#AND GOD this morning I WAS JUST thinking “i don’t really want to remember 18th december like that.. can we give this date a new meaning pls

[napoftustar]

why did he goㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ

[barzzal]

between halls and thin walls → part two

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(

↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!

note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.

To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.

“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.

Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.

“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.

“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is. 

Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.

‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.

“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.

“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”

He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself. 

“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.

Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.

“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards. 

So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier. 

“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess. 

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones. 

Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.

“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.

“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.

You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.

Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?” 

With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. 

“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”

“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage. 

“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?” 

Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.

Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse. 

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”

Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.

“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.

“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.

“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life. 

“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.

“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you. 

“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.

You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.

“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand. 

You were fucking unbelievable.

Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning. 

“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.

With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.

Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth. 

“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water. 

“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.

“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?” 

“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.

“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.

Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong. 

“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go. 

Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.

You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.

That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you. 

Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him. 

Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily. 

You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.

“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.

You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over. 

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table. 

𖥸

If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice. 

He was just that damn good. 

As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that. 

It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself. 

You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning. 

You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 

With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on. 

The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back. 

Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly. 

“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.

You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”

They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice. 

You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know. 

In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.” 

“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more. 

Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods. 

“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom. 

“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice. 

You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.

𖥸

“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek. 

Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed. 

“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.

The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest. 

Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.

The Proposal, to be exact.

You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad. 

The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together. 

Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times. 

Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.

Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring. 

Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.

When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere. 

Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”

“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch. 

“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.

You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.” 

Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.

Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out. 

Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention. 

Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.” 

Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction. 

“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief. 

Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.

You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek. 

Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye. 

Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.” 

Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way. 

Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible. 

A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”

“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.

You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.

“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.” 

Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.

𖥸

“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say. 

Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes. 

Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him. 

What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you. 

Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it. 

However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.

All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it? 

That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.

Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.

A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door. 

“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.

“Hi.” 

“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.

Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”

You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being. 

“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.

To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”

Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame. 

You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.

Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze. 

Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more. 

“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.” 

Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.” 

“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself. 

“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him. 

Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head. 

He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”

There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air. 

Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.” 

You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself. 

The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end? 

A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: A Festive Day in the Life of Dan and Phil!

Date video was published: 12/20/2014 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 254

The 2014 DITL video! The last one had been back in August 2013. This is my absolute favorite DITL and probably one of my top five DNP joint videos of all time. Get ready for me to have way too much to say about it.

0:00 - sleepy morning + quiff Phil! We’ll see a surprising amount of that in this video.

0:05 - “almost a week till Christmas,” so they must have filmed this just a few days before it was posted

0:25 - no waking up Dan in “his” bedroom like in the first two DITL. Hmmm...this scene doesn’t seem staged at all...especially since Phil’s laptop is already open on the arm of the sofa. Unless he just left it like that overnight.

0:37 - love that the other advent calendar on the mantle in the one they made. 😂 There are 18 of the doors opened on it, so they’re probably filming this on the the 18th or 19th of December.

0:47 - they both jump into doing the theme music as soon as Phil says “titan”

0:57 - that is pretty late for them to be putting up the decorations! Phil looks sad about it too.

1:01 - sad tinsel. I think Phil had the silver piece in the background in his last video. And the little WALLE in the background here, from all the way back in PINOF. 🥺

1:17 - this domestic insight, just 😭😭😭

1:26 - full circle back to the first DITL video. I wonder if they watched the previous DITLs before filming this one.

1:41 - so many mugs.

1:48 - Dan did not want that one because it was very hard to actually drink out of as he discovered in DITL London. I really bet they did watch the previous ones shortly before this...so many references back!

1:55 - awww, happy warm Phil

2:13 - such a dramatic sigh but he goes to get it anyway!

2:25 - well that is a terrifying way to burn a tealight...put it on a dish!

2:33 - I love that there is no explanation for this in the video. Phil is superstitious about new shoes on the table, which they had both tweeted about before.

2:40 - Dan fashion show and an encouraging Phil

2:47 - immediate smile when Dan notices Phil there

2:56 - why does Phil looks SO GOOD in this clip. also, as usual a weird/slightly horrifying poem from his brain.

3:02 - love that they both decided to wear holiday jumpers. They also wore these same ones for their December radio show. Also the Dan lean-in 🥺

3:12 - PJ tweeted about this DNP visit!

3:27 - this whole leaving scene is possibly the most domestic part of any video - the candle argument, the coat adjustment, the stop in the bathroom to check their hair, Phil checking to make sure Dan has keys, the spider checking and joking... I mean.

4:13 - more throwback conversation to DITL London

4:35 - so glad he chose not to lick his hand. Even more horrifying in 2021.

4:40 - Dan talked about this and falling up the escalator in What not to do on Public Transport

5:00 - “bit corporate isn’t it?” but caves immediately because Phil wants to. 

5:10 -  Love that Phil orders while Dan finds a table. Love that Phil makes Dan draw something happy not just a sad face. Love Dan’s huge smile after that.

5:33 - Dan really can’t say much he was reading his phone in the clip right before this!

5:58 - Dan’s talking about this weird incident that Phil posted a clip of on LessAmazingPhil

6:18 - they always go to at least one nerdy shop in the first DITLs!

6:36 - the things they choose to zoom in on in this shop...Dan with Spiderman’s crotch a few seconds before this and now Phil on the shirtless guy book cover. subtle, lol.

7:29 - I had actually heard of this board game prior to this video because Wil Wheaton did a TableTop episode. I remember being so surprised to see DNP wanting it!

7:39 - Phil and his weird people encounters. 😂 And Dan just mocking him for it.

7:59 - they did, in fact, go to see Matilda the next summer.

8:10 - oh my god this clock scene. Of course Phil wants to make a game of it. And then Dan with the seemingly slight fudging of what he was pointing at. And this look and then both of them giggling. 👀

8:32 - that start of Dan’s running! This is around the time or shortly after he had started to see a therapist (according to the timeline he gave in Daniel and Depression), so thinking he probably wanted to start for his mental health.

9:11 - Dan talks about the “guy wearing the white sheet in Manchester�� in What not to do In Town. Their reminiscing faces are too much.

9:19 - Phil is so excited about this. He had tweeted a couple times in the past about Moomins (1, 2)

9:37 - the excitement about the treats and the festive drinks and decorations and Phil’s teasing 😭

10:04 - they film fairly often in the back of cars and I just feel like must be so awkward, but it doesn’t seem to bother them. And Phil’s hair is quiffed again!

10:28 - and the stairs song! Which they are too prepared for so it must be a regular thing they say/sing. This video has SO MANY moments that I love.

10:51 - Phil just sitting while Dan hauls the tree box out. Maybe Dan lost rock-paper-scissors.

10:59 - reminiscing about THE TREE now, which is the last time they decorated on camera

11:09 - why is this a common theme in DITLs!? lol. Love that they’ve lit the candle again after getting home.

11:22 - “stop doing that” as he can’t control his giggles. sure.

12:03 - okay, Phil had to go get the other decorations! The “Christmas faces” are slightly horrifying

12:22 - that is the most horrifying. also, Dan and Phil themed toys/decor even in the bathroom.

13:02 - Dan’s little messed up piece of hair in the back is so cute. Also love that they have the garlands up and everything at this point too.

13:19 - even more quiff-Phil!

13:31 - their fridge contents are not great

14:04 - unexpected filming but a huge grin anyway from Phil. Also, how do they make just answering the door so awkward, lol. Also: what is that picture in the background in the bathroom(?)

14:32 - they’re so excited about this set up and dinner plan

14:43 - and now glasses Phil! Also, arguing about wrapping neatness. I love it. Although when we see Phil’s wrapping in a minute, I think I might agree with Dan...

15:03 - PJ will end up with one of these face banks

15:10 - Phil came up with some decent gifts for Kath this time, although he didn’t think she had good ideas.

15:18 - I find it so cute that Dan wants to keep the cookbook

15:30 - Dan looks almost embarrassed to share this. He’s also got something “12 Days of Christmas” themed in that blue box on the chair. Although apparently a lot of his family just wanted money.

15:37 - I have no words for Dan filming this closeup and then them choosing to keep it in the video.

16:16 - Phil’s trying to be all serious with his wrapping tutorial and then the tape just immediately falls. 😂

16:40 - “it’s endearing” Dan does look pretty endeared, lol. Dan’s concerned because the face banks are actually gifts from both of them, at least according to PJ

17:04 - wow, Vine mention

17:25 - Dan’s just expecting Phil to come up with a great pun on the spot. Also, the lobster thing is an old reference.

17:39 - I think I mentioned this in the last DITL post, but I like that we do see even in a short video that they spend some time alone. That’s just so normal, especially for introverts even when you’re that comfortable with someone.

17:45 - Phil will keep reading that book over the holidays

17:48 - we did see the inside of the chest. So what is Dan implying here, lol.

17:52 - well then. Dan’s giggly face though.

18:08 - soft piano Dan 😭

18:25 - Ariana Grande had sent them both cat ears after they met her for the radio show

18:37 - a glimpse at the early gaming channel set-up.

18:46 - we don’t actually see that footage in the gaming video

18:51 - it must be pretty late at night by this point considering it was dark when they came home 

19:15 - Phil’s first instinct is to throw it of course

19:18 - this face and the sweater paws. I can’t. 😭

19:25 - and of course a joint ending. 

19:40 - Dan is so sleepy and happy seeming here

20:13 - awwww 🥺 The last video of 2014!

One difference from the first two DITL is they don’t even pretend that they’re going to see other friends/invite someone over. Just the two of them hanging out and they seem quite happy with that. This is probably the most “domestic” of the DITL videos. I love it so much.

Phil went to his parents’ on the 23rd to celebrate Christmas. He had Swedish food, was very excited as usual, got a stocking with a toothbrush and animal socks, and watched Guardians of the Galaxy. Dan went to his family’s on the evening of the 24th after a candle incident (lol, though I love that he was burning the candles even without Phil there. He started the tradition of yearly Christmas pictures of Colin. And also posted this.

On to the 2015 videos, and the start of the TABINOF/TATINOF era!

[bro-ken-spoon]

Percy Jackson Birthday Fic

Hey guys! I know I'm coming in just under the wire here, but it's once again August 18th, meaning it's once again Percy Jackson's birthday! I've written a little fic for the occasion!

Because it's me, it's a sickfic! Content warning for nightmares, and spoiler warning through the Heroes of Olympus series!

I will be posting this concurrently to AO3, but you can find it right here under the cut! If you like it, consider reblogging it or leaving a comment on ao3! Happy Birthday Percy!

Percy’s still in bed when Annabeth knocks on the door to the bedroom.

“You ready? You’ve got about fifteen minutes.” she calls through the door, and Percy just groans and rolls over. He forgot about his birthday dinner. It was too late to cancel, his mom and stepdad would be so disappointed. It doesn’t matter that he feels miserable, he’s got to get up. When he doesn’t give an answer, Annabeth opens the door. “Percy, it’s time to-oh. You’re still in bed.” She walks closer to him, and he closes his eyes. He feels Annabeth’s soft touch on his cheek, and she gasps slightly. “Oh.” she says in a small voice, and Percy’s not sure what that means, but now her hand is gone. That sure isn’t what he wanted.

He keeps his eyes closed. It does keep the headache down, and it stops him from feeling quite so nauseous. He can only sense Annabeth in the room by her footsteps pacing back and forth across the foot of the bed.

“Hey, Mrs. Jackson,” she says, and Percy knits his eyebrows a little. Not only does the sound send a bit more pain through his head, he also wonders why Annabeth might be calling his mom. “I just went to check on Percy to make sure he was getting ready, and he’s running a fever. Maybe we should postpone dinner until he’s feeling up to it, maybe next week just in case? Yeah, I can change the reservation, don’t worry about it. Yes. Yes, I promise I’ll update you every hour. Of course. Actually, yeah, I’ve got enough for tonight but if you wanted to drop by in the morning I’m sure he’d like that. Yeah. Alright, see you then. Alright. Bye.”

Annabeth’s footsteps move closer to him. He feels the same cool hand, this time on his forehead. She moves her hand, which makes him sad, but she plants a kiss there instead, which helps. She leaves the room and returns quickly.

“Hey, babe, do you think you can sit up for me? Just real quick.” she says. He wants more than anything to not move, but he can’t defy Annabeth, not when she’s asking so sweetly. He opens his eyes to see her worried face, and she helps him sit up. She sticks a thermometer in his mouth, which is a surprising sensation, but then she sticks a cool rag on the back of his neck, so he forgives her. When she takes it out, she makes a little sound of distaste. “This must’ve come on fast, huh?”

He doesn’t answer, just takes the medicine she sets in his mouth and a sip of the water. She helps him lay back down, and he drifts to sleep.

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

Percy is in pain.

He’s on fire. His body is shaking. He’s on his knees, chained to a wall, wheezing. The air smells and tastes distinctly like Tartarus. That must be where he is, he decides. He never really left. Except he can’t find Annabeth. She’s not next to him. Maybe she made it out. Maybe she...no, she must have made it out.

She’s not there, but he is. He tries to move against the shackles, but it hurts, and he can’t get them free. There’s no water around, no water that wouldn’t also kill him, so he really feels backed against the wall this time.

He blinks, and suddenly Nyx stands before him. He recognizes her easily enough, and she has a wicked smile on her face. He sees darkness. He sees Annabeth, scared, stumbling around as she screams that he abandoned her. He sees his friends, lying dead from a war that didn’t need to happen. He sees his mom, flailing for her life, being squeezed by the giant fist of a minotaur. Anger wells up inside of him. He tries to use that strength to break the chains, but it only leaves welts on his wrists as they start to bleed from the force against the cuffs.

The goddess hums, a deep, discordant sound that rivals that of a dying whale, and Percy screams, the sound drowning out his will to live. The heat seems to rise around him. He was already on fire, but now it feels like the thermostat has been turned up to 6,000 degrees, which he’s pretty sure is bad in Fahrenheit AND celsius.

After the sound, Percy begins to see more scenes. He sees Luke, writhing with Kronos’s spirit in him, as he takes his own life, the blood spilling out onto the floor of Olympus, signaling a new era but also the loss of a friend. He sees Silena, her dying breaths spent believing she was a traitor when Percy only saw someone who wanted to do the right thing. He feels how his gut sank and his heart pounded when he realized that Beckendorf couldn’t survive the fall into the water the way he could. He feels the grief realizing Bianca had sacrificed herself to get them out of the junkyard, the weight of her death and Nico’s loss making him stagger even now.

“Stop, please.” he breathes out. Each wave, each reminder of a friend he’d never see again punches him in the gut. He’s sweating, the air is getting tighter around him, and he doesn’t think it’s the emotional pain. Nyx is doing this to him. He has to break out of it, to fight it, but he doesn’t have the strength. “No more.” he pleads, his voice hoarse and shaky. He realizes he’s been crying, and the tears are still streaming down his face.

Then, he sees Annabeth. He doesn’t remember Annabeth dying, so he knows he can’t take this one. If he doesn’t remember it, he must have repressed it. That must be why she wasn’t with him.

“Percy?” she asks, her voice full of concern as if he’s the one who’s in trouble. He can’t get a word out other than a simple, feeble “stop.”

She walks towards him and puts her hand on his cheek. It feels so good, so blissfully cool and real, that he whimpers.

“Oh, gods,” she says, cursing in Ancient Greek as she walks away. He doesn’t want her to go away. As soon as she leaves him, she’s going to die, and he has to watch. He lets out a strangled cry, which turns into a retch.

He leans forward, trying to catch his breath. He’s not sure what’s bringing it on, but he can’t breathe. The scenes he was forced to watch? The thought of Annabeth dying?

“Shit, Percy!” Annabeth exclaims, coming back over to him.

She puts an arm around him, and he wants to explain to her that he can’t leave even with her help, but somehow he’s moving, leaving Tartarus and everything behind.

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

When Percy fully wakes up, he’s in a bedroom.

It takes him a minute to realize he’s in his own apartment, not the actual hellscape that is Tartarus.

“You with me this time?” Annabeth asks, and Percy takes a second to breathe deeply before nodding gently. “Good. I was afraid I was going to have to haul your ass all the way to camp to get some help.” She says it jokingly, but it’s clear to Percy that she genuinely was concerned.

“I just had a nightmare, that’s all,” Percy says, but Annabeth gave him a look. They both knew that nightmares for them were never just nightmares.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Annabeth asks, sitting on the side of the bed. Her stormy grey eyes fill with worry, and it makes Percy’s heart clench. It takes him a second to respond.

“It’s never going to go away, is it? I mean, after all we’ve seen, is there even such a thing as a peaceful life?” Percy asks aloud, but he can’t expect Annabeth to have an answer. Even in her seemingly infinite wisdom, she doesn’t always know the right thing to say.

“No, Percy. It doesn’t go away.” she says.

“Oh, good,” Percy says sarcastically, “Just what I wanted to hear.” Annabeth smiles at him, and though he doesn’t see much to smile at, Annabeth’s smile has always had that effect on him. She rolls her eyes.

“It doesn’t go away, but it gets better. We’ll keep making good memories, keep having good experiences, and someday, the good ones will outweigh the bad ones. Like, y’know how we almost died like once a month as preteens?”

“No, I seem to have forgotten that.” Percy’s sarcasm knows no bounds. Annabeth punches his arm gently.

“Well, we did. But, you also remember that time the whole camp baked you a birthday cake? And that time we kissed under the water? And the campfires, and friendly capture the flag matches? Basically, what I’m saying is, of course there are going to be bad times,”

“Like the dying,”

“But there will be good times too. And those are what makes it all worth it.” Annabeth finishes despite Percy’s interjections.

“I get it. It’ll get better and all that,” Percy says, but he really is serious. “Thanks, Wise Girl.”

“Of course, Seaweed Brain,” she says, tousling his hair. He leans into the touch. It’s comforting. “Now get some rest.”

He’s asleep before she even leaves the room.

[secret-ssociety]

Behind the scenes

Pairing(s): Aaron Tveit x Reader, Les Mis (2012) cast x Reader

Warnings: This is just fluff. Like one curse

Summary: It is never intended for Enjolras and Eponine to fall in love in the original story, but a lot of things can happen when the cameras are turned off

A/N: I know everyone is waiting for more of the Let Me Down series but I have wanted to do this for a long time bc I am utterly in love with this man and I've always said I don't want to just write Peter Parker's stuff. Might make this several parts, who knows, I like things with parts.

masterlist

requests are open!!

For the first time in the whole day, silence fell upon the set of Les Mis, being only vaguely interrupted by the quiet chatter of everyone else who, unlike you, still had energy to talk. It's not like it was your fault, though, you had no idea of how much running around implied to play Eponine.

Huddled in a quiet corner of what had been built to be the Café Musain, you pushed your knees against your chest and hid your face between them, hoping to catch some rest before Tom decided he wanted to do a scene again. Was it maybe two in the morning? Three? You didn't even know anymore, you weren't allowed to carry a watch around your wrist and your phone was charging in your trailer, but the last time you had checked it was midnight and that had been a few hours ago.

Doing a movie, you had come to learn in your first few days of filming, was quite different from putting up a show. Interacting with your surroundings, going over scenes and even directing your eyes to a certain place while saying your lines was a world away from your common place on stage. You'd had to repress a loud squeak on your first day on set when you saw just how real everything looked, and when you started to try on your garments... you might as well have been a street urchin on Paris, 1832.

A small finger touched your shoulder timidly, waking you up from your fragile sleep and making you lift your head from its place. Your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the light and you even had to squint a little to recognize Daniel standing next to you, looking just as tired, but with a small flame of caffeine dancing in the back of his eyes. Who the fuck gave the kid coffee? You wondered.

"How long do you think they'll keep us here?" he asked sitting next to you. From all your cast mates, Daniel was probably the first one you had grown fond of, but then again, so had everyone.

"Maybe not much longer, unless they want us to be here at noon tomorrow," you answered raising an eyebrow. Being the youngest person on the whole set, you could tell he was trying to hold his own like the adults, drinking coffee and doing his best to stay awake.

The problem with that, you knew, was that caffeine reacted differently on kids and adults: when an adult drinks coffee, it gives them energy for a long period of time, the caffeine is distributed in order to serve the body for good while. When a child drinks coffee, on the other hand, the caffeine gives them a rush of adrenaline that gets them jumping up and down and running circles around the adults, very much like Daniel was doing a while ago, thus burning all the energy they had acquired as fast as they had engorged it.

"You want to rest for a minute?" you asked him, stretching your legs so that he could rest his head on them. He shook his head tiredly, but didn't put up a fight when you grabbed his shoulder and started to lay him down.

Softly, you caressed his hair, while carefully trying to undo the tangles the dirt had made onto his hair to give him that street gamine I-live-in-the-elephant-of-the-Bastille look. In a matter of seconds, he was fully asleep, snoring quietly against the fabric of your skirt.

You heard some of the boys approaching, laughing loudly with cups of steaming coffee on their hands, and were quick to lift your finger up to your lips, to let them know of the resting boy that would be quickly awaken by their laughs. They apologized in whispers, handed you the cup they had brought for you and sat around you.

"Helena is trying to convince them to let us go to the hotel," Alistair commented, although he didn't look tired at all, more like he was amused by everyone else's exhaustion.

You sighed in relief against the cup, which was held close to your lips, making the steam hit your face in a warmth that made you aware of how cold your nose was. Only one gulp of the bitter liquid was enough to warm the blood flowing through your veins and take you back to life, you could open your eyes properly and the first the landed on was one of the most distinctive of your cast mates: Aaron Tveit.

Was there something special about him that made you think of his full name instead of just the first? Yeah, everything. He was the embodiment of the Enjolras Victor Hugo had wrote, the one that had been nicknamed Apollo by his friends. Maybe it was the way he held himself, somehow taller than everyone else, with that revolutionary fire in his eyes and walking around the set like he was actually going to get the people to build a barricade.

Wherever he happened to exist, you couldn't help but feel the presence of an olden god amongst mortals, the time go slower and light to travel in a bliss. There was just something so ethereal about him...

"He's talent, isn't he?" Alistair commented, having followed the direction of your eyes. "Among other things," Eddie joked, perhaps having caught on on the repressed smitten nature of your gaze. Stubbornly, you rolled your eyes.

As if saved by the bell, your director announced that everyone was allowed to go and get some rest, under the condition that you had to be back the next day before lunch. You were so tired, you almost forgot you were on your costume, being remembered by Eddie when you walked straight to the exit.

Up until that day, you had followed you stylist's skincare routine religiously every day after finishing filming, but once you found yourself in your sweatpants and Alistair's sweater, you simply poured water in your face and wiped all the makeup away with a paper towel.

Outside of your trailer, you found at least half of the Amis waiting for you to go grab some pizza while forming a wall to shield a newly caffeinated Daniel from your accusatory eyes. "I just left my cup unattended for a second!" George said quickly. You didn't know if you should laugh or yell at them, but you decided you were too tired to do either, so you simply took his hands and walk with the boys to the minivans the studio had hired for your transportation.

Eating pizza after having barely washed the makeup off of your face and only having a few hours to sleep after? You knew you were going to break out, but that was a tomorrow's problem.

Perhaps it was the magic that gravitated around Aaron that made you look back to see him, walking several feet behind the lot of you and clearly immersed on his thoughts. What you did next wasn't exactly a conscious decision, but it felt as natural as if it were.

"Hey, Tveit," you smiled, stopping before him. He looked surprised for a second, since he hadn't heard you approach him, but then smiled softly at you.

"Hello, Y/L/N," he said back, looking at you with those piercing eyes of him.

"We're going to grab a bite, wanna come?" You asked with a bright smile, one so cute that made it hard for him to say no.

"I don't know, it's late..." he said with half a smile.

"Did you know that pizza wasn't invented until the late half of the 18th century," you said, persistently, making him raise an eyebrow at the random fact, "that means all of our characters died without having ever eaten pizza. Shouldn't we, in order to honor them, do the things they never got to do?"

Aaron tried as hard as he could to fight back a smile at your argument. He had heard from the other guys about your occurrences and funny yet charming way with words, but he still hadn't had a chance to delight himself with it all too much. Maybe you were both too busy, maybe he wasn't as good as he liked to think to break the ice and Alistair had beat him to it.

He was practically convinced already, but still you added, "come on, Enjolras is still going to be here tomorrow morning... er, today a little less morning." You corrected checking the time on your wrist watch.

He was tired and not really hungry, but sill he nodded and followed you to the exit, where the rest of your friends cheered upon his joining.

Thankfully, the place Fra Fee knew was not too far away from the hotel, because none of you would have managed to walk too much after the day you'd had. Pulling a couple of tables together with the help of a waitress who pretended not to be a little starstruck, all of you sat down and ordered. You personally tried to ignore the way Eddie gave you his sit so that you would end up sat next to Aaron.

After ordering three large pizzas and some lemonade, and having grudgingly remembered that you couldn't order a beer or anything of the sort, you resumed your chattery. You soon found that, while you weren't the only theatre actress on the room, you were the only one who had never been on a film before. Still, that didn't mean your previous work had gone unnoticed.

"I was really excited to meet Y/N," Eddie commented on Daniel's side, "because I went to see her in The Phantom of The Opera, in London and I was" he made the gesture of his head blowing up, making you laugh.

"Yes, I knew I had seen you somewhere! You're Christine Daaé!" George exclaimed, interrupting the bite he was about to give to his pizza.

"Didn't you say on the first table reading that your dream role is Esmeralda, from the Hunchback?" Aaron perked up, making you blush a little.

"Esmeralda, Christine and Eponine," Alistair numbered, only giving you time to nod, "are you planning on becoming the Holy Trinity of French Theater?"

"I'll be able to say the Holy Trinity of French Theater died in my arms!"

You almost spilled your lemonade at the exclamation, unable to contain your laughs, very much like everyone else on the table. You didn't mean for your face to be as red as it was in that moment, but you couldn't help it when everyone seemed to be so interested in your past work. Despite attention being your line of work, you didn't know how to handle it that good.

It was when Daniel's adrenaline burnt off, as you had predicted, and he was found too tiresd to even keep his head up that you came back to the hotel, with the quiet company of Aaron, who had also offered to take the young boy back to his room. You were both in silence, though it was not an awkward one, it just wasn't necessary to talk to enjoy the other's company.

"We're getting a cow," he said suddenly, when you were approaching the entrance of the hotel.

"What?" You asked with a confused smile.

"We're getting a cow, on the set, tomorrow," he clarified grinning, "she will be there for the scenes of the barricade."

"Why would a cow be on a barricade?" You questioned with a laugh, opening the door for Aaron, since he was carrying Daniel, and receiving a little thank you in return. "Not that I'm complaining."

He laughed in return and followed you to the elevator, making sure neither the young boy nor the jacket he had put over him fell from his embrace. The cow thing had just been to start conversation and be able to ask what he really wanted to know, although he was a little pumped up about the cow.

"Do you want to do what Alistair said?" He asked curiously, "About being the Holy Trinity of French Theater, it is."

"I had never thought about it that way, but it sounds quite nice," you answer thoughtfully. "Though, I believe I would have to play Eponine on a stage, rather than a set to really earn that title."

"You're not liking movie making so far?" He asked somewhat amused, specially when you whipped your head to look at him with wide eyes.

"No! That's not what I mean," you talked so fast you nearly stumbled through your words, but the kindness on his eyes made you sigh and calm down. "This has been amazing so far and I would never underestimate the huge effort it takes to make one of these. I mean, I've only been doing this for a couple days and I'm already beyond exhaustion. And yet it has been wonderful, the set and the preparation and just seeing all the work it implies is... unbelievable."

You knocked three time on the door, to see Daniel's mother not two seconds later. Aaron had been worried that maybe she would be concerned and even a little mad at how late her son was coming back, but you had been texting her throughout the extra hours of shooting and to let her know you were going to take him to eat something before coming back to the hotel.

She kindly thanked you both, took Daniel (who was still sound sleep) on her arms and gave Aaron his jacket back, to then close the door. Without saying much, he walked you to your own room, prompting you to continue.

"Where was I? Oh, yeah! So filming a movie is... I'm running out of adjectives, but it's really great," he chuckled slightly, "but I don't think it can top the feeling of being on the theater," you sighed dreamily.

"On stage, there is no take two, the things you're doing can only be done once. There's..." your tongue ran through your lips, an action Aaron found almost mesmerizing, as you tried to find the words to describe the thing you loved the most in the world. "There's this feeling, when the show is about to start, the lights dim, the overture starts and you get goosebumps and you heart starts thumping at the moment you come on stage, there's something about that moment being unrepeatable and having the eyes of the crowd on you, the adrenaline is just... is like the identity line that divides the actor from their character disappears and in that moment you're not quite them, but you're not you, you're just..." you let out a breath at the inability to find the word and, for a moment, you worried you might have bored him with your rambling, but he had that bliss over his face, the one only a theatre actor knows and has, that told you he knew exactly what you're talking about.

The next morning, back on set and with your costumes again covering your backs, Aaron found himself so hypnotized by the sight of you rehearsing with Amanda his tea got cold and was utterly scared when Eddie's palm fell onto his back, dragging him out of his day dream.

"Is this the part when the Phantom is stalking Christine?" George asked jokingly, making Aaron roll his eyes.

For someone who made so much fun of him for becoming Enjolras, he had certainly developed Grantaire's mocking nature.

"She's really talented," the blonde man answered nonchalantly, drinking from his tea and making a face when he found out the drink was cold.

"I see," Eddie said handing him his tea, "are you seeing our dear Y/N under a new light?"

Was he? It would be a lie to say he didn't come back to his room with you occupying every single one of his thoughts, his heart fluttering who had managed to put his passion for theatre in words. Had his hands always became a little shaky around you? Yes. But today it was even worse.

Today, your voice giving life to Eponine's thoughts and emotions could make his cheeks blush or bring tears to his eyes in a matter of a second. Today, you walked around with a strange light over you, one that didn't allow him to look away while, at the same time, reprehended him for staring. Today, you were more than an artist, an actress. You were something more than human.

"Nonsense," he replied stubbornly, "I have always known how talented she is."

Before he could get a sarcastic comment or a snide yet friendly remark, the three men's chatter was interrupted by the two previously mentioned ladies rehearsing The Robbery, one of the scenes you planned on filming that day.

"It's the police! Disappear! Run for it!" Your strong soprano voice cut all chattery in one swift motion. "It's Javert!"

He probably held his breath for as long as you held the note. Once you opened your eyes, you seemed a little embarrassed at all the eyes on you, but Aaron didn't understand just what did you have to be embarrassed about.

Eddie shook his shoulder, "breathe, mate!"

[preciouspeterbparker]

i wish i were, part 2

link to part 1

summary: it’s tony’s 18th birthday

warnings: non-con voyeurism, underage masturbation, underage sex, step-sibling inc*st, angst, fluff (can you believe it???)

word count: 3.3k

feedback is always welcome and appreciated!

enjoy!!

-bloo 

The sharp sound of knuckles on a wooden door, accompanied by a sweet, loving voice he’s known his whole life. "Good morning, sweetheart." 

Peter rouses from his sleep, grumbling at the soft yet incessant knocking on his door. He blinks blearily in the direction of the voice before burying his face in the warm spot on his pillow. "'M up," he croaks, clutching the comforter closer to his chest. "Just...just four...mmm...four more minutes…"

"Peter," comes Mom's soft chuckle as she enters the room. Her slippered feet shuffle along the floor as she makes her way over to the bed. Her fingers card gently through Peter's slightly sweaty sleep-mussed curls. "You wanted me to wake you up a bit early this morning, remember?" Maria laughs again at the grumbling that leaves the teen's mouth in response. She leans down to press her lips to the side of his head in a kiss. “You wanted to help make Tony’s birthday breakfast,” she reminds him gently. 

“Yeah, I know,” Peter yawns, wriggling under the covers for a minute before pushing himself up into a sitting position. The comforter falls to his lap as he stretches, extending his arms in the air above his head and rolling his bare shoulders. “Did we decide what we were making? Chocolate chip waffles? Or blueberry?” 

“Well, I was thinking chocolate chip. But your father,” she says pointedly, as if Richard can hear her from where Peter knows he’s sitting in his armchair with a mug of coffee and staring blankly into space, “forgot to get them when he was at the store. So, how about we go a little crazy and use M&M’s, hmmm?” Her hands go out in front of her in a ‘ta-da’ motion, hazel eyes twinkling playfully. 

Snorting, the teenager climbs out of bed, adjusting the black joggers slung along his hips. He snags a random t-shirt from his dresser and pulls it down over his head. “Sounds good, Mama.” Peter gently bumps up against her affectionately as they leave his room, heading down the hallway and taking the stairs down to the kitchen. 

“Hey Dad,” Peter grins at his father, who is indeed zoned out in the living room and jumps a bit at the sound of his voice. Typical. 

Richard rolls his eyes at Peter’s giggling and sends him a smile. “Morning, Pete. Morning, honey,” he adds on when he sees Maria descending the stairs behind his son. He gets up to follow them into the kitchen, standing behind his wife and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And where’s our legal adult? Already out buying lottery tickets and cigarettes?” He gulps down a sip of his coffee and takes a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. 

“Hush, Richie,” Maria chides, pulling her blonde hair up into a bun and grabbing her apron from its hook by the pantry. “You know Tony’s never up before ten on a Saturday, at least not of his own volition.” Reaching into the cabinet above the stove, she pulls down the flour and baking powder. “Punkin, can you get the eggs and vanilla, please?” 

The teen hums in assent, pulling the carton out of the fridge and sidestepping to the pantry where he narrows his eyes at the racks on the back of the door that are filled with bottles of different spices and seasonings. “I don’t see vanilla,” Peter mutters under his breath. There’s almond extract, peppermint extract, lemon... “Mom, I don’t- Oh, nevermind, found it,” he exclaims with a flourish, brandishing the small red and white box in the air. 

Warm conversation and the sounds of cooking fill the kitchen as Peter and Maria make breakfast, Richard chiming in from his perch at the island. Soon, there’s a large stack of rainbow-spotted waffles on a platter, laid out on the table with whipped cream, dishes of cut up cut up bananas and strawberries, and a bottle of chocolate syrup. 

Richard gets up to pull some plates out of a cabinet and brings them over to the dining room table along with four sets of silverware. “Peter, will you go wake up your brother? Bring him down so we can sing. And eat, these waffles look amazing.”

“Yeah, sure thing, Dad.”  Peter heads upstairs, passing his room and the bathroom before stopping in front of the door that’s across from his. “Tony?” He taps his knuckles on the wood a few times and waits until he hears Tony’s mumbled greeting. Smiling softly, he twists the knob and pushes the door open, leaning on the jamb as he does so. “Wake up, T,” he sing-songs, “it’s time for your birthday breakfast.” He curses the butterflies that have become active and hopes that he looks more casual and less obvious than he feels. 

Peter’s breath catches in his throat once the door is fully open and Tony’s in his line of vision. The now-eighteen year old is sitting up in his bed, lit up by the morning sun shining in through the window on the opposite wall, comforter pooled around his waist. His dark hair is rumpled and wild. Peter fleetingly wonders if that’s what it would look like if he were to run his fingers through it, if he were to pull at it while-

“Mmm, g’mornin Pete-squeak. I was getting ready to come down. Smells so good it woke me up.” Tony raises his arms above his head, stretching, and thrusts his hips up a bit as he curls his bare back. Heat blooms in Peter’s gut at the way his older brother’s muscles shift under his tanned skin, at the thatch of hair under his arms, and it intensifies when Tony’s legs shift as he changes his posture to an arch, dislodging the covers. 

Peter tries his best not to stare at the line of dark hair that goes from Tony’s belly button down into the front of his gray sweats. He’s- fuck, he can see the thickness of Tony’s cock pressed up against the fabric. Fuck, Tony's gotta be at least half hard… Or, God, is he that big soft?

He concludes that the latter must be the case, because Tony slides right out of the bed and shuffles towards him without an ounce of shame. His hand lands on the top of Peter's head, ruffling the already messy curls in his signature move. Peter wrinkles his nose, and almost ducks away from the touch before remembering to take what he can get when it comes to the feeling of his brother’s hands on his body.

"Let's go Pete-squeak, 'm starving." Tony lumbers through the door after grabbing a black t-shirt shirt off the floor and yanking it down over his head, and Peter follows dutifully behind him, the two making their way down the stairs. So what if his eyes are on Tony’s ass the whole way down.

Maria and Richard must have been listening for them, because it seems that the two immediately start singing from their places at the dining room table when they hear the boys reach the landing at the bottom of the stairs. 

Tony promptly rolls his eyes at their parents, but Peter feels himself go a little hot when he notices the pink tinge that spreads over his brother's cheeks. There's a shimmer in Tony's eyes and Peter thinks, not for the first time, that his brother is kind of sickeningly beautiful. He takes a seat across from Mom at the table, Dad to his right and an empty chair to his left. 

“Oh, Tony,” Maria coos once they've concluded their slightly off-pitch rendition of happy birthday, her own eyes shimmering with tears. She wipes them away with a sniffle. “My baby, I can’t believe you’re eighteen! Feels like just yesterday I was bringing you home, all eight and a half pounds of you!"

Tony makes eye contact with Peter before sitting down next to Mom and Peter, across from Dad. “Relax, Mama,” he chuckles, already reaching to stab three waffles with his fork and pile them onto his plate. Once he’s made his (nearly overflowing) plate, everyone else follows suit. “Thanks for making breakfast Mama, you too Pete. Thanks for...offering moral support while they cooked, Pop,” he grins at Richard, making Peter snort. 

“Got any big plans today, sweetheart?”

“Not really,” Tony says around a mouth full of waffle, chocolate, banana, and whipped cream. The groan he lets out is absolutely indecent- or maybe that’s just the way it sounds to Peter as he tries to inconspicuously shift in his seat. “Fuck, these are so good, Momma.” Tony’s eyes are closed, so he definitely doesn’t notice the way Peter’s pupils are blown, nor does he see the long-suffering side-eye he knows both parents are throwing at him for his language. 

 “Well,” Maria continues, taking a bite of her own waffle, “I’m sorry Dad and I are busy, but we’ll all go out for dinner tomorrow night, how’s that sound?” 

Richard nods in agreement, taking another sip of his coffee. “We can go to that Mexican place downtown you guys love so much.”

Tony bobs his head as he chews, reaching over to flick Peter’s ear. “No problemo, I was thinking maybe me and Pete-squeak can hang out today, anyway. And yes on dinner.”

Peter squawks around a mouth full of waffles, swinging his leg out to kick the brunette in the shin, ignoring Dad’s muttered “No violence at the table please, boys”. He screws his face up in mock indignation. “What makes you think I’m not busy today?”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Are you?” The he says it and the twinkle in his eyes feel like a challenge but-

Taking another bite, Peter shakes his head. There’s no use trying to deny it when he purposefully kept his schedule clear for the day in hopes of spending it with Tony. “Nope. I’m all yours.”

*

Tony notices the way that Peter looks at him sometimes, he's not stupid. He just chooses not to acknowledge it. (Well, admittedly, first he noticed the way Peter was around Pepper. His little brother has never been particularly comfortable around people who weren’t family, but this is different. He’s noticed the way that Peter makes himself scarce whenever he invites his girlfriend over (which, to be honest, he usually appreciates because who wants their sibling around when they’re trying to make out with their partner??), or the way he goes quiet whenever she’s brought up in conversation.) If Tony doesn’t acknowledge it, then he doesn’t have to think about the way it makes him feel, the things it makes him think. 

And it works, for the most part. They spent the day binge-watching superhero movies on the couch, dozing off and on. Mom and Dad still weren’t home at dinner time, so Tony had suggested they make spaghetti, for no specific reason other than it’s the only thing he knows how to make. It was nice, jamming to 70s rock and singing along with Peter, talking about everything and nothing at all. They parked themselves back on the couch to eat dinner, choosing some random slapstick comedy on Netflix.

The movie’s over now and Peter just headed into the kitchen with their plates, claiming he had a surprise for Tony. The older teen leans back on the couch, stretching. He notices how dark it is; they’d turned the lights off once they finished eating in order to get rid of the glare on the TV. He debates getting up to turn on one of the lamps when he hears footsteps approaching. 

Peter comes out from the kitchen and walks towards the couch. He’s holding a cupcake in his hands, a red single red candle placed in the center of the blue frosting. There’s a square red-wrapped box tucked up under one of his arms. In the dim lighting that shines in from the kitchen, the small flame reflects in the depths of his brown eyes, face illuminated in the glow. “Happy birthday to you,” he sings softly, eyes trained on the cupcake rather than Tony himself. 

Tony’s suddenly struck with just how beautiful Peter is. He’s never really noticed it before (he has, but he’s been in denial for so long that he’s started to believe the lies he tells himself). His chestnut curls are strewn haphazardly on his head, and though he can’t quite make them out right now, Tony thinks of the freckles scattered over his cheeks and nose. 

“...Happy birthday, dear Tony, happy birthday to you,” Peter finishes, sitting down on the couch beside him. He holds the cupcake out towards his older brother. “Make a wish,” he smiles, shifting the present that’s fallen into his lap.

“Hmmm,” Tony breathes, carefully taking the cupcake into his own hands. “What to wish for,” he mutters playfully, smiling back at Peter. He thinks for a moment before closing his eyes. He blows the candle out without making a wish, but what Peter doesn’t know won’t hurt him. He sits the cupcake down on the coffee table before making grabby hands at the box Peter’s now holding in his hands. “What’s that, Petey?”

“It’s uh,” Peter starts, swallowing. “A camera?” It comes out sounding like a question. “I know you’re leaving soon, for college, and I just- For memories- I don’t want you to...forget me,” he finishes quietly. 

...Tony doesn’t know what to say to that yet he opens his mouth anyway. But before he can get the words out, Peter seems to catch himself and brightens up. 

“And I want you to take pictures of everything at MIT so you can show me when you come back to visit- I’ve never been away from home before, I want to see what it’s like, what kind of fun stuff you get to do. Get some ideas for when I leave, next year.”

Tony tries not to let his feelings show on his face, choosing to let Peter’s first comment go. He gently takes the box from his brother’s hands and unwraps it, pulling out the polaroid camera. “This is so cool,” he grins. “Thanks so much, Peter.” Bumping their shoulders together, he starts to fiddle with the settings. “Help me get it set up so we can take some pics.”

Peter’s grin lights up the room.

***

Peter knew it was too good to be true, that something wasn’t adding up. He didn’t get good things like this. He didn’t get to be happy like he was today. And he had been so happy, happier than he’s felt in months. 

He had deluded himself into thinking that Tony choosing to spend the day with him meant something special...now Peter knows better. He knows that he was just something to pass the time until Tony got to see who he really wanted to spend his big day with. He’d been caught off guard but honestly not surprised when the doorbell rang this evening, followed by Tony’s footsteps rushing down the hall and down the stairs, and he’d quietly closed his door at the sound of Tony’s breathy, excited, “Hey, Pep. Come on in, baby. Nobody’s home, just Peter.”

Just Peter. And that’s the thing, isn’t it? That’s all he would ever be, just Peter. 

Now Peter’s laying in bed, facing the wall that his room shares with Tony’s. His eyes are red and sore from crying, and his lips taste like salt from the snot and tears. There’s a pile of cold, wet crumpled up tissues touching his elbow, tucked up close to his body. He’s bothered by the sensation but not enough to do something about it. He doesn’t have the energy.

Blinking slowly and wincing, Peter unlocks his phone and squints at the bright light in the darkness of the bedroom. 10:47pm. He was crying longer than he thought, almost two hours. No wonder he feels so worn out. He can no longer hear the sounds of whatever movie Tony and Pepper were watching downstairs. He briefly wonders if she went home-

But then two pairs of footsteps are making their way down the hall, and one keeps going towards what he presumes is Tony’s room while the other stops briefly in front of his door. Peter quickly fumbles with his phone to lock it and make the screen go dark, jerkily pulling the covers up over himself to hide his body, leaving only the top of his head exposed on the pillows as he feigns sleep. He just barely makes it before his door creaks open slowly. 

“Pete? You up?” Tony’s voice is a whisper, and Peter desperately tries to control his breathing despite the way his heart is racing unsteadily in his chest. His performance must be convincing because a moment later his door closes softly and he can hear Tony’s footsteps leaving and then the sound of another door shutting. 

"Fuck." It's Tony's voice that Peter hears first. “Been missing you all day, Pep. Kept wishing you were here.” Though muffled, the words are pretty easy for him to make out; they must be on Tony’s bed. (For the first time, Peter wishes that their beds weren’t sharing a wall. He regrets rearranging his room last summer. The sounds he’s heard over the past months no longer seem worth it. He doesn’t want to hear this, whatever it is.) 

A feminine chuckle is what he hears next. “I just wanted you to be able to celebrate with your family. We’ll have plenty of time together in Boston.” Oh yeah. Pepper’s going to Boston too, attending Harvard rather than the engineering school. Peter tries really hard not to think about it, the amount of time they’re going to have alone together. “You’re leaving soon, and I know they’re going to miss you, especially Peter. He thinks you hung the moon, babe, it’s so cute.”

Peter tenses, and if he had hackles they’d definitely be up right now. He feels angry and attacked and seen in a way that makes him want to claw the skin off his body. His fists clench, nails digging into his palms and leaving crescent-shaped indentations in the flesh. 

“...Know what else is cute? You.” He can almost imagine Tony’s saying the words to him, instead. 

It’s quiet for a few moments and he foolishly thinks maybe they’ve gone to bed but then he hears the faint yet distinct sound of wet kisses, accompanied by choked off moans and whimpers. It feels like he’s gotten ice water dumped over him. He picks up on the quiet creaking of the mattress. 

Pepper, high pitched and breathy, trying to keep her voice down. "Tony, yes, yes, right there." More whining and groaning, then-

Then Tony. "Yeah, honey? Like the way I fuck so deep in your pussy? Can you feel me all the way back there?" Peter can’t help but get hard at the sound of Tony’s voice saying the words, even though his heart feels like a stone in his chest. He feels like he’s lost feeling in most of his body, only registering the throbbing in his groin and the tightness in his ribcage. He distantly thinks that he must be dissociating but, maybe not because he’s aware, he- "Love how you're so wet on my cock- so tight, baby, fuck."  

Peter shudders as he spits into his palm and shifts on the bed to turn onto his side. One hand snakes its way under the covers and into his boxers where his cock is rapidly filling out. He strokes himself to the quickening rhythm of the creaking and closes his eyes, trying not to picture what’s happening on the other side of the wall. It doesn’t work, but he doesn’t wipe away the tears that start to spill out from his eyelids. He’s close already, he’s so pathetic-

“Oh, fuck, Tony, please, gimme-”

“Mmmm, yeah baby- God, shit, I’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up- Fuuuck, fuck-” 

With a sob, he cums into his fist at the sound of his brother’s release, burying his face into the pillow to muffle his cries. Peter takes a shaky breath and shakes his head against the fabric to wipe the tears away as the sobs intensify, wracking his body. He's gasping for air that will never come.  

It’ll never be better than this.

[i-just-like-to-see-you-happy]

In Another Life

So this is a bit of a story I wanted to do but will probably never finish. I thought you all might want to see it even though it’s not done. It has a beginning and an end, and a bit of a middle. So you can still kinda get the gist.

The premise is that Luke and Lorelai are plucked from their own timeline  circa "Take the Deviled Eggs" and dropped in the middle of the civil war-era.  November 2003/June 1766-May 1767

Oh and it even has two playlists, because three-years-ago-me was extra: In Another Life (orchestral soundtrack), and In Another Life (thematic soundtrack)

--

She frowned at him. “Luke?”

He nodded at her. “Miss Gilmore.”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“Like what?” He asked.

Lorelai pointed at his clothes. “Like you're the eighteenth century you. Did Taylor finally get to you?”

Luke gaped at her. “Are… are you talking about Taylor Doose?”

She scoffed at him. “Of course I'm talking about Taylor Doose, what other Taylor do you know?”

"No, I meant-" He sighed. "Taylor Doose, town selectman?"

"Yes."

"Of Stars Hollow."

"Again, yes. Did you hit your head or something? Are you okay?"

“Lorelai, look around.” Luke said in a low voice. “What do you see?”

Lorelai rolled her eyes, but looked around like Luke asked. “I see… stables. Horses. Trees. I'm sorry, is there something I should be looking for?”

“How about cars? Power lines? Electric lights? Any trace of technology, anywhere?”

Lorelai frowned. Luke was right. There wasn't anything like that. She even reached into her pocket, where her cellphone should have been.

“Impossible.” Lorelai muttered, and checked the other pocket. “This is impossible.”

“That's what I thought.” Luke said, looking grave. “I thought it was just a dream, until I burned my hand earlier.”

“How did you do that?”

“I was working.”

“You work a lot in your dreams?”

“You'd be surprised.” He muttered. “Anyway, once I got burned and I didn’t wake up, I knew that something was seriously weird.”

“So you came out here to talk to me?”

“No, I came out here cause Rory brought me a message from you, saying that there was a broken door latch that needed fixed, so apparently whenever we ended up, I'm still you're go to guy for repairs.”

“Wait, whenever? As in-”

“Welcome to seventeen-sixty-six.”

--

Lorelai sat heavily on the porch, and Luke sat next to her.

"Seventeen-sixty-six!”

"Yup."

"As in one seven six six?"

"Yes."

"The year seventeen seventy-six?"

"Yes."

“How?!”

“Not a clue.” Luke said. “All I know is, I woke up this morning, and I wasn't in my apartment. Got dressed in the clothes I assumed were mine, went downstairs. Turns out, I own and run a restaurant.”

“Well, somethings just don't change.” Lorelai said. “So, who am I here? Where are we?”

Luke smiled at her. “You’re still Lorelai Gilmore, near as I can tell. You're the owner of the Dragonfly Hotel.”

“I- I... I own an inn?!”

“I thought you’d be pleased.”

“I own an inn?” Lorelai repeated. “What about Sookie?”

Luke shrugged. “Don’t know. Jess only mentioned you.”

Lorelai did a double take. “I’m sorry, did you say Jess?”

Luke nodded. “Yeah, he lives with me. Been living with me for a while, apparently.”

“What about his mom?”

Again Luke shrugged. “Don’t know. I figure that however this happened, if I’m still me and Jess is… well, still Jess, then Liz must not be too different either.”

“So Jess is still… Holden Caufield."

"Dean." Luke said suddenly.

"Or James Dean, sure."

"No, Dean." Luke said, pointing. "Forester."

Lorelai looked up. Sure enough there was Dean. He approached them, and greeted them politely. "Miss Gilmore. Mr. Danes."

"Dean." Lorelai said. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I thought I'd call in on Rory before I got to work. Is she here?"

"No, she went to the bookstore in Litchfield." Luke said.

"Oh. Okay." Dean looked crestfallen. "I guess I'll get to work then."

Lorelai held her tongue until Dean was out of hearing range. "So. There's still a Dean."

"Apparently."

"And a Jess."

"Definitely."

"Wow." Lorelai said. "Wait, you said... seventeen-sixty-six.”

"Yes, I did."

"But Stars Hollow wasn't established until..."

"Seventeen-seventy-nine, I know."

"So, we're not in Stars Hollow."

"Nope." Luke said. "I live in Litchfield, which is about a forty minute walk away from here."

"And where's here?"

"A little place called Harristown."

"Harristown?" Lorelai questioned. "I've never heard of it."

"I'm not surprised. It's on the outskirts of where Stars Hollow is today. Or will be, anyway, two hundred and some years from now."

Lorelai rested her head in her hands. "My head is spinning."

--

"My uncle isn't feeling to great today. He's been a little confused."

"My mom too." Rory said. "It must be something in the air."

"Must be." Jess said. "So, what did you find to read today?"

"Robinson Crusoe." Rory handed him the book. "Ever read it?"

Jess examined the cover carefully. "Parts of it. Never owned a copy, so I haven't read it all the way through. Wanted to."

"You can borrow it when I'm done reading it if you like." Rory offered.

"In exchange for?" Jess asked.

"In exchange for nothing." Rory said. "You said you wanted to read it, and you can. When I'm done with it."

She reached for the book, but Jess pulled it away. "How about if we take turns reading it out loud while we walk? That way, we both get started reading it and we don't have to keep talking."

Rory didn't look happy, but she consented. "Fine. But I want that book back when I get home."

Jess smirked at her. "As you wish."

--

(a flashback to when Jess and Rory met for the first time)

Jess quoted, from memory. "My young Readers, Before you begin the following Sheets, I beg you will stop a Moment at this Preface, to consider with me, what is the true Use of Reading; and if you can once fix this Truth in your Minds, namely, that the true Use of Books is to make you wiser and better, you will then have both Profit and Pleasure from what you read."

Rory stopped, and turned about face. "You've read 'The Governess'!"

Jess shrugged. "A few times."

"I've yet to meet another person who's read it, let alone a boy of your age." Rory said. "I thought you said you didn't read."

He shrugged again. "I said I hadn't read much. But what I have read, I've read a fair amount of times.

Rory set back on her way. "Then you lie!"

Jess jogged along to keep pace with her. "I didn't lie so much as I interpret the question differently than you did. You asked if I read much, I took it to mean if I had read very many books. But given your response, the question you were asking was how much time I spent reading."

"I... I suppose." Rory admitted.

"Then how could I answer correctly a question you yourself failed to ask?"

Rory stopped suddenly once more, and answered slowly. "That's a fair enough question. You have my apologies.”

"I accept." Jess said. "So, did you still want to ask?"

"Since you already know the question I want to ask, then why don't you simply answer it?" She asked.

"Very well." Jess agreed. "I read much of the time, when I'm not studying or working for my uncle. I'd much rather read than do most things."

Rory smiled at him. "Then we seem to have much in common."

--

Lorelai crumpled on the ground next to the hollow oak, not caring any longer if her dress became dirty. She took a shaky breath in, trying to calm herself, but only managed to fall apart even more. She let out a ragged sob, followed by another. And another. She buried her face in her arms, and let herself cry. It was only when someone spoke that she realized that she wasn't alone.

"Lorelai?"

She looked up, and saw Luke. She desperately tried to wipe the tears away from her face, but more fell. Luke said nothing, but quickly moved to sit next to her, and took her in his arms, holding her close. She let him, and opened her mouth to speak, only to let out another sob. She hugged him back, tightly, and he held her closer still as she cried into his shirt. After a while, she calmed, and they stayed like that for a while.

"So how was your day?" Lorelai deadpanned.

"Lorelai, what happened?" Luke asked gently.

She shrugged. "Oh, nothing. Just that 18th century Emily Gilmore is a lot crueler than 21st century Emily Gilmore."

She didn't think that he could hold her any tighter, but he did.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I heard people talk, but... I never thought it would be this bad."

She sniffled. "No, neither did I."

"Why do you think we're here?" Luke said. "Why now? Why like this?"

"I don't know." Lorelai said. "Maybe we did something and pissed off the wrong, sadistic god."

"Maybe."

"There is one good thing here, though."

"What's that?"

"You." Lorelai sniffed again. "Seriously. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here."

"You would've figured it out." Luke said softly. "You're capable of anything, including figuring out how to navigate this crazy, backward place."

She let go of him reluctantly, and looked up to his face. She spoke softly. "You're still the best thing here, Luke."

Luke opened his mouth to speak, but could say nothing. He just looked down at her, still holding her. She was still looking up at him. And slowly, hesitating, she brought her hand up to caress his cheek, and let the other rest on his chest. He moved one of his hands to the back of her neck, and gently pulled her closer, until they could feel each other's breath on their faces. Then slowly, sweetly, Luke kissed her. She kissed him back, wrapping her arm around him once again. They pulled apart, and rested their warmed cheeks together.

"Is this really happening?" Lorelai breathed.

Luke swallowed. "God, I hope so."

"Promise me that if this does end up being a dream, you'll never forget this." Lorelai said, a little louder.

Luke hugged her closer, burying his face in her neck. "Never. I could never forget this."

--

Lorelai woke in her own bed, still partly dressed. She laid there, remembering her dream. Luke, the hollow oak, the stars. Sweet, soft, kisses that comforted her more than anything he could have said.

She opened her eyes, a lump forming in throat. It was just a dream, she thought. Nothing but a dream. Nothing's changed.

She sat up when Sookie came into the room, carrying a tray full of food. "Morning, hon."

"Hey, Sook." Lorelai said.

"How are you feeling?" Sookie asked sympathetically. "You had kind of a rough day yesterday."

"Yeah, I guess I did." Lorelai took the coffee that Sookie offered her. "Hey, how'd I get back yesterday, the last thing I remember I was out in the forest."

"Luke brought you back. You don't remember?" Sookie asked.

"Uh, no." Lorelai frowned.

"I'm not surprised, you were so exhausted. If Luke hadn't offered to carry you up the stairs, you would have had to sleep on the couch in your office. Not very comfortable."

"Uh, no, it would not have been." Lorelai said. "When did he bring me back?"

"Oh, it was late." Sookie said. "He didn't want to walk back to Litchfield in the dark, so he's still here. Did you want to talk to him?"

"Oh, uh, maybe."

"Well, in that case, you eat your breakfast, then we'll get you prettied up." Sookie said.

"Why'd you say it like that?" Lorelai said.

"You should have seen the way he was looking at you."

"Which was how?"

"Like you were his whole life." Sookie said quietly. "He changed his expression as soon as he thought someone was watching, but I know what I saw."

--

Luke felt his heart racing. "Lorelai..."

They met in the middle, hands meeting bodies as lips kissed. Soft, sweet kisses turned hot, passionate, and hurried. Lorelai eagerly tugged Luke's shirt from under his belt, and he stilled her hands, placing his own over them.

"Wait, wait." He said. "Are you sure?"

"Luke." She sighed. "I woke up thinking that holding you in my arms and kissing you would only happen in my dreams. And then I find out, for whatever... inexplicable reason that it wasn't just a dream. And if that isn't a goddamned miracle, I don't know what else is. Now, I don't know about you, but I would very much like to enjoy my miracle."

He grinned at her. "Well, when you put it like that..."

--

(At some point the the storyling, Jess disappeared apparently??)

"You said Jess and Dean came to blows." Lorelai said cautiously.

Luke immediately shook his head. "No. I don't care what world we live it, Dean couldn't- he wouldn't."

"Okay, forget I said anything." Lorelai said quietly.

--

(upon Jess’ return)

"Jess, they dragged the river after you left!" Luke shouted. "Do you know how scared I-"

Luke covered his face and turned around. Jess just stood there. Luke sighed and turned back around.

"Jess, you can't just take off like that." Luke said. "You can't... You just can't. You tell me when you're leaving, you tell me where you're going, so I don't have to think about you maybe lying dead somewhere!"

Jess stood there silent for a few minutes more, before whispering- "I'm sorry."

"You bet your ass you're sorry." Luke said. He sighed, and really looked at him. "Are you okay? You didn't get hurt, you're not sick?"

Jess shook his head.

"Did you find out if your mom's okay?" Luke asked.

Jess shrugged. "She's the same."

Luke nodded, not really surprised. He sighed again. "Come 'ere."

Jess stepped closer, and was surprised when Luke pulled him into a hug, and hesitated a few moments before slowly hugging him back.

"You tell me where you are, okay?" Luke said. "Send me a letter or something, I don't care. Just let me know you're... Let me know you're still alive, for god sakes."

"I will." Jess said. his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry."

--

(After... sometime followed their aforemention... interlude)

"Not here." Lorelai whispered, and took him by the hand. She lead them to the barn.

"Lorelai, where are we going?" Luke said. "What's this about?"

"Not here." She said again.

"What, are you afraid the horses are going to hear?" Luke said.

She glared at him. "No, I just want to talk somewhere private, that's all."

"This is crazy." He muttered, but followed her up the ladder to the hay loft. She laid out a blanket for them to sit on.

"Lorelai, what's this about?"

"Well, you know that thing in history where they'd see if you were pregnant by injecting some of your blood into a rabbit, and if you were pregnant, it would die?"

"Yes." Luke said, completely mystified.

"Well, not to put it too finely, but... the rabbit's dead." Lorelai said.

"Ok-ay?" Luke said. "What rabbit?"

"My rabbit." Lorelai said nervously.

"Your rabbit?" Luke said.

"Yes, my rabbit is dead. It's dead and buried." She sighed. "This was so much easier in 1984, I just showed Chris the stick and he got it."

"What are you talking about, what sti-" Luke's words stopped there, and his eyes got huge as he finally registered what she was talking about. "Oh."

"And there it is." Lorelai said.

"Oh my god." Luke breathed. "You're pregnant?"

"Yeah, I'm- I'm pregnant." Lorelai nodded.

"Oh my god." He said again quietly.

"You keep saying that." Lorelai said. "Is that a good 'oh my god', or a what-have-I-got-myself-into 'oh my god'-"

Luke pulled her into his lap and kissed her. He kissed her lips, and her cheeks and the rest of her face until she was grinning.

"Okay, I'm guessing that it was a good 'oh my god'." She mumbled.

"Very good." He kissed her again.

"So... you're happy about this?" Lorelai asked.

"Yes, of course I'm happy! Aren't you happy?"

"Of course I am." Lorelai said. "And even happier that you are too."

--

(And a heartbreaking return to the Real World)

"Never. I could never forget this."

Lorelai woke, clutching her pillow for dear life. She could remember the whole thing vividly. Her inn, Rory, Dean, Jess.

Luke.

She sat up, and looked around. She was home again, back in the age of technology. She realized she was still clutching the pillow across her belly.

The baby.

She threw her pillow aside and touched her stomach. She knew instinctively that there was nothing there, but still she had to check. She rushed to her bathroom and pulled out the box that she kept there for emergencies, because there was no way she was going to wait to drive anywhere to get them, and she certainly wasn't going to buy them in Stars Hollow.

She already knew what the answer was going to be, and didn't want to look. But she did anyway.

No baby.

No Luke.

Today seemed like a good day to wallow.

(SIDENOTE: not a miscarriage! I realized I that I didn’t make that clear in the text, but I swear, it’s not a miscarriage. Through historical/time travel/dream logic, the baby just doesn’t exist in the “future”)

--

"Never. I could never forget this."

Luke sat bolt upright in bed, reaching out for a body that wasn't there. Once he came fully awake, he sighed. He was back in his apartment, above his diner. It had simply been a dream.

Everything came back to him all as once. Lorelai, the town, Jess, Rory, falling asleep under the stars, holding Lorelai in his arm. Feeling their baby kick against his palm.

Their baby. Their dream life.

Never had he wanted to cry more than that moment.

--

Luke seemed grumpier than usually that morning.

Just Rory came in that morning. Luke wasn't sure if he were more upset or grateful. He went to take her order.

"Where's your mom today?" He asked gruffly.

"She's at home. Something happened, but she won't tell me what." Rory said.

Luke immediately became concerned. "What do you mean something happened?"

Rory shrugged. "I don't know. She said she wasn't feeling good, and called in sick to work. But..."

"What is it, Rory?" He asked.

"It doesn't really seem like she's sick, more like... she's wallowing."

"Wallowing?"

"Yeah, like when you get sad about something, like a break up, and you just stay home, watch movies, and eat junk." Rory said. "But I didn't even think she seeing with anybody."

"Well, she's gonna be okay." Luke assured her. "She always is."

"I guess."

"Ready to order?"

--

Luke knocked on Lorelai's door. She answered, clearly surprised to find him there. "Luke!"

"Hey, I know you weren't expecting me, but, uh, Rory said you weren't feelin' too good, so I thought I'd bring you a care package."

"Thanks, Luke. That means a lot." She smiled at him, somewhat sadly. After a second, she added, "Would you like to come in?"

He did, despite the part of his brain telling him that it was a bad idea.

"So, what happened?" Luke asked curiously. "You just woke up feeling sick, or what?"

"No, nothing like that, I just..." She hesitated. "I know it sounds stupid, but I had this... really, really amazing dream, and- well, anyway, I woke up, and realized the dream wasn't real, and I guess I'm just..."

"Wallowing." Luke finished.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah, I know how that feels." Luke admitted. "Same thing happened to me, too. Been crabby all day."

"Bummer."

"Yeah." Luke said. "Anyway, I'll let you get back to your movie."

"Sure you can't stay?" She offered. "We could be miserable and crabby together."

He smiled at her. "As much fun as that sounds, I gotta get back to the diner."

She smiled back. "Well, thanks for the food. You're still the best thing here."

He frowned at her.

"You're still the best thing here, Luke."

"What did you say?" Luke asked abruptly.

"I said thank you. Did you not catch it the first time?"

"No, after that." Luke said. "What did you say after that?"

"You're the best thing here?" Lorelai said. "What about it?"

"Nothing, I just..." He shook his head. "Never mind. Enjoy your food."

Luke turned around and headed for the door, but hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. He swallowed hard, and walked back into the living room. She looked up at him. "Did you forget something?"

"No, I..." He inhaled, throwing caution to the wind. "Actually, I promised that there was something I would never forget."

Lorelai's jaw dropped. She blinked. And then she blinked again. Luke waited anxiously. He'd expected some kind of reaction. Whether she would just blow the whole thing off, or just laugh, he didn't know, but he certainly didn't expect dead silence.

"Lorelai?"

"The oak." She said flatly, and Luke's heart soared.

"The hollow oak." He said urgently. "Where we-"

"Watched the stars." Lorelai finished, whispering. "Oh my god."

"Lorelai."

Luke crossed the room and kissed her, and she kissed him back fiercely. Luke touched her face, and felt tears. He pulled away from her to look at her, and she placed a hand over her belly. She bit her lip, and looked up at him sadly.

"The baby-" She tried to explain tearfully. "I don't- It's not-"

"I know." He murmured, and pulled her into a tight hug. "I know, I know, I know..."

--

When Rory came home that evening, she was greeted with a completely different Lorelai than the one she'd left that morning.

"Mom, what's-" She looked in the kitchen. "Is Luke here? Is he cooking?"

Lorelai wrapped her arm around her daughter, and lead her into the living room.

"Hey, hon, do you want to hear about my dream last night?"

[finleyfray]

Bittersweet Memories

Part 2

Part 3

Huge thanks to @captain-josslett for helping me with English and making this have more sense

TW: smut(ish) just a little, some angst, laguage, think that’s all!

Finley struggles to open the door to their apartment. She was tired and her head was hurting so much. She just wants to snuggle with her girlfriends and fall asleep.

“Hey.” Fin looks over and sees Alex walking towards her and embraces her in a hug. “You look like crap.” Fin rests her head on Alex's chest and chuckles.

“Thanks darling, I’m happy to see you too. Is Maggie home yet?” She yawns and Alex leads her to the couch. “I have a killing headache.” Fin sits on Alex and rests her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“She’s picking up some food. Did you take your migraine medicine today?” The redhead asks Fin with a stern look on her face.

“Shoot, I forgot.” The black haired woman whines.

“Here we go again.” Alex sighs. “Did you drink water today? Eat anything?”

“Oh come on, don’t harass me like that. Of course I did drink and eat... we had breakfast, didn’t we?”

“That was yesterday, Finley, this morning you woke up too late and ran off to work. Making a huge mess. Leaving your clothes on the floor. And your wet towel in the bathroom on my clothes. I swear to God, how much water did you drink?” Alex scoffs.

“Well...I didn’t see your clothes, I’m sorry. I didn’t drink water... but I’ve had coffee! And a can of Monster! Or two…” Suddenly her girlfriend stands up, resulting in Fin falling off of her. “Ouch! That hurt.”

“That’s not... I swear I’m going crazy with you!” They hear the door open and Maggie coming into the living room looking at them.

“What are you yelling about?” She frowns and looks at Alex, who looks angrily at Fin. “Maggie, I’m glad you’re here.” The redhead says with a smile. “See, our girlfriend here was wondering why her head hurts so much! Fin, care to tell Maggie how you took your medicine this morning, drank plenty of water and ate three meals?” Her voice is full of sarcasm and Finley curses mentally.

“Oh come on. I’m going to eat now, and drink water and take meds, I swear I just forgot!” She tries to defend herself, but Maggie already looks at her with her stern mother look. “Don’t be mad at me.” Fin puts on her puppy face. “Pwaaseee.” She pouts.

“No, no, don’t give me this face, you know the deal. How can you forget to take care of yourself almost every day?!” Maggie growls flustered. “These are literally the basic things in life. You have to eat, and you have to drink water to survive, and you know after that mission where you hurt your head pretty bad, that you have to take your migraine medicine, otherwise you’ll be in pain. And you should remember it, how you keep forgetting to take care of yourself is beyond me.”

“I don’t know...” Finley looks down, because she did know. She wasn’t taught how to take care of herself. In the orphanage they didn’t care if the kids ate something, they didn’t care if they had something to drink, or walked around in dirty, damaged clothes.

So Fin learnt how to go days without eating, only drinking some sink water. It was normal for Fin. So she grew up, was then thrown out on her 18th birthday, and went to college. She didn’t think of that either. Having not enough money to eat every day, or buy new clothes, having to survive on minimum wage that she was earning with her job. It was hard to manage to study and work 16 hours a day, but she had to stay positive. So when Finley started working in the DEO and earning so much money, she decided she had to save it. Save it in case something goes wrong and she loses her job. But, this drove her girlfriends insane. How she couldn’t do the basic thing, like putting her dirty clothes away. How every time she tried to make laundry, it went wrong on some level. She’d mix dark clothes with white. Sometimes she forgot to add laundry detergent. Or she forgot she put the washing machine on but forgot to dry it. So the clothes stayed there until Alex or Maggie saw it. Finley really tries, she does, but it just escapes her mind every time.

“I’m sorry.” Fin sighs, she wasn’t going to tell them, she doesn't want their pity “I guess I’m just getting distracted.” Maggie scoffs, but goes to hug their girlfriend anyway. Soon Alex joins and they stay together for a bit.

“I did buy dinner, so let’s get you some food, and water, then you’ll take your medicine and we can go to bed.” Maggie kisses her softly and Finley smiles into the kiss.

***

Later as they were in bed, after eating and showering, Finley lay on top of Alex while Maggie was still in the shower.

“Are you still mad at me?” Fin asks, looking in her girlfriend’s brown eyes.

“I’m not mad Finnie.” Alex sighs cupping Fin's cheek. “I was frustrated, of course, I will still be when you do this. But I’m not mad.” She kisses Finley softly, her other hand going to Finley’s back holding her close. The blue-eyed woman sighs happily and wiggles on top of Alex to get more comfortable.

“Fin...” Alex breathes heavily “Stop moving.”

“Why, does it bother you?” Finley smiled devilishly, pressing her leg against Alex’s core and moving her hips. The redhead kisses her girlfriend hard and bends her leg so it was now against Finley too. The shorter woman moans at the sudden pressure, and moves her hips faster.

“Oh, I see you’re better.” Maggie stands there watching her girlfriends making out and humping each other for a few minutes. “So I’m glad I decided not to put any clothes on.” Her girlfriend’s stop and looks at her. Maggie's hair was still wet from the shower, and she only had her towel on. “Can you two just be naked already?” She drops her towel on the floor. “That was quite a nice show you did for me. But, I’m afraid I need to cuff both of you for breaking the rules.”

“B… But... “Alex’s face was almost as red as her hair “We didn’t… We still have all clothes on! We didn’t had sex without you!” She looked at Finley, who already had taken all of her clothes off, she sure was ready. “You’re such a bottom!” Alex scoffs, sure the black-haired woman was so ready for Maggie to cuff her, but Alex tried hard to remain her tough face.

“Agent Danvers, I’m afraid I insist.” Maggie smirks at her redheaded girlfriend, swaying her hips as she approaches the bed.

***

Finley yawns as she opens her eyes and looks at the sleeping face of her girlfriend. The redhead was snoring lightly and she looked so peaceful and cute. Fin snuggles closer and rests her head on her girlfriend's chest.

She knew Maggie had already left for work, feeling a cold spot behind her. The blue-eyed woman was tired after all the fun they had yesterday and didn’t want to get up.

“Shouldn’t you be training rookies at work today?” Alex’s sleepy voice asks. Fin gasps as she realises that the redhead is right, she springs from her bed and looks at the clock.

“Ohhhh shit, J’onn is going to kill me!” She quickly undresses by dropping her clothes on the floor and goes for a quick shower. As fast as she can she dries herself and drops the wet towel on the floor, puts on her combat clothes and runs to work.

It was no fun being at work without Alex, but her girlfriend deserved a day off. They were supposed to have lunch together, but after some robbery that Kara helped Maggie take care of, the blonde informs Fin that her girlfriends can’t make it, so the black-haired woman takes care of all her paperwork that is due soon, and heads to the DEO gym to train a bit.

Finley was getting tired from all the punches and running, so she decided to stop and go take a shower. Suddenly she sees a blur and her girlfriend’s sister stands before her.

“Kara, hey, something wrong?” Finley asks as the blonde frowns and looks at her.

“Ohhhh shit. I forgot, I left my phone at home this morning. What’s the time?” Fin facepalms and looks at Kara.

“Well Alex asked me to look for you, cause you didn’t answer your phone. You do know what time it is?”

“Where the fuck have you been!? We tried to call you thousands of times, why didn’t you answer!?” Maggie tries to stay calm, but her voice is full of anger.

“It’s 10:30, and your girlfriends are going crazy, come on.” She lifts the black-haired woman and speeds her home.

“Thanks Kar.” Finley sighs and opens the door quietly. It doesn’t really help her as she sees Maggie and Alex in the hall waiting for her.

“I’m sorry! I was in such a rush this morning, I forgot my phone! And I went to work out after sitting down doing paperwork and the time just flew.” Finley tries to calm her girlfriends, but she clearly saw that they were beyond pissed.

They turn and go to the living room, and Fin follows them waiting for their forgiveness. Alex sits on the couch and drinks the rest of her whiskey.

“Guys, come on, I’m sorry, you know I just forgot-”

“That’s it, that’s exactly it! You always forget. Forget to eat, to drink water, to take your medicine. You forget to put your clothes away, forget to do the laundry, forget to go to sleep! Forget to take your phone, to let us know you’ll be late, to let us know you’re okay! Forget to do the groceries, forget to buy some new clothes, to put your towel away instead of dropping it on the floor!” Alex was standing now waving her hands angrily. “Well maybe you got that from your parents, seeing as they forgot you at the orphanage!”

Finley blinks as Alex suddenly goes silent. Her blue eyes are suddenly wet and she turns around and rushes out of their apartment.

 ***

Maggie looks at Alex in shock. She can’t believe her ears. Alex did not just say that.

“Danvers, what the fuck was that!?” Maggie rushes to the door to follow Finley, and stop her, they need to talk, this is not a good situation. But as soon as she’s outside, Finley is gone, there is no sign of her. She goes back to their apartment and searches for her keys.

“Why are you just standing there like that?! Do you realise what you’ve just done?! That was way too low, I can’t believe you just said that!” Maggie yells at her girlfriend, she was beyond mad. Yes, Fin drives her crazy sometimes, but that doesn’t explain Alex’s behaviour.

“I... I didn’t mean that! It just slipped!” Alex tries to explain herself, but her mind is still processing what just happened. “I didn’t want to say that, I’m sorry!”

“It’s not me you need to apologise to. It’s her, but guess what, she’s gone! And we need to find her, and you really need to try hard, because that, Alex, that was just unbelievable.”

“Where do you think she went?” Alex asked, trying to calm down her nerves. Her mind repeats the words she just said and Alex realises how awful she’d been. But she really didn’t mean to, she wasn’t thinking at the moment, her mouth just shot out the words on its own.

When Maggie and Alex started dating Finley, the younger woman never said anything about her family. Of course the first one she met, outside of them, was Alex's younger sister. With it being autumn, and thanksgiving, she soon met Eliza and Maggie aunt Vivian. And she saw how Fin was in awe seeing how both women cared for their children. When Alex and Maggie asked her about it, she told them that she had spent most of her life in an orphanage, but refused to say any more. So they agreed they’ll just wait till Finley is ready and tell them on her own. This was 2 years ago, but Finley still hadn’t talked to them about it.

And now Alex fucked up, and told her girlfriend, an orphan, that her parents forgot about her. She isn’t sure how Finley is ever going to forgive her. Hell she doesn’t even know if she can forgive herself. Maggie looks at her, and Alex realises that she failed her too. Sure, the shorter woman tries not to give away her anger, but she sees her eyes, and the Detective is really mad at her.

“I don’t know, she doesn’t really have any friends... Kara? No, that would be too oblivious, she probably doesn't want us to find her now, she wouldn’t go there... You think she would go to any of our friends?” Maggie took a deep breath trying to calm herself enough to think clearly.

“No, I don’t think so. She can’t be that far, she just left. You think she went to a motel?”

“No, she hates spending her money. Doesn’t DEO have sleeping quarters?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah... it does...” Alex begins but her phone rings, she answers it “Danvers... Yes, we'll be coming in now.” She ends the call, and looks at Maggie “There’s an emergency at the DEO, your unit has been informed, J’onn said to bring you along.”

“Shit, alright. You’re good to go?” Maggie looks at her girlfriend, remembering Alex had been drinking earlier.

“I’ll be good, you drive.”

 ***

Finley walked to the DEO, trying hard to wipe her tears away. She didn’t want others to see her crying, that would be humiliating, but she couldn’t stop it.

Her mind kept repeating Alex’s words, she was not prepared for a woman she loves to hurt her like that. Why would she, she trusted them with her whole heart. Maybe that was her fault, maybe she should have kept that in mind. By now she would know that everyone in her life ended up hurting her.

It was like every time she was happy, it all came crashing down around her. She remembers the day she entered the orphanage for the first time, she was eight. There were so many kids there, just walking around, those kids were sad, but Fin? She was hopeful, she was actually happy that her father wasn’t there to hit her, she felt safe. But that feeling went away so fast, and her life was still a hell.

“Hey.” Fin jumps at J’onn voice. “You got here fast, where are your girlfriends? We have a debrief in five, we have to deal with this emergency quickly.”

Oh, so there is an emergency. That’s why he’s here. She nods and walks to the bathroom cleaning her face. Fin won’t let them all see her tears, she’s stronger than that. She enters the room and J’onn begins. Normally she would stand with her girlfriends but Fin hangs back.

“Cadmus is containing a shipment of hundreds of alien’s. We need to stop them. The NCPD unit is already informed, but it’ll take them a bit longer to arrive, so Detective Sawyer will go with you. Agent Danvers will be leading. Dismissed.” Finley avoids looking at her girlfriends, and walks as fast as she could to the armoury to prepare for the mission.

“Fin" Alex rushes after her.

“No!” Fin growls. “Right now I don’t have time for your bullshit Agent Danvers. We have a mission and that is my focus.” She didn’t mean to snap at Alex like that, but her sorrow was becoming her anger and she can’t be distracted. Distraction means slower reaction time, and that means injury or death. She wasn’t in the mood to die today.

 ***

The mission was going to plan and Fin kept up her professionalism. But with any mission, things can go wrong. It happened so fast, one second Fin is beating down a Cadmus agent when suddenly an explosion goes off above them. Finley hears the crack of concrete and looks up as a huge block of concrete starts breaking away. Right above Alex. Fin doesn’t think. Her only focus is on saving her girlfriend. Whatever it takes. So she sprints towards the redhead and pushes Alex as hard as she can out of the way. Fin falls to the ground as a huge bang fills the room. Fin tries to gasp when pain surges through her body.

“Fin!” Alex yells as she looks at her pinned girlfriend. She rushes over and is at Fin’s side in a second. “Why did you do that?!” Alex panics and tries to move the concrete to free her girlfriend, but it is too heavy. She looks at Finley, noticing that the concrete didn’t crush her whole. She allows herself to calm slightly. If her sister comes fast enough, it should be okay, Fin has a chance to survive. “Supergirl, come in, I need your help!” But she’s met with silence. “Supergirl! Maggie!?” Alex yells desperately.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” Maggie responds worriedly.

“I can’t reach Supergirl, we’ve had an accident, Finley is trapped!” She hears Maggie gasp.

“I’m coming!” Maggie yells and Alex focuses on Finley, trying to comfort her. Soon Maggie is by their side. Alex looks up at her scared girlfriend and sees her tears as Maggie tries to suppress a sob.

“Fin. Finley talk to me.” Maggie kneels beside their fallen girlfriend.

“Hurts.” Fin chokes out.

“Alex, we need to move it! It’s crushing her!” They try to push it as hard as they can. “It’s not moving! Supergirl, come in! Please…” Maggie begs but she too is met with silence. “Damn it!” she pushes the block again.

Alex sobs and goes to sit behind her girlfriend, placing Fin’s head in her lap and stroking her short hair gently. She listens to Maggie as she yells trying to reach Kara.

“Why would you do that? Risk your life for me?” Alex looks at Finley’s blue eyes, and gently strokes her cheek.

“I... I’ll always save you...” Finley smiles sadly. She can’t feel her leg anymore and she feels dizzy. She doesn’t regret saving Alex, she would do anything to keep her girlfriends safe. But it’s getting harder to stay awake, and Fin doesn’t have the energy to try anymore. She is tired, so tired, she really hopes they would be okay, even without her. “I love you both… So much…” Finley whispers and her eyes flutter close.

“No. No, don’t close your eyes. Come on, Finley, please. KARA, COME ON!”

[songsoomin]

Begin Again Part 2 (A,F)

Word count: Around 6k

Idol! Jongho x Fem Reader, Best friend! Hongjoong. Reader has serious body confidence issues due to a past relationship but Jongho will help her through it. First two chapters will be angst with some fluff but a little smut will appear in chapter 3.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, both emotional and psychological, body shaming, anxiety issues. 

Author’s note: Reader is overweight but not as massive as she thinks she is. She has been conditioned through psychological abuse to believe she is very fat and unattractive. This is not intended to be the kind of story where reader becomes thin and is then happy and gets male attention (although, due to reader’s warped sense of self she does equate being thin with being happy). Even after losing some weight (for her own health and happiness) she is still somewhat overweight and curvy but the more important part is that she gets her confidence back and that is what makes her happier and more attractive. 

Part 1 Part 3

Posted 18th December 2020

@boss-baby-jongho​ Sorry it took so long

It had been a few months now since you and Jongho had been training together and you were much closer. You got on well with all the boys but Jongho was the closest to you now aside from Hongjoong. You still saw Hongjoong alone quite often - he would come over to your apartment and you'd watch movies and talk but you also spent plenty of time with all of them together.

This evening you had just come into the boys' dorm with Jongho after another gym session to the smell of cooking. You looked into the kitchen to find Seonghwa and Wooyoung cooking while Woo pestered the older boy like usual, telling him he was doing it all wrong. Hwa had his usual patient look on his face, completely used to Wooyoung's nonsense.

"Y/N!" Yunho called out in greeting . You could see he wanted to hug you like he usually would to others; he was such a warm, affectionate person but he knew it would make you uncomfortable. He settled for stroking your arm instead. You were getting much better at accepting physical affection from them these days. Hongjoong gave you your usual hug and Yunho looked sulkily at you.

"She'll get there, Yunho, just be patient. You'll get hugs soon." Hongjoong told the tall blue-haired boy and you had to laugh at how hopeful his face suddenly turned. You often referred to them as 'boys' but they were all grown men. You wouldn't think it sometimes, though, with how sulky they could get. Yunho and Mingi could appear intimidating with how big they were but really just loved cuddles, no matter who from. San loved his plushies and Woo was so playful and teasing that sometimes they seemed younger than they were. Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yeosang seemed like the more mature of the group. Jongho was a bit of a mixture; he seemed mature despite being the youngest but he could be pouty sometimes. You were sure, however, that he just used that to get what he wanted. It usually worked, though, you could never deny him anything when he unleashed the full power of his pout.

Seonghwa had made tteokboki - your favourite - and you were all just eating and chatting happily but Mingi seemed quieter than usual and you could feel him watching you during dinner. The drinks had been flowing as none of you had to get up the next day and you felt comfortable enough now to ask him why on earth he'd been watching you so much.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't think you'd noticed."

"You weren't being that subtle, Mingi." You said, amused by his sheepish reply.

"I was just thinking...you always wear such baggy clothes but working out with Jongho must be working because they seem so much bigger on you now."

"You are looking smaller, Y/N." Hongjoong agreed.

"You think?" You asked, you had thought so but with wearing baggy clothes already it wasn't so easy to notice when they got baggier - at least to you...Mingi seemed to see it.

"Definitely." Jongho added, "There's no way my master-level instruction isn't working." You giggled while the others all groaned at his smug evaluation of his talents.

"Well, thanks, I guess...but why do you say so?" You asked Mingi uncertainly, naturally worrying it was something bad that caused him to bring it up. Did you still look that bad? You were hoping all your hard work would make you look better.

"There's nothing wrong if that's what you're comfortable in but I was just thinking it's a shame to hide all the hard work you've been doing."

"What do you mean?"

"Baggy clothes hide your real shape. Some people wear them because they are uncomfortable with their size but they tend to make a person look bigger than they are."

"Oh god, he's on about clothes again." Yeosang muttered.

Ignoring Yeosang's comment you felt your heart drop. Mingi could see exactly what you were doing and - worse - was calling you out on it in front of everyone. You looked down at your food not wanting to look anyone if them in the eye. You felt exposed having your size become the topic of discussion at the dinner table.

"You've made her feel bad, you moron!" Jongho said, glaring at Mingi.

"Calm down, Jongho, we all know you like - "

"Shut up!" Jongho warned, uncharacteristically ill-tempered.

"Well, as I was going to say...don't take it out on Mingi. You know he wouldn't have meant to upset Y/N."

"No! Of course not!" Mingi exclaimed, looking apologetic.

You were certainly confused. You'd never seen Jongho get worked up like that and couldn't see how it linked to what Mingi had said. Maybe what Yeosang was trying to say would've explained it but it was obviously something Jongho didn't want him to say.

"It's okay, Mingi. It's not your fault I'm so sensitive about it. Please continue with what you were saying."

"What I wanted to say is that you should let me take you out to get some clothes that would work much better on you." The brown-haired boy looked excited at the thought but to you even the thought was causing worry to rise in your chest.

"Oh, no. No. I'm no good at clothes shopping. Everything looks bad on me and I just end up crying."

"But..." Mingi continued, "I am very good at clothes shopping and I know exactly what will make you look good."

"You do?" You were still very uncertain about this but the alcohol was making you more suggestible.

"Excuse me? Have you ever seen me in a bad outfit?"

"Here it comes..." Mumbled Yeosang.

"I have never chosen a bad outfit in my whole life. I was born with amazing fashion sense." Mingi declared as the others all rolled their eyes at his overexaggerated claim.

"Uh...I don't know."

"Go on, Y/N... it'll be fun. As modest as he is..." Wooyoung stopped to shake his head at Mingi, "...he does actually know what he's doing when it comes to clothes."

"Okay. As long as I don't end up crying, though." You were already anxious and not really sure why you'd agreed to it.

"If you do it looks like Mingi will have Jongho to deal with." Wooyoung snorted.

In response Jongho stood quickly from the table and stalked down the hall to the room he shared with Mingi. You looked after him sadly. It was horrible seeing him upset. You had no idea what this was all about but it seemed like they were teasing him about something. You looked at the other boys with questioning eyes.

It was Seonghwa who answered your look, "Don't worry, Y/N. He'll be fine, he usually calms down quickly."

Later on when you and Hongjoong were alone in the kitchen doing the dishes you decided to ask your red-haired best friend about it.

"Joong?"

"Yeah?"

"What was Jongho so upset about?"

"Oh...uh...well, I probably shouldn't say anything...but I'm not sure if he ever will."

Hongjoong pondered his statement as he washed another plate. This was not clearing anything up at all.

"I'm not following."

"He likes you." Hongjoong said putting the plate on the drainer for you to dry up.

"I like him, too. He's really fun to be around."

"No, I mean he likes you." Hongjoong emphasised, looking you dead in the eye.

You were stunned. Why would Joongie think that?

"Don't be ridiculous." You scolded him lightly.

"I mean it!" He defended.

"It's not that. He's probably just feeling protective as we've got closer now. No one likes their friends being upset." You nodded to yourself at your more correct assessment of the situation. Anything else was simply unbelievable to you. No one ever thought of you like that. Least of all someone as perfect as Jongho.

                                                     ********

The next morning you woke up feeling just slightly hungover as you'd all continued drinking further into the evening. All except Jongho, of course. He didn't come back out and that really put a damper on your evening. However, you weren't feeling too bad until you remember that you'd agreed to let Mingi take you shopping. You groaned loudly and tried to work out how to get out of it before deciding you'd have to go because you really didn't like flaking out on people.

Noticing the time you quickly had breakfast and showered before dressing as you always did - baggy to hide your shape and size. You couldn't see how it was possible to look better in clothes that actually showed your figure but hoped Woo was right when he said Mingi knew his stuff when it came to clothes.

You were pretty much done when you heard a knock on your apartment door. You rushed over to open it and found Mingi on the other side, smiling brightly at you.

"Ready?" he asked, voice as deep as ever.

"No." Truthfully you were dreading it.

"Well we're still doing it so come on." Unceremoniously, he grabbed your wrist with his big hand and pulled you out the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming..." You laughed, "Just let me lock my door before we go."

                                                  ********

"Y/N...are you ever going to come out?"

"I'm really not sure about this, Mingi."

You were standing in front of the full-length mirror in the changing room, uncomfortable with what was reflected back at you.

"I picked out the perfect outfits for you so I can't imagine what you're not sure of." The tall brunette said matter-of-factly.

"It's just so...tight."

"Exactly. It will show off your figure perfectly."

"Mingi!" You yelled as he suddenly whipped the dressing room curtain back.

"See? You look amazing."

You looked at him skeptically as he smiled widely, appreciating his work.

"You're lying."

Mingi's smile faded and he sighed. "Y/N, you're not seeing yourself clearly at all. You have a great figure...amazing curves." He added, looking you up and down.

"Mingi, are you checking me out?" You joked, "I'm going to have to watch you."

"What?" He said defensively, "You look good."

Embarrassment came over you as you were only joking so you didn't expect Mingi's response. He, however, was not embarrassed and continued on a little more seriously.

"I know you don't think so but it's true."

The change in atmosphere caught you off guard. You'd only ever seen Mingi in a playful mood so to see him turn serious and caring was different.

"Thank you, Mingi."

The brunette smiled in response and you could see that he meant it even if you had trouble believing it. You thanks were sincere, though, because, aside from Hongjoong, you weren't used to anyone offering praise to you.

"You definitely need to get this outfit. It's looks great and makes you look a lot smaller than those awful baggy clothes you wear. Next outfit!"

Mingi pulled the curtain shut while you reluctantly did as ordered and started changing in to the next set of clothes. In truth, though, part of you was excited and enjoying the shopping trip with Mingi. The confidence you once had was buried deep down but you knew it was still there and maybe this could help you find it again. You used to love all the attention you got from boys when you got dressed up and you wanted that feeling back. That was why you let Mingi talk you into getting all the clothes he'd picked out for you.

                                                   ********

A low whistle sounded as you entered the boys' dorm with Mingi pushing you through the door as you'd felt too nervous to go in looking so different to usual. You had tried to turn and run away but Mingi was too big and strong.

You were in the first outfit he'd picked out for you which was a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a top cut lower than you were used to but not too revealing. You weren't used to the way the clothes hugged your curves and felt self-conscious because you were so used to hiding underneath baggy clothes but you could see what Mingi had been trying to tell you. You did look a lot better in fitted clothes than the shapeless ones you usually wore. You looked like a girl again.

You looked up to see that the whistle had come from Wooyoung, who was now appreciating your newly revealed figure.

"It's really nice," the darker-haired male said, "...Mingi, you chose well."

"Don't I always?" Mingi said in response, clearly proud of his work.

Just as you were trying to extract yourself from this new attention a sharp slap on your behind made you gasp and spin around.

"San!" You shreiked at the blonde, who didn't look the least bit sorry.

"Looking good, Y/N."

You really should've scolded him for smacking you but he always looked so cheeky and cute you couldn't really bring yourself to.

"Thanks, San...but don't do that again."

"Why not? In those jeans it looks too good not to." He said, motioning to your bum with both hands.

"She's not a piece of meat, San." Jongho said, annoyance lacing his tone. "And you can't just touch someone like that without their permission."

You and San both turned, neither of you having noticed the youngest's silent entrance.

San looked at Jongho with one eyebrow raised as if he wanted to say something snarky but instead turned to you and said,

'We're friends...it's fine, isn't it Y/N?"

"It's fine but I meant it when I said don't do it again - it really hurt." You gave San a look so he would know you meant it but you really didn't mind that much. You appreciated the sentiment, just didn't like the pain.

Jongho, on the other hand, was not convinced. He looked at San for a moment longer, huffed unhappily, then left the room.

It made you a little unhappy to see Jongho like that. He'd been a little weird lately. Distant. When you were at the gym together he was just the same as always but around the other boys he wasn't the same. He seemed sulky and spent more time in his room. What really hurt most was that he didn't talk to you as much in front of the others.

It's true that with them there, there wasn't as much chance to talk together but after your coffee 'date' he had made more effort to be closer to you - so what had changed now?

Thinking back you remembered the others teasing him and Hongjoong saying  Jongho liked you. Could that be it? You didn't see how; what Hongjoong said couldn't have been true so you had just ignored it. At the gym it hadn't made it awkward between you but was that why Jongho was distancing himself around the others...to stop them from teasing him? Maybe you could try talking to him; he had become a really good friend to you and you didn't want a simple misunderstanding to get in the way of that.

The chance to talk to Jongho didn't come that evening as he had come back out of his room to eat with everyone but there were so many of you that it was impossible to talk alone. You could have gone somewhere private to talk but you didn't want to give Yeosang and Wooyoung even more reason to tease him.

Although you were still worrying about Jongho, you still had a great evening. It had made you a little self-conscious but you had to admit that you liked  being told you looked good and feeling like your hard work was paying off.

Well...the evening was great until Mingi made a horrifying suggestion.

"Hey! Y/N has some really nice clothes now - courtesy of my incredible fashion sense, of course - so we should all go out and celebrate her hard work."

A communal groan was heard around the room at his less than modest statement but, for the most part, everyone agreed.

"What do you have in mind, Mingi?" Seonghwa enquired, ready to put a stop to any plans that sounded too crazy.

"Let's go to a club!" The excitement was clear on Mingi's face but anxiety was creeping on to yours.

"No." You said firmly as they all turned to you to see what you thought. "No clubs."

"What?

"Why not?"

San and Wooyoung complained in unison, obviously not happy with your opinion.

"Y/N..." Mingi looked at you with a pout, "we got you such nice clothes, why do you not want to show them off?"

You shifted on the couch, uncomfortably.

"It's nothing to do with the clothes...it's the people. Too many people. I just don't like clubs."

"Well," Hongjoong interjected, "strictly speaking it's not the clubs you dislike. I remember you used to love going out and dancing so if we chose a club that's less crowded then you should be okay."

You shot your supposed best friend a look of betrayal.

"Then we should do that!" Mingi cried, excitement flaring up again.

"Please Y/N?" San pouted at you.

"Don't worry about all the other people; we'll all be there to look after you."

Wooyoung added on and with all three of them looking at you with such hope, you found yourself giving in again.

"Fine...but I'm not going to enjoy it." You declared sulkily, slumping back into the couch cushions while the three boys cheered. You didn't miss Hongjoong quietly looking pleased with himself for his latest victory in 'getting you out there again'.

He was right, though you hated to admit it, you did used to love dancing but over the years your enjoyment of clubs diminished along with your confidence. Your dislike of them now was based on the assumption that people would judge you. Laugh at you for getting dressed up and trying to look nice when really you were just a fat mess. Laugh at you trying to dance. You had never been what anyone would call graceful - clumsiness and a poor sense of balance making that impossible. You didn't used to care about that but with no self-confidence you started to focus on every bad aspect of yourself.

While you were inside your own head worrying about all this, the others were busy making plans.

"Y/N!" Wooyoung called out, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said I know just the right club for you. It's got great music but it's a little more expensive so all the kids go elsewhere. It's never uncomfortably packed and doesn't get as rowdy."

You nodded and smiled but it had done little to relax you. Honestly you missed the old days you used to go out dancing confidently. When you looked in the mirror and thought you looked nice and didn't worry about if other people agreed or not. Now that you'd agreed, all you could do was make the best of it. You knew the eight boys would look after you and you'd never not enjoyed a night with them. Maybe it would be fun.

                                                     ********

Club night came and you were feeling strangely calm about it. A little nervous but mostly excited to spend another night with the best eight friends you'd ever had.

They had all arrived at your apartment unannounced - Mingi citing his concerns about what clothes you would chose, as if only he knew how to put an outfit together. He said he'd have to approve your outfit before he could let you out; you merely answered him with a roll of your eyes and let him get on with it.

Rather than falling back into your old habit of hiding yourself in baggy clothes, you had actually decided to go for it in terms of dressing up - after all, if you were going out, you might as well make the effort. It had also occurred to you that maybe people were more likely to look at you if you looked out of place, one person in shapeless, baggy clothes in a whole club full of well-dressed people.

Mingi looked you up and down, appraising your outfit. You had chosen a short(ish) black skirt and a sparkly top which showed a nice amount of cleavage but not too much. You'd even broken out your push-up bra for added effect. The outfit was finished with a pair of black heels because if there was one thing you knew, it was that heels made your legs look slimmer. You'd even done the kind of make up you used to with eyeliner and subtle false eyelashes. Why not go all out? you thought; you'd forgotten how nice it felt to get dressed up.

Mingi smiled and gave you the nod so you were good to go. Hongjoong, knowing you would be nervous, made sure to tell you how good he thought you looked and the others all agreed in their own ways. Seonghwa, Yunho and Yeosang nodding in quiet agreement while Mingi, San and Wooyoung  were more vocal about it. The only one who didn't say anything was Jongho - publicly, at least. It was only when the others were out of earshot that he quietly came closer,

"You look really nice tonight."

The blonde boy you'd grown so close to looked quite awkward but you still assumed it was because he didn't want the other boys to tease him again. Why else would he wait until the others couldn't hear him.

"Thank you, Jongho." You replied, feeling as awkward as he looked. "You look really good, yourself."

You looked at Jongho, dressed in black jeans and a dark blue button up shirt with his dark blonde hair parted to show his forehead, making his beautiful dark eyes looking bigger than usual because they were more on show. He looked amazing. He was so handsome it almost hurt.

You felt more awkward with Jongho's compliment...maybe because it meant more to you. You'd had a sneaking suspicion for the last few weeks that you were starting to like him as more than a friend but you'd tried to ignore it because you couldn't imagine it going anywhere. You'd witnessed him get angry when the others teased him about liking you and the only logical reason for that was that the thought of liking you was an unwelcome one.

It was true that Joong had said Jongho liked you but you were sure he was mistaken because of the distance he was keeping from you as well as his general moodiness recently. None of it mattered anyway because, as far as you could see, there was such a vast difference between Jongho and yourself that he couldn't possibly like you.

At best you were ordinary, nothing special at all but Jongho...he was ethereal. His smile was so cute that you couldn't help but smile back when you saw it and his eyes shone so brightly. Yet despite the cuteness he still had a maturity some of the older boys didn't. He was so strong, too and, to be honest, you found that really, really hot.

It wasn't just how he looked, though, Jongho was a wonderful person. He was clever and funny and he'd given you so much help and asked nothing in return. What would someone like that want with someone like you?

                                                 ********

Clubs were as hot, sweaty and loud as you remembered. It had been some time since you'd gone to one - preferring to hide away  at home than go out and be surrounded by people. That's depression's survival instinct...to cut you off from the world so you won't seek help. To keep you away from friends who could help you. Thank goodness for Hongjoong because he wasn't letting you get away with that and without him you'd still be hiding away. Miserable. Clubs might not be the most comfortable place for you due to the overcrowding but you knew that you'd be ok with Hongjoong by your side - as well as the other seven boys you'd now come to think of as 'yours'.

Maybe it was the fun of being out with them all but you'd found it easier than you'd thought to relax and enjoy yourself. You'd even managed to keep away from thoughts that anyone looking at you was judging you...until you noticed a guy at the bar had been looking for a bit too long. You were waiting for the bartender to get your drink and hoping he would do it more quickly so you could get back to the others but luck was not on your side and the guy started to approach.

"Hi."

You looked at the guy for a second. Tall, fairly good looking and he seemed friendly from his tone as he greeted you but you felt a little panicked, nonetheless.

"Umm...Hi." You managed nervously.

He smiled, "You looked really good dancing just now."

You waited for the smirk or laugh to reveal he was being sarcastic but it didn't come. You hadn't yet got to a place where you trusted people meant what they said but when nothing else was said and he appeared to have meant it you quickly thanked him. You'd left a longer gap than was normal before replying and now your worry was that he thought you were slow-witted.

"Are you with all those guys over there?"

"Yeah...they're my friends." You told him, glancing over and smiling.

"You're not going out with any of them?" He pressed on.

"No, we're just friends." You said, shaking your head.

"Ah. Well one of them is really glaring at me right now. I'd say he doesn't like me talking to you."

You looked in the same direction as the guy and, sure enough, saw Jongho looking very much less than friendly.

"Oh, we're quite close so he's probably just worrying about me. You are a stranger, after all." An awkward laugh left you - small talk was not your forte.

The man smiled back and looked about to say something more but the bartender finally returned with your drink.

"Well, it was nice meeting you." You said as you started backing away. You really wanted to be back with your boys; you were still far too socially inept to be in this kind of situation without back up.

"What did that guy want?" Jongho demanded as soon as you were back.

"Dunno...just being friendly, I guess."

The dark blonde scoffed while San jumped in to tease, "Ooh, Y/N's on the pull!"

"Don't be ridiculous, San!" You squealed in horror.

"I'm just saying..." the blonde continued, "...guys don't approach women in clubs because they want to be 'friends'." He emphasised that last word so you'd have no problem undersanding what he meant.

"I'm getting another drink." Jongho grunted before stalking off in the direction of the bar. You sighed. He still didn't seem himself.

"I'm sure he was just being nice." You said naively. It wasn't that you didn't know what men were usually after in clubs but you honestly didn't imagine anyone wanting that from you.

"Suuure he was." A deep voice cut in.

"Don't you start, Mingi!" Your new fashion adviser laughed as you scolded him. "All of you manage to be friends with me without wanting anything more so why can't he?"

Smiling smugly, you felt you'd won the argument until the tall brunette leaned in closer,

"We're all still men, though. I might be your friend but if you asked, I'd fuck you right now and I'm pretty sure one or two of the other guys would, too."

The only way to describe the look on your face was dumbfounded. That was absolutely not something you would've expected to hear from any of them.

"Whatever, I'm going to dance again."

It can't have been possible for you to look any more flustered as you headed back to the others on the dance floor, with Mingi's deep chuckle following behing you.

As the night wore on you really were enjoying yourself much more than you expected but that could have a lot to do with the amount of alcohol you had consumed so far. You were even relaxed to the point that you didn't notice the guy from the bar dancing next to you, getting closer and closer. Soon he was dancing with you but you didn't mind too much as long as he didn't start getting touchy. The attention was nice, at least. You vaguely thought back to what San had said and sighed internally because you didn't want him to have been right but you had to acknowledge it now. Maybe between Jongho's training and Mingi's outfits, they really had managed to make you look alright.

But men were disappointingly typical and, not long after getting close, the guy started to get handsy. You barely had time to turn around and tell him to stop before you felt his hands disappear suddenly. When you had turned you saw said man looking confused - and slightly pained - as one of his wrists was being held aloft by a very pissed off looking Jongho.

The guy looked at Jongho cautiously before saying, "Hey, I'm sorry man...I didn't realise she was your girl."

You could see why the guy was looking worried - Jongho looked pretty scary and you wondered just how tightly he was gripping the man's wrist.

Jongho let go but didn't stop glaring and the man backed away a little.

"She's not but don't you think you should still ask her before you start feeling her up?"

"Sorry...I didn't mean any harm." The guy answered, looking between Jongho's hard face and your quite confused one before walking away quickly. You turned back to Jongho; you really appreciated him looking out for you but couldn't understand why he was so angry.

"Jongho...what -"

"You shouldn't let random guys touch you like that, Y/N!"

You stared at him for a few seconds, a bit stunned until his sharp tone set off your own anger at being chided like that.

"I was turning around to stop him but, to be honest, it's not really any of your business who I let touch me!"

Jongho's eyes widened a little, taken aback by your reaction. You'd always had a temper but none of the boys except Hongjoong had ever seen you get angry. They only knew your milder, more timid side and the quickness in which you turned had taken them all by surprise. In your peripheral vision you could see the rest of them watching the exchange between the two of you.

The dark blonde collected himself and continued with a slightly less angry tone.

"These guys aren't good enough for you. It's just like San said, they only want one thing."

From the corner of your eye you saw San bristle slightly as if he really didn't want to be brought into this now.

"That's my decision to make, though, isn't it Jongho?" You hadn't softened much towards him - now you were free you didn't need another man telling you what to do.

"I know, I'm sorry..." He continued, more softly now, "...but you shouldn't be with guys like that."

"And you know exactly who I should be with?" You asked, sarcasm in your tone. "By all means tell me because I can't see men lining up to date me."

"Me."

"What?"

"You should be with me. I really like you, Y/N."

You stood in silence, trying to make sense of what he just said. Your mind recalled all the things you had previously dismissed as nonsense. Hongjoong telling you outright that Jongho liked you. Yeosang and Wooyoung teasing him about you. Had it not just been baseless teasing? He actually liked you?

Of course he doesn't like you. Who would want you?

"You don't like me." You said shaking your head. You didn't want to believe it because you couldn't trust it.

"I do. Let me show you." Jongho took a step closer and out of habit you fliched away from the closeness.

"What are you doing?" Slight alarm laced your tone.

"I'm going to kiss you." His tone added the silent 'of course'.

You froze at the words and Jongho noticed. It was out of surprise but he must've thought you didn't want him to as he started to look unsure of himself.

"If you don't want me to, all you have to do is say."

He paused, waiting for a 'no' that was never going to come. As much as you feared this was all some elaborate joke, you really did want this.

Hearing no protests, Jongho lifted his hands and placed them gently on the sides of your neck, his thumbs resting on your cheeks. Slowly he leaned down and pulled you closer. As you closed your eyes you prayed this was real and you weren't going to hear them all burst into laughter at any minute but before your fears could be realised, you felt Jongho's lips touch yours.

They were softer than you had imagined - and you had imagined it - and for someone so strong, he was remarkably gently. You could feel that he was being cautious as he didn't try to deepen the kiss, he just pulled back ever so slightly then reconnected, his lips moving softly against yours. When he did pull back to end the kiss, you kept your eyes closed a moment longer, not wanting it to end.

When you did open them you looked up at Jongho to find him looking back at you. He was searching your face for any sign that that wasn't what you had wanted and after a few moments  he was satisfied he could see nothing and gave you a small, somewhat shy smile. Obviously having heard something behind him over the music, his smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of annoyance. Following where he looked you saw the seven other boys all looking at the two of you with varied emotions on their faces, ranging fron happiness and surprise to approval. They had all known he liked you while you had stubbornly refused to see it - even when you were told outright.

Jongho turned back to you with a softer look, "You wanna go somewhere quieter - away from everyone else?"

"Yeah...that'd be nice."

Jongho took your hand in his larger one and led you out of the club. He had touched you before, of course, but only when correcting your stance during workouts. This felt different. It made your heard beat faster and gave you butterflies..

You briefly looked behind you to the others, noting that they looked slightly disappointed that you were both going but they'd get over it.

You and Jongho ended up back in the same coffee shop that first time. It was late, though, so you had the whole place to yourselves. Despite that being the first time you had properly talked alone with him, this was much more nerve-wracking. This wasn't a situation you'd have thought would ever happen. Despite what had just happened in the club you still couldn't let go of your fear. It was as instinctive reaction for you now, to just assume the worst about everything and everybody no matter how good they seemed to be. Just like right now you were quite aware that the both of you had been drinking - had that played a part for him? Would he have kissed you if he hadn't been? And would he think it was a mistake tomorrow?

The butterflies flew around wildly as the dark blonde boy made his way back to the table with the drinks. As he placed the tray down on the table you saw he had also bought a slice of red velvet cake like last time and he smiled as he placed it down. You wondered if he was trying to recreate it that first 'date' of sorts. It had felt special to you - maybe he had felt the same.

Your thoughts were flying as wildly as the butterflies in your stomach, going from hopeful that Jongho really did like you to fear that he was going to say it was just because he had been drinking and he'd got carried away.

Sitting there you'd realised the full extent of your feelings for Jongho...did he feel the same? The look in his eyes was soft as he looked at you and smiled. God, you hoped this meant what you wanted it to. Either way, it looked like you were about to find out as he opened his mouth to speak...

[alexandrablake]

love, jj

Prompts: 88. “I never meant to fall in love with you, I just did” from this prompt list! Pairing: Jemily, technically Word Count: 2,456 Warnings: Mentions of death. A/n: Red (@hurricanejjareau) picked this prompt. thank you, ily. that is all.

                April 29, 2011 Emily,

        Hey. It’s me. I’m sure you can tell by my handwriting. I’ve had you look over enough of my reports that I’d honestly be kind of disappointed if you didn’t. And before you say anything, yes, I know we play Scrabble, but that doesn’t count. I need to talk to you. God, Emily, I just need to talk to you. To see that you are alive, that you are well, and, honestly, to see that you are real. 

        These past few weeks without you have been awful. Everything is different. I’m spending more and more time around the office. The way we all skirt around your name like you never even existed is just painful. For a while there, I almost started to believe you weren’t real. And that’s a big fear of mine- to wake up one morning not worrying about you, because I know that’s all you have right now. You have Hotch and I thinking about you, and that’s it.

        Depressing. And nothing I need to tell you, but it’s not like you’ll read these anyways. It’s nearing two months since you “died.” I don’t think Rossi has processed it yet. Penelope is a shell of her former self coping. Even Ashley seems distraught. Spence has dealt with far too much trauma, and yet, I’ve never seen him like this. He’s been at my house everyday this week, crying and then sleeping on the couch. It’s heart wrenching, and it takes everything in me to not tell him you’re okay. That you’re alive. But I can’t, not with Doyle still out there, always being a danger to you.

        But, my God, is Morgan the worst to be around right now. Second to only Penelope Garcia, you were Derek’s favorite person in the team. No point hiding it, you’re all profilers and I spend way too much time around you guys.. He’s gutted. Honestly, I think he’s the one person here who has really “accepted” that you’re gone. Even Hotch is off. But not Morgan. And that’s the horrifying part. He’s the exact same person that he was before you left, but now his smiles are a little too wide and his gestures are a little too exaggerated. It’s terrifying to be around. 

        I guess that leaves me. I’m doing okay. Miss you everyday, but I feel bad every time I do because I know the truth. I know where you are (kind of) and I know that you are alive. They buried you. They know where you are, too, but for them, that’s six feet under.

        Love, JJ

        March 1st, 2011 Emily, 

        Me again. Today was better, I think. I know we like to say that the serial killers never take a vacation, but they seem to be on one right now. It’s just a bunch of consulting on relatively low level cases. Thank God, because I don’t think any of them could handle a case right now. Reid didn’t sleep at my house last night, which is improvement, I think. He definitely didn’t sleep, but I’ll take what I can get. Derek is almost worse.

        It’s lonely here without you. Penelope isn’t herself, and I find her sitting at your desk all the time. She’s stopped staring at your photo constantly and now avoids the hallway with all the memorials so she doesn’t have to walk by you. She’s in her office even more than she normally would be. There’s boxes of cupcakes being brought in all the time. She’s an absolute and utter wreck. 

        You remember that feeling we all felt when Haley was killed? When we all stood around her casket and watched with teary eyes as Hotch and Jack said their final goodbyes? The feeling that nothing would be okay again? Yeah. That’s about what’s happening now, but now it’s not just Hotch feeling like his life is over. It’s all of us.

        And God, you must be so lonely. 

        Love, JJ

        April 10th, 2011 Emily,

        Today was an all-time low. Everywhere I looked, there you were. Oh, there you were grabbing coffee after an all-nighter spent at my house. Oh, there you are, legs dangling over the side of the chair you’re lounging in because you don’t know how to sit properly. Oh, there you are, smiling at Hotch as you talk animatedly in his office about God knows what. Oh, there you are, downing shots with Rossi.

        Your ghost was everywhere over this office, over my life. You were this office, you were everything. I can’t go anywhere to escape you. How can you have a ghost when you aren’t even dead?

        April 11th, 2011 Emily, 

        Another crying Spencer night. They’re off on their second case, a spree killing in Tampa. I don’t know. At this point, I’m kind of lost. I’m spending far too much time at that office even though I don’t work there because it’s one of my last connections to you. I just… miss you, I guess. No, I know I miss you. 

        I just can’t stop feeling guilty. I’m causing all this pain in the team and in all your loved ones. I was the one who told Hotch you survived, I was the one who suggested you “die.” This is all my fault. 

        Hotch told me he was doing assessments of the team. That shouldn’t be happening. You should be there. I’m not going to ask for the results, and I don’t think I would be allowed to if I asked. I just don’t want to face the reality of what I’ve done.

        Love, JJ

        May 15th, 2011 Emily, 

        Hey, it’s been a while. Not much has changed. I haven’t been to the BAU since my last letter. I can’t face them anymore. I can’t sit within those walls that seep of you. I can’t face you.

        God damnit, Prentiss! Why did you go after Doyle? You knew we could have helped! This could have all been avoided if you would have trusted us!

        May 15th, 2011 Emily, 

        I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I just miss you. A lot.

        May 22nd, 2011 Emily, 

        With you being gone, I’m starting to realize how much I depended on you. You were my person. If I had a problem, I came to you. If I wanted to get drunk, I came to you. If I wanted to get a break from the overwhelmingness of the testerone of our workplaces, I came to you. If I just wanted to escape, I came to you. 

        I’m still avoiding the BAU as best as I can. Even Hotch and I haven’t been talking. Spence is still coming to my house, though. Still crying. He misses you so much, Prentiss. We all do. 

        When Elle left, I didn’t think any of us would recover. She hadn’t been there for the longest time, but she was an integral part of the team. But we recovered. Then, when Gideon left, some of us were fine, but Reid? I genuinely thought he would never be the same. And I guess he isn’t, but he still recovered. And now you left. So if the pattern continues, we’ll recover.

        But I don’t think I will. Because every waking minute of every day (and even some of the sleeping ones), the thought that we will never catch Doyle haunts me. The thought that I will never see your beautiful face again. The thought that I will never actually get to talk to you again. 

        They don’t have those thoughts. To them, you are dead, under the ground, declared dead on the table. To them, there’s no chance they’ll ever see you again. So, for them, if we don’t catch Doyle, yes they’ll be irrationally angry because the son of a bitch who killed you is still out there, but catching him never had any more reward than revenge and putting another bad guy in prison where he belongs. They won’t realize that not catching him means they’ll never see you again because they don’t even know that’s an option. 

        I love you, JJ

        June 1st, 2011 Emily, 

        The worst part of all this is that I know you’re out there, lonely. I would say afraid, but I know you. Emily Prentiss doesn’t get scared, I know. But you’re alone, in a place that isn’t here. All I want to do is help you. And I can’t because if I do, there’s the possibility that I’ll make everything worse.

        So, I’m trying to focus on positives: happy memories and good things to happen. Like, the other day, I walked through a market and, when I passed a flower stall, all I smelled was that expensive perfume you used to wear. The stuff you stopped using because it made Reid sneeze? The stuff you still use when we would go out on the town? Smelling it made me want to go out and buy a drink and dance the night away. 

        And when I was shopping for new shoes for Henry, I saw a pair of boots that I knew you would buy the instant you saw them. They were lace-up, black with a bit of heel (I know your never-ending goal is to get taller), and there was a slight rose decal on the top. I could hear you shouting, “These are men squashing boots!” because you’re never embarrassed in public. I could see the smile you give me, a flash of blinding white teeth. And I knew the smile I would shoot back because happy Emily is my favorite Emily.

        I love you, JJ

        June 18th, 2011 Emily, 

        You missed Morgan’s birthday. 38! It was a pretty somber occasion because we all knew that something was missing. And it was the day before your 3 month anniversary of being dead. Garcia tried as best as she could to fill the gap, decorating the bar that Rossi rented out very extravagantly. Material items could never make up the lack of you. We all just ended up getting drunk.

        I think it’s really starting to hit Hotch. When I take Henry to hang out with Jack, Aaron’s quiet. Granted, he’s always quiet. (Not around you, though. You always bring out the best in people) This is a different quiet, though. He’s almost silent. I think he’s beating himself up. You know Hotch, anniversaries hit him hard. I think he hoped you would be home now, Doyle staying in the maximum security he belongs in. 

        But the rest of them are moving on. Spencer isn’t having the breakdowns he used to have. Penelope and I can go out for coffee without there being this heavy weight sitting on us. Ashley even joined us once, and it didn’t feel like she was replacing anyone. Rossi is smiling much more. Morgan is still acting a little fake, and he pulls sleepless nights every now and then, obsessing over the case. But he’s better. He can focus on cases, and Penelope tells me that they can go hang out without him being too absent-minded. 

        Hotch is the one I’m really worried about. We both remember the aftermath of Haley’s death. The grieving, the silence, the sleepless nights, the constant fidgeting so he could keep his mind of it. That’s what’s happening now. He’s just as worried about you as I am. We both know the possibility of never seeing you again.

        That leaves me. Three months later and I wouldn’t say I’m much better than I used to be. I still have trouble hanging around them. I still find myself grabbing my phone to text you something before remembering that I would never get an answer. I still find myself longing for you, for your smile, for your touch.

        I love you, JJ

        July 17th, 2011 Emily,

        I think this will be my last letter. I’ve come to a few realizations, and, even though I still desperately need to talk to you, writing these are one of them. 

        One: This isn’t healthy for me- nothing about this is. 5 stages of grief. We both know them, they have to do with the unsubs all the time. These letters are classified as denial. And I need to get through all five. Yes, you aren’t dead, but you may as well be. I can’t see you, I can’t talk to you, I can’t know where you are. There’s a death certificate. You were “buried.” And I need to get to acceptance. I need to accept that I may never see you again. I can’t just exist in this state of limbo forever. 

        Two: You are okay, and you can care for yourself. I guess this goes under the first one, but I don’t really care. You don’t get as close as we did are and not have an ever present worry of “what if she’s not okay? What if I’m not there to protect her? What if she needs my help?” But that’s where the denial thing comes in. I think that I’ve been doing that to myself because it keeps you near to me. It keeps you alive. Because if I can worry about you, there is still a you to worry about. Therein lies the issue. There is no you to worry over. To the world, you are dead. And I need to accept that. Because the you that does exist is perfectly capable and doesn’t need my help. 

        Three: Not having you here is the worst part of this all. Technically, you were gone before you left because I left, but we still talked and hung out. We still went to bars on alternating Saturdays. But we can’t have any of that anymore. And I think that’s what made me realize the last thing. 

        I am completely, utterly in love with you. And that’s terrifying. Unrequited love stories are the worst to read, but here I am, writing one. I loved how hot you looked when you tied your hair up. I love the way you carried yourself. I love the way you smiled at me when Reid went on one of his tangents. I love the way you looked at me when I delivered the profile. I love our hushed talks on the plane when everyone else is asleep, talking about everything and nothing.

        The worst part? You are the missing piece in this puzzle. You, Emily, were the one thing I never took into account when planning my life out. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, I just did. Yet, here we are- me, writing crappy letters admitting my feelings, and you, halfway across the world, completely unaware of the havoc you’ve wreaked on me.

        I love you, JJ

[everywhereallofthetime]

Some Girl ... Part 6

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None, really. A few cuss words?

// * // * //

Sunday / July 18th

The next morning, after Sebastian nursed, Elisa took him, telling Charlotte to go back to sleep for a while. When Charlotte woke again, a couple of hours later, she crawled into the shower, replaying in her mind and in her heart everything that had happened the day before.

She wondered if- when, she corrected, Shawn would call.

As she was walking downstairs, she heard it before she saw it. In Wonder. Elisa, with Sebastian on her lap, Jack, and Mason were all parked in front of the television watching Shawn’s documentary.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” Mason asked between mouthfuls of cereal.

Charlotte plopped down beside him on the couch, almost making him spill his bowl. “Peter’s name is actually Shawn?”

She looked over at Elisa, who handed Sebastian to her. Elisa then shrugged her shoulders and stated, “You said you both wanted everyone to know the truth. And sooner is better than later, right? Especially if you plan to bring him around more often.”

“My mind is a little blown here, Charlie,” Mason said. “Why didn’t you just say, ‘hey everyone, this is my boyfriend, Shawn’?” he asked, slightly perplexed.

“Because he’s not my boyfriend!” she exclaimed.

“I told you,” Elisa said, dryly.

“We’re just friends, no matter how you may have perceived things.”

Mason chose to keep certain further thoughts to himself, at least for the time being, and asked again, “All right then, why didn’t you just introduce him as a friend of yours? I guess I can understand why you introduced him as Peter, but why Bash’s dad? Shit. He’s not actually Bash’s dad, is he??”

“No,” she chuckled. “He is most definitely not Bash’s dad.” She then sighed softly. “You’ve been watching the documentary. It looks like you’ve passed the heavily centric Camila part. They broke up less than four months ago. Yesterday was a bad day. All he wanted was to forget for a little while and be around people who didn't know him so he could try to feel normal again. I didn’t actually mean to introduce him as Bash’s dad. That was just...an accident.”

“Or wishful thinking.”

“Shut up, Mason,” she grumbled, feeling her cheeks grow hot. She shot a glance at Elisa. “I’m fine.” She needed everyone to stop thinking she was in love with Shawn.

“You’re very quiet, Uncle Jack,” she said then.

“I already told him everything,” Elisa said.

That didn’t surprise her. As far as she was aware, Elisa and Jack had never kept secrets from one another. “I’m sorry I lied you,” she said to her uncle. She then glanced at Mason again. “All of you.”

Jack smiled softly and reached over to pat her knee. “You’re forgiven, Sweetheart, don’t worry about it. I understand. Just maybe don’t lie to us again?”

“I promise. For what it’s worth, aside from introducing him as Peter, which is actually his middle name, and pretending he was Bash’s dad, Shawn was his honest self. He truly is that lovely and kind. He has an amazing heart.”

“You let him know he’s welcome here anytime,” Jack said, and Elisa nodded in agreement.

Mason laughed. “I can't believe Shawn Mendes was in our fucking house!”

“Yes, and he enjoyed dinner with us. He spent time with our family. He let his guard down and he laughed with us.” There was an edge creeping into her voice. “He pretty much put Bash to bed. You lent him your shorts after he swam with us. You played darts and poker with him. You got drunk with him and he even helped your ass to bed!” Charlotte was agitated, causing Sebastian to get upset, too. She calmed her voice and hugged her son to her, soothing his back. “He's just Shawn,” she whispered, standing with Sebastian, and quickly left the room.

Mason followed after her, into the kitchen. No one had expected her to have a mini meltdown. Even she was surprised at herself.

"I'm sorry, Char. You're right.” He quickly rinsed his bowl and spoon and put them in the dishwasher. He turned and leaned up against it and the countertop. When Charlotte actually looked at him again, he said, “I shouldn't let who he is change anything from last night."

“You just proved why he was too nervous to tell you the truth, as badly as he wanted to. He was feeling awful about lying to everyone.”

“You like him a lot, eh?”

“Don't you start too,” she groaned, giving Sebastian over to Mason so she could fix herself something to eat.

Mason gently tossed Sebastian into the air and then blew raspberries into his neck. “I know, I know. You’re just friends. But you kissed him, and he kissed you back. And you guys were like, really close almost all night.”

“I swear, this is the exact conversation I had with Mom and Didi last night.”

“Are you sure-”

She cut him off quickly. “Stop.”

“But-”

“Nope.”

“Has he had his rebound yet?”

“I don’t know,” she huffed, slightly exasperated. “He doesn’t talk to me the same way as he might his guys friends. He’s too polite to tell me how many women he may have nailed after Camila broke his heart. I don’t think I’d want to know anyway.”

Charlotte sat down at the kitchen island. “I don’t plan on being a rebound either, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Mason buckled Sebastian into his Bumbo and started mixing his oatmeal. “I’m not worried. He promised me he wouldn’t hurt you. He promised he would never do anything to make me hate him.”

“What?” She paused, mid-bite of her peanut butter and banana English muffin. “When were those promises made?”

“When he helped my ass to bed,” he chuckled. “I weirdly, vividly remember that part of the night. He cares about you. He’s a good guy.”

Charlotte fell into her own thoughts while she continued eating.

“How did you even meet him?” Mason asked, drawing her attention again. He slid a spoonful of cereal into Sebastian’s mouth.

She didn't exactly answer. Instead she said, “He lives downtown, like one kilo from my place.” She would let him draw his own conclusions.

“I have to tell Josh and Dougie and Rob.”

“If Didi hasn't already told everyone...

“Please don’t make a big deal out of it. I actually would like to bring him around again. Josh, Dougie, and Rob are common fixtures around here in the summertime. There are six weeks of summer left. I need them to be cool with him.”

“They’ll be fine. It’s Val and the twins you have to worry about.”

“Ugh, I know,” she groaned.

“They’re totally going to want to hang out with you now," he smirked.

// * // * //

Charlotte lingered in the archway between the kitchen and family room, Sebastian on her hip, Mason at her side for support.

Elisa paused the documentary; Charlotte noticed they had almost finished it.

“Shawn’s concert on Netflix is from his sold out show at the Rogers Centre two years ago. You might like to watch that sometime. I was there, with Val and the twins actually, - it was probably the last time we did anything together.

“Anyway...

“Bash just finished his cereal. I’m going to nurse him a little and see if he’ll go down for a nap. And I thought I’d run a load of laundry while he sleeps, before we head home.”

“Okay honey,” Elisa said.

She shifted from one foot to the other. “I also thought maybe it might be time that I tell you about Booker. Bash’s real dad.”

If they were surprised, they didn't show it. Jack just nodded.

Charlotte started towards the stairs. Mason called after her, “By the way, I threw Shawn’s shorts and boxers in your laundry.”

She blushed bright red.

“What?? I thought he was your boyfriend!”

// * // * //

Shawn strolled into the kitchen late Sunday morning, singing to himself. Nothing in particular, just a few runs like he normally did when he was warming up his voice. His younger sister, Aaliyah, almost eighteen and starting college in the fall, was sitting on top of the kitchen island, her phone in hand, texting her boyfriend.

She looked up, surprised, suddenly overwhelmed that her big brother was smiling and singing. She never imagined how much she would have missed hearing his voice until it had been absent for too long.

He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a big hug. “Morning bub,” he murmured. He then opened the fridge and drank the orange juice right out of the carton. He grabbed a muffin and jumped up to sit beside her on the island countertop.

“You seem happy,” she said softly, grinning fiercely, tears in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away.

“I had a good night,” he grinned back and kissed her temple.

“You just disappeared yesterday; we were worried. And then you didn’t get home until well after one. Were you out with Matt?”

“I was not. I made some new friends.”

“That’s not some weird code for-”

“Bub!” he shouted. “No! Oh my God!”

“You always tell me I can say anything to you,” she laughed.

“I know, but you don’t always have to remind me how grown up you are.”

She wrapped her arm around his waist and he hugged her around the shoulders.

“I’m going to go for a run with Tarzan. I’ll be back before lunch,” he said, shoving the last of his muffin in his mouth, jumping off the counter, and slipping his AirPods into his ears. “Love you!” he called over his shoulder as he jogged off.

// * // * //

Part 7

[tangledinmdzs]

you belong to me, junior quartet hcs

junior quartet soulmate headcanons (modern au)

these are a bit long, but i hope you all don’t mind (also i hope you won’t mind the little formatting things i’m working on hehe)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Lan Sizhui

the timer

the moment that Lan Sizhui met you, he knew that you would be someone important to him

when his parents had become friendly with the family down the street and had introduced him to your smiling face, there was no turning back from there

he’d always adored you, long before the timer appeared on your 12th birthdays

and even after that, when the craze of estimates and soulmate countdowns swept through your school he still felt the same lingering ease of being beside you

Sizhui was fine with the mystery of the very big digits on his timer but you had been curious and had dragged him along on the estimation and soulmate guiding journeys that all the kids were crazy about

with some math, he figured out that his timer was set for only 6 more years from now, when he would turn 18.

you were more than jealous, because you had to wait a whole 4 years after him, destined to meet your soulmate at 22

“ahh that means it could be anyone in high school! you’re going to have your first love be your soulmate! that’s so romantic” and you would go on and on and on about all of that, young love and such things

he’d just laugh at you but let you immerse yourself in whatever you wanted to your heart’s content

high school years pass and go like a short rainstorm. 

you and Sizhui grow up together, laughter together, stay together despite all the world’s turbulences

Sizhui doesn’t meet anyone that stays longer than a week, even as his time drops day by day

the years pass by faster than you would imagine and on a wintery January morning, Sizhui wakes up on his 18th birthday to notice that his timer is counting down hours instead of days.

he’s a little shocked, a little scared

what if he met/was destined with a complete stranger

could that happen?

the smallest part of him hopes that isn’t the case

and then that small part of him is reassured by the fact that he would at least be spending some part of the day with you

out of the many traditions that you both have made, you always promised to celebrate each other’s birthday together

the little cute gifs and texts won’t cut it

just the thought of you eases his anxiousness and he anticipates the night that you guys have together

but as the evening gets later and you show no sign of showing up he begins to get worried, then fearful, then anxious

and even though it’s his birthday he ends up pacing by the front door when every call and text that he sends to you is left unanswered

his dads are worried too, you’re not usually like this and they hate seeing their only son so worried

they end up calling your parents only for them to be confused on your whereabouts and now everyone is worried

Sizhui can’t imagine anything happening to you and his fear is heightened by the late hours that’s approaching

he’s too worried about your well being to really notice that the timer on his wrist only has minutes left instead of hours

it is nearing 11:47PM and Sizhui is hurriedly shrugs on a winter coat and scarf, ready to just go looking for you himself

his dads are against it, one lost kid is already a enough of a worry 

but he doesn’t listen, can’t listen 

you’re his best friend for god’s sakes it’s not like he could just leave you

and he’s ignoring his parents commands and pulling the front door open just as the timer on his wrist runs out

in the snowy backdrop of early January five minutes to midnight, you stand with rosy cheeks and a bright smile with a big bag in your arms and a warmth in your eyes

“i was waiting on line for the release of this and i didn’t realize people took so long to wrap things and then the creators ended up being there so i had to fight some people for their signatures... but i’m here! i didn’t miss Sizhui day!” you explain in tumble of words and shove the bag unceremoniously into his shellshocked arms

“i know they’re your favorite game series! so this is all for you” you tell him, smiling widely at his face

he blinks at you, the incessant ticking at the back of his mind finally silent after so many years

Sizhui puts the bag down without even opening it 

without another word he pulls you close to him, holding you tight

his timer has finally ended

but your countdown steadily ticks on | || ||| [pt 2]

✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

Lan Jingyi

writing on skin

you didn’t know who your soulmate was, but whoever they were must be the biggest cheater you’d ever meet

almost as early as you could have been able to contact your soulmate, your skin had been littered with writings of all different kinds

it had started off as little occurrences that slowly got heavier as you both continued on your academic careers

at one point the notes had gotten so bad that you had to resort to wearing long sleeves just to cover up the array of words that were on every inch of your arms  (even the occasional stomach)

all your friends always wondered why you never contacted this soulmate of yours

some acquaintances recommended the idea to you like you couldn’t have thought of it yourself.

of course you wanted to contact this person; tell them to lighten up on the writing a little bit

but was there even any room to write? would they even be able to tell the difference between your handwriting amidst all of the chaos of their notes?

besides this person also seems incredibly sly to be able to get away with such methods of learning for a long time

so you go along with it until you can’t

in your final year of college, the sleeve of words that don’t belong to you almost cost you your diploma

you’d been accused of cheating from your professor and had to go through a deep and painful trial to plead your innocence

it was something that lasted nearly a week, since plagiarism and lack of academic integrity were the highest of offenses at your college

your truth was finally realized when the higher ups on the board realized they couldn’t wash the writing off your arms and you provided the evidence of different handwritings

the trial had been so demanding and draining and it wasn’t even your fault!

and in your anger after the whole ordeal, you don’t think

you return to your dorm room, take out your big blue sharpie and retaliated to your soulmate for the first time by writing STOP on your left arm and  CHEATING on your right. 

you leave the large letters on for a the rest of the night, even when you get weird looks from your roommate for it

that night goes on normally until you’re about to go to sleep and you look down at your arms to realize that the sleeve of tiny scribbles are scrubbed clean from your skin

al that’s left aside from your blue sharpie is a single answer on your right arm, written in the handwriting that you had come to know better than your own for the past few years

i don’t cheat

you huff a disbelieving laugh at that and seeing that your arms are mostly clear go and wash off the blue sharpie

when your soulmate’s answer still remains, you answer them even though the night is late

what does a person do with so much notes on their arms if not to cheat?

your response is written in dark black, neat handwriting despite the fact that you’re writing at an awkward angle and place on your arm

after a few moments, words begin to appear

it’s so weird seeing words appear randomly on your skin, especially when they happen before your eyes

taking notes on the body saves paper

the answer truly makes you have a loss for words and knowing that you were awake, your soulmate probably felt the awkwardness from the silence that lapses for a bit afterwards

it just helps me concentrate better

but i’m assuming you’re not a big fan

and from that you guys start a conversation long overdue, years overdue

you learn that his name is Lan Jingyi and despite the unconventionalities of his work ethic, he had a bit of a charm when he was writing to someone with an answer

morning comes to both of you before you realize

and this time when your arms are filled, it is with many answers, instead of just questions

✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

Jin Ling

with one touch

you had never gotten a bruise in your life

which was a kind of funny considering that you were had been training in your father’s dojo since you could walk

then again in your world, only when you touched your soulmate would that purple greenish ugly color come up 

and since you were the star pupil of your father’s martial arts dojo, it’s not like it was ever easy to land a punch on you anyways

anyone that ever did never was you soulmate

and they’d be dead meat ‘immobilized’ (if not by your retaliation or your sibling’s overprotectiveness or your father’s judgement, the possibilities were endless)

but the point was, you had never gotten a bruise in your entire life, so you definitely didn’t know what it even looked like until you were changing out of your gi and your older sister pointed out the large bruise on your shoulder

you’re surprised

you hadn’t even felt any pain from it

but as you stand with your back to the mirror looking at it back and forth you wrack you brain for every person that you had come into contact within the last few days

the only person that comes to mind is one of the newest recruits to your father’s dojo, an aggressive punk by the name of Jin Ling

he’s not a good fighter as much as he just fights a lot

but you vividly remember being pushed hard when you had to break a fight between him and another student the other day

you hadn’t realized that he had actually pushed your shoulder then

you figure that you’ll know for sure when he comes to the dojo for practice tomorrow

the next day arrives and when you’re setting up the mats for everyone else, Jin Ling ends up being one of the earlier arrivals

and since no one’s there yet, you end up asking him to do something that you don’t usually ask people

but it feels like the only way to know for sure if he is your soulmate or not

“spar with me” you invite him when he returns to the main room with his uniform on

he’s more than surprised; he’s the new kid on the block, you’re the seasoned veteran and the sensei’s kid

when you sense his hesitation, you egg him on with “nothing to be scared of; i’ll go easy on you”

and when you look at him, you notice how his eyes darken at your jab

even though you’re a brown belt and he’s just teetering around yellow

the dojo ends up welcoming the next batch of students that come in with a very bruised up Jin Ling

you’re a little bit better off, though your hands are a little battered up

there’s no pain, luckily, just the ugly color of the bruise of a soulmate touch

and even when Jin Ling glares at you as your father goes through the forms for the day’s lessons, you know that he can’t deny the marks on him can only be made by you

✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

Ouyang Zizhen

first words tattooed on your wrist

Zizhen’s always been a bit of a romantic 

living in a society where all the movies play out picture perfect scenes of confessions has given Zizhen all of the back up that he needs in order to be prepared for his soulmate

he’s one of those people that make you read a specific quote he’s set out before initiating conversation (he’s just that prepared)

but what he isn’t prepared for is what he’d be saying to his soulmate

so one dreary autumn morning, when he walks into the cafe you’re working at bleary eyed and sleep deprived

 Zizhen is not in the state of mind to be meeting his soul mate

when he comes up to the register, he begins ordering his usual chai tea latte with all the specific condiments as you listen in

as he’s talking you feel a little tingling on your wrist and don’t think much about it, not even asking him anything else when he quietly hands you his credit card to swipe

you’d always been a quiet person, and your boss was always on your back for not going through all of the employee procedures but you don’t pay that any mind

but anyways, only when you’re in the middle of making his order do you finally realize

you sleeve slips up a little bit as you’re making the tea and you notice a little paragraph written in beautiful swirling script on your wrist

you’d almost burned yourself at the fact and put one and one together

some dude just placed a whole order as your soulmate quote

and you’re angry

when you’ve finished making the chai latte you hold onto the drink tight as the guy from before comes back for his order

but just before he gets it, you snatch the drink far from his grasp and pull down your sleeve showcase your newest soulmate quote

‘i’ll have a medium chai tea latte, light on on the cream with two pumps of vanilla, no water and switch out normal milk with soy milk. also with extra cinnamon”

when Zizhen realizes that you’re his soulmate his very actual soul wants to leave his body because:

the moment that he’s been waiting for has finally come

also you’re so cute!!!

but you face looks stormy and sullen... i mean who wouldn’t be, you just got an starbucks order as your soulmate quote  (and only a very very specific group of people would find a blessing in that and you were not one of them)

you wanna just call him ‘dickhead’ and make it even, but even that seems light in comparison to the entire chai tea latte order that he places on your wrist   

f o r e v e r

but you’re in for a treat, because, Zizhen’s always been a too much of a romantic

you take some time off from your shift to make a plan with this dude, because there was no way that you were gonna read the cheesy soulmate quote that he wanted and have everything be dandy

you learn that Zizhen is his name and that he’s much too romantic; so romantic in fact that he proposes a solution in comparison to your soulmate quote right away

“do you have a favorite recipe or something that you like to eat? you can read the recipe to me so that i’ll have it on my wrist, and i’ll know how to make it!”

he sounds so excited that it lightens the order on your wrist a little

the gesture softens you a bit (read a lot)

but you’re also mildly peeved that every time you look at your wrist its a beautiful beautiful calligraphy of a specific order of chai tea latte

so when you guys begin dating, you give him the silent treatment on your first few outings together

but through every date together, from movies to restaurant, you learn that Zizhen is a very easy going and compassionate guy, easily filling in for the empty space that would have been your voice

similarly, Zizhen wonders and lingers on the sound of your voice, but also finds himself falling deeply for your laugh

it’s amazing the vibe that you guys create together and this is without you talking yet!

after a few weeks of going out together, you’re sat across from him in a small homey cafe when you say your first words to him

in the end, there is no big recipe written on his wrist; you read the exact quote that he wants to have

because you know how much it means to him to have that on his skin

when you’re finished, Zizhen realizes that what he was searching for wasn’t even the perfect quote to be said

it was the fact that the person he had grown to love had said it to him

and even though there’s no recipe etched onto his skin, he has the rest of eternity to remember all of your favorite recipes to the depths of his heart

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

[drivingsideways]

In your experience, how much can a fic really improve after a shitty first draft? I can never just make myself keep writing without editing because I always think: the better the first draft, the better the final product :(

Hi! 

First a disclaimer: I am not the best editor! I hate it! When the first draft is done,  my impulse is to get “rid” of the story as fast as I can; I often feel emotionally done with the fic before I’m actually done with fixing it, even at like, basic proof- reading level. And that’s something I’m trying to fix as a writing process, but I don’t always succeed. The luxury of fanfic writing is that it’s so low stakes that you can do this, and feel only a mild pinch of conscience. 

Anyway, trufax: I don’t have the kind of patience that @rain-hat has for revisions. And I can see the difference in the quality of the fic! So this is why I’m trying to internalize and nurture within myself some discipline and patience.  

So this “first draft only has to exist” rule is really something I currently use when I’m feeling particularly stuck. Which happens a lot, especially when writing long fics, or feeling that my fic is getting out of hand. (As I write this, I’m side-eyeing my current WIP where I really want to write just That One Scene, but I’m finding myself writing 5k words of back story to get there.) 

Anyways!  I think the point of first drafts- they are allowed to be shitty. Second, I don’t think first drafts are actually first drafts in the sense that they’re not just top of the head, no filter brain to paper/ word doc writing! It’s just the first version of the story where it’s completed in the most basic sense, but within it lies many “drafts” that you’ve discarded along the way. 

Ok, so first, the different ways in which first drafts are shitty. There are so many. 

There’s the kind where at some point you realize that ohhh, a key plot point is resting on something totally unworkable/ untenable even within the universe of your fic, forget “real life.”  This is probably something you should fix straight up, as you write, because otherwise you end up with a lot of rewriting and midnight cursing.

Then there’s the kind where  you’ve got midway or even three-fourths through your initial plan, and  it feels patchy and incoherent- maybe you aren’t hitting the right emotional notes in sections or you’ve bogged yourself down in subplots that felt necessary when you started, but now JUST WON’T WRAP UP. This is the kind of thing where I think it’s super useful to remember that you can fix it later. Give the story some time to rest with you, and sometimes, writing ahead actually clarifies what it was that wasn’t working before. Enjoy going down the rabbit hole with whatever silly subplot or character is demanding your attention. Once it’s done, literally cut that section out into another document or something and let it sit there! Then come back. You’re a fic writer! There’s no deadline! Nobody outside of you ever even needs to read these parts where you reveal your obsession with idk, wine prices in 18th century NY, or whatever. It can be fixed!

There’s the kind of shitty where the sentences just sit there like ungainly rocks on a hill and you’re frantically looking up synonyms for “said”. Adjacent is the kind of shitty where you’ve been swinging between tenses like a trapeze artist within the same sentence. This is the kind of thing I’d say you can fix relatively stress free- even if you cringe a lot as you go through the edit. Thank god your English teacher won’t ever see this kind of thing.  I’m REALLY bad at this kind of fixing though, so if I can bamboozle kind souls into beta reading for me, then I do so pretty shamelessly. But wow, it’s amazing just how much, idk, just neat punctuation and fewer adverbs will improve the readability of the fic dramatically.  If you don’t have a beta reader- I think it’s great to take a few days off entirely from the fic, until you’ve more or less forgotten what you wrote. Fresh set of eyes- even your own- can help this part a LOT! 

So the other thing I mentioned- the first draft isn’t actually “first”. 

I’m also a fan of editing as I go along, or going back to a previous section to tweak things. Sometimes I write a chapter, and then wake up the next morning and think, well, that wasn’t great, and I’m not able to move on until I fix it. So then I do that, and the "first draft” version may more or less be this “second” version.  And y’know, I know some fic writers who will draft and redraft each paragraph as they go along because they can’t get to the next section in their heads until they do that. And that’s fine, if that’s working for you! But for me, what happens is that I run out of patience, and then stress myself out, which makes the “imperfect” section have even less of a chance of being fixed. 

So this is where non linear writing helps me, as a trick, to move the story along while also keeping me mentally in a good place re: the story. In my most recent fic, I actually wrote the end and then went back to the beginning. Which was a very, very weird thing to do, even for me--but after the prologue, that I’d written first, I just wasn’t able to make the introductory chapter work. Just staring at blank pages and feeling a rising panic. Because I was in that obsessive stage with the fic, y’know, when you’re thinking about it constantly , but the problem was I wasn’t thinking about the chapter I was supposed to write, it was the chapter I wanted to write. So that’s what I did! 

 And I think this trick works if your story isn’t very plot heavy; or it is, but you do have a good and detailed plot outline done. That way, you don’t mess up too much in terms of continuity and so on.  Sometimes I find that just making chapter headings clear my head out A LOT. Also then I can do the - ok, you have 3 chapters to go ONLY. (Lies, this will become 5, but still.) Anyway, having some kind of progress bar does help a lot! 

Ok, this is extremely long and somewhat rambly. I hope it’s encouraging! 

Last thing: it’s fine if you trash the first draft and start all over. (Ok, don’t REALLY trash it, keep it there. You’ll find some of it would be useful!)  Anyways, lots of pro authors say that their first draft and the final version are completely different- so you know, sometimes that does happen. Maybe the right thing to do IS trash it, and approach the story or the characters from a different perspective. It’ll be hard to do, and you need to allow yourself space and time to mourn the bits you’re trashing (the grief is REAL!) but at the end of the day, you’ll free yourself to write the better version of the story! 

Ok, really shutting up now. :D

Take care and best of luck with your writing projects!

[godofplumsandthunder]

Our First Date

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: None (If you feel like something should be tagged, please message)

A/N: Day 2 is here and so is chapter 2! Today’s been rough but I still decided to try to write. The song lyrics used in this chapter are a real song, from Ella Fitzgerald’s Cheek to Cheek, which you should go and listen, especially how this month is black history month. It’s such a great song and Fitzgerald played a big role in music history. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!

“You see Peter, what Bucky here left out, was that I was also head over heels for him too. But I thought he was messing with me. Cause you got to remember, I looked a lot different.” Peter nods. 

“I know! We saw the pictures in class! You were tiny! I mean not in a mean way. I just… Wow, I don’t think this Father O’Malley guy would be too happy to know that a blooming homosexual relationship was happening feet away from his pulpit.” Bucky snorts.

“No, he wouldn’t. Especially if he knew what we got up to now!” Bucky bumps into Steve, who turns beet red. 

Peter’s oblivious as he continues to ramble on. “So you met at the chapel. Then what? Did you become friends? Go on dates? Could gay people even go on dates back then? That must have been so hard!”

Steve nods, the memories of the fear and danger of living in the ‘20s and ‘30s as a gay man all come back to him. 

“Yeah, it was hard. If we got caught, we’d go to jail if we were lucky. If we weren’t lucky, well we wouldn’t be here in front of you, Petey. But that didn’t mean we didn’t go out or have fun, we just had to hide it.”

Bucky smiles, “You know, I still remember our first date. Even when I was under, they couldn’t get rid of that memory.”

Steve smiles softly as he pulls Bucky closer to his side. For a moment they were lost in domestic bliss. The pain, struggles, and adversaries they went through to get this, a home, a family, well, Steve wouldn’t want to go through it again, but it was worth it. Their brief, private moment of domesticity was broken, by an excited Peter.

“Please tell me about your first date! Who planned it? How did it go, did you have to go undercover or did…”

“If you let Steve here get a word in edgewise, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.” And Bucky was right. Their first date was, up until recently Steve’s favorite memory with Bucky. A moment where Steve didn’t have to be an awkward third wheel or feel judged for his size. It was the day that changed Steve’s life forever.

-----

Growing up, Steve always hated his birthday. Being born on the 4th of July meant that his birthday was never really his. Except for this year, Steve’s 18th birthday, Steve was buzzing with excitement. For weeks he’s been planning this, Bucky and his first official date. They went on many double dates, and sure, there’d be longing gazes and the quick, very subtle game of footsie. And it was okay, but it wasn’t them. Something that Steve wanted since he met Bucky. So, tonight was going to be their night. Just them. 

The morning of his 18th birthday, he was absolutely buzzing with energy. His little body couldn’t keep up. Grabbing the white sheets he’s been “borrowing” from his neighbors (it’s not stealing because he will return them) he makes the climb up the fire escape to the rooftop. Wheezing, he grabs the first sheet and starts to pin it on the clothesline. It takes him many tries before he was able to pin it on straight and neat. 

Steve finishes about 30 minutes before Bucky said he’d swing by. And thank God that not a single member of the Barnes’ family is ever on time. Somehow, they always are managing to run late. This time, it was 45 minutes late. If it was anyone else, Steve would have worried that he’d been blown off. But knowing it was Buck, it gave him time to change into his nice Sunday clothes, and slick his hair back. After all, he had to look good for his best fella.

“Stevie! Sorry, I’m late!” Bucky calls out as he climbs through Steve’s window. Even after knowing Steve and Sarah for three years, Bucky downright refuses to use the front door. Something about principals, whatever that meant.

“Yeah, sure you are Buck. Anyway, I’m… I’m glad you’re here. I, well, I have a surprise on the roof.” Heart racing, and his palms sweaty, Steve musters all the courage his little body could hold. Tonight was make it or break it. He felt like Bucky felt the same way about him, but what if Steve was just projecting? 

Climbing onto the roof, Bucky looks around. “Good hell Rogers, did you rob a sheet store?”

“Uh, not a store but our neighbors, yeah.”

Shaking his head, Bucky pulls Steve close to him, “and you wonder why you always get beaten up, one day I won’t be there to save you. But what’s with all this?”

Sneaking out of Bucky’s embrace, he grabs his small, old, and tinny radio. He sets it out on an old wooden crate. 

“This is all I want to do for my birthday, Buck. Dance with you, and only you. I don’t want to compete with some gal.” Tears start to well up in his eyes, and goddamnit, he swore he wasn’t going to cry. “You’re 19 Bucky! There’s a war brewing and soon, you’ll… You’ll leave me for some doll to start a family. We can’t be together, no matter how much I want to. I just want one day, one night. Just the two of us. Please,” Looking down to hide his tears, the please is barely a whisper. He laid his heart all out, now it’s all up to Bucky.

“Hey, you look at me,” Bucky grabs Steve’s shoulders and tipping his chin up so those blue eyes look up at him. 

“You listen to me punk, the only way you’ll lose me is if I die. And I ain’t marrying no doll. We’ll move out to the country. Just the two of us. I loved you since I first saw ya, Rogers, and nothings going to change that.” He lets go of Steve to turn on the radio, and the crackling voice of Ella Fitzgerald fills the empty night air. 

Offering his hand, Bucky smiles softly at Steve, “now, is the sweetest and most gorgeous fella here gonna dance with me? Or am I gonna have to dance by myself?” Grabbing onto Bucky’s hand, Steve pulls Bucky close to him. 

“You’re never going to be alone Buck. You’ll always have me. I’ll always be there to catch you, Buck. You’re stuck with me, jerk.” Steve curls around Bucky, standing on his shoes and letting him lead in a swing. Just the two of them, holding on, without a single care in the world. Ella Fitzgerald’s raspy, radio voice rings out in the quiet night. Singing like the song was made just for them.

“Heaven, I'm in heaven, 

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak

And I seem to find the happiness I seek

When we're out together dancing, cheek to cheek”

[rubysunnday]

So this is really depressing but in the episode where they were all nearly hung Shelby sis was before polly and by the time the guy went to say they were free Shelby sis was already hung and they were prepairing for polly. Polly telling everyone and tommy realising he Fucked up

A/N: When I first saw this I was like ‘Jesus Christ!’ but then I had an idea and I think this is now one of the longest things I’ve written on this blog. 

Warning: this is not pretty or fluffy or anything like that, it is dark as hell and I am so, so sorry.

Part 2, Part 3

You just knew that it was going to happen today. You hadn’t slept at all that night because you just knew. Part of you still hoped that you’d go free; that Tommy would save the day yet again. But, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t.

Even if he did, it’d be too late for you.

The warden opened the door, causing you to look up. She gave you a grim look and your body went cold. You were only 19. Just because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was unfair. So, so unfair.

“It’s time,” she said quietly, and you nodded, forcing yourself to stand up. Next door to you, Polly was being raised too but you knew that there was only one scaffold in the prison – one of you would be first.

Polly came out of her cell and her tired eyes widened when she saw you being marched down ahead of, already knowing what was going to happen.

“No!” She exclaimed, pulling against the strong arms holding her. “NO!”

You turned around to look at your aunt and paused. “Can I talk to her, one last time?” You asked softly, looking to the warden.

She hesitated. “Two minutes, that’s it.”

You gave her a small smile as you and Polly were put in an empty cell for a bit of privacy, the door locked behind you.

“No, this, this can’t be happening,” Polly muttered, pacing. “This isn’t right.”

“Polly.”

“No, I refuse to except this.”

“Pol, it’s ok –“

“HOW IS IT OK, Y/N?” Polly yelled and you smiled sadly at her.

You sat down on the bed and patted the space next to you. Polly sat down and you leant your head on her shoulder, relishing her comfort one last time.

“Death isn’t something I’m scared off, Pol,” you said quietly, holding her hand. “If anything, it’s a friend. Taking us from this hell to somewhere quieter.”

“It should be Tommy heading to hang, not you,” Polly muttered, and you nodded.

“I know,” you said, squeezing her hand. “But what is the point in my last emotions being hatred and anger? I don’t want to leave this life with pain and anger in my heart.” You sighed. “Pol, I’d rather expect my death than to not see it coming. I’d rather die a martyr than die a villain. This isn’t some heroic sacrifice, it’s just me, a 19-year-old woman, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And if that leads to some justice in this cruel, cruel world, then I’ll die happy.

“We all have our time, Polly, and if mine is now, then I’ll embrace it gladly. But, when you see Tommy again, because I know you will, don’t argue, tell him…tell him I forgive him. For everything. Tell him that I love him endlessly and that I’ll miss him. Tell them all how much I love them. Tell them that I am sorry,” you swallowed against the lump in your throat as the tears started to burning your eyes, “that I couldn’t be there for them.

“I know I won’t be here to see any of them again, Polly. I’ll never get to see my brothers and sisters again, but, that’s ok, because I remember them as they were before the war – happy, filled with life and smiles. Not these soldiers that they world turned them in to.”

Polly sniffed, wiping away the tears falling down her face. “Oh, darling, when did you get so wise?” She asked, putting a hand to your face.

“I learnt from the best,” you replied, placing your hand over hers. “Besides, I won’t be alone. Grace and mum will be there. And Freddie and Danny.”

“Grace will look after you,” Polly said quietly, a forlorn look on her face, “I know she will.”

You nodded.  “Polly, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t let me be buried. I don’t want to be stuck in one place. I want to be cremated and spread across the land. I want to travel, even in death, because the world never stops turning. I want to be a part of the future and the past. But, most importantly, I don’t want to be forgotten by history.”

Polly nodded. “I promise you, y/n, that you’ll never be forgotten.”

You exhaled slowly, sitting up straighter and smoothing out your hair and dress. “I think I’m ready, Pol.”

Polly wrapped her arms around you, and you hugged her back tightly, taking in her perfume one last time. “I love you so much, my brave girl.”

“I love you too, Polly,” you whispered back as the door was unlocked. “Thank you, for everything.”

The warden came in and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you away from your aunt and towards your death. You could hear Polly’s cries behind you as you approached the noose hanging from the wooden scaffold, but it all became white noise.

It wasn’t a bad way to go, all things considered. It would be quick. A bit of pain and then…nothing.

You climbed the stairs and with each step you felt yourself become more absent from the world. The rope was harsh against your neck as it was put around you and tightened. In front of you was a priest, uttering a prayer under his breath as your hands were tied behind your back. The warden stepped back and gave you one final look, sorrow in her eyes.

You knew it was coming. Out the corner of your eye you saw your executioner move over to the lever that would open the floor underneath you. You looked up and saw Polly being brought out of the cell and down the corridor to wait for her turn.

Behind your back, you felt the ring Arthur had given you for your 18th, running a finger over it one more time. You made eye contact with the priest and gave him a small nod, confirming that you were ready.

Ready to die.

Polly was screaming and yelling as the wardens held her still and forced her to watch.

“In the bleak midwinter,” you whispered softly, clenching your hands together tightly, forcing yourself to think of your family and not what was about to happen.

A creak.

A jolt.

Nothing.

/

Ada was waiting for Polly outside the prison gates, anxiously tapping her foot against the wet pavement. She stepped forward as the doors opened and Polly was shoved out them.

“Pol?” Ada asked, frowning. “Where’s y/n?”

Polly slowly lifted her eyes to look at Ada. “She hung.”

Ada fell back a step, hand over her mouth. “No, no, she can’t have. Tommy freed them all…he said he would…he said he did!”

“She went first,” Polly said quietly. “Told me to tell you that she loves you and misses you. And that she forgave Tommy.” Polly gathered Ada in her arms as she sobbed. “She went first knowing it would be too late. But she still forgave him. She forgave everyone, in the end.”

Ada sniffed as she clung to her aunt. “Do the boys know?”

/

John, Michael and Arthur stepped out of the prison door, blinking at the harsh daylight around them.

“Ada!” Arthur exclaimed, stepping forward to hug his sister, pausing when he saw her red eyes and ruined make – up. “What’s wrong?”

Ada let out a sob, burying her face in her hands as Arthur gathered her in his arms, looking to a broken Polly for answers.

“Where’s y/n?” John asked quietly, his voice cracking slightly.

Polly inhaled sharply. “She’s dead.”

“No,” John snapped, shaking his head, “no, she can’t be. The bastard freed us all. He said he would, and he did, so, where the fuck is she?”

“She was hung first,” Polly said quietly, trying not to look at the expression’s on her son and nephew’s faces. “I watched her hang right in front of me. Yet, somehow, she forgave him. She wanted me to tell you how much she loves you all and that she misses you.”

“Pol,” Arthur whispered, still hugging Ada, “please tell me this is some sick joke.”

“It’s true, Arthur,” Ada whispered, clinging onto him. “The warden confirmed it.”

John swore loudly, kicking the wall nearest him. Michael just stared down at the ground. “This is Tommy’s fault – the fucking bastard should’ve been hung, not her,” he said, falling to the ground with a sob. “Not my baby sister. She did nothing to deserve this. She was innocent!”

“I’m going to kill Tommy,” Michael said lowly. “I’m going to fucking murder him.”

/

“Mr Shelby, there’s a police officer here to see you, sir.”

Tommy looked up and nodded. “Send him in, Frances.”

Frances disappeared and was replaced by a solemn looking policeman holding his hat under his arm.

“Mr Shelby,” he said, stepping forward, “I’m afraid I’m not here for a good reason.”

“I guessed that,” Tommy said, standing up and coming around to the other side of his desk. “So, spit it out then, who’s died?”

“Your sister, sir, y/n Shelby. I’m afraid the release order didn’t arrive soon enough, and she was executed this morning as per her sentence.”

Tommy felt his heart drop out from underneath him and put a hand on the desk to steady himself. The police officer in front of him was still talking but no words were reaching him, there was just a ringing sound.

“- I am very sorry for your loss, sir.”

“Get out,” Tommy ordered, and the police officer quickly made himself scarce.

Tommy slowly fell to the ground, his back against his desk. His little sister was dead by his own hand. He killed her because he thought he could beat god. Her blood was on his hands.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he whispered, burying his head in his hands. “I am so, so sorry.”

[mcatra]

Catra works at Burger King pt 3

catradora in ther modern party clothes!

AO3

pt1/2

Catra was currently studying in the library, trying to work her way through a math problem. 

Her place didn't have internet, so she usually alternated between the school wifi, the public library, and Burger King. Lonnie usually let her study in the break room when the libraries closed up. 

Her phone pings with a message, obviously from Adora. 

Catra picks up her phone and unlocks it, eyebrow raising when she sees the message. 

Adora: 

Wyd? 

Catra sighs. Of course that airheaded jock texted like a frat boy. As much as she wanted to leave her on read, a deal was a deal. 

Catra: 

Studying. 

Adora: 

So diligent! You're so cool, Catra :) 

Adora: 

I'm weightlifting right now! Gotta work off all those BK calories 💪

Great, maybe she will leave her alone to go do her workout. 

Adora: 

[image.attachment]

Catra almost drops her phone when she sees the photo Adora sent. It was a shot of her by the mirror, and she was flexing with a dumbbell. She was wearing a black crop top, which framed her abs perfectly.  What was she doing, getting flustered over what, a gym rat photo that looked like it belonged on a Tinder profile? After much gay panic and debate, Catra takes a photo of herself with her middle finger up to the camera. She taps ‘send’ angrily. 

Catra: 

[image.attachment] 🖕 She doesn't get a response for a few minutes, which was odd. Usually Adora typed back at the speed of lightning. 

Ping. 

Adora: 

wow Ur rlly hot  Catra looks at the text, slack jawed. What the hell? 

Adora: 

Oh my god I am so sorry. That was Glimmer, she took my phone. 

Catra could almost scream, but she was in a public library. She settles for furiously chewing her out, sharp nails flying over the keyboard. 

Catra: 

Plz make Ur excuses more believable. It's so unoriginal I can't even post this on r/OopsDidntMeanTo. 

Adora: 

I really didn't mean to 🥺

Adora: 

I mean 

Adora: 

Glimmer didn't mean to  God, Adora was so stupid. Yet here Catra was, blushing like a fool. When she doesn’t answer for a while, her phone starts pinging again with notifications. 

>Adora liked your photo

>Adora liked your status >Adora reacted to your comment >Adora liked your photo

It goes on for another 23 times and Catra scrolls through it, dumbfounded. Unblocking her was a mistake. 

---- 

As promised, Adora would visit her garage when her shifts were over bringing groceries. In exchange Catra would cook, as it seemed like Adora would burn water if she tried. 

It started off as a weekly thing, but in a true Adora-like fashion it ended up like this everyday. They would talk for hours, catching up on their lost years together. 

Adora talked about all sorts of things, like how hard it was adjusting to the soft beds at first and how she requested a hard one. She told her about the contents of the letters she would send to Catra that never went received. Catra just listened, gratified to hear that Adora missed her in their time apart even half as much as she did. 

They would sing the little songs they invented back when they were kids and make up whole new ones as they waited for the food. Adora even started learning how to cook after watching Catra, and she would barge in uninvited with new recipes. The food tasted better with company, and Adora took great pleasure in piling her seconds. 

Catra would show her the local dumpster and they would go scavenging for items they needed. She taught her how to repair the things they found using Youtube tutorials, and how to disinfect them. It was fun watching Adora try to haggle for prices at the market, or her face when she realized she had to use the outhouse to go to the bathroom at Catra’s. 

Days bleed into months, their easygoing friendship making Catra feel at peace for the first time in forever. 

Right now they were currently in their trial exam period, which functioned both as practice for their final exams and half of their final marks. They were sitting in the library, chatting about their future majors. 

Catra taps a pencil to her chin. ‘Let me guess, you want to do art. No, art history.’

‘Political science, actually! Did you know Eternia University has  the  number one ranked Political Science course in the entire country?' Adora says, flipping through the uni coursebook. 

'Wao, future leader of the free world huh? That's kinda hot.' Catra teases, while Adora swats her in embarrassment. 

'What about you?' 

'Double degree of Law and Social Work.' Catra replies. 'Cliche I know. But I just want to be in a position where I can sue the shit out of Shadow Weaver. The system is corrupt, and there's thousands of kids being abused.' 

'Wow, you're so cool Catra.' Adora says in awe. 'You're so smart, you'd definitely get in.' 

'Damn right.' She scoffs, crossing her arms. 

'You're gonna love Eternia. I went to their open day, the campus is gorgeous. Oh my gosh we could dorm together!' 

'Gross, who'd want to be  your  roommate?' 

'You  would.' 

'Ew, you're so full of yourself. Anyway get off me, I have work soon and I need to get changed.' 

'Ah yes, the cute Burger King apron. I never get tired of it.' 

They would always flirt back and forth like this, but nothing ever came out of it. 

With her friendship came the feelings that she had repressed long ago, unknotting and resurfacing like they had never gone at all. However she had no idea if Adora even liked her in that way, given how affectionate she was with Bow and Glimmer. She was popular with boys and girls alike, but she never dated anyone. Catra never dared to ask. 

Once Adora had fallen asleep in Catra's bed, and the brunette had woken up to the other girls arm around her and their feet tangled together. It reminded her of when they shared the bed as kids, but now they were grown up and this kind of thing didn't have an innocent meaning anymore. Having her there made her heart race and her palms sweaty.

She had wanted to kiss her then. She wanted to kiss her now. Catra wanted every single morning to end up like that. 

-- 

Adora:

Your birthday is soon! Did you want anything?

You  , Catra thinks, like a huge sap. 

Catra:

My sanity back. 

Adora: 

Oh my gosh, we could throw you a party at my place! You’re turning 18 right? We could go out drinking! Angella has this amazing vintage wine collection and I could make cocktails!  

Catra receives another wall of text, basically planning the entirety of this birthday party with Bow being the DJ and how Glimmer could make these buns that were to die for. Adora starts going through the entire party guest list until she has to cut in. 

Catra: 

lol calm down 

Adora: 

Does this mean Ur on board? 🎉

Catra: 

yes fine since you won't shut up about it 

Adora: 

AAAAAAAH YOU'RE THE BEST!!!!!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️ U WILL NOT REGRET THIS 

DW I WILL PLAN EVERYTHING <3333 

💗💖💖😻

The excessive amount of heart emojis make Catra grin dumbly into her palm. 

She's glad they're not video chatting, or Adora would've already taken a screenshot. 

---

It’s the day of her 18th birthday, and she’s nearing the end of her shift. The best friend squad were waiting for her at their usual table so they could give her a ride. 

‘Hey Catra. Can I speak to you out back?’ Lonnie asks, gesturing outside. 

What the heck, did she do something wrong?  It’s been pretty peaceful as of late, and Catra tries to remember if she had done anything to Kyle recently. She nods, chucking her apron at the back as she tries not to notice Adora’s eyes following her. 

 Catra goes out to the back of the store, the night air nipping at her shoulders. Lonnie waits for her there, biting her lip.

‘What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re giving me a raise.’ Catra jokes. 

Lonnie looks conflicted, and she takes a big breath. 

‘I’m sorry but our store isn’t doing so well. I know you’re turning 18, and that means we can’t afford to keep you on anymore.’

‘What…?’ 

Catra felt numb, like she wasn’t really there in the back alley with Lonnie. It felt like an out of body experience. She could only stare at her, betrayed. 

Like Lonnie could read her mind, she tries to correct herself. ‘It wasn’t my decision, it was Octavia’s.’

Of course it was. Her regional manager was the reason she could never just swipe food while she was working. Octavia never liked her, she always reviewed the security cameras and told her off for goofing around. She must’ve known the door incident was on Catra’s shift, and what really happened despite Adora’s cover up. This ‘layoff’ was just an excuse to get rid of her from a financial standpoint. 

‘Thank you for all your hard work over these past 3 years. I know you’re going through a rough time, so we will of course give you a recommendation.’

Catra just nods. 

She returns to her shift, robotically going through the motions. Catra doesn’t even say anything sassy when Adora asks for a burger with no patty and no onions and no sauce, only cheese on bread.

The lack of a clever comeback to their gag routine has Adora concerned. ‘Are you okay?’ 

Of course she wasn’t. How could she be? She was going to have to vacate her garage space, not like she had anywhere to put her furniture in. What the hell was she going to do? 

‘I’m fine.’ She says, even though tears were threatening to burn a hole in the back of her eyelids. ‘Just...rough day.’ 

‘It’s your birthday! The party will cheer you up.’ Bow says brightly. ‘I have the sickest playlist of all time, you're gonna love it.' 

'My mum isn’t home so we have free reign over the entire house! Come on girl, let's get you changed!' Glimmer crows, too excited about the party to pick up on Catra's mood. 'Makeover time!!' 

The two of them force her into Glimmer's Mercedes, on their way to buy every alcohol imaginable from the bottle shop before they go to her house. 

The last thing Catra wanted to do was play dress up or even go to her party, but Adora had planned for so long for this. It would definitely ruin the entire night if she refused to go. 

Out of all the times they had hung out, she’s never been to Adora’s house. She leans her head against the window when they drive into the fancy part of town, by the lakeside with the multi-million dollar yachts parked in the water. 

That still doesn't prepare Catra for when security lets them in through the black gates to the biggest mansion she’s ever seen. There were fountains, perfectly manicured lawns, a tennis court, and was that  a helicopter pad?! 

It was incredible, she had only seen this kind of luxury in the movies. So Glimmer was rich , rich. No wonder she was put out that Adora had her 18th birthday at Burger King. 

Catra looks at Adora with a dumbfounded expression as the attendants let them in, and the blonde looks almost embarrassed when they have to get into an elevator to go to her room. 

Glimmer picks out a hybrid of clothes from her and Adora's closets. The walk-in wardrobe is huge, like a department store full of designer clothes, shoes, jewellery and bags. 

Her wardrobe alone is the size of Catra's home. The brunette suddenly understands why Adora cried upon seeing her concrete garage space. Looking at it, she wanted to cry too. 

Glimmer sets her down on her huge poster bed as she brings out a checkered crop top, ripped black garter shorts and an expensive looking black leather jacket with a gold trim. While Catra reluctantly gets changed, Glimmer picks out a pair of black strappy heeled boots and a hair straightener to battle the bush on Catra’s head. 

She sits still while Glimmer goes to work on her face, bringing out an entire Sephora’s worth of makeup. When Catra looks in the vanity mirror, she almost doesn’t recognize herself. Her eyes were framed with false eyelashes, a swooping cateye, smokey eyeshadow, sharp contour and her lips were now cherry red with bold lipstick. Glimmer applies the finishing touches with silver rings and clip on piercings. 

She hears Adora inhale with shock from the staircase in her bedroom. 

‘Catra you look incredible !’ She gasps. Adora was wearing this cute backless white dress tied with strings, short enough that it cropped above her knees. She was wearing sparkly wedges to go with it, and her hair was curled instead of her usual ponytail. Her delicate gold sword necklace frames her collarbones. 

Catra’s throat goes dry. ‘Uh- You too.’ 

 Glimmer smirks, satisfied with her work. She gets changed into her own outfit, a short purple tulle lace dress with a white fur trim and a cute Gucci clutch to accompany it. The pink haired girl spritzes them all with her various floral and sea spray scented perfumes before they head back downstairs.

‘Wow you guys look amazing!’ Scorpia marvels, and Adora’s friends voice their approval as well. 

‘Gosh this place is crazy.’ Scorpia whispers to Catra. ‘Did you see their pool? We should’ve just held the swimming carnival here!’ 

Catra opens her mouth to tell her how Lonnie had let her go, but Sea Hawk’s booming voice interrupts them. 

'I challenge you to the ultimate game of BEER PONG!' Sea Hawk announces, spinning the ball on his fingertips. 

Of course this gets everyone's competitive spirit going, and everyone gets into pairs. 

After a few drinks Catra has almost forgotten what she was worrying about earlier, too focused on the buzz. Her and Adora demolish the other teams by a landslide with their impeccable aim. 

Soon the attendants came out with dinner, and it was lavish with every food you could imagine. Lobster, kobe beef, hor d'oeuvres, beluga caviar, kale, and opulent ice cream were all among the plates of food on the table. They bring out a massive 3 tiered truffle cake, the words 'Happy Birthday' written with an oddly crude drawing of Catra. 

'You drew this?' She asks, and Adora nods happily. 'You worked so hard on mine, so.' Catra doesn’t have the heart to tell her that the cake was $7 and the drawing of her forehead was meant as an insult.  They sing the birthday song for her, and this time no one brings up the cake cutting tradition. 

 After dinner they sit outside in the garden around the bonfire Sea Hawk had made. He was drunkenly singing a loud shanty while Bow piled in the wood, fanning the flames. Frosta sips on a mocktail, the only one there who wasn’t old enough to drink yet. The fire flickers and dances, casting shadows around them. 

Catra downs a few more cocktails and jello shots as she waits for Mermista to light up some fireworks. Apparently it was illegal, but Mermista just waved her off, telling her that she’ll just pay the penalty fee as Catra’s birthday gift. Sea Hawk really did rub off on her. 

When she successfully sets them off they light up the sky in dazzling multicoloured sparks. Adora’s friends whoop with glee, taking photos and videos to commemorate the moment. 

Adora's side profile is lit up in the dark, and she looks impossibly beautiful among the backdrop of stars. Longing tears at her chest, Catra wants to hold her hand but her throat feels too tight and she can’t move. The truth was that she knew she had always had feelings for Adora, even back when they were just kids back in the foster home. But like a coward, she could never voice them for fear of Adora leaving her side. 

A loud neighing can be heard from the stables in response to the loud booming noises from the fireworks. 

'Swifty!' Adora says, standing up. The moment's breaks and Catra reels back her hand. 'Stay here, I'll be right back.' 

Her chance disappears, she couldn’t say it after all. She watches her go tend to her horse, feeling stupid. 

‘Yoohoo~, want a rematch?’ Sea Hawk calls out from the patio, pouring vodka into tiny glasses. 

‘Don’t mind if I do.’ Catra replies. She definitely didn’t know her alcohol tolerance levels yet, so it was the perfect time to take that to the test. 

Catra confidently does a whole line of shots, determined to drink herself into unconsciousness. Every time she sees a flash of Lonnie or Adora’s face in her mind, she takes another swig. Everyone is cheering her on, screaming the song ‘Shots’ over and over again, also all drunk out of their minds. Sea Hawk taps out at the 5th drink, and everyone screams at Catra’s flawless victory. Scorpia lifts her into the air to do a victory lap, cheering. 

Adora finally makes an appearance, alerted by the sound of Catra's shrieky laughter as Scorpia swings her around. 

‘Don’t worry, I can take it from here.’ Her school captain says pulling Catra away from her friend. Scorpia just shrugs and makes her way to the food table. ‘Catra, maybe you should slow down.’ Adora tells the giggling girl in her arms. 

‘Noo way.’ She slurs, she was enjoying the feeling too much, the alcohol burning through her body, making her feel lightheaded. The light up disco dancefloor starts to blur into a kaleidoscope of colours. 

‘You got some weed?’ Catra asks, seeing Perfuma light a bowl. The taller girl hands her an already rolled up one and Catra snatches it to take a long drag. The smoke hits her lungs and she starts coughing. 

‘Oi Perfuma, why did you bring drugs? Angella will kill me!' Adora gripes, trying to wrestle the blunt away from Catra. 

‘Aw don't be like that! I made some edibles for you guys to try.’ Perfuma says cheerfully, pointing to the pot brownies. 

‘See? Scorpia likes them.’ She gestures at the other girl, who seemed to be currently tripping out of her mind and eating everything on the table. 

Catra goes to reach for one, but Adora grabs her by the wrist to lead her back inside. 'Alright, you're done for the night. Everyone say bye!' 

‘Byee Catra!’

‘Happy birthday!!’

Adora grabs her by the waist to lead her to her bedroom, Catra wobbling after her in the heels Glimmer lent her. 

'Ugh Adoraaa, don't be such a party pooper. I'm fine.' She moans, leaning heavily on the other girl. 'Don't you have a shift tomorrow afternoon? I don't want you getting hungover or drug tested.' Adora chides, rummaging around the dark for the light switch. 

Catra snorts. 'Oh you don't have to worry about  that  anymore. Got laid off.' 

Adora looks at her in confusion, until realization dawns on her. 'Wait, is that why Lonnie took you outside?' 

'Say, I never got to give you  your  birthday gift.' Catra pushes her hair back, voice sultry as she flings off her jacket. She never pinned herself down as a horny drunk, but here they were. Catra shoves Adora onto the bed, straddling her. Her golden hair spills over the mattress, soft like spun silk. 

'You still want that kiss?' Catra whispers in Adora's now burning red ear. 'My knife touched the bottom.' 

Adora's face now resembled a fire truck, mouth gaping in shock.

'C-Catra, I…' 

Catra presses their lips together, silencing her. She knows she probably tastes like alcohol and weed right now, but she couldn't care less in the moment. Adora's mouth is still slack jawed from mortification, so she takes the opportunity for tongue. She frowns and moves down to her neck when Adora doesn’t return the kiss. 

'Catra, what are you doing-' 

Catra bites down on Adora's nape. The blonde underneath her lets out a soft gasp, arching her back. Her gold manicured nails dig into her shoulder. 

'Stop, you're not thinking straight-!' 

'Sure ain't.' Catra grins, licking a stripe down the base of her neck. Adora’s necklace chain jingles with the movement. There was now an impressive hickey there, blooming violet on her pale skin. She pauses to admire her handiwork. 

'This isn't you talking, you'll, you'll regret this in the morning.' Adora stutters. She's shivering, their hands now laced together, silver rings clanking. 

'I know. I don't care.' She replies, kissing her again. Adora's teeth nick her lip. The alcohol in her system makes her feel lightheaded, confident. No way would she have managed this sober. Adora tastes better than she does, sweet like blueberry soju. Catra's hands wander down further, pulling the strings to untie the back of her dress-

'Catra stop!'  Adora suddenly shouts, striking Catra across the cheek in a deafening  slap . 

Adora's eyes were blazing, almost teary in the dark. Her breathing was irregular, panting in and out. Catra stills, clutching her cheek. The look in her eyes sobered her immediately. 

Adora looks down at her palm, realizing what she just did. 'Sorry for hitting you!' She flounders. 'It's just that, you're only doing this because you’re drunk and upset, right?’

Catra just stares at her before climbing off. Cold realization settles as the fog in her brain clears. 'You're right. Forget it.' 

She sits on the edge of the bed, numbly watching Adora hurriedly trying to re-tie the back of her now wrinkled dress. Her lips are stained with Catra’s red lipstick. Adora catches her looking, and she quickly turns away to smooth down her hair with her fingers. 'You've had more than enough to drink tonight. I’ll get you some water to clear your head.’

She gets up to turn on the light switch, and Catra blinks in the harsh light from the chandeliers.  ‘Come on, let’s get you sobered up, okay?’ Adora leads her to the kitchen on the same floor, gingerly placing her friend on the slippery bar stool. 

The blonde goes to get the chilled jug of infused water from the fridge and pours it into a glass. Adora slides it across the island, and Catra reluctantly takes it. She sips at it, mint and lemon on her tongue. It tasted way better than her hose water. 

‘I’ll uh, pick out some groceries for you since we’re here and all.’ Adora says awkwardly into the silence, turning around to rummage through her pantry. 

Suddenly Catra is brought back to the whole reason why she was sitting here in this oversized mansion in the first place. Their friendship agreement. The one she had just violated. Catra had never felt more stupid to mistake Adora’s kindness and guilt for actual feelings. She felt like a charity case, waiting to collect food from the soup kitchen.

Of course Adora didn't like her back. She just saw her as someone needing to be saved. The product of survival guilt. Catra wanted to whack her head on the corner of her marbled countertop and not wake up. 

Adora takes out a green plastic bag, and starts filling it with everything and anything she can get. Cans, pasta, biscuits, fruits and vegetables. Actually this feeling was more like being one of those poor kids that white girls would pose next to for their Instagram after their trip to Africa.  Did Adora have fun, volunteering to slum it up in her place while she returned here? All she ever wanted her entire life was to be Adora’s equal. 

Scorpia and Sea Hawk's loud laughter and DJ music can be heard downstairs in the garden, beyond the tall golden trimmed windows. The class difference between them stretched like an unfathomable canyon. Living the classy bougie dream until the clock struck midnight and she was back in her run down garage. Except soon she won’t even have that anymore. Why did Adora have to bring her here? It was almost cruel. 

Catra's suddenly overcome with the urge to vomit. She nearly falls off the high chair in her rush to throw up the unholy cocktail of alcohol into the sink. Tears bead in her eyes from the sour taste as she continues to vomit out everything she ate that night. She can feel Adora by her side, patting her back reassuringly.

It was by far the worst birthday she has ever had. 

 --

The morning of, Catra woke up in Adora’s bed with a splitting headache. 

Unfortunately she was  not given the gift of amnesia, as she vividly remembered every last excruciating detail about last night. 

She spots Adora’s mop of blonde hair under a blanket on the floor, even though there were a billion other free spare rooms to sleep in. Adora was probably too afraid to share the same bed as her now.

Catra’s borrowed crop top digs uncomfortably into her skin, and she angrily flings it off her body. The shorts stick to her like a second skin, smelling of tequila. She grabs her old Burger King uniform and puts it on, though even this didn’t belong to her now. 

Adora shifts in her sleep, and Catra lightly steps over her to get to the door. The last thing she wanted was for Adora to wake up. 

As soon as she’s out, she runs out to the elevator and bangs frantically on the buttons until it sends her to the bottom floor. The lift opens with a  ding  and in her haste she almost crashes headfirst into Glimmer. 

‘Oh hey! Are you going to work?’ Glimmer greets. She was in her silk pajamas and slippers, holding a glass of orange juice. 

‘Uh. Yeah.’ Catra lies, trying her best to look natural. 

‘Some party last night huh? Lucky today is a Saturday.’ Glimmer says conversationally, unaware of Catra’s urge to throw her across the room. ‘Hey, what happened to your cheek?’

Catra clutches her face, it still strung from where Adora struck her. ‘Nothing.’

Glimmer raises an eyebrow. ‘Well anyway, did you wanna stick around for  breakfast? The cooks made pancakes, bacon, eggs, the whole deal.' She peeks behind Catra. 'Is Adora  still  not up yet?’ 

As much as Catra wanted to scream  get out of my way she schools her expression to her best customer service smile. ‘Nope she’s still sleeping it off. Anyway I’m gonna be late so I can’t stick around.’

‘Did you need a lift?’ Glimmer asks. It dawns on the brunette she couldn’t exactly run the entire way back home. ‘I’ll ask one of the drivers to take you back so you make it to your shift.’

Catra thanks her lucky stars that Glimmer was still too hungover to drive her. She wouldn’t have been able to dodge her questions if she had. 

‘Yes please.’ Catra says, giddy with relief. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘Ooh and before I forget, Adora told me last night to give you this.’ Glimmer says, grabbing the green bag of groceries off the counter. The shorter girl bundles it into Catra’s arms before she can object. 

‘Get home safe.’ She says, waving as the attendant leads her out the door. 

Catra looks down at the cans of food in her arms and doesn’t say anything.  

 ------

The days leading up to graduation were painful, to say the least. 

They more or less pretend the kiss didn't happen. Adora never brings it up, and neither does Catra. 

She would stare at the ceiling, wishing she had never gotten piss drunk at her birthday and kissed her. Adora was right, she did regret it. It was awful, the look on Adora's face when she slapped Catra replays in her mind and nightmares over and over again. It was mortifying. 

Adora still messages her every 3 days, and Catra still replies, though her words are empty and devoid of banter.  I'm worried about you,  she says.  I'm fine , Catra always responds. 

The brunette continues to humour her to keep the peace, only shutting down when her old job was mentioned. Catra doesn’t allow Adora back into her home again. 

Sometimes they study together, but she can't concentrate when Adora wears her glasses. Her heart hurts, so she cradles her cheek and tries not to remember. 

The hickey she had branded Adora's neck with had been covered with foundation until it faded away. None of her friends had teased her about it, so she clearly had not told a single soul what had happened. 

Catra bites at the scab on her lip from where Adora’s teeth nicked her until it bleeds. She wants to apologize, but the words stick on her tongue and she can't bring herself to talk about that night. 

Catra knew Adora was only here by her side to alleviate her guilt. Shame buries itself under her skin every time she's near her, like she was too embarrassed to even exist in the same space as Adora. She wants to disappear. 

Exams are hard, and without an internet connection after the library closes at 6pm made it difficult to study. In her heart she knew she wasn't going to come out on top. Her ranking had slipped, she wasn't even at second place anymore. Rent was due at the end of the month, and without her Burger King wage she knew she'll be kicked out sooner than later. 

Catra felt stressed and self destructive, and the only thing that kept her from falling off the edge completely was Scorpia. As much as she hated depending on others, she'd much rather her old coworker than Adora. 

Her classmates seemed to like this new, muted down version of Catra who didn't argue and just stayed quiet most of the time. Fighting back was too difficult when all she wanted to do was blend into the wallpaper. All they talked about was where they were going for vacation after graduation, and Catra certainly had nothing to contribute to that conversation.

She felt like crying, all the time. It was agony, wanting to burst out into tears randomly while she sat wasting away in the student council room. Despite herself, she missed Burger King, and she just kept getting ghosted or rejected in her other job applications. Sometimes when she really wanted to indulge herself, she'd go cry silently in the school toilet stall. 

Glimmer notices the change, and she catches her glaring. 'You don't seem as alive lately. Your eye bags are huge.' 

'S'fine.' Catra replies, hiding her hands so she doesn't see how they shake. Honestly Catra couldn't remember the last time she slept.

'Pfft, don't lie to me. Adora's worried about you. You're getting skinnier, and your eyes are always raw. All you do is stare into space.' 

Catra bites down on her nails. Of course she knew that. But she's gone through this before, and she'll do it again. 

'What happened between you two?’ 

‘None of your business.’ Catra replies, shuffling her way to the hall. 

--

 Their graduation ceremony starts off uneventfully. Every student’s parents except Catra’s sit proudly in the audience, eager to watch their kid graduate. One by one they receive their certificate and return to their seats. 

Adora and Catra stand side by side onstage, as Adora makes their final speech as School Captain. Through the blinding lights, she sees Angella waving proudly at her adoptive daughter in the crowd. 

Catra looks at Adora in the corner of her eye. She must look pathetic, lovesick and pining after someone she couldn’t have. 

‘It’s been such an honour serving the entire faculty and students of this school. I couldn’t have done it without my amazing Vice-Captain and all of my prefects. Now I’m proud to hand over my badge to the next School Captain, Frosta.’ 

They go through the rest of the ceremony like that, each member of the student council handing their badges to their successors. 

Soon their Principal comes up to the podium, tapping it once and clearing her throat. 

‘Announcing our honor student, and the winner of the scholarship to Eternia University…’ Castaspella says, turning over the sign card. 

‘None other than our school captain, Adora!’

Everyone starts clapping, and Adora walks across the stage to shake Castaspella's hand. 

Sounded about right. Catra never won against Adora in her entire life. She had already expected this outcome. Like a game of cat and mouse, going over and over for all eternity. 

Adora would excel with her elite education and secure a well paying job. Catra would struggle at the bottom indefinitely, never amounting to anything. She never would, if Adora was still there next to her. When the blonde re-entered her life, everything she had been working towards for years just collapsed. Her job, her home, her School Captain status, her chance at the scholarship, her sanity. 

She had to be wiped clean. A fresh start. 

The flower petals were falling, the streets decorated with a vibrant pink. The other students mill out of the crowd with their parents, chatting excitedly about what was next in their futures. She waits for Adora underneath a tree.  

'Congratulations.' Catra says, when she finally spots the other girl in the crowd. Adora pulls away from Angella’s embrace to meet her. 

'You deserve this so much more than I do.' Adora says, her voice pained like she didn't just win a full ride to her dream university. 'You should take it.'

'It's in your name, silly.' Catra replies, lightly tapping her with her rolled up certificate.

'Besides, I knew you'd get into Eternia, so I never applied.'

Adora blinks dumbly. '...What? Aren’t we going to the same university?’ 

She always was a bit slow on the uptake. ‘Only  you  decided that, stuupid. Say, it's about time we ended this right?' 

‘Catra, what are you...' 

'Our deal. You don't need to feel guilty anymore or bring me anything.' Catra says, her voice sounding like it didn't belong to her. She rummages in her bag, bringing out Adora's spare varsity jacket that she hadn’t returned. 'Here, take this. Thank you for all the help.' 

'What do you mean? You want to stop being friends?' Adora says in disbelief, taking the jacket.  

Catra nods. ‘I can’t continue with the arrangement. I hope you understand.’ 

‘I don’t! Was I the only one who thought we were friends, real ones?’ Adora asks.

‘...That’s right. I never saw you as a friend. You were just a meal ticket to me. Are you happy now?’ Catra snaps back. Shit, that wasn’t what she meant to say. She had planned to end this quickly and painlessly, on a high note.  Trust Adora to put up a fight. 

Something seems to click in Adora’s brain. ‘Is this about the night of the party?’

‘Figure that out yourself.’ Catra replies, turning to walk away. 

Adora grabs onto her arm. ‘Wait! If- if that’s what you want, I’ll give it! Just don't go!' 

This dumb blonde really was offering up her body, out of what? A sense of duty? How stupid. 

‘Is that right?’ Catra says, walking closer to her. Adora backs up until she is pinned to the tree. They’re face to face now. 

‘Can you really do this?’ Catra lifts Adora’s chin by a finger. 

Finally it seems to dawn on Adora exactly what Catra wanted. She swallows, biting her lip. 

There’s a flicker of hesitation, before Adora’s eyes squeeze shut defiantly. The blonde is shaking like a leaf, her breath coming out in panicked stutters from her pursed lips. 

Catra just stares at Adora’s scrunched up face impassively. Her scared reaction was the only confirmation she needed for closure. 

She flicks the other girl’s forehead, and her big blue eyes open in confusion. ‘Chill out, I’m not that evil to do it to someone so unwilling.’

 Adora blinks, clutching her forehead. ‘Catra?’

Suddenly Angella’s voice cuts through their conversation from the car park. ‘Adora dear, are you done chatting with your friend? We have reservations!'

‘Um, I…’ Her old school captain opens her mouth to say something, but Angella's started to lose her patience. 'Adora, how long are you going to stand there? Glimmer is already waiting for us at the restaurant!' 

Catra just smiles tiredly. ‘Take care, dummy.’ 

She watches Adora being dragged off unwillingly by her adoptive mother to the car. 

Catra lets out a sigh. Her phone pings with a message from Scorpia, and she knows it's time to go. 

---

 By the time Angella releases her from their graduation celebration, Adora can feel that it's already too late.

 Adora: 

Please, can we talk? Let me fix this

A pop up appears over the screen. 

Message Not Sent

This person isn't receiving messages at this time. 

Adora sends another message, but they all go undelivered. Catra had blocked her again. Panic spikes through her veins, and she quickly dons on a jacket and grabs her car keys. 

She sneaks out that night, down the familiar winding path through the bush that led to Catra's place. 

'Catra?' She rolls up the garage door, blinking in the darkness. When her eyes adjusted, she found Catra's old home completely emptied. 

All the furniture and items her friend had collected over the years, they were all gone. The little stove where they cooked, the old mattress where they talked late into the night, all vanished like they were never there. 

A single green plastic bag remained on the floor untouched, filled to the brim of food. 

     catra working at BK fanart: 

https://twitter.com/huetrooper/status/1265188930741080064

https://twitter.com/quackelroys/status/1271199987540668416?s=20

https://mcatra.tumblr.com/post/620493235561824256/your-catra-works-at-burger-king-fic-is-great-you

 pt1, pt 2

Catra was currently studying in the library, trying to work her way through a math problem. 

Her place didn't have internet, so she usually alternated between the school wifi, the public library, and Burger King. Lonnie usually let her study in the break room when the libraries closed up. 

Her phone pings with a message, obviously from Adora. 

Catra picks up her phone and unlocks it, eyebrow raising when she sees the message. 

Adora: 

Wyd? 

Catra sighs. Of course that airheaded jock texted like a frat boy. As much as she wanted to leave her on read, a deal was a deal. 

Catra: 

Studying. 

Adora: 

So diligent! You're so cool, Catra :) 

Adora: 

I'm weightlifting right now! Gotta work off all those BK calories 💪

Great, maybe she will leave her alone to go do her workout. 

Adora: 

[image.attachment]

Catra almost drops her phone when she sees the photo Adora sent. It was a shot of her by the mirror, and she was flexing with a dumbbell. She was wearing a black crop top, which framed her abs perfectly. 

What was she doing, getting flustered over what, a gym rat photo that looked like it belonged on a Tinder profile? 

After much gay panic and debate, Catra takes a photo of herself with her middle finger up to the camera. She taps ‘send’ angrily. 

Catra: 

[image.attachment] 🖕

She doesn't get a response for a few minutes, which was odd. Usually Adora typed back at the speed of lightning. 

Ping. 

Adora: 

wow Ur rlly hot 

Catra looks at the text, slack jawed. What the hell? 

Adora: 

Oh my god I am so sorry. That was Glimmer, she took my phone. 

Catra could almost scream, but she was in a public library. She settles for furiously chewing her out, sharp nails flying over the keyboard. 

Catra: 

Plz make Ur excuses more believable. It's so unoriginal I can't even post this on r/OopsDidntMeanTo. 

Adora: 

I really didn't mean to 🥺

Adora: 

I mean 

Adora: 

Glimmer didn't mean to 

God, Adora was so stupid. Yet here Catra was, blushing like a fool. When she doesn’t answer for a while, her phone starts pinging again with notifications. 

>Adora liked your photo

>Adora liked your status >Adora reacted to your comment >Adora liked your photo

It goes on for another 23 times and Catra scrolls through it, dumbfounded. Unblocking her was  a mistake. 

---- 

As promised, Adora would visit her garage when her shifts were over bringing groceries. In exchange Catra would cook, as it seemed like Adora would burn water if she tried. 

It started off as a weekly thing, but in a true Adora-like fashion it ended up like this everyday. They would talk for hours, catching up on their lost years together. 

Adora talked about all sorts of things, like how hard it was adjusting to the soft beds at first and how she requested a hard one. She told her about the contents of the letters she would send to Catra that never went received. Catra just listened, gratified to hear that Adora missed her in their time apart even half as much as she did. 

They would sing the little songs they invented back when they were kids and make up whole new ones as they waited for the food. Adora even started learning how to cook after watching Catra, and she would barge in uninvited with new recipes. The food tasted better with company, and Adora took great pleasure in piling her seconds. 

Catra would show her the local dumpster and they would go scavenging for items they needed. She taught her how to repair the things they found using Youtube tutorials, and how to disinfect them. It was fun watching Adora try to haggle for prices at the market, or her face when she realized she had to use the outhouse to go to the bathroom at Catra’s. 

Days bleed into months, their easygoing friendship making Catra feel at peace for the first time in forever. 

Right now they were currently in their trial exam period, which functioned both as practice for their final exams and half of their final marks. They were sitting in the library, chatting about their future majors. 

Catra taps a pencil to her chin. ‘Let me guess, you want to do art. No, art history.’

‘Political science, actually! Did you know Eternia University has the number one ranked Political Science course in the entire country?' Adora says, flipping through the uni coursebook. 

'Wao, future leader of the free world huh? That's kinda hot.' Catra teases, while Adora swats her in embarrassment. 

'What about you?' 

'Double degree of Law and Social Work.' Catra replies. 'Cliche I know. But I just want to be in a position where I can sue the shit out of Shadow Weaver. The system is corrupt, and there's thousands of kids being abused.' 

'Wow, you're so cool Catra.' Adora says in awe. 'You're so smart, you'd definitely get in.' 

'Damn right.' She scoffs, crossing her arms. 

'You're gonna love Eternia. I went to their open day, the campus is gorgeous. Oh my gosh we could dorm together!' 

'Gross, who'd want to be your roommate?' 

'You would.' 

'Ew, you're so full of yourself. Anyway get off me, I have work soon and I need to get changed.' 

'Ah yes, the cute Burger King apron. I never get tired of it.' 

They would always flirt back and forth like this, but nothing ever came out of it. 

With her friendship came the feelings that she had repressed long ago, unknotting and resurfacing like they had never gone at all. However she had no idea if Adora even liked her in that way, given how affectionate she was with Bow and Glimmer. She was popular with boys and girls alike, but she never dated anyone. Catra never dared to ask. 

Once Adora had fallen asleep in Catra's bed, and the brunette had woken up to the other girls arm around her and their feet tangled together. It reminded her of when they shared the bed as kids, but now they were grown up and this kind of thing didn't have an innocent meaning anymore. Having her there made her heart race and her palms sweaty.

She had wanted to kiss her then. She wanted to kiss her now. Catra wanted every single morning to end up like that. 

-- 

Adora:

Your birthday is soon! Did you want anything?

You, Catra thinks, like a huge sap. 

Catra:

My sanity back. 

Adora: 

Oh my gosh, we could throw you a party at my place! You’re turning 18 right? We could go out drinking! Angella has this amazing vintage wine collection and I could make cocktails!  

Catra receives another wall of text, basically planning the entirety of this birthday party with Bow being the DJ and how Glimmer could make these buns that were to die for. Adora starts going through the entire party guest list until she has to cut in. 

Catra: 

lol calm down 

Adora: 

Does this mean Ur on board? 🎉

Catra: 

yes fine since you won't shut up about it 

Adora: 

AAAAAAAH YOU'RE THE BEST!!!!!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️ U WILL NOT REGRET THIS 

DW I WILL PLAN EVERYTHING <3333 

💗💖💖😻

The excessive amount of heart emojis make Catra grin dumbly into her palm. 

She's glad they're not video chatting, or Adora would've already taken a screenshot. 

---

It’s the day of her 18th birthday, and she’s nearing the end of her shift. The best friend squad were waiting for her at their usual table so they could give her a ride. 

‘Hey Catra. Can I speak to you out back?’ Lonnie asks, gesturing outside. 

What the heck, did she do something wrong? It’s been pretty peaceful as of late, and Catra tries to remember if she had done anything to Kyle recently. She nods, chucking her apron at the back as she tries not to notice Adora’s eyes following her. 

Catra goes out to the back of the store, the night air nipping at her shoulders. Lonnie waits for her there, biting her lip.

‘What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re giving me a raise.’ Catra jokes. 

Lonnie looks conflicted, and she takes a big breath. 

‘I’m sorry but our store isn’t doing so well. I know you’re turning 18, and that means we can’t afford to keep you on anymore.’

‘What…’ 

Catra felt numb, like she wasn’t really there in the back alley with Lonnie. It felt like an out of body experience. She could only stare at her, betrayed. 

Like Lonnie could read her mind, she tries to correct herself. ‘It wasn’t my decision, it was Octavia’s.’

Of course it was. Her regional manager was the reason she could never just swipe food while she was working. Octavia never liked her, she always reviewed the security cameras and told her off for goofing around. She must’ve known the door incident was on Catra’s shift, and what really happened despite Adora’s cover up. This ‘layoff’ was just an excuse to get rid of her from a financial standpoint. 

‘Thank you for all your hard work over these past 3 years. I know you’re going through a rough time, so we will of course give you a recommendation.’

Catra just nods. 

She returns to her shift, robotically going through the motions. Catra doesn’t even say anything sassy when Adora asks for a burger with no patty and no onions and no sauce, only cheese on bread.

The lack of a clever comeback to their gag routine has Adora concerned. ‘Are you okay?’ 

Of course she wasn’t. How could she be? She was going to have to vacate her garage space, not like she had anywhere to put her furniture in. What the hell was she going to do? 

‘I’m fine.’ She says, even though tears were threatening to burn a hole in the back of her eyelids. ‘Just...rough day.’ 

‘It’s your birthday! The party will cheer you up.’ Bow says brightly. ‘I have the sickest playlist of all time, you're gonna love it.' 

'My mum isn’t home so we have free reign over the entire house! Come on girl, let's get you changed!' Glimmer crows, too excited about the party to pick up on Catra's mood. 'Makeover time!!' 

The two of them force her into Glimmer's Mercedes, on their way to buy every alcohol imaginable from the bottle shop before they go to her house. 

The last thing Catra wanted to do was play dress up or even go to her party, but Adora had planned for so long for this. It would definitely ruin the entire night if she refused to go. 

Out of all the times they had hung out, she’s never been to Adora’s house. She leans her head against the window when they drive into the fancy part of town, by the lakeside with the multi-million dollar yachts parked in the water. 

That still doesn't prepare Catra for when security lets them in through the black gates to the biggest mansion she’s ever seen. There were fountains, perfectly manicured lawns, a tennis court, and was that a helicopter pad?! 

It was incredible, Catra could only walk in a daze with her jaw dropped on their polished marble floors. So Glimmer was rich, rich. No wonder she was put out that Adora had her 18th birthday at Burger King. 

Catra looks at Adora with a dumbfounded expression, and the blonde looks almost embarrassed when they have to get into an elevator to go to her room. 

Glimmer picks out a hybrid of clothes from her and Adora's closets. The walk-in wardrobe is huge, like a department store full of designer clothes, shoes, jewellery and bags. 

Her wardrobe alone is the size of Catra's home. The brunette suddenly understands why Adora cried upon seeing her concrete garage space. Looking at it, she wanted to cry too. 

Glimmer sets her down on her huge poster bed as she brings out a checkered crop top, ripped black garter shorts and an expensive looking black leather jacket with a gold trim. While Catra reluctantly gets changed, Glimmer picks out a pair of black strappy heeled boots and a hair straightener to battle the bush on Catra’s head. 

She sits still while Glimmer goes to work on her face, bringing out an entire Sephora’s worth of makeup. When Catra looks in the vanity mirror, she almost doesn’t recognize herself. Her eyes were framed with false eyelashes, a swooping cateye, smokey eyeshadow, sharp contour and her lips were now cherry red with bold lipstick. Glimmer applies the finishing touches with silver rings and clip on piercings. 

She hears Adora inhale with shock from the staircase in her bedroom. 

‘Catra you look incredible!’ She gasps. Adora was wearing this cute backless white dress tied with strings, short enough that it cropped above her knees. She was wearing sparkly wedges to go with it, and her hair was curled instead of her usual ponytail. Her delicate gold sword necklace frames her collarbones. 

Catra’s throat goes dry. ‘Uh- You too.’ 

Glimmer smirks, satisfied with her work. She gets changed into her own outfit, a short purple tulle lace dress with a white fur trim and a cute Gucci clutch to accompany it. The pink haired girl spritzes them all with her various floral and sea spray scented perfumes before they head back downstairs.

‘Wow you guys look amazing!’ Scorpia marvels, and Adora’s friends voice their approval as well.

‘Gosh this place is crazy.’ Scorpia whispers to Catra. ‘Did you see their pool? We should’ve just held the swimming carnival here!’ 

Catra opens her mouth to tell her how Lonnie had let her go, but Sea Hawk’s booming voice interrupts them. 

'I challenge you to the ultimate game of BEER PONG!' Sea Hawk announces, spinning the ball on his fingertips. 

Of course this gets everyone's competitive spirit going, and everyone gets into pairs. 

After a few drinks Catra has almost forgotten what she was worrying about earlier, too focused on the buzz. Her and Adora demolish the other teams by a landslide with their impeccable aim. 

Soon the attendants came out with dinner, and it was lavish with every food you could imagine. Lobster, kobe beef, hor d'oeuvres, beluga caviar, kale, and opulent ice cream were all among the plates of food on the table.

They bring out a massive 3 tiered truffle cake, the words 'Happy Birthday' written with an oddly crude drawing of Catra. 

'You drew this?' She asks, and Adora nods happily. 'You worked so hard on mine, so.' Catra doesn’t have the heart to tell her that the cake was $7 and the drawing of her forehead was meant as an insult. 

They sing the birthday song for her, and this time no one brings up the cake cutting tradition. 

After dinner they sit outside in the garden around the bonfire Sea Hawk had made. He was drunkenly singing a loud shanty while Bow piled in the wood, fanning the flames. Frosta sips on a mocktail, the only one there who wasn’t old enough to drink yet. The fire flickers and dances, casting shadows around them. 

Catra downs a few more cocktails and jello shots as she waits for Mermista to light up some fireworks. Apparently it was illegal, but Mermista just waved her off, telling her that she’ll just pay the penalty fee as Catra’s birthday gift. Sea Hawk really did rub off on her. 

When she successfully sets them off they light up the sky in dazzling multicoloured sparks. Adora’s friends whoop with glee, taking photos and videos to commemorate the moment. 

Adora's side profile is lit up in the dark, and she looks impossibly beautiful among the backdrop of stars. Longing tears at her chest, Catra wants to hold her hand but her throat feels too tight and she can’t move. The truth was that she knew she had always had feelings for Adora, even back when they were just kids back in the foster home. But like a coward, she could never voice them for fear of Adora leaving her side. 

A loud neighing can be heard from the stables in response to the loud booming noises from the fireworks. 

'Swifty!' Adora says, standing up. The moment's breaks and Catra reels back her hand. 'Stay here, I'll be right back.' 

Her chance disappears, she couldn’t say it after all. She watches her go tend to her horse, feeling stupid. 

‘Yoohoo~, want a rematch?’ Sea Hawk calls out from the patio, pouring vodka into tiny glasses. 

‘Don’t mind if I do.’ Catra replies. She definitely didn’t know her alcohol tolerance levels yet, so it was the perfect time to take that to the test. 

Catra confidently does a whole line of shots, determined to drink herself into unconsciousness. Every time she sees a flash of Lonnie or Adora’s face in her mind, she takes another swig. Everyone is cheering her on, screaming the song ‘Shots’ over and over again, also all drunk out of their minds. Sea Hawk taps out at the 5th drink, and everyone screams at Catra’s flawless victory. Scorpia lifts her into the air to do a victory lap, cheering. 

Adora finally makes an appearance, alerted by the sound of Catra's shrieky laughter as Scorpia swings her around. 

‘Don’t worry, I can take it from here.’ Her school captain says pulling Catra away from her friend. Scorpia just shrugs and makes her way to the food table.

‘Catra, maybe you should slow down.’ Adora tells the giggling girl in her arms. 

‘Noo way.’ She slurs, she was enjoying the feeling too much, the alcohol burning through her body, making her feel lightheaded. The light up disco dancefloor starts to blur into a kaleidoscope of colours. 

‘You got some weed?’ Catra asks, seeing Perfuma light a bowl. The taller girl hands her an already rolled up one and Catra snatches it to take a long drag. The smoke hits her lungs and she starts coughing. 

‘Oi Perfuma, why did you bring drugs? Angella will kill me!' Adora gripes, trying to wrestle the blunt away from Catra. 

‘Aw don't be like that! I made some edibles for you guys to try.’ Perfuma says cheerfully, pointing to the pot brownies. 

‘See? Scorpia likes them.’ She gestures at the other girl, who seemed to be currently tripping out of her mind and eating everything on the table. 

Catra goes to reach for one, but Adora grabs her by the wrist to lead her back inside. 'Alright, you're done for the night. Everyone say bye!' 

‘Byee Catra!’

‘Happy birthday!!’

Adora grabs her by the waist to lead her to her bedroom, Catra wobbling after her in the heels Glimmer lent her. 

'Ugh Adoraaa, don't be such a party pooper. I'm fine.' She moans, leaning heavily on the other girl. 'Don't you have a shift tomorrow afternoon? I don't want you getting hungover or drug tested.' Adora chides, rummaging around the dark for the light switch. 

Catra snorts. 'Oh you don't have to worry about that anymore. Got laid off.' 

Adora looks at her in confusion, until realization dawns on her. 'Wait, is that why Lonnie took you outside?' 

'Say, I never got to give you your birthday gift.' Catra pushes her hair back, voice sultry as she flings off her jacket. She never pinned herself down as a horny drunk, but here they were. Catra shoves Adora onto the bed, straddling her. Her golden hair spills over the mattress, soft like spun silk. 

'You still want that kiss?' Catra whispers in Adora's now burning red ear. 'My knife touched the bottom.' 

Adora's face now resembled a fire truck, mouth gaping in shock.

'C-Catra, I…' 

Catra presses their lips together, silencing her. She knows she probably tastes like alcohol and weed right now, but she couldn't care less in the moment. Adora's mouth is still slack jawed from mortification, so she takes the opportunity for tongue. She frowns and moves down to her neck when Adora doesn’t return the kiss. 

'Catra, what are you doing-' 

Catra bites down on Adora's nape. The blonde underneath her lets out a soft gasp, arching her back. Her gold manicured nails dig into her shoulder. 

'Stop, you're not thinking straight-!' 

'Sure ain't.' Catra grins, licking a stripe down the base of her neck. Adora’s necklace chain jingles with the movement. There was now an impressive hickey there, blooming violet on her pale skin. She pauses to admire her handiwork. 

'This isn't you talking, you'll, you'll regret this in the morning.' Adora stutters. She's shivering, their hands now laced together, silver rings clanking. 

 'I know. I don't care.' She replies, kissing her again. Adora's teeth nick her lip. The alcohol in her system makes her feel lightheaded, confident. No way would she have managed this sober. Adora tastes better than she does, sweet like blueberry soju. Catra's hands wander down further, pulling the strings to untie the back of her dress-

'Catra stop!' Adora suddenly shouts, striking Catra across the cheek in a deafening slap. 

Adora's eyes were blazing, almost teary in the dark. Her breathing was irregular, panting in and out. Catra stills, clutching her cheek. The look in her eyes sobered her immediately. 

Adora looks down at her palm, realizing what she just did. 'Sorry for hitting you!' She flounders. 'It's just that, you're only doing this because you’re drunk and upset, right?’

Catra just stares at her before climbing off. Cold realization settles as the fog in her brain clears. 'You're right. Forget it.' 

She sits on the edge of the bed, numbly watching Adora hurriedly trying to re-tie the back of her now wrinkled dress. Her lips are stained with Catra’s red lipstick. 

Adora catches her looking, and she quickly turns away to smooth down her hair with her fingers. 'You've had more than enough to drink tonight. I’ll get you some water to clear your head.’

She gets up to turn on the light switch, and Catra blinks in the harsh light from the chandeliers. 

‘Come on, let’s get you sobered up, okay?’ Adora leads her to the kitchen on the same floor, gingerly placing her friend on the slippery bar stool. 

The blonde goes to get the chilled jug of infused water from the fridge and pours it into a glass. Adora slides it across the island, and Catra reluctantly takes it. She sips at it, mint and lemon on her tongue. It tasted way better than her hose water. 

‘I’ll uh, pick out some groceries for you since we’re here and all.’ Adora says awkwardly into the silence, turning around to rummage through her pantry. 

Suddenly Catra is brought back to the whole reason why she was sitting here in this oversized mansion in the first place. Their friendship agreement. The one she had just violated. Catra had never felt more stupid to mistake Adora’s kindness and guilt for actual feelings. She felt like a charity case, waiting to collect food from the soup kitchen.

Of course Adora didn't like her back. She just saw her as someone needing to be saved. The product of survival guilt. Catra wanted to whack her head on the corner of her marbled countertop and not wake up. 

Adora takes out a green plastic bag, and starts filling it with everything and anything she can get. Cans, pasta, biscuits, fruits and vegetables. Actually this feeling was more like being one of those poor kids that white girls would pose next to for their Instagram after their trip to Africa. 

Did Adora have fun, volunteering to slum it up in her place while she returned here? All she ever wanted her entire life was to be Adora’s equal. 

Scorpia and Sea Hawk's loud laughter and DJ music can be heard downstairs in the garden, beyond the tall golden trimmed windows. The class difference between them stretched like an unfathomable canyon. Living the classy bougie dream until the clock struck midnight and she was back in her run down garage. Except soon she won’t even have that anymore. Why did Adora have to bring her here? It was almost cruel. 

Catra's suddenly overcome with the urge to vomit. She nearly falls off the high chair in her rush to throw up the unholy cocktail of alcohol into the sink. Tears bead in her eyes from the sour taste as she continues to vomit out everything she ate that night. She can feel Adora by her side, patting her back reassuringly.

It was by far the worst birthday she has ever had. 

--

The morning of, Catra woke up in Adora’s bed with a splitting headache. 

Unfortunately she was not given the gift of amnesia, as she vividly remembered every last excruciating detail about last night. 

She spots Adora’s mop of blonde hair under a blanket on the floor, even though there were a billion other free spare rooms to sleep in. Adora was probably too afraid to share the same bed as her now.

Catra’s borrowed crop top digs uncomfortably into her skin, and she angrily flings it off her body. The shorts stick to her like a second skin, smelling of tequila. She grabs her old Burger King uniform and puts it on, though even this didn’t belong to her now. 

Adora shifts in her sleep, and Catra lightly steps over her to get to the door. The last thing she wanted was for Adora to wake up. 

As soon as she’s out, she runs out to the elevator and bangs frantically on the buttons until it sends her to the bottom floor. The lift opens with a ding and in her haste she almost crashes headfirst into Glimmer. 

‘Oh hey! Are you going to work?’ Glimmer greets. She was in her silk pajamas and slippers, holding a glass of orange juice. 

‘Uh. Yeah.’ Catra lies, trying her best to look natural. 

‘Some party last night huh? Lucky today is a Saturday.’ Glimmer says conversationally, unaware of Catra’s urge to throw her across the room. ‘Hey, what happened to your cheek?’

Catra clutches her face, it still strung from where Adora struck her. ‘Nothing.’

Glimmer raises an eyebrow. ‘Well anyway, did you wanna stick around for  breakfast? The cooks made pancakes, bacon, eggs, the whole deal.' She peeks behind Catra. 'Is Adora still not up yet?’ 

As much as Catra wanted to scream get out of my way she schools her expression to her best customer service smile. ‘Nope she’s still sleeping it off. Anyway I’m gonna be late so I can’t stick around.’

‘Did you need a lift?’ Glimmer asks. It dawns on the brunette she couldn’t exactly run the entire way back home. ‘I’ll ask one of the drivers to take you back so you make it to your shift.’

Catra thanks her lucky stars that Glimmer was still too hungover to drive her. She wouldn’t have been able to dodge her questions if she had. 

‘Yes please.’ Catra says, giddy with relief. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘Ooh and before I forget, Adora told me last night to give you this.’ Glimmer says, grabbing the green bag of groceries off the counter. The shorter girl bundles it into Catra’s arms before she can object. 

‘Get home safe.’ She says, waving as the attendant leads her out the door. 

Catra looks down at the cans of food in her arms and doesn’t say anything.  

------

The days leading up to graduation were painful, to say the least. 

They more or less pretend the kiss didn't happen. Adora never brings it up, and neither does Catra. 

She would stare at the ceiling, wishing she had never gotten piss drunk at her birthday and kissed her. Adora was right, she did regret it. It was awful, the look on Adora's face when she slapped Catra replays in her mind and nightmares over and over again. It was mortifying. 

Adora still messages her every 3 days, and Catra still replies, though her words are empty and devoid of banter. I'm worried about you, she says. I'm fine, Catra always responds. 

The brunette continues to humour her to keep the peace, only shutting down when her old job was mentioned. Catra doesn’t allow Adora back into her home again. 

Sometimes they study together, but she can't concentrate when Adora wears her glasses. Her heart hurts, so she cradles her cheek and tries not to remember. 

The hickey she had branded Adora's neck with had been covered with foundation until it faded away. None of her friends had teased her about it, so she clearly had not told a single soul what had happened. 

Catra bites at the scab on her lip from where Adora’s teeth nicked her until it bleeds. She wants to apologize, but the words stick on her tongue and she can't bring herself to talk about that night. 

Catra knew Adora was only here by her side to alleviate her guilt. Shame buries itself under her skin every time she's near her, like she was too embarrassed to even exist in the same space as Adora. She wants to disappear. 

Exams are hard, and without an internet connection after the library closes at 6pm made it difficult to study. She tries to use the Mcdonald's wifi but soon just ordering a water cup wasn't enough for the workers to let her stay. It was a fruitless effort anyway, in her heart she knew she wasn't going to come out on top. Her ranking had slipped, she wasn't even at second place anymore. Rent was due at the end of the month, and without her Burger King wage she knew she'll be kicked out sooner than later. 

Catra felt stressed and self destructive, and the only thing that kept her from falling off the edge completely was Scorpia. As much as she hated depending on others, she'd much rather her old coworker than Adora. 

Her classmates seemed to like this new, muted down version of Catra who didn't argue and just stayed quiet most of the time. Fighting back was too difficult when all she wanted to do was blend into the wallpaper. All they talked about was where they were going for vacation after graduation, and Catra certainly had nothing to contribute to that conversation.

She felt like crying, all the time. It was agony, wanting to burst out into tears randomly while she sat wasting away in the student council room. Despite herself, she missed Burger King, and she just kept getting ghosted or rejected in her other job applications. Sometimes when she really wanted to indulge herself, she'd go cry silently in the school toilet stall. 

Glimmer notices the change, and she catches her glaring. 'You don't seem as alive lately. Your eye bags are huge.' 

'S'fine.' Catra replies, hiding her hands so she doesn't see how they shake. Honestly Catra couldn't remember the last time she slept.

'Pfft, don't lie to me. Adora's worried about you. You're getting skinnier, and your eyes are always raw. All you do is stare into space.' 

Catra bites down on her nails. Of course she knew that. But she's gone through this before, and she'll do it again. 

'What happened between you two?’ 

‘None of your business.’ Catra replies, shuffling her way to the hall. 

--

Their graduation ceremony starts off uneventfully. Every student’s parents except Catra’s sit proudly in the audience, eager to watch their kid graduate. One by one they receive their certificate and return to their seats. 

Adora and Catra stand side by side onstage, as Adora makes their final speech as School Captain. Through the blinding lights, she sees Angella waving proudly at her adoptive daughter in the crowd. 

Catra looks at Adora in the corner of her eye. She must look pathetic, lovesick and pining after someone she couldn’t have. 

‘It’s been such an honour serving the entire faculty and students of this school. I couldn’t have done it without my amazing Vice-Captain and all of my prefects.

Now I’m proud to hand over my badge to the next School Captain, Frosta.’ 

They go through the rest of the ceremony like that, each member of the student council handing their badges to their successors. 

Soon their Principal comes up to the podium, tapping it once and clearing her throat. 

‘Announcing our honor student, and the winner of the scholarship to Eternia University…’ Castaspella says, turning over the sign card. 

‘None other than our school captain, Adora!’

Everyone starts clapping, and Adora walks across the stage to shake Castaspella's hand. 

Sounded about right. Catra never won against Adora in her entire life. She had already expected this outcome. Like a game of cat and mouse, going over and over for all eternity. 

Adora would excel with her elite education and secure a well paying job. Catra would struggle at the bottom indefinitely, never amounting to anything. She never would, if Adora was still there next to her. When the blonde re-entered her life, everything she had been working towards for years just collapsed. Her job, her home, her School Captain status, her chance at the scholarship, her sanity. 

She had to be wiped clean. A fresh start. 

The flower petals were falling, the streets decorated with a vibrant pink. The other students mill out of the crowd with their parents, chatting excitedly about what was next in their futures. She waits for Adora underneath a tree.  

'Congratulations.' Catra says, when she finally spots the other girl in the crowd. Adora pulls away from Angella’s embrace to meet her. 

'You deserve this so much more than I do.' Adora says, her voice pained like she didn't just win a full ride to her dream university. 'You should take it.'

'It's in your name, silly.' Catra replies, lightly tapping her with her rolled up certificate.

'Besides, I knew you'd get into Eternia, so I never applied.'

Adora blinks dumbly. '...What? Aren’t we going to the same university?’ 

She always was a bit slow on the uptake. ‘Only you decided that, stuupid. Say, it's about time we ended this right?' 

‘Catra, what are you...' 

'Our deal. You don't need to feel guilty anymore or bring me anything.' Catra says, her voice sounding like it didn't belong to her. She rummages in her bag, bringing out Adora's spare varsity jacket that she hadn’t returned. 'Here, take this. Thank you for all the help.' 

'What do you mean? You want to stop being friends?' Adora says in disbelief, taking the jacket.  

Catra nods. ‘I can’t continue with the arrangement. I hope you understand.’ 

‘I don’t! Was I the only one who thought we were friends, real ones?’ Adora asks.

‘...That’s right. I never saw you as a friend. You were just a meal ticket to me. Are you happy now?’ Catra snaps back. Shit, that wasn’t what she meant to say. She had planned to end this quickly and painlessly, on a high note. Trust Adora to put up a fight. 

Something seems to click in Adora’s brain. ‘Is this about the night of the party?’

‘Figure that out yourself.’ Catra replies, turning to walk away. 

Adora grabs onto her arm. ‘Wait! If- if that’s what you want, I’ll give it! Just don't go!' 

This dumb blonde really was offering up her body, out of what? A sense of duty? How stupid. 

‘Is that right?’ Catra says, walking closer to her. Adora backs up until she is pinned to the tree. They’re face to face now. 

‘Can you really do this?’ Catra lifts Adora’s chin by a finger. 

Finally it seems to dawn on Adora exactly what Catra wanted. She swallows, biting her lip. 

There’s a flicker of hesitation, before Adora’s eyes squeeze shut defiantly. The blonde is shaking like a leaf, her breath coming out in panicked stutters from her pursed lips. 

Catra just stares at Adora’s scrunched up face impassively. Her scared reaction was the only confirmation she needed for closure. 

She flicks the other girl’s forehead, and her big blue eyes open in confusion.

‘Chill out, I’m not that evil to do it to someone so unwilling.’

Adora blinks, clutching her forehead. ‘Catra?’

Suddenly Angella’s voice cuts through their conversation from the car park. ‘Adora dear, are you done chatting with your friend? We have reservations!'

‘Um, I…’ Her old school captain opens her mouth to say something, but Angella's started to lose her patience. 'Adora, how long are you going to stand there? Glimmer is already waiting for us at the restaurant!' 

Catra just smiles tiredly. ‘Take care, dummy.’ 

She watches Adora being dragged off unwillingly by her adoptive mother to the car. 

Catra lets out a sigh. Her phone pings with a message from Scorpia, and she knows it's time to go. 

---

By the time Angella releases her from their graduation celebration, Adora can feel that it's already too late.

Adora: 

Please, can we talk? Let me fix this

A pop up appears over the screen. 

Message Not Sent

This person isn't receiving messages at this time. 

Adora sends another message, but they all go undelivered. Catra had blocked her again. Panic spikes through her veins, and she quickly dons on a jacket and grabs her car keys. 

She sneaks out that night, down the familiar winding path through the bush that led to Catra's place. 

'Catra?' She rolls up the garage door, blinking in the darkness. When her eyes adjusted, she found Catra's old home completely emptied. 

All the furniture and items her friend had collected over the years, they were all gone. The little stove where they cooked, the old mattress where they talked late into the night, all vanished like they were never there. 

A single green plastic bag remained on the floor untouched, filled to the brim of food.