This Is So Beautiful! I'm Super Shy Even Around Friends, So I Loved Reading This!❤❤❤

Love this!! I'm more of a quiet, grumpy person myself, so this was great reading. ❤️❤️❤️

how it could grow

thank you for voting in this poll! here we have grumpy!reader and sunshine!rooster going to the farmer's market | fluff, 1.7k

It's early.

Bradley gets up early and probably will forever. You've always considered yourself able to get up in the morning, but he's so...cheery. So damn chipper.

Being up early on a Saturday means the local farmer's market. It's so early that it's not even close to crowded, so you and your boyfriend stroll down the rolls of stalls, checking your combined list as you to to make sure you hit the right vendors.

Bradley waves at many of them, dragging you over to get some pickles and compliment Carlota's hat, to the bee farm stand to ask Steve about new candle scents, to get some iced tea and to hear about Lu's new puppy.

"This is delicious, Lu," he says. "What do you think, babe?" He nudges your shoulder with his.

He's not teasing you, not really, but he is trying to make you talk. You're usually very content to let Bradley be the talker, the friendly face. He's like the sun and for a long time you had no idea what he was doing spending his time with you. You're quieter, rougher around the edges. But he's practically drilled it into you by this point: he loves you. So you let him prod you a little because you do like these people and they always have a smile and kind word for you, even if Bradley does all the chatting.

"It's lovely," you tell the vendor, and mean it. It's no surprise Bradley knows him and his dog's name and everything about the business. He beams at you.

"Thank you!" he says. "Bradley's told me you're particular about your tea. Here, you take some of this new blend to try and let me know next week what you think."

So ensues a small battle over paying that ends with Bradley convincing Lu to come to the Hard Deck for a free drink this weekend in exchange for your sample blend.

"That was nice of him," you mumble, tucking into Bradley's side. He holds the iced tea you're sharing between you so you can take sips from the straw, his other arm slung over your shoulder.

"You're his favorite customer," he says. You look at him. Yeah, right, you say with your eyebrows. Seriously, his say back. You roll your eyes.

"I think that's you."

He winks. "Alright, beautiful." You scowl but he ignores it. "I think it's time to divide and conquer. You take fruits, I'll take veggies? And then we can hit the bakery on the way home and eat on the porch."

"Okay," you tell him. He gives you the rest of the tea and you tilt your cheek up. Bradley recognizes what you're asking for immedietly, surging forward to press his lips to your cheek tenderly.

"I'll find you," he says, and heads to the farm stand, whistling as he goes.

You head to the fruit stand. Bradley asked for strawberries, so you'll get some of those. And some apples for snacking on and blackberries, if she has them. When you get there, there's a small child and her mother in front of you. The little girl looks at you and you crack a smile at her and wiggle your fingers in hello. She giggles before burying her face in her mother's leg.

Yeah, okay, so a few things can crack your exterior. Your cheery, handsome aviator boyfriend and cute kids. And dogs, obviously.

The mom and kid leave and it's your turn. "Hi, honey!" the vendor says.

"Hi, Thalia," you say. Bradley comes here almost every week and when you tag along you love to visit this woman especially and her colorful piles of fruit.

"What's it for you today?" she says. Before you can answer, she holds up her hand. "Wait, I forgot!" She bends down under her stall table and reemerges with the most perfect carton of raspberries you've ever seen. You gasp softly. This is the first time she's had them all summer.

"Those are gorgeous," you say. She grins.

"That tall boyfriend of yours came by last week and I didn't have any yet." She chuckles at the memory. "He looked downright heartbroken and asked me to save some for you special once I picked 'em. So here we are! First and only carton before we bring a full load next week."

You gently take the berries from her and find that words won't come. "Oh," you say softly, looking down at them in your hands. "Thank you."

"Not a problem, dear," Thalia says softly. "Anything else for you?" You snap out of it and smile at her, rattling off your list. She bags up your things into your tote after you pay and you carry them over your shoulder while cradling the carton in your hands like precious cargo. Because it is.

The market is a little more crowded as you scan the veg stalls for Bradley. He does things like this -- the berries -- all the time, really. He looks out for you, makes sure your water bottle has ice in it, buys you more shampoo when he notices you're low, resets the car seat when he knows you'll be driving. You know that he likes taking care of you, that it makes him feel useful and like he's loving you properly, but you wonder if maybe you don't show him the same courtesy.

You know you can be sullen, you can be quiet, you can be prickly. It's not proved too much for him thus far and you're sure it won't drive him away, but you worry that he just doesn't know that he deserves to be loved with the same care and concern that he loves you. He deserves someone who makes sure he has the very first carton of the season of his favorite fruit.

You spot him standing by the kombucha stand and admire him as you walk over, tossing out the empty iced tea cup as you go. Highlighted hair, golden skin, tote bag of veg over his broad shoulders. He's so beautiful and he's yours. You love him, you really do. Right before you call his name he looks up and finds you, almost as if he felt you coming. He breaks into a smile so genuine you can't help but return it.

"Hi, gorgeous," he says, loudly. Beautiful, gorgeous. Bradley is always calling you something that makes your cheeks heat and your stomach swoop. You duck your head and step close to him. "Oh, hell yeah, the raspberries! Are they alright?"

"They're perfect," you tell him. You're perfect. "Thank you."

"Good," he says, like you being pleased by some raspberries is the best thing he's heard today. "Ready for breakfast?" You nod and he grabs your free hand and you head out of the market and down the street.

"Bradley," you say quietly, once you're clear of the stands. It's your serious tone and he picks up on it right away, giving your hand a squeeze.

"You okay?"

You hum. You are, but you need to get this out. "It was really nice of you to ask Thalia for these," you say, looking at your raspberries. "And I...I feel like I don't do things for you like that. And I wanted to say I'm sorry and that I'm going to try to do more because --"

"Woah, woah, woah," Bradley says, tugging you to a stop and making sure you're facing each other. "What's all this?" His brows are creased in concern, the furrow between them annoyingly adorable.

You take a deep breath and keep your eyes on his, determined. You want to be sure he hears this because you mean it.

"I know that I'm...prickly. And you're like the sun, Bradley." He looks like he wants to say something but you keep going before he can interrupt. "And you do nice things for me all the time and I know it's because you love me but also because it's just how you love, and because you're good. And I just want to do more to make sure you know that I love you and that you deserve to be treated like you're...like you're the best person in the world because you are."

His eyes get wider and wider as you speak, his lips parting. Yeah, maybe this is a little intense for like, 8:30 in the morning, but you two are honest with each other. It's how you got this far.

"Sweetheart," he says. "Baby, god, I--" He cups your face with one hand, eyes darting back and forth between yours. "But you do."

It's your turn to furrow your brows. What does he mean?

"You iron my uniform and you make sure I get dinner with Maverick every few weeks and you put gas in the Bronco and you stay up late to call me when I'm halfway across the world and you never let me forget my watch and you tell me you love me and that I'm brave and..." Bradley trails off and his thumb gently strokes your cheek. He starts again, quieter this time. "You're quiet in the mornings but you don't mind when I whistle and you're grumpy when it's too hot but you go outside with me anyway and you let me do the talking because I can't shut up and you only smile when you mean it and you're you. You do love me like that. You do."

Good god, you're blinking away tears at his words. "Okay," you say. "I guess we...I guess we love each other alright." Maybe it's just hard to see yourself the way he sees you. Maybe he finds it hard to see himself the way you see him. Maybe this is just how it is -- you have to remind each other you're doing your best.

Bradley leans in and presses his lips to your forehead. "You fucking bet we do," he whispers.

"Don't crush my berries," you say, eyes fluttering closed. He shifts and you feel his breath on your lips.

"I'd never."

And then he kisses you on the empty boardwalk on another gorgeous morning in your lovely, wonderful life.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here! (also did anyone catch the easter egg in this fic :))

what abled ppl think is a massive problem for disabled folks: 13 year old on the internet faking something

what is actually a massive problem for disabled folks: "well you don't LOOK disabled, are you sure you're not faking? I'm not giving you accommodations until you PROVE you're not faking. Please give me, a stranger, your medical info and explain your condition to me in detail so I know you're not faking and only then will I respect or take you seriously"

OC Summaries

OC Summaries:

Spoilers up ahead

Mergil:

Personality type: ISTJ-T

Age: 19

Oldest adoptive son of Boromir.

He is fairly stern and grumpy on the outside, and is difficult to get to know

But the effort's worth it once you do get to know him, because he's an extremely loyal friend, and is really a big softie at heart

He is fiercely and protective of those he loves, and completely unafraid to get physical whenever he needs to

Mardil :

Personality type: INFP-T

Age: 17

Younger adoptive son of Boromir

He is shy, and very gentle, but can be very stubborn, and is extremely loyal

He shows his caring, compassionate side more than most boys, but he can be very stern when he needs to be

Although he's a little more reluctant to get physical, he will if he feels the situation calls for it

Cirion:

Personality type: ESTP-A

Adoptive son of Faramir

Age: 18

He has a reputation as a prankster and comedian, but will never, ever make jokes at someone's expense

He is very loving and affectionate, although it takes a while for him to show that side of himself

Like his cousins, he is very loyal and protective of those he loves, and can get very angry when someone he loves is hurt

Seb Ferguson-Daniels:

Personality type: INTJ-T

Age: 17

Nephew of Ben Daniels, twin brother of Archie

He is pretty artsy, and is good at drawing

He can be a bit goofy at times, but he is more serious than his brother Archie

He also likes country dancing, and is surprisingly good at it.

Archie Ferguson-Daniels

Personality type: ESFP-A

Age: 17

Nephew of Ben Daniels, twin brother of Seb

He is a lot goofier than his brother, and is good at music

He especially likes country music, and will happily play guitar for hours if left to himself

He is clumsier than his brother, but still enjoys country dancing, even if he is forever going the wrong way.

Both he and his brother are very protective of those they love, and are completely unafraid to get physical, even though neither are particularly strong, and will often end up getting the worst of the fight

Macie Ferguson-Daniels:

Sister of Seb and Archie

Age: 16

Personality type: INFP-T

She is very shy, but is slowly growing in confidence

She loves acting and singing, especially musical theatre

She is very supportive of her brothers, and very protective of them, despite being the youngest

She is very gentle, but if you make her angry - beware!

The twins have had to physically hold her back on several occasions

Corporal James Ashwood

He is in Colonel Forster’s regiment, and is a good friend of Denny’s. He is an amiable enough boy, but does not like to dance, and can often be seen playing cards instead. He also likes to play cricket and football, and is one of the best in the regiment. He is also very protective of any young lady he meets, even if he does not particularly like them, and he dislikes Wickham’s smooth ways and happy manners intensely, and does not trust him.

Maybe We Can Be Friends

My first fic! Not requested, but I thought it was a nice idea for a story, so here you go.

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Autistic!Fem!Shy!Reader

5.56K words

Warnings: A bit of angst, lots of fluff at the end, soft Jake, Penny being an awesome best friend, sensory overload and consequent meltdown, mentions of autism, mild cursing, mentions of a failed relationship, Naval inaccuracies, mentions of vomiting, mentions of alcohol, spoilers for Top Gun Maverick

Summary: You hate the cocky, blond pilot that’s always at The Hard Deck. He rubs you up the wrong way, distracts you while you’re trying to work, and generally makes a nuisance of himself. But things start to change very quickly after you find out a surprising truth about him. (Not quite enemies to lovers, more enemies to cordial friends (potentially lovers in the future).)

(A/N: Sorry, I'm bad at writing summaries)

It’s been a long day. Not in a bad way; you like university, and you like studying something that you actually enjoy, but your hyper-social classmates’ party culture does get a bit much sometimes.

At least you won’t be at any party tonight, though. You have a shift at The Hard Deck every night, which keeps you away from the noise in your apartment while the party rages on.

“Hey, Y/N!” calls Penny, as you enter. “How was college?”

You half-smile. “Okay, I guess. Lost my focus during a lecture, but fortunately I recorded it on my phone, so I don’t think I’m likely to fail the end-of-week test.”

Penny smiles. “That’s good.” As you follow her behind the counter, she adds, “We’ve got a new set of Navy pilots tonight.”

“How long are they staying?” you ask.

“A couple weeks, maybe a month.”

“The standard,” you clarify.

“That’s right.” Penny hands you a sponge. “Could you wash those glasses for me, hun? I was pretty busy today, and I didn’t get time to get everything ready before you arrived.”

“Oh, er, sure.” You start washing while Penny checks the drink dispensers to make sure they’re working.

There aren’t that many glasses to clean, and you’ve got them cleaned and dried in less than ten minutes. Stacking them into two piles, and picking up one pile in each hand, you put them away below the counter.

Once you’re done, Penny sets a glass of Coke in front of you. “Here you go.” She laughs at your surprised face. “I had to make sure it was working, you know.”

“So this is a test drink?”

“Yup.” Penny checks that you have enough canned drinks to last the evening. “You don’t have to pay for that one.”

You chuckle, turning your attention to the door. Ever since Penny had learned about your caffeine addiction (brought on by too much late-night studying), she always made sure you had enough Coke to last you through the evening, and she never let you pay for it.

Glancing up at the clock, Penny hurries over to the front of the bar. “It’s five, which means we are officially open,” says Penny, flipping over the open/closed sign in the front window.

Fortunately, the earlier hour or so isn’t too busy, which gives the caffeine plenty of time to kick in, so by the time the new set of Navy pilots arrive, you’re buzzing.

Glancing over, you notice Penny deep in conversation with a dark older guy, who she seems to know from somewhere. You know you can easily hold the fort while buzzing with your own brand of liquid courage, so you let her keep chatting.

You’ve been working at The Hard Deck for a few weeks now, and while being a bartender isn’t your go-to job, it works for now, especially as Penny has no tolerance for anyone disrespecting women.

Behind you, you hear a bell ringing, and you turn to see that the unfortunate who has to pay for tonight’s drinks - is none other than the guy Penny was just talking to.

You give her a questioning look as she joins you, but she doesn’t look upset. In fact, there’s a playful, teasing light in her eyes that you’ve never noticed before.

“Do you know him?” you ask.

“Later,” she replies.

“Penny, m’dear!” calls a voice. You turn to see a blond pilot, with what looks like a perpetual smirk. ‘Seresin’, his name tag reads.

Penny’s busy elsewhere, so you go over to him. “Yeah?”

“Or you’ll do just as well.” He smirks at you. “I’ll have four more on the old-timer.”

You try not to snort at his cheek. “Sure.” Handing him the beers, you turn to see if there’s anyone else you can serve.

“Haven’t seen you before,” remarks Seresin. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here?”

“That’s none of your business,” you say, your voice a little sharper than you intended.

“Oho, she’s a feisty one!” chuckles Seresin. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you ask.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Fortunately, the arrival of another pilot distracts Seresin before he can annoy you further. Sighing, you get yourself another drink of Coke. It looks like a long night.

“You okay?” asks Penny, going over to the card reader.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Just one annoying guy.”

“Did he do anything?”

You shake your head. “He was just cocky and annoying. Rubbed me up the wrong way. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.” Penny taps the card she’s holding. Declined.

You giggle. “Is that his card? The guy who’s buying a round?”

Penny laughs. “Yep. Unless he’s got cash, he’s getting thrown out.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, you hear the yell go up.

“Overboard! Overboard!”

You don’t join in, but you do watch with amusement as the guy’s carried outside and thrown onto the sand.

Your amusement fades, however, when Seresin (who was one of the guys taking part) winks at you as he goes past the counter. You know that a wink is nothing compared to what he could have done, but it does annoy you enough for you to chug yet another Coke.

Fortunately, he doesn’t stay too long afterwards, and the rest of the night is uneventful.

*****************************************************

You wake up feeling sick. Really sick. Sick as in, you’re going to throw up.

The minute you feel the bile rise in your throat, you jump out of bed, sprinting to the bathroom - and arrive just in time as your guts begin emptying themselves into the toilet.

Once you’ve finished throwing up, you flush the toilet, leaning back against the wall. Must’ve drank too much Coke last night, you think.

Normally, you’re pretty careful about what you eat from a food safety point of view, so you don’t think it’s food poisoning. Just in case, though, you call in sick at uni, and decide to spend the rest of the day at home.

Once you’ve called your uni, you realise you should probably call Penny, and let her know you won’t be at the bar tonight.

So, you dial her number, and wait for her to answer.

It doesn’t take long before you hear her cheery voice on the other end. “Hi, Y/N. You’re calling early. Is everything okay?”

Help, you think. You hate talking on the phone, but you don’t want to text in case she doesn’t see it in time. “Uh, hi, Penny. Just, uh, letting you know I won’t be able to make it to the - um, the bar tonight.”

“Oh, no. Why? Are you okay?”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes at Penny’s genuine concern. “I, uh, threw up, like, a few minutes ago. I don’t know if it’s, um, food poisoning, but I thought it was better, to - er, stay off, you know? Just in case.”

“Yeah, that’s fine, hon. Jimmy and I can manage for a couple nights. You want me to come around and help you out?”

You bite your lip nervously. You do like spending time with Penny, but you really don’t want her to get sick - and you also feel too gross to have guests around. “Oh, no, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine, honestly.”

“You sure? If it’s because you’re worried about me getting sick…”

Your face burns. How does she know me so well? “It kind of is, yeah. And I also - I just - I’m kind of gross right now. I don’t want you to, you know, have to deal with my, um, grossness.”

You hear Penny chuckle on the other end. “Y/N, you’re forgetting that I’m a mom. I’ve seen it all, trust me. You won’t gross me out.”

“But what about you getting sick?”

“If I was worried about that, I wouldn’t have offered, hon.”

“Um…” You consider for a moment, still unsure. “Okay, you can come, if you want.”

“I’ll be there in a couple minutes. Hang in there!”

You sigh with relief as you hang up. You haven’t had a stomach bug in years, and so you never really thought to look up what to do. (Plus, the WiFi’s down again, because you accidentally kicked the router over last night, and you haven’t had a chance to fix it.)

This isn’t the first time Penny’s helped you out. As well as being colleagues, you and Penny are also friends. Best friends.

Penny was the one who’d sorted you out when you first arrived in town, got you set up with accommodation, a job, showed you where the local shops were, and working at The Hard Deck was one way that you could say thank you to her.

When Penny arrives, she takes one look at you, and orders you into bed.

“Penny, I was just going to-”

“Bed, Y/N, now. You need to rest if you’re not feeling well, okay? I’ll take care of everything else.”

You’re not really that sorry to be back in your nice warm bed, letting someone else fuss over you. Especially if it’s Penny. You’re not sure if it’s just the mother in her, or if she’s always been such a caring person, but she is a great nurse.

Once she’s got you tucked into bed, Penny says, “I’m going to make you some tea, okay? I’ll just add some sugar, no milk.”

“I don’t really know if I can handle sugar,” you reply.

“Even just tea will help settle your stomach. I’ll get you some soup when you’re feeling a bit better, okay? Stay there, and don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

You don’t want to move anyway. Your stomach hurts from the throwing up, and you feel weak and exhausted. Is this what it’s like to have a fever? you wonder.

When Penny comes back, she has the promised tea, and a thermometer. “Realised I should probably check your temperature first,” she explains, slipping the thermometer under your arm before you can reply.

“This is, like, the first time in ten years that this has happened,” you mutter.

Penny raises an eyebrow. “Being taken care of?”

“Having a stomach bug.”

“Right.” Penny takes a look at the thermometer. “Your temperature’s normal.”

“Seriously? I was convinced-”

Penny laughs. “Let me guess, you tried to take your own temperature with the back of your hand.”

“Maybe,” you mutter. “I guess my hand isn’t that good at detecting temperatures.”

Penny points to the forgotten cup. “Try to drink some tea.”

“It’ll burn my mouth if I drink it right now.”

Penny shakes her head. “I made it so that it was lukewarm. I figured you didn’t want a hot liquid going into your stomach when you’re feeling this fragile.”

“Oh. Right. Thanks.” You take a sip. The tea’s pretty watery and bland, but that’s good. You probably couldn’t handle anything stronger than weak tea right now anyway.

And it does work to settle your stomach. It takes a while, but your stomach does finally stop churning, and you can relax.

You spend most of the day curled up in bed, watching trashy Netflix movies, while Penny takes care of you, making sure you eat at least a couple spoonfuls of soup at regular intervals to keep your stomach settled.

By teatime, you’re feeling well enough that you tell Penny she can probably open the bar without needing to worry about you.

She looks sceptical at first. “Are you sure, sweetie? I don’t have to open the bar, I could just look after you.”

You shake your head. “It’s not fair for me to make you lose out on a night’s income, and obviously Jimmy won’t be able to manage singlehanded. The aviators will probably be looking forward to their drinks. I’ve been in bed all day; I’ll be fine for the night.”

“Okay,” says Penny, “but sleep on your side, and promise you’ll call me if you’re suddenly feeling worse.”

“Promise,” you reply. “Thanks for looking after me today.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” says Penny. “What are friends for?”

*****************************************************

“Hey, pretty girl!” calls a voice.

You groan inwardly as you recognise Seresin’s obnoxious timbre. “Need anything?”

He ignores your question, leaning forward to gaze into your eyes rather more deeply than you would have liked. “Missed you last night.”

“I didn’t miss you.” You were on your third glass of Coke, which had made you rather more blunt than usual. “Do you need anything?”

“Were you okay?” Seresin persists, but the smirk on his face gives you the impression that he doesn’t really care about your wellbeing.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh, come on. Do I have to?”

“Yes. There is a queue behind you, which you’re holding up, and I’m not answering your question until you answer mine. Now answer me or get out.”

Seresin’s smirk widens. “Jack and Coke.” As you hand him his drink, he adds, “Now where were you?”

“I was sick,” you say. “Sick in bed with a stomach bug. Now go away, you’re holding up the queue.”

“You were sick?” Was it your imagination, or did you catch a faint glimmer of concern?

Whatever it was, all it did was make you angrier. “Will you have the goodness to go away, or do I have to ring the bell?”

He puts his hand up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m moving. Geez, you ask one question…”

You sigh in exasperation as he moves away.  Idiot.

Penny, seeing your irritation, slips you another glass of Coke, which you drink gratefully. You have a feeling you're not going to sleep tonight.

*****************************************************

It's a few days later when you next meet up with Penny, this time at the beach.

“Mav's doing something with the pilots, and I thought you might just like some fresh air.”

You pause, but take her up on the offer. After all, you don't often go out for fun, and American beaches are quite nice.

So, after getting dressed, and cracking open your first can of Coke, you take a leisurely walk to the beach, taking your time, appreciating - well, everything, really. You have a friend in Penny, you're studying something you love, you live in a nice area…

You really are lucky.

Penny waves from one of the outdoor tables as you approach. “Hey, Y/N! How's it going?”

“It's going good,” you reply, sitting down opposite her. “What about you?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” smiles Penny.

You sit in silence for a few minutes, until you finally work up the courage to ask, “So, who is ‘Mav’?”

“His name's actually Captain Pete Mitchell, and his callsign is Maverick.”

“Are you friends or something?”

Penny smiles. “We go way back. I knew him before he was even in Top Gun. That was back in the ‘70s and early ‘80s. He joined in ‘86; we'd already broke off contact around ‘84.” She notices the question you're about to ask, and laughs. “And yes, we were dating. We've kind of had an on-again, off-again relationship.”

“Right,” you nod. Feeling like you should probably contribute to the conversation a bit more, you add, “I've never dated, but a guy that I liked went off with another girl and it - well, at the time, I thought it broke my heart, and so I thought, never again. But I am a bit more open to the idea now.”

“It must've been hard, though. I know it was for me, every time, even though he consistently broke my heart.”

“It wasn't as bad as it might have been, to be honest. I was just a kid at the time, so I kind of made it out to be this big deal when it really wasn't.” You smile. “And since I'm very happy being single, I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.”

Penny smiles. “That's good, that you've moved on. There'll be others, you know, and maybe you'll meet the one someday.”

You shrug. “I don't know if I do want to, you know. I think there's something to be said for being single.”

“Oh, there is,” agreed Penny.

“-and anyway, even if I did meet him…” You break off, your face burning, unsure of whether to continue.

“Wben if you did?” prompted Penny gently.

You pause for a moment before dropping your voice to a whisper. “I - I'm autistic - obviously you know that already. It's pretty hard for me to navigate even friendships and family, you know, so how much harder would it be navigating a romantic relationship?”

Penny reaches over to rest a hand on your arm. “It must be hard, feeling like that.”

You shrug. “It is. I just - I don't know… I just don't want to put the burden on someone else, of having to deal with my moods and not being able to go certain places. It's just - I feel like - I just don't think it would end well - for all parties involved. And it's not like I'm burning with passion, you know; like I said, I'm happy being single.”

You sit in silence for several minutes, but it's not awkward. Penny's a very kind and understanding lady, and she has this way of not making you feel judged, even though you've shared something that people can and do judge.

“How's your stomach feeling?” Penny asks suddenly.

“It's pretty much better,” you reply. “I'm still not sure what caused it, though. It can't have been the Coke, because I had loads the last time I was at the bar, and I didn't get sick. And I'm pretty careful about what I eat, from a food safety standpoint.”

“It was probably just one of those things,” says Penny.

“Yeah. One of life's mysteries.” You turn your attention to the ball game on the beach.

A load of shirtless men playing with a couple of American footballs. There was Seresin - darn him - a moustached guy you'd seen a couple times, a guy with glasses - the only one still wearing his shirt…

“Hangman's been giving you a hard time, isn't he?” says Penny suddenly.

“What? - Oh, yeah. D'you mean that blond smirking idiot?”

Penny chuckles. “You could call him that. One of the other pilots calls him Bagman.”

“Because he's a dirtbag?”

Penny laughs again. “He's annoying, that's for sure, but I don't know that I'd go that far, hon.”

“Didn't you see him holding up the queue on - when was it now? - Wednesday?”

“I noticed it was backing up a bit. What took him so long?”

“He apparently wanted to inquire about my health. As if I was going to tell him! I gave him several pieces of my mind, and then told him to pick a drink or get out.”

Penny laughed. “That might teach him a lesson, huh? Don’t mess with a heavily caffeinated Y/N!”

You laugh. “Yeah, that stuff is surprisingly potent. It's a good thing I never liked the taste of alcohol, or he might not have gone away with just a verbal thrashing!”

“And you'd have probably ended up in hospital!” added Penny. “But seriously, try not to let him get to you. I know it's pretty much impossible to ignore a guy like that, but if he does overstep a boundary, or annoy you too much, there's always the bell, you know.”

You half-smile. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Penny.”

Looking over, you notice that one of the guys has left the ball game.

“Looks like Mav's left the game,” remarks Penny. “Hey, Mav!” she calls. “Come over here!”

Turning in your direction, Mav grins, gets up, and goes over to you. “Hey, Penny. Who's your friend?”

“This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Mav.”

“That's Captain Mitchell!” protests Mav, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Um - yeah, hi,” you mutter, smiling shyly.

“You been in San Diego long?”

You consider. “Um, about a month, I think.”

“How long you known Penny? You two seem pretty close.”

“A couple years,” says Penny, but doesn't clarify further.

“Hey, Mav!” someone yells from the beach.

You turn to see who spoke, and - oh, of all the miserable luck!

It's that Seresin. Or Hangman, as Penny calls him. And you'd love to hang him right now. How much did he hear? you wonder.

“Oh, hey, it's pretty girl!” he says, coming over to you. “How you doin’, hon?

Go away. You glare at him, refusing to answer.

“Oho, that won't do, hon. I asked a question.” He crouches down to your level. “How's your stomach?”

“What?” You're so shocked at the audacity of his question that you forget to blank him.

“You mentioned you weren't well. A stomach bug.”

“Oh, that. Well, I was fine until now, and will - you - go - away?”

“C'mon, sweets. I came over here to be nice, and all I get in return is this?”

I don't think you could ever be nice, you think, even angrier than before because he's making your heart behave strangely. It's jumping about in quite a disconcerting fashion.

You shoot a pleading look at Penny, who, understanding your predicament at once, says, “Y/N and I were just going, actually. Goodbye.”

As you walk off, Penny gives your hand a sympathetic squeeze. “It's okay, Y/N. He didn't hear us.”

“I didn't think he did,” you mutter. “I just - he's so irritating! Pretending to care about my health when I know he couldn't give one, that stupid smile, his stupid good looks…”

“I think you're having a sugar crash, hon,” replies Penny. “You're never this moody.”

“I probably am,” you agree. “I wonder how long that set of pilots has before they leave.”

“Another few weeks, I think. D'you think you can hold out that long?”

You sigh. “Hopefully. So long as that Seresin stays away, our feud might remain bloodless.”

Penny chuckles. “A feud? He's been here, what? A week? You barely know him!”

“I don't really know what else to call it,” you admit.

Penny just smiles. “Come in and have some Coke, and we'll talk girl things to keep your mind off him.”

*****************************************************

Fortunately, after the little scene on the beach, Seresin keeps his distance. He still smirks at you whenever you catch his eye (or he catches yours), and you still find him annoying, but at least he doesn't directly interact with you.

His stupid smirking does distract you while you're trying to work, though. You've messed up more orders in the past few weeks than ever before, and the worst of it is, the more you see of him, the more he grows on you.

It's just because of his good looks, you think at first. He is pretty handsome, although you'd never admit that to anyone, not even Penny.

You do think it's a shame that he's so annoying, though, because he seems like he's got the potential to be nice and friendly. You've seen how he interacts with the likes of Coyote, and sure, he's got a big ego, but at the same time, he and Coyote do actually seem to have a friendship dynamic. 

The next big event that happens is an Admiral's funeral. You don't actually know the family, but Penny attends, so you figure she probably knows them from somewhere, although you don't ask.

It's sometime soon after the funeral when you next see Mav. You and Penny are working harder than usual at the bar, because it's Jimmy's night off.

It's when you notice her straighten up out of the corner of your eye that you realise Mav's there. He's wearing his dress whites, and looking more serious than when you met him at the beach.

“You go on, Pen,” you whisper. “I can take care of things until you get back.”

Penny looks sceptical. “You sure, Y/N?”

You nod. “I'm caffeinated enough to handle anything. A busy bar is no problem.”

Penny's only out for a few minutes, but she comes back looking pretty serious. You don't ask right then and there, but you do afterwards.

“Mav's been selected as the mission team leader,” explains Penny.

You don't fully understand Navy jargon, but you know enough to understand that this might be the last time Penny ever sees Mav.

You don't really know what to say, so you give her a hug instead. You're not really used to hugging, so it's a bit awkward, but Penny appreciates it, and tells you so.

“Do - do you want me to stay with you tomorrow?” you ask. “I could get the day off from uni…”

Penny shakes her head. “That's very sweet of you, but I'll be fine. You need to keep on top of your studies.”

“Okay,” you reply. “I - uh, guess I'll see you around?”

“Yeah, see you. And thank you.”

You turn in surprise. “Thank you?”

“For being so supportive. I know you don't find it easy helping people when they're - like this, but it does help. A lot.”

Although you're still not sure you helped, you do feel better that Penny, at least, thinks you did.

But once you're in bed at home, you're suddenly struck with the realisation that Seresin's going on this mission. What if he doesn't come back?

And even if he does, he's going to be transferred somewhere else soon.

And you don't like that thought. You don't like it one little bit.

*****************************************************

Today is going to be a bad day. That's your first thought when you realise you're all out of Coke. You'd meant to get some at the shop last night, but you'd been so emotionally drained from a long night at the bar plus helping Penny that you completely forgot.

And now you're running late. Too late to go and pick up some Coke at a convenience store.

You lose your focus during your first lesson, and get shouted at for not paying attention. You're so upset and rattled by this that you end up finding it difficult to focus for the rest of the day, leading to panic-studying during free periods…

It's just not your day.

You've been placing all your money on the hope that the bar will be quiet, at least until you've fully caffeinated yourself.

Unfortunately, you're late, and as you walk up to the bar, you notice that it's heaving even at this early hour. The bar’s just opened!

“Hey,” Penny greets you, but she seems a bit preoccupied. “Mav's lot stormed the bar before it was even open,”  she explains. “They wanted to celebrate the success of the mission. You can leave if it's too much for you. I won’t be mad.”

You shake your head. “No, I'll stay. I just need some caffeine and I'll be fine.”

Penny looks a bit sceptical. “If you're sure. The offer still stands. You leave at any time you need, no questions asked, I'll still pay you the full amount, and I won't be mad.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, wondering if maybe you should take her up on the offer right now, before any disasters happen.

But the stubborn part of you, the part that often makes your life more difficult than necessary overrules the others. I will not be set back by something so stupid. I will finish my shift like a normal person, and I will not have a meltdown.

But that's easier said than done. As the night rages on, and the bar gets busier and busier - where are all these people coming from? - you surely regret not backing out when you had the chance.

Sure, you still have the chance, but you'd feel bad about leaving Penny and Jimmy to deal with all these people.

It's okay, you tell yourself. These are just crowds, you've been in crowds before, you can handle this.

But no matter how hard you try to convince yourself, you know deep down that it's all a lie. You can't handle crowds well, you're not okay, you need out.

“Y/N?” It's Penny, looking worried. “Are you okay? Do you need to take a walk?”

You shake your head. “I'm fine.” It's a lie, of course. But you're determined to push through, to really earn your pay.

The last straw finally falls when you hear a glass smash, and a yell go up. Suddenly, everything becomes too much for you. The background noise becomes a deafening roar, the crowd seems to be trying to crush the air out of your lungs, the heat becomes intolerable, and you feel panic - no, terror - rising in your chest.

You grab Jimmy's arm in your panic. When he sees you're in sensory overload, he springs into action immediately, taking your arm, leading you out of the bar, and into the back room, before going to find Penny.

You sit there, curled up with your knees up to your chin, rocking back and forth, willing yourself not to cry.

“Hey, you okay?”

You jump at the sound of Seresin's unmistakable voice, your mind immediately beginning to race. No, no, no! Why did it have to be that Seresin?

“Go away,” you mumble, your voice cracking on the last word. You can feel the tears slipping down your cheeks. Not wanting Seresin to see you cry, you bury your face in your knees.

“Hey, what's wrong, hon? Why are you crying?”

You shake your head violently, burying your face further into your knees, hoping he'll take the hint and go away.

But instead, you feel his hand on your shoulder. “Was it something I said? Please, don't cry, hon. I didn't mean to upset you.”

His voice has a different quality to it now; it's soft, gentle, concerned. It's like he actually cares about you.

And that's why you look up, tears still streaming down your face, which intensify when you see the tender concern written all over Seresin's face.

He's kneeling beside you, watching you with suspiciously glassy eyes. “What happened, sweets? Did someone hurt you?”

You shake your head, trying to regain some semblance of control over yourself, eventually managing to choke out something about sensory overload.

Seresin's face softened. “Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. What can I do to help?”

You're so shocked by the question that you burst into a fresh load of tears.

“Oh, no, don't, please…” Seresin puts his hand on your shoulder, rubbing up and down your upper back, trying to soothe you.

It takes some time, but finally, you calm down enough to the point where you're only letting out a few hiccuping sobs at regular intervals.

“Better?” asks Seresin.

You nod slowly, still trying to grasp what's just happened.

“Anything else I can do?”

You pause, uncertain for a moment, feeling like your request sounds stupid. But when you look into his eyes, you see nothing but tender concern.

“C-can I - have a - a hug?” you ask tentatively.

Seresin nods, giving you a reassuring smile. “C'mere, sweets.”

You scooch closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you, and just hold you. A few tears trickle down your cheeks, and you sniffle a bit, but you're quiet for the most part, just enjoying the feeling of having someone else hold you.

“Y/N? Oh, sweetie, are you okay?”

You look up to see Penny standing over you, filled with worry.

“When Jimmy told me you'd had a sensory overload… Oh, honey, you've been crying. I'm so sorry, the bar's been so busy tonight, or I'd have come sooner.”

You're not really sure how to respond to her outburst, but you mutter something along the lines of, “It's fine…” Emboldened by the sound of your own voice, you add, “Seresin took care of me while you were gone.”

“I can see that,” replies Penny. “You okay now?”

You nod. “I'm not going to cry, if that's what you mean.”

“Hey, I could take you home, if you want,” says Seresin.

You bite your lip. “It's very kind of you, but…”

You glance nervously at Penny, who, understanding, takes up the sentence. “Her roommates like to party in the evening.”

“Some roommates,” mutters Seresin. “Y'know, I could take you anyplace that relaxes you, then take you to your apartment afterwards?”

“Um…” You glance at Penny again.

She smiles and nods. “It's okay; he's safe.”

So you turn back to Seresin with an, “Um, okay.”

He grins. “Great!”

As you make your way through the bar, Seresin keeps you close, with a protective arm around your shoulders.

The other pilots give you funny looks, but Seresin just waves them away, pulling you a little closer as he does so.

Once you're outside the bar, Seresin takes you to his truck. “So, where are we headed?”

You bite your lip, blushing. “Uh, I don't know…”

He smiles. “It's okay. We'll find somewhere to go.”

As you get into the truck, he suddenly adds, “Y'know, I never did catch your name.”

“Oh, er, it's Y/N L/N.”

“Nice name. Mine's Jake. Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman, but you can call me Jake.”

“Okay… Jake.” It feels weird calling him by his first name, but it's a nice kind of weird.

As he pulls away from the car park, you think about how strangely this day has turned out. It started off so terribly, but looks like it's going to end well.

Jake glances over, smiling at you. It's a kind smile, not his usual smirk, and his voice is gentler than usual when he says, “Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I like this shy side of you.”

You smile shyly. “This is how I normally am.”

“What about those times you yelled at me?”

“I drink a lot of caffeine. It makes me more assertive.”

Jake chuckles. “Right.”

As he drives, you relax back into your seat, wondering what changed about Jake to make him so nice all of a sudden. You've never seen this kind, caring side of him before, but you like it, and you hope very much that it will last.

*****************************************************

Part 2

As always, I do not give permission for anyone to copy my work, post it elsewhere, etc.

Some idiot: "Why are you reading your own fic, that's shallow and stupid"

All fanfic writers and writers everywhere: "Who the fuck do you think I wrote it for?!"

I loved your Unintentional fic I hope you do another part!!!!

Unintentional (Part 2)

Part 1

Pairing: Loki x Shy!Autistic!Fem!Reader

Summary: Loki tries to explain himself to you. Things don't go as either of you planned.

Warnings/tags: Soft Loki (probably OOC), angst, upset reader, minor character death (mentioned), mentions of mind control, mentions of delusions, mentions of alcohol, Frigga is a sweetheart, mentions of hospitals, implications of sensory overload, mentions of meltdowns, mentions of autism

A/N: I'm so sorry, this one isn't my best writing…

*************************************************

"L/N? L/N, can you hear me?"

Groaning softly, you open your eyes to see Romanoff sitting by your bed.

She breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness."

Thank goodness? What's she on about?

Then a wave of dread hits you.

Loki.

You were supposed to protect him if he got captured again.

And judging by the fact that Romanoff's sitting by your bed, that means he has been captured.

"Where is he?" you demand.

Romanoff looks confused. "Where's who?"

"Loki. Where is he?"

"Oh… Loki." Romanoff shrugs. "He's in a holding cell for the time being. Don't worry, we'll make him pay for what he did to you."

Make him pay? But he didn't hurt me! "I need to see him."

"L/N…"

There's a commotion outside the room, and Romanoff goes to investigate.

"What's going on?" she demands.

"Stark wants to see L/N," sighs someone. It sounds like Agent Hill.

Romanoff shrugs. "That's all?"

"The doctor said that she wasn't supposed to be excited or stressed out."

"Look, just send him in. The sooner we get this over with, the better."

"How about we send Cap in instead?" suggests another voice.

Dr Banner? What's he doing here?

"Hey, why does Cap get the special treatment around here?" someone else (presumably Stark) complains.

"Because he knows how to deal with people, and you don't," snaps Romanoff. "She's awake, Cap; you can go in."

"Thanks." A blond guy pokes his head around the door. "Am I okay to come in?"

You nod, and immediately regret it as a wave of pain washes over you.

The blond guy - presumably the aforementioned 'Cap' - sits in Romanoff's chair. "Look, I know this isn't going to be easy," he begins, his voice gentle. "But we need to know everything that happened to you after you were - captured."

"Captured?" Since when was I captured?

Cap leans forward. "L/N, I don't know what Loki said to you, or how he manipulated you into going with him, and I know it's going to be hard to hear, but - you were captured."

You take a deep breath. "Look, just - just tell me what happened - how you found Loki, what you did with him."

He sighs. "We don't know how Loki got hold of you, but we found him at Stark Tower, with you. You were in a pretty bad way. Do you have any idea how that happened?"

"The Destroyer gun."

"What?"

"It was a prototype weapon that Coulson fired at Loki. He took the brunt of the blast, cannoned into me, and we both went straight through a wall. That's why I was hurt."

Cap looks carefully at you. "No other reason?"

You shake your head. "Not that I can remember."

"What did you do afterwards?"

You pause. "I - my memory's not very clear. I…"

Cap waits as you pretend to try and recall what happened. You know full well what happened (how could you forget?), but you have no intention of telling the truth yet, at least until you've seen Loki, and agreed either to a plausible story, or to tell the truth.

"I'm sorry, I really don't remember," you say. "I suppose I was on autopilot. I probably just ran away, and then fainted or something. I did hit my head, so my memory's not very clear."

"That's okay," says Cap kindly. "So, just to recall, Agent Coulson fired this destroyer weapon at Loki, and you got caught in the crossfire. Is that what happened?"

"Yeah, but I was behind him - Loki, I mean. So it wasn't really the crossfire, as such. But you could call it that."

Cap nods. "That'll be all for now. Thank you for your time, L/N."

You're not really sure how to respond, so you just smile, and nod, trying hard not to wince as another wave of pain hits you.

You feel a bit guilty lying to him, because he does seem like he genuinely wants to help, but you really don't want to tell the truth until you've had the go-ahead from Loki, because whatever you say will impact him, whether positively or negatively - but most likely the latter.

You can hear hushed voices in the corridor, and even though it gives you a headache, you strain to try and hear what they're saying.

"…seemed quite lucid…"

"…fairly trustworthy…"

"…most valuable source…"

The voices fade away as you fall back asleep.

***************************************************

You're woken up by yet another commotion outside your room.

This one's louder, and sounds a lot more violent, so you strain to hear what's going on.

"…can't let him see her…"

"What if he…"

"…wants to see him…"

"…could kill us all…"

There's a knock at your door, and Romanoff pokes her head in.

"Hey, L/N, sorry to disturb you, but - Loki wants to see you. He - um, he threatened to break out of his cell and come see you by himself if we didn't let him…"

You try hard to suppress a smile. "That's fine. Him wanting to see me, I mean."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Romanoff doesn't look too impressed, but nods. "Okay. He'll be here in a minute."

You can hardly contain your relief at the fact that Loki's finally coming to see you. Or the delight that he wants to see you. It's been a few days since you first woke up, and you've asked about seeing Loki a couple of times, but the Avengers usually deflect, or (in the case of Stark) firmly say no.

The door opens, and Loki steps in, handcuffed, with Thor just behind him, presumably in case he should try anything.

Oh, darling… Loki's face is impassive, but you can see that his eyes are glassy. I was so worried.

You sigh. I'm sorry I didn't hold up my end of the bargain.

Loki shrugs. It matters not. I just want to make sure you're alright. Are you?

You bite your lip. I'm tired, achy, and I feel like I never want to move again.

Loki moves to sit down by your bed. How have they been treating you?

Surprisingly well. They all seem to think that you captured me, and tortured me, or something, and I've been too nervous to tell the truth, in case they think my brain's turned to mush or something.

They probably would. Loki sighs. I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you.

You smile shyly. You did your best. And you know, it's kind of ironic that the organisation that was supposed to protect me turned out being the one that injured me.

Loki's eyes darken. That fool Coulson. I wish I could make him pay for what he did, but he's already dead.

Dead?

He died of that stab wound I gave him.

So you kind of got preliminary revenge.

I was acting in self-defence, but I suppose you could look at it that way.

Your heart gives a guilty leap when you remember that Thor's right there. Can he hear us?

Loki shakes his head. Not under these circumstances, although he can sometimes read thoughts.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Good.

Loki turns to Thor, who's been staring at you like you're both crazy. "Do I really need these handcuffs?"

Thor glares at him. "Yes. And they're not coming off."

You glance at Loki. Are those Asgardian handcuffs?

Loki shakes his head. I think they're just hoping that Thor can overpower me, should I try to escape.

Kind of stupid, if you ask me. Then you get an idea. What if I try to convince Thor to take the handcuffs off you?

Loki shrugs. You can try.

Okay. You take a deep breath. Look, Thor-

Out loud, sweet.

You blush, take another deep breath, and begin again. "Thor - does Loki really need to be handcuffed? Couldn't he just break out of them anyway?"

Thor stares at you like you've gone crazy. "Lady L/N…"

Now that you're over the first hurdle, your confidence begins to grow. "Look, I don't know what he's told you, or if you've even interrogated him, but he didn't hurt me. You must believe me."

"Lady L/N, you were very badly hurt - you were unconscious - when we found you. You said yourself that your memory was hazy-"

"Well, I lied."

Thor stares at you in utter shock and disbelief.

Your heart's jumping about wildly, but you keep going. "I didn't want to say anything that would negatively impact Loki."

Now it's Loki's turn to stare at you. You did - you what? How - why…?

Taking a third deep breath, you continue. "Anything I said - the Avengers could have twisted it to make an excuse to torture him - to - oh, I don't know - double his sentence, give him a worse punishment…"

"Well-" Thor looks like he's desperately trying to collect his thoughts. "What actually happened?"

You glance nervously at Loki. Should I?

Loki nods, his face impassive. Go on.

So you tell Thor exactly what happened.

His face turns from shock, to disbelief, to something you can't quite place.

Finally, he turns to his brother. "Is this true?" he demands.

Loki nods.

Thor turns back to you. "Lady L/N - why would you keep this from us? We were trying to help you."

"But you weren't trying to help Loki. And - well…" You look helplessly at Loki.

Loki mumbles something.

"Speak up!" snaps Thor.

"She's my soulmate."

"Who?"

"Y/N. She's my soulmate. She could read my thoughts. That's why I was protecting her."

The air in the room suddenly shifts. Soulmate? What's he on about? That's why I could get into your head? Then why-

Thor grabs Loki's arm roughly enough to make him wince. "We're going. Now."

***************************************************

You suddenly fling your book aside, sighing in frustration.

It's been several weeks since Loki last visited you, and the Avengers have been acting really weird. You thought they'd be angry, but they've been weirdly nice. They seem to be under the impression that you were mind-controlled by Loki, which you know is ridiculous, since neither of you had even been near the Sceptre when you first decided to help him.

You haven't really recovered from your injuries yet, but you're well enough to get out of bed, which is a relief, because now you can hide from the Avengers if they take to whispering outside your door again.

"Hello."

You jump in fright when you hear Loki's voice.

"Oh - I'm terribly sorry, darling. I didn't mean to frighten you."

It's fine.

Loki smiles. "It's alright. I already soundproofed the room. We can talk freely here."

"Okay."

Loki goes to stand with his back to the fireplace. "I expect this is all very confusing for you, all this soulmate business. I'm sorry I had to tell you under those circumstances, sweet. If things had been different…"

You nod. "It's fine."

Loki sighs. "It still doesn't excuse my giving you such a nasty shock. You ended up relapsing, I heard?"

You shake your head. "They're exaggerating. My social battery died."

Loki frowns. "Your - social battery?"

"I was tired from socialising. It takes up a lot of my energy. And I was already tired from all those injuries."

Even though he tries to hide it, you can see him visibly relax. "Well - do you have any questions for me?"

Which one to ask first? "Why can you read my thoughts, but I can't read yours?"

"I can shield my thoughts - something I actually need to teach you."

You suddenly feel a hot wave of anger hit you. Wait… is he lying to me?

"Look," you begin, rather irritably. "Why are you being so nice to me? I know there's the soulmate thing, but you - you just don't seem like the sort of guy who's just going around calling pretty girls pet names, and being super patient with them. And I'm not even that pretty. What's going on?"

Loki opens his mouth to explain, but the look on your face shuts him up before he can speak, so he just watches you with a strangely sad look on his face.

Not that it matters to you. "You realise that I nearly helped you destroy New York, that I've managed to alienate the Avengers - who were genuinely trying to help me, and that I'm now on SHIELD's blacklist? All because I was trying to protect you!"

The pain in your muscles when you stand up nearly makes you fall, but you grit your teeth against the pain, ignoring Loki's outstretched hand. "I'm done. I'm sick of trying to protect someone against people who won't listen to me, because they think I'm delusional! If you want to explain yourself to me properly - then - well - just-"

Having run out of words, you simply storm out of the room, leaving a speechless Loki behind.

***************************************************

"I don't get it," you later complain to Dr Banner. "A few weeks earlier, I was trying to protect him, and now I'm storming off because I think he's lying to me?"

Banner shrugs. "You've got the wrong person. Talk to Thor."

"I know Asgardian relationships aren't your specialty-" you begin.

"Actually, I'm clueless."

"-but you're the only Avenger here who I haven't actually lied to."

"So you want me to talk to Thor."

You nod. "More or less."

"You do realise he's not mad at you?"

You shrug. "Well, maybe he isn't mad at me, but he's kind of - terrifying, to be honest."

"Who's terrifying?" asks Stark. "Oh, hey, Y/N. How's it going?"

You're more than a little weirded out by his sudden friendliness. Is it because I yelled at Loki? "Oh, uh, yeah - hi…"

"Stark, do you know where Thor is?" asks Banner.

Stark shrugs. "No idea. Probably the training room." As you turn to leave, he calls after you. "Oh, Y/N?"

You turn back. "Yeah?"

"It's Nat's birthday, so we're having a party. Do you want to come?"

In what world-? "Uh - yeah, sure."

***************************************************

Your mind is racing as you go to find the training room.

What was I thinking? I can't go to a party! I don't have anything to wear! I don't even know where it is!

Fortunately, the training room's now up ahead, and you hastily stop catastrophising in favour of trying to thing what questions you're going to ask Thor.

He's just finishing up his workout as you walk in, so you stay right near the wall, just in case.

He grins when he sees you. "Oh - Lady Y/N! What brings you here?"

"I - um - I have some questions for you." Why do I sound so businesslike?

"Is this about the soulmate situation?" asks Thor.

You nod. "I just - why do you guys make such a big deal out of it? On Earth, it's usually kind of a myth. Nobody really takes the idea too seriously - well, I certainly didn't. Not until now."

Thor shrugs. "I'm afraid I don't have much experience in this. I have sent for my mother - who I think will have more knowledge of this than I, so when she arrives, you could talk to her."

You manage a small smile. "Okay. Thanks, Thor."

***************************************************

This was a mistake.

You'd forgotten that Stark's parties are notoriously loud and boisterous. And that they're massive.

All of which is a very, very bad combination for you.

Fortunately, no-one's really noticed you, but the smell of alcohol is giving you a headache, the loud music is hurting your ears, and the crowd's beginning to feel suffocating - whether from actual lack of oxygen or sensory overload, you have no idea.

I have to get out before I have a meltdown.

You make your way to the exit, hoping that nobody notices you.

"Lady Y/N!"

Biting back curses, you turn around to see Thor waving at you.

"My mother has arrived! Shall I take you to her?"

You nod. Wonderful. Another social interaction.

But at least you can leave the party.

Thor's mother's face lights up when she sees you. "So, you are the Y/N that my sons have told us so much about," she says, with a smile. "It's lovely to meet you, dear. My name's Frigga."

"Uh - yeah… Nice to meet you too."

Once you're both settled, Frigga comes straight to the point. "I understand you have some questions on the soulmate situation."

You nod. "Why is it such a big deal with you guys?"

Frigga smiles. "Well, on Asgard, it's expected that you marry once you reach a certain age - what Midgardians would call your twenties, I believe. We have not the option of divorce, which means we must either find our soulmate, or make an eligible match with someone similar. Meeting your soulmate before then is very rare, and being soulmates with each other - that is even rarer."

"But how do you know if you're soulmates?"

"There are several stages. The first is being able to read each other's thoughts. Loki can read yours, I understand."

"But I can't read his. At least - he claims it's because he can shield his mind, but-"

Frigga sighs. "It is difficult to know whether my son tells the truth or not. He's always been one for mischief, and he is an excellent liar, but-" She sighs. "I have talked to him about this, and something about his manner leads me to believe that he is being truthful, but - he has deceived me before."

"What's the second stage?"

"The need to protect the other."

"Well, I certainly experienced that," you say. "And I think Loki might have?"

Frigga nods. "He did. And he still does, I believe."

"And the third stage?"

"The third stage depends on your soulmate's honesty. If your soulmate is generally dishonest, then you won't believe anything they say, even if they are telling the truth."

"Hang on." You hold up a hand. "Does that mean that my getting mad at Loki was because we're - soulmates?"

"Strange as it may seem, yes. But it won't last long. And the fourth stage is sharing your feelings with your soulmate."

"Like hyper-empathy?" you ask.

Frigga nods. "Yes, except that you feel your feelings as well as theirs."

Oh, no. You feel shivers run down your spine. "Is - is there any way to stop that from happening?"

"How do you mean?" asks Frigga.

You sigh. How to explain autism to an Asgardian? "I - I was just curious."

Frigga shakes her head. "No, you weren't. I know there's a reason."

You stare at the floor, fiddling with your hands. "Well, I - I already have hyper-empathy - it's not a special ability or anything, it's just the way my brain works - and…"

"You're worried your feelings might overwhelm you?" asks Frigga.

You nod.

Frigga smiles. "Don't worry, Y/N. The 'feeling each other's feelings' that I told you about - it's little more than just a twinge, an inkling of what the other is feeling. It's rarely overwhelming."

"And I think it's happening right now," you add.

Frigga leans forward. "What do you feel?"

"I just felt a twinge of disdain. Which I'm guessing is Loki, because he doesn't get along with Stark, and absolutely hates his parties. I guess Thor must have dragged him along."

She chuckles. "That does sound like Loki. He's never liked parties, or large gatherings of any kind. Perhaps we should go and rescue him."

***************************************************

As you both enter the party, you immediately spot Thor engaged in a drinking game with Captain America.

"I ought to have brought him some Asgardian mead to make it fair," laughs Frigga.

"Captain America's got some sort of super serum in him," you explain. "I think he might last longer than average, though I think Thor's going to win."

As you scan the room, you suddenly notice Loki in the back, looking very grumpy and out of it, but his face softens slightly when he sees you and Frigga.

"Hello, Mother," he says. "Hello, Y/N."

You manage a small smile. "Hi. Um, look-"

Loki shakes his head. "Outside." He offers you his arm. "May I?"

You're surprised, but take it, while Frigga takes his other arm.

As you walk out, Loki and Frigga talk about what you're guessing is Asgardian things. It's too loud for you to really catch anything specific.

It's nice walking with Loki, even if he isn't talking to you. He's surprisingly courteous, making sure to walk you and Frigga around the clean areas on the floor.

"Mother! Loki!" bellows Thor suddenly, making you jump. "Join me!"

Frigga, laughing, lets go of Loki's arm. "I will see you later, Loki and Y/N."

Loki smiles at his mother, before frowning at Thor, and then continuing towards the exit with you.

Once you're outside, Loki turns to you. "I'm terribly sorry about my oaf brother. Are you alright?"

You nod shyly. "I'm okay."

Loki nods. "That's good."

"Your mother's so nice," you tell him. "I really like her."

Loki smiles. "I'm glad you like her."

"Oh, yeah - um, Loki, I'm really sorry about storming out on you a few days ago. I know there's the soulmate thing, but - it was wrong of me, and I'm sorry."

"It's alright," says Loki gently. "It wasn't your fault. Listen, I've been thinking. We got off to a bad start, and I'm sorry about that. I know it's too late to turn things back, but-"

He sighs. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I love you, and I do want a relationship with you. But I want a real one, not one based off - obligation."

Your heart jumps. "Are you asking me out?"

Loki nods. "If that's what Midgardians call courting, then yes."

You take a deep breath. "Okay. Yeah. I'd - I'd like that."

Then you feel a sudden warmth in your chest, a warmth that matches the smile on Loki's face.

*************************************************

Part 3 coming soon

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