chelstmrangst​:

Any weird pressure to make a good impression on Nash’s teammates subsided when she saw Detlev head in her direction. She was no stranger. She figured he’d given up, already noticing how much of a hot commodity he was and unfortunately it only made Sloane want to like him less. “Hey.” She only said it once because once is enough to get the point across. “Just a regular Saturday night for me.” Which isn’t necessarily true, but any bar is a bar of strangers if you think about it. “Do they ever get tired of you guys here?” She asked honestly, glancing over at the bartenders with a smirk. “I imagine you all tip well.” They’d have to. She won’t comment on the home part, Detlev’s a little too sentimental for her taste.

Detlev raises his brows in an exaggerated manner of being impressed at the notion that Sloane spent Saturdays regularly at bars surrounded by strangers. He doesn’t comment on the matter though, moving on to chuckling at her odd question instead. “Yes on both counts,” he admits. “But this place has been around for a long time and they’ve seen droves of Falcons come and go so there’s probably some comfort in knowing that their most annoying regular is always just one well limb breakage from never coming back,” he shrugs, as though the thought isn’t a little morbid. “But until then,” Detlev raises his glass slightly as a nod to his words and takes a sip from it.

“I’m happy to see you guys here today,” he says candidly as he sets his drink back down. “Happy to have Nash on the team at all, I didn’t think we’d ever go back to seeing each other so regularly as we did in school. But I should’ve known even back then that he had to drive to go pro.”

chelstmrangst​:

Leo & Soren | Too Far Ahead

Leo had never been someone who got excited about the first day of classes. Uncle Phin would have to bribe them just to move in, even though he knew that most of the time Leo was partially faking the dread. Partially meaning the dread: Sure, Leo hated class and never adapted to sitting still for quite that long, often opting for fidgeting and levitating paper balls to the backs of kids’ heads. They hated the extra weight of their textbooks, the itchiness of the school uniform against their spine and elbows, their weekly sessions with their assigned counselor. At least in the summer no one ever asked Leo hard questions; no one ever made Leo feel like a problem to be solved. 

Partially faking the dread: Leo didn’t mind Hogwarts. They liked the stupid talking ghosts and trying to race the staircases, the smell of the grass after a close game, how noisy the Great Hall was in the mornings. They liked waking up to noise in the mornings, being a part of the noise, not the cause of it. Growing up an only child with cousins twice your age and spending summers in a big house with an old man made being around their peers a hell of a lot more tempting. By the end of the warmer months Leo had missed quidditch so much that the first place they always hit was the pitch—until Soren, that is. And this fall, Leo was ready to go before Phineas had flipped the first pancake.

The first day of classes couldn’t come soon enough, and Leo’s energy fed off the chatter in the halls, long bony fingers gripping tightly to the new Apparition book they’d bought with Soren under Gaby’s watch. Someone had fallen into step beside them exchanging how was your summers and are you ready for D’Angelo’s class? Leo, fueled by the excitement to see their best friend, merely responded with uh-huhs and yeahs until, “Got two front row seats with my name on it!“ 

They rounded the corner and spotted soft blonde, just where he said he would be, lit by the open door of the classroom, talking to someone Leo didn’t care to recognize. Leo cleared their throat, glistening, and adjusted the yellow tie they’d swapped over break. A Hufflepuff for the day. “You guys ready for our disappearing acts?” Leo addressed to the air but distinctly to one person in particular. “This is gonna be the sickest year yet.”

Moving back to school was always a quiet process for Soren. His maman, the source of life and liveliness when it came to most other facets of his home life, was hushed as September approached by the impending departure of her remaining baby. And even when Detlev visited, as he insisted on doing every year to see the youngest of his brothers off, the quiet snuck away from the outside world and into Soren’s mouth, making home inside of him instead. He felt singularly alone in taking off from King’s Cross even with his father’s hand on his shoulder, imparting upon him a solemn goodbye even though he looked on the precipice of saying so much more. Moving back to school had always been one of the rare times Soren did not crave peace and quiet, rather, he was waiting on his toes to be disturbed.

…In a different way than he was currently being plagued, that is. He had every reason to blame Leo for the conversation he found himself an unwilling participant in at the moment, seeing how it started with a comment on the red and yellow of his tie. He was more than happy to see a familiar mug come into view to take some responsibility for his predicament, and stepped toward his friend right away. The world was bursting with sound and color once more and Soren embraced it eagerly. Shuffling the knot of his own tie, the very one which had given him pause that morning in wonder of a world where he was more like Detlev, Soren nodded in response to Leo’s words before he even processed fully what he was agreeing to. 

He didn’t quite have the flashy words that Leo did, or that many others did, as displayed by the person beside him agreeing with more verbal enthusiasm than Soren himself could’ve mustered on the spot. So while it was rare for Soren to appreciate any kind of distraction at a time when Leo was around, he looked up all too quickly at the sound of a familiar, regaling voice overhead. 

Some professors gained class with age and experience. Others, were Dexter D’Angelo. The man seemed particularly formidable in size directly beside Soren, with his arms entwined over his broad chest and his ankles crossed as he leaned against the doorframe of his room. But his demeanor was anything but imposing as he greeted with a broad, “Morning kiddos.”

Dex’s gaze swept over each of the teens standing closest to him before it caught on Leo, surprised to see them in such good spirits where he was sure he was going to get a mouth or a handful regarding their placement this term. Still, if they were managing to hold it together this well to be supportive of the other boy in the group, who was undoubtedly their best friend, then so be it. There was something a little more fascinating and carefree that had caught Dex’s attention to address anyway. 

“So this is cute,” he gestured vaguely in Leo’s direction and then in Soren’s. “Temporary identity crises or did I just lose a bet about who would say something first?”

📡 magic walkie talkies // soreo

leo: good, knew you would

leo: don't know what's worse, the sound of eating slugs or the sound of you ditching me this fall to kiss up to davenport or anyone less interesting

leo: it's too late in the game to find a new best friend

leo: sealed. see you in december.

leo: and like, before then too. walkie you soon, fudge flies. over and out!

soren: yeah, better be before then. talk sooner rather than later, jelly slugs. over and out.

📡 magic walkie talkies // soreo

leo: you're you and i'm me. 'course i have your back.

leo: what're they feeding you over there? you're talking crazy! i'd eat slugs if a single cool thing turned up about him.

leo: don't go all teacher's pet on me, soren. not like they can hear us or anything. /we're/ the ones with the cool secret hearing radio. besides, most old people can't hear that well anyway. we're fine!

leo: .... [😊] deal.

leo: shake on it?

leo: got my arm out — over.

soren: and i have your back too.

soren: well then you'd better build up an appetite for slugs real quick cause i bet we'll find something interesting.

soren: shake on it. my arm's out too. over.

📡 magic walkie talkies // soreo

leo: bess from herbology couldn't take a pygmy puff in a fight if it was caged, no way she'll dead you

leo: and i wouldn't let her, anyway.

leo: merlin, hands down! i've just got this feeling professor d'angelo is into some freaky shit. like, that's a man who has secrets. i bet davenport is boring, though.

leo: we're smart, we'll come up with some good pranks. Maybe I can get professor broad-well to change my grade from last year if i find out something embarrassing, like if he's got a stupid tattoo or something. he seems like the kinda dweeb to have a stupid tattoo. he's alright looking though, for an old dude.

leo: you wish! i've been practicing on the wheels in your absence just so i could smoke you when you got back. but i'd still beat you barefoot!

leo: good, knew you would be

[...]

leo: ...it's not too far ahead?

[...]

leo: over!

soren: that makes me feel better, but makes me feel even better knowing you have my back. [this time soren stops to smile before recalibrating.] ...bess doesn't stand a chance against us, we're gonna live in your radio's glory all year, maybe even longer!

soren: um professor d'angelo seems like his secrets should stay where they were buried, i don't wanna know how many people he's killed with that smile on his face. and it's always the seemingly boring ones with the most secrets, watch out. just cause you like davenport and don't want him to have any dooming secrets...

soren: /cadwell/, leo. he certainly won't change your grade until you start saying his name right. professors have ears on the back of their heads, they know these things. also he's...not that old? i think him and my dad are the same age, they're not /that/... anyway

[...]

soren: it's not. you're gonna love it here, there are a ton of little festivals for the holidays and the town's always covered in snow in december so you're gonna get to make the /coolest/ snowmen. potentially even cooler than me. over.

📡 magic walkie talkies // soreo

leo: yeah and i'm gonna wanna show everyone but tell the wrong blabber mouth - bess from herbology i'm talking to you - and someone'll probably confiscate it.

leo: i mean because i was already thinking of what kinds a signals we could tap into y'know? some of the professors are so old i'm sure they're still using old tech...mostly because i just don't like bess much.

leo: anyway, ...yeah? we're both pretty likable people. [a few rare moments of quiet because leo is smiling] i'll uh-get my bike fixed! it's taken a few hits since the last time you visited.

leo: alright, i'll let uncle phin know and then you can come steal me whenever, no notice required. [...]

leo: i'll be there in december, for sure. i'll make a snowman version of you, but like, cooler. get it, co-

leo: cut out, oops! you there? gryffindor to honorary gryffindor, over.

soren: bess from herbology is going to take this from us over my cold, dead body.

soren: could be interesting to see what kind of weird secrets the professors are exchanging when they think no one's listening. but what would we do with that kind of information? there are so many possibilities?

soren: yeah you do that. i'd tell you to be more careful on the bike but i know better. just make sure you have a ride by the next time i'm over or i'll leave you in the dust on oakley's and you can do your best the old school way on your feet.

[...]

soren: yeah, i'm here.

soren: for real, you wanna come by in the winter? ...over.

📡 magic walkie talkies // soreo

leo: not yet, but uncle phin's trying to teach me that whole 'never quit' lesson so he's been at it for ages. like a hundred years in old people time, or whatever. wellll if it gets done before move-in i was going to bring it to school. fingers crossed!

leo: mostly because who knows when you'll get to come back and i can't wait that long to show you.

leo: geez well i'm like really really bad at getting on professor's good sides.

leo: oh, yeah, i mean i'm sure he could. i could ask him, but if you think your mom'll say yes then that would also be really fun. i feel like your mom probably has some student insider secrets, ya know? she asked about me? that's cool, real glad i made a good enough impression!

leo: as a gryffindor i feel like i can totally call it better than you can. over!

soren: everyone's gonna be so jealous if you can make it work and bring it to school. the radio's gonna need its own security detail. we'll have to take shifts making sure it never falls into the wrong hands.

soren: also i could come back whenever you want me to. my parents like uncle phin and they like you.

soren: my mom will definitely say yes so just ask uncle phin when we can steal you. she asked if you wanted to come over again in the winter since it's nice here with snow. she likes to think super far ahead like that for everything, it's kinda sweet that she just assumes nothing's gonna change ever.

soren: fine fine, i can be an honorary gryffindor for one day. for you. over.

📡 magic walkie talkies // soreo

leo: I WAS GOING TO ASK IF YOU WERE EXCITED ABOUT FINALLY ACTUALLY REALLY LEARNING HOW TO APPARRATE BUT I GUE-- [static]

leo: THIS IS THE BEST NE-- [static]

leo: sorry, uncle phin and i have been trying to make one of those old timey radios from like the 1800s or whatever but cooler because magic upgrades and i think he's playing with it downstairs. gimme a sec, over.

leo: i asked uncle phin about it and he said yeah! i heard the professor for the class is kinda a hard ass and i don't wanna screw up right away. i usually like to give it a week or two before fumbling the bag. do you uh, think your mom could take us?

leo: also you could totally pass as a Gryffindor, over!

soren: wait wait wait, you can't just breeze over this old radio. that's awesome! does it work?? i wanna see it next time i come over.

soren: i heard that too! i asked my parents for tips and they basically just said to focus and not get on his bad side, whatever that means. i figured uncle phin would take us since he used to work at school and probably knows all the insider stuff but i can ask my mom instead. she's been asking about you anyway so she's probably gonna say yes, no problem.

soren: ...also i definitely can't but thanks.

soren: over.

📡 magic walkie talkies // soreo

leo: that's so weird 'cause i ALSO have a question. you first, no take backs! over!

leo: and if it's about us swapping ties on the first day of class, the answer is already yes. over and out!

soren: ...it wasn't that, no...also no professor in their right mind would buy me as a gryffindor so we'll get caught in two seconds. i WAS gonna ask if you wanted to go shopping for our books for the semester together in a couple of weeks. i heard apparitions has a new edition out this year so we should pick up one of the newer ones before they run out, over!

soren: wait what was your question? Over.

📡 magic walkie talkies // soreo

leo: jelly slug to fudge flies, i repeat, jelly slug to fudge flies, over!

soren: fudge flies to jelly slug, good timing, I have a question, over.

chelstmrangst​:

Though the silence itself didn’t last long, Leo felt their statement suspended in air, and Soren’s lack of an instant response solidified Leo’s uncertainty. When he did speak, only to reiterate he too didn’t know what they were doing wrong, Leo felt like a deflating balloon. Whatever leftover air caught in their lungs blew from their lips in a raspberry, the weight of their poor posture sunk to their elbows, which dug potholes into their thighs. They couldn’t tell if they were relieved or disappointed in Soren’s response. Often times where their counselor or Headmaster Davenport and all the other adults with Leo’s “best interest” in mind faltered, Soren carried around an understanding Leo felt was reserved just for them. If Soren could not tell them what they were doing wrong, the only opinion Leo might consider, a brief sense of hopelessness blew over them in a gush of wind, and dirty strands of brown hair strung past their forehead. 

“Gee, thanks.” They mumbled, but the pout attached boasted a playfulness the early parts of their exchange lacked. Leo’s eyes trailed down, and sideways, and upwards, and down again in a sassy drawn rotation until they studied the spiked grass that shadowed Soren’s knees. They sighed, or attempted a sigh, half stitched in their throat when Soren reached once more for their sweaty dirt-dressed palm. The instinct not to be touched when upset floated their fingers off their knee like a twitch. Before Leo could make a decision Soren’s hand had already pried its way around theirs. They unstiffened. The rest of their sigh released. 

The gesture was followed by words Leo didn’t realize they needed to hear. After idolizing everyone close to them it felt validating for someone to think they were the best. For once Leo wanted someone to feel the exact way they felt about them without obligation. Their cheeks warmed at the affirmation, eyes trailing cluelessly between the grass and the neckline of Soren’s shirt. They chortled, “More important than the best thing out there?” Leo’s eyes finally widened with imagination, a glimmer of galaxies reflected in them as they tried to conjure the extraordinary. A gleeful, dopey smirk sprouted. “More important than…learning how to avoid splinching this year?” Something they spent most of fifth year discussing. “Or breaking the world record for the largest stick bomb?” Something Leo’s been trying to design since they were twelve. “Or…getting to fish whenever you’d like?” Their wide eyes narrowed skeptically, “You’re bluffing.” 

Playfulness softened as Soren continued, gaze dancing between both of his bright eyes as he spoke, unsure where to focus, wishing they could look at all of him all at once. Leo tried to make sense of Soren’s explanation, and they wished it to be true at least for him. If either of them deserved for it to be true, it was Soren. Leo didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to say out loud that it was possible the thing they loved the most about themself was what caused their family to fall apart. They couldn’t fathom what was so discouraging about magic. There are people in the world who run from magic when Leo has looked for it in everything. Even Octavius sought out illusion and enchantment in his career, even Octavius had loved magic in whatever form he could get his hands on. Leo believed their mother had too at some point loved magic, to have fallen in love with their father. They only wondered what the difference was, or if the unthinkable was only wondrous when it was a myth. 

It would be easy for them to hate magic, a purposeful crack of their wand in retaliation of their existence, but how could they? How could they hate something that helped them float above ground? How could they hate something that sat right across from them? For their own sake, Leo hoped Soren was right, even when they knew he wasn’t. “If it’s not about me, wish it didn’t bother me so much.” They grumbled, shrugging. If it’s not their fault, why did it feel like they were suffering the most? “Does that mean…there’s just nothing we can do?” Voice riddled with shy disappointment, a sense of defeat that hadn’t fully settled. “Sucks. They can just…do whatever they want, and we just have to…I don’t know. Deal.” Leo wondered what age they had to reach where it was no longer practical to follow instructions. They couldn’t remember what age they’d stopped believing adults were always right, so what age do they stop feeling like a deviant for not wanting to listen? 

Luckily distracted by the rising of their hand, Leo didn’t reject the pull, and smiled weakly at the comfort of Soren’s grip. Instinctively, they clutched his hand in return, as if they were speaking in a volume-less prose. The sound of Soren’s laughter was medicine, a pill they didn’t mind swallowing. The lump in their throat fell to their stomach at the sheer sound of it. Better. Whatever had existed in this conversation, whether solely the act of finally criminalizing their father, or Soren opening up about his own, or the simplicity of being able to laugh together again, Leo felt better. 

As their lanky arm dangled with Soren’s shaking hand, Leo erupted into a less filtered giggle. “Yeah.” They said mid-laugh. “Yeah, you’re so right.” They added assuredly, feeling the heavy urge to fall back against the grass, grounded only by their best friend’s grasp. Belatedly, they stroked their drying cheek with their free palm, leaving a streak of dirt in its place, and exhaled dramatically. “Do you think we should get back before Uncle Phin comes looking?” They suggested reluctantly, head tilting to spy on the vacant path leading home. They glanced back at Soren, waiting for some kind of indication that they hadn’t completely scared him off for the weekend. 

Soren couldn’t help but smile at Leo’s very physical deflation. One of the things he loved most about them was how little secrets there were in Leo; he liked unearthing things about his friend but he liked being presented with all of them upfront even more. He didn’t have a verbal reaction for Leo’s dramatic roll of the eyes but his lips quirked just a hair higher at the familiar sight. His own gaze remained glued on Leo’s mouth, hungry to feast on its roguish smirk after the longest period he’d ever spent in the presence of its frown. If Soren’s own eyes and lips mirrored what he saw, he certainly wasn’t aware of it.

Soren’s smile grew with each thing Leo stacked up against their friendship, knowing his answer every time but wanting the other to finish the list before confirming all at once. But hearing the callback from earlier times between them shuffled up the box of treasured memories in Soren’s mind and his self-restraint waned. “I guess I can’t prove it to you until the future rolls around and someone comes up to me like hey-” he pointed a single finger gun just past Leo, addressing his imaginary self, “you want to take the boat out or sit on the floor with Leo and get shoved more times in a conversation than any sane human should be used to- nay, comforted by?” Soren shrugged and his body language relaxed with it. “But I’m not bluffing. Future me’s mind is totally made up.”

Soren let out a soft breath when Leo let out their realist string of questions. He hated to see them so down but somehow, the most grown-up he’d ever seen them all at once. His grip on Leo’s hand tightened. “About everything that’s already happened? I don’t think so. What happens now though?” Soren leaned in as though he was eager to share a secret, “We’re the only ones that can do something big, something that’s going to matter in the long run.” He was unprepared to share that this bit of advice was just about the only thing he’d retained from all the unsolicited words his oldest brother aimed at him, and somehow, also the thing that kept him on his feet sometimes. And so he moved on.

“Yeah, it does suck. But so does the class line up for next semester and all those exams I’m going to make you study for and the way too excitable underclassmen that are joining your team and whatever new and experimental haircut professor Scamander rolls in with first day.” Soren spoke with a little smile, curling more at his cheeks and the corners of his eyes than his lips. He only hoped to see it in return. “We’ll be okay,” he breathed with his entire chest. We’ll be happy, he wanted to say. He wanted to say it, he was so sure he did. And yet the seconds in which he could have fled away from him before his very eyes and he knew he’d have to ask himself sometime why.

A fondness trickled into Soren’s expression to see the smudge on Leo’s cheek, his earlier fear of never seeing his friend again for who they truly were making the sight before him all the more valuable now. He locked the image away for if they ever came at odds again, with one single breath, a single passing thought in his mind of, It will always be this. 

Soren was gently startled out of the moment at the mention of Leo’s uncle, unsure when it had become so easy for him to switch off his peripheral thoughts, his persistent awareness of everything and everyone. He did have a love already for uncle Phineas, not wanting the man to worry as Leo had suggested but the part of him that was convinced he and Leo would live untroubled in the future wanted to stay longer. It wanted to remain in the shade of trees, all peripherals blurred away, basking in the relieved feeling of recovery, both personal and mutual. Soren took a deep breath and he wanted to stay, he was so sure of it.

But his fingers were giving Leo one more squeeze all too soon and just like that, before his very own eyes, his hand was retreating and he was nodding mid-stand. “Yeah,” he nodded, reaching back down to help Leo up. And then he told his friend what he was undoubtedly telling himself as well, “We have the rest of the week to come back.”

chelstmrangst​:

Feeling caged by the conversation had caused Leo to do what they were accustomed to, running away from their problems. Though it typically came in snarky remarks during counseling sessions, defensiveness, and most commonly humor, this time Leo had felt a physical need to be removed from Soren and Uncle Phin’s heavy attentions. They felt dirty, icky, and itchy not only from the thought that what they’d convinced themself for years could be wrong, but that they had instigated riffs with two of their favorite people on Earth. They weren’t sure if they wanted to be followed, they didn’t expect it, usually being left to calm down after what might be categorized as a ‘temper tantrum’. As they struggled to find balance on their bike, too mentally flushed to tap into muscle memory from the day prior, they feared what they had usually flaunted: genetics. 

Being a Thorfinn filled Leo with a sense of pride. They couldn’t imagine a single person meeting Uncle Phin and not thinking he was one of the bestest guys out there, nor meeting their father and not thinking he was cool and filled with wonder. Octavius was a library decked to the ceiling with stories, the kind of library that lets you talk as loudly as you please, one with an echo that offers the illusion of conversation. He had traveled to countries Leo couldn’t pronounce and cities they still weren’t sure actually existed, even after countless hours tracing their finger around an iridescent globe, wondering if they were so obscure not even modernity could locate them. Genetically, Leo had always hoped to be like their father, happy and free with skin the walls of a library, but one with an intercom instead of an echo. What they feared now was that they had gained the worst traits of both of their parents, the instinct to run. 

The faster they rode the harder the wind hit them on the way up, a physical force to push back any lingering thoughts and a good reason to blame the irritation in their eyes on. By the time they reached a green enough side of the grass, they were out of breath. In their usual fashion the bike fell clumsily behind them, rusted metal hugged by the tall uncut blades, and Leo sat cross-legged for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only ten minutes or so. The sound of crunching grass disrupted their stillness, turning to look behind them and lingering for a few quiet seconds before facing forward again. Their head fell just enough to keep their eyes low, only seeing the rubber soles of Soren’s shoes as he sat across from them. Leo didn’t feel the need to defend themself, to start a riot before Soren could speak, they didn’t want to. Fighting with someone you love was exhausting and they wondered how adults did it all the time. 

Eyes fixed on Soren pulling the grass and it seems once again they’ve swapped temperaments, Leo’s hands strictly resting on their scabbed knees. Soren’s admission instantly drew Leo’s eyes, shooting up without moving their head, and they stayed fixated on his face as he spoke. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Their voice small, knowing how Soren bringing up their father made them feel and not wanting to have struck the same nerve in their friend but apparently doing it anyway. Their gaze slowly lowered as Soren continued, unable to look at him and think critically at the same time. Trying to absorb his monologue all at once was difficult, eyes reading the grass around them like a cheat sheet. Where they once found it impossible to address their own issues, hearing Soren put it into his own situation and trying to understand that in this way they understood each other, only meant Leo had to recognize their issues were the same. 

If Soren missed his father, Leo missed their father. If Soren felt a temporary excitement at the slightest inch of effort from Malekai, then Leo felt the same with Octavius. Hearing Soren explain his situation only gave words to their own. Looking at their own reflection couldn’t clear their path the way looking at Soren’s reflection seemed to, Leo more themself in him than even their own body. “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” A quiet, soft voice that felt the way Leo imagines the wind feels to the grass, like a whisper that’s nostalgic before it’s even finished passing through. Swallowing down potential tears, they finally looked up at Soren for some kind of relief, their best friend always having this inexplicable power to steady them. 

“Why doesn’t he want to be around me?” Leo assumed there must be something more exciting and powerful and lovable out there in the world that Octavius was on a never ending search for. Sometimes they wished they could remember what made their mother so special but then they do, and then it made sense, and they hated when it made sense. “I do everything right, I do, I try. And I know that he…but he just…” Leo struggled to find the wording, unable to reroute the part of their brain that idolized their father. “He’s the best person in the world but sometimes he really sucks.” They rubbed the back of their hand against their cheek aggressively, hoping to erase any evidence of tears. 

They sat quiet for a few beats, a heavy exhale finally relieving some of the pressure in their chest. They didn’t understand what’s up with Malekai, why Soren felt the way he felt since they had such different upbringings and his family seemed picture perfect upon arrival. All they could make out was that Malekai was always around and still never around. “No offense,” their voice hadn’t held an ounce of surety until now, even if still hushed “Your dad sounds kind of dumb.” They sniffled, back slumped. “He gets to spend all that time with you and doesn’t appreciate it.” Leo thought maybe, just maybe, if Octavius spent a little more time with them then he would see what he was missing. They can’t imagine someone, Malekai, seeing what he’s missing every day and not wanting to be around Soren persistently. 

Each of his facial muscles, tensed from the moment he rose that morning, relaxed inexplicably to hear that Leo hadn’t meant to attack him so directly. He didn’t even care to ask how exactly Leo had meant it, if not to poke holes into his fragile charade of adulthood. Just to know Leo hadn’t lashed out to him in such a low blow was enough. He was tempted to tilt his chin, crane it lower to try and hold Leo’s eyes even as they fell but he decided to bite back the craving for now. They would have plenty of time to sit close and memorize each other once this was all over with- he had to believe they would.

Though he had never experienced a romantic heartbreak before, Soren was no stranger to the overall feeling, able to recognize it instantly creep up his sternum and seize his chest with heat upon Leo’s frail admission. I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Words he could have sworn he’d spoken himself to his therapist, to his mother, to any sturdy adult at all who would listen, on countless occasions. It was a desperate, desolate sensation and he had meant it when he said it was one thing for him to feel such a thing but an entirely different thing for his closest friend in the world to experience the same. He was angrier about one than the other and he was alright with that. 

Soren hadn’t realized how deeply furrowed his brows had grown until Leo looked back to him a touch glossier than they had been a moment ago. He was struck for a moment, having to remember which body he belonged to as he confused Leo’s expression for his own. Logically, he knew there was no way for him to replicate inside himself the exact same feeling that Leo housed, but he found logic hard to believe at the moment. Why doesn’t he want to be around me? The words hammered down on Soren’s surety; if it wasn’t possible to be the same person and feel the same things, then they were whatever came next, beside one another when everyone else only fathomed how to be ten feet behind.

“I don’t know, Leo,” Soren found himself speaking without his own permission. He licked his lips in confusion for a second as to how that happened, though he wouldn’t take it back. Now it was his eyes that were lowered, glued to Leo’s hands still gripping at their knees. They were dirty and sweaty and coarse, just how Soren recognized them best and he lifted his own cautiously. The two most hurtful things to happen to him as of late were the perceived accusation that he was projecting his issues with his own father onto Leo and Octavius’s relationship, and Leo’s abrupt yanking away of their hand when all Soren wanted was to feel togetherness between them. Turned out, one of those things was just a misconception, easily dispelled, so it was easy to go out on a limb now, hoping the other was too. 

Soren’s fingers pried between Leo’s and their knee, one at a time, slipping in until he could press his palm to their knuckles. “I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t wanna be around you. I don’t know what out there could be better. I- well, I can’t think of anything. But even if I could... you’re more important anyway.” He took a deep breath, unsure that he was making any sense amid the heaviness that was settling in his lungs to speak so candidly in ways he wasn’t sure Leo would accept from him. 

“Sometimes it’s not about us. I think...I think I’m doing the absolute best I can with my dad and there’s still just something…” Soren shook his head slightly, emphasizing his own utter lack of understanding. “Something invisible that holds him back and I’m not responsible for that thing. I know I’m not. That thing’s been bothering him since before I was even around. Renee tells me so. And I think maybe it’s the same with your dad. I think you’re doing everything right too. But maybe it’s not about us. I know it doesn’t sound very fair out loud but...it makes more sense than it being your fault.” Soren sounded adamant about that last part and to hear Leo at long last say a single negative word about Octavius, be it still in somewhat gentle words, was a weight off his chest. He squeezed Leo’s hand once before peeling them off their knee and bringing both their hands to rest on the grass instead. 

Soren couldn’t help the small laugh that sputtered out of him at the bold-faced insult to his father. From where they rested, curled in the space between Leo’s thumb and index finger, Soren’s fingers clutched slightly, needing to plant himself somewhere as not to get carried away. With such a juvenile description slapped onto the face of his austere father, there was no choice but to laugh; Leo often robbed him of all other choices. “Maybe,” Soren chuckled quietly, blue eyes touched with sunlight as they met Leo’s again. “But anyone who doesn’t take the time to do this kind of stuff,” he gave their hands a little wiggle as his gaze panned all around them, “with you is dumb too.”

The time between Leo’s flight from the house and Sören’s more seemingly gracious footsteps out felt like an eternity, though he was sure only ten or so minutes had passed. At first he’d been still, eerily so, fist clenched over the counter in an effort to come down from the red hot adrenaline that had coursed through him to be accused of projecting. It took a moment, maybe two to remember which Diederich he was before he lifted his chin to apologize to Uncle Phin, asking the man if he needed any help cleaning up, though no one had touched their breakfast. He was grateful for the older man’s quiet dismissal, still touched with a hint of paternal care despite the circumstances.

Though he didn’t know where exactly to go when he walked out of the house, doing that part at least felt instinctive. He couldn’t just sit around with things being how they were, with Leo out there somewhere full of misconceptions and anger towards him. The world was tilted on the wrong axis and it was the one injustice among so many dealt to him that Sören just couldn’t take sitting down. And so when he noticed the bike missing from where it had been discarded on the lawn, Sören felt a tug originating right from the center of his chest, pulling him up the hill he’d run down just yesterday. He contemplated taking Phineas’s bike, as he hadn’t gotten to ride it much between the wayward biking lessons but the need for more buffer time with his own thoughts, and to give Leo time with theirs, stopped him.

Instead, Sören walked, slow trudges to imitate the pathways of his thoughts. With his eyes glued to the ground, the words “Then why are we having this talk?” stuck themselves to Sören’s mind. When they were initially presented to him he hadn’t been able to think of an answer fast enough for Leo to listen. Everything involved circumventing some kind of truth, adhering to some form of forced nicety and Sören just did not feel like doing any of that anymore. He wanted to be honest but questioned how he could do so if Leo was clearly so resistant to reciprocating. Or maybe they were speaking their truth and Sören simply had to come to terms with that.

His head hurt slightly by the time he reached the peak of the hill and laid eyes on his friend again. Unsure if it was from hunger or from running around in mental circles, Sören took a deep breath and then approached, quietly at first, and then crunching on the grass under his feet as not to startle Leo. Ordinarily he would have moved to sit beside Leo, their shoulders aligned as they always were but today he lowered himself to the ground across from his friend, not too far but not too close either. He wanted to be graced with the touch of Leo’s eyes once more, and he knew the odds of that were slimmer when they were at each other’s sides.

“Maybe…” There was a molten pit in Sören’s stomach rehearsing the words at the tip of his tongue. This is the only way, he told himself. You have to, this is the only way. He licked his lips and then, “Maybe I was projecting.” His fingers plucked at the grass underneath them in a mannerism that was not his own. “Maybe my dad’s body is around all the time but his head isn’t so I know what it’s like to miss a dad and then get hopeful and happy when he peaks around for a bit, hoping it’ll last before he’s just...gone and I don’t know why or what I did to deserve it. Like I take myself apart all the time to try and figure out which piece made him go away. So yeah, I get mad from time to time because it isn’t fair and it doesn’t make any sense...but I’m even more mad because it’s one thing when I have to go through this shit but it’s a whole other thing when you do.”

Sören let out a deep breath, his gaze fixed on Leo’s form even if the other refused to look back. “You asked why we were talking about it and it’s because sometimes the hardest and the worst shit tumbles out without our permission and then it’s already out there...there’s no putting it back. Trying to is just gonna make it worse. We’re talking about it because I don’t want things to get worse, Leo. We’re talking about it because if we can’t talk to each other about it then what shot does the rest of the world have with us?”

like 2 stars floating in the universe | the diederich men

The goal was to pleasantly surprise Rowan with his presence rather than scare the man half to death, but unfortunately, the latter had to come to fruition before the former. Walking into their apartment after a rather ordinary day of work to the sound of bustling in the kitchen when the Quidditch player in their relationship was supposed to be overseas prepping for a semi-finals match was alarming. But not as much as getting swept up in Detlev’s arms as soon as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. 

“I know you have that whole thing with your parents tonight…” As Detlev spoke, Rowan peered over the man’s shoulder to the simple but thought-out spread laid out on their dining table. “But I thought I could steal you away for just a little bit first?” Rowan didn’t have to look at Detlev’s boldly familiar grin to know it was there. Lips touched his jaw in a manner that his 16-year-old self never would have imagined, adding to the slight shiver that chased across him to hear Detlev’s voice in closer proximity than it had been in weeks, “Happy birthday, my love.”

─

Ordinarily, reorganizing boxes of inventory at the back of the shop wouldn’t be quite an exciting task, but with a bargain on the line of the more efficient stocker getting to choose their son’s outfit for the evening’s engagements, Renee and Jo were rather motivated. In between storing their materials almost a little too precariously in a bid to win their little challenge, Renee’s eyes caught on his own plaid shirt, worn but comfortable where they rested on Jo’s shoulders, hugging to her loosely as he often wished to be in these moments.

Later tonight when they joined their families and varying members of the community to celebrate the very woman always on Renee’s mind, she’d look very different. No less herself but wonderful in different ways, with the little boy on her hip that was the pride and joy of their lives, and Renee almost couldn’t decide which version of her he loved more. He could’ve pondered on it right then, made an entire pros and cons list in his mind, weighing each time he’d seen her milling about the shop and simply been disarmed by her mere presence, against every family, anniversary, and birthday dinner where he’d openly tuned out speakers to gaze upon her. 

But instead, his attention was pulled away by the corner of a box poking at his side as Jo herself teased that with the pace he had slowed down to it was almost as if he wanted Yago to be dressed entirely by her. Renee supposed that at the end of the day, having to decide whether he was going to daydream about his wife or kick her ass in every challenge she posed him with, wasn’t such a terrible problem to have.

─

In hindsight, Soren was lucky he didn’t get whacked upside the head, appearing at Leo’s bedside at midnight and poking his friend awake the way he did but he would do it again if he had to. He had to be the first, no matter what it took, no matter that it went against his instincts to creep out of his own dorm and into the Gryffindor ones, arms full with loot. No matter that he’d never done something so bold as to insist Leo scoot over in a whispered command so he could not only squish onto the single bed beside his friend but dump a variety of Honeyduke’s sweets mixed in with a handful of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes trinkets before them. To know which was being picked up in the darkness of the room was part of the game and the grin on Soren’s lips as he latched onto each of Leo’s reactions wasn’t just an eagerness to know if his friend approved or not. It was the show of his racing heart, his red-tipped ears, the adventurous heart he’d never mustered the bravery to show anybody else. It was a thanks for helping me be the most me I’ve ever felt, all wrapped into the simple words of, “We’re going to make this your happiest birthday ever, Leo.”

─

After their last encounter, Malekai almost expected her not to open the door for him. Nothing should be bating his breath anymore at this age but to stand there in front of her home once more, this time without the words, “go home to your wife” ringing in his ears, he could have sworn he was 17 again. Despite the suspense, she let him in, as she always did against her better instincts, and Malekai stepped in slowly, glancing around the space where he’d nearly gone mad with the burden of both of their choices, past, present, and even potential ones. 

She could never know the lengths he went to in order to track down the Greek dessert that he set down on her table, trapped in the past to survive since she wouldn’t allow them to ascend into their future. But even if she wouldn’t know of them, she deserved every second he poured into this since he had the thought of it, every moment it took away from the others in his life, every location he visited in search, every bit of nostalgia that touched him along the way. She deserved for him to be at her feet in mind when his body stood a foot above hers at all times. 

She had turned him away last time, unwilling to rock the boat when all they had done their entire youths was lean into the waves, crashing headlong into the shore with laughter at their lips. But now she had lived one more year, decades longer than either of them had thought they’d make it in life and it was a call for celebration. A call to sink the hull just a splash, a call for an embrace, for closeness, for a whispered and careless, “I’ve been thinking about you. But I didn’t want to wait for your say so to come along today.”

chelstmrangst​:

Thorfinn Family Breakfast // Soreo

The sudden outburst that came from the blonde beside them startled Leo, not from volume or bite but from the existence of it. Had they been foolish to think Soren someone to bite their tongue, or just trustworthy enough to assume Soren wouldn’t kick them when they were down? Whatever loyalty and love Soren thought he was exhibiting by calling Octavius’s bluff and finally drawing the curtain to reveal the charade Leo had been choreographing for years now had only registered to Leo as betrayal. Their head shot to the side at the sound of Soren’s voice, first an expression of confusion that slowly twisted into discomfort, as though an invisible wound had struck them. They felt a burn at their freshly scabbed knees as they stood from their seat. Not a look of anger, or sadness, but disbelief. 

Leo had long confused loyalty with lack of honesty. Their therapist at Hogwarts, their professors, their gut feeling, and anyone who had ever asked them to think critically about their consciousness was deemed an enemy. Barely clinging to his words, Leo’s brain scrambled to separate Soren from the other enemies. Victimizing themself as though blood dripped from their back, they donned a look that whispered not you too. “He was here.” They disputed, a fact that unfortunately gave Octavius the upperhand on account that part of Leo secretly hadn’t expected him at all. A faded concept they no longer had to examine considering he did show up. “He had a good reason.” Quick to defend their father, what was phrased as a question only minutes beforehand now was a definite claim. They weren’t yelling, but their voice stung on it’s way out, leaving the aggression to line their throat instead of their lips. 

“Did you? Did you want him to be?” Leo felt their fingers clench and unclench in the same breath, the battle between an uncontrollable explosion that demanded the forced counseling sessions and the sour taste in their mouth at the thought that Soren would be at the receiving end. Feet faltering in a faint step backwards, they focused any repressed energy on trying to be calm, an urge they didn’t have when talking to anyone else. “You didn’t even seem excited to meet him.” This followed a slow drop of their chest as they exhaled through their nose, voice more desperate than defensive. It wasn’t until then that Leo had even bothered looking over at Phineas, only due to noticing Soren’s gaze shift at the older man who stood back straight watching the pair with every muscle in his tall, thin body. Leo stood silent as both kids looked to the adult in the room. 

Taking a deep breath, Phineas struggled to find the words to clarify and ease Leo’s questions while not discrediting Soren, who he agreed with but could never say aloud. “I-I think Soren is trying to empathize, Leo.” He gestured to the boy, swallowing and finding sweat to dabble at his hairline. “N-No matter the reason… You know…. th-that your dad had.” Leo cut him off before he could finish, “But it was a good reason.” False certainty in their voice, they looked on for confirmation. Trying to protect Leo as best he could, he tiptoed nervously around lying, offering only empty statements. “I-I’m sure your dad does his best.” It didn’t feel like a lie, at some point Octavius’s best doubled as most people’s worst, but he was never one to throw his brother under the bus in an attempt to preserve the relationship Leo idolized. He’d never had that with his own father. 

“Soren isn’t sure.” Leo looked back at their best friend daringly, wondering if they were as unrecognizable as Soren felt right now, worrying if they were as unrecognizable. A frown weighed on the corners of their lips, waiting for Soren to dispute their statement, hoping he would so the gross feeling in their tummy would cease. 

It would have been easy to put a spotlight on Leo’s use of the word “was”, he was here. To twist the knife on Octavius’s allegedly good reason for leaving abruptly and without a single goodbye. But the goal wasn’t to prove Leo wrong, which at this point was synonymous with hurting them irreparably. It was to be seen. Soren’s goal had always been- would always be just to be seen.

“Of course I wanted him to be!” Leo might not have been yelling but Soren was close. His voice struck a higher pitch, as it did when he was struggling to feel important in a room full of people, drowning in an all too familiar sensation. “Do you think I like seeing you like this? Or like you are any time your dad comes up like you’re holding your breath even if you’re saying something good about him?”

Soren only became aware of his volume when Phineas spoke, from being forced to draw a comparison. He wasn’t any less hard on himself when stacking himself up against an entire adult but why wouldn’t he be when there was a particular adult standard that he was made to think he had to meet all this time? Soren took a deep breath even if it was of little avail. He had to at least try to be collected and show Phineas he wasn’t a completely reckless and emotional teenage fool. He was a small adult, he always had been. 

It was puzzling to see the encounter between Phineas and Leo, to see Leo go on so defiantly, so convinced on their father’s behalf. But at the same time, it was relieving. To see Leo stand his senseless ground even against Phineas meant that it was a powerful force, it was something primal and strong because of course, no less could come between them. No less could cause a rift and a battle like this. Previously, Soren thought their friendship could move the earth but to know it would be threatened only by an earth-shattering force was good enough. 

It didn’t even register properly that Phineas had insisted his brother was trying his best until Leo asserted that Soren didn’t see it that way. He was frozen for a moment, two, maybe even three. Of course, he believed Leo’s father was doing his best, why wouldn’t he? He was surrounded by men doing the best with the tools they were given, men feeling out the boundaries of their capabilities and hovering there even if it wasn’t enough. Because that was the point, wasn’t it? Just because they were giving all they were humanely able to didn’t mean it was good enough. Just because Octavius was trying his damndest did not mean he was good enough. 

But there was no way to put all of that into words without revealing his own cards right then and there in front of Uncle Phineas, so the entire explanation stumbled and choked to a halt in Soren’s throat, and what came out instead, was a measly, “That’s not true.”

Detlev had been making his way to Sloane from across the bar for a while, but the curse of being him was that a different conversation with different people caught him every couple of steps. When he finally managed to approach it was to take a seat by her with a, “Hey, hey.” Setting his drink down he added, “Hope you’re having as decent a time as someone can in a team bar full of strangers. It is home away from home but we never promised anything fancy.”

chelstmrangst​:

Soren’s intentions were in the right place, and his ability to push aside his distaste for Octavius in support of Leo was not only mature of him but the strongest proof of how much he clearly cared for them. For the freshly sixteen year old, however, this didn’t register as such. Blinded by their own hurt and inner rage, that same aggression and recklessness that landed them counseling sessions at Hogwarts, the last thing they wanted was to be told sorry. Regardless of whether or not it was what they needed. Sorry felt like they had something to be upset about, it implied their father had made a mistake, it implied their father had wronged them, and this was something Leo had an incapability of understanding. What made sense was that parents were not supposed to wrong you, and Leo had spent the majority of their teens making excuses for Octavius. Having to come to terms with it now, face steamed by the fresh pancakes below their nose, wasn’t an option they favored. 

Belatedly, though not aggressively, they pulled their hand from Soren’s. “Why?” They replaced the tender, caring embrace of Soren’s hand with the cold metal of a butter knife. Their knuckles whitened at the tightness of their grip, taking a sharp breathe before haphazardly cutting into the dough. “I’m sure he had a good reason.” The inhale through their nose was accompanied by a sniffle, and they kept their eyes on their plate, unable to look at anyone. “Right Uncle Phin?” Phineas was quiet for a moment, the weight of lying and defending his brother for so long sitting heavy on his chest, he was exhausted and much too old for this anymore. It was hard to imagine Octavius had years on him. But he only ever did it for Leo. “I’m s-sure he did, Leo.” He preoccupied himself with opening the cabinets, only to check if everything was in it’s rightful place. “He didn’t say why he left?” Leo’s eyes trailed up slowly. “Nevermind.” They realized they weren’t entirely sure if they wanted to know the reason, lest it ruin the illusion they’d concocted in their head. “Whatever.” 

When Leo’s hand went missing from under his, Soren felt a keen sting in the tightest spaces of his chest. He didn’t like to grow emotional and responsible for the wellbeing of others. There was no in-between for him in this field, he was either the baby of the family who was hushed by Detlev because he didn’t have a place in pacifying shouting matches between his middle brother and father, or he was the one his mother held tightly when she felt most alone in her house full of cursed Diederichs. He was never taught to be comfortable being sensitive and so he didn’t care for it, but he extended that part of himself to Leo, as he would any part of himself at any given moment on any given day. 

To feel the hand leave his made him wish he knew how to apparate. What words were exchanged after that simple motion were a blur, it was all a blur until the bubbling tension in him frothed from his mouth. “Why? Because your dad was supposed to be here and he isn’t,” Soren grated out instantly, his breath still caught where the invisible force between his ribs was pinning him down. “And you wanted him to be and I wanted him to be because you wanted him to be. That’s why.” Soren spared a glance up towards Phineas, who he was sure thought he was speaking out of turn but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. Why was it that Detlev thought he was speaking out of turn when he was just trying to help his family settle down and find ease? Why was he not grown enough then but grown enough when everyone else was missing for people to lean on?

Rejection from Leo, as it turned out, hurt more than any force Soren had felt before in his life. It didn’t occur to him to be selfless and think rationally anymore that his friend was hurting, he could only think that he had never been hurt by his friend before.