#and then the girl who recently moved in with her summer dresses and expensive clothes. pretty and makes friends with the two rascals

[cedobols]

still alive. me and my friends wc oc's as kids: dove, fox and little

[writerfangirlbooks]

Bobby’s Daughter Part 1

Dean x Y/N

Prompt: Imagine flirting with Dean Winchester before he finds out you're Bobby's daughter.

A/N: I know Bobby never had children, but let's imagine for now. I've got a cool idea, for the most part, to go with this prompt. As always, feel free to request any ideas you would like me to write! I've had quite a few Dean ones recently and even more coming up soon. Thanks for sticking with me. Also, I just can't write a story without a backstory, I just need it desperately haha, so enjoy this midnight mess. And uhh, this one gets a little steamier than the others, just a heads up. Also this one is getting multiple parts! Word Count: 1800

Credit to gif owner!

It took you long enough to convince your dad to so much as let you hunt by yourself.

You heard the story of your mom once, and only once. Your dad hated discussing what happened to her. It broke his heart, losing the love of his life. Bobby often declared he didn't know what he would do without you, that you being born was a blessing and miracle tied into one burst of joy in this miserable man's life. That was quite a bit to live up to. Fortunately, you weren't stuck with him all of the time. Once he stopped homeschooling you, you were able to have real interactions and get to know the real world.

Every once and a while, a friend of your father would drop his sons off at the doorsteps to watch for endless amounts of time. Sure, the boys were a couple of years younger, but at least they never said you had cooties. They were excited to be with Uncle Bobby, though they weren't related. It occasionally made you doubt your place in his heart, wondering if he wished you had been born a son instead. However, it was nice to not be made fun of not having a mom and having a drunkard for a father. You saw the brothers young and at one point, hadn't seen them since. It wasn't uncommon for traveling hunters to occasionally leave their children for a weekend or two, so you didn't easily remember all of their names.

Growing up a female was tricky in small-town Iowa, even more so as a hunter. Your father spent some time away hunting when things began to go awry in nearby towns. You started public middle school around age eleven, but your father feared you were simply too young to spend nights by yourself, and you didn't exactly have a bunch of friends to spend the nights at. That ended up causing extra frustration and stress on his plate before you suggested an idea you watched on television: private school.

In a way, Bobby was a better father after you went away. You became more outgoing, learned what it meant to be a lady, and more importantly, how to use that to your advantage. You were encouraged to learn other languages, try extracurriculars. So you did, studying Spanish and French for the rest of your education. You joined the photography club, acted in theatre, and played soccer. You went home on holiday breaks, summer being your favorite as it meant spending more time with your dad. He did his best to be home as often as possible. You got excited to fix cars if it meant spending time with him. Despite his protests, you felt encouraged to hunt, so he gave you pointers. It was years before around age sixteen, he finally allowed your first solo hunt. It was thrilling and unsurprisingly, it went great. He preferred playing board games and watching television with you, making him overall pretty chill.

The one thing he was not a cool dad came to your dating life. You tried getting a boyfriend young and Bobby insisted on meeting him before your first dance. Let's just say the two of you didn't leave together by the end of the night. He was more lenient toward regular, mediocre guys. His one rule was the most adamant: don't date hunters. Fortunately enough for you, most hunters were around your dad's age, so, very much not your type.

That could lead to some very lonely tonights as you became an adult, leading to one night stands in apartments. Of course, you skipped past the whole college scene. Far too expensive and not something you seemed interested in, anyway. Despite your father's protests, you decided to spend time traveling rather than staying with him. You had gotten used to your independence and was somehow nearing thirty way too quickly. You considered yourself content in life. You were a darn good hunter, a woman that could hold her alcohol, and a successful freelance photographer. You weren't sure where your dad's income came from and you decided it best not to ask, sticking to making an honest living while hunting as often as possible.

It was late summer and Bobby's birthday was coming up soon. Although he hated celebrating, you made sure to be around during this time. It just so happened to coincide with a case you were tracking. You figured you would surprise him tomorrow evening and make his favorite dinner. For now, though, you rented a small apartment half an hour away. You felt motels were dirty and a bit pathetic. You did have some class, after all.

Tonight you were looking for a good time, clothed in one of your favorite dresses, with matching heels and handbag. You headed to the bar, pulled up a chair, and ordered your favorite margarita. Soon enough, a man's build and shadow blocked your view of the door. He cleared his throat and you turned your head, taking in the view of messy brown hair and mischievous green eyes attached to a face full of sun-kissed freckles. The man wore nothing special, just regular jeans and a plaid shirt layered with a hunter-green jacket. It was a look that fits well in Iowa, but his voice showed quickly he was not raised here.

"Not a beer girl, huh?" He asked, raising an eyebrow towards your bright colored drink. You did a quick assessment and deemed this man as not a threat. He could be just what you were looking for. As you began to speak, you watched his attentive gaze dip from your eyes to your lips then back again.

"Not quite my style. I like something a little sweeter," you said with a small smile. Leaning back in your chair, you aimlessly twirled the straw around in your drink as you looked back up to the handsome stranger.

He draped an arm around your chair, his fingers lightly brushing your shoulders in the process. "Then feel free to call me sugar, sweetheart," he said. His eyes crinkled with the flirty grin. You wanted to laugh at what a bad line it was but figured his looks could make up for a lacking game. You bit back your smile by licking your lips and tacking a long sip of your drink.

"Well, I don't know about that, but you can call me Y/N," you offered.

The conversation quickly led into basic first date questions, leading you and the man who later introduced himself as Dean to realize you had quite a few similarities, such as bands, landmarks, and even pies. Neither of you was able to persuade the other to change interest in alcohol. Once you got to the topic of cars, you had lost track of time. Dean claimed to have an older Impala and was eager to show you. You were used to the ploys of cool cars to get a woman outside, but you weren't objecting to where the night was headed. You were left intrigued and somewhat shocked that someone this good looking was actually telling the truth about having such a well kept and beautiful vehicle. You were hoping to get the chance to impress him with your own knowledge about cars at some point if things actually made it past three am leavings, which was typically not likely.

When Dean proposed the invitation, he noticed your response was less than immediate. You didn't mean to hesitate but was trying to work out to tell him how you did not feel comfortable leaving your own car in the bar parking lot. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly. It typically wouldn't have been that noticeable except behavior change was something you studied in school when taught how to create poses for your photos. His green eyes were bright and eager, reflecting from the yellow lights outside of the bar.

"I, uh, if you're not interested... we don't have to..." Dean began stuttering, changing pace. He must not be used to rejection, you decided. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

You took one of Dean's hands, finding the new change endearing. Although it could've been funny to turn down someone that seemed like a player and innate flirter, that was not your plan for tonight. "Dean, I'm fine. I just don't like to leave my car, so if you want to follow, or go with me, back to my place?" You offered. You tilted your head, waiting for an answer.

He nodded. His grin had returned widely and he used his other hand to indicate for me to lead the way. And off Dean and you went. The two of you stumbled into your apartment in half the time it should have taken you to get back. Dean's chatter filled your ears up until you unlocked the door to your room.

Your keys were tossed onto the television stand while shoes were being kicked off against the closet door. Heat filled the room as your bodies filled the bed, disregarding your clothes and newness to one another. You felt much more connected as Dean kissed you, a sense of familiarity in his warmth and scent. It began with an intense and heavy makeout before his lips left yours, and began to trail down your neck, continuing further as time ticked away. The clock on the wall was the only sound you could hear besides your ragged breathing and the squeaks of the bed. The sheets were too weak for your grip, so you moved your nails into his back. You could feel his smiles trace your skin. You couldn't help but shudder when Dean whispered into your ear. It was a beautifully messy sight, watching Dean and you move as one, clinging to one another. Your eyelids fluttered, unsure of where to focus as the sensations grew stronger. Arching your head back to allow more room elsewhere, you thought you had lost your voice before one simple movement reminded you how to speak, urging you to call out Dean's name.

The night carried on for much longer.

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[trilies]

an argument for AO3

So I’m in a conversation with someone who is kind of in the “against AO3″ camp, and they asked me a couple of questions. Namely, who wouldn’t be uncomfortable with pedophilia? Isn’t it sketchy that a beta website is asking for so much money despite reaching its goals?

And my answer became so long... I figured it might as well become its own post. Please bear in mind that this is cut from a whole conversation.

But here it is.

------

No. It doesn't seem sketchy to me at all. Why would it? I know we make jokes about how much money tumblr has cost the various sites which purchase it like Yahoo, but there's some truth there: it's really expensive to host a website to thousands and thousands of people. It's why we see so many tumblr owners trying to shoehorn in ads or make people buy services, or why Photobucket tried to pull that truly atrocious bullshit a year or two back. Without image hosting capabilities (tumblr and photobucket's big thing), the strain isn't as huge.... but AO3 is MASSIVE. It is hosting literally thousands of accounts, millions of stories. That's massive on a server scale alone, ignoring all the other work they do. Yeah, it's in beta... but that's because it's trying to reach a goal of being as good a fanfic archive as they can be, and they don't believe they've reached that goal yet. Being in beta means they can better listen to their uses on shit like tagging systems and make those changes. Not to mention, again, they are INCREDIBLY transparent. If you are worried about where the money is going, you can go on the site and they have all their stuff up there.

As for the pedophilia subject matter.... Please give me a moment. because there's honestly a lot to say on that particular issue, if nothing else. This will take a while, so if you see this and there hasn't been a reply yet.... I'm still typing lmao.

To start with, of course people are uncomfortable about pedophilia. However, there are a lot of problems with how pedophilia is viewed or *used* as an accusation in the current fandom climate.

For example, in honestly EXTREMELY recent times, I was told I was "defending" pedophilia because I disagreed that a character (an immortal food gijinka) was "minor-coded" or "designed as an underage teenager". (As a note, an argument for this view was that the character's breasts were too small.) When I pointed out, hey, that's kind of a fucked up accusation to throw at a complete stranger, especially as I am a CSA survivor, I was told "You have to be lying about that, then, because a real CSA survivor would understand."

c o o l

That's just my personal experience that happened within a couple of months. Other people have talked about running into people who think that a character turning 18 means they're a pedophile for still dating a 17 year old. Or running into people who think a 40 year old dating someone in their 30s is pedophilic. Or believe that even SHIPPING characters who were not yet 18 was pedophilic if you yourself were over 18.

(Of course, you also have the kinds of people who try to use Moral Purity as a way to bash ships they don't like. I once saw someone try to claim that a popular mlm ship, A/B, was pedophilic because one half of the equation looked young.... when some other artists drew him... Of course, on the side, this person liked to also get angry that *their* favorite ship, a dude/chick ship composing of A/C, wasn't more popular. So. You know.)

So that's one half of the problem: the word "pedophile" being so warped that a lot of people now have no idea if the person using it has a genuine concern or if the accuser is trying to smear someone who doesn't ship the same thing. FFnet and Tumblr have gone with the "burn it all down" approach, which hasn't actually helped anyone and is, to boot, sloppily moderated. So we know from history, from experience in cases like mine, that it doesn't help in that area.

The other half of the problem is... How far is too far?

This is where "anti" culture begins to find similarities with the whole Warriors for Innocence thing. If you completely and blindly block an entire tag, or anyone associated with it, you have to ask: who are you hurting? Warriors for Innocence hurt actual rape victim, and queer folk, and a whole lot of others. Far as I can tell, anti culture is on the route to the same thing, because I have yet to see appropriate answers to a lot of issues.

If one says "anything with underage sex in it is bad and should be banned", what about fics that tackle it in a serious manner? The young adult novel "Speak" deals with rape of an underage girl and how she works through that mental trauma; are fics with stories equivalent to that allowed? Do fics with underage sex have to focus purely on how it is Horrible And Bad to be allowed? Does only a chapter have to be allowed? A paragraph? An author's note? A tag? Or are we allowed to never explore dark subject matter?

Is fic with underage content in it only horrible if it's someone over the age of eighteen who writes it? Can a teenager write smut (terribly written as it may likely be) between teenage characters? Can a teenager write smut between a teenage character and an adult character? For the record, i did in fact, over the summer, run into someone who said that teens/minors "shouldn't even know about NSFW", which is asinine to me, because Abstinence Only is a terrible thing to put in schools, and somehow worse in a way when you try to put that into effect in fandom. If the answer is 'yes', what are you going to do, demand to see people's birth certificates in fandom?

(As a note, I think this is a terrible message to put into fandom for teenagers because I believe it will inevitably lead to self hatred and a warped view of sex. If you make the extremely simplified black-and-white statement of "teens and sex should never go together ever in any way", that's going to mess up teens who are starting to experience arousal in their bodies. The message, whether intended or not, ends up as "NSFW things are bad, which means my brain which thought NSFW thoughts is bad, and my brain thought those thoughts because my body had these feelings". )

(This is bad for any average teenager. This will be especially worse to CSA and rape victims, along with queer youth who, in a lot of places, are still struggling with their bodies and/or feelings because the world is still pretty damn queerphobic.)

Speaking of CSA and rape victims, what about those of them who write/read underage ships or dark content as a way to cope with what happened or Just Because? That's a thing lots of us do, especially those of us who don't look like the Perfect Victims people can use as an excuse for whatever crusade they're waging. I've heard anti types go "Well, it's an unhealthy way to cope" or claims that CSA/rape victims who write such dark content are "just as bad as their abusers"... But are they psychiatrists/therapists? Are they the psychiatrists/therapists of *those specific people*? Will you moderate this kind of content by forcefully interrogating CSA/rape victims to out their trauma to a complete stranger? Will you demand to speak to their therapists? Over fanfic?

When I was a teenager, I wrote all sorts of stuff. I wrote dark dub-con fic, because I liked to explore those dark feelings in the process and the aftermath separate from myself. I wrote a fic with a fairly young teenage girl (what age was kh2 kairi? who even knows, I sure didn't) falling for a MUCH older man built like a brick shit house so that there was never any doubt to him being an adult, even giving him her first kiss, because they were my favorite characters, I wanted both of them to have a moment of happiness (that i promptly ruined but hey), and, *in this fic*, I knew it would be alright. I knew the girl would always be in control, she'd be the one making moves, that the guy was nonthreatening and kind and protect her and work alongside her.

(and then I began the process of killing him off in the next paragraph through him saving her life, but, like. Drama (tm), baby)

This was all good for me. At an age where I was young, vulnerable, and figuring out weird shit like arousal and romantic feelings, it was *invaluable* to have a space where I could explore all of that while relatively safe from actual danger, even if the stuff I wanted to explore was a little messed up. This whole thing against AO3 wouldn't have helped me, and I'm pretty sure it's not helping a lot of other people too.

There is an issue with underage people and sex stuff- not just in fandom but in culture at large. We have Hollywood dressing up young girl actresses in super slinky or revealing clothes. We have schools saying girls basically should never wear shorts, and capitalism fucking this up further by only selling SUPER SHORT shorters. We have media of all sorts giving us adults, whether in real actors or character design, in the roles of young people. (See: "how do you do, fellow kids") We should probably take more care about fandom spaces, so that people of all ages don't feel pressured to engage in sexual shit they're not 100% game for or into, or just have it shoved into their faces without consent. It's a complex issue... and it's not stuff that can just be 'banned' and have that fix it.

AO3 has on its plate a very complex problem that will, if we're all honest, never have a perfect answer. It has given us the best that can possibly be asked for. It obeys the law by not having actual child pornography on it (aka visual proof of actual real children, defined by us law as such), which is closest to "objective" we can get at the current stage in humanity and state of fandom. It has a very comprehensive and moderated tag system, so that people can post warnings along their fic so that people don't stumble onto shit they don't need to, and so that people can moderate their own reading experience to some degree.

If some people aren't comfortable with AO3, that's fine. However, most of us are getting annoyed not with those people, but with the people who just blindly say "AO3 supports child porn and is probably stealing money" (statement simplified for the purpose of this post). It shows an ignorance of the fandom history that lead us here, no understanding in either AO3's practices or how expensive it is to run a site, and no consideration for how complex this problem can really be. It would be great if this was a black and white issue, if there was an easy answer as just "banning" certain kinds of content... but there isn't. And that's where I am.

[redthreadoffate]

daddy insecurities [arthur, ariadne, eames]

a repost, originally posted in my former writing blog

ship: arthur x ariadne, slight eames x valeria

warnings: swearing; edited thrice in a span of…a few minutes so mistakes may be present

notes: this is 1 of my 3 inception babies; i was still using a different voice then but nothing else has changed

summary: arthur is jealous. he’s very jealous. eames may not have gotten ariadne, but he sure is getting his children.

Things have been going great for Arthur and Ariadne. In their opinion, they weren’t taking their relationship too fast or too slow. After a year and a half of being engaged they got married. A year later they had Casey Luca Brandon, followed by Spencer Phyllira Brandon after another four years. They moved into a modern Victorian home not too far from the city once they started family planning, but keeping the apartment that they shared for the future—and desperate times.

When Ariadne was pregnant with Casey, she had to stop dream sharing. When Arthur first held Casey in his arms, he knew he wanted to be with his family every step of the way. So they agreed to stop dream sharing until the kids were old enough. As much as they wanted to quit permanently, they missed it too much. For now, they’re your regular but above average-looking family living in Paris.

So on this beautiful summer day, the whole family decided to go out of the house and bask in the ambiance of nature. They took a stroll around the city, had lunch near the Eiffel Tower and went shopping for some new clothes before settling down in a park. Arthur and Ariadne found a great spot under a tree and they laid on the grass as Spencer squealed while running—or waddling—to the playground with Casey holding her left hand and their dog, Coulson, on her other side.

“I don’t like the way he’s looking at her,” Arthur tells Ariadne. His jaw is clenched and his fingers are intertwined with his wife’s. “And I think he really wants to play with her.”

“They’re children, Arthur.” Ariadne rolls her eyes and looks at the man beside him. “Stop staring at him at least.” She turns back to the playground to watch her children building a sand castle. “Casey and Coulson are with her. They’ll be her knights in shining armor.”

And just as she says that he jerks forward a little. “Did you see that?”

Ariadne raises an eyebrow. “See what?’

"She looked at him.” His eyes dart to the boy on the other side of the playground. “Spencer saw that boy.”

“Arthur…”

“How’d she even know that he exists? He’s been behind her all this time!”

“Maybe she just happened to look that way. She’s two-years-old, Arthur. He looks just about her age or a little older. There’s nothing wrong with that. Calm down!”

Frowning, he rubs the bridge of his nose then sighs and leans down to rest his forehead on her shoulder. “Am I overreacting?”

“Yes. It’s very un-Arthur-like. Imagine if Eames was here.” She chuckles a little. “But I won’t be surprised if he suddenly does talk about it without even being here. He knows everything, it’s actually kind of scary. And really, who wouldn’t be weak when it comes to Spencer? Look at her!” She raises her free arm to gesture towards the little girl and boy a few feet away. “Look at them!”

Arthur looks over at his children. Both of them have more of Ariadne’s facial features. They both have brown locks and chocolate brown eyes. Spencer also acquired Ariadne’s natural waves while Casey’s hair is a little more straight. They even have some freckles on their nose. Arthur’s glad that they have Ariadne’s smile, it lights up his world when he sees all three. However, the way their eyes crinkle when they smile, their adorable dimples, thin lips and height come from Arthur. Unfortunately, they both have his ears, too. Ariadne and the kids love it but he doesn’t. Arthur’s very conscious about his ears.

Casey, who had just turned six, is starting the first grade in two months. He’s got both Ariadne’s creative brain and Arthur’s skills (or at least, starting to show signs of it). He loves building and sketching, and Ariadne’s excited to teach him a few tricks once he’s older. He also loves to dress up in Arthur’s suits. During his most recent birthday, Uncle Saito gave him his own suits, a custom made Armani, a three-piece Tom Ford, and the latest Gucci. And yes, they can imagine how Saito can get his hands on smaller sizes. There was a note attached to the gifts, ‘I see that he has Arthur’s taste. When he is older, I shall send the rest.’ And Saito always keeps his word.

Spencer, on the other hand, spends way too much time, in her two years of living, with Eames. He unexpectedly shows up in their house and brings the little girl out without their permission. The first few times he did that both the Point Man and the Architect panicked, fortunately, they’re rational thinkers (and Arthur has spent way too much time of his own life with the Forger). But the little girl loves Eames and is already starting to show signs of becoming a prankster.

“Add a little color to your life, darling,” he would say. And Eames adores the little girl. Always calling her princess and buying her unnecessary gifts. Whenever Arthur or Ariadne would scold him about spoiling the girl, he’d reply, “And you don’t? She’s got us all wrapped around her tiny finger.”

During dates with the Cobbs, Phillipa, now a high school graduate, and James, an incoming high school student, loves playing with them. Dom likes to think that it’s a second shot of being a parent. Saito constantly showers them with expensive gifts (and even promising on granting them a scholarship to whichever university they’d choose). Yusuf also shows his love for the kids by sending them trinkets from his trips around the world for conferences.

“You’re not going to lose her, Arthur,” Ariadne assures, “especially not at this age. And even if she does end up having a silly crush—”

“She’s too young for that,” he interrupts, which earns him a glare from the brunette beside him.

“She will never choose them over you.”

Arthur grumbles, “She chooses Eames over me all the time.”

“You know she loves you both equally,” she reminds him.

Arthur sighs and nods. When he looks up again, his eyes narrow. “What the fuck is he doing?”

“Arthur!”

“It’s Eames! He’s trying to take her away again!”

Ariadne looks at where the children are, and, sure enough, the English man is by the sandbox, holding the little girl by the waist, and talking to the six-year-old boy. Coulson is wagging his tail and sniffing the man with glee. “He’s not going to take her away in front of Casey, and this is one of her favorite spots, he knows that.”

Eames looks up and gives them a grin and a wave. Ariadne does the same while Arthur simply raises his hand in acknowledgement. He whispers to the little girl and then says something to the boy the Brandons can’t decipher. The brunettes nod happily before turning to their parents and giving them a wave with smiles on their faces. Ariadne giggles and, again, waves at them with a huge smile on her face. The scene of his children warms Arthur’s heart and immediately, he smiles, his eye crinkling and his dimples showing, and waves back at them.

“Maybe I won’t kill Eames today.”

“Your daughter would be heartbroken.”

Arthur nods. As he watches his children play with one of their godfathers the boy he had been fussing about earlier is walking towards the sandbox. “Ariadne?”

“Don’t stress, Arthur. He’s simply looking for a playmate, and besides, Eames is there. Doesn’t that relax you a little?”

“I suppose.”

“He’s pretty much their second father.”

“He’s just a suspicious boy.”

“Arthur, he’s probably only three.”

“Exactly, at that age, girls and boys don’t know that they can feel attraction!”

Ariadne rolls her eyes. “That boy probably thinks Spencer is a pretty little girl who seems to be having fun and who just might want to play. He just wants to be friends with Spencer! There’s nothing wrong with that. Stop being such a jealous father and let your daughter have some fun.”

“I’m not jealous,” Arthur snorts.

After a few minutes, the two see Eames kiss Spencer’s temple, stand and make his way towards them. “Darling,” he starts, “I can hear the two of you bicker over nonsense all the way over there.” He uses his thumb to point at the place he’d recently been in.

“Arthur’s just jealous,” Ariadne says.

“You should be, your children seem to like me more than you.”

Arthur glares. “Aren’t you due back to visit Valeria in Germany?”

“Val knows it’s hard for me to leave our godchildren. Do you want to get rid of me that easily?”

“Always.”

Eames chuckles. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

“They’re not.”

“Arthur’s just jealous that Spencer will start to replace him soon,” Ariadne supplies.

“He already has been replaced, ever since I showed up in the hospital when she was born. Even your own dog likes me better than him.”

Ariadne fails to suppress a soft laugh. “Not helping, Eames.”

“The only time I’ve seen this bloke get jealous was with you, love. It’s very amusing to see him all worked up over,” Eames looks behind him, “a three-year old boy,” he continues when he turns back. “You can probably take him down with a single move. He doesn’t seem to have much experience with hand-to-hand combat.”

“What’s his name?” Arthur asks.

“Are you going to check his records with your phone, darling?”

“No, his family’s. And not now, when we get back home. What’s his name, Eames?”

Ariadne rolls her eyes and Eames just shrugs. “Christopher.”

“Christopher what?”

“Robin.”

Arthur narrows his eyes. “Eames.”

After roaring with laughter, Eames says, “I’m surprised you know who that is.”

Ariadne laughs. “Having two children does that to him.”

A small smile escapes the dark haired man’s lips. “Give me his name, Eames.”

“All right, all right. It’s Christopher Mann, and that’s with a double 'n’. He’s a sweet child, really. I’d hate for you to find something in his record.”

“I just want to make sure that when this boy tells his family or anyone about playing with a little girl named Spencer and her brother named Casey with a dog named Coulson, I have nothing to worry about,” Arthur tells him. “It’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

Both Ariadne and Eames look at each other and sigh.

Arthur squeezes his wife’s hand. “I just want this family to be safe.”

Ariadne smiles. “I know.”

The three adults watch the three children play. Arthur hates to admit it but Spencer is enjoying the company of the new boy. “Where’s his family?” he wonders aloud.

“Over there,” Eames points at an older couple on the other side. They seem to be having a heated argument. “Christopher doesn’t like hearing them talk loudly. It makes him sad. Poor boy. His older brother is away in college so he’s very much alone at home.”

That breaks Arthur’s heart and he’s suddenly really happy that the children are getting along really well. He can’t imagine either Casey or Spencer being alone while he and Ariadne fight. Hell, he can’t even imagine him and Ariadne fighting when the children are within reach. Sure, they’ve had their share of arguments and cold shoulders when the kids are around, but they’d always make sure to keep their emotions in check until they’re alone.

The boy, Christopher, also seems to be having fun playing with Coulson. The dog sniffs the little boy before licking his face. “Even Coulson likes him,” Ariadne says with a little laugh. “It’s really just you, Arthur.”

About an hour later, Christopher’s mother calls him. “Chris! It’s time to go now, honey.” Arthur sees the boy frown. Christopher stands and pets Coulson one more time before waving at the two children he had recently befriended. Once he’s left, Spencer pouts and gives an exaggerated sigh. Casey pats her shoulder and tries to cheer her up, which seems to have worked.

“My princess is sad,” Eames observes, “it’s time to bring her to the ice cream parlour.”

“You’re really showing favoritism, aren’t you?” Ariadne says with a small smile.

“I do not, love. I also spoiled Casey when he was younger. But I suppose I have a softer heart for little girls.” He shrugs. “Hey, Arthur, would you rather teach Casey or Spencer?”

“Teach what?”

Eames groans. “Fighting, of course! We’re going to teach those children to defend themselves! They are definitely not going to be bullies—”

“Unless they hang out with you too much,” Arthur mutters.

“—so they will be bullied. We need to make sure that they’re feared!”

Ariadne rolls her eyes. “Eames…”

“Love, we cannot allow those two precious children be looked down upon.”

Arthur gives a little nod. “There’s no need for us to personally teach them unless we think that they need more. Ari and I have been talking about it; we’re planning on letting them take self-defense lessons. Casey would probably start soon and we’ll wait until Spencer is his age.”

Grinning, Eames says, “Perfect. I’ll be there in the waiting area.”

Ariadne smiles and Arthur can’t hide the smirk on his face.

When Arthur notes that the sun would be setting soon, Ariadne suggests that they head home. After getting some ice cream from the store they arrive in their grayish-white house and Eames mentions to them that he has nothing better to do and there’s nothing more he loves than spending time with the Brandon children. “You and Ariadne can have some grown-up time, yeah?”

“We don’t do grown-up time when the kids are at home,” Arthur mumbles. “Just don’t kidnap our children and you can stay for an hour.”

“You can stay for as long as you want, Eames,” Ariadne says as she helps Casey with a new shirt. “We’re having pasta for dinner.”

“Eames does love pasta,” the Forger tells them, licking his lips. He picks up Spencer just as she says, “Me!” Eames chuckles. “Everyone loves your mother’s pasta, princess. You should try Uncle Eames brownies.”

“Oh, dear God, no,” Arthur groans.

“Don’t you have some researching to do, darling?” Eames jokes.

“I just have to make sure that you’re not going to make a run for it.” Arthur shakes his head and heads for his study. “Come, Coulson.” And the dog happily follows him inside.

“Your daddy is a strange man, princess.”

Spencer grins. “Daddy!”

Less than an hour later, Arthur emerges from his study and walks back to the living room. On the way, he passes by his wife preparing the ingredients for dinner. He smiles and kisses her cheek before heading to his destination. He spots Casey on the floor with his building blocks and Spencer still on Eames’s lap. Coulson sits obediently beside Casey.

“You’re still here,” Arthur deadpans.

“Your wife said I can stay as long as I want. And I’ll be staying until dessert. Or at least until this little princess’s bedtime.”

“Tuck! Tuck!” Spencer claps.

“Tuck me in, too, Uncle Eames!” Casey joins.

Eames grins. “Of course, of course. I will gladly tuck you two in. Perhaps you’d even want a story of one of my adventures?”

Casey nods enthusiastically. “Yes! I love your stories, Uncle Eames!”

“Love Unca Ease!” Spencer squeals.

“Aww,” Eames tickles her stomach, “Uncle Eames loves you, too, princess.”

Arthur smiles at the scene. As much as he despises Eames—okay, he really doesn’t, at all, he loves the man as much as he loves his brother, Edward Brandon—he loves that Eames loves Casey and Spencer enough for them to be his own children. He hears Casey play with his toys and he’s a little jealous of the attention that Eames is getting from Spencer. “Casey,” he calls.

Casey looks up and grins. Arthur has his legs open and arms outstretched. The little boy walks to his father and Arthur carries him to his lap. He stretches towards the dog who was sitting beside him. “Come, Coulson,” he says.

Coulson wags his tail and trots over them. Casey pats his head and then turns to his father. “Daddy, I think Coulson is lonely.”

“He can’t be lonely, he has you.” Arthur smiles, already knowing where the conversation is heading.

“I think he needs a friend.” Casey smiles.

Arthur shrugs. “He has a brother and a sister.”

“Daddy, you’re being silly!” Casey giggles. “I think we should get another dog.”

“Another dog?” Arthur feigns surprise. “Now where did you get that idea?”

Casey shrugs exaggeratedly. “Can we, Daddy?

Arthur smiles. "Your mother and I would have to talk about it first, okay?” Although he’s very sure of what the answer will be. “But we may not get one exactly like Coulson, he’s one of a kind!” Coulson wags his tail and sniffs Arthur’s knee. “Yes you are, Coulson,” he murmurs, fondly remembering the time he first entered his and Ariadne’s lives.

“That’s okay,” Casey nods, “I just think he needs a friend.”

Arthur kisses his temple. “We’ll see, big guy. We’ll see.”

After dinner and dessert, the family, plus Eames, is sitting around the living room watching an old, classical film that stars Audrey Hepburn. While the adults are engrossed in the film, Casey and Spencer play with the dog on the floor.

“It su—it’s sad that she’s only known for her acting skills and beauty,” Ariadne sighs, “she’s an amazing person. So much more than what people say about her.”

“Well, that’s Hollywood,” Eames says with a shrug. “And as an actor I can definitely say that some people are only judged by our faces. Some people, as beautiful or as handsome as they are, cannot act to save their lives! And yet, people still praise them. It’s more of a popularity contest. While some people, more average looking ones, who can act wonderfully, cannot shine due to being overshadowed.”

“It’s hard to tell who you are in that argument,” Arthur sneers.

“Oh, darling, you wound me so deeply. I’m neither and you know that.”

Ariadne giggles softly before placing her head on Arthur’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go to bed early? Like, right after this movie ends.”

“If that’s your way of shooing me out, love, it’s not working,” Eames says with a wicked grin.

Arthur groans. “You’re not planning on spending the night, are you?”

“Well, now that you’ve revealed to me your master plan, someone’s got to keep the children together, right?”

Ariadne smiles. “Well, someone’s got to wash and tuck the children to sleep.”

Arthur shifts. “Really?” But the grin on his face cannot be stopped.

Eames laughs, causing the children to look at him with smiles on their faces. “What’s so funny, Uncle Eames?”

“Oh, just a grown-up joke, Little Man. We’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Okay,” Casey nods. Casey’s memory is better than most, he’d remember this moment, and Eames knows it. “Are you tired, Spencer?”

Arthur and Ariadne smiles and squeeze in together. But just as they’re getting cozy, Spencer appears, waddling with a grin that showed off her few baby teeth. “Daddy!” Arthur smiles brightly and doesn’t think twice about carrying her and putting her in between him and Ariadne. “Mommy!” she squeals.

Ariadne plays with her daughter’s hair before kissing the top of her head. “Not tired yet, sweetie?”

“Na!” She grins. “Pay!”

“It’s almost your bedtime, you can’t play anymore. Once this movie’s done, Uncle Eames will be washing you and Casey and then tuck you to sleep.”

“No sip!” she protests.

“Yes sleep,” Arthur tells her. “If you sleep earlier, there’s more time for you to play tomorrow.”

Spencer pouts. “Unca Ease towo?”

“If you wake up early enough then I might still be here,” Eames tells her. The tone that Eames used makes Spencer squeal in delight. “Sleep?”

“Sip!”

Arthur peaks over to see Casey resting his head on Coulson’s curled body. “How are you doing, big guy?”

“Coulson’s tired and I’m tired.”

“I suppose that means you had a great day today?” Ariadne asks.

Casey looks at them. “I did! What about you, Spencer?” His little sister raises her arms and squeals. “I think she also had a great day,” he replies, making the three adults laugh.

Later that night, with Spencer and Casey soundly asleep in their respective rooms, Eames in the guest bedroom, and Coulson back in his doghouse, Arthur and Ariadne lay quietly on their bed. Ariadne’s resting her head on Arthur’s chest while he has his arms wrapped around her.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be jealous of a little boy, Arthur,” Ariadne says.

He chuckles. “I know.”

“And you shouldn’t be jealous of Eames, either.”

He sighs. “Eames is a challenge. He’s amazing with everyone, it’s hard not to like him.”

Ariadne smiles. No matter how many times Arthur has admitted to caring about Eames, she still catches herself thinking about the two being best friends. “You’re not just Spencer’s father, but her dad. Eames is…well, he’s Eames. We already knew that our children would love him.”

“Eames is a great dad without having to be a father.”

“He’s scared. Valeria told him about the pregnancy scare, he was so relieved. She was hurt but she understood. He isn’t ready yet. Maybe he loves the two because he also wants to start a family, he’s just not sure how.”

Arthur sighs and holds her tighter. “He’s weird.”

Ariadne laughs and snuggles closer. That’s when they hear a bark and a scream. Arthur quickly puts on a pair of boxer shorts and Ariadne scrambles to find her robe. The Point Man is out their room quicker than the Architect.

“Coulson!?”

Ariadne gently pushes Arthur to the side to see what’s happening. Coulson is running around with Casey right beside him. Eames is at the end of the hall with Spencer on his shoulders.

“Eames!”

The fun stops and they turn around to look at Arthur. “Darling, you’re in front of minors. And they’re your children.”

“My children shouldn’t be out here in the first place.”

“Casey couldn’t sleep. He knocked on my door about an hour or two after I tucked him into bed. He said he wanted to be in one of my adventures. We couldn’t have fun without Spencer and Coulson. So,” he shrugs. “Oh, love, you look…hm, I can’t really say it in front of the children.” Eames winks.

Ariadne wraps the robe she’s wearing tighter around her and hides behind Arthur, a faint blush appearing in her cheeks. “It’s way past the kids’ bedtime.”

“Pay!” Spencer squeals, clapping her hands.

“No, no,” Ariadne shakes her head, stepping away from Arthur and moving towards Eames, “Spencer, it’s time to sleep.”

“No sip!” Spencer argues, but her arms are outstretched. “Mommy pay!”

“It’s late now, honey,” Ariadne tells her. Eames brings the little girl down from his shoulders and gives her to Ariadne. “You have to go to sleep.” With Spencer at her hip, she looks over at Arthur who’s trying to get Casey to bed. “Arthur, I can take care of the kids and you’re in charge of Coulson and Eames.”

Arthur groans. Coulson stops wagging his tail and sits. “Oh, no, not you, Coulson.” Eames laughs out loud. “Eames, you’re banned from this house at night.”

“Stop being jealous of me, darling,” Eames teases.

tagging: @angel-cap

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Petrichor

Nadia’s entry for my 2019 Year of Smut! I’ve never posted girl on girl smut before, so this was its own special branch of adventure. While I was looking for references I discovered an entire subculture of RPF and smutty fics about Judi Dench. Each to their own but I was not expecting it.

The Arcana | Nadia x Apprentice | Explicit

~~~~

The rain was getting heavier.

MC frowned through the carriage window, wishing she had taken more time to study weather magic. At the very least she and Nadia would have been able to take a walk and catch their breath without dirtying their clothes.

They had been invited to dinner at the home of one of Nadia’s favourite councillors; a man who left the court in favour of spending his twilight years travelling the globe. He had recently returned to Vesuvia to stock up on supplies for the next leg of his trip, yet was only too happy to reshuffle his itinerary for a chance to invite the Count and Countess to dinner at his official residence. He was somewhat behind on current events, having missed the plague that once ravaged the city, as well as Lucio’s unfortunate demise. Nadia drafted multiple replies and updates, but decided in the end that it would be easier to explain everything in person, which she would likely end up doing anyway.

MC had been morbidly curious about Councillor Markus’ reaction to each new development, though none nearly as much as Nadia arriving without Lucio. The reaction had mostly been the same-MC getting worked up over potential outcomes, only to arrive to sighs of relief and warm embraces. Even so, MC was still incredibly nervous about stepping out as Nadia’s lover and Markus’ estate was as good a situation to set off her nerves as any other.

“I wouldn’t want it to be awkward,” she had said, even as she dressed for the evening. “Markus has never met me...I’m sure he’d rather…”

Nadia would hear none of it, though, laughing off the very idea that anyone in Vesuvia would feel even the slightest joy at seeing Lucio alive, let alone still ruling over the land.

“He’s going to love you,” she said on more than one occasion. “Though not as much as I do, dear, remember that.”

MC had been nervous all evening, watching the storm clouds from her bedroom window and listening to the pitter patter when rain eventually began to fall. Until then it had been a humid summer and ordinarily MC might have been relieved at the prospect of cooling off in the rain, but not when it involved being dressed in an outfit more expensive than a year’s worth of the magic shop’s profits.

She had conjured a barrier as they made their way from the palace door to their carriage for the evening, which protected their heads and shoulders, though the same could not be said for the winding streets and roads from the palace. The rain fell with such force that it bounced off the cobblestones and they made it only so far as the outskirts of the city before the wheels of their carriage were caught in the mud.

The driver tried and failed to free them, ultimately opening up the carriage door with rain dripping from the tip of his nose to the ends of his hair and down onto his coat.

“I’m sorry, Countess,” he said, “but there’s no forcing it. I’ll need to ride back into the city for help...but I won’t leave you here…not in this weather.”

Nadia would not hear of it, however.

“I assure you, we’re more than capable of taking care of ourselves. If we wait for the rain to stop, we’ll be here all night.”

And so it was that the pair of them had spent the past few hours trapped inside of the abandoned carriage, waiting for help to arrive.

MC wondered how much time had actually passed. It felt as if they had been sitting there for days, and there was only so much time one could sit in a confined space without succumbing to some sort of cabin fever.

The longer she stayed there, the more aware she became of Nadia’s perfume, of the bath salts she had almost certainly bathed in before getting dressed; each and every ornament carefully positioned in her hair.

Nadia never looked bad, not by any stretch of the imagination, but tonight she looked incredible. She had on a gown of periwinkle blue, paired up with a silver sash and diamond brooch. MC had been dressed to match, of course-a dress of ghostly silver with blue embellishments. Nadia liked it best when they matched, taking the time to pick out the best colour schemes and fabrics. MC still wasn’t used to luxury, but it gave her butterflies.

“Are you alright, dear?” Nadia asked, reaching out to link her fingers with MC’s. “You’ve been rather quiet.”

“I’m alright,” said MC, “it just seems a shame to get all dressed up for Councillor Markus and then not get to see him.”

“He’ll get over it,” said Nadia, reaching up to loop MC’s hair around . “He devoted an entire wing of his mansion to weathervanes and astronomy equipment several years ago, so doubtless he’d find it fascinating.”

“If he knew it was going to rain, why did he invite us?”

“Ah, perhaps he extended the invitation only as a formality and knew all along.”

MC giggled at that, unsure of exactly how serious she was.

“Perhaps we should surprise him,” she said. “Take a route through the forest all of the way to his front door.”

“Bold move,” said Nadia. “He’ll never see it coming.”

“Just like the rain!”

They burst into laughter, the rainfall momentarily forgotten.

“Really though, I could never ruin this dress. I think it’s worth more than the magic shop.”

“Well now we seem to be at an impasse. You’re a vision in silks...but I’ll admit I have no objections to seeing you without them.”

“Aren't you used to seeing me without them by now?”

Nadia placed a hand over her heart with an expression of mock offense.

“MC, how could you accuse me of such a thing! Every time you get dressed my heart breaks a little.”

“Oh, well we can’t have that,” said MC, taking a moment to peer out of the window before lowering the velvet drapes.

Nadia watched with a wry smile as MC lifted her skirts, loosening the fastenings and pulling the dress over her head.

“Come here,” she said, motioning for MC to come closer and repositioning herself to ease her up onto her lap.

She ran her fingers through MC’s hair as she delivered the first kiss; slipping them into her underwear as she crushed her lips against hers for the second. MC gasped into the kiss, knees shaking as Nadia rubbed her fingertips across her clit.

“Here?” MC whispered. “Right now?”

This was hardly the most ambitious place they had chosen for a tryst. Once, after dismissing her guards, Nadia had gotten down onto her knees while MC sat on her throne, worshipped in more ways than one.

It was the first time they had ever done so in the carriage, though, with a higher than usual chance of getting caught. The driver might come back at any time, his footsteps drowned out by the downpour. Just the thought of it sent shivers down her spine and she gasped at Nadia’s wordless answer, which was to slide a finger into her.

Nadia pushed her down onto the other seat, back flat against the cushions, leaving her to watch as she set aside her own dress. MC watched, entranced at the way her fingers worked the fabric, revealing the soft, unblemished skin beneath. MC knew she was staring but she couldn’t stop herself. She could think of nothing but Nadia, watching with bated breath as she knelt down on the seat next to her, lifting one of her legs and wrapping it around her waist with a knowing smile.

MC let out the breath she had been holding when their hot folds touched, clits touching only gently, though sending shudders of pleasure through her spine.

“Oh g-” She started, only to lose her train of thought as Nadia shifted her hips and increased the friction.

The rain was loud, so loud, though not as loud as MC’s moans as Nadia leaned forward and ground her hips harder, their breasts touching and hands interlocked.

“That’s a good girl,” whispered Nadia, both of their bodies so warm that MC forgot they were naked. She could feel Nadia’s heat, could feel her wetness every time she moved her body. She gripped hold of Nadia’s waist, groaning in relief as she picked up her pace and ground her clit against hers with far more urgency than before. The friction was good-almost too good.

Nadia lifted MC’s leg over one shoulder with a murmur of something unintelligible through the fog of lust. From tone at least she assumed it was praise.

Their sexes touched and MC lost all train of thought, reaching up to hold onto Nadia’s breast and wishing that the resulting moan from her lover was more tangible, so that she might capture it and listen whenever she wished. There was something incredibly satisfying about it when it crossed her ears, from knowing she had had some small part in it to experiencing a side of the Countess that no one else had ever seen.

Nadia rocked her hips harder and faster, gasping when MC met her halfway. The surprise lasted only an instant, quickly replaced by a look of pure mischief.

“Why MC,” she said, “I had no idea you had that in you.”

“Then you haven’t been paying attention.”

Nadia cocked her head to the side, taking in MC’s nakedness and bold expression.

“Perhaps you’re right,” she said. “How terrible of me.”

“I think you’d better make it up to me,” said MC, hoping she sounded as confident as she felt.

Nadia laughed and ran a hand over her leg, rings shimmering when they caught the light. She let go, MC watching in anticipation as Nadia untangled their bodies and spread both of her legs, sinking down onto all fours to give her pussy one almost torturously slow lick.

MC squeezed her eyes shut, Nadia kissing her sex as deeply as she kissed her lips. She opened her eyes only briefly, taking in the sight of Nadia’s dark hair across her body. She came quickly, tangling her fingers in Nadia’s hair and grinding against her lips-nothing mattering in that moment outside of the rush of pleasure running through her.

~~~

“Do you think they’ve forgotten us?”

MC stared at the ceiling of the carriage, legs tangled with Nadia’s. The rain continued to drum against the roof, with no sign of easing any time soon.

“It certainly seems that way,” sighed Nadia. “I have to admit I was half expecting them to show up the moment we took our clothes off.”

MC blushed, grateful that she had not been the only one to consider such things.

“Perhaps the fates weren’t paying attention,” she said. “Night like this, I imagine they’re busy drenching people who deserve it.”

Nadia laughed at the thought, so softly that MC would not have known were it not for the feeling of her breath against her skin.

“In that case,” she said, climbing back up onto all fours and crawling up the seat to plant a kiss on her lips, “it was a lucky escape. We absolutely should not tempt them any more than we already have.”

“We wouldn’t want to get caught, now,” said MC, even as she stroked a hand down Nadia’s back.

“Of course not. That would be terrible.”

“Awful.”

MC giggled, though it was quickly silenced by Nadia’s lips on hers.

Perhaps they would be there all night after all.

[ohtheseboysilove]

The sunflower always finds its sunlight II [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 5, 500 K +

Warnings : language, sad shit, angst

Summary :  Roger likes Reader since forever but the timing seems to just never be right for them. Reader is still haunted by her past relationship and kept rejecting Roger who know nothing about the abuses she had been victim of. After being rejected for the sixth time,  Roger thinks it’s time for him to move on…

Note : Bruuuh it’s the last "flash back" chapter, after that it’s going to be about the prensent and be ready for the angst and bad timing👀 let’s the slow burn begins ✨ 

Also very important : This story is going to talk about very sensitive topics likeeating disorders, physical, sexual and emotional abuses so if you don’t feel comfortable about any of them, please don’t read my story. I will put it in the Warnings section when the chapters will abord theses topics.

☀ Masterlist ☀

As soon as he entered his flat, Roger grabbed one of the alcohol bottle from his kitchen and went back at drinking his feelings away. He didn’t know any other way to deal with his broken heart at this moment.

After you rejected him for the third time, you and Roger remained close, nothing really changed excepted that now you were noticing how his eyes lingering on you, a little bit longer than a friend was supposed to. Some small details like how his hand naturally found the end of your back and how right it felt ; Or how easily you both cuddle at the first occasion ; Also the beautiful and certainly expensive but very pretty necklace he bought you for Christmas. It was a little sunflower hanging on golden chain and you immediately loved it. You were slowly falling for Roger and it was scaring the hell out of you. So you did something very stupid to stop these feelings to bubble.

“(Y/N) is what ?” The drummer asked incredulously at Brian, not believing what he just heard.

“She’s dating a guy from her work, that a great news, she’s finally moving on. You should be happy” The guitarist gave him a weird look at his upset face. “It’s really new but she sounded rather happy about it when I spoke to her”

The drummer clenched his fists angrily, he felt betrayed. You didn’t own him anything but he really thought you would talk to him when you would feel ready about dating again. But apparently he was totally wrong. He noticed you were a little bit distant these last few weeks but he didn’t think too much about it, maybe you were trying to figure your feelings about a possible us, how wrong he had been.

“Roger couldn’t be happy about it, he’s in love with (Y/N)” Deaky commented as he lazily ran his fingers on his bass. The band was in the studio today when Brian broke the news about (Y/N)’s new boyfriend.

“What ? I’m not !” The drummer grunted as he crossed his arms, throwing his drumsticks somewhere near his drum kit. “She’s my friend !”

“Oh my god...he’s totally are !” Freddie stood up, ignoring Roger’s whining and walked to the bassist, his eyes wide-opened. “How I never saw that ? He is completely smitten ! Deaky, when did you notice ?”

“Hum, I thought everyone know. I mean it was pretty obvious for me since my first day with you guys” The young man shrugged his shoulders, realising he maybe talked a bit too much.

“The first day...but it was like three years ago ! She was still with Donovan” Brian said with a surprise voice, all the gazes on the blond.

“I was not in love with her when she was with Donovan !” Roger yelled to defend himself, he didn’t like where the conversation was leading.

“You were not but now you totally are...” Freddie finished for him, a gentle smile on his face. “Oh Roger...”

“I don’t know okay ? Maybe I am...I never had been in love, how could I know if I love (Y/N) ?” The blond lowered his gaze to the ground, finding his pink sparkly converse extremely interesting.

“You just know, Roger. No need to overthinking it, it’s the most natural feeling” John answered with a sweet smile, putting a hand on his shoulder’s friend.

So the next time Roger saw you, a month later – he maybe avoiding you a bit – he had his answer. He was certainly in love with you, sweating hands and heart beating way too fast, he was totally fucked up. It was for one of Freddie’s party and god, you were breathtaking in your little summer dress. The cloth was rather simple but on you, it looked beautiful, Roger cursed when he saw your new boyfriend, a tall brunette with a protective arm around your waist. He looked dumb and it wasn’t jealousy which was talking – spoiler alert, it totally was – it just the vibe he get from the guy.

“Roger, do you want to go upstairs ?” The girl he was flirting with all evening as he was impatiently waiting for you, was tugging seductively on his shirt, lips finding his neck.

“Hum, yes. Gimme a minute” He left the girl alone and walked to you, he couldn’t wait any more longer. “(Y/n), can I talk to you in private please ?” You glanced surprisingly at him and didn’t comment how he ignored your boyfriend literally next to you.

“Hum sure. Neil, I will be back quickly okay ?” The brunette nodded and pressed a kiss on your forehead before leaving, giving a last glance at the blond. “What’s going on Roger ? I didn’t see you for weeks” You were nervous, he was probably mad at you because you had been distancing yourself from him, it was a stupid reaction but you didn’t wanted to be hurt again.

“I just...I really thought we had something you and me. I stupidly thought you were into me as much as I was into you but I was fucking wrong, once again” He shook his head as he let out a bitter laugh. “When you said you weren’t ready for a relationship, you were just talking about one with me right ? Because for this Neil from work, who we never heard of by the way, suddenly you are ready ? I was a little bit surprise when I found out, I have to admit”

“Roger...I’m sorry okay ? I...really like him, he is a nice guy and everything is so easy with him” You lied and bit your lips nervously, you didn’t care about Neil but was easier this way and the last thing you wanted was to hurt Roger. “I mean, you and me...it wouldn’t work, you know that”

“How could I know ? We never tried ! You didn’t give me a chance, already deciding that you and me wasn’t a good idea, well I think we should give it a try” You gulped anxiously as he grabbed your hand, bringing you in an empty hallway of the big house. “I’m serious (Y/N), I l...like you a lot and I know you like me too, I just don’t get why you don’t want us to try” His fingers gently cupped your face, stroking on your pink cheeks as you felt his warm breath caressing your skin.

Because my last boyfriend treated me like shit and I lost every single drop of confidence in myself after that. Because he broke me so badly that the only thought of being intimate with someone make my head spin. Because dating boring Neil is way easier to be sure to not catch feelings rather than dating you. Because I’m fucking terrified to get romantically involved with someone like you, someone who fucked around every girls he see.

That was you wanted to say but instead you murmured :

“Roger...let’s be honest okay ? You’re a twenty-five years old handsome man and a freaking rock-star, with girls who throw themselves at you all the time. You really think you are ready to commit yourself to one girl ? Because I don’t think you are”

The blond swallowed roughly at your words, his heart aching in his chest.

“You can’t talk for me (Y/N)” He shook his head with disappointment. “I know I can commit myself to you, I’m bloody in love with you !” You eyes were wide as dinner plates after the revelation. The drummer pinched his lips and sighed deeply, he hadn’t plan to throw his feelings in your face like that. ”It the truth okay ? I am in love with you for a long time now but I just recently accepted it because it’s new for me. I don’t know how to deal with all these feelings inside me and it’s eating me alive” He confessed as he panted heavily, his fingers weren’t on your face anymore but rather in his own hairs, tugging nervously on them.

You found yourself dumbfounded. He couldn’t have feelings for you, it wasn’t real. He was Roger Taylor, he deserved better than you, the poor girl with emotional baggages heavier than herself.  

“I don’t think you’re in love with me Roger, maybe you love me but being in love…it’s something else” You replied as your heart taped loudly against your rib cage. If only you weren’t so traumatised by your last relationship maybe you would have reacted differently but right now you couldn’t believe his feelings. “You cheated on every single girlfriend you had, I can’t take that risk, I don’t want to be heart broken again, I’m still suffering from the last one” You sniffled quietly, emotions overwhelming you as you were unconsciously breaking Roger’s heart.

“I’m begging you to give me a chance, to give us a chance (Y/N). I can change for you !” He cupped your wet cheeks, his own eyes tearing as you were escaping from his fingers again. “I love you”

“Don’t say that” You whispered as you slowly pushed his hands away, taking a step back from him and his sad eyes. “I value our friendship too much for taking this risk Roger, I’m sorry”

He didn’t try to stop you when you quickly left, his gaze staring at the white wall, trying to process what just happened. He poured out his love for you and in return, he get his heart broke in tiny pieces, what a great deal.

The drummer clenched his first and grimaced bitterly at the memory, still stinging even after months. He drank a long sip of the strong alcohol, burning his throat but he couldn’t care less, he wanted to forget you. He was almost done drinking away these painful rejections from you.

The fifth time was certainly the most humiliating one as he was fucking hammered this time. In fact, it was only few hours after you left him alone in this hallway, he reacted stupidly but he didn’t what else to do. The girl he had flirted with was long way gone when he finally made his way back to the living-room, heart of the party. His eyes immediately found you, sitting on the sofa with Neil by your side, his arm around your shoulders. He ignored Brian’s calls and went straight to the kitchen, drinking until he couldn’t stand on his legs anymore.

John and Brian tried to make him stopped but he was a stubborn cow, gripping his bottle like a mad man. The more they tried to stop him, the worst he was becoming, almost aggressive.

You were trying to pretend everything was okay after the horrible conversation you had with Roger. Neil’s arm around you felt too warm and too heavy, it didn’t feel natural but you were sure to not deserved better. You were a pure emotional wreck who couldn’t handle dating the infamous Roger Taylor.

“(Y/N) ? Can you come for a second ?” You raised your head toward Brian and excused yourself to Neil for the second time during this evening. “Hum, it’s Roger, he is very drunk and we don’t know what to do with him, can you help ?”

You nodded and followed him, you were one of the rare persons who could reason the drummer when he was pissed drunk so it was nothing new but after what happened earlier, you hoped he was too tired to fight.

“Leave me the fuck alone John !” The voice of Roger echoed in the large kitchen as you passed the door behind Brian, exposing the poorly state of Roger.

“Can you give us a minute guys ?” The two musicians nodded and made their way out, closing the door behind them.

Roger couldn’t remember what you said to him but you made your magic work like you always did when he was slashed. Few minutes later, you opened the door and called back the boys inside.

“Should we taking him upstairs ?” You nodded at Brian’s question and they both helped Roger to walk, practically caring him in the stairs. “Do you need us or…?”

“I got him, don’t worry Bri” You gave him a little smile as they sat the drummer on the bed of one of Freddie’s guest room.

When they left, a death silent felt between the two of you as you kneeled in front of him, taking his shoes off. You slid off his tee-shirt following by his pants, letting him only in his blue boxers, it wasn’t the first time you did that but tonight you could feel his burning gaze on you, following every of your movements.

“Come here Roger” You patted under the cover and sighed with relief when he listened, crawling with difficulties to the head of the bed. “Here, drink that, it’s gonna help you for tomorrow” You put two painkillers in his hand and helped him drank his glasses of water as his hand’s gestures were deeply influenced by the alcohol.

“Stay with me, please” He sounded like an afraid little kid and it broke your heart to see him like that.

“Okay” You replied and lay on the cover next to him as immediately rested his head on your chest, gripping onto you like a clingy koala bear.

Your fingers naturally found his hairs, nails gently grazing his scalp the way you knew he loved. You thought he was asleep but his voice echoed the room right before you were planning to leave.

“I love you” You closes your eyes as the guilt clenched into your chest.

“Roger, you’re piss drunk, go to sleep, please” You replied with a little voice, you felt awful but you couldn’t force yourself to date him, you weren’t ready. You tried to fool yourself with Neil but only few chaste kisses happened and probably nothing more serious would happen. This relation was already a lost cause and you couldn’t do the same with Roger.

"Why don’t you believe me ? I love you, I fucking love you (Y/N) !” You felt the drummer became agitate so you shushed him gently, interlacing your fingers with him to calm him down, putting some light kisses on his fluffy hairs.. He stayed silent for few minutes, his gaze glued on your hands until your skin start becoming wet, Roger’s body shaking under quiet cries. “I really love you, I know you don’t want me but I need you to know how much I love you” He babbled between sobs.

If only he knew of much you wanted him too. But your injuries were still fresh and even two years after the break-up, you were still hurt by what Donovan done to you, he broke you until you were laying on the ground and you had no idea how to stand up again. Roger was an amazing person but you didn’t think he could deal with the mess you were, emotionally and mentally fucked up.

“I know you do Roger” Your thumb gently circled on his warm skin as you felt his frame gently relaxing against you, he was slowly drifting to sleep.

"Give me a chance if you think so” He murmured sleepily, nuzzling his head into your neck, savouring how warm and how deliciously smelled your skin.

He knew he was totally pathetic, you just rejected him again few hours before but he couldn’t resist to just pretend for few minutes that everything was fine before he had to face the reality in the morning.

"You know I can’t Roger” You replied in a murmur, his breathing was becoming steadier and you knew it was only a question of minutes before he felt asleep. “Maybe one day but for now…I’m not worth it”

You smiled affectionately when cute snores filled the room and you were sure he didn’t hear the last sentence you pronounced. But he did and it probably influenced his choices during the following year.

The drummer sighed as he thought about this night, how right falling into sleep next to you was, it had been every time but after what he said to you earlier, he was afraid that it won’t happen again. The sixth and last rejection happened only few hours earlier and almost eight months after Freddie’s party.

None of you ever talked about this night, Roger was too ashamed and you…you didn’t have anything to say about it. You and Neil broke up few weeks later, officially because you were better as co-workers rather than as a couple. But the truth was that you past too heavy to build a healthy relationship with a man, Donovan’ shadow was still floating around you, not leaving you moving on. Neil tried to help you but he didn’t know you well, it was too much to handle for a brand new romance, the fact that you didn’t let him touch you was probably also what made him left, understanding how broken you were. You weren’t angry at him, it was too much for a barely three-months relationship, he saw you too many time crying in the middle of the night, refusing to explain to him what was going on.

You couldn’t talk to him, you didn’t want to, in fact you didn’t want to talk about what happened with Donovan, you stayed silent since the abuses started and you planned to continue. No Freddie, no John, no Veronica, no Mary and even no Roger, you wanted to fix your problems by yourself and for that you needed some time al by yourself.

You were seeing less the boys as you wanted to focus on your own mental health and with Roger around, messing your emotions, it was more difficult so you distanced yourself, coming less often to the rehearsals, dinners or parties. You kept calling Freddie a lot, to be sure all the boys knew you weren’t mad at them or whatever. He also told you that Roger get himself a steady girlfriend, you were rather surprised but happy for him, you weren’t emotionally available so it was good if he wasn’t focusing on you.

Roger wasn’t really proud of himself but after your words, he were certain the best to persuade you that he was boyfriend material was to find himself a girlfriend and stayed faithful to her. He could do it. This wasn’t really fair for Giulia, she was a sweet and nice girl who didn’t deserve to be use as a rebound but when when it was about you, the drummer could be very selfish. Surprisingly it was going pretty good between him and the blonde girl, he found himself liking the couple life : having someone who spend the entire night with him ; Someone to call when he got a good new about the band ; The nice walk around the Thames when it’s sunny outside ; the steadiness was looking good on Roger Taylor, surprising him and all his friends. There were dating for practically four months and he was happy.

But he wasn’t stupid, the relationship wasn’t totally healthy on his side as he couldn’t stop himself to compare Giulia to you, how cuter was your laugh, how softer and smaller were your hands in his, the smell of your skin was undeniably his favourite scent. You weren’t a lot around so it helped him pretended everything was great but every time he saw you he wanted nothing more to hold you close against him and never let you go.

Exactly like tonight. Brian and his fiancée Chrissie were hosting a dinner at their place tonight and he knew you were coming, butterflies going crazy in his stomach. It felt like he didn’t see you in forever. You were as beautiful as he remembered and he was forcing himself to not stare at you all dinner, for you own comfort and also for Giulia’s respect. He had greet you rather simply and introducing you to his girlfriend nervously but thankfully it went fine.

“Hi” You smiled as Roger appeared next you, Giulia was out for a smoke with Freddie.

"Hey Roger” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and cleared you throat nervously. “How are you ? You look…happier"

“I’m great, Giulia make me happy” He replied with, he hoped, a confidence voice. "She is an amazing girl” But she wasn’t you, he wanted to add but he kept his mouth closed.

“She seems sweet” You smiled and even if you felt a bit strange to not be Roger’s girl anymore, you had this role for years as his best friend and only steady girl in his life, his happiness was the most important thing to you. “For how long have you been together ?”

"Four months” He replied proudly and you nodded simply, giving a small smile. “I didn’t cheat on her, just for you to know” He added and immediately regretted it, he sounded pathetic like if he wanted absolutely to show you how a good boyfriend he was. But trying to impress another girl than his girlfriend wasn’t really a good thing to do for that.

“I never thought you did Roger” You replied with big surprised eyes. “You seemed pretty into this girl, I’m glad you find someone who give you happiness. You deserved it Roger” Your lips curled into a loving grin and after that you left him to go help Chrissie with the cleaning.

Two months later, the exact night of Roger and Giulia six months anniversary together, he completely freaked out. Maybe you really thought he didn’t want you anymore, twenty-four weeks was rather a long time to prove his point, right ? Also Giulia just told him she was in love with him and he felt absolutely horrible because he couldn’t say it back, not to her. She said it was okay, they had time but the blond knew their couple had an expiration date, he was being a selfish prick. That was the reason he found himself at four in the afternoon in front of your flat, knocking ferociously on the door.

“Hi Rog, you’re okay ?” You frowned at his dishevelled state, messy hairs — well, more messier than usually — wide eyes and bitten nails.

"I…I don’t know, hum, it’s our six months anniversary with Giulia tonight and —”

“Oh. You’re nervous” He didn’t expect the fond smile painting on your features, it stopped him from continuing his sentence. “I’m sure it’s going to be great Roger, you have no reason to panic"

You gently rubbed his shoulder and the blond started thinking he already ruined everything with you.

“I’m not sure if I’m good enough for her…I— it’s new for me and…I don’t know” He babbled nervously, not knowing what to say anymore.

“Roger, you’re more than good enough, I saw you two together, you’re a great couple okay ? She’s lucky to have you” You have a reassuring smile and the drummer wanted nothing more than crashed his lips against yours but before he would have yelled : why am I not enough for you ? But before he could confess that his feelings were still here, you said something that made him change his mind. “I’m so proud of you Roger. I really am, seeing so joyfull and treating a girl right, it really make me proud of you. It’s fantastic for you”

He simply smiled and swallowed back his words, forcing himself to keep his mouth shut. He didn’t want to disappoint you by saying all of this was just a way to prove you how great he was, you would be ashamed to hear that. He gave you a hug and went back to Giulia, celebrating the six-months together.

Three more months went by and Roger and Giulia were still together, more happy than ever. The drummer was slowly finding himself more and more interested into his girlfriend, she was an awesome girl and maybe she wasn’t you but she probably the best girl he could have compared to you. So he stopped pretending and started enjoying for real her company. You were happier too, Donovan’s scars were still here but you were doing better everyday, finding your old self back in track, it was so pleasant. After Neil you couldn’t find someone else, you were to sensitive yet and letting annoying coming emotionally too close to you wasn’t in your plan for now.

Everything was going fine for the both of you until one day at the recording studio. Giulia and Roger were sweetly kissing each other, fooling around on the sofa before Roger’s drum part.

“(Y/N) darling ! What a delicious surprise, you look absolutely divine ! I wonder who was the wise man to tell you to cut your hairs this way” Freddie shouted as you pushed the door of the studio open.

“Thanks again Fred, you were right, I really love it” You rolled your eyes and gave him a hug. He was the one to push you to go to the hairdresser and you were glad you listened to him. “Hey guys, hey Giulia, how the album is going ?” You put on the table a trail of everyone favourite coffee and earned a kiss on the cheek from John, more than relieved to have some caffeine.

Everyone went pick up their drinks except Roger, he was just frozen. He always thought you were the most beautiful girl he ever saw but right you were even more breathtaking. This new haircut was advantaging your face in the most perfect way, softening your features and honestly he didn’t know you could be prettier that you were already. But it was so wrong.

"Coffee Rog ?” You asked as you saw he was still seated, Giulia pretending to listen Brian talking about one of his guitar solo but the corner of her eyes were on his boyfriend, who was completely smitten by you. It hurt her but she couldn’t say she didn’t see it coming. But she had the confirmation she needed.

“Yes. Thank you” Roger found himself incredibly nervous to make eye contact with you, you were a literal goddess for him right now and he way too affected by it, making him a flustered mess. "I— hum, your hairs…it’s— it’s lovely” He managed to chock out, trying to suppress a shiver when your hands touches as you passed him his drink.

“Thanks Rog” You smiled happily and went to sit next to Freddie, looking over his shoulder to read about the latest song.

The drummer followed every of your movements before his eyes crossed path with Giulia, who looked sad. She grabbed her bag and announced that she needed to go to work, Roger knew it was a lie and followed her.

“Where are you going Giulia ?“ She turned around and smiled with disappointment.

"I saw how you look at her Roger, I know you like me but you’re definitively in love with (Y/N)”

“No, I’m not, she’s just a friend” He replied weakly, it was useless to try to defend himself, the girl wasn’t blind.

“I noticed it since the first day I met her, the way your eyes literally drink her, like she was the only person in the room but I ignored it because you were giving me attention and I thought I would be enough to make you forget about her…but I’m not” She shrugged and sighed deeply. "You should tell her how you feel Rog” The drummer looked at his feet, feeling horrible guilty but the blonde didn’t know that he already confessed his feelings, more than once and it had been a wrong idea every time. "She likes you too Roger, it’s easy to see it” She added when he didn’t answer. He immediately raised his head at her words, eyes opened wider than usual at her words. "Goodbye Roger”

“I’m sorry Giulia”

“Don’t be, you can’t control your feelings”

He spent the rest of the day literally glued to you, like old time when you were the best partners in crime. Roger felt like this time, it would be the good one, you would say yes, you had to. So when everyone left the studio, he took a deep breath and told you what happened earlier with Giulia.

“She knew my feelings weren’t as strong as they are for you (Y/N), I’m still madly in with you. I tried okay ? I tried to find someone else but you’re the one I want” He almost lost himself in your deep beautiful does-eyes before remembering he had something to finish. “Listen I know these almost three past years since your break-up with Donovan were hard for you but I think, no, I know I can make you happy if you let me. Please, love, let me take you out for dinner or anything...and if you say no…I won’t ask again, I will stop trying something with you, I swear, I will leave you alone if it what you want”

His beautiful baby blue eyes were staring into yours with a such deep passion and hope, it was almost scary. In fact, it wasn’t almost scary, it was totally terrifying. He had too much expectation for the both of you but god, he didn’t know it wasn’t that easy for you, it was impossible for you to give Roger what he wanted right now. You wished you could but it was too much, you felt overwhelmed and took a step back.

 “I can’t Roger, I’m sorry I can’t !” You shook furiously your head, tears rolling freely on your cheeks as his face fell at your words. “You don’t understand, I’m not ready, I’m completely fuck up, I can’t get involved with you. I would just ruin our friendship...” You pushed away his hands when he tried to grab your shaky hands. “I– I have nothing to offer you Roger, stop wasting your time with me” You hid your face in your hands, hopelessness about the whole situation.

You wanted so badly to give a chance to you and Roger but you were still incapable to do that.

“I want to waste my time with you ! I bloody love you ! I can wait whatever time you need me too” He was saying all of this with a pleading tone, making you shake harder. He was too close to you, suffocating you with his frame towering over yours, he couldn’t understand what you were going through. But he couldn’t know as you never told him but right now, you just needed to focus on your breathing.

“Roger, you don’t understand...” You cried as he sighed angrily, he was vexed and hurt and mostly clueless.

“Then fucking talk to me (Y/N) ! You don’t tell me anything ! What I don’t understand hum ?” You shook your head, feeling as you were drowning in your own tears. The blond clenched roughly his jaw as you stayed silent. He felt so bloody frustrated, he knew you liked him but for some obscure reason you didn’t want to give him a chance. “Shit (Y/N) ! Is this about Donovan ? You can’t be still on this guys, not after three years, this is ridiculous !” He shouted angrily and he started pacing up and down to not explode right now.

But his words made you upset. How could he talk about your past relation ?

“This isn’t your bloody business Taylor. What do you know about relationship anyway ? You dated this girl for what eight months ? Suddenly you’re the specialist of relationship ? You don’t know anything about love” You spatted with rage, both of your faces red and fuming.

“Maybe I’m not the best at relationship but you know what you are ? A fucking heartless bitch ! That what you are !” He yelled so loud that you had to take a step back, veins popping up on his neck. You were afraid of him right now but you were good at hiding it, always been. “You knew I was into your for years and you let me hanging on your hook, giving me fake hopes for, in the end, always break my heart. You know exactly what you’re doing and you didn’t care about hurting me, you just using me as your spare tyre, nothing more...but I’m done with you. I had enough”

You never thought Roger’s could hurt you so much but he just did and now, you wanted to hurt him as much as he just did.

“Fuck you Roger ! You wanted to know why I always saying no to you ? Because you’re a fucking cheater and I could never, ever trust you as a boyfriend ! Who could be so stupid to do that ? We all know you would ending cheating on every girlfriend you will have, you’re a fucking cheater and you will stay one !”

You were panting after your screaming, throat burning as well as your eyes but your heart...shattered into hundred of pieces. You both looked at each other, knowing that this time you went too far, hurting purposely each other. As soon as you words left your mouth you had regret them, it wasn’t even true but it was too late.

“Alright, I think we don’t anything else to say to each other. Goodbye (Y/N)” He slammed violently the door, making you jump at the harsh sound.

And that how Roger ended at the pub then at his place, drinking his sorrows away as his heart stung endlessly in his chest. He shouldn’t have say these horrible words to you, he knew you were sensitive and for god’ sake, you told him you weren’t feeling good about yourself since your break-up and now he insulted you ? He had been so stupid.

Both of you had fucked up royally and this time, none of you knew if you could overcome this storm.

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

Tag list : @amy-brooklyn99 @mercurycrowley @vanitysfairr @loveandbeloved29 @luvborhap @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @geek-and-proud @fearless2tobeme @chlobo6

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

it comes and goes in waves (and carries us away) –– #2 Daughters

Hey, it’s me again. 

This time with a little random family fic, it's just domestic nothingness, an evening with Harvey and his twin girls inspired by THIS image I posted on Tumblr. The gif got a lot of attention and it killed me, so I thought why not?! I'm still trying to learn these characters in preparation for a multi-chapter I have promised a few people.

Thank you so much to everyone who read my first little drabble and enjoyed it, I was really happy to read that. This one is in no way connected to the last.

Enjoy!

AO3 - FF.Net

DAUGHTERS

There was something about the city during Fall. Summer was still clinging to the air, warm and comfortable as the temperature slowly began to drop. He spent more time outside during those tentative few weeks where the air was sweet with pumpkin spice and crackling foliage. It felt easier then, to stroll the streets, soaking in the change of the seasons before the weather made walks like this impossible.

The lights on the street were just turning on, a chill settling in the air as commuters with a similar mind meandered up and down the street. Halloween decorations had begun to creep across storefronts advertising seasonal products that in a few weeks, would disappear until next year.

'Daddy, I want to be a purple princess and a witch.' A little voice piped up beside him enthusiastically, her small fingers gripped his right hand tightly as she skipped in step beside him. Harper with her straight strawberry blonde hair had a habit of clinging to him as if she loosened her grip for a second, he would disappear.

Harvey only chuckled, squeezing his daughter's hand in return as he tried to picture the vision, she had for her first proper Halloween. His job was to make her happy and whatever Harper asked for, Harvey was happy to oblige.

'Daddy?' Whiplash yanked at him like it did in that funny little way, the voice standing to his left tearing his attention away from the one on his right. He forgot sometimes, for a split second, that there was two of them. Harper on his left, Grace on his right, mirrors of each other brought into this world to gleefully mess with him. 'I want to be a ballerina, 'cause you can only be one dress-up'. Grace was almost an identical copy of her sister had it not been for the strawberry blonde hair that persisted in keeping tight ringlets around her head. Officially, they were identical but there were so many little things about them that insisted on being different.

'Nah-ah!' Harper retorted in a voice that sounded entirely too much like her mother. 'You can be all the dress-ups.' Harper was the unpredictable one, unexpected Baby B who developed her mother's flair for the dramatic. At four-and-a-half Harper Rose Specter had defined her personality as the rebellious one who hid behind a sweet face but had a love for slowly driving her sister crazy. Where Grace was neat and organised, perfectly dressed and contained, Harper was wild. She wore black and white striped tights instead of the pink stockings the ballet uniform required, her sneakers were bright colours that matched next to nothing in her wardrobe. Expensive clothes were wasted on Harper who always found a muddy puddle even on the driest of days. She was a rebel, a renegade, a girl after his own heart.

It was a miracle they lasted as long as they did in the womb together, evidently, it was the longest stretch of time between Harper and Grace where they weren't fighting. They bickered about toys, attention, who tucked in who first and how they did it and now that their sentences were long and their vocabulary had grown substantially, they argued about the other's logic.

'Daddy, I can be anything, can't I?' Harper tugged on his hand, staring up at him with large hazel eyes that always seemed to pull him in.

He thought they had longer on this, the sibling arguments that made no sense and the headache of it all. He was used to rallying clients, making sense of their quarrels and foraging agreements it wasn't so easy when the case involved his daughters on opposing sides.

'Anything.' He answered, knowing he would willingly give his daughters the world. He squeezed each of their hands. 'If Harper wants to mix her dress-ups, she can.' Grace pouted, the same pout his wife was bound to give him the second she realised Harper wasn't going to play ball on coordinating costumes, not now that he had given her permission.

It was the first year they were going to take the girls trick-or-treating, their first real Halloween where they were out on the street with all the other kids, knocking on doors and receiving sugary treats. Donna had something planned, only the perfect costumes for her girls, but she had not anticipated their spirit to be either own entities.

'My legs are tired.' Grace whined, her hand heavy in his, steps faltering as she complained. Harvey didn't hesitate before he scooped her up, hoisting the girl on his hip before they continued walking down the street.

'That better?' He asked, squeezing Grace's hip beyond the tulle of her tutu. Her head dropped to his shoulder as she gave him a small nod. This was what made it all worth it, the affection his girls managed to show him with cuddles and kisses that never seemed to end. He had been scared when the sonogram showed two babies rather than the expected one. Harvey didn't know what they were going to do or how they would manage two little lives at the one time. He didn't think he could shave that much time off his day, didn't think he could find the time at all. It all melted away the second they were there, two little pink bundles sitting in the crook of each arm. They were going to be fine. He suddenly realised how much he would sacrifice for their love and happiness.

He kissed Grace's cheek and gave her another squeeze. 'Are you going to show me all those dance moves you've been practising?' He jostled Grace, bouncing her on his hip with concern that she might just fall asleep on him. Tired girls lead to cranky girls and the last thing they needed at Thursday night ballet was a tantrum.

Harvey didn't always get to come to ballet, he tried but often cases weren't that simple. Sometimes he got caught in a meeting or had to finish up a deposition. It was rare that he had the opportunity to pick them up and take them to ballet, enough so that Harvey had been looking forward to it all afternoon.

'I can show you!' Harper broke away from his hand to skip a few steps ahead of him. She twirled, arms above her head as her tutu bounced with her movements.

'She's not doing it right.' Grace whispered where only Harvey could here. He chuckled, rolling his eyes at the two of them before his hand reached out for Harper. Harvey looked up as she took his hand again, falling back into step beside him. Standing out the front of his daughter's ballet studio was his wife, radiant as ever, red hair cascading down her shoulders, dress fitting snug against every curve. His heart warmed at the sight of her, almost skipping a beat with an excitement he would never get sick of.

Her eyes met his over the bustle of people on the street, a grin spreading across her cheeks in a way that made Harvey tingle. That smile was all for him.

'Mommy!' Harper pulled away from his hand once again, finally spotting her mother waiting for them. Their feisty daughter had a week spot for her mother, running full pelt towards her, Harper crashed into Donna's legs. Donna crouched to accept her daughter's hug, arms wrapping tight around Harper's before she stood, lifting the little girl to sit precariously on the bump that was subtly announcing the life growing inside of her. Harper giggled as Donna kissed her cheeks, peppering her touch left and right, over the ridge of her daughter's nose and back again before they shared sweet butterfly kisses.

'Hey, trouble!' Donna grinned; the smile uncontained as it burst across her face. It didn't matter how long it had been since she last saw her daughters, she was always excited for their bright smiles and eagerness to see them. 'Were you good for Daddy this afternoon?' She asked, eyes raising to meet Harvey's as he came to stand beside her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek in greeting, his hand warm on the small of her back as she felt her body relax at his touch and presence.

'Always.' Harper and Harvey replied, mirrored father/daughter grins climbing across their cheeks.

'What about you, sulky-face?' Donna reached for Grace's chin, her hand squeezing briefly before they turned to tickles, trying to crack an easy smile. 'Were you good? Did Daddy spoil you?' She knew the answers; Grace was always good, and Harvey would always spoil his daughters regardless of their behaviour.

'We went to Tiffany's!' Grace smiled, cheeks round and happy as she thrust the signature blue bag she had been holding towards her mother's face.

'Oh, my goodness, Tiffany's before ballet, you must have been very good.' She gave her husband a pointed look despite her wide smile.

'Perfect angels,' Harper supplied.

'What she said,' Harvey responded with another peck to his wife's cheek. 'We got you something too.' He knew that would sweeten her irritation if only a little. They were trying to make sure their children weren't spoiled brats, but it hadn't helped when Harvey carved the second their eyes light up with wonder towards anything in their line of vision.

'Oh, well, if you got me something too, I can't complain, can I?' She grinned, Harvey reflecting her smile with adoration in his eyes. He had once been terrible at buying her gifts, anyone for that matter, but in recent years he had gotten better and it warmed her every time. 'Are we ready to dance?' Donna asked, jostling Harper on her hip as she turned a grin towards Grace.

Both girls nodded their approval, excitement building up inside of them. 'Our slippers?' The girls had their leotards and their tutus, but the elusive ballet slippers had been left at home in the bag Harvey forgot to pick up on his way out the door. He thought he had it handled, thought he was being smart in dressing the girls before heading out, but he was unused to the routine and what was required on ballet days. She shoes had been forgotten.

'I've got them.' Donna reassured her daughter, finger pointing to the bag at her feet. Harvey picked it up as he put Grace down on her feet.

'I told you Mom always saves the day.' He ruffled Grace's curls, her hair bouncing around her head as she tried to ruffle through the bag for her ballet slippers. 'Ok, let's head inside and we can put these on, yeah?' Grace was already skipping ahead, leading herself into the building and the cubby's where she could leave her sneakers while she wore the slippers required for class.

Harvey took Harper from Donna, lifting the girl out of her arms before setting her on her feet and telling her to follow her sister.

'How were they really?' Donna asked, the two of them trailing Harper into the building. The girls could be a handful, even for her on the best of days. Donna just wanted to know that her daughters deserved the ice cream Harvey would offer them on their way to dinner.

'Perfect, honestly.' She felt his hand find the small of her back once again, thumb stroking over her spine. 'Although, is there a reason why Grace has to be right more than Harper?'

Donna shrugged, 'She got that from you'.

'I thought we had a little more time before the one-upping started.' He could remember arguing with Markus, picking fights, stealing toys and general teasing but he was sure they were older than the girls are now. 'This one isn't going to fight with them.' He said it and yet he knew better, his other hand reaching for her stomach as he rubbed the curve of their third child.

She chuckled, eyes alight with humour and a knowing smile. 'Oh, Harvey, he doesn't stand a chance with those two for sisters.' Her hand joined his, fingers grazing his knuckles before she wrapped her hand around his arm and pushed herself onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

They sat like that while the girls followed their teacher around the room, Donna's arm entwined with his, her head on his shoulder, their fingers laced. The girls jumped and shimmied and twirled around on their toes, giggling as their tutu's bounced.

He needed to make more time for this. Donna, the girls, just being with them and taking part in their schedule.

The girls got ten minutes at the end of the lesson for free dance where the laughter of the small group of four-year-olds only increased as an energetic Taylor Swift song blasted through the speakers. He watched their broad grins, the joy shining on their faces as they jumped around the room, letting their little bodies move to the music. Harper broke away from the group, sprinting towards her parents as her little hands wrapped around her father's. 'Come dance, Daddy!' She giggled, pulling on his hands as her little body wiggled away from them.

Powerless, Harvey followed, Harper holding one hand while Grace came over to take the other. He danced with his daughters, the girls doing twirls at his feet, holding onto a single finger as they did so. He couldn't help but laugh, Harvey in his Tom Ford suit, dancing with his daughters and the other girls in their dance class. He could feel his heart expanding with love for them, the muscle clenching as it did when he found out about them and again when they were born. It was resizing, making room for another memory, expanding with his love for them. When Harvey looked towards Donna, ready to share his glee, she had her phone up, half obscuring her face as she recorded the moment they shared.

'Can you come every week?!' Grace beamed, sitting still beside her mother while Harvey knelt at her feet, lacing up her sneakers.

He wanted to. God, did he want to be there every week to watch them learn and grow but work wasn't always that simple. Meetings were scheduled, depositions had to be done, paperwork finished, trials to prepare for. He tried to be home; his secretary knew not to schedule him too late if she could help it. But that wasn't the job he had, a regular nine-to-five, where he could be home every day to spend time with his daughters.

'I'm going to make more of an effort, ok?' This time was fleeting, sure Grace would likely still with ballet until she was well into her teens, they would have recitals and competitions to attend, but this fun, this excitement of having their dad there, that time was limited. He didn't want to ruin it. 'Ready to go home?' Ray would be waiting outside for them already, ready to take them home for the evening.

Grace gave her father a nod, feet swinging with her shoes securely fastened. He picked her up in an easy movement, hoisting Grace on one hip as he reached for Harper to do the same on the other side. Donna rolled her eyes, a fond smile spreading across her lips at the vision of her husband, a daughter on each hip, cheeks still pink from dancing with them in their ballet class.

They had waited so long for this to happen, the marriage, the family, the life. It felt like if someone pinched them, they would wake up from an all too pleasant dream and it would all be over. No one had pinched him yet and Harvey was happy that they hadn't.

'Ready?' He asked Donna, making sure they were set.

'Ready.' Her warm smile touched him, setting Harvey alight with a love he never felt he deserved. Tonight, they would go home, cook dinner, bathe their daughters and put them to bed just as they had done every night since they were a few months old and like they would do for years to come.

[blessed-but-distressed]

#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

also on ff.net and ao3

Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon  @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin and whoever else asks me.

A/N: Yep. It’s been forever. And to add insult to injury, this is only Part 1 of 2. But umm... yay content?

***

SOS. My boss is wearing a powdered wig, and a guy in US flag speedos and nothing else just spilled punch down my dress. ES

What's this? A damsel in distress? Sounds like a perfect opportunity for a certain bearded gentleman to swoop in. One with cocktail knowledge and combat experience. Where is dear Rambo tonight? KJ

Don't call him that. And he's in Belfast, doing research. You know, like academics are supposed to do? ES

Ah, yes. Research. I've heard of it. KJ

That's it? No daring rescue plan? We have a code T here. ES

Code T? KJ

T for Transparent. As in, my dress. From being soaked through with punch by that asshole. Am I painting a clear enough picture? ES

I assure you, the image is extremely vivid. You might've led with that. Where is this damnable affair taking place, again? KJ

***

Emma

It wasn't that Emma was ashamed of where she came from. Not exactly. Recent election results aside, she had to acknowledge she hadn't ended up teaching American History by accident. Even when her country frustrated her, you had to admit, it was never boring. It was just...

She'd never been a foreigner before. Not really. A week in Cabo. That time Mary Margaret had forced her to third-wheel on a couple's ski trip to the Laurentians. Because that wasn't awkward at all.

But if she'd thought her American-ness would be a novelty in Scotland, she'd been seriously deluding herself.

Between the onset of summer vacation, the Instagram-worthy architecture and the enduring appeal of Jamie Fraser, there had never been more Americans in Edinburgh than there were at that moment. The Outlander Effect, they were calling it.

And Emma couldn't exactly miss them. They were everywhere, and not just herding en masse down the Royal Mile. On the bus. Crowding into the Jinglin' Geordie on Open Mic Night. Talking group assignments in the Starbucks line. Hell, a lot of her own students came equipped with homegrown accents, her class allowing their studies to mesh seamlessly with the syllabus back home.

Most encounters were pretty jarring. Like listening to your own voice played back on a recording.

Do I really sound like that?

She hoped not.

Did it really take me that long to figure out it isn't pronounced Edin-burg?

No comment.

Do I really have trouble translating common anglicisms?

Only sometimes.

Usually when they came out of the mouth of someone like Will Scarlet, and she couldn't tell if he was using some highly localized Derbyshire dialect, or if he was just fucking with her.

Sure, Killian tried a little too hard to sound like some kind of dashing 17th-century buccaneer most of the time, but at least it was still recognizable as a form of English. With Will though, she could never really be sure.

Still, after nearly a year, she liked to think she had a handle on things. She could order a 'Laphroaig' without completely mangling it, and knew enough to keep an umbrella on her person at all times. And if and when her cravings for American snack foods struck, they were being plenty satisfied by her local Sainsbury's, who kept one shelf fully stocked with all of the Twinkies, Peanut Butter Cups, and Lucky Charms a girl could ever wish for.

So when her Head of Department was looking for volunteers for their annual Fourth of July barbecue, Emma had to admit she did try to get out of it.

It was her own fault, really. It was summer. She should've been sunning it up in the Algarve with the rest of her colleagues, day drinking, and returning her skin tone to a less deathly pallor. Instead, she was the sucker who'd been roped into teaching Summer School classes to a revolving door of international students, who were keen to let some of the school's reputation rub off on them, without the three or four year commitment. Every three weeks a new lot arrived, and Emma's life descended into Groundhog Day as she repeated her lectures anew, reliving the same debates and excuses on a constant loop.

So she only had herself to blame when the department head went looking for warm bodies, that hers was the only one still lingering in the corridors.

"Great!" her boss said, clapping her hands together. "Don't forget to wear something festive!"

Festive.

There was no way this wasn't going to be a disaster.

***

The damsel in distress line might've rankled her, but she had to hand it to the guy, he came through.

Fifteen minutes after she'd barricaded herself in the bathroom after The Fruit Punch Incident she was summoned curbside, arms still determinedly crossed over her chest, to where a black cab sat idling, an incorrigible Englishman leaning against it holding up a leather holdall.

"Does Elsa know you went through her closet?" she asked, eyeing the bag.

"Who do you think paid for the cab?" he grinned.

Emma really needed to send that woman a fruit basket or something. Did people still do that? Send fruit baskets? Elsa would know. She probably went to one of those fancy Swiss finishing schools, where you learned shit like that.

The bag even smelled expensive as Killian handed it over, his eyes dropping for the first time to properly take in her ruined outfit, and lingering.

"Don't even say it," she warned, as he fought to suppress a grin.

She was never wearing a white sundress again. Ever.

"If anyone could pull it off..." he began, but a warning finger cut him off.

The picture of innocence, he raised his hands and stepped away. Which was precisely the moment Emma realized they were not, in fact, alone.

"In a spot of bother, milady?" came the cheerful greeting from the figure still wedged into the backseat of the cab, waving at her.

Robin. Attractive single Dad Robin, with the Oxbridge accent, criminal mastermind father, and good sense to keep his eyes averted.

"What the hell?" Emma hissed under her breath, whacking Killian in the shoulder. "Are we charging admission for my humiliations now?"

"Easy, lass," he said, rubbing the spot where she'd hit him. "I was out with Robin when you texted. I was hardly going to leave him on his own, now was I? Not very good form."

She glanced back to where Robin sat, whistling to himself, then back to Killian. "Oh, so now you're the honorable one?"

"What's this?" he scoffed. "An attack on my character? And after I've orchestrated such a dashing rescue? A fair maiden in distress and I'm on the spot."

The indignation would've been a little easier to swallow if his grin hadn't been quite so… wolfish.

"Yeah, right," Emma said with a roll of her eyes. "Like this isn't making it into your column."

He didn't deny it. He didn't need to. Just offered her a clumsy wink, and motioned to the building before them.

"One good turn deserves another, don't you think?" he suggested, and Emma's stomach dropped. "How does one merit an invitation to an exclusive gathering of expatriates, exactly? Do they check passports at the door? Make you recite the Pledge of Allegiance?"

He held his prosthetic over his heart, and affixed a solemn expression.

"Wrong hand, asshole," she said, grabbing his wrist and tugging his hand back down by his side.

"Probably for the best," Killian shrugged. "I confess I don't actually know the words. Does the School of Rock version count?"

"You seriously want to go up there? You know they're celebrating their independence from the English, right?"

"I'm a journalist, Swan. An arbiter of truth. Would you really deny me the materials I need to make an honest living?"

"You're a hack," Emma grumbled, clutching the bag of clothes to her chest.

"Aye, that I am," Killian agreed, dropping his voice at least an octave. "But a rather dashing one, don't you think?"

So this is how Killian Jones got what he wanted. The ol' razzle dazzle.

It wasn't entirely ineffective. With a huff of annoyance, Emma walked over to lean by the window of the cab. "What do you say, Robin? Want to see my countrymen cut loose and fight about politics?"

He tilted his head, considering her offer. "Do you really put marshmallows in your sweet potatoes?"

"Different holiday. But yeah, we do."

"Alright then," he said, gathering up his belongings where they were strewn across the back seat. "I'll be there presently."

Rapping her knuckles against the side of the cab, she turned back to Killian, who was looking unbearably pleased with himself. Even more than usual.

"Lead the way, lass" he declared, with an exaggerated bow.

"It's a little too late to play at being the gentleman, don't you think?" Emma pointed out.

"Oh?" he asked, his gaze unnervingly direct. "And why is that, Swan?"

If he was trying for intimidation, then he really didn't know Emma well enough. Instead, she simply turned to lead the way back up the stairs to the front stoop, bag swinging by her side. "I'm just saying…" she replied in a sing-song voice. "A gentleman wouldn't have looked."

***

When Emma pictured a Fourth of July barbecue, she pictured hot dogs, hyperactive neighborhood kids with water pistols, and sunshine. The Edinburgh version was something very different.

For one thing, it was not a family affair. For another, she doubted you could even really call it a barbecue, when there was no grill in sight. And unfortunately, for Emma, the party was still in full swing when she returned after her costume change, all of her dreams for a quick getaway evaporating along with the last of the punch.

If anything, the numbers had swelled with a sea of Uncle Sams and Lady Liberties spilling out into the garden, wine glasses in hand. If Emma hadn't already realized the gross pay disparity between educators and administrators, the garden would've really sealed it.

You couldn't swing a Heriot Row townhouse on Emma's salary. Hell, you couldn't even swing a Heriot Row parking space on Emma's salary. Yet somehow, the university muckety-muck who'd been bullied into hosting this little soiree didn't seem to have that problem.

At least the booze was free.

Emma looked longingly over at the refreshments table, but gave it a wide berth. The last thing she needed to do was ruin her borrowed sweater. It was a little on the tight side, but she did appreciate its fuzzy warmth. Even as she wondered if Killian had purposefully picked out the preppiest sweater he could find, or if she was just cursed.

"Hey," came a call from her left. It was a guy in a Captain America outfit, with none of Chris Evan's dimensions. "Ivanka, right?"

Emma looked down at herself, wondering if that was the name of the designer. "I'm sorry?"

"You're dressed as Ivanka Trump, right? Nice."

He was gone before she could deny it, and she glanced back to the gilded mirror in the hallway in alarm. With her hair recently straightened, she had to admit to a passing resemblance. If you squinted.

Oh god.

She had to find the boys and get them out of here, before she was pilloried as a Republican infiltrator.

She scanned the crowd, but the only person in a leather jacket she saw was channeling Maverick from Top Gun. Frustrated, she headed out into the garden, where she spotted Robin, cornered amongst the shrubberies by a very determined looking woman in a Wonder Woman costume.

Was Wonder Woman even American, technically?

Whatever the debates on her true origin, Emma had to admit the woman pulled off the look, even if the cleavage spilling out from the neckline of the outfit was a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen. She was fully fixated on Robin, her fingers trailing up and down his arm, laughing at one of his anecdotes.

As she walked by she shot him a questioning look, in case he needed an assist, but he just gave a wink, and started in on a new story.

Hot Single Dad Robin still had it. And something told her he wouldn't be up for any plan that involved cutting out with her early.

Heaving a sigh, she liberated a Coors Light from an icebox and took another turn around the garden.

"Ivanka?" Another woman asked, her look practically accusatory.

"Elle Woods," Emma blurted out. The sweater was baby blue, not pink, but it was the best she could come up with on the fly.

Hurrying away from that interaction, she rounded a pillar and finally came upon her quarry, sitting alone on a bench beside a gurgling water feature.

"And here I thought you'd be the life of the party," Emma said, snagging the space beside him. She gestured towards where Robin was getting half his face mauled off by Wonder Woman. "Was every other member of the Justice League taken?"

She was rewarded with the ghost of a smile, but his gaze was still fixed ahead, not really seeing, as he rolled an unopened bottle of Budweiser between his fingers.

"You okay?" Emma asked, taking the bottle from his hand and removing the cap with a well-placed tap against the side of the bench.

"Where'd you learn that little trick?" he asked, ignoring her question as he accepted the open bottle.

"A bus shelter in Framingham, Massachusetts." It was more detail than he was expecting, and she nearly laughed at the sudden brightness in his eyes. "It was my first beer. You kind of remember stuff like that."

"You has your first beer in a bus shelter in Framingham Massachusetts?" He repeated it back, like there was something especially weird about that.

"Yeah. I was 14, and in between foster homes. Stole a six pack from the Stop and Shop after the clerk told me off for browsing the magazines. And then some old army vet at the bus shelter showed me how to take the cap off against the side of a trash can."

He furrowed his brows. "You're trying to get me to open up by revealing things about yourself. Which you never do."

"Maybe," Emma offered, taking a swig of her beer. "Is it working?"

He took a long sip on his own bottle, made a face, and then settled it back into his lap. "You mentioned a brush with the law, as a teenager. I'm assuming that wasn't for underage drinking at bus stops?"

Emma grimaced. "Not so much. Possession of stolen goods, with intent to sell. I got lucky. The watch I had on me was worth just shy of $500. They knocked it down to a misdemeanor and I got probation."

"You stole a watch?"

"No, my skeezy boyfriend stole a case of watches. I just happened to be wearing one when he called the cops to frame me while he took off to Canada with the rest."

"When he what?! Please tell me this wanker is dead in a ditch somewhere." Emma had to admit, she didn't mind his tone. Like he might go out and finish the job, if need be.

Emma shrugged, picking at the label on her bottle. "Probably. I never saw him again after that."

"So that explains it," Killian huffed.

"Explains what?" Emma asked, preparing to get defensive.

"Your Walsh fellow's appeal. I'm guessing he wasn't the larcenous type?"

Oh. Not even remotely.

"Yeah, he was the kind of guy who washed out his jars before he put them in the recycling. He was kind of the anti-Neal."

"That was his name? Neal?"

"Neal Cassidy," Emma sighed. "And yes, like the writer. He had it changed when he was 18 as a Fuck You to his Dad."

"Well, he sounds like a right tosser."

Emma snorted. "Yeah, pretty much."

"And not all that clever, if he thought losing you for a case of watches was an even trade."

That had Emma looking up, sarcastic retort on the tip of her tongue. But instead of making fun, Killian's expression was deadly serious, eyes meeting hers directly. Like he actually meant it. Emma's gaze flicked back to the label on her beer, nearly entirely peeled away by this stage, and fought to keep her face level.

"You think so?" she asked, her words coming out less jokingly than she intended.

"I do."

It was the answer that had her looking back up again, a frown forming. "Killian, I-"

"You're worth at least two cases," he added. "Maybe three. I mean, what are we talking here? Cartier? Rolex?" His eyebrow was raised again in that familiar roguish way.

Emma let out a breath, and extinguished the tiny flame that burned somewhere inside her stomach. Friends, she reminded herself. They were friends.

"You're hilarious," Emma replied deadpan. "And if we're going to continue sharing, I really need something stronger than this," she said, tipping back her head and draining the last of her bottle.

"When I was looking for extra chairs earlier, I think I saw a wet bar in the study. Fancy a dram?" Killian asked, rising to his feet.

"Oh, so you're journalistic snooping does come in handy sometimes?"

"More than sometimes," he said with a grin that would fell a lesser beast. And suddenly Emma wasn't so sure the flame was truly out.

Later, she still couldn't recall whether he'd held out a hand to take her empty bottle, or to help her up. All she knew, was as they moved from the garden back to the party proper, she had Killian's hand in hers.

***

Reasons Not To Push Killian Jones Up Against The Nearest Wall And Have Your Way With Him:

1. Hello, work event. Have some goddamn professionalism.

2. You're wearing Elsa's clothes. Don't make this weird.

3. You like him, and never talking to him again would suck.

4. He would definitely allude to it in his column, and you would have to emigrate. Again.

5. Graham. Oh, fuck. Graham.

***

The upstairs study was everything you'd expect from an overpaid university administrator. Soft red leather furnishings. Framed certificates covering an entire wall. A solid oak desk that could, hypothetically, bear the weight of two people at once.

And, oh yeah, the promised wet bar.

Emma was not, nor had she ever been, a cheater. And even if she and Graham were still only in the "getting to know you" phase of tentative texts and PG-13 cocktail hours, she knew betraying that would still be a shitty thing to do.

So when Killian offered her the glass of whisky, she didn't do what she wanted to do, which was down the lot and drag him towards her by the collar. Instead, she sat on the red leather couch as far from him as possible, and held the glass in front of her like a shield.

"Reminds me of your jacket," he said with a smile, letting his hand glide against the upholstery. Emma's skin still tingled from where his hand had gripped hers, so unused to foreign contact.

She took a gulp of her drink, and let it burn down her esophagus in penance for her crimes. Only once she'd regained sufficient control of her hormones did she speak.

"So, are you going to tell me what's been up with you?

"Up with me?" Killian replied, his oh-so-innocent look oh-so-unconvincing. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh, I don't know," Emma said, rolling her eyes heavenward. "The sudden phone emergencies. The brooding. The black eye. You've been different lately. Kind of… subdued, for you."

In answer, Killian drained what was left of his glass, and turned to face her. "Perceptive, aren't you, Swan?" He didn't sound happy about the fact.

Emma shrugged, taking another sip. "You can't kid a kidder."

He considered that, finger tapping absently against the side of his glass. "Perhaps not. Very well then. The truth: The magazine is broke."

It wasn't what Emma had been expecting. What had she been expecting? A secret drug habit? Abusive new girlfriend? Fight Club?

"Broke?" she repeated.

"Utterly. But instead of accepting the inevitable, and bowing out gracefully, my brother, well-intentioned idiot that he is, decided to take what was left in the coffers and make a few wagers."

Emma's heart sank into her stomach. "He didn't."

"Oh, he did. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, apparently. Lost the lot. Bloody prat. Thought he'd come back a conquering hero. Instead he's having to dip into his own savings to keep the whole operation afloat until he can find a way to pay back his bookie."

That explained the black eye.

"And no one knows about this? Don't you have accountants or something?"

"There is a fellow, Tim, who's been covering for him. Let him take out the entire balance in the first place, didn't he? So now he feels equally culpable. So there's Liam. Tim. Me. And now you."

"Elsa doesn't know?"

"Not in so many words. She isn't bloody stupid though. He's been decidedly distracted on the homefront. Probably thinks he's having a mid-life crisis or an affair or something stupid. Would be easier to just tell her, but the problem is, he knows if she finds out about it she'll feel obligated to help."

"Well, that would be a good thing, right? No more, uhhh…" Emma waved a hand over her eye.

"Well, when Elsa's parents died, they left her a good deal of money. Most of it went towards the house, and setting up her sister in New York, but there's enough left to get Weaver off his back. Problem is, my brother's pride would never let him accept it. And then there's the matter of Elsa's aunt."

"Elsa's aunt?"

"She owns the magazine. And let's just say, she's not quite as err… understanding as Elsa can be. If she gets word of it, there'll be criminal charges."

"Fuck."

"Fuck,' he agreed, leaning forward in his chair to pour himself another whisky.

"And you've just been carrying this all around on your shoulders for what? Months?"

"But what magnificent shoulders, wouldn't you say, Swan?" The grin was almost leering, but not in a good way. More in a defense mechanism kind of way.

"Don't do that," Emma chided, leaning over to smooth the wrinkle above his brows with her fingers. "Just be you."

"And how is that?" He asked, with a look of such genuine curiosity that her hand paused somewhere in the region of his jaw.

"Same as me," Emma shrugged. "A little fucked up. A little scared."

She leaned forward then, and placed a kiss on that same spot above his brow.

Maybe it wasn't where she'd wanted to kiss him five minutes ago, but it felt right. She heard him inhale sharply underneath her, but she didn't immediately break contact. Not until his face relaxed, and his arms came up to wrap around her waist.

She let her head fall onto his shoulder, and his on hers, breathing each other in. Comfortable fucking silence.

Only when her phone started chirping in her pocket did she pull away at last, steadying herself on his shoulders. "You're going to be okay, Killian Jones. You and your fucked up family."

The grin was wry, but it was real.

"You going to get that?" he asked, ducking his chin down to where they were practically intertwined. Probably best not to add vibration to the mix.

She fished the phone out of her pocket, and checked the caller ID.

August.

He never called. He sent ten page letters typed up on his pretentious vintage typewriter, but he never called.

With a look of apology, she peeled herself off of Killian's lap, and hit accept.

"August? Is someone dead?"

"Em! Where are you?" Wherever he was, he sounded cheerful. And just a little bit drunk. Well, it was the Fourth of July.

"Where am I? I'm in Scotland, where I'm supposed to be. How much have you had to drink?"

"Nooo," he corrected, words slurring a little. "I mean, where right now? Someone in your department told me you were at this party. But no one remembers seeing you. Are you here?"

Emma's stomach lurched. "Party? You mean, in Edinburgh?"

"Of course, in Edinburgh! The party I'm at, it's at… hang on," his words muffled as he conferred with nearby partygoers, "17 Heriot Row?"

Oh. Fucking. Fuck. Fucking August and his fucking surprises.

"I'll be five minutes. Stay right where you are."

Feeling the color drain from her face, she ended the call, and tucked her phone back into the pocket of her borrowed jeans. "We need to get downstairs. I need to-" She looked around for a mirror, but there were none in the vicinity. Of course.

"Lass?" He had her by the elbow, holding her still. "What has you all a-flutter?"

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. "You remember I mentioned my friend August?"

"Knee still creaks when it rains, August?" The boy did have superior recall. "Novelist August?"

"Yeah. Anyway, he's downstairs."

[feelingfredly]

It’s Not Easy Being Green

Another Bleach-verse Bit

“Ow! Shit! Kisuke,” Ichigo called from the bedroom, “what the hell?  Why do you have the damn dresser booby-trapped?”

Kisuke frowned a little to himself as he headed down the hallway.

“Did you try to open the drawer I told you was off limits?”

The redhead came out shaking his burned hand.  His eyebrows were drawn tightly together in pain and he glared.

“I was just trying to put the laundry away.  Tessai was finishing up the dango and he asked me to put your clothes in the drawer.  He didn’t tell me I should get combat pay for doing his chores.”

Kisuke sighed.  Tessai designed the seal on the chest, so opening it was no trouble for him.  No one else had ever had access to Kisuke’s private rooms until recently. It probably didn’t even occur to him that Ichigo wouldn’t be able to open it; Kisuke had given him free access to every other aspect of the Shōten… even the labs.  The dresser shouldn’t have been an issue.

But somehow it was.

Kisuke snagged Ichigo’s hands and murmured a healing kidō spell, allowing the green glow to fill the space between them instead of an explanation.

“I’m sorry you were injured, Ichigo-kun.” Kisuke dropped a quick kiss to the younger man’s temple.  “Better, now?”

Ichigo flexed his fingers, his scowl fading into something more like curiosity.

“Yeah, thanks.” Ichigo jerked a thumb in the direction of the bedroom.  “I dropped the laundry, though.  Sorry.”

Kisuke patted him on the shoulder, and gently pushed past him in the narrow hallway.  “That’s understandable in the circumstances.  I will take care of it.  Why don’t you go to the kitchen and see if Tessai-san has anything else you could help with?”

Ichigo gave him a look and Kisuke braced himself for questions that never came.  He wasn’t that surprised.  Ichigo, of all people, understood the value of privacy.  Instead, the redhead reached up and gave him a tender kiss, an unusual exhibition of affection that said clearly that as far as he was concerned, whatever Kisuke was keeping hidden was okay. Then, he wandered off towards the front of the house.

Kisuke watched him walk away.  He was an amazing man, and Kisuke knew he was lucky things had worked out the way they had.  So much of what he’d done could have tipped the scales against him.  He would never have known this acceptance.  This peace.

The sex was nothing to sneeze at, either.

The bedroom door was ajar, and he closed it behind him.  The pile of green fabric on the floor in front of the dresser was a silent testament to the truth of Ichigo’s explanation, not that he’d ever believe a Kurosaki capable of such bald-faced lying.  If he’d wanted in the drawer, he’d simply have pestered Kisuke until he gave in. And Kisuke would have.  It was a sad truth that there was nothing he would deny his love if he asked.  He was just grateful that Ichigo had restraint enough not to push.

The seal on the drawer was intact but had changed from gold to red to show that someone had interfered with it.  Tessai had created it in the months after their banishment to the Living World, realizing quickly that there was going to be a need to be able hide things from prying eyes if they were going to actually try to live among the humans.

A grimace twisted Kisuke’s lips.  The whole thing was overly dramatic and sentimental.  Shinji would harass him unmercifully if he knew, and that would come after Hiyori had her turn tormenting him.

He unraveled the seal and opened the drawer, parting the protective layer of silk that covered the contents.

Kisuke ran the jinbei through his fingers, marveling at how well the fabric held up under the protective seal.  No one would believe it was almost a hundred years old.

Well, everyone who knew him would believe it, but still, it really was in unusually good shape.

Castaway in the human world, with no lab and no materials he’d struggled with his first gigai. Tessai and the Visored had preferred to remain in their spirit forms rather than deal with the problems of fitting into a world not meant for them.  Kisuke, though, had realized that they would need something to bargain with if they were ever to regain even footing with Soul Society.  He needed to find something to trade on that would ensure their safety.  Something Soul Society would not want to lose once they’d gotten it, and to do that, he had to tap the local resources.

He’d been in Soul Society for so long that he hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to fit in.  He was too tall.  Too blond. He was lucky that there’d recently been an influx of Europeans, and he’d taken advantage of the new political climate. He created a history for himself as the son of missionaries from Nagasaki who moved to the area outside Tokyo after they died. It didn’t matter that he knew next to nothing about the religion; none of the locals knew anything about it either.   All his neighbors cared about was that he was able to fix almost anything, from ox-carts to fevers, was hard-working, and respectful of the locals and their customs.

He’d worn something akin to his shihakusho in the beginning out of habit, but it drew too much attention.  He didn’t want to look like someone ready for a fight, because that was usually how you found you found yourself in the middle of one. Kimono were too restrictive for some things, and when he wore samue, he found that dressing like a Buddhist priest made people want you to act like one.

One blistering hot summer day, though, he’d been called to a nearby farm to help with a broken irrigation pump and well.  He’d sweated through his kimono in no time, dripping miserably as he and the nine-year-old eldest son of the household repaired the ancient pipes.   His mother had been widowed the year before when her husband ran afoul of a wild boar in the woods, and Kisuke knew she was struggling to keep the household afloat. Many of the elders had pushed for her to remarry, but she refused. She was determined to keep her independence, and to make the property that had meant so much to her husband profitable, and Kisuke couldn’t help but feel a kinship with someone else struggling to support so many who depended on them.

Luckily, he’d developed a reputation as a fair businessman and when he suggested that she wait to pay him for his services until after the harvest season she accepted gratefully, and they’d agreed on a price that she could pay when funds became available.

It was only a few days later, though, that he’d received a package.   It was neatly wrapped in brown paper and tied with a length of expensive silk ribbon.  The little boy who delivered it looked just like his older brother but had handed over the package with a series of jerky bows before running off without saying a word. The note that accompanied it simply said, “A humble gift for you, Urahara-san. May it bring you comfort in the days to come.”

The green was muted, a small gray stripe marking the texture of the fabric.  The shoulder-seams were loosely sewn to allow air movement, and Kisuke marveled that the woman had been able to produce something of such fine quality in such a short period of time.

He’d changed into it immediately, the jinbei wrapped comfortably around him, and Tessai had raised an eyebrow at the style.

“Doesn’t it suit me, Tessai-san?” he’d asked. Tessai had just shrugged.

He wore it all summer and every time he washed it, he marveled at the quality of it and sent gracious thoughts to the woman who’d given him such an unusually useful gift.

It wasn’t until September, after the rice had been harvested, that Kisuke saw the woman again.

“Urahara-san,” she greeted him.  She was standing over a basket of chestnuts at the grocer's stall and she looked truly pleased to see him.  “This is most fortuitous! I was hoping to run into you.”

Kisuke bowed deeply.  The woman was handsome, and the colorful layers of her kimono set off the healthy color of her skin and the sparkle in her eyes.

“I am happy to see you well, Ogawa-san.” He dipped his head again. “I could not resist the call of the chestnuts.  A friend told me I could expect them at the market today, and I can see that he was not mistaken.”

Ogawa-san nodded again.  Her impulsive smile faded when she realized that he was wearing the jinbei she had given him, and she inclined her head in the direction of the end of the row of shop stalls.

“If you could perhaps delay your chestnut hunt a few minutes longer, there is something I wish to discuss with you.”

She turned to the young woman walking with her. “Akko-chan, would you please find your brother?  I believe he ran down to the blacksmith’s shop to ask about the nails I ordered.  I will meet you by the potter’s stall in a few minutes and we can pick up the new teapot. Hm?”

The girl looked at Kisuke curiously but did as her mother bid.

“She is a good girl,” Ogawa-san said, watching her hurry away. “She tolerates all of her mother's whims. I have been very lucky since my husband died. And it all culminated with a broken water pipe.”

Kisuke looked at her enquiringly.  It was unusual for a woman to be as forthright as Ogawa-san, but she’d shown before that she wasn’t a typical farmer’s wife.

“I hope you will bear with me for a moment, Urahara-san.” She looked a little nervous, but she flexed her fingers minutely in the edges of her kimono sleeves and stiffened her spine. “When my husband died, I didn’t know what to do.  I had helped him, as a wife should, but I admit I had ideas about the farm that troubled his traditional mind. Notions of how things might be done more efficiently, or safely. Someday. And then suddenly I found myself in a position to create something that would be a huge help to the rice farmers, and I gambled everything I had on making it work.”

Kisuke walked silently along, his mind spinning.  He had heard a few rumors in town, but even after all this time he was an outsider and gossip took a long time to reach him.

“I proceeded with the planting as usual.  My neighbors went above and beyond to help, even if I was challenging the elders and the normal way of things by not remarrying and letting another man take over the farm.”

She stopped and stared into the distance, her mind clearly far away.

“It was hard sometimes. There were so many doors shut in my face just because of who I was. It was... disheartening. Please believe me, my husband was a good man.  I have been blessed with healthy children.   However, I wanted something else. Something I could call my own.  And now I have it.” She turned her face to Kisuke. “Thanks to you.”

Kisuke shook his head.  “I don’t know what you’re speaking of, all I did was extend a little generosity to a neighbor.  I don’t…”

Ogawa-san raised a hand.

“What you did was exactly what no one else was willing to do.  You gave me, a widowed woman alone, a chance. Urahara-san, you believed that I would uphold my end of our bargain.  You treated me as an equal.  And by extending that generosity you mentioned, you gave me the financial flexibility to continue with the project of my heart. My invention. Something, I am happy to say, I have just returned from selling to a company in Tokyo.”

Kisuke's curiosity was piqued. “An invention?”

She smiled and nodded. “I designed a rice transplanting wheel that should cut down the time it takes to plant a paddy the size of mine down to two days only using the labor of two people.  Two days!”

Kisuke stared at her.  If what she was saying was true, it would change…  everything.

“You built…?”

Ogawa-san shook her head.  “Not exactly.  I admit, I have very little skill with actually building the things I think of.  If I were better at that, I wouldn’t have had to ask you to help with the pump in the first place.”  She smiled. “I am glad that I asked, though.  And I am glad that you accepted my token of gratitude at the time.”

She waved her fan up and down indicating the jinbei Kisuke was wearing.

“I ordered that for my husband as a surprise, but…” she looked away, sadness flitting quickly across her face. “Well, it would have been a shame to leave it sitting unused on a shelf when it clearly suited you.”

She looked back again.  “I hope that doesn’t bother you.  That it was not made for you.”

Kisuke shook his head and bowed briefly.  “I do not mind at all, Ogawa-san.  As a matter of fact, in some ways it makes it an even greater gift.”

Ogawa-san gave a little smile and bowed her head in return. “I am pleased.  I am also pleased to be able to pay you for your services as we agreed, but I wanted the chance to explain.  I wanted you to understand that on that day, you changed my life for the better. Thank you, Urahara-san.”

They parted then, Ogawa-san to meet up with her family, and Kisuke to get Tessai’s chestnuts.  After that he received his payment as promised, but it was the jinbei that he always considered the most important part of that transaction.

Everyone asked why he always wore the same outfit?  Why wear something so old-fashioned? Why the green?  Why? Why?

He admitted that it was an illogical decision. Part of it was that the jinbei was the first "uniform" he truly felt belonged to him. He’d been dressed by the Shihōin, first as a retainer, then as a member of the Second.  He’d worn the Captain’s haori for Yoruichi, and then even that had been taken from him.  The jinbei was just…  his.  Add to it the fact that every time he put it on, he remembered that there was one time that instead of screwing things up he’d actually helped someone.   He’d made a difference. Full stop.

It was a good enough reason for him.

“Hey, Kisuke?” Ichigo was outside the door. “Everything okay in there?”

Even now he’s giving me space, Kisuke thought ruefully. I am a ridiculous old man to be keeping silly secrets. Ichigo wouldn’t laugh. He’d understand.

He refolded the jinbei and placed it carefully on his lap.

“Come in, Ichigo-kun,” he said, forcing a smile into his voice. “Everything is fine.”

Ichigo pushed the door open and saw that the mystery drawer was open, and the laundry was still all over the floor.

“Kisuke?” He raised a worried eyebrow and Kisuke laughed under his breath. He really loved this man.

“Come and sit with me for a moment, Ichigo-kun.” Kisuke patted the futon beside him. “I have a story to tell you.”

[tgr489]

Happy birthday, to me...

Friday last week was the big day and to celebrate I tried to, and managed, to cram a lot in. Gotta make the most of the longest day of the year, well in the northern hemisphere anyway. 

The last couple of years has seen me waking up with the sun and Friday was no exception. I lay in bed without moving, thinking of what has been and what’s to come, that kinda cross roads again. I didn’t dwell on it so got into the day. Showered and a with a coffee to go I was heading out the door. It was 7.45. Plenty of time for a casual walk up broadway in the morning sun to 28th for breakfast with an uncle. Not really an uncle by blood, more friend of the family, he and my dad were partners in a couple of ventures, but I’ve known him forever and he’s looked out for me a little over the last few years. 

Our meeting spot was NoMad, a nice place. He was already there when I arrived, immaculately dressed in a dark blue suit, reading the paper. I’d love to know what drives some older people to always wear suits when they’re well into their older years. I think I’d live in a dressing gown if I was as old as him, and I do think it’s a good thing that he’s not succumbed to wearing a shell suit, like so many other octogenarians. I actually have no idea his age, but he’s been old for as long as I can remember so I guess he must be in his eighties. 

His face lit up as I came to the table, his big smile so infectious, and he rose and gave me a big hug, wishing me happy birthday in the process. I’ve not seen him in a little over a year but we’ve conversed over WhatsApp on and off in that time. He remarked how much I was looking more like my mother and that I’d lost weight but looked good for it. I don’t think I have, but I don’t take much notice of that kinda thing. He ordered for both of us without looking at the menu and he set about grilling me on what I’d been up to and how was a settling back into life. 

He’s an easy guy to talk to and in no way judgemental, so it wasn’t difficult to retell the recent history. ‘You certainly keep it interesting’ was his critical comment when I finished. ‘I can tell you still love her. Are you prepared to take on her baggage?’ He was right. I tell myself I’m over her but my tales tell otherwise. I told him I didn’t know. He said that meant no. ‘You’ll work that out in time, but don’t beat yourself up about it, if you come to the same conclusion as me. Falling in love with someone already saddled with a kid is tricky and hard work which can be unfruitful. Look at what your mother went through.’ Were his last words in the topic. I asked him why he’d never had kids and he mulled it over while finishing his juice. ‘Too selfish... but that’s not a bad thing. You may see that one day.’ There was more to the convo on our plans for the summer and stuff. He invited me to go up and visit him at his summer place, if I had time, which I don’t know yet, but he said that the offer was there. He paid and we walked out together, his driver pulling up as we came out of the building. I declined his offer of a lift so we hugged and went about out days. 

My day continued with calls to various people finalising plans for Jason’s party, which I did walking back downtown, and then shopping for an outfit for said party, plus it’s my birthday so a treat for myself. I didn’t go crazy, a pair of jeans (Edwin), a tee (Supreme) and some sneakers (Reebok Fury reissues). In my way back home to dump all my purchases I had a funny encounter. I was walking past the Bowery and this cute girl was coming out and walking towards me and as she passed I turned to check her out, and got busted as she did the same. She paused and gestured to me so I walked back to her to see where it would go. She asked if we knew each other, but I said I didn’t think so. She asked if worked in music, to which I also said no, but I know a lot of people in the industry. I fessed up to having just been checking her out, no sense in lying, and she blushed a little and said she’d done the same. I seized on that and asked what she was doing later. She was busy all day and had a work thing that evening, talent spotting at a gig, but would be free afterwards. I said maybe but I had birthday drinks planned, which was welcome to join. She countered with a maybe, then went into her handbag and fished out a business card. ‘Call me later’ she said, turned and walked off. I watched her go, she was cute, I knew I would call. 

I dumped my purchases and went to meet Nic for lunch. Nothing extravagant and the time was taken up by general chit chat and checking we were on point with party plans, which we are. The rest of my afternoon I caught up with Sevvy, who manages a gallery I like, over a bottle of fizz. I’ve bought a few pieces from him, which haven’t been too expensive and he gives me discount on occasion. One day he’ll take me for something big. He’s a charmer that guy. 

With a line to see me off I stepped out into the early evening crowds and headed to east village for my birthday drinks. Those that work close were already there, others arrived later. I took a moment between drinks to give Sara, the cute girl I bumped into, a call. I had a feeling she wouldn’t pick up because if the unknown number and thankfully she didn’t, so I left a message telling her where I was. If she came it would be cool, if not, no probs. People left, people came, and people left again. No one seemed up for a biggie so I was gonna call it a night, feeling a little dejected. I bought another round of drinks for those remaining then realised I had a message from the girl. She couldn’t make it but had put me on her guest list at the Cutting Room if I wanted to go to her. So I did and it was unexpected fun. 

The acts weren’t all that but my host certainly was. She was very quirky with her hair in bunches all over her head, and she could certainly drink and was out pacing me 3-2. It got to the point where I’d had enough, so passed up on her last offer of a round. I really fancied food to soak up the liquid, and offered places nearby we could go. She said ‘Nah’ to everything but suggested food at her hotel which was healthy. We left, but as soon as we hit the street I realised how hammered I was, and knew with pretty fine accuracy that anything that may be on the cards would not be as rewarding as if I were more sober. So over a casual stroll in the early morning I eluded to plans for the next day and needing sleep. When we got to her hotel she was blunt and asked me to her room, so I returned the favour and told her I really wanted to, but drunk guys don’t make good rides. She laughed and said I obviously have prior experience. I do. She gave me a big birthday kiss to say goodbye, which almost had me change my decision, but I didn’t, so I walked home. She is in town until Monday and gets to town every few weeks so I told her I’d try see her before she left or definitely when she was in town next. 

I got home sonf the clock of doom was telling me 4.30. Had it really taken that long to walk home.I was sobered up enough to make food, but only toast, anything else was far too complex. I grabbed an ice cold glass of water and headed to my room and found Nic on my bed asleep in all her clothes, I guessed she’d ended her night in a worse state than me. My ears were ringing and I could see my brunch plans falling to pieces as the time calculations weren’t going in my favour. I grabbed some Ibo from the bathroom, took 2 and put the pack by on Nic’s side of the bed with my glass of water. She’d probably need it. I went to sleep comforted having someone next to me, hearing the steady breathing, wondering what dreams were downloading in a bid to decipher the experiences of the day. I thought of my own, and then mentally kicked myself for not going to the hotel room. I sent her a thank you message and wishing her good night, along with a promise to make it. Too soon, maybe but it was fresh in my head so why not. If nothing comes of it at least I’d not been a rude dick.

It was lovely to wake, listening to the sounds of a prayer being offered of the great white god. I was right Nic was bad, me too, but I knew I’d get through mine with a bit more sleep and lots of liquids when I got up. I got woken again later, this time by a nice cuddle, a thank you for medicine, an apology for not meeting me and a nice peace offering of coffee, pastries and water. Nic had got caught up on the rollercoaster of work drinks, I’m sure most, if not everyone has been in that situation, so I said no worries. It was fine, it was just a Friday night after all. I let her tell me about the events while I savoured the coffee.  I know so few of the plethora of people she hangs out with a lot of what she tells me is meaningless. A day will come when I meet one of those in her stories and some of what she’s told me will sink into place. She asked me about my day and night, made me show her the gear I’d bought, chastised me for turning a girl down, again, for a girl who was clearly needing some lovin’ and then said we shout make some lunch. I agreed we needed food and probably juice so we agreed to meet in the kitchen and went for showers. It felt better after that. She beat me to the fridge and already had out what we were gonna have, fresh fruit with yoghurt topped with cage mix. No juice but hey ho I was hungry. 

It was so past 2 so my plans for brunch had been missed by some distance, so I thought to drop a msg to apologise. Phone was dead so plugged it in, then message after message pinged in… When I heard the first ping I thought of Sara, but when I picked the phone up I saw that all 9 were from Jason it all went out the window. What was his beef. All the messages were just missed call alerts with the exception of his last one which gave nothing away and simply said ‘call me’. Why don’t people just send a message telling what the problem is, the intrigue is a killer. I called, he didn’t answer, I messaged ‘Called u, call me’ and ate lunch. He called back having an eppy. The caterers had delivered loads of stuff to his house and were refusing to believe the party was the following week. This was a nightmare because I’d obviously fucked up somewhere. I tried to call them but there was no answer, WTF! Mailed the guy to tell him what was happening then went back through all my mails with him to see where it had gone wrong, but I found nothing. I called again and still no answer so I resigned myself to going to Brooklyn and called Jace to tell him I was on my way. Fuck. I could done without it. 

I told Nic and went to sort my shit out. I heard her leave as I was running through how this could’ve messed up. All would be clear soon enough. It took me while to get to Jason’s, but I made it in tact. All paperwork was correct and the dudes weren’t going anywhere before the balance of the bill was settled in cash. It was difficult to argue with them but I did and kept trying to call their office, but no one was picking up, it was insane! Jace suggested just paying them as he had the money and working it out in the week, which I came round to so went in to the house... to find a house full of people and a surprise party for me. Fuckers!  The relief of no problem to sort was an amazing feeling, even better once I’d had a drink.

A sedate afternoon gradually turned into a messy night as the tunes got progressively harder and the goodies came out to play. I like going to parties where I know lots of people because there’s always a back up if those you don’t know are boring. And when the party’s yours you know most, so it’s all about networking and making sure you get to talk to everyone that made the effort. For me this is a mini adrenaline rush, and I never really feel the full effects of alcohol or anything else I’m on, until the end. By 5am-ish there was only really a handful of people left. The guy who was dj-ing offered a ride home, as he was gonna be passing near mine, but I declined and said I’d walk. I needed the drugs our if my system and that would help. Nic looked pissed at me for it, but didn’t complain. I thanked Jason, we all hugged, said our goodbyes, then Nic and I walked out into the start of a warm sunny day. 

The realisation of the walking mistake hit me before we’d walked 20mins, but I was too stubborn to say, and by the time we were on the bridge I was over it. We stopped on the bridge and took in the view, always quite spectacular, and whilst I wanted to say something, the words never came. I grabbed Nics hand and made to go, but she didn’t budge and just gestured back at the view with a nod of the head. ‘OK’ I said and stood next to her again. She cuddled into me, saying nothing, as we stared again at the river. I knew Nic was at the end of her energy, she stops talking, which is the give away. I wondered if she’d just collapse on me and whether I’d be able to get her home. This has happened before. ‘We need a smoke and bed’ I said. She squeezed my hand and made us walk. We made it the rest of the way without a taxi, me slowly speaking less and less, her not at all. That great sense of relief washed over me as we walked in the door, slightly embarrassed as we passed one of neighbours in the stairwell, but I didn’t care. 

I made some tea and a banger and we sat and had both on the fire escape outside Nic’s window. When both were finished it was bedtime, so we climbed back into her room. I went to leave but she asked me to stay with her. It was nice, I wanted the company too so I said OK. I made a teeth brush handle signal and went to mine. When I came back she was asleep in bed. I climbed in beside her and drifted off giving her a cuddle. 

Sweet Dreams

[ovmatt-blog]

Chapter 3-4. The Final Test

The Shard started exploding, its upper sharp petals blossoming out… I blinked, the Shard was an unblown bud as before. It must have been a trick of the heat – it was abnormally hot for September.

At six a.m. that day, I stepped off the coach’s last footboard and took a deep breath of London air. Having left the carriage, passengers were hurrying to the Tube. Smog-filled morning air was an intoxicating air of freedom for me. Varied smells, unfamiliar and habitual, of vapour and leather trunks, coal tar and cinnamon buns, rubber and expensive scent fragrances – all soared in the air and twined into one bewitching smell of railway station, which excited the passengers and promised to them the fulfilment of their secret wishes and hidden desires…

It was my first time in London, and as I had plenty of time before noon, I hung out in the centre, mingling with the crowds of tourists, gawking at the Eye, Big Ben and the Cucumber. Eating ice-cream, I let the Indian summer sun burn my arms.

I was hiding under the trees and squinting at the sun through the crown of green leaves, sitting on the grass in the park, when somebody said from behind, “I’m homeless!”

I jumped and spun around ready to face a filthy and smelly tramp. Instead, on a yoga mat, sat a guy in a neat business suit, gesturing heavily while talking to somebody invisible. Evidently, he was under constant pressure at work and removed his stress, talking to himself.

“Do you remember? Last April I was placed on a consulting project that required me to be in Edinburgh Monday to Friday every week for six months. Since then I was spending around 18 hours in my apartment in London every 30 days and it cost me over £2,000 a month! I decided to give up my apartment. And I don’t regret –”

I pricked up my ears. Consulting? And this is consultants’ habitual way of life?

He fell silent as if listening to somebody and after several seconds went on, “Because in summer I also didn’t leave in London. All the overtime that I did during the year equalled three months of vacation which I spent in Thailand.”

I twisted my head round. He wasn’t talking to himself? But to whom? And what device did he use?

“I can’t quit! If I leave in the middle of the project, my project manager would blow my brains out!” At that moment he lifted above the grass for an inch, still sitting cross-legged.

My jaw dropped. He’s levitating! Yogi! Illusionist!

Meanwhile the guy burst with anger, “But this nomadic life isn’t so very convenient! I have no place to stay in bed while I’m ill! And I have to store my personal belongings with friends, in my friends’ cars, in the luggage lockers at railway stations. Even my clothes are distributed among dry-cleaners throughout the country for storage…” At this place I stood up and relocated, as I couldn’t stand listening to him anymore…

…At a quarter to twelve I got off at Canary Wharf station and found myself in a world of glass. Reflecting the torrid sun’s rays, the crystal towers rocketed to the sky, higher and higher, their dazzling pearl spears tickling the bellies of fluffy clouds, casting jet shadows down on the stone pavement.

I needn’t have asked the way to Wight Tower. It stood out against the other skyscrapers with its white glass panes without any metallic shine, looking as if it had been enamelled. A few transparent exterior lifts were sliding along its convex smooth side, and white marble stairs, embedded between the lifts, were glittering under the sun, encased in glass.

I bent my head back and started counting the floors as I always did when I saw a skyscraper, “One, two, three, four, five, … , fifty!” Really, it was the tallest building I’d ever seen in my life. When I approached the glass doors, they opened automatically in front of me and let me in.

A gigantic oval lobby, all shining with white mat glass, marble and enamel, was absorbing a huge amount of light. The floor in the centre of its immense space was tiled in twelve concentric circles. I slowly moved across the complex pattern at the floor to the incredibly long crescent-shaped receptionist’s desk, occupied by three gorgeous receptionists. The ten yards high wall behind their backs was spotted with the posh nameplates of the companies that rented offices in the building.

I rapidly scanned the plates– there was only one name beginning with “M”, and it read MAGI. Standing there stunned, I was nearly gasping for air. MAGI! Unbelievable! Absolutely incredible! One of the Big Three! I remembered I had read about it in the Financial Times “…considered to be the most prestigious employer in the management consulting industry.” It couldn’t be true! Though… “MAGI was the first management consultancy to hire recent university graduates, rather than experienced managers.” But I had never graduated from university, still maybe the requirements for interns were different… The clock was ticking, noon was getting close and it was time to put my thinking cap on. I flickered diagonally over the nameplates once again. The names were arranged in alphabetical order, there was no place for mistakes… My heart thumping hard, I swallowed and took several steps forward, choosing the receptionist girl with classic blond updo, dressed in a snow white blouse and grey office jacket.

She looked up when my shadow touched the tips of her fingers, fluttering above the keyboard.

“Hello, I’m Robin Orion, I came to…” I stumbled over the word “MAGI”. I would be making a fool of myself if it turned out I had completely misheard the name of the company. But the girl came to my help, “Do you have a meeting arranged?”

“Yeap, with Cassandra Lime.”

“Interview with MAGI HR, I see. One instant, Mr. Orion.” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Please, head to the lifts and go up to the 50th floor,” the girl took a plastic badge from her desk and handed it to me, “This is a guest card, put it close to the red circle of a turnstile reader. It will turn green and let you through.”

I went past security guards who kept loitering around, evidently having nothing to do. The waist-high glass turnstile gates slid open, letting me in and snapped locked again. Soon I found myself in the lift, crowded with people. I forgot to enter the necessary floor on the panel in the lobby but before I could start worrying about it, the sight of the open world took my breath away. I was like a dove, spreading its wings in flight above London – domes, roofs, globes, glass and stone, smooth glistening water surface… Was I the King of the World at that moment?

“At an OPEC meeting in Vienna, oil ministers decided to remove about 1.8 million barrels per day from the market… Yes, they will extend the cuts in oil output... I suppose, they should do this… When the members of the cartel use their foreign-currency reserves to plug holes in their budgets,” the voice of the oil broker intruded into my fairy flight. The doors imperceptibly opened and closed, letting the brokers, investment bankers and consultants in and out. Curiously, the MAGI office was located on the last floor.

Up, up we went and after we had passed the 45th floor, there remained only two of us in the lift, myself and a short robust fellow – blond-haired, blue-eyed, with a little blush in his cheeks, he was smiling permanently. He drew out of his pocket a striped handkerchief and wiped the droplets of sweat that clung to his forehead. Smiling to me, he asked, “Are you going to the 50th floor?”

“Yeap, to an interview at MAGI,” I answered automatically, all of a sudden having caught the glimpse of a ruby and a small metal ball, spinning slowly in the air near the corner of my eye. But when I turned to get a better look at them, they had vanished.

“What was it?” I asked the blond lad.

He looked to where I was pointing, “What do you mean? I see nothing…” and added, “by the way my name Celestine Clementine, but friends call me Tin-Tin.”

“Robin Orion. Pleased to meet you…”

But we were distracted from discussing flying objects, as the lift doors slid open, revealing to our eyes the white reception area with the MAGI name, designed in golden graceful letters on the wall, flanking the reception and shielded by the thick glass doors.

We knocked on the glass door, making the female receptionist raise her head and press the button at her desk. Glass doors clicked open and we entered. Celestine headed straight to the open-doored room where many young lads and ladies were already sitting in the row of chairs set in semicircles. In front of them was standing an almost bald man, crowned with two clouds of white hair on both sides of his bald patch. Round saucer-like eyes, dimples in his cheeks, a beak-like nose – he was the spitting image of Uncle Goose. He clicked his “beak”, stretched his neck and said, “My name is Mathew Johns, and I am the MAGI Managing director. You were invited to our premises to take the final test…”

I must get this job… I can’t lose it… It is the chance of a lifetime… If I fail to become management consultant…

I looked at my watch. Two minutes past twelve. Feeling really sick I staggered to the reception desk and asked the girl with diamond earrings and impeccable makeup, looking almost invisible, “Excuse me, can you show me where the men's room is? May I use it? I just need to go there.”

She raised her eyebrows and said, “Well, certainly, second on the left down the hall.”

I sprinted down the corridor and burst into the toilet… Soon I was washing my hands under the golden tap, looking in the mirror, foiled with leaves of gold and reflecting the pink marble sink and all the gorgeous luxury of the men’s room, when I heard strange subdued sounds, resembling howls. Hastily I pressed the tap and rushed out of the toilet…

Flakes of ash flew into my face and my breath grew heavy in my lungs as the heat was unbearable… And then my legs became rooted to the ground because a wall of fire was raging in the conference room packed with the candidates! Frightened to death and howling with pain, they were darting past the fire, trying to flee the blazing arms of … the flame ghosts! Grabbing the candidates by their hair, they were pushing them away and then chasing again those darting youngsters, burning their heels, outpacing them…

Unable to move, in deep shock I observed those fiery creatures, their plasma-like faces with distorted violent traits, changing constantly as the fiery waves ran across their bodies and stripes of white, red and orange flames wrung into tight knots at their solar plexus, their beefy torsos – the extensions of the flames. I was in a dream… A fantastic, irrational scene…

The receptionist girls typed on their keyboards, staring at the faint blue glim of the monitors as if nothing was happening. Meanwhile, the candidates were breaking through the fire cordon, elbowing their way to the lobby door which was flanked with MAGI consultants who were throwing pink and yellow soap bubbles, the size of footballs, into the runaways.

One of the consultants, a blond athlete, noticed me and shouted, “Why on earth do you stand there like a frozen statue? Don’t you see we can’t cope with them?” I turned my eyes to him.

“Yeah, you! Come on, come on! Run over here and help us!”

Staggering, I approached him. The athlete hastily shouted instructions to me, “Seize an oblivion sphere and throw it at a runaway! One for each of them! Or they will tell the whole world that they were offered a job at the company, that uses magic in consulting, and that they rejected the offer!”

Tottering woozily on the spot, I snatched a passing bubble and… A fuzzy figure of miniaturized Mathew Johns rose out inside it. I held it to my face and heard him speak in a ghostly voice, “Your result is thirty two marks, while the passing rate is thirty six… You can apply to MAGI again next year…”

Scared, I dropped the sphere and it slightly hit one of the runaways in his head. And in the twinkling of an eye, the fellow broke from a gallop into a trot and reached the exit at a steady pace, though looking a bit depressed. I looked around and noticed that after the bubbles hit their heads, the candidates changed from darting to draggling themselves to the lifts with downcast faces. Well, I could only guess that the soap bubbles were some kind of brainwashing tool.

The blond athlete who had engaged me in this brain-wiping, tapped me on my shoulder, “You must have been one of the summer interns, kid? There were fewer cowards among your fellows. These autumn recruits are more similar to a bunch of snot sprogs than to future Wizards and Fays.” He abruptly turned to the side and cried out, “We’re done, Mathew!” and waved his hand to the Director who nodded in reply…

Everything was finished. The river of multi-coloured soap bubbles was flowing across the white floor, extinguishing the last flamelets. Celestine, his eyebrows and hair singed, was standing in the doors of the conference room with the most stupid expression. It seemed he still hadn’t realized what had happened.

Mathew put his heavy arm on his shoulders and said, looking at me for some reason, “Okay, guys, congratulations on making the right decision and passing the final test! I don’t doubt that joining the ranks of consultants is the start of your great careers at MAGI! I won’t go into detail, but you’re tough. Not being afraid of fiery beasts, that means a lot… Let me shake your hands, lads… Don’t forget that tomorrow you have a meeting with our HR, er, to sort the formalities out…”

The soap bubbles were soaring in the air and the receptionists were turning them into balloons with a wave of the hand. Soon the multitude of pink, golden and silver balloons were squeezing tightly beneath the ceiling and all around the hall. More and more consultants were arriving to the floor, clapping and shouting cheers. Soon, a celebration party was in full swing and Celestine and I were surrounded by a mob of people congratulating us. The din was deafening. From all sides wafted the names of our newly-acquired colleagues: “Colin”, “Isabelle”, “Ray”, “Timothy”! Guys were shaking hands with me and girls were patting me on my arm. Squeezed by the crowd, I stood on tiptoes and twisted my head round, looking for the Apollo-like guy who had helped me so much. But I could not see him.

Crystal glasses were hovering under the balloons and champagne sparkled inside them, frothing up and overflowing the glasses. Mathew raised his glass to us, and everyone shouted to us a triumphant “Cheers to the newcomers!”

 Chapter 4. Bilberry Queen  

A double-decker bus arrived at the bus stop near Wight Tower and people, dodging from the blasts of wind, streamed inside its warmth. The faces of the passengers were blurred by the rain, trickling down the glass windows, illuminated by the interior light. At last the bus left, leaving me again all alone at the stop. I had been sheltering from the wind behind the glass side of the bus shelter for already an hour, not knowing where to go and slowly freezing.

Cassandra must have confused the dates of the meeting with MAGI HR and, correspondingly, the question of the relocation allowance disbursement remained in the air as unsettled. Consequently right now I was facing a very tricky issue – where to go with five pounds in my pockets. The scenes flickered in my eyes – flick – a railway station, flick – a round-the-clock supermarket, flick – an internet cafe. I could not choose among the options or determine the best one and then the scenes again were flickering in my eyes. I had to spend the night somewhere, as tomorrow I would get the relocation allowance.

You will ask me, why haven’t I slipped off that madhouse which was concealing hind the golden letters of MAGI name? What were they? A secret sect of exotic fanatics and slick illusionists performing neat tricks in the astonished public eye? Or did they really know something beyond ordinary human consciousness? But in fact I didn’t care. I was in need of a job. And I got one. And whatever tricks they were inventing there, it was fine by me…

It was drizzling all the time, the staccato of the rain pattering the water in the puddles and the gusts of wind spilling the puddles from their borders. The dusk was advancing on steadily when a young lad in a grey hooded sweatshirt and a red baseball cap casting a thick shadow over his face, broke my solitude.

We were the only two at the bus shelter, the lad looking now and then at his watch, shifting from one foot to the other. After twenty minutes of waiting he muttered under his breath, “Why, the bus to Norchester must have been cancelled,” and went along the pavement. But then all of a sudden he turned around and said to me, “They have cancelled the last bus to Norchester. Do you have somewhere to go?”

I hesitated for a split second, deciding whether I could confide in the stranger. And then I mumbled, “I am out of money and I have no place to stay.” Then he waved his hand, as if ignoring all my troubles, and said, “You may stay at my house, come along.” And he strode on, showing the way. What should I do? Go with him? Or stay at the stop? His back was moving away. The point of no return soon would be reached… Before he turned round the corner I ran after him…

We walked down the wide street. The flaring neon boards of restaurants, pubs and boutiques glared in my eyes, overflowing the dull light of the streetlamps… Soon, we approached the city park. We passed the park entrance in the form of a white marble arch and the noises of the city faded. Shuffling ankle-deep through the withered leaves, we walked up a long and straight park alley, where bright yellow crowns of maples and pale green tops of oaks arched to shape a tunnel. The wind had gone, and in the utter silence, a bright yellow leaf slipped from a twig and slowly glided down. I watched its flight until it fell to the stones with a slight rustling. The wind returned, swaying the crowns of the trees, rippling the puddles. I looked at the alley – my guide’s back was already far from me, moving off, so I ran to catch up with him.

Brown trunks of fir trees, greenish with age, were rising along both sides of the alley. Their mossy and moist branches tangled, forming fantastic patterns. It seemed that if the trees parted to let us pass, we would behold the castle of Sleeping Beauty in the park’s depth.

While we were advancing, it grew darker and for some strange reason – warmer. The alley narrowed and changed to a country lane, overgrown with brambles that were fringed by brightly glowing dots –fireflies. In their light, I sighted ripe wild strawberries at a moss-grown lettuce glade. I bent forward to pick them and then I caught a glimpse of a smooth white-stone arch, twice the height of a man, standing some fifty yards away from me. The air near the arch rippled, the flashes of invisible flame playing on it, vanishing and appearing again as a reflection in the water. 

Taken aback, I turned to my companion and squeezed out in a husky voice, “What is this? Where have you brought me?” He turned to me, and in terror, I observed the rough wrinkled face of a very old man, wrapped in a hooded cloak, his long white hair and white beard hanging down below his waist and his bright eyes blazing under his hood. In a clear voice he replied, “I brought you to my home, to the wonderful country of Elfland, which gives shelter to those who have nowhere to go. The land of the lost, who once left their home and have never returned. The valley of joy, where there is no place for sorrow. Glance through the arch and you will see all with your own eyes…”

With rigid legs I approached the arch. What was its nature and structure? I put my head through and cautiously peeped in.

From the opposite side the arch was standing at a narrow ledge on top of a mountain ridge, near the narrow track, wandering steeply downwards to become untraceable in the distance. From this lookout point I had a magnificent view of a valley, laid out at the foot of the mountain.

The dark green velvet of the grass was spangled with millions of light green fireflies, glittering mysteriously in the utter silence. Amazed, I stared at the enchanting view and then, as if out of the air, human figures started popping up – one by one, in pairs, in groups, wrapped in grass-green cloaks and hoods and holding flaming torches. And soon there were hundreds of torches, and hundreds of fires had been lit by magic. Men were embracing and clapping each other on the backs as if they had not seen each other for ages. The maids threw off their hoods to let loose the waves of blond hair, which fell over their shoulders along their backs to the ground, bound round with circlets of golden leaves.

I noticed among them a maid of such great beauty that my breath was taken away. With dimples in her cheeks, and being so jolly, I at once got an overwhelming desire to touch them with my fingers; a pair of eyes as brilliantly green as water in a clear deep pool, edged by pines, shading and sheltering its green from the sun’s rays that pierce the pond water to the bottom; a smile being as sunny as the star of the most lovely day in a year; and the stature of the most graceful form I had ever seen. She was clad in a tunic of the purest white silk, edged with gold, and from a great flashing jewel in her brow sprung a bright clear jet of pink light. I called her “Greeneye”.

I made out that all the visitors of the valley were very young and of remarkable beauty. They were chatting and laughing merrily and drinking ale and honey, but all lapsed into silence when a very young man with majestic manners in a simple golden hoop, crossing the brow of his remarkably bright face, stood up from his place near the biggest fire, holding a golden harp in his arms.

When he touched the strings of the harp, the golden sounds streamed into the warm night air. Every creature – grass and trees, flowers and leaves, fireflies and butterflies, lads and maids - whirled round and round in the rings under the moonlight upon hearing the music. And then the Harper sang and the words of a song flooded into my soul:

 When the day equals night,

Yellow leaves fall and die,

Fire-flies dance in rings,

Blossoms Bilberry tip.

 Drink it every ten years,

And Eternity nears,

That who finds the Star of Pink,

Would become Elphyne King.

And the song had such a powerful appeal that I had already raised my foot to step through the arch, when Greeneye looked up straight into my eyes and though she was far in the valley, her voice whispered straight into my ear, “Robin, tomorrow at 8 a.m. you should sign the contract with MAGI in London!”

So unexpected it was that, taken aback, I lost my balance and fell on my back and hit it hard against the ground. The arch vanished. Pitch darkness covered everything, severe north wind swooped on, howling and shrieking and then, at once, dead silence fell. I brought my hand to my eyes and still I could not see it. I was in the deep wood all alone, my senses making out nothing.

Then, as if by magic, the rueful face of the moon showed from behind the clouds and bathed the whole scene in uncertain pallid light... I made out that I was standing in a country lane, bordered by dark mountainous silhouettes of the 100-year-old pines. The cloud obscured the moon’s doleful countenance. And the thick darkness came to reign again.

Were the pines drowsy or did they hide ill-will in their tangles? I was stunned by the silence. And when under the feeble breath of the wind a twig stirred, it rang in my ears. I heard the air, clean and cool… I heard the smell of pines…

I stood still, until my legs grew numb, pondering intensively on the issue of whether to go to the right or to the left… By sheer instinct I turned to the right and set off along the lane. In half a mile the lane turned to an alley, bordered with lampposts, set at equal intervals. Pines changed to firs, towering so close to each other that I could hardly discern anything behind their thick tangles.

Drip-drop. Several drops fell on my lips. It started to rain. Soon huge hail drops were beating hard and cold on my back. The wind raised. Its severe gusts made me halt and turn to it with my back in order to get my breath again. Standing under a lamppost I observed the light spot shift in a strange way at the ground under my feet. I looked up – this was not a lamppost!

Sometimes moments occur that are best forgotten in order that they don’t return in nightmares that would torment you over the rest of your lifetime. This was a moment of that particular kind… A Tyrannosaurus, fifteen feet tall, was sitting at his powerful hind legs, holding his touchingly short fore limbs in front of his chest. Stricken, I made out that instead of a massive head he had a little bright electric lamp, emitting the brightest white radiance. Paralyzed with shock, I stood there, rooted to the spot, and then I turned my neck – it was not the only one! the Tyrannosaurus wasn’t alone! I observed Tyrannosaurus lining up along the alley, their long necks arching above the pavestone, and their bulbed heads shining through the rain. Then, the Tyrannosaurus I was standing under, reared, and the only thing I remembered afterwards was that I ran…

I ran hard, and my yells mingled with the howls of the wind. And then the blizzard swept down upon me. It was the shower of ice needles, pouncing upon me. The snow, raised in waves by the icy blasts of the wind, was covering my bare arms below the short sleeves of my T-shirt. My arms grew numb. The wind was blinding, suffocating. Beaten by the storm, I staggered along the paving stones, trying to breathe. When I was nearly losing the force to move, all of a sudden the strangling gusts of the wind were gone and the snowflakes ceased falling.

I don’t remember for how long I wandered in the chill solitude, but at last the wood thinned out and through the gaps between the firs, approximately a hundred yards away, I made out the roadway! And then in front of my astonished eyes a bus glided by and halted at a stop…

I may confess I had never run so fast in my life, my head squeezed with fear… Fear? Up until that moment I had never known what fear was. But it was gulping my soul.

I remembered how once, returning home from my Granny, who lived in another town, I mistook the bus. My Mum, who was to meet me at the bus stop, waited for me in the darkness, freezing with each passing minute and going over in her mind, what had happened to me and that maybe I would never return home. Her eyes were slowly filling with tears because of her feebleness. Sharp talons of inconsolable despair were tearing at her heart, and still the hope that I would do everything right glimmered in her soul…

Miserable, lost, dispirited a minute ago, now I was breaking through the tangles in a sprint, a spark of hope igniting inside me, though suppressed by the ever-increasing gloom that I would miss this bus. I was swinging my arms and shouting, “Wait, wait!” And as if by a miracle, the bus did not start, but waited obediently for. When I jumped on the running board, the doors shut closed behind me and the bus set out.

It was a moment of pure happiness. When recovering my breath, I doubled over, clutching at the handrail near the driver. He nodded to me and I said, “I got lost in the park or in the wood, we are somewhere in the London suburbs, yeap? How much would it be to get to the Isle of Dogs?”

His eyes almost popped out of his head when he stared at me, “I can give you a lift to the madhouse that you have escaped from, lad – if you wish – but you’d better go and sleep a little. Next stop will be Dublin, in two hours, and we will be in London in the early morning. Take a tip and don’t drink so much while in Ireland."

Really feeling myself drunk, I staggered along the passage and collapsed into the armchair behind the driver…

[megers67]

A Little Reunion

Okay, this is a fic about my most recent OC, Yoshimi (whose bio you can read about here with additional trivia here). I wrote it mostly to get a feel for writing him and I think, on the whole, I still have some things to shake out, but I still really like this character so hopefully I get to do more with him in the future. There are a lot of writing mistakes because I wrote it late at night. But since it was written more to get a feel for character, I don'tcare enough to put in the effort to clean it up.

Anyway, this is just Yoshimi running into a former student of his and maybe a little impromptu crime stopping on the side.

—————

Funai Yoshimi really liked summer break. For as much as he liked teaching and looking after his kids, he liked the breather that usually came with it. The summer was a longer break so most students went home for a much longer period of time rather than stay at the dorms. That meant that he had the place to himself for a good chunk of the break and that he had the time to just relax. For Yoshimi, that meant walking the nearby town and getting some reading done with some people-watching on the side. It was nice seeing the thriving life of people going about their daily business.

With that in mind, he found himself getting a coffee at a small bakery on his way to one of the larger parks when he spotted a familiar face. One of his former students was sitting at one of the outdoor tables at the corner of the property. She had been one of his brighter students a few years ago so he was already proud that he saw that she was in a police uniform.

While the young woman was distracted by her phone, Yoshimi walked over and tapped his cane on the leg of her chair to get her attention. “Hope you’re not on that thing while you’re on duty, Kiddo.” He distinctly remember having to be on her case all the time about her phone when she was his student.

Takei Ayumi blinked in surprise then looked up, already beaming since she recognized the voice. “Mr. Funai!” She stood to give him a big hug, which he returned as best he could with one hand on his cane, the other holding a large latte, and carrying a book under his arm. “Wait, is this how you dress when you’re not at school?”

“In the summer, yeah.” Yoshimi’s students usually saw him in a business casual brown suit, complete with a sweater vest and a tie. Right now however, he was in vacation mode. Socks and sandals, khaki shorts, and a loud shirt that had a pair of sunglasses tucked into the collar. Even his hair was different as his long hair wasn’t in the usual plain ponytail but had flowers braided into it. He even was careful to keep the strands of his grey streak together.

Takei gestured to a spare chair. “Sit! I’m on break so I have time to catch up!”

There was no way that Yoshimi would refuse, so he took a seat with his back to the corner so he could see the rest of the cafe then propped his cane against the table. “Are you enjoying police work?”

“Well, I only just made it through training so I’m still pretty new with all of it. I like it so far though! They assigned me a partner who has been on the force for about ten years so he’s showing me the ropes.”

The teacher took a nice long sip of his coffee. “Still going for detective? I know you talked about it a lot in your last semester with me.”

“Yeah! I still have several years of experience and as an officer and additional training to get through, but I’m on track. The Chief said that my quirk will come in handy so I might be able to assist in investigations early!”

“That’s great! How’s your quirk control?” Takei was one of those cases who had a quirk that wasn’t destructive or dangerous in any way, but very easily overwhelming. When she touched an object, she could automatically see the past 12 hours that object went through. It’s pretty much impossible to not be touching things at any point in time so it had taken a lot of work. Yoshimi, with support from the school got an old buddy of his from his hero days to make a bodysuit and gloves for her woven with the girl’s genetic material. This made it practically invisible to her quirk. Wearing it under her clothes meant there was a buffer between her and anything she could come into contact with. Whenever she did want to use her quirk, she could easily remove the gloves. That was the kind of assistance that going to Saisei could provide that the average person may not be privy to. Such support items were expensive, but were crucial for some just to live a normal life.

The woman held up her hands showing that she was still wearing her gloves. “Still going strong. I’m mostly working on extending the scope of it. I know you were working with me on the timing, stopping, starting, forward, backward, and the speed going through it, but now I’m working on my visual and audio range. If I can consistently get to a meter, I think that would be really amazing. Still got a long way to go on that front. Let me see your cane.”

Without question, he handed it over. Takei took off one of her gloves and clutched it. Her eyes glazed over as she began to rewind the last 12 hours. Yoshimi could tell she was just speeding through and not really looking judging by how quickly her eyes seemed to be moving. However, the officer’s expression changed, as if her curiosity was piqued and slowed down. After a moment or two, she chuckled and let go of the cane.

“Sensei, who was that guy on the train?”

“Some asshole who decided that he absolutely deserved a seat despite the fact that it was a full train and everyone who was sitting had a disability of some kind. I was even ready to accept that he had an invisible one, but he made sure to let everyone on that train know that he wasn’t, in his words, a cripple.”

“So you smashed his foot with your cane?”

The man just shrugged. “He seemed determined to need a reason to need a seat, so I gave him one.”

“Technically…. I could pursue assault charges for that. However, it wasn’t reported by anyone and neither I nor another officer witnessed it when it happened so I’ll just let you off with a warning this time, Sir. Just don’t do that again.”

“Duly noted, Officer.” Yoshimi gave a salute for good measure as his grin widened. He took his cane back and propped it against the table once more. Yeah, she was going to be just fine.

He saw another police officer coming up to them with a tray that had a couple of pastries and two coffees on it. The officer was younger than the teacher, likely in his early 30s. “Takei, who is this?”

“Sir, this is one of my teachers from Saisei! Funai Yoshimi.” She then introduced the other man to her former teacher. “Sensei, this is my partner, Okura Kosuke. He’s showing me the ropes now that I’m on the force.”

The two men shook hands as Okura took a seat. “So, Mr. Funai, what did you teach?”

“I’m a freestyle dance teacher,” Yoshimi replied with the unshakeable confidence. While the other man was utterly confused, Takei looked on in abject horror. She was hoping beyond hope that it would end there.

It did not. The teacher felt he hadn’t mortified his former student enough so he decided to flail his arms, making sure to bop his head to imaginary music as he did so for a full minute. It was… it was pretty bad.

After a few beats, Okura started laughing. Hard. There were tears and everything. “You, I like you,”  he managed after he regained his breath. “I need to remember that for when my son gets older!”

“The effect would be better if I was standing and my back would let me. Also, it’s good to throw in either a really old and outdated move or one that is really current and popular with the kids. Never fails.” To emphasize his point, Yoshimi gestured to Takei who was holding her beet-red face in her hands, looking like she wanted to melt into the table.

“But I’m not even at Saisei anymore!” It technically wasn’t a whine, but the sentiment was similar.

The teacher pat her on the shoulder sympathetically, but still had a shit-eating grin. “Sorry, once you’re one of my Kiddos, you’ll always be a Kiddo. You could probably start a support group about that.” It wasn’t the first time he embarrassed a former student and absolutely won’t be the last. That’s a pleasure he plans on taking to his grave. “You should have seen Tajima’s face when I was in his family’s bookstore!”

Yoshimi paused to take a moment to triumphantly drink from his coffee, during which time the police officers settled. Takei seemed desperate to change the subject. “How’s Junichi doing, Sensei?”

The man winced for a moment. “Unfortunately he passed a year ago.”

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright. It was hard for a while, but I knew from the beginning that he wasn’t going to have a long life, so I was prepared for it. At least he had a nice life. He loved his ball and climbing through my clothes. When it was getting to the end I was spoiling him a bit and gave him small amounts of dog food as treats.”

Okura spoke up for the first time in a bit. “Dog food?”

“My preferred pets are rats. Anyway, I’ve got Kamiko now and she’s the sweetest little girl but she really has a bit of a chewing problem. Want to see pictures?”

As he was pulling out his phone, he noticed a figure racing past behind him from the direction of the blind corner. Since he was a retired pro hero, he instinctively looked at his watch. You know… just in case something came of it. He had a gut feeling about these kinds of things. When the figure reached the intersection, Yoshimi and the officers heard someone yelling about a thief further back. It didn’t take a genius to piece those pieces of information together. The officers reacted quickly, but because they were delayed in getting the information, the suspect was already across the street and rapidly disappearing from sight. Potential movement quirk. After about 30 seconds, Yoshimi could tell that the officers had lost the chase. 30 more seconds later they began walking back to the cafe.

Alright, he’s seen enough. His quirk allowed him to travel back to where he was 90 seconds in the past. It wasn’t a grand amount of time, but more than enough to get a second shot at an event that just occurred.

Flash back!

“-should have seen Tajima’s face when-” The man stopped mid-sentence to give himself a second to adjust, blinking his eyes rapidly. Jumping back could be kind of disorienting and typically made him at least slightly nauseous. However, he’s done this sort of thing countless times before and was more than capable of handling it. Looking at his watch, he saw that he’d jumped back to approximately 30 seconds before the figure first appeared.

Takei, as a former student of his, recognized the signs that he used his quirk. “Sensei?” She began looking around to find a potential reason for the older man to have jumped back.

“You have your handcuffs on you right?”

Right, so whatever happened, it involved a criminal of some sort. That was all she needed to get her to stand. “Any quirks, Sensei?”

“Possibly a movement quirk, but undetermined.”

Okura, for his part, didn’t really know what was going on, but was experienced enough to read the change the tone had taken. He stood up as well.

Yoshimi checked his watch. “Okay Kiddo, ready up in five, four…” the rest of the countdown came in the form of silent head nods. Just as he reached one, he jutted his cane out behind him with the perfect timing to trip the suspect and send him sprawling. The officers were on him in half a heartbeat. Since the criminal had been turning a blind corner, Yoshimi timed it perfectly, and the police on the scene were already prepared, the guy never had a chance in hell. There was a struggle, but nothing that posed much of a challenge. The shopkeep that accused the young man was able to catch up to give their official statement.

During the fallout, the teacher caught the eye of his former student. She shrugged apologetically with her hands full. This was going to take a while and they likely won’t be able to continue their conversation. Yoshimi nodded his head and raised his coffee in both an understanding and a goodbye before collecting his things to resume his original plans for the day. They’ll run into each other again, he was sure of it.

[mattness]

Space Dementia

Sorry for the long wait! Another chapter of fanfic “Space Dementia” is here! 

Chapter VIII.

Jennifer snorted, looking at his own reflection in the mirror: she wore to a meeting with Robert short white dress that perfectly emphasized her figure. Jen scolded herself for what she wanted to show herself in the best possible way. She thought many times what to wear and the options are constantly changing from the simple (jeans and tee) to the most sophisticated (the dress with some jewelry). In the end, Wright stopped at a light close-fitting dress with sleeves. The girl put make-up eyelashes and highlighted her lips with red lipstick, and her hair slightly curled.

Something inside suggested that Robert is unlikely to pay attention to her appearance. Still this meeting even a date really can't be called. Who makes dates in broad daylight? Jennifer put on black heels and several times twisted in front of the mirror. Now she was ready. Taking beige bag, Wright came out of the house. The weather was perfect. The sun shone high in the sky, and a pleasant warm wind refreshed thoughts. Birds sang loudly, lifting mood. Jen covered a short distance to the station, where another tram. The orange-and-white train slowed down, and she immediately sat down on an empty seat. Outside the window of the tram swept the streets of the city. Multi-colored cars replaced each other, people hurried about their business, despite the fact that today was a day off. The girl again began to compare the metropolis and Derry, where on Sunday, on the streets there was no one to meet, while going to the grocery store. Everyone's left Derry for other cities in Maine for the weekend. Finally the train stopped at the desired station, and from there to the restaurant was on the doorstep. The girl jumped out of the train and walked quickly to the restaurant, a sign which even in the light of day was shining brightly. Jen sighed and walked into the room, gaze searching for Grey. Noticing the familiar frown on your face, snub nose buried in the screen of the phone, she resolutely went to the table. "Hi", said Jen, and Robert immediately got distracted from the phone. He carefully examined her appearance, smiling and rising. Unlike her, Grey looked too simple. Long black jacket, under which was a white t-shirt, and blue jeans. Wright was surprised that he wasn't in the perfect expensive suit. Although she didn't doubt that the clothes on him certainly from well-known brands that not everyone can afford. "You look great, Jen", said the man, and politely helped her sit down, gallantly pushing out her chair. The girl smiled sheepishly. He put the phone in his jeans pocket and put his hands in the lock on the table, continuing to look at Jennifer. She felt like every second blushed all the more from studying the green eyes opposite. "When are you leaving?" first of all asked Wright, touching her hair. "Tomorrow. Flight at five in the morning", quietly said Robert, taking the menu and studying the list of dishes. "If you want and if you get up, you can come to the airport and walk me. I wouldn't mind." "I guess I can't", the girl confessed honestly. "Where are you going?" "To Pennsylvania. First to Philadelphia, and then to other cities by car." Jen smiled sadly, suddenly remembering how she lived in Philadelphia until fifteen years of age. Moving from his hometown to another very much influenced her future life. Robert carefully examined the face of Jennifer, which displayed all the emotions and feelings that she was experiencing at the moment. Blue eyes couldn't stay on one thing. Memories about Philadelphia he immediately saw, now knowing, as girl lived, as only came in this world. "In Philadelphia so beautiful", she said quietly, and too, took menu. "I know. I have a house there." "So you're coming home?" "Not really." They don't talked about Robert's trip again. At dinner she decided to tell him a little about yourself, and Grey listened with pleasure all that already knew. It was interesting because some of the details Jen didn't say. But he knew everything. All people did so to create a good impression of themselves, hiding their own flaws and shortcomings. And Robert never understood the meaning of this secrecy. Because no matter how much he watched people who began to spend more time together, and then also began to live together, all these shortcomings gradually surfaced. For some reason, they immediately found out the relationship, quarreled, thinking that they no longer trust each other.   After the stories of Jen, followed by a logical question that Grey didn't know what to say. His story always had to invent. This time Robert Grey was a rich orphan with living parents who left him to fend for himself when he was seven years old. He left to live with his grandmother, which can be evaluated as "fabulously rich". A woman in her life earned a lot of money working in a large company, the name of which he didn't even bother to come up with. In general, it didn't really matter in the twenty-first century. It was worth someone to say that you are the owner of a large company and go to Aston Martin'e, as all around immediately became so sociable and friendly. It always has been. People for him were too hypocritical, and that's why he never wanted to make friends. The absence of these same friends, he explained to Jen that few trusts. So now he almost no one not spoke about his able. The girl smiled, remembering that as soon as they met, he immediately blabbed about it. "I only told you because you're different." Robert noticed how Jennifer's face changed, once again flushed, and her heart skipped a beat. She quickly understood what he meant. Grey found himself happier than ever. Everything followed his evil plan. True, at first the plan didn't include falling in love girl every time they met, and it was manifested more and more. To his same happiness, she was too modest and not come around until nor on that, except timid kissing. Now that he had to get out of New York as quickly as possible, Rob was sure that all the feelings that had been born in her would soon pass. She'll forget about him again, try to switch to work or her friends, because his departure will cause her only pain. Oh, yeah, and the pain she felt right now, though not so clearly. But Robert could smell it scent. Finally, they finished their meal, and Robert paid for the meal. He went to the exit of the restaurant with Jen, but suddenly on the TV screen, which was located under the ceiling of the bar, the news began. Grey frowned, hearing the announcer move from political to criminal news. Jennifer noticed that, too. "To the number of missing people added three more. Also recently, police found a corpse at the corner of Water and Pearl-street”, the announcer reported in a serious tone. "The identity is not yet established. We only know he's a man of 40-55 years without a certain residence." The girl frowned, remembering what the man who had attacked her looked like, and Robert, meanwhile, was well aware of how bad his affairs were. A little more — and the cops will still be able to find his carefully concealed trace, but Grey didn't want to be behind bars for the third time. In prison there was nothing useful and good, only vital time is wasted. "Okay, let's go", Robert hurried, holding out Jen's beige bag. "Don't listen bad news." Jen nodded and went outside with him. Robert offered to take his hand, and the brunette gently squeezed his palm. They headed along the road, deciding to go to the nearest Park. The weather is still held good that could not fail to please Jennifer. "By the way, you didn't say where you came from to the hotel in Orono", Robert suddenly remembered, when they were walking slowly along the green alley of the park. "From Derry. My father and I moved there as soon as I graduated from Columbia", the girl said with a sad sigh. "To be honest, I didn't want to go back there." "Why? Nice town", Grey smiled. "You been there?" surprised brunette. "I have, more than once." A couple sat on a free bench near the pond. Jen watched as the ducks swam away from the shore, away from the people. "You don't like it there, I take it", the man chuckled, placing his hand on the back of the bench behind the girl, who shook her head in response. "Why?" "In the ten years I spent in New York, I got used to the rhythm of the big city. I'm used to nobody knowing anybody here. Nobody cares about you and your problems, because they're just your problems. They don't touch anyone, and no one weaves about you stupid gossip", explained Jennifer, tired sigh and decided to arrange her head on the shoulder of Robert. "Derry's too small. Everyone knows each other. And the atmosphere there is very ... repulsive." Grey found himself chuckling again as he looked at her. "What? I'm only giving my opinion, and I don't mind if you like Derry. I'll just never understand it. I can't understand my father wanted to move there." "You bought a house in Derry?" "No. It belonged to my grandmother, whom I visited every summer." Suddenly Robert remembered one of the years he had spent there. Of course, he was there many times and not only in the form of an ordinary rich orphan boy, but also in the form of a clown. For a century, he posed as the dancing clown Pennywise and stole the foolish children, feeding on their fears and flesh. But then he got tired of this circus, it was worth once to get caught by police. The guards didn't manage to keep him locked up for long. He quickly ran away and continued to frighten the children. He couldn't get close to one little girl who was always hanging around with her grandmother. Only once he did get a chance. She was swinging on the swing and happened to notice where he was standing. He mentally began to call her, wanting her to come closer. But the little one wasn't a fool and ran to ask permission from her old woman before going to the clown. Then Pennywise was seriously angry and decided to attack someone else, leaving this ungrateful in peace. Only now, sitting next to Jennifer, Robert realized that this little girl was her. How couldn't he have guessed? Why didn't he go back to her childhood memories? After all, he had studied her too superficially, which now infuriated him a little. Grey tried to keep his emotions under control, just squeezing his fingers on the back of the bench harder. Now he seemed to be beginning to realize the reason why something inside him was drawn to her. It was just a long-forgotten hunger that he felt for Jen in her childhood. But Robert didn't realize how wrong he was. * * *   The clock stopped at four in the evening, and Jennifer suggested to Grey walk to the waterfront, where there was a beautiful view of the city and the sunset. The man nodded silently in response, and they slowly headed in the right direction. Jen carefully walked on the pavement, afraid to stumble and break the delicate heels. The sun hate blinded eyes, and because of this had to squint. She looked at Grey walking beside her, who was already wearing sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. He was clearly better prepared for the walk than she was. "Where do you go after Pennsylvania?" Wright asked, picking up the bag, which was already heavy to carry on her shoulder. The embankment was only a few meters away, so the couple moved to a walking step. Jennifer breathed fresh air into her lungs. On the embankment lovers, families, dog breeders and athletes also walked. Through the crowns of green trees penetrated the sun's rays, the wind blew pleasantly in the face and relaxed. "I haven't decided yet", Robert shrugged back, glancing at her. "Do you want to meet again?" She smiled sheepishly, walking slowly to the railing. Jennifer leaned on them, peering into the distance. Of course, Wright wanted to see Grey again. She still felt indebted to him. Maybe something could come out of it. Jen hoped Robert felt the same way. The sun gradually began to sink below the horizon, painting the whole sky in red shades. Numerous skyscrapers of New York reflected the sunset rays, making the landscape more impressive. Jennifer watched the sun with fascination, as did Robert, who stopped beside her. He glanced briefly at her hand. Without thinking, the man confidently covered Wright's hand. The girl smiled, feeling like such a minor action on the body a wave of pleasant chills. "I'm going to miss you, Robert", Jennifer suddenly confessed after a few seconds of silence. "Me, too", wasn't very convincing, making Grey mentally cursed. "You'll not notice how time flies, and we'll meet again." The brunette sadly smiled, fully turning to him. Robert, still clutching her hand in his, leaned toward Jen's face. He covered her plump lips with a gentle kiss, and a pleasant cherry taste suddenly gave in his mouth. The girl responded to the kiss, feeling dizzy from blissful oblivion. Robert heard vulgar thoughts have already begun to visit drugged mind Jennifer. Her other hand touched his neck, and it's a fleeting touch of pleasure seared his skin. He didn't understand why the little kiss had caused a storm of emotions inside him. Why he didn't want to stop? He was beginning to dislike it. Robert seemed to lose control of his mind, so he reluctantly pulled away from Jen, who sighed in frustration. Grey was surprised to see the pupils of the blue eyes widen and the view become blurred. Her red lips parted in a pleased smile, and Robert smiled back. Jennifer suddenly burst out laughing, which caused gray's true bewilderment. "You imprinted my lipstick", continuing to laugh, she said, and immediately began to rummage through the bag in search of pack of wet wipes. Robert watched as the brunette fished out a napkin and began to wipe the red marks around his mouth. She did it with such care that for a moment the man felt uneasy. Somewhere deep within awake long-sleeping conscience, and begged to be left alive creature, standing across him. However, Robert quickly calmed it down, not wanting to obey a fleeting impulse. As soon as the sun finally disappeared behind the horizon, Grey decided to take Jennifer to the hotel. He took off his glasses from the bridge of his nose and put them in his pocket while the girl was on the phone with a friend who suddenly called. Jen tried to get off as quickly as possible, because that same friend was ruining the whole date. Robert burst out laughing when Wright finally put the phone in her bag and smiled guiltily. "Never give me peace", the girl snorted, taking his hand. "I thought you told them all about me, going for a walk with me and all", Grey grinned, noticing how she had blushed once again that evening. "Yes, of course... I'm pretty brief tall about everything, and it's very upsetting them. But since it's only my life, I don't have to answer to them for every action I take." He burst out laughing again, and for the next half hour they chose not to talk about Jen's friends. The girl was happy to tell stories from the University, told about something that suddenly came to mind that Robert was not bored. Grey listened carefully, sometimes noticing the strange glint in her blue eyes. The man looked with interest and thought that he was right: inside Jennifer Wright slept something bad and, in a sense, the devil. Robert didn't notice how quickly they approached the building where the hotel was located. Jennifer looked at the entrance and turned to the man. "Thank you for today's meeting", Wright smiled and thanked him. "I wouldn't mind repeating it", Robert said and took a step to her. "Only when you return", the girl said, looking down in embarrassment. Grey reached for her kiss again, but Jennifer put her hand to his lips at the last moment. The man raised his eyebrows in surprise, not understanding what was wrong. Did he do something wrong? After all, judging by the thoughts of little Jenni for the whole day, everything was going just like clockwork, and another kiss was to finally appease her. "I don't want to get you dirty", Wright explained, and Robert just snorted in discontent. She put her arms around his neck, pressing her whole body against him and inhaling the pleasant aroma of expensive cologne. Grey was taken aback, but then lowered the hands on fragile waist. The girl sighed, feeling like every minute was becoming increasingly difficult to break away from the person who so suddenly appeared in her life. She drew back reluctantly and smiled tightly, pursing her lips. "Bye", Jen said goodbye, letting go of his hand and starting to climb the steps to the hotel. "See you around, Jennifer", left behind Robert, watching as she had already disappeared behind the revolving glass doors. * * *   The girl tried to immerse himself in work after Robert flew out from New York. He didn't promise to call or write her, so Jen didn't expect any continuation of their nascent feelings. On the other hand, it was better for her. Maybe for him, too. Now, already working for the second month in a women's magazine, Jennifer still tried to keep the bar high to get a promotion and a good recommendation. Mrs. Johnson praised and appreciated her dedication. The days passed one after another, and Jen looked with surprise at Katie, who brought a note from her boss. Unwrapping the crumpled piece of paper, she smiled: Mrs. Johnson strongly recommended that Wright take a two-week vacation. The brunette agreed with pleasure, because the desire to go to his father recently became huge. They hadn't seen each other long enough, and Jennifer missed them too much. As soon as the vacation began, the girl immediately Packed a small suitcase and warned her friends, took tickets for the first flight to Bangor. The plane cut through the broad wings of the veil of clouds, which hid the city States. The girl hoped that the good weather will continue until the end of the flight. She wanted to come to Derry and find the sun in the clouds or in the cloudless sky. Wright sighed and put in her earphones, closing her eyes and sinking into a light slumber. Sleep was not long in coming… * * * ...She was once again in the middle of the hospital corridor with many doors that were locked. This time there was a light everywhere, and there was a working noise: the footsteps of doctors, the squeak of hospital equipment and a lot of talk. A strange excitement with the experiences of the possessed girl, and eye was dimmed with tears. The feeling that Jen was losing touch with a loved one painfully squeezed everything inside to the smallest size. She's heart was bleeding. The headache made her grab hair and literally scream. Jennifer didn't understand. She didn't understand what was happening around her, where she was, and why she felt so terrible. The brunette squatted down in the middle of the corridor, wanting to fall through the ground so that no one could see her. Jen has to get out of here before it's too late. "Miss Wright, are you all right?"the doctor's stern voice was heard, and the girl rose to her feet. "How is he?" it came out of her mouth, though Jen had no idea who it was. "Will live. We support his condition", assured the doctor in round glasses, occasionally looking into his clipboard that he held in his hands. The girl nodded and sat down on a bench near the wall. She again grabbed his head, trying to figure out how to get out of this nightmare. Feelings overwhelmed her. Now wanted to run away from herself, but nothing can be done. The body during sleep didn't obey, and feet became wadded. Jennifer tried to catch her breath until she heard the sound of someone's measured steps. They were approaching her, and the man who had appeared in the corridor stopped in front of her. "Jennifer", a familiar voice called softly. That voice, thought the girl and looked up. In front of her on his haunches sat Robert Grey, who sadly smiled. He looked good as usual: black trousers and a dark blue shirt with a tie. It was as if he had come straight from the office of his own company at Jen's first call. "I don't understand anything", the brunette finally managed to voice her thoughts, immediately falling into a strong embrace. "What's going on here?" "I know this is hard for you to accept", Grey said, stroking her back. "Everything will be fine." Jennifer frowned, still not understanding what was happening at the moment. She stared in surprise at the man, whose eyes suddenly turned bright orange. Strange white spots began to appear on his face. Brown hair began to get red shade on the lips Robert had a wild smile. In the hospital corridor the lights suddenly went out and was replaced by red. That ominous red again! With one sharp jerk, Grey forced Jen to her feet. "I don't understand", the brunette repeated. "Should you? I just want to play with you, Jenni", the man said, and red stripes of stage makeup began to appear on his face. It made him look ten times crazier. "To play?!" Jennifer was puzzled, trying to escape, but Robert's hands, on the fingers of which appeared sharp long claws, plunged directly into her skin. An unbearable pain gripped her whole body, blood ran down her arms, and the girl only clenched her teeth, still desperately trying to give a logical explanation for what was happening. Grey pulled her to him and breathed in the smell of Jen's mixed feelings. That's not what he needs. She didn't feel fear. She was trying to explain. Damn girl! "My sweet", the man continued, leaning over the brunette's face, "I want to eat you so much." Instead of a fear, Jennifer was embarrassed. Cheeks reddened, and excitement pleasant waves began to disperse around her body. Robert felt it, and now he don't know what the hell he did wrong. Why did the admission of his true intentions cause her such a strange reaction? What's wrong with this crazy woman? Did the long absence of relationship with the opposite sex so affect her? Grey cursed and pulled her to him, biting her lips with a passionate kiss. The girl groaned under the pressure and only Robert dutifully replied. The feeling of being sucked out of her life force began to constrain every movement. Warm blood filled her mouth and a thin stream began to flow down the chin. She felt he was killing her. Ruthlessly tearing from the inside out, causing terrible pain. Jennifer wanted to push him away, but she didn't have the strength. The pain was mixed with excitement, giving the whole thing some masochistic effect. Never before had the girl experienced such. Something broke inside and a loud siren filled the corridor. "What did you just do to me?!" cried from the horror of Jen, looking at Robert, who was now for some reason, the image of a clown. "I showed you what will happen to you. Very soon." He laughed out loud in the hospital corridor. The girl watched in horror behind him until, until he disappeared. Wiping the blood from her chin, Jen ran to find a way out. But there was no way out. * * *  Jennifer woke up from her own dream, screaming. Cold perspiration stood on her face, and her hands trembled treacherously. The flight attendant that was so close in time, had already stretched her a glass of water and a sedative pill. Without thinking, Jen drank the medicine, draining the glass completely. "You're all right, miss?" the stewardess asked anxiously. "Probably", the brunette answered, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "I was afraid you wouldn't wake up. But, fortunately, all went well", tried to encourage the employee of the aircraft. "We'll be landing in fifteen minutes, so fasten your seat belt and try to relax." The girl nodded and complied. Glancing out the window, Jen could see the outline of Bangor through the clouds. She frowned, trying not to attach any importance to the stupid dream. But it was so real that familiar taste left on the lips and in the mouth it was filled with blood. Jen licked her lips, instantly remembering kissing with Robert. God, did she miss him so much? No way! Obviously something is wrong with him, but the girl could not understand what. Why did this asshole continue to sit in her head even after almost a month since their last meeting? Jen couldn't explain it. Maybe a vacation in Derry and spending time with his father will help to forget him completely? Jennifer really hoped that talking to dad would help distract her.

[onehighlight9-blog]

The night I felt like me

I shaved my legs today, my torso too. Took a long warm shower, grabbed my sharpest razor blade and removed as much hair as I could. It was hard because I couldn’t see all of it, so I couldn’t see if it was gone or not. As I went over my legs while a shower of warm water falls on my back, the razor blade got duller and duller. It started squeaking which means I needed a new one. I opened the shower door, stepped out onto the cold floor and walked towards the cabinet containing my toiletries. I searched through the cabinet, moving my toothbrush and cups out of the way, grabbed a bag which held the blades and took a new one out. Quickly I jumped back into the shower, so I could continue my work. I started down below, working my way upwards. My waist, belly, upper torso and armpits all got thoroughly checked for any hair which then got removed as close to the skin as possible. Some hair on my arms would be alright I thought, so I put aside the blade and grab the shower gel and creams. I wash my hair three times over, each time grabbing more shower gel and going through them with my hands buried deep beneath my hair. Next up was the rest of my body. I used lavender shampoo, purely for the smell. After this I grabbed the cream of which the bottle said it would soften my skin. That’s what I wanted. I went over my body using the cream twice, trying to make sure my skin felt fresh and soft. My recently shaved body felt great. I could feel my arms going over my body which now was incredibly soft.

I stepped out of the shower and looked into the mirror, scanning my body from the bottom all the way to the top. Any spots of hair I could notice got removed immediately. I looked at my head. I couldn’t remove the hair on my head, I thought. People would think something is wrong with me. No matter how much I hated it I simply couldn’t touch it without consequences. So, I got to dressing myself. I picked out a brown pantyhose, a black mini skirt, a blue bra, a white sleeveless button up shirt and a light gray cardigan from the room next to the house owner. After grabbing my stuff, I went back to my room and booted up my laptop on my desk. After watching some TED talks I started to feel my migraine again. I took some painkillers and sat down on my bed. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep, right then and there, in my clothes, on bed.

Once I woke up I got messaged by my girlfriend who wanted to call for a bit. Sure, I said. She told me about her day and I told her about my day. We got to talking about when I could visit her again because it has been a month since she moved to the other side of the continent. It ended up being a heated discussion. I didn’t find a cheap flight and everything in the upcoming month would be too expensive for me as a 22-year-old student. I sent her a screenshot of what the best flight might be, and we agreed it might be best to wait a bit longer, so it would be more affordable. After that she asked me something I didn’t expect. She asked me what I’ve been looking up online. She got the idea from the title of a tab which was visible on the screenshot. I quickly fabricated an excuse which didn’t make sense at all. I didn’t want to talk about it with her. It was something I’m struggling with and I know out of experience she won’t be able to make me feel better right now. The call ended shortly after that and I started looking for a movie to watch.

I couldn’t find anything I wanted to do as I was searching the web, sitting on my bed in the clothes I put on after my shower. All of the sudden a crazy thought came into my head. I got this sudden urge to sneak outside and go for a very short walk. It’s insane, I thought. By now it was half past midnight and all kinds of things worried me. What if somebody sees me? What if people notice me sneaking out? What if people notice me sneaking back inside and upstairs? I couldn’t keep asking these questions to myself because I realized this is exactly what is keeping me from figuring out what is going on in my head. I got up, grabbed my keys and my phone, opened my door and started my way downstairs. I remember there being some not too high heels in the living room, one floor down. So, I start making my way there. I move my feet as slow as I could and tried to make as little noise as possible. I refrained from using my phone for light too because people might notice. I managed to get to the living room and understood I wasn’t supposed to be in here. I looked around, but the heels were nowhere to be found. To me this was a big bummer, because I really wanted to go outside, in some heels. I put on my sneakers, tied them up and decided to continue downwards. I sneaked past some rooms where I could hear the guy inside snoring and made my way towards the door which would take me outside. This door is known for being a bit squeaky, so I tried to open it as slow as I could, preventing it from making any noise at all. I stepped outside and quickly jumped off the pebbles and onto the grass. I walked towards the gate and opened it. There was no grass here anymore, and people might look out of their window and see me. So, I decided to make a quiet run for it. As light and fast as I could I moved over the pebbles towards the road and hid behind a bush, blocking me from view. I got out.

I felt relieved. I am outside, free to go where I wanted. The first thing I felt was surprise. The pantyhose kept my legs warm and the cardigan managed to keep the rest warm. I didn’t need a coat at all. I started walking down the road, keeping my arms crossed over my body. In the distance there were some noises in a bush. This frightened me. What if there is some person in there who sees me. What will they think if they see somebody with a makeshift feminine walk wearing these clothes at this hour out here on the road? I pushed on, keeping a close eye on the bushes. The noise didn’t come from a creepy person hiding though, it was a small dog who was curious as to what was happening out here on the road. With nothing holding me back anymore, no fear or cold, I set out and continued my journey around the block. I never felt so free in my entire life. This was the walk of a lifetime for me. I felt like this was exactly how I should feel. I felt free, happy, beautiful and euphoric. When I got back to the house I didn’t want this experience to end and decided I will do another round, following a different path. I walked through a park and as I stepped into the light of a nearby lamppost everything changed for me. These feelings I was experiencing weren’t just an experience anymore. They crept into me and changed who I was inside of my head. My thoughts ran wild as I walked through the park and soon I came across a little playground with some benches. Once I saw the benches I felt like I had to go to them, sit down and cross my legs. I wanted to pretend everything was normal. I did it. I went there, sat down in the middle of the bench overlooking the dimly lit playground and crossed my legs. I looked around and I couldn’t believe it. I was seeing people, children, running around. They were playing and talking with each other. One got hurt and started crying as he ran to his parents. A small girl found something in the sand and ran towards me, looking at the stone she found. She looked up to me in the broad daylight and said “Mom, look what I’ve found!”. It went dark again. The only things I could see were the things the few lampposts placed in this park were lighting up. The rest was all covered in a mixture of the darkness of the night and the light of a full moon shining down to earth. There was nobody here. I was alone.

I stood up again, pulled a bit at my skirt to get it to look normal again, and continued my walk. On the other side of the park I took a turn and ended up in a nice neighborhood full of small houses. Next to the road there were trees and small patches of grass. I walked down the road and looked around, imagining how life would be here during a warm summer day. As I looked around I lost myself again. I wanted to live there, and I wanted to drive that mini cooper, which stood parked in front of a house. I wanted to come home to the house I saw in the distance, where a small night lamp was on in what looked like a kid’s bedroom. I wanted to enter my future house and see my spouse and young child having fun together. I want to see them drop it all and come running towards me to give me a hug and a kiss after which we all get started on making dinner together.

But I couldn’t, could I? I didn’t have enough money to make my dreams come true. People here don’t like talking about these thoughts I have flying around in my head. I push myself forward, telling myself I should enjoy it here and now, when there is nobody around to judge me or say that I’m weird. As I kept walking I kept imagining all kinds of scenarios in which I would finally be that what I wanted. I got back to the house in which I rented a room. I sneaked back upstairs and as I close the door I feel the joy I felt this entire night one last time. I pulled it off. I went for that walk which I felt I needed, and I liberated my mind. It all became so much clearer to me what I was feeling. I got undressed and put on my snoopy pajama pants and a gray top. After grabbing my laptop from my desk, I fell onto my bed and decided I should write this story. It will help me remember what I felt, and it might even make people understand what’s going on in my head, even though I highly doubt people will just accept it. Maybe this story will make others in a similar situation know they're not alone.

As I started writing this story I came to realize a hard truth though. I don’t rent the room next to the owner. I don’t own these clothes and pajamas. I didn’t have long hair on my head. I couldn’t remove the hair which was right in my face when I looked in the mirror because it literally was right in my face. When I looked in the mirror I could see the body of a 22-year-old guy, rocking a beard because it’s manly. This body I was given, this horribly taken care of body, stared back at me. Stretchmarks covered my belly, taunting me by making it very clear what I am not. Looking at this body made it worse. The shoulders stood broad and there is this obnoxious doodle hanging in front of the pelvis. When my girlfriend confronted me with the open tab, it said “transgender InfoPoint”.

What I experienced this night meant the world to me. Because with enough imagination I wasn’t this 22-year-old guy anymore. I was a 22-year-old girl wearing the clothes which expressed what I felt like inside, walking around in a park and looking at cars and houses, imagining what life could be…

If only…

[your-modern-shakespeare]

A Little Too Real (9)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 4.5, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 7.5, Part 8 

Summary: RealityTV!AU- You are a wardrobe supervisor for a popular TV network. The show is planning a reality TV show like the bachelor and Bucky is the newest contestant. But as the competition starts he realizes that he doesn’t like any of the girls…on the show anyway.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (eventual)

Word Count: 15,622 (I give up guys!)

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long, as you could imagine it takes quiet a bit of time to write something this long. That and I’ve been doing a lot of job stuff recently since it’s about to hit the summer season which is usually the busiest for theatre folk (that is at night). I’m not completely sure if you’re going to love or hate this but either way I hope the wait is worth it and I love you guys! Enjoy! PLEASE pay attention to POV indicators 

Warnings: angst, fluff, implied and mentions of sexy time, mention of nudity? (both of these are not what you’re thinking), kissing, mentions of cheating, mentions of someone dying (not main character), mention of pregnancy, wedding talk, PTSD type situations?

Week 6

Y/N’S POV

The problem with living alone was that it was pretty...lonely.

I tired to spend Sunday alone but really only made it halfway through the day before I gave up and went over to Bucky’s to hang out.  

I knocked on the door of his apartment and waited a couple of seconds for him to answer. When he opened I tried not to react too noticeably to his bare chest and water soaked hair, wearing nothing but a towel.

“Y/N, hey!” He said, now obviously flustered.

“You weren’t expecting me were you?” He waved me in and closed the door behind me.

“No offense or anything, I just kind of assumed you were Steve, but it’s fine, you’re welcome any time. ”

“Is Steve supposed to come over, I don’t mean to intrude?”

“No, no. Um...just give me a second and I’ll fill you in?” He said, gesturing to his nakedness.

“Of course, yeah.” He walked back to his room and got changed and I made myself comfortable on the couch. It didn’t take long for him to join me on the couch...now completely dressed.

Now, I had seen a man before, I had dressed men before, I had seen Bucky without clothes on before, but seeing him in nothing but a towel did not help the thoughts that had already been going through my head.

“So…”

“So...Peggy’s parents are in town. They’re these rich Brits who want to get over involved in the wedding and Steve called and told me that my apartment had been deemed his escape.”

“So you thought that he was already going insane?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t mind having Steve around when you’re wearing nothing but a towel?”

“We grew up together, we’ve been through everything together. I don’t think there’s really anything that could phase either of us.”

“So going back to Peggy’s parents, what are they like?”

“Well they’re really nice and they love Steve; they really took him in after his mom died. And they worship their children, they gave them the world, and didn’t stop there. And now they’re both so successful: Peggy’s getting married and has a great career and you haven’t met her brother yet, but you would like him, he worked in theatre for a bit and he’s done a lot of traveling. But anyway, they just really want to be a part of the wedding planning since they live so far away and they’ll be gone for a long time after the party this week.”

“Party this week?”

“Peggy didn't ask you?”

“No.”

“Her parents are throwing this big fancy engagement party on Thursday, of course she’s going to want you there.”

“How fancy are we talking?”

“Well, most of her family will be there, and her parents may be rich but that’s an understatement with the rest of her family; so It’ll be pretty fancy, black tie. We plan on doing something a little more casual for Steve once they go back, but I suppose you’ll be able to crack out that second dress for the party.”

“Oh, I’m not sure it’ll be that fancy.”

“Well what does it look like?”

“It’s a ballgown.”

“And?”

“That I designed for a red carpet event.”

“Yeah. The party is more like...like something in Downton Abbey. They’ll get all dressed up, lounge around a big house, eat small food, drink tea, maybe do some dancing.”

“So more like a fancy cocktail party.”

“Yeah, but a little more British. The women can wear whatever they want, as long as it’s appropriate. Men have to wear tails or a really nice suit.”

“Please tell my you’re going to wear tails! I love a good tailcoat.”

“Well, I’m not wearing tails to the engagement party, I haven’t had the time to go to a tailor, but I am to the wedding. You should definitely come to the fitting.”

“I would love to come to the fitting. You know in school my final project was constructing a suit for Intimate Apparel. Everyone else had these beautiful corsets and they trusted me with the most difficult piece, but it was also the only male piece that we constructed, which made it really special.”

“So then you’ll know if it looks good on me.”

“Well I don’t think anything could look bad on you, but I’ll know what the tailor’s doing and I can explain things to you.”

“I would like to have you there.”

“Well, I will be there.”

Bucky and I lounged around, watching Downton Abbey and eating take out food, nothing too far away from what we had been doing before; besides the fact that we weren’t living together anymore. And of course, we got to the most dramatic part of our episode when I received a call.

YN: Hello?

PC: I’m kidnapping you and Wanda tomorrow to go dress shopping.

Y/N: Why would we need new dresses Peggy?

I said looking over at Bucky with a smile on my face. He smiled too.

PC: Come on. I know you’re with Bucky and I know that he knows about the engagement party which means that you know.

YN: How do you know I’m with him?

PC: Am I wrong?

YN: No.

PC: Then Steve and I will pick the both of you up in the morning

YN: You know that...that I’m not staying with Bucky anymore right? I was cleared by the doctor, so I went home.

PC: Oh. I mean—we can still pick you up, you know just from your place.

YN: Yeah I would appreciate that

PC: Good so we’ll still pick up the both of you before we go shopping

YN: Okay. See you tomorrow.

PC: Bye

YN: Bye

PEGGY’S POV

“So what did Y/N say to you kidnapping her?” Steve walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Did you know that she moved out of Bucky’s apartment?”

“What? No.”

“Apparently the doctor told her that she was good to go home and she did.”

“Really?”

“Well I didn’t get much information about what happened, but don’t think that I won’t interrogate her when I see her.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“I just don’t understand. I thought they were getting closer to each other.”

“I thought so too.”

“Then why would she move out?”

“I don’t know.”

“There has to be something that we missed.”

“Well she did almost get kidnapped by her ex husband, maybe that has something to do with it.”

“What?!”

“Did she not tell you?”

“We haven’t spoken since the lunch. What happened?”

So Steve sat down on the bed beside me and explained everything that Bucky had told him. And after he finished I completely understood why she hadn’t said anything to me. The whole thing was crazy, but she hadn’t even known that any of it had happened, not before Bucky told her.

“I know why she left.” I said afterward.

“You do?”

“Bucky put himself in danger for her. And her whole life she has had to be so strong and yet that changed when she met Bucky. He made her vulnerable and in a way that she hadn’t been since her ex was in the picture. So with Bucky being there for her and her ex being around too…”

“She left to put her feelings back in check.”

“Exactly.”

“Which means we are further away from getting those two together.”

“Unfortunately.”

“What do we do next?”

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow during shopping.”

“I’ll do the same with Bucky.”

“Good.” He leaned over to give me a quick kiss which turned into a not so short kiss too quickly. I pulled him down closer to me, kissing him deeper, but he pulled away.

“Do we have time before we go pick up your parents?”

“If we don’t do it now we won’t be able to until they leave.”

“We could—”

“We are not going to escape to Bucky’s to have sex.”

“I’m just saying, if we asked he would go over to Y/N’s and give us some privacy.”

“Really, he said that?”

“No, but I’m sure he would say yes.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

We had to rush to the airport after that, but ultimately we made it in time to pick up my parents from their flight. They had been so excited to see us and when we drove them to our apartment they easily settled in to the guest bedroom.

The following morning we made a traditional English breakfast before we headed out to pick up everyone up for a day of shopping. We went to Wanda’s place first seeing that she lived the closest to us, next we went to Bucky’s and last we stopped by Y/N’s.

Bucky, always the gentlemen, especially when it came to Y/N, got out of the car and ran up the steps to help her down, opening the door for her before she climbed in.

“Hey guys!” She said and Bucky climbed in closing the door behind him.

Steve started driving towards the city and we all made small talk, mostly talking about what my family was like and what the party would be like and even talked a little about Bucky’s time in London right after his accident.

And then the boys dropped us off in front of a nice boutique before they headed off to get suits for themselves.

Now I just needed to find out what was going on with Y/N.

Y/N’S POV

Peggy had made an appointment previously for the three of us to find dresses, letting us know that this would be a good place to find something classy and English enough for Americans to wear to a fancy British engagement party.

The staff immediately greeted us as we walked in and as soon as we confirmed our appointment they eagerly gave us free reign to shop. The woman helping us was very fond of showing us dresses that were way too expensive, even though Peggy offered to pay for the dresses. So instead we picked out some of the less expensive dresses (still pretty pricey in my book) and had the woman helping us place them in the dressing rooms. When we reached the limit on how many dresses we could have in the room, we were shown to our respective dressing room and we put on our first options.

When we were all dressed we went to stand out in front of the mirror, all three not obvious or serious picks but fun nonetheless

“So...I’ve been dying to ask you—” Peggy started to say to me.

“Well this can’t be good.” I said in response. She turned to look at me giving me a serious look.

“Why did you move out of Bucky’s?”

“I knew this wouldn’t be good.”

“You moved out of Bucky’s?” Wanda asked.

“Why is this such a big deal?”

“Why is this not a big deal?” Peggy asked.

“It’s not a big deal because staying with Bucky was nothing more than for medical precaution advised by my doctor. Bucky talked to the doctor and told him I could go home, so I did.”

“But things were going so good.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“We just mean that everything seemed really great between you two, so why mess it up?”

“Everything's still fine between us, nothing has changed.”

“But you left.”

“I couldn’t have stayed there forever.”

“Who says you couldn’t.”

“Now you guys are just messing with me.” I turned away from them and headed back to the dressing room to put on the next option. My next dress was a much better option, one I would have actually bought for myself if I had the money.

When I came out the second time I was the first one out of the room, so I sat in one of the chairs and waited for Wanda and Peggy to join me before I said anything to them.

“Okay. I’m going to say one thing and then we are going to drop this conversation.”

“Okay.”

“I left Bucky’s because I was getting too close to him. It was getting harder and harder to keep everything down.”

“Then why do it?” Wanda asked.

“I’m not talking about this anymore.”

“No, she’s right. Why are you trying so hard to push everything down? You love him, you won’t admit it but you do.” Peggy argued.

“You know I get berated every time I go out with you guys and honestly I don’t like it. I came here to hang out with you so please stop questioning me like I’m a murderer.”

“Well if Wanda had a love interest we would be doing the same thing with her.”

“Is that so?”

“But I don’t have anyone.” She said. 

“Or do you?” I asked, hoping to direct attention away from myself.

“No one serious.”

“No one serious?!” Peggy and I both asked at the same time.

“What? We’ve only been out on one date.”

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“Well his real name is Jarvis but everyone calls him Vision.”

“Vision?”  

“He works for Tony on his security detail, an upper level man. He got the nickname because he knows everything that happens, he’s the eyes and ears for Tony.”

“Pretty clever.” Peggy said.

“Yeah.”

“And you like him?”

“It was...a really good first date.”

“You going to see him again?”

“I think so yeah.”

“See, now we can just grill Wanda for fun details.”

“No. Wanda has a date, she is actively seeing someone. You are ignoring your feelings and shoving aside the love of your life. It’s not the same.”

“Well anyway let's talk about something else. What about these dresses?” I stood from the chair and went to go stand beside them, fixing the dress as I did.

“Well you look amazing and should totally get this dress.” Peggy said to me.

“Yeah you look hot, Bucky wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you.” Wanda added.

They both laughed.

“This is not what I meant by you telling me what you thought of this dress.”

“Just being honest.” Peggy said.

“Well if I look ‘hot’ than it’s not right for a proper English engagement party.”

“But it’s perfect for showing Bucky what you got.”

“This Party is not about that.”

“I could just buy it for you anyway, you could wear it out on a date with him, let him take it off you at the end of the night...” I glared at her and they both just laughed at me.

“I am not getting this dress and to think I was going to give you a compliment on yours.”

“Well jokes on you I’m getting this dress because I think I look ‘hot’ in it and I know Steve will like it on...and off me.”

“You do look really good...even though I’m mad at you.”

“You can’t be mad at me, I just want you to be happy and I feel like that dress could help you get really happy.”

“Well the ‘happy’ you’re talking about is not happening with Bucky.”

“Maybe not now, but I have a pretty good feeling.”

“Whatever. I’m going to go put on the next dress.”

Peggy sat out in one of the chairs in her dress as Wanda and I put on our next dress. I decided on the third dress that I tried on which made me look good but was a little more covered and more formal than the last one I had on, despite how much I liked it. Wanda ended up picking the fourth dress she tried on and then we met the boys down the street for lunch before Steve and Peggy drove all of us to work. They dropped Wanda and Bucky off at the house and then went back and dropped me off at the studio so that I could get some work done before I would make my way back to the them. 

Today was technically my first day back at work and boy was I happy. I started at the wardrobe room finally being able to catch up on the work that I had had to push off because of my medical leave. I had been working so long that I didn’t even notice the time and tried to get to the house for filming, but with crutches and a slow going taxi I was definitely late.

I made my way over to the director’s area where Wanda was sitting and we sat and watched the show until we finally got to a break. Bucky came out of the house first and walked over to me.

“You’re late.” He said with a smile on his face.

“I’m a cripple.”

“A late cripple.”

“Got me there.” He laughed at me.

“So how’s your first day back?”

“Good so far.”

“Yeah? Good.”

“Definitely not lacking on the work I’ve got to do.”

“You’ll catch up soon enough.”

“I hope so.”

So as the night came to a close and as we drew later into the week, I worked on everything I needed to to catch up on, helped Peggy pick out a few things for the party, meeting her mom along the way, and spent a lot of time with Bucky.

He was an open book this week, despite not having been the week before. He told me every single doubt and thought he had about the four remaining girls: Ulani, Gabriella, Kristy, and Malia. I sat there for hours listening to what he thought about these girls, which I had to admit hurt quite a bit. But despite everything I listened to what he had to say, listening to things I didn’t even know he was thinking of.

Wednesday night, after a long night of filming, we laid on his bed facing each other. I had planned on going home but he looked like he had had a rough date, a double date with Kristy and Gabriella.

From everything I had seen, which is a lot more than Bucky, these two had it out for each other. It made for a pretty hostile date and a handsomely defeated Bucky.

“That was bad wasn’t it?” He asked.

“Yeah…”

“You want to know the worst part about it?”

“What?”

“I felt like I was on a date with Nat again.”

“Really?” I said in shock.

“When I was in the hospital I had a lot of time to think about what happened with Nat. And I just realized how exhausting the whole relationship had been. I must have had better patience back then because I honestly have no idea how I put up with her for so long. But I was sitting there while they both fought for my attention demanding to be heard and expecting me to care.”

“You don’t?”

“It’s not that I don’t, it’s just that they were both trying so hard to impress me, to make themselves seem more appealing. I just feel that when you meet someone and start dating them you either feel it or you don’t. It shouldn’t have to be about selling yourself to someone or trying to make them believe that you’re a certain way when that may not be the case. Its fake. They were being fake and that’s honestly the best way to describe Nat.”

“So does that mean you know who you’re getting rid of this week?”

“Honestly…?”

“What?”

“I feel like I’ve just wasted everyone’s time.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t think I’m going to end up choosing any of them.”

“What?”

BUCKY’S POV

“What?” She just looked at me like I was crazy. “What do you mean? Can you do that?”

“I don’t know. I have a lawyer looking into it.”

“Peggy?”

“Yeah.”

“I bet she got a kick out of that.”

“What?”

“Looking at your contract to see if you have to pick someone on the show. I'm sure her imagination is running wild with reasons for why.”

“Yeah, her and Steve and probably conspiring against us.”

“Yeah...What are you going to do until then?”

“Keep playing it out until I know for sure.”

“And what happens if you have to choose someone?”

“I'll tell her the truth and make it look good for the cameras.”

“And you think she’ll go along with it?”

“I don’t know. I tend to hope for the best with these girls and get screwed by them at the same time.”

“We’ll figure it out.” She grabbed my hand and held it in hers giving me a hopeful look.

That night Y/N stayed over. We stayed up way too late talking and when the morning came she went back to her apartment to get ready for the day and check on any last things that Peggy needed help with.

Having Y/N there again, even if it was just one night didn’t make things any easier for me. Ever since I kissed Y/N it had been pretty much impossible to think of anything else and when those thoughts started it didn’t take much for my imagination to run wild. So how was I supposed to tell anyone that the reason for Peggy’s evaluation of my contract was so that I could choose Y/N, that I could finally tell her the way that I felt.

So instead of trying to find some way to hang out with Y/N again today, I opted to distract Steve from the over zealous in-laws-to-be. I walked into the big mansion that Peggy’s parents had rented out for the day, with the garment bag holding my suit slung over my shoulder, looking for Steve.

There were countless workers moving about the house, setting up flowers and tables and everything you would actually imagine for a wedding except for the fact that this was an engagement party. I walked around the mansion, asking anyone I could about his whereabouts until I found him upstairs in one of the bedrooms.

“Hey. What are you doing here so early?” He asked. 

“Well you did ask me to come early.”

“I thought it would be like thirty minutes.”

“I’m just awesome like that. But I thought that I would come and help you out, keep you from going insane.”

“Yeah? And what’s the real reason?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, give me a little credit. I think I know when you want something from me.”

“Well it’s not really needing something more than just wanting to get away as well.”

“From?”

“Y/N.”

“Why?”

“It’s not because I want to be away from her, but because I have to.”

“What?”

“When she told me she was moving out I was honestly sad to see her go. And I honestly hate living alone now but I think it was good that she left.”

“Why’s that?”

“While she was there I felt like I could cross any personal line that I wanted to and it would be okay. I let myself believe that she was there because she wanted to be with me not because the doctor was forcing her to be there. And I just left my heart on my sleeve and let it feel everything it wanted to about her. Her leaving made me put things back into perspective.”

“You know that she probably left for the same reason right?”

“I don’t know, she seemed pretty excited to go home.”

“What did she say?”

“That she should let me have my apartment back so that I can get back to my ‘bachelor ways’”

“Yeah doesn’t really sound like she left because she wanted to. You should have stopped her. God knows she has enough trouble getting down those stairs. If anything it’s a safety hazard for her to be back at her place.”

“I did try to stop her, she practically ran out of my apartment at the end of the day.”

“Not because she was excited to go home, but because she needed space from you. She obviously felt the same way and needed the space to put herself back into the right headspace.”

“Anyway...I came here to escape my women problems, so let’s do something else or talk about something other than me.”

“Okay. One last thing, because you’re trying so hard to bury your feelings for her and I wouldn’t want to keep you from that. But you do know that you’ll be stuck with her in Moscow for two weeks, right?”

“Wait what?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Well they told me that some of the crew were coming with us but I just figured they wouldn’t send the head of the department.”

“They thought that because she has some background with other tech departments and she can speak Russian fluently, that she would be a useful asset to have in Moscow.”

“Well I wasn’t planning for that.”

“Which means you probably just need to tell her how you feel.”

“Or I just need to shove down my feelings even further.” I hadn’t even told Steve about the kiss and God if that didn’t make me feel ten times more for Y/N than I had before. “I’ll figure out what to do but right now I need you to take my mind off of it. So what can I do to help?”

Steve and I moved around the huge house working on whatever Peggy’s mother assigned to us and occupying every second we could until it was time to go get ready for the party.

Putting on my suit, I stared at myself in the mirror, taking deep breaths and once again trying my hardest to get Y/N out of my mind. But when I couldn’t seem to find a good reason to hide out in the room any longer I went next door to Steve’s room where he was supposed to be getting ready.

I went to the door and hearing the noise beyond, I decided not to intrude, figuring that Peggy had found him before I could whisk him away.

So I was playing wingman now, doing absolutely everything I could to keep anyone from going up there to find them. I was walking downstairs when I bumped into Peggy’s mother.

“Hello Bucky.”

“Amanda.”

“Have you seen Steve around?”

“Oh, he asked for a few more minutes to get ready. I am all yours though, what can I do?” I held out my arm for her and she laced her arm through mine as I led her back downstairs.

She had a whole list of things apparently that still needed to be done. So like I volunteered, she put me to work.

It was maybe twenty minutes later that Steve walked downstairs, his hair a little ruffled but nonetheless looking good in his new suit. He walked over to me first.

“Have fun?” I asked with a smirk on my face.

“You heard?”

“I’ve been covering for you, Amanda is looking for you.”

“You’re the best.”

“Well I figured you needed it after having Peggy’s whole family in that apartment of yours all week.”

“Yeah. Thanks, It felt like I hadn’t seen her all week.”

“Just a couple more days and they’ll be gone and then we can have a real party.”

“Yeah, I love them but man they can get crazy when it comes to all of this stuff. I just want to marry Peggy.”

“And you will, but it may be a painful process.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

We both worked until the first guests arrived, giving Peggy her cue to show up and attached herself to Steve’s side. They greeted everyone who came in and I tried to stay near the food and drinks.

Somewhere amongst my hiding, Steve made his way back over to me grabbing a drink for himself and Peggy.

“I see you found a hiding place for the night.”

“Unintentionally.”

“You can’t hide from Y/N. She’s going to find you.”

“I’m just preparing myself.”

“Peggy says that she looks stunning.”

“She’s always beautiful.”

“Then why are you hiding, make a move.” Steve handed me one of his drinks and then grabbed my arm, pulling me back into the room where Peggy and her family were.

“Steve, wait. There’s something I didn’t tell you earlier.” I stopped him before we could get too close to anyone, but in perfect sight of the front door.  

“Okay?”

“I messed up.”

“You may have to be more specific.”

“You can’t judge me.”

“No judgement here.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it. But um...I kissed Y/N.”

“What? That’s awesome man. I’m so happy for you.”

“N-no. How do I say this? She was asleep.”

“She was asleep?”

“It was the day after Jackson and her grandmother got arrested. And I called her doctor and he said that she would be good to use crutches which meant that she didn’t have to stay with me anymore. I thought it would be the last night that she would be with me and I just saw her laying there and I was thinking about all of the good times we had together and I kissed her, thinking it was my only chance.”

“And the problem?”

“I can’t—I can’t stop thinking about it.

“And you spend all of your time with her.”

“It was stupid.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty stupid.”

“Steve—”

“I—I want to help you I do, but this has gone on too long. You love her, just go and tell her.”

“I—” I looked over at the front door, having heard it open, to see Y/N, Wanda, and her date walk through. I went to turn back to Steve but did a double take when I saw what she looked like, my jaw hit the floor. I stared at how beautiful she was, the way her eyes sparkled, the way her body looked in that dress, the lipstick that made it hard to look anywhere else...

“You’re in way more trouble than you think.” He said, patting my shoulder before leaving me to face Y/N alone.

STEVE’S POV

I walked back over to Peggy, not even thinking for a second that Bucky saw me go. She was talking to some relative that I knew she didn’t know, from the look on her face alone, and politely excused the two of us before I tugged her off to somewhere more private.

“Thanks for that, I had no idea what he was talking about.” She said with a smile on her face.

“We need to tell them...tonight.” Was the only thing I could say.

“What?”

“Y/N and Bucky. We need to tell them that they kissed at my birthday party.”

“I thought we weren’t getting involved.”

“I’ve been trying not to but I can’t do this anymore. Bucky kissed Y/N.”

“What?”

“While she was asleep. The last night she stayed with him he kissed her and he says that he can’t stop thinking about it.” We both looked back through the doorway to the room, spying on Bucky and Y/N.

“And they’re practically drooling over each other.”

“Well that was always there, but even more so tonight.”

“You did good, Bucky looks good in that suit.”

“Just like you said, Y/N likes a navy suit.”

“Well, I did have a better dress for Y/N but we unintentionally teased her out of getting it. It may have been a little too sexy for this party anyway, but he would have eaten it up.”

“She looks good though.”

“I bought her the other dress anyway, I plan on giving it to her later so that she can wear it out on a date with him.”

“Which is why we need to tell them, give them the push they need.”

“They need a shove.”

“Yeah and this should do it.”

“I’ll take Y/N as soon as she’s done talking to him.”

“Good, I’ll take Bucky.”

Y/N’S POV

“Hi.” I said to him, staring a little too long at the man of walking sin.

“Hi. You look…” He paused for an uncomfortable amount of time, trying to find the right word.

“Good?”

“Beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I smiled real big, taking the complement to heart. I stared at him for just a moment before I turned around to face Wanda and Vision.

“Bucky, this is Wanda’s date Jarvis. Vision, Bucky.”

“Please call me Vision, my friends do.” They shook hands..

“It’s nice too meet you Vision. Wanda, you look incredible.” Bucky said, trying to break up some of the awkward tension.

“Thank you.”

“Peggy and Steve were just here and would love to see you guys. As you can probably see we have quite a large party here, so they may be difficult to find at first but if you do find find them feel free to rescue them from a relative.”

“That bad huh?” I asked and he laughed.

“There’s a lot of people here that I don’t even think her parent’s know.”

“I know quite a few English families just as big, it can be overwhelming.” Vision added.

“Yeah, but anyway we have refreshments through that door and waiters are walking around with flutes of champagne, so feel free to eat and drink as much as you want.”

Right as he said that a waiter passed by us and we took the remaining four flutes from him.

We started some small talk and were actually talking about Tony when Steve and Peggy rejoined us.

“You must be Vision.” Peggy stated. “Wanda has told us a lot about you.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” He said.

“I’m Peggy and this is Steve, my fiance.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Well I hope you guys are enjoying the party so far, but I am stealing these two ladies away for a bit, you boys may have them back once I have received the secrets I am in search of.”

“I swear if she’s not a lawyer, she’s a spy.” Steve commented and we all chuckled. Vision moved down to kiss Wanda on the cheek before Peggy whisked Wanda and I off to some secluded part of the huge house.

BUCKY’S POV

“I’m pretty sure she is a spy and you her willing accomplice.” I said as soon as the girls were out of earshot.

“More like stockholm syndromed captive.”

“Ooh.” I said, laughing.

“Kidding. I love Peggy. So Vision it looks like you may get in on the action tonight as a new member of the get-Y/N-and-Bucky-together club.”

“Come on, it’s not actually a club.” I tried to interrupt, just taking whatever he had to say at this point.

“Fine, it’s me, Peggy, Wanda and now you and our mission is for us to get these two stubborn heads together. But just a quick recap, if Wanda hasn’t already explained, Bucky here is in love with Y/N and we’re pretty sure it vice versa as well. Bucky here though, won’t admit his feeling for her because he’s on a reality TV show to fall in love with someone else. But I threw a Fourth of July party, also my birthday, freshly into their friendship in which the two don’t remember that they kissed.”

“Wait what?” I said, stopping him from saying anything else.

“Yeah...the girl you made out with, I remembered very clearly that it was Y/N, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“Because I’m hoping that it’ll give you the courage to tell her how you feel.”

“Mr. Stark and Wanda both speak very highly of Y/N, you would be very lucky to have her.” Vision said.

“I know, I am. I just don’t...I don’t really know what’s holding me back, not when I feel the way that I do.”

“This is about Nat.”

“No it’s not.”

“Nat is his ex who cheated on him while he was living in Russia. He lost his arm in a freak accident and she never showed to see if he was okay. He later found of she had been with another guy pretty much the whole time he was there.” Steve explained to Vision.

“I don’t know much about Y/N but she doesn’t seem like the person to do something like that.” He said in response.

“I know she wouldn’t.” I said.

“Then you’re just scared. You’re scared that she’ll turn you down, even though anyone with eyes could see that she’s just as much in love with you as you are with her.” Steve placed a hand on my shoulder, giving me a serious look.

“You won’t know unless you ask her.” Vision said with a small smile on his face.

“I’ll talk to her tonight.” I finally caved.

“Good.” Steve looked very pleased with himself. I just needed the girls to come back.

Y/N’S POV

We didn’t venture too far from the party scene, just far enough away to get a little privacy.

“You are pretty good at kidnapping us and in broad daylight no less.” I commented.

“The sun is going down, correction, and yes I am.” Peggy said.

“So what is it you wanted to talk to us about?” Wanda asked.

“Not so much as ask you anything, more like I need to tell Y/N something.”

“This can’t be good.” I said.

“It’s pretty good, we’re going to like it anyway.”

“Great.”

“You remember the fourth of July party that we threw for Steve?”

“I would use that term loosely for that night, don’t remember really anything other than the fact that it happened.”

“Something happened at the party.”

“Okay.”

“You and Bucky kissed that night.”

“What?” Wanda asked.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh thank god!” I had never felt so relieved in my life.

“What?” They both said.

“I thought I was going crazy.”

“You remembered?”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“First things first, you’re going to try and say I told you so and you guys going to get all weird but I don’t need that, I need you to be serious.”

“Okay.” They both replied.

“Ever since the accident I’ve been in this really weird place. I remember everything about the crash, I even remember the feeling of them cutting into me, piecing me back together. I don’t know how but I do. I used to close my eyes and see it over and over again and then after I finished that nightmare, the ones with Jackson started. It became this terrible loop and I felt it draining the life from me. I stayed close to Bucky because he made me feel normal, he reminded me that I’m a good person and that I’m not going crazy. And even though he couldn’t always keep the nightmares away, when I jolted awake, scared out of my mind, I had someone to grab onto, someone to root me back down. He reminded me that that wasn’t real. And the truth is I can’t imagine my life without him. And I know that puts me in a hard place because he’s on the show and I’m his friend, but um….I had this dream. And you can’t judge me for it, but I saw a glimpse of me and him. It was a kiss, a really good kiss but it was...everything. And even though the kiss was a dream it somehow felt real. I mean I know it wasn’t, Bucky and I had never kissed before, but in the dream it felt familiar, like we had before. And I’m not going crazy because it did happen. I just didn’t remember.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Wanda asked.

“I don’t know. Obviously he doesn’t remember either, otherwise he would have said something.”

“But what if he didn’t?”

“Just because I know I’m not crazy anymore, is not going to change the situation that we’re in now.”

“It changes everything. You had a dream of being with him and it was trying to remind you that you had kissed him before. Just walk over to him and do it again.”

“No. The only thing that changes is that I shouldn’t get drunk around him.”

“Come on. People don’t have sex dreams about their best friend and just stay best friends.”

“It wasn’t a sex dream, it was one kiss.” I lied.

“Either way, this confirms that you have feelings for him, ones that he needs to know about.”

“Do you love him?” Peggy said, her first time chiming in. She looked like she understood what I was thinking but at the same time she had this look in her eyes that made me want to tell her yes, to scream it so that everyone could know.

“I—” I had planned on telling both of them how much I was in love with Bucky, that was until I saw a very familiar face, one that I hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Ladies, I come baring drinks.” The man said carrying four chutes of champagne.

My jaw hit the floor. He passed a drink to Peggy first and then Wanda, saving his last glance for me.

“Y/N?” He looked just as surprised as I was.

“Michael.”

“Y/N.” Then he did the unexpected. He moved the few feet, that had been the only thing between us, grabbed me in his arms, as best as he could, and kissed me just as passionately as he did when we had been together…eight years ago.

I pulled away from him first, completely startled by the fact that the first man who I had ever loved was kissing me again.  

“Michael.” I whispered, having a sudden flash of everything that we had had and of course our eventual break up.

“What are you doing here?” He asked me.

“Hold on! How does my brother know who you are?” Peggy asked me.

“Your brother?!”

“How do you know Peggy?” He asked.

“I...I thought I would never see you again.”

“Yeah.”

“Excuse me.” I whispered and hurried off as fast as my crutches would take me.

BUCKY’S POV

I walked in right as Michael kissed Y/N. Not only was I completely shocked but the confidence I had just had was completely gone.

I had no idea how Y/N knew Michael, I had no idea if this was something new or something old or something that had been going on for a while, but she looked pretty startled when she pulled away from him.

There were a lot of confused faces and questions being thrown around to each other as Y/N just looked like she wanted to burst into tears. Suddenly she started to walk away from the group, going as fast as her crutches would take her. I watched as she went, knowing that she would need someone to talk to, just like I had needed when I saw Nat again that first day of filming. So I pushed everything else aside and would try my hardest to be there for Y/N because that was what she needed right now...a friend.

YN’S POV/ MICHAEL’S POV (Bolded)

The plus side to having an engagement party in a mansion was the fact that this mansion had a pool, which was on the opposite side of where the party was happening.

So I took off my one shoe and moved my dress out of the way before I placed my foot in the cold water, needing the distraction to ease my mind.

Not only was it too crazy that I almost admitted out loud that I was in love with Bucky, which was something I’m sure I couldn’t take back, but Michael was here.

“Hey.” I heard and turned around to see bucky. He moved to sit on the ground next to me, unbuttoning his jacket, removing his socks and shoes and rolling up the legs of his pants so that he could put his feet in the water too.

“Hey.”

“I saw you rush out of there.”

“Yeah.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Just something else to add to the crazy.”

“How crazy are we talking?”

“Michael...he was the first boyfriend I had after my marriage.”

“Michael Carter?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.” I looked at him, glared at him really.

“Is that all you can say?”

“Honestly, it’s not that crazy.”

“To you maybe. He was the first man I ever loved.”

“What happened?”

“I’m only going to ask one more time, how do you know Y/N?” Peggy asked. She was the little sister and yet she always knew how to make me feel small.

Y/N had just stormed out of the house and honestly I felt bad for kissing her. I had no idea if she was seeing anyone or if she even wanted to see me again. God knows she had the right to be angry with me.

“What happened Michael?” She asked again.

“I left New York behind...you know, after Jackson and my grandmother. The plan had been to move to LA and try to figure things out. I started school at UCLA and worked on my Costume Design degree as long as I could...but I just couldn’t do it. I honestly hated living in LA, which is crazy now, but I hated it before. So I transferred without telling Asa and my dad.”

“To UT Austin right?”

“Yeah. And even though Austin was a crowded city it was so much better than LA. I think the biggest part was that maybe LA, so soon after living in New York, reminded me too much of them. So I lived in Austin all throughout college and somewhere in between I got this incredible job on campus dressing for the touring shows that came in to use the campus’ performance hall.”

“Well you know that I moved to Austin to be with my girlfriend and I got a job working at this theatre on the UT campus. I was exploring the other side of sound design and thought that working the touring shows would finally help me break through the design block I was in. So I would help these touring crews load in there sound equipment and I would program the board and help them put on mics during the show. And then my girlfriend broke up with me, leaving me alone in Austin at a job that I found surprisingly great but far away from home.”

“So I went to class and then went to work, finally doing something that I loved; Wardrobe. It wasn’t that I hated Costume Design, but I don’t guess I liked either. After I started this job I told my advisers that I didn’t want to do anything else. And so they made sure to give me more jobs with the touring shows, hoping that the people I would meet would give me opportunities to do exactly what I loved. I was working Next to Normal, super small show, but that’s where I met Michael.”

“2010, Next to Normal, that’s where I saw Y/N for the first time. She was in all black and honestly the most beautiful person I had ever seen. She was working with there Wardrobe Supervisor at the gondolas, which is where they keep all the clothes, and I was plugging in the power strips to light them. We hadn’t had the chance to put the curtains up yet to make the changing area private but she didn’t see me and ran into me when she walked out.”

“I was collecting laundry from the gondolas, that’s where they keep the costumes when they travel, and I was walking out of area and he bumped into me while he was plugging in the powers strips. I dropped the clothes that I had in my arms and he helped me pick everything up and then I rushed away from him.”

“You ran away from him?”

“I was nervous, he made me nervous.”

“But she ran away from me after I helped her pick up the clothes she had dropped.”

“She ran away from you?”

“Yeah. But anyway, after that we didn’t really speak to each other. We both worked the next couple of shows but I just was under the impression that she didn’t like me because every time I tried to talk to her she ran away.”

“We did work the next couple of shows together which made things super awkward, but with everything that had happened with Jackson I just got worried when he kept popping up and trying to talk to me.”

“So I stopped trying to go after her. I needed the job more than anything, so I focused on that.”

“He stopped trying to talk to me, and honestly I needed the job and the experience so I forgot about him.”

“Until the Summer…”

“Until the Summer…”

“The theatre I had been working at, usually didn’t do things over the summer, so I started looking into other theaters around the area, knowing that I didn’t have the option but to fulfill the rest of my lease period. So I started working at Zilker Hillside Theatre. They do a couple of shows in the park over the summer and eventually it would roll over past the summer and give me a shot at doing some work for ACL, Austin City Limits, you know one of the big music festivals.”

“I was taking a few classes over the summer to help make up what hadn’t transferred and decided to do something really fun so I started working at this outdoor theatre at Zilker Park. And I don’t know if it was fate or just coincidence, but he was there working the same shows, again.”

“And somehow she was there, again. So this time instead of pushing it off I went up to her and said what I had wanted to say before.”

“He walked up to me and started saying all of these things to me, things that I didn’t even know that he was thinking about. I mean we had really only met once and he ran into me, it didn’t give occasion to conversation. So I listened to what he had to say and honestly I was surprised. He was talking about how beautiful I looked that first day and how frustrating I had been every other time.”

“I may have said some nasty things. She was just so frustrating.”

“But then he asked me out.”

“But I still asked her out.”

“And surprisingly enough...I said yes.”

“And by some miracle, she said yes.”

“So we had lunch, because work usually went late and everything closed by the time we were done for the night. He took me to get street tacos and we sat at a picnic table and talked. It wasn’t super romantic or anything too out there for a date, but it was nice getting to know him.”

“I took her to a food truck to get street tacos. I know it's not the most romantic thing but I really just wanted a chance to get to know her better. So we sat at a picnic table and talked until it was time for us to go to work that night. And honestly it was surprising to me, how much I liked her.”

“He drove me to work later that night and honestly despite the way that I felt about him, I wasn’t sure about seeing him again. And I told him that the next time I saw him.”

“Only she had doubts. She told me that she liked me but she was nervous and standoffish the next time we saw each other. So I came up with a plan to show her that I was serious about seeing her again.”

“I didn’t think that he would do anything. I guess at that point in my life, with no family around and really no friends, my accent was still pretty strong back then, I was so terrified of everything that happened with Jackson that I didn’t want to get involved with him. But he didn’t take no for an answer. He was convinced that he could get me out on a second date, it only took me a week to say yes to him.”

“Everyday for the next week I gave her some sort of present, some way to show her that I was serious about taking her out again. I bought her flowers, chocolates, authentic Russian foods, I even bought her a new flashlight because hers was just terrible.  And after a week of trying to convince her to say yes to a second date, she finally said yes.”

“I tried to say no to him, thinking it would be easier that way, I figured my past would always be too much for anyone. But then he started doing all of these sweet things for me, bringing me presents, food on the late nights, even a new flashlight because he said mine sucked. But, I don’t know, I guess that because he was willing to do so much for me, he convinced me that he deserved a second chance. So at the end of the week I finally said yes.”

“And it was as if things...clicked. She so easily became the center of my world.”

“We spent all of our time together after that. We just got so wrapped up in each other, it was truly a whirlwind summer romance.”

“It didn’t take me long to fall in love with her…”

“It didn’t take me long to fall in love with him…”

“We made it three months before everything changed.”

“And then everything changed.”

“You called me and told me that Bucky had been in that terrible accident. So I picked up everything and moved back to London just like mom had asked.”

“He said that a friend of his had been in a terrible accident and that he had to go back home.”

“Of course, I told her that I would stay in touch and that I would see her again.”

“He told me that he would stay in touch and that I would see him again.”

“But life caught up with me. Once Bucky moved in with us, it just became too easy with the time difference and the new job and all the new life in the house to forget about Austin and about Y/N.”

“He stopped talking to me, stopped trying to make it work and eventually we just stopped all together. Didn’t really need a break-up because it didn’t even last a week after he left. We never spoke again.”

“We didn’t make it a week long distance. I never spoke to her again.”

“I did love him, but there was always this creeping suspicion that it wasn’t going to last. Maybe it was the fact that he was my first boyfriend, despite the fact that I had been married before, or maybe it was because we weren’t in love as much as I thought we were.”

“I did love her, and I really did think that we were going to last. Maybe if I had stayed and kept us in our small little bubble, we would have lasted. Seeing her here makes me wonder why I ever left her. It’s like fate brought us back together.”

“How do you feel now?” Bucky asked me.

“Honestly, it’s nice to see him…”

“But?”

“But when he kissed me…”

“Nothing?”

“Not like it was before. Eight years too late I guess.”

“Eight years…”

“Yeah...why?”

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“I’m the reason you guys broke up.”

“What?”

“Eight years ago...that’s when my accident happened.”

“Eight years ago?” I was thinking about everything that I knew and there were some things that weren’t adding up.

“Yeah...that’s when it happened. I stayed in London for a few years, went to a clinic for my depression and once I was mentally healthy I started having these ideas for prosthestics. I went to New York first to try to find someone to develop my idea and when that didn’t happen I moved to the next major city, working my way west until I stopped in LA. I met Tony and started developing the idea and halfway through the project he told me that I needed to go to physical therapy to build up the muscles in what was left of my shoulder. I met Luna the first time about six years after the accident, she was about four, and the rest is history.”

“Sorry, the way you talk about it makes it seem like…”

“Like it just happened?”

“Like your recovery was a lot faster.”

“I wish it had been. The past eight years have been really hard and it took me a long time to get here. You know that’s why I auditioned for the show, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I wanted a quick way to meet people outside of the hospitals and the labs and have someone who hadn’t or wasn’t currently working with my family or friends to make me normal again. That and the girls in real life didn’t want to date a man with a metal arm.”

“Bucky, you are normal. Just because you have a metal arm doesn’t make you any less normal. And they’re stupid for not seeing how amazing you are.”

Having a second to look at each other, now noticing just how close we were sitting, I turned to look at him, seeing that he was already looking at me. Our faces couldn’t have been but a few inches away from each other and I tried to take in a breath without him noticing.

I thought about what Peggy had said, the fact that we had kissed, which meant that I wasn’t crazy, which meant that my dream meant that I wanted to kiss him again? Now I was overthinking.

The truth of it all was that he was inches from me and I wanted to kiss him and it almost seemed like he did too. I moved forward just a bit and he did too.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something…”

“Okay.” We didn’t move away from each other, he took in a breath, licked his lips and opened his mouth to say what he needed to…

“I—”

“Y/N?”

The whole world stopped.

That voice hadn’t been Bucky’s and I really didn’t want to leave this moment, but…

I pulled away first, the curiosity getting the better of me, and looked over to see Michael looking at me, hopefully not seeing what almost happened since we were at such a weird angel.

“Michael.”

“If you have a second I would love to talk to you.”

“Sure. Give me a second.” I looked over at Bucky before I moved to stand. “You were going to say something?”

He opened his mouth to say something but closed his mouth before he, I think, could say what he actually wanted to say. Instead he said, “You really do look incredible...just stunning.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome too. I’m a sucker for a navy suit.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Was all I could think of to say back.

So instead of the both of us saying what we wanted to say, I moved my foot out of the pool and did what I could to dry off my foot before I put my shoe back on. Bucky pulled his feet out but stood and moved to help me up before he even thought about his shoes. He grabbed my crutches and held them out for me, being the perfect gentlemen and friend, once again helping me.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you inside.” He said, before he bent down and tried his best to dry his feet off.

I moved across the backyard area to Michael, mine and Bucky’s moment officially having died.

BUCKY’S POV

As soon as I was able to get my feet dried off I put my shoes back on and went back inside to the party.

I felt like an idiot.

I should have said something to her while I had the chance and yet here I was putting my wet feet into dry socks, admitedly the worst feeling, and walking back into the crowded room while Y/N was probably laughing it up and falling back in love with Michael Carter.

I walked over to Steve whose smiling face fell when he saw my expression.

“That doesn’t look like the face of a man who finally admitted to the girl he loved that he loved her. You froze, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t freeze...I was interrupted.”

“Sure.”

“I was...by Michael.”

“By Michael? Carter?”

“Yeah, apparently Michael was Y/N’s first love while he was living in Austin. She was in school and they both worked for the same theatre.”

“This is a sign.”

“What that she belongs with him? You’re supposed to be on my side, just because you’re marrying Peggy—“

“No, if they were together while he was in Austin that also means that he left her behind in Austin when he came back home to help us out with you.”

“I’m not getting a point here.”

“She wasn’t meant to be with him. If it was meant to work out it would have worked out. But instead he forgot all about her.”

“I’m still not getting the ‘sign.’”

“Not a sign for him, a sign for you, to tell her.”

“She doesn’t like him like that anymore.”

“But can you say that he doesn’t like her?”

“She doesn’t want to get back with him.”

“That’s never stopped him before.”

Then I thought about the way he made her say yes to a second date, how she hadn’t wanted to pursue him and yet she still managed to say yes to him.

I had to do something, but I didn’t know what.

I stayed close to Steve and Peggy as the party continued, waiting for Y/N and Michael to come back from wherever they were talking. And when she did, she didn’t look happy. She headed straight for the champagne.

I walked over to her and I saw relief flash over her face when she saw that it was me, but nothing but worry grew on my face when I saw the tears that were threatening to spill over.

I placed my hand on her back and led her to stand behind a wall that would shield us from the wondering eyes of Peggy’s family. I had my back against the wall and I wrapped her in my arms letting her head come to rest against my chest and her just taking in deep breaths.

“Thanks for stealing me away.” She said after sometime.

“It looked like you needed someone to hide with.” And then she laughed. It was the most magnificent sound.

“God, I’m a mess aren’t I?”

“A beautiful mess.”

“Thanks.”

“No, but seriously, it’s just been a rough couple of weeks, it’ll get better.”

“I’m not so sure about that one.”

“Michael isn’t a big problem, not after Jackson.”

“Yeah.”

“Just tell him exactly what you feel, tell him whether or not you want to see him again—”

“I don’t.”

“Then tell him to leave you alone.”

“But he’s Peggy’s brother, she’s my best friend, I feel I should be a little nicer than that.”

“Then tell him that you don’t want to see him in a romantic way again. It’s been eight years, he can’t just expect you to have waited for him.”

“You’re right.”

“Maybe just this once. Ready to go back?”

“Sure…”

“That didn’t sound very sure.”

“Just take me back before I change my mind.”

So we walked back into the room and joined Peggy and Steve, who were later joined by Wanda and Vision.

And just like that, the night went on.

Once Peggy’s parents saw that Steve and Peggy stayed in the room long enough to do the things that they wanted, the more official part of the party started. Her parents talked about what Peggy was like as a kid and how from a very young age she always showed signs of becoming a lawyer. They talked about there love for Steve and how he had already become part of the family and they told everyone how excited they were to have him officially in the family.

Then it was my turn.

They finished there speech with a toast, everyone taking a sip from there champagne glasses. I met them up at the front of the room where they both greeted me before I took over.

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is James Barnes. I have known Steve my whole life and I figured that I should probably say something on behalf of his side of the family. But yeah...growing up with this kid, I thought I had been good to go on this whole best man speech deal, but I will say that Steve did ask me not to bring up any embarrassing stories, any ex-girlfriends, or really anything else that I had originally planned on talking about. So that really left me with nothing. Instead I need the extra time to come up with something as mind blowing as a best man speech so until then I just have something quick to read. So…”

I pulled a piece of paper out of my jacket, something I had been holding on to for a very long time.

“‘To my son,

I’m sorry I couldn’t be here today, God knows I wanted to. There were so many things that I never got to do with you, so many things that I never got to say, but no matter, what you were always my pride and joy. When I found out I was pregnant with you I couldn’t remember a happier day, I remember the smile on your father’s face when I finally told him and I remember all the plans that we had for you, even before you were bigger than a peach. But the realization that you were actually coming hadn’t hit me until I lost your father. I was so terrified by the thought of raising you alone, heartbroken and alone, and yet that all changed the second I met you. There had been no instruction manual, no one to tell me how to raise a child, and yet somehow I didn’t completely mess it up. I know that I made mistakes with you, I know that there were times that you hated me and that just came with the territory of being a mom. But everything I ever did was because I loved you.

But there will come a day when you decide that you want to spend the rest of your life with someone and I know I won’t be there for you. I know it will be hard and I know that it won’t seem fair that I couldn’t stick around, but just know that I am always with you. And because I know you, I know that Peggy will be your wife someday. And if she is anything like you describe than I know that you’ll be okay. (Bucky, if he doesn’t end up with her please don’t read that)’” I stopped and everyone laughed.

“She was always smart and probably knew well before they did that they would get married one day. But anyway back to the letter. ‘So don’t worry about messing up or worry about the little things that make life seemingly hard. That’s what you have each other for and at the end of the day, no matter what happens, everything will be alright. So love each other, grow together, enjoy the life you have together, because at the end of the day all that matters is the life that you spend with her.

So make every moment count. I know I did.

I will always love you,

You mother’”

There was clapping after I finished the letter and I had to wipe away a tear before it had the chance to fall down my face.

“Steve, you mother gave me that letter the last time I saw her. She said that I would read this to you when I thought the time was right and I guess if and when you decided to get married to Peggy. So Steve and Peggy, not only has it been the greatest privilege getting to be your friends but it has been an honor getting to watch the two of you fall in love with each other. From friends, to more than friends, and soon as husband and wife. You two are proof that two people can love each other so deeply that words just can’t describe it; soulmates as close as it would get. I know that your mother wanted to be here, she would have loved to see you marrying Peggy, and as fate would have it, your mother somehow thought I would be the best person for all of this.” The room laughed. “So I promise to be there for you guys in any way you could need me and I promise to keep your mother’s memory alive as best as I can.” I lifted my champagne flute towards the ceiling.

“To Steve and Peggy.” Everyone repeated after me and took a sip from their flutes. I moved away from the front of the room and walked over to Steve. He immediately grabbed me in a big hug.

“Thank you.” He said, with tears running down his face.

“Don’t thank me, this was all her.”

“God I miss her.”

“I do too.”

He pulled away from me and Peggy’s mom went back up to announce that cake would be served now and that the rest of the night would consist of dancing and mingling. Of course Steve and Peggy had a few presents to open, leaving the four of us to fend for ourselves again.

Wanda and Vision went to the makeshift dance area, leaving me with Y/N.

“Your speech was really great.”

“Thank you. I had to wait a long time for those two to get together.”

“Really?”

“You want to dance?”

“Are you going to explain to me what happened?”

“Let’s dance.”

“Okay.” I grabbed her crutches, propping them up against the wall and lead her over to where everyone else was dancing, holding up most of her weight as we moved. I wrapped my left arm around her waist, holding her off her bad foot, and held her hand in mine. She moved her empty hand to my neck. “So?”

“Steve has always been in love with Peggy. When we were in high school, Peggy’s father moved the family to New York to help the family business. We were just starting our freshman year of high school and then she walks in, it was almost automatic that they became best friends. She so easily joined our little pack and it was the three of us all throughout high school. Of course she didn’t know that he was in love with her, but we would later find out that she was in love with him too. Nothing ever happened though, until our senior year and Steve finally got the balls to ask her to prom. That’s when it changed, they came back from that dance as boyfriend and girlfriend and the rest is history. All three of us ended up moving to California and her family left New York and went back to the UK and you know the rest.”

“I understand now.”

“Understand what?”

“Why they’re pushing us together.”

“I guess it would make sense, given how long it took them.”

“Yeah.”

It got awkward after that, I didn’t know if I should tell her now, that I loved her, or if it was just poor timing because of the Michael thing. But we just danced and I thought about what I should do and subsequently went through every single outcome of me finally telling her.

“Can we interrupt?” Peggy asked followed by Steve.

“Sure.” I said. I placed Y/N completely back on the ground and let Steve grab her before I started to dance with Peggy.

“So…?” She asked.

“What?”

“Steve told me you were going to tell her tonight.”

“That was before Michael.”

“Leave it to Michael to ruin everything.”

“I wanted to tell her.”

“Then just do it. Drive her home and tell her everything.”

“Did you finish going through the contract?”

“Not yet, I want to make sure I go through everything with a fine toothed comb. So far it’s looking good though.”

“Good, maybe I’ll just tell her once we know for sure. She seemed pretty upset earlier about something Michael said.”

“The most important part is that you tell her.”

“I plan on it, I do.”

“Good...and Bucky?”

“Yeah.”

“Your speech was perfect.”

“You know if people keep telling me that, I’m not going to be able to make an even better speech at the wedding.”

“You better get started now.”

“Sorry I’m going to steal my fiance back now.” Steve said, tapping on my shoulder.

“Where’s Y/N?” He just nodded over in her direction as she danced with Michael.

“I’m going to get a drink.”

Y/N’S POV

I was dancing with Steve, perfectly happy and talking about his mom, when Michael walked up to us.

“Can I cut in?”

“I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

“Please Y/N?” I took a second and looked at Bucky before I looked back at Michael. I just wanted to be done with him.

“Fine.”

So Steve left me alone with him and Michael wrapped me in his arms, the two of us slowly swaying to the music.

“I know you’re mad at me.”

“What gave it away?”

“I know that what I did was wrong, but I feel like it can’t be a coincidence that we’re both here tonight.”

“It is. Peggy is my best friend and the only reason I am talking to you is because I look forward to my friendship with her. Which means that you and I are going to have to be civil towards each other.”

“So this is about Peggy?”

“Of course it is.”

“And what’s happening with you and Bucky?”

“That‘s not what this is about.”

“So you admit that there’s something there.”

“No, I admit that there’s nothing here between us.”

“How can you say that? We loved each other.”

“Loved...past tense.”

“Anyway, I didn’t come over here to argue with you. If you’re willing to to try and make it work between us, non-romantically, than so am I.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I also came to ask a favor.”

“Okay?”

“A lot of my family is staying with Peggy and Steve at their apartment, but the rest of the family is staying at a hotel nearby. Because I flew in so late I wasn’t able to get a room and I was wondering if I could sleep on your couch and maybe we could talk a little bit more about how to make this work.”

“You’re not going to try and make a move on me are you?”

“I would never do that.”

“I have to ask because you always had some move to play against me.”

“I wouldn’t call that a play...more like a romantic gesture.”

“Well now I would call it a play.”

“And like I said I would never do that to you.”

“Fine I guess you can stay over...for Peggy’s sake.”

“I’m leaving town tomorrow, so I’ll try not to be a bother.”

“Okay.”

I looked behind me over at Bucky and waved him over. He came over to me and I put an arm around him so he could move me back over to where my crutches were.

“Thanks.” I said to him.

“Everything okay?”

“Talking to him, just opens up so much that I buried. I thought that everything with Jackson was done and then Michael is related to my best friend and he helped me through a lot of that but I’m so mad at what he did, I don’t even want to look at him. But he’s Peggy’s brother and I can’t ignore him for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah that would be kind of hard.”

“I swear it’s like I’m trying so hard to move on and every other aspect of my life wants me to stay behind.”

“Okay, well Jackson is gone, you don’t plan on seeing Michael again, so you just need to make it through the rest of the week.”

“Just tonight actually, Michael said he’s leaving town tomorrow.”

“Good, you’ll be done with him in time for filming.”

“I guess I can make it one more day.”

“You’re the strongest woman I know.”

“Thanks.”

We went through the rest of the party, couldn’t have been but an hour more, talking to Steve, Peggy, Wanda, Vision and her parents about some of the planning things that needed to be done. They talked about her dress and about finding a venue, whether or not it was going to be in London or in LA, and of course the budget.

Talking about the budget was insane. I knew that Peggy was rich but when it came to her parents paying for the wedding I swear that they must have thought that this was a royal wedding. Peggy tried to keep the budget low, not wanting to do something too big, but her parents ended up saying that they would just “see how it went.” They told Peggy not to worry about price that her and Steve could have anything they wanted.

Which was the perfect way to end that conversation and for Peggy to steal Wanda and I away for a moment.

She brought us into one of the bedrooms downstairs where there were two presents sitting on the bed.

She handed me the flat rectangular one and Wanda the small bag.

“At the same time ladies.”

So I opened the box and inside the box was the second dress that I tried on, the one that they so heavily teased me about. I took the dress out of the box and saw a note card underneath it. It read: I can’t tie the knot without you. Will you be my Maids of Honor?

I looked over at Wanda who had the same notecard as me and we both smiled back at Peggy.

“Of course.” I said first.

“I would love to.” Wanda said after me.

We both stepped forward and brought Peggy into a group hug.

“So what do you think of your presents?”

I held up the dress and held it up against me.

“No matter what you guys said about it, this was always a great dress. Thank you. What did you get Wanda?”

“Well I got movie vouchers, a gift card for a very fancy restaurant and a gift card for a lingerie store.”

“Third date essentials.”

“Oh my god.” She said with a laugh.

“It would seem that someone is more concerned with getting us laid than anything else.”

“Well it wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’re crazy.” I said, folding the dress back up and neatly putting it in the box.

“Crazy about you guys...my maids of honor.”

“This is going to be a long wedding.” I said to Wanda and we both laughed.

“I haven’t even had the chance to practice my bridezilla mode, yet.”

“Let’s hope that side doesn’t come out.” Wanda said. 

“We still have a long time before the big day.”

“I just can’t see you as a bridezilla.” I commented. 

“Honestly me either, but I think I should at least do it once...for the experience.”

“Let’s go back to the party.” Wanda and I just laughed at her and then made our way back over to the boys with gifts in hand.

“Hey.” Steve said to Peggy.

“Well now that the girls are back and your mom has released me from my duties for the night, I am going to head home. I’ve got to be up for filming super early because they cancelled the scenes I was supposed to shoot for the party.” Bucky said to the group.

“Well thanks for being here, I know it was hard to move around your schedule.” Steve said giving him a hug and then Bucky moved to Peggy, giving her one too.

“I wouldn’t have missed it.” Then he turned to Vision and Wanda. “Vision it was nice to meet you and Wanda, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He shook Vision’s hand again and gave Wanda a hug.

“Bright and Early.” She said. Then he turned to me. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the side of my head.

“I will also see you tomorrow.” He said to me.

“Not bright and early though, because I will be at the studio.”

“Still tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky left after that and it didn’t take long for Wanda, Vision and I to want to duck out too. I was hugging Steve goodbye when Michael walked over to us, clearly waiting to follow me home.

Peggy looked at my strangely and came over to me as Wanda and Vision said goodbye to Steve.

“You know that dress, the one that you look hot in?”

“You gave it to me.”

“If I find out you wore that for my brother, I’m never going to talk to you again.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

“Good, because that is strictly for you and Bucky to enjoy.”

“Whatever you say.”

“It is my life goal to see the two of you together.”

“That’s low, you’re a top rated lawyer and your number one goal is getting me—”

“I was being sarcastic...mostly.”

“Shut up.” I pulled her into my arms and gave her a hug before the three of us started to walk away, Michael following close behind us.

I turned to Michael as I climbed into the car.

“You can just follow us.”

“Okay.” He walked over to his car leaving me alone with Wanda and Vision.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asked as soon as we were alone and driving.

“At the moment? Sitting in your car.”

“No...I mean with Michael.”

“There is nothing going on there. He needs a couch to sleep on and he asked me if he could sleep on mine. And in the interest of continuing my friendship with Peggy I have decided to curb my hatred for him to try to be civil, for Peggy’s sake.”

“You hate him?”

“Of course I hate him! God, he broke my heart. I loved him and he disappeared. I tried for days to hear from him to get any sign that he was even alive and despite the time difference he could have at least texted and told me that he landed or made it home or really anything. I can’t even tell you the amount of times I just assumed that Jackson had gotten to him. It finally got so bad that I called Asa and told him everything. That I left UCLA, moved to Austin, and everything about Michael. I was so paranoid that I begged Asa to find something to make sure that Jackson hadn’t done anything to him.  You want to know what it took to make sure he was okay?”

“What?”

“One phone call, to his mother. That was all it took to verify that he was alive and that I had gone crazy.”

“Y/N, you didn’t go crazy. I mean you were married to a psychopath, I probably would have assumed that he had something to do with it too.”

“I spent so much time after he left trying to come up with scenarios that he was ok. I even blamed myself thinking I had said something in my texts or in my voicemails but I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he just stopped talking to me. That’s what my grandparents and Jackson did to me, they made me second guess everything. So yes I hate him for reminding me of exactly what happened to me and for making me fall in love with him when I never wanted to and for being Peggy’s brother. I have to relive everything when I see him, so don’t think for one second that this is something that I want to do. This is something I have to do to be friends with Peggy.”

“I’m sorry.” She said. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”

“No, I feel like yelling and I know my neighbors wouldn’t appreciate that so I’m just going to go to bed and hope for the best tomorrow. And you have to be at work early.”

“You’re my best friend and if you need me I’m there.”

“Unfortunately I think I need to do this alone.”

“Ok. But I’m bringing you coffee in the morning.”

“Well I won’t stop you from doing that.” Her and Vision both laughed at me.

They dropped me off in front of my apartment after I let Clyde know that I had someone sleeping over tonight. I got out of the car and waved goodbye before they drove away. I started making my way up the stairs as Michael parked his rental; he quickly came up behind me.

“Let me help you.” He put his hands on my arms, but I pulled away from him.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

He stayed behind me as I made my way upstairs and waited for me to unlock the door. I immediately walked into my bedroom and grabbed some spare sheets and a pillow for him, placing them on the couch.

“I know that you’re mad at me but I would really like—”

“I don’t want to talk right now. I am exhausted and there are a lot of things that have to be said, so I’m going to wait to do this in the morning where I am less likely to get the cops called on me.”

“Okay.”

Then I left him alone in the living room, closing the door behind me. I got undressed, putting on the coziest pajamas I owned, and wiped off my makeup before I climbed into bed. I grabbed my phone and looked at it, wanting to talk to Bucky, just to feel less mad, but decided against texting him because he was probably asleep.

I plugged it in and set it down on my bedside table but picked it back up when it buzzed.

BUCKY: You awake?

YN: Unfortunately

BUCKY: Just wanted to make sure you got home okay I smiled at the text before I responded, automatically feeling better.

YN: I did. Thanks

BUCKY: Are you in bed?

YN: Yeah. Trying to calm myself down, the whole Michael thing has me pretty mad.

BUCKY: I’m sorry.

YN: It’s not your fault he’s an idiot

BUCKY: I bet I can distract you

YN: Can you?

BUCKY: What are you wearing? 😏

I stared at the text for a long time. He didn’t mean what I thought he meant by that, right? He couldn’t possibly think that sexting me was going to distract me or make me feel any better.

BUCKY: Y/N?

BUCKY: Hey I was just kidding. Just trying to be funny. I obviously took it too far. I’m sorry.

YN: It’s okay. I’m just going to go to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

BUCKY: Goodnight Y/N

YN: Goodnight Bucky

I put my phone back on the bedside table and turned away from it, opting to not answer any more texts.

I woke up to my alarm and hesitantly picked up the smell of food being cooked...in my kitchen. I climbed out of bed and walked out into the living room, seeing that Michael wasn’t sleeping but in my kitchen cooking food.

“Good morning.” He called out. I walked over to him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m cooking you breakfast. I was hoping to get done before you woke up so I could bring it to you, but since you’re already here, grab a seat and I’ll serve you.”

“No.”

“Y/N, you sure do make it hard for a man to woo you.”

“Woo me? Letting you stay with me was nothing more than me being nice. This was never about you getting the opportunity to wiggle your way back into my life.”

“I know that you’re mad at me, but I came here to win you back. To show you that I’m different now and I can be better than I was before. I just need you to give me—”

“No. I hate you! You don’t get to just show up after eight years and find me waiting for you. You left and never talked to me again. I thought you were dead, I thought my ex-husband had killed you, I thought so many things trying to come up with some explanation for why you would completely give up on something good. And I never got one!”

“There were things happening—”

“No! That’s not an excuse for not letting someone you love know that you were okay! And the fact that you would ever think that I would give you another chance is absolutely ridiculous.”

“It’s not that ridiculous. What we had was good. We loved each other and I know I messed up, but I still love you and if you could give me a second chance I feel that I could prove to you that you can love me again too.” He reached out to hold my face in his hands but I pulled away.

“No. No, I...I can’t. You broke my heart and every time I see you I think of everything that I’ve ever been through. You were the first person that I loved after the nightmare that my ex-husband made me live. I will always be grateful that you helped me through that, even though you had no idea, but I never want to see you again. And I know that’s not possible because we are both a part of Peggy’s life, but dating you again would be a mistake. If the boy I loved is still in there than I know that you deserve to be happy but I’m the last person who could ever make you happy.”

“I just don’t believe that.”

“Well you’re going to have to.”

“What can I do to convince you?”

“There’s nothing you can do!”

“I still love you!”

“I’m in love with someone else!”

I took in a deep breath. I just said that out loud. And God if it wasn’t the best feeling in the world. I felt like everything had just amplified to even a higher level. I felt like there was nothing in the world that could bring me down. I tried my hardest to hide the smile that came to my lips.

“Is it Barnes?”

“You don’t get to know. You have no right to my life anymore and you need to leave.”

“So that’s it? You’re going to give up on what we had?” I ushered him back to the living room where he started to collect his things.

“That’s it. And I’m pretty sure you did that.”

“Yeah but I made a mistake.”

“Yeah you did because I’m awesome and you have to live with the fact that you lost something amazing. And now I am in love with someone else and he is...incredible and everything I could ever want.”

“That’s great.” He mumbled.

“And I need you to leave so that I can get ready for work.”

“Right.”

He gathered his things in his bag and headed for the door, I following him. He opened the front door of the apartment and I held the door as he turned around to look at me one last time.

“I’m never going to forget you.”

“My advice...please do. I was serious before and even though I hate you, you do deserve to be happy. So forget about me and find someone who can actually do that for you, because it’s not me.”

“Goodbye Y/N.”

“Goodbye Michael.”

Then I closed the door behind him, physically and metaphorically. What a great way to start the morning.

BUCKY’S POV

I pulled up to Y/N’s apartment with two cups of coffee in the drink holders and a practiced apology in my head.

Before I sent that text I knew it had been a bad idea and yet I had still sent it. But I figured at the very least I could bring her a cup of coffee and try to make it right, knowing that we both had a long day ahead of us and knowing that I felt so bad about that text that I barely slept.

I pulled up to an empty parking spot opposite of where I saw Y/N’s car parked and climbed out, reaching for the cups of coffee. But I heard voices coming from one of the apartments and looked up instead of grabbing the coffees. I saw Y/N in her pajamas talking to someone with a bag slung over there shoulder, door opened, as if the two were saying goodbye. She turned back and went inside, closing the door behind her. When the man turned around you could say I was pretty upset?

What was Michael doing at Y/N’s apartment?

PART TEN 

Tell Me What You Think Here

Tags: @fangirl1802, @seargantbcky, @lust-for-pan, @38leticia, @barnes-and-noble-girl, @karipaleta, @capandbuck, @camillechan, @findacauseandserveit, @audasia25, @kendallefire , @alicerozenju, @snuggleducky, @mell-bell, @lifeasabookbutterfly, @the-red-world-of-jess-chibi, @iamwarrenspeace, @ssweet-empowerment, @chook007 , @juliagolia87, @jjsoccer11, @smol-flower-kiddo, @mrsdaamneron, @isaxhorror, @barnesism

[bellaciaobitch]

ESCAPAR

Summary: AU | Raquel decides to stay with Sergio instead of visiting Angel in the hospital, afraid she will get arrested in the process. So she ends up escaping with the gang and has to learn how to live as a fugitive.   [AO3] [spirit]

Chapter 6 - En casa

Sergio spent the rest of the travel behind the navy blue curtains and Raquel supposed he needed his space, because so did she. Instead of going after him, she let the slumber of the sleep take her over one more time and woke up a little after dawn, with the plane landing in Switzerland.

She watched curiously, by the plane’s window, the professor climbing down the stairs and talking to a strong man in black suit, arms crossed and sunglasses on. The security waited for him beside an black motorcycle and only nodded when Sergio gave him quick instructions, watching his boss put on the helmet and leave in the vehicle.

The man, Raquel found later, was Juan, her private body guard hired by Sergio with specific orders to “keep her safe” when he wasn’t around. But she got the message between the lines. He was making sure she wouldn’t do another impulsive selfish plan that could risk everyone else’s lives. She felt quite offended by his decision and huffed when the man picked her up inside the plane.

Juan escorted her to the clandestine airport’s garage, where she was guided to a fancy dark-gray BMW that made Raquel roll her eyes. She tried to make him speak about where Sergio went or what was he doing in Zürich but he ignored her questions the whole way, driving slow through the streets and only repeating that he was taking her to a safe point until Sergio was back.

It was a beautiful winter morning in Zürich. The tiny neighborhoods they crossed by car were very similar to Madrid in the first hours of the morning: the streets were empty, grass in backyards still wet from last night’s pouring and birds sang on top of the trees, completing the peacefulness in the air. The deem rays of sun sneaked through the clouds and reflected on the windows of the car, touching Raquel’s skin. But she didn’t felt warm at all. Not without him, anyway.

They stopped in front of a building just exactly like every other residence in the street. So common and familiar that nobody would spot a recent billionaire and his hostage, staying on a house like that. Raquel frowned, glancing at Juan through the rear view mirror and back at the cute little structure.

“Home sweet home” he said. “Home?” she laughed, ironically. He didn’t commented, just pulled a key from his suit pocket and handed it to her. “Apartment 103. He says you can decide if I should stay inside the car or enter the building with you.”

Raquel smirked. It was very much like Sergio to make sure she didn’t step out of the line but still give her some free will. “You can stay, I’ll let you know if I need anything”

She closed the car door behind her before Juan could say anything else and quickly entered through the front door of the building, curiosity shining in her eyes. There was no doorman and no elevators so she took the stairs to the first floor, easily spotting the apartment.

When she turned the key on the door, she didn’t know what was expecting. A immaculate hidden mansion or maybe another dark humid hangar. But definitely not a humble, sweet home as that was. The wooden vintage furniture combined in with the painted light blue walls, adorning by the grey curtains and rug. It was so…domestic. And, even though not big, very much cozy. So familiar that seemed like it was already being habited by someone: there was pans, plates and bowls on the kitchen, food on the fridge and new clothes on the closets.

She took off her shoes and placed the keys on the corner table, next to a jar of white daisies. She wondered if he chose the place with her in mind or if it was just part of his plans, from before the escaping. If it was the first option, he knew her very well because the place was perfect. She could clearly see Paula running around the long corridor, showing her new drawings, Maribi knitting while her telenovelas was on TV and Sergio cooking dinner because Raquel always insisted on burning the meal.

The image was very vivid in her head but Raquel felt sad. The silly smile dropping from her lips. Yes, it was very sweet. But it couldn't erase everything nor change what was done. That house wouldn't teletransport her daughter and her mother, or magically fix things between them. But, most importantly, the house was temporary, as everything in their relationship. And just like that, a cozy residence in a street of Zurich became a ghost house to Raquel.

***

“Raquel?” Sergio called when he opened the door to see the house in deep darkness. It was a little past sunset when the meeting with the swiss bankers ended. He had a few contacts in Switzerland who made possible the discreet deposit of almost one billion euros, properly laundered, in a safe bank account.

He also could split the money with all of the six thieves, transferring big amounts to different accounts, and pay all the extra expenses of the operation, such as the millions to everyone who helped them inside and outside the royal mint. Be a jerk, but a jerk with an honor, as his brother liked to say.

All that process took hours of negotiations and in the end, Sergio felt tired. But, riding his motorcycle fast in the streets of Switzerland, not even the jet lag of the trip could make him not think about everything that happened the day before.

Andres’ death kept on rewinding behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes, his last words muffled by the sounds of shots and then the tunnel explosion. He was his whole family and now he is gone without even the chance to bury him or honor his name. He played the scene over and over inside her mind, trying to figure out something that he could do to save him but there was nothing. Only guilt and lonelyness. 

That was also why he wasn’t ready to talk yet, when she woke up on the plane. Sergio was lost and hurting so he needed time. To cry for his brother, to worry about the theives, to think about what happened and to plan their next moves. He brushed his fingers through his hair, wiped his teary eyes and thought about them. About the huge euforia that was to even look at her and the haven he found every time he touched her lips with his. Sergio laughed bitterly, thinking about the coincidence between his situation and the Wizard of Oz. It was just a childish movie but he knew how the wizard felt, great and powerful playing the character when nobody could see him. But there, he just wanted to be the man behind the curtain.

He reflected about how Raquel’s dubious actions made him feel very insecure of their relationship and which side she really was. But he wished it didn’t matter, though. He wished there wasn’t sides to choose or heists to plan or money to split. And, that night, with the motocycle snoring and the wind blowing on his face, everything he needed was the remedy only her arms could offer.

He spotted her sitting on the couch, hugging her knees against her chest and smoking a cigarette. She probably showered because her hair was still wet and she got rid of the summer dress, tucking her body inside a fluffy white robe.

Sergio noticed she hesitated when their eyes met but continued seated, turning her glance back to the TV. On the big screen, a Swiss journalist explained the causes and consequences of a rebellion in the center city of Madrid, where people raised posters with protesting messages wearing Dalí masks identical as the ones the thieves used inside the Royal Mint. On the little screen of the notebook by her side, he recognized a very familiar room, but now the usually messy bed was made, the furniture were cleaned and the curtains opened, the sun shining on the little blond girl, playing with her dolls on the carpet.

He sighed and closed the door behind him without saying a word. Then he took his time taking off his shoes, hanging the coat and the black helmet near the door entrance.

“Did you let your dog out?” she asked without look at him and referring to Juan, who was still waiting outside when Sergio finally got to the house.

“I’m sorry, Raquel, I know you don’t like to…”

“Don’t you ever do that again. Do you hear me? EVER” she looked at him, eyes fulminating in anger. Sergio sighed one more time.

“Listen to me, I’m sorry ok? I know I seem to ruin everything always but what else can I say? I already apologized a thousand times since Toledo and this time I was trying to protect you!”

“No, you were trying to control me!” she started to raise her voice “Like you did before as a professor, manipulating me so things would go exactly as you wanted”

“Yeah, well, you must know how it feels then, because that was exactly what you did on the docks!” his chest was raising frantically as he lost his temper

“Fuck you!” Raquel cursed and put out the cigarette on an ashray on the coffee table “I was trying to save the very last of reputation I had left, after you ruined everything. I was trying to fix my life to stay with you”

“You were trying to fix your life by risking everyone else’s? By risking my life? Is that the kind of hero you want to be?”

“You would have done the same!” Raquel was screaming now, pointing a finger in his direction “All you cared about was that stupid plan”

“No, I wouldn’t. Because I’m in love you, I would never put you in that kind of danger” his breathe was uneaven and he nervously adjusted his glasses, a little afraid that she would slap him for saying he loved her one more time.

Raquel stood up abruptly, and closed her fists to desguise her trembling in rage. Every single time Sergio told her he loved her, she felt anxious and this time wasn’t any different. She felt bad because she just couldn’t say it back, without believing that it would become a curse and it would hurt everyone around her. The woman's heart started racing with fear, remembering all the traumas those four letters brought in the past. It was supposed to be sweet but whenever he said that, she felt as if it was a warning that things between them could fall apart again, as a castle of sand. She walked around the room nervously and when she spoke again, her voice was shaky and lower.

“Things are fucking chaotic out there, police is everywhere in Europe looking for you. Fuck, your name is on interpol even!” she pointed to the Tv and he saw Tokyo’s face on the screen. He adjusted his glasses on his nose again and she continued “But you must know that because you have everything planned right? You must also have planned to spent the day circling on your cool motorcycle with MY gun hanging on your waistband while I was stuck here with that robot you call bodyguard, not knowing where you were of if you were ok...”

Raquel gasped. Don't cry now, he mind demanded, you have to be strong. It was the closest Raquel could get from an “I love you too” while in her angry state. She hoped he got the message. Her speech meant she was angry and sad and terrified all at the same time but she loved him deeply and cared about him. It meant that she was sad that they had to fight so much and all she wanted was to stop feeling a lump in her throat everytime she remembered everything that happened because she wanted to do what he said on the plane. She wanted to stop being inspector and just be Raquel while he would just be Sergio.

But Raquel was never good with words. And when Sergio stood up, ready to rebuke her speach she didn’t ask for permission to cross the distance between them and pull him into a kiss, pressing her lips hard against his.

“I was so worried” she said and hugged him tight, breathing in his neck, as he recovered from initial shock.

“I am here now” Sergio said, with a half simile. He was getting used to her unexpected acts of affection or aggression, it was one of the many things he loved about her. And he was starting to crave her touch so much he really appreciated the gesture. Caressing her lower back he leaned back to search for her mouth and kissed properly this time, feeling her muscles melt in his arms, opening and closing her lips in sync with his own. Slowly, things became more urgent and dirty as their tongues danced together and she pushed him back to the couch, begging for the feeling that only his body on hers could produce.

Raquel sucked his bottom lip and he groaned in response. The plan was to take her to the bedroom but when he sat down with her straddling his lap, and she started to untie her robe’s knot, he knew it was about time to stop making plans.

And finally, for the first time that day, they both felt at home.