#august is always a busy month for me and July has been so hot I can’t think
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sitp-recs · 4 months ago
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July reads ☀️
Happy August! Last month was incredibly busy so I thought of doing a lil July wrapped to celebrate the few treats I got to chance to indulge. They kept my fandom flame alive and gave me a much needed comfort during a really stressful time, so I’m beyond grateful to these works and authors. What about you, what have you been reading lately?
��� A Two-Fold Light by @lqtraintracks (E, 2k) - Teddy/Draco, Drarry, future Tedrarry
Teddy is hot, in all that statement's permutations. Or: Everybody's falling in love with one another.
🤠 Your Hot Hands by @starquestingfordrarry (E, 7.5k)
Draco always wanted to know where Harry Potter disappeared to. This is not what he expected.
🩲 If The Boxers Fit (A Cinderella Story) by @lettersbyelise (E, 8k)
When Draco ends up shagging a hot, mysterious stranger in a broken Ministry lift and is left with nothing but a sexy pair of red boxers to remember them by, Draco’s friends go sleuthing.
🪞 Crush by @citrusses (E, 8k)
Harry Potter has a secret admirer. Harry's pretty sure that if this person figures out what an idiot he's capable of making of himself, they'll lose interest. So he turns to Draco Malfoy, reformed nemesis and stylish lawyer, for guidance.
🚙 ready, able by @garagepaperback (E, 9.5k)
“Well, even if we went through with it, it wouldn’t work. But thanks for the grand heroic rushing in. A certain element of purity is needed to break it." Malfoy licks his lips, "You’d have to be a virgin.” Malfoy has a problem, Harry wants to help.
⚖️ When the Flood Comes, Anonymous (E, 10k)
Nine years on from the war, Auror Potter is upholding the Ministry of Magic's rule of law. Senior legal counsel Draco Malfoy is challenging it. And absolutely nothing is as it seems.
🇫🇷 The most he’s ever said, Anonymous (E, 16k)
It takes them twenty years.
🩸 on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi (E, 25k)
Speaking to Draco is like poking a beehive - and Harry is a glutton for punishment. In which Harry makes some serious blunders and then tries to fix it. Somehow.
📓 this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback (E, 94k)
winter, 2002: Draco Malfoy is absolutely fine, thank you very much. summer, 2008: Harry Potter is, er- well, not good exactly, but definitely better. Yeah. Better than before. A love story told in two somewhat unreliable parts, over six years.
Bonus: WIP I’m currently reading
🎄 Heavenstruck! by @epitomereally (E)
One and a half years after the war, Draco Malfoy shows up to the Burrow for Christmas.
Next on my list!
🏠 Two Houses, Anonymous (E, 11k)
Two households, both alike in... meddling Floo connections, apparently? Draco Malfoy is a highly professional and well-respected Ministry official, with a demanding schedule, a loving son, and—through no fault of his own—a faulty Floo connection that keeps regurgitating the Minister for Magic through his fireplace.
🪩 Closing Time, Anonymous (E, 18k)
Draco’s been invited to Neville’s stag party in Bristol, and he's confident he knows what to expect. There’ll be too many Gryffindors, for starters, plus a few humiliating team-building activities, some dodgy clubs, and a truly preposterous level of alcohol consumption. But… a drunken Harry Potter climbing into Draco's bed when he’s having a wank? No, he definitely didn't see that coming...
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nancypullen · 1 year ago
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Shhhh
August crept in as July went out in a blaze and, as usual, August has been still.  Isn’t the first week of this month almost always calm? The bugs seem to sing louder because everything else hushes.  I’ve always wondered what the animal kingdom knows that we don’t. The early harvests have started and farmers are busy; even in home gardens some crops are looking middle-aged and tired.  Flowers are still showing off, they’ll fight to the bitter end of that first frost. Oh, the thought of a frost thrills me.  BUT, I’m grateful for the break in that long string of hot July days. I won’t long for frost I’m going to appreciate forecasts like this.
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Do you see that high temp for Friday? Oh. happy day!  I’m not a fool (often) I know this probably won’t last.  August isn’t afraid to just copy July, but let’s be aware that we are just 27 days from the “ber” months.
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Yesterday I opened the drawer that holds my sweaters and whispered, “Soon...” Another reason to look forward to months that end in ber is that I finally managed to snag a doctor’s appointment!  Well, not a doctor, a nurse practitioner.  I much prefer to see someone who has been through a rigorous med school, a life-changing residency, and perhaps even a fellowship...but beggars can’t be choosers and my name finally came up for an appointment on September 25th.  It’s very hard to establish yourself as a new patient here, so I may arrive with gifts.  I’ll let her know that I’ll rarely darken her door, I just need yearly bloodwork and a mammogram, that’s it.  I’m no trouble.  Well I didn’t used to be, our first year here was a bit of a bear.  I’m hoping that’s all behind us now. Anywho, I’m just about two months from having medical care!  Around here that’s reason to celebrate. I should make a cake. Another reason to celebrate is that I’ve got sunflowers blooming left and right. My view out the kitchen window this morning.
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I thought that Crape Myrtle tree was never going to bloom. It finally burst into flower July 31st.  That’s when I spotted the first blooms, and it’s been going like gangbusters for the last few days.   Really, none of the gardens truly filled in until mid-July.  I’m 725 miles further north than I used to be, sounds like I need to adjust my expectations.  I still have a lot to learn.  The arboretum is having a fall plant sale and I’d like to fill my front bed with purple coneflower. That seems to be reliable around here.  Black-eyed Susan is the state flower so it probably wouldn’t hurt to grab a couple of those too.  Besides, both of those flowers remind me of the prairie, and whether I’m in Alaska, Tennessee, or Maryland’s Eastern Shore, I’m forever a bonnet head.
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Yep, that definitely feels more like me. So I’ll be planting prairie flowers.  Why not?
In keeping with the hurry-up-and-wait theme, we have at last received an installation date for flooring in the upstairs bathrooms. Friday, August 11th - hallelujah! Feels like progress.  I haven’t made any progress at all finding my place here. But I will, I will.  I want so much to volunteer at the library.  I’ve approached them twice with that offer, sharing my background of working in the school library and all that.  I got the same response each time.
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Seriously, I’d expect the same reaction if I greeted them and said, “I like to bite worms in half.”  I’ve become paranoid. Do I stink? Is it because I look like a granny? Am I speaking gibberish?  Apparently that’s not going to be my place.  What a shame, I’ve always found such safety and camaraderie in libraries. I’ve actually considered selling makeup.  I mean, it’s something I know and I’d probably meet like-minded women (if they exist here).  Beauty Counter is a great company, I just really, really don’t want to get involved in any of those MLM schemes. If you’ve ever been stalked by a Mary Kay lady, you’ll understand.  I suppose I’ll just keep being a hermit lady instead.   I’m still hoping to be ready to take some stuff to the Artisans on the Choptank on September 16.  I may have underestimated what it takes to be ready.  I have to be licensed and have a tax number, and I have to have a good way to display everything.  I’ve found plenty of DIY plans for earring and card displays, we’ll see if I can get it all done. If I don’t make that one the next one is December 2nd.  That’s fine, BUT...knowing which market to prepare for is critical.  If I can be ready for September’s then I should be cranking out autumn colored and Halloween earrings.  If it’s December’s market I should be doing winter and Christmas stuff. I don’t want to use up tons of supplies building a fall inventory and not get my tax number in time or something.  Yikes!  What to do what to do? I’ve been busy making earrings in the local high school colors, those might sell in any season. Go, Bulldogs!  Oh well enough of this nonsense.  I’ll sum it all up by saying some things are looking up, some things are disappointing, and hope springs eternal.  In other words, life is behaving like life.   I’m off to soak in a bath and then take the kitties to bed. We’ve got a busy weekend ahead.  The Edgewater gang is coming over and we’ll have some laughs with them. The following weekend we’ll have Little Miss to ourselves while her parents have a bit of an escape, then it’s headlong into the school year.  I can’t believe that she’s starting kindergarten.  I’ve been picking up little dresses (she insists on only wearing dresses) and even some cute shoes to add to her school wardrobe.  These Livie & Luca shoes sparkle!
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They’re so soft and will look cute while taking a beating on the playground.
Okay, I really am off to the bathtub now.  There are lavender bubbles calling my name and a book that needs my attention.  I just started The Shallows by Holly Craig. It’s one of those “first reads�� from Amazon.  Prime members get early access (for free!) to a new book.  All genres are offered and I can almost always find something enjoyable.   This one isn’t my usual fare, but I’m two chapters in and I don’t hate it.  The jury is still out though. Have a lovely evening, dear people.  Rest, relax, do something nice for yourself. I’ll come back tomorrow with more meaningless babble and we’ll chat again. Sending out loads of love grab what you need. Stay safe, stay well.
XOXO, Nancy 
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capaciousllextremis · 2 years ago
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I’m alive I swear I’ve just been busy and tired
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tangledstarlight · 3 years ago
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oh all of this silence and patience (oh im pining in anticipation)
listen it’s still august in some timezones so this totally counts as posting something in august okay? okay! i hope people like this, it took me far too long to finish, but also special shoutout to the wonderful @ourstarscollided​ who really helped me with the whole first section of this fic, without her i truly would still be working on it, so thank you eunice, you’re the best!💜 okay enjoy! 
the first firefighter!luke fic for anyone who wants to read that first, though it can be read alone: ao3 / tumblr
also on ao3!
lil disclaimer: i’m still not a firefighter and i also know that they dont use fire poles anymore but lets just ✨pretend✨ for the visual okay. this takes place between part 4 and 5 in the original fic!
trigger warnings! lots of swearing, implied sexual content.
RATED T –– there’s no graphic scenes but there’s a lot of kissing and fading to black, so rating might change if anyone needs me to 😬
Word count: 6,072
“Look who it is!”
Julie feels a grin pull up on the corners of her mouth as she spots Luke’s station captain coming around the end of one of the fire trucks Julie is walking between, sending her a wave of the clipboard she’s holding. “You’re here early.”
“Yeah, class ended early and I thought I'd pop over to see if I could get some extra time with Luke,” Julie shrugs, holding up the pale grey burlap bag that Alex had packed their food into.
And there’s a sympathetic look that crosses over Harrison’s face, because she knows that the younger woman knows she’s in charge of Luke’s shifts and the reason why Julie comes over every Tuesday to have lunch with her boyfriend.
Because that’s why she was here. To have lunch with him like she did every Tuesday between her classes and when the fires of LA would allow. Sometimes Alex would text her to stop by to pick up a packed lunch for them, sometimes she made something herself, sometimes they just ordered in. The food wasn’t really the point, it was just getting to spend some time together. Julie had never really thought about it before, but there was always something, someone, somewhere, trapped or hurt or on fire. Luke was a very busy person, and it meant sometimes their lunches got interrupted by blaring alarms and him pressing a quick kiss to her lips before rushing off.
Tuesdays were apparently very busy days for a firefighter.
“What’s the master chef prepared for you this week then?” Harrison asks, crossing her arms and clipboard across her chest and lifting one brow, “Y’know Alex used to cook for us, he’d send Luke in every Saturday he was on shift with all sorts of goodies.”
Julie bites her lip to try not to laugh at the exaggerated sigh that leaves the older woman's lips as she shakes her head sadly. There was something about Vivian Harrison that just— put people at ease. The first time Julie had officially met her there had been a warm hug and teasing remarks and there was just something that had viscerally reminding Julie of her aunt Victoria that it was kind of impossible not to like the station captain after that.
“He was pretty busy so it’s just some sandwiches,” she wrinkles her nose a little before smiling, “I’ll tell him how much you’re missing his cooking though, I’m sure the blame will fall completely on Luke.”
Harrison laughs, and tilts her head slightly as she shrugs, “That boy of yours is just very easy to blame.”
She feels a sudden flush to her cheeks at ‘that boy of yours’ that she hopes can be played off by how warm it always is in the station. She can see Harrison’s lips twitching, like she’s about to say something teasing, but Julie is saved from it by two people walking past them and a change of mind.
“Morales, can you tell Patterson his lunch is here.”
“Sure thing Cap,” one of the guys says, shooting her a wide smile that Julie feels compelled to return quickly before he’s rushing off, past the fire engines and up some stairs. And Julie’s about to ask Harrison if they’ve been busy today and if she’d found time to visit the farmers market they’d talked about last time, but another voice interrupts, and Julie hadn’t even realised the other guy hadn’t followed his friend.
“So you’re Patterson’s girl, right?” The blonde asks, eyes scanning her up and down in a way that makes her want to hide behind someone. There’s something vaguely familiar about him, probably because she’s seen him in passing for the last couple of months but never talked to him. Which wouldn’t have been weird if most of the other people in the station hadn’t introduced themselves the first time Luke had invited her to one of their station parties, and made an effort to talk to her whenever she'd stopped by since.
“Yeah, I’m Julie,” she smiles politely, trying to put emphasis on her name. She doesn't mind being known as Luke's girl by people at the station who have actually made an effort to get to know her. 
“Right, right, nice to meet you Julie. I’m Nick, I’m sure Luke’s mentioned me,” he grins, teeth showing and shoulders pulling back like he’s expecting her to — what? Clap? A small furrow works its way between her brows as Nick starts up a conversation without even waiting for her response and she suddenly understands what Luke means about him. Because he has mentioned the condescending, stereotypical blonde frat boy before, and never in a good way. It was mostly followed by some very creative swear words and a mumbled ‘he’s going to get either himself or one of us really hurt one day’.
She tries to follow along with the conversation, nodding politely and laughing whenever Harrison forces one out, but Nick only seems interested in talking about himself, and normally she can feign interest, but right now all she wants is to talk to one person in particular.
There’s the sound of too many voices heading in their direction and Julie turns around, eyes searching for one person, but all she’s met with is a collection of firefighters she vaguely knows and tries not to let her disappointment show too clearly on her face.
“Wow Molina, don’t look so excited to see us!” An elbow nudges her side and Julie glances up to see Carrie Wilson has appeared in the place that Nick had just stood, eyebrows raised and a blinding smile as the other blonde frowns from behind her, still trying to carry on his conversation.
“No! I am glad to see you all it’s just—” Julie starts, eyes a little wide as she looks at the other girl because Carrie had only ever been nice to her, but Luke had a lot of stories about the blonde being ruthless and rude to people she was mildly inconvenienced by.
(One of Luke’s favourite stories was about Carrie loudly telling some girl that Nick was flirting with how he had used the same lines on her two months before. Luke told it every chance he could get, sparing no details on the look of horror that has taken over Nick’s face.)
“You’re here for Patterson,” Carrie cuts her off with a wink, elbow nudging her lightly again, “Don’t worry, we all know. He should be down soon.” There’s something about how she says it that raises more questions than answers for Julie, furrow between her brows and mouth opening to comment when Carrie just nods her head behind her, and Julie turns around to spot Luke.
It’s impossible, Julie knows it’s impossible, but she could swear time slows down. Like she’s in some rom-com movie where the main character sees their love interest for the first time.
Only she’s not in a film, she’s stood next to a fire engine and trying to care about what the people around her are talking about and it’s far from the first time she’s seen the love interest. But the world still feels like it’s in slow motion all the same as she looks up as Luke calls her name from the second floor, grinning at her from over the banister and holding up one hand in that universal signal for ‘wait’.
And Julie waits, not that she could really do anything else with the firehouse blurring at the edges and Nick's voice fading into the background. Focus entirely on Luke.
She’s never seen someone slide down the pole before, didn’t even know that they still used them in firehouses, but Julie’s pretty sure it shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Though, she supposes, it could just be Luke. His hand wraps around the metal and Julie swallows as her eyes are drawn to his arms, to where his top pulls tight and his forearms are on show. If this was a film, there’d be some stereotypical song about sex playing in the background right about now. All her slightly hazy brain can supply is the chorus to Lady Marmalade on repeat. His legs wrapped around the pole, ankles crossed and thighs pressed together, comes into view as he slides down the metal, all cool and in control, and Julie's throat goes dry.
She knows how much strength it takes to slide down a pole. Her and Flynn had taken a few pole dancing classes a few years ago in an attempt to add some sort of exercise into their day. Julie can still remember how much her arms ached and the bruises that littered the insides of her thighs after even the simplest of moves.
It was hard, and Luke was making it look so easy.
His feet hit the ground, and even though she’s too far away to actually hear it, she’s pretty sure they must make some sort of thudding sound. Because that’s what happens, right? You slide down the pole and your feet hit the floor with a thud that shows you’re ready for action. Only Luke isn’t going off to put on his uniform and fight a fire or save a life.
He’s walking towards her, suspenders swaying and smile widening and eyes never leaving her face.
And look, she knows that she’s seen Luke fully naked, fresh out of a shower or panting on his back. But seeing him slide down that fucking pole in his white t-shirt, suspenders by his knees and hair a mess? Hottest thing she has ever seen. And he knows it if the way his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he gets closer is anything to go by.
“How long did it take you to practice all that, Patterson?” Carrie asks, and Julie can hear the teasing tone in her voice and would normally enjoy seeing Luke stammer and blush, but right now she’s the one feeling too warm and is pretty sure if she started speaking right now all that would come out would be a high pitched noise.
“About the same amount of time it takes you to do your hair,” is his easy reply and Julie watches as Carrie rolls her eyes, hair flipping over her shoulder, and because he’s momentarily not looking at her, Julie tries to pull her thoughts together. To get a hold of herself. This is not the first time she has seen him in his uniform, she has seen in him in far less, and she will not turn into a blushing mess right now!
“Alright you lot, back to work!” Harrison interrupts before anyone can say anything else, and everyone starts walking away, some nudging Luke as they go, some giving her a wave, and she thinks she must smile back, at least she hopes she does. Her brain is still very much focused on Luke and how his thighs probably looked coming down that pole without the heavy duty trousers. “You tell Alex I’m still a fan of the flapjack he makes,” Harrison says as she walks past, dropping an eye into a wink and giving Luke a look she doesn’t understand.
A tense smile pulls at Julie’s lips that she hopes comes across as genuine and not just her unable to speak because of her incredibly hot and infuriatingly knows it boyfriend.
“You alright, Jules? Looking a little flushed, need me to get one of the EMT’s?” Luke asks, all innocence and anything but subtle as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, teeth still chewing on his damn lip.
“Just—” she clears her throat, trying to glare up at him, but already knowing it’s ruined by the heat in her cheeks and how she can’t stop staring at his arms. God, she hasn’t been this distracted by his arms since their first date. Blowing out a breath, Julie drags her eyes away from where his arms are crossed across his chest — which, she’s like, 80% sure he’s doing on purpose right now, the little shit — and up to his face just as he raises an eyebrow at her.
“It’s just a little warm,” she finally manages to get out, raising her hand that’s clutching the reusable grocery bag too tight, “Alex sent me with lunch.”
Luke’s eyes light up at the mention of Alex and food, hands dropping from his chest to eagerly reach for the bag and Julie can’t help but giggle at how quickly he can switch from cocky to cute.
“Swee-et! Alex is best,” he grins down at her, drawing out the first syllable of the word and bobbing his head at her. “You wanna eat outside?”
Julie doesn’t respond, just nods her head and links her fingers through his empty hand, letting Luke lead her out of the fire station and to the little grassy area outside. There’s already a blanket on the ground, two bottles of water and a warmth spreads through her for a different reason as Luke pulls her down to the ground and spreads out the food Alex has given them.
They get an hour.
An hour to eat lunch and curl up together to talk and giggle and try to keep their hands visible at all times. It’s both her favourite and the most tortuous hour of her week so far. And Luke’s just leaning in to whisper something in her ear, his breath against her cheek sending shivers down her spine when the alarm starts blaring from inside and his head drops to her shoulder with a sigh that mingles with her own groan.
“I gotta go,” he mutters into the fabric of her t-shirt, and she can imagine how his lips would feel brushing against her skin if they were somewhere else right now.
“I know,” she sighs and carefully moves her shoulder so he has to lift his head up, eyes apologetic as they meet hers. “Be careful?”
“Always am,” Luke smiles gently at her and then he’s getting up and leaving her on the blanket and feeling the loss. Julie watches him go, knees pulled up to her chest and blowing him a kiss when he turns around to wave one last time like he always does when the alarm inevitably ends their lunch date early.
Which normally Julie was fine with.
He was at work. He had a job. He had an important job.
Running out in the middle of lunch was fine. And it would have been fine today, if he hadn’t slid down that damn pole and filled her head with all sorts of ideas and left her fidgeting in her seat. It doesn’t help that Luke clearly knows, if the way he presses a kiss to her forehead and mutters a sorry, eyes a little wide and promises to see her later.
Which is all well and good, but Julie can’t help but feel like he did it on purpose and wonders if there’s a way for her to make him feel just as flustered as she had an hour earlier.
//
It takes her a while to form a plan of revenge, and then it takes a while longer for her to gather all the things she needs. And okay, maybe at some point she forgets why she’s doing all this, and then Luke mentions the pole at the station and how it makes his muscles ache sometimes as he says he’s going for a shower and Julie remembers the sight of him coming down and redoubles her planning.
The hard part comes when she has to pick a day. Because she can’t lure him to her house, not while her dad is working odd hours and her brother is home and Victoria still has a tendency to show up unannounced. Which leaves finding a time when his apartment is empty.
Not an easy feat when Reggie works from home part time, and can’t actually be trusted to stick to his word when he says he’ll be out and Alex has a weekend routine he’s hard pressed to change and likes to get home from work and relax. Plus she has to check when Luke isn’t working on a weekend, which turns out to be the easiest part, because it turns out Harrison really likes her and was happy to schedule Luke a weekend off when she asked.
Sure, she could have enacted her plan while one or both of them were home too but, well Julie knows the boys are all very close, and she knows that they’ve accepted her into the closeness with welcome arms. But she’s not sure she wants to have sex while they’re eating leftover lasagna down the hall. Feels a little too close for her liking. Plus, she has a plan that might end up involving their bath and she’s not sure they’d want to be there for that.
So Julie bides her time. Changes her mind on what clothes she wants and practices different poses on her bed at night and drops little hints about a weekend alone together.
Alex makes plans first, announces that he’s going with Willie to an out of state kids skateboarding competition to help cheer on Willie’s little proteges. He makes a big deal out telling them all the dates and how they had plans to go to some couples spa on their way back and how his restaurant would be ‘more than happy to supply any meals for two that you two might want’.
It had gone over Luke’s head, just nodding and asking about the competition. But Julie had gotten the hint.
And then a few days later Reggie said he had ‘big plans’ with her dad and brother of all people. He’d said it one afternoon when she’d stopped by to see Luke before his week of night shifts, how they were going to go camping so her dad could take some photos for a project and Reggie could teach Carlos to fish, and then he’d dropped his eye in a dramatic wink when she’d asked if that was the same weekend Alex was also away.
(Julie knew that she probably should have found it a little weird how often Reggie seemed to talk and hang out with her family, but the first time she’d gotten home to find him sitting at the dining room table, helping her dad edit photos and offering to order pizza, had felt strangely right.
Like he had always been a part of their family.
Luke had asked her once, a few weeks after they first started dating if it was okay. If she didn’t mind that Reggie had seemed to attach himself to her family. He never explicitly said anything, but she’d known him long enough by then to see the hints, the secrets she wasn’t aware of yet. Of lonely childhoods and something lacking. The hints that he’d found that with her family. And even if she hadn’t been fine with it already, she wasn’t about to stop Reggie. The Molina’s had never been shy about taking in lost souls.)
So apparently she hadn’t been quite as subtle as she thought she’d been with her hints. Both boys clearly conspiring to get her a weekend alone with their best friend. Julie’s just glad that Luke clearly hasn’t noticed. Or if he hadn’t, hadn’t teased her about it.
And that their apartment is empty when she uses her key to let herself in on Friday evening, Hotdog already waiting by the shoes for Luke, head tilted as she looks up mewling softly in disappointment.
“Sorry sweetie, he’ll be home soon though,” Julie mummers, bending down to scratch behind the cat's ears before stepping out of her shoes, which Hotdog happily moves to sit on top of instead. “Be sure to make a big fuss when he gets in so I know, alright?”
Hotdog doesn’t respond, just fixes her eyes back on the front door to wait for Luke, and Julie moves further into the apartment, laughing quietly at the plate of brownies Alex or Willie have clearly left out for them on the counter, blushing slight as she reads the short message scrawled on a post-it note,
‘Don’t mess up my kitchen ;)’
She tries not to let herself think too hard or long about how clearly they all knew about her grand plans for the night. And the next day, and hopefully the whole weekend if things went according to plan.
Picking up the plate on her way through the kitchen, Julie shrugs out of her coat to leave on the back of one of the kitchen stools, because if Luke missed her shoes in the hall, he won't miss this, and she’s really hoping he’ll get the hint to head towards his bedroom. By the time she’s made it to Luke’s room she’s lifted the cellophane off the plate and taken a bite from one of the brownies. Definitely Willie who’d baked them, he was always doubling up the chocolate content. Where Alex was experimental in the kitchen, Willie was a traditionalist who believed chocolate was the best way to set a mood. Julie couldn’t really fault his logic as she moves into Luke’s room.
His room looks the same as it had the first time she’d seen it. Only now there’s a bottle of her perfume on his dresser, and some of her clothes on his ‘laundry’ chair, and polaroids of the two of them stuck in the corners of the photo frames of him and the boys. And Julie knows if she thinks about it, that her room at her dad's house is also littered with pieces of him as well, and she knows it’s only been a few months, but it feels like years. Like her life had been full of all these little gaps she’d never noticed until they were filled with Luke.
Putting the plate down, she starts moving around his room. Pulling out the firefighting coat he’d brought home a few weeks ago because he’d found a rip in the shoulder, rooting through his wardrobe for the plain blue cut off she’d seen the last time she was over and laying them out on his bed. Tilting her head, Julie mentally puts together her outfit one more time. Shorts, suspenders, Luke’s cut-off, coat, maybe the shoes? She bites her lip and decides to come back to it, to see how everything looks on.
It’s strange, Julie thinks as she clips one side of her suspenders to her shorts, how nervous she is about this. It’s not like this is the first time they’ll have slept together, but it is the first time she’s done anything like this. Dressed up in something other than a pretty dress for dinner that he’d taken great care of taking off her.
What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was weird? What if he got home and was too tired to do anything? He’d been at work all day, after a long week of working, maybe she should change her plans and do it tomorrow night? What if—
She cuts her own thoughts off with a groan, sitting down on the end of Luke’s bed to take a breath and fiddle with knee high sheer socks dotted with little stars that she’d ordered online. Logically, Julie knows that Luke will like this, that he’ll look at her with those eyes of his that can’t hide a single emotion and smile at her slowly and call her beautiful.
Because he’d been complimenting her since their first date, and every day since. Little things and big changes and all the between. He really did seem to like her just as much dressed up and with make-up on as he did when she’d just woken up on a morning with her hair a mess and pillow creases still on her cheeks.
And that in itself was scary.
Because he liked her for her and didn’t need her to change. She’d never really dated anyone before who didn’t want her to be less invested in music or spend less time with her family or who didn’t like Flynn or even one guy who thought she should try a different scent of shampoo. They’d all been relationships littered with red flags, big and small.
But not even Flynn could find a real warning sign about Luke. Maybe he was a little co-dependant on his friends, but neither of them could say anything because they were a little co-dependant too. And maybe he could be a little over enthusiastic, but he also knew when to give her space. He had a stable job and good friends and was cute and lived in a nice area and he had a cat.
And, once upon a time, he had had a similar dream to her.
One of the things Flynn had managed to dig up on him during her ‘background’ check was an old low quality video on youtube of three boys in a garage playing instruments that looked too big for them but taking the whole thing seriously. Voices cracking on the cover of Summer of ‘69 they were playing, but Julie had seen the way they grinned at each other, at the way a younger Luke had bounced around the small space and Reggie had rocked on his feet and Alex had thrown a drumstick in the air and caught it again. They were kids, but they were talented and it's at that moment that Julie realises Luke was right. They could have made it.
She wonders what would have happened if fate hadn’t intervened in the form of a fire. She’s pretty sure Luke has wondered the same thing too. He doesn’t talk about it much and Julie’s never sure how much to push because he seems happy in his life and choices. And plus, if it hadn’t been for a fire in a record store, there’s a chance they wouldn’t have met.
Julie frowns a little at that thought as she rolls on her second sock over her knee and stands up, straightening out her shorts and twisting the side of Luke’s cut off up and tying it into a knot. She’s never been the biggest believer in fate since her mom died but she thinks there’s something a little like fate that’s pulled them together. And she thinks they’d have met with a fire or without a fire, with music or without.
She wrinkles her nose at herself in the mirror at that thought, rolling her eyes at how cheesy it sounds even to herself. Fate and destiny, who did she think she was? They were just two people lucky enough to find each other.
An alarm goes off on her phone to tell her she’s got half an hour before Luke is due home and this is her last chance if she wants to change her mind.
Tilting her head a slightly to the side, Julie takes in her high waisted shorts, red suspenders dangling by her thighs, the way her t-shirt cinches at her waist and reveals just a strip of skin above her shorts where she knows Luke likes to rest his hands when he pulls her close. She’d taken extra care with her curls and all she had to do was apply some lipstick and touch up her eyeliner and she’d be ready.
It’s Flynn’s voice in the back of her head as she tucks curls behind her ears to lean a little closer to her reflection and, as she pulls back, smacking her lips once before letting them rest in a pout, she can’t help but reiterate it, “I do look hot.”
The front door shuts and Julie can hear Hotdog meowing and Luke’s muffled voice down the corridor as she’s pulling his coat over her shoulders. It’s far too big for her, hanging below her knees and she has to roll the sleeves up three times to free her hands, but the collar smells like smoke and metal and Luke and his last name is written across the right hand side and his station across her back.
That was the part that Flynn had said would really get him — his name on her. Luke wasn’t exactly possessive, but she and Flynn had agreed there was just something about it that was A Lot, in a good way. (Unlike buying a pole and installing it in Luke’s room for a weekend, that was A Lot, in a bad way. Her plan had gone through many different phases before settling on this one. Luckily, it was also the cheapest.)
“Jules?” Luke calls and Julie bites her lip as she carefully climbs on to his bed, and kneels in the middle before changing her mind and crawling off the other side to stand next to it instead.
“I’m in here,” she calls back and she hears something dropping to the floor, probably his bag she guesses, and then his footsteps sounding down the hall.
Julie’s glad she opted for the shoes, just simple black heels, but they give her an extra lift and something more for Luke to look at as he opens his bedroom door. She has one knee slightly bent and resting on her toes, coat sleeves hiding the way her hands are balled up at her sides and one shoulder raised a little higher than the other as she tilts her head at him, biting her lip.
He freezes in the doorway, mouth partly open like he’d been about to say something only to get lost somewhere between his brain and vocal chords as his eyes seem to lock on to the coat she’s wearing before traveling down to her bare legs and Julie watches him swallow, adam's apple bobbing. Just as his eyes get back up to her face she moves one hand to tuck her coat behind her hip and hook her thumb under her suspenders in a way she’s seen him do countless times.
And it gets the reaction she wants, his eyes zeroing in on her hand and tracing up the line of red that covers her chest. Luke’s tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he blinks and finally drags his eyes back up to her face, pupils blown wide and she watches as he lets out a heavy breath.
“Hi,” she breathes out, and almost immediately regrets it. She's trying for sexy but thinks it just comes across as gasping. Which she hopes she’ll be eventually at some point tonight, but would at least like to be touched a little first.
“You—” Luke starts, and his voice is rough like he’s not used it in hours so he swallows again and Julie’s momentarily distracted by the way his throat moves before his speaking again, “Is that my coat?”
“Maybe,” Julie shrugs, turning slightly so she can pull at the collar of the coat to peer down at the name stitched in the fabric, “Oh look, it does say your name. Would you like me to take it off?” She blinks up at him with a soft smile.
Julie doesn’t know if it’s the smile or her words or just everything about the moment, but Luke lets out a low groan and before she can even blink he’s stood in front of her, hands on her hips and fingers brushing against her strip of visible skin, just like she knew he would. And she’s thankful for the heels all over again when it gives her the little extra height that means Luke doesn’t have to bend down quite so far to brush his lips across her cheek.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, lips ghosting along her jaw and Julie has to rest her hands against his chest to steady herself as her legs already feel wobbly. If she didn’t love him, she’d almost hate him for how easily he can affect her.
“Luke,” she whines as he continues to avoid her lips and trails one hand up his chest to wrap around his neck, fingers winding into his hair to tug lightly which only results in making him huff a laugh against the skin below her ear before giving in and pulling back.
“So,” he starts, press a light kiss to her cheek again again, “fucking,” he kisses the corner of her lips, “beautiful.” And he finally presses his lips to hers, soft at first and then she nips lightly at his top lip and he flexes his fingers against her hip, tugging her a closer with her suspenders to deepen the kiss.
Julie walks them backwards until the backs of her knees hit the edge of his bed and Luke takes the lead from there, lowering her down without breaking the kiss. He pulls away just enough to gasp for a breath, and she looks up at him, chest heaving and takes her chance to start her own teasing trail of kisses up his neck and across his jaw.
“Fuck,” he mutters and Julie smiles as she sucks lightly at his neck and sees the red mark her lipstick has left behind. She just hopes it lasts long enough for her full plan.
//
“This was because of the pole thing a few weeks ago, right?” Luke asks a few hours later as they lie in the middle of his bed, blankets half pushed to the floor and Julie’s spent the last five minutes kicking her legs back and forth to try and dislodge the reminder from covering her legs without having to turn around or sit up. She’s perfectly comfortably lying on her front, licking chocolate off her fingers from one of the brownies that Alex and Willie had been correct in leaving for them.
“Maybe,” she tries to shrug, but it’s awkward in this position and she quickly gives up to just look at him from under her lashes with a smile.
Luke laughs, his fingers trailing up and down her arm and over her shoulder a few times before he sits up slightly and leans over to press a kiss to her shoulder, “If I’d known it would cause such a reaction I would have slid down that pole in front of you months ago.”
“It might have still taken us months to get to this. Your roommates have very annoying schedules,” she shakes her head sadly and she thinks her hair has to be hitting him in the face, but he doesn’t say anything, just carefully gathers it in one hand to drape over her other shoulder, his lips still brushing soft kisses across her skin.
“Yeah. I’d get rid of them if Alex didn’t feed me for free and Reggie didn’t get us so many free tickets to stuff,” he sighs, breath blowing against her skin as his nose nudges over her shoulder blade until his lips follow and his rest his chin on her shoulder, and all she has to do is turn her head a little to find his eyes on her lips. “Though it would be so worth it for weekends like this.”
“Guess we should just make the most of this one first, huh?”
It’s a little awkward, and Luke must be uncomfortable with his torso twisted like it is, but it’s easy to kiss Luke, and to roll over until she can push him back down until his back hits the mattress and she can hover over him instead.
“You sound like you have a plan,” Luke comments, and his hands rest on her hips, fingers tapping against her as he looks up at her with those damn eyes of his. The ones that can’t hide a single thought or emotion. And all she can see is love, and okay yeah, probably a lot of lust.
“There might have been some bullet point list involved,” she shrugs one shoulder, her hair slipping over as she moves and Luke’s fingers flex against her, squeezing one hip as he lets out something that sounds halfway between a laugh and a groan.
“That shouldn’t be this hot,” he shakes his head, but his eyes are still shining and Julie loves him.
So she tells him. And kisses him. And wonders if it’s too soon to suggest they spend all their weekends together forever.
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ad1thi · 4 years ago
Text
2020 fic recs!! [Part 2]
part 2 of my 2020 fic recs!! as before, ive limited this to five fics per month; and fics are ordered by the month they were published. This spans fandoms and ships, and hopefully you find something you like!! credit for the idea goes to @iam93percentstardust
***
July
this is the start: @capnwinghead
Clark and Bruce continue raising the Wayne children and encounter a number of challenges along the way.
great minds (love alike): @starklysteve
Steve’s eyes flicks down to Tony’s knees on the floor.
“Are you – are you proposing to me with my ring for you?” Steve asks incredulously, eyes wide and confused.
---
Or, Steve finds Tony’s ring for him, Tony finds Steve’s ring for him. Panic happens.
Marvels Unsolved: @iam93percentstardust
Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty web-series about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.
it’s a small world after all: @maguna-stxrk
“Great speech.”
Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—”
And nearly drops his champagne flute.
His world comes to a stop.
They had only spent a night together, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere.
It’s Steve.
Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him—The Soulmate That Got Away.
you’re in my blood, you’re in my veins: @nethandrake
Tony always figured that if they ever were to break up, it would be like a blaze. Scorching and hot and all-too blinding. Intense like the two of them have always been.
Instead, they break up on a Tuesday, with the rain pelting the windowpane and the midnight silence stifling.
August
Five Times Danny said he’d marry Steve (plus one): @five-wow
Danny humphs. “Look, all I’m saying is, I think I’d probably have married you by now.”
“I’d marry you, too,” Steve says.
Or: An experiment in how many times you can say something before you have to put your money where your mouth is.
Family (You’ve Always Had It): @/SunnyQueen
A black Camaro and a scowling blond was not what Junior had been expecting.
“Hi, sir. You didn’t have to pick me up.”
The blond looked up from the screen on his phone and groaned, completely ignoring Junior's statement. “You are right, I didn't have to."
Ode To Yoga Pants: @riotfalling
OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun
Through The Years: @hawkbucks
Tony brings home Natasha one day, proclaiming her to be his new sister.
Natasha takes this all in stride.
The broken road that led me home to you: @just-fandomthings
A documented list of conversations between Steve and Danny via text and phone call following the events of 10x22 "Aloha." (Where, even thousands of miles apart, Steve and Danny can't go without talking to each other.)
September
someday, we’ll pass it on to you: @starklysteve
Steve smiles.
Reaching up, he flattens his hand against his son’s far smaller one, curling gently around it. “You wanna be like him?”
“Da!” Peter agrees again.
One year old, and you already know who’s the best of us, Steve pauses to reflect, all his fears chased away by a fierce pride. “Your Dad’s coming home real soon,” he promises, “you should tell him that.”
---------------
Or, five times Peter did the repulsor pose as a toddler
+ one time he used the repulsors as an adult
Classic Sci Fi: @notdoingsohot
Bucky wakes up to Steve telling him he's lost his memory, but not to panic, it'll only last a few days. Easier said than done when the last thing Bucky remembers is fighting Hydra with the Howlies in WWII.
He tries to make the most of it however, and there's this guy... Tony Stark. It's pretty clear the guy hates Bucky's guts, which is unfortunate because god damn is he a sight.
He tries to figure out what he did to wrong Stark, but everyone just tells him he doesn't want to know.
They were right.
Blooms in Frost: @/Diomedes
Tony coughs up his first petal on the sixth of July. He has been married to the love of his life for two years.
Bury a Hanahaki corpse in earth and it will beget the most beautiful garden. All that love, it is said, must go somewhere.
Hanahaki AU: Established relationship
------------------------------------------
A Single Thread of Gold: @lovelyirony
Rhodey doesn't believe in love at first sight or any of that cheesy shit. He just wants someone who is nice, dependable, and safe.
Tony Stark is Housing Service's little problem for the school year, and now he's stuck in Rhodey's room because he's exploded the last two dorm rooms he's been in and won't live off-campus.
high roller, place your bet: @machi-kun
“Would you kiss Stark for a hundred bucks?”
“I would pay a hundred bucks to kiss him.”
October
press my luck: @omg-just-peachy
But... Steve is almost ten years his junior, and he could be with just about anyone, looking and acting like he does. And then there’s the not so small fact of Tony’s name and net worth and the fact that, okay, Tony had paid for Steve’s grad school tuition, and now he’s worried Steve feels obligated to stay. Or something.
Or, Tony is a billionaire, Steve is a grad student, and they learn to let themselves be taken care of.
see it with the lights out: @starklysteve
Tony goes on a business trip, and he does not - not at all - get jealous of Dodger hogging his husband's chest, a territory otherwise known as Tony's pillow.
(or, Steve goes on an Instagram spree and Tony misses home)
adulthood is looking both ways before you cross the street and getting hit by an airplane: @starkslovemail
It was a perfect plan, if Peter did say so himself.
The Buy In: @dracusfyre
For the ImagineTonyandBucky prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love
trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve
Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.
By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.
Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.
One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.
For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.
----------
Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.
November
“Hey Tony”: @riotfalling
Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.
Remembering You is Hard to Do: @lovelyirony
“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.”
Jim looks up.
“Why do you call me that?”
“Call you what?”
“Honey-bear. It’s weird.”
“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.”
overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours): @starklysteve
"Tony - "
"I wish I could promise to come home this time," he feels the armor crawl back down his arm, continuing unnoticed over Steve's red gloves, then up the blue uniform as Tony fights to keep Steve's gaze firmly fixed on him.
The last eyes Tony might get to see, and he wants to be lost in them.
In the end, his entire life boils down a few simple things: "JARVIS, take care of him for me."
----------
Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.
i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.: @nethandrake
For as long as Steve can remember, he's been crushing on Tony Stark. The thing is, he's pretty sure Tony doesn't know Steve exists. And how could he? Steve's scrawny and little. He's a nobody compared to Tony who's Mr Popular and the son of a billionaire.
Or at least he thought so until Tony swings by the bakery Steve's mother happens to own to enlist Steve's help in finding the perfect Valentine's Day card.
The perfect Valentine's Day card for someone who isn't Steve.
One Song (My Heart Keeps Singing): @iam93percentstardust
When Thor is old enough to understand what a Heartsong is, he goes to his mother to ask her why he can’t understand the language his is in. He listens as she tells him about the first soulmates who couldn't understand their Heartsong until the day they meet, excited by the thought of a grand adventure, one that will take him across the cosmos in search of his One.
He’ll search all the Nine Realms if he has to.
December
Swiping Right: @s-horne
“Ouch. Definitely a hard pass for that one?”
Steve startled at the sudden comment from the row of chairs behind him and turned around. He’d been passing the time in the airport lounge by swiping through Tinder and had gotten lost in his own world. It was almost jarring to be pulled away from the screen of hot men and back into reality where the PA was screeching and there was noise everywhere.
Adjusting to the difference, Steve frowned. Wait, he knew that face. Oh, shit… he knew that face.
“No, no, it’s fine,” the man said before Steve could get out anything other than an embarrassed sort of yelp. Waving his hand through the air, the stranger smiled ruefully. “I get it. It’s the beard, isn’t it? True be told, it was a weird winter choice that year and I knew it would come back to hurt me.”
Steve didn’t know what to say. He knew it must have shown on his face and could feel himself flushing, panicked and embarrassed all at once. What were the odds of swiping left on someone literally sat behind him?
set your flight path home (to me): @starklysteve 
Tony puts down his welding torch. “I’m building you a plane.”
Stepping carefully over the gears and tools scattered about, Rhodey slowly makes his way to him.
“And when did you become an expert on how to build a plane?”
“Last night,” Tony grins.
---------------
Tony builds a plane, and Rhodey teaches Tony how to fly it. Or he would be teaching Tony, if Tony didn't distract him so much.
I Want A Man With A Slow Hand: @thefourofswords
“Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids.
“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.”
“What do you like in bed?”
*
Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.
same time next year: @omg-just-peachy
“I forgot to ask. When’s your flight home?” Steve asks, draping his arm over Tony’s shoulder and settling in against him.
Tony ignores the knot that forms in his chest at the idea of it, leaving Steve again for his own impersonal apartment, his piles of books and projects and the nights without sleep.
“Day after tomorrow.”
Steve huffs a little sigh, then brings his lips to Tony’s neck. “Well, we’ll have to make the most of it, won’t we?”
Or, four (4) Christmases with two (2) idiots who can't admit they're in love.
rearrange my heart (to fit your smile): @starklysteve
"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"
"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."
Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.
Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"
Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.
----------
Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.
Keyword: try
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adhd-disaster-willie · 4 years ago
Text
you’re the one that brings the sun; chapter 5/6
chapter 1, 2, 3, 4
warnings: swearing
word count: 2,757
notes: okay so this update took a while because I’ve been busy with school and writers block has been kicking my ass, but I think it’s worth it :)))
---
It was established in August that at least once a month, Alex will receive a phone call informing him to be at Julie’s house in ten minutes for a mandatory slumber party. It’s endearing sure, but he would like some sort of warning other than Luke calling him and saying that if he doesn’t show up as soon as possible, he’ll paint his drumsticks neon green. So that’s how Alex ends up sitting cross legged on Julie’s bed, putting Reggie’s hair into a bunch of tiny braids and watching The Princess Diaries for what’s probably the hundredth time. 
“Lilly is definitely a lesbian,” Flynn says through a mouthful of popcorn. 
Alex hums in agreement and Julie nods. “If only this movie weren’t made in 2001,” Julie says mournfully.
“Y’know I always thought that Joe was gay,” Alex admits. “Up until he dances with the queen.”
Reggie attempts to look up at Alex, earning an offended squeak from the latter. “Really?”
“Yes, now will you please stay still, I only have one more left.”
“Ok but there is no way Mia’s mom is straight!” Flynn says.
Julie seems to mull it over for a bit. “She does live in an old fire station. And artists are never straight.”
“Yea, like Willie!” Luke pipes up, sitting up from his position hanging halfway off the bed. “Willie’s not straight.”
“We should start a betting pool on how long it takes for Luke to bring up Willie,” Alex mumbles, his cheeks flushing pink. He ties off Reggie’s final braid and pats his head approvingly. “You look like a real princess.”
“Do I?” Reggie grins up at him with a bit of a twinkle in his eye and Alex chuckles. 
“No subject changing,” Luke protests. “How’s Willie doing?”
“Still a pining idiot,” Flynn answers with a cheeky smile. 
“I’m trying to watch the movie.” Alex shoves at Luke’s face and slides down off the bed to sit on the floor beside Reggie. 
“You’ve seen this movie a million times,” Luke points out. He leans down so his head is hanging off the edge of the bed and smirks mischievously at Alex, who is pointedly refusing to look at him. “Aleeeex,” Luke whines. “Don’t be a buzzkill.”
“Alice, please,” Flynn says. Alex shoots her a look seeping with betrayal and Flynn raises their hands defensively. “I haven’t seen Carrie in a few days!” They protest. “I need drama.”
“Drama?” Alex asks. “Or blackmail material?”
Flynn shrugs, which only serves to cement what Alex was thinking. “Yea, nope. It’s not like anything has even happened since-” He cuts himself off, realizing his mistake and preparing for the onslaught of questions. 
“Since!?” Luke cries. “Since what?!” He grabs Alex’s face roughly and looks at him with wide eyes. “Since what, Alex?”
“Nothing!” Alex squeaks, wrenching himself from Luke’s grasp. “Nothing! It was- let go of my fanny pack! Julie stop filming!!!” Alex swats at Luke’s hands and attempts to leap forward to grab Julie’s phone, but ultimately fails. 
“I’ll let go if you tell me,” Luke teases in a sing song voice, his grin only growing the more Alex fights. 
“Fine! If you just- sorry Reg the puppy-dog eyes only work on Luke and Bobby.” Reggie sighs in disappointment and Alex finally manages to get Luke off of him, huffing angrily and brushing nonexistent dust from his hoodie. “You’re a barbarian,” he mutters.
“Well?” 
Alex responds to Julie’s prompting with a long-suffering sigh. “You have to promise not to make fun of me,” he says. They don’t promise. The movie is long forgotten as Alex’s friends gather around him, looking all too fascinated by his latest embarrassment. “He well… don’t laugh, ok. He wore a crop top last week and I tripped on my own feet and scraped up my knees.”
Flynn raises an eyebrow. “Nuh uh, there’s more, spill.”
Alex groans, burying his face in his hands. “They got all worried and started putting bandaids on my knees and I almost fainted. Then- please don’t make me say this,” Alex pleads, looking to Julie as if she’s his last hope. She shakes her head. “When they finished lecturing me I just looked at him and said ‘nice shirt’ and ran off. Nice shirt??? What is wrong with me?”
“Wait a minute,” Julie says, gesturing for Alex to pause. “You just… ran off? Where?”
Alex doesn’t say anything. 
“I’ll paint your drumsticks if you don’t tell us,” Luke threatens. The difficulty is that Alex doesn’t doubt him one bit, and knows that Julie has a healthy supply of paint in a drawer just a few feet away from Luke. 
Alex mumbles something under his breath and Reggie pokes him. 
“Sorry what was that? Speak up.”
“Orange, I’ll paint them the ugliest shade of orange ever.”
“I went and hid in my closet!” Alex blurts. “For like an hour. I am never going to live that down.”
“That’s… incredibly ironic,” Julie laughs. 
“I’m telling that story at your wedding.”
“Reginald, don’t even think about it!” Alex kicks Reggie lightly and raises his hand to flip off the other three, who are all dying of laughter. “I hate all of you. I need new friends.”
“Good luck with that.” Flynn pats Alex’s head; he can practically hear their stupid smirk. 
“Fuck off.”
“No.”
---
Alex wakes up with his foot in Luke’s face, one arm thrown over Julie, his face in Reggie’s neck, and a very giggly Flynn perched on the end of the bed taking pictures. He sits up and murmurs sleepily, squinting in the oddly hazy room.
It’s gray and gloomy outside, quite fitting for mid-November, but far from Alex’s ideal weather. He’s always been partial to spring, when it’s not too hot and not too cold and not always cloudy and sad. 
Flynn hops off the bed and onto Julie’s chair, where she spins a couple times before turning her phone to show Alex. “This is gonna be my new lockscreen,” they giggle. Alex stares at the photo, baffled as to how his arm was bent like that. 
Breakfast is heaps of pancakes and fresh coffee (bless you, Ray) that for a moment, Alex considers just dumping over his head. Julie is curled around Luke for warmth throughout the whole morning and Flynn makes a point to gag at least once every 5 minutes. Alex knows she’s happy for them though, they finally got their act together a little over a week ago and at least this is better than the pining. Alex doesn’t say that though, because it will only get him a lecture on how he is not one to talk about pining. 
Alex almost thanks a god he doesn’t believe in anymore when the rain outside doesn’t seem to make any moves into thunderstorm territory. Willie hates thunderstorms. He stays cocooned in a blanket until noon, but eventually Tía Victoria shoos them all out, claiming that Julie will never finish her homework with them all glued to her. 
Alex is sopping wet when he finally arrives at his dorm, sadly no car can go right up to the entrance of the dorms. The first thing Alex notices when he walks in is the candles, and the second thing is the haphazardly thrown together fort in the middle of the room, which he narrowly avoids tripping over. “Willie?” He asks, lifting what he assumes to be the entrance and raising an eyebrow at Willie, who is grinning at him and shining a flashlight in his face.
“Ok, get that out of my eyes.” Alex clamps a hand over the light and Willie sticks his tongue out. “Did the power go out?” Alex asks, worry etching over his face. He can’t have all their food being ruined, with Alex living off his coffee shop job and Willie off of the occasional commission and odd check from his eccentric uncle. 
Willie shakes their head. “Nope.”
“So why the… candles?”
“It’s fun!” Willie pulls Alex into the fort, stumbling back and just barely evading them toppling over each other into a quite compromising position. Willie presses his back against the couch and pats the space next to him. “It’s like you’re a little kid again.”
“Luke used to love making forts,” Alex admits. “We would move all the furniture in his living room and make the absolute worst blanket forts you can imagine. Like seriously, it’s no wonder none of us went into architecture.”
“Really? I can totally see you as an architect”
“That’s…”
“I’m joking, hotdog,” Willie giggles, bumping their shoulder together. He has a tendency to raise his eyebrows when he’s amused; Alex finds it all too endearing. Accompanied with the way their eyes crinkle when the laugh and the soft candlelight leaking through the thin blankets and draping over his features, Alex thinks he’s having trouble breathing. 
“I was drawing you, y’know,” Willie says softly after a few minutes of silence.
“Hmm?”
“The day we went stargazing, I was drawing you. You’re- you’re a good muse.”
“Oh.” Alex’s stomach flutters. “I uh… thank you.” He gives Willie a hesitant smile before turning to focus on the flickering light. His breath feels weighted, like every exhale means something, but he can’t quite pinpoint what. There’s a light breeze whistling through the crack in the door and Alex closes his eyes for a moment, pretending that it’s wrapping around him and holding him close. Alex didn’t get much affection as a child; his parents had always been very stiff. Sure, they loved him, but they weren’t that good at showing it aside from a rough shoulder squeeze and tight smiles so full of expectations. When he came out, even the snippets of affection faded; no more of his mother fixing his hair or giving him a quick kiss on the forehead when he was sick. Two months after his coming out, they just… kicked him out. He came home to find his belongings shoved carelessly into a trash bag or two and that was that. Luke more than made up for the lack of physical affection, but Alex knows that there will always be something missing. 
Wide awake, Alex lets his head fall onto Willie’s shoulder. This time with care and attention, hesitancy. He hears Willie suck in a sharp breath but then the tension melts from their shoulders and fizzles into nothingness. For a moment, there is nothing but them and the pattering of rain against the windows. 
“Lets go for a drive.”
Alex looks up expecting Willie’s usual carefree and impish grin, but he’s taken aback by his wistful expression and something bursts in Alex’s chest. Something that may be instinct and may be just an overwhelming surge of emotion.
“Okay.” His voice is barely a whisper, a single wisp of smoke snaking from a blown out candle.
The air is damp and the rain is coming down hard; Alex reaches a cautious hand out beyond the awning and winces at the downpour. But Willie is wiggling his stupid eyebrows in the way that makes Alex’s face heat and he can’t say no as Willie drags him through the wet grass, shrieking with laughter and going slower than necessary to relish in the water pouring down from the sky in torrents. They’re soaked to the bone and breathless, overflowing with mirth, by the time they reach Alex’s car and clamber into the seats. Right after a brief argument about who’s driving of course. (“You will not be touching my steering wheel with your grimy paint hands, William.” “Says you.”) So Alex is driving. 
Willie has their hands pressed to the window, breath fogging up the glass and sending them into a fit of giggles every time. Alex switches on the radio and there’s a song playing that he recognizes but couldn’t sing along to; something soft and low, like lilting waves. Willie knows it though. And they’re singing. Oh. They’re singing. Alex almost has to pull the car to a stop and put his head in his hands because Willie never told him he could sing.
Willie’s voice is low and slightly raspy, but not in a bad way. Alex knows he’s heard this song before, but he’s 100% certain that this is his first time really hearing it. And it’s beautiful. Or maybe it’s just Willie. It’s probably just Willie. 
Alex brings the car to a slow stop in the parking lot of an odd gas station that always seems to be closed. He doesn’t turn it off though, because he would rather die than have Willie stop singing. He leans his head back and breathes, certain he’s inhaling Willie’s voice. Willie’s voice which is like sparks on his skin, like smoke that crowds his lungs and opens his soul for the very first time. He feels a sense of mourning when the song stops and something else comes on, something peppier and sickeningly sweet. He switches the radio off. 
“I didn’t know you could sing.” Alex isn’t even looking at them; he’s fiddling nervously with the strap of his fanny pack.
Willie smirks proudly. “You learn something new every day.”
“Yea.”
Willie traces a heart in the fog on the window and lets it sit there. Then he unbuckles his seat belt and pokes Alex’s shoulder. “Hey ‘Lex, come on.”
“No.” Alex shakes his head vigorously. “No. We’re already soaking wet and-”
“Hot dog.”
And damn it, the nickname may be so incredibly stupid but Alex has such a weird soft spot for it. He groans dramatically, making a point to wring out his hair, which is already mostly dry at this point. “You’re the worst. What if it starts thundering?” 
Willie shrugs. “I have my noise cancelling headphones. And you can-” they cut themself off. 
“I can what?”
“Nothing,” Willie squeaks. “Please. Please.”
So Alex climbs reluctantly from the car and stands in the parking lot looking far from amused. “You owe me.”
Willie laughs loudly, grabbing both of Alex’s hands and spinning him in an aimless circle, pulling them both into a dance  to music that’s only in his head. They twirl Alex around several times, and Alex is certain that he’s going to actually fall over and faint. Willie raises his face to the sky and squints, letting the rain soak him without care. Alex is in awe and how open and free Willie is, like nothing can ever go wrong and if it does they’ll always be flying. He doesn’t realized they’ve stopped dancing until Willie turns to him with a curious expression. Their eyes rake over his face and Alex realizes he’s staring. But for once, he doesn’t look away. And for the first time, he sees the corner of Willie’s mouth quirk up and their eyes flick to his lips and even linger there for a brief second. 
The rain doesn’t seem to have plans to stop anytime soon, and they’re both shivering and wet and Willie’s hair is dangling in front of his face. Alex reaches out and tucks it behind his ear, both of them holding a breath, waiting. It’s right there, right in front of him, and Alex is inches from just grasping it and clutching it to his chest. Willie takes a step forward so their faces are just inches from each other and Alex can feel their breath against his cheeks. He exhales shakily and raises one hand to cup Willie’s cheek, his touch feather light and afraid. Willie leans into the contact and grins upwards, their nose wrinkling fondly. He gives a silent nod and for the first time in years, Alex takes the plunge. 
Their first kiss is soft and slow and Willie tastes like rain and green tea. Alex smiles against their lips, a breathy laugh escaping his own. He’d think this is a dream, but no section of his imagination could conjure something even a fragment as magical as this. They’re in the middle of a parking lot, cold and wet, and yet Alex feels the warmest he ever has. Alex is hesitant to pull away, but he does, just barely. Their foreheads stay resting against each other, like breaking apart would break them. Then it comes crashing into him. Alex just kissed Willie. He just kissed Willie. And Willie kissed him back! Holy shit!
“Wowza.” Wowza? What the fuck Alex? 
Willie breaks into joyous laughter, throwing his head back and clutching Alex’s shoulders. And Alex laughs with him; he buries his face in the crook of Willie’s neck, his heart full to bursting. Wowza indeed.
---
notes: ...I did say I was thinking about a Willex rain kiss. I actually wrote like half of chapter 6 a while ago so I might be able to post it tomorrow. 
chapter 6
taglist:  @thatsanewflavor @spookiest-sapphic @dovesgrangers @julie-n-phantoms @frostknyte @thegaylink @nervousmiracletrash @crummycassidy @fairygclds @reallyintrospectivepeople @madsmax-37 @swamp-acad @kat-maybe-not @sunsetcurve123 @lookingthroughmirrors @queer-fandom-enby @over-under-through1 @willex-n-waffles @caliibee @stars-soph @herequeerandcantdrinkbeer @nickalicious @andwhenwepart @maizsnex @fanofthepod @heademptynothoughts @thunderstorm-symphony @julieandthephantomsandme @i-spit-on-fire
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kashimos-hajime · 4 years ago
Text
dear... whoever | b.b.
summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries. 
WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k
a/n: written for @softbiker​ and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky​ with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!
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July 31/20
Dear…
Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.
Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.
Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.
Cute.
Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.
What the hell is he even doing?
To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.
I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.
Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.
I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.
Fuck it.
Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.
.
Aug. 1/20
Dear Jane,
I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.
One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.
Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.
Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.
Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”
“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”
Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.
Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.
Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.
Eight: I think I might be in love with him.
Bye.
.
Aug. 5/20
Dear Jane,
In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.
This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.
AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.
Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.
We’ll see. I am considering it.
What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.
As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.
But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.
As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.
I think that’s it.
If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.
Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.
Okay, goodnight.
.
Aug. 7/20
Dear Jane,
Sam, James, and I went swimming.
Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.
Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.
Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.
Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.
Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.
God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.
It’s not stupid.
It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.
This sucks.
.
Aug. 11/20
The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.
.
Aug. 15/20
Dear Jane,
Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.
Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.
I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.
EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?
I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.
I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.
No, I’m not.
God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.
I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.
Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.
Thanks, universe.
.
Aug. 16/20
Dear Jane,
So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.
James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.
Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.
.
Aug. 19/20
Dear Jane,
What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?
James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.
I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.
I should’ve been a shrink.
At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.
Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.
See you on the plane, Jane.
.
Aug. 23/20
Dear Jane,
On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.
There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.
Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.
Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.
I don’t know.
Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.
So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?
You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.
.
Oct. 20/20
Dear Jane,
I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.
In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.
I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.
James offered to help, and he seems normal again.
Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.
In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.
It was FINE.
Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.
James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.
He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.
I said yes, to be polite.
Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.
.
Oct. 22/20
Dear Jane,
I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.
If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too. 
She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.
Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.
.
Oct. 25/20
Dear Jane,
God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.
Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.
It’s a fucking disaster.
I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)
Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.
I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.
Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.
Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.
He called me his best friend again in his latest email.
Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.
.
Nov. 1/20
Dear Jane,
Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.
I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.
It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.
Wish me luck, not that I need it.
Why do you think Tony hired me?
.
Nov. 4/20
Dear Jane.
Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.
Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.
Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.
I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.
.
Nov. 13/20
Dear Jane,
Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.
We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.
Well, glad to know this didn’t work.
.
Nov. 15/20
Dear Jane,
Guess who just got fucking shot!
ME!
Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.
James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.
He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.
Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever? 
I’ve never fallen in love before.
Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.
Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.
God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.
Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.
In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.
More on that later. I’m tired.
God, why him?
I HATE THIS.
goodnight.
.
Nov. 16/20
Dear Jane,
James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.
I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.
He said he did, too.
I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.
It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.
That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.
P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.
.
Nov. 17/20
Dear Jane,
Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.
I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.
It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.
Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.
.
Nov. 24/20
Dear Jane,
Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.
James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.
He broke up with his girlfriend, too.
Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.
I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.
He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.
I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.
Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.
I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.
Girl code.
It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.
Yay, me.
.
Dec. 4/20
Dear Jane,
Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.
Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.
On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.
Might just go alone. I don’t know.
Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.
Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.
He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.
I cannot wait.
.
Dec. 12/20
Dear Jane,
I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.
Thoughts on black and gold?
I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.
James asked if we could meet up tonight.
I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.
I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.
I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.
Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.
Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.
I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.
Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.
.
Dec. 16/20
Dear Jane,
T-minus nine days until the party.
No date in sight.
Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.
Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.
.
Dec. 17/20
Dear Jane,
Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.
I wish I meant Sam.
Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.
Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.
He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.
Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.
Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?
Me.
Yippee.
.
Dec. 18/20
Dear Jane,
It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.
I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.
Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.
I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.
Goodnight, Jane.
.
Dec. 24/20
Dear Jane,
I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.
This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.
.
Dec. 25/20
Dear Jane,
Merry Christmas! 
In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.
Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.
It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.
Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.
Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.
You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.
.
Dec. 26/20
Dear Jane,
Fuck.
P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.
.
Dec. 27/20
Dear Jane,
I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.
I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.
He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.
Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.
God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just
It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.
Best Christmas ever.
.
Dec. 28/20
Dear Jane,
I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.
Love at first meeting isn’t real.
Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.
.
Dec. 29/20
Dear Jane,
It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?
Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.
He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.
This is perfect.
I think I really am IN love with him.
.
Jan. 1/21
You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?
WELL THEN.
Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.
See you when I’m not hungover.
.
Jan. 5/21
Dear Jane,
I’m finally stable enough to write.
In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.
Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.
Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.
He just said love’s tough sometimes.
Yeah, tell me about it.
I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.
.
Jan. 6/21
Dear Jane,
James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.
I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?
I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.
It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.
Maybe it’s something to do with me.
I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.
.
Jan. 6/21
He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.
I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.
.
Jan. 9/21
Dear Jane,
He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.
I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.
It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.
Shit.
.
Jan. 14/21
Dear Jane,
Switzerland is lovely.
No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.
No other comment.
.
Jan. 21/21
Dear Jane,
I lasted all of a week.
Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.
I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.
Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.
He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”
I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.
I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.
That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.
But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.
We’re going home in a few days.
I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.
.
Jan. 24/21
Dear Jane,
I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.
He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.
We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.
Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.
I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.
.
Feb. 2/21
Dear Jane,
I’m absolutely miserable.
I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.
Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?
I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.
He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.
.
Feb. 14/21
Dear Jane,
I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.
What a wretched holiday.
Yours truly.
.
Feb. 18/21
Dear Jane,
Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.
Not James.
He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.
No other observations.
.
Feb. 25/21
Dear Jane,
It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.
I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.
I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.
It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.
Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.
Again, love making me sappy and all that.
.
Feb. 28/21
Dear Jane,
Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.
I wonder if James knew that.
.
Mar. 10/21
Dear Jane,
It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.
I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.
.
Mar. 20/21
Dear Jane,
It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.
Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.
.
April 1/21
James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.
James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.
Who am I to say no to celebrating?
He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.
He told me he loved me.
I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.
I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.
It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.
Or, the sickest practical joke.
Consensus not yet reached.
.
April 2/21
Dear Jane,
I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.
He did not.
Sickest practical joke confirmed.
.
April 9/21
Dear Jane,
I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.
Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.
I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.
Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.
.
May 1/21
Dear Jane,
It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.
Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.
Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.
I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.
Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.
The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.
.
May 6/21
Dear Jane,
For context, it’s 5:23AM.
Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.
We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.
We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.
He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.
I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.
I guess that means something.
.
May 17/21
Dear Jane,
In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.
.
May 22/21
Dear Jane,
Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.
I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.
That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.
She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.
I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.
Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.
Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.
.
June 3/21
Dear Jane,
It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.
It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.
Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.
And Nat is scary when not listened to.
Much to brainstorm about.
.
June 14/21
Dear Jane,
Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.
Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.
.
June 20/21
Dear Jane,
It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.
So much for simplicity.
In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.
Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.
Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.
I’ll make it work somehow.
.
June 22/21
Dear Jane,
I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.
In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.
What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.
He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”
He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.
God, how am I so stupid?
.
June 25/21
Dear Jane,
I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.
I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.
I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.
I love you.
Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.
.
July 12/21
Dear Jane,
It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.
James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.
There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.
Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.
I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.
The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.
It’s too quiet.
I’m so scared.
.
July 13/21
They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.
It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.
When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”
Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.
I feel sort of guilty.
It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?
I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.
.
July 14/21
Dear Jane,
James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.
I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.
He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.
Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.
I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.
.
July 18/21
Dear Jane,
We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.
I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.
I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.
He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.
I’m going to go kiss him now.
Be right back.
.
July 21/21
Dear Jane,
It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.
We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.
We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.
It feels very natural.
I am very much in love with him.
I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.
.
July 25/21
Dear Jane,
We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).
While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.
He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.
One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.
Until then, I’ll just keep trying.
P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.
P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.
.
July 26/21
Dear Jane,
In summary of today:
Happy birthday, Natasha.
James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.
He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.
I love him and that’s the only reason it works.
Back to the festivities.
.
July 27/21
Dear Jane,
Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.
Progress. Now, back to sleep.
.
July 27/21
Dear Jane,
It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.
He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.
He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.
I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.
I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.
Massive progress.
.
July 28/21
Dear Jane,
He told me I was the only one for him.
Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.
For a day: 10/10
.
July 31/21
Hey Jane,
I think I’m happy.
I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.
James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.
Weird, but it’s a good weird.
See you in a bit.
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alwaysmarilynmonroe · 5 years ago
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Today is a very special day, it’s Marilyn’s Birthday! Can you believe that if she were still alive,  Marilyn would have been turning 94 years old today – just two months younger than the Queen herself! With each year I always try and write a special post about this amazing woman, who has helped me so much and achieved more than anyone could have imagined in her 36 years. Therefore, I decided to write 94 facts about the Birthday Girl – some you may know, some you may not, all in the hope that genuine things will be learnt and the real Marilyn will be more understood and appreciated.
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Gladys and baby Norma Jeane spend some quality time together on the beach in 1929.
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Little Norma Jeane, aged seven, in 1933.
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Norma Jeane photographed by David Conover whilst working at the Radio Plane Munitions Factory in either the Fall of 1944 or Spring of 1945.
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Norma Jeane by Andre de Dienes in late 1945.
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Marilyn by Richard Miller in 1946.
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Marilyn on Tobey Beach by Andre de Dienes on July 23rd 1949.
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Marilyn by Ed Clark in Griffith Park in August 1950.
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Marilyn attends a Party in Ray Anthony’s home, organized by 20th Century Fox on August 3rd 1952.
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Marilyn filming The Seven Year Itch on location in New York City by Sam Shaw on September 13th 1954.
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Marilyn by Milton Greene on January 28th 1955.
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Marilyn by Cecil Beaton on February 22nd 1956. This was her favourite photo of herself.
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Marilyn attending the Premiere of The Prince In The Showgirl at the Radio City Music Hall on June 13th 1957.
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Marilyn by Carl Perutz on June 16th 1958.
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Marilyn by Philippe Halsman for LIFE Magazine in October 1959.
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Marilyn attends a Benefit for The Actors Studio at the Roseland Dance City on March 13th 1961.
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Marilyn on Santa Monica Beach for Cosmopolitan Magazine by George Barris on July 1st 1962.
______________________________________________________________________________
1.  Stood at a height of 5’5½”
2.  Born in the charity ward of the Los Angeles County Hospital at 9:30 AM on June 1st 1926.
3.  Married three times;
– Jim Dougherty: (June 19th 1942 – September 13th 1946) – Joe Dimaggio: (January 14th 1954 – 31st October 1955) (Temporary divorce granted on October 27th 1954) – Arthur Miller: (June 29th 1956 – January 20th 1961).
4. Suffered two confirmed miscarriages; an ectopic pregnancy on August 1st 1957 and miscarriage in December 16th 1958.
5. Suffered with endometriosis very badly, so much so that she had a clause in her contract which stated she would be unable to work whilst menstruating.
6. Starred in 30 films – her last being uncompleted.
7. Favourite of her own performances was as Angela Phinlay in The Asphalt Jungle (1950)
8. Winner of three Golden Globes; two for World Film Favourite – Female in 1954 and 1962 and one for Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical for her performance as Sugar Kane in Some Like It Hot (1959) in 1960.
9. Her idol was the first Platinum Blonde Bombshell, Jean Harlow.
10. Amassed a collection of over 400 books in her library, ranging from Russian Literature to Psychology.
11. Favourite perfume was Chanel No.5
12. Had two half siblings; Robert “Jackie” Baker (1918 – 1933) and Bernice Miracle (1919) – the former she would never have the chance to meet and Bernice was not informed about Marilyn until she was 19 years old.
13. Former Actor and 20th Century Fox Studio Executive, Ben Lyon created the name Marilyn Monroe in December 1946 – Marilyn after fellow Actress, Marilyn Miller and Monroe after Marilyn’s mother’s maiden name. Ironically enough, Ben starred with Jean Harlow, in her breakout movie, Hell’s Angels (1930).
14. Legally changed her name to Marilyn Monroe ten years later, on February 23rd 1956.
15. Attended The Actors Studio.
16. Third woman to start her own Film Production Company – the first being Lois Weber in 1917 and the second being Mary Pickford in 1919.
17. First had her hair bleached in January 1946 at the Frank & Joseph Salon by Beautician Sylvia Barnhart, originally intended for a Shampoo Advert.
18. Contrary to popular belief, she was technically a natural blonde, not a redhead or brunette. She was born with platinum hair and was very fair until just before her teen years. Her sister described her with having dark blonde hair upon their first meeting in 1944.
19. Another myth debunked – she had blue eyes, not brown.
20. Was one of the few women in the 1950s to use weights when exercising.
21. Wore jeans before it was considered acceptable for women.
22. Her famous mole was real – albeit skin coloured, so she emphasized it using a brown eye pencil.
23. Was a Step-Mother in two of her three marriages to three children – Joe Dimaggio Jr. and Bobby and Jane Miller.
24. Found out she landed the lead role in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) on her 26th Birthday.
25. Another huge myth dispelled – only actually met President Kennedy four times from 1961 – 1962. Three of them were at public events, with the last being her performance at Madison Square Garden. One of them was at Bing Crosby’s Palm Spring house with various people, so at most (which again, is very unlikely) they had a one night stand – nothing more and nothing less.
26. Was the first Playboy Cover Girl, although she did not actually pose for them, nor give permission for them to be used. Hugh Hefner bought the photograph from a Chicago Calendar Company for $500 and the two never met.
27. Speaking of Playboy, the photo was taken by Photographer Tom Kelley on May 27th 1951 and Marilyn made a total of $50 for the photo shoot. The most famous photo then went on to cause a national sensation after being sold to the Calendar Baumgarth Company and became known as, “Golden Dreams“.
28. In 1955 it was estimated that over four million copies of the Calendar had been sold.
29. Favourite singers were Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald. 
30. Attended the Academy Awards Ceremony only once on March 29th 1951 and presented the award for “Best Sound Recording” to Thomas Moulton for All About Eve (1951) which she also starred in.
31. Performed ten shows over four days to over 100,000 soldiers and marines in Korea in February 1954 – she actually ended up catching pneumonia because it was so cold.
32. Was one of the few Stars who had Director Approval in their Contracts. Some of the names included were, John Huston, Elia Kazan, Alfred Hitchcock, George Stevens, William Wyler, Joshua Logan and Sir Carol Reed.
33. Was pregnant during the filming of Some Like It Hot (1959) – filming finished on November 7th 1958 and she miscarried the following month on December 16th.
34. Featured on the cover of LIFE Magazine seven times during her lifetime;
– April 7th 1952 – May 25th 1953 – July 8th 1957 (International Edition) – April 20th 1959 – November 9th 1959 – August 15th 1960 – June 22nd 1962
35. Favourite bevarage was Dom Perignon 1953 Champagne.
36. By the time of her death, her films had grossed over $200 million, when adjusted for inflation that is the equivalent of $2 billion in 2019.
37. Designer, William Travilla dressed Marilyn for seven of her films, two (*) of them received Oscar Nominations in, “Best Costume/Design, Color“;
– Monkey Business (1952) – Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) – How To Marry A Millionaire (1953) * – River Of No Return (1954) – There’s No Business Like Show Business (1954) * – The Seven Year Itch (1955) – Bus Stop (1956)
38. Spent 21 months of her childhood at the Los Angeles Orphanage, from September 13th 1935 until June 7th 1937.
39. Was one of the first Stars to speak out about child abuse, with her story appearing in movie magazines as early as 1954.
40. Fostered by her grandmother’s neighbours, Ida and Albert Bolender, for the first seven years of her life.
41. Lived in England for four months, during the period of filming for The Prince and The Showgirl (1957) from July 14th 1956 – November 20th 1956.
42. Her Production Company, Marilyn Monroe Productions produced only one film, The Prince and The Showgirl (1957) based on Terrance Rattigan’s play, The Sleeping Prince.
43. Was photographed by Earl Theisen in October 1952 wearing a potato sack dress after being criticized by the press for her outfit choice at The Henrietta Awards in January 1952. A journalist wrote that Marilyn was “insignificant and vulgar“and “even in a potato bag, it would have been more elegant.“
44. Was a huge supporter of LGBT+ rights, saying the following quote about fellow actor and friend, Montgomery Clift to journalist W.J. Weatherby in 1960,
“I was remembering Monty Clift. People who aren’t fit to open the door for him sneer at his homosexuality. What do they know about it? Labels–people love putting labels on each other. Then they feel safe. People tried to make me into a lesbian. I laughed. No sex is wrong if there’s love in it.”
45. Her measurements were listed as the following by her Dressmakers; 35-22-35 and 36-24-24 by The Blue Book  Modelling Agency. For the majority of her life she weighed between 117-120 pounds, with her weight fluctuating around 15 pounds, during and after her pregnancies (1957-1960), although her waist never ventured past 28.5 inches and her dress size today would be a UK Size 6-8 and a US Size 2-4 as she was a vintage Size 12.
46. Her famous white halter dress from The Seven Year Itch (1955) sold for $4.6 million ($5.6 million including auction fees) on June 18th 2011, which was owned by Debbie Reynolds. The “Happy Birthday Mr. President Dress” originally held the record for the most expensive dress, when it was sold on October 27th 1999 for $1.26 million. It then went on to be resold for $4.8 million on November 17th 2016, thus regaining it’s original achievement.
47. Was discovered by Photographer, David Conover, whilst working in The Radio Plane Munitions Factory in the Fall of 1944 or Spring of 1945, depending on sources.
48. Now known as the, “Me Too” movement, Marilyn was one of the first Stars to speak out on the, “Hollywood Wolves” in a 1953 article for Motion Picture Magazine entitled, “Wolves I Have Known”. The most famous incident being with the Head of Columbia Studios, Harry Cohn, who requested Marilyn join him on his yacht for a weekend away in Catalina Island. Marilyn asked if his wife would be joining them, which, as you can imagine – did not go down well and her contract was not renewed with the Studio. Marilyn made only one film with Columbia during her six month contract, this being Ladies Of The Chorus (1948) which was shot in just ten days!
49. Loved animals dearly and adopted a variety of pets over the years. These included a basset hound called Hugo and parakeets, Clyde, Bobo and Butch with Husband Arthur Miller.  A number of cats including a persian breed called Mitsou in 1955 and Sugar Finney in 1959. Her most famous pet was gifted to her in March or April of 1961 by friend, Frank Sinatra, a little white maltese named Maf. His full name was Mafia Honey, as a humorous reference to Sinatra’s alleged connections to the Mob. After Marilyn’s death, Maf went to live with Frank Sinatra’s secretary, Gloria Lovell.
50. The book she was reading at the time of her death was Harper Lee’s, To Kill A Mocking Bird.
51. One of the movies she starred in was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture and won, this being All About Eve (1950) at The 23rd Academy Awards on March 29th 1951. It ended up being nominated for 14 Oscars, a record at the time and has only been matched by Titanic (1997) and La La Land (2016).
52. Her first magazine cover was photographed by Andre de Dienes in December 1945 for Family Circle, released on April 26th 1946.
53. Joined The William Morris Agency on December 7th 1948.
54. Was right handed, not left as often believed.
55. Third Husband Arthur Miller wrote the screenplay for Marilyn’s last completed film, The Misfits (1961) which was originally written as a short story for Esquire Magazine in 1957. After the tragic ectopic pregnancy Marilyn endured in August of 1957, friend and Photographer, Sam Shaw suggested to Miller he alter his short story specifically for her. Ironically the making of this film culminated in their divorce and Marilyn stating,
“He could have written me anything and he comes up with this. If that’s what he thinks of me then I’m not for him and he’s not for me.” 56. Was Author, Truman Capote’s original choice for the role of Holly Golightly in Breakfast At Tiffany’s (1961) however, she was advised to turn it down by her Acting Coach, Paula Strasberg, who did not think the role of a prostitute would be good for her image. Writer George Axelrod, who wrote the Screenplay for Bus Stop (1956) and the play, The Seven Year Itch, ironically ended up being the Screenwriter for this movie.
Capote said this regarding Marilyn,
“I had seen her in a film and thought she would be perfect for the part. Holly had to have something touching about her . . . unfinished. Marilyn had that.”
57. Second Husband Joe Dimaggio had The Parisian Florists deliver red roses on Marilyn’s grave twice a week, for twenty years, from August 1962 until September 1982. Marilyn had told him how William Powell used to do this for Jean Harlow after her death and he reportedly vowed to do the same after their Wedding Ceremony. After the 20 years he then donated to a children’s charity, as he thought it would be a nice way to honour her memory. They also created the flower arrangements for her casket at her funeral.
58. The following five Directors directed Marilyn in more than one movie;
– John Huston; The Asphalt Jungle (1950) and The Misfits (1961) – Richard Sale;  A Ticket To Tomahawk (1950) and Let’s Make It Legal (1951) – Howard Hawks; Monkey Business (1952) and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) – Billy Wilder; The Seven Year Itch (1955) and Some Like It Hot (1959) – George Cukor; Let’s Make Love (1960) and Something’s Got To Give (1962)
59. Was an illegitimate child, which unfortunately was attached with a lot of stigma in the 1920s. Her mother, Gladys, listed her then husband Edward Mortenson on the Birth Certificate, although it is commonly accepted that her real father was Charles Stanley Gifford, as Gladys left Edward on May 26th 1925. Gladys had an affair with him, which ended when she announced her pregnancy and he never acknowledged or met Marilyn, although she tried multiple times over the years to speak with him. 
60. Stayed in a number of foster homes during her childhood,
– George and Emma Atkinson; February 1934 – September 1934 – Enid and Sam Knebelcamp; Fall of 1934 – Harvey and Elsie Giffen; January 1935 – March 1935 – Grace and “Doc” Goddard; April 1935 – September 1935 and June 1937 – November 1937 and end of 1940 – February 1942 – Ida Martin; November 1937 – August 1938 – “Aunt Ana” Lower; August 1938  – End of 1940 and February 1942 
61. Had her hand and footprints immortalized in cement at Graumans Chinese Theatre on June 26th 1953, with Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) co-star, Jane Russell. Marilyn would place a rhinestone in the dot of the letter “i” as a reference to her character, “Lorelei Lee” but it was sadly stolen. This was an incredibly special moment for her, as she often talked about placing her hands and feet in the many prints there, when she spent her weekends at the Theatre as a child, especially in 1933 and 1934.
“When I was younger, I used to go to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and try to fit my foot in the prints in the cement there. And I’d say “Oh, oh, my foots too big. I guess that’s out.” I did have a funny feeling later when I finally put my foot down into that wet cement, I sure knew what it really meant to me, anything’s possible, almost.”
62. The famous gold lamé dress worn in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) and designed by William Travilla, was deemed too risqué by the censors. Unfortunately for fans, this meant that the musical number, “Down Boy” was cut from the film and we only glimpse a few seconds of the dress from behind, on screen.
63. Due to the censors, the original, “Diamond’s Are A Girl’s Best Friend” costume was changed to the now iconic pink dress with black bow. Originally it was to be a diamond encrusted two piece, which was extremely daring for the then Motion Picture Hays Code.
64. Loved Erno Lazlo Skin Cream, Vaseline and Nivea Moisturizer.
65. Had she completed Something’s Got To Give (1962), Marilyn would have been the first Star in a major Motion Picture to appear nude on film. As she passed before it was completed the achievement went to fellow Blonde Bombshell, Jayne Mansfield in, Promises! Promises (1963).
66. Met Queen Elizabeth II in England at the Empire Theater in Leicester Square whilst attending the Premiere of, “The Battle Of The River Plate“ on October 29th 1956.
67. The Misfits (1961) was both Marilyn and Clark Gable’s last completed films. Clark died 12 days after filming finished, on November 16th 1960. The film was released on Clark’s would be 60th Birthday, February 1st 1961 and Marilyn passed 18 months later.
68. As Marilyn died before the completion of Something’s Got To Give (1962) it ended up being remade with Doris Day and James Garner, entitled, Move Over Darling! (1963). The film was originally intended to be a remake of, My Favourite Wife (1940) which starred Cary Grant.
69. Signed a recording contract with RCA Records on September 1st 1953. One of her songs from River of No Return (1954) entitled, “File My Claim” sold 75,000 copies in its first three weeks of release.
70. Was admitted to the Payne Whitney Psychiatric Clinic on February 10th 1961 by her then Psychiatrist, Marianne Kris. Originally thought to be for rest and rehabilitation, following her divorce from Arthur Miller and the strain of filming The Misfits. However, Marilyn was placed on the security ring and held against her will. Thankfully, she was able to contact ex Husband, Joe Dimaggio, who stated he would, “Take the hospital apart brick by brick” if she was not released and after three days of emotional trauma, she left.
71. Visited the following Countries;
– Canada – (July – August 1953) – Japan (February 1954) – Korea (Feburary 1954) – England (July – November 1956) – Jamaica (January 1957) – Mexico (February 1962)
72. Purchased her only home, 12305 Fifth Helena Drive on February 8th 1962, where she would tragically pass just under 6 months later.
73. The home had the following tile located on the front paving entrance saying, “cursum perficio” meaning, “my journey ends here.” The title is still there to this day.
74. Her final interview was published in LIFE Magazine on August 3rd 1962 and was written by Richard Meryman.
75. Aside from her millions of fans, had a staunch group of supporters affectionately known as, “The Monroe Six” who followed Marilyn around New York during her time there. Their nickname for Marilyn was, “Mazzie” and they became so acquainted that Marilyn actually once invited them for a picnic at her home.
76. First married at just sixteen years old, this was to avoid returning to the Orphanage she had spent almost two years in as a child.
77. Supported numerous charity events, most famously riding a pink elephant in Madison Square Garden, to support the Arthritis and Rheumatic Affections Association on March 30th 1955.
78. Left 25% of her Estate to her then Psychiatrist, Marianne Kris and 75% to mentor and friend, Lee Strasberg. For reference, her Will was last updated on January 1961 – a month before she entered the Payne Whitney Hospital on the advice of Marianne Kris.
79. At the time of it’s release, The Misfits (1961) turned out to be the most expensive black and white movie ever made, costing a budget of $4 million dollars.
80. The Premiere of The Seven Year Itch was held on her 29th Birthday, on June 1st 1955, she attended with ex Husband, Joe Dimaggio.
81. Laid to rest at Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery on August 8th 1962 at 1:00 PM, with friend and mentor Lee Strasberg delivering the Eulogy. 
82. Although so often associated with diamonds, actually wasn’t that fond of jewellery stating, “People always ask me if I believe diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Frankly, I don’t.” 
83. Spent her 36th Birthday filming Something’s Got To Give (1962) and then attending a Charity Event for muscular dystrophy at the Chavez Ravin Dodger Stadium, which also happened to be her last public appearance.
84. Whilst recovering in hospital from an appendectomy in April 1952, Marilyn asked long time Makeup Artist and friend, Allan “Whitey” Snyder to do her makeup, should she pass before him. She gave him a gold money clip with the inscription, “Whitey Dear, while I’m still warm, Marilyn” and he did fulfill this promise to her.
85. Converted to Judaism for third husband, Arthur Miller on July 1st 1956.
86. Despite appearing in 30 films, she only actually dies in one, that being her breakout movie, Niagara (1953) where her character Rose Loomis, is strangled by her Husband George, played by Joseph Cotten.
87. Moved to New York City in 1955 and attended The Actors Studio, after breaking her Film Contract with 20th Century Fox. This was for a number of reasons, mainly years of low pay, unsatisfactory scripts and lack of creative control. A new contract would finally be reinstated on December 31st.
88. Repurchased a white Baby Grand Piano that her mother, Gladys, owned during their time living together in 1933. After Marilyn passed it would then be sold at the Christies Auction of her Estate in 1999 to none other than, Mariah Carey for $632,500.
89. Wore long hair pieces in River of No Return (1954) and a medium length wig in The Misfits (1961). The first I can only assume was due to the time period and setting of a Western and the second was due to the bleach damage her hair had suffered. After the filming in 1960, she wore the wig a couple of times in public events and then reverted back to her normal hair.
90. Like all students, it was tradition to perform in front of each other in The Actors Studio and on February 17th 1955, Marilyn acted out a scene from “Anna Christie” with Maureen Stapleton. Although it was an unwritten rule that students were not meant to applaud one another, an eruption of cheers and clapping happened after Marilyn had finished.
“Everybody who saw that says that it was not only the best work Marilyn ever did, it was some of the best work ever seen at Studio, and certainly the best interpretation of Anna Christie anybody ever saw. She achieved real greatness in that scene.”
– Actor Ellen Burstyn, on recalling Marilyn’s performance.
91. Used the pseudonym, “Zelda Zonk“, when trying to remain incognito.
92. Marilyn’s mother, Gladys Baker, suffered from Paranoid Schizophrenia and after various stays in institutions, was declared insane on January 15th 1935, when Marilyn was just 8 years old. After 10 years she was released and managed to retain various cleaning jobs and had developed an intense interest in Christian Science. However, by 1951 she was back in various institutions and would stay in the Rockhaven Sanitarium until 1967. Even after death, Marilyn continued to cover her mother’s care payments and Gladys would go on to outlive her for 22 years.
93. Favourite photograph of herself was taken by Cecil Beaton on February 22nd 1956.
94. Last professional photos were taken by Bert Stern, famously known as “The Last Sitting” for Vogue Magazine on June 23rd, July 10th and 12th 1962. Allan Grant took the LIFE Magazine interview pictures in her home, on July 4th and 9th 1962. Whilst George Barris took his photos for Cosmopolitan Magazine, the previous weekend on the 29th and 30th of June, until July 1st 1962. ______________________________________________________________________________
To those of you who took the time to read through all 3000+ words, thank you! It truly means more to me than you know and I really hope it’s shed some light on the truly special person Marilyn was and made you hold a good thought for her on her big day.
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Happy 94th Birthday Marilyn! Today is a very special day, it's Marilyn's Birthday! Can you believe that if she were still alive,  Marilyn would have been turning 94 years old today - just two months younger than the Queen herself!
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puckinghell · 4 years ago
Text
Wanting Is Enough | Leon Draisaitl
Summary: seven // august by Taylor Swift Words: 2k Note: I was just minding my own business, thinking I wasn’t gonna bother with the folklore project anymore, when someone asked if I would write for Leon. Does this answer your question? Not proofread, we die like men. 
--
Leon remembers you.
Sure, it’s a little fuzzy around the edges, the way memories will get when they’re stored away for so long. He was only seven when he knew you, and the storyline has become frazzled; he doesn’t always remember your face exactly, and he knows your name only because his mom told him.
He still remembers he loved you, though. Thinks he loves you still, now.
He remembers the swing over the creek. It had felt like a million feet in the sky, back then, but looking back it was only a tiny swing built with ropes and planks found at random sheds around the neighborhood. He doesn’t know how many of the neighbor’s kids had helped built it, but he remembers how you used to giggle as you swung across the creek.
You loved the creek, told him time and time again how it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Sometimes, you said it was the only beautiful thing in the world, and that’s where Leon would disagree.
After all, you were beautiful, too.
You never jumped into the water, always too scared, even though he used to tell you it’d be fine.
“I wouldn’t let anything hurt you,” he said, and your smile was always soft.
“I know. Still not jumping.”
There were other things you would trust him to protect you from, though.
“I think your house is haunted,” Leon said, wrapping his small arms around your tiny body. You were shivering a little, tears streaking down your face. “That’s why your dad is always mad.”
Your dad would scream all the time, so loudly Leon could hear it even from his house. You lived next to him but the houses weren’t that close together, and Leon didn’t think it was normal that he could hear.
His mom would tell him to ignore it, but how could he? If your dad was screaming, that meant you were crying, Leon had learned, and if you were crying he couldn’t just do nothing.
So he climbed through your window.
It wasn’t easy but Leon was strong for his age and there was a big oak tree next to your house that could be used as a ladder if only he managed to jump high enough the reach the first branch.
Somehow he managed to get into your room and you’d ran to him immediately, throwing yourself at him until he hugged you tight.
Even at that age, there was nothing Leon hated more than to see you cry.
“You should come live with me,” Leon mumbled into your ear. “We can be pirates, and then you won’t have to cry.”
“If I go live with you, would I learn how to skate?” you sniffed in response. You’d been bugging Leon about teaching you how to skate, because he was so good at it and you loved watching him fly across the ice.
He always looked so free, and you longed to feel that type of freedom in the form of the icy wind on your face.
Suddenly, before Leon could have answered, another thought occurred to you.
“Your parents wouldn’t want me to live with you.”
Leon shrugged. “You can hide in the closet whenever they come into my bedroom. Or you could pack your dolls and a sweater and we’ll move to India forever.”
Of course neither of these options were possible, but at age seven, it feels like everything in the world is a possibility if you just want it hard enough.
You had never wanted anything more.
“Why India?” you questioned.
Leon noticed your breathing had calmed down while talking to him, and you weren’t crying anymore. Even for that reason alone, he started talking more; about your neighbor across the street who came from India and gave you candy all the time, about his white family dog that had rolled through the freshly mowed grass and ended up colored key lime green, about pirates and princesses and a talking mouse.
He made up stories until you fell asleep, and then he wondered if one day, the story of you two would become a story that people told each other, too. He liked the thought of that: your love would last until nobody told your story anymore.
And Leon wanted your love to last forever.
--
But things don’t usually go the way you want them to.
--
The August heat is sweltering, sticky and heavy the way only August can be. It’s not like that in July, not in Germany, where July still holds a hint of spring, with crispy mornings and darkness setting early evening. In September, the leaves will change color and the air will hold the smell of rain, but in August, there’s just the heat.
“I can’t believe you canceled on me for him.” Your best friend’s voice doesn’t sound upset per se, but it sounds disbelieving. To be fair, it’s really not something you would normally do.
But.
Leon is lying face down in the grass, tiny droplets of sweat forming onto the tanned skin of his back where his spine dips. You can’t imagine it’s comfortable to have the grass pressing into his face, even though it was freshly mowed this morning; you can still smell the scent of it, if you really try.
“I’m sorry,” you tell her before you hang up. You’re not sure if you mean it.
When you canceled your plans to go swimming with her, this morning, you hadn’t even known if Leon was going to call at all. You canceled just in case he would, and you’d been glad for it when your phone rang early afternoon.
“Meet me behind the mall,” was his greeting. “Ice cream. My treat.”
The heat melted your ice cream fast enough that it was dripping down your fingers before you could even get halfway through, and Leon had laughed at you as he stuffed his entire ice cream cone in his mouth in two bites.
You only got him back three months ago.
You let your eyes fall back onto Leon. His eyes are closed, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek, but you know he’s not sleeping.
Sometimes, when you look at him, you remember that you’re on a time limit, and you wish you could just write your name into his skin, so he’ll always just be yours. You don’t like the idea that he’ll go back to Canada and belong to the city of Edmonton, and forget about you.
You allow yourself the simply pleasure of tracing his spine with your index finger, featherlight; his muscles jump where your finger passes.
“Hmm,” Leon hums, not opening his eyes. It’s an acknowledgement that he’s awake, but it doesn’t seem like he feels the need to move or say anything.
To be fair, it’s way too hot for that.
“It’s kinda crazy that we ran into each other like that,” you whisper. Your hand reaches the part of his spine where his back meets his ass and you let your hand rest there, not daring to go any further.
Leon opens his eyes, now.
“I recognized you right away,” he says, with a smile. “We hadn’t talked in years.”
“Since we were seven,” you agree.
“But it felt like we never missed a beat.”
--
You ran into Leon at a coffee shop, back in May, and you’d just been pouring sugar into your latte when you’d heard your name, in a voice that was foreign and familiar all at the same time.
You didn’t have to search your brain for who it was.
“Leon!”
Leon had been all smiles and polite chatter, but he looked so tired and worn out, and you weren’t the slightest bit surprised when he ordered a triple espresso.
“You won’t sleep for the next week,” you’d joked, and Leon had replied: “Wasn’t going to, anyway.”
You still don’t know why he’d immediately decided to trust you, but he’d asked you to sit down for coffee and you hadn’t been busy so you’d agreed.
He told you about where he worked now, in Edmonton. Played hockey for a living, in the NHL. He’d come home for the summer because they’d not made the playoffs, again. You didn’t really know exactly what that meant but you could tell it pained Leon to talk about it, so you hadn’t asked.
He said he was tired, and that he wished he could skip summer entirely, but also wished summer would last forever. That he felt like he could sleep for months, but when the night fell, his brain never seemed to quiet down enough for him to actually fall asleep.
That he remembered you, from when you were seven. Leon’s parents had moved when you were seven, and there hadn’t really been any way for you to stay friends. But he remembered a lot.
You talked about the swing over the creek, that wasn’t there anymore. It broke when you were nine, sent a neighboring kid down into the creek with a splash. It was one of the kids that used to make mean jokes about your father, so you hadn’t felt bad for him.
Your father left when you were 11, and you hadn’t really felt bad about that, either.
When you were 8, you dressed up like a pirate for Halloween, but it didn’t feel quite the same, without Leon.
You still braided your hair. Leon still knew how to braid it for you.
At the end of it, Leon had said he would like to see you again and you’d exchanged numbers.
You don’t think you’ve ever wanted a call so much in your life.
--
There’s a small problem, with your current arrangement with Leon.
Namely, that he’s going to go back to Edmonton at the end of August, and you’re falling in love with him.
You should’ve known.
“Want another one?”
Leon holds up the half empty bottle of wine, raising a questioning eyebrow. You’d been staring into space, you realize, and he noticed it, because he somehow always notices everything about you.
“Sure,” you answer, holding out your glass and letting him pour the wine.
There’s a fire crackling in your backyard. The night isn’t cold, on the contrary, but fires are somewhat of a summer staple around the neighborhood and Leon has made it somewhat of a hobby to build the most perfect one.
“You’ve been thinking very loudly,” Leon says.
You turn to look at him. The orange glow of the fire illuminates the bright blue of his eyes, and there’s shadows cast onto his face. It makes him even more beautiful than he always is and there’s almost something magical about it.
You almost say it, then.
What happens when I lose you?
Almost, but not quite. 
“Thinking about you,” you answer instead, and it’s not a lie but it’s not the truth either. Leon takes it the way you knew he would, and he reaches out and extends his hand towards you. You stand up and go to him willingly, let yourself curl into his lap, your face hidden in the crook where his neck meets his shoulder, his strong arms wrapped around you like armor.
He’s everywhere, all around you, and it becomes less scary when you’re this close to him.
Leon’s voice is soft when he mutters you name.
“Yeah?”
“I know this is probably not the right thing to say this, but I need you to know that I want August to last forever.”
He doesn’t have to tell you what the words really mean, beneath the surface, where the truth always hides.
It can’t happen, but I want this. I want us.
You suppose sometimes, wanting is enough. At least for right now.
You kiss him, then, press your lips against his in the most careful way. He tastes like red wine and like the smoke of the fire, the freshly mowed grass, the heat of the day.
He feels like summer.
--
When Leon goes home, he kisses you so deeply you can feel it tingle in your toes, but he doesn’t promise you he’ll call.
You guess you can’t live for the hope of it all forever, and sometimes wanting isn’t enough after all. You hadn’t really thought that it would be.
You’d always known you’d lose him to hockey: and maybe in a way, he was never yours to lose.
So August slips away into a moment in time, sipped away with a bottle of red wine, tangled up in white sheets. And September comes with her golden leaves and the crispy mornings and the rain heavy in the air, and Leon doesn’t call and summer feels like forever ago.
But you remember Leon. And Leon remembers you.
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lostmoonbunny · 3 years ago
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Greetings from a Panini World
Yes, I did call this a "panini". I'm hesitant to use the word "pandemic" as I feel many of us have a knee jerk reaction to hide from everything once hearing or seeing that word. However that's the current stat of events. The year? 2021 Where I am located its very much so post quarantine and society has attempted to "return to normal" but its impossible. Between the anti- maskers, anti-vaxxers, and everything else it truly is impossible. "What do you mean?" you ask, well allow me to take you on a journey of a human that has gone through this "history in the making" and share what its been like since January 2020 to September 2021 from the eyes of someone that lived it. -I will preface this with saying, there will be gaps, I have trouble with object permanence, concept of time, and I have memory issues due to past concussions so bear with me as we stumble through the memories of my experiences.
So here we go... Let's travel back to January 2020.
2020..Ahhh the big year of "Clear vision".. HA! No, not today. What I remember was being concerned about this horrible virus but didn't think it would make its way to where I lived.. ( I would be unsurprisingly corrected shortly after this.) I worked, had my birthday, and it was quickly February. The virus was quickly spreading and making its way downtown walking fast faces past.. oops..sorry I got sidetracked, it was making its way down throughout the nation. We celebrated my partner's birthday, and soon after the month was over. February always flies by. March...ahh March, this is where everything started changing for me. Many states were shutting down around us fairly quickly too. ( I have opinions about how the US should've shut down sooner, but we're not here for politics...but yes it should've happened sooner.) My partner, younger brother and I made a last minute trip to the next state for a day trip. Which was fun don't get me wrong but the places we went to shut down for the state's quarantine the next day. My state would follow barely a week later. I was furloughed. That..that was an experience. All of us received the same message as it was a group message. It stated that we were all effectively unemployed ( so we could apply for benefits if we chose to) and that if and when we reopen that they hoped we could come back. I immediately messaged my boss and the boss that messaged us all and double checked learning that I was on the "short list" for rehires. That made me fee a bit better but I was still sad. My partner was considered "an Essential worker" so they worked through the entire lockdown. I swear Animal Crossing New Horizons is one of the only things that got me through that.. from this all the days blended together till June. Not don't get me wrong, plenty of things happened on a personal growth side that was beneficial like I started going to therapy, got even closer to my cousin that lives on the west coast, I played with my cats and dogs more, I caught up on sleep, all sorts of things but the way it had to happen sucked. Also in this time period, my favorite uncle contracts the virus and is put in the ICU on a ventilator. I don't remember how long he was in there but he made it. He is now healthy and survived the virus. So lets fast forward to June. My place of work reopened under specific guidelines. Now I don't know if I've ever mentioned this but I live in the southeast. The southeast, in summer is AWFUL. Its hot, its humid, and then if it DOES rain that humidity just goes up and it gets worse. To give you an idea while the temperature might say its 84 degrees F but the real feel might be 95F. I don't know why they don't just say 95F but that's how it is the southeast... So imagine if you will mid June, being reopened with special rules, masks required for everyone 5 years old and older, and no buildings but restrooms open to the public. The amount of rude, hateful, uncaring people almost made me lose my complete faith in humanity, and its not very high to begin with. Also for context, I work in retail. I feel that says enough there. These rules extend till the end of the year and into part of 2021. While all of this is happening the US is having their presidential elections and everyone has crawled out of the woodwork that you had hoped would stay there. At this point I'm hoping for the best because we really need a paradigm shift in society. We need to truly need to change as a society and in many way, catch up to the rest of the world. I finally gave in a got to tiktok and realize that it is very much a time devourer. I've realized that I feel as if the term "Cassflux" fits how I feel about my gender best, and fully accepted my journey on the path of being a witch.
Lets move in to October, October I ( and my partner) travel to Texas (cautiously) for my cousin's socially distant wedding and our anniversary. That was amazing and the slight escape from reality was truly needed. On our way back we made a stop in NOLA and it was a fun visit, but I realized my baby witch self hadn't veiled or warded myself nearly enough and it got all of "spidey senses" all out of wack. knowing now what I should've done, I do want to go back. The rest of the year went by both incredibly slow and yet in a flash. The US elected a new president, I was working as hard a possible to avoid the virus as much as possible and my partner had gotten a new job with a different company that was making them more happy. So this brings us to 2021. This is the year that I feel that I am truly coming into my own despite living in the middle of a global Panda Express. January brings my turning a landmark age and celebrating it with a new hair style, new outlook on life, progress made in therapy, more self acceptance, and just overall more happiness. The world is still the same, better, but also worse. The vaccine is being produced, distributed, and made accessible. February brings another birthday with my partner's birthday. March rolls around and we jokingly celebrate our work's closing a year prior and then continue to work. The vaccine is made available to retail and food workers so I go and get the first round of the "Dolly Parton" vaccine with my co workers. (If you were wondering its Moderna) We go and receive the second dose later at the correct time. April and May kind of blend together for me because that the ramp up for the busy season at work. June & July are busy but everything is moving forwards. I finally take a step more into the current era of technology and upgrade my phone and computer. ( After several years of going back and forth of not wanting current gen tech or not, because that stuff be expensive!) I reconnect with an old friend and we have a much healthier friendship.
August....hecking August.. We are short staffed at work, busy as heck! My partner is also hecking busy by being called in for almost every problem. The world is deffo changing. The US is in a state of nah nah a boo boo with vaccinating vs not, virus outbreaks having an uptick, universities starting back, Texas deciding that the government gets a say in a woman's reproductive rights... sorry I'll try to not get political. My ( like many others) using tiktok as a means of escape from this reality.. I'm so beyond mentally exhausted by everything that I just want to be somewhere that I can breathe a bit more easy... Its deffo not the southeastern US. September: I. am. exhausted. Working a bunch. Dealing with people doubting the virus, the usual Karens and Richards, counting down my days to vacation. My partner is beyond exhaustion. They've worked more in the past six weeks that they have in two years. The 20th year of 9/11 comes and goes. Not to sound like a country song, but remembering where I was at the moment the planes hit is something that has stuck with me...despite my concussions. I was in my English class and its was between classes and they had the tvs on. So many parents were coming and calling their kids out the school got to the point they weren't going to let kids leave.. ( if the parents complained enough they did.. I was a poorer kid in a more affluent school) My parents weren't going to take me out of school so I finished the day out in a state of confusion, not understanding the gravitas of what was going on, and not understanding was the emotions I was feeling watching the crashes were. I don't claim to even comprehend the emotions of this date to people who lost loved ones in the crashes, or in the oncoming days of the country going to war, I just know how it felt as a child to see something so major happening. I feel its like the kids now living through this panic at the disco. [[If you read this and you lost someone due to either of these horrific events please know that I in no way am invalidating or belittling your feelings or experiences. I merely am trying to describe all of how I feel throughout 2020- roughly current day 2021 and these are the things I was thinking and feeling on this particular day.]]
The days start to blend again as I attempt to countdown the days till my short vacation. Once that starts I get to finally relax as does my partner. The amount of sleep my partner has gotten is incredible and they deserve it dang it! This brings us to today, The last day of September 2021. This are changing at work and I'm not wholly sure of how I feel but I know it will be an interesting discussion for me to have with my therapist coming up. That's all I've got for now.. Hopefully I'll pop back in sooner to give more perspective on what its like living through all of this chaos. Just keep moving forward.
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thejolexgroupchat · 4 years ago
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Hi! Love all the fics you guys write :) could you guys do one where Jo and Alex were together before Alex even started his intern year? Like idk they met somehow while Jo was in college & Alex was in led school and started dating. Everyone tries to hook up with Alex but he’s got this super secret girlfriend that everyone makes fun of him for. They could still have a large age gap or they could be like a year or two apart. Basically, I just want to see Alex holding out for Jo and being super proud & showing her off when she gets into the residency program.
the one where they met in med school - part one
So... we absolutely LOVED this prompt, took it and ran with it. This originally was supposed to be a one-shot, but it kind of grew out of control and became what it is now.
This fic was written by @iamtrebleclefstories (Leya), @doc-pickles (Nina), and tumblr-less Nat
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                                                           ———
                                                       (July 2006)
“Hey! I miss you,” Jo smiled as she talked into the phone. “How was your first week as an intern?”
“Honestly? It sucked. But it was also amazing. I don’t know if that makes sense,” Alex replied, shrugging although he knew she couldn’t see him. “And for the record, I miss you more.”
“That’s impossible. You’re so busy you don’t even have time to miss me,” Jo chuckled. “Me on them other hand? My life revolves around school and studying. Studying isn’t as fun without you around. I miss our study dates.”
“I do too,” Alex sighed. He really did miss her. A lot. All the time. He’d only been living in Seattle for a month and it was definitely a challenge. He really didn’t know how he was going to make it through the next year without her. “But at least you have Lexie there. You’re not completely alone.”
“Yeah you’ve got a point,” Jo hummed. “But Lexie doesn’t do all the things for me that you do, if you know what I mean.”
Alex groaned, “Stop it. We’re way too far away from each other to do this. I need you so bad right now and I can’t have you and it sucks.”
“Tell me about it,” Jo agreed. She couldn’t believe how far they’d come. She and Alex had been together for about 2 ½ years now. In all that time, they’d been attached at the hip. He was her best friend and she was his. It was odd not seeing him everyday. It was unnatural to sleep without him beside her at night like he’d been doing for years. “I have a week-long break next month though and I was thinking of coming to visit. I’ve saved up a bunch of money from tutoring undergrads.”
“Would it be bad of me to just keep you locked up in my apartment the whole time you’re here, because that sounds appealing,” Alex’s words sparked a string of laughter from Jo, making him sigh down the line. “I miss hearing your laugh and that makes me feel pathetic. It feels like I’m in one of those stupid rom coms you and Lexie forced me to watch all the time.” “We didn’t force you, you readily agreed to it, Karev,” Lexie’s voice echoed faintly in the background, Jo shushing her as the two bickered quietly. 
“Am I on speaker?” 
“Um… maybe?” Jo shrugged, knowing that he couldn’t see her through the phone. “You can’t possibly be embarrassed. Lexie has seen and heard worse from you.”
“I sure have,” Lexie yelled out from her spot across the room. “Keep going! Don’t let me stop you from being all mushy and talking about how much you miss Jo.”
Alex rolled his eyes, “Keep your comments to yourself, let me enjoy my girlfriend for a little while please.”
“So, tell me. Did you make any friends yet?” Jo asked. 
“What is this? Middle school?” Alex scoffed. “I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to become a surgeon. A kickass, rich, plastic surgeon.”
“Yes I’m sure between the scut work and the enemas you have plenty of time to dream about all the money you’re gonna make,” Jo giggled down the line. 
“Oh, you just wait. When you’re an intern I’m going to have you doing all my scut,” Alex warned playfully. “You’ll be sorry for making fun of my career aspirations.”
“I just can’t see you going into plastics,” Jo confessed, a large grin on her face. “Not that you wouldn’t be good at it, but I just don’t see it. Maybe general or ortho!”
“General? Wow I didn’t realize you thought so little of me,” Alex leaned back onto the brick wall behind him as he listened to the sounds of Jo’s quiet laughter. 
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with general,” Jo insisted. She groaned as she saw the time. The worst part about Alex moving across the country was the time difference. “I wish I could talk more, but I really have to get ready for bed. I will try to call you tomorrow evening.”
“I’m on-call tomorrow,” Alex revealed sadly. “I hate this. I went from going to bed next to you every night to struggling to even find some time during the day to talk.”
“I know,” Jo sighed. “I hate it, too. Of course I wish you were here, but I am so proud of you.  You’re living the dream right now, Alex. If that means I have to miss you for a little while, so be it.”
God, he really loved this woman. Alex smiled and clutched the phone tightly, “I love you. So much.”
“I love you too,” Jo answered. It still made her heart beat quickly whenever she heard him say those words. He’d been the first person to ever say them to her and mean it. “Go kick some ass.”
“I will,” Alex chuckled. “Goodnight.” 
“Goodnight.”
Alex hung up his phone and sighed as he walked back into the bar across the street from the hospital. He walked back up to the group of his fellow interns and ordered a beer, staring at his phone for a moment before finally putting it back in his pocket. 
“What’s up with you?” Yang asked. “You look all, mopey.” 
“It’s nothing,” Alex shook his head.
“No, she’s right. You look depressed,” Grey seconded. 
“I’m fine,” Alex took a swig of his beer. “I’m just a little homesick.”
“You know what will cheer you up? Getting laid. You see that girl over there,” Yang pointed to a woman across the bar with red hair and blue eyes. “She’s been eyeing you for a while now. I’m sure if you asked she’d say yes.”
“I don’t need to get laid,” Alex narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re uptight. Isn’t he Stevens?” Yang asked the woman he’d identified as Dr. Model. 
“He is,” Stevens nodded, laying her hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I know we’ve only known each other for like a week, but this is the most disappointed and depressed that I’ve seen you. And that’s saying a lot, considering that we are surgical interns and basically slaves to the hospital.”
"I'm not depressed and I do not need to get laid," Alex grumbled, taking a swig of his beer. "If you must know, I was on the phone with my girlfriend."
"Evil Spawn has a girlfriend?" Cristina raised an eyebrow. "I didn't take you for a relationship type guy."
"Neither did I, but then I met her. So, just stop pestering and let me mope in peace."
"Wow. Karev has a heart," O'Malley chuckled and took a sip of his drink. "I didn't see that one coming."
“Oh screw you guys, why don’t you go get laid? Being so invested in someone else’s love life has gotta be a sign that you need to get some.”
                                                          ———
                                                   (August 2003)
“Hey! You’re Jo right?” 
Jo turned around to see a young woman with short brown hair and brown eyes smiling at her. Jo outstretched her hand, “Yes. I’m Jo. You’re Lexie, my lab partner right?”
“Yup!  It’s so nice to officially meet you,” Lexie shook Jo’s hand. 
She seemed like a sweet and perky person. The exact kind of person that Jo didn’t normally associate with. For the longest time, Jo didn’t have any friends or get attached to anyone. She had two friends the entirety of her undergrad and typically didn’t look to make any more. Jo supposed it would be nice to have someone, "It's nice to meet you, too."
                                              (September 2003)
"I can't believe you actually did that!" Jo exclaimed as she and Lexie walked down to the lab. "You became another one of Karev's conquests."
"Honestly, I don't even regret it," Lexie confessed, a large smile on her face. "There is a reason why Leah is so hung up on him. He knows what he's doing. You should go for it. Sleeping with him is like a right of passage or something."
"Ew, no way," Jo faked a gag. "He's an ass. I have much higher standards than Alex Karev."
They entered the lab to find the program's resident man-whore going over some samples. Jo had to admit, he was pretty hot. Alex Karev was cocky and charming and incredibly intelligent. He was always getting the highest grades and was every professor's favorite student. She was into him. But she'd never say it out loud.
"Hey, Lexie," Alex smirked as they walked over to their stations. He gave Jo a once over and looked at her with one of his signature crooked grins. "Hello Lexie's friend. You got a name?"
Jo considered staying quiet but finally decided to respond, "Jo Wilson."
"Nice, I like chicks with boys' names."
"Karev, " Lexie warned.
"What? I do. It's hot," Alex shrugged.
"Alex, stop sleeping with all the first years. It ruins them," Lexie admonished.
"I slept with you," Alex pointed out. 
"Yeah, and it's never going to happen again. Besides, Jo's my best friend," Lexie shrugged. "I'm protective of her."
                                                (October 2003)
“I told you I didn’t need you to follow me,” Jo grumbled. “I can take care of myself.”
"Calm down,  princess. There's no need to get your panties in a twist," Alex rolled his eyes at Jo who'd been yelling at him for the past few minutes. They'd been studying with a group of friends in the library when Jo decided to leave and Alex offered to walk her home. “I just don’t think you should be walking home alone with that fancy watch on your wrist that daddy probably gifted you. Can’t risk someone mugging the princess.” 
"Stop calling me princess!" Jo shouted, turning to face Alex as anger bubbled up inside of her. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself for a moment. "My mother left me at a fire station when I was two weeks old. I got bumped around foster homes until I was sixteen when I took matters into my own hands and started living out of a car. I parked it behind the gym of my high school so I could sneak in and use the showers before class. My home ec teacher--Ms. Schmidt--she’d let me do my laundry there for free. And yeah, I got into good schools because I worked my ass off. And when I walked across that stage at graduation, I didn’t have a cheering section filled with my richy-rich family. I had one person, Ms. Schmidt. That’s it. She’s the one who gave me this watch when I got into Med School. Her son works for the company.” 
Alex had the decency to look down at the ground ashamed. He walked up to the wall Jo was leaning against and stood beside her, “It is a nice watch.” 
“Thanks.” 
The next time they see each other, things are different. Understanding Jo’s background gave Alex a deeper appreciation for her work ethic. Even though they were in different years, Alex found himself seeking Jo out for projects and studying. Being around her made him want to be better. He wanted to excel in ways he hadn’t in the past. And that said a lot, considering he was already at the top of his class. 
So that’s why when he saw her sitting at the bar a couple weeks later, he decided to join her. They’d had an argument earlier in the day where some things were said. Alex walked up to the bar and grinned at the bartender, “A beer for me and another round for Hobo Jo. Let me guess… Thunderbird or is it straight paint thinner?” Alex looked back up at the bartender. “You got a little brown paper bag you can put that in?”
“Would you stop,” Jo sighed and looked at Alex. “I had no parents. I lived in my car. Yes I have trust issues, it comes with the territory.” 
“You need to stop acting like you’re the only person who ever had a crappy childhood,” Alex rolled his eyes slightly. 
“Oh yeah? How many foster homes did you get kicked out of before you moved into your car?” 
“Seventeen. And I didn’t live in my car. I went to juvie,” Alex took a sip of his drink. 
“Stop making fun of me,” Jo shook her head. 
“I’m not.” 
Jo’s face scrunched in interest, “Really?”
“And you’re actually lucky that your folks abandoned you. It means you didn’t have to watch your schizo mom go after your baby brother with a steak knife.” 
“Fine, fair,” Jo conceded. “But you never woke up in the middle of the night with junkies banging on your bedroom windshield, praying they’d get tired or bored before they put a rock through a window.”
“No, I didn’t,” Alex shook his head in response. “Because the junkie was my dad and he didn’t break windows, just fingers.” 
“Well, did you ever have foster parents that made you and nineteen other kids sleep on cots in the basement? Locking the doors, lights out, so that if you had to pee in the middle of the night, you had to use buckets they set up along the wall. Buckets you couldn’t see because if you turned the lights on, the bigger kids would hold you down and take those buckets and--” Jo’s voice cracked slightly.
Alex bowed his head in sadness, “God… no, never.” 
“Me neither,” Jo shrugged. “Saw it in a movie on cable.” 
Alex’s mouth twitched into a shocked grin as he let out a few chuckles, “How did you get cable in your car?”
“I don’t live in my car anymore, jerk,” Jo giggled lightly. 
Her story must’ve done the trick to break the ice because before they knew it, Jo and Alex were well on their way to becoming best of friends. They laughed and joked together for hours, even going as far as fake crying to get out of paying their tab. 
“You know, you’re not half bad, Karev,” Jo grinned as she and Alex walked out of the bar. She clutched the sides of Alex’s jacket which he had so kindly allowed her to borrow. “I actually had a lot of fun tonight.” 
“So did I, Wilson,” Alex smiled back at her. “What do you say we grab some tacos and eat them in the back of my truck?”
“Sounds great to me.”
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lilyginnyblackv2 · 4 years ago
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Furuba Thought Post - S2 E12 SPOILERS!
Hey all! This thought post came out later than usual this week, and next week’s likely will too, since I start Summer Classes tomorrow for the juku I work at. Since I work at a Japanese juku in the States, the summer months (end of June, July, and August) are super busy for my juku (since the kids don’t have regular classes). The prep work has been keeping me busy lately as well (which is why I have a huge backup of likes that I need to get around to reblogging - whoops!). But, I wanted to get a something up this week!
I love both Hatori and Mayuko as individual characters, but the relationship is one that I’ve always been largely indifferent about. I thought maybe their moments being animated might make me less indifferent to them, and that did happen a bit, but I’m not a really bigger shipper of the two of them. That being said, I do like and appreciate their relationship, I just feel like it never gets developed enough for me to really latch onto it. Here we only see the beginnings of it really, and mostly just from Mayuko’s POV, but then after this we really don’t get much. The reboot still might rectify this a bit, but it might not either.
I do have to say though, that even though I have some issues with some of the sub translations in this episode sounding awkward, I think the translation did a better job of capturing the "blossoming" aspect of Mayu and Hatori's relationship. The fact that it is a very new relationship. I also think that the episode and translation did a good job of showing how Mayu's affection for Hatori grew over the time she spent, rather than feeling like another case of love at first sight like it did in the manga.
Regardless of all that though, there is a lot of really great stuff that gets touched on in this episode. As someone who is in her 30s and a teacher, I really feel like I can relate to Mayuko. Though, thankfully, neither of my parents push the whole “get married, have kids, settle down” stuff on me. Though, that could also be because I’m the youngest of my siblings. But when Mayuko was like, “Teachers are still pretty busy in the summer too!” I felt that, lol.
Really in this post I’m just going to focus on a few key moments and phrases that really stuck out to me (and speaking of phrases...the translation...this episode didn’t have any glaring mistranslations from what I could see, but there was a LOT of really awkward wording and phrasing). Moving along from that complaint though and on to the actual content:
- As a general overall statement on this episode - all of the humor hit perfectly and the dramatic/sad moments either really emotionally got to me and/or made me cry. So all of those moments and scenes are A++. Also, in general, the animators really went 120% with making sure everyone looked beautiful and hot this episode! (Outside of the old maid, bleh!) Nice!
- Shigure’s line of “Why don’t you just steal him away?” really speaks volumes about his character. Not in the sense that Shigure would actually do that ("steal" someone away, that is), but the fact that his first thought is to do something underhanded just...yeah. And, I just...Shitgure making a return! That moment really stands out in an episode like this one, where Shigure is (by and large) helping out his friend. But yeah, that line really does make me think about all the drama surrounding him and Akito and Kureno, and this is just a really great, subtle setup to all of that. 
- Speaking of subtle, I really do love how Furuba relies a lot on character body language. We don’t see enough of that in anime in general, tbh. The scene with Mayuko watching Hatori and Kana from the window and then trying to replicate that action of intimacy (reaching out and touching Shigure’s arm), but then getting nothing back in response (and the hesitant way she did it) was excellent. It highlighted how closed off (emotionally) she still was, how much of a wall existed between her and Shigure, and how empty their relationship really was.
- Mayuko and Shigure’s relationship is really realistic, especially for the age group they were at the time. Early to mid 20s is really when you see people get into relationships “just because.” Those periods are very transitional and uncertain, and it is a easy period in time to feel lost in, so engaging in relationships because of loneliness or boredom is really fitting. Though, Shigure also likely did it to stir things up and such too.
- This is a small thing, but I adore that Mayu calls Ayame “Aya-kun.” He’s the only one of the Mabudachi Trio that she does this with, and it shows how close they are and how they seem to just click as friends. It’s so odd, because when you first think about it, it seems odd that Mayuko would befriend Ayame, but then when you think about how she can see straight through Shigure’s BS, it makes more sense. Ayame may be a bit self-focused, but he is also extremely honest. He’ll say what he thinks and often has good intentions that are just executed horribly. So I think Mayuko appreciates the honesty. 
Also, Ayame is likely well read too, but while Shigure would probably be one of those a-holes that you see on the internet playing “devil’s advocate,” Ayame would likely just enthusiastically discuss literature and stuff with Mayuko. So I could see her connecting with him on that. 
- The scene with the old maid and the child crying...This is actually an issue in Japan that's come up a number of times before in the news. Situations like the elderly complaining about nursery schools/day cares and such being "too loud." Japan Times has a good article on this, but Tumblr gets weird with links, so just look up "nursery school too loud Japan" in Google and you'll be able to find them. I definitely remember reading about some other examples of this too a few years ago. 
In Japan there is an expectation that children will be loud, since they are still learning the ins and outs of society, but this whole idea, and what we see with the maid, kinda goes against this. Though the child that was shown in the episode is on the older side, getting to a point where loud, outbursts would be more frowned upon. Also, Japan has more elderly than young people nowadays, and that was even true back when Furuba was first published/coming out, so I feel it is likely connected to all of that as well.
- Anyway, I feel I personally relate better to the idea of suppressing your emotions now that I'm older. I just get it more. Though, I've always been a bit more of a guarded person, the older you are, the more you try to respond to something with raw or pure emotions, the more you are looked down upon. Though we know that Mayuko cried for Hatori, I feel it only started out that way. At first she was crying for him, but then I think she started crying for Kana, and herself, and that awful, failed relationship with Shigure - and just everything.
Takaya-sensei making Mayuko a teacher is also a pretty interesting job choice, since teachers in Japan are expected to act appropriately, to be remodels and do exhibit "do as I do" type of behavior (rather than "do as I say, not as I do" behavior). This was something that they drilled into us during my AET training in Japan. It's why teachers can get into serious trouble if they are caught with a side job, especially one that is "shady" in any way, shape, or form (like simply being a bartender). So, Mayuko has a profession that kind of reinforces suppression, model behavior, restricting oneself, self discipline, and etc. 
- Then we have Hatori, who has a similar situation with his profession. He's a doctor. Being a doctor requires being very self controlled over your emotions and feelings. The fact that he lost both of his parents when he was still kinda young and that he holds a lot of weight and responsibility on his shoulders because of the memory suppression technique and how he has had to use it over the years...and he likely had to grow up really fast. It makes you wonder if Hatori was ever really allowed to just openly and unabashedly cry, even as a kid.
- Of course, lastly, we have Hatori's clothes. He switches out of the restrictive, suit and tie combo and ends the episode in a loose white dress shirt that has the top buttons undone. This symbolizes Hatori's opening up to himself, his feelings, and to Mayuko. :)
There were a lot of really great shots in this episode. The way they transitioned from Kana being happy, to her being so broken up inside over what happened to Hatori, to her being happy post-memory suppression was very nicely done. And some of the imagery that they used for Shigure's comedic moments were excellent, haha.
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ms-maj · 5 years ago
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Jug’s Last Day
I know you guys were really jonesing for another songfic ;)
All of the gratitude to @bettycooper for her amaze beta and graphics skills. Cat, as always, thank you for turning my alphabet soup into a lovely word salad. You the best!
And to Sarah, @theheavycrown​, thank you for your support and friendship and believing in my words even when I don’t <3
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Oh when you left home and moved to Ohio
The summer had come to an end
My best friend goes I try to follow
Running as you disappear
Stay, you know how bad this hurts
It’s been three weeks and just gets worse
Come back to PA
Forever this time
Greg’s Last Day- The Starting Line
May 24
“So do you know when you’re leaving yet?” Archie asked quietly, trying not to draw the eye of their friends wading down the bank of the river.
Jughead shrugged, eyes cast down, kicking at the pebbled ground with the worn toe of his boot. “Not until August, I don’t think. Before school starts for sure. I think I get the summer at least.”
“Did you tell her?”
He stopped and sighed, head shaking no.
“Neither part I take?”
Jughead finally met his best friend’s eyes. What was sadness a moment ago is now abject horror. “Why would I do that to her? To me? I’m only going to be around for another two months, max—”
“Okay, okay!” Archie held up his hands defensively, dropping them when he noticed his friend’s attention had once again been captured by the meandering bank of Sweetwater River and the blonde ponytail that traced its path. He stepped forward to nudge Jughead’s shoulder with his own. “Then don’t tell her that thing, but you have to tell her that you’re leaving, Jug.”
“I know, Arch, I know.”
June 10
“How are we already seniors in high school, Jug?” Betty sat cross-legged on the cot in the back of the projection booth.
Jughead grunted in response, the bulk of his attention on the finicky machine in front of him.
“Maybe I’ll finally get a real date to homecoming this year, since Kevn has a boyfriend and all.”
His hands stilled on the projector. At thoughts of Betty in dresses of satin and lace, across every color of the spectrum, hair curled in soft waves over her shoulders, spinning out of his arms and onto the dance floor a smile crept to his lips. He could almost feel the warmth of her hand in his, hear the soft lilt of her voice when she says—  
“Juggie?” He’s snapped back to reality, the dream sequence bursting appropriately above her head as he turned to meet her questioning gaze, the dawning realization that all of those things will come to pass whether he’s in the picture or not sinks like hot lead in his stomach.
“Sorry, this thing’s a piece of shit. Always takes a while to get going. If you want, you can go find Kevin and Archie. I know a bunch of other kids from school are here, too, so you don’t have to sit here and watch me fight the projector,” he swallowed the bile down with the lie. The projector was old but well-cared for, and in all the years of the Twilight’s operation it had never failed.
“Oh,” her voice was hushed, almost disappointed. “I thought we…”
The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears as their eyes held over the projector. “It’s just not going to be much fun watching me try to keep this thing running.”
It was dark in the booth save for the light emanating from the machine which gave off just enough to see the tears welling in her eyes. “Sure, whatever you say Jug.”
She was gone before the last of the breath he was holding escaped.
(read below or check it out here)
July 7
The lights were hung from the trees in her backyard, encircling them and twinkling in the humid July night. It was Betty’s seventeenth birthday and yellow frosted cake sat too brightly between the various healthy snacks that seemed terribly out of place at a teenager’s party.
“You look really pretty,” he managed as his hands sat awkwardly on her waist. The pink fabric of her dress was slick yet stuck under the dampness of his fingers.
She smiled. “Thanks, Juggie. I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He felt the furrow of his brow, his fingers tightening against satin.
“Oh,” she flicked the hair off her shoulder, eyes cautiously glancing back to meet his. “It’s just that you’ve been really busy. I haven’t seen you much.”
Her voice was soft. Even through the music and raucous laughter of their peers, it was lyrical and light and maybe just a little bit sad. Jughead tightened his grip on her sides in a poor attempt to tamp down the ever growing desire to run his hands across the entirety of her body.
“Work,” he said, probably more terse than he meant, but it was a lie he was trying to sell. “Between the Twilight and taking shifts at Pop’s...it’s been a busy summer.”
Betty nodded. “No, I know that. It’s just…” Her head shook softly as her most tried and true generic Cooper smile faltered. “I was hoping to see more of you before we got bogged down by school.”
Jughead could swear he smiled, but the look reflected back at him conveyed he did not. He could feel the sweat forming under the betraying rim of his beanie, a lock of escaped hair sticking to his brow. Her arm rose from his shoulder, and while he missed the sensation, the one that replaced it made him shiver. Her soft, slender fingers found their way to the unruly curl, sliding under it and wrapping it around them before gently brushing it from his forehead and back under his beanie.
“Betts,” he swallowed thickly, her hand still lingering on the side of his head.
“Hey, Mr. Jones!”
Jughead felt the air leave his body as he turned toward the gate to see Mr. Andrews and his father talking.
“Are you here for Jug? I can’t believe you guys are leaving already!” Archie called out from behind them.
“Leaving? Where are you going, Jug?” Her hand fell from his face and landed awkwardly on his shoulder.
There was no way around it now. Not when she should have known since the beginning. Not when she was looking up at him more confused than he’d ever seen her. “Um, do you think we could go somewhere and talk?”
He was so fixated on the wrinkle between Betty’s eyebrows, the way her face scrunched up when she was deep in thought, that he didn’t see the movement to his left. Didn’t know his father had made his way through the crowd to clap him on the back and proclaim to the entirety of their classmates: “Truck’s all packed. Just a good night’s sleep is all that’s separating us Jones men from the Buckeye State.”
“Buckeye?” Betty echoed absently, her arms dropping from around his neck. “Jughead?”
He swallowed, opening his mouth to speak and promptly shut it when no words came out. The dawning realization stole over her face, confusion melting away to hurt. Shaking her head, she turned out of his arms, her hands in fists at her sides, before she ran from the yard altogether.
“Fuck!” Fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose while the other hand balled up at his side.
“I’ll let that one go, boy. Looks like you have bigger fish to fry,” FP squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, gaze softening as he walked back toward Fred.
“Bro, how did you not tell her?” Archie’s voice sounded distant in his ears even though he was standing right next to him.
“Because I’m a fucking idiot, Arch,” he slipped the beanie off his head and grabbed a fistful of hair.
“You know what you have to do, right?”
He looked up at his best friend, who looked far more sympathetic than Jughead deserved. “I know, I know. But where do I even start?”
Archie clapped him on the shoulder and nodded encouragingly. “You know exactly what you have to do, man. And now you have to tell her the other thing too. Good luck. She’s got a mean left hook.”
There was another reassuring squeeze of his shoulder before Archie ran back into the crowd. Jughead sighed, replaced the worn beanie on his head, and took off for the one place he was sure Betty would be.
Except she wasn’t.
Not at the river. Not at Pop’s. Not in Archie’s old, dilapidated tree house nor at Picken’s Park. He stalked through the streets berating himself, kicking at the pavement and scuffing the dangerously thin soles of his shoes.
Archie said she hadn’t made it back to the house yet, which meant his search wasn’t completely wasted, but the longer he walked with no sightings, the harder it was to accept she wanted to be found. Not that he’d stop looking. There were too many things left unsaid and too much history between them to let it all fall to the wayside, because he’d been an idiot.
He wished it was cooler. Sweat beaded on his brow, so much so he resorted to using his beanie as a rag, shoving the damp wool into his back pocket instead of back on his head. Between the stagnant midsummer night air and the way his anxiety seemed to simmer just under his skin, he felt fully aflame.
If only he had…
There were so many things he could have done, or said, so many missed opportunities and moments left to chance. He played every interaction he and Betty had since school let out, since he knew he was leaving and understands—knows implicitly—he is the only one at fault for his current predicament.
And yet he wants to lash out at everyone. At Archie for spilling his admittedly stupid secret, at his dad for insisting they leave right after Betty’s party, at Betty for looking so sad and hurt when he knew that she’d miss him for maybe a minute. Tops.
“That’s not true, and you know it,” her voice came from behind him, louder and sharper than usual. He slowly turned to find her sitting on a bench, the harsh light from the streetlamp cascading down on her.
“I didn’t think I said that out loud,” he started toward her, halting when she held up her hand. It dropped to her lap after a moment, joining the fingers of her other hand clutching at the fabric of her dress. “Betts…”
“Do you really believe that, Jug? Has our friendship meant that little to you, or are you just trying to make yourself feel better for being a dick?” He saw the tear roll down her cheek, the attempt to leave it unacknowledged, and then, the hasty removal of it from her face. “You know, honestly, at this point I don’t know if I care,” her sniffle carried across the space, somehow not drowned out by the restless cicadas or the pounding of his heart.
“No! No,of course not, Betty. I know you would miss me for at least five whole minutes,” he deadpanned. However, it seemed Betty was not in the mood for his misguided attempt to deflect. The roll of her eyes and the sharp set of her jaw had him reaching for his sweat-soaked beanie, retrieving it from his back pocket and pulling at it aggressively as he tried to cover his hair. “Can I try this again?”
He was answered by a curt nod as Betty looked away from him once again.
“My dad is about a hairsbreadth away from both falling off the wagon and back into the inglorious cesspool of gang life. As a last ditch attempt in not destroying everything, he and my mother came to some sort of arrangement if we moved to Toledo.”
Betty’s mouth opened slightly before snapping back shut, the juncture of her jaw throbbing against the soft curve of her cheek. Her eyes closed for a moment before she spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not a conversation that I wanted to have with anyone, Betty. Least of all you,” his hand scratched at the back of his neck, eyes not daring to look up from the pavement.
“But you obviously told Archie, right? So why not me? Are we not…” she stopped and pressed the tips of her fingers against her lips. “I guess we’re just not as close as I thought.”
The hand dropped from Jughead’s neck as he stepped toward her. “You know that’s not true either.”
“So what was it then, Jughead! Tell me why you could confide in Archie but not me? Tell me why you pulled away when you already knew you’d be leaving?”
“Because I refused to have you look at me like that! Like some sad, lost cause with one foot in the grave and the other following exactly in dear ol’ dad’s footsteps.”
“What? Jughead,” she stood, quickly wrapping her arms around her torso, seemingly to stop herself from reaching for him, tears freely flowing down her cheeks. “You know, I don’t know what hurts worse. The knowledge that my best friend is moving. Tomorrow. Or that he thinks I think so little of him and our friendship I would (A) judge him for things completely out of his control, (B) not understand what it was like to deal with fucked up parents, or (C) think I wouldn’t be there for him.”
His arms stretched before him of their own volition, long fingers wrapping around her upper arms. “Betty,” he breathed, willing her eyes to meet his. “I know you wouldn’t have done any of those things. It wasn’t because of you that I didn’t tell you. I was embarrassed and ashamed and million other things that I have no explanation for at the moment.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t step out of his grasp. “I just don’t understand, Jug. What changed?”
“Nothing! And everything, I guess. It was supposed to be different. It was all supposed to be different this year. We were gonna get control of the Blue and Gold and fill out college applications at Pop’s over milkshakes and burgers and…”
Betty looked up at him, tears clinging to her lashes, vestiges of her party makeup smeared around her eyes. “And what, Jug?”
“And,” he swallowed, unable to help the thumb that had crept up to wipe the mascara away. “And I was finally going to work up the nerve to tell you how I feel.”
He could feel the laser focus of her eyes, the tension in her jaw, the thudding of her heart under his fingertips. “What?” Her voice came just above a whisper.
“To ask you to be my date to homecoming and winter formal and prom; to ask you to be mine.” Jughead’s hand slid from her arm to her waist, pulling her closer to him in the process.
“That’s not fair,” she trembled beneath his fingers, chin wobbling and shiny eyed.
“Betts,” his thumb dipped to her chin, angling her face up to his, “this wasn’t how I wanted to tell you.”
“Which part? The part where you have feelings for me or the part where you’re leaving tomorrow? Because right now, both of those things hurt the same.”
“I know. I know, and there’s nothing I can do to change how it came out but,” he could feel the air sucking into her lungs they were that close. “I can only say I’m sorry for one of those things, Betty, because as awkward or poorly timed as this is, it’s led to this. You and me. In this moment.”
Her eyes were wide “You have no idea, do you? How long I waited for this, how badly I wanted this.”
“I’m still right here, Betty.”
“Yeah, but for what? A few more hours?” Her hands grasped at the fabric of his shirt. Stretched out on tip-toe, her lips landed gently on his cheek.  “All I wanted tonight was to finally be brave enough to kiss you. I never imagined our first kiss could be a goodbye, and honestly, I just don’t think I can do that to myself.”
She slid out of his arms, his fingers flexing on her skin. Words to keep her there flew through his brain—screamed through his veins—and yet he simply let her fall away. His fingers traced where her lips burned his cheek and wondered if he would have survived the phantom feeling if she’d kissed his lips. The sight before him nearly choked him. His mind latched on to the creases in her dress, the patterns of mascara on her tear-stained cheeks, her jasmine perfume that hovered around them and stuck to him long after he finally moved from the spot.
July 8
Jughead woke before the dawn. Never much of a sleeper, he found it exceedingly difficult when the image of her turning away from him played over and over in his mind. The ancient hot water tank couldn’t produce a stream scalding enough to burn it from his mind either. He stewed in his own thoughts, typing out and subsequently deleting about a hundred different messages to his blonde haired best friend, but couldn’t find it in him to send a single one.
No platitudes seemed enough, and what good would it serve? Maybe it would be easier to be in Toledo if she hated him or if he thought she did. He threw his head back on the couch (the one they wouldn’t need in Toledo, where he’d have a real bed, in a room all his own) and tried to remember what the world was like before Betty Cooper looked at him like he was a leper.
His downward spiral didn’t get to progress too far before the sound of an approaching car snapped him back to reality. He peeked out the bare window, the sight before him bringing a smile to his face.
“So this is really it,” Archie sniffed, standing beside him, a cup of half drank Pop’s coffee between his palms.
Jughead nodded, taking a slow sip of his own coffee, trying not to choke on the words and feelings that seemed to lodge in his throat. “Thanks for the pick me up and the donuts. Those might make it to the state line.”
Laughing, Archie knocked his shoulder into Jughead’s. “I’m gonna miss you, man.”
“I’m gonna miss you too, Arch.” The cup stilled at his lips again. “Have you, um, talked to Betty at all?”
“Oh, I almost forgot!” He ran over to his dad’s truck and reached through the open window, producing a large tupperware from inside. “She didn’t say much; she didn’t have to. She looks about as good as you do.”
Jughead chuckled morosely as he took the proffered container. Perched on top, folded as neatly as could be and inscribed with her exacting script was a note addressed to him. He sucked in a breath, shakily peeling it off and tucking it into his pocket before prying open a corner and seeing a rather large chunk of her birthday cake inside.
“She knows me too well,” he set it down on the hood of his dad’s truck, shaking his head. “I really fucked up this time.”
Archie grinned.
“What? That makes you happy?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, it does not make me happy. None of this is exactly happy, Jug. But the fact that for once in our lives the ire of Betty Cooper is directed, in its entirety, at you is not something that is lost on me. Now, let me bask in this short-lived glory, because I’m going to be the shoulder she cries on when all of this sinks in.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he swallowed down the last sip of bitter coffee with the bile that started to rise. “Just tell her…”
“She knows.”
He nods, somber, letting the words and feeling sink in. Coffee finished and goodbyes thoroughly dispensed, the Andrews men departed Sunnyside and left the Joneses to start their new lives.
“You ready for this, son?” His father asked as they slid into the truck. Even though the sun was barely up, FP seemed energized; happy. He smiled despite himself.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“A new chapter for us, boy. Hell, a new story all together! I know it doesn’t seem like it right now but, it’ll get better, I promise.”
His father’s hand rested on his shoulder for a moment before making its way back to the wheel. Jughead sighed, head hitting the window with a dull thud. “Yeah, well, it can’t get any worse.”
As the truck pulled away from the trailer park, and he watched as Riverdale shrank behind them in the mirror, he wondered if the note in his pocket would ever stop burning or if the ache in his chest would ever cease.
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ijustfeelokay · 3 years ago
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Entry September 6, 2021
I know I can be quite sporadic and unpredictable with how often I write in my Journal. I’ve never had a problem with it though, since I treat my journal and these entries as a place to talk to myself and to unpack my feelings or thoughts. Tonight though I’m grateful to know as I try to think off the top of my head, that there is really no major painstaking issue bringing me down. While my parents have always been an issue I’ve already learned how to filter it out and not let it negatively impact myself.
Although I feel quite content with my current self and have accepted what’s happened this year, not getting into the Molecular Genetics Masters Program and finding out U24 Dragon Boat was canceled has tremendously changed the trajectory and expectations of my plans this upcoming year and next. Summer is finally over, and while in the past summers I’d usually be usually completely busy studying, academics, research, and work, I spent the majority of it OCing, working out, and on dates with HK. Usually around this time of year I’d be very excited and looking forward to returning to school. This is the first September in who knows how many years (since kindergarten) that there is no actual school to look forward to. And yet, I don’t’ have the same excitement filling me either. Suddenly graduating certainly has made me feel a lot more alone in my journey. Not that I am alone, but rather that my path is no longer cookie cutter. While the dream for most is to get into medicine immediately after undergrad, doing a master’s and then applying to medicine is hardly considered the unbeaten path either.
I came home earlier this weekend from home sitting my sister’s new apartment room with her cat A. It was the labour day weekend. For the past week I was really looking forward to the Beer Olympics. I had it written in my Agenda notebook already for the past couple of weeks as well. While I never really understood or was able to imagine what HK’s friend group looked like from “a ragtag group of misfits” I sort of get it now. They’re all lovely people. It was not a clique type of group and they’re all very nice. E stood out in particular as someone I should be a bit weary of, while on the other hand I strongly enjoyed L and T’s atmosphere. I appreciated I’s Toronto-man slang. S reminded me of Billie Eilish, and A reminded me of a friend from elementary school back in woodbridge. C was very talkative but I quite enjoyed listening to her story about her older sister having to marry the land to fulfill a prophecy or make sure it reflects reality. I was very glad I could also see HK’s vibe around her friends. It was interesting to finally understand or better picture some of the stories she’s mentioned previously about her friends. My ankles grew very tired by the end of the night and I also got really sleepy as I sobered up from the alcohol. I crashed in a chair with HK on my lap and she called Christine to drive us home. The month of August I must say passed by very quickly. August flew by much faster than July, which flew by faster than June. The weekly beach days with HK already seem a little distant. Maybe we can look out for hot weather on the weekly weather forecast for another beach day. Our scarborough bluffs day was so fun. Wait, that was the same day as terra lumina and Chako lol. And the spam musibi. Of course that was a fun day. July 30. I remember the drive to the Toronto Zoo at night was quite spooky as well. Oh, right and The And.
Considering most of my previous Journal entries throughout undergrad have mostly been about V or family troubles it’s really refreshing that I finally get to write something that Future TD Bank Canada can look at and read and reminisce on the happy memories. Honestly, it’s like God said this man has suffered enough let’s rig the Tinder algorithms for a change. HK really is that girl that I can just talk to. Someone I can hold, someone I can do and share things I’ve always wanted to but never could. She’s quite fit and athletic, really pretty, and so understanding and seemingly patient with me. I’ve been really happy lately ever since I started dating HK. And I hope it stays that way. I look forward to meeting her other friends too, and I’m so excited to eventually introduce her to my closest friends as well. Those days will come.
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birdlord · 4 years ago
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Everything I Watched in 2020
We’ll start with movies. The number in parentheses is the year of release, asterisks denote a re-watch, and titles in bold are my favourite watches of the year. Here’s 2019’s list. 
01 Little Women (19)
02 The Post (17) 
03 Molly’s Game (17)
04 * Doctor No (62)
05 Groundhog Day (93)
06 *Star Trek IV - The Voyage Home (86)
07 Knives Out (19) My last theatre experience (sob)
08 Professor Marston and his Wonder Women (17)
09 Les Miserables (98)
10 Midsommar (19) I’m not sure how *good* it is, but it does stick in the ol’ brain
11 *Manhattan Murder Mystery (93)
12 Marriage Story (19)
13 Kramer vs Kramer (79)
14 Jojo Rabbit (19)
15 J’ai perdu mon corps (19) a cute animated film about a hand detached from its body!
16 1917 (19)
17 Married to the Mob (88)
18 Klaus (19)
19 Portrait of a Lady on Fire (19) If Little Women made me want to wear a scarf criss-crossed around my torso, this one made me want to wear a cloak
20 The Last Black Man in San Francisco (19)
21 *Lawrence of Arabia (62)
22 Gone With the Wind (39)
23 Kiss Me Deadly (55)
24 Dredd (12)
25 Heartburn (86) heard a bunch about this one in the Blank Check series on Nora Ephron, sadly after I’d watched it
26 The Long Shot (19)
27 Out of Africa (85)
28 King Kong (46)
29 *Johnny Mnemonic (95)
30 Knocked Up (07)
31 Collateral (04)
32 Bird on a Wire (90)
33 The Black Dahlia (05)
34 Long Time Running (17)
35 *Magic Mike (12)
36 Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead (07)
37 Cold War (18)
38 *Kramer Vs Kramer (79) yes I watched this a few months before! This was a pandemic friend group co-watch.
39 *Burn After Reading (08)
40 Last Holiday (50)
41 Fly Away Home (96)
42 *Moneyball (11) I’m sure I watch this every two years, at most??
43 Last Holiday (06) the Queen Latifah version of the 1950 movie above, lacking, of course, the brutal “poor people don’t deserve anything good” ending
44 *Safe (95)
45 Gimme Shelter (70)
46 The Daytrippers (96)
47 Experiment in Terror (62)
48 Tucker: The Man and His Dream (88)
49 My Brilliant Career (79) one of the salvations of 2020 was watching movies “with” friends. Our usual method was to video chat before the movie, sync our streaming services, and text-chat while the movie was on. 
50 Divorce Italian Style (61)
51 *Gosford Park (01) another classic comfort watch, fuck I love a G. Park
52 Hopscotch (80)
53 Brief Encounter (45)
54 Hud (63)
55 Ocean’s 8 (18)
56 *Beverly Hills Cop (84)
57 Blow the Man Down (19)
58 Constantine (05)
59 The Report (19) maddening!! How are people so consistently terrible to one another!
60 Everyday People (04)
61 Anatomy of a Murder (58)
62 Spiderman: Homecoming (17)
63 *To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (95) Of the 90s drag road movies, Priscilla is more visually striking, but this has its moments.
64 Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (92)
65 *The Truman Show (98)
66 Mona Lisa (86)
67 The Blob (58)
68 The Guard (11)
69 *Waiting for Guffman (96) RIP Fred Willard
70 Rocketman (19)
71 Outside In (18)
72 The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (08) how strange to see a movie that you have known the premise for, but no details of, for over a decade
73 *Star Trek: The Undiscovered Country (91)
74 The Reader (08)
75 Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (19) This was fine until it VERY MUCH WAS NOT FINE
76 The End of the Affair (99) you try to watch a fun little romp about infidelity during the Blitz, and Graham Greene can’t help but shoehorn in a friggin crisis of religious faith
77 Must Love Dogs (05) barely any dog content, where are the dogs at
78 The Rainmaker (97)
79 *Batman & Robin (97)
80 National Lampoon’s Vacation (83) Never seen any of the non-xmas Vacations, didn’t realize the children are totally different, not just actors but ages! Also, this one is blatantly racist!
81 *Mystic Pizza (88)
82 Funny Girl (68)
83 The Sons of Katie Elder (65)
84 *Knives Out (19) another re-watch within the same year!! How does this keep happening??
85 *Scott Pilgrim Vs The World (10) a real I-just-moved-away-from-Toronto nostalgia watch
86 Canadian Bacon (92) vividly recall this VHS at the video store, but I never saw it til 2020
87 *Blood Simple (85)
88 Brittany Runs a Marathon (19)
89 The Accidental Tourist (88)
90 August Osage County (13) MELO-DRAMA!!
91 Appaloosa (08)
92 The Firm (93) Feeling good about how many iconic 80s/90s video store stalwarts I watched in 2020
93 *Almost Famous (00)
94 Whisper of the Heart (95)
95 Da 5 Bloods (20)
96 Rain Man (88)
97 True Stories (86)
98 *Risky Business (83) It’s not about what you think it’s about! It never was!
99 *The Big Chill (83)
100 The Way We Were (73)
101 Safety Last (23) It’s getting so that I might have to add the first two digits to my dates...not that I watch THAT many movies from the 1920s...
102 Phantasm (79)
103 The Burrowers (08)
104 New Jack City (91)
105 The Vanishing (88)
106 Sisters (72)
107 Puberty Blues (81) Little Aussie cinema theme, here
108 Elevator to the Gallows (58)
109 Les Diaboliques (55)
110 House (77) haha WHAT no really W H A T
111 Death Line (72)
112 Cranes are Flying (57)
113 Holes (03)
114 *Lady Vengeance (05)
115 Long Weekend (78)
116 Body Double (84)
117 The Crazies (73) I love that Romero shows the utter confusion that would no doubt reign in the case of any kind of disaster. Things fall apart.
118 Waterlilies (07)
119 *You’re Next (11)
120 Event Horizon (97)
121 Venom (18) I liked it, guys, way more than most superhero fare. Has a real sense of place and the place ISN’T New York!
122 Under the Silver Lake (18) RIP Night Call
123 *Blade Runner (82)
124 *The Birds (62) interesting to see now that I’ve read the story it came from
125 *28 Days Later (02) hits REAL FUCKIN’ DIFFERENT in a pandemic
126 Life is Sweet (90)
127 *So I Married an Axe Murderer (93) find me a more 90s movie, I dare you (it’s not possible)
128 Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (67)
129 The Pelican Brief (93) 90s thrillers continue!
130 Dick Johnston is Dead (20)
131 The Bridges of Madison County (95)
132 Earth Girls are Easy (88) Geena Davis and Jeff Goldblum are so hot in this movie, no wonder they got married 
133 Better Watch Out (16)
134 Drowning Mona (00) trying for something like the Coen bros and not getting there
135 Au Revoir Les Enfants (87)
136 *Chasing Amy (97) Affleck is the least alluring movie lead...ever? I also think I gave Joey Lauren Adams’ character short shrift in my memory of the movie. It’s not good, but she’s more complicated than I recalled. 
137 Blackkklansman (18)
138 Being Frank (19)
139 Kiki’s Delivery Service (89)
140 Uncle Frank (20) why so many FRANKS
141 *National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (89) watching with pals (virtually) made it so much more fun than the usual yearly watch!
142 Half Baked (98) another, more secret Toronto nostalgia pic - RC Harris water filtration plant as a prison!
143 We’re the Millers (13)
144 All is Bright (13)
145 Defending Your Life (91)
146 Christmas Chronicles (18) I maintain that most new xmas movies are terrible, particularly now that Netflix churns them out like eggnog every year. 
147 Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse (18)
148 Reindeer Games (00) what did I say about Affleck??!? WHAT DID I SAY
149 Palm Springs (20)
150 Happiest Season (20)
151 *Metropolitan (90) it’s definitely a Christmas movie
152 Black Christmas (74)
THEATRE:HOME - 2:150 (thanks pandemic)
I usually separate out docs and fiction, but I watched almost no documentaries this year (with the exception of Dick Johnston). Reality is real enough. 
TV Series
01 - BoJack Horseman (final season) - Pretty damned poignant finish to the show, replete with actual consequences for our reformed bad boy protagonist (which is more than you can say for most antiheroes of Peak TV).
02 - *Hello Ladies - I enjoy the pure awkwardness of seeing Stephen Merchant try to perform being a Regular Person, but ultimately this show tips him too far towards a nasty, Ricky Gervais-lite sort of persona. Perhaps he was always best as a cameo appearance, or lip synching with wild eyes while Chrissy Teigen giggles?
03 - Olive Kittredge - a rough watch by times. I read the book as well, later in the year. Frances Mcdormand was the best, possibly the only, casting option for the flinty lead. One episode tips into thriller territory, which is a shock. 
04 - *The Wire S3, S4, S5 - lockdown culture! It was interesting to rewatch this, then a few months later go through an enormous, culture-level reappraisal of cop-centred narratives. 
05 - Forever - a Maya Rudolph/Fred Armisen joint that coasts on the charm of its leads. The premise is OK, but I wasn’t left wanting any more at the end. 
06 - *Catastrophe - a rewatch when my partner decided he wanted to see it, too!
07 - Red Oak - resolutely “OK” steaming dramedy, relied heavily on some pretty obvious cues to get across its 1980s setting. 
08 - Little Fires Everywhere - gulped this one down while in 14-day isolation, delicious! Every 90s suburban mom had that SUV, but not all of them had the requisite **secrets**
09 - The Great - fun historical comedy/drama! Costumes: lush. Actors: amusing. Race-blind casting: refreshing!
10 - The Crown S4 - this is the season everyone lost their everloving shit for, since it’s finally recent enough history that a fair chunk of the viewing audience is liable to recall it happening. 
11 - Ted Lasso - we resisted this one for a while (thought I did enjoy the ad campaign for NBC sports (!!) that it was based on). My view is that its best point was the comfort that the men on the show have (or develop, throughout the season) with the acknowledgement and sharing of their own feelings. Masculinity redux. 
12 - Moonbase 8 - Goodnatured in a way that makes you certain they will be crushed. 
13 - The Good Lord Bird - Ethan Hawke is really aging into the character actor we always hoped he would be! 
14 - Hollywood - frothy wish-fulfillment alternate history. I think the show would have been improved immeasurably by skipping the final episode.
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phebia · 4 years ago
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Making Family, Prologue
So, I can’t really write for shit but I love to do it. Normally, I just write for myself and don’t publish any of my fics but I figured posting a few couldn’t hurt. I’m almost done watching On My Block (I know I’m late to the party ya’ll) and I’ve had this fic idea bouncing around my head for a while now. If you read it, I hope you enjoy it hehe.
People like to pretend that family is all about blood. The DNA in your core is what decides who your family is, and that's just how it is. Few people know the truth behind that rule. Know that it's a blatant lie. Blood doesn't mean shit. The people I shared my blood line with were far from what family should be. My parents were never physically abusive. A hand never struck me and I never had a bruise courtesy of them. That didn't mean that they were good, though. Words can hit just as hard as fists. Every syllable knocked me to the ground and it got harder to get to my feet each time. Neglect wasn't a word I liked to use, but it was exactly what the lawyer explained it as in court. My parents were mean when they were present but most of the time they were gone. Their presence in my life wasn't strong or positive. I wasn't quite sure how it started. If I had to guess, I'd say that Ruth and Arthur Connelly- the elderly couple next door, finally decided to speak up. They didn't know anything for certain. Not that they had to. It wasn't hard to notice the empty driveway and hear the screaming echoes. It had been a Thursday when she showed up. Caroline Jennings was a fresh-out-of-college social worker. I would eventually learn that I was just her third case. She had blown into my life like a storm, her blonde hair looking more like sunshine. The first thing I noticed about her were her straight teeth, shining as she smiled sweetly at me. I didn't know that taking a few minutes to talk to her would change my life. Dragging an almost 18 year old from a group home to court and back again was harder than Caroline had thought it would be. Her past two cases had been a 5 year old and 2 year old respectively. They hadn't known what was going on. I did. I knew exactly what was happening at every point in time. Caroline had shown up in late April and the judges gavel slammed down for the last time in the end of August. I spent my 18th birthday in a group home full of strangers. Katrina was a kind hearted Latina woman with stern eyes who ran a relatively recent group home all on her own. She didn't ask for help from anyone and she surely didn't need it. I had been there for months but that didn't mean living in a home that wasn't really yours was easy. I wasn't close to the other girls that called the old farm house home. Teenagers were filled with mean comments that would leave a mark if they chose to say them out loud, and they always chose to say them out loud. Apparently mean things were okay as long as it wasn't your parents saying them. I kept out of their way. Minded my own business. Tried to make my plush form as small as possible no matter how fruitless my efforts were, all in an attempt to be ignored. It was funny that after so many years of being alone, I became comfortable in the isolation. In the months it took for the lawyers and social workers in charge of my case to find someone willing to take me in I had legally become an adult, but Caroline had kept my case open as a favour to me. I may have been legal, but it would've been nearly impossible for me to survive on the streets of Waterdown alone. I didn't know much about my extended family and it was impossible to blame anyone for not wanting to take in an 18 year old stranger, but that didn't make the ache of being unwanted any less painful. It was on a late May day that I first heard the name Geny Martinez. Caroline had sat me down and did her best to explain how exactly we were related but all I caught was that it was through my mom's side and she could be referred to as a distant aunt of mine. That also seemed to be the only Caroline understood herself. The tremor of surprise that first hit me when I learned I had family in California looking to take me in lingered for days on end. It still clung to my nerves during the first week of summer when I first met Geny and her husband Ruben. Caroline had told me they were being flown out but it didn't make looking into her brown eyes any easier. Behind her beautiful face there was stress and concern, Ruben on the other hand seemed much more relaxed. Leading them through town was awkward, but sitting down in the local Starbucks and actually having a conversation was much worse. Geny had confessed she didn't know who my mother was or how we were related (a trend that seemed popular) but she was still willing to take me in. I couldn't help but laugh when she had warned me about Freeridge and told me she wouldn't blame if I refused their offer. The thought of living with strangers pulled my stomach into knots of anxiety but it was a much better option than fending for myself on the streets of Waterdown, which I undoubtedly knew I'd have to do soon if the Martinez family didn't work. The next day the couple was gone, but they had taken my phone number with them. I didn't hear from Ruben very often, Geny on the other hand texted me multiple times a day and slowly filled me in on her family and Freeridge. The first time I visited Freeridge was in the early days of June and I visited once more over the summer. My last visit had ended in the early weeks of July and I left feeling decently comfortable with my new... I wasn't sure what to call them, but family seemed to be the easiest word to use. I was set to return in a month, this time for good.
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My first introduction to California had been a blast of hot air to the face. A part of me had been hoping that Los Angeles would've cooled down in the time that I was away, but Ruby had drilled the weather patterns of Freeridge into my head and I should've listened to him. He even suggested I get my hands on an entirely new wardrobe if possible. According to the young Latino all of Canada was frigid year round and no clothing suitable for my hometown would be fitting for my new one. I had laughed at the harebrained boy but my tie dye hoodie and black leggings earned me some looks from strangers in the airport and I quickly decided I probably should've listened to him. My slight familiarity of LAX made grabbing my luggage a less anxious process than it was the first time I had done it, despite the fact that I now had a few more bags with me. My life may not have been grand, but I needed more than a single suitcase to move it to a new country. With a small grunt I heaved my final suitcase off of the baggage claim belt, and after a brief scan of my belongings I turned, starting to look around for Geny or Ruben. However, I quickly froze in place when my eyes landed on a small familiar form marching towards me. My sunglasses gave Ruby a green tint but he and his scowl were unmistakable. "Hey..." My hopeful greeting faded off as my distant cousin stopped before me and gave me a judgemental once over, then turned his attention to my luggage without a word. "I told you not to wear your cold weather clothes. No one listens to me!" All I could do was stare as he shook his head to himself and struggled to get a good grip on a couple of my bags. "I knew that you'd mess up. You're lucky I brought these for you." With a large flounce of his arms he had dropped the bags and turned to hold a pair of simple, two strap, white sandals in my face. I quickly snatched the shoes from him with an unimpressed grimace and uncomfortable slouch in my shoulders due to the attention he had gained us. Ruby ignored my displeasure and went back to my belongings with a dramatic roll of his eyes, now muttering to himself in Spanish. "Easy on the Spanish, bro. She's a gringo, remember?" A new voice took my attention off of Ruby and it only took me a second to recognise Mario, who had wandered up to us at some point during his brother's rambling. A relieved smile pulled at my lips at the sight of him. Mario was my age and his laid back demeanour had made him much more approachable than his younger brother, or anyone else in Freeridge really. His mom had coerced him into showing me around Freeridge during my first visit and our time spent together had turned us into surprisingly close companions. He was undeniably my first, and best, friend in town, and he'd be damned if anyone tried to take the title from him. And although his words were true, I couldn't help but scowl at the term while I moved to embrace him. "Teach me Spanish, then." It was a discussion we had often, ever since I had expressed a desire to learn the language after quickly feeling out of place in the Martinez household. Mario had always laughed at that and claimed that I would be a terrible student, whomst he would never waste his precious time on. "I have no time." He shook his head and smiled at me as we both pulled away from the hug. This time though, his words were true. He was headed off to Berkeley tomorrow and although it was a huge accomplishment, a part of me couldn't help but wish he wouldn't go. With Mario gone I'd likely be stuck hanging out with Ruby and his friends. There was nothing wrong with the soon to be freshman's, other than the fact that I was a good four years older than them. But that was something I'd have to get over. Ruby was mature for his age and I was in no position to be selfish. Mario already put off his departure by a full day just so he could take a few hours to help me unpack and, in his words give me, "A real welcoming home." I rolled my eyes at his ever persistent refusal, shaking my head and turning away so that he wouldn't be able to see the smile on my face. "I'll teach you Spanish, Selina." Ruby had joined my side, looking up at me with my black and white backpack slung over his shoulders, seemingly over his earlier fashion fury. "You already have the name for it. Selina." The thick Spanish accent he accentuated my name with and tilt of his head brought a loud burst of laughter out of me. "Ah, so you're over my wardrobe." I placed a hand on his head and gestured at my hoodie, managing to grind my knuckles against his head and mess his hair up before he escaped my reach. "You know what? You can find a new teacher." He sassed, spinning around and marching way without hesitation, leaving me to grab a suitcase and catch up with him, both of us leaving Mario behind to take care of the rest of the bags. In a few long strides I caught up to his short form, wrapping my arm around his neck from behind and pressing my cheek firmly against his temple. "I missed you, Ruby." I smiled softly, tilting my head to press a swift kiss to his forehead, remaining quiet about the goofy smile I spotted forming on his face. Together we walked in silence, the constant noise of the airport drowning out the way my black vans scuffed against the linoleum floors. "Hey, do you think we should help your brother?" My sudden remembrance of Mario caused me to stop and glance back. My brown eyes scanned the crowds around us, the younger boy also turning to look for his brother. Eventually Mario walked into our sights, scowling harshly and dragging more bags behind him than both Ruby and I both had combined. "Nah." Ruby decided, shaking his head and beginning to walk once more, dragging my plush form along with him. "I still can't believe your mom let you two come pick me up, alone." I had been talking about my surprise airport escorts for the majority of the ride back to Freeridge, and I was sure both boys were overly irritated with me. But, knowing Geny meant knowing how protective she was of her children, even if one of them was an adult about to move away. Things just weren't making sense. Ruby had interrupted my constant musing with stories about what had went down while I was gone, but the distraction didn't last nearly as long as he had hoped. After his brother's failed attempt at silencing me, Mario resorted to steadily cranking the radio up until it drowned out my voice. But all that did was give us all a slight headache and I was still talking as we pulled up to the house. "What? Why? I'm responsible." My eyebrows raised at Mario's offended voice crack, choosing to share a silent look with Ruby instead of doing my teasing aloud. Despite my effort, the older Latino caught the exchange and scoffed loudly, practically shoving me out of the car. "Get out of my sight." I lingered, watching him and Ruby move to the trunk, hesitant to leave the brothers to lug all my things inside themselves. "We got this." Mario caught me looking and waved his hands at me, shooing me away from them once more. "Let the muscle handle it, Selina." Ruby nodded at me and flexed his arms, and that was all the encouragement I needed to leave them be. With a grin and shake of my head I shuffled up the walkway, and debated knocking on the door for a moment but Geny had scolded me whenever I did that so I ending up opting to walk in unannounced. "Surprise!" Confetti was popped in my face and a loud gasp burst out of me at the sudden shock. My heart raced in my chest as my shoulders heaved with uneven breath, my eyes wide and looking over the group of people smiling widely at me. I recognised most of them within a second prompting a laugh of relief to spill past my lips, my laughter causing everyone else to cheer once more. "Welcome home, mija." Geny was the first person to move, rushing towards me with her arms open wide and a glowing smile on her face. "Hi, Aunt Geny." I groaned into the hug but forced a grin onto my face, nearly sighing in relief when she released me from her iron grip. She continued to coo over me, her hands holding my face and squishing my cheeks together until Ruben arrived to greet and save me. I watched the couple walk away with soft eyes until the sound of someone tsking reached my ears. Turning my head to the right revealed Ruby's friend Jamal shaking his head at me, his lanky arms crossed over his chest. "A hoodie? Girl, in this weather? You must be crazy." I sighed and looked to the popcorn ceiling, pushing the sleeves of my sweater to my elbows. Maybe I was starting to sweat a bit, but I'd never admit it to any of the California natives who were just waiting for my admission of defeat with baited breath. "Save it. I already got the lecture from, Ruby." I held my hand out to silence him before he could get another word out, a tiny grin warming my features. "I bet you did." He shook his head but a moment later he was smiling back at me. "Welcome to Freeridge, Selina. Permanently this time!" I thanked him sweetly and promised to come back later with my review of his dad's barbecue. I weaved my way through the house, greeting neighbours with varying levels of enthusiasm depending on my familiarity with them. At some point the twins had stolen me away to play with them, but I was sent right back into the fray when Geny walked in on me being forced to help build a block castle. Not long after leaving the youngest Martinez's behind I collapsed onto the couch next to the oldest one. My head lazily rested against the back of the couch, tilting so that I could look at the woman beside me. Her brown eyes were already fixed on me and she reached out to squeeze my cheek, much like her daughter had. The two of us looked at each other in silence for a minute, Abuelita eventually breaking it. "You want a hit? My stuff's in the basement." I laughed at her offer, nodding my head and promising her that we were on for tonight. The silence between us was a welcome break from the surprise party and there was no need to interrupt it. We were both more than content to watch the people milling about, her hand gently resting over my own which was sat in my lap. I had been focused on watching Ruby and Jamal do their best to ditch one of the neighbourhood girls around their age, who was very obviously invading their personal bubble, when I was distracted by the woman to my right once again. "I think you're going to like it here, mija." Abuelita's voice was quiet and soft but it rang out in my head clearly, a reminder that there was no more going back to my old life. "I hope so."
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