#i got so confused while editing for this prompt because nearly all the examples of 'cringe characters' i could find were perfectly normal

[shinyedits]

✨|| scenecore rainbow dash & fluttershy graphics

for @lavendergalactic's event; the most insane edit you can think of / a character people usually deem as "cringe" official art used

[contraststudies]

“Angel, help me out,” Crowley groaned.

“Oh, alright.” Aziraphale laid down the first edition of The Picture of Dorian Gray he had been re-reading for most of the morning and moved his cup of tea away from where it was balanced precariously on the edge of his desk. He leaned over and plucked the small black book from Crowley’s knee. “Classifications of contracts according to cause,” he read aloud.

“Mm.” Crowley held up three fingers. “Onerous, remunerative, and gratuitous.”

“Explain each and give an example.”

“In onerous contracts, there’s a promise of a service or a thing by one person to another,” Crowley said. “Like when we were still actively abiding by the Arrangement. I did blessings for you, and you did temptations for me.” His lips curved into a smirk. “You tempted for me.” 

“Yes,” Aziraphale glared at Crowley. “That was indeed onerous, I suppose.”

“That’s the easy one.” Crowley stretched out on the sofa, looking for all the world like the satisfied snake that he was, basking in the morning sun. “Next is remunerative contracts, where one party rewards a service previously rendered by the other.”

“For example?” Aziraphale prompted.

“I want to say when I blessed Hamlet, but no,” Crowley said thoughtfully. “That was my treat.”

“Yes, you did mention that.” Aziraphale smiled at Crowley gratefully as he scowled. The dear boy could be so ridiculous about his own kindness sometimes. “Give me a different one then.”

“When you, erm.” 

To Aziraphale’s surprise, there was an unmistakable flush creeping up Crowley’s face. “What is it?” 

Crowley faltered, then plunged on. “1967. When you – you brought me the holy water.”

Aziraphale’s mouth dropped open. “What in the world do you mean by that?”

A deluge of spluttered consonants flooded from Crowley’s lips before he recovered himself. “Well. I got you out of the church, didn’t I? Your books, too. And I drove you back here afterwards.”

“So?” 

“So the holy water was – not to be crass, Aziraphale, I’m just using the language of the law – to reward me for a service I previously rendered for you.”

Oh, dear. Something had been egregiously misunderstood here. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said slowly. “No. Absolutely not.”

“What’re you on about?” Crowley sat up from where he had been lounging on the sofa, looking puzzled. 

Aziraphale shut the little book he held. “Crowley, is that what you’ve thought all this time? That I gave you the holy water because you saved my books?”

“Well. Yeah.” Crowley looked up at him, a pleading expression in his eyes. “Only explanation that makes sense.”

“Oh, my dear boy. When I gave you the holy water, that was… gratuitous. Define that for me, while we’re on the topic.”

“Gratuitous contracts,” Crowley recited, still looking confused. “Designed solely to procure the welfare… of the beneficiary.”

“Keep going.”

“Without any intent of producing any – any sssatisfaction for the donor,” Crowley continued, the flush on his face growing steadily darker as a hiss slipped from his tongue involuntarily. “Self-interest is totally absent on the part of the donor.” 

“Do you understand?”

“Angel,” Crowley muttered. “You’re killing me here.”

“I gave you the holy water because I wanted to.” Aziraphale hesitated. “I suppose that’s not quite entirely true. I didn’t want to. But I wouldn’t have you risking your life with your ridiculous plans of robbing churches and whatnot. You know this. I’ve told you this before.”

Crowley scrubbed a hand over his face, now nearly as red as his hair, and shrugged. “Yeah, alright.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I do,” Crowley objected, perhaps too quickly. “Really. I do. Nothing to worry about, angel.”

“The demon doth protest too much, methinks.”

A strangled noise left Crowley’s throat, and he threw himself back on the sofa in a huff, curling in on himself with his back turned toward Aziraphale. A smile twitched on Aziraphale’s lips as he got to his feet and gently ran his fingers through the red curls that Crowley took such pride in growing – they were nearly shoulder-length now, and softer than silk in Aziraphale’s hand.

“My dear, I know I haven’t made it easy for you to believe me, and that is entirely my fault.” 

Crowley made a muffled sound into the paisley blanket.

“But I mean it with all my heart when I say that I did that for you. Solely and exclusively for your welfare. No other reason.”

At last, Crowley’s face emerged from hiding as he turned toward Aziraphale, though he wouldn’t meet Aziraphale’s gaze. “Okay. I just, er –” He grimaced in frustration. “Just remind me sometimes, alright?” 

Aziraphale dropped a kiss lightly on the crown of red hair, the black tattoo, the corner of Crowley’s mouth, one after another until Crowley turned toward him, tilting his face up. “As often as you like,” Aziraphale said, as he bent down and pressed his lips softly against Crowley’s.

--

Read the other ficlets on Tumblr:

novation / innominate contracts / knowledge of acceptance / vices of consent  / elements of an actionable conduct

Read them on AO3 here! 

[gayoperatorgunclub]

For the OTP ask thing 26, 34, 39, 47 and 81. For your fav ship, it's up to you which one you choose!

ohohoho! i’m actually gonna pick more than one, so here’s doc/lion, doc/monty, twitch/cav, blitz/rook, and blitz/monty! 

Doc/Lion- 

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - i think they’d be pretty good at it, seeing as olivier actually has a son, and gustave gives off Dad Energy 

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - olivier definitely makes fun of gustave for little things like handholding or wanting to cuddle, saying stuff like “oooh you like me” and gustave just stares at him and is like. we are married. 

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - GUSTAVE!!!!!!!!! he is a cuddly man and is Certified To Be Huggable. he’s shaped like a friend. love is stored in the combat medic. olivier will get an email from him thats just like: come to the medbay i need your help with something. and so he goes and gustave just motions for him to come in, gets out of his chair, grabs olivier’s wrist and tugs him closer, pushes him into the office chair, and climbs up onto his lap, his back to olivier’s chest, and grabs olivier’s arms and wraps them around his torso, and goes back to work for a few minutes, but he ends up falling asleep once olivier starts rubbing his tummy or sumn. whatever it’s very cute 

47 (Who proposes?) - i’ll probably use this setup for a lot of different ships, but there’s a post that talks about how a girl proposed to her girlfriend 3 times, 2 without a ring (1 because she panicked, another because she thought her gf was gonna propose and wanted to beat her to it) and lemme just say that olivier proposed to gustave at least 10 times, from handing him a ring pop while drunk and carrying him home to plan the wedding, to talking with lera about their upcoming date and she mentions how it’d be the perfect opportunity for someone to propose and so olivier panics and rushes to the medbay and is just like “gustave i love you so much you’re the man i want to spend the rest of my life with will you marry me” and gustave, who has had a stressful day, walks over to him, wraps his arms around him and presses his face into his chest, and starts crying. worry not though, when olivier finally actually proposes it’s remarkably well planned out, very romantic (perhaps in a park or on a beach or some other picturesque location, since i hc doc to be something of a nature lover so maybe olivier takes him for a picnic out in a meadow or something. it’s very aesthetic. gustave cries. and says yes. 

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - olivier woke up in a hospital bed with gustave sitting next to him, holding his hand, and olivier looks over at him and says “je t’aime beaucoup” before passing out again. gustave will only end an argument with “because i love you” if they’re arguing about something stupid like olivier wanting to eat nothing but croissants for a week and gustave has to be like “no you cant do that because i want you to stay alive and healthy because i love you” since i read the prompt and thought “hm. manipulative.” this almost always results in olivier either calling him a “trick ass bitch” or leaving a voicemail on his office phone that’s just this 

Doc/Monty- 

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - they’re both great at being the dad friends to other operators, but i feel like they’d think they were too old to have kids of their own, as much as they would adore it. they’re everyone’s first choice for babysitters though, and if any other operators have kids, they're referred to as uncle gustave and uncle gilles or something cute 

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - i think neither, but gustave would probably see gilles holding flowers obviously meant for him and be like “you are a lovesick fool” and gilles is like “sir we have been married since it was legal???” 

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - GUSTAVE!!!!!!!! again, he’s a cuddly man and gilles is an absolute Unit, so they’re both more than happy to curl up around each other and sleep in eachother’s arms 

47 (Who proposes?) - gilles. it is, quite literally, the perfect proposal. (gustave is blissfully unaware of the fact that it’s almost happened many times before, mainly whenever gilles enters their bedroom after returning from a mission to see gustave wearing one of gilles’ hoodies, curled up in a pile of pillows in bed, and has to restrain himself from waking him up to ask if he’ll marry him. 

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - gustave was being carried out of his office by gilles after deciding that fine, he can finish the paperwork tomorrow, and he sleepily mumbled “je t’aime, gilles” before going limp in gilles’ arms, almost giving him a heart attack. luckily, gustave was still breathing. gilles definitely uses it as a last-ditch attempt to get gustave to go to bed, like “PLEASE come to bed, gustave” “why should i? you know i’ll come to bed once i’m done with these files” “because i love you, you hypocritical fool!” then manhandles him to bed 

Twitch/Cav- 

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - NO! they are either mischievous older sisters, cool cousins you see once a year, or wine/vodka aunts. no matter what, they will bastardize your children. taina taught maxim’s niece how to make a molotov “just in case the bourgeoisie tries anything” while emmanuelle is off to the side like “USE A DRONE TO BE ABLE TO LAUNCH IT FARTHER FOR MAXIMUM DAMAGE” 

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - taina will be like “why are you staring at me? do i have something on my clothes?” and emmanuelle is like “no you’re perfect it’s just that i love you and want to see you” -OR- 

emmanuelle: haha you like spending time with me 

taina, in emmanuelle’s lap while they watch animal planet: no. 

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - it depends! usually it’s emmanuelle, but sometimes taina will enter a room and say “you look cold. i suppose i could help” and just. wraps herself around emmanuelle and falls asleep. everyone else is too scared to say anything, especially after emmanuelle almost stabbed james in the neck when he tried to draw on taina’s face 

47 (Who proposes?) - emmanuelle: she panics and throws the box at taina and runs, while julien sprints after her yelling “TELL HER YOU LOVE HER AND WANT TO MARRY HER WE ALL KNOW SHE’LL SAY YES” 

taina: they are in a diner after a mission. halfway through their meal, taina gets up and takes a knee in front of emmanuelle, taking the box out of a secret pocket in her pants. julien has to tell emmanuelle, who is nearly asleep in her pancakes, to look a bit to the left. she does, and taina’s like “i love you. we’ve already sworn that we’ll be together forever, but i think the tax benefits are too good to ignore. take your time with your response. thanks” and power-walks away. vicente meets her outside and just starts laughing while she punches him while saying stuff like “i talked about TAX BENEFITS! TAX BENEFITS?????” 

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - emmanuelle for both. it’s not that taina doesn’t love her, it’s just that she shows her affection through physical gestures. however, whenever taina actually says “i love you” emmanuelle just melts

Blitz/Rook- 

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - TERRIBLE IN THE BEST WAY POSSIBLE. they are both Children themselves, so putting an actual child in their care is stupid. the one time they were entrusted with caring for a child, it involved face paint, an easy bake oven, a staggering amount of chocolate, and the child’s parents finding the three of them passed out on the couch while minecraft let’s plays played on the rec room tv

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - julien will find little love notes around elias’ room and tease him about them, and elias is just like “aren’t you the one who came up with a ridiculously elaborate plan for us to go on a date without it actually being a date instead of just asking me out??” 

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - both. depends on who is more sleepy at any given time. it’s usually julien tho

47 (Who proposes?) - elias: very romantic, heartfelt, they’re both crying while dominic and olivier threaten anyone who even glance at them sideways 

julien: it’s a ring pop (but a limited edition one he’s been saving for a special occasion), they’re at a rainbow holiday party, and dominic is playing wonderwall

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - elias, before they were even together. they were at another holiday party and he was feeling sentimental, so seamus convinced him to go talk to julien and the first thing he says once he’s stumbled over to the couch is “you. you are an angel. i love you.” except he said it in german so now julien thinks he’s done something wrong, which leads to a 6 month period during which they’re both pining fools who think they’ve done something to upset the other, while seamus is in a perpetual state of looking into the camera like he’s on the office. neither. they are both enablers for the other’s stupid ideas (example: julien trying to give himself the ability to breathe fire by swallowing many on-fire marshmallows, and elias trying to shield-surf down a mountain in the french alps breath of the wild-style  

Blitz/Monty- 

26 (How good would your OTP be at parenting?) - gilles? the perfect father. elias? he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit. he has no FUCKING clue what children enjoy or what’s appropriate for a specific age group, so he usually enlists the help of several other operators (none of whom are any good with kids) and together they attempt to care for a child. think lunchables, mcdonald’s, and ice cream as every meal and staying up until ungodly hours. gilles is off to the side, watching amusedly and making sure nobody is ever in any serious danger. elias may be clueless, but he’s not completely incompetent, and the kid has a great time, always pestering their parents about when they can visit uncle elias again 

34 (Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?) - neither, really. they’re both pretty lovey (is that the right word? idk they just really enjoy being together and find any quirks or evidence of crushes extremely endearing) 

39 (Who sleeps in the other’s lap?) - ELIAS!!!! gilles would CRUSH this poor little man!!!! of course, this doesn’t stop elias from summoning super-strength to carry gilles to bed and hold him on his chest the way gilles does for him whenever gilles returns from a particularly long or grueling mission 

47 (Who proposes?) - elias: he gets nervous and starts to tear up multiple times throughout the proposal, before he even gets on his knee, prompting gilles to worry that he’s sick, or being sent back home, or that he’s going to break up with him. luckily, elias manages to pull himself together and finally pop the question, and the way gilles immediately tackles him, muttering things in french while peppering his face with kisses is answer enough 

gilles: it is the Perfect Proposal, and elias leaps into his arms while frantically saying yes and kissing him all over. dominic yells at them to get a room, but with a sincerity that lets elias know he’s truly happy for them 

81 (Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?) - gilles. they were cuddling on a lazy sunday and during a lull in their conversation, he quietly whispers it into elias’ ear. coincidentally, that is also the day gilles learns elias’ ears are especially sensitive, and having someone whisper into them is one of elias’ biggest turn-ons. honestly? neither. but gilles would probably use it when elias announces he’s going on a shield-surfing trip with julien and has to be “tricked” into staying non-alpine land

[obsidianarchives]

Body Shaming in 'Harry Potter'

Re-reading the beginning of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, I’m surprised by how much I sympathize with the Dursleys. I don’t particularly like them in the general sense, but considering the scene where the Weasleys come to pick up Harry from their perspective, and Dudley’s perspective in particular, it becomes incredibly difficult to imagine a world in which they weren’t deeply skeptical and suspicious of magic. Magic, for the Dursleys, is scary and destructive, and for Dudley, in particular, has enacted much violence upon his body.

It is no secret that I have been a long-time fan of the Harry Potter series, as something that I have held near and dear to my heart for a long time, and at certain points in my life it has filled the religious and spiritual void that I felt within myself. And yet, as much as I often treat the series as a sacred text, there are a great many failings, and nowhere do I feel that is more clear than in the vicious attacks that are made against those who do not fit into the conventional molds of body image. The narration of the text uses the description of the body as a weapon, and a proxy for how we are meant to feel about a given character.

This is not uncommon in storytelling, and not unique to Harry Potter. The common narrative that society tells us is that pretty people are good and ugly people are bad, and society also tends to have pretty strict and nasty ways of describing who fits into either of those categories. The Harry Potter series is one in which there are very few characters where their race is explicitly stated, which is good because it means that there is room for interpretation. But one thing that is often explicitly stated in the text is when a character is being described negatively, they are given a value judgment based on their appearance and how they achieved that appearance. And nowhere is that more clear than with Dudley Dursley.

From the moment that we are introduced to Dudley, we are given the impression that he is a misbehaving child — the first word his says is either “shan’t” or “won’t” depending on your edition and he is described as “kicking and screaming for sweets.” He’s called a “beach ball” and a “pig in a wig.” Again and again the reader is hit over the head with the fact that Dudley — who is bad — is fat, while Harry — who is good — is skinny. Dudley is spoiled and petulant, and yes, he’s a bit of a horrible kid, but also he has really horrible parents. Dumbledore is not wrong in book six when he says that Vernon and Petunia have done a disservice to Dudley in treating him the way that they have. But Dudley is also mistreated by wizards. Hagrid gives Dudley a pig’s tail — was intending to turn him into a pig completely — and knows that he cannot reverse that. He never does reverse it, and by telling Harry not to tell anyone (protecting his own interests since Hagrid is not supposed to use magic) Hagrid dooms Dudley to needing to get the tail surgically removed by Muggle means, which was no doubt expensive, humiliating, and painful.

The ton-tongue toffee incident, which is what prompted me to ruminate on all this again, I found to be just so cruel. Because Dudley is on this incredibly forced and restrictive diet, being taunted by Harry — who is not following it at all — and is basically going cold turkey on all the foods he has normally had. His whole worldview has shifted when his version of normal (although it was anything but) changed. He’s not actually starving, but he probably feels like it, because it is such an abrupt shift in his eating habits. And here are the first sweets he has seen in probably months, and they cause this horribly, physically, and psychologically painful incident.

Then, only a year later Dudley has the experience with the dementor, a monster that almost sucked out his soul. This is often remarked upon as the turning point, where Dudley starts to evaluate his actions and change his ways. And yet this change is due to a real violence by magic, and as a whole magic has not been kind to Dudley. Nonetheless, at the start of the seventh book he was able to make an effort to reach out to Harry. The problem is that it’s framed as though Dudley only gets to make this transformation into a better person once he has matured enough to start getting into a “better” physical shape. Once he takes up boxing, and becomes athletic, his bulk is attributed to muscle rather than fat. Only then is he allowed to be something akin to a better person.

All over the Harry Potter canon we see unpleasant people described as being ugly. Pansy pug-faced Parkinson. Umbridge the toad. These are the people we are clearly supposed to dislike, and these traits are not assigned to antagonists as a way to set them apart. But the way it works with fatness is a bit different, because for all that Vernon and Dudley are called out for their weight, the characters we are supposed to like, even if they share a somewhat similar physical shape, don’t get this treatment. Neville, for example, is simply called a “round-faced boy.” But the actors who play Neville and Dudley looked so similar to each other when I watched Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone for the first time at age five that I got confused and thought Dudley had somehow ended up at Hogwarts. And Mrs. Weasley is described as being “plump.” Ludo Bagman, who is a character we are meant to both dislike and sympathize with, is described in middling terms.

“He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, Harry thought), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.” — Chapter Seven ‘Bagman and Crouch.’

These small moments in the way characters are introduced make the characters memorable, but they are also slightly insidious, and not at all kind when the narrator doesn’t want to be.

All told, fitting the conventional mold is not a universally bad thing, but the way this is portrayed is problematic because the way in which certain characters but not others are shamed for their weight/appearance seems to promote the idea that being treated with respect regarding one's body is a privilege that can be revoked in response to bad behavior, rather than the basic human right that it should be. This falls into a pattern of privilege where some privileges, like how Dudley is spoiled by Vernon and Petunia, are things that no one should have, whereas the privilege of being afforded basic respect regardless of one’s body type is a privilege that everyone should have.

There are also many slights against people who are perceived as thinner too. Petunia, for example, is often contrasted against Vernon as being quite thin. In their first introduction, they are compared as having “hardly any neck” and “nearly twice the usual amount of neck” respectively. The critique of Petunia’s size is on the opposite side of the spectrum, but it’s there, and it shows that the body-shaming in the series is across all body types, and in particular, directly correlated with a character’s likeability.

I’m not capable of cancelling in its entirety something so fundamental to my worldview as the Harry Potter series. But the more often I return to the text as an adult, the more flaws I find. In a way, that is almost a good thing, because in finding the parts of Harry Potter that don’t hold up to scrutiny, I am able to hold a mirror to the ways society as a whole does not hold up to scrutiny. At the same time, I can’t say that in good faith, because Harry Potter is a book series targeted at children, who can through the lens of these books (as well as the rest of society’s pressures) internalize the idea that it’s OK to make value judgments about someone based on their body, which is simply not true. We must imagine people complexly. And I guess that means we have to imagine books complexly too.

Header image via Wizarding World

[bubblegum-switch]

Kitziwch – Human Things

Anonymous asked: i've got a request! I honestly just want something with lance getting reCt tbh, so uh. They're in the castle and so, allura and coran are like "lmao whats ticklign" and they want someone to demonstrate it, so they chose keith and lance to do it, first lance is all like scared n, stuff but then keef breaks the awkwardness and just pouncess on lance and coran is there just taking notes with allura And when they're done pidge says something like lmao good blackmail material and they're both SHOOK

Ask and you shall receive, friend :) I hope I did it justice

Title: Kitziwch – Human Things (b/c I can’t title for shit)

Word count: app. 3.6k (Side note: holy shit that’s longer than I anticipated)

Rating: it gets a b i t suggestive at one point but nothing more than like PG-13

Time: Before the end of season 2 I guess maybe, Shiro doesn’t have his Bayard so…

Characters: The main 7 (Keith, Hunk, Lance, Pidge, Shiro, Allura, Coran)

Pairing: pre-Klance

Genre: so fluffy it gave me cavities

Themes: Ticklish!Lance, Pining!Keith, ticklish!Keith, brief ticklish!Shiro to kick off the plot, this scenario is such an oldie but a goodie and I feel honored to write it, f u c k I’m so weak for Lance getting reKt you have no idea, I don’t know what “““correct form””” is but I needed a good opportunity so I could be very wrong but fuck that I don’t really care, it takes like over 1k words to get to the meat of the story I’m so sorry but I needed enough exposition for this prompt, I love using personal experience for help with writing haha…, am I minorly projecting my synesthesia onto fictional characters now is that what is happening, I’m writing this whole thing while over-tired over the course of several late-nights at like 11pm-4am and I think it shows, Ernest Hemingway Mr. Write-Drunk-Edit-Sober would be proud but then again what is editing, my tired ass decided to just fuckin give Lance a special kind of love for it which is why it gets suggestive *winks with both eyes*, fuck I need sleep, I did a surprising amount of research for the title, don’t ask me why Keith is so skilled he just is, Lance is literally a ball of ticklishness help him it’s adorable, I had so many options for endings  I hope I did this one right, there will likely be a part 2 b/c of another prompt I got that this can lead into so…

A/N: Ok so “Kitziwch” [kind of pronounced kitzee-ucx I think] is a word I created to be the Altean word for “tickle” out of the German word “kitzeln” and the Welsh word “Ticiwch” because of reasons you’ll find out at the end of this

---

At the training deck, Allura was trying to get a better feel for each of the paladin’s combat strengths and weaknesses. She was going to have each one go up and complete a relay of sorts – which was made of an opaque maze (unlike the electrified invisible one), fighting several types of drone-bots, and testing the accuracy of their Bayard. Coran was watching as well, taking notes on each round.

Pidge was up first, and she made it through the maze quickly, but lost time at the flying drones and accuracy due to the short range of her Bayard.

Then it was Lance’s turn. He didn’t get through the maze as fast as Pidge, but more than made up for it with accuracy.

Hunk was about in the middle so far for the maze time-wise, but was able to quickly obliterate the drones. However, his Bayard was not as precise as Pidge’s or Lance’s due to its comparably wide damage-field.

Keith practically danced through the maze, even though he got hung up a few times. He slashed through the drones and had a near-perfect score on accuracy.

Shiro was last to go, and after getting through the maze and the drones he was getting ready for testing the accuracy of his arm.

“Hold it!” Allura rushed to him. “I can’t ignore you Earthlings’ improper form any longer. I have held my tongue but I’ve had enough.”

“Aw, why didn’t you tell us? I would’ve fixed it,” Lance said from the sidelines.

Allura smiled apologetically. “You were all on a roll. I didn’t want to interrupt you, but I just can’t let this finish uncorrected.”

Shiro relaxed his stance. “Sure, Princess how do I stand?”

“Alright Shiro, hold your back in a straight line – don’t hunch over,” she said casually, circling him as he followed her directions. “Hm, good. Now, keep some bounce in your knees – you look too stiff, and if you can’t move freely you can’t evade.”

“Okay,” he replied, trying his best to follow suit. “Am I doing it right?”

She paused behind him. “Here, let me help you angle yourself a bit better.”

She reached forward and put her hands on his sides to adjust him. He jumped a little, but Allura credited it as surprise and shrugged it off. She tilted him to the left a little bit to balance himself, pressing her fingers into his ribs accidentally, and he involuntarily snorted out a surprised laugh.

This time, she quickly retracted her hands. “Everything alright, Shiro? Are you hurt?”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and smiled at her. “I’m fine, don’t worry, it didn’t hurt.”

She looked at him quizzically and tilted her head. “Then why did you make that noise? That was a laugh, right?”

“I guess I’m a little ticklish, that’s all,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That shouldn’t get in your way again, I just didn’t expect it… Allura?”

She looked like she was deep in thought, trying to remember something that was forgotten a while ago. She looked to Coran, who looked back at her, just as confused. “Do you know what he’s talking about, Coran?”

“No, I’ve never heard of that before either. I don’t know what he means.” He turned to the other four paladins. “Can any of you translate? Altean often overlaps with your language, but there’s no word for that.”

“I can try to explain,” Pidge volunteered. “Basically, someone is ticklish, you can tickle someone, and that someone gets tickled. Linguistics aside,” she adjusted her glasses, “basically it’s when someone is touched in a way that makes them laugh. Some people like being tickled, some people hate it, and there are people that are more ticklish than others.” Pidge smirked, “for example, I’m not that ticklish. Shiro, on the other hand… well you’ve seen that he is.”

“Thank you, Pidge,” Allura said, still confused. “I think that helped, but I still don’t really understand it. How can touching someone make them laugh? And can everyone do this?”

“I agree, I’m still confused as well,” Coran piped up. “Can we have a demonstration? I think that might clear it up.”

“Oh yes, I think that would be great, Coran!” Allura agreed. “But how do we get someone to demonstrate it?”

“Well, if you want two people to show you what it is, I recommend some people who you want to see laughing, or to get revenge on. Tickling can be a great form of revenge, sometimes. It can also be a good bonding experience.”

“Alright, Pidge, then I think it should be…” she thought for a moment.

Lance’s eyes were wide, and he was trying to act like he wasn’t affected by this when every iteration of the word made him want to crawl out of his skin. He noticed Keith hiding his face behind his hair a little more than normal. Hunk, however, was completely fine through the whole conversation so far – not even blushing (like Shiro was, oh boy his face was pink).

“Lance and Keith.”

“What?” Lance shrieked, and then cringed at how terrified he sounded. Keith turned his head away so no one could see the grin that was beginning to invade his face, as well as the blush that sat upon his skin.

“Well, I think you two have some differences you need to work out, and Pidge said that tickling can be used as a bonding experience. Plus, Keith never laughs, and maybe I’m considering this revenge for you constantly flirting with me, Lance,” she said brightly, laughing at the end and showing she wasn’t actually upset.

“Yes, I think they would make a good match-up for this ‘tickling’ thing,” Coran agreed. “I can take notes on this to better understand it.”

Allura walked over to where the red and blue paladins were inching away towards the door. “Come on you two,” she chirped, grabbing their wrists and pulling them into the center of the room. She stood them face to face – or as good as she could get them since neither one would meet the other’s eyes – and she retreated back to where she previously stood next to Coran. “Alright… now start… tickling each other?” She glanced at Pidge to see if she had used the word correctly, and was given a thumbs-up in return. She smiled satisfactorily, and waited.

Lance shifted uncomfortably where he stood. Neither paladin moved or looked at the others.

“Why aren’t they doing anything, Number Five?” Coran whispered to Pidge, pen poised above his notepad.

“They must be shy about this, but don’t worry. Maybe they need incentive to get started.” She smirked, before shouting “if neither one of you starts tickling then someone else will tickle both of you!”

She grinned broader when she saw their faces turn redder and Lance nearly squeaked at the threat as Keith huffed through his nose.

Allura whispered to Pidge that she had an idea. “Keith, Lance was complaining about your mullet again yesterday!” she yelled to them in a sing-song.

Keith’s eyes snapped to Lance’s in an instant, biting back a grin. Thank you, Allura, for giving me an opening. “Again with the mullet?” He started inching towards the blue paladin. “When are you gonna let it go?”

Lance began protesting as he inched backwards, hands raised in defense. “No no no she’s lying Keith, I didn’t insult your mullet yesterday… to her anyway!”

“Oh, so you did?” he cracked his knuckles, and Lance squeaked.

“W-well,” Lance’s voice was unnaturally high. He gulped and steeled himself, stopping in place. “It is pretty terrible…”

That was the final straw. Keith yelled “enough with my hair!” and pounced onto Lance, knocking him to the ground.

Keith lay on top of Lance for a moment, blinking down at him and realizing Lance could’ve gotten hurt from that.

“Did that hurt you?” he asked quietly.

Lance fought back a smile, “no.”

Keith’s face finally split into that large grin – one of the first Lance had ever seen on him. “Good, because then this definitely won’t.”

The blue paladin’s eyes grew wide and his face grew pinker as Keith’s words fell from his lips. He didn’t have time to dwell on it much, however, as soon all thoughts were abandoned as he felt hands on his hips and two thumbs brushing over the skin. His breath hitched in his throat as he bit his lip and began to smile.

The pressure from the two digits increased, and he began squirming and laughing in little breathy huffs. “K-Keith come hahahon buhuddy…”

“So you remember me being your ‘buddy’ but not our bonding moment?” he teased, changing to squeezing Lance’s hips causing sharp, shrill laughs and him to buck up and down.

Lance felt what seemed like electricity shoot through his body, and his mind went blank. “NOHOHO KEIHEEHEETH,” he pleaded through laughter.

“If you say so, I’ll stop with your hips…” the red paladin near-growled (which made the boy underneath him blush even harder), and, in keeping with his word, shot his hands to Lance’s stomach. In desperation as his laughter reached a fever pitch, he reached to grab Keith’s hands. Keith was having none of it, grabbed them, and pinned them above his head. Keith held them with just one of his own hands, putting enough weight on them both to not hurt them but keep them in place. He tsked down at Lance before returning one hand to his stomach and scrabbling his fingers wildly, causing the blue paladin to dissolve into hysterics.

Lance couldn’t even protest anymore, for a few reasons (one of which he’d explain to Keith later, much to both of their delights), but mostly because he couldn’t physically form words with Keith’s hands there. However, it became even worse(?) for Lance when the red paladin decided to take it up a notch and stick his hand underneath his shirt to tickle Lance’s bare skin.

Lance’s vision erupted into brightness as his laughter turned silent from the fast, firm fingers digging gently into his stomach.

Keith’s face dusted pinker as he marveled at how soft Lance’s skin was, before realizing that Lance probably needed more air than he was currently getting. He let him laugh silently for a few more moments before letting up.

Lance panted, catching his breath and smiling largely. His relief was short-lived, however, as Keith’s hand crawled up his side, on top of his shirt once again. Lance was back to squirming as he felt his fingers walk slowly up his waist, and ribs, and then finding their target in his left underarm. Lance shrieked as Keith’s fingers danced in the hollow, and skated around the edge.

“KEIHIHTH COHOHOME OHOHON YOU’RE MEHEHEAN”

The red paladin laughed. “You think that’s mean, I’ll show you mean.” Keith let go of Lance’s hands, which instantly shot to grab him again. Keith stopped tickling for a moment to take one wrist in each hand. He maneuvered them under Lance’s back so his own weight was holding them down, allowing Keith to use both hands. He pressed his knees on either side of the blue paladin to keep him in place, and sat on his hips. Keith reached behind him and squeezed Lance’s knees, extracting deep belly laughter and causing his legs to flail around to their maximum allowance.

Keith inched his hands up to Lance’s thighs, and alternated randomly between squeezing and fully tickling and lightly tracing them. Lance dissolved into uncontrollable giggles at the latter two techniques, and let out yelps interspersed with short, barking laughs when he dug his fingers in. The layer of denim was no match for Keith’s teasing touches.

Keith’s fingers drifted from the top of Lance’s thighs to his inner thighs, but due to the quick change in his laughter Keith moved back to save him any embarrassment. Well, any more embarrassment. Keith didn’t fail to notice the… *ahem* lengthening of the individual laughs and how they seemed to become more throaty and less… less like laughs and more like something that under other circumstances he would be thrilled to hear.

Lance didn’t notice.

Keith hoped none of the others did, and he filed it away in his mind for later. He figured it was probably best to move his hands somewhere else.

He brought his hands to Lance’s sides, spidering from his waist to the middle of his ribs as best he could. Lance’s belly laughter returned, but he wouldn’t look at Keith – he kept turning his face away to try to hide – which the red paladin thought was adorable.

“MEHEHEAN”

Keith laughed along with him. “Alright, I think I can live with that,” he smiled down at him. He wanted to kiss Lance’s blushing cheeks, and he almost did before remembering the other 5 in the room.

He felt Lance’s ribs under his fingertips, and he dug into them a little more, making sure to press in-between the bones. He used both hands to play Lance like a twin piano with keys to the left and right. The blue paladin’s laughter became shrill at his upper ribs, and Keith was a little resentful that he couldn’t really get at Lance’s underarms while he was in this position.

Although, there was a place Keith wanted to try. He moved his hands slowly to Lance’s neck, dragging his fingertips gently the whole way. He began wiggling his digits against the soft skin there, causing Lance to scrunch up and start giggling. He tickled the right side of his neck, and watched Lance try to trap his hand between his head and shoulder. He tickled the left, and Lance did the same. When he tickled both sides of his neck, however, Lance tried to pull his head into his body like a turtle and wrenched his eyes shut.

Keith laughed again. He didn’t think Lance would’ve been able to be taken down by a few light touches on his neck (or his thighs, but that was another matter).

He didn’t want to keep at his neck too long, since that was a dangerous place to linger for a few reasons, but he didn’t want to be done quite yet. He decided to give his neck a break, and figured that it was a gamble for the next spot. Either it wouldn’t be ticklish and he’d have to move fast, or Lance would be even more adorable just by default.

Keith brought his hands to Lance’s ears and lightly brushed his fingers on their undersides on the thin skin and around the outside ridge of each one.

He played his cards right.

Lance’s giggles became effervescent as he scrunched up his face and turned his head from side to side as Keith’s heart melted.

“Nope, you can’t escape it now,” Keith teased quietly.

“Kehehehihith cohohome ohohohon…” Lance whined, but not for him to stop. He just… he couldn’t handle being teased.

Keith stayed tickling his ears for a few moments, before deciding that there wasn’t enough of a canvas to work with. He withdrew his hands, trying to figure out where to strike next. Hm.

“Do you think he’s done?” Keith heard Coran whisper to Hunk.

“He shouldn’t be, he’s forgetting a couple key spots,” he said back.

Keith grinned. Right. He slid off of Lance, who didn’t move right away.

All he did was ask, “are you done?” But not even in a tone conveying annoyance, just simply a question posed as if asking the time.

“Not yet, turn over,” Keith told him, and Lance froze, blush returning to his face.

“Come on, Lance!” Hunk encouraged.

“Yeah, it’s for science!” Pidge supported.

“And inter-cultural studies!” Allura chimed in.

“I’m writing as fast as I can!” Coran yelled in a hurry, apparently marking down everything that occurred.

“Come on, Lance, do it!” even Shiro was getting in on it.

Keith smiled down at him. “Come on, either you turn over or I go back to your stomach…” he raised a claw-shaped hand over him.

Lance groaned and flipped himself over, but Keith caught the smile on his face too. Lance was even biting his lip to keep from grinning more.

Keith sat on Lance’s thighs, facing his feet. He grabbed one of Lance’s legs and pulled his foot back towards him, eventually grabbing onto his left ankle. He pulled off Lance’s sneaker, and held it tighter before descending five wiggling fingers onto his upturned sole.

Lance erupted into laughter the instant Keith made contact.

“AHAHAHA KEHEHEHIHIHITH WHAHAHA—COHOHOME OHOHON”

The red paladin shook his head, chuckling and smiling fondly. He spidered his fingers along Lance’s arch, sliding farther down his legs so he could put more weight on Lance’s calves so he wouldn’t need to hold onto his ankle.

Lance felt fingers dancing as close to the base of his toes as they could get with how tightly they were curled. He shrieked with laughter as he tried to kick his foot out of Keith’s grasp, but it was held tight.

Keith smiled, and laid his leg over Lance’s spare one, holding it down with his weight. He leaned forward, and with the hand that was tickling his foot Keith pulled his toes back and held it in place. He was practically sitting on the back of his knees as he took his now free hand and tickled his stretched-out sole.

Lance continued his high-pitched laughter as he began clawing at the cool tile of the floor. Keith scratched along his cotton-covered arches, and Lance went limp with loud giggles bubbling out of his mouth as if he was a popped bottle of champagne.

Keith could’ve tickled him there forever, if only just to hear him laugh like that until the end of time.

He moved his nimble fingers to his heels and brushed around the edge, and Lance’s laughter became fuller again as he shot up, propped up on his elbows, eyes wrenched shut and face flushed.

Keith snickered at the instant reaction, and he was amazed that Lance hadn’t even said the word “stop” at any point. Keith knew that they were about equal in strength, but Lance never made a move to push him off…

Keith’s thoughts were interrupted as he felt clumsy fingers at his sides. He fought back his own laughter as Lance tried to retaliate. He had managed to bring himself up far enough so he could reach Keith, but he could barely do so.

However, it was enough for Keith’s incredibly sensitive sides. He started losing focus from the light touches, and as he arched his back and removed his hands from Lance’s feet, beginning to laugh himself, the tables were turned. Lance was able to roll out from under him and tackled him, situating himself on top this time.

“Write that down, write that down!” Allura was lightly smacking Coran’s arm out of excitement.

“Is that legal?” Coran asked Pidge and Hunk.

Pidge smiled, “all is fair in love and tickling.”

Coran nodded seriously, and continued jotting it down in his notepad.

Lance smirked down at Keith, who was sprawled out on his back with Lance pinning down his legs with his own. He was panting heavily and his face was deeply colored red, but his eyes were bright and happy.

“You know…” the blue paladin began quietly, and Keith had the impression that the words were not meant for the others to hear. “I could get my revenge right here, right now.”

Keith would’ve been worried, if not for the fact that everything other than Lance’s voice was conveying pure joy.

“Or… we could run back to my room and I could tell you things that would probably be good for both of us.”

Keith nodded quickly. “Yes. Let’s go do that.”

The two jumped up and began running out of the room before they heard—

“Think that’s good blackmail Shiro?”

Lance and Keith froze, and looked back at Pidge with wide eyes.

“I wonder what I can use this for…” she pondered aloud with mock-innocence.

“You were recording that?” both paladins asked simultaneously in embarrassment.

She smirked. “Remember that the next time I ask for the cookie jar,” she laughed. “Because who knows… it might just get broadcast to an entire planet, then they’ll know that the great Blue Paladin of Voltron is incredibly ticklish.”

Lance began walking towards her. “You wouldn’t…”

“Oh, I think we both know I would, and that I’ve had enough of your discrimination against people under 66 inches tall,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

Lance cracked his knuckles, walking closer to her, who didn’t back down. “Keith? Wanna help me here?”

Keith grinned evilly, “it would be my pleasure.”

“Oh my gosh!” Allura cried out, smiling largely and stopping the two in their tracks. “I just remembered something, Coran!”

Her advisor looked at her as well. “Kitziwch, right?”

“Yes!” she smiled, and the paladins could see right through her act. “We do have a word in Altean for that, it’s ‘Kitziwch’.”

Lance and Keith blinked at each other.

“You know, Keith, I think she knew all along. I think she tricked us into this!” The blue paladin said with mock-surprise.

Keith fake-gasped in return. “I think you’re right! But what do we do about Pidge and her blackmail, and Allura?”

“I do not know, there’s only two of us…”

“But there’s also two of them…”

“Fair point, buddy, so what ever shall we do?”

Keith grinned. “I think we have one clear option.”

“Shall we attack to defend our honor?” Lance readied his stance.

Keith followed suit, “absolutely.”

[jordan202]

My Boys Drabbles - Elevator Ride

Hey guys. I wrote this story a couple of days ago and it probably deserved more decent editing by me. Since I’m on a train to Scotland doing basically nothing, I’ve decided to post it. :)

Thank you @jia911​ for your reliable support and proofreading!

This story is from the series My Boys Drabbles but it can also be read as a independent one shot.

The Prompt:

The lovely @bluebelle18 asked to write a story about Owen getting really angry at Amelia.

Timeline:

This happens before they had kids, after ‘Sunburn’ and ‘Pest Infestation’.

  My Boys Drabbles – Elevator Ride

 “Hey, Jim!” Amelia barged in the radiology room where the neurosurgery team usually gathered every Tuesday morning to discuss cases. “How was the weekend?” She playfully asked, suggestively giving her colleague a pat on the shoulder and a dirty gaze. “Yeah, look at that womanizer face you got there… I bet you had some fun!”

Jim Nelson gave her one mortified look that made Amelia crack up laughing. She loved to tease the other attending and that was no secret. Seeing her colleague’s usual lack of response, Amelia was about to add another teasing comment when her husband stormed into the room.

“I need you, ER, now,” He demanded, without offering any explanation.

Amelia frowned and looked puzzled from Jim Nelson to the door, but Owen had already left. Without much of a choice, she excused herself and followed his trail, wondering what in the world could justify Owen being in a hurry like that.

.

“You stay close and make sure you have your kits on you all the time,” Owen commanded, pacing back and forth to make sure the whole team was properly geared up. “Don’t forget to add the appropriate tags so patients can be removed after they were assessed,” He reinforced for the third time, taking one last look at the team of five doctors who were in the transport with him.

Owen made individual eye contact with each one, receiving affirmative nods in return. It was no surprise people were following his lead, considering his entire background. Owen Hunt was good in critical situations and everyone knew that. To have a strong, imposing leader like him inspiring trust and confidence was comforting for the team of surgeons who were just about to take big risks in a massive accident location.

Not twenty minutes before, the trauma team of Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital had been called in for help. A building had collapsed five blocks away from the hospital due to a gas explosion and there were dozens of victims at the scene. Pretty much every unit of firefighters, paramedics and trained policemen had been designated to the field but because of the severe injury of most patients, the situation demanded more trained personnel.

As chief of trauma, Owen had stepped up and assembled a team he believed would be up to the task. Riggs and Avery went as seniors attendings, overseeing Deluca and Wilson while doing their job. Meanwhile, April Kepner stayed back in the ER dealing with the overflowing influx of patients. Owen knew a neurosurgeon would be much needed and his first thought had been to spare his wife, instinctively preferring to leave her back within the safety of the hospital. But once he realized the other attendings weren’t up to her talent and skills, Owen reconsidered for the sake of the patients on the accident scene.

“Does everyone have their pagers?” Owen asked. “Alright people, stay safe and don’t go anywhere the firefighters haven’t secured yet. If you need help, page or run back here.”

Giving Riggs one final nod, Owen got off the car, knowing him and the other former army surgeon would lead others by example. Soon after, Owen was too caught up in work to be thinking about that, but every once in a while his eyes would search across the field for his team.

After at least three hours of intensive work, Owen let out a sigh of exhaustion and satisfaction, noticing the last critical patient being removed from the scene. The rescue team had completely evacuated the building and the only victims still there were stable enough to wait for an ambulance. Scanning the location with his well trained eyes, he quickly spotted Avery by one corner taking care of burnt victims as Riggs helped Deluca transport an overweight patient. Jo Wilson was doing sutures near the ambulance parking lot and Owen continued his search, hoping to catch a glimpse of his wife.

When he realized she was nowhere in sight, Owen nervously started to pace around, telling himself to remain calm. He asked the others if they’d seen Amelia, but all his colleagues said they hadn’t in a while. Doing his best to control a wave of bad feelings that had suddenly taken over him, Owen took large strides closer to the building site, away from where the victims had previously been securely located.

“Hey, have you seen the neurosurgeon on my team?” He asked one of the policemen who was keeping the perimeter of the place. “She’s about 5 foot 4, dark hair, blue eyes…?” Owen frantically searched around while he described her.

“No, doc, I haven’t, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to step back,” The officer said very seriously. “This area isn’t secure yet.”

Owen nodded affirmatively but he was hardly paying any attention. Feeling his stomach churning in discomfort, he searched around, trying to catch sight of his wife as he asked around about her. Half way through scanning the building perimeter, he noticed a small crowd that formed around one of the broken pillars of the construction. People were whispering nervously, as if speculating, and Owen somehow knew that he wasn’t going to like what he would see.

“What’s going on?” He approached the group from behind, trying to be heard through the wailing sirens and the screaming firefighters.

“Some crazy woman got inside one of the elevators,” A fame police officer raised her voice trying to compensate for the loud helicopter blades not too far from them. “The firefighters are trying to get her out now, but it seems like something snapped and the doors are crooked. I’m not sure they can get her out without compromising the structure of the building.”

Owen felt chills on his spine and he didn’t even need to look to know. Something was telling him exactly where he would find Amelia.

Ignoring all orders to stay back, Owen marched towards the pillar, pushing people out of the way that tried to stop him. When he finally made it to the inside of the building, amidst all the dust and bricks he saw the small hole on the wall through which two firefighters tried keeping a conversation with someone.

“Sir, you can’t go in…!” A firefighter stepped forward to stop Owen.

“It’s my wife in there!” Owen snapped, completely ignoring the orders. He bent down in front of the scene, squinting to take a good look through all the dirt. “Amelia?!”

In a fraction of a second, something grey moved inside the elevator but just as suddenly, two familiar bright blue eyes looked up and Owen let out a sigh of deep concern.

“I’m coming out!” Her voice sounded optimistic and comforting, even though she was the one in the dangerous position.

“Amelia, what are you doing in there?” Owen angrily stretched his neck to take a better view of her face. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I’m nearly done,” She replied, without explaining any further.

Owen looked from his wife’s eyes to the firefighters squatting beside him. Both men returned his look of absolute confusion, letting the trauma surgeon know they were just as oblivious as to why Amelia had jumped in there.

“Listen, doctor, you need to let me get you out!” One of them spoke again. “This pillar is very unstable and if it doesn’t hold there’s a big chance this ceiling is going to collapse right above where you are.”

“I’m in a metal box,” Amelia’s voice sounded muffled when she replied, as if it made her safe.

“No, you don’t get it,” The firefighter patiently tried to explain. “It is going to collapse and it when it does, you will…”

“Amelia, damn it!” Owen furiously snapped, interrupting everyone. “Get out of there, right the hell now!” He ordered, in a tone of voice that accepted no refusal.

Both firefighters looked up to the tense husband, their eyes wide with apprehension. Owen was about to crouch down and forcefully grab Amelia up, risking jeopardizing the whole structure, when she finally brought her face up, staring at the rescue team with a smile.

“Done!” She said, with what looked like a mix of happiness and relief. “I’m done!”

Before any of the men could ask what she was talking about, Amelia lifted up her arms and handed out what looked like a mass of wrapped blankets. Only when it discreetly moved that the rescuers realized it was a baby.

“She’s still breathing but she was trapped upside down in the stroller!” Amelia raised her voice to be heard in through the hole. “I think she must have cried herself to exhaustion and she definitely looks dehydrated… Here, take her.”

One of the firefighters got the baby and handed her out to a paramedic, who quickly evacuated the child from the scene. Owen was running his hand through his hair in frustration, looking from the pillar to the elevator hole, desperate for his wife to get out of there as soon as possible.

He saw a firefighter reaching out to hold her as Amelia swiftly moved her body up, crawling through a gap very few adults would be able to fit. She was almost fully outside when Owen’s heart skipped a beat as he watched her foot getting stuck in the gap between the doors. The trauma surgeon took one step forward, determined to help when he saw his wife forcing her way outside, pulling her leg with so much strength that the elevator slowly lost its balance.

Everything happened too fast and before Owen could catch up with the situation, heavy blocks of cement fell a few meters from where they were standing. The thick dust quickly ascended, preventing him from seeing much else. Two people screamed at the same time and instinctively, Owen bounced forward, grabbing his wife’s hand before he could completely lose her out of sight.

“Amelia…!” Owen cried out with a broken voice, fearing for the worst.

The fraction of second that came after felt like an eternity. Owen felt like an entire movie was playing in his head and he saw countless scenes playing in his mind.

“I’m fine,” Her distinctive voice resonated, allowing Owen to properly breathe again. “I’m out, I made it out.”

The trauma surgeon felt his entire body relaxing at the sound of her words but he didn’t stay calm for long. Furiously maintaining the hold on her hand, Owen helped her get up, protectively wrapping one arm around her shoulders while leading the way for the two of them.

The minute their stepped foot outside, reveling at the dust free cold fresh air, Owen blocked the way, standing up with his hands on his hips furiously staring at her.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Amelia looked up and met her husband’s angry, cold eyes. Owen was a tall, broad shouldered man, but when he was mad, he looked twice as big, engulfing her with his presence like a predator about to surround a prey. His voice sounded controlled but Amelia could distinguish the tone of contained rage it had.

“There was a baby inside there and…”

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Owen interrupted her, taking one step forward as he grabbed her arm with his hand at the same time he forced eye contact with her. Amelia noticed how his crystal blue eyes, usually so serene and calm were now sparkling with fury. “Have you lost your mind?”

Amelia dodged his contact irritably, taking one step back to get away from his reach. She wasn’t sure who was talking to her at that moment: her husband, her boss or an army official. She supposed an unpleasant mix of both.

“I did what I had to do!” She snapped back, feeling angry at his exaggerated reaction. “Owen, there was a baby inside that elevator and if I hadn’t gone in there, she would probably be dead by now,” Amelia reasoned, trying to make him see it through her eyes.

As scary as it had been, the minute she’d heard the little girl crying, Amelia had stopped thinking completely. Realizing the gap between the elevator doors and the floor were too small to let one of the firefighters in, she had called one of them to help her out and before the guy could stop her, Amelia had slid inside through the gap, quickly finding the baby.

The little girl was trapped in the seat belt of her stroller, with her chest and hips angled in a dangerous position. There was no adult in sight and Amelia wondered what the hell had happened to justify a baby being alone in an elevator but before she could gather her thoughts together, her skilled hands were already working their way to unbuckle the child without compromising the integrity of the baby’s spine.

“A building has collapsed, you could have died!” Owen complained, unable to deal with her apparent serenity.

“It wouldn’t have fallen if my foot didn’t get stuck,” Amelia argued, as if it was obvious. “Besides, I saved a kid’s life!” She yelled, seeing Owen running his fingers through his hair in clear frustration. “You have no reason to be mad at me!”

“Are you okay?” He ignored her completely, taking two steps in her direction at the same time he held her face between his hands, carefully scanning her body for bruises. “Did you get hurt?”

“I’m fine!” Amelia pulled apart aggressively, too mad at him to care about it. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?  I can’t believe you’re making a thunderstorm out of this.”

When Owen looked up to meet her eyes, it was clear in his expression that he wasn’t the least bit touched by her words.

“We’ll talk more at home,” His voice once again sounded calm, but his tone was slightly alarming, as if reprimanding a clueless child.

Amelia opened her mouth to reply in outrage when, without another word, Owen turned his back to her and took large strides towards the team of doctors.

.

Amelia didn’t hear much from him on the way back to the hospital. Riggs, Avery and Wilson went on ambulances but she took the hospital car back with her husband and Deluca.

The intern seemed particularly uncomfortable with the utter silence during the entire trip back. The only time one of them spoke was when Owen gave directions to the driver. As soon as they arrived at their destination, the trauma surgeon left the car, shutting the door with more force than necessary.

Amelia noticed the inquiring look Deluca gave to her but she ignored him completely. It was driving her insane that Owen was actually mad. Minutes after he left her talking by herself, a woman in her mid thirties came running in her direction, thanking her for saving her daughter’s life. According to the woman, her babysitter had just been getting into the elevator with her daughter when the explosion hit. Unfortunately, the babysitter had been severely hurt, being quickly brought to the hospital when they found her by the corridor. The stroller had turned around, protecting the baby from the blast, but also preventing anyone from finding her.

If Amelia hadn’t heard the weak cries, it was very possible that the child would have been dead when they did find her. What she’d done had been a great, brave thing, even if it was considerably dangerous. Amelia refused to let her husband’s sour mood eclipse the fact that the baby was now safe, which, in her head, was all that mattered.

.

Amelia went home alone that evening because Owen had to stay back with a pile of paperwork to fill. It was past ten in the evening when she heard the sound of his footsteps entering the bedroom. She had mentally prepared herself for another battle. Owen had authoritatively said they’d talk more at home and never for a second had she doubted it meant he would finish ranting at her in the privacy of their house.

To her uttermost surprise, Owen walked in the bedroom and simply ignored her, stopping only to get clean pajama pants and a shirt before getting into the bathroom. Amelia frowned heavily but decided to stay in the comfort of the bed, trying to keep busy with some reading but she was far too distracted.

Telling herself she wasn’t anxious, which was a big fat lie, Amelia patiently waited for her husband to return to their room. She had seen Owen angry a few times before, and he had even been nasty and rude with her in one or two occasions, but she didn’t remember a time when he’d been this mad at her. And Amelia honestly couldn’t tell which was worst, having her husband shouting angry words or being icily glared at while he didn’t say a word.

Even though Owen was very intimidating when he was mad, Amelia did her absolute best to be the most insubordinate as possible. Her husband was very bossy and he could easily incorporate his typical army general attitude, which absolutely set her off. And despite deep down knowing he would never do anything such as physically hurt her, Amelia couldn’t help feeling alarmed by his powerful figure.

Owen interrupted her thoughts when he entered the room, visibly being just out of the shower. His hair still had droplets of water but he looked the total opposite of relaxed. His jaw was fiercely clenched and a heavy frown was lurking in his forehead as he breathed out through his nose, visibly struggling to contain himself.

“Oh, for God’s sake, just say it already,” Amelia lost her patience, seeing he was fuming with anger.

“I can’t believe you actually think you have any excuse in this situation,” Owen seriously replied, looking at her with disbelief. “You literally crawled inside the elevator of a collapsed building, risking your freaking life and you actually think you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Owen, I…”

“No!” He interrupted his wife, furiously looking at her while he pulled the covers on his side of the bed. “Do you have any idea what was going on in my mind when I found out you were inside that elevator?” Owen asked, giving up trying to contain his anger. Amelia noticed the vein pulsating on his temple at the same time his face was flushed red with rage. “Did you stop for a second to think that you could have killed yourself? That I could have been there to witness it?” He angrily hissed, too mad to let her talk. “Do you have any idea how I felt when I thought that ceiling had collapsed with you still inside that elevator?”

Amelia looked up to meet her husband’s gaze and for the first time, she saw beyond the anger. Owen’s eyes were scintillating with fury, but there was a distinguished shadow of concern and genuine worry. Amelia couldn’t explain why, but at that moment, she was deeply touched and in a matter of seconds, most of her anger was gone.

“I didn’t think, I’m sorry,” Amelia humbly admitted, now fully understanding why he was being so unreasonable about the situation.

Owen frowned harder, completely surprised by her honest apology. He expected Amelia to stubbornly insist she’d done nothing wrong while he spent all night trying to make her see why she couldn’t act as impulsively as she had.

“You are?” He swallowed hard, wondering if she was setting him up.

“I can’t imagine how worried you felt when you saw me there, so yeah, I’m sorry,” She sheepishly added, breaking eye contact with him out of embarrassment.

“Well…” Owen seemed lost for words. “Thank you,” He nodded once with his head, still looking too serious and too grumpy to inspire sympathy in his wife.

Devotion and care weren’t things Amelia was very used to and realization hit her too intensely, turning her feelings into a giant mess. At the same time Amelia was too proud to say another word, she was also mortified by his concern. As far as she could tell, no one in her life had ever loved her enough to stand up to her like that, not giving in to her argumentative manipulation and emotional blackmailing. The things Owen made her feel were far too new but somehow, Amelia felt like they were painfully familiar, as if she’d been lacking them all along. It was all too overwhelming and afraid she’d break down, the neurosurgeon turned around in bed, hugging her pillows like a child seeking comfort in a security blanket.

Not too long after, Amelia felt Owen gently lying down next to her, even though they weren’t touching. It felt weird to lie down on the same bed as someone without saying a word. Amelia wondered if that happened often in most marriages. Long minutes of silence followed, in which Amelia stay immersed in her own thoughts, trying to decipher the feelings that had suddenly assaulted her.

With his anger, Owen had made her feel patronized, but his worry and care had driven her to feel strangely important. The way he’d imposed himself, at times not giving her the chance to talk, had very much made it seem like he was lecturing her. Amelia knew indifference and neglect, but she had never been so familiar with such generous concern before, to the point of rejecting it at first, just to test if it was really real.

“I’ve heard the baby is fine and was brought to the PICU,” Owen’s voice broke the silence, as he patiently informed her.

Even though she had her back turned to him, Amelia could tell he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling with his fingers intertwined above his abdomen.

“Yes, I’ve heard,” She sheepishly agreed, unsure of what to say.

It was rare for the two of them to feel so awkward around each other and that heavy atmosphere was startling Amelia. She had no idea what else to say, but she couldn’t bear that silence any longer.

“She’s going to make it,” Owen’s voice surprised Amelia at the same time she was thinking of what to say.

“I’m glad she is,” Amelia replied, reaching her limit. Slowly, she turned around, searching for his eyes.

She found Owen in the exact position she imagined him to be. He twitched his lips restlessly, obviously feeling just as awkward as she was. The image of his obvious discomfort suddenly felt too hilarious and Amelia had to remind herself why they’d been fighting in the first place.

“What?” Owen asked with corner smile, contaminated by the mirth on her face.

“Nothing,” Amelia lied, unable to hold her laughter any longer. “It’s just that you really suck at small talk.”

Owen’s facial expression softened as he couldn’t help cracking up at her playful offense. Rolling his eyes in defeat, he took a deep breath, still smiling at his wife.

“I thought I’d lose you today,” He explained when her laughter had subsided. “I can’t, Amelia, I…” He struggled with his words, having a hard time explaining his feelings. “Just please don’t ever do something like that, again, okay?”

Amelia nodded with a sympathetic smile, touched by the progress of his attitude. After carefully thinking and rationally analyzing the situation, she admitted she really had acted on an impulse and that could have cost her life. Amelia could have simply notified the firefighters and asked for help but she had instinctively jumped inside the wreckage and if Owen had done something similar, she now realized it would deeply worry her too.

“Okay,” Amelia smiled, void of any residual anger. Slowly, she moved in his direction, wrapping an arm around his chest.

Owen welcomed her in his embrace, idly stroking his wife’s back as he finally relaxed enough to fall asleep.

“You drive me crazy sometimes, you know?” Owen let out a heavy sigh, looking at his wife with a conformed smile on his face. The adorable look on her face as she showed off her dimples already said it all.

“Yeah, I know.”

.

“What?”Amelia asked in frustration. It had been exactly one week since Owen had interrupted the Tuesday morning Neurosurgery clinical session and she could not believe her eyes when she saw her husband once again walking in there to summon her.

Owen smiled at her disbelief and discreetly led her to one corner, so the session could go on at the same time he talked to her.

“We’re not going to the field again today, are we?” Amelia widened her eyes in shock, wondering what was so important that Owen had to come for her again. “I’ll send Nelson this time,” She threatened.

“Don’t be silly,” Owen replied with an amused smile and explained. “Not sure if you know this but your brother once removed a neurofibroma from Webber’s optic nerve. He says he woke up this morning with a blurry vision but now he feels fine.” The trauma surgeon explained, trying to keep the information private. “Anyway, I saw his scans and it all looks clear but he is insisting that you go take a look at them as soon as possible. Catherine Avery is on his back about it and there might be a domestic incident soon if you don’t come,” Owen added, knowing the chief was probably overreacting.

Amelia processed the information, her mind already racing with other possible causes for the former chief’s symptom but she did as asked and followed her husband to the corridor.

“So…” Owen kept his hands inside his white coat pockets as he gently nudged his wife’s delicate shoulders with his own. “Would you really send out Nelson this time if it was a field call?” He asked with a teasing shine on his eyes. “Babe, you have to stop bullying him…”

“What?” Amelia asked with fake outrage. “I’m the most supportive of all! I’m actually the only one that talks to him in the entire department.”

“Does he talk back?” Owen raised both eyebrows at her, seeing that the answer was no in her eyes and proving his point. “He is afraid of you.”

“You’re crazy,” Amelia rolled her eyes, disregarding his opinion.

“He is intimidated,” Owen affirmed, with conviction. “He is not used to women talking to him, let alone a woman like you. Leave the poor guy alone,” He added with good humor. “And I doubt you’d send him if there was a next time.”

“Of course not,” Amelia pretended to be serious. “I couldn’t risk it.” As she realized Owen was confused to the meaning of her words, she carried on with her act. “I have to confess something, babe, and it’s gonna hurt,” She hid her smile by leaning forward to press the elevator button. “Jim Nelson and I have been having an affair right under your nose all this time.”

“Oh, really?” Owen scoffed, caught off guard by her joke.

“Yes,” Amelia said with fake indifference, trying her hardest not to laugh at Owen’s facial expression. “What can I say? I dig a hairy guy.”

That was all it took for Owen to give in to laughter and playfully pinch her waist before they exited the elevator towards the ER.

“I don’t even know what’s worse,” Owen confessed mirthfully. “Sending you to another field mission or having to picture you and Nelson together in my head.” He scowled, visibly disgusted by the idea.

“Well,” Amelia playfully said, dodging his reach right before she opened the door to the exam room where Webber was at. “Then I suggest you avoid the fifth floor on call room on Tuesday mornings.”

Owen laughed and shook his head in denial. Every day, his wife proved to be a box of surprises more and more. She was impulsive, didn’t analyze risks properly and had a serious problem with authority. But he could see beyond that and admired her kind heart, her generosity and freedom of spirit.

Amelia did drive him crazy sometimes but she also made him laugh like no one else ever had. Living with ease and spontaneity was something Amelia had introduced him to. He couldn’t imagine what life without her felt like anymore.

And luckily for Owen, he would never have to find out.

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