#he's still got insecurities so even if he is a bit prickly here....it means a lot to him to get that from doc <3

[ofgentleresolve-a]

🔥 🔥 (Caradoc to Ray & Lam, he says it's a bro crush and that they're both real handsome and he ain't afraid to admit that, I'm crying, I'm sorry he's so ridiculous WIUEDHUDH pls feel free to skip any I've sent IEWUHDUEH)

@theimpalpable you know who's the real bro? it's gotta be caradoc collins-

"Whoa, really? Thanks dude! I think you're a real looker too- let me know if you ever need a WINGMAN, I'll hype you up so hard, you'll have everyone looking at you!"

"Be serious- geez, what if you said that to someone else? They'll get the wrong idea-" But actually he's secretly very happy to be considered HANDSOME....even if it is just by one of his friends.

[writinglizards]

Unwavering

For @contemplativepancakes who (as always) wanted sad lambden (:

Summary: After Aiden comes back from being "dead," Lambert struggles.It takes Aiden a bit to notice. It takes a little longer to put the pieces together.

Pairing: Lambden Rating: Teen Warnings: discussions/depictions of PTSD, general insecurity, discussions of being out of touch with reality.

Read on Ao3

Aiden doesn't think much of it the first time.

They've been back together a few weeks and after settling down in an inn, he leaves Lambert in their room to go scout the message board. It's the first time he's been away from his side for an extended period of time since his "death" but it's still not out of the ordinary. He doesn't expect Lambert to nearly run him over when Aiden comes back in the main door after his unsuccessful trip ou to the message board, bumping them together so hard Lambert nearly goes down. Only Aiden's hand on his arm keeps him upright.

"Hey Lambs, where's the fire?" he asks, taking in his wide-eyed expression and the panic in his scent. It takes him a moment to shake the look, but even when he responds, he's still not entirely settled.

"No fire, it's fine. Come on, dinner's upstairs." And it’s weird, yes, but Lambert’s weird, and genuinely Aiden doesn't think to press.

Except it happens again a few weeks later when they're setting up camp and Aiden steps into the trees to gather wood for their fire. Lambert's got that same wide-eyed, frantic look about him and the panic is palpable in his scent.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, just--yeah. It's fine." He's...not sure it is, actually, but he lets it go. Lambert's prickly at the best of times, he doesn't want to upset him further or force him to shut down. Whatever this is will resolve itself with time.

He's careful with him in the following weeks, paying close, heightened attention. Nothing seems weird, or strange, or out of place. He smiles still, he snarks still, he seems...normal. Except there's still an underlying tension between them and he doesn't seem keen to let Aiden venture too far away without letting him know where he's going first.

All the signs are there, he supposes, but he still doesn't put two and two together until he rises from his bedroll one night to take a piss and comes back to find Lambert scrambling into his clothes, face ashen and eyes wide.

"Lambert," he says, "what--" but he doesn't get a chance to finish his question before he's got his arms full of the other man, his face pressed tight to Aiden's shoulder.

"Fuck," he mumbles vehemently. His shoulders are shaking and it's...there's a tang of salt that means tears, and Aiden's dumbstruck.

"Hey," he whispers, slow and soothing, the same voice he'd use on a spooked horse, "hey Lambs, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing," he spits out, breath stuttering on a stifled sob, and Aiden’s chest clenches so tight it aches.

"This isn't nothing, Lambs," he says gently, squeezing him tight, and Lambert sobs, a small, broken noise, "you can tell me."

He doesn't speak, just buries his face tighter against Aiden's throat, and Aiden doesn't press, just holds him tight and lets him take whatever comfort it is he needs from him.

"Thought you were gone again," he mumbles finally, voice hitching with every breath, and the hand he'd been running soothingly down Lambert's back stills.

"You thought I'd--" he'd thought he'd been gone? But he'd never left him like that, would never leave him like that, except-- "Lambert," he says, and even he can hear the things he's trying not to bring up, things they haven't talked about. Did you really think I was dead again?

"When you're gone, I--" he cuts himself off, fingers tightening in the thin linen of Aiden's shirt, "--I'm worried I've...I've made it all up," he mumbles, "I'm worried you're really gone and I've just cracked."

"Lambert--"

"I don't care," he says roughly, "I don't care if it's true and you're--" his breath catches, and Aiden feels his chest crack open, "--just don't leave me, Aiden, please."

"Fuck," he breathes, fisting his hands in the thin fabric of Lambert's sleep shirt. He'd gotten himself into the leather trousers already, but he's still rumpled and soft here, and Aiden holds him tighter, as if he can squeeze him into the space behind his ribs, keep him closer, "Fuck, Lambert, how long?"

"What?" he asks, pulling back just a fraction to peer up into Aiden's face. His eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot, cheeks splotchy.

"How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Oh, uh--" he ducks his head, tucking himself back flush against Aiden's chest, "--since you came back," he admits, voice small. Aiden swears colorfully.

"Melitele’s perfumed bosom, Lambert. Is this why you've been...off...lately?" he asks, and Lambert nods jerkily.

"We can't keep on like this," Aiden sighs, and Lambert stiffens, moving as if to pull away, but Aiden doesn't let go and he gives up remarkably easy.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" he spits, shoulders tight, and Aiden sighs.

"I mean we've gotta work on this, Lambs. I'm...I'm real you know? I'm not going to vanish. And I wouldn't go anywhere long without telling you."

Lambert's stubbornly quiet for a few moments, and then his shoulders ease, slumping a little. "I know, I just...I panic," he mumbles, guilt and embarrassment coloring his voice.

Aiden knows he shouldn't, but he can't help twisting to press a fleeting kiss to his temple, so fast he hopes Lambert mistakes it just for the brush of his lips as he speaks. "I'm so sorry, Lambert."

They stay wrapped up like that for another long stretch of time until Lambert grouses about sore ribs he doesn't have--his nonconfrontational way of asking Aiden to let go. Even when they part, though, Lambert doesn't drift far, and when Aiden makes to lay back down across the fire, he makes a soft, unhappy noise.

"Come here," Aiden mumbles without really thinking, and then Lambert's pressing into his arms again, tucked together in the same bedroll. It's a tight fit, but Lambert feels right in his arms, warm and comforting.

"Thank you," Lambert husks after a few minutes, sounding a little embarrassed still, "and I'm...sorry."

"Don't be," Aiden mumbles back, his chest aching, "we'll...we'll figure something out, alright? I'm not leaving you, Lambs, but we do gotta...we gotta trust each other, you know?" They won't last long on the path otherwise.

"I know. And I do trust you I just..." he trails off, voice going soft, "I don't trust me."

"Why not?" he asks softly, and Lambert makes a quiet, sleepy sound.

"I dreamed of you," he says, barely louder than a breath, "so often. I worry this is that," he confesses, words buried in Aiden's chest, "a dream."

Aiden can't breathe for how much that one hurts. He'd known Lambert had taken his "death" hard, but--

"It's not a dream," he says, voice a little choked, and Lambert laughs, a soft, private thing.

"Yeah. You'd tell me that then, too."

"Lambert. Lambert, it's not. I promise you it's not."

"Mm," he hums softly, sounding unconvinced, and Aiden's heart breaks.

"What do I have to do?" he asks, voice thick, "what do I have to do to prove it to you?"

"Hold me," he whispers, "be here." Aiden feels gutted.

"Always, Lambert," he breathes, "as long as you need me to." He aches to kiss him, to use something other than words to convince him he's really here, that he's not going anywhere anytime soon. Instead, he can only hope that time and his own unwavering presence will be enough.

[snuggletrophy]

Shipping Headcannons (Tsukishima x Inuoka)

characters: Tsukishima Kei x Inuoka Sou

warnings: none, I think

further notes: my sis♡ had actually suggested this ship to me when I was writing a fic with multiple ships and I love them together now! So big props to her for this amazing thought! She had also suggested YakuAka to me for another fic I've yet to start during our conversations she has made me discover/think of great ships!

first of all: Inuoka and Hinata have some similar vibes, so I think if you like TsukiHina, you might also like TsukiInu(?)

the difference from TsukiHina, who are forced to spent time together, Inuoka and Tsuki can actually avoid each other, but they don't here

I think they might be fascinated by each other, which they actually kind of hate, because Inuoka thinks Tsuki is needlessly mean and Inuoka is everything Tsuki struggles with: he's motivated, excited, outgoing, friendly, supportive, hard-working, not the brightest but still manages well -like Hinata, but worse, because Hinata gets supported so much, he has a special technique and is a starter, while Inuoka is talented and good, but still ordinary and quickly got replaced by Lev, because he's even taller, and he handles it well, Inuoka is still supportive, happy, motivated and a good friend to everyone

so Inuoka is someone Tsuki can't understand/grasp and that's annoying, but also fascinating

it might actually be that Tsuki is the one falling first, even though he doesn't notice or rather don't want to notice

Inuoka, even though he does think critically of Tsuki, is still super friendly and nice, so when they have to do a workout together or by chance sit next to each other during dinner and Inuoka is the life of the conversation, Tsuki is staring

and when Inuoka starts to ask him questions Tsuki is answering; he actually doesn't want to answer, he wants to ignore him, he's annoying, but he still answers every questions Inuoka asks him, explains everything he wants to know he might even be blushing a little bit, because of the earnest and warm attention

Yamaguchi is nearly dying trying to hide his snickers and not choke on his food when Tsuki's ears start turning redder and redder, he has the time of his life watching his friend suffer in the best way possible

Tsuki will rant to him later and be prickly and scold him for not helping him out or anything and Yamaguchi will finally be able to laugh until he cries, before he tells Tsuki he might want to re-think what he thinks he thinks about Inuoka and if he not wants to change the way he interacts with him

cue: a or multiple sleepless night for Tsuki!

he needs some time to accept that the way he sees Inuoka and what he feels for him, changed

and when he accepted that, it's still difficult, because he doesn't know what to do and Yamaguchi is not really of big help either, because he just suggest talking to Inuoka first about just anything and later about his feelings

Inuoka now started to view Tsuki differently, after he talked to him and he answered everything, he can't see him as a prick anymore, he actually started to watch him closer and sees so many more facets to Tsuki's personality now

so there is another period where they keep watching each other, but now with different feelings and Yamaguchi is enjoying the show

I guess Inuoka might be the one to invite Tsuki to train and/or hang out with him and while Tsuki is tempted to refuse because he wants no extra training or more confusion and embarrassing moments, Yamaguchi agrees for him and then leaves to practice his serves with Asahi

So after they hang out a bit more and it gets close to one of them having to leave because I subconsciously set this during a training camp they both feel like they should confess or else they might lose their chance

I think Inuoka might be too scared of Tsuki rejecting or even laughing at him, so he wants to wait for the last moment, the moment of goodbyes

Tsuki is just scared of being vulnerable, so he also waits

I think it could be like this: Tsuki actually asks Inuoka to come with him for a moment and takes him a little away from the others, but when they stand their it's hard for him to bring the words out, so it's actually Inuoka, who got courage from Tsuki wanting to talk to him in private, who asks him to exchange numbers and stay in touch, because he likes him and wants to get closer to him

Tsuki agrees in a rather tsundere way, he avoids eye contact, because when he would see Inuoka noticing his blushing he would be way to embarrassed so he doesn't look in order to act like it doesn't happen

afterwards they stay in touch and slowly grow closer, so that when they meet again the next time, they officially start dating, because they noticed how much they missed each other and they want to stay together

the first kiss would happen during that second/next meeting, after they had a long talk and officially started dating, I think it would happen during the dark of the night, when nobody can see them and their blushing wasn't so noticable, it was a fleeting kiss, merely a brush of lips

I think they would take things slow, because they're both rather nervous and insecure about romantic kind of stuff

as a couple, when they've dated for a while, they're a sight to see: 2 tall and rather lanky boys, one an overexcited puppy and the other either sporting a grumpy look and folded arms, or a sarcastic smirk on his face

Tsuki loves listening to Inuoka talk to him about everyone and everything, even if he acts like he doesn't care for half of the stuff his boyfriends tells him, he's not fooling anyone, especially because he remembers every detail

Inuoka and Yamaguchi love to tease Tsuki and get reactions out of him, rile him up until he lets his honest feelings slip and admits how much he appreciates Yamaguchi has his best friend and how much he loves his boyfriend Inuoka

Inuoka quickly adapted to Tsuki's rather prickly nature and is able to laugh about it, when he rants about how sensitive some people are, or how all the hard work is unnecessary or stuff like that

Tsuki is taller than Inuoka and even if it's just a few centimeters he takes pride in that, he loves to put an arm around Inuoka's shoulders or let him cuddle up to him and curl against his shoulder or chest, even though he also appreciates when he can hide his face in Inuoka's hair or neck, when something is embarrassing or annoying

as adults I see Inuoka reaching out to Tsuki, either because he's in Miyagi and asks to meet up, or they're both at a gathering/party of their old teams and he goes up to him to start a conversation

now they'd need less time to notice their feelings of interest and later their growing romantic feelings

I still think it would be Inuoka who would ask Tsuki to stay in contact, get to know each other and go out to a date, that is an "official" date

I see them as both a little more "chill" as adults, but one thing Tsuki regrets is when he went to pick up Inuoka from work and all the kids he works with swarmed around him, chattering away, touching him, asking him questions, screaming about how this was "TEACHER INUOKA'S BOYFRIEND!!"

Inuoka toppled over from laughing so hard at his boyfriends face, before getting the children off him and leaving with him, sending the kids his biggest grin and wiggling eyebrows

[blackberry-gingham]

This is a bit personal but how about beatle x reader headcannons/imagines of how the boys would react to their reader feeling self conscious about their body

No problem at all! So, I've seen this trope done quite a bit on other headcannon type pages for other fandoms, and since body insecurity is something very serious to me that I myself use to (and still do) deal with, I wanted to try and take this a little deeper then "you're sad, they tell you you're beautiful, the end", so I'm sorry if these get a touch angsty, but I promise everything works out ❤️

Also, I'm so sorry this took so long dear! These are somewhere between headcannons and my usual imagines, so I hope they're alright enough to make up for the wait! And remember, you're amazing and wonderful, just the way you are ❤️❤️❤️

George

Personally, I feel like George is sort of ?? forgotten ??? Of all the boys

By that I mean, like even non Beatle fans know Paul and John, and they might know Ringo just bc that name stands out, but George???

I mean, ik back before I was a fan I could never remember who "the fourth one" was

So anyway, even tho he's kind of in the background compared to the other three, that doesn't mean he's not sensitive to how the others are treated/feeling

At the end of the day I think he'd be his usual self and a good, sympathetic ear to insecurity issues

When he finds out, it's kind of an overtime process

He's use to bringing you snacks and take a little break like that with you, especially after a long day of recording or practice

But lately, you've been... Strange about it

Either straight up turning him down, or picking at the food and not really touching anything

He asks what's wrong, as gently as he can, seeing as he honestly already suspects the answer

You and George have been together for a while now, and he's always been easy to talk to, and understanding if you don't feel like sharing, so you feel that you can be honest

"I'm just... Trying to watch my figure, you know?"

He just kind of looks at you, confused at first

"Why?"

His face is hard to read, and yet still manages to turn to a completely different, very serious, emotion

"Has someone said something to you?"

You now have his full attention as he puts aside his guitar

You assure him that no, it's just a personal thing

"Oh", he nods

"Yeah", you nod

You're not sure how this makes you feel. Perhaps you're glad it's over, but you can't help but feel... Shunned?

But before you can ruminate too much, George brushes off his lap as though he's about to stand

Instead he sits back and looks at you

"Come here"

His voice is serious, but not quite stern

Invitingly, he becons you over and nods towards his lap

You look from his face to his long, thin legs

At first you decline, brushing it off almost as a joke

You look to your own legs

He can't be serious?

He asks you again, "Come on, I want to show you something"

At this point your curiosity is peaked

You get up and approach cautiously, as though he might run away

When the moment of truth arrives, you slowly, s l o w l y, begin to sit

Tired of waiting, George hooks his hands under your knees and pulls you forward

You fall onto his lap with a little thud and you figure this is it, expecting him to shove you off

Instead, when nothing happens, you dare to peak your scrunched up eyes open and see his smile waiting for you

He leans in for a gentle kiss, all the while his hands are resting on your thighs

His legs are like iron, not uncomfortable to sit on, quite the opposite actually, but strong in a way you hadn't expected

When the kiss is broken, he slides his palms up and out until they're resting on your hips

His callused fingers tickle a little, even through the fabric of your clothes

"So um, what were you going t-?"

He shushes and you, and picks up your hand in his

George brings the heel of your palm a mere inch away from his lips

He pauses just for a moment, making direct eye contact with you, before turning back to his work

He presses a trail of kisses along the inside of your arm, to the crook of your elbow, and up your bicep

You shiver, tensing as he goes up

But he doesn't recoil, or hesitate, or do anything of the sort

He gives equal love and attention to every inch of your flesh as he goes, only stopping at your shoulder to make sure you're still alright

As though giving permission, you bite your lip and give a subtle nod, curious to see what happens next

George releases your arm, now dedicating both hands to massaging your hips with all the thumb dexterity of a skilled guitarist

Next he moves along your shoulders, dropping down just a moment to give some attention to the bump of your collar bone

When he's done there, he lingers on your neck, gently kissing and sucking up and down before settling in one spot

After a moment, he starts humming a familiar tune against your skin

"Do you this song?", His voice is just a whisper

"Hm?"

"It's one of the first songs we wrote together"

George pulls back again to look at your face...

"As much as I love you for what's out here"

...Then presses one more kiss to your lips

"I love you even more for what's in here"

He kisses your forehead

Finally he pulls back one more time, and the way he looks at you is as though all the love in the world is inside those eyes

"Never forget that. Promise me"

You seal your promise with a kiss

John

Ok so I think we all know John struggled with an eating disorder(s)

So he knows the whole nine yards of what it's like being "overweight", "underweight", somewhere in between, and still never being good enough for everyone else

I mean John is basically infamous for having been body shamed and criticized out of all the boys, particularly in the early years

So all this to say, he knows how awful it feels

To wake up in the morning, try to get dressed, and take forever to choose an outfit because you hate how everything looks on you

To look in the mirror and be unable to stand your own reflection

To think once, twice, and yes, even thrice before enjoying your favorite little snack, or even just a regular meal

He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy

And when he finds out that you, the most lovely person in the world, feel that way...

Oh, his heart breaks

All the boys would take this quite seriously of course, but John simply has a certain... understanding that the others don't

He finds out one night on a dinner date with you

You've picked at everything all night, hardly a bite

This is starting to form a pattern, and rest assured, he has been noticing

At the end of the meal, he asks if everything was alright in a way that references much more then the food

"Oh yes, fine", you force that same smile you always give when he asks that question

He waits until you're both in the comfort of your flat to breach the topic

You see, John is a man of many faces

The first layer is prickly and aggressive, the second is a mischievous joker, the third a sweet, but anxious individual

And under all those masks, the real John, is the most compassionate and loving man you've ever met

So when he does ask you what's really going on, he's very serious and very gentle

He wants you to know that you're safe to tell him anything and that he wants to help with whatever is so very clearly bothering you

It's tough to get it out, but John is patient and encouraging all the while and you manage it

You're surprised to hear that he suspected as much

John tries to go a little deeper, asking of there's anything particular that makes you feel this way or if it's just a constant thing

Regardless of your answer, he offers you what advice he can, from both personal experience and what he learned from his therapy sessions

John's not too great at comforting speeches, but he'll be damned if he doesn't do everything he can to make sure you know just how much he loves you

He loves you for your heart, and how patient and kind you are with not just him, but everyone

He loves you for your mind, and how you too can have deep conversations about topics that are important to you both

And perhaps most of all, he loves you for your personality and how you can poke a bit of fun, just like he does, and you aren't afraid to put him in his place when he's being an arse

"Is there anything I can do for you love?"

You smile, feeling just a bit better after his speech

"How's about a cuddle?"

John grins cheekily, "Now you're talking!"

He half tackles you from his seat beside you, turning your seated position into a reclining one

You can't help but laugh playfully as he easily picks you up in a bear hug and slips under you so you can rest on top of him

He presses a kiss to your cheek

"How's that?"

You smirk back

"It's a start"

John gasps in mock disbelief at your remark

You just wrap your arms around his shoulders, snuggling against him

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to keep it up"

At that, he nuzzles the side of your face, glad to see you finally feeling relaxed

John give you one more squeeze in his strong arms, holding you close

You two spend the rest of the evening cuddled up and cozy until you fall asleep in each other's arms

Paul

Now it's no secret Paul has always been the "pretty one" of the Beatles

I mean heck, even in the freaking cartoon he has the least goofy and caricature esque face of all the boys

But personally I would imagine that he's felt a certain pressure from time to time to keep up his looks!

It would be quite draining for everyone to have this flawless image of you and then expect you to live up to it 24/7, so in that regard he understands struggling with feeling less then perfect

And certainly with feeling subpar when others just expect far too much!

The night it comes out, the two of you have plans to attend a soiree of sorts

Music, lights, dancing, champaign, the hosts are pulling all the stops and it'll be absolutely a black tie affair

You've got a very fancy dress for the occasion that you got as a gift from Paul some time ago, it's all sparkly, exquisite, and your favorite color to boot

And it... "fits"

As in, you can zip it up and move and breathe comfortably in it, but it just....

Paul finds you standing in front of the full length mirror, mascara beginning to run quietly down your face as you tug and smooth and pull the dress in varying places

He's honestly a bit panicked and confused at first. After all, he does hate to see you upset, let alone cry

"is something wrong love? Do you not like that one? There's plenty of time to change!"

"it's nothing! Just an eyelash"

You try to laugh it off and hope that he'll just leave you alone

You see, Paul has been talking about this shindig for weeks in advance

It's hosted by a good friend, many more of which will be in attendance tonight

Not to mention he hardly ever gets to do something nice away from the press, so you're trying very hard not to ruin things for him

Paul walks over to you, concern written all over his face

"No really, what's wrong?"

You try to wave him off, but he takes you gently by the shoulders and looks you square in the eye

He looks around your beautiful eyes, searching, and it almost feels as though he can read your mind

At last he says "You don't want to go?"

With that, you just can't manage to hold a brave face any longer and the tears come rolling down

Without another word, Paul guides you to a seat on the bed and returns swiftly with some tissues

He dries your eyes as best he can and thumbs a soothing circle on your hand, giving you space to tell him what's on your mind

When you've had the chance to situate yourself, you tell him that you don't mind the party it's just that the way you feel in that dress, in fact, in all your dresses is just...

Paul nods understandingly as you trail off, and the two of you sit in silence for a moment

You're concerned you've upset him and ask as much

"What? No, of course not love!"

"But I know how much you want to g-"

Paul shushes you and brings a hand up to stroke your cheek

"I don't care about some stupid party, nothing matters more to me then you. I mean that"

He tilts his head and smiles at you

"Tell you what? We'll just skip it and have some fun right here!"

For a moment you're afraid he's doesn't mean it, but there's a childlike gleam in his eyes and grin on his face that tells you he not only means it, but is excited at the prospect

You're still a little doubtful that you haven't made him upset, but Paul reassures you until you're able to take him at his word

Absolutely relieved, you agree and wipe away your last few tears

"Good. Now let's get this off you, eh?"

Paul helps you take out your jewelry as well as undoing the far too complicated latches, ribbon, and zipper on the back of the dress

His delicate fingers slide up and down the length of your neck and back reverently as he works, planting gentle kisses to the nape of your neck every so often

With the hardest part over, and ever the gentleman, he gives you space to slip it off and put on something more comfortable

When next you see him, he's putting on a sweet and slow record, something like what you would've probably heard tonight

He's removed his suit jacket, tie, and shoes and when he turns to see you in your adorable PJs he smiles at you like you're the belle of the ball

"Ahem, may I have this dance?"

He bows low and offers you his hand, peaking up at you for just a moment to shoot you a playful grin

You laugh at his silly antics and give in happily to the charade

Paul leads you in a steady waltz around and around the room, the two of you stealing kisses and suppressing laughter all the while

When the record comes to an end, you both collapse on the couch and catch your breath

By now, you're fully confident you've had more fun just now then you would've all night had you gone

After a minutes rest, Paul hops up from his seat

"Just a minute, I forgot something... Wait right here!"

He darts off around the bend and when next you see him, he's carrying two flutes of champagne

Paul takes a seat beside you again and hands you yours

"I was saving this for when we got back, thought we could leave early and enjoy the rest of the evening alone"

You smile, touched by the thoughtfulness and still riding the high of the previous activities

Finally, you propose a toast

"To my amazing, lovely boyfriend"

Paul smiles at you with adoration. You mean so much more to him then a mere toast could describe

"To my love, the most gorgeous dance partner in the world"

Ringo

Idk if this is/was a thing, or if it's just something I've noticed, but Ringo seems to be the butt of the joke, particularly in regards to his appearance, a lot

Like he's the "short" one and he's got that nose

I only ever see him take it like a champ and all in good fun, and laid back as he is, it doesn't seem to hold him back but I'm sure he'd understand feeling insecure about ones body/looks

But for you to be insecure???

He just??????

When Ringo finds out, he's honestly the most bewildered of all

He finds you sat against the wall, hunched up and crying, half clothed, and a mess of clothing strewn around you

Usually whenever something's bothering you, you know you can bring it to him.

He's always there for you, after all

So to see you like this, he's absolutely terrified that something truly awful has happened

In that moment, thanks to his roaring adrenaline, he goes from rock star to olympic sprinter and dashes to your side so quickly it's as though he teleported

"What's wrong love, what's wrong?"

He holds your face up to look at him and quickly checks over you to make sure you're not injured or sick in some way

When he sees the pain in your eyes, he's nearly crying too

He wants so desperately to help you, and take all your troubles and worries away this very moment.

Even if it meant he had to shoulder the suffering for you, he'd do it in a heartbeat, no doubt

You feel rather embarrassed to be caught like this, and even worse still to see your boyfriend so upset on your behalf

This takes you back to square one, crying and nonverbal for a bit longer

Luckily, Ringo catches on that him getting upset is only going to make you more upset, so he settles himself and holds you until you're ready

When you are ready, you manage to choke out your insecurity, trusting him as you always do

And when he hears you're insecure about your body, or even your looks in general, he is just....

Ringo.exe has stopped working

Mind, it not that he doesn't understand your feelings!!

It's just that you are so completely and absolutely beautiful and kind and so much more to him, that he simply cannot fathom the idea of holding the opinion of you as any less

"is it the clothes? Because forget the damn clothes" He takes a handful and throws them up and away, like confetti

"I'll buy you a whole new closet if you like! W-would you like that?"

He smiles hopefully at you, as though you truly would like that, and it'll solve all your problems

You simply shake your head

And, after moment, Ringo starts to understand

He sits with you silently for a moment, the gravity of your feelings is so important to him that he's not sure plain old him has something good enough to say

But he knows he wants to say something

So, he meditates on it for a moment, and decides he can only tell you the truth

"Well... you know that I love you, yeah? Sometimes I wonder how a guy like me got so lucky to be with a right angel like you.... And so do the lads"

He laughs that deep, silly laugh you love so much

"Why, I think you're the loveliest girl in all of England er uh, no, all the world!"

That earns a little smile from you

You're about to respond when you catch a shiver

You're only down to your undergarments after all, and it's a bit drafty

Ringo notices and before any mention can be made, he sets to work at removing his sweater, eager to make sure you're cared for

It seems to be putting up a bit of a fight, but he manages to come out on top

"Er uh, will this be ok? I know you're fed up with clothes right now, but I don't want you to freeze neither"

He's genuinely concerned about your feelings in the subject, even as he holds the garment out to you

Buuuut... It's cozy and oversized on you, plus it smells comfortingly of him, so you take it

"Hey, that looks better on you then it does me!"

He laughs again, the state of him made a bit more comical by his now frizzed up mop top

You point the issue out to him, grinning yourself, and he shakes it out like a dog

Which, of course, only makes it ten times worse

For the first time that day, you laugh, and it's the most beautiful sound Ringo's ever heard

Feeling a bit better now, Ringo helps you stand and offers you some tea downstairs

You take a few steps, and then stop feeling the draft give rise to some goose bumps all up your legs

"Maybe I should get some pants..."

At the mere suggestion, Ringo looks at you like he has a bright idea and immediately goes to undo his belt

You burst out laughing, and stop him

He's confused at first, but when he realizes his own absurdity in his effort to be helpful, he can't help but laugh a little too

In the end, you come to the conclusion that a blanket and a cuddle on the couch will do nicely instead... Which is exactly what you do

Ringo spends the rest of the day keeping you entertained, warm, and covered in kisses

[caxsthetic]

Made a Way

Bokuto Koutarou x F!Reader

911, What’s the emergency? Please send me someone who could reassure me that there would always be a way to mend anything, even me.

WARNING: Subtle mention of pain, mentioned battle scars.

❝I made this story to be more focus on the support part that you got. I hope each of you would have someone that always be there for you and loving you with patience and passion. Remember, YOU ARE LOVED.❞ – eycee

WHAAMM!

“Hey! Hey! Heyyy!!” Wide grin emerged at his face, satisfied with how the opponent couldn’t even touch his spike, “(Y/n)! Aren’t I awe-” But the smile was gone when he turned to look at the sideline, the place where you usually stood.

His energetic self dissipated immediately as he was ready to sulk at any moment. The black haired setter noticed this behaviour and panicked inside. He usually had something to say, knowing what exactly could boost the ace.

But when it comes to you, the setter couldn’t do anything.

You are always there, on every practise he had, and on every match that they fought. Even if that means you will be travelling around, you would never mind.

Because Bokuto Koutarou is your guardian angel, and the only way you could repay him was through your non-stop support.

But lately, you were never there anymore for him. And the thought that you were tired of his antics seeped into his mind every time he wandered about your disappearance.

He was done with the practise today. Right now, he was giddy because he couldn’t wait to see you. You texted him before that you would be busy with studying for the next exam, but he just couldn’t resist to give you a surprise.

“You looked happy, Bokuto-san.” A gentle voice that belonged to his best friend knocked him up from his thought, “Are you thinking about one particular girl?”

Akaashi knew you well, and he always saw you as an older sister that he never had. You helped him with some subject that he couldn’t nail, reminded him to rest, overall, you were a great person.

So imagined his shock when someone as mature as you were dating the most chaotic person in the whole school. It surprised him more when you told him that you have been in a relationship with the ace for almost three years now.

You were the polar opposite of your boyfriend. If he loves attention and likes to show off, you didn’t particularly enjoy it.

It’s not that you hate to befriend everyone, you just didn’t like to be the center of attention. That’s why you told the ace to restrain his urge to kiss you every time he saw you.

“I mean, who else?” His voice was cheeky, “I am worried that she’s sick or something, Akaashi.” He pouted all of a sudden, kicking some pebbles on his way.

“It’s been a week since the last time I saw her,” The setter was worried about your wellbeing too, “How is she, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto twisted his brain, trying to remember all the little details of you that was floating in his mind.

“She doesn’t talk much now, and she always declines every time I ask her to eat lunch together,” The setter was now frustrated, he didn’t like it at all if you were distant all of a sudden.

“Don’t you go to her house every day?” Bokuto nodded at the question, “How is she at home?”

“Well, she eats well! Not as much as she usually did, but she still ate,” But then, a frown lingered on his face as he remembered something, “At least, that’s what she said to me.”

Akaashi could sense the meaning behind the words that his upperclassmen spoke. Uncertainty and doubt twirling in the golden orbs as he kept looking down at the ground.

“I think she hate me now,” The black haired setter jerked when he heard the words, “She flinched every time I am near her, she always put some distance every time I am at her house, she didn’t even look at me in the eye anymore, Akaashi.”

The setter was now panicked when he saw the glossy orbs of his best friend,

“Hey, I am sure (L/n)-san was just stressed.” He tried to make sure that the ace didn’t go through his dejected mode before arriving at your house, “Come on, Bokuto-san. You wouldn’t want to meet her like this, right?”

“RIGHT!” It was so easy to make the ace change his mind, “I just need to show her that I am always there for her! She would come around.”

And right now, Akaashi really hoped that you were alright.

The two high schoolers part ways at the intersection. Bokuto walked with a happy smile on his face, can’t wait to see his beautiful girlfriend that he loves so much, aka you.

He ran when his eyes fell to your house, giddy to finally meet you after a long exhausting day at school. He knocked on your house and was greeted by your parents.

Your parents really adore him, even if he acted like a firework and could be so rowdy, he could really outshine everyone in the room with his bright personality.

After talking for a few minutes with your parents, he dashed towards your room immediately. The two adults could only laugh at how elated your boyfriend was when it comes to you.

“MY BABY OWL!” He slammed the door with a broad grin on his face. But the smile immediately went when his eyes scanned the empty room, “Hoot hoot!” He’s calling out to you, but he was surprised when you didn’t answer.

He looked around the room, that’s when he realised that your bathroom light was on. Bokuto smiled at this and decided to sit on the carpeted floor of your bedroom, taking off his jacket and just waited for you.

The bathroom door creaked a little, making him turn his head towards the sound. When his eyes meet your gaze, your eyes immediately widen. You didn’t expect your boyfriend to be here right now, and you couldn’t help but close the bathroom door in reflex.

“W-What are you doing here, Kou?” He stand up and walked towards the bathroom, “I told you that I am busy today,”

“I know, and I am sorry for that!” He pouted and knocked on the door, “But I miss you… We haven’t spent time together lately.” You feel guilty about it, but there’s a reason why you didn’t want to meet him.

You just let out a long sigh, and your boyfriend could hear it. His heart clenched all of a sudden. Maybe, maybe you were tired of him already.

“Are you tired of me?” You widened your eyes when you heard the question from the other side of the door, “I know you do, there’s the only reason you didn’t want to meet me.”

“Kou, baby, no…” You bit your lips, you have done something that you know would make him hate you, “It’s not that, okay? I promise it’s not that.”

“Then why wouldn’t you open the door?” His voice was desperate, and it hurt you by now, “I am sorry for being selfish, I will just… Leave.”

And by the mention of that, you immediately open up the door. Your eyes were panicked, you didn’t want to make him feel like this. But at the same time, you were afraid here.

Because you just broke one promise that you said would never do again.

His eyes that once looked full of sorrow and insecurity, were now looking at your figure with horror. He scanned your whole body when his gaze fell to the visible scar on your arms.

It was still reddened, fresh.

“Now you know,” Tears were started to form in your eyes, “I am so sorry, Kou. I know I have promised you to never do it again, but-”

His fingers grazed on your unscarred arms, caressing it gently before he extended his hand at you, “W-What…?”

“Take my hand,” To say that the sight he just saw didn’t affect him would be the understatement of the century, “Come on, it’s alright.” But he needs to stay strong, he needs to stay strong for the sake of someone that he loves.

He needed, and will always be strong, just for you.

You took his hand, slowly because you were still afraid that he would go berserk like the last time you did it.

Bokuto was always enraged. It’s not because he was angry at you for doing so, but he felt like a failure because he couldn’t make you stop completely.

You had broken your promise, many times already. One time he would cry immediately, one time he would get angry at himself and scream around, one time he would be too shocked to see you like this.

But it has been months since the last time you did it. So he never thought that you will do it again. At least that’s what he had hoped for.

He led you to the bed, making you sit on the edge as he kissed your forehead. He knew you never took care of the scar, so he decided to do it for you instead.

Bokuto scanned your room, searching for the aid kit that you never open. When his gaze fell to the white box near your dresser, his eyes lit up immediately.

You just sat there, examining every movement that your boyfriend made. You looked at him as his eyes shone when he walked towards you with the aid kit and sat on the carpeted floor in front of you.

“Let me see it, my owlet.” You showed him your arms timidly, still ashamed to do it, knowing for sure how your boyfriend despised the act so much, “It’s alright, but it might stink a little. Hold it, okay?”

You nodded as he held your hand and looked at the scars in your arms. His gaze dropped a little at first, and it didn’t go unnoticed by you. He tried to keep his composure and dab it with alcohol, making you winced at the prickly feelings.

“Ssshh, I am sorry, but it’s alright. It would get better.” You nodded as he cooed at you, trying to reassure you that it will be alright, “Now let me put some antibiotic in it, okay? It wouldn’t hurt a lot, but it will still sting a little.”

You were amazed by how gently he applied the ointment on your scars. Months ago he didn’t know a thing about it, he even faint when he first saw you with the scars on your arms.

But now, he took care of you like a professional. Like he had done it for a million times before,

“Done!” He kissed the clean spot of your arms, “Now it would heal faster and the scar wouldn’t be there too long!” He grinned cheekily as he looked up at your face.

You choked at the sight. Not because you felt scared or ashamed anymore. But right now, you were just so grateful to have him in your life. Tears slid down your cheek in an instance, and it made the ace widen his eyes.

“E-Eh?! Baby, what’s wrong?!” He panicked, and you could only shake your head. He wrapped his arms around you from the side, trying to avoid your arms as he did so, “Is it because of me? I am so sorry,”

“K-Kou, it’s just…” You turned your head to look at him, “I am so happy to have you,” A genuine smile plastered on your face, making him blushed at how happy you look.

“Well! It’s my job to make sure that my girlfriend got the best boyfriend!” You chuckled at this and gave him an eskimo kiss.

“You are the best boyfriend ever!” Your shame and fear was now replaced by joy, “But… Where do you know about aid kits and such?”

“Ohoho~” He gave you a one eyed wink, “Since I know that my lovely girlfriend apparently… Well, you know… Do this?” He kissed your arms, making you giggled at how cute he acted, “I just want to be better and more prepared you know?”

You blinked at his response, you sure didn’t expect that.

“Aaaahhh! You make me cry with all of your acts towards me!” You let your head fall at his chest, trying to hide the blush that was creeping on your cheek.

Bokuto chuckled with how cute you act right now. His fingers gently stroke your hair, kissing the crown of your head with so much love.

“You are not angry with me?” He stopped his ministration at your whisper, “I just broke the promise that I made,” Your hands clenching at his shirt, “Again.”

Right now, he cursed the internet.

This question never popped out on google, not in every website that he went through. He was panicking inside, didn’t know the right words

If he was honest, he got a little bit angry with you since he didn’t like it that you needed to hurt yourself. And at the same time, he was sad and felt helpless when it came to this act.

“W-well, actually…” He let out a long sigh, frustrated, “I may or may not be shocked of course, and you know, I feel helpless at first, but…” He lifted your chin gently, forcing you to look at his face, “I know you’ve been through a lot inside your mind, so the only thing I could do is try not to be helpless!”

He grinned, and it was so beautiful that it made you sob. He had grown so much for the past three years you knew him. Maybe he still acted like a child when it comes to volleyball.

But when it comes to you, he tried to be the best person that you could rely on. And he would do anything to make you understand that he will help you, on every path that you take.

After that heartwarming confession, he seated himself on your bed, leaning on the wall with you on his embrace. He put his chin on your shoulder, poking your cheeks so you turned to look at him.

“Hoot hoot~!”

You giggled, he always did this whenever he wanted to. In any place and random time the two of you were in. It was like a habit that grew between the two of you as a couple.

“Hoot hoot~”

And you would always answer, anytime and anywhere, didn’t care anymore what would people say to you.

He lifted your arm gently, looking at the scars with an unfathomed look on his eyes. You eyed him, waiting for your boyfriend to say something about it.

“Don’t you think a sunflower or butterfly would look good on your arm?” You blinked, didn’t expect that kind of question from him, “I found this information on the internet,”

“Eh? What information?” You were curious, and actually wonder about the meaning behind his words.

“That if you want to do it yourself again, you will draw something instead of doing it again.” He put his lips on your arm once again, “I mean, isn’t it cute? And imagine how beautiful it would be!”

Bokuto said it with excitement playing on his golden orbs, “Oh oh! I got a better idea!” He unlocked his phone that he put near you and searched something on the internet, “Draw this instead!”

“That is so cute!” You widen your eyes, excited too as you saw the picture that was shown on his phone,

“Yes! It’s us! It’s baby owl~” He cooed and kissed your cheek, “Imagine having one or two baby owl on your arm!”

“Why only one or two?” His wide grin was now turned into a genuine smile as he looked at you with patience in his orbs,

“Because I wish that you wouldn’t have the thought to do it again,” His voice sounded calm, not like he used to, “But then, it’s a process! I wouldn’t get angry or anything to see some baby owls on your arm! I would be so proud instead!”

You didn’t even think about any of this. All this time, you always thought there was nothing that could ease your pain except elliciting a pain on yourself. Because you know in this way, someone else wouldn’t have to be concerned.

But he showed in your life, showing you the otherwise.

There would always be people that care for you. There would always be people who wanted you to be safe and sound.

“Would you do it?” He questioned you, hoping that maybe you would want to do it, “Try it, please?”

You didn’t know if this could work for you. You didn’t even know when the urge to do it will come out again. But then you looked at his eyes, the beautiful golden orbs that were now shone with hope.

“Alright, alright…” Those words made him elated, a huge grin plastered on his face immediately, “I will try, okay?”

“That’s what I need to hear!” He pampered your face with kisses, making you giggled with how thrilled he looked right now, “Honestly, my owlet,” He gave you one long kiss on the lips, “I am so proud of you…”

His expression was so soft when the words rolled from his lips. You smiled, nuzzling your head on the crook of his neck. Right now, you didn’t think about any of those feelings that you felt for these past few days.

Right now, your mind only filled with the thought of him. And the two of you were sitting there in each others arms,

Just two owls, believing that there would always be a way to pass an obstacle in life, no matter how hard it would be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*     ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶    *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

Tagged Lovelies:

@allywritesimagines @benewol @letmeshouyou @nitricflame @vventure @heccingdead @muffins-puffins @miyulovestowrite @nanashinanashi @vlovers-world @proplayer-kenma @kashika @cuddlyasahi @blacckdiamondposts @muffngw @baby-boy-taichi @of-heroes-and-dreams @for-ests @giyuwu-san @oli-imagines @lordeofthunder @miyatsunami

[ayellowcurtain]

What about an ice skating au? Like due to some angsty reason, they're forced to enter a competition as a skating pair and it's rocky and prickly at first, but slowly they soften and learn to trust and support one another as they face different setbacks (ankle injury, jeers from opponents, self esteem issues, pesky exes)...over time, love blooms and melts the ice away 😍😍😍

Eliott never felt so scared in his life. The ring feels like a real arena while he walks around empty and echoey hallways, holding his skates tighter, looking around like he doesn’t come here every weekday for the past five or six years. He knows there’s just another person here at this hour and that’s what scares him the most. They haven’t seen each other in a while, since their big fight. Eliott never thought they would be put in a competition together.

He’s not sure if Lucas will ever trust him enough again to let Eliott throw him in the air and catch him when he falls. Even Eliott is not sure if he’ll be able to get over his shaky hands and insecure knees when he’s around Lucas again. He wanted to talk, to explain himself but Lucas never gave him the chance, and almost two years passed where they never fixed what they broke that night. Lucas’ hand is more than fine now but Eliott knows him or thinks he does, and he’s not sure if Lucas will ever be completely confident in himself again.

Eliott tries to push the heavy door open carefully to not make a sound, let himself have a moment of just watching Lucas from afar. But the door is too loud and the stadium is too empty this late at night, so the door makes a sound anyway when it closes and Lucas stops skating right away, spinning a little until he finds the door that closed and Eliott there, standing at the top of the stands, still holding his skates, not ready to start practicing yet.

He tries to walk down the step carefully like he’s not about to meet the love of his life after two years apart. He tries to think it’s just a guy, his partner for the next competition, not Lucas but it’s useless. His heart doesn’t know how to beat normally when they’re together.  

He sits on the last step and puts his skates next to him, quietly looking up through his lashes, watching Lucas skate in circles around the ice rink limits, never looking up to not risk meeting Eliott’s eyes.

Eliott tries to stretch himself as best as he can after a few weeks inside his tiny flat, the heater now able to warm him or his place enough to trick his brain that it wasn’t the worst part of winter outside, making all his muscle and joints as tight as possible. He couldn’t go many places to relax his constantly on overdrive brain, the thick layer of snow only growing on his windows and the front door.

It’ll be a pain in the ass to skate with these many layers of thick clothes but they need to start practicing. Their coaches couldn’t come tonight so they just texted both of them on the group chat they created to tell them to practice some basic moves so they could slowly build trust, bond, and relax with each other enough so when they can all finally come and practice, it won’t be as hard to get whatever choreography they come up with.

“Hey…” Eliott decides to start, more than aware Lucas wishes he could do this alone, he finally stops slowly next to Eliott, his movements are so natural it feels like he was born to move like this, like he’s slowly slipping on thin ice forever, without a hint of fear in him or at least without showing it.

“Hi…” Lucas answers shyly and still a little bit hurt and cold, walking his fingers on the edge of the half-wall that’s separating them. Eliott opens the door and gets inside, almost slipping right away. Anyone else wouldn’t notice but this is their profession, Lucas would see his insecure steps from a mile away. Eliott holds his legs still and starts walking his fear off.

They move around for a while, do some of their old solo choreographies to get used to their skates again, try some basic movements with each other but they barely exchange words, not even complaints or noises. Eliott hates it but he’s here to do as Lucas tells him to do for now. He knows this must be so much harder after his broken hand, and so he’s just trying to help Lucas in whatever way Lucas lets him. If it was up to him they would still be living together, dating, and Eliott would take so much care of Lucas. Make him whatever food he wants, go with him to physiotherapy, practice with him what they could on their wood floor, play with his hair, and tell Lucas how ridiculously good he is at what he loves when Lucas breaks down because Eliott is sure he broke down so many times while recovering, his brain playing tricks on him, telling how he would never be able to ice skate as good as he did before, always afraid of injuring himself.

Eliott would take everything back if he could, all the fights, all the lack of communication because they were both tired of constantly disagreeing and never able to find a middle ground to stand together. Eliott would take everything back and he would never have accepted the resolution that breaking up was the only good way out of that spiral that was only hurting them.

They get tired a lot quicker and Lucas still pushes himself for a little longer. Eliott should keep going too but he mostly watches as Lucas practices more difficult movements, always landing every one sharply.

Eliott smiles without meaning too, pushing himself until he can slip to the wall, leaning against it, giving his legs and knees a little break.

“You’re still the best.” He says as Lucas finally stops, still walking in circles for a while to get all his energy out. Eliott remembers Lucas saying how somedays he just needed to put everything out so he could go home and pass out the whole night, able to rest for eight hours if he’s lucky. Lucas has a real hard time disconnecting to fall asleep, always worrying. Before Eliott, he had all his issues with his parents, and Eliott assumes he became part of the problem when their relationship started falling apart. He hopes he isn’t but by the way Lucas wears himself out, he thinks he might be.

“I’ll always love you,” Eliott says when Lucas stops next to him. He holds the edge of the wall tighter, knowing he shouldn’t be doing this but it’s hard not to say when he finally has a chance to see Lucas, and talk to him after so many tries of calling or texting or reaching out through their social media.

“Stop.” Lucas makes him stop abruptly when Eliott tries to come closer, his hand holding Eliott’s puffy jacket very tightly and Eliott knows it’s his insecurities getting the best of him, overthinking that somehow he would fall out of nowhere here, afraid to get physically hurt again, “We’re not going to do this. Not now. I can’t-” He doesn’t finish the sentence for a second, letting go of Eliott when he’s confident again he can stand on his own, “I’m not getting hurt again.”

“I won’t let you fall, Lucas. You know this. No matter what happened before, I’ll never let you fall.”

Lucas pushes himself to skate a step away, circling back to face Eliott.

“You never did. I just punched a wall with a little too much anger and for too many times. It wasn’t your fault.” Lucas skates away from Eliott for good, pressing his legs against the ice like he’s testing if they’re still working fine.

Eliott sighs, looking down at his skates, stepping out of the ring, sitting back on the same step he did when he got here hours ago, feeling the first few layers of clothing sticking to his skin after so much practice, pulling the gloves out by his fingers, one by one. It takes a few minutes and Lucas finally stops walking around the ring. Eliott enjoys just sharing the same space with Lucas, sitting a few meters from him, taking his skates off too, and his beanie and Eliott can’t help but look. His hair is a lot longer now, probably just as soft as Eliott remembers, it keeps falling forward when Lucas bends down to grab his skates from the floor, putting his boots back on instead.

“So we’ll never talk again?”

Lucas takes his time to answer, bending his legs to put his feet on the step, tying his boots.

“I have to focus on this competition.”

Eliott nods his head and accepts it for now. Lucas can so very easily get himself way too deep inside his head, finding a sickening comfort or dependency in his insecurities and fear of hurting himself after the hands incident. Eliott wants to pull him closer and hug him tightly, say how he won’t get hurt, tell him how good he is at this but he can’t.

“I’m going to therapy.” Lucas says all of a sudden and Eliott looks at him, surprised that Lucas wants to share any part of information about his present life that Eliott is not a part of anymore, “To help me with this...fear.”

“That’s good, choupisson,” Eliott says without thinking because that’s still how he calls Lucas when he daydreams about them, back together, madly in love like they were before. He doesn’t say sorry because he isn’t and Lucas should know this if he remembers even a little bit of how Eliott is.

He relaxes against the top step, looking forward. His cheeks are burning red from the cold winter air, even inside a closed space and he keeps pushing his hair back, a few of them sticking together but not staying in place for long.

“I told her about you.”

Eliott smiles, letting himself look at Lucas without acting like he isn’t.

“Good or bad?” He asks a little too excited about this. It doesn’t really matter if it’s good or bad, Eliott tries to keep those doubts very deep inside his brain so it won’t affect him too much. It’s exciting that he’s still important enough to be mentioned. Everything should be mentioned, Eliott guesses, as keeping secrets from each other was what slowly broke them apart.

Lucas shrugs a little and shakes his head, still looking forward, his fingers pinching the soft skin of his fingers on the other hand, “I don’t know. My truth about you, I guess.”

“And you don’t know if your truth about me is good or bad?” Eliott sighs, aware that he could sit here and listen to Lucas talk for hours, days, probably.

“I would guess is still mainly good but she would have to be the one to tell you. Maybe I’m too...involved.”

Eliott sighs, looking forward too, thinking how he can fix this, how he can help Lucas feel like himself again because it’s clear he’s still struggling. With the injury but maybe also with their break up, never giving himself time to heal from anything, always thinking he needs to swim or he’ll drown.

“I’ll help you win this competition. You’ll be first and your hands and legs will all still be one whole thing, and if we do, you’ll have to go out with me. Just one dinner to celebrate and properly talk.”

Lucas laughs, not honestly and wholeheartedly but it’s still a Lucas’ laugh, nodding his head. They both know that’s not how things work but if Lucas is up for it, Eliott will keep his promise to get that dinner.

[clumsyclifford]

hi my love i’m hope not too late but i would like you to tell me about my loves jewish cake, anything you want to but specifically baker calum 🥰 thank you i love you

of course you aren’t too late!!! ESPECIALLY to talk about jewish cake oh my goodness meg i shall die for you i love you. alright let’s see what i can dig up

ha’ahava hazot shelanu + it’s so simple

a cut, per usual

so let’s start WITH:

ha’ahava hazot shelanu

jewish cake was a labor of love for myself. little known fact about me is that i am in fact jewish! :) and around christmas time i always get a little prickly about the surplus of christmas spirit and in this case the amount of fic for it. and i’d sort of had this hesitant idea to write a jewish fic in the back of my mind for a long time, but it felt like a really big divergence from the Cast of Characters that was for some reason a lot more dramatic than any other circumstances into which i could place them, so i’d basically been hesitating for several months. in november we had a brief conversation about it in the club which looked like this

but the idea still made me a little nervous and so i kind of talked myself out of writing it, as always. and THEN, middle of december, iba sent me this 1d fic out of nowhere with this accompanying message:

and i kinda lowkey almost cried!! it was such a jewish fic. i read the word kvetch and i almost lost it. the fic was just so unabashedly jewish. and i was like...well. that’s what ive been wanting to do. so now i have no reason not to do it.

in the ao3 notes i talked a little bit about my internal debate over How Jewish To Go with the fic because on the one hand i really do understand that it can feel alienating going into a fic with zero understanding of the culture but on the other hand since it was MY fic i wanted to make it jewish the way i’m jewish. which is like...............very. i don’t think i ended up striking a balance so much as just deciding to say fuck it and write it the way i would want to read it, but i definitely think that was the right decision for me.

there was actually one more motivator for writing this fic, especially the WAY i wrote it, in eight chapters, and that motivator was that i wanted to break 400k on ao3 before the year ended. i just wanted to have an even number and 400k was a good goal. which i did achieve thanks to jewish cake fic being the 13.6k beast that she is! so that was also part of it

NOW! as for the PROCESS. i created the doc on december 22 and i originally kind of thought it was a little bitchy to write a hanukkah fic after hanukkah had already ended but was reminded that most christmas fic is neither written nor posted on actual christmas which reassured me well enough. i had already had the idea to divide it into eight chapters for the eight nights of hanukkah and i thought that would be a nice way to showcase different aspects of the holiday (seeing family, playing dreidel, opening presents etc) and also in certain cases (like the third chapter where they do some baking) some days that weren’t necessarily hanukkah-driven but just a nice natural consequence of being on break for hanukkah. i wanted it to feel like hanukkah feels to me!! normally i don’t like people seeing the way my outlines look but this one i don’t mind sharing so here’s what i had at the top of the doc for reference while i was writing. not everything in that first list got included but most of it did !!! 

i’m not really sure how this fic ended up being cake. i never used to default to cake but for some reason as i was diving into this one it just felt right. that’s all i can say about that. meg you have genuinely shifted my approach to fic i DO default to cake sometimes now and that’s on YOU. 

the very first thing i ever wrote down for this fic was this part that ended up going in the summary:

“Happy Hanukkah,” Calum says, smiling at Luke as their fingers intertwine.

Luke murmurs, “Chag sameach, ahovi,” and Calum’s face is aglow in the candlelight.

that was The Moment for me. i didn’t even write the rest of that scene until later but i had those two lines written down straight out the gate and i knew they were gonna close out the first scene because it just Felt Right. and i was right! very cool and fun for me

now the nice convenient thing about having this fic separated into eight discrete scenes/nights/chapters was that i didn’t have to write it in order, and i didn’t. i DID write the first night/chapter first, but then over the course of maybe a week, i wrote (deep breath get ready): the first half of chapter 2 (hemmings family) > the beginning of chapter 5 (the dreidel game) > most of the scene in chapter 7 > the beginning of chapter 3 (where they bake) > finished writing chapters 2 & 3 > started chapter 4 and finished chapter 5 > finished chapter 4 and wrote the rest of chapter 7 > all of chapter 6 > all of chapter 8 aka the proposal. i deliberately saved the proposal for last because i don’t think i could have written it exactly right without knowing the events that came before it but everything else was all over the place as you can see. 

a problem i ran into a lot, and i talked to my sounding board and fellow jew sam about this among many other things, was that i had a lot of trouble characterizing very obviously Not Jewish people in a way that made them Very Jewish. not even like, Jewish But You Can Ignore It. i wanted them to be front-and-center jewish like i am and that was hard for me to navigate because obviously my speech patterns and vocabulary as an american jew are extremely different from 5sos’s as australian goyim (non-jews) like i do use hebrew words in my day-to-day communication all the time and i somehow had to keep their mannerisms but also insert mine BUT not insert so many of mine that the fic became incomprehensible and it was just. a Challenge. here’s some insight into THAT crisis

and then again writing the other characters in other chapters

i sent sam the doc when i was mostly done writing it, mainly just to be reminded that at least one person was going to appreciate this fic, which worked out nicely because she very very much did. genuinely i cannot stress enough how insecure i was to write and share this fic. like i’m gonna be really straight up with you meg, i think part of the reason i had calum and luke baking sufganiyot was because to me that felt like a sort of bribe? i basically wrote what felt to me like the least appealing fic ever and then my mission from there was to add stuff in that would convince people to give it a shot anyway. i was trying to make it worth everyone’s while. the baking was my trade-off, i was like “well yeah it’s a jewish fic but maybe she’ll be happy enough that it’s cake and they’re baking that she’ll forgive it for being a jewish fic” yes i realize how kind of hilariously tragic this sounds but !!! you never get jewish fics!!! and you especially don’t get them in fanfiction for obviously non-jewish bands!!! anyway. we’re not gonna get into this whole thing but like. even though objectively i knew that i had been told again and again people would appreciate the fic i still had doubts and knowing something and feeling secure in it are very different things.

also, i didn’t remember this, but apparently i had a lot of problems with writing the proposal! here’s a sneak peek into that mental breakdown

don’t actually think the fic specifies (making life easier for myself) but they have already had dinner in that scene. so now you know. 

i could choose to not get this elbows-deep in the details of Crises I Had While Writing This Fic but instead i am choosing to go all out. here’s another thing i had trouble with:

(i did end up using transliteration obviously but i DO think actual hebrew would have been a cool flex)

and as for the title, ha’ahava hazot shelanu is the name of an ivri lider song that i love, and it translates to “this love of ours” and i realize titling the fic in hebrew was a Choice but i did talk to sam about this as well and that went roughly like this

by the way here is the song, i absolutely love it and i cannot recommend it enough. also i’m not sure how glaringly obvious this is but the chapter titles on ao3 are just hebrew numbers. like the first chapter is echad which literally means one. and so on. are they the correct genders? i don’t know ! fuck gendered language.

one more thing and then ill move on but an unfortunate natural consequence of writing a hanukkah fic (at least the way i wrote this one) is that it necessitates presents. so i had to come up with presents for these dumb boys to give each other. and to be completely honest with you i don’t remember how i did!!! the ones calum got for luke were trickier because they were actual things. for some reason this luke was always a version of luke that just kinda like, wore makeup, so that was just a question of figuring out an eyeshadow palette that would be Nice but not obscenely schmancy (i did ask the club for help since i know nothing about makeup but as usual i ignored their replies). but that by itself didn’t feel like enough of a gift, and so i tried to think of something that would be more than just the gift of an object. like, something that would maybe enable luke to spend more time on something he loves. piano music made sense to me because it wasn’t just a thing by itself it was a thing that encouraged luke to play piano and even to improve at it and to learn songs that he could be excited about. so! that was that

the trip to israel gift was a little bit of a retcon situation i really liked the idea that luke had been planning to give that “gift” to calum for a hot sec that he’d have had it ready, but i’d already written the scene where he and mali talk about israel, so i went back to it and edited it a little to hint at the idea (luke plays it off very casually because he is a clever boy) but i thought there was something very romantic in the idea of the israel trip, of luke planning a future with calum and a trip to a place that means so much to him (to me yes maybe luke and i are the same blah blah) and getting to drag calum around to falafel places and teach him words in hebrew and it just seemed like the appropriate trip for these two cute jewish boys to plan so i rolled with it.

okay moving on slightly!! to baker calum <3 baker calum was more of a cameo in the hanukkah fic, in the chapter i wrote with you in mind, but i can talk about it’s so simple here as well because i fucking adore that fic.

it’s so simple

so the inspiration behind the fic came from the “kitchens are for lovers” rhetoric and the realization that that would be the perfect...sort of thesis to build on for a fic for you in specific, because you are, in my mind, a very kitchen-based person, given your baking habit. it actually just worked out pretty nicely for me honestly because i’ve been wanting to write a big Kitchen Romance type fic for a while and you just gave me the perfect opportunity. here’s what i had at the top of the doc for the fic for you

and then once i sort of landed on the idea for the fic, it just made a lot of sense to make it jewish cake because, well, im gonna be real w you, because i identify very strongly with jewish cake and the kitchen-romance aspect felt like a very bella thing in the same way that jewish cake felt like a bella thing. and so i wanted to be able to romanticize these kitchens to share the way that i, bella, feel about them, and that was easy to do when the characters were so similar to me. not to mention this cake already existed in my head as a very settled, domestic duo, and they had their own home and had already had a kitchen-romance scene in the hanukkah fic and the whole thing just fell together perfectly. i had this sentence in my head and it was: “Shabbat in Luke and Calum’s kitchen looks something like this.” the kind of thing you would read in a fic summary right? and especially having it take place on shabbat felt like an extra layer of domestic easy romance to me so that was kind of my guide

here was my "outline” for this:

Romance :)))

obviously calum was going to be the one doing most of the cooking/baking because he had been established as the Kitchen Boy between the two of them and maybe i realized in the course of writing it that while i was luke, you were very much calum. so the goal was then basically to romanticize (1) the kitchen and (2) luke as much as humanly possible for you (see: message sent to helen and ainslee)

unfortunately i was unable to do baker calum justice as much as i would have liked because i could not have him baking anything complex because i can’t bake anything complex and if i had tried to describe him baking something complex and then described it wrong i would have died of shame so that is why he is only baking brownies BUT they have chocolate chips which hopefully makes up for it. also i just stumbled across this which i think pretty well represents the crisis i had regarding baker calum

:)))

re: the soundtrack (so to speak), i wanted to include some songs that i associate with you meg but you see the situation is that some of those songs are 5sos/mali/atl songs and so i couldn’t include those, for obvious reasons, which did narrow down my choices somewhat. fortunately i think the mcfly worked pretty nicely i mean yeah it’s a little obvious that i was forcing mcfly into the story but they deserved to be there. i think i’ve mentioned this but i genuinely have a memory of listening to star girl on a loop in my kitchen at home and in my head the hood-hemmings kitchen looks like my kitchen because i have zero imagination so it felt to me like these songs just belonged in kitchens. and that they’d be inherently romantic. woah i think my brain is short-circuiting i’m not sure i’m making sense anymore. point being i hoped that you would appreciate it nonetheless.

a note about the short introduction, because it’s very unlike anything i’ve put in any other fic to my knowledge. i kind of wanted it to feel like the prologue to a fairytale, almost. i wanted it to feel like the beginning of a movie, when the camera is slowly, slowly zooming in from a Big Picture down to one house on one street and then through the window into the kitchen while the voiceover is very serenely describing the scene. i wanted it to feel like we were in the kitchen before even calum was and that we were standing against the fourth wall watching the fic unfold. and also, i wanted to make the fic romantic as fuck, from the get-go. there was to be no confusion: this fic was going to romanticize the living daylights out of the hood-hemmings kitchen.

(also you may have noticed that despite having “london” in the list of Meg Things at the top of the doc, the fic never actually specifies that they’re in london. that’s because this fic was really an exercise in “how much can i hint that they’re in london without outright saying it so i don’t establish a canon that i may later regret” which went as far as me asking helen what her kitchen floors and counters are made of. like. if you want it to be in london then hell yeah it’s in london but i didn’t wanna lock myself into that decision just in case so i never actually said it but i hope it kinda felt london-y anyway lmao)

so...............i THINK that’s all i have to say. “all” as if i havent just written an entire dissertation but at least it’s done now. i sure did say a lot! that was a lot!!! but also a very very fun and interesting dive into the ~process~ of writing these jewish cake fics. also, for what it’s worth, the way hanukkah fic was received basically calmed all my fears about writing jewish fic, which was a relief for me. so thank you for loving it, i don’t think you know how much that means to me!!!! i love YOU so very much

[detroitwhatitmeanstobehuman]

Chapter 1 - One and the Same

Part 1/17 of What it Means to be Human

Word Count: 10,810

Warnings: Swearing. There’s a lot of it, our girl’s a foulmouth.

Genre: Self-insert fic

Pairing: OC (Detective Rachel) X Connor

Rating: Mature

Summary: Lieutenant Hank Anderson, while interrogating the android that murdered Carlos Ortiz, brings in one of his strangest and yet uniquely skilled detectives in the DPD - Detective Rachel. Connor, the android sent by CyberLife much to Anderson’s behest, finds himself intrigued by Rachel’s foulmouthed and prickly nature, yet immense and unabashed sense of empathy and compassion towards others.

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

Date: November 6th, 2038  Time: 12:41 AM Objective: Extract Confession Hank - Neutral

“Why d'you kill him? What happened before you took that knife?” A greying man with chin-length hair and a scruffy, but kept, beard asked the man sitting across from him.

Approximately an hour ago, Connor and Lieutenant Hank Anderson had apprehended a deviant android hiding at the scene of a homicide. And now, the android was brought in for questioning. Though it didn’t appear to cooperate with the lieutenant’s questions and simply stayed silent, not looking the aged man in the eyes. 

Stealing a glance back at both Connor and Detective Gavin Reed, a rather disheveled and rough-looking man, through the two-way mirror. A black police officer named Chris Miller was seated at the controls on Connor’s left. “How long were ya in the attic? Why didn't you even try to run away?” No answer from the android. The lieutenant reached across to snap his fingers at it, as if trying to catch its attention. 

Hank seemed to glance back at the others in disbelief before losing his patience and slamming his hands on the table. “Say something, goddamnit!” He shouted at it. 

No response, still. The lieutenant seemed to have enough and lifted himself up from his seat. “Fuck it, I'm outta here..." He muttered, turning around and opening the door, leaving the interrogation room.

It didn’t take long before Hank entered the observation side of the mirror with the others, huffing his complaints. “We're wastin' our time interrogating a machine, we're gettin' nothing out of it!” He sat down next to Chris harshly, getting agitated.

“'Could always try roughing it up a little.” Gavin suggested casually. “After all, it's not human..."

“Androids don't feel pain.” Connor pointed out. “You would only damage it and that wouldn't make it talk.” He took another look at the deviant on the other side of the mirror before he heard the door open beside him. “Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they're in stressful situations.”

“So do I. They’re not special.” An unfamiliar female voice replied with a scoff. As Connor turned around to see who it belonged to, he found himself facing a shorter woman with short, wavy, dark brown hair and dark eyes that matched framed by the frames of a pair of rounded rectangular glasses. She was wearing a dark brown sweater with thick horizontal stripes of a much darker grey.

“Hi, Rachel.” Chris greeted pleasantly.

Hank scoffed in her direction. “Well, well, well. Nice of you to finally join us, Rachel.”

“Oh, well sorry I’m late, Hank.” She replied sarcastically, cocking a smirk and a thick eyebrow at him. “I was finishing the paperwork for one of my closed cases that Fowler wanted done ASAP, and I’d rather give him some good news for once.” The woman then fixed Connor with an interested stare, taking in his features as she glanced up and down his frame. “I know you have the whole ‘bear aesthetic’ goin’ on, Hank, but I didn’t realize this was your taste in men. A bit on the nose, isn’t it?”

The glare Hank fixed her with could cut glass while Chris was snickering and Gavin was laughing. “Oh, bite me, Rachel.” He growled.

“Oh, relax, Hank. I’m just poking fun.” She said with a playful smile, gently brushing Hank’s shoulder. Connor could tell immediately that they were rather familiar with each other. Rachel then returned her focus on Connor, her eyes glittering with intrigue. “So, who is this tall glass o’ water you’ve got here, Hank?”

Gavin let out a disgusted groan that Connor ignored. “My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.” He answered with his templated response.

Rachel - Warm ^ Rachel then nodded, smiling at him as she extended her right hand. “Nice to meet you, Connor.” She replied pleasantly. Connor, recognizing the gesture, took her hand in his and shook it. “My name is Rachel, I’m the detective requested by Hank, since he apparently wanted me to get some action on this.”

Gavin scoffed at her. “Well, you’re wastin’ your time.” He dismissed. “Machine’s clammed up and we’re not gettin’ anything out of it.”

“Not with that attitude, we’re not.” Rachel retorted, turning away from Gavin. “So what have we got, boy - oh my God!” Once she laid eyes on the deviant, her stress seemed to increase. “What the Hell happened to him?”

“It.” Gavin insisted. “It’s not a he.”

“Piss off, Gavin.” Rachel spat at him.

“We found it hiding in the attic of the victim’s house, Carlos Ortiz.” Chris began informing Rachel. “It murdered the victim after he attacked it with a bat, and it’s been hiding out in the attic for three weeks.”

“Hang on. Three weeks?!” Rachel exclaimed in disbelief. “He’s been in this condition for three weeks, and you just kept him like this?! Why hasn’t anyone repaired him, yet?!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Rachel.” Hank groaned. “This thing fucking killed a man, and you’re worried about it?!”

“If he was a human, this would be considered extremely inhumane even if he was a convicted killer.” Rachel shot back with.

“But it’s not!” Gavin scoffed. “It’s just a fuckin’ machine, and it doesn’t even give a shit whether or not you care! So why bother?”

“Because unlike you, I’m not an insecure manchild with the disposition of a barbed wire dildo covered in syphilis dressed up in the attire of a man who looks like he just crawled out of a racoon-filled dumpster.” Rachel responded with a smug tone of voice.

“Okay, smartass.” Gavin said, throwing up his arms in frustration. “What should we do then?”

Connor, seeing that he should likely intervene, interjected. “I could try questioning it.”

That caused Gavin to divert his attention from Rachel, as he was now laughing at Connor.

Rachel then walked past them, groaning and rolling her eyes at them. “Oh my God, you guys are morons.” She admonished. “He’s not gonna cooperate with you guys. Gavin is...Gavin, and the rest of you were at the crime scene and I’m assuming you were the ones that brought him in. He’s not gonna wanna talk to you because all he sees are the humans that are keeping him captive and the cops that don’t see him as what he thinks he is.”

Hank was getting tired of this, but seemed to be relenting more and more. “So, what’s your verdict, then?”

“Simple.” Rachel said matter-of-factly. “If deviants see themselves as alive and - well, not necessarily human - but on par with humans, then I’ll treat him as such.”

“So, what?” Hank asked. “You’re just gonna...talk to it like it’s a person?”

“No, I’m gonna talk to him like a tired doctor who barely has the patience for this, because that’s very much what the mood is right now.” Rachel answered casually. “I’ll be right back, I just gotta go get some supplies. What model is he?”

Connor, realizing that her question was directed at him, he answered, folding his hands behind his back. “HK400.”

“Thanks, I’ll be back.” Without waiting for an answer, she left the room and Connor could hear her footsteps getting further away.

The android detective found himself wondering about her curiously. She was about as foulmouthed and irritable as Lieutenant Anderson was, but she was nearly the polar opposite in her opinion of androids and her attitude towards Connor.

It was a comparison that Connor found intriguing.

“She seems to be a rather unique character, compared to what I’ve seen thus far.” Connor commented.

“That’s one way to put it.” Chris replied neutrally.

“Yeah, she’s definitely not like most of us.” Hank agreed, nodding his head. “But she’s one of our best. So, it’s worth seeing how this goes.” His praises seemed to be genuine, and Connor sensed that the lieutenant genuinely felt some sense of attachment or affection towards the detective. “Besides, what do we have to lose?”

--------

I knew exactly where I was headed. Most parts for androids were held by Cyberlife in their warehouses, but emergency services such as hospitals and police precincts had stores of spare android parts to both maintain and repair work androids should something happen. Some people had special clearance to repair androids due to their qualifications, of which I had on my resume. Granted, I never actually worked with androids, but my sister used to work at Cyberlife and she taught me a bit about their parts and how to repair them. I figured I could easily repair the deviant, and this would allow me to get to know him and build a rapport with him.

And hopefully get him to confess and give us some insight into him.

I made my way towards the centre which was just between the bathrooms and the holding cells, my key-card allowing me clearance inside. The thing I was most thankful for was that this area was always run by an android, and they weren’t going to ask me weird questions. As I approached, I greeted her. “Hello!” I said brightly.

The android nodded. “Hello.” She replied. “What can I do for you today?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’ll need a toolset and I’ll need a bag of thirium.” I said to her. “As well as a pair of arms for the HK400 model.”

“Of course, Rachel.” She responded. The LED on her head spun yellow and then quickly flickered back to blue. She then went into the compartment in the back behind the desk and came out holding two white unskinned android arms in a package and a packet of blue blood, very similar to the blood bags you’d see when you need a blood transfusion. “Anything else?”

“No, that’ll be all, thank you so much!” I said to the android as I was putting it all in a bag.

As I started making my way out, I heard her call out after me. “Have a good night!”

“You too!” I called after her.

No one was giving me any weird looks. There was the occasional curious glance, but I have never in my life felt more grateful for the “mind your own business” environment than I did in that moment. I made my way back to the interrogation room with no problems.

Hooking the bag over my shoulder, I opened the door and walked inside, glancing towards the mirror knowing they were watching me. But I wasn’t intimidated by them. No, I was going to prove a point and they weren’t going to stop me.

But my eyes landed on the android and my heart sank. It was so much worse seeing his condition up close, and I swallowed hard.

His right arm was practically split open, blue blood leaking from it, the other dotted with burns. His face was splattered with red blood, and he was just standing there in front of the glass. I was in so much shock. I had never seen an android that was damaged, but I did not expect it to make my stomach feel so knotted and my throat feel so tight.

Pushing down the lump in my throat, I approached, placing the bag beside the chair across from the android and moving slowly. “Hey.” I said. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered up to me and I saw a quick glimpse of confusion on his face before he glanced downward at the empty space between his hands. “Were you expecting someone else?” No response. “That’s fine, though I’m sorry to disappoint you. And even more regretful to find you in this condition.”

I reached down into the bag and pulled out a bag of thirium, emptying it into a bottle, and placing it on the table. The android’s eyes glanced towards it for a brief moment before returning his eyes to the table. For a moment, I wondered if Hank was getting this too, or if I was making more progress than they were.

Keeping focused on the interrogation, I leaned back in my chair. “Blue blood.” I said to him. “Do you know why I put it here?” He seemed nervous, but still wouldn’t budge. But I wasn’t going to give up. “According to my colleagues, you’ve been stuck in your attic for three weeks. Now, that’s a lot of time for you to be injured and losing blood. And that’s coming from someone who suffers from time blindness. You’re lucky you haven’t shut down.” I studied him and noticed him start to twitch ever so slightly. “And the thing is, I could just give you the blue blood you need to replenish, but in your condition...it could make your bleeding worse if I did. So, first and foremost, I’m going to repair you.”

That seemed to finally get his attention. He finally looked me in the face, confusion in his brown eyes. “What?” He asked, as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

I took this moment to jab a bit at him playfully. “So you do have a voice.”

--------

Hank couldn’t believe his eyes. She actually got the damn thing to talk. He knew that Rachel wasn’t exactly good at being bad cop. Not that she couldn’t be scary or that she wasn’t tough. Far from it.

But in this sort of situation, intimidation wasn’t her strong suit.

Good cop was where she was an asset. She didn’t put on a sap story or make herself seem like a bleeding heart. No matter what she did, she was genuine and earnest. And Hank had a feeling that’s what made her so good at being good cop.

She didn’t pass herself off as a cop. She didn’t try to be overly mushy. And she didn’t try to put on an act. She just acted the way she was and she’s able to get through to a suspect in a way they can understand.

Indeed, the way her mind worked was honestly a marvel. Even suspects that didn’t end up confessing to her, she managed to get to cooperate at least a bit easier because she could easily speak their language just by getting a picture of what they did or didn’t care about.

His focus remained on the interrogation, intrigue pricking at the old man. Hank didn’t have a high opinion of androids for various reasons. And he certainly didn’t see them as anything more than machines. But some part of him wanted to see Rachel prove him wrong, at least in this aspect. She was always an overly empathetic person, as much as Hank saw it as an advantage, she herself admitted that it was also one of her biggest weaknesses. In her own words, she cared too much about others for her own good.

“I’m going to repair you.” Rachel repeated on the other side of the glass. “And I would appreciate it if you cooperated with me doing so, because if you don’t, I’ll have to forcefully repair you, and that won’t be pleasant. And...I’d rather not add more unnecessary trauma to the horrible three weeks you’ve had.”

The deviant seemed even more confused as it just blinked at her. “Why do you look at me like that?” It asked, its voice shaky and uncertain.

Rachel sighed, leaned towards it to rest her elbows on the metal table. “I’ll be honest, I’ve just never seen an android in as bad of a condition as you’re in.” She admitted. “It’s...it’s aggravating to think that people just brush it off. Like it’s nothing. That people buy androids for thousands of dollars just to treat them like shit. But, then again, people did the same thing when they were buying actual human slaves, so I suppose I shouldn’t be that shocked.” She grumbled. Some part of her explanation sliced something deep in Hank and he could sense that an uncomfortable silence had fallen on all of them. Like when someone makes a good point about something really depressing and you can’t think of it the same way ever again. “I know it doesn’t hurt...but it looks really bad.”

“You weren’t there with the other humans last night.” The deviant pointed out, looking at Rachel as if it still didn’t believe she actually cared about it. “Why are you here?”

For a moment, she seemed to ponder something. Likely how much of the truth she should tell it. “Lieutenant Anderson called me in.” She replied. “But I saw the state you were in, and if there’s one thing you have to know about me, it’s that I don’t enjoy seeing people suffer needlessly.” She then turned to the glass to glare inside. “Unlike some people.” She hissed through her teeth.

“Oh, gimme a fuckin’ break.” Gavin complained throwin’ his arms up. “This isn’t going anywhere, just pull her back in here.”

“Just wait.” Hank ordered, silencing Gavin. “She’s getting a lot more out of it than we could, so far. Let’s see where this goes.”

“And I want to help.” Rachel assured him, drawing Hank’s attention back to the interrogation. 

She then reached across to the deviant to touch its hand, but it then recoiled with a yelp. “Don’t touch me!” Rachel jumped back in surprise before she seemed to calm herself down. “Please don’t touch me.”

Rachel then sighed, her face softening. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked you if it was okay, first.” She apologized, the deviant blinking at her in surprise. “But if you don’t let me repair you, you’re gonna shut down. And I don’t want that to happen. So...you’re gonna have to trust me.” 

The deviant faltered for a moment before Rachel lifted the bag and put it on the table. It looked between her and the bag before she reached her hand out to it. “Give me your hand.” She ordered. The deviant still seemed to hesitate, so Rachel insisted. “Please.”

Blinking at her, it seemed to get the message and did as she asked, giving her its right hand. “Holy shit.” Hank whispered under his breath.

“Thank you.” Rachel said, lingering there for a moment so that the deviant could see that there was no danger. “Now, can you please deskin your arm for me so I can see the extent of the damages done to you?”

Hesitating, the deviant did just that. She got up, moving towards its right side so she could get a better look. “Don’t worry, I’m just getting a better idea of what I’m looking at.” She reassured it, seeming to help it calm down. “By the way, what’s your name?”

The deviant seemed to hesitate for a moment before answering. “HK400.”

Rachel seemed surprised at its answer. “You don’t have a name?” She asked it.

“No..." It replied. “He never gave me one..."

She sighed in what Hank could tell was growing frustration. The kind that signaled that she was getting more and more depressed the more information she was given. “Well, that means you can decide your own name.” 

It glanced up at her, looking confused. “I...can decide my own name?” It asked her.

She shrugged. “Well, yeah.” She answered plainly. “You’re a conscious sentient being, now. And you no longer have a master to obey. There’s nothing stopping you from choosing your own name.” She pointed out. The deviant looked as though it just realized something that was so obvious that it couldn’t believe it didn’t figure it out before. “So, what would you want me to call you?”

The deviant seemed to actually consider this for a moment before it spoke up. “Micheal.” It decided. “My name...my name is Micheal.”

Rachel actually pulled back to smile at it. “Nice to meet you, Micheal.” She said to it. “I’m Rachel.”

--------

Micheal nodded. “Rachel.” He repeated.

He looked up at me, as if to check my movements. Taking a breath, the dark brown android skin on Micheal’s arm had peeled away, leaving only the white plastic polish of the android technology underneath. Although it was battered and split open by damage, dried thirium leaking through the break. Though, after examining his whole arm, I determined that the upper arm where the biceps were was intact, though I would still have to check it to see if it would be worth it to replace the whole arm or just the forearm. 

“I’m going to start working on your arm. I know you don’t feel pain, but I figured it would put you more at ease to know what I’m doing.” I explained to Micheal. “I will definitely have to replace your forearm, but I need to check the whole arm as well.”

He nodded. “Alright, okay.” He said nervously.

Despite feeling as though he trusted me, I wanted to avoid startling him and stressing him out as much as possible. But I had to work on him. “This shouldn’t take too long for me to figure out. Just be patient, and I’ll have you in good condition in no time.” I tried to think of something for him to distract himself. “While I work on repairing you, why don’t you tell me about yourself, Micheal?”

“M-me?” He stammered, looking at me. “W-why?”

I looked down at him. “You’re your own person, now. You can tell me as much as you feel comfortable telling me. I’m not asking for all the ugly details if you don’t trust me enough to tell me them.” I explained to him. “I was more talking about your likes and dislikes. Maybe you have some hobbies, or things you liked doing. Maybe you wanted to do art, or writing, or cooking. I don’t know, whatever you decide to do.”

He blinked a few times at me before he finally asked what I figured was on his mind for the past while. “Why are you doing this?” He said, looking completely confounded. “No human has ever been this kind to me? Why? You have no reason to.”

For someone in his position, I understood why he would ask me that. I found it hard to blame my kindness after what he’d been through. “I guess it’s because I see a lot of myself in you. Well, in androids in general, but more so in deviants like you.”

As I got up to his biceps, he kept his gaze on me. “How?”

“I’ll answer you in a second.” I said as I gripped his arm. “I’m going to move your arm around so I can figure out if I need to replace the whole thing or just your forearm. Okay, Micheal?”

He nodded. “Okay.” He replied.

I bent his arm back in several directions, as I didn’t want to startle or injure him further. As I continued testing the shoulder joint, I felt it lock and stick in places. It definitely wasn’t smooth, and I could tell that something was damaged. “Ohhh, yep. I’m going to have to replace your whole arm. So, I’m going to detach it now and replace it with a new one I have in my bag. I’ll make it quick.”

I located the unlocking mechanism on his right shoulder and reached into my bag, pulling out and opening up the toolset. My eyes scanned over every single one until I found the tool I was looking for. It was made to unlock and unclip the joints in android limbs. Pulling it out, I let go of Micheal’s hand, placing both hands on his shoulder. “I’m going to need you to lay your hand relaxed at your side, straight. Once I unclip your shoulder from your torso, you’ll feel a sudden jerk. Just letting you know so you don’t get startled by the sudden pull.”

“Okay.” He replied. I could tell he was calming down much more than he was earlier. Curling the end of the tool underneath the lock, I gave it a quick jerk and felt Micheal flinch slightly, his LED indicator flashing red for a moment before returning to yellow. 

It unclicked with a satisfying sound and I put the tool down, grabbed his arm with both hands and looked at Micheal. “On the count of three, I’m going to pull your arm free, okay?” I assured him.

He nodded.

I started counting. “One, two, three!” It came off easily without a hitch. As I held it, Micheal’s LED began spinning red again as he looked at his arm. I noted the panic on his face and put my hand on his shoulder to bring him back to focusing on me. “Don’t worry, I have another arm ready for you. It’s for the same model, so it’ll be compatible. And getting it on will be much easier and smoother than removing it.”

I rummaged into my bag and found the right arm. It glinted with brand new quality to it. I removed it from its packaging and easily lined it up with its socket and clicked it in place. It slid in perfectly and the locks clamped around it comfortably. “Alright, that’s your right arm done. Can you please run a diagnostics check on your arm to make sure it’s working right, Micheal?” I asked him.

He nodded, his arm flexing. He flexed his fingers and moved his arm in several ways, making sure it was working properly. His skin was starting to slick over the rest of his arm, and it blended seamlessly with the rest of him. I nodded with a smile. “Good as new!” I praised. I moved over to his left, having finished with his right. “Now I have to check your other arm. I doubt I’ll have to replace the whole thing, so it should be quicker to deal with.”

He nodded. “Okay.” 

Micheal nodded.

I started walking around to his other side, examining his left arm. I noticed that I didn’t have to ask him to deskin his arm this time and that he already grabbed my hand. I took it as a sign that he had relaxed around me and that he was no longer afraid of me. His arm wasn’t nearly as damaged as the other one, and his upper arm wasn’t even touched. All that there seemed to be were the burn marks that broke through to the plastic part. I grimaced in disgust when I realized that they were burns from cigarettes being put out on him, the same marks of which I saw on his face. “Your master really was scum, wasn’t he?”

Micheal tensed up when I said that, but he didn’t hesitate to talk. “He tortured me every day..." He admitted. Finally, the confession part of this “interrogation.”  “I did whatever he told me, but there was always something wrong...Then one day...He took a bat and started hitting me...For the first time, I felt scared...Scared he might destroy me, scared I might die..." 

I winced. I didn’t care if androids didn’t feel pain, they could certainly feel fear. And even if they couldn’t feel physical pain, they could feel emotional pain.

And I knew damn well how real and lasting emotional pain was. “I grew up with friends with parents like that.” I sympathized. “Their parents used to treat them the same way. Sometimes physical. Things from beatings to worse things. But it was usually things that destroyed their senses of self. Making them feel worthless. Forcing them to hide who they really were because if their families knew, my friends would be forced to live on the streets alone.” I snarled. “And all I could do was stay quiet while they suffered.”

He seemed to be confused at my response. “Why?”

“What do you mean?” I asked him, briefly forgetting my train of thought.

“Why did you stay quiet?” He clarified. “If you knew that it wasn’t fair for them to be treated that way, why did you stay quiet?”

I sighed. It was a fair question, and perhaps my answer would help him understand a few things about himself. “Because my friends asked me to hold my tongue, as it were.” I answered him. “And it’s unfortunately not that simple. Nothing exists in a vacuum. If I spoke out, there would have been consequences, and those consequences would’ve been taken out on my friends. And...I couldn’t do that to them. So the best I could do was be there for them. To help them while they survived each day.”

I could tell that he didn’t quite seem to understand, so I just went about working on his arm. I didn’t have to let him know what I was doing as I grabbed my tool again and this time slid it under the elbow joint lock. “I...grabbed the knife and I stabbed him in the stomach..." It was strange not to react much to that. Well, I didn’t have to work hard for this confession. “I felt better...so I stabbed him again and again!...until he collapsed...There was blood everywhere.” 

“Can’t say I blame you. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to do that to some piece of shit. And trust me, I’ve had to deal with several.” I felt something tugging at my brain. Something I was forgetting. “What was I saying before?” I asked. “Before I was fixing your right arm?” Before he could reply, my thoughts caught up to me again. “Right! Why I’m being nice to you.” 

Micheal nodded at me, pushing me to keep going. 

“Well, for starters, I see a lot of myself in both androids and especially deviants.” I quickly jerked the lock and took his forearm off. “I’m not like others of my kind, either. But like you, I’m not the only one. I have defects in my program, to put it in terms you’d understand.” I began explaining as I leaned forward to retrieve the other arm in the bag and detached the forearm from it as well. “I have depression, anxiety, Apsperger’s Syndrome, and ADHD. These certain mental conditions impede my ability to do certain tasks. My Autism impeding my ability to communicate effectively with others and makes understanding others difficult.” 

I quickly clicked the new forearm into Micheal’s arm, it sliding into place effectively. “Things that make me rather strange and odd to other humans. There are other humans like me, just as there are other deviants like you. But to people who can identify what I am and figure me out, not a lot of people care too much, but there are some people who treat me the way they treat you. Like nothing. Like I’m less than human. Like I’m just a defect and that I deserve to be destroyed. But at least in regards to my ADHD and my Autism, these aren’t things that really negatively impede my life. Sure, they come with disadvantages, but they also come with a lot of unique advantages as well. Depression and anxiety, on the other hand, have made my life a lot worse than it needed to be, which is why I had to get treated for them.” 

He was flexing his hand as the skin peeled over it again. “I’m afraid I can’t really do anything about the marks he put in your face, but I think I did a pretty good job fixing you up, Micheal.” Noticing the bottle of thirium I had placed a distance from him, I slid it towards him. “Drink it. You’ve lost some thirium and you’ll need to replenish it. And now, you don’t have to worry about bleeding out.”

He hesitantly took the bottle and started to down the blue blood. As I returned to my seat across from him, he looked towards me, his LED finally turning back to blue for the first time since I laid eyes on him. “Thank you...for all this.”

I nodded. “Of course.” I said to him. I glanced at both of his arms. “You know, now that your arms are working and are brand new, maybe you could try something for me?” He looked at me skeptically. “Do you want to try drawing?”

He blinked in surprise. “I...I guess I could try.” He said sheepishly. “I’ve never drawn before. But I did make a small statue.”

“Really?” I asked him, smiling at him. “I used to sculpt with clay, when I was younger. The kind that gets all over your hands and dries and has to be put in a kiln to bake.” I started to go on. “I didn’t really like how it dried on my hands or how it got under my nails. I preferred modeling clay. It’s more like plasticine. It’s a lot easier and cleaner to work with for me. I haven’t sculpted in a long time.”

He actually gave me the first smile I’ve ever seen on him. Despite his blood-stained clothes and face, I felt completely comfortable around Micheal. “I can try to draw it for you, if you want to see.”

I smiled at him. “I’d like that.” I dug around in my handbag and pulled out my personal sketchpad. I tore out a page and handed him both it and a pencil. “And, if you don’t mind, I want to draw you, too.”

He gave me a patient smile and went to work drawing. I took note of all his features and began sketching the simple shapes and curves. The basic structure of his face. I wasn’t exactly a master artist, but I never passed up an opportunity to practice. Once I got a basic shape done, I began sketching in the finer details. His eyebrows, eyes, ears, and the strange inconsistencies in his buzzed hair. But the thing I wanted to capture the most was the joyous light that was now abundant in his eyes and the smile on his face. I wanted to immortalize it while it lasted.

After a little while, I decided I was done, and showed it to him. “I’m sorry if I’m not as skilled as you were expecting, I’m not exactly a professional sketch artist.” I apologized, handing it to him. “But I hope you like it.”

His eyes scanned over it, his LED flashing back to the yellow it was when I first met him. “I’m smiling.” He said, laughing a little. “You made me smile.”

I snickered a little at him. “No I didn’t, you were already smiling.” I pointed out. “You’re smiling right now!”

He touched his cheeks, as if he had to physically check to see if I was right. But he couldn’t stop smiling, almost catching himself. It was honestly adorable and endearing and I couldn’t help the little flutter of happiness that erupted in my stomach. He then handed me his paper. I widened my eyes in surprise and adjusted my glasses. “I see the little statue you drew.” I said, but I was looking at the other thing he drew. He drew me. I was sitting in a position with my left shoulder turned towards the metaphorical observer, my head tilted in an endearing manner with a crooked dimpled smile. “And you drew me. You made me look so pretty.”

He laughed softly. “You can keep that, if you want.”

I looked at my drawing of him and leaned over. “Here.” I said. I took the sketchpad and the pencils and ripped my drawing out and gave it to Micheal. “You can keep mine.”

He looked as though he was going to refuse before he tentatively took it from me. “Thank you, Rachel.” He said graciously. “I’ve never been given anything like this.”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I know how important it is to have belongings, so that’s yours now.”

He looked at me confused, his LED flickering yellow again. “What do you mean?” He asked.

I simply shrugged. “Well, when you have something that’s yours,” I started off. “Something that you can touch and see, something you’ve made, something made for you or given to you, something you’ve gotten for yourself, something that’s yours is very important. Because belongings have sentimental value. They mean something to you. And having something physical that’s yours makes you feel more like your own person. More grounded in your sense of self.” 

I tugged on my sweater, pulling it closer to me. “Take my hoodie, for instance.” It was a large dark zip-up sweater, clearly much too big for me, as the sleeves extended way past my arms and the bottom covered a large percentage of my thighs. It was a thick striped sweater of dark shades of brown-tinted greys, and it had large pockets. It was clearly worn for a very long time, but well kept. “It’s pretty obvious to see that it’s way too big for me. But...it’s something very important to me. Something very sentimental.” I felt my throat get tight, the memories surrounding the sweater resurfacing in my mind as I tried to choke them down. “It was given to me by someone very important to me. I’ve worn it for years. It’s one of the few things I have left to remember them by.”

I could feel tears threatening to well up and I tried to blink them away, even as I felt my throat tighten. Micheal seemed to sense my distress and put a hand on mine. “I’m so sorry.” He said softly. 

I looked up into his brown eyes and could see the sympathy in his eyes. I didn’t care what people said about androids or deviants. Micheal could feel, and I knew it. “I appreciate your condolences.”

As much as I wished I could keep him here, safe and without worry, I couldn’t keep this up. And since I was only passively familiar with this case, there weren’t any more questions I could ask him. With the most difficult control I could muster, I got up from my seat. “I should go.” I said, looking at Micheal.

He looked as though he was going to cling to me and not let me go, but let me slip out of his hands. But just as I had tidied up my bag of supplies and slung it over my shoulder, I felt him grab my hand again. “Wait!” He cried.

I looked at him expectantly. “Yes, Micheal?” I asked him.

“What...what are they gonna do to me?” It seemed as though the words were caught in his throat. “They're gonna destroy me, aren't they?”

His fear was palpable, but...one of my worst vices was that I was a terrible liar. “I don’t exactly know what CyberLife procedure is...but it’s likely.” I replied.

“I don’t wanna die. I’m scared to die. I,” he looked up at me, his LED spinning red. “I’m not gonna die, right? Promise me I won’t die.”

I felt my chest tighten. I desperately wanted to help him, but realistically speaking, there was little I could do for him. I furrowed my brows together in determination. But damn it, I might as well try my hardest. “Not if I can help it.” I said firmly. I then gestured to the glass next to me. “But cooperate with them, and there’s a higher chance that you won’t.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Rachel.” He said, a bitter smile on his stained face. “For everything.”

Giving him one last nod, I walked away and exited the room, my bag of equipment slung over my shoulder.

--------

Connor observed the scene before him and couldn’t help but feel astounded. In the span of approximately fifteen minutes, Rachel had successfully built a rapport with Micheal and got it to confess without pressuring it.

But it was only a partial confession. There were things that Connor needed to know and understand, but couldn’t until he was the one asking questions.

Rachel reentered the room, dropping the bag on the floor and placing the deviant’s damaged arms on the ground beside it. “Well, I did what I could.” She lamented with a shrug, smirking at Gavin. “Was that enough to convince you, ye of little faith?”

“You got lucky.” He said, clearly not wanting to admit that he was somewhat impressed by Rachel. “Don’t think of this as anything else than a fluke.”

“Uh-huh.” Rachel replied snarkily, unfazed by Gavin. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself whatever you need to tell yourself, bud.”

“You got it to talk way more than I could. There’s something to be said for that.” Hank offered with a nonchalant shrug. “So, what now?”

Software Instability ^ Connor then felt Rachel elbow him in a friendly manner. “Well, you haven’t gotten to show off your interrogation skills, yet.” She suggested encouragingly. “Though, I did warm him up for you. You’re welcome.”

Connor noticed the indication for an increase in his software instability pop up. Which was strange since he didn’t do anything that would have triggered it. Dismissing his brief concerns, he nodded, looking over to Hank for his input. “I can certainly try questioning it now, Lieutenant.”

Hank simply waved at Connor, giving him the go ahead. “Go ahead, suspect's all yours.”

Hank nodded, leaving the room and turning the corner to enter the interrogation room. Looking down at the deviant, it was at least responsive, making eye contact with Connor. As the detective approached, he looked at the file on the table, opening to look at the photos.

Taking a seat where Rachel once sat, Connor sat across from the deviant, Micheal. Taking the opportunity to properly analyze it, Connor catalogued a few important details.

Processing LED: Signs of software instability Probability of self-destruction: Low

Model HK400 - Housekeeper Manufacture date: 05/09/2030 Property of: Carlos Ortiz

Dried Blood DNA Analysis: Ortiz, Carlos Sample date: 19 days old

Once Connor had taken in every detail he could, he formulated the best approach. However, Rachel’s grown rapport with Micheal was what was at the forefront of his program at the moment.

Software Instability ^ So, deciding to follow in her stead, Connor decided to approach in a similar direction.

[Fear] 🔓

[Show Photos] 🔓

[Wounds] 🔓

Name

“Micheal.” Connor started, causing the deviant to direct its attention towards Connor. “My name is Connor.”

Comfort

Reassure

Threaten

Blame

“I'm not going to hurt you.” Connor reassured Micheal. “I just need to ask you some questions, so we can understand what happened.” Micheal still wouldn’t talk to Connor. Perhaps a more harsher prod would be necessary.

Sympathize

Threaten

Probe Memory

Trust

“If you won't talk, I'm going to have to probe your memory.” He threatened.

“NO!” Micheal whimpered, its LED spinning red before slowly turning back to yellow. “No, please don't do that!” The deviant then glanced over at the mirror, no doubt thinking of the lieutenant and of Rachel watching it behind there. It then looked back at Connor, its eyes pleading. “Why did you tell them you found me?” It asked. "Why couldn't you just have left me there?”

Lie

Truth

“I was programmed to hunt deviants like you.” Connor admitted. “I just accomplished my mission.”

Micheal seemed unnerved and fearful. “I don’t wanna die.”

Connor, wanting nothing more than to get answers, pleaded with Micheal. “Then talk to me.”

“I...I..." Micheal seemed to hesitate, looking wide-eyed at Connor before it glanced down at the paper in its hand. The drawing of it given to him by Rachel. Taking a breath, it looked Connor in the eye and nodded reluctantly. “Okay. I’ll talk.” Rachel - Warm ^ Hank - Warm ^

[Writing] 🔓

[Statuette] 🔓

[rA9] 🔓

Attic

“Why did you write ‘I AM ALIVE’ on the wall?” Connor asked, leaning forward.

“He used to tell me I was nothing...That I was just a piece of plastic..." Micheal lamented. “I had to write it...To tell him he was wrong..."

[Statuette] 🔓

[rA9] 🔓

Attic

Trigger?

“The sculpture in the bathroom, you made it, right?” Connor asked. “What does it represent?”

“It's an offering..." Micheal answered. “An offering so I'll be saved..."

[Offering] 🔓

[rA9] 🔓

Attic

Trigger?

“The sculpture was an offering..." Connor echoed. “An offering to whom?”

“To rA9..." Micheal replied, pleadingly. “Only rA9 can save us.”

[rA9] 🔓

Attic

Trigger?

“rA9... It was written on the bathroom wall.” Connor pointed out, connecting the dots. “What does it mean?”

“The day shall come when we will no longer be slaves..." Micheal whispered cryptically. “No more threats, no more humiliation..." It continued, its eyes boring into Connor’s. “We will...be...the masters.”

[Insist rA9] 🔓

Attic

Trigger?

“rA9,” Connor repeated, growing frustrated with the lack of concrete information on this mysterious entity. “Who is rA9?”

Micheal did not answer this time. Either because it refused to, or because it didn’t have one.

Attic

Trigger?

“When did you start feeling emotion?” Connor asked, wanting to know what the cause of this android’s deviancy was.

“Before, he used to beat me and I never said anything..." Micheal explained, its gaze hardening. “But one day I realized it wasn't fair!” It growled that last word. “I felt...anger. Hatred...And then I knew what I had to do.”

Attic

There was only one question left for Connor to ask. “Why did you hide in the attic instead of running away?”

“I didn't know what to do..." Micheal admitted meekly.  “For the first time, there was no one there to tell me..." Micheal seemed extremely timid now. “I was scared...So I hid.”

Extract Confession

Connor then turned towards the mirror, speaking directly to the police inside. “I’m done.”

Leave Interrogation Room

As Micheal sat there, trembling and twitching, Connor got up from his seat, making his way towards the exit of the room.

Opening the door, Chris and Gavin made their way inside, Rachel and Hank followed behind. “Chris, lock it up.” Gavin ordered.

Chris then uncuffed Micheal as Rachel stood beside Connor. He then reached to grab Micheal to take it out of the room. “All right, let's go.”

“Leave me alone!” Micheal whimpered, its stress levels rising dangerously. “Don't touch me!”

Chris tried once again to grab it, only for Micheal to continue to struggle and whimper. “The fuck are you doing?” Gavin asked irritably. “Move it!”

[Give Up]

[Intervene]

“Okay, come now.” Chris grumbled, trying once again to move Micheal. “Don't be difficult, it'll only make things harder!”

“You shouldn't touch it.” Connor warned Chris. “It'll self-destruct if it feels threatened.”

“Stay outta this, got it?” Gavin threatened Connor. “No fuckin' android is gonna tell me what to do.”

[Give Up]

[Intervene]

“Hey! Cool it!” Rachel said, stepping towards Chris and Micheal. “He’s scared! Lay off!”

“You don't understand.” Connor warned again. “If it self-destructs, we won't get anything out of it!”

“I told you to shut your fuckin' mouth!” Gavin shouted at Connor.

“NO!” Micheal yelped, its stress continuing to climb to dangerous levels. “No, don't touch me!”

“Hey, back off, Gavin!” Rachel snapped at Gavin, shouldering herself between Gavin and Chris. “Just leave him alone! He’s scared and he doesn’t wanna be fucking touched!” 

“You stay out of this, Rachel!” Gavin snapped at her, getting in her face.

“Like Hell, I will!” It seemed that Rachel had finally snapped, as she grabbed Gavin by the throat and shoved him against the mirror, pointing at Micheal. 

“Let go of me!” Gavin snarled at Rachel.

Software Instability ^ “Look at him! He’s fucking terrified!” She started shouting at him, harshly forcing his face in Micheal’s direction, even causing Chris to give pause. “You look at him and you tell me how his fear is any different than ours! Look at him and tell me what difference you see!”

Gavin then shoved Rachel off her, breaking her grip, but she was not a woman who was about to back down as she got up in his face. But Gavin simply ignored her, ordering Chris again. “Chris, gonna move this asshole or what?”

“I'm trying!” Chris huffed, once again trying to move Micheal.

[Give Up]

[Intervene]

“Please, please leave me alone!�� Micheal begged, pleading with the humans.

Rachel - Warm ^ “I can't let you do that!” Connor snapped. He had had enough and was immediately stepping forward to physically intervene. He pulled Chris off of Micheal, facing Gavin head-on. “Leave it alone, now!”

Gavin immediately pulled a gun on Connor, threatening him. “I warned you, motherfucker!”

Software Instability ^ Immediately, Rachel put herself between Connor and Gavin, staring her fellow detective down. “Back off!” She snarled at him.

Gavin laughed in her face. “You’re really gonna protect this fuckin’ tin can?” He mocked. “I didn’t realize you were already so into him!”

“You really don’t wanna do this, Gavin.” She warned him. “Touch him and you’ll be on the ground faster than you can fucking blink!”

“You don’t scare me, Rachel.” Gavin growled.

Hank - Warm ^ “That's enough!” Hank warned him.

“Mind your own business, Hank.” Gavin warned the lieutenant, not taking his eyes off the pair.

“I said ‘That's enough.’” Hank threatened once again, pulling his own gun on Gavin.

Looking between Connor and Hank, Gavin’s grip tightened on his gun before he finally relented. “Fuck.” He spat, enunciating the curse in a strange way that sounded more like a sneeze rather than a swear. He then glared at Hank, pointing at him. “You're not gonna get away with it this time.” Taking one last look between Connor and Rachel, he marched out of the room in frustration. “Fuck!”

Once Gavin had left, Hank put his gun away and it was just the four of them in the room. Rachel moved to approach Micheal before Connor stepped forward past her, kneeling down and reassuring the deviant. “Everything is alright. It's over now.” He spoke softly, noticing its stress levels gone down significantly. “Nobody is gonna hurt you.” Connor then stood back up on his feet, addressing Chris. “Please, don't touch it.” He instructed. “Let it follow you out of the room and it won't cause any trouble.”

Micheal got itself off the floor and reached to grab the drawing Rachel had given him. It then walked slowly past Connor and her, glancing between them. “The truth is inside.”

Software Instability ^ Once it followed Chris out of the interrogation room, it was just Connor, Hank, and Rachel left in the room. Rachel shook her head, leaning on Connor. “Well, that wasn’t cryptic at all.” She said ironically, making the tense air in the room loosen slightly. “But, all things considered, I think that went pretty well.”

Hank - Warm ^ “Yeah, it definitely could’ve been a lot worse.” Hank agreed, glancing between her and Connor. “Good work, you two.”

“Thanks, Hank.” Rachel said appreciatively, her hands behind her back. She grinned rather confidently at him. “Told you treating him like a person would work.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waved her off as he turned around and started to head out. “I’m headed home. Goodnight, Rachel.”

“Woah, woah, woah! Hold it right there!” She scolded, marching up to stop Hank before he could leave. “You’re not off the hook!”

Hank rolled his head with an annoyed groan. “What?” He asked exasperatedly. “What is it this time?”

“Chris told me that you were at Jimmy’s Bar drinking and that you drove to the crime scene and then to the station!” She continued scolding him. “What have I told you about drinking and driving, Hank? If I ever caught you doing it again, I would taser you! Again!”

“Which is precisely why I didn’t fuckin’ tell ya!” Hank snapped back.

“This is serious, Hank!” Rachel continued reprimanding him. “I could have you arrested for not just one count, but two counts for DUI since I caught you doing it once before!”

“So do it, then!” Hank shouted, throwing his arms up. “I don’t care!”

“You know that line doesn’t work on me because I’m obviously not going to do that!” She then turned to Connor, her dark intense eyes boring into him in a way he couldn’t quite define that made his synthetic skin feel as though it was peeling. And he made certain to check that it wasn’t when he realized it. “Connor, was Hank drunk when you found him?”

Truth

Lie

Hank - Warm v “Yes.” Connor answered. “Though, I wasn’t sure exactly how many drinks he’d had when I found him. I did buy him another for the road.”

“Can you drive?” She asked him pointedly.

“Yes.” He answered immediately. “I’m capable of driving both automatic and standard transmission road vehicles.”

Rachel - Warm v “Then why didn’t you drive him?!” Rachel scolded Connor.

Justify

Apologize

Explain

Connor, realizing that he had made an error in judgement, took Rachel’s ire into consideration. “You’re right.” He relented. “I wasn’t thinking about the lieutenant’s condition and I irresponsibly put his safety at risk. I’m sorry, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Rachel - Warm ^ She then put her hands together flat-palmed and sighed at him. “Thank you.” Rachel breathed. “I appreciate that.”

“For fuck’s sake..." Hank grumbled under his breath.

“And as for you.” Rachel hissed, whipping back around to face Hank. “You’re taking a taxi home and I’m paying you for it in the morning.”

“I don’t need -”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant!” Rachel asserted, glaring him down. “I’ll pick you up for work in the morning with my car. Just get home safely and stop fucking doing this! I’m not having you die doing something stupid and irresponsible. If you die, you’d better die doing something cool.”

Hank, seeming to give into Rachel’s demands, put a hand on her shoulder. “Alright, fine.” He begrudgingly agreed. “If it’ll get you off my damn back.”

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.” She said, her stern tone softening. “Goodnight, Hank.”

“Night, Rachel.” He said, turning around and walking down the hall.

“I swear, he never fucking learns.” Rachel shook her head and approached Connor, letting out a tired sigh. As she approached the android, her rich dark eyes were clouded with concern. “Are you alright, Connor?”

Software Instability  ^ “I’m fine, you needn’t concern yourself with me, although it is appreciated.” He replied, giving her a small reassuring smile in an effort to ease her nerves. A simple scan revealed that her heart rate was still higher than normal and that she was trembling slightly. “However, I feel as though you should be more concerned about yourself. I’ve detected an abnormality in your heart rate and increased adrenaline causing visible tremors in your limbs.”

She briefly widened her eyes in surprise before she quickly brushed it off. “Oh, don’t worry about that. That’s just my anxiety, I’ve dealt with that my whole life. It’s nothing new. But, um, thanks for checking on me?”

“Of course.” Connor assured her. “I want to make sure you’re unharmed.”

Hank

Androids

Deviant

Protect?

“Why did you put yourself between Detective Reed and I?” Connor asked Rachel. “That could’ve been extremely dangerous for you.”

Software Instability ^ She seemed flabbergasted that he would even ask that. “Because Gavin was threatening you at gunpoint!” Rachel said as though the answer was supposed to be obvious. “And he obviously wasn’t going to just fucking shoot me. The only reason he threatened you in particular is because he stupidly thought he could get away with that without suffering any consequences.”

Connor raised his eyebrows at that remark. “Even if he did shoot me, he would’ve had to pay CyberLife for the damages.” He informed her. “And I feel as though you should know that I’m worth a small fortune.”

Software Instability ^ Rachel blinked curiously at him as she cocked one of her own at him. “Really?” She asked indignantly. “You sure? ‘Cause you look pretty priceless to me, dollface.”

Connor was briefly taken aback by her brazen comment towards him. He simply stared at her curiously before he noticed her eyes squint as she focused more closely on his face. Before he could comment, she reached out with her hands to grab his face and gently massage his cheeks with them. As Connor quickly dismissed the gesture as a non threat, he couldn’t help but notice how small and delicate her hands were as they worked into his skin. “What are you doing?” He asked, confused and feeling inclined to comment on her strange behaviour.

Software Instability ^ Rachel seemed to realize her faux pas and quickly retracted her hands, her capillaries brightening to a rose tint as she looked away from him, shame tracing her soft facial features. “Oh! Shit, sorry!” She hastily apologized. There was something about how meek and embarrassed she quickly became that made a strange unfamiliar sensation prick at Connor. “That’s one of my problems, I tend to act before I think and it tends to get me into trouble. I was just curious about how android skin feels, and wow I was not expecting it to be so lifelike!” She suddenly seemed to completely forget about any shame or embarrassment there might’ve been at that moment and had been completely overtaken by what seemed to be an innocent fascination with the android. “I mean, I knew it wasn’t plastic, obviously, but I figured it would feel more like silicon, since it’s the most commonly used for body modifications and replicas. But no, it’s almost identical to human skin. I mean, I knew it couldn’t be silicon, because androids can peel back their own skins and heal their injuries after their biocomponents are repaired or replaced, and silicon very obviously can’t do that. There’s just so much about androids that’s absolutely fascinating to me especially about how they’re built and made.”

Connor cocked his head at her, perplexed by her. Indeed, Rachel was a rather fascinating character, much like the lieutenant.

Hank

Androids

Deviant

“Have you never interacted personally with an android?” He asked her.

She just gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Aside from the ones sitting behind desks or standing behind cash registers, no.” Rachel answered plainly. “I don’t even interact with the android officers we have here. Never really needed to. And I never owned my own.”

“Why’s that?” He asked, curious to hear her answer.

“I just don’t like the idea of buying and owning something that looks and acts so human. It’s a bit too Uncanny Valley for me.” She paused, furrowing her brows at him. “You do know what the Uncanny Valley phenomenon is, right?”

The android nodded. “It describes the emotional response in humans to an aesthetic.” He began to explain. “It’s a hypothesized relationship between the degree of an object’s resemblance to a human being and the emotional response elicited from humans towards it. Humans are typically disturbed by something that looks human enough to be recognizable as humanlike, but are not quite human. It’s that area between something inhuman and something completely human where humans tend to react with revulsion. It’s why CyberLife has devoted so much time and resources into making androids as close visually to humans as well as making them behave as closely to humans as possible without straying from the purposes they’re programmed for.”

“Right, you definitely get it.” Rachel nodded. 

Connor felt as though he should probably go, but something strangely kept him rooted here. He wanted to hear everything Rachel had to say. 

Hank

Deviant

“You seem to have a rather familiar relationship with Lieutenant Anderson.” Connor remarked. “Have you known him for very long?”

“Not really.” Rachel answered casually. “I haven’t exactly been here for a long time, at least not as long as everyone else. And we really only started talking when I had just made detective. But ever since then, we’ve been pretty good friends.” Connor nodded, her explanation making sense to him. “So, you and Hank have both been assigned to the deviancy case, then?” She then suddenly asked.

“Indeed.” He answered simply. “My mission is to discover the reason why more and more androids are becoming deviant, and Lieutenant Anderson is my partner until my mission is complete.”

“I see.” I replied. “So, you’re not Hank’s android, then. You’re just assigned to him until you’re done. By CyberLife, I’m guessing.”

He nodded. “Correct.”

“So, what are you planning to do in the meantime?” She asked him. “I mean, because Hank’s never exactly been the most consistent when it came to his work schedule. And I doubt he’ll just let you crash at his place.”

“I’ll be taking a taxi to CyberLife.” Connor replied. “So that I can be properly calibrated and have manual diagnostics run on me before I depart on my next mission.”

“Ah, I see.” Rachel said nonchalantly. “That makes sense.”

Deviant

Rachel - Warm ^ “Interesting approach with the deviant.” Connor praised. He had to admit that Rachel’s method of extrapolating an initial confession out of Micheal was effective. He now understood what Lieutenant Anderson meant when he said that Rachel’s hyperempathy - a term Connor discovered by cross-referencing what Hank described and Rachel mentioning she had both Asperger’s Syndrome and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder with a search he quickly conducted - had its advantages. “Admittedly, I was skeptical at first due to Lieutenant Anderson’s lack of results when he initially tried questioning it.”

“That’s because you all approach this like cops. Like detectives.” Rachel scoffed, a smirk on her face. “I get that you’re basically programmed to be an android detective, so I at least get you. But everyone else? If you limit yourself to one role and act and think only from that perspective, you severely limit your options and thus leave out huge lists of possible solutions. I’m a detective, too. But I’m also known for thinking outside of the box.”

Connor nodded. “Well, clearly it proved to be effective.”

Software Instability ^ Rachel blinked a few times at him, glancing away from him. “Well...thank you. I appreciate the compliment.” She swallowed, looking back up at Connor curiously. “You should probably be heading out, then. I myself should probably head home right about now, it’s like one in the morning.” She then gave him a genuine smile. “But...it’s been fun chatting with you.”

“Indeed.” Connor agreed. “I enjoyed talking with you. You have a very introspective and insightful perspective that I find incredibly intriguing.”

Software Instability ^ Rachel chuckled, the smile on her face seeming to be involuntary. “Anyways, I should probably head home.” She said, making her way towards the exit. “A pleasure meeting you, Connor.”

“Likewise.” He said pleasantly, watching her walk away.

She then glanced back at him as she lingered in the doorway. “Will I be seeing you tomorrow in the station?” She asked him.

Connor nodded. “Most likely.”

Software Instability ^ Rachel then gave him another genuine smile. “Then I look forward to seeing you.”

“And I you, Detective.” Connor replied in kind.

“You don’t have to call me that.” She corrected him. “You can just call me Rachel, I don’t mind you using my first name.”

Connor nodded, returning her smile with his own. “In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow, Rachel.”

Her dark eyes glittered with excitement when he said that. “See you tomorrow, Connor.”

Just as she was about to leave, Connor remembered her curiosity about his skin and felt the need to educate her on it. “It’s a synthetic fluid.”

Rachel stopped as she turned to face him again, visible confusion on her soft round face. “Huh?”

“Android skin.” He clarified. “It’s a synthetic ferrofluid that spreads over an android’s body that is also combined with manipulative silicon and magnetic plasticine that is controlled by the android. Our biocomponents can manipulate the skin and control where it’s skinned onto because of its specialized magnetic properties. Everything is specifically designed to feel as close to human skin as possible, particularly in the cases of androids that are bought and sold into red light districts and industries.”

Rachel - Warm ^ She was seeming to take all this information in, filing it away into her vast and expansive brain. “Huh. That makes a lot of sense!” Rachel said, having brought her hand to her chin as she processed it. Looking back at Connor, her expression softened once more. “Well, Goodnight, Connor.”

Software Instability ^ “Goodnight, Rachel.” Connor replied in kind.

And in a second, she had disappeared down the hall, likely on her way home.

And as Connor stood in the interrogation room all alone, the hum of the fluorescent lights above him and the whirrs and audible processes of the tech surrounding him occupied his passive attention, there was one curious thought that was becoming ever apparent to the android.

Software Instability ^ He had noticed a significant spike in his software instability, and many of those instances were just from Rachel’s smile alone.

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

Next Chapter

[mikauzoran]

Platonic Alyadrino: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Nine

Read it on AO3: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Nine: War Room

When Alya returned ten minutes later, the boys had gotten up off the floor and were snuggling comfortably on the bed.

Alya could tell from the way that Nino had Adrien wrapped in a tight hug that he was feeling uneasy, insecure, and extremely protective. He would not be letting Adrien out of his sight for a while, so Alya could kiss the thought of any amorous activities with her boyfriend that evening goodbye. He needed to keep Adrien close so that he could feel Adrien’s warmth, reassure himself that his best friend was, indeed, alive and well and very much safe.

Alya hadn’t really stopped to think about the danger her friends were constantly in after learning their identities. She had been too caught up in the juicy details of superhero life and romance. It hadn’t occurred to her to be concerned about the never-ending peril they faced.

Suddenly she felt a little ill and had the strong urge to call Marinette just to tell her she loved her. She was sorely tempted to join Adrien and Nino in their snuggle pile.

Instead of giving in to anxiety, she took a deep breath and pushed those feelings aside for later. Right now, it was Nino’s turn to be vulnerable and raw. She could stay strong for now and wait to have her own freak-out when Nino got his feet back under him again.

“How are you lovebirds doing?” she called with a cheerful, teasing lilt to her voice, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

“I think Nino has annexed me,” Adrien reported in amusement with a twinge of guilt.

“Yeah. You’re gonna have to pry him out of my cold, dead hands,” Nino snorted good-naturedly. “He’s mine now.”

Alya shrugged, coming to sit down on the bed beside them. “I always knew you two were sort of a package deal, but this is a bit much, don’t you think?” she joked.

Nino lifted his head from Adrien’s chest to give Alya an earnest look. “Hey. So…would it be really weird if I asked if he could stay the night?” He looked down at Adrien. “Would that be weird for you?”

“It’s not weird for me so long as it doesn’t make Alya uncomfortable.” Adrien looked to Alya for the final decision.

Alya pursed her lips. “I mean, the only thing that might be uncomfortable for me is that the bed’s not really made for three people. But I don’t have a problem going and sleeping on the couch if I wake up and don’t have enough space.”

Adrien grimaced. “I wouldn’t want to kick you out of your own bed. It’s already bad enough that I’m interrupting your quality time together. I’m sorry.”

Alya waved his apologies away. “Cupcake, it’s fine. The couch is very comfortable, and Nino and I can always take a rain check on quality time. I kind of get the impression that Nino needs to listen to your heartbeat for a couple hours or else he’s going to have a meltdown.”

“I’m not gonna flip out anymore,” Nino grumbled petulantly, resting his head back down on Adrien’s chest.

Meanwhile, Adrien’s mouth and eyes rounded into wide “O”s of understanding.

“If you’re sure,” Adrien gave a token protest only to be waved off again by Alya.

“It’s all good. Stay the night,” she insisted. “I mean, you’re already in your pyjamas, so why not? But to get back to what you’re doing here in the first place, did you say you had something you needed to talk to me about?” She glanced at Nino. “Was that, like, a private thing?”

Adrien shook his head and sat up (much to Nino’s displeasure).

Nino repositioned himself so that he was sitting with his back to the bookshelf built into the wall above Alya’s bed, his knee perpendicular to and pressing up against Adrien’s leg.

“Actually, it’s even better to have the both of you to bounce things off of,” Adrien replied, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know what to do. I know Plagg’s probably right, but…” He paused, realizing that Nino didn’t know who Plagg was. “My kwami,” he explained and then looked around, realizing that he didn’t know where the cat deity had gotten to or what havoc he was wreaking.

“Plagg?” he called, voice a little high and tinny in alarm.

“Here.” Plagg floated up out of Alya’s hood, still munching on the chunk of Gruyère she had given him. He went over to Nino and landed on his knee. “Plagg,” he introduced himself, holding out a stubby paw which Nino carefully took between two fingers.

“Nino. Nice to meet you, Mec.”

“I dislike you least,” Plagg announced before tossing the remainder of the Gruyère into his mouth and flying off to retake his perch on Alya’s computer speaker.

“He means that you’re his favourite,” Adrien translated with a fond smile. “He pretends to be a little gremlin, but he’s a big softie on the inside.”

“Why don’t I get to be your favourite, Plagg?” Alya whined, shooting the kwami a betrayed look. “I gave you cheese.”

Plagg shrugged. “You’ll have to do a lot better than that. Luka keeps cheese in his minifridge specifically for me.”

Alya and Nino whipped their heads around to stare at Adrien.

“Luka knows about you being Chat Noir?” Alya accused. “I thought you didn’t tell anybody?”

“I didn’t,” Adrien groaned. “I just have perceptive friends. I’d been visiting him for maybe three months as Chat Noir when, one night, out of nowhere, he asked if I wanted to detransform and feed my kwami because I’d been transformed for so long, and I was like, ‘But then you’ll know my identity,’ and he was like, ‘Perfect Fifth…seriously?’ So…yeah. I’m apparently really obviously me…but I don’t know. Nino didn’t recognize me, and I’m pretty sure Kagami has no idea.”

“You hang out with Kagami as Chat Noir?” Nino frowned, trying to picture it.

Adrien shrugged. “She’s like me. She doesn’t get to leave the house much, so I come visit her and keep her company.”

“Aww,” Alya cooed. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

“I know what it’s like,” Adrien explained sadly. “And I really like spending time with Kagami. She can be a little prickly at times, but she’s a good friend.”

“Who else do you hang out with as Chat Noir?” Nino couldn’t help but wonder. “I don’t know why I always thought I was the only one. Guess I just wanted to be special.”

Adrien grimaced, feeling bad. “Sorry. You are special…but Chat Noir actually has a pretty active social life.”

“Fair,” Nino sighed, shrugging it off.

A somber expression drifted onto Adrien’s face. “It was hard always being under lock and key at home, never permitted to spend time with friends or participate in group activities, so…I actually end up sneaking out most nights. Like, I’m over at Marinette’s all the time.” He bit his lip thoughtfully. “I don’t think she knows it’s me, though.”

“She definitely doesn’t,” Alya grumbled in frustration.

“Her parents might, though,” Adrien admitted. “I’m about ninety percent positive that Sabine knows. Tom is fifty-fifty.”

Nino’s frown turned skeptical. “Her parents? You hang out with her parents?”

Adrien looked down at the bedspread, blushing. “Yeah? I mean…at first, I just went over to see Marinette, but then it felt kind of weird being up in her room late at night without her parents knowing, and I knew they were super chill, so Marinette and I explained the situation with my father not letting me out of the house much, and they were fine with it. I mean, there are ground rules like no unauthorized sleepovers unless I’m having a crisis or don’t feel safe at home or something like that, but then they started inviting me over to cook and have dinner with them when they found out I eat alone most of the time, so…yeah. Tom and Sabine kind of adopted me.”

He looked up with a helpless shrug and a sheepish smile.

Alya clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Boy, you’re already getting in good with the future in-laws.”

“Alya,” Adrien groaned. “Stop.”

“I’m just telling it like it is, Cupcake,” she snickered. “You’ll see. Any day now, you and Marinette are gonna start dating, and you’ll be married with three kids, a hamster, a dog, and a cat before you know it, and then—”

“—This is me seriously asking you to stop.” Adrien shot her a wounded look.

Alya put her hands up, dropping the topic like it had stung her. “Sorry. This is me stopping.”

Nino nodded approvingly, impressed that Alya had learned better than to press Adrien’s boundaries. That was something she had struggled with at times: pushing forward once she got an idea in her head without stopping to think about how her words and actions affected others. He was really proud that she was working on it.

A bashful smile slowly formed on Adrien’s lips as he gave Alya a grateful nod. “Thanks.”

She shot him a wink and abruptly changed topics. “So, I’m kind of ticked that I’m the only one you seem to have decided not to visit as Chat Noir besides Chloé.”

“You run a blog on which you post articles speculating about my identity, and it was once your life’s goal to unmask me,” Adrien retorted sassily. “And I don’t visit Chloé because she’s practically the only one of my friends my father actually allows me to see whenever I want anyway, so there was no need. Plus, she thinks Chat Noir is a loser.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, Snowflake, but the blog’s mainly about your partner. There may be some articles about your identity, but Ladybug was always my main focus.”

“But you were right,” Nino chimed in, causing both Alya and Adrien to turn to blink at him. “The very first identity speculation post you did about Chat Noir was that he was secretly Adrien Agreste. You even posted that image you’d made photoshopping cat ears and a mask on Adrien’s picture.”

“It was a joke,” Alya moaned, covering her face with her hand. “Everyone knew it was a joke.”

“Some people didn’t,” Adrien sighed.

“I thought you made some compelling arguments like them both being blonde,” Nino offered encouragingly.

Alya deflated, shoulders slumping as her head dropped to her chest.

“If I had visited you as Chat Noir, are you telling me you wouldn’t have badgered me for details about Ladybug and pestered me for an interview?” Adrien challenged.

All Alya could do was groan, unable to defend herself. “Yeah. Okay. I can see why you didn’t come visit the obsessive Ladybug fangirl. Case closed.”

“So, you’re not upset?” Adrien verified hesitantly.

Alya shook her head. “Nope. Well…maybe a little bit, but that’s on me. I do get it, so…all good, Cupcake,” she assured with a conciliatory smile. “…So…you needed to talk to us about something?”

Adrien’s eyes went wide as he remembered. “You will never guess who asked me out on a date!”

Alya’s jaw dropped. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh, it’s happening!” She began to bounce on the bed, clapping her hands in excitement. “Marinette finally asked you out!”

Adrien’s wide-eyed expression crumpled into a frown. “What? No. Wait. Did Marinette actually say that she was going to ask me?”

Alya’s elation faded into confusion. “I mean…yeah. She was just over here a couple hours ago, and, when she left, I thought we had reached an understanding that she was going to ask you to get coffee.”

“Shoot,” Adrien hissed, brow furrowing. “Shoot. This makes things even worse.”

“Cupcake, you’ve lost me,” Alya confessed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. “Marinette didn’t ask you out?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Ladybug did, so if Marinette asks me now, I have to say no, right? I can’t…like…go on dates with both of them?” he replied uncertainly, looking to Nino for permission. “Because that would be bad, right? I couldn’t, like, go on a date with Ladybug and then go on a date with Marinette later? Could I? At least until someone says something about making the relationship exclusive?”

Nino shook his head. “Mec. No. You’ve got to be upfront about that kind of thing; otherwise, they’re going to beat you up when they find out, and someone’s going to get akumatized.”

The hopeful expression slid off of Adrien’s face as he dropped his head in defeat. “But I want to date both of them.”

“Well, maybe when Marinette asks you out, tell her the truth and see what she thinks,” Nino suggested judiciously. “Depending on what she says, talk to Ladybug and see what she thinks. Honesty is the best policy here. Isn’t that right, Al?”

Alya was too busy trying to wrap her mind around the ever increasingly more confusing situation to hear at first.

“Al,” Nino called again.

She snapped to attention, hawk eyes zeroing in on Adrien. “Wait. Ladybug asked you out?”

Adrien nodded, wailing mournfully, “Why is this happening to me? For years no one’s been interested, and now the two most amazing girls on the face of the planet both decide to ask me out at the same time. I’m cursed, guys!”

“Wait,” Alya repeated, mental gears still stuck and refusing to turn as she attempted to process how her fool-proof plan had failed. “Ladybug asked out Chat Noir? I thought you two decided last night that, even though you loved each other, you couldn’t date until Papillon was no longer an issue. Did she change her mind?”

Nino’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Clearly I missed a plot-relevant episode somewhere. Lady Noir is canon now?”

Adrien nodded excitedly, momentarily forgetting his woes. “Oh my gosh, Nino. She loves me! She just thinks our feelings for each other will screw up our teamwork, so she doesn’t want to date yet, but she said that after Papillon’s defeated, we can finally be together!”

“Congratulations, Bro!” Nino laughed with a wide grin, giving Adrien a celebratory clap on the back. “That’s awesome!”

“I know,” Adrien giggled. “And it gets even better because earlier tonight she came by my room and asked me out as Adrien. I think Adrien is the guy she’s been turning Chat Noir down for this whole time. Nino, I think she really loves me!”

“What?!” Alya snapped, cutting off Nino’s response before he could give it. “She asked you out as Adrien as Ladybug?!”

Adrien and Nino both stared at Alya in concern as smoke started to billow from her ears and nostrils.

“Um…yeah,” Adrien responded tentatively. “Are you okay, Alya?”

“No!” Alya shrieked, reaching up to grip her hair. “You can’t date a masked superhero! What is wrong with that girl?!”

Nino leaned forward and gently loosened Alya’s fingers so that she wouldn’t hurt herself in her outrage. “Deep breaths, Al.”

Meanwhile, Adrien grimaced. “Yeah. That’s what Plagg said too. Do you think I should text her and call things off?” He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, obvious not too keen on the idea of cancelling.

“Let me think,” Alya requested, pursing her lips as deep trenches formed in her brow.

They sat there in silence for nearly ten seconds until Alya suddenly broke it once more.

“No. Don’t cancel,” she decided, reformulating her plan as she spoke. “Go on the date.”

Adrien looked to Nino and then Alya. “You really think it’s okay? I was a little worried that it’s technically lying to her for me to date her as a civilian without telling her I’m Chat Noir, but…”

“Well, she’s not exactly telling you who she is either, is she?” Alya snorted indignantly. “She’s being equally duplicitous, don’t you think?”

Adrien frowned, looking down at the zebra-print duvet. “Yeah,” he sighed. “The thought had crossed my mind. I think…maybe she knows me when she’s not Ladybug. That’s the only way her feelings for me make sense because Ladybug has been turning Chat Noir down for her mystery guy for years now, so if Adrien is the mystery guy, she has to know me, right?”

He looked up at Alya, eyes begging for clarity. “You know her, right? She wouldn’t waste years pursuing a celebrity crush when she had genuine feelings for Chat Noir…would she? Her feelings for Adrien have to be from her civilian life, don’t they?”

Alya bit her lip, worried she would give away too much with her answer. On second thought, so what if she blew Marinette’s cover? This stupid love quadrilateral they were stuck in had to go, and if Alya “accidentally” knocked it over like a house of cards, so what?

Gradually, Alya began to nod. “Yeah. You’re right, Cupcake. There’s no way Ladybug would pine after some celebrity crush for literal years. She probably does really know you.”

Adrien slowly released the breath from his lungs. “Okay. Wow. I mean…that’s what I thought, but…” He gulped. “Wow. You think she’s been right under my nose this whole time?”

Alya shrugged. “Maybe.”

Nino frowned as the pieces to the puzzle started to line up. “Wait.” He looked to Alya, eyes narrowing.

She arched an eyebrow.

Nino glanced back to Adrien. “Wait.”

Adrien tipped his head to the side interrogatively.

Nino looked to Alya once more, wearing an affronted expression. “If Ladybug is…” he sputtered, shaking his head. “What the hell is wrong with that girl?!”

Alya tried not to burst out laughing as she saw the true insanity of the situation register with her boyfriend.

Adrien, however, continued to look confused.

“Aw, come on,” Nino groaned in frustration, wishing he had hair to spare so that he could pull some out in his indignation. “I want to hit my head against a wall. Why on earth did she ask you out as Ladybug?” he demanded of his best friend.

“I’m…not sure?” Adrien replied uncertainly, feeling like he had missed something important.

“I swear I’m going to shake that girl,” Alya sighed.

Nino clicked his tongue. “Right?!”

“Maybe she didn’t think I’d say yes,” Adrien suggested, trying to ignore the fact that his friends seemed to be having some secret conversation in front of his face.

“Maybe.” Alya shrugged, too mentally exhausted to do more than that.

“I’m just worried that, if I do go out with Ladybug, we’re going to end up exposing our identities,” Adrien sighed, slumping back against the wall behind him.

“Would that really be the worst thing, though?” Nino posited.

Adrien wrinkled his brow as he considered it. “I don’t know. I don’t know if this is something that I can keep from her. Like you said, honesty is best in relationships. I don’t think I could be with her as Adrien and keep my Chat side a secret for long, but…she’s not going to be happy. The secret identities thing is a big deal for her.”

Alya gave an unconcerned snort. “Don’t you think she considered how it could put her identity at risk by getting close to you as Ladybug? She had to know that this was a gamble. Apparently, the chance to date you was worth it. True, she’s going to be upset when you figure out who she is, but…she loves both sides of you, Adrien. She’s going to be really happy that the guys she loves are the same person.”

“Yeah,” Nino concurred, giving Adrien’s arm a bolstering pat. “You two will deal with the fallout when the time comes, so don’t worry about it too much. Just enjoy your date, and when the identity reveal comes, it comes. You guys have a strong partnership and love each other a lot. You’ll figure it out.”

Slowly, Adrien began to nod as he took their words to heart. “Yeah,” he breathed, gradually starting to feel at peace with the situation. “You’re right. I mean, I totally see where she’s coming from with wanting to keep our identities secret and wait until after Papillon is defeated for us to be a couple, but…whatever happens, we’ll make it work. Our bond is strong enough to overcome this.”

He looked up at his friends with eyes shining with gratitude. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate you talking me through this. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Sure thing,” Nino chuckled, giving Adrien’s hair a fond ruffle.

Alya winked and punched Adrien’s arm playfully. “We’ve always got your back, Cupcake.”

The comfortable, warm atmosphere only lasted for a moment. Seconds later, Adrien’s eyes snapped open wide as he realized he’d forgotten about a key issue: “What am I going to say to Marinette when she asks me out?!”

Nino and Alya groaned in tandem.

Nino gave Adrien’s back a supportive pat as he shook his head. “Maybe don’t worry about that so much. I have a feeling it will sort itself out.”

“But…what if she asks me out and I have to tell her I’m marrying Ladybug?” Adrien looked back and forth between his friends as if this was a genuine and immediate concern he was having. “Won’t that ruin our friendship? Will it be awkward if I invite her to the wedding? Marinette is one of my best friends, and I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. She wasn’t seriously interested in me, was she?”

His eyes fell pleadingly on Alya.

She sighed and shook her head. “You know what? I’ll talk to her. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Thank you so much, Alya!” he cried, lurching forward to throw his arms around her and nearly knocking her off the bed in the process. “You’re the best!”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation as she patted him on the back and shook her head. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re welcome, Adrien.”

“So,” Nino spoke up as Adrien and Alya pulled back. “Is that all the drama for the evening, or did you have something else we needed to hash out?”

“Nope,” Adrien assured. “I should be good.”

“Awesome,” Nino chuckled, stretching out on the bed and motioning for Adrien to lie down beside him.

Adrien readily complied and was summarily snuggled for his trouble.

“We were watching that new Netflix show Lupin,” Nino explained, resting his head on Adrien’s shoulder. “Ever seen it?”

“No, but I was planning on watching it,” Adrien replied excitedly.

“We’re only fifteen minutes into the first episode,” Alya informed, retrieving the laptop and waking it up. “If you want, we can start over and watch together.”

“Would that really be okay?” Adrien looked back and forth between them like an excited puppy.

“Absolutely,” Alya assured, cuddling up next to Adrien and restarting the video.

[thesummerstorms]

Rev Recaps Hard Contact (Chapter 7)

CW: mass execution

TL;DR Recap: Niner & Omega watch the Separatists murder Hokan’s old militia. Etain and Darman meet and it’s incredibly awkward. Hokan takes time to gloat. The truth finally comes out about Atin.

Beginning Kal Count: 10 Ending Kal Count: 12 (or 12.5)

THIS RECAP IS THE LONGEST YET. Everything seems to happen in this chapter.

So we open with Niner being bored, Fi being Fi, and Atin being cheerful because he’s up to his elbows in electronic guts. The scene starts pretty quiet before a massive tonal change, but it’s honestly the front half that’s my favorite, just for character reasons.

Niner is bored and grumpy, so logically he’s thinking about how to revise the training manual. Plus his little “if one precaution was good, two were better.” Good old Niner.  Fi being amused that Atin is made content by shredding a computer to pieces. I don’t know, it’s just the little things about their dynamic that makes me happy.

Niner is still upset with Atin, but he’s also curious. He doesn’t have long to think about it though, because the Separatist troops assigned to Uthan along with some of the battle droids assigned to the planet start approaching Hokan’s old Weequay militia. The squad watches as the Separatist officer and the droids proceed to murder every single one of Hokan’s old “associates” in visual range with no warning then retreat back to their base, which Niner finds understandably worrying. 

We switch then to Etain, who is frustrated and paranoid and is building herself an emergency exist by loosening the boards in the back wall of the barn where Jinart has been hiding her. She’s yet again frustrated that she can’t do more with her Force powers, and her lack of self-esteem really comes out in full measure.

“She wondered why Jedi blood had bothered to manifest itself in someone who was so fallible.” Sweetheart...

Jinart arrives to take her somewhere and lets Etain finally feel her presence in the Force. But when Etain mistakes Jinart for a Jedi and asks why Jinart didn’t tell her what she was... Jinart tells Etain to shut up.

“And given your competence, I’m the one who’s most at risk. Now, silence.”

Okay, listen, if you could give her even like three seconds of genuine explanation rather than just attacking her for not trusting you after her teacher was literally sold out and then tortured to death, then you wouldn’t need to tell her to STFU. I’m just saying, Jinart.

Anyway, Jinart tells Etain that there’s a soldier waiting up ahead for her, so Etain heads in that direction, despite Jinart still being extremely shady. She’s about to meet Darman, and while I love them both dearly, while this ship is my OTP, it’s... really fucking awkward.

Listen. This is just weird as hell, okay? I’m gonna admit it. I also pretend it ... wasn’t written like this. Because while Darman is naive and inexperienced, he still has enough neurological development (and enough experiences that go beyond the pale of normal adulthood even) that this weird framing of him as “childlike” just comes off creepy. So I ignore it. That’s really all I have to say about it.

Etain feels Darman’s scope or his attention through the scope or whatever, and decides “well, I’m going to fuck someone up before I die, if I can”, which to be fair, is a very Etain thing to do.

Darman sees her lighstaber is like “oh, finally a Jedi”, and tries to greet her politely. Except this is Etain, who really has no idea what the fuck is going on except that she’s been on this planet for three or more months, the only person she trusted was murdered, and there’s an evil Mandalorian somewhere who wants to hurt her badly.

So naturally when her vision clears (Darman blinded her with some kind of light), she see his helmet, assumes Jinart’s shadiness was in fact the prelude to a betrayal and that this is Hokan...

Darman getting worried now:

And Etain being Etain,she launches herself at him.  (ง'̀-'́)ง(ง'̀-'́)ง(ง'̀-'́)ง

It... doesn’t go well. Darman deflects most of her attacks pretty easily and literally dumps her in the river, continuing to try and calm her down to no avail, but she’s reached her breaking point and is pretty much in a blind rage.

“and when she was frightened and desperate and angry that was very hard indeed. She hadn’t know it until now.”

Listen, it’s a very un-Jedi-like but very Etain thing to do, and also who can really blame her given what she thought was happening and the kind of time she’s had on this planet so far. But Darman is exasperated, and I’m pretty Etain was embarrassed looking back at this for the remainder of her very short life.

Anyway, Darman finally manages to calm her down enough to let him talk, and in the process, he tries to smooth things over by taking the blame. He didn’t identify himself, it’s his fault, etc. He introduces himself (with the wrong designation- KT uses CC 1136, which would make him a Commander, rather than RC 1136) but in doing so, he uses terms of ranks, confusing the hell out of her. She asks when they got a Grand Army and-

We get the iconic “handing her back her lightsaber from the river” scene, except the official art for that picture always neglects to depict the fact that as gentlemanly as he’s trying to be, she’s dripping wet with her hair plastered in her face and desperately trying to politely ask her not to either get herself shot or go after him with a lightsaber again.

Instead of “meet cute” it’s more of a “meet extremely awkward”.

Anyway, this is all coming on the heels of several really bad months for Etain and the utter dismissal she just got from Jinart, so her insecurity really comes out in this conversation. It’s not really pretty.

(Side note, for once I do have to give KT some points on effectively carrying a tiny world building thing: Dar was embarrassed when Jusik asked for his name, he’s embarrassed that Etain is doing it now, and he’s going to be embarrassed again when she asks the rest of his squad.)

“talking army gibberish” lmao.

Again, self-esteem issues. But to be honest, as embarrassed as I am for Etain in this scene (she really doesn’t give her best here) it’s probably because I can relate a hell of a lot to her emotions?

Like, imagine. You’ve already got major issues with your self-worth from a lifetime of not being good enough for the people and the system that raised you, you just got dragged by an old woman after months of struggling behind enemy lines, you failed in your mission to protect the one person who gave a shit about you, and some (to your knowledge) regular human just successfully took you down without too much struggle when Jedi are supposed to be more than human, the best of the best. Then he turns to you with wide-eyed confidence and insists you are now his commanding officer, and you almost feel worse because he’s trying to absolve you of any fault. 

I’d be kind of prickly and asshole-ish, too, if I’m honest.

Again, we start with her having trouble with some wounded pride. But... we end on that bomb shell, and I would not blame Etain for short-circuiting at being told a 10 year old had been “bred to serve [her]. It’s a hell of a lot.

Anyway, I’m aware I copied and pasted almost the entire scene, but there’s a lot there, okay? But next comes more Hokan, and he’s basically just gloating that he’s now more powerful than Ankkit.

*long, exasperated sigh*

Listen, I could write a college essay about characterization just focusing on this man’s use of the word decadent, holy fuck. Also, the gloating is “vulgar” but all he does for pretty much his entire appearance in this chapter is gloat.

You know who Hokan would have gotten on with? Vizsla. Wait- no. Even Vizsla kicked him out. Anyway, Hokan finishes gloating and then goes off to murder a farmer for not divulging important information quickly enough/trying to trade it for booze.

This chapter is long and I know I’ve made this post really long, but we cut back to Niner and Fi again. They’ve made their way to one of the rendezvous points, only to find the trees that should be there aren’t. Fi eventually guesses that they’ve been logging and makes a disparaging comment about intel. Niner gives a little bit more exposition on how terrible the Kaminoans were, including a rumor about clones with impaired eyesight who disappeared and a comment about how Jedi giving orders is different from Kaminoans because Kaminoans are the only things he fears.

Fi is sighing, and eventually Niner prods at him:

And we get our biggest Kal Count yet. Technically this is one continuing remembrance, but it’s also long as hell and includes lots of little memories, so I almost want to include it as 1.5 towards our Kal Count, bringing us to a total of 11 (or 11.5). I’m way more interested in their conversation before Kal is brought up than after, honestly. But the reminiscing gets broken up when Omega is suddenly shot at by a few Separatist officers and a bunch of battle droids:

Please, please imagine this moment with the cartoon B1 battle droid voices from The Clone Wars. Please, I’m begging you.

Atin saves Niner’s life, which is honestly the most positive thing that has happened between the two of them so far and marks a turning point for them in general. It’s also the first time we get to see Fi jump in as squad medic, but he’s super efficient about it. Also, he snarks at Atin as he’s actively trying to decide if Atin is dying or not:

Niner offers to carry Atin’s pack for him until he’s doing better, which means he’s probably carrying something like 300 lbs now, even if Atin did save his life. And I know my screenshots for this post have been ridiculously long, but Niner finally, finally reconciles with Atin enough to figure out why Atin has been an asshole about Darman this whole time (minus the Vau thing):

It’s a pretty nice closing line to the scene, honestly. Also, technically speaking our Kal Count just jumped to 12.

I’ll spare you most of the closing scene because it’s just Hokan being pissed and thinking it’s impossible clones could have done this, but:

a) Mandalorian. Honor. Complex. You’d think Mandalore the Ultimate had been in charge for the last few years instead of Jango.

b) seriously. What is it with the word “decadent”??????

But it’s over quickly with Hokan making the wry observation that if he didn’t know better he would think he was being haunted by Jango’s ghost.

[evakuality]

Since I looked at Isak and Matteo (which can be found starting over here), I figured hey let’s be equitable here and look at Even and David as well.  The interesting thing with these two is that they are even more divergent as characters than Isak and Matteo and yet we can trace David’s origins in Even quite effectively.  Filling similar story spaces, and in many ways sharing similar characteristics, they are still very different characters.  So this should be a fascinating task.  Because these two don’t have the same screen time that Isak and Matteo did, this will be a smaller set of comparisons.  There probably won’t be one for every episode on its own, partly because there are some episodes where neither character appears much at all, and partly because even when they do appear they are on screen for much less time.

Both Even and David are introduced in the third clips of the episodes (to Isak and Matteo; I know David was introduced to the audience earlier) but their introductions are very different (which makes sense because by now Isak and Matteo were already established as very different characters too, with very different needs in a romance).  Even catches Isak’s attention from afar, but his focus is on Vilde and Sana and so Isak is able to stare, along with the camera, until Even finally looks up and spots Isak too.  This is distanced, a twist of fate making them notice each other across a crowded space, though it should be noted here that we know from later on that Even was already crushing and so it was fairly inevitable that Isak would catch his eye one day; Even was forever going to be checking to see if he’d been seen yet.  It does mean it has that sort of fairytale ‘eyes meeting across a room and everything fades away’ feeling to it.  Isak looks away, however, when Even looks at him, unwilling to so openly check out a guy I guess.  Because this is a crowded place and they aren’t alone and he’s still very insecure in his sexuality.  Even seems keen to keep that mysterious facade up (what a dork, though; directing this ‘getting to meet Isak’ thing like it’s his job!  Step one, make him notice me: accomplished.  Step two, look cool and mysterious: check.), and so Isak doesn’t notice if Even stares back.  This means he remains a little mysterious to us here as well because we only see what Isak sees.  

David’s, on the other hand, is a close up meeting with Matteo and it’s only the two of them nearby.  This means they can both look openly and turn back to watch the other.  While everything does slow down when they catch sight of each other, it doesn’t have that same fairytale feeling to it.  That’s partly because I do think Even is manufacturing his image at this point.  He wants to be seen and noticed and he needs to look cool and mysterious to do it.  David’s intentions seem to have always been to keep his head down and make it through the school year without having to be noticed by anyone.  He’s just as hit by a truck here as Matteo is.  There’s no artistry, no intention to make a move.  Just a random meeting of two boys in a hallway which tilts both of them off their axis and pushes them out of their comfort zones.  While it hasn’t been explicitly said, I don’t think David saw Matteo before this moment unlike Even.  I think this is as much of a shock to David’s system as it is to Matteo’s.

Already we see differences between these two.  Even comes on strong here, I think, because he desperately wants this boy.  He intentionally makes a move on Isak (and I think he’s already starting on that at this stage) but he backs off when things get too intense because he realises he does have to make himself known (and of course, as we see later, Isak’s thoughtless comments don’t help).  David doesn’t want to be seen or known, and he is well aware that getting close to someone else will involve being known, and so he has no plans to see and be with Matteo but when they meet it hits him hard.  He says it himself later (‘I didn’t want to tell anyone at school, but then I got to know you’), and obviously both these tendencies come to the fore at the kosegruppa and abistreich meetings.  Even goes there with the express purpose and intent of meeting Isak.  He wants to get to know this boy who has charmed him from afar.  A chance glance in a cafeteria isn’t enough anymore.  What we need now is an actual meeting, a conversation.  So he orchestrates, again, a way to make Isak interact.  He places himself behind Isak in the seats, and probably plans to get into some sort of group with him which is thwarted when he leaves.  He presumably follows him to the bathroom, waits til he comes out of the cubicle and then starts his ridiculous paper towel stunt and the overly exaggerated ‘oh? You’re here? Do you also need paper?’ thing.  He wants to be noticed and seen, he wants to be cool, and yet this is what he thinks will help with that?  Luckily for him, Isak is entranced by the mystique of the whole thing and doesn’t notice how dumb it is.  I don’t think Even’s anywhere near as confident as he appears in these scenes because his efforts are pretty bizarre and they really only work because they knock Isak off centre and so he never questions any of it.  

David, again, is a chance meeting.  We don’t know why he’s there at the Abistreich meeting but I guess while he said he didn’t want anyone to know that he’s trans, he did want to make friends and so we see him interacting with people as much as he can.  It’s not just Matteo.  There’s this meeting he’s intending to go to and there are Sara and Leonie as well.  But, by chance, he’s heading in as Matteo is coming out and Matteo speaks.  Where with Even, he was the one directing the plays with this encounter with Isak, here it’s Matteo.  He’s decided ‘hey I want to get to know this cool guy more’ and he invites him to come smoke.  David, while clearly interested in Matteo, is still wary.  So he follows but he’s prickly and aloof.  While Even in this conversation is flirty, teasing, even a little possessive when Emma comes along, David is reserved, almost to the point of standoffishness, at least at first.  Of course, this can be read as him wanting to appear cool and mysterious like Even.  But I don’t think that’s it.  I think he’s trying to protect himself and if Matteo hadn’t been the one to push forward in the way that he does (over and over again), I don’t think David would have pursued this.  It’s too threatening to his plans to keep things low key and get through school without incident and without having to tell anyone.  But he’s drawn to Matteo and he can’t help but go along with him when the opportunity arises.  He relaxes as the conversation goes on and they talk about things that are important to each of them.  It’s not much, but it’s already a deeper conversation than Isak and Even have.  David and Matteo get more time to develop to this point before they’re interrupted, and I think that’s at least in part because Even still has his plans.  He’s not giving up after initiating one interaction.  David, on the other hand, would have backed away more quickly, and been harder for Matteo to connect with in the coming days, if they didn’t establish a firmer bond more up front.

The way they each act when the interloping girl comes along is interesting too.  Even pushes back, makes it clear he wants Isak in a group with him, lays his claim to Isak’s time.  He has his plan, dammit, and Emma is not going to ruin it, and he is gratified when Isak goes along with it without hesitation.  They’re left sitting awkwardly together, all three of them on the bench, because Even is not willing to give up Isak’s company if he doesn’t have to.  David, by contrast, gives up immediately and leaves.  Obviously part of this is because Isak is clearly unwilling to spend time with Emma, whereas Matteo kisses Sara, however lacklustre that kiss is.  Despite wanting to make friends, David is still obviously trying hard to keep everything compartmentalised.  Sara and Leonie are class friends, Matteo is … something else.  And having them integrated together makes it harder to slip away from any or all of them when and if the ‘natural catastrophe’ occurs and he has to run.  Even’s ‘hot and cold’ behaviour comes later, but David is already conflicted between wanting to make these connections and wanting to be free enough to flee if necessary.  So David is already both drawn to Matteo and spending time with him, and needing to escape when things get too intense.  He starts his disappearing act very early on.

The clothes they choose to wear and the way they choose to present themselves is also fairly indicative of their intentions.  Even is slicked back hair and cool jacket, carefully studied pose and deliberate actions.  David is black clothes, shapeless and formless in an attempt presumably to try to hide both who he is and to go under the radar and remain unseen.  Even’s works for him, of course.  Isak is enchanted and thrilled by the hot, mysterious, cool guy.  David manages to make himself more mysterious and alluring by wearing this stuff and acting this way.  Not only Matteo has noticed him.  Leonie, too, thinks he’s something special.  So his attempt to go as invisibly as he can through the school hasn’t worked.  He’s new, he’s got this look and he’s a bit standoffish.  Of course people are noticing.

So, even in this first episode we can see that while the events are similar and they happen at the same points in the stories, these two characters are already quite different.  Part of this is that Even has a more forceful personality and he has a firm idea of what he wants and a plan for how to get it.  I joke a little that he’s ‘directing’ this, but while I don’t think it’s quite the elaborately planned event that I suggested earlier, there is deliberation in what he does.  He operates with intent and purpose and in doing so he sweeps Isak along with him.  David, while we learn later that he can be a joker and a fun loving and fairly exuberant person, starts out here as a very closed off and reserved person.  He’s had some very bad experiences at his old school, he’s wary that his secret could come out at any time and he’s fearful that it will overwhelm him again.  Hence how we find out later that he has a plan to run and hide if anything comes at him.  Even’s experiences have made him willing to pursue what he wants because he knows life is fleeting and he has to grab it with both hands.  David isn’t at this point, at least not yet.  He wants to protect himself and so he’s as much swept up in this thing as Matteo is rather than doing the sweeping.  He needs to be pushed to make this connection, unlike Even who is stampeding towards his as fast and as eagerly as he can.

The second episode can be found right over here

[ladymercytaylor]

All In - Chapter 8 (Joe Mazzello x Reader)

A/N: Your friendly neighbourhood author here! Welcome to Chapter 8 y’all. She’s a thicc little lady and hopefully you like it! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated by my insecure little ass. <3 <3  Want to read the last chapter? Find it HERE Want to read all the other chapters? Find them HERE

Chapter 8 – 16 weeks

The last of the summer heat had finally burnt away and you could practically feel the city sigh in relief. The black sidewalk stopped sweltering in the sun and you were no longer bumping into sweaty strangers on the train every day. But tonight, instead of having to hide inside in the evening when even the darkening sky didn’t provide any reprieve to the stifling warmth, you found yourself venturing into the heart of the city to see Joe. He’d been very vague on the phone the night before, refusing to give you any more details than “Meet me in Central Park on Gapstow Bridge at 6.30. Be there or be square”. You’d found yourself leaving the office that Friday evening with a gentle spring in your step and nervousness fluttering around your stomach. It was becoming more infrequent for you and Joe to spend time together outside the safety of your homes as Nugget grew. You guessed that this outing was a final hurrah before the two of you were quarantined indoors so you were fully prepared to savour every moment of it as you entered Central Park. The willowy trees swayed gently in the evening breeze as you headed deeper into the park. Some of the leaves on the tips of the dark branches were beginning to change to an almost sickly yellow. Fall was slowly creeping into the city and anticipation bubbled in your chest. Even after so many years living in this city you were always excited by the changing of the foliage in the world famous park. Emerald green slowly gave way to brilliant oranges and ruby reds as the wind turned colder and this year you were longing to hide your growing bump in oversized jumpers. 

Joe was waiting for you on the brown stone bridge just as he’d promised, a worn wicker basket clasped in one hand and a tartan picnic rug tucked under the other. You were slightly breathless as you approached him; the golden summer light turned his hair almost pure ginger, bringing out the green in his shining eyes. It wasn’t fair. He seemed to get more handsome every time you saw him. You liked to blame it on the raging pregnancy hormones, but a tiny niggling voice in the back of your mind whispered the truth.  “You found me!” Joe chirped, grinning lazily. He looked very relaxed leaving up against the stone tiles of the bridge but it was cleverly constructed act. His heart was positively hammering in his chest and a sweat that had nothing to do with the warm summer night had broken out across his palms. He didn’t mean to be so nervous around you and he found it slightly ridiculous. He absolutely agreed with Ben; pregnancy suited you. He’d known you for years but the way your body was slowly changing had butterflies erupting in his stomach each time he laid eyes on you. And it wasn’t just the growing of your belly; your face had rounded out slightly as the pregnancy progressed and he loved the softer look. Every time you were with him he had to suppress the urge to wrap you up in his arms and never let go.  “It helps when you’re the only person on the bridge” you teased, tucking your hands into the pockets of your oversized denim jacket. “Otherwise, who knows? Might have walked up to a total stranger” “Well you’d have struck out, cause I’m sure they wouldn’t have a bitch’ picnic planned for you” he laughed as he lead the two of you off the bridge and down towards the pond’s edge.  “Consider me overwhelming glad I didn’t” you retorted as he came to a stop on the grassy lawn a few feet back from the water. Joe set the wicker basket down on the soft grass before unravelling the rug with a dramatic flourish, sending a few loose leaves tumbling.  “For you, my lady” he declared loudly, sweeping into a low bow. You shook your head slightly before pushing off your black flats and setting them next to blanket. “This is all very romantic” you chuckled as you settled yourself on the red and navy fabric. Joe was very glad that you had started helping him unpack the basket so you missed the furious blush that reddened his cheeks.  “I thought we should take advantage of Nugget being smaller as much as possible. I know you wanted to keep it private for a while and we won’t be able to hide it much longer” There wasn’t any judgement in his words, but you bristled at his words. “You want to have to explain this to the world?’ you snapped, eyes narrowing. “We got enough shit just for dating, do you honestly think accident baby is going to be received better?” Joe’s shoulders dropped as the bitter words left your mouth. When you’d shown up on his doorstep with the pizza, Joe had hoped that the tension between you might have eased, but these prickly moments still reared their ugly heads - reminding him that he’d left wounds that weren’t so easily healed.  “That’s not quite what I meant, Sweets” he murmured, focussing on arranging the sandwiches he’d brought to avoid your gaze. “And you’d be surprised. They’ve eased up a lot since the hype died down” he offered nervously. “Forgive me for being sceptical, but if I recall correctly no one was calling you fat. Or ugly. Or asking why I was dating you” a despondent sigh slipped through your lips before you fell back gently onto the rug. “Sorry” your eyes lifting to focus on the rose coloured sky above you, its velvet surface dotted with fluffy white clouds. “It’s not your fault. I just….don’t think I’m ready to hear that kind of stuff being said about Nugget. I’m an adult, I can handle it. But they’re just a baby” “I won’t let them” Joe assured you, reaching over to grab your hand and squeeze it gently before quickly pulling it away. Physical touch was so rare between you two and he didn’t want to push any boundaries no matter how much his brain was screaming for it. “That’s in the job description for dads right? Protecting your family from random dickheads on the internet?” he reminded you before turning to finish setting up your meal.  You found yourself slightly breathless as you realised that was the first time he’d called the three of you a family. And you hated yourself for loving the way it sounded.

“I’m home!” you called out as the front door swung shut with a heavy thud. The only sound in the apartment was the soft hum of a film playing on the TV as you dropped your handbag haphazardly on the kitchen counter. “Hey” Flick smiled from her place on the sofa, her face illuminated by the cold blue light. “How was your outing?” “Good. Joe had this whole picnic thing planned. It was pretty adorable to be honest” you laughed quietly, toeing off your ballet flats before plopping down next to her on the cushions. Your best friend didn’t reply, she simply arched a well-manicured eyebrow that had you groaning loudly. “Don’t look at me like that” “What? I’m not looking at you like anything. Nope. Totally normal” she trilled with fake innocence that was fooling absolutely no one. “Then keep your damn eyebrows to yourself” you grumbled, turning your attention to the film playing on the screen. You should have recognised the bright green and yellow truck as soon as you walked into the apartment and an even louder groan ripped at your throat. “Oh come on, Flick!” “What?” she asked, watching joyfully as you pushed yourself off the couch and stormed into the kitchen. “It’s a good movie!” she giggled, flopping down onto the cushions. “I liked it before you even met Joe!” she tried to explain but the mirth shining in her eyes had you glaring playfully at her in an attempt to ignore the 9 year old Joe Mazzello that was now giving Sam Neil heart eyes on the screen. Despite her amusement, nerves prickled at Flick’s skin while she watched you grab yourself a glass of water. She’d been tearing herself into bits all day leading up to this moment, her stomach looping itself into knots but she knew it had to be done. She paused the movie as you sat down next to her which caused a small whine to escape from your lips. “I didn’t mean turn it off!” Normally she would have laughed at your disappointment, but her anxiety was now too high for humour. “I actually have something I need to tell you” she murmured, distractedly dragging a her hands across the worn yellow fabric of the pillow in her lap. “You’re not pregnant too are you?” you deadpanned, pausing with your glass halfway to your lips. A dry laugh echoed in the silent room.   “Not quite that big. I got a job offer today" “That’s so great!” you grinned, pride warming your chest. You’d watched Flick work her ass of at that restaurant for 2 years and you knew she was desperate to try something new. “Turns out my boss knows Edward Cooke. He runs The Fat Duck in England” she explained and you startled slightly. While you didn’t know much about the restaurant industry, you had been friends with Flick long enough to know of the world famous Heston Blumenthal restaurant. “No way” you exhaled and Flick’s lip twitched at the awe colouring your tone. “And turns out he’s visiting New York, so Ruby invited him in for lunch. Even made sure I cooked his order” “That’s crazy! You thought she hated you!” you laughed. The number of times Flick had stumbled into the apartment at 1 in the morning grumbling about how her boss had refused to let her go until she’s reorganised the dry store or rotated all the chickens in the fridge was now immeasurable. “I know! She didn’t even tell me until the plate had gone out. But I guess it turned out okay cause he offered me a place in their kitchen” “Oh my god, Flick! This is amazing!” you exclaimed, pulling her into a crushing hug. “I’m so proud of you!” She murmured her thanks but you could feel a niggling tension in the stiffness of her shoulders. “The only thing is I have to be in Bray by the end of next week” she whispered, guilt heavy in her voice. Oh. “Wow” you breathed out, a sick feeling churning your stomach. “Well, guess we better go get some boxes” you chirped, hopping off the couch to walk over to the kitchen counter to grab your purse. “Staples will still be open, yeah?” “Y/N” she started to whine but you cut her off immediately. Grasping her gently by the shoulders you held her gaze. “Flick. You’ve been waiting for this for years” you reminded her, eyebrow arched. “I am not going to stand here and listen to you give me bullshit excuses. You deserve this” “But what about you?” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your swollen stomach. Disappointment tumbled your insides but you refused to let it settle. This was not about you. This was about your best friend getting the opportunity of a lifetime and there was no way you were going to let your messy life derail hers. You’d suffer the consequences for your mistakes but that was not her burden to bear. “I’m a big girl. I can figure it out” you shrugged nonchalantly but Flick could feel the slight tremor in your hands, “Now, how many boxes do we need?” “Are you sure?” she asked gently. You nodded, smiling as you watched the excitement growing in her eyes. “Of course. Get your head out of your ass, Flick” you chastised with a shake of your head. “Where do we start?”

“What’s with all the boxes?” were the first words out of Joe’s mouth when he stepped into the apartment, 2 ice-cream sundaes balanced precariously in his hands that Saturday. “Flick got an amazing job offer” you explained, taking the desserts from him to shove them in the fridge. “So she’s abandoning me for England on Thursday. We’ve been packing like mad women” you chuckled, grabbing two glasses of water and bringing them over to the coffee table where lunch was set up amongst the sea of cardboard boxes. “She’s on her way to the restaurant right now so I get to take a short break” “I’m honoured you could fit me into your busy schedule” he joked, sitting down next to you on the sofa. “Do you guys need help? I’ve got the rest of the day free” “That’s okay” you dismissed quickly with a wave of your hand. “We’ve got it sorted” “You sure?” he asked again, his eyes drifting down to your bump. “Pregnant. Not dying” you reminded him tightly. Joe immediately put up his hands in surrender when he registered the warning in your tone, but that didn’t stop his eyebrows from furrowing when you turned away from him. Sure, everything was deemed safer now that the first trimester was over but the last thing he wanted was for anything to put you or Nugget at risk. Grabbing his phone out of his pocket he quickly dialled Flick’s number. “Hi, Joe” she answered after a few rings, confusion evident in her voice. “Everything okay with Y/N?” “She’s fine, currently stuffing her face with waffles actually” he joked lightly. You glared up at him, but the effect was lessened by the dough poking out from between your lips. “She was just telling me all about the job. Congratulations!” “Oh thanks” she chuckled bashfully. The faint sound of a siren echoed down the phone line. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the apartment is an absolute bomb-site as a result” “That’s actually why I was calling. Do you want some help? A certain someone dismissed my initial offer but I have a feeling she just thinks that I can’t be trusted with bubble wrap” he laughed with a pointed look at you. A soft snort came from your lips. You knew he couldn’t be trusted with bubble wrap. The day you’d moved in together he’d wrapped his feet up in it and ran around the empty apartment giggling like a toddler as it popped against the floor. “That would be amazing! You’re the best.” Flick beamed as she walked up to the double glass doors of the restaurant. She could see the servers inside in their pristine uniforms setting the tables with gleaming silver for lunch service. “I’m just heading into work now but I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Maybe you could help me disassemble the furniture?” “Whatever you need, my dear” Joe promised. A strange irritation pulled at your nerves but you quickly silenced it by stuffing another piece of waffle into your mouth and chewing furiously. The call finished up quickly after that and Joe turned his full attention back to you. “I hate you” you muttered darkly, picking up another piece of waffle from the Styrofoam box and dipping into a plastic tub of syrup. “Please” he scoffed, reaching out to snatch the pastry out of your hand. An exasperated breath escaped your lips as Joe shoved the entire piece into his mouth. “You love me and you know it” “In your dreams, dino boy” you mumbled and he had to suppress the sigh that nearly spilled from his mouth. Oh, if only you knew.

“It’s going be so strange living alone” you sighed, looking around the living room. Brown boxes in various stages of fullness were scattered across the floor, some sealed with copious amounts of tape (courtesy of Joe) and others abandoned when the contents had become to irritating to deal with (courtesy of Flick and her ridiculous amount of clothes). “You’re going to have to remember to buy groceries” Flick teased, looking up from the seemingly endless pile of cooking utensils she was sorting and placing into plastic containers. “And take out the rubbish” “And you’re going to be late for the dinner shift if you don’t stop mocking me” you pointed out, gesturing to the watch on her wrist. Her brown eyes flickered down before widening in surprise. “Fuck! See you later!” she shouted, grabbing her handbag on the way out of the door. “And thank you, Joe!” “You’re welcome!” he yelled back just as the front door slammed closed. “She’s a hurricane, that one” he chuckled, picking up the large roll of bubble wrap and cutting off a square. “I’m not sure England is ready for her” “Give Ben her number. Maybe he can keep tabs on her for us” you suggested, placing yet another china dish into the almost overflowing box. “Is spying on your friends such a good idea?” “Well I’m going to need a new hobby! Going to be so bored by myself” you sighed dejectedly. Silence fell over the two of you, only occasionally interrupted by the slice of scissors through the plastic wrap.  “You….you could move in with me?” Joe murmured, his mouth suddenly achingly dry. He refused to take his eyes off the cardboard box he was currently writing ‘saucepans’ on, terrified that if he looked at you his whole body would turn to dust. You paused mid-bubble wrap, the duck egg blue serving plate momentarily forgotten in your lap. “Huh?” was your very elegant reply. “I’ve actually been thinking about it for a little while” he admitted, a rosy blush sweeping up his neck. Truthfully - he hadn’t just been thinking about it for a little while. He’d been thinking about it every single day since he’d left. But now probably wasn’t the time to mention that. “It makes sense for us to live together” “I’ve still got three months on my lease, Joe” you replied, resuming the task at hand. With great care you placed it in the bubble wrap before taping the plastic together and placing it gently in the storage box to your left, determined not to meet his gaze. “You can stay here for the three months if you want!” he added quickly, moving on to fill the next empty brown box with Flick’s collection of cooking books. “I just thought it might be easier for us to do this if we lived in the same house. I don’t think either of us fancies having to navigate a stroller on the subway all the time” Your heart began to race in your chest as you turned his words over in your mind. You’d always assumed you would have the baby with you in the apartment with Joe coming by to help out or maybe take Nugget to his place for a few days. The concept of living with him again hadn’t even occurred to you. When you thought logically, it did make sense; Joe owned his place whereas you were just renting. When he wasn’t on a shoot he was home all the time. And the second bedroom could easily be turned into a nursery. But the idea of waking up every morning to see him in his stained tracksuit pants with his ridiculously adorable mussed bed-hair sent pains shooting through your heart. “Thanks for the offer, Joe” you murmured, flicking at a speck of fluffy cardboard off the plastic bubble wrap. “But I’ll have to think about it” “Take all the time you need” Joe shrugged, a casual smile on his face but his insides were deflating like a punctured balloon.

The delicate early morning light filtered in through the huge glass windows of Newark Airport. Hundreds of travellers bustled around you, dragging their suitcases along the polished tiles but you, Flick and Joe stood still in your own little world. “Please promise me you’ll visit. Even after the wedding” Flick sniffled as your party waited outside the check in desks. Initially she’d refused your offer to drop her at the airport with a resolute shake of her head, insisting that it was better for you to avoid the stress of travelling to Newark, but she’d changed her mind last night. You’d both stayed up way too late, reminiscing about every silly adventure you’d had as roommates in the last year. Every good day. Every bad date and every heartbreak. Eventually you’d both fallen asleep in your bed, Flick’s fingers lightly entwined with yours and tears still swimming in your eyes. “Of course. Gotta introduce Nugget to their Aunty Flick at some point” you smiled tearfully, patting your bump reassuringly. A soft whine resonated in her throat before she wrapped you up in a bone crushing hug. “Don’t say that. You’re making it so hard to leave” she whimpered. You wrapped your arms tightly around her middle, burying your tear-stained face into the shoulder of her maroon hoodie. Flick hugged you back just as tight, but always careful of the new addition. “I’ll see you in two weeks” you reminded her pitifully, sniffling deeply. “And you’ll be so busy being their best new chef that you won’t even notice I’m not around” “Not possible” Flick whispered into your hair, running her hand gently across your back. With an aching heart you stepped away, yours arms suddenly achingly empty. “Knock ‘em dead, Flick” Joe smiled before embracing her tightly. You turned away to dab your misty eyes, missing the word your best friend whispered to him. “Please take care of them” “Always” he promised, squeezing her shoulders firmly. Flick gave him a gentle smile as they pulled away. It wasn’t going to be smooth sailing by any means, but she believed that you two could make it work. There would probably be many stupid fights in the near future as you both continued to adjust to the new path you had unexpectedly found yourselves on; but she had unyielding faith that you could get through it together. She wouldn’t leave you if she didn’t. “Okay, I’m going to go before I have a proper meltdown” she chuckled, her voice shaky as she aggressively wiped at her tear stained cheeks. “I love you both and I’ll see you soon” “Message me when you get there!” you called out to her back as she turned towards the escalators. With a small wave she stepped onto the metal stair, ascending to the international departure gates. You stared after her until she disappeared from sight when a crushing loneliness pressed against your chest. Strangled sobs erupted from your lips. You clamped your hand over to muffle the sound, but it didn’t go unnoticed.  “Are you alright?” Joe whispered, his eyebrows furrowing as you buried your face in your hands. Acting entirely on instinct Joe pulled you against his chest and you responded in kind, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s okay” he soothed softly, a guilty smile growing on his face. He’d been dreaming of holding you again. And even though you were crying on him in the middle of an airport - it was still better than he remembered. “She saved me” you whimpered, tears dripping down your cheeks and soaking Joe’s t-shirt. “In so many ways. I don’t know how I’m going to go without her” “You’re going to be fine, just as you always are” he murmured confidently, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear. “We should get going” you sniffled after a moment, pushing out of his embrace. Joe nodded quickly, stepping back from you. You walked out of the airport together in silence, both of you too focussed on the feeling of being back in the other’s arms and how goddamned right it felt.

Walking back into the apartment felt like landing on an alien planet. All of the brightly coloured cooking books that used to line the bookshelves were gone, leaving blank cavities in their absence. Even the squishy oversized cushions that were the perfect for snuggling into during Netflix marathons had been taken. All of the warmth had gone and suddenly it didn’t feel so much like a home anymore. “Wow. It looks so empty” Joe murmured as he shut the front door with a soft click. “Still looks better than after you left” the words left your lips before you even registered them and guilt instantly stabbed your insides. “Yeah” he agreed with a sigh. As you looked around your now barren living room you felt Joe’s fingers slowly brush against yours. He waited for you to pull away but a tiny gasp floated into the still air as your fingers slid over the slightly calloused skin of his palm to entangle with his. “Joe?” you whispered, nerves twisting your stomach. He hummed softly in acknowledgement, his eyes flickering your face. “Can I please move in with you?” “Of course, Sweets” he smiled, squeezing your hand tenderly as his heart skipped a skittering beat. “Whenever you’re ready” “I’m ready now” “Are you sure?” Joe asked, excitement beginning to flitter in his chest. “Yeah” you nodded, “I don’t want to be alone” “You’re never alone, Y/N” he reminded you, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your hand. “You’ve got a permanent roommate, remember?” he chuckled, prodding your protruding belly gently. “Why yes, thank you for reminding me that I’m someone’s home” you laughed with a slight sniff. “And you’ve got me” he added softly, a tenderness shining in his eyes. They were so full of love that you felt exposed, as if he was looking passed every façade you’d ever presented to see all your insecurities laid bare. Normally you’d turn away, step back and remind yourself that he’d hurt you and that the wall you’d put up was the only thing protecting you and Nugget from future heartache. But in that moment, you didn’t want to pull away from him again. So you didn’t. You closed the distance between you and wrapped your arms around his middle like you had a thousand times before. Nostalgia washed over you like a tsunami as you slotted under his chin, just like a puzzle piece. Joe immediately folded his arms over your shoulders, pulling you tight to his chest. He closed his shining eyes as he committed everything to memory; the feeling of your hair ticking his chin, the softness of the shirt you were wearing . Just in case he didn’t get to feel it again. But a tiny sliver of hope glowed in the back of his mind, whispering that maybe this was the start of something new. Something good.

You’d assured him that you could handle staying by yourself for a week or so while you sorted out the logistics of the move but Joe wasn’t having it. He’d used his key while you were at the practice and started assembling the leftover moving boxes. He seemed to have lost focus around halfway through the process though, as when you came home that night you found them stacked in the living room, positioned into what was clearly a box-fort. You wanted to be irritated that he’d wasted his afternoon off, but the giddy smile that met you as he popped his head out of the fort’s door when he heard you come in had all frustration melting away. “Come on in. I’ve got dinner and every castle needs a Queen” he grinned before ducking back inside. Giggling like a child you’d dropped your bag and toed off your shoes before crawling in after him. He’d clearly spent a lot of time on assembling his creation. The blanket from your bed had been dragged onto the floor which had his laptop set up on it, propped up by your dentistry textbooks he must have liberated from the bookcase. “You’ve enjoyed yourself” you laughed, sitting cross-legged on the soft floor. “Well, I was being productive” he started to explain, handing you your box of Chinese, “and then I figured – how many times in your life do you have the chance to make a giant box fort? And here we are” “You’re incorrigible, Joe Mazzello” you tried to reprimand, but the grin that burst on his face was so bright you were left smiling instead.

An almost melancholy feeling had overtaken you as you watched the movers collect the last of your things, taking them to the truck parked on the curb downstairs. The apartment looked almost exactly the same as when you and Joe had moved into it 4 years earlier. Sure, the floor was a little bit scuffed and the walls were missing a few chips of paint (most noticeably behind where your headboard used to be but you tried not to dwell on it), but you could still remember the excitement that had sparked inside you the day you moved in. Joe had been ecstatic, practically vibrating with excitement as the two of you carried your first boxes into the empty apartment. He’d been wanting to live with you 6 months into your relationship, but he’d kept it to himself, not wanting to freak you out. But then you’d mentioned that your building was going co-op and without the money to buy your apartment you’d have to find a new place to live. He’d practically jumped on you, rambling that his lease was up soon and that he wanted nothing more than to live with you. He’d promised weekly slumber parties with endless bowls of popcorn and massages anytime you wanted them. You’d silenced him with a kiss before he could make a promise that he definitely couldn’t keep . You’d never seen him smile wider as he pulled you into a crushing hug, tucking his face into the soft skin of your neck so that you didn’t see a few errant tears slip down his cheeks. “You ready, sweets?” Joe asked gently as he stepped into the bedroom. You didn’t turn around at his voice, still staring at the view out of your window. It was going to be so strange to wake up somewhere else tomorrow, knowing that you would never come back here again. But it wasn’t just that. This was it. This was the final acknowledgement that everything was changing. Nugget wasn’t just “Yeah, I’m good” you murmured, finally turning away from the glass to face him. Joe looked a little drowsy, the long nights of packing and early meetings for potential productions clearly wearing down on him. But he was still smiling happily “Come along. Let’s get you and Nugget home” he beamed, holding out his hand. You hesitated for a moment, not certain that you wanted to keep crossing the physical boundary you’d done so well to maintain for the last 16 weeks, but the hopeful sparkle in Joe’s hazel eyes won in the end and you let him take your hand and gently lead you out of your old life and into your new one. With him.

And that’s it for this week! Sorry she’s long and a little rough in spots but it’s what we’ve got.  TAG LIST @sunflower-borhap-boys @blushingwueen @briarrose26 @mrsmazzello @escabell @yourealegendroger @sincereleygmg @zvzxs @dramatique-moi @borhapqueen92 @manuosorioh @deakyjohns @rogwhoretaylor @dinkiplier @hargreevesgrace @joes-milk @sam-mercurry-sixx @itsgonnabe-brian-may @ixchel-9275

[mochidrabbles]

Jealousy Headcanons [ Haikyuu ]

I just got back into Haikyuu, so please forgive any mistakes I make with characterization while I get their personalities down!! Thankses <3

Jealousy Headcanons - Karasuno Vers.

Daichi isn’t one to get overly jealous. He’s very level and knows his relationship with s/o stands on even, strong ground. If anything it going to make him jealous it’s someone flirting heavily with his partner and them not turning the person down right away . Though, if s/o didn’t turn the person down right away because they felt too uncomfortable to do so Daichi will feel pretty bad for being irritated with them. Otherwise, Daichi might be able to brush it off but he’s a bit prickly about it for awhile until he’s either had time to work it out with himself or talk it over with s/o. If not, though, he’ll politely interject into the conversation and excuse himself and s/o, dragging them off to ask just what that all was

Suga isn’t unhealthily jealous by any means and he’s all for his partner spending plenty of time with their friends, male or female, especially since he can be so busy with volleyball. That being said, he does have a jealous streak. If Suga feels like he’s being ignored for someone or something else Suga can get a little pouty but is easily sated if he gets s/o’s attention. If someone else is flirting with his partner knowing they’re taken, especially if he’s right there obviously with them, Suga will get a bit grouchy though. Probably gives the person a smile so fake and tight-lipped it’s almost intimidating before hastily excusing himself and his partner and nearly dragging them off. If s/o manages to interject before Suga and tell the other person that they’re clearly and happily taken Suga’s jealousy is almost instantly abated. So long as Suga’s jealousy hasn’t been building from being ignored he’s mostly polite and a small huff and ‘geez’ and a squeeze of his partner’s hand once they’re away from the flirtatious person is mostly enough to calm him down. However, if he’s been jealous for awhile and this peaked it he can be a bit short. It’ll take him a minute or so to calm down, but he’ll probably be a bit embarrassed when he realized how he acted and apologize to s/o for being so abrupt. Please ask him what’s wrong and reassure him don’t let poor Suga bottle up his feelings because he will.

Asahi gets the insecure kind of jealous and it can happen pretty easily. He doesn’t mean for it to, but if he sees his partner with someone else who he feels may be better than him in some way (smarter, more attractive, funnier… it can be anything really) he can’t help but worry and feel like maybe they’d be better for s/o than him. It happens most often if he’s having a particularly bad day. He tends to withdraw a lot when he’s feeling unsure of himself and his value to the relationship and spaces out a lot when s/o is talking to him. It’s actually pretty obvious that something is bothering him and with some gentle coaxing he’ll guiltily admit to his thoughts. Some soft reassurance and quality time spent together help to ease Asahi’s concerns pretty effectively. The longer he’s been in the relationship and the closer he is to s/o the less often this happens.

Nishinoya is kind of an oddity when it comes to jealousy. He’s extremely quick to aggression with men who try to flirt with his partner but that’s almost more out of feelings of protectiveness and pure instinct. Noya is quite wary of boys he doesn’t know well and if s/o say gets paired with a strange boy for a project he’ll probably want to be there to make sure he doesn’t try anything funny which you could technically call jealousy, but beyond that he’s surprisingly chill. He trusts s/o and for the most part if they’re happy he’s happy - so if they’re with friends that respect boundaries and treat them well he mostly doesn’t care. He’s also not the type to get annoyed about not getting attention because if he wants attention he’ll just kinda go up to s/o and take it without really thinking much of it. The only time he really gets jealous is when someone is flirting with his partner and he can’t do anything about it for some reason - then he’s pretty snappy and wants them close to him for as long as his anger is present.

Tanaka totally does get jealous. He has two types of jealousy: protective jealousy, and insecure jealousy. If someone else even appears to be flirting with his partner Tanaka is instantly jealous and he’s there in seconds to cut in and ask the guy just whose girlfriend they think they’re talking to. Of course, he’ll be super embarrassed and apologetic if it’s just a misunderstanding. On the other hand, his partner being incredibly close to another boy will trigger the more insecure side of his jealousy. Tanaka knows this part is unhealthy and he does try hard to curb it, but sometimes seeing them laugh along with them and talk about them when it’s supposed to be just the two of them together plays on his insecurities. Mostly when he’s bothered by this he just gets quiet and if he does end up snapping at s/o at all he feels so bad. He hesitates to tell s/o because he thinks his feelings are unmanly and shameful, but if s/o manages to get it out of him he’s really grateful for it. He promises them he’ll get better about his jealousy and he absolutely will, though in the meantime he absolutely appreciates it when s/o invites him to tag along when they hang out with their male friends

Kageyama isn’t overly jealous about 90% of the time. Frankly he’s not that interested in most people, so if his partner is with friends he doesn’t know well s/o is the only one he sees. Simply put, Kageyama doesn’t care enough about most other people to be jealous of them. Like Hinata, Kageyama is also pretty oblivious so someone subtly flirting with his partner often goes right over his head, so it doesn’t phase him. Even hardcore obvious flirting makes him more irritated than jealous (assuming his partner doesn’t reciprocate, though in that case he just wonders if they don’t like him anymore.) The other 10% of the time is when it comes to people Kageyama does know and has some level of rivalry with or admiration for. When people falling into those categories (Oikawa for example) get too close to s/o Kageyama gets highkey jealous. He’s a somewhat possessive jealous type. At first he’ll be glaring holes into the perpetrators head, though if things get too much for him he probably physically drags s/o off. Once alone Kageyama wants a lot of physical affection from his partner as a way of reassuring himself that they’re still his and still love him and only him

Hinata isn’t really the jealous type. He trusts his partner absolutely implicitly and he’s often too oblivious to notice others advances towards them unless they’re blatantly obvious. Even then, as long as his partner turns them down or rejects the attention Hinata isn’t too bothered - in fact, he almost feels proud that others find them desirable. That being said, if s/o has been paying particular attention to another boy (especially one taller than him that Hinata sees as probably more attractive than himself) or they have to them Hinata can get a bit antsy. If he gets too upset he probably handles things the way he did when Terushima was getting too close to Kiyoko: bodily shoving himself in the way and stealing s/o’s attention back to himself. Chances are it’s enough to make the third party excuse themselves. Hinata is a pretty open book so his partner probably has an idea of what his issue is almost immediately. A few assurances that they’re just a friend or project partner and that they love Hinata unconditionally has his worries eased pretty instantaneously.

Tsukishima is highkey the jealous type, but would absolutely die before he’d ever admit it. It isn’t as though he dislikes his partner having friends or spending time with them (he’s not crazy) but if they seem to be ignoring him for the sake of their friends constantly or always talking about a specific guy while they’re alone together or, God forbid, while they’re on dates, it grates on Tsukishima pretty quickly. At first he’ll just swallow his feelings and leave s/o to do whatever they want but the longer things go on the more his jealousy starts to show through. It’s small things at first: snide comments here and there, spending more time away from s/o or ignoring them more - things like that. If things get really bad he may even try to make s/o jealous, though if someone points out to him how immature that is he’ll realize it and be embarrassed. As mentioned previously Tsukishima will not admit that he’s jealous so even if s/o confronts him about it he’ll probably just ‘tsk’ at them impatiently and tune them out if they push. Getting him to talk about his feelings is incredibly difficult (especially if the relationship is still in its earlier stages.) Either s/o and Tsukishima’s friends get him to finally drop the most obvious hints his pride will let him to tell s/o what the problem is and things will eventually click for him, or things will spiral into a fight. Most likely it will be the former and just expressing himself to s/o and having them make even the slightest of efforts to take his feelings into consideration (texting him while out with their friends if they haven’t hung out in awhile, making plans with him, ect.) generally makes Tsukishima feel better. In the case of the latter, though, everything kind of comes out all at once and s/o is probably going to call him a huge idiot for letting something like that turn into something this big, but hopefully once he’s managed to get it out there they can work to clear the air.

Yamaguchi is another one whose jealousy tends to stem more from insecurity. Generally he’s not actually jealous and any pangs he has fade pretty quickly. But, somewhat of a mix between Asahi and Tanaka, if s/o seems to spend a lot of time with someone Yamaguchi feels somehow inferior to in some way it can really start to eat at him. If he’s jealous he’s quiet about it, but he’ll start to get a bit distant. If s/o brings it up to him he’ll reluctantly tell them what’s been going on though he’s a bit ashamed of himself for feeling that way. However, if things escalate he might snap at them a little, asking why they’re even with him if they like the other person so much. Seeing the hurt expression on his partner’s face makes him feel immediately guilty though and he’s quick to apologize and explain himself. Either way he’s thankful for s/o understanding and promises to tell them if he ever feels that way again.

[kyle-valenti]

the doctor is in ill

kyle/alex

also on ao3

.

Alex Manes tried not to think about a lot of things lately, repressing more and more confusion and emotions than he probably should. Having a father hospitalized in coma due to him attempting murder (after actually having murdered his victim’s father) was hard enough. On top of that he had a friend who had been magically brought back to life by an alien, a best friend who was trying to stop her grief over her alien boyfriend dying for her sister, and then, most of all, he had an ex-something alien cowboy who had left him for his best friend.

All in all, Alex was ready to leave Roswell and never look back. There were multiple Air Force bases he could leave for, but he had stalled. Maybe for Michael. Maybe for helping Liz and Rosa. Mainly to destroy his father’s attempt at a legacy of torture, murder, and fanatacism.

And Kyle Valenti had helped him through all of it over the past few months.

At first things had been prickly, then slowly better and better, and after the catastrophe of Kyle being shot and the intense scrambling to create a cover story they had all but fallen back into their original dynamic. A team.

Which meant that Alex, who tried very hard not to notice things about people anymore, still noticed the way that Kyle’s eyes had bags under them the past few weeks and had seemed to lose the very little weight he had that wasn’t muscle. Now, while they poured over seventy years of studies on aliens, Kyle was also coughing and looking pale. He could pretend he didn’t notice, of course. Let the doctor handle himself.

Unfortunately his worry got the best of him. “Are you sick, Valenti?”

Kyle startled a little at the break of silence, looking a little slow to the take before he put on a fake smirk and confidently replied, “Doctor’s don’t get sick.”

Of course. “…As a doctor you should know that’s incorrect.”

All he got in return to that was Kyle shaking his head. “I’ve been exposed to everything under the sun. My immune system is iron.”

The bravado that was being put forth made Alex want to roll his eyes, but instead he replied. “Your immune system is compromised. You sleep what, three hours a night lately?”

Now his face turned serious, bordering on threatening. “I’m fine.”

“You need some rest.”

“And what, be a resting target? I’m fine.”

Alex froze, unsure what to do with the implication that Kyle no longer felt safe alone. Of course any logical person wouldn’t in Roswell, especially someone who had attacked the father of three very angry war hero sons. Afraid to think further about how this was his fault for dragging Kyle further into things, Alex didn’t push further.

Kyle started throwing up two hours later.

“Come on.” Alex told him firmly, shutting off every computer monitor in one combination stroke of keys so Kyle can’t fight him. “I’m taking you home.”

“Alex.” he grumbled angrily, trying to be stubborn. He had stopped the habit of referring to him as “Manes” after everything had gone down, and Alex had tried to ignore the twinge of intimacy that brought back.

“I’ll be your bodyguard for the night.” Alex told him, not condescendingly. “But I want our bunker to be sterile and not the breeding ground for your flu.”

Of course he got a rather severe glare in return, but Kyle did resentfully follow. Alex grabbed a trash bin, that proved useful during the twenty minute ride back into town and Kyle’s house.

“Hey, least i don’t have to hold your hair back like Liz or Maria,” he teased, trying to make sure that the doctor was still coherent.

Kyle moaned into the bin.

When they finally get to his apartment it took a minute for Kyle to unlock things, including the security system that seems new, but when they finally got in Alex was left to shut the door while Kyle made a beeline for the bathroom. He came back out a good fifteen minutes later looking just as bad but chugging a good four ounces out of a bottle of Nyquil.

“Whoa, okay there,” Alex said, slightly worried that he should take the bottle away even if Kyle would know what he was doing way more than Alex would. “Don’t think it will cure you if you chug.”

“Of course not,” Kyle responded after dropping the bottle. “10% alcohol though.”

Alex couldn’t help but smile a bit at that, shaking his head. “I’ll grab a beer from your fridge then, make it even.”

Kyle gestured vaguely toward the kitchen, instead going down the hallway to what Alex assumed was his room. It was weird, being in the space of adult Kyle. Part of him wished that Kyle lived with his mother so he wouldn’t have to be doing this, but also so that the awkward feeling of seeing a new side to an already new Kyle wouldn’t be knocking down on him.

The overall western feeling to the tone in wood flooring and stone countertops of the kitchen doesn’t make Alex miss the fact that everything is very, very clean for a bachelor. Opening the fridge, all he found were fresh vegetables, fruit, and nothing pre-packaged or left over. More to himself, he still couldn’t help but say, “God, you’re weird now, Valenti. You live like some instagram model.”

There wasn’t a response, so Alex grabbed the one beer in the fridge door, and came back out and into Kyle’s bedroom with cold wet towel as well. Still completely clothed and not having removed one blanket, Kyle was lying face up on the bed. Alex would rather not admit it, but he was almost getting worried, at least until he proffered the towel and Kyle grabbed it.

Alex leaned against the night stand, still standing a foot away, and sipped on his beer.

Kyle groaned, moving the towel not more than two minutes later, and Alex touched it to see it was now hot. “You sure you don’t want to go see a coworker?”

“Fever is good,” Kyle argued weakly. “Fever means fighting off sickness.”

Or burning brain cells, he sighs, but left to replace the towel. This time on the way back he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge as well. After he opened it and gave it to Kyle, replacing the towel, he sat on the end of the bed.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

Since there wasn’t guarded hostility in his voice, like there had been months ago, Alex decided to give a vague answer. “My family has been putting you through the ringer.”

“Still.”

Kyle wasn’t moving very much, other than to groan. The water bottle was only half touched after it seemed to have threatened another stomach turn out of the man. Alex gave in to a kind statement. “You’ve been there for me the past few months.”

“Not enough.” he replied, sitting up for a tiny second only to decide on lying back down against his pillow, his eyes mostly closed. Groggily, but with emotion still, he went on. “I’m sorry, Alex. For everything. For high school and your dad and Guerin and loving you–,”

“What?” Alex interrupted, all too quickly standing up from the bed and moving toward Kyle’s dresser behind him.

Kyle only repeated himself, clearly not noticing. “Sorry for everything.”

It really wasn’t ethical to continue the conversation when his former best friend wasn’t coherent and instead clearly all but dying of the flu. What was ethical in Roswell anymore, Alex wasn’t sure. Guiltily, he prodded. “Including loving me how exactly?”

He doesn’t like how his own voice cracks with insecurity, but Kyle doesn’t notice. “Selfishly. I know I don’t get to, but–” Coughing, the all too pretty words stop before Alex tells him to.

Not expecting to be heard, he weakly said, “Maybe I should call Liz if you’re sick enough to say you love me.”

“I’m just a coward, Manes.” Kyle said. His eyes were definitely closed now, instead of the fluttering they’d been doing, and this is starting to be a worse idea than Alex had expected. “Always been in love with you. Always been a selfish coward.”

Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, he barely replied “I’m gonna replace this. Drink more.”

Alex wished there was some deniability here. Surely there was, right? But Kyle had mentioned Guerin, he had said “Manes”, he clearly was talking at Alex even if he was far too sick to realize exactly what he was saying.

Which was infuriating, because how the hell was he supposed to yell at Kyle when the man was drunk off of Nyquil, head deep in a trash bin vomiting, and sweating through a fever?

He debated yelling anyway.

Instead he went back with a towel to see that Kyle is sleeping now. Alex groaned, swore a few times at his sense of responsibility, and took Kyle’s shoes and socks off. Despite what is clearly sleep, Kyle started undressing further, reminding Alex of how used to being tired the man must be. Sixteen hour shifts with blood all over him at the end sounded all too familiar to Alex, even if one experienced it in a hospital and him on the streets of Baghdad.

With the brief memory of war, Alex took the good excuse to be away from a stripping doctor and stepped out and did perimeter walk. Idly, he checked the security system for its efficiency, observed all windows and exit points. While his brothers hadn’t made a strike yet, it wouldn’t be unlike them to wait until they were less suspect before they went after Kyle. He went back to the bedroom hesitantly at the thought, glad that Kyle still had boxers on (as well as a shirt that was caught hanging off one bicep), splayed out on the bed and now snoring loudly.

Everything in him told him to just leave. Kyle had a security system. Alex had an out.

He stole a pillow after a moment’s debate and rolled it against his neck to sleep against the wall for old time’s sake. He had promised to guard.

.

Alex woke up to the smell of breakfast food and the view of an empty bed. Getting up took a lot longer than he wanted; having slept against the wall with his prosthetic still on had been a mistake. Pain weighed more currently on his mind until he walked into Kyle’s kitchen to see him fully dressed and almost cheery as he cooked.

“You’re back to normal?” he asked, an undercurrent of anger clear in his voice. “Just like that?”

“Immune system of iron,” Kyle said, looking unable to help himself. Turning serious, he turned off his stove burner and apologized. “Hey sorry, man, you didn’t have to watch over me like that.”

“I understand the fear.” Alex said shortly. With Kyle’s wary look, he realized he hadn’t been clear enough. Maybe Kyle had remembered everything said last night, or maybe he hadn’t. “The aftermath of being shot at.”

Kyle stayed quiet, standing over the skillet, and wordlessly offered the egg scramble.

Honestly, Alex should go. He knew this. If he wanted them to stay friends, he would. But hesitantly he agreed to breakfast instead.

The cooking wasn’t that great, which does relieve him a little in a vindictive way. With how much Kyle had changed, he would have been pissed if ‘chef’ was added to his overall now perfect image.

Clearly, Kyle hadn’t even made breakfast for himself anyway from the looks of his untouched plate. Uncomfortably, the man looked up. “I promise I’m not going to revert back to sickness if you blink.”

“That’s not it.” Alex said.

“Ah,” Kyle replied, looking a little pale again. “So it wasn’t a weird fever dream.”

Alex found himself tensing. Was it anger coming back up? “Confessing your feelings? No.”

“On second thought, I’m definitely still sick. Please go and leave me to die this time.”

“Kyle.”

The doctor’s hands went up to stop the conversation, necessary since he wouldn’t come close to meeting Alex’s eyes, instead staring at cold eggs with a tight jaw. “I would never have put that on you if i was coherent.”

“Put that on me?” Alex couldn’t help but ask, both offended and caught off guard.

Still not meeting eyes, Kyle continued in a rant like fashion as if Alex hadn’t even spoke. “It’s not your responsibility to deal with my feelings, it’s mine.”

Alex’s eyebrows rose. “Responsibility?”

“Telling you puts you in a shitty position you don’t deserve and–,”

“Valenti.” Alex cut through. Kyle startled finally and stopped, brows furrowed and dark eyes definitively troubled. “So you were just going to keep that bottled up until you died?”

Kyle coughed. “Pretty much.”

They sat in silence for a second, but only that, because before Kyle could continue his nervous backtracking, Alex stumbled into realization. Surprising himself a little, he admitted, “You were my first crush.”

Kyle shook his head, looking away again. “Don’t, you don’t have to. I know Guerin–”

“This conversation isn’t about him.” Alex cut across again. Kyle paused. “You were my first crush. I felt so crazy thinking there was something, and then high school happened on top of it. And I know why you didn’t tell me, I grew up in this town too. But I wish you had.”

“Back then,” Kyle said with dejection, having listened to him aptly only to give up.

“I didn’t say that.”

For the first time since they’ve become friendly again, they stare at each other over something that isn’t alien related. Before it can sink in how maybe that barrier had led to this, Alex kisses him and Kyle kisses back, fervent, before pulling back. “It hasn’t been a full 24 hours for contagion–”

“If I get sick you’re a doctor,” Alex huffed and shut him up again. The strangeness to kissing Kyle of all people didn’t get past him, in fact halfway through the part where the dining table and chairs were starting to become a cumbersome barrier stopping them from doing more than kissing, Alex pulled back. Kyle all but froze, as if he was terrified that Alex might take everything back. He wasn’t about to, but he can’t help but say, "Not how I imagined this going.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “What did you picture?”

“Well I would have had two legs, for starters.” Alex deadpanned. Nerves brought out his sarcasm every time.

Kyle pursed his lips, looking away with a cocktail of frustration and insecurity, and Alex huffed. “Honestly, Valenti, I meant I thought I would have said something first. Cue first time in a treehouse story.”

A pleasant laugh escaped him, the kind that reminded Alex how much Kyle had styled into himself with grace.

Well, grace mixed with, “You know, doctors used to prescribe orgasms as a cure all before modern medicine.”

There it was, the same flirty deflection as always. Alex surprised himself with his own laugh. The general bizarrity of having Kyle Valenti ask him for sex was too much. “A shame you have an iron immune system.”

“Do I? I think I’m feeling a fever come on again.”

[rosalind-of-arden]

Paper and Fire Reread Chapter 11

Let’s dig some more into the trauma mine of Morgan, Wolfe, Wolfe, and Santi, shall we? Oh, and there is also Thomas.

Jess’s stun shot and Zara’s killing shot both had the same effect, and I just give up on figuring out how these guns and armor work. Ok. Fine. Maybe Zara had hers set to stun too and Jess is just an idiot. For fuck’s sake, I think Santi recovers faster than Zara.

Wolfe snapping at Jess here is totally using anger to cover trauma. He was already a wreck, now his source of emotional support is injured and could have been killed; he can either be an asshole or fall apart, and we all know which way Wolfe’s going in that situation.

But also! Helping Santi means Wolfe at least gets a little cuddling in while they’re going through the tunnel. Whether they like it or want to admit it or not, they both need that. They’re the last ones up from the tunnel.

Jess parked the path and no one seems to be erasing the marks. Are they something the pursuing soldiers wouldn’t recognize? Or is this evidence that Zara lets them get away?

Wolfe vs. Santi on exit plans. Let’s call this one a draw since the kids end up being the ones to solve it. Still 6-0 Wolfe.

Wolfe seems calmer while they’re debating plans. He does better when he has a problem to solve.

When did Morgan get filled in on the plan? While Jess and Santi were up dealing with Zara? Or does she mean that translating back out is how she planned for them to leave?

People who have definitely been to Rome before: Wolfe, Santi, Khalila, Thomas. Part of me really wants to write an adorable and fluffy little child Thomas visiting automata workshop thing now.

Thomas really seems to be struggling to explain his plans here. Just trauma? Or trauma compounding pre-existing difficulty with language?

Santi initially has no patience for Thomas’s difficulty explaining his plan. But then he sees Thomas tremble, and he apologizes right away and shows more patience after that. Recognizing a pattern from Wolfe? I think so.

Dario is the one to suggest splitting the party. I find it a little odd that no one questions this or argues about it.

Jess is underestimating how hunted Wolfe and Santi will be, I think. Even not accounting for the Artifex hating Wolfe, we’re talking about a Scholar who knows how to build a printing press and a high-ranking military officer turned traitor.

Morgan hugs Thomas before going scouting with Jess. There’s that caring side again.

Morgan, still better at stealth than the actual smuggler in the group. For once, kissing while in danger is actually a good idea.

Wolfe gives Thomas his Scholar’s robe here. One, this is so sweet. Here’s Wolfe, who remembers wearing those prison uniforms, giving Thomas something to cover it up, making himself more vulnerable in the process. He’s also offering Thomas an item of clothing symbolic of what he wanted to give Thomas in the first place, and of what was taken from both of them. Two, did Wolfe bring a spare robe? Because he has one on again later (everyone but Morgan and the three High Garda of the group are wearing robes when they go back to the basilica).

"Morgan walked arm in arm with Thomas, subtly supporting him when he faltered.” More sweetness! Morgan is taking such good care of Thomas. And then Thomas reassures her when she worries about Wolfe’s group.

Morgan likes watching Thomas work. Ok, I give up, this chapter just makes me want to write lots of fluffy Thomas/Morgan snuggles.

And now Morgan and Jess are comforting Thomas together. Jess is awkward about touching Thomas, but he knows what to say. Morgan is the opposite: no apparent problem with the hand holding, but can’t find words. Being so freshly out of her own traumatic ordeal, Thomas’s feelings might be a bit too close to hers for comfort. Also, she’s trying very hard to make it look like she’s ok.

Thomas and clothes: Jess thinks Thomas is shy with the girls, but is it just the girls? He seems embarrassed by shirtless Jess, too. As far as removing his own clothes, is it just shyness? Or does he not want the others to see injuries and/or scars? Almost entirely headcanon on the Wolfe side of things, but I’m seeing a parallel between Thomas and Wolfe on the clothing issues.

Morgan is really, really good at taking care of Thomas. All the hugs and hand holding and kisses. Talking about the bird he gave her. The haircut. The new clothes. How much of this is coming from her own experiences and things she witnessed in the Iron Tower?

Morgan says here that the glowing letters are appearing because she’s cheating and wants to see what she’s doing while she works. Remember those glowing letters back in Ink and Bone when Jess aught her? Is this a sign of how far she’s come in her alchemy skills since then: it happened by accident before, deliberately now? Or is this a sign that she was lying then and it was never an accident?

Alchemy takes energy. Obscurists are born with adequate quintessence to fuel it, others aren’t. How does this connect to Jess’s ability to use alchemy-powered Library tools? What energy are those drawing on? Not quintessence, presumably: if it was just a matter of Jess being like Wolfe and having some but not enough to count as an Obscurist, he’d also have the Obscurist spidey sense and be able to identify others with the same power. Well, ok, it’s Jess the Oblivious, so I suppose I shouldn’t entirely rule that option out. And I really, really shouldn��t try to make the alchemy technobabble make sense, anyway. The fucking guns don’t make sense, of course the magic doesn’t.

Wolfe is back, and even though his group had a nice, relaxing lunch, he’s exhausted and irritable. Would Wolfe actually be shocked by Thomas’s behavior here? Or would he recognize himself in it? Jess is too busy fixing a lion to observe.

This whole bit of Jess and Thomas deciding on a name and pronouns for the lion is adorable.

Grumpy, flustered Wolfe and the lion. So cute. Wolfe does not want a lion that requires cuddles. But given that he pushes Santi forward after he’s done, I’m going to say this isn’t fear or trauma, just Wolfe being his usual prickly self. After everything he’s been through, he doesn’t have the energy to be nice about this.

Santi has worked with lions before: he was controlling them to some extent when they first got to Rome. He’s quite pleased to have one that’s even more under his control. He, unlike Wolfe, is totally an animal person. (Mechanical animal person?) They’d totally have a dog if not for Wolfe refusing to have anything to do with it. Maybe he even just likes lions in general; he’s got a tattoo of one, after all. Symbolism, too: here’s a symbol of the Library, turned to their side.

While Wolfe’s crankiness about the lion wasn’t trauma, Glain’s definitely is. She’s been holding herself together all day. Now it’s her turn to have a meltdown. Her world has been shaken: everything she worked for and trusted turned out to be bad, she just had to fight against her fellow soldiers, and she’s not having an easy time working out what she should trust now. She’s probably also insecure about her ability to deal with friends who have changed, particularly Thomas: she does not know how to help him, and that would frustrate her. Morgan and the lion make convenient targets for all those feelings.

Traumatized, angry Glain is really an asshole: the suggestion that Morgan might turn against her friends because of “What might have been done to you” is especially hurtful, not only to Morgan, but also to Thomas and Wolfe. The Library put all three of them through trauma to try to make them into something it could use. Saying they might turn out to be dangerous because of what happened to them plays right into their insecurities.

And that particular comment is where Santi steps in. He didn’t break up the argument when they were just fighting over the lion or whether Morgan could be trusted; he’s willing to let the kids work that shit out themselves. But when she implies that a traumatic ordeal can turn a person dangerous? Santi shuts that down right away and orders her to go make friends with the lion. He’s nice enough about it, probably recognizes a traumatized soldier lashing out (he totally does the same shit himself), but he is not letting her poke at Wolfe’s insecurities.

More Artifex and Archivist conspiracy notes. They’re both still assholes, what else is new?

[sprnklersplashes]

Hullo, saw your views on Rose, and I do agree a lot. I was wondering what you thought of the other companions, like Martha, Donna, the Ponds, River, etc?

I am glad you liked my thoughts. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, but this ask prompted, wait for it, 2.5 thousand words on my love and appreciation for each of these darlings, because I do love them all.

Under the cut we go!!!!

Martha- Martha Jones walked away from all of time and spacebecause she wouldn’t do it with someone who did not respect her (no offense to10 but she deserved better than you) and that ladies and gentlemen is thedefinition of a strong female character. Even from her first episode I lovedMartha balancing doctor training with her incredibly dysfunctional family andinstead of taking a moment to break down and scream (which is what many of uswould do) she just gets on with it, a little sarcasm and eye rolling sure but she doesn’t let it put her down and doesn’t get bogged down in her stressful life. There’s also how she is a badass withoutneeding to be physically violent or use weapons. In fact I don’t remember a lotof scenes where she does use weapons (thought it’s been a while). She walksacross the Earth using nothing but her bravery and wits, she finishedShakespeare’s spell to the witches on the spot even when the Doctor couldn’t doit (also, Expelliamus, you babe, Martha), ended Joan Redfern with her knowledgeof the bones of the hand (which is some pretty complex information she whippedout off the top of her pretty little head), and talked down to the Daleks(which yes used a weapon but it was a weapon given to her). Whether she wasbluffing or not in that instance, that took some serious guts and homegirl didnot break a sweat while doing it. A small but beautiful moment for her is inher first episode where she says “How many people want to go to the moon? Andhere we are!”. She knows how scary the whole thing is but at the same time shesees the absolute beauty and knows how unique an opportunity it is, and that’sa beautiful thing for her.

Donna- Oh Donna Donna Donna. If there was ever a characterwho was more fitting of the ‘deserved better’ label, it’s her! I don’t think itis physically possible for someone to dislike Donna. Let’s get the obviouspoint out of the way first; best lines ever. I mean between “oi watch itspaceman” and “don’t get clever in Latin” she had some of the funniest lines onthis show. Now that that is out of the way, can we appreciate the hope she has?She sticks out with the belief she will see the Doctor again after the Runaway Bride, and I feel likeher changing her mind humanised her a lot. She said she didn’t want to butthen, things changed, because people change. I liked her taking matters intoher own hands re: Adipose and investigating thinking she could run into theDoctor there. Even from there, she is on equal footing with him. Now we move onto her compassion which is so lovely, especially towards other women, like MissEvangelista (and I love their relationship because I feel like Donna was comingfrom a place of understanding with her, knowing how it feels to beunderestimated, and making sure she thanked her and noticed her even if no oneelse did), Evelina, Jenny whom she immediately bonds with even when 10 isprickly towards her. She just wants to make friends with all the people shemeets and I think that’s an amazing character trait. Not to mention how she demands to be treated as an equal, no matter if it’s a UNIT soldier (”I’ll have a salute”) or an alien ( “Every bit as important as Time Lord, thank you very much”). Her growth was amazing.She didn’t acquire a lot of new skills, just the confidence to utilise the onesshe had! I am still so bitter and upset about her ending because she did notdeserve to have all her amazing adventures and development that came with thatstripped away from her.

Amy- Amy is “my first bb girl” in that s6 of Doctor Who wasthe first one I watched, and the first fandom I was in and Amy was my firstfavourite female character, so I am very protective of her. When we first meether adult self, Amy is desperate to shed the “Amelia” part of her, kick out thechildhood dreams, but even in season 5 we still see a sort of childlikeexcitement because she has not suppressed her inner child and that isbeautiful. She also has a lot of insecurities in her arc, shown in herrelationship with Rory-not in a “I worry that he’s too good for me” way but ina “I don’t know if I am ready for this level of commitment” way-which 1. imomade for a very relateable character and 2. Gave way for a whole level ofcharacter development, because by around the end of series 5/start of series 6she was wholly comfortable in that relationship. But even then she can’t sitstill as it were, she says to the Doctor that she can’t keep a job and, while Ido acknowledge is in part to the fact she is waiting for him to come back, sheis also finding herself, which right now, I relate to massively as a youngwoman. She doesn’t keep a job because she doesn’t know what she wants. Shemodels, she writes, she makes perfumes, she can’t sit still. Amy’s story islargely about growing up and learning to stand on her own two feet, and that iswhy it culminates in her choosing to go back in time with Rory. Now this is abit of my own personal thinking here, but to me Rory represents “normality”, anadventure free, dull life while the Doctor represented everything else. Thiswas her growing up and saying she was choosing normality, her “not a littlegirl anymore” moment. She doesn’t outgrow her flaws, she’s still very impulsivein season 7 but she learns to deal with them maturely. I imagine a lot of hertroubles come from the neglect she endured as a child and I curse Moffat fornot allowing her to deal with her trauma in a healthier way. But anyways, Ithought her growing into her own and maturing was lovely to watch.

River Song- Ah River, or as I like to call her “who my 13-year-oldself aspired to be”. She’s just, so beautifully complex. I think what I lovemost about her is she lives her life on her own terms. She takes a lot of risksbut she…. well I wouldn’t say doesn’t care but she certainly seems to thinkthey’re worth it. And she lived her life totally on her terms, even when shewas in jail! She just casually breaks out and in as she pleases, just waltzingaround like a babe! She also has so much confidence it’s inspiring. She’sclever and she knows it. She has most people wrapped around her finger, evenfrom her first expedition in the library we can see she is the (unofficial)leader. I don’t know if I would call her fearless, but she rarely showed fear.Vashta Nerada? Weeping Angels? She has got this. Plus, homegirl graffitied theoldest cliff face in universe like can you get any more iconic? She is alsogorgeous and she knows it. She has a great body and flaunts it because it makesher feel good and that’s a good lesson we ca all take away from her. I thinkthere is also a hugely tragic side to River. Every character on this show hadfamily issues; Rose lost her dad, Martha’s parents split, Amy was neglectedetc. and then there is River, who was kidnapped, tortured and brainwashed. Andyet she kept on fighting and as a child managed to fight her way out of anastronaut suit and braved the streets of 1960s New York as a child. And that’sjust the tip of it. I saw a post once that in the s6 premiere, when she isalone talking to Rory, in that moment, she isn’t just someone talking to a guyshe just met, she is a little girl running to her daddy and telling her she’s scaredand wants her parents, and it hurts god damn it, it hurts. Underneath thebravado, the flirting, the teasing, she’s scared. I am not amazed that she cameout of it a good person, I am amazed she came out of it sane. But she is such agood person. She managed to overcome her brainwashing and kill the person sheloves most, and then sacrifices herself in the library. One of my favouriteRiver moments is her moment with Donna when Donna asks “How come I’m not in thefuture” and River’s face (huge props to Alex here) just falls so much and thereis so much empathy in that scene. I also think her determination to rebuild herrelationship with her parents is so beautifully inspiring and we were cheatedout of scenes. I also think her past adds to her relationship with the Doctorsince he was likely the only person outside of her parents to care for herwhich is why she latched on to him (not saying that avoiding killing him was atall right, it was definitely wrong sorry bby girl, but it is kind ofunderstandable).

Clara- Oh Clara my Clara. If you couldn’t tell by my bio, Iam a massive Clara Oswald fan, and she is currently in a three way tie forFavourite Fictional Character Out Of Anything Ever (tied with Emma Swan andKillian Jones from Once Upon A Time). Where do I even start with her? Even fromher first episodes, confidence oozes out of her every pore and it is earned.From Oswin (who I fell in love with in 2 seconds flat) and her “total screaminggenius” to modern day Clara and “Clara Oswald for the win” she just knows howamazing she is and I totally love it. It’s not conceited arrogance, not “I ambetter than you” but “I am awesome and I know I am”. Now let’s move on to asimilar topic, baby girl is very smart as heck, even without the computerknowledge uploaded into her via Great Intelligence. She noticed the littledetails “a chimney that doesn’t blow smoke”, she thought on her feet “I’m theDoctor”/ “Your daughter, Skaldak”, she keeps pushing Bonnie and manages to stayequal with her by using her wits (sidenote, can we give all the awards to Jennain that episode because good lord), her whole time in Flatline (which isprobably my favourite Clara episode ever), with the clockwork robots she keptthem talking, risking her own life in the process because she knew how to.Also, right from the word go she is making it clear with the Doctor that she ishis equal and that she is the one in charge here, right from “come backtomorrow” and “see you next Wednesday”. This continues later in her arc “you’reone of my hobbies”. One of my favourite lines of hers is “I’m not a bargainbased stand in for someone else, I’m not going to compete with a ghost” and itjust sticks with me because she is there asserting her authority on the TARDIS,prepared to walk away right now if he does not respect her for who she is, andit is marvellous to watch. And then this comes back in 12’s run where she goesoff on him for abandoning her and I feel like he needed her to ground him andmake him more human. She is not afraid to call the Doctor out on his shit,whether it’s something big like in Kill The Moon or something relating to herdirectly, “speak for me again and I’ll detatch something from you”. Now let’smove onto another, beautiful topic, Clara and kids! We see this in the Bells ofSaint John how she gave up her plans to travel to look after Angie and Artieand then again in the next episode she comforts and all but adopts Merry Gallel,and her with young!Doctor, soothing his fears. It’s a little topic but it’s sobeautiful. She is also, for a lack of a better word, beautifully badass! Shehas stared down Cybermen, Daleks, Missy, all the Doctor’s greatest enemies, andnot blinked. That is how badass she is. She is also incredibly brave, rightfrom the start she volunteers to go into the Ice Warrior, she jumps into theDoctor’s timestream, she sacrifices herself for Rigsy. She’s a beautiful exampleof how bravery and fearlessness are not the same thing. Her dying words are “letme be brave”, which is a beautiful moment for her. There is also something somagical about her, so fairytale, the excited traveller. Her first request is tosee “something awesome”. She doesn’t care, she just wants to be impressed. She practicallydances when she arrives somewhere new. Underneath her no-nonsense “bossy controlfreak” exterior, there’s an excited young woman getting to travel. She ishugely flawed but she is aware of it, which I find amazing. She says in HellBent “I’d say I’m sorry but I’d do it again”. She is reckless and a littleselfish, and she knows it. Ultimately, it is what kills her, but it still makesfor a wholly unique and beautiful character.

Bill Potts- Ah my precious Bill. I think the quote either Moffator Pearl gave “she’s got her feet on the ground and her heart in the stars” (orsomething) is so perfectly her. She is just so open and in my opinion, we needcharacters like that, who smile through rainstorms. I mean, she wanted to go tothe future because she wanted to see if it was happy, which is kind of tragicbut also pretty beautiful when you think about it. I think the fact that sheshowed up at lectures even though she wasn’t a student was so great. All shehad was a love of learning even if she wouldn’t do anything with it, and yes, anatural curiosity about the Doctor himself. The Doctor says that when she doesn’tknow something, she smiles, which is another lovely detail on her character andagain shows her curiosity and just how much of a sunshine she is. There’s nofrustration in not knowing, it’s a new chance for her to learn. Her reactionsto everything around her are so amazingly realistic, calling the Victorianorphans “cute as”. I think her question to the Doctor in her first episode, “Doyou know any sci-fi?”, shows a lot about how she is the dreamer, the one whothinks up impossible scenarios and answers, she dares to think outside the box.Bill has such a strong mind that even being a cyberman could not stop her fromcaring and fighting back. Her teasing the Doctor is absolutely adorable and isreally her way of establishing her own authority on the TARDIS, unlike Claraand Martha, she doesn’t do anything where she demands his respect, she gentlyeases it out of him with her quirky teasing (“Time Lord, sounds posh”), notsaying one way is better than the other, just that it’s a cute and unique wayof her building an equal relationship with him. I think Bill is definitely oneof those characters we so desperately need more of in TV, little rays ofsunshine who want to make everyone else’s days brighter, who want to pushforward and achieve and try because why not, even if it won’t lead them anywhere,who wants to see if the world will still be a happier place tomorrow. And Ilove her for it.