#he doesn't speak to me for six months then texts me out of the blue

[sailorsun546]

[userautumn]

He knows he shouldn't, but Buck texts Tommy anyway. Once Jee is covered in chocolate and cookie crumbs, once she's drifting off to sleep against his arm with Moana playing softly in the background, he pulls up their text thread with his unoccupied hand and clicks on the message bar. He ignores the grey and blue messages that sit above, messages—warm, kind, and loving—that speak to a happier time and instead chooses to type out a quick message.

Jee misses you.

He sends off the text and then pockets his phone. Slips out of Jee's sticky grasp so he can start cleaning the kitchen before it's time to put her to bed. He's so deep in thought that he almost misses the way his phone vibrates in his pocket.

What did she say?

"Uncle Tommy come play?"

Tommy doesn't respond for a while, long enough that Buck gets to imagine his face, pinched and in pain, with tears in his eyes. Or maybe Tommy's just fine. Maybe Buck is the one pinched and in pain, emotional and so damn sick of crying all the time.

I'm sorry.

Sorry to her or sorry to me?

It's not fair. Buck knows it's not as soon as he sends it, but Tommy replies seconds later anyway.

Sorry to both of you.

Buck stares at the text until his screen goes blank, trying to decide which of the emotions he's currently drowning in that he wants to feel. He settles on anger.

If you were that sorry, you wouldn't have dumped me three days after our six month anniversary.

Never mind.

This was dumb.

I shouldn't have bothered.

Sorry to have bothered you.

Bye.

Goodbye, Evan.

Buck's heart lurches into his throat at the sight of his name on screen, his eyes widening and his breath quickening. An embarrassing rush of hope stirs deep in his chest before he can clamp down on it and it feels like breathing for the first time in weeks. Another text comes through immediately after.

Sorry. It's a habit. I'm so sorry. Goodnight, Buck. Please tell Jee-Yun that I hope to see her soon.

Buck stares for a long moment, then lets out a laugh, thin and mirthless, as humiliation—so much fucking humiliation—crawls up his gut, filling his mouth with bile and shame. Right. He should have known. Did know, probably, somewhere deep down in his gut. But Evan Buckley has always been a dreamer, a believer in the impossible. Even and especially when it costs him.

I'm not going to lie to her.

Tommy doesn't answer, and this time, Buck knows he won't. He slides his phone back into his pocket and stares down at the countertop. His hands are braced on the flat, smooth surface, the fingers of one hand slick with soapy water. He doesn't cry, but it's a damn near close thing. Hell, with the pain currently slicing and carving its way through his chest, he could probably scream with it, but he won't. He won't scare Jee and he won't wake the neighbors, he'll just... deal with it. Like he has been dealing with it, like he always deals with it.

Buck takes a deep breath. Then he grabs the dishcloth he'd thrown aside and walks back over to the sink. Dips the rag in hot, soapy water and wrings it out before returning to wipe down the counters once more. Whatever. All of this is just... whatever. Tommy breaks his heart—he lets Tommy break his heart—for the second time in a row and it's just fucking whatever. Right now, the kitchen needs to be cleaned and Jee-Yun needs to be woken up so she can brush her teeth before he tucks her in, and life does what it does best: it goes on.

He can cry about Tommy Kinard later. It's not like he gets much sleep these nights anyway.

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Two

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.9k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+, Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, mentions of poor mental health, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings

They finally meet

One year later...

The message comes out of the blue. The first time I've heard from John Price in a whole month, and it's a fucking text message.

I'm watching TV, curled up in a ball on the sofa next to my best friend and flatmate Winslow "Winnie" Sloane, when my phone pings. I think about ignoring it until I catch a glimpse of his name. It's an unspoken rule between the two of us - we never knowingly ignore one another. Obviously, he can't reply to my messages when he's on ops, but that's different - that's not wilful.

I pick it up without hesitation and take a look.

JOHN PRICE: Tali, I need a favour. It's urgent.

My heart drops.

TALIA KELLER: What's happened? JOHN PRICE: Call me. I'll explain.

So, I do. I tap Winnie on the shoulder and rise up to my feet, shuffling off to my bedroom so I don't disturb her episode of Slow Horses. When I'm safely shut behind my bedroom door, I tap on the call button, dreading what's awaiting me on the other end of the line.

"John?" my voice is full of nerves as the call connects, echoing slightly around the room.

"God am I glad to hear your voice, Tali." He sounds haggard, his own voice tired and hollow. It's not hard to tell that he's fresh off an op. I can already imagine how drained he looks; can picture the dark circles shading his eyes and his scruffy too-long beard.

Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly brave, I try to talk him into leaving the service. I think about Alex and his death, and I hate that John still knowingly puts himself in harm's way day and night. He's the only serving soldier I know now - I never met any of the other members of their unit - and I desperately wish that he'll retire soon.

"How are you?" he follows up, voice puncturing through my thoughts.

"I'm okay. At home with Winnie. How's Marcella?"

A soft sigh leaves him at the mention of his long-suffering wife. I wonder if he's even had a chance to see her yet. "Last we spoke, she was perfectly fine. Misses you though. You need to come over for dinner soon."

An easy laugh leaves me. Winnie and John aren't the only ones who've been supporting me since Alex died. John's wife Marcie has been there every step of the way too, helping me through rough patches whenever John is away on deployments. And Winnie's never been anything but kind and understanding - it's not in her nature to be anything but.

"Soon," I mumble in agreement. There's a sound on the other end of the line in the background, a murmured snippet of conversation and a drawn-out groan followed by a soft shut up. "Not alone?"

"Got some company," John admits. "Speaking of... does Winslow still have that big trip coming up?"

My palms slick with sweat. Yes. Yes, she does.

Ever since her big promotion six months ago, Winnie's job now involves a lot more travelling than it used to. And - because of that - in three days' time, she'll be in France, starting a month-long assignment helping a struggling marketing firm in Paris.

And I'll be alone.

It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, but I've always had this thing about being alone. It's part of the reason why I live with Winnie; why I've been seeing a therapist since I was sixteen; why I struggle to have normalcy. My current therapist thinks that it's a form of abandonment issues from being orphaned at a young age, which has led to my inability to maintain stable relationships. The therapist before that thought it was something completely different; that I seek to form attachments but wilfully don't, self-sabotaging and creating my own permanent sense of loneliness. But, my point is, I don't react anywhere near as badly to it as I did when I was a kid.

I still remember when I was fifteen and Alex left for his first deployment. I was still living with our maternal grandmother at the time, and I completely shut down. I holed up in my room for almost a whole month, refusing to speak and barely eating or sleeping. I could hardly function for worrying about him...

"Tali?"

I snap out of it. "Sorry. Yes."

"Could you... could I possibly bring some of my guys to your apartment? Just while Winslow is away. Our safehouse in the area has been taken out of action and we need somewhere to lay low for a little while."

My guys. The unit.

"What about your place?" My brow furrows. Surely Marcella wouldn't mind a few guests. She's calm and motherly and takes great pride in hosting. I'm sure she'd be in the element with them.

John clears his throat awkwardly. "Not an option. They don't know."

Ah. The brave, almighty Captain John Price still hasn't told his team that he's married. Typical.

I roll my eyes. "Okay. I hope you know that we're coming back to that later." A beat of silence passes. "How many people are we talking, John? Because it's a two-bedroom flat in London. It's spacious but it's hardly the Tardis."

He snorts out a dry laugh. "Only two. One of the lads is local so he's got family around here he can stay with. And there's some stuff I've got to get done, so I'll be hopping from base to base."

"Where are they going to sleep? Are they going to mind sharing a bed? Because the sofa is comfortable, but I know how you army guys are built..."

There's an awkward silence on Price's end as I hear him shifting around. It takes me a second to realise that he's covering his mouth against his phone's microphone. "Yeah... that's, um- that won't be an issue for them."

Oh.

Oh.

"Okay. Cool. I'll take them."

I wince. Why the fuck did I say cool? Of all the ways that I could respond and I choose that. Way to go, Tali.

"Are you sure that you're okay with this, Tali?" Price asks, his voice soft and encouraging. "If you aren’t, we can find something else-"

"Price, I'll take them in. Winnie leaves on Tuesday morning, so just have them swing by around then, okay?"

Favour asked and questions answered, we say our goodbyes and hang up. It takes me a second to gather my thoughts before padding back into the living room. The moment I step through the hallway, Winslow pauses the TV, angling her head up to look at me. A cloud of black curly hair frames her beautiful face, dark eyes wide and expectant. "Is John back home?"

I wince, getting ready to launch into an explanation. "Not quite."

Tuesday morning rolls around all too soon. By 9 a.m. I'm sitting cross-legged on the foot of Winnie's bed as she packs up her stuff. I can't help but feel a pang of anxiety strike deep in my chest.

"Are you sure that you're gonna be okay?" Winnie asks, almost like she can read my mind.

I meet her dark, knowing gaze and offer her a smile. "Winnie, I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me. If I need anything, I can call Marcella."

She smiles, running a hand through her freshly braided hair. The pearls attached to some strands clink together softly. "Okay. Good. But you've got to call me once a week at least, okay?" Before I can reassure her that I will, she adds, "And you've got to text me every day."

"Winslow, I will. Stop stressing, please."

A moment of easy silence passes before the laughter starts. Both of us crack up, her eyes finding mine and holding my gaze.

Once we've both calmed down, I take a closer look at her cases. She's packing almost everything she owns. It's a sight that worries me, so I look away, deciding to look out of the window instead.

A loud, firm knock on the front door saves me just as Winnie is packing up her last suitcase. We exchange a look before I'm up on my feet, scrambling to answer it. I can't lie, I'm curious to meet John's friends. But I'm also sad. Because there's a strong possibility that they knew Alex too. That they were with him when he died.

When I open the door, there's two men standing in the hallway, just like John said there would be. The first has short brown hair styled into a mohawk, the sides cropped close to his scalp but the top and back left longer. He's broad-chested, muscular too; built like a grizzly bear. And, even though his complexion has a slightly pallid hue under the overhead lights, it's not hard to imagine that he's usually quite tan.

And then there's his friend. Standing next to the grizzly bear and at least half-a-foot taller than him, he has the expression of a man who wants to break me apart with his bare hands just to see what's inside. I fight to meet his intense gaze, taking catalogue of the features visible under the dark hood of his black sweatshirt. His eyes are hazel - I think - skin tanned from what I'd assume are long hours spent out in the sun, and I can't quite make out his hair colour. He's equally if not more muscular than his friendlier-looking counterpart. My eyes trail down to his mouth, drawn to the scar bisecting his bottom lip. It doesn't draw away from his attractiveness though; just adds to the sense of rugged charm that I'm getting from him.

Not that it should matter. It doesn't. They're here because they need help; not because they want to be ogled by a complete stranger.

"Are you John's friends?" I ask stupidly, as if they could be anyone else.

The grizzly bear nods. "Aye. And you are?"

Scottish. Nice. I've always loved the accent, but his is even better. There's a humour there; something uniquely his. It makes me want to keep him talking just so I can hear it more.

"Tali." I step back so that they can come inside. They hesitate for a second before following me into the living room, the tall, silent one closing the door behind him with a soft click. "Also John's friend."

The grizzly bear plops straight down onto the couch, stretching out with no hesitation and making himself at home. His arms drape over the backrest, a lazy grin forming on his lips as he watches me take a seat on my armchair. The tall one gives him a reprimanding look, hovering beside the window behind him. His light eyes are always alert; darting around the room like something's going to jump out at any second.

"You army?" he asks, expression wary. His voice is all gravel with a Manchester accent.

I offer him a small smile. "Nope." I don't think anyone could mistake me for a soldier. I'm small - short and slender - and skittish at the best of times. "So... what should I call you?"

Hazel eyes narrow at me. "Ghost."

The grizzly bear rolls his eyes dramatically, offering me a wide, disarming grin. It's blatantly obvious that he's overcompensating for him. "Callsign is Soap, but a pretty lass like you can call me Johnny."

My heart flutters.

It takes a second to remember what John had said on the phone. Sharing a bed won't be an issue for them. The awkward, implying tone he'd said it in. In other words, neither of them are meant for me.

Ghost eases away from the window to stand just behind the sofa, drawing closer to Johnny. Johnny, on the other hand, moves so that he's leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees as he cocks his head at me. "A friend of Captain Price, are ye?"

I nod softly. "Yes."

"Funny that," Ghost barks, tilting his head to one side. "He's never mentioned you." Thinly veiled suspicion drifts off of him in waves, and it makes me feel endlessly uncomfortable. His harsh gaze melts through my skin and bones, boring deep into my soul.

I shift in my seat. "He never mentioned either of you to me, so I don't think that counts for much."

Johnny lets out a loud laugh. "I think I'm gonna like ye, Tali. Not many people talk back to 'im."

It's in that moment - as I'm silently praying for the floor to open up and swallow me whole - that Winnie steps out of her room, suitcases in tow. She walks into the living room, depositing them by the front door before coming over to introduce herself, a sceptical look on her face.

She levels Ghost with an icy glare, not looking away from him as she asks me, "Everything all okay here, Tali?"

"Yeah, it's alright Winnie." I gesture to each of John's friends in turn. "Winnie, this is Johnny." He raises his hand and waves, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "And that is Ghost." I point to looming, ominous figure behind him.

"Ghost?" she repeats slowly. I nod. "Okay, well I'm leaving now. Tali, I love you and I'll miss you. Remember to call me." She bends at the waist to hug me, wrapping me up in her warm, vanilla-scented embrace. As she straightens, she glares at each of the men in turn. "And you two - don't give her any shit. If I find out you've made her feel uncomfortable even once, not even John will be able to save you. Got it?"

Johnny stares up at my friend, mystified. His blue eyes are bright as he nods. "Don't worry. We won't be any trouble."

Winnie turns back to face me. "Right, I've got to go or I'll miss my ride to the airport. I'll be back before you even know I'm gone, okay?"

"I know," I say, my voice soft. "I love you. Be safe and text me when you land."

With a nod, Winnie presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head then gets her last few bits together. And then she leaves. Leaving me alone with two complete strangers. Yay.

"So," I grumble, struggling against the urge to shy away from their intense gazes in the safety of my room, "do you want to see where you'll be staying?"

Later that night, the three of us gather in the living room to watch TV.

The guys didn't have much to unpack. They travelled light so I'm going to have to go shopping sometime soon to buy them some essentials; more clothes and toiletries. Definitely food too. If dinner tonight was any indication, they eat a lot.

I'm curled up in my armchair again, watching something that Johnny chose on Netflix. Every once and a while, I glance across at them. Ghost is sitting upright, legs stretched out in front of him. His legs are so long that his feet are tucked under the coffee table. And then there's Johnny. He's laying on his side on the sofa, his head resting on Ghost's muscular thighs. Every now and then, Ghost's hand runs down the length of Johnny's side, stroking him in soothing, rhythmic motions.

Looking at them, I can't help but feel a sense of longing. Jealousy that they're together and obviously quite happy. That they're comfortable enough around one another for these subconscious displays of affection.

I'll never have that. It's something that I've come to accept. I'm twenty-five now and I've never had a serious relationship. I don't even think I want one. For a period of time in my late teens, I thought that I might be aro-ace, but over time I've gathered that I do feel romantic and sexual attraction. It's just different.

The sad truth is that I don't trust anyone enough to believe that they'd stay with me. Love me. Make me feel safe enough for displays of casual affection. There would always be that looming sense of dread that they'd leave me sooner or later.

In my head, I've justified it. If I don't get into relationships, no one can leave me. Alex's death all but solidified that for me.

The rom-com Johnny picked out gets to a comedic scene - a naked beach fight - and he starts to chuckle. I join him and I swear even Ghost lets out a little snort. We're all laughing until...

"Fuck. Johnny, you're bleeding."

My heart crawls up into my throat. My eyes snap across to them, blatantly looking now. The white t-shirt Johnny is wearing is plastered to his side, a red patch seeping through the fabric, spreading across his ribs.

He sits upright, holding it with one large hand. "Ah fuck. Didn't get any on the sofa, did ah'?"

"Fuck the sofa," I splutter out in a panic. "Are you okay? Why are you bleeding? Should I call an ambulance?"

Johnny looks back at me with a quizzical expression while Ghost just sighs, standing up. He walks towards the bedrooms at an unhurried pace, stopping along the way to press a chaste kiss to Johnny's forehead, placing a loving hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, darling, I'll get the bag." Hazel eyes swing towards me, where I'm still panicking in my armchair. "His dressing just needs changing, and I'll check his stitches. He's fine, love."

I ease back into my seat, heat rushing to my cheeks. "Oh."

Ghost leaves the room, heading into my bedroom to get the aforementioned bag. I've decided to give them my room for the duration of their stay because it has an en-suite. It eliminates the risk of me accidentally stumbling in on them in the shared bathroom that doesn't have a working lock. Overall, it's safer for everyone that I'm staying in Winnie's room.

Feeling more than a little foolish for my outburst, I offer Johnny a weak smile. "I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight, Johnny."

"Ye sure?" he asks, blue eyes tinted with a hint of... something. Maybe disappointment? I don't know. "The movie isn't over yet. You seemed like ye were enjoying it." His brow furrows. "We could watch something else."

"I'm sure. It's fine; I'm just tired. We can watch another movie tomorrow night if you want."

His eyes light up at that. "Yeah, sounds perfect."

I'm back in Winnie's room by the time Ghost leaves mine. I can hear his footsteps padding down the hallway. Hear their muffled conversation and muted laughter.

As I fall asleep, I can't help but feel a different kind of loneliness. And, as I drift off, my heart aches for what Ghost and Johnny have.

a/n: guess who's back! so Tali has finally met the boys :) sorry if this part is a little short, just wanted to get something out in time for christmas for you guys - merry christmas and take care of yourselves, lapetitelapin

[lostonehero]

I don't know if this will be cannon or not

That's why I'm posting it here and not my Google docs

But Hoenn Intermission

Maxie was fuming in the past 3 months he has only gotten text, phone calls, amd maybe a video call from Archie. That stupid pirate was testing his patience he has broken three binders thanks to him, and he was going to pay for it. His own admins have been trying and failing to calm his hot temper but it wasn't working, and they were concerned about the other admins.

Maxie took another deep breath as Shelly once again told him Archie wasn't at the former Aqua base she was guarding, but he coukd smell him. He couldn't say that though he already looked crazy. "Shelly I am requesting in a calm fashion to see Archie or at least know the truth on why he has been avoiding me."

"He's been avoiding everyone leader Maxie." Courtney sighs.

"That isn't the point." Maxie grits his teeth and he can feel his teeth covers crack under the strain. "I'm going through you if I must."

Shelly rolls her eyes. "All the doors inside are solid steel Maxie you can't be possibly thinking you can go through them."

"Fucking watch me Shelly."

Tabithia sighs. "Is Matt with Archie? I mean I've just been meaning to speak with him that's all."

Shelly was about to answer as Maxie stomped past her and heads inside. "Maxie I am warning you if you continue I will have to use force to stop you."

Maxie straightens up his binder ripping with his wings and tail threatening to spill forth. "Then fucking fight me because if you're going to keep wasting my time I'm going inside."

Shelly sighs and throws her hands up. "Fine break your arms trying to open metal doors be my guest." She looks at Tabithia and Courtney. "You really weren't lying about how short his temper has been."

Tabithia frowns. "He made so many grunts cry in the past weeks. Is Archie ok?"

Shelly nods. "He is fine but I'd I'm being honest it has something to do with the blue orb and that whole stuff, and he just doesn't want to cause another panic with the public we are trying so hard to be better."

Tabithia hums. "Well I'm going to apologize on Maxie's behalf, you're going to need new doors."

"What did the same thing happen with the red orb?" Shelly braces for an earthquake which never came. However the sound of metal ripping echoed through the Aqua base.

Courtney hums. "Apologizes for the door."

..........

Matt was sitting with Archie when they both watched in horror as the door was wrenched open with green clawed hands. Matt and Archie both had pokeballs on hand fir the worst.

Maxie finally took the door off its hinges and pushed it to the floor. "For fucks sake Archie you dissapear for three months and you were hiding here." He was fuming literally smoke was pouring out of his mouth. "And for what an incident with the blue orb, well fucking newsflash Archibald the red orb cracked and shattered nearly six months ago and I'm fine what the fuck is wrong with you."

Archie was stunned amd in a quiet voice. "Maxie you're smoking."

Maxie takes a deep breath and sighs calming enough that the flamethrower that was ready to blow subsided. The smoke stopped and he growls making both Archie and Matt shudder. "What the fuck have you've been doing Archie?"

"Why are your hands green?" Asking questions would distract Maxie long enoigh to relax he has done it before.

Maxie blinks hunching over again looking at his hands and the remains of his thermal gloves. "I uh they are scales, and I didn't realize I took off my gloves." He blinks and looks at Archie and tilts his head. "Why do you have a tail?"

Archie sighs Maxie finally relaxing. "Well the blue orb shattered I was in a horrible state for 3 weeks scarred Matt and Shelly for life and now I have pokemon parts that match Kyorge and my legs become a full tail or Un fuse with my existing tail in the water." He scowls. "Yeah and aren't you suppose to have red scales if the red orb shattered?"

"Why would my scales be red?" Maxie looks genuinely confused.

Matt spoke up. "Your acting if your scales are normal."

"But they are." Maxie hums and realizes he fucked up. "Ah that's right you guys didn't know."

"Know what Max." Archie stands up walking over to Maxie looking down at him then steps back as Maxie stands up straight and they are the same height.

Maxie stretches and removes his layers then ruined binder letting his wings and tail free. "My mother is the spirit of the desert or am alpha flygon she doesn't actually have a name herself."

Matt jumps back

Archie's face starts to fill with a red blush. "Your mom is a flygon, how does that even work?"

"Alpha pokemon have human forms. That's not the point fuck you for avoiding me, do you have any idea how worried I was about you and you're just here fine. Fuck you Archie I'm going home." Maxie huffs wrapping his wings and tail loosely around his body and picks up his discarded clothes.

Archie grabs Maxie's hand. "Aw Max you were worried about me, that's really sweet."

Maxie growls "fuck it." He pulls Archie into a long kiss. "I fucking hate how much I love you asshole pirate."

Archie is left stunned watching Maxie leave his face bright red. "Love you too Maxie."

Matt totally not caring about the reveal. "SHELLY SHELLY THEY DID IT THEY KISSED YOU OWE ME 200$"

[hazbbyhaz]

sleepless || harry styles

twenty three

pairing: Harry Styles x OC

synopsis: story circle

disclaimer: that bloke Eric, harassment, cursing

One of the luckiest things to happen to you in life is, I think, to have a happy childhood

Avery had never stayed at a party till the very end. She wasn't a fan of the loud noises, the crowded space, the drunks. The atmosphere itself made her anxious. As the hand of the kitchen clock finally hit twelve, she assumed the party would start to die down. She thought people would slowly funnel out, all bidding their goodbyes and frantically making their way to the tube. Their thoughts, no doubt, thinking about the inevitable hangover they will face tomorrow. But, that didn’t happen. If anything, the party intensified. While she knew that she could go home, she didn’t want to. If she did, she would fall asleep. If she left, she would be alone.

A few minutes earlier a small group of people had formed, all of them sat around the living room. Harry, who was exhausted from showing Avery his amazing dance skills, had led her to where he was previously sitting, both of them sitting side by side on the sofa.

Francis, who sat opposite them, held up a cupcake with blue frosting and sprinkles all over it. "Okay, who made these cupcakes because they are so good! I need the recipe."

"All the credits to me," Another boy spoke up, he had black short hair and there was a golden earring dangling from his earlobe. "can't give you that recipe though, it's my mothers." He shrugs and Francis groans dramatically, making everyone laugh.

Avery sat in silence, taking everything in around her. The atmosphere started to grow on her. Harry grew worried by her silence, asking her multiple times if she was feeling okay, but she was having the time of her life. She loved hearing about everyone's family reunions, annoying relatives and friends who got married. It was so different to her life and she wished she could tell a story about her family. But she couldn't. Even Harry chimed in talking about one Christmas night when he was six and tried to catch Santa, tripping over the cable for the electric candles on the tree and causing the whole thing to fall over.

"Okay" Francis speaks up. "I want to hear the most embarrassing thing that happened to you in your childhood or teenage years. Starting with..." His eyes skimmed through the room before deciding on a ginger haired girl. "Zoe."

The stories went all over the place. From awkward kisses to first dates and failed pranks or trying to impress crushes. And before she realized, it was Avery's turn to tell her story. Her first instinct was to let them skip her, but no one in the group was having it. There wasn't anything to say, she had been homeschooled and her childhood had been not even close to any experiences here.

"Uhm... I don't really know... what to-"

"Oh come on, pet." A sudden movement in the corner of her eyes makes Avery move closer to Harry in fright. She gripped his forearm, Harry immediately noticing and taking her hand into his own, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on the back of her palm. Eric had sat down next to her on the tiny sofa, apparently deciding to join the little circle as well. "Don't act all innocent. Tell us, what did you do as a child?"

"If you'd let her talk she'd be able to answer, mate" Harry chimed in, throwing an annoyed look at Eric.

"Nothing comes to my mind right now." She quickly rambles, trying to just get out of this situation. Being the center of attention must be high up on the list of worst things in the world she thought. The eyes of all these people fixed on her made her incredibly uncomfortable.

"Oh, so she is all innocent" Eric exclaims, his breath smelling like beer and his words almost unnoticeably slurred.

She could sense Harry roll his eyes beside her before he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Tell something about Oliver, love."

"Oh yes!" Avery grins, embarrassed for a second at how loud her voice was. "I have a cat and he used to balance on the rail of my balcony. There was one time where I had just gotten out of the shower, still in just a towel, and I saw him balancing outside on the railing. I got super scared that he would fall off, so I ran out and grabbed him, and in the process my towel dropped which ended up in me flashing an old lady living opposite me."

"Oh my god, that sounds horrendous!" Francis laughs.

"It was horrible, I didn't step foot on that balcony for a month." She giggled less aware of all the eyes on her. They continued on but Harry was still chuckling from Avery's story. "Oliver really is a bastard, huh?"

"No" Avery laughs. "He's so cute, I just had to forgive him."

Harry shakes his head but there was still a smile on his face. His eyes meet hers and he studies her face for a moment. "You look a bit tired."

"I am" She confesses, leaning her head against his shoulder. There was no reason for denying it, especially not when she was talking to Harry.

"Do you wanna try and get some sleep tonight?"

"Not really" With the party, and Harry sleeping over the night before, there surely was a lot on her mind and Avery wasn't eager to simply sleep it all off.

"I can put a pot of coffee on?"

She sits up with a grin. "That would be amazing."

"I’ll make you a cup." Harry knew that what he was doing was wrong. He shouldn’t be encouraging her sleeping habits, or lack thereof. But, making the night most bearable for her was his top priority, and if this was how, then that was that. Case closed.

"Thank you."

He gets up and disappears in the kitchen shortly after. Avery turns her attention back to the stories being told by all the strangers sat around her. Now that Harry isn't around, she felt irritable and increadoubly out of place now that he was gone. She groans internally because she knows that she has been relying on him too much. She was dependent on him. She felt as if she was no longer independent.

When it came to her job, paying bills, doing taxes, and managing her things, she had always been independent. She had to be. But as soon as she got confronted with social interactions, she simply couldn't stop her heart from beating or her thoughts from racing.

"So.. Avery,'' Eric beside her starts, turning his body towards her and leaning back against the armrest of the sofa, a new bottle of beer in his right hand. "How old are you?"

She fiddles with the hem of her sweater, feeling his burning gaze on her. "22" Avery whispers, focusing her attention on the guy with the black hair who is telling some story that she is too far away to hear. She was trying to show Eric that she really ins't interested in talking to him, but he doesn't get the hint.

"You live on your own then, right? At 22? That's impressive."

She nods, still avoiding his eyes, trying to concentrate on the story.

"Is it far from here?"

"Just a couple tube stops." Just don't look at him, ignore him.

"Hey, loosen up a bit, hm?" Eric jokes and his hand squeezes her thigh, making her jump cause she wasn't expecting him to be so bold.

"Please don’t touch me." She mumbles, scooting closer to the other end of the sofa. Eric simply shrugs, moving closer to her but before he can say anything else, a ball of crumpled paper hits his head. Avery looks up and notices that Francis was the culprit.

"Hey Eric!" He yells over. "Cut it out. You're being annoying."

Eric rolls his eyes at Francis, ignoring his request and turning back to the girl beside him, but Francis doesn't stop. "I mean it. Leave her alone or get the fuck out, okay?"

After huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf, Eric finally gets up and walks towards a little group by the fireplace on the other side of the room.

Avery lets out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. Finally feeling relieved knowing that he was away from her. She got up, about to thank Francis, before realizing that he had completely disappeared. Lost in the abyss of the party. So, Avery slowly made her way to the kitchen, knowing that Harry would be there.

Harry was leaning against the kitchen counter, texting someone on his phone, his brows furrowed. As Avery enters he looks up, his eyes becoming a bit brighter and his brows unfurrowed. "Your coffee is almost ready." He says, assuming that was the reason why she came to the kitchen.

"It's boring without you." She felt how her body had calmed down substantially, her heart had turned back to a normal beat and her mind slowed down.

"Everything in life is boring without me," Harry says and she chuckles tiredly at his ego. "Come over here."

Avery scrambles over to him and Harry opens his arms, pulling her small frame close to his chest. She allowed herself to close her eyes and take in his scent as Harry rested his chin on her head. Avery guessed that he would leave somewhen, maybe soon and there would be no one to blame for it. No one at all. Because if she can't stand herself, how could she expect someone else to be around her.

"Whatever happened to you, Ave, no matter what it was, you didn't deserve it. I know you didn't." She freezes but Harry doesn't let her go, instead he starts to draw small circles on her back. "I noticed how you were acting earlier when everyone was telling their stories. You seemed so... eager to take it all in as if.. I don't know..." He murmurs, she feels the vibration of his chest against her cheek.

"It doesn't matter to me what it was, and you don't have to tell me, but you didn't deserve it."

She had never told anyone. Not her previous boyfriends, not Tom, she could barely admit any of it to herself. For a moment, she thought about not replying at all.

"But don't you think bad things happen to bad people?"

"Oh Avery... I think you can be anything you want to be in life. Anything but a bad person."

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@serenametanoia @magicalmongerherringfan @caliqueenbed @thebestthingyouneverhad

[lunarsaga]

EPISODE 1: Here Comes Trouble

[[HERE WE GO, BITCHES! Fanfic and Fanart combine to make some unholy mix of Time Consumption that will not leave me alone.

THE LUNAR SAGA, EPISODE 1, START!

Note: the text in the panels doesn't match the actual written portion of the fic ^^; I tried my best but I didn't wanna redraw all of this... ]]

===============

Kagome had been gone longer than she usually was, and Inuyasha was getting impatient.

They’d finally gotten their first lead on Naraku since his disappearance—that he was heading in the direction of the Ox and Tiger (Kagome called it “noh-rth-eest”?)—this was no time for her to be going back to her world! He tried to tell her that when she left, but she insisted that she was going home to bring back something that would help them.

She’d been gone for almost ten days now! What could possibly be taking so long?!

The half demon sat beside the well, seething as he waited for something to happen. He’d been at this pretty much constantly since the day after she left. He had half a mind to follow her down the well to her world and drag her back here; he’d done it before, he could do it again.

“Don’t you dare follow me!” Kagome had said before she left, “I might be gone a while, but I promise it’ll be worth it!”

“Ain’t worth it if we lose track of Naraku because you’re taking so long,” he growled to no one in particular. Obviously, he got no response from the dry well, so he stood up and raised his voice: “HURRY THE HELL UP, KAGOME!”

“Inuyasha?”

Inuyasha jumped from surprise when he saw Kagome hop up out of the well. She sat on the edge, smiling just softly. A little embarrassed that he was yelling at the well, Inuyasha folded his arms and cleared his throat.

“It’s about time you got back, Kagome,” he said. “What took you so damn long?!”

Kagome sighed, still smiling as she set her feet on the ground and stepped closer to him. “I told you, I had to get something. It took a second, but I said it’d be worth it, didn’t I?”

“I hope you’re right,” he snorted, “Because if Naraku gets away cos you took too long over there—”

He didn’t get to finish his thought. He hadn’t been paying attention to the well at all; usually, he wouldn’t have needed to. This time, he would definitely regret it. From the depths of the well came a voice he’d never heard before:

“HEADS UP!”

He didn’t even have time to wonder who the hell’s voice it was. Seconds later, something heavy flew out of the well and smacked him square in the face.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

Kagome laughed nervously, holding her hands up, “Uh… that would be her.”

Anger boiling and holding his freshly bruised nose, Inuyasha shouted back at her: “WHO?!”

“Keep your pants on!” Came that same voice again. Inuyasha turned his attention back to the well as someone he’d never seen before pushed herself out of the well.

She dressed strangely—that was a given, she seemed to be from Kagome’s time—and carried a large, oddly-shaped bag on her back. She had thick waves of black hair, much longer than Kagome’s, but pretty much the same shade of jet black. Not only that, she seemed to resemble Kagome in a lot of ways, even if she looked much older. They had the same shape of face, the same nose, and the same round, brown eyes—although, if he looked close enough, he could see a strange pattern in this girl’s irises: little flecks of pale gold, asymmetrically surrounding her pupils.

Inuyasha was immediately on edge, his hand going instinctively for his sword hilt. Kagome saw, and shook her head, setting her hand on his arm.

“Relax, Inuyasha,” She said, “This is who I went back to get.”

“Sorry, did my bag getcha?” The girl asked as she hopped out of the well.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome continued, gesturing to the older girl, “Allow me to introduce you to my older sister. This is Luna.”

For a second, it didn’t set in. Inuyasha blinked once… twice… “Your… sister? You have a sister?!”

“She sure does,” the girl—Luna—stood tall, grinning and holding out her hand. As she did, she said something he didn’t understand. It sounded like weird gibberish. When she saw his face, she laughed and smacked her palm to her forehead. “Right, sorry. Still getting used to speaking Japanese more than I do English.”

Once again confused, Inuyasha just stared at her. “In-glesh?”

Luna nodded. “It’s the common language where I live.”

“Inuyasha, Luna lives in a different place than the rest of our family,” Kagome explained, “She lives in a country that’s across the ocean, called America.”

“A-mare-i-kah…” Inuyasha tried to say. “Sounds weird.”

“Oh it is, definitely.” Luna laughed, going to pick up her bag.

“Is that what took you so long?” Inuyasha asked Kagome, “You had to wait for her to travel across the ocean?”

“Didn’t take as long as you’d think, had to visit mom and gramps and Sota, too.” It was weird how casual this girl was about everything. “But I can explain why I’m here and where I’m from once we get to where we’re going, right?”

“Right,” Kagome agreed, smiling as she led her sister back toward Kaede’s village. “You gotta meet everyone else, too!”

“Looking forward to it.”

Inuyasha wasn’t sure how to process what the hell just happened. It was a lot of information in a very short amount of time, most of which he didn’t understand, and all of which he didn’t really like. He wasn’t sure how to feel about a new person joining their group, nevermind that he never knew Kagome had more family than the ones he’d met before. And the fact that she threw a heavy bag at his face certainly didn’t help. (Well… it was an accident, but still. It hurt.)

Well… at least Kagome was back, and the most important thing was that they could get on with their search for Naraku.

~ ~ ~

Alright, time to back up a little bit.

Now, there may have been a reason why Kagome didn’t really mention her sister. Part of it might have been that it would be hard to explain that her sister lived on another continent, but another part might have been that it would be even harder to explain why. And the reason it would be so hard to explain—for Kagome specifically—would be because of their father.

Now, the Higurashi family had quite a long history of shrine keepers, priests, and priestesses, dating back several hundred years. Along with that lineage came a propensity for spiritual magic and a connection to the supernatural, as well as the metaphysical, and Keiichirou Higarashi—father to Kagome, Luna, and Sota— was no exception. However, he had bigger dreams than shrine-keeping.

A bit of a rebel, Keiichirou spent some time in America during High School as a part of an exchange program. It was there, through the family that hosted him, that he found a world that he never would have imagined.

The underground world of Supernatural Monster Hunters.

He spent his high school years in America learning all about it: how to fight and protect people against different monsters, some of them like the ones his father told him stories of growing up. When he returned home, he declared that he’d found his calling, and when he could finally afford to, he would move to America to follow it.

His father worried about the fate of the Higurashi Shrine if his only child were to abandon their family’s legacy. Keiichirou wouldn’t back down, but found when he returned home, that the Hunting world extended even to Japan—not quite to the extent that it was in the States, but he could still find a middle ground between what he wanted and what his father did.

And in the interim, he fell in love and married a wonderful woman named Mei, who accepted his weird, secret world wholeheartedly.

The Higurashis’ first child was born on the first day of November, during a very full Harvest Moon. When she opened her eyes for the first time, the doctor immediately diagnosed her with partial Heterochromia; her hazel-brown eyes were speckled with gold just around her irises, making it look like she had little crescent moons in her eyes. Keiichirou chose her name for these reasons; he’d heard it when he was in America, a name that meant “moon”. Luna.

It was seven years until their next child came into the world: Kagome, named for the eight-pointed star Mei saw on her chest after she was born. Keiichirou was excited when he heard about that; he said that both of his girls had special gifts, and hoped they would one day do amazing things with them.

But another six years passed… and things weren’t so happy in the Higurashi house. Keiichirou had already started teaching Luna about the Supernatural world, where Mei thought she was too young. Keiichirou had grown weary over the years, still longing to go back to America, where the Hunter culture was strongest.

When Luna was thirteen, Kagome six, and Sota only a newborn, their parents separated.

Luna was old enough at that point, that her parents let her decide where she wanted to be. Enthralled by the idea of being a Hunter, she wanted to follow her father, even if it meant leaving the rest of her family.

Travel between the two countries was difficult; Luna was lucky if she saw her little sister and brother once a year. But they kept in touch as much as they could: by letter, by email, and a phone call every once in a while.

Then, just four years after he and Luna left Japan, Keiichirou passed away very suddenly of an illness. Despite her family’s insistence that she come back and live in Japan, Luna remained in her father’s house. She knew, by then, that she was too far into the Hunter world to leave; not to mention that she had Alice (an old family friend, let’s say for now), who had been helping take care of her anyway. So she stayed in America, as five more years went by.

She hadn’t talked to her sister in months, when she got a call from her out of the blue:

“Hey Luna, um… So, I’ve got quite the story to tell you…”

~ ~ ~

So here she was, Luna Higurashi, a 22-year-old American Monster Hunter, standing 500-ish years in the past, explaining herself to a half-dog-demon, a kitsune, a nekomata, a Demon Slayer, and a Buddhist Monk. All of whom were extremely surprised to find that Kagome had a sister.

“Nice to get to meet you all,” She said, “Kagome told me all about your adventures. She brought me here to help you get rid of that Naraku guy.”

“Kagome never told us she had a sister!” The little kitsune—Shippo—piped up first.

“So I’ve heard,” Luna chuckled, crossing her arms.

Sango, the Demon Slayer, looked rather interested in the guitar case Luna was carrying on her back. “You mentioned you were a Slayer too? That must be an impressive weapon you’re carrying.”

“Huh? Oh, no,” Luna shook her head, tugging on the strap. “This is just my guitar. It’s a musical instrument—all my weapons are in my duffel bag.”

While her attention was on Sango, Luna failed to notice the monk approaching her until he took her hand in his. “A demon slayer and a musician! To think Kagome never told us she had such a beautiful and accomplished sister.”

Luna just stared at him, but she could feel the tension rising from the Slayer next to her. It was like standing next to a crackling thunderstorm with lightning bolts ready to strike. But she had nothing to worry about, Luna wasn’t about to fall for it.

“Never did mention me, huh?” She reversed the gentle grip Miroku had on her hand, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it sideways; a warning. “But she did tell me about you. And if you value your hands, you’ll keep them to yourself.”

Miroku laughed nervously, “Ahahaha—ow! Th-there’s no need to be rash! I meant nothing by it!”

The thunderstorm was gone. Sango was smirking as Luna let the monk go. “Oh, I like her.”

Kagome sighed, shook her head and smiled. “Welcome to the group, sis.”

[bluemonkwrites]

Hello blue monk! I have a relationship advice query if you have the time.

My boyfriend of six months (who I see myself being with long into the future) has a very close female friend who he still speaks to. She was once my best friend in the world, but we had a falling out and she ghosted me. I asked him some months ago if he ever had feelings for her, and he said he did, but doesn't anymore. Still, the fact that they text often and are so very close makes me anxious and uncomfortable. What should I do about this? Set a boundary? Trust that he no longer has feelings for her and won't treat her romantically? I have no one else to talk to about this that isn't already invested somehow, so thank you for reading this.

Hiya, Anonymous.

Though it is perfectly plausible for people of the opposite sex to have good and fruitful friendships, even if they have or had feelings, one has to guard one’s heart, not to the point of anxious distrust, but to prevent damage to everyone involved. And that damage is not just to your heart, but your outlook for the future. People need friends of all kinds. When we fall in love, everyone else in the world is secondary. But as we develop relationships that involve commitments, we have to realize that even the most love-struck couples are not healthy isolated from the rest of the world.

I have a lot of female friends, but make it a point to not pursue any interaction that I would be uncomfortable explaining or showing to my wife. Not thinking ahead on this has caused us much unnecessary grief. This is where I advise you to start. Don’t look at this as a hard and fast rule, but an idea that can evolve as each of you grows as people.

I am concerned not that it is just a female friend at the center of this, but one who made a conscious decision to cease all connection to you. What motivation does she have for that as well as for cultivating a relationship with someone you love? If she is not willing to be your friend, what does this say about your boyfriend’s connection to her? 

Let’s assume he is being honest (to you and himself) about not having feelings for her at this moment. If you are nowhere in the circle of friends where they are concerned, then who is to say that the old feelings will not come back or be stoked into flame? They may be just friends at the moment, but what happens when you and he go through a difficult patch and his “close” friend becomes the confidant or consoler? 

I do not want to sow distrust. I don’t know these people or you. I cannot say what is best for you, and I do not want to make assumptions about anyone. But hard questions need to be asked and uncomfortable answers provided. Otherwise, you or he or she will find yourselves in the middle of avoidable pain and suffering.

I also don’t like ultimatums. I have seen a great deal of damage done to relationships when a “she or me” approach is required. Because that is not love; it is control. I believe in your circumstances, the decisions should be as much on her side as his.  In the best possible world, no one would have to cut another person out (or be forced out because some sort of breach has happened). In the best world, all of you could be friends. Maybe a reconciliation can happen. But even if not, some reasonable boundaries probably need to be agreed to (for example, no communication or contact he would not be okay sharing with or including you).

When we love (romantically or as friends), we have to get past the feelings we have at the moment, and expect our thoughts and feelings to ebb and flow, and hopefully deepen. I don’t just want to “be” with my wife; I want to “grow old” with her, with emphasis on the growing part. Expect this from your close friends and potential life partners, and you may have pain here and there, but your life will be better in the long run.

I am sorry I have rambled so much on this question, and I really hope my response is clear and helpful. I pray you can work this out with your boyfriend so that you can have a fruitful and deepening relationship. God bless you and him and even her.

[unicyclehippo]

omg can you please write a sequel/ part 2 to that supercorp fic you just posted where Lena finds out Kara is supergirl?!? It was so great but now I'm stressing that Lena doesn't react well. Only if you've got time of course :) also I love how you write supercorp in general, it's amazing and feels so on point

i have a fever & im hacking up a lung: this is, in my humble opinion, the time when my writing ability rly soars. rly comes into its strengths. rly just,,, fucjin rocks. enjoy, ur welcome :))/

kara has been waiting, and hoping - and stress eating her way through the kids menu - and more hoping, beyond the normal bounds of hope, that lena will turn up for the dinner date they’d set up before… before all that “i’m an alien blah blah specifically supergirl blah blah blah” stuff.

kara shoves her hand into her bowl of fries, pats around to find one as she checks the long row of windows and the two doors for any sign of lena. her face falls when all she encounters is the cool ceramic feeling of betrayal. and no lena.

she flags down a waiter.

“can i get another of the fries, please?”

he looks at her like he knows she’s already eaten her way through six of them. or maybe like he knows she’s been stood up. it makes her feel worse - slump back in her chair and try to keep from feeling like her heart is being crushed kind of worse - and he nods hurriedly and scurries away into the kitchen.

she pulls out her phone, taps on the second contact, aaalex.

>if after three hours someone hasn’t shown up to a dinner….

>u got stood up>or they’re dead

kara rolls her eyes. then has a minor panic because, well, lena is kind of a magnet for attempted murder. she strains her ears to listen for lena but it’s futile this close to the ground, this close to so many people.

>kara >lenas fine>dont break the restaurant or ur phone

kara blinks down at her phone.

>have you been playing with the telepath drugs

>no lol i learned my lesson. i just figured she’s the only one u have been going on dates with so…

kara glares down at her phone, taps the CALL button with furious precision.

“we aren’t dating, alex. they’re friend dates. dates between friends.”

“mhm.”

“and also i have been on plenty of dates lately!”

“sure,” alex allows, but kara suspects she’s only half listening.

“they’re not dates,” she mutters. “but she did stand me up.”

“yeah i know. you put your "date between friends” in my calendar so i was kind of surprised when she marched herself into my office tonight. she signed everything.“ alex waits for a moment. kara says nothing, just stubbornly munches through the fries the waiter puts in front of her. she’s relieved to hear lena is actually okay, and that she signed, but it’s all overshadowed by the fact that lena isn’t here, with her, eating something kara can’t pronounce and gushing about the science she’s been working on and the way she smiles when kara orders seconds and tries to pay and alex is talking again. "not sure what kind of damage control thats worth, if any. i mean, she’s a luthor. but i told j'onn not to even think about wiping her. or, i thought it really loudly.”

kara sighs.

“as is my right as a big sister, i get to tell you you’re an idiot,” alex says, far more mildly than kara expected. or deserved, really. “so what the hell happened? i thought we’d at least talk about it before you told her.”

“it wasn’t something i could deny. maybe i could’ve,” kara mutters, “if it weren’t for my too expressive face.”

“the too expressive face,” alex agrees unhappily. “you got us in a lot of trouble with that.”

kara rolls her eyes. “sorry twelve years late?” she offers and alex hums her thanks. “plus m'gann said hi. like she knew me, you know? she didn’t know someone was with me, it’s not her fault, but yeah. lena knew. i could see it. and then we were at her place and i realised she just knew i was an al- a foreigner,” she corrects, looking around the mostly empty restaurant, “and not supergirl,”

“hold up. she let you into her place knowing you’re an alien?”

“yeah.”

“huh, okay.”

“what?”

“no, nothing. let me guess, you told her.”

“dramatic reveal and all.”

“and this was…”

“last night.” kara checks her watch, lifts her hand to get the bill. she grimaces when she sees how expensive it is to eat her way through her feelings. but hey, if she’s going all out, what’s a little more? “can i get two of your pizzas takeaway and also four brownies? please.”

the waiter looks ill at the request but kara is too upset to care that she’s eaten way too much tonight. by human standards. she could still eat.

“alex, you still there?”

“yup.”

“are you free tonight?”

“nope.” she pops the ‘p��� with some relish. “day off tomorrow, maggie and i are taking our bikes down the coast, remember?”

“right, right.” kara hands over her card to the waiter, signs the bill he brings over. “what do i do?”

“about lena?”

“no, about the state of affairs in, ugh i can’t be bothered,” she mutters. “yes, about lena.”

“um. well, she hasn’t tried to kill you yet so…talk to her?” kara hears her step out into an echoing room - the parking lot, she guesses, and alex’s car beeps. “hold on, i’ll switch you to my hands free,”

“no, no, it’s okay. drive safe and have fun tomorrow.”

“we will. and i love you.”

“love you too.”

//

“hi, jess.”

“kara!” jess smiles over at her. “late night for everyone, hmm?”

“yeah, what are you doing here? it’s midnight, you should be home.”

“i’m just finishing up some work, i have the week off from tomorrow,” she explains. “do you want to see miss luthor?”

her phone buzzes on the side and jess glances up at kara after reading the message.

“let me guess, she’s not in.” jess gives her an awkward smile and kara closes her eyes, nods. “of course,” she says quietly. “okay, well,” she swallows around the thick feeling of tears and sets the brownies on the counter. “um. these are for her. or you. have a good night bye have a fun week,” she says very quickly and almost runs back to the elevator.

it dings open in seconds and kara rushes in, leans back against the wall of it. she holds herself together as much as she can, can’t really help sniffling but she can excuse that on a cold. she stares over at the shut box doors of the elevator and knows the second she gets home she’s going flying.

//

she wonders if she still has her aunts suit. she doesn’t feel like reds and blues tonight, wants to fly without the expectation that comes with her suit.

//

the suit, alex tells her, was quarantined.

kara shoves herself into some old jeans and a deep blue sweater and jumps into the sky. when she’s higher than the tallest building, she rolls onto her back and floats, staring up at the sky.

winn is still in the DEO headquarters. she doesn’t fly down, but she hears him typing away and watching some show on his second monitor. he’s been working late a lot lately. she doesn’t know if something is wrong or if it’s more guardian business but she misses him. she’d text him an invite, or ask him about a game night, only she left her phone at home.

james is on the phone to lucy when she flies overhead and they’re over but he still sounds adoring when he speaks to her, and happy.

alex is - doing things no sister needs to hear.

“kara.”

lena’s voice is small and kara jerks, almost rolls into the path of a bat, before she detects the slight slight whine of a voicemail.

“i know it’s late, you’re probably asleep, i just wanted to talk and,”

kara lands with a slight thump on lena’s office balcony and lena turns. the slight stutter of her heart comes not when she sees kara’s face, but her body. or, clothes.

“kara.”

she ends her voicemail, steps over to unlock the door.

“hi. i wasn’t - i was flying, i heard you.”

“oh.” lena’s fingers twitch. she folds her arms. “i signed everything.”

“yeah. alex told me.”

“i apologise for missing dinner.”

kara takes a step back, shakes her head. lena looks nervous the moment she frowns and it rips at kara. she takes another step back.

“you didn’t miss it. you stood me up.” lena doesn’t say anything. “why - what does it change?” she asks. “how am i different?” she tries to keep the frustration from her voice but whatever, she’s upset that her best friend is all wonky over this, fight her about it.

“you’re supergirl.”

“yeah.”

“i’m,”

“if you say a luthor i’m going to scream,” kara tells her, and lena’s teeth click closed around that exact phrase. “i’ve been telling you for months that i don’t care about that.”

“that’s from before i knew,”

“but i knew!” kara cries. “i knew, and i meant it, and i still mean it, and i just want,” she stutters to a stop, lifts a hand to her eyes. she’s not wearing her glasses so she just covers them with a hand and slowly drags it away when she’s contained again. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you. i didn’t want things to change. i didn’t,” the reason, or a reason, occurs to her and she sags a little. it’s selfish but lena deserves to know. “i didn’t want you to leave me,” she tells her, in a small voice.

lena has been very quiet and still as kara spoke and now she nods. “i am sorry about tonight. sometimes, i do things like that. when someone’s upset me.” she rolls her eyes delicately. “i’ve been told it’s a defence. throw someone off balance so i feel we’re on equal terms again.” her eyes are dark, cool. “i didn’t know. that you were an alien. i keep thinking and thinking, and i keep picking out all these instances and i just,” she shakes her head. “i can’t believe i didn’t know. i don’t like that i didn’t know.”

“i’m sorry.”

lena nods. “i can’t promise everything will be as it was before.”

kara nods as well. things - this, them - have changed and nothing goes back to how it was before a shift like that. as much as something might look the same, it never is.

“but i can tell you that in a month, there is a restaurant opening. i have four tickets, i would like for you to take one.” kara blinks at her. lena doesn’t smile but she does soften, a little. “i can’t tell how this is going to go, which is freaking me out a little and in a week i’m sure i’m gong to do something drastic,” she says with an edge of warning.

“i’ll be ready,” kara promises.

“good. all i can really say is that i will still want you to be around in a months time.” kara feels herself light up at the words. they’re not 'i’m not leaving you’ or 'i’m not sending you away’ but they’re pretty damn close. “and i don’t know how i feel about this, i don’t know when I’ll figure it out, but i already miss my friend kara.” kara nods her agreement. she can feel a lena sized hole opening up inside her the longer lena speaks, making herself clear that there is going to be a distance, a time for them to figure this out. she’s sure it’ll be a good thing; she’s equally sure it’ll hurt like hell.

“tomorrow is too soon to hang out, right?” kara checks. “it’s just, alex is away and winn is busy and,” she holds up her hands, shakes her head. “no, nevermind, too soon.”

it grows a little awkward - lena thanks her for the brownies, declines when kara offers to fly her home.

but the next morning, kara opens her front door to lena’s driver, a box of cookies and a small pot of yellow flowers and a note with just a short message.

'our lives are filled with tomorrow’s. this one isn’t ours, but perhaps the next one will be. enjoy your day x’

kara tucks it between the photo frame on her bedside table and the lamp and brings the flower pot with her to the couch. she sets up her next season and pulls the pot into her lap, wraps an arm around it. she pats the pot fondly, sends a photo of herself with it to lena, and settles in.