While I’m sure you haven’t, let’s say you did do something you’re not proud of,” you indulged him. “The only thing stopping us from having a present we can enjoy and a future we can love, is a past we can’t forget.”

“Well, I do not remember, anyway. But what if it is really bad?”

“All I mean is, you have to be able to forgive. To let go.”

He could hear in your tone that you were thinking of your brother. As much as he did not want to admit it, Loki would have been upset had Thor died. He could only imagine the pain you felt when you’d heard the news. But he supposed you were able to forgive whoever it was whose irresponsibility had led to James’s death. It was yet another thing to admire about you, for sure.

“I suppose you are right.”

“Yeah, I am,” you agreed, finally letting your tired head drop and nuzzling into his shoulder.

He brought you down to a more comfortable position, laying down with your head on his chest, letting his heart beat wildly in your ear. Lying awake, he thought back to what he’d said earlier about wanting to stay forever. Lingering in the back of his mind was always the knowledge that he most likely would not be able to. If he were, though, would he still want to? A large part of himself still wanted to loathe the domestic simplicity of this life. In a way, being so far removed from everything, living high up in palace towers, was easier. Still, he could not find it in himself to dislike this quaint town with charming people. Plus, there was you.

The little sigh of contentment that you made as he hugged you closer let him completely make up his mind. This was where he wanted to stay, this is what he wanted, and he’d do everything he could to make sure he got to keep it.

“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered, placing a small kiss to your forehead. “Sleep well.”

[daresplaining]

Hi, I have a question! I've been chatting with a friend about Matt's meditation, and I was wondering if you know of any comics that explain what his meditation actually involves. To me, the show suggests that his meditation involves reliving past mistakes, but that doesn't seem conducive to physical healing (aside from whatever mysticism may be involved) and I don't know if that's based in the comics at all anyway. Thanks!

    Hi! That’s a great question. You’re right, reliving past mistakes sounds like a terrible way to meditate. I don’t remember getting that impression from MCU Matt, but it’s been two years now since I last watched the show so it’s very possible I’m forgetting.

    In the comics, Matt uses meditation mainly for coping with sensory issues. Often, this means managing pain.

[ID: A panel from Bendis’s run showing Matt sitting cross-legged on a wood floor with his hands together in front of his chest. He is unclothed apart from underwear and bandages around his stomach. There are a bunch of lit candles on the floor in front of him, and behind him is a low bed in which an obscured figure (Milla Donovan) is sleeping. There are red burn marks on Matt’s face.]

Daredevil vol. 2 #48 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

    Here’s Matt meditating after being set on fire by Typhoid Mary. (For someone with a super-sensitive nose, I’ve always questioned the number of candles he’s got going here). Based on Matt’s comments, the meditation doesn’t actually diminish the pain, but it seems to allow him to get enough of a mental grip on it to function in spite of it. 

[ID: A panel from Bendis’s run. Matt is in a dimly-lit room, putting on his Daredevil costume. Milla is behind him.]

Milla: “But your hands-- the burns--”

Matt: “I-- Don’t worry, Milla. I have-- I have training and meditations-- I can control the pain.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #49 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

[ID: More panels from Bendis’s run. Matt is sitting up in bed and Milla is sitting on the side of the bed. Both are mostly naked and the background is in shadow.]

Milla: “Foggy and Ben [...] said you got up, got in a cab, followed them right in here and lied down.”

Matt: “Wow, I don’t remember that at all. What day is it?”

Milla: “It’s been a week or so. But look at you. You were totally out of it, and now you’re--”

Matt: “That’s how I trained my body. My sensei trained us to ‘accept the pain and to then let it go when its time is done.’”

Milla: “You don’t hurt anymore?”

Matt: “No, I hurt a lot. But I’m done with it. I have other things to do now.”

Milla: “‘You’re done with it.’”

Daredevil vol. 2 #59 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

    You’ll notice that all of these examples so far have been from Bendis’s run. That’s because Matt doesn’t actually meditate on-panel that often, and it’s pretty concentrated to within just a few runs.

    There’s also an element of hand-wavy reiki involved in Matt’s meditation, and some writers suggest that he can--  to a very minor degree-- actually speed up his healing via chi manipulation/mental willpower. 

[ID: Excerpt from Nocenti’s Daredevil run. Daredevil is lying on the ground, surrounded by tall grass. Everything is depicted in minimalistic shapes and yellow and black lines against a white background.]

Stick (off-panel): “Pump that heart! Breathe in! Breathe out! Heal those cuts! Seal them up! I said beat!”

[ID: Stick whacks Daredevil with his staff. Daredevil wakes up.]

Stick: “Good! Now keep it beating. Nice and steady. That bone in your right leg needs setting-- shift it back! You hear me? Beat! Beat! Beat! Pump that heart!”

Matt: “No! Go away!”

Stick: “Listen to me, boy! This is Stick talking! Trust me! Now heal those bones!”

Matt: “I don’t wanna heal!”

Stick: “Keep beating! You’ve got to mend. You’ve got to live.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #262 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita Jr., and Christie Scheele

[ID: Excerpt from Soule’s run. Daredevil, seen from behind, is sitting cross-legged on a rocky, mountaintop surrounded my mist. Stick walks up behind him.]

Stick: “What the hell are you doing up here, kid?”

Matt: “I’m doing what you taught me to do, Stick. Meditating, centering myself, drawing on my natural energies to accelerate the healing process.”

Stick: “Sounds like a bunch of hippie-dippie crap. This isn’t what I taught you.”

Daredevil vol. 5 #609 by Charles Soule and Phil Noto

    Matt certainly doesn’t have a healing factor in the traditional sense, but this sends us into that grey area surrounding Matt’s training. Fully trained members of the Chaste and the Hand have all kinds of healing powers, resurrection powers, etc. but Matt is far from fully trained. However, he did kind of bring Elektra back to life through sheer love and desperation that one time, and it’s not inconceivable for him to have some slim grasp of those powers that might allow him to heal a tiny bit faster than normal. I wouldn’t put it on a list of his superpowers, but it’s worth mentioning since it has come up a few times. 

    Matt also frequently has issues with general sensory overload, and he has been shown to use meditation to cope with that as well. Here’s an example from the Captain Universe mini-series, in which Matt gets possessed by the cosmic Uni-Power and his already-acute hypersenses are boosted to an unbearable intensity. He does the only thing he can do in that situation: he sits right down where he is and tries to manage the input.

[ID: Daredevil is sitting cross-legged on a rooftop, surrounded by sound effects and snippets of dialogue.]

Uni-Power: “Do not be afraid, Matthew Murdock. I am known as the--”

Matt: “Quiet! Please, I need to concentrate.”

[ID: Time passes, the sun drops toward the horizon behind him, and gradually the sounds fade.]

Captain Universe #2 by Jay Faerber, Juan Santacruz, and Rus Wooton

    While Matt doesn’t meditate on-panel all that often, he does do other things that could be considered meditative. There are many different ways to enter that calm mental state, and one method is through mindless, repetitive action. We often see Matt working out, doing acrobatics or punching a heavy bag. Obviously he does this because being in-shape is important to him and he enjoys it, but it also seems to help him think (in Volume 3 #35, Matt mentions that he’s mentally at his sharpest when he’s sparring, and I’d say the continuity bears that out) and also helps him relax/focus. Even his Daredevilling might serve this purpose for him. We know that in addition to pure superhero work, he also swings around the city for fun and for his mental health, and he’s so good at it that I could imagine him managing to get into a zenlike state. It wouldn’t be the safest way to meditate, but this is Matt we’re talking about. 

    If you’re asking about the actual mental process Matt goes through in his meditation, I can’t think of an occasion where we’ve been given that kind of detailed information. It usually involves clearing your mind or focusing on one specific thing to the exclusion of all else, and I haven’t seen any evidence to suggest Matt does it differently-- though presumably it involves an extra element of tuning out all of that additional sensory information, which is fascinating to think about. 

[girlinthepictureframe]

The Briefest Kiss Part 16

Present Day

By the time Alex made it back to his apartment, his already miserable day had made it to the top spot on his list of worst days ever. As he kicked off his shoes, he slammed the door of his apartment shut and decided that, for now, life could fuck it for a while.

He was beat. He was exhausted. He was emotionally drained. The last weeks had been a single, never-ending turmoil of emotions. After having spent the night with Miles in that hotel near Sheffield, after having been ready and willing to admit to all of his heart’s desires and after having messed it up by having been too much of a coward to break up with his girlfriend before doing so, Alex had tried to get his chaotic life in order.

He’d gone at it full of energy and conviction.

He’d looked at his life and asked himself what it was that he really, truly wanted.

And the answer had been as clear as an answer could possibly be.

Miles.

But if he wanted to be with Miles, he had to be brave and take a few leaps. And Alex had wanted to take that leap. He had broken up with Louise on the same day that Miles had walked out of that hotel room. He had spilled his heart to his mom. He had confessed his feelings to his band. He had cleaned house, so to say. He had done what needed to be done. And then he’d been on his way to the airport to head straight to Miles. But, as he’d come to expect as of late, life was a cruel bitch. His flight had gotten canceled. He’d been forced to wait another day for the next one.

And because he’d been nervous and excited and unwilling to spend the night alone in an empty apartment, afraid his thoughts might get the better of him, he’d gone out with Matt and a few other friends from his time in Los Angeles. It had been a nice and fun night out. He’d even calmed down. Hell, he’d become fucking confident that he was on his way to doing the right thing.

Until she had taken a seat next to him.

Yesterday

“Fancy meeting you here,” Taylor said and clinked her glass against his as she sat down.

Every time he was in LA, Alex expected to run into her. They knew the same people, visited the same spots, but now that she was there, it still startled him. He heard in her voice that she was anything but happy to see him and he was extremely tempted to get up and leave. However, he had been an asshole the last time they had spoken and these days, he was trying hard not to be an asshole anymore. So he settled for politeness. “Taylor. Long time.”

“Not long enough.”

So walk away! The words sat on the edge of his tongue, but he bit them back. “How are you these days? Are you well?”

“Splendid.” Her single word was followed by a prolonged moment of silence. Then she turned to face him. “So, there’s a rumor going around. You and your friend are done with each other. There hasn’t been a picture of the two of you in months. Did he break up with you?”

Did he what? Alex was on the verge of asking for clarification when Miles’ confession of their poolside argument echoed in his head. He chuckled. “You know, he told me about your fight that day. Came clean about what he said to you. He lied. He and I…not then—” The words died on his lips as he suddenly wondered how she knew that there were no pictures of them. Had she looked for pictures?

First of all, he’d really like to understand why people believed his entire life was caught on camera! Only a tiny little bit actually was. And most of the images that existed of him were images he’d okayed. He may be a rock star but he was far from being a royal. Or a boy bander. He could leave the house and not cause a riot. He could go to clubs and remain unrecognized. And he had been out with Miles so often that it bordered on laughable what little the cameras had actually caught of it.

And second of all, pictures or not, it really wasn’t any of her business anymore! “He and I—”

“I’m not surprised, to be honest,” Taylor interrupted. “You’re not meant for everlasting love, Turner. You get bored by your own music, for Christ’s sake. You’re restless on tour, you feel trapped at home, you feel cornered in relationships. And even when you’re alone and free to do as you please, you still wither. You’re a fucking mess and anyone who will ever get close to you, will end up wishing they had never met you!”

That hurt. And it certainly made him rethink his reluctance about being an asshole. “Don’t hold back, Taylor. Tell me how you really feel!” he sneered.

“You were the worst thing that ever happened to me,” she told him.

Despite his feelings for Miles, Alex had genuinely cared for his ex and had maybe even been a little in love with her. To hear her brush off with such vitriol what he considered to be some fond memories made him show his teeth. “Miles and I didn’t break up, if you so desperately wish to know. On the contrary. And,” he added, letting his voice drop deridingly low, “unlike you, he actually knows how to take me.”

Her eyes widened and he saw the flash of hurt. He should care. He really should. He bloody couldn’t bring himself to!

“That was nasty,” bit Taylor. “Enjoy it, then. Enjoy it until the inevitable happens. You’ll be the ruin of him. You’ll dry out his heart. You’ll drain his soul. And you’ll drag him along long after all the light has left his eyes ‘cause you’re too much of a fucking loser to call it quits when it’s time! And if you wonder how I know, it’s because you’ve done it to me.” She grabbed the glass, tossed her drink into his face and walked away.

Present Day

Alex had spent the roughly twenty hours, between checking in at LAX and arriving home in London and being startled by his neighbor with the backpack, thinking about Taylor’s words. For a few hours he’d been able to ignore the truth in them. Halfway across the Atlantic, however, he couldn’t deny it anymore.

She had a point.

He’d never been good with relationships. He’d been selfish for as long as he could remember. He had always come and gone without ever asking how his partners felt about it. And it had never mattered to him what would happen once his time with somebody had ended because he’d never cared enough to remain friends with them.

But his friendship with Miles meant the world to him. To lose Miles would be to lose his heart and his soul at the same time and he couldn’t let that happen. There was a reason Miles was so worried about losing him as a friend, too. Even if Miles had equal feelings for him, and even if Miles had a hunch about Alex’s feelings for him, Miles still worried about their friendship. And it couldn’t be a coincidence that he kept reminding him that anything more than a friendship could and most likely would ruin them.

As the plane began to enter British airspace, Alex had made a decision. He loved Miles too much to risk losing him. And if that meant settling for a friendship, then that was what he would do. And Miles would never have to know, for it would be most unfair to him to burden him with the knowledge of it all.

The one thing Alex hadn’t considered, though, was Miles finding out the truth by an unforeseeable twist of fate.

Alex fell backwards onto his mattress and crossed his arms over his face. How could he not have recognized that bloody notepad back in Sheffield? Amongst all the notepads in his shelf, this was the only yellow one and he knew he’d written that fucking letter onto a yellow page. He’d seen the damn notepad laying on the ground next to Miles on that day he’d come to visit him. He’d seen it and not made the connection!

And now?

Now Alex knew for a fact that the person he loved actually loved him back, yet wholly agreed that love was not all they needed — Beatles be damned! — otherwise they’d be together right this very moment.

Completely exhausted and tired out of his mind, Alex fell asleep and didn’t wake up before noon the next day. Then he went to the bathroom, drank a glass of water, and returned to bed. Fuck the world for now, he thought, and pulled the blanket back over his head.

It took another twenty-four hours, a two shots of Tequila, falling in and out of sleep and at last a few ignored rings of his doorbell for Alex to venture back into life. Coming to a halt in front of the mirror, he leaned forward, inspected his reflection and squinted in disgust. God, he’d gotten old since last week! “Zombies look better,” he muttered as he reached for the shaving cream. Once done with that, he headed for a thorough shower and after that tried himself at consuming actual food. His stomach rumbled hungrily as he pulled the fridge open, only to find it empty. “Fuck.”

About to head out, he grabbed his jacket, but before he could begin to search for his wallet – God knows where he put that one! – a persistent knocking came from his door. He opened it.

“I’m not a postal worker!” Mrs. Finch pushed a small brown packet into his arms and vanished back into her apartment.

Alex shook his head in bewilderment, looked at the sender, then quickly tore the packet open. It contained an unboxed, fully loaded iPhone and a letter.

“I’m in France right now, preparing for my show. All’s well. I’d have told you that on the phone but you never called! I assume you also neglected to get yourself a new phone. So I got you one. And you better appreciate that, since I’m about to send this to you via priority overnight express mail from France and that shit is expensive! Call me. After all, what’s the point of remaining emotionally and sexually frustrated if we don’t make the most out of this friendship thing? By the way, there’s not a single appropriate way to sign off this letter and not have it come across as ridiculous. I mean it, call me! —M.”

He took the phone and called him. Miles picked up after a single ring. “I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that you know me this well,” spoke Alex as he sat down at his dinner table, scratching his head. He skipped right past introductions and pleasantries. “It’s weird, don’t you think?”

“You’re just now figuring out that you and I are weird?” Miles snorted. “Just roll with it. It’s what I’m doing. My show was great, by the way. Thanks for not asking. Zack was there. Told me to say hi to you since you can no longer be reached by anyone.”

Alex listened as Miles was giving him a rundown of his last two days and even though he usually enjoyed listening to him as he jumped from story to story, rarely ever stopping for air, today was different. The last days’ events still clung to his bones and dragged down his mood. “Why are you talking to me as if everything between us is fine?” he asked, interrupting Miles.

A pause. Miles’ voice faltered slightly. “What’s the point of being all freaked out and awkward? I’m in love with you. That’s a fact. It won’t go away. But you didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know already when you said we’re not made for a relationship. We’re friends. I think we might even be stronger friends than ever before. Think about it, Al. Everything is finally out in the open. It is what it is. And we must make the best of it. Else there’s no reason to do it at all.”

“So we just pretend there’s nothing there?” Alex couldn’t do that. He knew he couldn’t be with Miles. His head had all the reasons for that neatly listed in alphabetical order. But his heart was still in chaos and that traitorous thing had yet to figure out how to be okay with being no more than friends. “I can’t do that, Miles.”

“Neither can I, Alex. We just accept that it’s there. And we’ll try.”

“That will work?” He had his doubts.

Miles chuckled softly. “For somebody who gave me such a rousing speech about the value of our friendship, you’re bloody hesitant right now. Give it a chance, Al. Don’t hide from me.”

“I wasn’t going to,” he protested. Well, maybe for a few days, just until his heart calmed down and his head took back over operations.

“Zack rented a huge mansion in France. He’s invited a bunch of us to come for a big barbecue next week. Will you come? We’ll arrive in the morning, stay the night, party a bit. Just like we used to do, in the old days. Fun days. Remember? When we were young and innocent?”

Alex heard the amusement in his friend’s voice and grinned. “You were never innocent! And I’m still young! Alright. I’ll be there.” Even though the idea of seeing Miles made him nervous. “I should give Zack a call.”

“And your parents,” Miles told him. “Your dad DM’d me on Twitter. That was odd!”

Having no idea what Miles had just said to him, Alex nonetheless knew that it was time he let his parents hear his voice, let them know he was still alive and well. “I’ll do that first. What are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“Get back to sleep,” Miles said and yawned. “I’ve been bloody tired lately!”

“You’re still in bed? What are you wearing?”

Miles laughed hard. “Dirty, Alex. Real dirty!”

Thank God Miles was in another country and couldn’t see the bright red color his face now sported. “I meant to ask you,” Alex reiterated, using a wiser selection of words, “are you wearing that pajama I gave you? I know I had your Christmas gift sent to you a while ago and you’ve yet to comment on it.”

Miles was still laughing. “I am wearing it. Feels perfect. Well done, Turner. You did very good with the gift.”

“You have yet to give me that big box that contains my birthday present,” Alex pointed out, venturing towards steadier topics of discussion and away from the emotional ones.

“It’s in a very big box,” explained Miles. “And you have yet to come pick it up. I would send it to you, but you know how I feel about shipping costs these days. They are ridiculously high, it’s bordering on rude!”

Now Alex laughed. Miles had no problem whatsoever to splurge on shoes and guitars. But a simple UPS pricing list could ruin his day. “How about I just go and pick it up today?” It’s not like he had any other plans. “Where did you put the box?”

“Guest room. On the bed. You really can’t see past it,” chuckled Miles. “Call me before you unwrap it. I want to listen to you when you do!”

Alex rolled his eyes and hung up.

Later that day, a little past seven, Alex let himself into Miles’ apartment, closed the door and got homey. He kicked his shoes off, tossed his jacket away and went straight to the small wooden box nestled between old Beatles vinyls and spare guitar strings where Alex knew he’d find some cookies.

He licked his lips, opened the box and cursed. “Shopping, Kane! Bloody try it some time!” He muttered a few bad words as he shut the lid of the empty box, padded into the kitchen and pulled the fridge open. Empty. More cursing. Alex walked back into the living room, put his shoes and jacket back on and left.

He returned half an hour later, a big bag of groceries in his arms. Shoes and jacket were tossed anew, he slammed the door shut behind him and headed for the fridge. He was in the midst of stocking it with edible items when his phone rang.

“Did you go pick up the gift?” Wondered Miles. “I haven’t heard from you again.”

“I’m at your place right now. I would have called a while ago, but I had to leave again and buy some bloody food!”

“There was food,” Miles pointed out, a bit peevish. “A big bag of carrots. In the freezer. And fish as well!”

Carrots weren’t food. They were a necessary evil. “I’m talking bread, Mi. And cheese. And eggs. Food.”

“Why are you eating at my place anyway?”

“‘Cause I forgot to do my own grocery shopping,” he muttered. All items were in the fridge and he closed the door. “Guest room, you said?” He made his way there, opened it and gaped. “Is that my gift?” A huge smile lit up his face. “The yellow color is sick, Miles! Wow!”

“What yellow…?” He heard Miles swear. “No, bloody stay away it! Do you hear me? That’s my Fender! I have yet to play with it myself. Found it at an old antiquities store. Owner had no idea why I'd want a shabby old guitar. I had it restored and it arrived just before I left. I just ordered a set of vintage strings so it’ll sound just right.”

“It is a piece of beauty,” hushed Alex in awe. “Oh Miles, it's magnificent!” His fingertips gently stroked the fretboard. It hummed back at him.

“Hands off,” yelled Miles all the way back from France.

“Relax, will you? You’ll get a heart attack if you get all riled up. Then what?” Alex smirked. “On the other hand, if something happened, all of your guitars would become mine…”

“Oh, you wish,” said Miles. “Would you focus on what you came for? It’s the big square box on the bed.”

Alex gave the guitar a coy wink. “I’ll come back for you!”

“I can hear you!” griped Miles.

Alex chuckled and finally directed his attention towards the box. “Splurged on wrapping paper, huh?”

“For you? Always.”

Grinning, Alex tugged the bow apart, took off the lid of the big box and promptly dropped the phone. He picked it back up after a moment. “I hate you.”

“Anything in there that you love in particular?” Miles was laughing hard right now. “It’s a colorful selection of their best products.”

Alex dug through layers of loofahs, ventured past a variety of bath salts and had to cough when he smelled the scented candle before he felt it. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “I don’t believe this!” He felt something small and flat and pulled it out. And then he was laughing as well. “A comb with my name on it?”

“Had it engraved for you. Happy belated birthday.”

“Be honest with me, Mi. Did you really go there by yourself and buy a shopping cart full of items to fill this giant box?”

“They delivered. Box included,” Miles admitted.

“I need a suitcase to get all of this to my place!” He shook his head, taking a quick inventory of it all. Although…the soap bar smelled nice. And he would definitely try that fancy shampoo.

“You’ll like it, don’t you!”

“I love the comb.” And the loofah, but Miles didn’t need to know that. “I would trade the rest of it for the Fender.” His eyes wandered from the box, across the large room, which Miles mostly used for storage, until they landed on that bright yellow piece of impeccable elegance and solid engineering. His fingers itched to play it. “She’s quite a sexy little thing!”

“Stop flirting with my guitar, will you?!”

“You’re not here! Whom else am I supposed to flirt with?” He noticed the amp in the corner of the room and lost the fight. “Thanks for gift, baby. But I gotta go! I know you understand! Love you!”

“AL—”

Alex hung up, quickly grabbed the guitar and plugged it in. He fished a guitar pick from his pocket, switched the Fender on and strummed. A deep, low, vibrating sound filled the room and he smiled. “Glorious,” he purred.

And then it registered with him.

Baby.

Love you.

“Shit!” As much as his slip of tongue bothered him, though, it didn’t bother him enough to stop strumming. The sound! Alex was enchanted. Miles had mentioned vintage strings. They would make it sound that much more special.

So what if he had called him ‘baby’? He’d said it before. Another strum. A different chord. And he did love him. Big news! More chords. New chords. He felt his long lost inspiration slowly retake its hold on him. His fingers danced across the fretboard. He hadn’t said anything Miles didn’t know already. No need to panic. He fiddled with the amp, adjusted the sound. Another strum.

There it was.

A new melody.

Alex looked around the room frantically, couldn’t spot a single piece of paper or pen and grumbled. He put the guitar away, sprinted into the living room, grabbed a notepad from the table and hurried back. As he flipped through the pages he became cognizant of the fact that this was the very notepad which contained his letter. As kept flipping for an empty page, he spotted something else as well. Miles’ scribblings. Words, stanzas, chords and notes.

He must be working on new material, cause Alex knew that all the old lyrics inside this notepad were his. He sat down on the bed, ripped the page with Miles’ words out and flipped through the notebook again, searching for more of Miles’ handwriting. Every little piece he spotted he tore out and arranged it in front of him. Fifteen minutes later he had assembled what he assumed was most of the song that Miles had been working on. He had the greater part of the lyrics, but very little in terms of what Miles had wanted it to sound like.

He was tempted to call him but here he was, going through his unreleased words, while playing his newest guitar, while, also, hanging out and getting cosy in his apartment. All that added together would no doubt put Miles in a bad and all but helpful frame of mind.

He nibbled on his lip, took the Fender and strummed the melody which had come to him a bit ago and then he heard it. Miles’ words and chords and his melody aligned perfectly. He couldn’t stop playing it. It sounded so different, so old, yet so amazing!

-

“I have a confession to make,” announced Alex as he laid in Miles’ bed, munching on a chocolate bar and absentmindedly counting the guitar picks he was spotting all over his friend’s bedroom.

Wearing nothing but boxers and one of Miles’ shirts, Alex tugged a piece of the blanket over his bare legs. When Miles didn’t say anything, his rambled on. “I would love to say it’s not a bad thing, but it might actually be a bad thing. Are you there?”

“You played my guitar, didn’t you?”

“Miles…it’s worse than that.”

“Did you break it?” His voice sounded cold and threatening.

Alex swallowed. “Before you get mad, hear me out. And then, when I’ve said it all, you can yell at me. If need be, I’ll wait around until you get back from France so you can yell at me in person.”

“Talk.”

“I played your guitar.” He heard Miles grumble, but continued. “I got inspired. This melody came to me. I wanted to write it down, tinker with it a bit. I grabbed the yellow notepad. And spotted what I assume is a new song you’re working on. And…um…I kinda took your words and chords and added them to my melody and now it’s a song. I think it sounds really cool. Very old days. A bit Beatles-esque. But also not. Quite different from what you and I have done before. Then again, not. I’d say it’s a tiny bit Puppety. But also not. If that makes sense.”

“Let me sum this up. You stole my guitar and my lyrics. And now what?”

Alex licked the last flakes of chocolate off his fingers. “Me playing your Fender bothers you a lot more than the stolen lyrics do! It’s making you pouty! ”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alex. I’m a grown man. I’m not pouting because you played my new guitar.”

“You are pouting.”

A pause. “A little bit.”

He chuckled. “I want us to do this song together. I don’t know what it’ll be in the end but it’s been so long since we’ve done music together. It isn’t finished yet. I’m still not done with the melody. It’s missing something but I can’t put my finger on it. I need you for that. When will you be back?”

“Tomorrow night,” said Miles. “The night after that I’m leaving for Italy. I have to do an interview, it’s the only reason I’m even flying back. So I won’t have much time to work on a song with you.”

“But it’ll be enough time to hear me play it to you. Need a ride from the airport? When does your plane get here?”

“Don’t know. Sometime in the night. I’ll get a cab. Get your sleep. Can’t have you grumpy when you play my guitar.”

Alex grinned. “God, no! Go to sleep, then. I’ll see y—”

“Wait up, what did you mean when you said you could wait around for me to get back. Where, precisely, are you right now?”

“Your apartment.” He mumbled it very low.

“Alex! Have you been there since yesterday?”

“I couldn’t take your guitar with me, could I? That would have been rude!”

“You just moved in, instead?”

He didn't like the coldness in Miles' voice. “Hey, I also stocked your fridge, vacuumed the carpet and watered your plants!”

“The plants were wet and the carpet was clean!”

“I ate cookies on the floor. They crumbled.” He sighed, annoyed. Miles' dismissiveness was bothering him a lot. “The whole guitar thing is putting you in a foul mood! I’ll leave now. See you on Friday?”

“I’ll drop by as soon as I have a chance,” he said. “Hold on!” Miles added quickly. “I’m sorry, okay?” His tone was less icy than a moment ago. “I don’t mind that you’re at my place. You’re always welcome. And it’s not the guitar thing that’s putting me in a bad mood.”

“What then?” asked Alex.

“I got into an argument with Matt on the phone today. It didn't end well.”

“Helders?” Alex was stunned. “What happened?”

“Long story. I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just want you to know that it isn’t you. Play the guitar. And,” added Miles, his voice a little less somber, “I honestly can’t wait to hear what you’ve done with the lyrics. See you soon. Night, Al.”

“Night, Mi.” Alex was tempted to call Matt and ask for details. But he’d already done his share of crossing lines for the week and didn’t want to push his luck. Tossing the phone away, he switched the light off and decided to go to sleep instead.

Spoiler Part 17

Miles tsk-ed. “Are you flirting right now?”

“Trust me,” said Alex, “when I flirt, you’ll know.”

[the-observant-frisbeetarian]

Chapter 1

We’ll Meet Again by George deValier

Winter, late 1943 London, England

.

The Americans were starting to drive Arthur mad. For weeks now his London pub had been full of loud, obnoxious, carousing American servicemen on leave. They yelled, they drank, they fought occasionally, they drank, they flirted with the local girls, and they drank some more. Then they did it all over again. To begin with it was a vaguely interesting break in the same tedious old routine. By the end of the second night, Arthur had had enough.

To be honest, they were not all bad. They generally tried to be well behaved, they poured a lot of money into his pub, and after all, they were allies fighting a common enemy.

Truth be told, they weren't starting to drive Arthur mad at all.

He was.

"Hey, Art, buddy! Another bourbon here!"

Arthur looked up at the grinning blond holding his empty glass over the bar. Everything about the American irritated Arthur. The absurd bomber jacket he lived in. His perpetual grin. The way he never combed his bloody hair. And the arrogance… Arthur had not been the least bit surprised to learn he was a fighter pilot. Thought the whole bloody British Isle owed him their freedom and allegiance. Arthur gritted his teeth and snatched the glass.

"My name is Arthur. And kindly refrain from calling me your buddy." Arthur reached for the bourbon. Ghastly American stuff. He barely went through a bottle a year before the war. Since the Americans turned up, he went through a carton a night.

"All right, sorry Art. Thur." Alfred grinned. He was obviously used to getting his way with that grin… but it bloody well wasn't going to work with Arthur. "Come have a drink with us."

Arthur clenched the bottle a little too strongly as he poured it into the glass. "Thank you, but no. I'm working."

Alfred just laughed at that. "I thought you owned the damn place. Let someone else pour the drinks for a while. Take a load off."

Another irritating thing. That ridiculous accent. Alfred seemed able to stretch every word into seven syllables. Arthur suppressed his irritation, pushed the glass across the bar, and attempted to be polite. He had a reputation as a gentleman to uphold, after all. "Thank you again, but I'm afraid I'm run off my feet with all you soldiers."

"Soldiers?" Alfred gasped loudly and put a hand to his chest in mock outrage. "Why Arthur, you wound me! Don't you know that I'm…"

"The youngest flight leader in all US Army Air Fighter divisions," Arthur finished for him monotonously. "This must be the - twelfth, I believe it is - time you have informed me of the fact."

Alfred just kept grinning as he took a swig of bourbon. "Well, don't you go forgetting it and calling me a soldier. That's an insult to a man, that is."

Arthur shook his head as he glared at the American. The arrogance was unfathomable. "I do apologise," he said sarcastically. "Will you ever forgive me."

Alfred leant fervently across the bar. "Don't be like that Arthur, of course I'll forgive you!" Arthur rolled his eyes, but Alfred did not seem to notice. "Hey, I know, make it up to me by having that drink with us, yeah?"

"I already told you, I'm working." Alfred's face fell just slightly. Arthur felt the tiniest stab of guilt, and could not stop himself adding, "Maybe another time." It was the sixth time this week he had given that answer, but Alfred still brightened at the words.

"Well all right, I'll see you later then! I look forward to having that drink with ya." Alfred winked, picked up his bourbon, and sauntered back to his table.

Arthur let out a deep breath. He turned and placed the bourbon back on the shelf, took a cloth from beneath the bar, and began wiping the bar top vigorously. Arthur had never dealt with something like this before. Customers asked him for drinks, he served them. None of them ever asked him to join them – hell, most of them barely spared a word for him. Yet this American pilot had bothered him every night for a week: coming to the bar for constant refills, chatting inanely, telling stupid jokes and bragging wildly. Arthur could not understand it.

Of course, a tiny, hopeful part of his brain held the smallest suspicion - but no. Arthur had spent too long suppressing that secret part of himself. The reason he had no close friends, the reason his brothers hated him; the reason he cut himself off from society, the reason even his country's armed services refused to accept him. He had learnt from his past mistakes, and knew better than to see his own secret wishes and desires where actually there was nothing. But then, what was it about this bloody Yank? Why did he keep asking Arthur to drink with him? Why did he keep looking over at Arthur behind the bar and waving? Why did he have to grin like that? And why the bloody hell did it affect Arthur so much when he did?

Arthur risked a glance over at the pilot's table. He always sat at the same one, by the second front window, with that other fellow who looked so much like him that Arthur wondered if they were brothers. Sure enough, Alfred was looking right at him. And grinning. Arthur quickly looked down. This was preposterous. He ran a hand over his heated forehead and felt it burning red. Throwing the cloth down, Arthur stormed over to the other side of the busy pub. Surely there must be some empty glasses to pick up.

An elderly regular nodded to him as he passed. "How are you dealing with all these bleedin' Yanks, Arthur?"

Arthur gave a short laugh then backed into a table to avoid a drunk soldier stumbling past. "It's keeping me on my feet, I can tell you that much."

The old man threw the soldier a dirty look. "Ah well, chin up, eh? Don't even know why we need them here, it's not as though our boys can't take on the Jerry's without them!"

"Rather," agreed Arthur, nodding acknowledgment to a group of loud Americans signalling for service.

"Ah well my lad, with the way things are shaping up on the continent it won't be long before they're out of your hair, I imagine."

"I can hardly wait." Why did Arthur not even know if he meant it? His eyes flashed fleetingly towards Alfred's table before he quickly turned to serve the table of rowdy soldiers.

A few hours later, with the place thankfully somewhat quieter, Arthur finally had a chance to wipe down the vacant tables and collect empty glasses. He did have a few staff, but they only worked occasionally, and Arthur barely even knew their names. He preferred to do most of the work here himself. This was his pub, after all. The Emerald Lion. It wasn't much, but it was his entire life; it was everything he knew. The long bar that ran across the room, the old wooden tables and chairs that had never been replaced. The huge fireplace and its ornate mantelpiece. The ancient brick walls; the creaky narrow staircases that led down to the cold, dark cellar and up to his cosy, familiar living area. Arthur knew every part of this place like his own body. It had always been a family business, but Arthur was the last family member left here now. He felt it his duty to do as much as possible on his own.

Arthur headed back to the bar, glancing around the room as he went. Most of the patrons left were locals. The more intoxicated Americans had already been dragged back to base, but a few remained to have a few quiet drinks before close. Including Alfred. Arthur tried to avoid looking his way, but could not ignore the loud voice that called to him as he walked past the American's table.

"Arthur, buddy, how about you finally come have that drink you promised?"

"I promised no such…" Arthur trailed off, faced with Alfred's pleading expression. He sighed. This could not be a good idea… "Very well then. One moment." Arthur went to the bar, deposited the empty glasses in the sink, and poured himself a small glass of rum. After all, the place was fairly quiet. Maybe this would finally stop Alfred's constant requests, as well as put Arthur's own curiosities to rest. Alfred was obviously just a friendly young guy who treated everyone like this.

Arthur sat down at the table, taking the seat closest to the bar. He half hoped for a patron to approach it for a drink, giving him an excuse to leave. Much to his annoyance, he was far too nervous sitting this close to Alfred.

"I knew I'd convince you eventually," said Alfred cheerfully.

Arthur glared at him. "You don't give up, do you?"

The man by Alfred's side chuckled softly. "You've no idea," he said quietly.

Alfred slapped the man on the shoulder and grinned at Arthur. "Arthur, this is Lieutenant Matthew Williams."

Arthur nodded at Matthew. He really did look remarkably like Alfred. "Pleased to meet you."

"Evening. Lovely pub you have here." Matthew was so quiet Arthur could barely hear him.

"Thank you. Are you a pilot as well, Lieutenant?" Arthur figured that since he was sitting here, he may as well be polite. And besides, it was probably safer to make conversation with Matthew than Alfred.

"Matt's my wingman!" Alfred interrupted loudly. "That means he gets to watch while I do all the heroic stuff."

"No, it means I cover your butt from attack and try to make sure you don't do anything stupid. Like get yourself killed."

"Matthew, when have I ever done anything stupid?"

Matthew just blinked at Alfred silently for a moment before Arthur cut in. "Um, so sorry to be rude, but you two aren't…"

"Related?" Alfred shook his head, laughing. "Nah. Pure coincidence. Confuses the hell out of some of the superiors, I tell ya what. Finally made Matt grow his hair so they can tell us apart."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "It doesn't help that they never believe me when I tell them who I am. 'Matthew Williams' I say and it's always, 'Who?' Damned frustrating, eh?"

Alfred leant over and whispered to Arthur. "Never mind him, he's Canadian, eh?" Arthur leant away slightly when he felt the warm breath on his ear.

"I heard that," said Matthew.

"You're Canadian?" asked Arthur, taking a fortifying gulp of rum and forcing himself to focus on Matthew. Alfred was not making it easy.

Matthew started to reply but Alfred cut him off. "Oh, not anymore, he joined the good guys long ago. No longer a subject of the British Empire, eh, Matt?" Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly and Alfred quickly added, "Not, of course, that there's anything wrong with that."

"Just because I am currently flying in your Air Force does not mean that I am an American, Alfred," said Matthew with a frown. "I still consider myself Canadian."

Alfred raised his hands placatingly. "Hey, hey, as do we all." He rolled his eyes at Arthur. "He never lets us forget it. Lives on maple syrup, carries little polar bears around…"

Arthur furrowed his brow. "Carries polar bears?"

"Ah yes, this here…" Matthew unpinned a tiny fluffy white bear from one of his lapels. "…is Kumabaro. He's my lucky mascot."

"I thought his name was Kumajiro?" asked Alfred.

Matthew shrugged. "Something like that. Anyway, we all have one… a lucky charm that is. Except for Alfred."

"Oh?" Arthur could not help being curious. "Why don't you have one?"

"Well, it has to be something special. And nothing's ever turned up. But hey, never needed one before. I'm alive, ain't I?" Alfred raised his glass and drained it.

"I'll drink to that," said Matthew, draining his also. Arthur thought he had better follow suit.

"Now we're dry here… hey, barkeep!" Alfred shouted before turning to Arthur. "Oh wait…" He laughed raucously. Arthur was still not used to that laugh. It was the most boisterous, unique laugh he had ever heard. Usually half the pub turned and looked whenever Alfred let loose with it.

"Amusing," said Arthur, unsmiling. "Very well then, I suppose I'd better bring the bottle."

An hour later and Arthur had consumed far more alcohol than was wise while he was still working. At least the pub had quieted down even further, with only a handful of Americans still remaining. Matthew had left twenty minutes earlier - something about needing to oil an engine, Arthur couldn't remember - after Alfred spent a couple of minutes winking at him. What was with all this winking? It must be an American thing.

It felt a little odd to be sitting with the man who had been driving him to distraction for a week now. Sure, Alfred was arrogant and loud and, well, American, but he wasn't all that bad, Arthur supposed. Just very confident and perhaps a bit naive. But still rather irritating.

"And we're doing this for justice, you know, I wouldn't be here otherwise. We're fighting for freedom here, for what's right. We can't just let the powers of evil and tyranny take over while we stand willing and able to prevent it." Alfred gestured strongly as he continued his oration. He had been going solidly for ten minutes now. "It's just…" He paused to search for an adjective. "…un-American."

"Right, right. And where were you Americans two years ago?" Arthur muttered around his glass as he took a sip.

"Huh?"

Arthur waved his hand dismissively. Alfred seemed to know nothing about the war that had been raging without the Americans for years now. "Nothing." He grasped for a way to change the subject. "How long have you been flying?"

Alfred's face lit up immediately. "I used to go up with my dad as a kid. He was a delivery pilot you know, flew all over the country. Flew a De Havilland DH4, beautiful old plane. I still remember the feeling I got when I first went up with him." Alfred's face was vibrant as he spoke animatedly. "It was, well, really exciting, you know? Like that feeling you get when something is really intense and sort of terrifying and breathtaking and fantastic and you're a little nervous but you never want it to end. Know what I mean?"

Arthur didn't, but he couldn't help but be captivated by the smile on Alfred's face and the look of joy in his bright, blue eyes. "Sounds awfully nerve-racking to me, I'm afraid."

Alfred laughed softly and looked into his drink. "Ah, it's hard to explain. But it's my life. Signed up for the Air Force as soon as I turned eighteen, and before you know it, here I am in England, fighting in a war! Life can be damned odd sometimes."

"Certainly…" Arthur trailed off uncertainly. "Wait. How old are you?"

"Nineteen. Why, how old are you?"

"I… er…" Arthur hadn't realised Alfred was so young. Suddenly he felt like an old man. "Never mind."

"Oh no, you have to tell me now!" said Alfred, putting his glass down and leaning in eagerly. "Are you really old?"

"No!" said Arthur indignantly. "I'm just no longer a teenager."

"That's okay, I like older men." Alfred did that bloody winking thing.

Arthur stared blankly, shocked. Surely he couldn't mean… Arthur forced himself to respond. "I'm twenty-three if you must know. Though it is awfully impolite to ask."

Alfred laughed, high and cheerful and raucous as ever. "Hey, you asked me first, Arthur."

Bollocks. So he had. "Well. Either way. Really, nineteen?"

Alfred nodded cheerfully.

"Right. Fine. Jolly good." Arthur finished his glass, embarrassed. He barely noticed Alfred fill it up, looking up at Arthur with sparkling eyes and a tiny smile.

"So Arthur, you got a girlfriend? A wife hanging round here somewhere?"

"What?" Arthur was quickly losing track of the conversation. "No."

Alfred winked. "Didn't think so."

Arthur gasped indignantly, then felt a small flush of fear. Could he have been too friendly? Could he have been too obvious? Could Alfred know… "Just what the hell is that…"

"Here, let me show you a picture of my girl," interrupted Alfred.

Arthur felt his fear and anger dissipate as his heart sank. He was surprised at the intensity of the feeling. He told himself not to be ridiculous. Of course Alfred wasn't, well… like him. He silently upbraided himself for even daring to think it. Of course Alfred had a girlfriend. He was too handsome not to. Wait, when did he stop being irritating and become handsome? Arthur decided it must have been sometime after the fourth drink. Besides, it wasn't like he cared. "Oh. Very well, let's see."

Alfred pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, took out a small battered photo, and passed it to Arthur. "That's her."

Arthur looked at the photo and blinked a few times. "Um. It's a plane."

"Hey, hey, that ain't just any old plane. She's a P-51 Mustang, her name's Lady Beth, and she's beautiful, ain't she?"

Arthur tilted his head. It still just looked like a plane. "Yes, yes quite, uh, beautiful. I just… well, I thought you were talking about your girlfriend."

Alfred laughed again. He laughed so readily, so easily. "Oh Arthur, Arthur. Beth is the only lady who'll ever have my heart." He looked up slowly, smirked slightly, and winked again.

Oh. Oh. Bollocks. Arthur was stunned. He had no way to react to that, so he just drank quickly and hoped Alfred didn't notice his burning cheeks. Then he quickly glanced around, realised they were the last two in the pub, and started to stand. "Looks like closing time."

"Hey, come now, how about one more drink to round off the night?" Alfred grinned pleadingly up at him. His eyes were so blue, his expression so eager, his face so handsome when he smiled…

Arthur paused, wondered very briefly if this was a good idea, then sat back down slowly. Surely one more couldn't hurt.

One hour later…

"And ANOTHER thing," Arthur shouted. "Is it so bloody hard to use the letter 'u'? 'Color,' 'honor,' bloody… bloody, uh, 'flavor'…" Arthur trailed off and tried to locate his drink on the table. The bloody thing kept moving. Finding it, he took a deep sip and continued. "And so on and so forth… don't even get me STARTED on the letter 's'. Where do you Yanks get off butchering proper English spelling?"

"Well, um, I'm no grammar expert, but…"

"And BASEBALL!" Arthur shouted, swinging his drink and barely noticing half of it land on Alfred. "How the hell do you play baseball? It makes no bloody sense!"

"I'll explain baseball to you, if you explain cricket to me," said Alfred, wiping the rum from his shirt.

"Hey, hey," said Arthur, wagging a finger at Alfred, or in his general direction. Alfred kept moving as well. "Nothing wrong with the great game of cricket. Tradition. Gentleman's game. Sport of Kings."

"I thought that was horse racing."

Arthur waved a hand. "Sport of, sport of Princes then. Dukes. Sport of Baronets at the very least." Noticing his drink was empty, Arthur reached for the bottle. It suddenly disappeared. "Hey…"

"Maybe you've had enough."

Arthur glared at Alfred through bleary eyes. "I own a bloody pub, I'll tell you when I've had enough! And, and, the other thing. You know, the thing."

"The thing."

"Yes, that thing. It's stupid. Oh, and your food is terrible. Don't you agree, Matthew?"

"Uh, Matthew's not here anymore."

Arthur squinted at the identical blonde next to Alfred. "Who's the chap next to you then?"

"All right, seeing double, it's time to go to bed."

"What? Hey!" Suddenly the ground flew away from him. It took Arthur a few seconds to realise he was lying over Alfred's shoulder. "HEY! What is the meaning of this? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Where's your bedroom?"

Arthur gasped indignantly even as his cheeks burned. "I'm not telling you that!"

"Why not?"

"I don't even know what sort of man you are!"

"I assure you, I'm a perfect gentleman."

"No you're not, you're an American. Ah… blimey, how did we end up upstairs?"

"Never mind. Where's your room?"

"At the end of the thing. The whatsit. The hall. I'm warning you, Yank, I'm tougher than I look!"

Was Alfred laughing? Arthur tried to kick him in indignation. The next thing he knew he was being tossed onto his bed. Arthur glanced around at his familiar white walls, green curtains, and sparse furnishings.

"Gosh… how did I get here?"

"Magic," said Alfred, grinning down at Arthur.

"That thing! There! That bloody grin! Why do you always grin like that?"

Alfred just kept doing it. "Does it bother you?"

Arthur could feel his shoes being pulled off. Why was Alfred pulling his shoes off… "No," he said huffily. "Actually, it… makes me…feel…" Sinking into the soft pillow beneath him, Arthur could not keep his eyes open anymore. He sighed deeply as they drifted shut. The last thing he felt before falling asleep was a light kiss to his forehead. But he may have imagined it.

.

Next Chapter

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

[mst3kproject]

1013: Danger: Diabolik

 I haven’t seen this episode.  How could I possibly just sit down and watch what was, for years and years, the last ever episode of MST3K?  I’ve always felt there would be something symbolic about that, like it would somehow mean the show was ‘really’ over, and even though I know it’s irrational, that feeling is even stronger now that we’ve had two new seasons.  So here is the movie, but I won’t be discussing the episode at all.

Despite all the precautions attendant on a shipment of ten million dollars, master thief Diabolik and his girlfriend-slash-accomplice Eva still manage to get away with the loot.  While they head back to their extravagant underground lair to have sex in a big pile of money, the government tries to figure out what they’re going to do about this intolerable situation.  They grant emergency powers to the police.  They make deals with gangsters.  They even offer a one million dollar reward – nothing works!  When Diabolik blows up the tax offices, threatening the country with bankruptcy, it seems there’s only one thing left to do: protect the national treasury by pouring all its gold reserves into one giant, twenty-ton ingot. Surely, even Diabolik can’t steal that… can he?

Danger: Diabolik reminds me of several things.  The most obvious is the Adam West Batman show.  Part of this is just the colourful sixties milieu and the overblown, comic book feel of everything that happens – but Diabolik himself, with his fancy gadgets, his high-tech cave, and his apparently untold wealth, seems very much like a Batman of Crime. He’s even got things helpfully labeled like the ‘anti-exhilirating-gas pills’.  The only thing those are missing is the word bat.  But it also makes me think of First Spaceship on Venus, in that it’s a movie in which a lot happens, but it still feels weirdly unfocused because it has no interest in its people.

This begins with the writing.  Every scene in the movie is merely functional – it imparts information about what just happened, or what’s going to happen next, and then it’s done.  There’s very little that might be considered character development, and opportunities for it are almost always sidetracked into artistic nudity. The acting does nothing to save it, either. Not a single member of the cast ever tries to infuse their characters with any personality.  Diabolik himself is merely cackling evil, the gangsters are stock gangsters, the politicians are buffoons.  It’s not going to help that the whole movie is dubbed, but the physical performances aren’t any more interesting.

Diabolik and Eva pull off several heists, stealing money, jewels, and finally the enormous gold bar, always managing to escape right out from under the noses of the police.  The crimes themselves are fun to watch, as we are introduced to the various precautions taken and see how the criminals manage to outwit them, but we never get any idea of these two as human beings.  Thieving and sex are their entire lives, and we don’t even know why they do these things.  They don’t seem to use the items they steal.  The money just gets used as a mattress, the emeralds are thrown into a lake, and we have no idea what, if anything, they were going to do with the gold.  They seem to do this stuff just because they can.

Diabolik himself never even has a proper name.  The one person who might use it is Eva, but she never does, and the police are oddly unconcerned with his identity.  There’s a sequence in which they believe they have him dead on a table, but they make no effort to figure out who he is besides being Diabolik.  After he escapes, there are no wanted posters with his face on them.  This seems to reinforce that Diabolik is not really a person, he’s just Diabolik.  As Crow once said, who you are is irrelevant.

Of course, plenty of movies have a main villain who is nothing more than an evil force.  What keeps us interested in those is the good guys, with their relationships, personalities, and conflicts.  Danger: Diabolik doesn’t have any of that, either.  Opposing Diabolik are various government and police officials, who spend most of the movie shouting impotently and being made fools of.  We’re clearly not supposed to like or root for them, either.  The closest thing Diabolik has to a hero is Inspector Ginko, who sees Diabolik as a personal arch-nemesis.  He is competent and intelligent enough, but he’s not interesting.

What this means is that even as the crimes (and the attempts to prevent them) grow ever more outrageous, and the escapes ever more daring, nothing in Diabolik ever feels like it’s really at stake.  Since we don’t care about any of these people, we’re basically just watching to see what happens next.  It’s less like a story and more like some kind of Rube Goldberg machine. The inner workings are elaborate and it’s neat to see how all the pieces fit together, but the audience never gets involved.

Insofar as Danger: Diabolik has any kind of point to make, it’s pretty obviously about government incompetence, but it doesn’t have much to say about it.  The elected officials in the movie are unable to get anything done.  They shout a lot and hold press conferences, but none of it has an effect on the real world. The aristocrats, embodied in the British couple, are frivolous and out of touch with reality – Sir Harold is a senile old coot who plays with toy soldiers, and his wife thinks a crime spree is ‘frightfully romantic’.  Diabolik’s crimes show them to the people for the fools they are.

If this were intended as commentary, it’s strange that we are never shown how the common people react to Diabolik and what he does.  The only time we get a look at the man on the street is a brief glimpse of television viewers laughing about the destruction of the tax offices.  One may get the impression that while the government is panicking about Diabolik, ordinary people either don’t care, or indeed, think it’s all a big joke – and why shouldn’t they?  Their government are jackasses, and it’s the government that Diabolik is stealing from.  As long as his victims are not private citizens, it’s all in good fun.

Both the movie and the Diabolik comics are Italian, and Italy is of course a country with a notorious history of… let’s be nice and say ‘troubled government’.  We are never given a name for the country in which all this is supposed to be happening, but assuming it’s a stand-in for Italy seems reasonable enough. Perhaps an Italian audience would automatically assume the citizens are rooting for Diabolik, because the government are fools and deserve what they get.  The bit with the million dollar reward tends to support this, actually – as does Dr. Vernier’s warning to Eva.  Nobody wants to turn Diabolik in, not because they’re afraid of him, but because he’s something of a hero to them.

Even then, there’s still something missing, because Diabolik doesn’t care what anybody thinks of him.  He shows no interest in fame, never even bothering to say anything about it. He never leaves his hideout except to perform his next heist.  Sometimes he does seem to be doing things for political reasons, such as the laughing gas prank or his letter saying he’s blowing up the tax offices so that the government can’t waste any more public money on rewards.  Other crimes, such as the theft of the emeralds, seem to have no motive at all except perhaps to entertain Eva.  His inner life is a complete mystery to us.

While Diabolik is poorly-written and poorly-acted, I have to say it does look pretty good.  The elaborate sets and matte paintings that represent Diabolik’s lair are a lot of fun, and there’s some really well-set-up shots.  The whole movie is colourful and campy, but it often goes just a tiny bit too far with its visuals, veering off into weird, artsy asides.  The opening credits, over footage of unidentifiable stuff spinning around and around, made me feel a little ill.  The sequence of cartoon faces while the prostitute describes Eva to the sketch artist is just weird and unnecessary.  A lot of the stuff in Diabolik’s lair, intended to showcase the set design, goes on just a little too long, testing the audience’s patience and drawing attention to their careful staging.

I wonder if a lot of this stuff wasn’t based on things that worked perfectly well in the comics but didn’t translate to the screen.  That’s probably true of some of the artsy shots – you can have something like that in a comic and it won’t come across as contrived, but if you try to put it in a live-action movie the artifice of it is obvious.  The sketch artist sequence feels like a tribute of some sort to comic book art, but it’s intrusive and doesn’t do anything for the story.  Diabolik’s complete lack of identity outside his crimes would probably fare better in two dimensions than it does in three.

Or maybe it’s one of those adaptations that assumes you’re already familiar with the source material or you wouldn’t be watching it.  Maybe the comics did deal with things like Diabolik’s motivations and how people outside the government feel about him.  If so, the film has failed as an adaptation.  Moving into a new medium should bring more people into an audience, not shut them out.

[avatar-of-the-green]

Swamp Thing 1x06/1x07 Thoughts

My goodness, the last two episodes have definitely been something else. Other posters have already offered their excellent perspectives, I just have so many thoughts that I needed to express. As such, this is very long because brevity is not my strong suit. As always, cutting due to spoilers for the current episode and possible future episodes. 

Matt: 

I love how this show explores its characters. One of my previous complaints was that Matt had very little depth beyond being a seemingly-nice police officer with a torch for Abby. But with the last two episodes, we were given a deeper look into his actions and frustrations and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Him being the one to kill Alec disappointed me-mostly because I didn’t want him to be a “bad” guy-but the reasoning for him doing so was at least understandable. Not excusable, of course, but basically continuing the appalling cycle of corruption that was started by his mother and Avery. 

When it comes to the people we love, for some people, what’s “right” takes a backseat. I have no doubt that the only way Avery was able to force Matt’s hand was due to his blackmail material, in a direct contrast to him pulling Lucilia’s strings without much effort. Him being willing to murder Avery in episode seven basically showed how unwilling he was to remain someone for Avery to manipulate, but even that was completely turned on its head when Avery dropped the paternity bomb. 

I wasn’t really shocked about Avery being his father, it was something that I had wondered about as we never really received any information pertaining to Lucilia’s husband and given her rather messy behavior, it certainly made sense. But poor Matt, I feel that the next episodes are going to have him spiraling really badly. 

He “killed” an innocent person who later came back as a plant monster that might decide some revenge is in order once his memory returns. The man who manipulated him and his mother is actually his father…whom he also helped to murder. His whole identity is now in question, his relationship with his mother is in shambles and one of the people he cares about just up and left just like he was told she would. 

I hope that we have more scenes with him and Liz. Marais has felt very tiny in the most recent episodes and it’s nice to another friendship depicted. 

Lucilia:

Oh, Lucilia. I’d feel badly for her if most of the disasters in her life weren’t due to her own bad decisions. The fact that she never expected Avery to have blackmail fodder going back for years was unrealistic to me until I gave it a bit more thought. She isn’t a good person and neither is Avery, but she somehow assumed that his feelings for her made her immune to his perpetual need to control and manipulate everyone in his life. 

It reminded me a lot of a scene from the end of Kill Bill: Volume 2 between Bill and Beatrix when she mentions how shocked she was at what he did. She was well aware of-and even comfortable with-the terrible things he was capable of, but the possibility that he would do any of those terrible things to her never entered her mind. Lucilia was exactly the same and it seems like an incredibly naive mindset until you consider how some people are. 

She did awful things for Avery for money while deluding herself that it was to protect Matt. I’d bet that if Matt had expressed interest in transferring to other locations prior to episode six, she probably guilt tripped him about leaving her and all she did for him until he dropped it. Her keeping his paternity to herself may have been about “protecting” him from Avery’s influence, but it was also about keeping him to herself-as is sole influence-as well. It’s not that she doesn’t love her son, but she’s so possessive of him to an unhealthy level. I wasn’t all of the nefarious things she did for Avery that pushed her to kill him, but the fact that he involved Matt in a murder and completely shattered his perception of her as his mother. And as Avery said, she doesn’t forgive or forget. 

Maria: 

She was definitely one of the highlights of episode seven for me. Seeing her in control and getting things done was wonderful and while I’m assuming helping with the Avery murder plot is going to come back to bite her, I’m glad that she was able to deal with Lucilia despite their obvious issues in order to achieve her goals. 

While I still believe “Shawna” is inside her somewhere, I’d also like to think the experience in the swamp and finally receiving medication might have snapped her out of her fog of despair. There is nothing wrong with receiving help when you need it and while Maria is terrible to Abby, I genuinely believe she would feel badly about possibly putting Susie in danger with her shenanigans. 

Thankfully Avery won’t be around for a little while with his patented “Abby is stirring up all these bad feelings,” gaslighting speeches. 

Avery: 

He is really going all out to win the title as the most monstrous person in the series. The scene with him and Abby in episode six made me so tense and uncomfortable because it was such classic emotionally abusive behavior. How dare she accuse him of things he (most likely) did! She had nothing before him, she owes him! As though he isn’t a murderous scumbag. As though he doesn’t talk out both sides of his mouth playing on Maria’s grief and Abby’s affections. 

It’s mostly my headcanon, but I think he was probably closer to Abby than Shawna growing up, as they had the deaths of their parents to bond over. Shawna was born into money and Abby wasn’t, so anything he did for her she was immensely appreciative of. She was also probably so afraid of being abandoned that she did everything possible to be the “good” daughter, in contrast to Shawna’s more rebellious personality. 

She loved and respected Avery until Shawna’s death, which is probably when his mask briefly slipped and she saw the rotten person he truly was. But because she was just a teenager, she rationalized it as being the effects of Shawna’s death and all her fault. But after returning to Marais, Abby is able to see more and more of the despicable person Avery truly is and that infuriated him. He has nothing to hold over her aside from Shawna’s death, nothing to control her with and while I’d like to think he wouldn’t hurt her…his behavior towards Lucilia in the swamp-a woman’s he’s been with for thirty odd years-shows that doesn’t really value anyone. 

Everyone is disposable in his eyes. 

I wonder what led him to become such an atrocious person. We constantly hear about the “swamp taking his father,” but the flashback we were shown doesn’t really depict a sadistic child that would become a villain. It could simply be the typical story of a man desperate to rise about his station became consumed by his greed and corrupted by his ambitions, but I hope there is a little more to it than that. 

I’m both curious and afraid of what’s going to happen next with him. I enjoyed how his rise from the swamp was a mirror of Alec’s, but with more violence. If he is an Avatar of the Rot, it’s going to make things very interesting in the remaining episodes.  

Woodrue: 

I’ll just state the obvious that what he did to Cassidy was beyond unethical and potentially remarkably insipid. Alec faked scientific results, and he’s a scientist by loose definition in his eyes, yet he engages in unsanctioned human testing and that’s completely acceptable. Avery really does poison all the people he touches, though his own ambition and his desire to help Caroline probably would have led him down the same road. 

I loved that Caroline called him out on his behavior and just how amoral his actions were and how her quick thinking kept Cassidy from being shot. It was painful to witness the change in her towards the end of this episode and sadly I’m sure her situation is only going to get worse. Either Woodrue will inject her with the formula to prevent her Alzheimers from progressing or he’ll inject himself as another test subject and things will fall apart from there. 

Abby: 

As I stated in one of my notes, I love her but her lack of self-preservation is crazy. She has this incredible need to fix situations and yet makes choices that are incredibly impetuous and could make them worse. I truly wish that we knew more of her background, but one could assume her mother dying and then Shawna dying both contributed to her unhealthy fixation with trying to save everyone and control the situation. She couldn’t help her mother, she caused Shawna to die-but in actuality was just unable to save her from an unseen force-and now she has Alec to focus on and feels as though she’s failing him as well. 

With some people, I would say it’s based on a desire for praise or to be a martyr, but with her I think it’s just an effect of having so many unresolved issues and so much guilt. As though saving as many people possible will somehow help her “atone” for those she couldn’t. She wants to save Alec because she cares about him, but also because the situation he’s in could be incredibly dangerous. Two hunters came for him, the next time it could be a team to capture him for study or dissection. 

It’s thoughtful of her, but then she has this remarkable reckless streak that almost got her killed several times. Lucilia could have shot her, she could have died from the darkness, she could have died from the Rot. She was incredibly lucky in the first instance and fortunate that Alec was present in the last two. While the end of episode seven was heartbreaking, it was completely reasonable for Alec to tell her to leave. While her intentions have been good, her behavior has been irrational and eventually her luck will run out. 

I’m curious as to whether or not the show is involving Abby’s New 52 origin and if the tendril from the Rot will awaken something within her. We’ve already seen (the person I assume) is Anton Arcane, so it might not be such a far stretch. 

Abby’s scenes with Alec were just so perfect and it made me so happy as a shipper. All of the touches and her kissing him were lovely. But her crying as she drove away from him in her boat broke my heart. Hopefully her time in Atlanta will give her some time to reflect on things. And with luck we’ll see Harlan again and find out what-if any-consequences have arisen due to her absence. 

Alec: 

Although I’m almost one hundred percent certain that they’re going with Alan Moore’s interpretation of Swamp Thing, I’ll still refer to him as Alec for now. 

Episode six was a particularly painful one for him, as he got to experience the joys of being trapped, shot and hunted like an animal. His anger was justified and while his response was a bit much-I winced at the bark spikes to the face-he doesn’t quite have full control or knowledge of his capabilities yet. He was also completely aware of the danger that people poking around the swamp would pose for him. He is a scientific find of the century and there would be no shortage of people wanting a piece of him. There was also the Matt aspect later in the episode as well. What he did to him was inexcusable, but I really hope Alec doesn’t kill him in recompense.

The near-end of the episode was lovely and definitely understandable. It’s frightening, but sometimes you need to move away from the person you were in order to grow and gain a better comprehension of yourself. 

Then the last scene occurred and I may have freaked out a tiny bit. 

It was wonderful having Andy Bean back as Alec Holland for episode seven. I love the way that Derek Mears portrays Swamp Thing, he’s so incredible emotive despite the costume and the makeup, but I also love how Andy Bean portrays Alec as well. They have distinct personalities, Alec being affable and charming, while Swamp Thing is more solemn and otherworldly-for obvious reasons. Having Human!Alec back was bittersweet and it was nice that they were able to find a plot-relevant reason to do so. I still really hope we get some more flashbacks to his life prior to Marais, but that may sadly be just a pipe dream. 

This episode was definitely a turning point for Alec and his growing acceptance for his role as Avatar of the Green. As wonderful as it was to be the “charming man” he used to be, without his abilities, Abby would have died. Technically, he should have stopped her from getting too close to the Rot, but that might have broken the immersion of the hallucination. But the scene before they encountered the Rot was so beautiful and I’m glad the lighting wasn’t terrible for once. While parts of his new life are undoubtedly strange and a bit traumatizing, it was good to see Alec extolling the wonderous aspects as well. 

The way the Green is portrayed is also interesting. We’ve seen the darker aspects with it lashing out in the first episode and it briefly forcing Alec to see those who perished in episode five, but it consciously trying to help him connect with Abby and to save her life was wonderful as well. It was also teaching him something of a lesson. If he even could go back to being human, he would be unable to do anything against the Rot or help anyone except in the traditional sense. Perhaps Abby is able to synthesize a formula to combat the Rot, but then it would have to be tested, approved, mass produced, distributed and analyzed. 

Which would be remarkably useful, but would take valuable time that they don’t have. What Abby viewed as him giving up hope was more him coming to terms with his destiny and what that entails. Him asking Abby to leave was so painful to watch, but with something so powerful and ancient intent upon destroying everything, allowing her to remain in harm’s way would have been selfish on his part. 

But all the longing looks and the touches throughout the episode nearly killed me. As Swamp Thing he’s been so reluctant to be close to Abby unless it was necessary and the fact that she kissed him-while seeing his human form-may have inadvertently made things a little worse. He can’t be that person again, despite Abby’s belief that he can be cured and despite his talk of accepting his destiny, he doesn’t view a relationship with her as a part of that. 

He’s referred to himself as a “monster” and a “thing.” Despite the beauty in his existence and the knowledge of having a special purpose, he still is obviously bothered by his “transformation.” While Abby mentions a cure as something that will help him, which she undoubtedly believes, he probably interprets it as her being bothered by “what” he is and feels insecure about it. In terms of a future, he also can’t offer her much in way of traditional things. Which begs the question of Abby wanting a more normal relationship and him feeling as though she would be settling. 

It’s such a delightful tangle of emotions that we’ll have only three episodes to figure out. 

[garrettsiwicki]

The Gandrew Conundrum

Or better named, the post where I talk out of my ass. Okay, so let me preface this by saying I am in no way claiming any of this is true. This is just a point of view my brain has created from what we’ve seen or headcanon’d about Garrett and Andrew. I don’t truly know anything about Garrett, Andrew, or anyone relating to them. This is just my opinion of where I personally see them right now. If you wanna take it seriously, okay. If you wanna take it as a headcanon and have fun with it, okay. It’s all in good fun and not meant to be taken as gospel. If anything just run with it for fanfics or something. :) 

 So anyway, here is my analysis/headcanon/conspiracy/whatever about Gandrew. It’s not all fluff and cuteness, so keep that in mind. I tried to write it as down to earth as possible. Enjoy. ❤️

Garrett. I think his feelings/situation is a bit more straight forward than Andrew’s. Garrett has openly said “if I was a girl, i’d put a ring on it [Andrew]” and has joked about being in love with one of his straight friends before (the friend who made him that bike). So it’s pretty likely he harbors some kind of feelings for his “dear close sweet handsome friend” Andrew, whom he appears to be closer and spend more time with. I think Garrett does have feelings for Andrew, and I think he knows he has feelings for Andrew, but of course Andrew (at least to Garrett’s knowledge) is his “straight guy” friend and obviously you can’t just announce that you, a gay person, have feelings for your “not-gay” friend. Hell, it’s difficult to announce you have feelings for your best friend when you’re in a straight relationship. Adding conflicting sexualities to that makes a whole new layer of confusion. Because of this possibility/fear I think Garrett has resigned himself to accepting that it’ll always be something fantasy, that he shouldn’t allow himself to entertain the thought because it’ll “never happen” and he’s just the “silly” gay friend who fell in love with his straight friend. 
(I’m not calling Garrett silly, it’s not silly at all, but he may think that) I think if Andrew showed interest toward a relationship, if it was totally Andrew’s decision to open up about it and pursue something, then Garrett would have no problem pursuing some kind of relationship. But of course, like I said, Garrett is not ready to start this conversation himself. (Note: When I say Garrett doesn’t fully acknowledge it, i’m not saying Garrett can’t brag on or compliment Andrew. He does those things all the times and we all see how smitten he is, i’m just saying he won’t go to Andrew and verbally tell him “I LIKE YOU ROMANTICALLY” lol) 
 Now for Andrew. 
 Andrew’s feelings are a bit harder for me to pin point, largely due to the fact i’m not 100% sure how to explain what I mean, and also my opinion is known to jump back and forth, but nevertheless i’ll try to make this sensible. 
 (A lot of this explaining has to do with discovering yourself/being closeted/etc so keep that in mind.) I think Andrew identifies as straight, and therefor is assumed straight by those around him, but I also feel like he’s never been dead-set on it. And what I mean by that is, the average straight guy will tell you they have no intentions of ever dating a guy. They’re straight and it’s not their thing. But with Andrew I feel he’s never been super defensive of his heterosexuality. Andrew has never shown signs of hyper-masculinity or really caring about what people perceived him as. Yes, that could purely be due to the fact he’s just a decent and accepting guy, but I feel like there’s a bit more to it. I feel like he doesn’t feel the need to establish his heterosexuality because while he has only dated women, and overall assumes himself as straight, I feel like he’s one of those people who has acknowledged to themselves that they wouldn’t be closed to the idea of dating a guy if one day they had feelings for one. (Note, hypothetically being open to dating someone of the same sex is vastly different than actually dating an entire real person) Now, that being said, many people in the queer community started off with a similar woke mindset of “i’m straight, but if I liked someone of the same sex I wouldn’t be opposed to it” before realizing they were actually queer. Just like many of us were big LGBT+ Ally’s and related to/liked a lot of queer media before realizing we were queer ourselves. It’s sometimes a stepping stone to realizing you’re queer, I guess you could say.
 This is where I think Andrew falls. 
 Andrew is obviously comfortable with the LGBT community, his current friend group appears to be very diverse and heavily queer, and he seems to not be afraid of liking things that may be perceived as feminine or “gay” by the average cishet person. Andrew is at a stage a lot of queer people have been at before, which is being a Super Cool Straight Ally until one day “Oh wait... maybe i’m not just an Ally.”. This is something that can happen when a queer person finds themselves around more queer people and more queer media than before. No, I don’t mean he’s being “turned” gay or some dumb shit like that, what I mean is if a queer person is in a more open and diverse environment (the squad, youtube, etc) that they maybe weren’t in before, that person can start to realize things about themselves they’ve never been able to really acknowledge, label, or be open about before. 
(This is why I smirk at the comments saying “Andrew is getting gayer” because yeah, lol. For lack of a better term, he is. He’s not being made gay, but he is getting more comfortable in himself.)  Andrew is at the stage where he knows something is different. He knows he puts Garrett in a different category than his other male friends, he knows he doesn’t /like/ seeing Garrett flirt with other guys. When Garrett hangs out with Jeffree, Andrew has to post about some other friend he’s hanged out with. If Jeffree makes a joke about sleeping with Garrett, Andrew has to mention he slept over with a friend too. He knows what he’s feeling is jealousy and he’s trying to put this new feeling in it’s place, but he’s still not ready to let himself fully admit that he’s gone and fallen for his best friend. See, Andrew has always struck me as having a shy, maybe a bit nervous, personality. I think it’s definitely possible he overthinks different situations in this life, and falling for your best friend is definitely something someone might overthink. I think it’s also very possible he’s slightly self conscious and tends to doubt himself a lot in stressful or confusing situations. So it’s not that he’s against what he’s feeling, he’s not grossed out by it or negative toward it,  but it’s that he won’t let himself *believe* it’s happening. If that makes sense. I think he panics and tries to rationalize it into something else because “I don’t have feelings for Garrett… do I? No, we’re best friends. That’s all it is.” 
“Garrett couldn’t possibly have feelings for me… there’s no way” 
 “I’m just being dramatic, Garrett doesn’t like me… ” etc. 
 Most everyone, including myself, has had the #gay panic when realizing they’re queer. He’s never experienced this before with a guy, definitely not with someone so close to him, and I think he’s a bit shell shocked by it. So he self doubts. He overthinks. He tries to rationalize it because there *must* be another explanation for it... there’s no WAY he’s fallen for his best friend, that only happens in movies, right? And when I say Andrew can’t admit it or is confused by his feelings, I don’t mean it in a homophobic or demeaning way. I mean coming to terms with yourself, even if it’s just the newness of everything, can be a lot to take in at first. It’s an experience with a lot of feelings and thoughts. Even if someone is open to it, it actually happening can take a minute to get used to. Hypotheticals and real life are two entirely different ball games. 
 Now for another big question…. do they realize each other has the same feelings, and do people around them realize it? 
 Like I said earlier, I think Garrett doesn’t allow himself to believe it’s there. He thinks Andrew is straight and it’s all just his silly feelings, so while he might notice hints here and there he doesn’t let himself believe it’s anything. He won’t assume anything until Andrew tells him directly to his face. (Poor Andrew, lol) 
 For Andrew I think he notices more than Garrett. He can see Garrett likes him a lot and it’s not that he doesn’t want that, but like with his own feelings I think he tries to rationalize it and overthink it. When Garrett compliments him and brags on him, he tries to tell himself that it’s JUST because Garrett is a nice guy. It’s JUST because Garrett is funny and extra. Garrett compliments EVERYONE, I’M not special (he is). Like with his own feelings, in the back of his head he knows what it is and he does hope for it, but it’s gonna take a bit of time for him to let himself believe fully it’s there. 
(may it be due to the #gay panic or just his own self doubt) As for their friends… obviously they notice. Garrett tweeted about wanting a boyfriend once and Matt replied with a tag to Andrew, so obviously anyone could tell they’re the couple in their friend group who everyone teases about getting together. Do I think their friends realize it’s THIS serious yet? Maybe not. Teasing and genuine belief are two different things. I think their friends definitely think they’re good together, and wouldn’t be surprised if it happened, and tease them about it, but like with everything else Andrew’s alleged straightness still adds a tiny bit of hesitation to everyone’s belief. So I think they know, but maybe they don’t notice it’s quite this serious yet. 
 As for the actual squad (Shane, Ryland, and Morgan)… I don’t know. I’ve never been able to exactly pin point my thoughts on their POV. I think they believe more than Garrett and Andrew’s other friends, simply for the fact Shane and Ryland are both queer and could see things from a different POV than Garrett and Andrew’s other straight friends. Not to get too fanfic-y, but I think Shane would definitely be one of the first people to realize “oh shit, this is for real. It’s not just teasing anyone.” (if he hasn’t realized already). 
Shane struggled a lot with his bisexuality and has been through this before, he would definitely be someone to notice the tell tale signs somebody else might not. - Anyway, there ya go. As of right now, this is my view of everything Gandrew. May it drastically change one day? Yes. Does it change a little bit everyday depending on the circumstance and new content? Yes. So again, take from this what you will. It may ring some truth, it may be entirely bs. But hopefully you all at least enjoyed reading it. :)

[misc-oneshots]

Blessed

Sirius Black x Malfoy!Reader 

Words: 4691

Y/N is Lucius Malfoy’s twin sister who didn’t join her brother at Hogwarts until the second year. A chance event changes her whole life and now she has a secret that could get her killed, she’s not even told Lucius. When James Potter finds out and not only vows to keep her secret but also tries to help - it rubs Sirius Black up the wrong way. Why was his best mate trusting a Slytherin, a Malfoy, so close to the brink of war?

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

---

Malfoy Manor was a grand and imposing testament to tradition and pure breeding. When your brother Lucius was away at Hogwarts it was boring. You couldn't wait for next year when you could join him and spend time away from your parents. As your twin brother you should have been able to join him this year - but illness had kept you at home.

You knew that your parents were embarrassed that their daughter had been too weak to attend her first year of school, but Dumbledore had promised that you could join your brother in the second year at the same stage as long your studies where up to date. Lucius had told you all about the Slytherin common room and he'd already handed down his first-year books for you to study. He'd told you the sort of person to avoid, the mud-bloods and the blood-traitors and you'd nodded like he expected you to, but you were excited to meet some muggle-born witches after finding a book on muggle history. You kept it hidden in your favourite tree on the Malfoy grounds. The Manor still held so much for you explore and you planned to finish seeing all the grounds before you started Hogwarts, that's why you were running, as best you could in the stiff dress mother brought you, towards the back door.

You skidded to a stop when your legs ran into a house elf and you tumbled to your knees. The house elf was up straight away, her wide eyes fearful as she tried to help you up, "Oh Miss Malfoy, please forgive me. I'm very sorry mistress!" The house elf cowered as you pushed yourself up, "Not to worry Ukle, I wasn't looking where I was going. I'm sorry, are you alright?"

"Ukle is most well Mistress, most well, the house of Malfoy is very good to Ukle." She told you bowing her head, her voice quivering. You narrowed your eyes and felt your stomach flip, Luci always told you that servants where proud to serve the Malfoy's and that you would be treated the same at Hogwarts, but you couldn't help that you didn't like it. It sounded false, she sounded...scared. Swallowing your nerves and decided to go for it, to just ask her but as you opened your mouth your mother's shrill tone hit you like a riding crop.

"You'll do well to remember how good we are to you, elf." she snapped coming from around the corner, "But I doubt you'll stay in good favour if you continue to speak to those above your station whilst you have duties to attend."

With a squeaked 'Yes ma'am' the house elf burrowed her head and scampered off. Your stomach dropped, as your mother left you wished that you'd spoken up to her, to defend the poor house elf who you'd ran into but cowardice in the face of your mother had stopped it and it left a sour taste in your 11-year-old mouth.

--

A few feet past the tree line was your favourite spot on all your families’ grounds, bunching your dress up, you climbed up your favourite tree that you used for storage and pulled out the muggle history book you'd stashed before jumping back down and tucked yourself into the tree trunk to read about Muggle Royalty. The Tutors were your favourites, they got up to some free strange things. After twenty minutes your attention was taken by tiny buzzing and small scratching sounds of desperation. You stood and glanced around but when the source of the noises wasn’t obvious you threw your book back up into the tree, afraid to be caught by anyone with a muggle book.

It took five minutes to find the small iron traps around the roots and up the sides of a nearby tree. You leaned in close and held your breath at the tiny creatures struggling to escape the traps. They were no bigger than your hand, small imp-like creatures who were squealing in pain at crushed limbs and wings in the traps.

Fae.

There were actual Fae on your grounds, Fae were very ancient powerful creatures who used old magic despite their size and someone had laid traps for them like they were vermin. Had Father set these up? Had he made poor Ukle set up these death traps to let these amazing creatures starve in agony?

Tears swelled in your eyes, the innocence of a childhood sheltered from your parent’s cruelty but now having to confront it. You should walk away, leave like the pureblood that they wanted you to be. But as your tears spilt, you knew that you couldn't bear to see anyone, or anything suffer like this. Some of them where paying attention to you now and those that were watching you had stopped struggling and fallen silent. “Erm, hello.” You whispered, nerves biting at you, “I’m Y/N Malfoy-” at your surname a few of them screeched and you covered your ears quickly, tears threatened to spill from your eyes again. “I want you help! I want to help you!” You shouted over their screeching until they stopped.

You dropped your hands from your ears and shuffled towards them on your knees, in the back of your mind you knew that your mother would scold you for dirtying your dress and that thought alone was enough to distract you from the tears welling in your eyes. You tried to keep your voice steady and calm, you were a Malfoy after all, “I’m going to try to release you all but I’m not sure what I’m doing so please just be patient.”

It took the best part of an hour to release them all, an hour on your knees pulling and yanking at the enchanted iron traps until your fingertips were raw and bleeding and your forearms where covered in dirt and dead leaves. With a squeal the last Fae was released and joined the others that had waited for it before rushing away through the trees like a gathered storm. Watching them go you let out a shaky breath, you were bruised, bleeding and dirty but how many people could see that they’d seen a gathering of Fae so close and came away unharmed? You wiped some sweat off of your brow and felt dirt smear your forehead but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, it shouldn’t be too hard to sneak through all the secret passages of the Manor to get back to your room without seeing Mother.

The trek back through the woods was harder than ever before, the heavy weight of your dress was dragging you down and you were exhausted from the days adventure but beside that you felt light. Lucius had always mocked Care of Magical Creatures as a subject but maybe you had a flair for it. A scratching in the trees behind you made you pause and slowly you turned, hoping that perhaps you may see the Fae again. A spider, nearly as large as the chandelier in the Manor’s hallway, skittered over the roots of the trees behind you. Your breath caught, your heart banged in your ears. You’d seen these in one of Lucius’ books, before you had chance to scream the thing was on you.

You fell back against another tree trunk and screamed and fought as it bit and scratched down at your scrambling arms, it’s bites making you squeal in pain as it burnt your skin. Your legs were being pulled together as it tried to wrap you in it’s web. White-hot pain was blinding you but faintly you heard a screech and felt it’s weight pulled off you and the tight bindings around your legs loosening.

It felt like hours for you to come around, but it must have only been minutes, the first thing you noticed was the spider away from you, on it’s back, its legs curled in on itself. It was well and truly dead. A foul smell had you looking down and you vomited at the sight. The creatures’ bites had been acidic and everywhere that it had bit your arms had burnt down to the muscle and bone and the outer skin was sizzling. You were dying. Tears wet your cheeks, elven years old and dying alone in the ground of her house, that was not a fitting end for a Malfoy. You dared to look down again at your body to the swarm of little Fae walking all over you. One on your chest looked particularly angry at being vomited on.

“Sorry.” You mumbled to it, “Glad to see that you’re okay,” You swallowed hard, “I hope it’s not Mother who finds me.” You mused to your new little friends, it was nice to have some company as you passed.

“Many this will help Luci stop being so angry.” You conspired with them and you get the impression that a few of them where listening to you as you told them your inner worries, “He’s always so angry in his letters about the other students.” It was nice to think about your brother in your last moments, you and he had always been close. “Maybe he’ll see…Muggle, pure-blood, we all die the same. Father used to tell me that I had an old soul, at least one part of me got to be old.” You gave a humourless laugh to your new friends and closed your eyes.

-----

It was night when you next opened your eyes, it took a few moments for confusion to set in about even being able to open your eyes. Quickly you sat up, finding yourself in no pain and ran your hands down your arms which were smooth except for the Goosebumps from the night air. “By Merlin’s beard?” You whispered confused and looked around, had you fallen asleep and dreamt it? Then your eyes landed on the crow picking at the spider’s corpse and your blood ran cold. Shuddering you pushed yourself to your feet and sprinted back to the side of the Manor and ducked into a side entrance, usually reserved for the staff, and didn’t stop sprinting until you reached your room. You slammed your door shut and quickly ripped off your dress to examine your body for other wounds but found none. You quickly rushed to your en-suite, filled the basin and washed the dirt and blood from your hands and face.

You held out your, now clean, shaking hands to examine the wounds that had been there but no matter how many times you turned them over there were no wounds. You turned your hands again and your breath hitched at the markings on your wrist. You swallowed, blood rushing in your ears and reached your other hand slowly towards the new mark on your wrist but stopped short when a knocking at the door pulled you from your thoughts. “Just a moment!” You called and quickly kicked the tarnished dress under your bed and picked up a robe from your vanity chair and wrapped your body up just as your door opened. Your mother wasted no time stepping into your room with Ukle behind her.

“Where have you been Y/N?” She asked stopping to stand in front of you. You did your best to look reproachful, “Sorry Mother, I was reading the potions book that Lucius sent me. He wrote me and said that the Slytherin House Leader is the potions master.” Even though her face was sour your mother nodded, glad that you wanted to get in good with Slytherin masters, she knew all about the slug-club and as a Malfoy you would be expected to be asked to join.

“Ukle, run the child a bath.” You mother snapped, and the house elf quickly abided. Your mother turned to leave but you stopped her. “Mother?” You asked quickly and she half-turned with a raised eyebrow at your behaviour.

You swallowed, “Tomorrow when go to Diagon Ally, might I look for a book on Magical Creatures?” She looked at you suspiciously, so you quickly appealed to her pure-blood pride, “I’ve been looking though Lucius’ books but I still find myself lacking. A Malfoy should have no gaps in their knowledge.”

She nodded, “Very well, your Father will be glad to here that you’re taking your studies so seriously.” You thanked her as she left and then thanked Ukle for running your bath as she left too and then it was just you and your thoughts.

You sank into water, having no energy to enjoy the magically dancing bubbles in the air, and stared at the mark on your wrist. You needed those books tomorrow to research yourself. You knew what that mark meant.

You were Fae-blessed.

----

True to Dumbledore’s word you joined Lucius in the second year of Hogwarts thanks to your good-health and fabulous scores. It had caused quite a stir when Lucius had returned to school with his twin sister. The Malfoy who had missed a year, who was so much shorter and weaker than her brother but even under their scrutiny you didn’t look weak. Lucius had boasted to La Strange, Snape and, Bellatrix that it was because you were a Malfoy, and Malfoy’s were not kept down for long. But you knew why you had been so much healthier over the last few months, you felt stronger, faster and more powerful.

Since you’d nearly died, and the Fae had blessed you, you’d done a lot of research into those blessed by the Fae and it didn’t all make for happy reading. The good news was that it meant that you healed faster, your magic was more powerful, your sense of smell had improved so your potions where always of star quality. The biggest plus was that you didn’t need your wand to use magic, if you really needed to and focused then you could current your magic through your hands but often it was too dangerous because the cons of your new life outweighed the pros. Con – as one book had put it ‘The Fae-blessed are no longer considered human, much like the werewolf, the Fae-blessed are a Magical Creature.’ So, you hadn’t daren’t tell a soul about your condition, your family would disown you or possibly even kill you themselves to save the family name. You also had to avoid liquid iron as much as possible, unless you wanted an interesting, painful reaction.

Death-eaters, though a new thing and you knew your father was one, had a theory that the increased magic of the Fae-born was hidden in their skin. You’d heard horror stories of Fae-born being killed and skinned and their skin being made into sword sheaths and even furniture since Death-eaters believed this should enhance their magic. Since you had no urge to be made into a lampshade, you ever uttered a word of your condition. Not even to your twin brother. Dumbledore had figured you out and told you that he had made the head healer aware in case you had any issues. It was for all your cunning, determination and resourcefulness to keep yourself alive and safe that you were sorting into Slytherin. You mother had sent you a courteous letter and signed it from herself and your father, but you could practically envision your father behind you as she wrote it ‘Why are you sending congratulations? She should have attended last year.’

----

You met the Marauders that year, but they paid you no attention when they realised that you wouldn’t rise to their pranks like Lucius would. Like Black had once grumbled to Potter as they’d walked passed you, Not even worth it, that one. But you’d caught their attention when you’d snorted out your nose and mumbled, “Didn’t know my Father had come back to Hogwarts.” They’d all turned to eye you, but you’d already gone back to reading your book while perching in the windowsill waiting for Charms to begin. After that you had a weird truce where you ignored them, and they ignored you. You had no interest in the rivalry between your houses, instead choosing to avoid getting too close to anyone to keep your secret safe. You were the Slytherin that they complained the least about if they ever got partnered with you because of the few times where you’d spoken up to Professor Slughorn to remind him that he’d not given Gryffindor any points for Peter’s help with a potion when you and he had been partnered together.

That had caught Lily’s attention, you were both part of the Slug-Club – together with James Potter – as thanks to your sense of smell your potions where always amazing. Lily Evans and you were his favourite students and due to that bond alone over the next year you became awkward friends. She couldn’t fully trust a Malfoy and you couldn’t have too many muggle-born friends without drawing attention to yourself and if you wanted to survive you needed as little attention as possible.

Another uneasy alliance that you’d made was in Remus Lupin, the Marauder who smelled funny to you, was your library pal. The back-corner table of the library was your shared domain, he took one half and you took the other. You rarely spoke unless you were both struggling on a question or he was asking if you wanted a drink while he fetched himself one. You liked your neutral acquaintance, especially when he started putting chocolate in the middle of the table for you both to share, since you’d been blessed you’d found yourself with an incredible sweet tooth. When you went to Hogsmeade you made sure to stock up on other sweets for your table so that you could share them and pay him back.

You knew that the other Marauders knew about your study buddy sessions from when you’d heard James teasing Lupin but apparently, he found no fun in it when he realised that you weren’t secretly dating. The other Slytherins weren’t happy about you associating with the Gryffindor but you waved it off as him being the only silent student in the library. A few months into your study meeting you realised why he smelt funny to you, he was a Werewolf. The realisation surprised you, but you were happy to be on okay terms with the only other non-human in the school and vaguely wondered if he’d figured you out. That was when you used your Malfoy connections to obtain Wolfs Bane, passing it off as ‘find me some or my father will hear about this’, and began to make Remus a potion for his monthly issues.

You non-humans had to look after each other. You followed the Marauders one night – also learning that they were unregistered animagi! – and started to leave the potion in the Shrieking Shak every month for them to find. You had to be careful to time it, knowing that whichever of them was the dog – you guessed Sirius because of them calling him Padfoot – might be able to track your scent if you weren’t fast. But hey, no had caught you yet since becoming a Fae-blessed.

----

By the time Year Four had started the Marauder’s hadn’t found who was helping Remus and had put it down to Dumbledore and no one had figured out your secret. Things between you and Lucius where strained, he was your twin, and in many cases, your other half and he didn’t understand the sudden distance that you had put between them over the last few years. But at least when you’d been back at home during the summer it was like the old you, like you relied on him to protect you but he’d yet to figure out what he was supposed to be protecting you from. When he brought it up you blamed teenage hormones and brushed him off. Your skills at using just your hands for magic were getting stronger but you daren’t use it for fear of getting caught but it was hard. Every sudden surge or drop in mood made your fingers tingle with energy that was just begging to be released.

You sat waiting for your potions class to begin while idly flicking through your potions book, James Potter sat beside you and leaned across to his side to flirt with Lily who was partnered with Lupin. Behind you Sirius sat with Peter and flicked things at the back of James head. Slughorn continued to partner you with James or Lily, as some of his favourite students it gave him an excuse to give you all and abundance of house points for your superior potions. Across the room Lucius and Snape were partnered together and keeping a watchful eye on you amidst the gaggle of Gryffindors.

While Slughorn blathered about what potion he wanted concocting your mindlessly made notes, not realising that within the next few hours would be the first time that anyone found out your secret.

After the few times that you’d been partnered together you and Potter had developed a rhythm, he collected ingredients and bothered his friends while you did all the prep. “Malfoy, have you got the liquid iron?” Potter asked, in classes he was always civil with you and you wondered how much of that had to do with him noticing the weird, uneasy friendship that you and Lily had. Your stomach dropped, you’d have to be careful here, just too strong a scent of that and you’d end up exposed. Not looking at him you pretended to read the instructions and mumbled, “No I haven’t would you mind fetching it?” You asked. You heard a snort behind you that was definitely Sirius, “Bloody Princess.” Choosing not to react to that you glanced at James who was giving you a look like he agreed with his best friend. You rolled your eyes and tried to play it off, “Fine, will you keep an eye on the cauldron’s temperature, if it goes to a boil then the whole potion will be a waste.” He narrowed his eyes, “I do know that Malfoy.”

Of course, he knew it, his father was famous for his potions, but you didn’t react and instead stepped away to fetch the vial of liquid iron. You held your breath and tried to will you hands no to shake as you lifted it. You could feel magic stirring within you, wanting to pulse out of your hands at your level of anxiousness but you pushed it down, bit your lip and walked back to your desk as carefully as you could. Putting down the vial on the desk you let out a discreet, shaky breath but when you looked up at James he was watching you intently. You swallowed hard, he’d been watching you fetch the vial. His held titled to the side as he studied you and you hoped, beyond hope that he wasn’t planning on using it in a prank against you. After managing to distract him by going through the complicated steps and him turning around to help Sirius and Peter with their potion, you came to the stage you were dreading – adding the Liquid Iron. “Potter, would you mind adding the Liquid Iron while I stir?” You asked, trying to sound casual. He gave you a funny look again and you added, “Please, Potter?”

He pushed up his glasses and leaned over so that he could speak quietly to you, “Are you allergic or something?” You swallowed and nodded your head, keeping your voice low, “Quite severely.” You admitted, hoping that no one could hear you and that he wouldn’t use it against you. You could see Lily and Remus watching your closeness.

James righted himself, “In that case you shouldn’t even be stirring Malfoy, I could spill it on you.” He mumbled and took both the vial and the ladle and started to pour the Liquid Iron and stirring it. Your chest tightened at the gesture, “Thank you, Potter.” He pulled a face so that his glasses would slip down his nose slightly and stop getting fogged by the potions steam. “Don’t mention it.” He mumbled as he watched his stirring over the top of his glasses. “No, I appreciate it.” You mumbled lowly to him and he just nodded.

The rest of the potion went smoothly, as it always did when you where paired with another Slug-Club member. James was turned in his spot, with his back rested against your desk as he pestered Sirius and James. You were just waiting for your potion to cool now so you started to tidy your area and didn’t pay attention to the mini-play squabble that James and Sirius where having until Sirius leaned over his desk to jostle James who fell straight back into your desk. The potion in your cauldron wobbled and some splashed out straight onto your hand as you’d instinctively tried to catch it.

You cursed instantly and held your hand back to yourself and cuddled it under your robes. You hissed another curse word again and squeezed your eyes closed. Your skin felt like it was on fire with the Fae reaction to the Liquid Iron and your own magic begging to be released. “Malfoy - shit I’m sorry.” Potter rushed quickly and tried to pull your arm away from you to look at the damaged, but you held it close to yourself. “Piss off, Potter.” You hissed, the Fae-blessed mark on your wrist burnt through the charm that you had hiding it. You had to get out of here – now – before they realised what you were.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy, he’s only trying to help you.” Sirius snarked behind you. “Not now Pads.” James mumbled and leaned over to snatch something from Lily’s table before handing it to you, “This will take away the sting.” He told you and you snatched it from him.

“Lily, Moony,” You were faintly aware of James talking to the table beside you, “Tell Slughorn I’m taking her to the infirmary, she’s having an allergic reaction.”

You didn’t hear the rest but felt his hand on your shoulders pushing you out of the classroom. When you slowed down he put his arm around your shoulders to urge you along. When you reached the infirmary the matron, knowing your ‘issues’, quickly ran to you and shooed Potter away. He tried to help get you onto a bed, but Matron stopped him, and he was left standing confused as she struggled to get you into a bed by herself. James stayed put, the Matron quickly pulled the curtain round the bed but not before he saw an angry welted mark along your wrist and was he imagining it or were your eyes brighter?

The curtain closed, and James couldn’t stop the unease in the pit of his stomach, this wasn’t normal, and he was sure he’d seen that mark in a book somewhere. He followed his feet and James found that he’d walked straight past his potions class, he didn’t care about the grade now and didn’t want to deal with the Slytherin’s bothering him and found himself in the library.

He racked his brain for where he’d seen that mark before until he settled on the Care of Magical Creatures section.

So, no Sirius love in this one but maybe you get the gist of where I’m going with it? I plan on taking this all the way past Prisoner of Azkaban. Any thoughts would be super welcome and if you want tagging then let me know :)

@siriusement 

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

[daresplaining]

not sure if you have been asked this before but how would you rate the daredevil runs from miller to soule, and why?

    It has taken literally a thousand years to answer this, and I apologize– it’s just a huge question, even skipping all of the pre-Frank Miller runs (thank you for that, by the way– maybe I’ll rank them in a separate post, because I love a lot of the pre-Miller stuff!). Every reread brings with it new insight, and so my preferences are ever-evolving. That said, here’s how I would rank the main Daredevil runs from Miller onward (I’m not including annuals, mini-series, or novels, and I’m skipping the really tiny one-or-two-issue runs for the sake of brevity):

1. Mark Waid Daredevil volumes 3 and 4 are, for me, a perfect encapsulation of everything that makes Daredevil great. It’s all there! Smirking, swashbuckly Matt pulling off badass feats to save the day? Check! Dark, emotionally turbulent Matt trying to cope as the world falls apart around him? Check! An excellent supporting cast? Check! Fantastic hypersensory moments? Check! Great stories? Stunning art? Stilt-Man? Check! Everyone needs to read this run. It’s pretty much perfect.

2. Brian Michael Bendis I’ve learned that my Daredevil preferences tend to lean light(er…), but dang, Bendis writes a heck of a noir comic. He balances intense crime drama with striking character moments, changes the status quo over and over again (in a good way), and gives Matt some of the best zingers he’s ever had. (Seriously. Bendis’s Matt is really funny.) He also gave us Milla Donovan and Angela Del Toro, and for that I am eternally grateful. And whooo, that Alex Maleev/Matt Hollingsworth art… This is a classic, enduring run for a very good reason.  

3. Karl Kesel/Joe Kelly Okay, I’m cheating here. These are two separate runs. But they happened back-to-back, had the exact same tone, and were great for all of the same reasons, so I usually squash them together. If Karl Kesel and Joe Kelly have a problem with this, they can take it up with me (preferably in person– I have a lot of comics for them to sign.) These runs are fun. The Daredevil pendulum swings from light to dark and back again, and these guys landed on the upswing, after Matt had reconnected with his quippy, swashbuckly past. They feel old-fashioned, nostalgic in the best possible way, not afraid to be a little silly while still delivering solid, character-rooted stories. And it helps that the cast of characters is top-notch. Karen is around, trying to re-start her life while juggling humorous relationship issues with Matt. Foggy’s family drama is on full-force as Rosalind Sharpe and Candace come to town. Misty Knight stops by, as does Natasha Romanov. Kathy Malpher, one of my favorite minor DD characters ever, has lots of panel time. Deuce the Devil Dog is there. And it all ends with the breathtaking DD #375, which has got to be one of my top five favorite issues of all time. If you haven’t read these runs yet, go do that and thank me later.  

4. Frank Miller Darkness is only effective when interspersed with some light, and lightness is only effective when injected with some darkness, and Frank Miller (pre-”Born Again”) hit that perfect balance. It’s noir. It’s deep. It’s intense. It’s also some of the funniest Daredevil material ever written. Please go back and read “Guts”, or “Hunters”, or the Power Man and Iron Fist crossover. Let me say it louder, because I feel like I’m alone here: I love Frank Miller’s Daredevil because it is FREAKING HILARIOUS! And it goes without saying that “Born Again” is also stunning– definitely one of my favorite DD stories. And he gave us Stick and the peerless Elektra Natchios (three different versions of her, in fact) and the world has never been the same.

5. Denny O’Neil Denny O’Neil had the misfortune of getting sandwiched between Frank Miller’s two runs, and I feel like that’s the reason he doesn’t get the attention he deserves for some truly fantastic comics. Uh… weird comics, in a lot of cases, but heck, I like well-done weirdness. O’Neil added an international angle to the comic. He sent Matt to Japan and Italy (and even- gasp- New Jersey) and brought in Glori O’Breen, a great character even with her slightly over-the-top accent. He reconnected Matt with Natasha Romanov for a few beautiful one-shot team-ups. He killed off Heather Glenn in a horrible way, but did it with such grace and style that it didn’t feel entirely gratuitous. And he’s responsible for “The Price”– one of my favorite stand-alone issues. Plus, the fact that he was working with David Mazzucchelli didn’t hurt either.  

6. Ann Nocenti Superhero comics– superhero comics writing in particular– has been a white male-dominated profession for far too long, and there are far too few women who have written Daredevil. I hate to start a discussion of Nocenti’s run with “Look! A woman!” but it’s worth pointing out because look at this list. Seriously. (And for anyone unfamiliar with the pre-Miller runs, I assure you, it’s more of the same.) Ann Nocenti’s run is fantastic for the ways it really digs into the heart of the material. She took the post-“Born Again” landscape and ran with it. This was the period that tied Matt to Hell’s Kitchen, and Nocenti made that plot point stick by showing us the fabric of the neighborhood, bringing in characters like the Fat Boys, placing Matt and Karen within the community with the founding of Karen’s free clinic, and turning the Hell’s Kitchen of the Marvel universe into a living, breathing place. In contrast, she also took Matt out of the city, and in doing so, wrote some of my favorite Daredevil stories. She wasn’t afraid to address pressing social issues. She wasn’t afraid to tell stories that were just plain weird. And her run is utterly unique and complex as a result.

7. Ed Brubaker/D.G. Chichester Yeah, okay, this is really cheating. These are two completely different runs, but they are nevertheless tied because of the same factor: I adore some parts, and dislike other parts. “The Devil in Cell Block D” (the first arc of Brubaker’s run) is phenomenal. I re-read it a lot. So is “Last Rites” (by Chichester). Chichester wrote two of my favorite stand-alone issues: “34 Hours” (vol. 1 #304) and “Just One Good Story” (vol. 1 #380). Brubaker gifted us with the awesomeness that is Maki Matsumoto (A.K.A. Lady Bullseye), and Master Izo! Chichester gave us D.A. Kathy Malpher, one of my favorite DD characters ever (bring her back, Marvel! Where did she go?)! Also, his hypersensory writing is visceral verging on gross– which, for me, is ideal. However, Brubaker’s run went downhill a bit after the first arc. I mentioned the light/dark balance in regards to Frank Miller’s run, and Brubaker went all dark. (I consider it the darkest DD run yet.) It’s great storytelling, but not my style. And while I love his shorter arcs, Chichester’s longer work– “Fall From Grace” and “Tree of Knowledge” in particular– don’t do it for me. I find them overly convoluted and lacking substance. Also, while Scott McDaniel draws my favorite rendition of the radar sense, he’s my least favorite DD artist. D.G. Chichester + Lee Weeks 4ever.

8. David Mack I like “Vision Quest” a lot more than “Parts of a Hole”, though that’s somewhat due to the artist switch partway through the latter. “Parts of a Hole” did an excellent job of introducing Maya Lopez, and has a lot of great moments, but “Vision Quest” is practically a piece of fine art. It’s stunning, both narratively and visually. I consider it more of an Echo comic than a DD comic, but it still belongs on this list.  

9. Charles Soule I haven’t had a chance to reread this run in its entirety, since it just ended, and I really need to do so because I’m having a hard time figuring out my feelings on it. There are aspects of Soule’s characterization of Matt that I disagree with. The sensory writing varied in quality, and we clearly have different perceptions of the radar sense. There was a distinct shortage of female characters– and, in fact, of side characters in general. And the mind wipe was a huge misstep, since it erased so many of Matt’s long-held friendships. In a comic that has traditionally drawn much of its power from its strong supporting casts and Matt’s dynamics with them, that decision has caused serious lasting damage. However, there’s also a lot I loved. Sam Chung, though (I feel) underused, is a great character in his own right, and he also provided the chance for us to see Matt in a long-term mentorship role– something I’ve wanted for a while now. Muse was a fascinating and terrifying antagonist. And Soule’s perspective as an actual lawyer added extra zip to many of his stories, whether it was putting Matt in the mayor’s office (finally!) or sending him to the Supreme Court in what may be my favorite law-centered DD story ever. But the real reason Soule’s name is this far up this list is because of the “Double Vision” arc (or, as I call it, “Mike Murdock Must Die 2.0″) which is sheer brilliance, and to my mind, one of the greatest Daredevil stories ever told.

10. Bob Gale “Playing to the Camera” does not get nearly as much credit as it deserves for being a genuinely hilarious superhero law-based comedy of errors, and a bright spot amid the angst-fest that is Daredevil volume 2. My major complaints are that it’s too short and I dislike the art.

11. Andy Diggle I don’t dislike “Shadowland”. I don’t love it, but it’s a cool story concept that suffered– as events often do– from storytelling spread too thin, across too many characters, in too short a timespan. (Though I need to know if he came up with the “Matt Murdock dared evil… and lost” tagline, because if so, that wordplay would rocket him right to the top of this list.) I prefer the lead-up to “Shadowland” to the event itself. But I love DD: Reborn (yes, I said I wasn’t going to cover mini-series, but it’s essentially part of the main comic because it bridges the gap between two volumes. I say it counts). I’ve always enjoyed stories that take Matt out of NYC, and Reborn is a fun adventure story that gets back to basics and serves as a great bookend for volume 2.  

12. Scott Lobdell I like “Flying Blind”. It’s quirky and unusual (which I appreciate), and Matt is written very well. I just don’t love it. It’s one of those arcs that slides right to the back of the memory and only returns to the forefront when you’re reflecting on the first time Matt ever saw Foggy, or wondering if Matt’s bad French in Brubaker’s run is left over from his SHIELD-implanted fluency. It’s a neat idea, but could have been executed in a more engaging, lasting way.

13. Gregory Wright This short run went right out of my head the instant I finished it the first time, and upon rereading it has remained fairly unmemorable. The art is hit-and-miss, and the story– while perfectly fine– isn’t anything exciting or innovative. There are some great hypersensory moments, it’s worth reading, but I don’t have much to say about it beyond that.

14. Alan Smithee “Alan Smithee” is a pseudonym used in the entertainment industry by writers who don’t want to be associated with a certain project. The commentary on manwithoutfear.com states that this run was actually written by Chichester, who used the pen name as a way of protesting his abrupt firing from the comic. I treat it as a separate run, since that’s clearly what he wanted. I always tend to group the Wright and Smithee runs together in my mind because they take place one after the other, are both very short (only 5 issues each), and are very similar in both tone and quality. I like the art in Smithee’s run more, and the writing is solid. However, the whole thing is colored for me by the horrific and unnecessary death of Glorianna O’Breen, a character I love. I’m perfectly fine with characters dying if their deaths are well-written and impactful (heck, I’ll be honest– I love a good death), but Glori’s demise just seems gratuitous, and is therefore not appealing to me.

15. J.M. DeMatteis This run is super weird, but not in an interesting way. It leans toward the religious, which is not my thing, and it relies on the dead sex worker storyline from Man Without Fear, which is really not my thing and should have stayed out of the main continuity. It’s good to read, because it’s a major shift in Matt’s life and sets up the fabulous Kesel/Kelly runs, but… eh. That said, Matt battling his different identities in a graveyard while getting heckled by Stick, and yellow suit DD running around creating mayhem, are 100% my things… so credit where’s it’s due.  

16. Kevin Smith You may have noticed that “Guardian Devil”, the first arc of Daredevil volume 2, the run that rescued the series after its cancellation and brought Matt Murdock to the forefront of the Marvel street-level universe once more…! …is rarely ever mentioned on this blog. That’s because I really don’t like it. At all. I’m grateful to Smith for bringing readers back to DD, but would be happy if he never wrote these characters again. His run is poorly paced, out-of-character, and covers themes/topics/etc. that I personally don’t enjoy. I forced myself through it because I’m a Daredevil completist, but I haven’t read it again. I probably will someday, just to make sure I remember all of the key plot points, but… not yet.  

[theonewiththefanfics]

Reciprocated (one-shot)

Summary: College!AU

After being bothered by Brock Rumlow’s incessant pestering of asking the Reader out, she agrees but obviously regrets it. She has a ginormous crush on the star quarterback Bucky Barnes, who unbeknownst to her is absolutely head over heels for the girl and when she needs help getting rid of Brock, he turns into her knight in shining armour.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: legit none

Genre: tiny bit angst; fluuuuufffff

Word count: 2894

   Y/N Y/L/N was the typical college nerd. Her head always stuck in a book, parties never being her scene, but the difference between high-school where she was teased for things like that was that here no one cared. Everyone was too engrossed in their own struggles with keeping up with assignments, having a social life and extra activities. Y/N was even great friends with the captain of their football team ‘The Howling Commandos" Steve Rogers.    They had bonded over their mutual hatred for their non-fiction teacher. Y/N was studying Creative Writing in hopes of becoming a full-fledged novelist one day while Steve wanted to be a sports reporter/ journalist.    “God, her voice is just so annoying,” he’d muttered underneath his breath one time while the teacher had droned on about something. Y/N couldn’t even remember what the lesson had consisted of.    “You should see her in publishing. She doesn’t even know how half the websites we’re supposed to use works.” The girl had muttered back, not really expecting an answer, but Steve immediately whipped his head towards her, a pained expression on his face.    “You have her for publishing!? Oh, you poor thing! I’m so sorry!”    A snort escaped Y/N, while she extended a hand towards the guy. “Y/N Y/L/N.”    “I know. You’re in the top three of every class,” Y/N’s cheeks heated up at the statement, but she wasn’t embarrassed by her accomplishments more so that others noticed it. “Steve Rogers,” he replied shaking her hand.    Y/N smirked, jotting down a few useless notes, knowing that she’ll have to go to the library to find the information herself to actually understand what the teacher had said. “I know. Your face is plastered all over campus. Running for Student President’s seat.”    Now Steve was the one blushing. “Uh, yeah,” he stammered, “thought it might look good on my CV. And I do think that I could improve things,” he quickly added, “at least I hope so. Don’t wanna idly sit around these four years, well now three and not do anything.”

   “Well,” Y/N smiled at him seeing his face flushed from the corner of her eye, “you’ve got a vote from me them.”    And that is how their friendship started. Steve introduced her to his friends and to her surprise all of them were really nice. The football team was completely opposite of what one would imagine, given the movie stereotypes that are seen in movies, especially when communicating with such a hermit like Y/N.    Being in their second year of studying was a lot of fun, except for certain lectures, of course. But what was even worse than a nasal teacher droning on and on about proofreading and editing was Y/N’s social life more specifically- her love life.    It’s not that she hadn’t had boyfriends before, but right now her main concern was her career and her studies. That’s why she found herself slamming Steve’s door open and rushing in, the eyes of his girlfriend Natasha- the head cheerleader and an incredibly nice, let alone attractive girl-, Sam- the vice president of the student union- and Bucky- quarterback of the football team and Y/N’s longtime secret crush- all staring at her with wide eyes.    “Sorry guys,” she heaved out, looking through the peeping hole, “sorry.” She crouched down as if the person or people the girl was hiding from could see her through the wooden door.    “You okay there, doll?” it was Bucky who took away her attention. The guy had started calling Y/N the little nickname the second they’d met. She thought that it’s how he referred to every girl, but little did Y/N know that it was only her.    “Fine,” she slowly slid up to look through the tiny glass hole and seeing that the coast was clear, she let out a breath the girl didn’t even know she was holding. Y/N gently placed down her laptop on the mantelpiece, while sliding her backpack off. Bucky had stood up from the couch and approached the girl taking her jacket off and hanging it.    “Such a gentleman,” she teased while ruffling through her Y/H/C. They were good friends, quickly hitting it off with their mutual love for everything space and science, yet she always kept her distance, afraid to let her true feelings slip. And even though Steve had told the girl many times Bucky couldn’t stop talking about her and that the man was head over heels for the girl, she didn’t believe him.    “Well not helping out such a pretty dame would be a sin.” There it was- that cocky smile, yet at the same time oddly affectionate as he looked down at Y/N. Her heart skipped a beat, but before anything could happen, Steve, pulled her out of the daydream.    “So you wanna tell us what happened or do we have to go beat someone up?”    “What, no! God, Steve stop!” Y/N flopped down onto the couch between Nat and Sam, where Bucky’s place had been. “Remember that guy Brock?”    “Rumlow?” Bucky was leaning on the back of the sofa right behind Y/N his palms clasped on her shoulders.    “Yeah. He’s been pestering me for a while to go out on a date and I just got so fed up with it, and his inability to take a hint, I just…. gave in.”    “And?” Nat was nudging Y/N, while rubbing soothing circles on her thigh, clearly seeing in how much distress the girl was in.    “And he was an asshole! A boring one at that. And now,” she emphasised the word feeling Bucky’s grip on her shoulders tighten, “he wants to go on another date.”    Sam’s eyes almost popped out of his head “You can’t be seriously thinking about going?”    “I may joke about wanting to die and not having a soul, but I’m not a masochist,” she deadpanned while keeping a completely straight face. “I just don’t know what to do! I keep telling him that I’m busy and I can’t but he just won’t stop.”    The room fell silent for a second. Everyone was pondering over what Y/N had said and what she should do before Bucky broke the tension. “Was he the one you were running away from?    “Mhm,” she nodded, feeling the man’s fingers scrape her skull as he massaged her head. Y/N almost moaned in pleasure but kept it to a deep sight. And let’s just not mention the butterflies in a hurricane rolling around her stomach. “I pretended to have my headphones in and to not to hear him, but I can’t do it every time and I just…. wanna die!” Y/N whined pressing her scalp in Bucky’s hands who cradled her head and put a little bit of pressure on her temples, rubbing them in a soothing motion.    He kept on doing his movements more so because the quarterback had fallen for the shy girl way too hard and this could be the only time he got to console her like this, let alone hold her. Then an idea popped into his head. It involved some pretty selfish things as he didn’t think Y/N reciprocated his feelings, but it would definitely get Rumlow off of her back and just the simple thought of Y/N on a date with that ass made bile rise up to his throat.    “I have a plan, but we can do this only,” he looked deep into Y/N’s eyes, getting lost for a second with how the evening sun made them sparkle, “only if you trust me.”    “Buck, you know I do. We've been friends for more than a year now and besides, you're Steve's best friend.”    There came a sound of protest from Sam, but neither took it to heart.    “Tomorrow morning, when you see Brock at any point in time, just come and find me. We’ll probably be by the main campus door; an early practice.”    Y/N squinted not really sure what cogs had started to turn under those long brown locks she just wanted to rake her hands through. “What’s your play here, Barnes?”    “Trust me,” he lent down whispering in a conspiratory tone, sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine, while his own heart threatened to hammer out of his chest, “it’ll get Rumlow off of your back forever.”

***

   It was 8:20 in the morning and Y/N was already on campus. She hadn’t really slept throughout the night, too excited for what was about to happen. Her first lecture started at nine, so the girl still had plenty of time to kill. She’d gone on a coffee run, given the fact that Steve and Bucky would be almost dead, after having to get up at 5 AM for their practice. Barnes’s black coffee still sent tendrils of steam through the plastic lid, while Steve’s latte and Natasha’s mocha had already gone down from scalding hot to ‘just-the-way-I-like-it’.    Ten minutes later and she could hear the roaring laughter of the Commandoes as they made their way across campus, coincidentally enough coming from the other side of the field was Brock, having spotted Y/N.    But it would seem that Bucky truly was a knight in shining armour.    “Doll!” he exclaimed opening up his arms as if awaiting a hug. “If this ain’t the prettiest sight on an early morning, then cut out my eyes and leave me blind. And you brought coffee! Truly you are amazing!” He whisked up Y/N eliciting a genuine squeal more from surprise rather than happiness.    Her Y/E/C eyes saw the two top lawyer students Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson walk by and her jaw dropped open when Matt laughed out loud at the blind joke. “So true, Buck. You’re one lucky guy.”    “What is going on?” Y/N hissed into Bucky’s ear.    “Relax, doll. Just roll with it.”    Y/N almost wanted to ask ‘roll with what’ when her brain caught up to his shtick. He was pretending they were together. It sent a mix of emotions through the girl- happiness, sadness, bitterness, that this was all a ploy to get Rumlow off of her back and not real, relief that she had such amazing friends and even a wave of jealousy as she realised after this, he’d probably go back to pining after other girls.    Brock’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion yet he still made his way towards the pair, or rather their group as Steve, Nat, Sam and their friends Tony and Bruce- literal geniuses- had also joined. Y/N handed out the respective coffees trying not to acknowledge Brock’s appearance, but his voice didn’t give her much chance of that.    “Y/L/N. You look lovely this morning. Though what would be lovelier is if you would ditch the loser bunch and come hang out with me.”    Bucky’s grip around her shoulders tightened, the metal plates whirring as they positioned themselves. He’d lost his left arm in a car accident, but Tony’s father- owner of Stark Industries- had specifically designed a new one for him, the two families of Barnes and Stark being close friends. Still, even without an arm, he was the hottest guy in the school. At least in Y/N’s opinion.    “Sorry, we have to head to class,” he shot back giving Brock a mocking smile that was still nothing short of dazzling.    “Hey, hey wait! I think the lady can speak for herself and if you could take your arrogant head out of your ass, Barnes, you’d realise we have a thing going on here and she’d most definitely want to spend her time with me.”    Y/N couldn’t contain the sigh that escaped her as she rolled her eyes and head simultaneously. “There is nothing going on between us Rumlow. I went out with you just because you couldn’t take a hint. And as you might see,” she pointed with one finger, the rest still holding her coffee cup, “I am with someone.”    God, did Bucky love the way it sounded when she said she was with him.    God, how right did it feel for Y/N to say she was with Bucky.    They turned to leave but Brock was relentless. “Come on Y/L/N. I know what you’re doing.”    Y/N quirked up an eyebrow also noting that they were causing quite the scene as more and more students started to pile in for their 9AMs and decided to stop to see how the situation would get resolved.    “You’re playing hard to get. Trust me, I know tons of girls like you, but you don’t have to do that with me sweet-cheeks. Just drop the act and let’s go.”    “The fact that you have the audacity to think Y/N would even give you the time of day to play such games, after so many times she has told you ‘no’, really baffles my mind,” being a surprise to everyone it was Bruce who spoke up. The usually very quiet and scientific boy really looked at Brock as if he had suddenly sprouted an elephant’s trunk.    Bucky knew he had to act fast or this could turn ugly because he could see Brock’s friends from “Hydra”, the local motorcycle gang, approaching real fast.    “Do you trust me?” he mumbled into Y/N’s hair getting a whiff of her shampoo and almost just staying there like that- engrossed in her smell.    The girl’s only reply was a tiny nod of her head. She felt Bucky’s fingers underneath her chin as he lifted it up and for second there existed no one but the two of them. His ice-blue eyes bore into her Y/E/C and she could see, she could swear on everything that she held dear, there was true love in them. And before she could do anything they were closed and his lips were on hers.    A pleasant shiver ran down her spine as Bucky’s hand snaked around to hold the small of her back. And even though the kiss lasted barely a few seconds it felt like an eternity. His lips were softer than she could’ve ever imagined, barely pressing against hers, but as she didn’t pull away a small smirk appeared on Bucky’s face that Y/N couldn’t help but mirror.    When the two separated bashful smiles graced the lips of both the girl and the man. Suddenly a thunderous noise of applause invaded their ears, popping the bubble. Everyone was clapping, some of Bucky’s teammates were hollering ‘finally Barnes’ and ‘took you long enough’ and ‘we thought we might have to go and tell her ourselves’.    “Tell me what?” she looked up at Bucky, once again in that safe bubble, she always felt when around him.    He replied without any hesitation, still holding on to Y/N’s waist as if to reassure him, she was there, they had just kissed and hopefully, she won’t run away. “That I’m absolutely, irrevocably and utterly head over heels for you, doll. Have been since the second Steve introduced me to you and, good grief, have I been dying to kiss you.”    Time slowed down for them. There was no Brock, no “Hydra” or “Howling Commandoes”, no Steve, with a grin stretched across his face so tightly Nat was afraid it would actually split his cheeks open. Nor did they see quite a few people exchange money as pretty much the whole school had bets going on when Barnes would muster up the courage and ask Y/N out or how long it would take the quiet girl to realise that everyone could see her longing gazes that she threw at Bucky, but could not open her eyes to see the same coming from Bucky.    “Well then,” she cleared her throat dropping Bucky’s gaze just to tease him a bit as her lips pulled into a thin line. The man’s face turned into a horrified grimace that he’d overstepped a line and more so than anything, he felt his heart shatter with the fact that Y/N didn't feel the same. “It’s a good thing I’m in love with you too, otherwise all of this would be really awkward.”    “You- what?” he was so confused.    “I said,” she leaned in closer, Bucky’s nostrils filling with her scent as a hopeful look appeared in his eyes, “that I love you too. And that means you’ll be able to get to do this more often.”    “Do what more often?” he was now teasing the girl the same way she was him.    “This,” and Y/N pressed their lips together. Only this time, neither let go.

A/N: I’m a literal mess.. but thank you so much for showing such love to my Bucky one-shot Perfect. It blows my mind how many of you liked it, really from the bottom of my heart, a giant thank you!  ;****

P.S. have any requests or wanna be tagged? drop a message

P.S.S. please tell me what you think

P.S.S.S. please don’t repost without credit :)

[moodyvalentinestories]

Camping | Tara (MC) x Thomas Hunt

Summary:  MC (Tara) goes camping with her friends and decides to invite Hunt.

Author’s Note: Wanted to write, but do something different. Stumbled upon the @choices-september-challenge . Figured I might as well write something for it. Hope it doesn’t suck.

Word Count: 2292

Also available on AO3 if anyone prefers reading stuff over there.

When Matt asked me if I was going to join him and the rest of our friends on their camping trip, I was hesitant. I'd planned to spend my days off in Hollywood. Specifically, hanging out in the locales I knew a certain director frequented. I'd had a bit of a thing for him for a while now, but working together on The Last Duchess intensified my feelings. I knew I didn't have a chance with him, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to try. Then it came to me: I could just invite him.

Sure, he would probably say no. The great Thomas Hunt most certainly had better things to do than spending half a week in the middle of nowhere with my friends and me. But it was worth a shot, right?

So, here I was, staring at my phone, his number already put in. He would laugh at me.

"What a ridiculous suggestion," I could already hear him in my mind. "Is this another one of your jokes, Tara?"

This was a terrible idea. I was clearly insane. Nonetheless, I took a deep breath and hit the call button. Absolutely fucking delusional, that's what I was.

"Tara?" I heard his voice, and my heart began to race.

"Yes," I replied. "It's me." My hands were so sweaty that I was afraid my phone would slip away. "I wanted to ask you something."

"So ask," he simply said.

Another deep breath. "Well, we just wrapped filming and I figured we should celebrate."

There was a pause. Then, Thomas said, very slowly, "Yes, we will. At the wrap party at the end of the week."

"No, I mean now. Not publicly. My... my friends invited me on a camping trip," I explained.

"I don't understand."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Would you like to come with us, Thomas?"

Even though I didn't see him, I knew exactly what look he had on his face right now. I could imagine it all too well. How his eyes would widen and his jaw would drop. Just for a split second, though. He would compose himself quickly enough and then immediately say--

"Why would I want to do that?" he replied.

My heart dropped. I'd expected this, but still...

"Well, I mean... you must be so stressed... and it would be a great opportunity to unwind," I stuttered.

For a few seconds -- it felt like an eternity -- he was silent. I was almost scared he'd hung up on me. Then he spoke. "I suppose... how long would this trip be? And who will be coming?"

I almost jumped up and down from excitement. It wasn't a yes yet, but it wasn't a hard no, either. "It will just be my closest friends. Matt, Victoria, Chazz... Teja and Seth, too. We'd drive out to the desert for just a couple days. Absolutely back for the wrap party if that's what you're worried about," I said, trying to conceal my excitement.

"You realise I haven't agreed, don't you?" Thomas said.

"Pretty please? It would mean a lot."

"Don't resort to begging, Tara." He was quiet for a bit, probably mulling it over. "Very well. I will join you."

"Aww, yes," I squealed. "I'll text you the details."

"Can't you just--"

I'd hung up before he could protest any more, a huge smile on my face. He'd said yes. I couldn't believe it. He was going to go on a camping trip with me. We were going to be in the middle of nowhere, far from anyone else but my friends. This was my chance.

I quickly texted Thomas everything he needed to know and called Matt to tell him someone else would be joining us. I was worried he'd be mad, since I hadn't asked beforehand, but he seemed alright with it.

The following morning, we all met up at Matt's place. Everyone but Thomas was already there when I arrived. After all, they'd been the one who planned it all.

"Where's your date, Tara?" Victoria asked, arms crossed. "I thought we were gonna leave... well, right now."

"Not my date," I said. "And I'm sure he'll be here soon. He's not usually late..."

Just as I'd finished my sentence a car drove up to the driveway. As he got out of the car, I heard someone gasp slightly. I turned to the others and saw the shock written on their faces.

"You invited Thomas Hunt?" Chazz asked. "No way."

"Yes way," I chimed and walked towards Thomas to greet him. "Glad you could make it. Even though you're... late."

He scowled. "I am aware. LA traffic is--"

"Just the worst. Trust me, I know," I chuckled. "Come on now, everyone's waiting."

"All right, everyone. We've got two cars. There's mine. Victoria's already decided to ride with me," Matt said.

"It is the more comfortable car," she said, shrugging.

"Or you can drive with me," Chazz said.

"I call shotgun for Chazz' car," Seth said.

Teja rolled her eyes. "Guess that means I'm going with Matt. No way I'm gonna be stuck in a car with you."

Clearly, they still hadn't worked through their differences. Matt shot me a meaningful look. So that must have been a reason for that trip.

"What about you two? Tara? Mr Hunt?" Chazz asked, looking at me as if to say 'Please save me from listening to Seth complaining about Teja for hours.'

"I'll have to go with Chazz."

"Then so will I," Thomas said, surprising me. I would have figured he'd have preferred Matt's more luxurious car over Chazz'... well... piece of junk.

Merely a couple of minutes later, everything was packed into the trunks, and we were all in the cars. Matt drove first, leading the way for us.

No one talked for the first couple of miles. Chazz and Seth both didn't seem entirely comfortable with Thomas in the car. And, to be honest, neither did he. Though that may have had something to do with the fact that the car was tiny, forcing him to be much closer to me than he probably wanted to be. After a little while, though, the atmosphere lightened.

Unsurprisingly, it was Seth that started the conversation. He told us about the movie he and Teja were working on and, even though the two of them didn't get along right now, he still seemed so excited for it. Soon, we were all talking about our jobs and projects. Even Thomas eventually joined the conversation when Chazz started talking about working at Ethan Blake's agency. Apparently, Ethan had been a student of Thomas' a couple years ago.

Everything worked out much better than I could have anticipated. Despite the initial awkwardness, the car ride turned out to be quite enjoyable. Though, if one was to ask Thomas, he would have probably said it was tolerable at best.

We got to the campsite in the late afternoon. That's when, for the first time, an actual problem arose.

We'd just put up the tents when Thomas said, "There are only four tents."

"Yeah, Seth and Chazz are sharing, so are Teja and I. Matt needs his own -- more space because of his injuries, and Victoria's just... well, Victoria," I explained, not realising my error until I'd finished talking. Oh. I'd completely forgotten to tell Thomas to bring a tent. "Oh."

Stupid, stupid subconscious. I knew a part of me must have wanted to forget to tell him.

"Well, this is awkward," Seth said.

"I mean... you could sleep with me in mine," Matt offered.

Teja shook her head. "Nonsense. Matt, you need the space. Tara brought him so she should share with him. I'm sure Vic would be fine sharing with me, right?"

"Call me Vic again and I'll kill you in your sleep," she replied.

"Is that a yes?" Teja asked.

Victoria looked at me, then at Thomas, then back to me. Her lips formed a sly smile. "You know what? I think I can make that sacrifice. It's for a good cause, after all."

"So it's settled then," Teja said, grinning as she looked at the two of us.

"I do not think that is a good idea," Thomas protested.

I raised an eyebrow. "Would you rather not sleep in a tent?"

"Of course not. But I'm sure there is another--"

"Nope," Seth said, clearly having picked up on what Teja and Victoria had noticed already. "This is how it's going to be."

Thomas looked around somewhat helplessly, hoping someone else would tell them how idiotic the idea was. Of course, no one did.

"Very well," he huffed. "For the record, I still think this is a bad idea."

I grinned. "Aw, come on. I'm not that bad."

"I... I never said you were. I just don't think--"

"Shhh," I cut him off. "Don't think. It only makes things worse."

He blushed, then quickly frowned. Without another word, he disappeared into the tent. Our tent.

Matt and Teja started making a fire for the night as it was starting to get dark.

Not much later, we were all sat around it. Well, all except Thomas. He'd decided he'd go to bed early so he wouldn't be too tired for the little trip we'd planned for tomorrow.

Despite the obvious tension between Teja and Seth, we were having a great time as we roasted marshmallows and talked about anything and everything. The evening passed by quickly, and before we knew it, we were all tired and ready for bed as well.

I snuck into my tent as quietly as I could so I wouldn't wake Thomas only to see that he was still awake.

"Finally," he said. "I thought you would never shut up."

I raised an eyebrow as I unpacked my sleeping bag. "We weren't even that loud."

"I could hear you. It was too loud to sleep."

"We are here to have fun, you know?" I said and spread out my sleeping bag. I turned to him, studying his face. "Did you listen to what we talked about?"

He didn't answer, but even in the faint light of the flashlight, I could see him blush. That gave it away.

"So? Any opinions you'd like to share?" I asked as I turned around to take off my shirt.

He coughed slightly, making me grin. I knew he was looking. Maybe he didn't want to, but he was. "I didn't listen because I was interested. I didn't have a choice in the matter."

I laughed as I unclasped my bra.

"Tara," Thomas said, almost warningly.

"What?" My grin widened. A sudden surge of confidence came over me. It was now or never. I turned around, entirely topless, taking Thomas by surprise. He stared at my bare breasts with wide eyes, his mouth agape. I could tell he wanted to look away, but he didn't.

"Tara, what are you doing?" he croaked, then finally averted his eyes.

"Just changing into my pyjamas," I said with a shrug as I pulled down my pants as well.

He was still watching me, out of the corner of his eye. I could tell by the way his expression changed as I undid the button of my jeans.

"This is precisely why I consider this a bad idea," Thomas said, his voice merely a whisper now.

There I was, in front of the man I wanted more than anything else in the world, wearing nothing but my panties. And it was clear that it affected him. I would have been a fool not to act.

"Bad idea?" I asked. "Why would you say that?"

He forced himself not to look at me. "Because you do things like this."

"Did you expect me to sleep in my day clothes?" I asked innocently.

"I certainly did not expect you to put on a strip show right in front of me," he said.

"If that's what you see, that's your fault. I was just getting changed." I crossed my arms in front of my chest, and he finally looked at me again.

He was obviously conflicted, his face conveying a wide array of different emotions all at once. "I... I..."

"Thomas Hunt, speechless?" I chuckled. "That's a first."

He cleared his throat and got his face under control. The signature scowl was back. "I thought you wanted to put on your pyjamas."

"Do you want me to?" I asked, removing my arms that were covering my chest and scooting closer to him.

"I... I do," he stuttered.

I moved closer. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he whispered weakly.

I lowered my head so our faces were only inches apart. "Really?"

"Please, Tara..."

"Please what? Stop?" I asked. "Do you want me to stop?"

He didn't reply at first. He just stared into my eyes with a mixture of lust and longing in his. Then he finally said, his voice raspy, "No."

That was all I needed. In a split second, my lips were on his. A moment I had waited for, ever since we started filming. No. Truly, ever since that night at the bar. When he'd told me about the movie for the very first time.

The kiss was everything I'd hoped it would be. Passionate. Intoxicating.

Thomas poured just as much of himself into the kiss as I had. Maybe even more. His arms found wrapped around me, pulling me closer towards him.

When we parted, way too soon, he smiled up at me. "Oh, Tara. Why are you doing this to me?"

I smiled back at him. "You still think this is a bad idea?"

"Oh, absolutely," he said, but his actions contradicted his words as he pulled me back down, into another fervent kiss.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Kidge Parent HC Part 2.4

Holy crow I was hoping to get this done a lot sooner than I did but it’s here now! The next part will probably take even longer since it’s going to be going over the family dynamic as a whole, how the kids bounce off of one another, their interests and personalities, etc., as well as me wanting to get some more fics out before then so I hope you’ll all stick around for it!

Also, I’ll hopefully be uploading a newer, better schedule for my stories/ projects later today, so there’s that. :3

Kidge Married Pre-Babies: [here]

Kidge w/ Babies Part 2.1: [here]

Kidge w/ Babies Part 2.2: [here]

Kidge w/ Babies Part 2.3: [here] *There’s a little angst in this one, FYI

Also, note taken from the start of Part 2.1, but:  Forewarning that there will be some mentions of Allurance in all these parts, but I’m not tagging it because they aren’t given any real focus. Additionally, since I know some of this stuff can squick some people out, warning that there will be somewhat-detailed talk about pregnancy, birth, and what exactly comes in the early stages with a newborn so please be wary if such things make you uncomfortable.

Small Notes I Forgot to Mention Last Time:

Oliver’s full name is Oliver Maxwell Kogane. His middle name is actually a suggestion from Colleen; Maxwell was the name Colleen and Samuel had settled on when they were expecting Pidge if she had been born a boy. I originally planned for his middle name to be Samuel, after Pidge’s dad and I think I referred to him as such once in a fic?? but I changed my mind on that.

Also, the onesie they brought him home in was gray with a tiny robot on it that read “I like pushing buttons”.

The Fourth Baby

So, Keith and Pidge had agreed that Oliver was going to be their last, but that isn’t exactly how it plays out. Oliver had just turned a year old a few weeks prior, Kaden’s third birthday was right around the corner, and Amber would be turning seven in October. Pidge realizes that her period is late and has a sinking suspicion as to why, but also doesn’t want to jump the gun. After two weeks pass, she picks up a few tests and they all come back positive.

She’s not surprised and is pretty happy, but she’s also really worried how Keith and the kids will take the news. Oliver – obviously – doesn’t remember all the trouble from his own birth and Kaden was too little to really remember, but Amber and Keith certainly do.

Amber actually went for about two weeks where she had nightmares about losing her Mommy and ended up joining Keith and Pidge in their bed. They had considered getting her into therapy, but after they started seriously talking about it the nightmares tapered off so they decided to hold off, not really sure of what would be the best option for her. It’s been over a year since the last time she did that, but Pidge worries that this will kick it all up for her and send her anxieties back up to max.

Pidge decides to breach the subject when they’re cleaning up after dinner that night. Surprisingly, all three kids take the news extremely well. She’s especially pleased with how happy Amber is at the idea of having another little sibling to look after, helping to curb some of Pidge’s anxiety. Keith, however, does not take it well. He turns and straight-up leaves the house for the night, heading off in the Black Lion for parts unknown.

Amber and Kaden are a bit worried about Keith’s reaction, while Oliver is blissfully unaware of what’s going on.

*Kaden, standing on tip-toes to put his cup in the sink.* “Mommy, is Daddy angry?”

“Daddy’s a little upset but it’ll be okay.” *Said with a small sigh, picking up a plate and scrubbing it clean.*

“Is he upset about the new baby?” *Amber, taking the cleaned plate and putting it in the dishwasher.*

“It’s… complicated, sweetheart.”

“Does Daddy not love the new baby?”

*Pidge, freezing and looking down at Amber in alarm at the question. Amber meets her gaze, refusing to shy away despite how uncomfortable she is with the thought.* “… No, Amber, that’s not it. Daddy is just… very scared. And sometimes when Daddy gets scared he goes away for a little bit to think things through.”

The kids stop asking question after that. They finish cleaning up from dinner, Pidge gets them all settled into bed, and goes to lie down herself. She doesn’t fall asleep, just kinda lays there and lets her mind reel through all the different responses she could get from Keith. She lays there for about two hours before she hears footsteps on the stairs.

She doesn’t say anything when he opens the door and slips inside, heading to the bathroom and getting ready for bed as quietly as he can. He slips in beside her and pulls her flush against him. She twists in his arms so that she’s facing him, settling one hand on his shoulder and the other on the side of his face. He closes his eyes and leans into her touch.

“Do you feel a little better now? Had a chance to cool down?”

“I’m… Yeah. I wasn’t angry, you know.”

“I know that, but the kids didn’t, and it was hard explaining to them. Especially Amber… She asked a really difficult question.”

*He shifts to lean his forehead against hers and sighs.* “I swear, she’s too sharp… What did she ask?”

“She asked if you weren’t going to love this baby like you love them.”

*Keith’s eyes snap open and he looks absolutely mortified, which Pidge had been kind of expecting.* “Jesus, I… I may not be exactly thrilled right now, but I would never-! I… I’m worried and scared about what could happen, but that doesn’t mean I won’t love the baby… Did I really make that much of a scene when I left?”

“It’s less making a scene and more that the kids aren’t really used to that side of you, I think. They’re more used to their happy, goofy Daddy and the occasionally stern Daddy. A Daddy that’s really upset and needs to walk away, though? Not really something you’ve had to do much in front of them. They don’t know what an impulsive little shit you used to be.” *Pidge is gentle as she speaks, moving to wrap her arms around him and give him a few quick pecks between words to help soothe him, and grows a bit more playful at her last statement.*

“Keith chuckles quietly.* “You know, I seem to remember somebody else who used to be pretty impulsive when they were younger… Name stared with a ‘P’ and ended with an ‘Idge’, I believe.”

“I’m afraid that I, Katie, have never met this person.”

“…”

“…”

“Oh, you are such a little sneak!” *Keith says, but he’s laughing, so she considers it progress.*

They have a long talk about the whole thing and agree that they have every intention of seeing this through. Keith does, however, insist that if Pidge feels like anything about the pregnancy feels weird or drastically different that she make sure to tell him. He literally doesn’t care about the medical expenses they might accrue; he’ll rush her to the ER over anything this time around if it prevents an incident like they had with Oliver.

The next morning they wake up to Amber and Kaden both flopped over on top of Keith. They were worried that their Daddy was sad so they came in to cuddle the happy back into him. Keith sits and talks with them and explains things as best he can while Pidge goes and gets Oliver out of his crib in his own room.

The Altea Clan finds out about the pregnancy first, due to Pidge and Keith inquiring as to whether Allura can keep the Castle on Earth for an extended period of time. Due to Allura’s diplomacy training from her youth, Lance’s natural charisma, and Coran’s wealth of knowledge, the three of them have been travelling the galaxy helping to maintain the coalition and spread peace even further; it’s also a good way, in Allura’s opinion, to teach their children how to be proper diplomats too. Allura is immediately tickled at them having another child and explains they’d been planning to take a little break to spend more time with Lance’s family on Earth, seeing as the kids have been wanting to spend more time with their extended family, so having the Castle Ship at a moment’s notice won’t be an issue. This is a huge relief to Keith, as his biggest concern is making sure that Pidge and the baby are safe.

Hunk and Shiro find out shortly after them. Hunk echoes a lot of the same concerns that Keith had – complications and risks for Pidge and the baby – but also assures that he’ll be as supportive as ever. Shiro agrees that so long as they’re both okay with it than he’s happy for them. They’re both further settled by the fact that Allura and the Castle Ship will also be nearby, just in case.

After that they tell Krolia and the Holts. Krolia and Colleen are both thrilled at the idea of another little grandbaby to dote on, Samuel seems a bit concerned but is also extremely supportive, while Matt voices that he thinks it’s a bad idea, even with the Castle Ship around just in case, but agrees to support them. This irritates Pidge a bit but she opts against making a scene at the time, simply because she doesn’t need the stress.

So, what does Pidge get in the way of symptoms this time around? She gets really, really mild nausea – like, to the point where it only seems that certain foods trigger it – as well as less severe moods swings. Other than that, the only thing that’s really different, is that her sex drive is a little more kicked up this pregnancy. But even that is fixed by sleepovers with their grandparents. ;3c

Other little tidbit; because they are serious about this being their last baby, Keith gets a vasectomy pretty shortly after they find out Pidge is pregnant. Vasectomies are significantly less invasive procedures than having the Fallopian tubes tied off, has a faster turn-around rate from surgery to full recovery, and they can nip any potential other pregnancies in the bud before they’re even possible. Another reason they take care of it as soon as they do is because Keith does need to have a good few days of taking it easy since he’ll be tender down there, and Pidge needs to still be well enough to look after the kids and help him as best he can.

Colleen and Sam help out by taking the kids for an overnight visit the first night after the procedure, which helps Pidge out in regards to prioritizing where her attention should be, since their kids are extremely energetic little stinkers and would make it way harder in the immediate.

So, back to the situation with the new baby!

Pidge’s due date this time around is in early-to-mid December. Keith points out this means they’ll have a baby for all seasons, which makes Pidge laugh.

This baby is a bit different from their siblings in regards to settling down. When this one starts kicking and shifting around, they only seem to calm down when someone starts humming/ singing at them. Pidge usually just hums, because it’s a bit easier, but Keith will actually lean close to Pidge’s belly and gently serenade the new baby. And when Pidge is at home with the older kids, Amber and Kaden will put on little concerts to try and help soothe their baby sibling. It never works, since it’s more a cacophony of noise with them, but Pidge still finds it ridiculously sweet so she never tells them the truth.

They are informed that they’ll be having a little girl this time around! Amber is wildly excited about this while Kaden is a little disappointed. Pidge is pleased because she’s been of the opinion that they needed a little less testosterone in the house.

They have another family meeting to determine how to proceed with things involving the new baby, specifically to discuss room theme. Pidge is taking a nap at the time since she had to have blood drawn at her doctor’s appointment that day and the nurse that did it was new and had trouble finding a vein, so she’s feeling a little worn out.

*Amber, clearing her throat and calling the meeting to order.* “Today, we must decide what Baby Sister’s room is going to look like! This is a very important matter, right, Daddy?”

“Oh, absolutely.” *Keith, chuckling a bit as he settles in between the boys, Oliver fiddling with the junk mail on the table.*

“I think we should do something about when she’s gonna be here! Playing in the snow is really fun, and I’m sure that playing with Bbay Sister is gonna be really fun, so we have to do something for both!”

“I got an idea! Her room should be about Christmas!” *Kaden, all big eyes and excitement, flailing one hand in the air wildly.*

*Amber, flashing him a bland look.* “She’s not gonna be born on Christmas, though.”

*Kaden, pouting and crossing his arms.* “But she’s gonna be born near Christmas!”

“Not close enough!”

“Yeah huh!”

“Nuh uh!”

*Oliver suddenly shrieks and slams his hand down on a magazine that came in the mail, silencing the argument and Keith’s preparation to chime in.* “Twee!”

*Keith chuckles and leans over to look at the magazine.* “You’re getting so good with words, buddy! That is… a… tree…”

The picture that Oliver had been talking about was of a scenic, snowy ski resort. Pidge and Keith went one year for their anniversary – before the kids – and been automatically enrolled in their subscription. They normally just tossed them out, but Keith had wanted to see if they’d received the notice on when Amber’s next dentist appointment was from her dentist and hadn’t purged the junk yet. And he is suddenly given an excellent idea that will appease both kids.

They agree on a “Winter Wonder” theme for the new baby’s room, giving it the winter theme that Amber had wanted, with the agreement that during December they can hang some tinsel and little ornaments so that they can still have a Christmas-y feel like Kaden wanted. And it’s painted to look like a snowy forest, because of Oliver’s input, too.

Painting the room and putting everything together is done by Keith, Shiro, Hunk, Matt, Amber and Kaden. Oliver waddles around in his little walker and just kinda shouts random words he remembers at everyone as he works. Hunk claims this is his way of offering moral support. Pidge thinks the whole thing is a ridiculously adorable spectacle.

The onesie they pick out for Baby Girl is white with a yellow trim and a pastel pink unicorn on the front. It also has the text “I’m Secretly a Unicorn” on it.

Pidge’s water breaks and she starts getting contractions in the afternoon on December 7th. The Holts had been over visiting so they agree to stay in the lobby with the kids while Keith and Pidge are in Labor and Delivery. Pidge is actually only in labor for four hours, with everything goes extremely quick and complication free. Officially at 4:44 P.M., Aria Emma Kogane gets to join the family!

They pick the name Aria because it means “Solo Melody” and she’s had a clear passion for music since she was in the womb. They pick the name Emma as her middle name because it means “Universal” and they see her as the final little planet to make the universe of their family complete.

In regards to appearance, Aria is a little bit of an oddball compared to her siblings. Unlike the older three, who all inherited Keith’s black hair, Aria ends up with the same sandy blonde as Pidge. She ends up having bright green eyes, however. Green eyes are typically caused by a mutation in the genes, and are among the rarest natural eye colors. Then again, since this is a fictional world with radical eye colors, the likelihood is probably just a bit higher, I think. Other than that, she gets a lot of Pidge’s facial features – button nose and eye shape and heart-shaped face - but Keith’s complexion.

Everyone gets to come in and meet her at once this time, due to that Paladin Privilege and the fact that the delivery was complication free. Since Amber’s big enough, she actually gets to hold Aria herself and let’s out the most excited muffled squeal in the world. Keith helps Kaden take his turn with holding her, and Oliver just kinda lightly pokes Aria’s cheek as his sign of acceptance. Everyone in the family gets a turn to hold her, and Colleen brought her a gray-purple baby blanket to be bundled up in, though Matt ends up kinda hogging her. Pidge gives him the biggest, stinkiest “And YOU Thought She Was a Bad Idea, You Fucking Twit” look that history has ever and will ever know.

Only one day is spent in the hospital before Pidge and Aria are allowed to go home. Since everything was smooth sailing this time around, the whole move goes a lot smoother than it did when Pidge had Oliver.

So what exactly do they get with their latest bundle of joy?

Aria is an anomaly in the Kogane lineage in more ways than just her physical appearance. She’s a pretty typical baby, though a bit less fussy than most. She’s a really mellow little baby, a lot like Kaden, but she loves to make cooing noises almost all the time. Like, if she needs something, she’s much more likely to make these little warbling cooing noises to alert Keith and Pidge that she wants/ needs something than to cry, which is desperately different from Oliver who seemed to scream just for the sport of it.

Despite being born in the winter, she hates snow. Like, Keith and Pidge take the kids for a little walk in late-January/ early-February, just to get out of the house for a bit and let them burn off some energy, and everything’s going fine until Keith tugs back the little canopy of Aria’s stroller so that she can see better. A snowflake ends up landing on her nose while she’s looking around and Aria. Fucking. Loses it. Pidge and Keith are scrambling to cheer her back up, to quell the tears and get her back to her usual happy baby self, but nope. She is Done. She has drawn a line in the sand and it has been crossed and no one shall have peace now.

Which leads into another aspect of Aria; she’s actually much more sensitive than her parents or siblings. Or, rather, I guess it’d be better to say that she’s a bit more open about her hurt once she’s upset and doesn’t typically use anger or outrage as a mask. She’s very easy to scare, very quick to tears, and takes a lot of time to calm back down.

This wouldn’t be a problem if not for the fact that Oliver is the Universe’s Most Ludicrous Lil’ Shit.

Because of how their birthdays fall, Oliver is about 21 months older than Aria. So when his second birthday rolls around, she’s just barely over three months. Pidge and Keith hadn’t considered that this age gap would be an issue, since it’s very similar to the one between Kaden and Oliver and those two never really kicked up a fuss. The problem they encounter is that Oliver tends to gravitate towards Pidge a bit more and doesn’t like that a majority of her attention is given to Aria instead.

For a few weeks, Oliver just makes life miserable in the house. He is constantly finding ways to antagonize Aria when she’s just plopped around somewhere doing baby things. Finally, Keith decides to put a stop to this nonsense himself and takes Oliver with him on his walks and it actually goes really well, though I’ll elaborate on that a little more in the next part.

Much like when she was in the womb, singing or humming can help calm Aria back down once she’s startled, but it still takes a decent amount of time.

So, her first genuine smile goes to Pidge but Keith gets to her first word. Her first laugh, though? The honor of this actually goes to neither of her parents this time, but to Shiro! He had agreed to come over to help Keith with trimming the tree in the backyard, because some of the branches are too big for the kids to help him remove, and he offered to hold Aria for Keith because Oliver just ran by cackling like mad, wrapped up in toilet paper covered in bright orange glitter paint, and Pidge is adamant that it’s his turn to corral the feral child.

*Shiro, cradling Aria in his good arm, being careful because she’s a little squirmy and whiny.* “Never a dull moment around here, huh? And soon enough you’re going to add to some of that chaos, huh?”

*Aria just stares up, opening her mouth to let out a little coo in answer, her squirming stopping just a little bit.*

“Oh, you’re just such a sweet little girl. I’m sure you’re going to have a lot of people interested in you someday. Going to make Daddy work to keep them away from you, huh, little girl?” *Shiro’s teasing then lightly pokes her little nose with one of the fingers from his prosthetic hand.*

*Aria reaches up, grabs onto his prosthetic and pulls it herself with a big grin.*

*Shiro laughs and lightly pinches the pudge under her chin.* “Oh, do you want to play? Is that why you were all fussy a minute ago?”

*Aria’s mouth gets really wide and the most delicate, adorable little laugh ever erupts from her. Keith freezes in the doorway to the kitchen/living room, a struggling Oliver tucked under one arm, and Pidge freezes in cutting the sandwiches she made for the kids for lunch. Shiro, unaware that this is the first time she’s laughed, remains completely oblivious and keeps quietly chatting at her.*

“Uncle Shiro, you made her laugh! She’s never done that before!” *Kaden chiming in from his spot at the kitchen table.*

*Shiro, wide-eyed as he looks from Pidge to Keith back down to the still giggling infant in his arms.* “I… I made her laugh for the first time…” *Getting a little choked up because making a baby laugh? That is something to be proud of.*

During the winter season, Aria never goes with Keith on his morning walks because, as started before, she doesn’t do snow. But once it gets warmer out and there’s no snow, she actually really likes to go along. Normally, it’s Keith with Amber, Kaden and Aria out on the walks, but sometimes all four kids go with.

Aria is the most enthusiastic of all the kids about stuffed animals, and is normally dragging at least five of them around with her wherever she goes. Her favorite, though, is a green brontosaurus that she has named Muffin. Keith got a whole set for the kids shortly after Aria was born so that they’d all have a dinosaur toy and she just kinda… Became ridiculously attached.

Aria ends up with only a couple of nicknames, unlike Amber and Kaden who both see a pretty generous amount, but more than Oliver, who ends up with, like, two. Her most common nickname that basically everyone uses is “Ari”, which is pretty obvious. Keith and Pidge also call her “Song Bird” as she gets older and her passion for music becomes more and more prominent. The Holts call her “Sweet Pea” a lot, which Krolia later ends up picking up on, and Shiro playfully calls her “Favorite Niece whose name starts with an A and ends with a Ria.”

Okay, this part is done! Next time we get to the really fun stuff; Pidge and Keith with their full family and all the insanity that comes with it!