#it takes 3 to five business days to answer anyone who isn’t considered a best friend or my girlfriend

[planecrashjesus]

Tarte answer your messages on time challenge

[barbarianprncess]

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” and “Nobody’s seen you in days.” that would be inchresting 👀👀

for mari my beloved, 

(aka @chironshorseass ) 

as you know this sort of got away from me. one second i was writing a drabble of angst, the next I'm on the 16th page with no end in sight. so this maybe isn’t what you were expecting but have 5k of post-botl/pre-tlo pining idiot besties who are in love :). 

(also this hasn’t been beta’d and i'm welcome to volunteers i just finished and got so excited i had to post.)

(dear one anon who asked for 'forget it you're a fucking asshole' too, if you're reading this, don't worry yours is coming too i promise)

(final s/o to @posallys for letting me scream about them)

24 hours

read on ao3

enjoy <3

                                                      ...

Percy is fucking exhasted.

He was supposed to be back at camp four days ago. The deal was he’d spend weekdays at camp to plan and train and weekends at home to relax. But, he kept putting it off, opting to keep the weight on his chest that’d been pushing him down since last summer bearable, and not crushing the way it always was at camp. So, when he gets through the barrier, aside from nodding hello to Beckendorph and Silena, he makes a beeline to his cabin. He manages to keep his eyes down until he’s standing at his porch steps- and that when he sees her.

Annabeth is pacing on his balcony. She’s wearing jean shorts and her camp shirt, but instead of her typical ponytail her hair is in two intricate braids that reach her breastbone. She’s muttering to herself and wringing her hands together and for a moment Percy forgets. He forgets the past year and all the arguing and the bitterness and he sees Annabeth is worried about something and he reaches out as if to hold her. To wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything is going to be alright.  

But then he remembers.

He retracts his hands.

He clears his throat and Annabeth startles. Her grey eyes are as intense as ever and he can almost see her defences come up. He hates that it's because of him. Annabeth is the first to break the silence.

“Hey.” Her voice is small but clear. Not yet vulnerable, but gives Percy the sense that it could be soon.

“What’re you doing here?” He isn’t sure he said it out loud until she ducks her head and flushes.

“Nobody’s seen you in days.” It’s not the accusation he expects. It's also not an answer to his question. Just an observation.

“I’m here now.” He says it like it’s an invitation. He then becomes incredibly aware that he's still looking up at her from the bottom of the steps, so he grabs his duffel, bounds up the stairs, and opens his cabin door. He hesitates and meets her eye with another silent question. She answers by stepping inside.

He drops his bag by his bed and turns on the light. The air is charged with unasked questions and unfinished conversations. He can’t stand it. He’s about to attempt small talk when she says something that nearly knocks down where he stands.

“I miss you.” She’s wringing her hands again and she won’t look him in the eye, but takes his silence as confusion.

“That’s what I came here to say, that I miss you.”

Percy isn’t sure what to say. Percy isn’t sure this conversation is really happening, she’s broken so many of the fragile rules they’d been following all year. He’s 98% sure this is a really vivid daydream to cope with…. well everything.

He decides that on the off chance this is real he should play it safe so, he states the obvious.

“I’m here. We’re here, together. We’re together and-” She cuts him off and begins to ramble.

“Strained and awkward and it's like there’s this chasm between us of all these things from last summer. From our kiss, to you dying, and then you not dying, and Rachel, and Luke, and Luke being Not-Luke, and it’s like we can’t have a conversation anymore and that sucks ‘cause..”

She pauses for the first time to look up at him and her eyes are shining.

“You’re kinda my best friend. And I miss you. Everything sucks and I'm tired of fighting. And I really miss you.”

Percy’s too shocked to say anything. It occurs to him that he should respond but he can’t find the words. All the unspoken rules they had in place and Annabeth had just steamrolled right through them. Percy realizes his mistake in staying silent as Annabeth flushes and turns to leave.

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” And oh no Annabeth had just swallowed her pride (which he knows better than anyone is no easy feat) to say everything he’d wanted to hear and he can’t let her walk away.

“I miss you too.” The words tumble out of him, clunky and a little awkward but earnest. Annabeth stops and faces him, eyes suspicious in the way that breaks his heart a little bit.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Annabeth exhales and shoots him a tremulous smile he hasn’t seen in forever, and oh he’d forgotten what it did to his chest when she did. Before he does something stupid like tell her he thinks her smile is the best this he’s ever seen, he clears his throat.

“So…. this chasm you said, what do you propose we do about it?”

“24 hours. For 24 hours everything that I listed before is a non-issue. After that we can go back to…..whatever it is we’re doing now. One day, where we’re just two friends spending a day at camp together..”

“Best friends.” He corrects without thinking. She rolls her eyes, and he almost giggles because he’d missed her eyerolls too.

She holds out her hand to shake, all business-like and gods he missed her.

“Best friends. 24 hours.”

He takes her hand. Her shake is firm, her palms are warm, her eyes are bright, and she is beautiful.

“Where do we start?”

...

Apparently it starts with homework.

After he asked where they’d begin, Annabeth had flashed him a wicked grin, damn-near dragged him off the porch, and made a beeline to the Big House. Before last summer, Annabeth had been “tutoring” him. Once a week they’d head down to the Big House and spend hours combing through myths and legends, practicing Ancient Greek, and all things Demigod 101. It probably wasn’t ever that useful considering Percy barely remembered any of it, but Annabeth had always insisted. After last summer they’d non-verbally decided to take a break from it (eachother), and they’d never started back up.

Usually he’d halfheartedly complain that it was pointless and say some form of ‘I know enough to not die and that's good enough for me’ every five minutes, but today he nods dutifully along as Annabeth talks animatedly about Orpheus, and Theseus, and all the other -eus’s. He’ll ask a dumb question that they both know he knows the answer to, but she answers him anyway. He watches the wisps of hair that refused to be tied down, and counts the tiny sunspots across her nose and the way she wrinkles her eyebrow when she forgets a name.

It’s not terrible. It’s kinda the opposite. He’d forgotten that she made studying not terrible.

He’s so screwed.

...

The stables are almost empty when they get there.

After 2 hours of studying, (one hour of studying, one hour of laughing and talking and calling it studying) Annabeth declared it was his turn to pick the activity. Tired of sitting still Percy lands on tending to the pegasi. It was one of his favorite things about camp plus he got to teach Annabeth something for once. Annabeth was comfortable enough around them but she never spent anytime with them that she didn’t have to.

When they entered the barn, Blackjack gave him a look and he blushed remembering all the times he’d come to the stables with Beckendorph to vent about how much he missed Annabeth, (He didn’t even know horses could give looks but here we are) and silently told him it was a long story and to be cool. Annabeth had stopped next to one of the cleaning stations and was looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and they got to work. He showed her how to brush them and how to get tangles out of their manes, where to scritch them and where not to scratch them. He showed her how to check their feathers and make sure their wings were healthy and how to get them to be still enough to check.

Annabeth was excellent with them, gentle hands and kind eyes. Whenever she approached one she would look them in the eye and talk to them like the intelligent creatures they were. Each time she got started taking care of a new steed she’d gently reach for the muzzle and say in a soothing voice:

“Hi, my name is Annabeth and I'm going to groom you today. Don’t worry, I'm friends with Percy, and he taught me exactly how to take care of you. If I’m doing something wrong, let him know and he’ll tell me how to fix it. I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you feel like a brand new pegasus.”

Frankly, it was fucking adorable.

Pork-pie had taken a special liking to Annabeth, telepathically asking Percy if she could groom him more often. When he told this to Annabeth she’d beamed and enthusiastically agreed to come down whenever she could. Percy had off-handedly suggested that they take them out for a bit and Annabeth immediately started to release Pork-Pie from his stall.

They flew over camp for what could’ve been minutes or hours. He was lucky that Blackjack could fly himself because Percy couldn’t take his eyes off his flying partner. Her braids held firm, but a few rebellious curls were now whipping with the wind. The atmosphere combined with the speed they were flying, made her cheeks red and splotchy. Her smile is brighter than the sun, and eyes- gods her eyes were going to be the death of him. The sun and her mood (he had this theory that her eyes changed color based on her emotions) had made them almost blue, they are full of laughter, and Percy adores her. And when she directs her sunshine-smile at him, Percy can’t help but smile back.

(He doesn’t stop smiling until they land.)

...

As they're putting their pegusi back in their stalls, Blackjack decides to give him some advice.

“I know I don’t understand all of your fragile human emotions, but I know enough. There’s a lot of bad in this world of ours, and from what you’ve told me about this war business it's only gonna get worse. You gotta make the most of the good.”  He tilts his head over to Annabeth who is cooing at a preening Pork-Pie.

“You and ladyboss, you’re good together. And really nothing else matters.”

He doesn’t have time to even think about a response when Annabeth is walking over from Pork-Pie’s stall, and telling him it's time for a picnic.

...

(“What did Blackjack say to you? You looked kinda flustered when I got you.” Percy almost drops the plate he’s piling with food from the buffet. He’s gotten three pointedly confused looks at the sight of him and Annabeth together and not strangling each other and a thumbs-up from Grover. He and Annabeth are getting their food and then they’ll go sit by the beach.

“Oh,” He clears his throat and goes with the first thing he thinks of. “Blackjack calls you ladyboss.” Good that's good, not technically a lie either.

“Huh. Weird.” Annabeth, seemingly satisfied with this, returns her attention to the grapes she is adding to her plate.)

...

“Where do you go?” Annabeth asks. She’s sitting next to him in the sand brushing crumbs off her fingers. They had been eating and watching the ocean in comfortable silence and Percy furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Lots of days when you’re at camp for lunch and sometimes dinner you just disappear for hours. And I know you aren’t going home because your stuff is still in your cabin. Where do you go?”

It’s not an accusation, just a question. Percy gets the feeling she doesn’t want to know so she can disturb, she just worries. Percy knows her. He knows she’s always planning for the worst and she needs to be able to get to him if there's an emergency.

(It strikes him that she notices when he disappears and he feels guilty but also just a little hopeful. Because she misses him as much as he misses her.)

He stacks their plates and rests them on the blanket they’d been sharing. Percy stands up and holds out his hand, gesturing for Annabeth to do the same.

“C’mon, I’ll show you.”

...

He tells her to close her eyes. She gives him a skeptical look but obliges and holds out her hands, a silent request for him to guide her. It’s almost easier to take her hands in his without those trademark eyes on him. But it’s not any less intense. As soon as their fingers interlock sparks of electricity lick up his arm. Now that her eyes are closed he can look at her face up close without fear. Her curls had gotten more unruly as the day went on, and the ringlets that framed her face blew lightly in the ocean breeze. He leads her slowly towards the ocean, using his powers to dry any spot she walks on. He sees her brows furrow when she notices how far they’ve walked towards the ocean without their feet getting wet, but she doesn’t say anything. He parts the water for her to walk through, and when the water rises above their heads, he forms an air bubble that moves with them, keeping them dry. When they get to a good spot, squeezes her hand signaling for her to stop with him, but tells her to keep her eyes closed. Then he closes his eyes with her and calls out to the ocean's creatures, making himself a beacon.

Here I am, he thinks. The son of Poseidon.

Come to me.

Minutes pass.

“You can open your eyes now.” He whispers.

She does, and lets out a soft gasp, “Oh, Percy.”

He smiles and looks out at the scene before them. He’d come down here after a particularly bad day and just wanted to sit in silence. It was an accident, calling the creatures to him. Subconsciously, he must have sent a message along that he was feeling alone. And all sorts of sea creatures - from greek monsters and to great white sharks to your average cod had flocked to him. And he didn’t feel so alone. So now, whenever he couldn’t take the human world, he’d come down here and talk to the fish.

This time he’d actually concentrated on getting a message out and they did not disappoint. He couldn’t count all the animals that had heeded his call but it was a sight to behold. He had willed some glowing coral from the deeper ocean to stay in that spot, which created a multicolored tint to everything around them.

Normally they come right up close to him, but this time they were hesitant. And as he listened to the creatures and heard more than a few whispers of Athena and stranger, he’s suddenly reminded that she’s the only person he’s ever done this with. It’s his favorite place, and she is the only other person ever to see it.

“It's okay guys, she’s a friend.” He reassures them. When he looked back at Annabeth, her mouth was still hung open and she was staring out at the scene in front of them in wonder. He smiles at her dazed silence and uses the hand he’s still holding to tug her up to the barrier of the bubble. The first creature willing to accept Annabeth is a baby spotted dolphin. He swims towards the clumsily with eager fins and pokes at the barrier with it’s snout. Annabeth's eyes widen in fear and look up at him and it takes a second to realize she isn’t afraid of the animal, but of their bubble popping.

“Don’t worry, the bubble won’t break unless I break it myself, and it’ll last however long I want it to.” He reassures her. He senses her hesitation so he guides her hand up to meet the snout of the baby dolphin who seems fascinated with Annabeth herself. He reaches his snout and head bumps directly into the spot on the bubble where her palm is placed.

Annabeth lets out a laugh, the kind of laugh that sort of bubbles out of you without warning and it’s the best thing Percy’s ever heard. He watches as the shock fades for her features and she pets the infant creature through the sheen of bubble keeping them dry. The animals begin to warm up to Annabeth as well, and as soon as they figure out she’s not some evil Athena agent sent to destroy the ocean, they join in on the fun. Hundreds of ocean creatures of all sizes begin doing tricks, nuzzling up to the flexible barrier, all vying for Annabeth’s attention. Annabeth herself is happy to oblige. Ever consistent, she introduces herself to each creature she meets. She smiles and laughs and reaches out to all the animals she can. Percy is happy simply to watch her and keep the bubble up but then she turns to him, eyebrow drawn together in concern, pointing to a particularly awnry seahorse, and asks what it's saying.

“He says his name is Frank and that he’s ‘too pregnant for this shit.’”

Annabeth stares blankly.

“His words not mine.” Percy offers hands up in surrender.

Then she snorts and then they’re laughing, they’re laughing harder than they have in years, and it's that kind of hysterical laugh where everything around them makes it more funny, and soon Percy’s clutching his stomach and Annabeth is beet red.  As soon as it subsides enough to get words out Annabeth is shaking his arm saying “Do that one! What's he saying? Oh my gods what even is that? Does that one like me? That ones majestic, what's his name? Oh Percy, look!! Look at that one!”

So he translates and they laugh and he teaches her different species and Annabeth nods along like it’s very important stuff. She pets the baby dolphin through the bubble and listens intently to all the animals telling her stories, even though she can’t understand a word until Percy tells her what they said. And when it’s time to go he sees the tears in her eyes and tells Percy to promise the baby that she’ll visit all the time, even though they both know she can’t.

(Apparently the baby dolphins name is Arnold, and according to his mother, he was so enthralled by Annabeth because when he first saw her he thought she was an angel.)

(Percy thinks he’s not too far off.)

...

(“That was incredible Percy. Thank you so much for sharing that with me.” They had been walking in silence as they made their way back to camp using the bubble, enjoying the afterglow of their adventure.

“Yeah, of course.” She smiles at him and looks ahead.

He’s not sure why he does it but without looking at her he reaches out and ever so carefully, and brushes her fingertips with his.

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t say anything.

Then suddenly, miraculously, her hand tilts and their fingers are interlocked.

And there's no pretense of guiding her somewhere, they’re just….holding hands.

And it's perfect.)

...

Percy thinks if he’s not in love with her, he’s pretty damn close.

Because this feeling, the one he gets in his chest when he looks at her, is what love feels like.  

...

When they resurface, they’re met with twinkling lights and the last three stragglers singing softly at the campfire. It’s almost time for lights out.

Oh.

Oh no.

Annabeth seems to be coming to the same realization, as she clears her throat and lets go of his hand. He misses her fingers immediately.

“So, I guess we should start heading to bed.” She looks at him, hopeful but he’s stuck. Stuck in the feeling of dread at the idea of waking up tomorrow and not having his best friend. Suddenly the idea of leaving her side is so unbearable he can’t speak.

“Goodnight, Percy.” She’s turning around and backing away when the words lodged in his throat come unstuck.

“8 in the morning.” She turns giving him a ‘what are you on about’ look.

“That when you came and got me at 8 in the morning. We agreed on 24 hours. It's only been 12.”

She smiles slow and wide, “You know you're right, that math checks out.”

“We had very clear terms. We even shook on it.”

“Yes we did.”, she nods gravely. “It’s a binding agreement, we can’t just ignore it.”

“So what do we do?”

She flashes a wicked grin. “You aren’t the only one with a secret spot.”

...

Percy arrives in the Big House 20 minutes after curfew was called, exactly as Annabeth had instructed. He felt her presence before she re-materialized in front of him and in a low conspiratorial whisper tells him to follow her.

They sneak down to the basement and Percy is confused when she keeps walking towards the corner. She lifts up a floorboard and starts climbing down a ladder. She beckons him to join her and when he makes it down the ladder, he can’t help the smile that breaks out. It’s a sort of underground attic, complete with a worn dusty couch, blankets and an old TV.

“I found it my first year at camp by accident. I was down doing chores and one of the broom strings got caught under it. I didn’t have many friends except for….” She lets him fill in the blank rather than say the name out loud. “And when he wanted to be with kids his own age, I’d come here. There's only five movies down here and I memorized them.” She looks down at her shoes. “I know it’s not the sea floor but..”

“Are you kidding? It’s awesome. What are the movies?”

They dig around and end up finding two more that apparently seven-year-old Annabeth did not think worth the time. They watch Die Hard first, (“Oh my Gods I can't believe you haven’t watched Die Hard. This is a travesty. It’s a classic Annabeth.”) then Pulp Fiction, ("I can’t believe it, all the shit you gave me for not seeing Die Hard, and you haven’t Pulp Fiction?? You absolute heathen!") and Clueless. ("What? It has to be full of violence and toxic masculinity to be good? It’s a good movie Percy, shut-up.") Before he knows it, it’s 3:54 am shaking with hysterical silent laugher at Annabeth's impression of Dionysus.

“Oh my gods oh-OH! Do you know what we’ve got to do?”

“Uh-oh, what?”

She grins impishly and a little deliriously. “We’ve gotta go to our spot.”

“Ah, of course. Yes, our spot, totally.” He says in a voice he hopes is neutral, in an effort to gage if she’s serious.  

“Oh my gods.” She gasps, offended.

“What.”  

“I can’t believe this.”

“You can’t believe what?”

“You forgot our spot.”

“I’m sorry Annabeth, until four seconds ago I wasn’t aware we had a spot.”

“Oh my gods. I can not believe this-” He can tell she’s messing with him, and not actually mad.

“Annabeth, just tell me where it is.”

“I simply can not believe this, you absolute heathen-”

“Stop calling me a heathen, and tell me where it is.”

She smiles, “I can show you.”

...

“Oh, of course! This is our spot!”

Annabeth chuckles, “I told you.” They’re standing at the edge of the forest at the tallest of the rock clusters to the far left. It's the one they used to go to after their first quest, the place where Annabeth taught him the constellations. The place where he made his first real friend. Not people he hung out with to avoid getting picked on. Not a searcher who happened to like the demigod he found.  His first real best-friend.

They climbed up easily and lay down looking straight up at the sky. Annabeth points up at the floating memorials, and Percy dutifully recites the legends of how they earned their place in the sky. They're shoulder to shoulder and their fingers graze each other for longer than necessary. And slowly they lull into comfortable silence, arms overlapping, at some point Annabeth's head lands on his shoulder. Percy freezes for a while, staying absolutely still as if she’s a wild creature who could bolt at any moment. But then he relaxes, and she relaxes and he’s pretty sure she’s asleep until she takes in a shaky breath and whispers, “Hey, Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna be okay right?” He can tell she's trying to mask the vulnerability in her voice. And he can’t see all of her face from the angle they’re laying, but her nose is on his collarbone, and her hair is tickling his chin.

He closes his eyes, and he thinks. He thinks about Luke and Rachel and how nothings been the same since Percy blew up that mountain.

He thinks about seeing her for the first time, grey eyes wide hair falling off her shoulders and how even after everything he just went through, he felt safe. He thinks about ‘you drool when you sleep’, and the way she looked at him when he was claimed- awestruck and pitiful at the same time. He thinks about rolled eyes, stamped feet, and frustration always just under the surface. He thinks about silent truces, and letting guards down, and shared oreos in the back of a mobile zoo. He thinks about sweaty palms gripping each other in the Underworld, and shaky hands giving him a good luck camp necklace. He thinks about camp fires, stupid jokes, learning about the stars, and how the just fit.

He thinks about postcards and iris-messages, and how she punched Matt Sloane square on the nose. He thinks about how despite the arguing and the confusion about Tyson, she was always there when she needed him. How she didn’t hesitate to sneak out of camp with one of the first species he ever learned to truly fear, because he asked her to. He thinks about her in a dress and how tongue-tied him in guinea pig form. He thinks about her broken sobs and how she clutched at him in their underwater bubble. He thinks about winning a chariot race, the softest of cheek kisses and how in this world of gods and monsters, she’s the only thing he was really sure about.

He thinks about how she was the first girl he ever danced with, and how light everything felt when she was around. He thinks about how it felt strangely familiar when she fell off that cliff, and how only days later realized that it was the same desperation he had when Hades took his mother. He thinks about how gutted it was when he found out she was thinking about joining the Hunters. He thinks about his visit from Aphrodite and how even though she changed form, her hair smelled like lemons the entire time. He thinks about when he saw her on that cliff it was like the sun came out. How he saw her face and it was smudged with dirt and cuts but she was alive and he could breathe again. He thinks about how his throat closed up when he thought Artemis was going to pick her for the Hunt. He remembers how when they danced on Olympus, for a song she was prettier than Aphrodite.

He thinks about planning a movie date, and how he discovered Annabeth doesn’t get any less pretty when she’s mad at him. How she sat right next to him at dinner and how when she fixed his armour, his neck burned wherever she touched him. He thinks about falling in a whole and holding her hand and how they’d done it before but it felt different that time. He thinks about ping pong table meetings and how he became aware of the fact that he’d follow her anywhere. He thinks about the determination in her when she faced the Sphinx, and how the same fire was in them right before she kissed him. He thinks about how she tasted like smoke and salt, and how for the 3.2 seconds that his lips were hers, the first thing he thought was ‘we fit like this too’. He thought he was going to die but it was okay. It was okay that he was going to die, because he had gotten to kiss her. He thinks about Calypso’s Island, and how he dreamt about her every night. How when he crashed his funeral, she held like she couldn’t bear to let go and how that was fine with him. He thinks about the blur that was the labyrinth, full of unshed tears, words that cut, and how despite all the scream fights and the terror, and the barely contained rage, none of it lessened the fierce protectiveness he feels for her. How despite it all, she's still the best thing that's ever fucking happened to him. He thinks about the last line of her prophecy, and how she thought it was about him.

He loves her.

He’s not sure if he’s in love with her because he’s 15 and he hasn’t exactly had time to date around but he knows that for a fact. Knowing Annabeth, loving Annabeth has made him who he is. She is burned into his DNA. Somehow the 12 year old with princess curls and eyes that cut, crawled under his skin. He knows he’s done the same to her, even though they’re both too stubborn to say it out loud. They could never really leave each other, even if they tried.

So Percy shifts so he can see her face in the pale moonlight, brushes a curl out of her face and says,

“Yeah. It’s us Annabeth. We’re gonna be alright.”

She smiles soft and real because she knows him, so she knows he means it. He’s not sure who reaches out this time, but they're holding hands and staring at the sky in a silence that speaks volumes.

They stay like that until it’s sunrise and they have to sneak into their respective cabins. Looking at stars, fighting sleep, and forgetting about the rest of the world.

______________

(They hold hands all the way back to her cabin.)

(He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way back to his own.)

______________

if your still here hi! thank you for reading. send in prompts from this list, or any sentence starter you want to read. ask box is open for those and if you just wanna say hi :)

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (2)

(So there are Journal Entries that are supposed to go with these fics, but I’ll admit they’re not as details haha. It’s up to you if you wanna read them or not, but please enjoy this chapter either way!)

Ch.1 / Ch.3

Chapter 2: Looming Support

Marinette bustled down the last few steps to the bakery and made a mad dash for the door. She should arrive at Rosemary right on time- for once in her life -but Felix was supposed to be meeting her there since they shared their first class together, and his demeanor gave her the impression that he preferred to get to class early instead of right on time. 

“Oh- don’t forget you’re croissants for lunch!” Sabine called after her, causing Marinette to screech to a halt.

“Right, right, thanks Maman.” She replied hastily, nearly yanking the paper bag from Sabine’s hands.

“Careful with those! They’re fresh!” Sabine warned. 

Marinette only nodded, as it was the only thing she had time to do, and ripped open the bakery door. The school was now five blocks away instead of two, but if she started running-

“Marinette!”

All thoughts of Felix and Rosemary flooded from her mind when the chipper voice of Adrien Agreste reached her ears. 

She glanced up to see her former classmate- and former crush, for that matter -stepping out of his silver car. Her first instinct was to run, but her feet refused to move, as if they were rooted to the spot from sheer panic. Why was he here? No, nevermind. She knew why he was here. The look on his face gave it all away. That easy smile paired with those stupid, pitying eyes was a look she’d seen a thousand times before. He always wore that expression when he was about to give her another lecture on why she needed to be the bigger person and let Lila figure out the error of her ways on her own.

“Marinette, I’m so glad I caught you! I tried to visit yesterday, but Mme Sabine said you weren’t home.” 

Marinette held back a smile, knowing full well that she’d been home all evening yesterday. Her mother was such a saint.

The humor didn’t last long, though, because Adrien continued, “I wanted to talk to you about your transfer? When did you decide to change schools? You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Involuntarily, she started shifting from foot to foot. Aside from the fact that merely looking at Adrien made her immensely uncomfortable, school would be starting soon. The last thing she wanted to do was cause Felix to be late if he decided to wait for her. “A-Adrien, I really need to go.” 

His smile wavered. “Maybe I can give you a ride? I really think we should talk.”

Finally regaining command over her own two feet, Marinette shuffled a step back. “No, t-that’s alright. I don’t want to trouble you.”

Adrien stepped forward. “It’s no trouble-”

“ThanksbutIreallyhavetogonowbye-” The quick farewell shot from her lips as she tore off down the sidewalk, giving him no room to argue. She knew Adrien all too well, and she knew that he would keep her there all day if it meant persuading her into his vehicle- or anywhere private -for them to “talk”. 

Marinette turned left and right, winding through the streets and back alleyways of Paris. It wasn’t the ideal detour, but she wanted to be absolutely certain that he didn't follow her. If Adrien was willing to show up at her house, she doubted that he would hesitate to show up at her school too. 

So she ran, ignoring the burning in her legs and desperately praying that Felix wouldn’t glare at her too much for the inconvenience.

~~~~~~

Time: eight thirty-two in the morning, exactly two minutes after classes were supposed to start. 

Felix never considered being late a problem so long as it wasn’t a regular occurrence. The tardy marks that assaulted his otherwise perfect attendance, however, were a bit of a nuisance. If it had been anyone other than Marinette, he would have left as soon as the class bell resonated within these borderline cavernous halls. 

A pair of footsteps developed in the distance, faint at first. He didn’t bother turning his head until the sound grew into a loud tapping on the pavement, but what he saw surprised him. Marinette, the very girl he was waiting for, was sprinting towards him. If that wasn’t enough, she ran right past him and into the school! Granted, she spouted something in his direction as she passed, but he certainly didn’t catch it. 

Felix, despite being thoroughly confused, followed her inside, where she was now bent over and gasping for air. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry for- for being late.” She panted, briefly glancing up as she did. He noted that her gaze was focused more on the windows than him, though.

“It happens.” He murmured, curiosity prompting him to look out the windows as well. A few cars passed, but nothing out of the ordinary. What was she looking for?

“You’re not mad?” She huffed, flicking her eyes to the window again and taking a step to the right. Was she trying to hide from something? 

Felix frowned. “No, but we should get to class. Getting detention on your first day isn’t the best first impression.” 

Marinette nodded, drawing in one last breath and straightening. “Okay.. History’s first, right?” 

“Correct. They’ve already started, though, so we’ll need to be discrete.” 

She pulled a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s only the first class of the day. Once the next class starts, our schedules will right themselves, and our lateness will be forgotten.” 

-

And it was. By the time Felix met up with the others for lunch a few hours later, Marinette was bright and cheery and not nearly as distressed as she had been that morning. He idly wondered what could have caused so much panic for her, but it wasn’t his business to ask. They’d only known each for a day, after all. If she wanted to tell him about her problems, she would.

“Ready to go, Mari?” Allegra asked, looping her arm with Marinette’s. “The restaurant is a bit far so I’m gonna have you ride with me, if you don’t mind.”

“We’re going to a restaurant?” 

“Yeah, where else would we go?” Claude replied.

A soft “oh” passed Marinette’s lips, and she looked down at the small, pink package in her hands. “I, um.. I thought we were just going to eat at the park or something, so I brought my own lunch.”

“That’s alright!” Allegra smiled. “We’ll just go to a cafe instead. I know this outdoor one a few minutes from here that has the most splendid pastries.”

“Are you sure-”

“Of course we’re sure.” Allegra insisted, waving off Marinette’s concerns as they walked outside. “This lunch is for you, after all.”

Her bluebell eyes blew wide at the information. “For me?”

“It’s our way of celebrating a new member of the group.” Allan casually explained.

“Felix didn’t get a lunch since we already have to drag him by the ankles to everything else we do.” Claude added with a smirk.

Felix rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t disagree. They really did jump through a lot of hoops to hang out with him. Why the trio went through so much trouble, he’ll never know.

Marinette, however, giggled at the knowledge and stole a glance in his direction.

Feeling as if he should acknowledge her look, he leaned towards her and murmured, “You can still run. The ‘initiation lunch’ hasn’t started yet.”

She put a hand over her mouth to stifle her increased laughter. “I think I’ll take my chances.” 

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Suit yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

-

Fifteen minutes later, they were all climbing out of their respective cars- Marinette hopping out with Allegra -and deciding which table to steal for the half hour they had left. Claude jumped to a circular table near the edge of the street because it “had more sun”. Since no one else had a specific preference, they followed along behind him.

“We try to make it a point to have lunch together whenever we can.” Allegra said to Marinette as they sat down. “Usually, we get to have one at least once a week.”

“Felix always tries to escape, but struggle is futile when Allegra is involved.” Claude whispered to the ravenette. The fact that he had to lean all the way across the table to do so, however, caused everyone to hear it anyway.

Allegra pulled a cheeky smile, not even denying the comment. She knew how ruthless she could be when she wanted something, and it was a trait that she held in high esteem.

Marinette, once again, fell into a small fit of giggles. Felix found that he rather enjoyed hearing her laugh, which was surprising. People who laughed at every other word in a conversation usually irritated him. They were either looking for his approval or just had dreadful, snorty laughs in general. Not hers, though. Something about Marinette’s laugh reminded him of tinkling bells or pure sunshine. It almost made him want to laugh along with her. 

“How long have you all been friends?” Marinette asked curiously, resting her elbows on the table and her chin on the back of her folded hands. 

Allegra was the first to answer. “Claude, Allan, and I have been friends since childhood, but Felix was roped into joining us a little over two years ago.”

A waitress came by to take their orders for drinks and food, but after she left, Marinette continued the conversation.

“It’s cool that you all have stayed such good friends over the years. At my other school, I somehow got put in the same class of people for six years straight, but..” She trailed off, her smile fading slightly. 

“But what?” Felix prompted, ignoring the surprised look the others gave him. 

If someone had told him yesterday that he’d be asking a random girl about her troubles, he would have said they were ridiculous, or better yet, not responded at all. When it came down to it, Felix wasn’t a sensitive or compassionate person. 

And yet, here he was, asking Marinette to continue addressing her woes- and they were woes. No one looked that depressed when thinking about cherished memories. -for a simple life story. Felix wanted to know what made her tick, how she became the person she was today. He couldn’t do that with the scarce information that he currently possessed. If she was close to telling them something important, why waste the opportunity?

Marinette’s eyes met his, also holding a bit of shock.

“But..” She repeated, casting her gaze downwards and lowering her hands. “I guess being childhood friends wasn’t enough to keep us from drifting apart.”

The table fell silent. 

Even as the waitress came back with their drinks, even though Claude- who usually never shut up -was sitting right there, the table fell silent. It was one of those moments, Felix supposed, that had to be silent, to reflect on the grief that hung so heavily in Marinette’s words.

Finally, Allan put his hand on hers. “We’re here for you.” 

The statement was soft, but strong and filled with sincerity. Allegra and Claude reached forward and grabbed her hand as well, showing their shared support.

Marinette put her free hand on top of theirs, her eyes glistening with tears, but her smile warm and grateful. “Thank you.”

Although Felix didn’t partake in the handholding, he offered her a meaningful look. “I told you: once the ‘initiation lunch’ is started, you’re stuck here.” 

A choked laugh came from her, and she wiped away a single, stray tear. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

~~~~~~

Marinette popped the last bite of her meal into her mouth and started balling up the wrappers and dirtied napkins to put them back in her lunchbox so she could throw them away later. She’d decided to wait until the others got their meals from the cafe before eating her prepared lunch, which resulted in a time crunch that required her to somewhat scarf down her food. Marinette didn’t mind it, though. Allegra moved their entire lunch date to another location in an effort to accommodate her. The least she could do was wait an extra ten or twenty minutes before eating. 

“What is that heavenly smell?” Claude asked, going so far as to stand from his seat slightly.

Marinette, who had just taken out her mother’s croissants, smiled. “Maman packed me fresh croissants from our bakery this morning.” 

“You have a bakery??” Claude asked next, rising further from his seat.

Allegra swatted at his arm. “Claude, behave yourself. We’re in public.”

The brunette sat down immediately, but his eyes remained on Marinette. Or rather, the paper bag she was holding. 

Marinette giggled. “Yes, about five blocks from Rosemary.” She then opened the bag and fished out a croissant. “Would you like to try one?”

“Absolutely!” Claude said, almost urgently, as he shot out of his seat to grab the offered food.

“Claude!” Allegra hissed.

Instantly, he sat down again, reminding Marinette of a hyperactive, yet well-trained puppy. She couldn’t help grinning at the sight.

“They’re chocolate flavored.” Marinette informed as she handed it to him. “We also have a cheese-filled one, but I don’t have any of those today.”

Claude didn’t hesitate to take a bite of the croissant, and she watched with an amused smile as his entire being seemed to melt into the chair. 

“Is it really that good?” Allegra inquired, reaching up to take a piece.

Claude jerked away, clutching the croissant to his chest as if it were a priceless heirloom. “No! She gave it to me!”

Allegra lips pressed into a thin, impatient line. “I just want one little piece.”

He shook his head. “Get your own croissant.” 

“Claude-”

Before she could argue any further, Claude shoved the entire croissant into his mouth. 

“Claude!” Allegra cried, both annoyed and concerned at the same time.

“I have more!” Marinette rushed to say, not wanting the conflict to worsen. Thankfully, the two turned back to her. 

“Maman packed a few extras since she knew that I was eating with you guys.” She explained, taking out another croissant.

Allan put a hand to his heart jokingly. “Aw~, you talk about us?”

A light blush dusted her cheeks, and she handed Allegra the croissant. “Well, you four are definitely a memorable group.”

“We wouldn’t be fun if we weren’t.” Claude winked, taking another croissant himself. It was actually Marinette’s croissant, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. His giddiness as he bit into the breaded treat was too good to ruin. Besides, she could always snag another one when she got home.

Allan hummed with pleasure next to her. “How did you make them so fluffy?”

“Maybe you guys can come over sometime to find out.” Marinette suggested with a smile. They’d taken her to lunch, so it seemed only fitting to invite them to her house as thanks.

Claude immediately brightened. “Can we really?”

She giggled. “I don’t see why not. I’m sure Maman and Papa would even teach you how to make the croissants yourselves if you’re nice enough.”

“Girl, you just say the word. I will be the epitome of nice.”

A round of laughter spread amongst the group. As if Claude could be anything but chaotic for more than a few minutes.

“We would love to come over.” Allegra said, still holding a wry smile from Claude’s comment.

Marinette beamed. “Great! I’ll see when Maman has a free day.”

A beeping sound cut into the conversation, and Felix glanced down at his watch. “Time’s up. We need to get back to the school for our next class.”

“You have a timer?” Marinette asked, purely curious, as they all started getting up.

“Felix always has a timer.” Claude interjected.

Felix sent him a glare. “It’s a practical thing to do. If I didn’t set a timer, we would all be expelled by now for being late to class too often.”

“He has a point.” Allegra allowed, pulling her purse onto her shoulder.

Claude shot her a betrayed look. “Don’t side with him!” 

Allegra merely shrugged in response. “We’ll see you guys back at school.” 

“We?” 

Allegra made a small gesture between herself and Marinette. “We’re riding together, remember?”

Claude straightened. “Hey, that’s not fair! You got to ride with her on the way here.”

Allegra rose a brow. “Your point?”

Claude flailed his arms, as if it were obvious. “So it’s my turn to drive her.”

“Your turn?” Allegra scoffed. “She’s a human being, not some object to be thrown around!”

“Says the person who gets to drive her.” Claude retorted. 

Allegra narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Why don’t we let Marinette decide who she rides with?”

An involuntary squeak escaped Marinette’s lips as the two turned to her. 

“Oh, um, well-”

Felix’s sigh cut her off. “Enough. I’ll drive her.” 

Claude’s jaw dropped open.

Allegra blinked. 

Marinette just stared at him, vaguely aware of Allan smirking approvingly next to her.

“If that’s alright with you.” Felix added, breaking their stunned silence.

“O-Oh! Uh, yes. That’s fine.” Marinette replied unthinkingly. 

He nodded. “Good. Let’s get going then.”

Marinette shuffled along behind him, sparing a quick glance to Claude and Allegra. They were still staring, though Allegra now had enough sense about her to clench her jaw from displeasure. 

She managed to give them both an apologetic look before Felix led her around the corner to where his car was parked. 

He helped her in, then got in himself and ordered the driver to take them back to school. 

~~~~~~

Felix stared out the car window as he tapped his index finger against his thigh. They were alone now. Just him and Marinette. This situation provided a million opportunities. He could ask her more questions about her old school, or her home life, or how she was enjoying the school so far. If she assumed that he was prodding, she might clam up, though. So he should probably choose one subject for the time being. Which question was most important? Which would give him the most information?

His finger started tapping faster in thought. Her old school seemed to be a touchy subject. That would be shut down quickly. She’s also extended an invitation to her house. Any questions he asked about that would be answered eventually anyway. That left her opinion of Rosemary Highschool, but that hardly reflected much of her personal life.

Felix checked his watch. They would be at the school in roughly five minutes, and there was no telling when they’d be alone again, what with Claude and Allegra running about. He had to ask something.

He stole a glance in her direction. Marinette was staring out the window as well, quietly twiddling her thumbs. He found that it was something she did often- fiddling, that is. It must be a coping mechanism for her anxiety. She practically couldn’t sit still during their first class after the mysterious scare she’d had that.. morning..

Felix cleared his throat. He knew what he wanted to ask her now. 

“Can I ask you something?” He began, hoping she wouldn’t be as annoyed by this as he himself would be.  

Marinette startled, whirling around to face him. “Sorry?”

“I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Oh.” She said, relaxing a bit. “Okay.”

Felix drew in a small breath. So far so good. “This morning, you ran into the school and avoided the windows for the first class period. I don’t mean to pry, but were you running from something?”

Panic flashed across her features, and her hands trailed up to mess with the tips of her jacket. “It’s.. it’s nothing, really... I guess you could say I didn’t leave my old school on good terms.”

Felix blinked. That’s an interesting reply. What did the relations of her old school have to do with her running from something? (Nevermind the fact that Marinette leaving anyone on ‘bad terms’ was shocking. She didn’t seem like the type to make enemies easily.)

“..Is someone stalking you?” He asked, somewhat thinking aloud. The way she ran into the school didn’t strike him as someone who was casually hiding from an awkward situation. If she left her school on bad terms, perhaps someone was trying to corner her for revenge?

She shook her head frantically. “No, no, no! Well.. technically yes, but ‘stalking’ is a strong word. He-”

He?

“-just wants to ‘talk’.” Her expression soured at the last word, and Felix wondered what sort of things one must talk about to have her on the brink of scowling. 

“You know we don’t mind picking you up.” He offered. It’s not his policy to involve himself in personal disputes, but Allegra would have his head if he didn’t suggest some sort of support. Plus, more car rides would provide more opportunities for him to ask questions. “If you’re worried about being followed, Allegra and Claude will probably fight tooth and nail to drive you to school too.”

Marinette shook her head again. “I really appreciate it, but that’s not necessary.”

Felix watched her for a moment, not missing the way her hands started fiddling a bit more in her lap. “Well, if you ever change your mind..”

“You’ll be the first to know.” She promised with a smile. It looked a bit forced in his opinion, but he nodded nonetheless. 

Felix supposed he should feel wary towards the new student. She hadn’t mentioned why she left her old school, though she admitted she had unnamed squabbles there. That can be considered innocent, but it can also be a skillful way to avoid consequences. As far as he knew, she could be running from her victims who decided to rally against her. 

And yet, he couldn’t help being filled with this sense of morbid curiosity. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a fashionista who appears to have a big heart and a troubled past. She lives in a bakery, yet managed to attend one of the most prestigious schools in the city- possibly the country. She’s riddled with nervousness, but every step she takes tells you that she knows exactly what she’s doing. 

Who exactly is Marinette Dupain-Cheng?

Felix couldn’t wait to find out.

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks

[heyitssmiller]

Frosted Windowpanes Part Two

I have no idea why this was so hard to write? Part one just came so easily and this... not so much. But here it is! All the holiday tropes! Christmas puns (thank you to all of y’all who gave me ideas for those)! Falling in love!

As always, @donttouchmycarrots is my hero for proofreading!! Love you <3

@lumosinlove Guess who’s back to borrow your characters ;) Thank you so much!!

Part One if you missed it!

.

Finn had a Plan.

Well, half a Plan.

Maybe.

Step one: meet up with Logan and Leo again. Step two: woo them. Step three: …

Well, it wasn’t much. And it was very vague. But Finn’s plans tended to never go the way he wanted them to anyway, so vague was usually for the best. And so far, it had been going well. They’d grabbed dinner several times, ran into each other at the store or buying Christmas presents downtown. And on Monday the diner was closed, so Finn and Leo spent hours at the farm helping where they could and pestering Logan. He was so fun to tease – he got all gruff and grumpy and adorable. Leo seemed to think so, too, if the number of times he teamed up with Finn to make Logan get all red was anything to go off of.

At the beginning of all this, Finn had thought he’d been overdramatic. He’d woken up the morning after first meeting Logan and Leo and assumed he’d been tired and jet-lagged and was imagining all those feelings he’d felt the night before.

And then he’d met up with them again.

Love at first sight wasn’t real. Finn knew this. But being here, meeting Logan and Leo, just might have been enough to change his mind. It made no sense, but – well, here he was. The past few days were happy, rose-tinted, and Finn couldn’t believe his luck. What were the odds that he’d find both of them in this sleepy little town?

So here he was, pulling into the parking lot of Leo’s for a cup of coffee and a healthy serving of sweet southern blond.

Leo was out front, shoveling snow and looking absolutely miserable while doing it. He was bundled in a thick coat and hat, scarf wrapped high around his neck. Finn laughed under his breath as he turned his car off and braved the cold. Poor southern boy. Leo glanced up at him briefly when he approached, then did a double take.

“Morning, sunshine.” Finn said with a cheeky grin. “Enjoying the snow day?”

Leo’s resulting grumpy look made Finn laugh. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Nate called and said he can’t make it to work today because the roads are so bad.” Leo took a deep breath, and then the rest of his words came out in a jumbled, rushed mess. “Which isn’t his fault and I’m not blaming him at all. But I haven’t started cooking and we open in thirty minutes and there’s no coffee brewing and nowhere for people to park because of this goddamn snow and so I’m stuck shoveling snow instead of cooking and I’m so far behind-”

Finn gently pressed a finger to Leo’s lips, halting the nervous ramblings. Leo looked down at his finger, then back up to meet Finn’s eyes.

Oh, he was so gorgeous.

Finn had to force himself to focus on the matter at hand instead of cherry-red lips and soft baby blues. “Relax, ok? And hand me the shovel. I’ll do this, while you get on inside and start cooking.”

“But – Finn,” Leo said, and wow did he love the sound of his voice in that southern twang.

“Leo,” He echoed with an attempted accent, eliciting a smile from the blond.

“I can’t just ask you to work. You’re on vacation.”

“First of all, you didn’t ask – I offered. And the friends I’m visiting are both at work,” Finn explained, “so I’ve been left to my own devices for the day.”

Leo winced in sympathy. “Bless your heart.”

And see, Finn had done his research. He’d googled New Orleans, the state of Louisiana, and the south in general. And he’d learned that southerners were very confusing – more confusing than people gave them credit for. They were polite and kind to everyone, even if they definitely didn’t mean it. The phrase “bless your heart” could mean they either absolutely adored you or they thought you were the worst person on the planet.

Finn really hoped it wasn’t the latter. He didn’t think it was the latter, anyways.

“I’m literally dying of boredom. I’ll shovel the snow, and then I can come help you cook!” At Leo’s skeptical look, Finn brought out the big guns: his puppy dog eyes. They were known to melt even the hardest of hearts. He’d learned this lesson in college when asking his Grinch of an Ethics professor for some extra credit. “Please?”

Leo hesitated, but Finn could see the exact moment he caved. “Alright. But you’re getting paid.”

“Absolutely not. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

“I’ll pay you in food and coffee.”

“Deal.” Finn said, grabbing the shovel from Leo’s mittened hands. “Like I could ever say no to your food.”

Leo’ smile, warm and a little bashful, probably could’ve thawed the snow on the pavement if it was directed that way. “What would you like: sweet or savory?”

“Sweet,” Finn said instantly, even though he really preferred savory. His one-track mind was still stuck on dimples. “But I take my coffee black.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Finn watched him go, knowing that he had the dopiest smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day. And he knew a way to make it even better.

Finn dialed the number for Tremblay’s Trees, hoping more than anything that Logan would be the one to pick up. But of course he wasn’t that lucky. A bright, cheery voice answered the phone - definitely not Logan. “Tremblay’s Trees!0 This is Thomas, how can I help you?”

“Uh,” Finn said articulately, “Hi, I’d like to talk to Logan. Is he there?”

There was a slight pause, then: “Maybe. Who’s asking? And how do you know our dear Lolo?” The voice sounded curious, if not a little mischievous. Before Finn could answer, though, there was a scuffling over the line.

“Talker, give me the phone.”

“Oh, come on, I’ve got the five o’clock news slot tonight. Give the people what they want, Logan! Who’s your mystery caller?”

“I swear to god-”

The scuffling sound got louder, then there was a loud clatter when Finn assumed the phone hit the ground. He jerked his own phone away from his ear with a wince. “I am very confused.” He stated, not sure if anyone else heard him.

There was a small, softer rustle, then a breathless voice asked, “Hello?”

Finn couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Lolo.”

That laugh was just as wonderful over the phone as it was in person. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Mmm… I might need to be convinced.” Finn said, letting some flirtiness slip through. “Anyways, I’ve got an idea. You busy today?”

“I’ve got the morning off. Why, what did you have in mind?”

So Finn, with the phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, told the story of this morning as he shoveled – Nate not being able to make it to his shift, the ice and snow in Leo’s parking lot, Leo being behind on cooking and acting anxious. “So I was thinking we could do something? Like a surprise? And I know you guys need to actually sell things and make a living and stuff but I was thinking about decorating the diner? He just works so hard and he’s so stressed and I feel like he could use a little holiday cheer. What do you think?”

The other voice from earlier must have shouted, because he was loud enough to hear over the phone. “Phone guy! What the hell did you say to make him melt like that?”

Logan punched Talker in the shoulder. Hard. “I will lock you in the closet, Talker. Shut. Up.” His attention was brought back to the phone by Finn’s laugh and his demeanor softened again. He’d never met someone as chaotically considerate as Finn O’Hara. It was such a sweet, thoughtful idea. And it was something to help out Leo? How could Logan say no?

“Sounds like a plan.” Logan said, cradling the phone closer to his ear. “Most people already have their decorations so we don’t have a whole lot left, but I’ll see what I can find.”

“Perfect! Oh this is going to be so fun – fuck, I’ve gotta go. Customers just showed up. But I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Great. Ok see you soon bye!” The words reached Logan in a rush before the line went dead.

What a dork.

Logan was pretty sure he was half in love with him.

“So…” Talker said suddenly, making Logan spin around quickly. “Who are you pining over?”

Noelle, who had been passing by on her way to the kitchen, backpedaled in order to join the conversation. “Are we talking about Logan’s love life? Because I’m so here for that.”

Logan sighed and went to the coat rack by the door, grabbing his coat, toque, and scarf. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

They both promptly ignored him. Talker grinned at his fiancée, sensing trouble he could get into. “He’s become such a sap.”

Noelle snuggled up to Talker, turning her teasing gaze to her brother. “But if it’s who I’m thinking of, they have such good chemis-tree.”

“Did you guys practice this or something?”

“Hey man, don’t be so defensive.” Talker said, voice turning serious. “You know we’re all rooting for you.”

“I hate you both so much.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Lolo.” Noelle sighed, giving him an over-the-top hug and obnoxious kisses to his cheek. “We’re just having some fun. Do you want us to stop needling you?”

“I’m having fun fir sure!” Talker shouted, then burst into raucous laughter, which stopped as abruptly as it started. “Wait. That wasn’t Leo on the phone. You've got eyes for someone other than him, now? Branching out a little, are we?"

“No.” Logan said instantly, then winced. Because his feelings for Leo definitely hadn’t changed. But then there was Finn… “Maybe. It’s complicated, ok?”

“The redhead that was hanging out with you and Leo on Monday?”

Logan felt his cheeks heat up but didn’t say anything. Monday had been the best, though. Showing the two of them the farm and how he did his job and watching their noses and cheeks turn adorable shades of pink from the cold. Even though he’d been there for a year, Leo still seemed in awe of all the snow. He clearly hated it, but Logan could tell he still found wonder and beauty in a clean blanket of undisturbed, freshly-fallen snow. Finn, even though he was clearly freezing too, kept cracking jokes the entire time, his voice muffled by his scarf. They’d walked and talked and learned more about each other among the saplings that would be full-grown and ready to be cut down by next season.

Yeah, Monday had been a great day.

And Logan was so screwed.

“Birch, please.” Noelle teased, then softened. “But really, Logan. Both of them were just as interested in you as they were in each other. You’ve got nothing to worry about, you just need to talk to them.”

He looked up from the buttons of his coat. “You think so?”

“Only one way to find out. What are you doing with them today?”

“We’re decorating the diner.” Logan pulled his hat on and looked over at his sister. “Do you think dad’ll be ok with me taking some garland and a wreath?”

Noelle scoffed. “With all the coffee and pastries you boy’s given us, I think he’s more than paid for it. Do you want company?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” Talker said, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’d make the perfect wingmen.”

“You did enough while I was on the phone, thanks.” Logan said, grabbing the keys from the counter. “Ok I’m headed out. See you later.”

Talker and Noelle sent a chorus of boos after him, only stopping when the door closed firmly behind him. He huffed out a laugh, shook his head, and headed towards the display counter to grab decorations. They were a little old since it was so close to Christmas day, but they’d have to do. Logan hesitated for a split second, then grabbed the Santa hat as well. They’d get a kick out of that. He threw the decorations in the back of the truck and took off down the road.

.

They actually worked really well together – Leo and Finn, that is. Finn dealt with customers while Leo made the food. They had a complex, intricate dance around the close quarters of the diner but they seemed to know the footwork already and could predict exactly what the other needed without blinking an eye. Leo peered out the kitchen window at Finn as he took orders at another table, laughing at something one of the women said. He was good at this. He was naturally outgoing and good with people, but he was also efficient and seemed to be able to keep track of twenty different things at once.

Leo frowned thoughtfully down at the grits on the stove. Logically, he shouldn’t like Finn. The redhead had appeared like a whirlwind and thrown everything off course. But then he went out of his way to be helpful and sweet and thoughtful even though it didn’t benefit him in any way. He had a big heart with a lot of love to give. And he gave it willingly to everyone, it seemed.

Don’t get him wrong, that was a good thing – it was a great thing. But it also made the past few days incredibly confusing. Was Finn treating Leo like everyone else, or did he want something more?

He definitely wanted something more with Logan, though. That much was obvious.

Leo just wasn’t sure how he fit into all of this.

Finn barging into the kitchen snapped Leo out of his thoughts. He looked up as Finn started looking around for something on the counters and shelves, tongue poking out in concentration. Leo couldn’t help but smile at the little detail.

“What are you looking for?” He asked, stepping away from the stove.

“The, um…” Finn said, trailing off as he continued to search, clearly distracted. “The spicy maple sauce for the chicken and waffles.”

“In the fridge.” Leo stated plainly, maneuvering around Finn to grab flour from the pantry, brushing against his back as he did so and trying to ignore how the simple touch heightened his awareness of the redhead. Finn threw open the fridge door, scanning the shelves.

“Where?”

“Second shelf from the bottom, on the right.”

A few seconds of silence, then: “Where?”

Leo laughed, dumping a cup of flour into a bowl and heading to the fridge. He peered over Finn’s shoulder, then reached around him with one long arm to grab the bowl of sauce. “Right in front of you, sweetheart.” He teased. Finn turned around so that he was facing Leo, a look that Leo had seen a lot in the past few days but still couldn’t identify on his face.

“Yeah,” was all he said, soft and a little strangled.

Leo looked away from those deep, brown eyes and down at the sauce. His heartrate picked up significantly. “Have you tried this yet?” At Finn’s shake of his head, Leo grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer. “Figured I’d combine my roots with where I ended up, y’know? Tabasco, black pepper, maple syrup, and a few more secret ingredients.” He said with a wink, spooning some out and holding it out to Finn. “I’m pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself. Try it.”

Instead of grabbing the spoon from Leo, Finn just leaned forwards and tasted the sauce straight from the spoon in Leo’s hand. Leo’s breath hitched and his stomach swooped as Finn straightened again and met his eyes.

Oh, he could stare into those eyes forever. Eyes the same color of the coffee Finn had slid through the kitchen window about an hour ago with the words, “figured you could use some” before dashing off to clear another table. Leo had turned beet red, but grabbed the coffee and held it close before taking a sip.

Leo also hadn’t realized how close they were. The diner was small and the kitchen was cramped, but they definitely didn’t need to be standing this close. Not that Leo was complaining.

“Is it hot in here?” Finn murmured, gaze flitting from Leo’s eyes down to his lips and back again.

Leo seemed a little lost, too, leaning closer to the redhead without even realizing he was doing it. “Must be the sauce.”

It definitely wasn’t just the sauce.

The chime that alerted them to the front door opening startled both of them, forcing them to jerk away from each other and blush furiously.

“I, uh, I’m going to go check on that.” Finn said, still not looking away from Leo as he backed up.

“Ok.” Leo whispered, reaching back to grab the island behind him in an attempt to steady himself. Finn reluctantly tore his eyes away and disappeared from sight, leaving Leo reeling in the kitchen as he entered the dining area.

Finn’s mind was still back in the kitchen, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t been forced to step away. He’d never wanted to kiss someone senseless quite as much as he did right then. And how was he supposed to keep it together when all he wanted to do was flip the diner sign from open to closed and get Logan here and finally talk to them. They’d felt this pull - this magnetism - too. He knew they did. The only thing left to do was finally talk about it. 

Finn was forced to snap back to the present when the counter was suddenly covered in green needles, red berries, and festive ribbons. He looked up to see Logan grinning at him. Under his coat he was wearing red plaid, which matched the Santa hat perched on his head.

How was it possible to want two people so much at the same time? He couldn’t breathe with all the emotions overflowing in his chest.

“Ho ho ho,” Logan attempted to say, but cracked up before he could finish. Finn grinned and laughed as well, stepping forward to greet him.

“You should’ve used the chimney.” Finn joked, tugging on the end of his hat playfully. He got a smile and sparkling green eyes in return. Finn bit back a dreamy sigh. “But really, thank you. Leo’s gonna love this.”

Logan’s face grew a little worried. “How is he?”

Ha.

Haha.

That was a good question, since Finn left him standing there in the kitchen with the spoon still in his hand, looking a little lost.

He ended up shrugging, glancing back at the kitchen door longingly. “Better now. Still seems tired.”

“We’re going to have to force him to take breaks, aren’t we.” It wasn’t a question.

“Probably. If we tag team, I think we can manage to make it happen.” Finn looked down at the decorations. “So where are we putting these?”

Logan looked around the dining area, giving Finn a perfect view of his profile. He longed to kiss that strong jawline so badly, holy shit. “We could hang some over the kitchen window and some around the front window. And the wreath can go on the door.” Finn followed Logan as he maneuvered his way around tables to the front window, eyeing it critically. “The frame is wide enough that it should stay up on its own, so we won’t need nails or anything.” He grabbed the garland from the counter and then turned back around. Finn looked from him to the tall crown molding around the window.

“Need a ladder?”

“No.”

Finn laughed, grabbing one end of the garland and stretching up to place it on the ledge. Once it was secure, he looked over his shoulder at Logan and stuck his hand out for the other end. Logan hesitated, clearly wanting to do it himself, but quickly admitted defeat and handed it over. He huffed at Finn’s smug smile.

“Shut up.”

Finn laughed as he hung the garland. Logan was so small and grumpy and cute. Finn wanted to bundle him up in his arms and never let go. His little pocket-sized lumberjack. How adorable. He was so different from Leo, in basically every way. And yet Finn still wanted them both. How the hell did that work? 

“I should probably check on the customers.” Finn said reluctantly, glancing around at the breakfast crowd. “Do you think you can manage the kitchen window?”

“I got it.” Logan grumbled, sizing up his next target. Finn just shook his head fondly and started making his rounds to the occupied tables. Logan grabbed the remaining garland and headed behind the counter. He couldn’t help but stick his head through the window and look around. It was several degrees warmer in the kitchen than it was in the dining area. Logan was surprised at how tidy it was, considering how hectic the morning had been. There were a few scattered dishes in the sink, but the counters were mostly clean and organized, each bowl seemed to have a designated location. Leo, focused with his head down, maneuvered between stations with an effortless grace as he breaded a chicken tender and threw it into a frier. Logan never thought he’d be so entranced by something as simple as cooking but here he was, watching Leo hum along to the Christmas music on the radio as he poured batter into a waffle iron. He grabbed a mug of coffee off to the side and looked up as he took a sip, jumping when he saw Logan.

“Logan! Hey, honey!” He smiled, like seeing Logan was the highlight of his day. Logan yearned at the sight of that smile. He seemed to be doing a whole lot of yearning lately. “When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. Brought you something.”

Leo arched an eyebrow. “That sounds a little ominous.”

“No,” Logan laughed. “No, it’s a good thing.” He held up the garland and wiggled it around a little, causing it to sway in the air.

Leo’s entire face lit up. “Christmas decorations?”

“It was Finn’s idea.” Logan said, looking back over his shoulder at the redhead. Leo visibly softened, smile gentle and eyes warm.

“He sure is sweet, isn’t he?”

You just need to talk to them, Noelle’s voice echoed in Logan’s head. Looking at Leo right then, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right.

.

“Sure is snowing hard out there, eh?” Logan asked several hours later as he looked out the window. It was a strange lull in the day – too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. They were all grateful for the break. Logan honestly wasn’t sure how Leo did this every day – it was exhausting.

Finn, who was sitting on the other side of the booth from Logan and Leo with his legs stretched out, pulled up the weather app on his phone. “It’s only supposed to get worse. They’re calling for a blizzard.”

Leo looked out at the snow worriedly. “I really don’t wanna drive home in all that.”

“Might need to close up early, then. No one’s going to be out in this weather, anyways.” Logan said, watching Leo bite his lip as he thought about it. “I could drive you, if you want.”

Leo looked over at him, relief clear in his eyes. “Would you?” He rushed to continue, “I don’t wanna inconvenience you or anything, and I know you need to get home too-”

“Leo,” Logan cut in with a smile. If Leo didn’t know Logan would do pretty much anything for him at this point, he was clearly oblivious. “I don’t mind, I promise.”

Leo seemed to accept it without further argument and looked over at Finn. “Do you wanna tag along? I was thinking about making cookies.”

“Well that depends.” Finn said with mock gravitas, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the table. “What kind of cookies are we talking?”

Leo matched his pose, mischief alight in his eyes. “I was thinking snickerdoodles, but I’d be willing to reconsider.”

“Sneak in some sugar cookies we can decorate and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Leo and Finn shook on it, keeping it professional.

Logan was infatuated with the two of them.

“So you’re closing early?” He asked, excited at the prospect of spending the rest of the day with them. At Leo’s nod, he nearly sighed with relief. “Good. You need a break.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. “Maybe I do.”

Finn grinned. “He finally admits it!”

“Ok, ok, I get it.” Leo sighed, shoving Logan’s shoulder repeatedly until he got out of the booth. Leo followed after him. “I’ve got to put stuff away in the kitchen and then I’ll be done.”

Logan and Finn shared a look before trailing after him. They worked together to clean up, put food away, and organize the receipts and cash register for the day. It went much faster with three people. Before they knew it, all three of them were piling into Logan’s pickup truck, bundled up against the cold and brushing freshly-fallen snowflakes off of their coats and out of their hair. Logan pulled out onto the road, driving while Leo gave directions from the passenger’s seat.

Leo’s house was nice – small, but it looked warm and well-loved. There was a snowman out front, complete with a scarf and carrot nose.

“Cute.” Finn said as they got out of the truck, walking up to the snowman. Leo smiled, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“My friend’s little brother made that over the weekend.” He unlocked the front door and ushered everyone inside as he held the door for them. Leo’s house was all cool tones – soft blue and purples and greens. There was a tree in the corner of the living room by the window, all lit up and decorated. There were presents under the tree, wrapped in brown paper with ribbons and bows.

Leo hung his coat on the coat rack and took Logan’s and Finn’s from them. “So. Cookies?”

“Nope,” Logan said, grabbing Leo by the hand and tugging him towards the living room. “Rest first, then cookies.” Leo laughed, reaching behind him to find Finn’s arm and pulling him along with them.

“I won’t say no to a Christmas movie.” He agreed as they all collapsed onto the couch. Finn grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and threw it over the three of them while Leo grabbed the TV remote.

Logan moved closer under the pretense of getting under more of the blanket. He was now pressed up against Leo, butterflies in his stomach. “My vote is for Die Hard.”

Finn scoffed, throwing his legs over Leo’s and Logan’s thighs. “That doesn’t count as a Christmas movie.”

“I beg your pardon-”

“Is it about Christmas? No. Case closed.”

Logan leaned forward to look around Leo at the redhead. “It takes place during Christmas!”

Leo just listened amusedly to the bickering as he flicked through movie titles. They were still arguing when he started the cute, old Claymation Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Both boys trailed off as the introduction music started.

“This works.” Finn said, settling in to get more comfortable, his calves flexing against Logan’s thighs as he stretched. Logan hummed in agreement, eyes already glued on the screen.

They hadn’t even met Hermey the elf before Leo was sound asleep, head pillowed on Finn’s shoulder and breathing slow and even. Finn looked over blond curls at Logan and smiled, making his heart thud painfully in his chest. He needed to talk to them, and soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there and keep all these feelings internalized.

But it could wait until after a nap. He snuggled up close and turned back to the TV.

.

“No, you need to-” Leo stopped and laughed, pointing to the recipe. “Teaspoon of vanilla extract, darlin’, not tablespoon.”

Finn switched out one measuring spoon for another with a wince. “That would’ve been bad, huh?”

“Very bad.” Leo agreed, looking over at the oven to see Logan already staring back at them, a wide, almost-giddy smile on his face as he started loading cookie dough balls onto a baking tray. One tray of snickerdoodles were already in the oven and spreading out rapidly as they cooked.

“We might’ve put those too close to each other,” Logan said, crouching down to look into the oven. “They’re all starting to stick together. It’s just one big, square cookie.”

“That’s ok. It’ll still taste good.” Leo said with a shrug. They both turned when Finn started banging on the table in time to the music.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas! There is just one thing I need!” He screamed, bopping along to the song. Logan laughed and let himself be tugged forwards to dance. Leo watched as they both jumped around and danced in the kitchen, hips swaying and acting like total dorks. But they were so happy, as well. Big smiles graced their faces as they laughed and sang and held each other close. Leo whisked wet ingredients together in a bowl and leaned back against the counter as he enjoyed the over-the-top show. They were cute together in the warm glow of the kitchen – a sharp contrast to the snow falling outside and collecting on the windowsill. Finn tilted his head back to shriek the last high note, causing Logan and Leo to both burst into fits of laughter.

“O’Hara, please don’t audition for Broadway.” Logan teased, still laughing a little. Finn scowled and grabbed a tea towel, spinning it up before whipping it at the brunet.

This started an all-out war. Many a cookie lost their life in the crossfire when Logan accidentally hit Leo’s arm as he was transferring cooled cookies into a tin. They had a warrior’s send-off as they were dumped into the trash can.

After the cookies were baked and decorated and the kitchen was cleaned thoroughly, it was pitch black outside. Leo had genuinely lost track of time, but he was selfishly grateful for it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for y’all to be driving in this weather in the dark.” He said, snagging a cookie from one of the plates and taking a bite as he tried to be casual about the two boys potentially staying the night. “I’ve got a guest bedroom and a pull-out couch if you wanna stay here.”

Finn and Logan looked at each other, then Logan shrugged. “If that’s ok with you.”

Ok? It was wonderful.

“Of course it is. I’ll go make up the beds and get y’all something to sleep in, ok?” Leo said before hurrying to his room, where he hastily made his bed and rummaged through his dresser for clothes. He muttered to himself as he pulled out two pairs of sweatpants. “Don’t make a big deal of this, Nutty. They’re just spending the night. That’s it.”

His mind fast-forwarded to imagine sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. They’d talk and laugh and just maybe share some coffee-flavored kisses.

Leo sighed, pressing his forehead against the edge of his dresser. “I’m screwed, ain’t I?”

.

Logan woke up to a gentle hand prodding his shoulder. He breathed in sharply as he remembered where he was and blinked his eyes open to be met with worried blue ones. “Leo?” He asked as he sat up, voice raspy with lack of use. “What’s wrong?”

He was greeted with an absolute onslaught of words. “There’s so much snow outside. Like, so much snow. I’ve never seen this much snow before. And I didn’t think it would be this bad so I don’t have any milk or bread or eggs in the house and I doubt I can get to the store. How long do you think the roads will be out? And what about the diner? Is snow damage a thing? Do I need to go check-”

Logan laughed softly, falling back against the pillows and covering his eyes with his forearm. “What – milk, eggs, and bread?”

“It’s a southern thing.” Logan couldn’t see him, but he could hear the pout in his voice. His vision was suddenly filled with blond bed-head and wide baby blues as Leo pulled his arm away from his face. If he could wake up to this every day, Logan would die a happy man. “Come on, sweetheart, I’m really freaking out right now.”

One of these days, the terms of endearment were actually going to kill him.

“I’m sure the diner’s fine. Besides, there’s not much we can do until the roads clear, so we’ll just have to wait it out.” Logan shifted over on the bed, leaving a Leo-sized spot open. He tugged on Leo’s arm until he crawled into bed, laying on his side to face Logan, their feet tangled together. Leo was wearing fuzzy socks.

Logan smiled at the sight in front of him, then closed his eyes again. “Go back to sleep, Leo. We’ll deal with it when-”

The door banged open to reveal Finn, face bright with excitement. “Snow! Have you guys seen all the snow? We should-” He stopped when he saw the two boys in bed, nestled together and still sleepy. He cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to-”

“Cuddle.” Leo said, reaching up for Finn as well. “We should cuddle.” Finn smiled warmly and didn’t hesitate to clamber into bed on Logan’s other side, scooting in close and only elbowing Logan once as he got comfy. Logan grumbled, but quickly got over it when he felt a tentative arm wrap around him as he drifted back off to sleep.

.

Leo woke up to two boys asleep in bed with him and couldn’t think of a time when he was happier. They were all tangled together in a mess of limbs and blankets and pillows. It was warm and soft and Leo never wanted to leave. But he also wanted to surprise them with coffee and breakfast. Breakfast in bed wouldn’t be too obvious would it? He thought back to the past twenty-four hours and decided that if this wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t sure what was. Now it was just a matter of taking that next step and actually talking about it. So who cared if it was too obvious or not?

Leo glanced at Logan and Finn one last time. There was just something about seeing the two of them in his clothes. Logan’s sweaterpaws were visible from where he was grabbing onto Finn’s arm in his sleep. Finn was close to the same size as Leo so the clothes actually fit him pretty well. His face was pressed into brown hair, arm tightening around Logan as he huffed out a breath. The sight did something to Leo’s heart. He smiled dopily before sneaking out of bed, his back popping as he stretched. Ok, game plan: coffee, breakfast, talk. He could do this.

He crept down the hall and into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as he could when getting a frying pan out and setting it on the stove. Next came the kettle for water to use in the French press, bacon, and ingredients to make homemade biscuits. Normally he would’ve done eggs, but they’d used all of them on the cookies yesterday.

The biscuits went into the oven and the bacon into the frying pan, sizzling away. So much for breakfast in bed. Leo knew the smell of food cooking would bring the other two out of the bedroom and, sure enough, he soon heard two pairs of footsteps headed towards him, one slightly muffled by too-long sweatpants hems dragging along the floor. He grabbed three mugs from the cabinet and sent a smile over his shoulder at the two boys.

Three cups of coffee: one black, one with cream only, and one with cream and sugar.

Leo pulled the biscuits out of the oven and quickly transferred them onto a plate, doing the same with the bacon before bringing both to the table.

“Leo, you’re an angel.” Finn said as he grabbed plates and silverware for the three of them. Logan hummed in agreement from in front of the fridge, where he was collecting butter and jams for the biscuits. They all joined each other at the kitchen table, still a little sleepy-eyed and half awake.

Leo, halfway through his first sip of coffee, passed Finn his mug of steaming black coffee, then Logan his own cup full of cream and sugar, just how he liked it. Logan looked down at it and sighed happily, “Love you, Nutter Butter.”

Finn’s head shot up. Leo choked on his coffee, cheeks heating up. Logan looked at them confusedly before he realized what he said and his face paled. “Shit.”

“You... you love me?” Leo asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s heart ached a little at the look on Leo’s face. God, he should’ve told him a long time ago. In response he just slowly nodded, hesitantly meeting wide eyes and hoping for the best.

Leo smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Honey, I’ve loved you for months.” He took a deep breath, as if gathering up his courage, then reached out to grab Finn’s hand. “And I think I’m falling for you, too. Judging from the way Logan stares at you when you’re not looking, he feels the same.” Leo looked from Finn to Logan hopefully. “Right?”

Finn squeezed Leo’s hand, finally daring to hope. Maybe he could actually have this. His heart thundered in his chest, so loud that Logan and Leo were bound to hear it. “And how does he stare at me when I’m not looking?”

Leo’s eyes flicked over to Logan with a smile. “Take a look for yourself.”

Finn’s breath hitched as he looked over into evergreen eyes, bright and gazing at him the same way Finn had caught him staring at Leo so many times before. He laughed a little in relief, tracing Logan’s cheekbone with gentle fingers.

“I was a little worried we were never going to have this conversation. And I know we’ve got a lot to figure out, but...” He trailed off, a little in awe. What were the odds of this? Everything seemed to fall perfectly into place, like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t some huge revelation, though. There were no grand romantic gestures, no race against time, no frantic outburst. It was calm and gentle like the sun rising outside, casting everything in light pastels and golds.

Logan just laughed softly, scooting his chair back with a loud scraping noise and standing up. “Stop just sitting there and come here, I’ve been wanting to kiss you two for forever.”

Finn scrambled up from his seat and all but threw himself at Logan, nearly bowling him over as he kissed him enthusiastically, arms wrapped tightly around Logan’s waist. Leo smiled as he watched them. He loved their dynamic – the bickering and teasing like they’d known each other for years, and yet the head-over-heels way they looked at each other and held each other and kissed each other. They were so comfortable together, not shying away from anything it seemed. Leo couldn’t wait to see how their relationship grew and evolved over time. He couldn’t wait to see how all three of them would grow together. He stood too and joined Logan and Finn, pressing kisses to their cheeks, their jaws, their necks – anywhere he could reach.

Finn broke the kiss to press his forehead against Logan’s, eyes closed and smile a mile wide. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you at that farm.” His eyes turned to Leo next. He reached up and cupped Leo’s face in his hands. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first bite of pie.”

“What, was the muffuletta not good enough for – mmph.” Leo’s teasing words got cut off by Finn’s lips on his. He sighed into the kiss, draping his arms over Finn’s freckled shoulders and angling his head to deepen the kiss. He could taste black coffee on Finn’s lips and had never loved the flavor more. There was another hand at his back, stroking over his spine. Logan. Leo leaned back into his hand before breaking away from Finn to look at Logan – the guy he’d been pining after for just shy of a year.

“How did I get so lucky?” He murmured, prompting Logan to lean up and kiss him, softly and heartbreakingly gentle. Leo kissed him with purpose, running his tongue against Logan’s bottom lip and causing his breath to hitch.

He thought back to his musings of the night before during his panic in his bedroom and laughed against Logan’s lips. The brunet made a questioning humming noise, so Leo leaned back just far enough to whisper, “Maybe I’m clairvoyant.”

Finn laughed, bewildered. “What?”

Leo just glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, smiled, and combed a finger through red tresses. Sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. Talking and laughing and sharing some coffee-flavored kisses. Those had been his thoughts last night. And here he was, suddenly getting all of those things.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Leo said, looking down at his two with overflowing fondness as he thought of the future and hoped that those musings would come true, too.

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (5/?)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

ao3 : beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

-/-

Emma likes seafood.

She likes seafood, but she mostly eats like a ten-year-old boy. Apparently, there’s a little place near her house called Granny’s where she devours grilled cheese and onion rings like arteries aren’t a thing. It makes him laugh when she tells him because she eats how he’s always dreamed of eating. The only time he ever gets the chance is when he’s with his nieces and they convince him to get them food Elsa and Liam never let them get.

She also likes 80’s music, has been working at the Blue Dog for over half a decade, prefers her kickboxing classes to cycling ones, and her favorite color is blue.

That last one was a bit of a throwaway question, but he asked it anyway. Then, of course, he made sure to let her know that his eyes were blue. He got an eye roll and a ‘shut up’ for that before she started rolling her hips again. It was damn distracting, but he didn’t stop laughing at how frustrated she was that he wasted his one personal question a day on that.

One personal question a day.

It’s childish, but he thinks it works. It keeps the line between them defined. He knows what this is, has done it enough times before to not be blind to it. They’re both visitors in each other’s lives. They have expiration dates, and when there’s an expiration date, there’s no harm in spending time together.

There’s no commitment, so there’s no hurt.

He’s not an expert on Emma Swan, no matter how much she fascinates him, but he gets the feeling she’s avoiding relationships just as much as he is. There is a past hurt there, a damned painful one, and if anyone gets that, it’s him.

But he doesn’t ask about that in his one question a day. He asks for her favorite color and food and if she’d rather hike uphill for 10 miles or swim for 20.

For the record, she’d rather hike because she could sit down and eat along the way.

“Would you look at that?” Emma says as she runs her hands under the water of the sink at the bar. “You, sitting at this bar, again.”

He slices his salmon with his knife and grins. “I tried that Granny’s place, but the food had too much grease. Met a rather charming waitress, though.”

“Let me guess. Red streak in her hair, boobs on full display, argued with the owner the entire time?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because that’s Ruby, my best friend.”

“Is she now?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“Is that your personal question of the day?”

“Nope,” he says, taking a bite of his food. “I’m saving that for a later time.”

“A later time,” Emma repeats, like she’s considering the words. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the bar. “What makes you think you’re going to be seeing me at a later time? This isn’t enough for you?”

He looks around them and leans closer to her. “Too many clothes.”

Emma laughs, legitimately, and that feels surprisingly good. “I’m literally in a tank top and shorts. That’s about as dressed down as you can get.”

“I was talking about myself, actually. There are too many clothes on me, but it’s nice to know you think so highly of yourself.”

That gets him another laugh and a shake of her head, and he likes that too. He may have no real inclination to become overly attached to her, but he can at least admit to himself that he enjoys her company.

“Shut up.” Someone calls Emma’s name from across the restaurant, and she holds her arm up, putting up one finger. “I get off at The Oaks at eleven. I’ll drop by your place if I’m not too tired.”

“Why the hell are you working there so much?”

“I like the money. And, Jones, that counts as your personal question of the day. I’ll see you later...maybe.”

She grins and winks before walking away, and he swears she puts a little extra sway in her hips. Killian shakes his head as he feels his own smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What a bloody woman,” he whispers to himself before spearing another piece of his salmon.

-/-

“Right there,” she moans. “Like, seriously, right there. Don’t fucking change anything.”

Kilian smiles against her, but he’s quick to return to what he was doing. Emma’s legs tighten over his shoulders, her hands yank at the sheets, and as much as he is throbbing right now, it’s bloody glorious to have her like this. The filter is gone, so too are the reservations, and he gets a bit of satisfaction knowing this is him doing this to her.

His only skills aren’t on the football pitch after all.

He is definitely a bastard for thinking that right now, but he’s never claimed to be otherwise.

“Fuck,” Emma huffs after she comes down from her high. Her legs shiver over his shoulder, thighs tightening so all the sounds fade for a moment, but then her legs fall and all sounds come back in screaming color. “What did I do to deserve that so early in the morning?”

“It’s ten, love.”

“Yeah, that’s early on my day off.”

Killian laughs and kisses the inside of Emma’s thigh before making his way up her body, planting a final one underneath her collarbone before he collapses on his side of the bed and pulls the sheets above his waist.

“It’s not early for the rest of the world.” He smiles, which she doesn’t appreciate, and she sinks further into the bed, yanking the covers over her. He can still see her flushed cheeks and the slightest content smile on her face. “You should try it sometime. See the sunrise, dodge early morning joggers, eat breakfast at a normal time.”

“Trust me, I’m usually up early enough to want to drive into the early morning joggers while I have a Pop Tart hanging out of my mouth. My summer schedule is just...it’s different than usual.”

He has questions about that. It’s something she’s alluded to before, but he doesn’t know if she’ll count that as his question of a day.

He’s thirty-five years old, and he doesn’t know if he can ask the woman he’s sleeping with more than one question about her life. He knows he’s fucked up a lot, but this seems to be the culmination of several screw ups in his own life.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on that. Well, no, he has all the time in the world, but lately, the boredom has dissipated, the loneliness too.

Lately, he’s got a damn good distraction, and he’s not about to fuck that up.

Emma flips over on her side, her hair a wild, curly mess. She used his pool last night and didn’t wash her hair after. It’s made it even crazier than usual. He thinks he likes it. Makes her seem less reserved.

His phone rings on his bedside table, and he leans over to pick it up.

“Hello, darling.” Emma’s brow raises, but he ignores her. “How are you?”

“Good,” Elsa says. “We’re all good. The girls are in the garden right now, running around and getting all their energy out. I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

“I’ve been...busy.”

Emma’s hand finds his thigh, and his leg jumps before steadying. She is not about to do what he thinks she’s about to do. Bloody hell.

“Busy?” Elsa asks, as Emma’s hand walks a little closer to his groin. “Doing what? Have you made friends?”

“Why do you always ask me that like I’m a child?”

“Because you’re basically my baby brother.” Killian laughs and then hisses as Emma’s hand wraps around him. She smirks, obviously satisfied with herself, and he knows she’s doing it for the reaction above anything else.

Tease.

He doesn’t mind.

Except this is a poor idea.

“I believe I’m actually older than you.”

“Semantics.”

He laughs again, and Emma’s hand starts working a little more. Fuck. He needs her to stop, and even though she’s doing delicious things to him, she is looking away, acting as bored as can be. And maybe she is, but then he sees one corner of her mouth tick up.

“Mum, is that Killian?” he hears Ally ask, echoed by a squeal from Sophia, who is obviously having the time of her life. There’s a bit of a shuffle, some muted voices, and then his niece’s voice comes through. “When are you coming home?”

“Hello, Ally,” he says, his voice going high when Emma moves her thumb. “How is one of my favorite nieces doing?”

Emma immediately stops and yanks her hand away, practically falling off the bed. She catches herself and kicks up, moving the comforter up and nearly pulling it off him.

“What the actual fuck?” she whispers hisses, slapping him.

He ignores her as Ally asks again when he’s coming home.

“At the end of September, sweetheart,” he promises. “I’ll come home, and then I am going to kiss you right on the cheek.”

“Ew,” she complains, and he can imagine her nose scrunching.

“I also might give you a present.”

“I like that better.”

“Good. I thought you would.” he watches Emma get up and pull a t-shirt out of a drawer. It’s an old Man. United shirt, and he pretends that doesn’t do a damn thing to him, especially since she was just working him up a minute ago. “Listen, Ally, darling, will you hand the phone to your mum? I - ”

“Sophia, that is my hat! Do not wear it!”

And then the line goes dead, and he wonders how long it’ll be before Elsa gets back to her phone and calls him back.

“You let me do that to you while you were on the phone with your niece?” Emma mumbles, pulling the shirt down then pulling her hair into a mess of a knot on the top of her head. He’s not sure if she’s annoyed or amused. “I hate you.”

“Technically, at first it was my sister-in-law,” he corrects, tapping his head.

“That doesn’t make it any better.” Emma gets back in the bed, pulling the comforter all the way up to her chin, and then she shuffles a little further into the bed before sitting up against the headboard and groaning into her hands. “I am mortified.”

“I did stop you when Ally took the phone,” he points out before pulling at the arm of her shirt. “Nice shirt.”

Killian stands from the bed and walks toward his bathroom, grabbing his briefs along the way. “It’s comfortable,” Emma says. “Is this the team you played for?”

Killian stops, the tile cool against his feet, and then keeps moving, leaving the door cracked as he gets half dressed and starts brushing his teeth. As good as it was a few minutes ago, the mood is gone.

Especially now.

How the hell does she know he used to play football? And how long has she known that? Is that why...no, that couldn’t be why, but he knows that’s why a lot of women have.

“A long time ago,” he says, spitting out toothpaste. “I was with Chelsea when I retired.”

“Is that another team?”

“Uh, yeah,” he laughs, continuing to brush his teeth but sticking his head out of his bathroom door. “You didn’t know that?”

Emma shrugs as she types on her phone. “I don’t know anything about soccer. I only know you played because Ruby internet stalked you a few weeks ago and showed me your Instagram. I literally thought you were just one of those adults who is really into his hobbies.”

Killian nearly lets out a sigh, but he stops himself and turns back around to the sink to spit again before rinsing his brush. He looks up at the mirror. His hair is disheveled, there are lines around his eyes and on his forehead, and his stubble is growing to the point where a beard is beginning to form. He’ll shave later.

So Emma doesn’t know anything about football then. Or him, for that matter. He’s not sure he entirely believes her, that she didn’t look up any more about him, and he doesn’t like that uncertainty. Usually, when he meets someone, they have the upper hand and know the surface layer of all the dirty details of his life.

They usually don’t care to find out the real stories. Not that most of them redeem him in any way.

“Not a hobby,” he says, taming his hair with his hands. “It was a damn good job.” He leaves the bathroom and leans against the doorframe. “You ever play?”

She laughs and puts her phone down. “No.”

“Not even as a kid? Come on. I hear every lass in America plays as a kid.”

“Is that your question of the day?”

Damn. “No.” Killian walks toward the bed and puts his hands on either side of Emma’s head on the headboard, leaning in close. He sees her chest rise, and he smirks. “My question is to ask you to stay in bed with me all day. What do you say, Swan?”

She sits up, and her lips lightly brush against his mouth when she talks. “You should have asked me about the soccer because I was already planning on staying here the entire day.”

“Really now?”

“If we can get crepes delivered from this place that’s, like, ten minutes from here.”

Killian kisses her, long and slow until there’s heat simmering low in his belly. “As you wish.”

-/-

Emma doesn’t come over every night. Nor does he go to her place. But it seems that way as July rolls by, full of hot days that seem to linger forever. Killian finds himself busy during the days. Emma usually has work early in the mornings, so if she’s staying over, she leaves before eight. He doesn’t know how she has time to breathe working at both the Tavern and The Oaks, but she makes it work. When she leaves, he gets up and uses the gym in the basement of the house, going through his tried and true routines before he laces up his trainers and either runs on the beach or on the sidewalks through his little area of the vineyard. He finds the sidewalks are better for his knees, so he tends to stick with that and leaves walking on the beach for his afternoon phone calls with Elsa and the girls or Ariel and Eric.

It’s a routine, one that changes during the day, but for the first time since he got here, he doesn’t hate every damn day. He doesn’t spend his time actively having to try not drink or thinking about Liam or football. He practically buys out a local bookstore and goes through the novels faster than he has in years. He visits different restaurants, museums, goes along with some tourist activities he finds online, and he explores any shop that strikes his fancy.

And while his routine changes, there is one constant: he eats a meal at the Blue Dog Tavern.

At first, he thought Emma would kick him out for it, but now, she often comes and sits with him for a few minutes or sends him a drink from her office. He always sits in Ashley’s section and lets her talk about her growing belly even if he knows little about pregnancy, and he spends at least an hour eating and watching all the people around him.

It’s a hell of a lot better than the twenty-four-hour diners with sticky floors and bad coffee.

Killian shoves his keys in his pocket and pushes open the door to the Blue Dog. Marina greets him, telling him to seat himself anywhere in Ashely’s section, so he goes to his favorite booth and settles down. He can’t see the television from it, so it’s the perfect spot to completely escape from the world with no risk of his past showing up right before his eyes.

He may be feeling better, may be able to have a drink or too at night without wanting to have five more, but he knows he’s possibly only one bad day from it all coming undone, the thread unraveling faster than he can wind it back up.

“Tea or coffee today, Killian?” Ashley asks, notepad in hand.

“Tea, I think, but not the blasted stuff you gave me last time.”

She laughs and writes down his drink order. “Do you know what you want to eat already or should I come back?”

He hands her the menu. “The daily special and a side salad.”

“Perfect. I’ll be back with that as soon as possible.”

“No need to rush,” he says, smiling. “Is - ”

“She’s filling out orders for next week, but I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Ashley winks before walking away, and Killian wonders what the hell everyone in this restaurant thinks of him and Emma. It must be peculiar, but if he’s picked up anything from Emma, it’s that she likely doesn’t share much about her personal life with her employees. She surely won’t tell him that he’s the man she’s sleeping with for the summer, but they might pick up on that on their own.

The food here is good, but it’s not every day good.

He’s finished his salad and half of his sandwich when she comes out from the back. Today, she’s already in the black dress she wears to The Oaks, and her hair is pushed back into a ponytail. She looks exhausted, and unfortunately, the reason has nothing to do with him.

“I only have a second to say hi,” she says, sliding into the booth and grabbing a roll from the basket, breaking off a piece and popping it into her mouth. “We are having an issue with our fish orders, and it’s an absolute nightmare.”

“That sounds like I won’t be ordering any fish this week.”

Emma takes another bite of her bread. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Do you want to come to my place tonight? I’m off at ten.”

“Sure.” He picks at the bread on his sandwich. “Though, the last time I was at your place, that damn crab pillow ended up in the bed, and I didn’t appreciate that.”

Her nose scrunches with her laugh. “I hate that thing too, but Ariel loves it.”

“You live in that house the entire year. Why don’t you redecorate it for your taste?”

Her shoulders tense, and she stops chewing before slowly starting again. He already knows this is going to be his personal question of the day. Sometimes she forgets about it and lets the conversation flow freely, but when he hits a nerve, she’s more on her guard.

He gets it. He can be the same way.

“Personal question,” she says, and he knows her better than he should. “And I’ve redone my bedroom and little bits in the kitchen and living room, but I don’t know. I guess I keep it how the Fishers have it because it’s their home. There are memories there, and I don’t want to take any of those away for when I do eventually get another place. It’s....it’s good to have a family home with memories.”

Killian arches his brow, but Emma looks away, picking at the roll again. He never really had a family home, not after his mum died and his dad became obsessed with using Killian’s football skills for his own fortune, but he likes that sentiment.

A family home with memories. Good ones. That would be the dream.

“What about you?” she asks, changing the subject before he can press further. “Aren’t you excited to get back to your place where all the stuff is yours? You’re living in a place that’s not your own, so I’m sure you’re ready to get back to your family.”

She doesn’t mean anything by it, but her words cut. He’s here because he lost the one person in his family who he was closest to, but he doesn’t want to talk about that, not now. This is supposed to be a good time. It isn’t supposed to be about dark histories.

“I’m enjoying my time here,” he answers honestly. “There’s this woman who is an absolute spitfire, and she’s been occupying most of my time. I’ve been, well, metaphorically tied up in bed too much to think of returning home.”

“Ha, ha,” she monotones with a roll of her eyes. “That’s not what I - ”

“Hi!”

They both turn, and Emma’s friend Mary Margaret is standing there, bouncing back and forth on her toes. “Hi, Marg,” Emma says. “You’re early.��

“I know. I got finished tutoring early, so I thought I’d drop by. I didn’t know you’d have...other company.”

“Nice to see you again,” Killian says, nodding at Mary Margaret.

“Yeah, nice to see you.” Mary Margaret seems hesitant, like she didn’t meet him weeks ago at dinner, and he wonders just how much she knows about his arrangement with Emma. From what he’s learned, they seem close, but he also knows Ruby is Emma’s more...accepting friend. “How are you?”

“I’m good, love. Just badgering Emma at work. I’m surprised she hasn’t kicked me out yet.”

“Annoy me a little too much, and I will.” Her ankle hooks with his under the table, and Killian bites his lip to keep from smiling too much. “So, what’s up, Marg? Why’d you want to drop by? Have you heard of this thing called phones?”

Mary Margaret chuckles before sliding into the booth next to Emma. Emma’s ankle unhooks from his, and he tucks his feet under the booth. “So, you know how David wants to have that big barbecue for all of our friends and neighbors?”

“Yeah, you guys do it every year because you’re insane.”

“Anyway,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes, “we were wondering if we could get the Blue Dog to cater some of the sides. I know you guys don’t cater, but we could pay extra. Please.”

“You do know there are restaurants who do cater who could handle this?”

“Yes, but we love the food here. Killian gets it, right?”

“Uh, yes,” he mumbles, not sure what he’s supposed to say. From Emma’s death glare, he knows he’s chosen incorrectly. Bloody hell. “I love it.”

“Exactly,” Mary Margaret says. “We’ll pay extra. Promise. In tips so the staff can get it instead of the owners.”

Emma sighs and sinks into the booth, crossing her arms over her chest. “I need to know the order at least two weeks ahead of time, and it’s going to take me some time to figure out how much you guys need to pay.”

“Ahhhh, perfect!” Mary Margaret hugs Emma before sliding out of the booth. “You’re the best! I can’t wait to call David! Oh, and Killian, you should come too. It’s on August 14th. We’d love to have you there.”

Killian scratches his ear and nods, flashing her a tight smile. He doesn’t think Emma would welcome him at a party full of her friends, so he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable no matter how nice it might be to be in a large group of people.

“He’ll be there,” Emma says, surprising him, and he feels her toe tap his shin. “If he can make it, of course. You know, he has a very busy social calendar.”

“I wonder why that is, darling.” He winks, making Emma smile, and he taps his toes into hers right back. “I’ve heard you keep pretty busy as well.”

Emma’s mouth gapes before closing, and her green eyes widen, lashes nearly hitting against her brows. “Ass.”

“Well, I know you like - ”

“Okay.” Mary Margaret claps her hands together. “I’ve got to go. Emma, I’ll send you the menu after I talk to David tonight. And Killian, we really would love to have you there.”

“I’ll see,” he says as he fights to keep from smiling too widely. “May I recommend the cheddar bites for the menu. They’ll kill you, but you’ll enjoy it.”

“I have never once seen you get the cheddar bites,” Emma scoffs.

He leans over the table, pressing his chin in his hand and smirking the way he knows she likes. She tells him he’s obnoxious when he does it, but sometimes he can see past that hard shell exterior. “I’m full of surprises, darling.”

“That you are, Jones. That you are.”

-/-

-/-

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[kashimos-hajime]

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!

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.

[glbertblyth]

AN: It’s been a long time shirbert fans... anybody still up for some fake-dating shenanigans? 

It was raining by the time Diana arrived—the sort of rainfall Anne might have basked in and even written a poem or two about if she’d had a mind for it. Instead, with Gilbert’s short visit still fresh in her mind, it only exacerbated her horrible mood.

Once out the door (slammed behind her, much to Marilla’s great woe), Anne threw her denim jacket overhead to avoid the inevitable ruination of the pretty outfit she’d decided on that day. The walk to the back door of her friend’s car was all it took to dampen her hair and muddy up her beloved white hightops. She didn’t even want to begin to imagine what the state of her hair might be once dry again. The half hour she’d spent on taming the wild red lockes surely going down the drain with every squelching step she took. She shuddered to picture the disobedient strands frizzing and curling annoyingly around her shoulders.

“Anne!” was the first thing she heard when she opened the car door, her hands cold and clammy from grasping the freezing handle.  

It was Diana who had exclaimed it, smiling brightly from her spot in the driver’s seat. At its most brilliant sight, Anne’s sour mood nearly melted away - she did so love Diana’s smiles. So for a fleeting moment it was as if it were summer again and they were having one of their lovely days of sloth, with the sun vibrant on their skin as they lay in the fields behind Diana’s house watching the clouds slowly drift across the sky. No school to worry about or boys to try and decipher.

Then thunder rumbled and she was brought back to the present. Sitting wetly in the backseat of Diana’s car next to Jane and catching the very last few syllables of words mumbled from the front.

The brunette beside Anne reached across the gap in the seats to pinch Ruby, who squeaked indignantly.

“We brought coffee,” Diana went on, pulling out onto the road. The higher octave of her voice gave way to the obvious—she was being purposely breezy. Acting as if Anne hadn’t just opened the door and interrupted a conversation in which they had most definitely been talking about her. “I had them put an extra shot in yours because I know that’s the way you like it. Ruby? The coffee?”

Ruby rolled her eyes as she passed the drink to Anne. But she didn’t turn back around when it was in the red-head’s grasp, instead hovering there with an oddly expectant look on her face. A look, Anne realized, that was present on the other girl’s faces as well. Even Diana, big brown eyes wide like a doe’s in the rearview mirror.

“What?” she asked, pausing with her mouth halfway to the straw of her coffee and glancing around awkwardly.

When the only response was the low and torrid voice of Harry Styles drifting through the stereo and a raise of Jane’s eyebrows, Anne’s lips thinned in realization. The very word she had interrupted when she’d opened the door hadn’t been a word at all. It had been a name. Gilbert’s name.

Anne flopped her head back onto the cushioned seat, “Oh god,” she bemoaned. Could she not escape it for five minutes? Not even amongst her most beloved kindred spirits?

But there was nowhere to hide. Not with the three sets of eyes watching her so curiously. Waiting for her to give an explanation that she surely did not have. She was beginning to grow tired of Avonlea’s uncanny ability to spread gossip like wildfire.

“Watch the road,” Anne snapped at her best friend,  “or you’ll kill us all.”

Diana gasped and averted her gaze, focusing instead on navigating the road through the pelting rain.

“You can’t deny it happened,” Jane said matter-of-factly. “It’s all over everything.” Then she whipped out her phone, pulling up twitter as a way to prove her point.

“Don’t believe everything you read.” Anne snapped at her.

“So you’re saying it’s just a made up rumor?” asked Ruby, almost hopefully—because while Anne had despised Gilbert since the time she’d first laid eyes on him, Ruby had simply adored him. While Anne would spend every single valuable and precious minute of her English classes poking holes in Gilbert’s foolish arguments, Ruby was sitting not two seats away, mooning. It was exasperating.

“I’m just saying,” Anne folded her arms defensively across her chest, “there was a lot more to it than that.”

“So it happened?!” Ruby exclaimed, with such force she knocked her binder into Diana’s lap and almost spilled both of their drinks.

“Ruby!”

“Well I’m sorry but—this is—you can’t just act like this isn’t a big deal, Anne! He’s Gilbert! ”

“I’m well aware of who he is.”

“You hate him!”

Anne bit the inside of her cheek. Of course she hated him. Of course. But it’s not as if she could tell the truth: that she had used Gilbert as a mere line of defense against dearest Diana’s cousin—her very own flesh and blood. Though how that was possible was beyond Anne considering he was so insufferably annoying, whereas Diana was so sweet and kind and considerate. She never would have pushed anyone the way that Roy had Anne. She never would have refused to take ‘no’ for an answer, never would have imposed so thoroughly on Anne’s personal space that she felt as if suddenly all of the oxygen in the world had run out except what was left in her lungs.

Hell, even Gilbert had taken Anne’s ‘no’ at face value. He had nodded and left, much to her great relief. And how terrible a concept to consider: Marilla inviting him to stay for breakfast! What would she have done then?

“Anne,” Jane poked her cheek. “You’ve got some serious explaining to do.”

Like hell she did. Maybe the decision to kiss Gilbert had been rash, but she wouldn’t have done it had she not felt as though she’d been forced into a corner. And while she did hate Gilbert’s guts, the mere aspect of her kissing him shouldn’t have been ground breaking news. He’d been there. She’d used him as a shield. That was it.

Even if the memory of his lips moving fervently against her own had haunted her dreams all night, it was nobody else's business. After all, he’d technically been her first real kiss. And even if she did think him an insufferable pompous ass, she wasn’t entirely incapable of admitting that he was a rather good-looking boy. She wasn’t blind for chrissake.

But even so, she had absolutely no intention of that little tidbit of information ever leaving the confines of her own mind. Nobody needed to know that she found Gilbert Blythe attractive. Or that she may have very mildly delighted in the fact that he’d been so quick to kiss her back. Or—or that she’d felt a bit of a thrill when she’d seen him again that very morning; a thrill that may or may not have caused her to even entertain the plan that he’d so eloquently presented to her.

The severity of the realization jolted her. Rose her blood levels to an alarming height. Had she just admitted to anticipating Gilbert’s presence?

“I don’t have to explain myself to any of you!” Anne exploded. Though she couldn’t tell if her anger was directed at her friends, at herself, or at the mere prospect of having anything but ill feelings toward her long time rival.  “What I do with my life is nobody’s business but my own! I don’t intrude on your private lives like this.”

Ruby shrunk back, but Jane wasn’t deterred. Everyone knew Anne had a terrible temper sometimes. When she yelled it was usually because she felt like she’d been backed into a corner and couldn’t see an escape besides pushing everyone else away.

“Sorry, Anne, but I’m your friend. Friends talk about this stuff. They don’t keep secrets.”

“It’s not a secret.” Anne grumbled. But she knew it was a weak argument. That her friend was right and that she had absolutely no excuse as to why she should keep the truth from them.

Because you’re actually considering Gilbert’s offer, a vexing voice said in her head,  And telling them you only did it as a way to escape Royal would ruin it. The voice only annoyed her more despite its truth.

Anne took a sip of her coffee with far more enthusiasm than necessary. Any excuse to avoid talking on the subject further. Avoid meeting the tense stares of her friends.

“I don’t see why it would be such a big deal that you kissed him anyway. Half of our grade has been expecting you two to jump each other’s bones for years.” Jane shrugged nonchalantly.

Anne felt the large gulp lodge in her throat as she choked out a cough, “What?”  

Ruby craned her neck around to face her, baby blue eyes wide and vulnerable. Diana released a quiet titter of laughter but didn’t take her eyes off the road.

Traitor.

Jane rolled her eyes exasperatedly, briefly meeting the hurt look of their sensitive friend,  “Oh give up, Ruby. He’s known you his whole life and hasn’t made an attempt at you,” When Ruby faced the front again, lower lip jutted out in a pout, her dark gaze swiveled back to Anne’s, “ You , however, caught his attention from the moment you arrived.”

Anne flared her nostrils indignantly, “Not true.”

The girl next to her threw her hands up in frustration, “It is too!”

“Is not.”

“What are we, five?” Jane quipped. And then her face turned smug, “Besides, you guys did end up kissing, didn’t you?”

Jesus, it was a good thing they’d barely missed seeing Gilbert at green gables. Anne hated to think how insufferable her friends might have been had they known he’d stopped by that morning.

She let out a dramatic huff, placing her coffee in the cupholder between them and then crossing her arms to her chest. “Do you just believe everything that Josie Pye posts?”

Jane opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Ruby turned around in her seat again, “We don’t have to. You’ve been evasive enough to answer the question on if you kissed him or not for us.” She said with an adorable scrunch to her eyebrows. It was obvious she was stung but didn’t want to be left out of the conversation.

A loud clap of thunder sounded outside of the car, mirroring Anne’s emotions perfectly. Oh, how she wished she were a storm cloud sometimes. Floating above it all, no care in the world. No expectations except for that of releasing their torrential rage on unsuspecting passers-by. Perhaps if that were her, she wouldn’t have gotten herself in such a messy situation.

She watched as the windshield wipers slapped at the front window, avoiding looking her friends in their eyes. “How far are we from the school?” she grumbled. Though it was certainly going to be a tough task in it’s own, it would be better than sitting under the excruciating scrutiny of the three girls she was trapped in the small car with.

Diana cleared her throat. “Just another block,” she said.

“If you want me to make sure Josie stays off your back today, I need to have the details.” Jane stated simply.

Anne ground her teeth at the annoying tenacity of her friend.  “There aren’t any.”

“There aren’t any? ”

“That’s what I said.”

“How could there possibly not be—“

“Jane!” Anne snapped, teeth gnashing out like that of a caged dog’s, “Just drop it!”

There was a stunned silence for a moment as Jane snapped her mouth shut. No other sound but the constant pattering of the rain against the windows and the quiet hum of the radio. In the rearview mirror, Diana exchanged a sympathetic look with Anne.

“Fine,” Jane said finally, a cool resolve in her brown eyes, “But just because you hate Gilbert doesn’t mean everyone else does. If I can’t get the answer from you, I’ll just ask him.”

Anne stiffened—every muscle in her body pulling taut as she fought the urge to strike out with her constant weapon of choice: words.

Gilbert wouldn’t sell her out… would he? Not when he himself was riding on the possibility of a public relationship saving face.

God, would pretending to date him actually work? Could they even do it? Could she do it? Certainly he’d do something to piss her off. Something that would cause her to lash out and make it obvious that they were not, and would never actually be, in a relationship.

The thoughts tormented her as Diana pulled the car into the student parking lot. As she parked in her normal spot near the entrance. As she turned off the engine and they were swallowed by the sound of the falling rain. How fitting to see that Mother Nature bore such a pitiful mood—gray clouds swirling in the sky the very same way Anne’s feelings were swirling in her head.

As her friends giggled amongst themselves—already having moved on to the next subject of interest and opening their car doors—she took a shaking deep breath. Steeling herself against whatever the day might throw at her and clambering out of the car into sheets of cold rain.  

+++

When the lunch bell rang, releasing students from their third period classes, Anne’s relief was as palpable as a cool wave crashing against a hot sandy shore. She gathered her things hastily—stuffing them into her bag and barely zipping it back up before hurrying from her calculus class and out into the crowded hallway.

She had very little want of being left in the classroom with a certain tall, dark, and tousled boy. And since that was how things normally went—since Anne and Gilbert were usually the last two left in the classroom, quickly scrawling the last of their work out on the worksheets before them—her rush to leave the confines of the classroom wasn’t without warrant.

Not for the first time since being acquainted with Gilbert Blythe, Anne cursed the fact that they shared a fair amount of classes. (Or unfair if you’d asked her.) But this day… This day had taken her dislike to an entirely different level.

Or maybe dislike wasn’t the correct word for the churning she felt in her stomach every time she’d caught a glimpse of his disheveled dark curls across the room. Maybe awkwardness was the proper noun with which to describe the tension she felt pulled taut between them. If she could even assume it was a reciprocated tension in the first place, that is. She certainly felt it—choking the air around her like a thick and unwanted layer of dust. But… Gilbert hadn’t necessarily shown any discomfort at the sight of her. He’d backed off on making his usual snide comments or witty remarks, yes, but she wasn’t positive that it was because he was playing an angle or if he genuinely thought it better to leave her alone.  

Nevertheless, it made Anne’s gut twist uncomfortably. And because the whole school seemed to already know what had transpired the previous afternoon, she loathed to even look in his direction let alone exchange their usual haughty comments. She had, in not so many words, been avoiding him for the entirety of the school day—ducking out of shared classes with all the speed of a bulleting train and keeping her line of vision pinned straight ahead even when she felt his warm honey gaze settle on the side of her face.

This, of course, did not escape the notice of her ever so nosy classmates. In fact, the fervent silence between the two known rivals after such an unexpected public display of affection had only caused an even deeper upset among her peers. Anne liked to think she had learned to never underestimate the might of a small town’s grape vine, but she certainly hadn’t expected such… such backlash from one simple spontaneous moment in time.

To walk through the hallways of her familiar high school and notice the boisterous noise of groups dwindle around her felt much like her early days in Avonlea—except this time, instead of having smacked the town’s golden boy with a heavy textbook, she’d kissed him. And apparently that warranted an even more uproarious reaction.

Anne pushed through the crowd of students and scrambled to her locker—head down in an attempt to ignore the whispers around her. She’d thought that, after three and a half years, she had moved past the days of being an outcast; past the days of being a subject of interest on nearly every one of her classmate’s tongues.

Apparently she’d been wrong. All this time they’d only been hiding in the shadows, waiting for the precise moment she did anything out of the ordinary, so that they could pounce.

As she exchanged binders and textbooks with what had been stacked neatly in her locker, she was so thoroughly enveloped in her own vortex of thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the tall and skinny figure approach her.

“Anne,” the figure said. And despite the familiar trill of the voice, she startled, nearly slamming her fingers in the locker as she’d closed it.

“Dammit, Cole,” she hissed, but there was a smile beneath it.

She turned to her friend, a feeling of ease settling on her shoulders as it always had around Cole Mackenzie. He was leaning against the lockers with his hands wrung loosely around the straps of his backpack and his familiar blue eyes were warm with affection. After a moment, Anne realized there was a dark smudge just under his right eye—more than likely a result of wiping at his face after working with charcoal or graphite. A quick glance at his smeared hands confirmed just as much.

“You’ve got art on your face,” she said, gesturing at her own as a way to show him.

He released a breathy laugh before using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe it off. “Sorry I wasn’t able to get here sooner, I got caught up in class.”

Anne snorted despite herself. “Sure you did,” she said. “Keep acting like you weren’t flirting with that new exchange student.” She twisted her mouth into a feigned look of utter despair, “You left me to the wolves.”

Cole laughed as she schooled her features back to their normal, friendly state and swung her bag around her shoulder. She entwined her hand with his as they made their way in the direction of the cafeteria.

He fixed her with a faux imperious look. “I was only showing Gabriel the precise way of shading. Charcoal is a difficult medium to work with.”

“Don’t tell me,” Anne lowered her voice, acting as though what she was about to say was an absolute scandal, “You stood behind him and guided his hand with your own, heart pounding against his back as he leaned into you.” She caught at her chest with her free hand, “Oh, how romantic! ” she squealed, much louder than she’d meant to. A few students looked in their direction.

An exasperated laugh burst from her friend’s lips and he squeezed her hand lightly. “Not so loud, Anne.”

She shrugged. “People are gay, Cole. They can get over it.”

Cole wasn’t necessarily closeted. It was a pretty well-known fact within their friend group that he was very much homosexual—you have one conversation with him and he just couldn’t hold back his flamboyancy— but the world was still filled with small-minded bigots. And in a small town like the one they lived in, it was easier just to keep the knowledge of his sexual preference to a minimum.

“I suppose this means our vow to marry one another is broken,” she continued forlornly. It was a joking promise they’d made to one another when they were fifteen and certain they’d be deemed outcasts forever—no one but each other to lean on.

Of course, she’d had Diana. Beautiful Diana. But there were many things Anne experienced that her beloved best friend just couldn’t understand. Diana was popular, beautiful, a glittering star among the backdrop of the night sky—something with which Anne found little to no relatability being the scrawny ostracized girl that she was. But Cole’s friendship allowed a quiet solace; a person who knew what it was like to feel unwanted and unpopular.

Cole snorted. “You broke it first,” he said, “What do Gilbert Blythe’s lips feel like?”

Anne nearly tripped over her own two feet, having briefly forgotten the mess she’d gotten herself into. She snapped her head to look at the tall boy beside her and fixed him with a desperate glare. The look on his face was nonchalant, but she knew he was dying with curiosity.

“Why’d you have to bring that up?” she said, unable to help the whiny tone that had weaved itself into her words.

Cole clucked his tongue. “You left me on read last night. You deserve it.”

“I think I’ve gotten punishment enough,” she replied, a frown twisting at her lips. “It’s all anybody can talk about when they see me.”

He looked at her. “Anne. You kissed Gilbert Blythe . ”

“Yes, I know what I did.”

“Gilbert. Blythe.”

Anne unlatched her hand from Cole’s and threw her arms up exasperatedly. “Can people stop saying his name as if I don’t know who he is!?”

They turned down a slightly less crowded hallway, taking a shortcut they’d found halfway through their freshman year. “Can you stop brushing it off like it’s no big deal?”

“It isn’t a big deal.” Anne grumbled.

He ignored her. “How’d it happen anyway?”

There was a tearing feeling in her stomach—indecision on if she should tell him the truth of the matter or not. The small part of her brain that was hung on Gilbert’s earlier suggestion rioted at her to choose not.

It won. “It just—happened. Okay?”

Cole screwed his nose up. “What does that even mean? ” he said. “What, did you just randomly see him and say ‘fuck it, I’mma give into the three years of overwhelming sexual tension’ and decide to eat his face off?”

Anne blanched at him, stopping dead walk in the middle of the hallway. “Sexual tension?” she sputtered. “Have you been talking to Jane?”

Cole released a light laugh at the expression on her face. “No, but I’m not surprised she feels the same way. Everybody does.”

“I hate it here.” Anne said sadly, mouth turning down at one corner. What a piteous thing to confuse hatred with sexual desire. Because certainly— certainly —Cole and Jane were wrong. There was absolutely no sexual tension between her and Gilbert Blythe. None whatsoever. And she was positive in the fact that there never would be.

“Drama queen.”

“How observant of you,” Anne replied, beginning to make her way down the hallway again. “It’s as if we’re friends. Almost like you know me.”

Her blonde companion snorted, but followed after her.

“Apparently not,” he continued vexingly. “Not if you’re sucking face with Gilbert frickin’ Blythe.”

“Cole, I love you, I really do. But if you don’t shut up right this very moment, I will not hesitate to murder you.”

“Anne—“

“I’m serious,” she said, “I live on a farm—lots of sharp tools at my disposal, Mackenzie. Don’t push me.”

He laughed—a short and exasperated release of breath. “Has anybody ever told you you’re kinda scary when you want to be?”

She glanced over to where he was matching her stride beside her, smiling crookedly and impishly.

Cole’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Please don’t flash me your murder eyes. It gives me the creeps.”

Reaching across the space between them with her arm, she patted his shoulder lightly. “Good.”

They lapsed into casual conversation then, walking quickly the rest of the way to the cafeteria and occasionally bumping each other’s shoulders teasingly. She really did appreciate Cole, she decided. Well, she’d always appreciated him—but unlike the rest of her companions, he never pushed her to talk about the things he knew she was most uncomfortable with. Teased her relentlessly maybe—okay, certainly —but he always, always, knew when enough was enough.

As they passed through the metal-doored threshold of Avonlea High’s sorry excuse for a cafeteria, (even their library was larger than the sparsely decorated area—hardly even eight long tables adorning the length of the walls and smaller rounded ones few and far between) Anne startled at the absolute terror she was faced with.

Being such a small school, the majority of the senior class was pushed into the same lunch schedule. Meaning all the kids she’d grown with for the past few years—all the classmates that knew most definitely about Anne’s adamant hatred towards one Gilbert Blythe—paused fractionally when they noticed her fiery mane out of the corners of their eyes.

Anne’s heart rate kicked up, stomach twisting painfully as the cafeteria quieted ever so slightly and heads swiveled to gawk at her.

She felt Cole’s hand squeeze hers. “Christ,” he mumbled beside her. “They really don’t have any lives do they.”

She snorted, eased slightly by his encouraging and easy-going presence. “Our school doesn’t even have a total of five-hundred students. This is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened since you showed sophomore year and Billie Andrews made it his mission to torment you.”

Her friend winced. “Don’t remind me.”

“Shit, sorr—“

“Anne!”

The breath that had frozen in Anne’s chest upon realizing the upset she’d caused when first entering the cafeteria thawed the rest of the way at the familiar cadence of Diana’s voice. She could see her friend’s veil of dark hair, her infectious smile big and bright as she stood from their usual table tucked in the far corner of the room. The rest of her friends, still sitting, waved to her gregariously.

Friends, Anne reminded herself. Those are your friends and not even the disastrous evening before and whatever trouble Gilbert Blythe insights next can take them away from you.

She felt a warm smile tug at her lips as she moved toward the familiar corner, pulling Cole behind her as she went. But as she got closer, doubt crept into her mind. She saw the nervous glances Tillie, Jane and Ruby exchanged with one another—however miniscule they might have tried to make them seem. The scrunch of Diana’s nose, bringing her hand down from her enthusiastic wave and rubbing at a non-existent itch. Anne recognized it immediately as her bosom friend’s nervous tick.

Her steps slowed as she approached the table, nearly causing Cole to stumble into her from where he’d been following behind. Josie Pye—she was sitting straight backed, arms folded across her chest and an accusing glare flashing in her blue eyes.

Oh no.

Now this— this was the part she’d forgotten all about. Josephine Pye and her ridiculous aversion to amiable conversation. Her insufferable adamance on making Anne’s existence appear as a show for all the school to see. Josie fancied herself a puppet master, tugging at the strings on Anne’s back from the very first moment they’d met. And though a tedious friendship had developed between the two over the last few years, some things just never changed.

“Hey,” Anne squeaked out, instantly noticing how guilty she already sounded. She winced, sat stiffly on the stool across from her friends.

Cole rolled his eyes and plopped down beside her, shoved his bookbag towards the end of the table and folded his artist hands in front of him as he leveled Josie with a shockingly protective gaze.

“There will be absolutely no mentions of a certain happening with a certain someone taking place at a certain time yesterday afternoon, got it?” His voice left no room for discussion.

Diana nodded eagerly, reaching across the table and giving Anne a sympathetic squeeze of the hand. Jane pursed her lips, obviously wanting to say something, anything, about the unfinished conversation the girls had all had in the car that morning—but seemed to think better of it. Tillie and Ruby, always the more soft spoken of the group, simply sat quietly, glancing between Cole and Josie, the latter of which had narrowed her eyes in an obvious challenge.

The blonde grenade snapped her eyes to Anne instead. “I think that—“

“No.” Anne said icily, surprising herself. She’d never been one to overtly challenge Josie. But after dealing with Royal Gardner and Gilbert Blythe and every single pair of eyes that had followed and judged and questioned her all morning, she’d had enough.

She cleared her throat, “No,” she tried again, less hostile this time. “We will not be discussing the kiss because it’s my business and I owe absolutely nobody an explanation.”

“Periodt,” chimed Cole, snapping his fingers. Diana giggled, attempting to smother it with her hand but failing rather obviously.

Tillie’s eyes had turned wide as saucers. “So it’s true? You and Gilbert kissed?”

“Of course it’s true, I saw it with my own two eyes.” Josie snapped, “And obviously—“

“Josie, Anne literally just said we weren’t discussing it.” Diana huffed. It was the most annoyed Anne had ever seen her act with Josie—it made her want to tackle her best friend in a hug. “Please just drop the subject, okay? If she wants to explain herself then she will.”

“Must I repeat myself?” Cole raised an eyebrow at the blonde dragon across from him who was just barely containing the angry smoke Anne was sure to pore from her nostrils.

“Please,” replied Jane, amused.

“Periodt!” And he gave another flamboyant snap of his fingers.

Josie rolled her eyes imperiously. “You guys are dumb,” she said to the snickering gaggle of girls beside her, then she faced Anne again. “Look, I’m not one to really care all that much about your romantic life—“

Cole opened his mouth to protest but without even glancing his way, Josie cut herself off and snapped, “Shut it, Mackenzie.”

He raised his hands in the universal sign of defeat.

“But as your friend,” loosely Anne had to bite back from commenting as Josie continued, “I worry about what this means for your… reputation.”

“Oh, for the love of god, Josephine Pye. We’re in high school, not running for the frickin’ electoral college. I promise you, me kissing somebody is not that deep.”

Did any of them have lives?

A throat cleared beside her—Cole’s. “I mean,” he said quietly, “it kind of is when you’ve vowed to hate said kissee for the rest of your days. ‘So long as you bring air into your lungs’ I believe were your exact words.”

Anne snapped her head over to her traitorous friend, one who’d not moments ago was just defending her.

“Whose side are you on?”

“The gays,” he said solemnly. And then, upon seeing Anne’s unamused look, “Joking, joking—I mean, not joking obviously, but… Look, Anne. As overdramatic as Josie is being—“ said girl harrumphed impertinently, “—Everybody and their mother knows how much you hate Gilbert. I’ll fight tooth and nail for you, girl, but this whole situation is questionable in the least.”

“I just want you to know,” began Anne, “How much I hate all of you right now, nevermind Gilbert.”

“Hey!” Tillie protested, “I haven’t done a single thing besides ask if the rumor was true in the first place.”

“Tillie Boulter with-holding.”

Jane opened her mouth, “I—“

“You’re on thin fuckin’ ice, Jane Andrews.”

Anne was so incredibly and entirely tired of this entire situation. So much for not talking about it… God, she should just out and admit the reasoning already. Clear the air, make sure that everybody knew it was a farce. A ploy to get Roy Gardner to finally leave her alone.

Who was she kidding anyway? Even entertaining the idea that Gilbert had planted in her head earlier that morning was absolute insanity. Them? Dating? Imagine the uproar then. If her classmates were so nosy as to be absolutely entranced by the fact that they simply kissed, imagine if they announced they were dating .

Oh dearest Snow Queen, she asked of her longest comfort, What would you do?

She set her jaw then, determining it was time to come clean. “Listen, guys. Gilbert and I didn’t actually—“

“Anne?”

She froze. Didn’t blink. Didn’t take a single breath for what felt like a solid thirty seconds. Her friends all startled to look behind her, Cole craning his neck to meet the gaze of probably the absolute last person Anne wanted to see right then.

“Roy!” Diana chirped with false cheer. Her eyes flit between Anne and the monstrous cad that stood behind her, betraying the panic she felt on behalf of her best friend. “I thought you had B lunch?”

Anne refused to turn around, still frozen as she watched, horrified, as all her friends looked at each other confused and curious.

“Well, I did. But the adviser decided to switch some of my classes around. She thought it would be best if I stayed with the rest of the senior class even if British academia didn’t quite meet up with American—Anne, are you trying to hide?”

She was, she totally, full-heartedly was. She’d sunk into herself, almost as if she were trying to allow the lunch table to swallow her whole.

“Anne, sit up ,” Josie hissed at her. Was she—god, was she batting her eyelashes at the boy behind her? The boy in which Anne could very clearly feel inching closer to her with every second she didn’t acknowledge him?

She took a deep breath, turned around in her seat finally for fear that he might reach out and touch her, place his disgustingly delicate and nimble hand on her shoulder. “Roy,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Hi.”

“Hullo.” Roy replied, probably smiling in a way he thought was enormously charming. “Your dress is quite beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the one wearing it, I might say. Almost .”

Oh, for the love of all that is good and— He was insufferable. Anger, white hot and immediate bubbled in her blood.

“What do you want?” She said, rather bluntly. Cole elbowed her in the arm, shot her a confused look. I’ll explain later, she hoped her face portrayed to him.

Diana, ever the mediator, cleared her throat. “Royal. These are my friends. Tillie, Ruby, Jane, Josie, and Cole.” Cole watched him hesitantly, the girls all exchanged giddy glances. “Of course, you already know Anne.”

“How could I ever forget.”

Anne had to resist the urge to feign a gag.

“Anyways. Guys, this is my cousin Royal.”

“Roy. Call me Roy,” he said. But he didn’t even glance at them, his eyes were trained solely on Anne’s. And Anne rather wanted to punch him in his obnoxiously pert nose.

“It’s nice to meet you, Roy—“ Ruby had begun, but the miscreant cut her off, paying sweet Ruby no attention.

“Anne, I was hoping we might talk?”

Anne clenched her jaw, fought to keep from squeezing her eyes closed in exasperation at the sheer audacity Roy had to even ask that of her.

Right. This was why she’d entertained Gilbert’s plan. This was why she had desperately kissed him. Because Royal Gardner had no boundaries and despite being related to her best and closest friend, every moment spent in his presence was a moment she knew she’d never get back.

“Talk,” she said stiffly. She stood up, grabbed a confused Cole’s hand and yanked him up beside her. “But make it fast because Cole and I still haven’t had a chance to get in the lunch line.”

“I am… so confused.” Anne heard one of the girls say behind her. Diana shushed her.

“Privately? Perhaps?”

She was seriously going to punch this boy in the face. Like, actually. Right there in front of everybody.

“Privately?” Anne snapped coldly, her fury like fire in her veins. She stepped around him, cornered him to the table, making sure her back was to the rest of the cafeteria. Too many rumors were already circulating around her. If she caused a scene, lord knew she’d never come back from it. “Are you joking?”

She saw Cole step back from the corner of her eye, scuttle to the other side of the cafeteria table with the girls. All their eyes were wide and unsure of what to make of the situation.

“Anne, there’s no need for such hostility. I was just trying to—“

“Deliberately make her uncomfortable?” a new voice chimed in from behind her. There was an unrecognizable hardness to it, incongruous to all of the other times she had heard it before. Across from her, her friends' eyes widened impossibly, gazes landing on the new addition to the already intolerable conversation.

Anne could feel as all the eyes in the cafeteria turned toward them, a sure spectacle to behold.

She watched as Roy’s jaw hardened, eyes trained behind her with a new intensity as he tracked the movements of Gilbert Blythe lazily sidling up beside Anne.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of properly meeting,” Gilbert said as he threw an arm around Anne’s shoulders. She had to fight to keep from stiffening up, knew what he was doing, knew exactly what game he was playing at as he pulled her closer to his side and tucked her neatly beneath his arm. And while her blood boiled at his intrusion, at the audacity he had to come running in like he thought he was  some god-awful knight-in-shining-armor, at the way her friends’ expressions all changed immediately—all smirking and knowing and not nearly as surprised as she thought they’d be—the smallest part of her was relieved.

Relieved.

Like she’d still been gunning for that stupid, ludicrous plan that Gilbert had blabbered on about that very morning to actually work. Which in itself was most positively and unmitigatedly not going to happen in a million—

“Right. Is this him then?” The accusation in Roy’s voice broke Anne from her spiraling thoughts, solidifying the situation she was in. There, in front of all of her friends and essentially the entire senior class, she was facing off with one of the most impudent males she’d ever had the displeasure of meeting.

And, lord above, Gilbert Blythe of all people was the only person with the ability to make Roy leave her alone.

“Just a few months.” His words pinged around in her mind, “We get Royal and Winnie off our backs. And then we never have to deal with each other outside of class again .”

She scowled, resisting the urge to fidget beneath Gilbert’s arm. The heat radiating from his body where their sides were pressed flush together was rather difficult to ignore. She felt as though she could feel it fuse with her blood, travel through her veins and warm her cheeks, her toes, clog up her lungs.

“Is this who?” Anne replied, her scowl deepening.

“The boyfriend. The reason I can’t pursue you… or so you say.”

A choking sound came from her group of friends, though she absolutely refused to look in their direction. She was positive that the fire she felt across her cheeks no longer had anything to do with Gilbert’s body heat.

Roy raised a single brow when she opened her mouth, snapped it back shut immediately—a fish floundering on dry land. Gilbert’s arm tightened around her shoulder, probably meant to be comforting, reassuring, but it only made her want to elbow him in the side. The mortification leaching any and all relief she’d previously felt by his presence.

“I—uh,” she stuttered. Oh god, ohgodohgodohgodohgod. How in the hell had she gotten herself into this situation?

“My god, he broke her,” she heard Cole whisper.

“Anne? You did tell me you had one, right?” Roy’s eyebrow was still raised, the brazen confidence leaking from every pore. She hated him, she decided. Hated him more than the curly haired boy whose arm was wrapped around her and whose current silence felt like a ticking time bomb.

“I did,” she replied, and to her utmost horror it came out weakly.

“As much as I love being talked about as if I’m not standing right here,” Gilbert interjected, and Anne wasn’t sure if he’d noticed it but his thumb had started rubbing tiny comforting circles where it rested on her upper arm, “Anne doesn’t owe you an explanation. As a matter of fact, she doesn’t owe you a damn thing. So whether she has a boyfriend or not—whether I’m that boyfriend or not—is none of your business.”

Woah.

Wait a minute, not woah , what the hell? Had he really said that? Had it really made her heart rate kick up in her chest at the way he’d not only defended her but her right to make her own choices without explanation?

Royal blinked, opened his mouth, closed it. But Gilbert ignored him, turned his head to face Anne. The expression on his face said It’s up to you , the small curve at the corner of his mouth added, Carrots.

She closed her eyes, counted one, two, before opening them back up and meeting Roy’s gaze.

God help her.

“Yeah, Roy,” she said, swallowed thickly, “Gilbert is my boyfriend."

[kyber-crystal]

Unspoken Words

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 4.2k (I POPPED OFF LOLLLLL)

Summary: In which the night before being deployed on a covert black-ops mission overseas with Natasha, you write Steve a secret love letter that you never intended to give him. But, it still ends up falling into his hands.

Warnings: fluff, soft angst, cute steve hehe

A/N: once again, shamelessly stole this idea from the kdrama im watching adsfasdf

To Steve.

You always told me it was time I found someone who cared for me just as much as I cared about others. For the longest time, I had myself believing I was set for life since I already had the team. That I didn’t need to find a man to sweep me off my feet and take his last name, to have as my own, as every time I seemed to let my feelings wander astray, it’d end in tragedy.

After waiting for too long to say this, I guess I'm gonna come clean now, so brace yourself. I felt as if this would be easier for me if I was saying it on paper rather than in person, so here you go.

I realized I'm in love with you. You never leave my mind. You're always there, mentally, if not physically. It's hard for you to comprehend all at once, I know, it's hard for me to wrap my mind around, too. It still feels unreal that I'm actually admitting all this to you. I could've sworn I'd only acted this way in my dreams, but hey, reality can sometimes come up behind you and slap you in the face, you know?

In the middle of the storm, a war that rages on in my mind, you’re my safe haven. You’re the gentle center who keeps me steady and prevents me from teetering over the edge and losing my grip on reality. You keep me centered, and I don’t know what I’d do without you by my side. Steven Grant Rogers, I’m in love with you. I know, it doesn’t seem real. As crazy as it sounds, I’m hopelessly in love with you.

Steve, you are my one stability in a chaos-ridden world and I thank you endlessly for that. I so desperately needed something to hold onto, something to convince me I was still alive and breathing and somewhat sane. It's hard for me, it's hard that only today I've accepted the feelings I'd been harboring inside for years. But I've decided to admit defeat and admit I've officially fallen in love with you. Because what I'm beginning to feel now is far too strong for me to ignore; it's impossible to keep up this act when you're all I can seem to think about.

It's all strange, honestly. The feeling of butterflies flying around my stomach and tickling my insides makes me feel as if I'm up in the sky, my head in the clouds, but it also overwhelms me and makes me scared at the same time. The fact that I'm in so deeply in love scares me because I know when I'm really in love with someone, it's hard to escape once I've completed the act of falling for them.

Weird, right? Who knew the great Y/N was so capable of being a romantic sap?

It feels dangerous yet completely safe at the same time, as if someone's given me peace and my heart is dancing around in my chest because it's so happy, at the same time there is a Captain America-shaped hole there in the center that I was never aware was there in the beginning. My chest aches at the thought of having to leave you or you not reciprocating my feelings, but I know I might just suffer that fate, since the world as I know it, isn't kind whatsoever. I should know this better than anyone, after fighting countless battles.

It scares me more than excites me, how you can go from being really close friends to then being completely infatuated and in love with them and wondering how you were ever able to go on with your daily life without them, because I sure as hell can't imagine that now. In the beginning, I told myself it's not right, I still had so much of my life ahead of me, so much time to plan out what I'm going to end up like in the future but my brain is screaming no, no, it is right, it's meant to be.

The team tries convincing me to do something about it but I'm terrified. Terrified that I'll have to bring down the thick and heavy walls I spent so much time building up in the fears of being hurt and damaged and my heart shattered to a million jagged pieces.

I know most people would consider me to be foolish and naïve for spilling my feelings through a sappy love letter, but it's true when I say I love you so much more than I could ever love myself. You're my best friend, and as cheesy as it sounds, you are my everything. My anchor.

I fell for you all on my own. Not because I was pressured to or anything, but because I made the decision myself. I don't just give my heart to you by default as if there's no one else available for me to open up to. It's because I choose to. Every day that I wake up, every day we're fighting for our lives or fighting each other or going about a normal day or whatever, I'll keep choosing you over and over again, and I hope someday you'll do the same.

I love you more than you know. And if you don't feel the same way, then it's perfectly fine. I understand, and I'll wait for you as long as it takes, no matter what.

Whatever it takes.

Y/N

You let out a long sigh and set down your pen, folding the paper up into fourths and tucking it under your lamp before pushing yourself away from your desk and standing up, stretching your arms in the air. What even was the point of doing that, anyways? It’s not like Steve’s just going to come in here and read the letter. 

The downside of living with the Avengers was that word got around very quickly, especially about your love life. There was no hiding anything from anyone, as they’d find out one way or another. If Tony didn’t find out first, it was Natasha, Sam, or Bucky who did.

“Hey, Nat,” you spoke without turning your head to look at who was behind you, knowing your red-headed best friend was leaning against the doorframe, observing you carefully. 

“Y/N,” Natasha nodded and made her way inside, sitting at the edge of your bed and you took a seat next to her, as she rested her head on your shoulder. “You alright? I can tell something’s on your mind.”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Something tells me you’re not.”

“Did Wanda read my mind for you?” you raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“No, she didn’t,” she replied honestly, “she’s busy baking cookies with Vis and Peter right now. You think you wanna tell me what’s up? As your best friend, I’m obligated to know what’s going on.”

You closed your eyes and let out a long sigh. "You know what it is."

"You mean who?"

"Why am I letting this happen to myself?"

"You can't control who you fall for,," she explained. "Your heart sometimes just has a mind of its' own."

“He’s Captain America,” you deadpanned.

“And you’re the badass Y/N!”

“I shouldn’t even have feelings in the first place. And I shouldn't have written that love letter that I won't even give him anyways, or...you know."

"You wrote him a letter?"

You got up and tugged the letter from underneath your lamp and gave it to her, watching as her eyes scanned over the paper with your tidy, typewriter-like handwriting filling the sheet from top to bottom.

"So..."

Natasha handed the paper back to you. "Why can't you just tell him?"

"Because he doesn’t like me back."

"You should tell him at some point. Keeping this all to yourself isn't healthy."

"You sound like Tony."

She chuckled lightly. "What?It's the truth."

"Fine," you threw your hands up in the air in defeat, "I’ll consider telling him after we get back from Kyiv. I’m only considering it. And if I do confess...will you take me out for shawarma? Bucky took me last time and I barely got to eat anything because he stole most of my food."

"Alright, I promise," she laughed. "You got a deal."

...

SHIELD was always taking advantage of your almost unparalleled skill in the art of covert espionage and hand to hand combat and sending you off. Normally, it would last no longer than a few days or weeks at a time, so to hear that you'd be gone for four whole months made Steve feel sick to his stomach. He was dreading having to watch you leave, because it would mean spending the next third of a year by himself, without being able to see your face or your smile or simply have you around for some good company.

You pulled him aside after dinner one night to tell him the news.

"Nat and I were called in by Fury early this morning. We're being deployed to eastern Europe to stop a nuclear missile launch."

"How long will you be gone?" He tried to keep his voice as steady as possible, but it was a dead giveaway that he didn't want you to go at all.

"Well...if things go right, 3-4 months."

"And if doesn't?"

"Six, maybe seven."

Steve felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at your answer. "Why is it gonna take so long?"

"I don't know," you sighed, "just trying getting in and out isn't a very short process. We have to maintain low profile for a while before we infiltrate the base. If we're discovered too early on...then...well, we're basically screwed."

"Oh."

"Hey, I'm going to be fine, if that's what you're so worried about," you took his hand in yours and squeezed it tightly, "I know you're thinking I can't handle this, but I can. Nat and I are gonna look out for each other. I promise I'll be okay."

"When are you leaving?"

"First thing in the morning. We gotta go at four."

You didn't have to add on another sentence to tell him it meant you were unable to say goodbye to anyone. He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to ignore that weird feeling in his chest as you kept holding his hand, not letting go even when you had the chance to.

Later that night, you were able to get five hours of sleep before Natasha came in to wake you up and you got ready. When she noticed how your eyes had lost the light to them and your shoulders slumped as you boarded the jet, she knew something was up.

Guilt clawed at your insides. You should’ve told him you loved him before you left, you idiot. What if you don’t make it back alive? Hm?

A set of footsteps echoing across the hangar bay suddenly made you turn around. You turned around to see Steve, jogging towards you and calling out your name. Knowing it was only a matter of minutes before you finished boarding and took off for a mission thousands of miles away, with very little ways of communication as you were supposed to be as discreet as possible when undercover, he didn't want you to leave without saying goodbye.

A mix of surprise and relief is on your face when you see him. You shake your head and give him a reassuring look, that everything was going to be okay and you'd be just fine.

"What are you doing here? You should be sleeping," your brows furrowed together in confusion as you unloaded your weapons, tying up your combat boots. "I thought you—"

Steve quickly comes forward and crushes you into a tight embrace that tells you he's going to miss you much more than he's letting on. You were quick to return the gesture, wrapping your arms around his torso and squeezing him back, resting your head against his broad chest.

"Stay safe out there," he murmured into your hair, pressing a light, fleeting kiss to the top of your hair.

You don't question his sudden act of sentiment, and just gave him a small smile in response. "Don't worry. I will."

With that, you turned around, stepping back up the ramp with Natasha. The gates to the hangar bay slid open, and within seconds you had taken off.

Steve stands there for a while even after the Quinjet is out of his sight, and it's only when Bucky pulls him back inside that he realizes he's been standing there for over an hour without moving at all.

The first few weeks pass by in a blur. He hardly eats, he hardly sleeps, he hardly even gets up for his morning runs or trains at all. After the first two months came and went, Tony grew rather concerned seeing him deteriorate and decided to ask him what was going on.

"Tony, I'm fine."

"Like hell you are. What's up with you? You haven't eaten a solid meal in over two months. You've lost some weight around your face, you almost look like a skeleton. When you haven't gone on your morning runs in forever, I should have a reason to be worried about you, Cap."

"It's been five weeks and she hasn't checked in with us yet," he stated plainly, gulping down his third cup of coffee of the day. "She should've called a week ago."

"God, I never thought you'd be the one to get so worked up over a girl," the billionaire let out a long sigh, pouring himself a cup of coffee as well at the kitchen counter before taking a seat at the island next to him, "but here we are now."

"What if she got injured?"

"Her and Nat are looking out for each other. I'm sure she's fine. She's going to be okay, so why don't you eat something solid for once? Tell me what you wanna order, I'll get it for you."

Thanks, Tony. I'll take Thai." (You and Steve often ate Thai takeout together.)

"Anytime."

Way over in Ukraine, you and Natasha were sitting on the bed in your hotel room watching the news on TV in silence because neither one of you felt like sleeping yet, until she decided to speak up.

"Why haven't you called Rogers yet?"

"I...don't know."

"He's gotta be missing you like hell, you know."

"I know. And I miss him too...a bit too much. That's why I can't call him. Because every time I hear his voice or see something that reminds me of him, it makes me fall even more in love with him and I can't afford having that. I don't want to risk getting hurt. Besides...I already summoned every last ounce of willpower to write that letter."

"You really should give him a call. It's not doing your heart any good to purposely drain yourself of him."

"Fine."

Steve had somehow allowed himself to get roped into a Mario Kart showdown with Bucky and Sam, when his phone suddenly lit up with a familiar number he could recognize anywhere. Your contact picture filled up the screen: you grinning wildly as his arms wrapped around you from behind, Pietro photobombing in the back as he made heart signs with his hands.

He picked up the phone and answered it after only one ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Steve," you spoke over the phone, "how's it going?"

"Hey," he couldn't help but break into a smile, "are you alright?"

"Yeah. We got the data files downloaded onto the flash drive and then destroyed it yesterday. So for now, we're just waiting around and maybe doing some tours of Kyiv while we have time."

"What time is it over there?"

"Half past midnight. You?"

"2:30."

"How are you holding up?"

Bucky and Sam looked over at that exact moment, wiggling their eyebrows up and down as they gestured for Steve to say something. "I'm doing fine. Got pulled into a Mario Kart deathmatch with the two idiots."

"Tell Bucky and Sam I send my regards and that I'm bringing back those baguettes I promised for when we stop over in Paris," you told him.

"I will. It's good to hear your voice, Y/N."

You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter at those words. "It's good to hear your voice, too. Look, I'm sorry...but it's getting late, and my data on my phone is low, Fury didn't give me an unlimited plan so I gotta go now. See you soon."

"Okay. Try to get some good sleep, alright? I don't want you getting hurt because you didn't get a good night's rest the night before. See you."

"COME ON, MAN!" Sam yelled as soon as you hung up. "You didn't even have the decency to say 'I love you?'"

"I love her, but not like that."

"Sure you don't. I saw the way your face lit up when you picked up the phone."

"Two months," the super-soldier let out a sigh of disappointment, setting down the controller to watch him and Bucky tear each other apart on Rainbow Road, "two more months."

He picked up his phone again and clicked on his camera roll, mindlessly beginning to scroll through until one picture caught his eye. It was during summer break when you were vacationing in the Bahamas for two weeks along with several SHIELD agents, and Coulson had taken the team picture. Fury had somehow been convinced to come along as well.

As his eyes scanned all the faces in the picture, he came across himself and noticed that he wasn't smiling at the camera, but at you instead, and you were doing the same. Both of you, gazing into each others' eyes as if the two of you were the only people left on Earth.

He felt a pang in his chest as he realized, at that moment, that he was in love with you and hadn't gotten the chance to tell you so before you left. And now, it could be too late.

The letter ends up reaching Steve much faster than you'd anticipated it to. The next day, he went to drop off the sweatshirt you left in his room last time you’d had a movie night together and comes across a single sheet of paper lying out on your desk.

All the color quickly drains from his face when he realizes this wasn't actually meant for him to read. He knows what he'd just done was wrong, but the fact that he was so oblivious to how you felt about him makes him feel even worse.

...

The mission had gone extremely well. You and Natasha were in and out of that base probably faster than you could summon Tony after yelling out that one of his suits had been tampered with.

Natasha thought it'd be fun to surprise him by coming back a month early and could tell instantly that you loved the idea, judging by the way your eyes lit up when you boarded the Quinjet.

You decided to call him again on the flight back as she sat at the front piloting the jet.

"Steve?"

"Hey. What's up?"

"Uh...I'm afraid there's been a change of plans."

"What plans?" His voice quickly grew worried as he tried masking his disappointment at the fact that you weren't announcing your return.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, I'm sorry, but...I just wanted to call you to update you on what's happening. Signal's not very good up here, Nat and I are flying out again so I'll call you when we touch down."

"Okay. Talk to you in a bit."

After making a quick pit stop at a bakery in Paris, you were up in the skies again, zipping back towards the Avengers HQs where the rest of the team was waiting.

"You know, I think Rogers is in love with you," Natasha gave you a knowing look as you touched down.

"What makes you think that?"

"When you guys were going after Bucky...I think that's when it all happened."

"But that was several years ago?"

"Exactly."

You unbuckled your seatbelts and stood up, picking up your duffel bags as the opening gates dropped down and you stepped off the ramp to an awaiting Bucky, Sam, Clint and Peter.

"Y/N!" Peter rushed forward, squeezing you in a tight hug. "Hi! You're home early!"

"Yeah, I am," you grinned ruffling his hair as you pulled apart. "You make sure Bucky and Sam didn't misbehave?"

Sam shot you a glare as Peter replied. "Well, they were alright. Happy dropped me off here yesterday and I monitored their Mario Kart matches to make sure nobody killed someone, so yeah. Clint was good too."

You went over to Bucky as Natasha went to talk to Sam and Clint about mission details."

"Y/L/N."

"Barnes."

"How was the flight?" His hard expression softened slight as he gave you a quick hug. "I heard everything went pretty well."

"Yeah, it was okay. A bit jet-lagged, but other than that I'm fine. And speaking of flight! I got you guys something."

You motioned for Nat to bring the box of pastries from the jet, and as soon as she did everyone's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Dude, you're the best," Sam exclaimed as he bit into an eclair. "I love Parisian pastries."

"We don't wanna be here too long, now do we?" Clint spoke up. "Y/N, I think you have a special someone to surprise inside."

"Oh?" you raised an eyebrow at the archer before following him and the others inside the compound.

Steve was busy reading a news article on his phone at the kitchen island, sitting there in a plain grey T-shirt and dark jeans when he looked up and met your gaze.

"Hey, soldier," you greeted with a smirk, "miss me?"

His face broke into a grin as he set his phone down. "You're back early."

"Fury was a bit more lenient this time," you shrugged, taking your hands out of your jacket pockets, "so he let us go. Since we got the job done pretty fast."

He chuckled lightly, pulling you close in response and wrapping his strong arms around you. "I'm glad you're back."

"So I take it you really missed me, huh."

"You could put it that way."

"Like hell he missed you. You should've seen him while you were gone, Christ," Sam groaned. "He wouldn't eat anything solid for an entire week."

"Oh!" Wanda piped up, "I believe he has something to tell you? Right, Steve?"

"No, I don't?"

"Uh, we'll leave now, then," Clint awkwardly cleared his throat. "Let's give these two a minute."

With that, they calmly filed out of the kitchen, leaving the two of you to yourselves.

"You look tired," Steve raised an eyebrow at you as he noticed the dark circles under your eyes.

"You look worse," you joked, earning a small laugh from him as you circled your arms around his torso. "I'm just a bit jet-lagged. The ten hour time difference wasn't very kind to me."

"Well, I'm glad you're back," he breathed out, "I missed you."

"Ah, there it is," you mumbled into his chest. "But yeah, I missed you too. And here I was starting to think Captain America didn't have the heart to care for someone so much."

"Only for you, Y/N," he chuckled, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, "only for you."

“Wait a second,” you pulled away and saw a familiar piece of paper sticking out of his jacket pocket, “what’s that?”

Your eyes widened as you pulled it out and realized it was the letter you’d written him several months back. “Oh shit...”

“Was I not supposed to read this?’

“NO!”

“It was addressed to me, though...?”

“I never meant for you to read it!” you hissed, “Now give it back!”

“Ah ah ah! I don’t think so.”

You let out an annoyed groan, going up on your tiptoes to try and snatch the paper out of his hand. “Screw you, Rogers. Why do you have to be so damn tall?”

You jumped up and down in an attempt to get the letter back for several minutes until you finally gave up, arms growing sore. When he towered half a foot above you, it was hopeless.

Your hands landed against his chest as you let them fall and you just stood there for a few seconds, or minutes, maybe, in utter silence, with his warm breath falling against your neck and you hated yourself for wanting this moment to last longer. 

The air was suddenly buzzing with anticipation, like the world was holding its breath to see what was to come next. Steve’s gaze lingered on your lips before he tilted his head downwards, placing a hand on the small of your back and pulling you in for a kiss. 

His lips met your own so softly, so gently that you swore that you were dreaming for a split second, and you let out a sigh as your arms slid around his waist and tightened their grip around him. 

“In case I haven’t made it obvious enough, either,” he hummed, “I’m in love with you too.”

You felt heat rise up your cheeks. “You weren’t supposed to read that!”

“Too bad,” he smirked, resting his chin on your head, “I read it already, three times. You bet I’ll be keeping this for myself.”

“I hate you so much.”

“That’s not what the letter says.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Fine! I love you.”

Steve laughed lightly. “I love you too, Y/N.”

[lynn-writes-things]

I'd like to request Tech and reader being both shy nerds who are too afraid to say that they like the other BUT then they need to share a bed >.> (Bonus if this all leads to some fluffy smut <3 )

Thank you for the request!! Hope you enjoy! <3

Warning: SOFT nsfw at the end

-

You’ve had a bit of a crush on Tech since you first began with the Bad Batch. You found him incredibly interesting, and loved listening to him talk. Unfortunately, you were very shy, and found it nearly impossible to talk to him, let alone confess your feelings. Feelings that you weren’t even supposed to be feeling in the first place- feelings that Tech shouldn’t feel either, and most likely didn’t – you reminded yourself.

But oh, he did. Tech had it bad for you, and his brothers teased him for it constantly when you weren’t around. He loved the way that you were so passionate, so strong-willed and determined to do your best at everything you tried. He admired that about you. You never gave up, even when things didn’t seem to be going your way. Not to mention, he found you absolutely stunning. You were all that he could think about – day in, day out. But, similar to you, he was also rather shy when it came to talking to you. Good thing he had four brothers who were more than willing to help out.

Echo watched in fascination as the boys talked about ways to seduce you – he was shocked anyone could possibly be worse with women than karking Kix and Fives when it came to pickup lines, but low-and-behold…

“Just tell her, ‘baby, you shine brighter than all the stars in the sky.’” Hunter suggested, causing Echo to snort with laughter. Hunter didn’t usually use pickup lines, and it showed. (AN: he doesn’t have to--)

“Don’t tell her that.” He chimed in.

“Buy her flowers, girls like flowers.” Crosshair suggested.

“No!” Echo interjected. “Do you know her? She has allergies!”

“So find hypoallergenic flowers!” He shot back. Echo didn’t know he could facepalm so hard.

“Those don’t exist, di’kuit.” Hunter said, giving Cross’ shoulder a light shove.

“Maybe you should just… Tell her?” Wrecker suggested, causing everyone to look at him in disbelief, short of Echo. “Y/N doesn’t like games, just get straight to the point. That’s not too bad, is it?” He asks, mostly to Echo, who smiles and nods.

“That is a man who knows Y/N.” Echo agreed. So, Tech decided, when you landed and got some time alone, when the mood was right, he’d confess.

-

Except, when you’d landed, you were ushered into separate rooms – everyone got their own room, except for you and Tech, who had to share a room. Most likely at the suggestion of the boys. Once he was alone with you, Tech found that he just… Couldn’t. He just couldn’t talk to you about how much he loved you. He panicked even farther when he realized that there was only one bed in the room…

“So…” You spoke up first.

“So,” Tech sighed. “I can take the floor, if you—"

“No, no!” You’re quick to brush him off. “You can have the bed, I’ll—”

“No, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” He argued.

“So, we’re sharing the bed, then?” You ask with a little giggle at the awkwardness. Tech smiled at your laughter.

“It would appear so.”

-

You start off on separate sides of the bed. And really, you both intended on keeping it that way… or did you?

“It’s kinda cold in here,” You say quietly.

“Yeah,” He agrees. “Do you uh… Want to get closer?” He suggests, mentally slapping himself for the awkward delivery or what could’ve been a smooth line.

“Would that be okay?” You ask timidly.

“Of course.” He says, and so you do. Before long, you get talking, and things get a little less awkward. As the awkwardness subsides, you ask to change positions, so you both could sleep a little more comfortably. You turned on your other side, and Tech curled up behind you.

That, in itself, presented a new problem that Tech had not considered being a possibility – his cock was dangerously close to your ass. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t – oh great. He thought, growing hard already, and trying to get distance between his hips and yours. Only that doesn’t work so well, as you back up in search of his warmth, only to feel something hard up against your ass. Your eyes shoot open, and you can feel your face burning up as you bite at your lip – a nervous habit you couldn’t quite control.

“I-I’m sorry—” He begins, trying to back away again.

“W-Wait,” You cut him off. “You don’t… I mean, uh… If you want, I could maybe help you with that?” You suggest, heart pounding in your chest. You were so nervous you were surprised you could even function.

“You…” He was quiet for a moment, processing your offer. “What did you have in mind?” He asks, not wanting to overstep.

“I really like you Tech,” You begin, the words falling out of your mouth before you could stop them. “If you want to have sex, I uh… I’d be okay with that. I’d be more than okay with that.” You say. Carefully, his hands slide down your side to your hip.

“You’re sure?”

“I am.” You answer, and his hand moves from your hip to caress your face, gently prompting you to look up so he could kiss you. His kiss was hot, and you melted into it with ease, kissing back. It was slow and sensual, and you felt so much from it – you don’t think you’d ever been kissed that way before. He pulls away, and you roll onto your back chasing after him, which was exactly what he was hoping for as he now sits up. He looks down at your bottoms, and you waste little time in kicking them off, sitting up to pull your shirt off. Tech gets busy doing the same, and soon the two of you are sitting in bed naked. Your lips connect again, and your hands find Tech’s shoulders, pulling him down with you as you lay back down. He moves to sit between your legs, and you wrap them around his hips.

“Eager, aren’t you?” He remarks with a teasing smirk.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this.” You laugh breathily. He inserts a finger into your slit, and you whimper at the sensation. His lips find yours once more, and you bite as his lip as he adds a second finger, pumping in and out of you in a slow pace.

“Maybe almost as long as I have,” He says, breaking away from your lips enough to remove his fingers and line his cock up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. You cry out as he enters- he’s bigger than you expected. You clench around him, and he takes it as his cue to start thrusting.

“Y/N,” He says quietly, intimately, his hips slowly thrusting into yours as his fingers find your clit, rubbing slow circles onto your sensitive bud of nerves. “I’ve liked you for so long.” He admits, thrusting particularly deep and hitting your g-spot, causing you to moan loudly, muffling it with the back of your wrist.

“I—” You whine as he hits that spot again. “Tech, I’ve liked you since I first joined,” You pant, already getting close. “I had a crush on you from the first time I saw you.” You admitted, and he leans down to kiss you again. You whine when his fingers speed up their pace on your clit.

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Tech admits, his forehead against yours. “I really do.”

“I think I’m in love with you too, Tech.” You reply. “Maker, I’m so close—” You whimper.

“Where do you want me to come?” He asks, courteous as ever.

“I’m on birth control, you can come inside,” You suggest, and the way his eyes roll back at the idea isn’t lost on you. (A/N: DO NOT!!!!!!!!!! SW birth control is NOT real birth control!!!)

He speeds up only slightly, kissing your lips, your neck, and anywhere else he can reach. His fingers also pick up their pace, and the combined pleasure sends you tumbling over the edge, crying out his name as you come on his cock. He groans into your neck, biting down as he comes deep inside of your aching core.

“I love you,” He whispers as he comes. “I love you,”

“I love you too,” You respond. “I love you so much, Tech.”

The two of you stay like that for a minute, catching your breaths, before he pulls out and collapses next to you. You don’t bother cleaning up, you’re both too tired now. You curl up together, and finally, you both fall asleep.

[blitzturtles]

Title: It Starts Like This, Ch. 3/?

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Golden Wind

Pairing(s): BruAbba, Platonic Bucci Gang

Summary: “I’d ask how you’re feelin’, but I’m guessin’ the answer’s ‘not so hot’?”

Bucciarati hums at him in lieu of an actual response.

Notes: Turns out being dead has a bit of a long term effect. Who would have thought?

This fic got away from me, so I'm breaking it down by character interaction (sort of). This is Mista's part of this very Bucci-centric fic.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

-

Mista is too busy watching a movie from his spot on the living room couch to notice his two new companions until one of them is practically deposited on top of him. He startles but reigns in his reaction when he sees that it’s Bucciarati. He looks like-- ‘hell’ would be putting it nicely. The poor bastard looks like someone put him through the wringer, either before or after running him over with a train.

“What the hell?” Mista asks, looking up at the room’s only other occupant. Abbacchio isn’t looking at him so much as frowning at the back of Bucciarati’s head.

“He had three seizures,” Abbacchio says finally. Bucciarati makes a noise in the back of his throat and flaps a hand uselessly in Abbacchio’s direction.

“Three?!”

“Yeah,” Abbacchio says shortly, “They did it on purpose. I need to--”

“Wait, what the fuck? I thought they were supposed to help!” That’s the whole reason Abbacchio took Bucciarati, right? Giorno had told Mista about it earlier after Abbacchio had apparently stopped by his office for long enough to explain why he was skipping out on work for the day.

Abbacchio pinches the bridge of his nose. Now that Mista’s looking at him, Abbacchio also looks wrecked, but in a different way. Exhaustion shows despite his makeup, and there’s black smudges around his eyes. It’s not significant, but enough that Mista has to wonder if Abbacchio attempted to clean it up after making a mess of it.

“They have to trigger them to-- I don’t know, evaluate them or whatever,” Abbacchio starts for the hallway. “I’ll be back in a minute. Just keep an eye on him.” He’s gone before Mista can respond. His voice has an odd waver at the end of his sentence that gives Mista a good idea of what Abbacchio is up to.

No problem, if the man needs a minute, Mista’s more than happy to keep Bucciarati company.

“I’d ask how you’re feelin’, but I’m guessin’ the answer’s ‘not so hot’?”

Bucciarati hums at him in lieu of an actual response.

“Yeah, thought so,” Mista shifts them so Bucciarati is tucked into his side. He wraps one arm around him, loosely, before letting the Pistols out to find perches of their own. They’re pestering him too much to keep them locked up, and the extra eyes can’t hurt.

They catch onto the situation quickly enough. Five snuggles up against Bucciarati’s neck, half obscured by black curtains of hair. The braid is still absent, which means there’s a lot more to hide in. Mista figures that that’s about where the rest of the Pistols end up, considering the fact that he can’t exactly see them.

As long as they aren’t fighting, Mista’s sure it’s fine.

He turns his attention back to the TV. He had only just started the movie about twenty minutes ago. Giorno had kicked him out of his office, claiming that he needed to focus on paperwork. Mista doesn’t think his presence was the problem, but he gets the nerves. They’re all a little on edge. It’s why he’s got a movie on in the first place. Something to distract himself, but now he has Bucciarati pressed against him. He remembers what Abbacchio said about stimulation the other day and decides to turn down the volume to near silence. He’s only interested in the gun-slinging parts anyway. Mostly so he can judge the accuracy (or lack thereof).

The two remain in silence for well over fifteen minutes before Mista is startled by the sensation of someone petting his head. Only it’s not his head. He glances down to see that Five has come out of his spot to cling onto Bucciarati’s shirt-- Mista takes a moment to appreciate the fact that Abbacchio got Bucciarati to wear something other than a suit in public, but that’s not important. He’s more concerned with the Pistols and what they might be getting up to.

But Bucciarati doesn’t seem bothered as he gently pets Five’s head with two calloused fingers. Five starts chattering away at him almost immediately. Talking about anything and everything. Mista’s cheeks heat up slightly. They don’t have to be so embarrassing, he thinks to himself, but Bucciarati doesn’t seem to mind. Nor does he seem to mind when One and Seven clamor in for their turns.

Mista startles again when he turns his head and ends up face to face with a blue helmet and a head full of spikes. They’re inches apart, and it’s a little unnerving to be stared at by something that he can’t actually meet the eyes of,

“Hey, SF.”

Sticky Fingers reaches past him and extends a hand out to the remaining Pistols. Two and Three climb on, each grasping a finger, while Sticky Fingers settles themselves on the floor, in front of the couch.

It’s a little odd to watch a stand so much larger than his own sit on the ground with their legs crossed, as if that’s totally normal. Mista has a feeling it has something to do with Bucciarati’s current condition. Five is always quick to pop out when he thinks Mista is in danger. Sticky Fingers must feel their user’s distress, and, if petting the Pistols is helping Bucciarati, they might as well join in.

Absently, Mista notes that Six must still be in Bucciarati’s hair.

“I thought I told you to keep an eye on him,” Abbacchio grouches upon his return. His footsteps give him away, thankfully. Mista doesn’t think he can take another shot at his ego. He’s already been startled twice. A third time would be absurd. (A fourth would be catastrophic. He’d definitely have to go check on Giogio with that kind of luck.)

“I am,” Mista says with a half grin, “Got fourteen of ‘em.”

Abbacchio grumbles something under his breath as he approaches. His fingers brush over Sticky Finger’s head carefully, “You know he doesn’t like it when you fuss.”

Sticky Fingers gives him a look that honestly amazes Mista. He doesn’t know how a stand with half their face obscured can be so expressive, much less expressive the level of unimpressed that SF is.

“Yeah, yeah,” Abbacchio pats Sticky Fingers and moves past them to take up the nearby chaise lounge.

Mista takes a moment to look him over. More so than earlier, and he winces. Abbacchio’s eyes are definitely red, despite his newly redone makeup. He must be trying to do his best to hide from Bucciarati. Not that Abbacchio walks around all that often with his face bare, but to take the time to redo his makeup and at least attempt to look like he hasn’t been crying from the stress… Mista feels for him, but he doesn’t know what he can offer.

He’s tempted to give Abbacchio his spot on the couch, so that the two can curl up together, but Bucciarati seems content where he is. Mista’s afraid to move him around too much, plus, Abbacchio isn’t exactly shy about asking (demanding) for something when he wants it.

The trio lapses back into silence. Bucciarati’s seemingly dozed off with two Pistols cupped under his hand. Two and Three join the pile when Sticky Fingers’ form dissipates, apparently recalled to their owner upon his falling asleep.

“They really take a lot out of him, huh?” The seizures, not the Pistols. Mista doesn’t think he has to clarify.

It’s weird to see Bucciarati like this. Two days in a row no less. There have been times-- in the past-- where Bucciarati had worn himself into complete exhaustion, but it’s a rare sort of thing where Bucciarati shows his weakness. Mista’s privileged enough to have seen it only because he’s been Bucciarati’s right hand a countless number of times. Plus, despite how he acts, Bucciarati isn’t that much older than him. He can’t soldier through everything. He has limits, like the rest of them. And trauma. So much trauma. Mista thinks anyone other than Bucci would have suffocated under it all by now.

“They gave him something to help relax his muscles. It’s supposed to help with the seizures, too,” Abbacchio explains, weary eyes flitting across Bucciarati’s form. He looks much more relaxed now, thankfully. Abbacchio doesn’t exactly like seeing his partner this way, but he prefers it to the painful tension that had been there earlier.

Mista frowns, “This all sounds crazy dangerous.”

“It is,” Abbacchio admits, eyes darting away.

“Oh,” Mista looks down at the man curled against him. Right.

“They wanted to admit him.”

“And he said ‘no’.”

“Nailed it,” Abbacchio sighs. “Look, it’s not exactly my place to tell you this, but… his father had seizures, too. One of the bullets,” he motions vaguely. Uselessly. He hates all of this, and he feels like he’s out of his depth, “Nicked his brain. Fugo and I think this is more uh-- he called it an ‘anoxic event’, but anyways. We don’t think it’s a hit that did it, but from when Giorno brought him back.”

“Oh yeah, Giogio said Bucci didn’t wake up when he healed him at the church. He had to do CPR.”

“Yeah, exactly, and it took him a minute. The brain doesn’t like that anymore than a bullet, I guess,” Abbacchio runs his fingers through his hair, only now realizing he never put his headpiece on. He can’t bring himself to care about it now.

Mista nods. That makes sense. He’s had his own head injuries in the past, and they usually throw him for a spin. He couldn’t imagine that being dead did the brain any favors. No blood flow, means no oxygen, and that usually means cellular death. That’s how Giorno explained it, anyways, and it makes sense to Mista

He runs his fingers up along Bucciarati’s arm. A gentle, comforting touch that he hopes isn’t too much. The man needs a break. Maybe they can plan a getaway for him.

“You said they gave him meds. They gonna always do this?” It’s honestly scary to see Bucciarati like this. Quiet and compliant. Mista doesn’t think there would be much protest no matter which way he might turn the man. He won’t. He doesn’t want to hurt him or set off something worse, but it’s disturbing all the same. This isn’t the man they’re used to, and he knows Bucciarati would hate it if he were more aware.

“Depends,” Abbacchio shrugs. He tries to sound nonchalant, but it’s obvious he’s failing, “Everyone responds to different shit differently, but this was more like what they’d give him if he went to the ED.”

It’s a lot to take in. Mista’s starting to get why Abbacchio looks the way he does. He feels completely overwhelmed, and he’s not actually dating the guy. He can’t imagine how Bucciarati is coping with all of this. Stubbornly, but it’s got to be a lot. More than anyone should have to deal with.

“I’d offer to get you something to drink, but I’m kind of pinned down by your partner here. But you look like you could use it. I still have seven sets of eyes… if you want to.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Abbacchio says after a moment. He wouldn’t consider it if Bucciarati were awake, but all he’s doing now is stressing over something that none of them can do anything about. He’s a coward for it, nonetheless. Bucciarati isn’t getting a break from any of this, except for when he’s unconscious. And Abbacchio has spent years trying to quell his tendency to reach for the bottle when life pushes him too hard, yet here he is.

“You’re overthinking it, dude.”

“Shut up,” Abbacchio grumbles as he gets up.

______

One glass easily turns into two, then three. Somehow he loses the bottle before it turns into four. He can’t figure out where to, and that keeps him busy and distracted for a while.

Whatever it takes to get Abbacchio out of his own head, Mista thinks. He teases him a bit, but he’s just relieved that Abbacchio doesn’t look like he’s going to have a breakdown if someone says the wrong thing about the color of his nails.

He doesn’t point out that the bottle is next to him and Bucciarati now. It’s not his own doing, of course. Bucciarati is firmly pressed against him, seemingly more drool than coherency. The Pistols can’t lift it either, at least not in any way that they could have gotten past Abbacchio unnoticed. The only thing that could do that would be the golden shine of a familiar zipper.

The other thing he fails to mention is the way Bucciarati had whispered, ‘shhh’, against him as SF made off with the bottle. It’s a little funny, and Mista’s happy to keep the secret for now. He figures Abbacchio’s good. Prone to drinking more than he needs to, he’s almost as likely to send himself careening back off the mental health cliff if given the opportunity (and enough wine). Right now, he’s perfectly tipsy and distracted.

Abbacchio eventually gives up his search for the bottle-- he never suspects his partner, nor his aptly named stand.

Bucciarati quietly restarts the movie and turns the sound up a bit. He doesn’t feel great, but his thoughts aren’t completely static now, which isn’t to say much about the coherency. There’s a full body nausea that he can’t shake, either, but the medication makes him feel somewhat detached from his body. Enough so that he doesn’t think he’ll be physically sick.

The television catches Abbacchio’s eye after a few minutes, and the man is scoffing almost immediately at some horribly inaccurate detail or another. Bucciarati says nothing, but he smiles in amusement.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Mista when he thinks Abbacchio is too engrossed to notice.

“No problem, Bucci.”

Mista grazes his fingernails over Bucciarati’s arm, a gentle press that feels nice against sore muscles. Bucciarati hums in response, once more grateful for his right hand. He’s not sure what he would do without his team.

[sorryimanon]

A Bit Stir Crazy: Pt 1

Summary: You’re bit of a hot head, so is Bakugou. So what happens when the two of you have to quarantine together for 30 days?

Warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, sexual tension, inevitable smut, slow burn.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader

Spring finally makes it way to the city of Musutafu, which also means spring break is about to commence. There was only two days left of school before the students endure a week break of relaxation and the possibility of illegal drinking. However, the sudden outbreak of a deadly virus isolates you and your best friend of five years , Katsuki Bakugou, to quarantine together. Tensions are high, and so are both of your sex drive.

<<<

It was your second semester here at Hero University, and so far everything was smooth sailing. You’ve been on top of each of your classes, and most of your classmates are pretty much family by now. Of course, no one can replace Kirishima and Katsuki. Those two have been in your life since the second you stepped into Aziwa’s classroom. 5 years of friendship gave them the role of being your protective brothers. Every guy you’ve dated over the past 3 years had to face the wrath of both Kirishima and Katsuki. In most cases, some would find this possessiveness tedious, but you found it quite comforting knowing they are looking out for you. They were also hard on you and your studies, but only because they care for you. Both of them know about your dream of being a combat medic for pro-heroes, considering your energy restoration quirk, so they were extra tough on you.

However, everything came to a halt the day before spring break. You were currently in Advanced Hero History class when the announcement happened. The teacher, mid lecture, put her textbook down and glanced at the speaker above the door.

“Testing...1 2 3... this thing is working right? AHEM, attention students of Hero University, we’ve been told there’s recently been a sudden outbreak of a virus that’s described as deadly as the plaque!” The speakers voice reverberated across the whole academy. He continued,” We want to make sure that everyone is safe and sound and takes precaution of this virus. The board of admissions at HU have decided to cancel classes and all events at the university tomorrow-”

You didn’t get to hear the rest of the announcement. Everyone in the classroom was busy celebrating and screaming at the top of their lungs. Seems like the issue with the deadly virus evaporated immediately. The thought of getting out early for spring break was more important apparently.

Ms.Leech informed the class to still read the assigned chapters and be ready for a test the first day after break.

You quickly shoved everything your messenger bag and made a beeline to the door. The hallways were far from deserted. Usually classes don’t get out at the same time, but today every student occupied the cramped halls in the building.

“Y/N!” Someone yelled amidst the crowd of loud students. You overtly looked around and spotted the all too familiar spiky red hair and angry looking blonde by the exit. You giggled and maneuvered your way over to them.

“Did you hear the announcement! We get an early spring break!” Kirishima giddily said as you guys all walked side by side on the strip to the apartment complex.

“No shit Sherlock, the announcement was broadcasted across the whole school.” Bakugou responded while rolling his eyes.

“I’m so excited though! That means I have more time to study for my exams!” You jumped with excitement.

“Exams? That’s not for awhile you fucking nerd-” Bakugou was cut off when you grabbed a handful of his hair and aggressively pulled it. “YOU SHITTY WOMAN DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR!”

-

Spring break flashed by quickly, leaving only a day left before classes begin again. Thankfully, you seem to have checked everything off your list of things  needed to be accomplished during break. The only thing you had left to do was finish your reading for adv.hero history. 

After an endless hour of reading, you decided to make a hot pot of coffee. When you walked into the kitchen of your shared apartment with Kirishima and Katsuki, you noticed a sticky note hanging from the fridge.

It read, 

Went to go pick up Kirishima from the airport. Get take out plz. The usual

-B.

You smiled and immediately dialed the noodle shop to go. Kirishima used his spring break wisely and went to visit an exotic island with his family. He would FaceTime you and Bakugo occasionally telling funny stories about his time on the island. Although the thought never occurred at the time, you now felt like you wasted your spring break doing boring mundane things. Yes you had Katsuki to accompany you, but he was gone most of the time hanging out with his other friends. Which hurt, granted, but you understand that he has other friends besides you. Needless to say, you didn’t do that much “relaxation” during spring break.

Suddenly, your phone started going off on the countertop. Katsuki’s name flashing on the screen. Confused, you answered his call anyway, not thinking much of it.

“Y/N turn on the news now,” His said with urgency.

You didn’t argue back, knowing something is off, and raced to the living room. The tv was already on, so you just changed the channels till it reached the local news station. With the volume at its maximum, you sat still and listened to the news anchor.

“This just in, Japan has issued a nationwide lockdown due to the spread of the deadly virus. We’ve been told to report for all citizens to please stay in your homes till further notice. And as for anyone who has left the country, you’ll be permitted to stay within the country you’ve flown to and wait till further instructions...”

Oh shit

-

“Hey hey guys don’t worry I’ll be fine. I mean, isn’t this great news! We don’t have to go to our scheduled classes till further notice! Plus, I think I can score my shot with the maid here at my hotel for the time being,” Kirishima gloated with pure positivity.

“Baka. You do realize there’s a fucking virus going around right? Not to mention there’s a possibility you could die from it.” Bakugou said, trying to throw some common sense at Kiri.

“Right right right. Yes I do know...but that’s not going to stop me from getting laid bro.”

That was one of the few FaceTime calls you got from Kiri. After the third, he stopped calling all together. You grew worrisome for your best friend. Even though he doesn’t show it, Bakugou was worried sick not hearing from Kiri either.

It’s been 5 days since the initial lockdown. So far, you and Bakugou have been doing each of your usual routines at home. First thing in the morning you always prepared breakfast and read a few chapters from your current book. Bakugo did laundry duty and did the dishes after breakfast. Afternoon was just recreational duties. Both you and Bakugou would reside in your rooms doing whatever to ease off the bordem. Evenings were mainly for eating dinner and watching movies.

However, after 10 days, you couldn’t keep up with the routine anymore. You skipped breakfast and didn’t dare to open up another book. Your bedroom became a reminder on how much you’ve spent cooped up in there. Not to mention how easily angered you’ve become.

One day you got angry at how Bakugou was chewing his food. Usually it never irritated you, but now the sight just made your blood boil.

“Who the fuck taught you how to eat?” You spat abruptly.

“Says the person who forgets to clean the tub after they shave their whole entire jungle of a body,” he retored back.

A faint gasp left your mouth, uaware that you completely forgot to clean the tub last night after your feminine duties.

“Don’t know who you’re trying to look presentable for. It’s not like you got a boyfriend, not with all that hair, tch.” he hit you with one last punch to the gut.

You got up from where you were sitting at and begrudgingly walked to your bedroom, locking it in the process. Not daring to leave your room, you open your laptop and started a movie without Bakugou.

-

Out of all days, day 15 by far was the worst. The air conditioner unit stopped working, causing y’all to wake up with drenched bodies. Your room especially was humid, since you had no access to a window. The colored coordinated folders from your book bag had to suffice, using them as makeshift fans. Eventually your arms grew tired of constantly doing the same motion repeatedly, so you finally left your room in hopes for the living room to be much cooler.

You stopped immediately when you caught a glimpse of Bakugou slumped on the L-shaped couch. Not to mention, he was shirtless as well. Heat flushed to your cheeks, making you glow a crimson red. You couldn’t stop staring at the view in front of you. Yes you’ve seen Bakugou shirtless before. Countless of times in fact. The boys would practically walk naked around the apartment, not caring about how you’d react. You were deemed as one of the guys.

But this time it triggered something within you. Something you haven’t quite felt in a long time. Maybe it was the quarantine getting to your head, but you couldn’t help but to wonder how it would feel to be flushed against his naked chest right now. Or if he was the type to snake his hands around your waist and pull you even closer. The thought excited you for a second, but quickly realized this was Katsuki you were thinking about.

Katsuki shifted uncomfortably in his spot, eliciting a whimper during the process. The noise alone made your lower stomach tense with a warm sensation. This was creepy. Watching Bakugou shirtless while sleeping would surly make him go ballistic, but the sight of sweat glistening on his abdomen made his abs more prominent. An image of you being underneath him kept flashing in your head like picture show. A crude and undeniably satisfying picture show. More explicit thoughts kept trying to barge into your brain. So, you ran back into your room and planted yourself headfirst on the floor. Hopefully these thoughts will go away by tomorrow

The thoughts never went away. In fact, they were the reason you didn’t get any sleep last night. A half naked Bakugou Katsuki kept interrupting your innocent dreams, filling them in with dirty scenarios involving the both of you. You knew you were fucked once you heard the faint sound of Katsukis footsteps in the kitchen. You’ve been up all night, with no pure dream in mind. There’s no saving your sleep schedule now. Maybe if you apologize to Katsuki for acting irrational the other day, the thoughts would go away.

Defeated, you got up from your comfortable bed and treaded into unsafe territory. There sat Bakugo, criss cross on the kitchen island eating cereal. It wasn’t an unusual sight, he was the embodiment of a fucking cat.

“Morning shit head,” you playfully teased.

Bakugou raised his head and looked expectingly at you.

Even just looking him dead in the eye raised the temperature throughout your body. This is going to be a nightmare.

“You alright Y/N? Your whole face is flushed...” He paused, eyeing you suspiciously. “You’re not sick are you? If so, I’m kicking you out. I don’t wanna fucking die because of you”.

How charming.

You scratched the back of your neck. “Uh no Katsuki, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. My behavior towards you was unacceptable. This whole quarantine thing has really made me-”

“Shut up. No need to apologize for some stupid quarrel we got into. Besides, we’ve gotten into worse arguments right?” 

You nodded your head, agreeing to how truthful his statement was. It was true. 5 years of friendship and not one time have you guys stopped being friends because of a heated argument. 

“Exactly, don’t sweat about it. I’m just glad you finally came out of your hole. I missed my movie buddy.” He gave you a lopsided grin, to which on cue, your stomach tied itself into a knot.

“Great, because I found a movie last night on my queue that I think you’d like” You beamed as you started making yourself a bowl cereal. Katsuki grunted as a response and leaped off from the island. 

You were too busy focusing on making the cereal that you didn’t hear the faint thump of footsteps behind you. Then, almost as some sort of harsh punishment, Katsuki rested his head between your right shoulder blade. He hummed once he felt your body tense up. His lips were merely inches away from your outer ear. Any other movement from him and you wouldn’t hesitate to throw the gallon of milk at his head. But what he said next caused your whole face to turn pallid. 

“Also, its kind of rude to watch someone sleeping don't cha think?” he whispered before throwing his bowl into the sink beside you. 

At that moment you knew, you were completely fucked. 

[lupinlongbottom]

Practically a Weasley pt. 3

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: What could make Charlie’s life more full? He already had a wife he adored, a job he loved and a child who loved him more than the moon and stars. Lunch with his mum isn’t the first idea on his list, that’s for sure. 

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: a couple of swears? but like when isn’t there my dudes

A/N: So like, these are probably like 3 different stories in one, no clear plot. Oops that’s just my brain getting excited at the idea of their child and the Weasley dynamic so idk still cute

Part 1 ... Part 1.5 ... Part 2 ... Epilogue

__

“Charles Septimus Weasley!”

The name echoed through the quaint cottage, volume boasting only what could be rivaled to a howler. Charlie had been anticipating a screech like that all day, quietly enjoying a pot of tea, reading the latest issue of the Quibbler before his wife awoke.

“Yes my flower?” Charlie hummed, eyes not leaving his magazine. The latest headlining story involved a sighting of a new type of mini-dragon, one with invisible wings. They were not lizards, a fact Charlie was sure of.

“I just received an owl,” (Y/N) pointed, hopping down the oak stairs as if it were nothing. “From your brother,” she crossed her arms.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, love. Got quite a few of those,” he took a sip of tea.

“From Bill, the brother who was watching your daughter last night?”

“Oh love, I can’t remember much from last night. Maybe you can jog my memory?” His eyes peeked over the magazine, eyeing his wife up and down. 

“Cheeky,” (Y/N) replied cooly, feeling a slight heat rise to her cheeks. “He said that Kayda had a wonderful time with her cousins, but when it came time to get ready for bed, she didn’t have any pajamas.”

“Oh?”

“You know what she had, though?”

“Not exactly,” he shrugged, flipping the page. “I let her pack her own overnight bag.”

“Did you double check it before you dropped her off?” (Y/N) crossed her arms, all her weight shifting to one side. “You know, considering she’s five?”

“I trust my daughter,” Charlie said, finally setting the magazine down, looking his wife in the eye. “But, to answer your question, it just might have slipped my mind.”

“Funny,” (Y/N) moved over to the table, standing directly over Charlie. “You know, last night, I was wondering why I couldn’t find that little red thing you like,” (Y/N) hummed, tapping her chin. “But Bill made it abundantly clear that Kayda had a very similar ‘night gown’ to wear.”

It took Charlie every ounce of his being to not laugh out loud. “And? You wore the black thing I like even better,” he grinned, pulling his wife onto his lap. “I’m sure Bill was mortified.”

“Charlie, I’m mortified! I don’t need your brother knowing what sorts of intimates I own!” (Y/N) allowed her head to fall into her hands. Charlie wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Flower,” another kiss. “He know’s we fuck. He babysat the evidence last night.”

“Charlie!” (Y/N) slapped his arm, trying to escape her husband’s grip. He tightened his hold. “I’m serious. We have lunch with your mum today! How am I supposed to look anyone in the eye?”  

“Then don’t,” Charlie shrugged, swaying side to side, resting his head on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Try avoiding your best mates once Bill tells ‘em after he drops Kay off,” Charlie laughed, pressing a kiss to his wife’s neck.

“No,” (Y/N) practically sighed. “Fred and George aren’t going to let me hear the end of it,” Charlie pressed another kiss to her neck, this time sucking lightly on her pulse. “Charlie, we shouldn’t…”

“Funny,” Charlie said, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. “You didn’t say that last night. Got out all the candles, busted out the turntable—”

“—we have to leave for The Burrow soon,” she sighed again, leaning into Charlie’s peppering kisses. “I barely have enough time to get ready as it is!”

“Come on, love. You look even more radiant than the day I met you,” He pressed a kiss to her lips, soft and sweet. “We can be quick, considering we took our time last night,” another kiss. “Think of it as an encore presentation.”

(Y/N) laughed, finally releasing herself from her husband’s grip, headed towards the stairs. Charlie focused all too intently as she walked away. “Well?” (Y/N) stood at the end of the stairs, hand on her hip. “You coming?”

__

Charlie and (Y/N) arrived to their planned lunch on time. It only took a quick use of their floo and a careful once over of their appearances to make it to Molly and Arthur’s.

“Charlie! (Y/N)!” Molly exclaimed, practically rushing over to the fireplace to greet her children. With two wet smooches, (Y/N) and Charlie entered the living room. “Oh, Kayda is going to be thrilled that you’ve made it,” Molly said, rubbing Charlie’s cheek. “Sorry, sweetie. Floo powder.”

“Mum…” he hissed, swatting her hand away. “Where is everyone?” Charlie noted, taking a longer look at the living room and kitchen. 

“They’re out playing quidditch, dear,” Molly answered, nodding her head to the back door. “Ginny made time in her busy schedule to be here, so Fred and George have been testing their little sister’s skills.”

“Sounds about right,” (Y/N) laughed, putting a dish on the kitchen table. “Do you have room for a cake, Molly? Charlie and I made one last night,” (Y/N) laughed. “Well, Charlie did most of it, but I added the hundreds and thousands.”

“I’m sure with the lot outside working as hard as they are, they’ll appreciate the treat, it won’t go to waste,” Molly smiled, setting the table. “I think the twins were trying to get little Kay up on a broom, might need her mum’s eye on that.”

(Y/N) groaned. “Peachy. Thanks for the heads up, Molly.”

“(Y/N), hear me out,” Charlie approached, blocking (Y/N) from opening the door to the backyard. “If they let her fall off you take Fred and I’ll take George.”

“Deal.”

The couple walked out to the makeshift quidditch pitch, hand in hand. Only two redheads could be seen flying in the sky, relief leaving their bodies with a deep exhale. 

“Mummy!” A little redhead exclaimed, her chocolate brown eyes meeting (Y/N)’s. She struggled out of Ginny’s lap to run over to her mother, barreling faster than a snitch. Her little arms wrapped tightly around (Y/N)’s legs. “You’re here!”

“I am!” (Y/N) giggled, pulling her daughter up into her arms, kissing her forehead. The softness of her red bangs tickled (Y/N)’s nose.

“Daddy made it too, you know,” Charlie mumbled, fighting back a grin. He pulled his family in for a short hug, enjoying the warmth.

“Hi daddy,” Kayda said, waving to her father lightly, her hand moving in small circles.

“Glad to see you two made it safe,” Ginny laughed, walking over to her brother and his wife. “You just missed Bill.”

“He’s not staying for lunch?” (Y/N) asked. Ginny shook her head. “Amazing,” (Y/N) sighed, setting her daughter down. “He didn’t… share anything about their night last night, did they?”

“No, nothing out of the ordinary,” Ginny hummed, fingers running through her pixie cut. “But Kayda couldn’t stop talking about the dinner that Auntie Phlegm made.”

Kayda’s eyes lit up, a lightning bolt of remembrance hitting her face. “Oh! Mum! Aunt Phlegm made this yummy—”

“Kayda, her name is Aunt Fleur, not Phlegm,” (Y/N) looked at Ginny, who was wearing a proud grin, pride boasting from her chest. “What did Fleur make you?”

“Sorry mum,” Kayda sighed. “Aunt Fleur made dinner with all vegetables! She cut them really, really thin and called it rat-a-patoolie!” 

“Rat-a-patoolie?” Charlie asked.

“You ate vegetables?” (Y/N) asked.

“They were really good, better than your veggies, mum!” Kayda smiled, hands on her hips. “Did you see that I dressed myself?”

“I did,” (Y/N) smiled, noting the bright purple overalls atop of a lime green jumper, not a pair of matching socks in sight. “I heard dad let you pack your clothes.”

“We heard that too,” Fred said, leaning down from his broom, now hovering over his family.

“Bill told us all about it,” George winked, hovering a few meters away from Fred, spinning upside down. “Say, Kay, how were your pajamas?”

“Red!” Kayda exclaimed, jumping lightly.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), Uncle Billy made sure that she wore something else,” Fred cooed. “Mummy’s ‘fun clothes’ are folded neatly away.”

“You both have seven seconds to fly away,” (Y/N) said, pulling her wand out of her sleeve. “Before I do something I regret.”

“I’d listen to her, blokes,” Charlie laughed. “She nearly had my head this morning.”

“Bet she had more than your head this morning,” George smiled, high fiving Fred. The two laughed in the air, circling menacingly.

“Charlie, Ginny, take Kayda inside,” (Y/N) pushed up her sleeves. Charlie nodded and swooped his daughter right up.

“What’re you going to do from down there?” Fred chided, flying higher on his broom. “Last I checked, little (Y/N) isn’t good in the air.”

“Yeah, as long as we’re up here,” George laughed, holding his arms out. “We’re untouchable!”

(Y/N) stood for a moment. This was true, she was never good on a broom, practically cursed the second she sat upon it. It had been years since she tried again.

“Mum’s going to kill you!” Kayda shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. “You’re just scaredy-cats! Come down and fight her like boys!”

“Kayda,” (Y/N) scoffed. “I would never kill your uncles,” she smiled, patting her head. “Seriously injuring or harming them? Fair game.”

“No fair,” Fred yelled. “Using our favorite niece to taunt us?”

“Low blow, (Y/N),” George added.

“She learned that all on her own,” (Y/N) laughed. “Now, do you want to disappoint your little Kay-Kay?”

“Uncle Fred, Uncle George!” Kayda waved, grinning widely. “I wanna see your new toys!” Charlie whispered in his daughter’s ear. “Please?” she pleaded, now corrected by her father.

“Kayda…” Fred groaned, hanging upside down on his broom. “Stop looking so cute!”

“(Y/N), using children like this should be a criminal offense,” George pointed. “Punishable by an unforgivable curse!”

“Charlie?” (Y/N) turned, giving her husband a knowing look. “Time for the big guns.” Charlie nodded, leaning in to whisper to his daughter one more time. 

“Uncle George and Fred?” Kayda asked, batting her brown eyes. “If you won’t come down to play with me, I’ll make Uncle Percy my favorite uncle.”

“Percy!?” The twins screamed in unison, instantly lowering their brooms and landing on the ground below. 

“Go on, (Y/N),” Fred said, getting on his knees. “Take your best shot! We’ll take anything over your daughter’s threats.”

(Y/N) smiled, walking over to the twins, tapping her wand to the tip of her nose. “Rictusempra,” she mumbled, causing the twins to buckle in complete hysteria. She turned around to her husband, still holding their daughter. “Let’s go see what Molly cooked for lunch, yeah?”

__

“Mummy,” Kayda whimpered, pushing her plate away. “I don’t want any carrots.”

“Darling, you’ll hurt your gran’s feelings if you don’t at least try them,” (Y/N) sighed, patting her daughter’s back. The rest of the family had finished eating over 20 minutes ago, Ginny had already left, the twins were outside. (Y/N) was determined to get Kayda to eat one baby carrot, even if it killed her. 

“You won’t hurt my feelings,” Molly piped up, washing the dishes. “Charlie never cared for carrots either,” she laughed.

“Molly,” (Y/N) hissed. “If she can eat Fleur’s ratatouille, she can eat at least one of your carrots.”

“Let me try,” Charlie said, sitting on the chair next to his daughter, cracking his knuckles exaggeratedly. “Kay, you remember going to go see Harriet, right?” Kayda nodded. Harriet was her favorite to visit at the sanctuary, after Charlie of course. “She didn’t used to be as big as she is now, you know why?”

“Because she grew up?” Kayda asked, looking up at her father.

“Well, yes,” Charlie smiled lightly. “But she grew because she also ate her carrots.” Charlie put his hand atop his daughters, holding it gently.

“Dragons don’t eat carrots, daddy,” Kayda laughed, swatting his hand away. “You said Harriet used to eat spinach too! She can’t eat both!”

(Y/N) laughed. “She’s right, Charlie, Harriet couldn’t possibly have eaten both carrots and spinach,” Charlie gave (Y/N) an exasperated look. She shot back a shit-eating grin.

“Tell you what,” Charlie said, picking up a spare fork. “If you eat a carrot, I’ll eat a carrot,” he held back a gulp. “Then you can go and play with Fred and George all you want, okay?”

“You’ll eat a carrot?” Kayda’s brown eyes grew to the size of saucers. She quickly shoved her fork in her mouth, the orange disappearing behind her lips. A few chews and swallow, she grinned. “Your turn, daddy!”

Charlie sat still. “You ate that fast, Kay,” he laughed nervously, tapping the fork lightly to the plate. “Did you think she’d eat it that fast?” He turned to (Y/N). She laughed.

“She’s your daughter,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Stubborn and determined as all hell.”

“As all hell!” Kayda repeated, grinning wildly.

“Kayda,” Charlie groaned. “What did we say about swearing?”

“That mummy and daddy are allowed to do it, but not me,” Kayda sighed, looking down. Her crestfallen expression quickly flipped. “Eat your carrot, dad!” she exclaimed, changing the subject.

“She’s right,” (Y/N) hummed, leaning behind Charlie, wrapping her arms around his chest, head resting on his shoulder. “You’re avoiding the carrot, dad.”

“(Y/N),” he groaned again, feeling (Y/N)’s lips press against his temple. “Carrots are gross.”

“Stop being a baby,” (Y/N) laughed, her hand guiding his to the plate, stabbing a baby carrot with the fork. “You’re setting a bad example for your daughter,” (Y/N) said, holding his hand, now forcing the carrot closer to his lips. 

“What’s in it for me?” Charlie asked, turning his head away from the fork.

(Y/N) smiled, her lips meeting his for a short peck. “The satisfaction of your daughter’s dreams coming true,” another short kiss.

“Please, daddy?” Kayda pleaded, clasping her hands together. Molly grinned from the sink, enjoying the scene before her.

“You have two beautiful girls asking you to eat a carrot, Charlie. There are worse things.” Molly laughed.

Charlie took a deep breath, finally determined to fulfill his promise. With a bated breath, he put the carrot in his mouth, chewing slowly. All eyes were on him, waiting for his final swallow. “There,” Charlie groaned, slamming the fork down. “Are you all happy?”

“Yeah, I am,” Kayda said, dropping down from her chair. “Gran, can I be excused?” Molly nodded. “I’m going to go play with Uncle Fred and George!” 

“You did it,” (Y/N) laughed, rubbing Charlie’s back. “You ate a carrot without vomiting,” she grabbed Kayda’s plate, finally turning it into the sink.

“And they say love is dead,” Charlie said, wiping his mouth. “I can’t believe Kayda actually ate a carrot. I was almost certain she would throw a fit.”

“You underestimate our daughter, sometimes.” 

“Maybe so,” Charlie groaned. “She just holds such a power over me, (Y/N),” he shook his head. “I better go make sure Fred and George don’t use Kayda as a test subject or something.”

“A doting father never rests,” (Y/N) laughed. 

“You know,” Molly said, turning from the sink. “I never thought I’d see the day where Charlie was under the complete mercy of a little girl,” she laughed, pulling her greying hair out of her bun. “Besides Ginny, of course.”

“Children change people,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Changed me a bit. Kayda gives me more than enough inspiration for new books. I reckon I could pump at least two or three more out just thinking about it.”

“Children?” Molly asked excitedly.

“What?” (Y/N) felt her cheeks heat up, realizing what she had just said. “Oh, Godric no! I reckon one’s enough. I was talking about my books, Molly.”

“You never thought of having another one?” Molly sat at the kitchen table, summoning a pot of tea. “Children are a blessing, you know.”

“Charlie and I never talked about it,” (Y/N) shrugged. “I know Kayda wants a little brother, asked for one last Christmas. But Charlie’s so busy at work, I’m practically locked in my study every hour of the day now that Kay’s at school…”

“Last I remember, you and Charlie didn’t talk about having Kayda,” Molly hummed. “Come to think of it, you didn’t exactly talk about marriage either. You’re a very spontaneous lot, the two of you,” she smiled, sipping from her mug. “I know it’s none of my business, but I would adore another grandchild.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Molly,” (Y/N) said, forcing a small smile. “It’s just, our life is just so perfect the way it is, you know? I have a husband who loves me unconditionally, an angel of a child and a career I love. I’m just afraid—”

“That a new baby is going to ruin it?” (Y/N) nodded her head. “Did I ever tell you about when I had Bill? Arthur and I had the same conversation about having Charlie.”

“You did?”

“Children bring joy, (Y/N). I’m sure you know that with Kayda. I’m sure Charlie knows, too.”

“You seem a bit biased,” (Y/N) smiled.

“I am,” Molly laughed. “I just can’t wait for more grandkids! I’m up to four now, quite the collection.”

“I’ll try talking to Charlie, see where his head is at,” (Y/N) stood up, hearing a loud crash from outside. “Didn’t Fred mention at lunch that they were working on a new dungbomb?” Molly nodded. “I didn’t realize becoming a mother meant I had to babysit my best mates and husband, too,” she sighed, enjoying the jovial laughter Molly sprung from the kitchen as (Y/N) went outside.

The scent was excruciating, swelling into (Y/N)’s senses. The culprits, (Y/N) deduced, were laughing like maniacs. The sweet bell-like sound of her daughter’s laugh was sprinkled into the mess.

“Mummy! Do you smell that?” Kayda laughed, calling from George’s lap, his arm wrapped lovingly around her. “Uncle George farted!”

“Did not!” George said, looking down at his niece. “I thought that was you!” Kayda’s laughter rang out again, shaking her head wordlessly. “Maybe it was Fred?”

“Oi! Maybe it was the dungbomb?” Fred asked, pointing to the exploded fragments a few meters away from the group.

“Can’t even go along with Kay-Kay’s joke? What kind of comedian are you?” George asked, glaring at his twin. “Honestly, I don’t even know you anymore.”

“Where’s Charlie?” (Y/N) asked, realizing that her husband wasn’t around.

“He’s out flying,” George said, thumb pointing to the pitch. “We convinced him to—”

“—blow off some steam while we had some quality time with the greatest product tester,” Fred ruffled Kayda’s bangs, eliciting a grin from the girl.

“What did you say to him, exactly?” (Y/N) asked, knowing full well that Charlie wouldn’t have just left their daughter in the hands of the twins for too long.

“Oh nothing…”

“Just maybe that his quidditch skills are dwindling every second he spends off of a broom…”

“The fact that also his little sister is dominating in the quidditch world and out-shining him as the ‘Weasley star’…”

“Alright,” (Y/N) said, holding her hand up. “I’m going to find my husband, don’t let Kayda eat anything funky, okay?” (Y/N) turned to the pitch, walking away.

“Is a ‘face pickling fudge’ considered funky?” George shouted, ignoring the finger (Y/N) was proudly flashing for him.

(Y/N) looked to the sky, watching Charlie zoom through the various hoops on either end of the field with ease, as if he had been born on a broom. The wind breezed through his hair, blowing it back. Charlie noted his audience, lowering almost instantly.

“No helmet?” (Y/N) laughed, kissing Charlie as he dismounted. 

“Seekers don’t wear helmets, love,” Charlie said, combing through his hair. “Besides, you love the wind-swept look.”

“I do,” (Y/N) hummed, kissing her husband again. “For someone who claims to never fly at work, you were pulling those stunts off pretty easily,” (Y/N) noted, tracing her finger in a loop.

“I didn’t say I never fly,” Charlie said, laughing lightly. “But flying for fun and flying away from an angry dragon are two completely different things, flower.”

“Maybe,” (Y/N) agreed. “Why don’t you fly more around the house? Kayda would love to watch you.”

“You know how you are on a broom, love. The second Kay sees me fly around, she’ll want you to join. I’m just avoiding that disappointment.”

“Disappointment?” 

“When Kayda figures out that her mum’s a wussy,” Charlie beamed, fully expecting the slap to the side he had received. “You know I’m right!” 

“Kayda knows that I’m shit on a broom,” (Y/N) said, crossing her arms. “I know how badly you want to get her on one, but we agreed—”

“Stop talking, (Y/N),” Charlie said, hopping back onto his broom, holding his hand out. “Get on the broom.”

“Are you kidnapping me to make a point?” (Y/N) laughed, pointing an eyebrow upwards at the notion.

“Wouldn’t call it a kidnapping,” Charlie said, offering his hand again. “Don’t you want your child to know you’re not a wussy? If I can eat a carrot for our daughter, you can ride on a broom for her too.”

“I failed flying class at school—”

“I didn’t,” Charlie said, taking his wife’s hand, pulling her up onto the stick. She sat behind him, holding onto his chest tightly. “I’m the one flying this broom, yeah?”

“Charles Weasley if you do any funny tricks, I swear on my own life—”

“What? I can’t hear you!” Charlie shouted, swiftly lifting into the air, pointing to his ear. “The wind!”

“Shut your mouth, Charlie!” (Y/N) screamed, clinging to her husband tighter as the ground below became smaller and smaller. “You can hear me perfectly fine!”

Charlie stopped, floating midair, The Burrow the size of an apple below them. “Love, there’s no need to shout,” he said, turning his head slightly, a grin stretched to his face. “I’m right here.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” (Y/N) said, burrowing her face into Charlie’s red jumper.

“Aim for one of the twins, would you? I overheard them scheming to put different prank supplies for Kayda in her bag before we leave,” he laughed. “Besides, you’re the one who gave me this jumper, I quite like it.”

“I guess it’s not so bad from up here…” (Y/N) said, taking another look at the ground.

“Of course not,” Charlie laughed, causing (Y/N)’s arms to bounce. “You’re with your favorite person, your husband, whom you trust I hope?”

“Kayda’s my favorite person,” (Y/N) said simply. “You’re up there, though."

“I could flip this broom around right now and you have the audacity to say that your daughter is your favorite person?”

“Hey, she’s our daughter. Last I checked it took the two of us to make her,” (Y/N) laughed. “I can be a bit of a narcissist and say that my favorite person is a perfect mix of my other favorite person and myself, right?”

“Perhaps,” Charlie said, flying slowly around the grounds, gently elevating and dipping every so often. “She’s pretty perfect.”

“Do you want another?” (Y/N) blurted, not even realizing what she had said. 

“What?”

“Molly said something after lunch that had me thinking—”

“Yes,” Charlie said simply. “Of course I want another.”

“You better not be pulling on my leg, Charles Weasley.”

“I’m serious,” Charlie laughed. “I know my mum planted that seed in your head—obsessed with her grandchildren, that one—but understand that I’d be open to having another.”

“Open?”

“Like you said, love,” Charlie began to fly closer to The Burrow, watching Kayda jump enthusiastically below. “It takes two,” he shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love nothing more than to try day and night—”

“I get the picture,” (Y/N) laughed, her face surely growing pink. “I’m not entirely sure I want another, honestly. We didn’t plan Kayda, but I’m so happy she’s in our lives…”

“So maybe we don’t plan?” Charlie shrugged, turning his head again. “Maybe we just continue our weekly routines—a little less carefully—and accept whatever is to come of it?”

“We’re quite against planning anything, aren’t we?” (Y/N) said, loosening her grip on Charlie, finally growing used to the height.

“Speaking of, we didn’t use any—”

“—this morning? No. No we did not,” (Y/N) laughed. “An oversight.” (Y/N) pressed a soft kiss to the back of Charlie’s shoulder, leaning fully onto his back. A husband who loved her, friends closer than brothers and a child who lit up her waking days? Maybe another wouldn’t hurt.

Right?

__

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy , @steve-thotgers , @greeneyedthief

Charlie Weasley Tag List: @sungoddessra , @phantom-pheonix , @dccomicnerd-world , @marveltrash99 , @graymountaingal, @storiesbycaroline, @mytinybaguette , @garbdump , @utahjoerdis , @eldritchscreech , @fiiiinewine

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with!

[shiny-procrastinates]

(re)Watching Magia Record S1 - part 1

Hello and welcome everyone to the first post on this watch-along commentary of the first season of Magia Record! Whether you are just now watching it for the first time, or are re-watching in preparation for the second season, or have only played the game and are curious about the anime (in which case I'd be surprised you even exist) I hope you can have some fun reading these ramblings as I try to put my thoughts into words  (actually turned more into narrating the show) throughout all 12 13 episodes.

Before we can get to it, though, I have a few warnings to give:

1 - As much as I'd love to be able to memory swipe so I can watch this fresh all over again, such an ability is sadly still beyond my grasp. In other words, this isn't my first time watching (or second, for that matter; more like the sixth… or seventh…). That being the case I can't claim that these are my first impressions and it's very likely this commentary will be somewhat biased by my previous knowledge. However, I can guarantee one thing: I will do my best to keep this spoiler-free, so you don't have to worry if this is your first time watching.

(I will, however, be assuming that you have watched the OG series and Rebellion, so beware of that).

2 - Please don't come into this expecting it to be Madoka 2

Also no, this is not a continuation of the OG, it’s an alternate universe spin-off.

This one's for first-time viewers.

Well, ok, this sounds like vague tweeting and I'm kind of whining here, but I have seen a number of peeps on the internet saying that Magia Record is bad only for their argument to boil down to "because it isn't OG Madoka!"

Yeah it isn't. I'm pretty sure there's "Side Story" written somewhere in the title too.

Leaving aside the matter of nostalgia glasses and whether the original series was that much of a masterpiece or not (it's been over five years since I last watched it, so I can't say anything either way.) it seems kind of weird to me that someone would bash a spinoff on the grounds of how close it is to the original. Because here's the thing: to me, the whole point of spinoffs is taking an already existing scenario and putting a spin on it to make something new. That's exactly what makes them fun!

MagiReco didn't need to be a Madoka clone or to try hard and beat the original. That would probably have made it bad, actually. What it did need to do was to create an interesting story using the world set up by the OG Madoka and the other spinoffs, and that, in my opinion, it did, so I hope people can give it a chance and judge it on its own merits rather than only compared to the original. I'm not saying you can't hate it, either, I myself have my own problems with it, it's just that I want to see more reasonable reasons than "it's not the OG so it's bad".

3 - As you can probably already tell from these warnings, these posts are bound to get looong, so I'd recommend setting aside a fair amount of time and getting real comfy if you're gonna read it all. I also don't mind if you just skip ahead and only read the interesting parts, I'm not the internet police.

3.5 - I don't want to use it as an excuse, but I think I should make it clear that English is not my native language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes and awkward/stilted text. It's hard to tell by myself, so feel free to correct me if you find something.

SO, with that out of the way let’s get down to what’s really important:

Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record Episode 1

Whew, now that’s a mouthful.

You know, in my mind I always thought a “side story” was something that happened alongside a “main story”, like another POV, so I’m not sure that’s the most appropriate title, but who am I to judge?

So here we go, we’re off with some beautiful futuristic scenery already, that’s the Madoka series I know.

As the classic Sis Puella Magi plays in the background, two unseen narrators tell us the tale of the so called “magical girls” as we are shown the reality of being one, meeting our first witch for this series.

Risking your life to save a cat doesn’t seem like the smartest of things. Rather, witches eat cats? That’s mean.

No, you really, really don’t. This narration definitely seems made to make everyone who saw the original say this, particularly with how silly are the wishes these girls suggest. 

And hey, look, even this girl who supposedly had her wish granted doesn’t seem very happy.

Hang in there, this is only the first episode.

Man, this scenery really is pretty though.

After an exciting fight with a witch in the train, our girl here silently goes home to find

Whatever the heck this is.

So, our girl here seems to be having strange visions whenever she enters her room, that is very very suspiciously cut exactly in half. Protagonist, you sure have an unique sense of interior decoration.

She goes on with her day, makes two lunchboxes and… oh, it seems she’s all alone.

Is this something you should be telling your own daughter?

Long story short, Iroha’s parents are abroad right now (as is suspiciously the case with many a anime protagonist parents). I actually love the parallel this scene draws with OG Madoka: whereas Madoka’s parents seem responsible and Madoka even looks up to her mom and they’re a happy united family, Iroha comes off as being the responsible one in her family and her parents are gone from the get-go. This way, the lonely atmosphere of the previous scene also starts making sense.

So, it seems like there’s something Iroha wants to do here, and that’s why she decided to stay behind.

Perhaps. Did you wish to save a black cat?

Wow, this teacher is speaking fast. Calm down lady, we’re not here to speedrun the content, geez. Though I guess we should be happy she’s at least giving a proper class, unlike a certain other teacher…

Oh great, it's this guy.

Ok, Iroha doesn’t remember what she wished for and Kyuubei doesn’t know either, although he knows she used her wish for the sake of someone. Kyuubei theorizes that the reason she doesn’t remember might be that not remembering was part of her wish, but Iroha doesn’t think she’d wish for that. I don’t think you’d ever think to wish for something like that until you had to wish for something like that though.

She’s got a fair point. After all, wishing in this universe is basica— the heck is going on in the background there?! O-kaaay…

Iroha was having a weird think-spot mental conversation with Kyuubei there, and missed speedrun teacher’s lecture entirely. Being meguca is suffering.

We get some school motto propaganda, and now we’re on the roof. Oh? Where did all the friendship stuff from the propaganda go? Seems like Iroha’s not following the school spirit. Unless she considers the white weasel a friend, so that’s why she gave him her extra… wait, Kyuubei can EAT? I thought he was some alien machine-like being. H-Huh...

Classmate A: Tamaki-san, maji tenshi!

She’s probably just shy. According to her classmates, Iroha used to be busy doing something or the other, but no one can remember what that is.

Cute. 

But maybe don’t do that somewhere someone could easily walk in on you, Iroha.

Iroha gets a call by the girl from the combat scene from before, whose name is Kuroe. I couldn’t tell from their conversation if they’ve known each other for a while or if they just met each other for the first time in the fight before.

On the train, although she’s the one who called her over, Kuroe remains silent. Iroha, clearly uncomfortable, tries her best to make conversation. Poor Iroha, I know the feeling.

We learn from her that the number of witches around has been decreasing. She comments that being unable to get Grief Seeds is troubling, but it’s better than having witches causing trouble. Poor girl has no way to know just how much of a bad news it is running out of Grief Seeds.

What’s with pink-haired girls and lacking self-esteem? Iroha, are you sure you didn’t wish to save a black and forget that you did? You did save a white one just before.

Kuroe finally decides to talk, and she tells us this:

If you go to Kamihama, you’ll be saved. To anyone that saw the OG, the first thought that comes to mind is that they’ll be saved from their destiny of turning into witches, but it seems Kuroe doesn’t know the truth yet. She just doesn’t want to fight witches anymore. I think.

The train lights up, and…

...this is extremely unsettling considering the truth about witches and the conversation they’re having right now. There’s a lot of this, but this just hits different having watched the original.

Iroha’s not inclined to believe what Kuroe’s saying. Of course, despite not remembering her wish, she’s the type that’s happy with fighting witches if she can save someone, and Kuroe’s not being very convincing either. The whole thing is apparently a rumor spread by some girls who saw a dream that told them that.

Except that Kuroe actually had the dream too.

Like most magical girls, Kuroe made a short-sighted wish, and regrets it. She now wants to be saved, so she’s going to Kamihama.

...or she was, but before that, they’ll have to defeat the witch they let escape the other day, ‘cos she’s back for more.

I actually have so many questions about this scene. Weren’t Labyrinths pocket dimensions? How come this one’s moving in physical space? We know witches themselves move and their Labyrinth goes with that, but I thought it was more, like, the entrance to the Labyrinth moves. Then how come witches can escape if magical girls get carried with their Labyrinth when they move…? Just... just... what?

The answer to all of that is probably “magic”.

Like that, Express Witch Labyrinth crashes right into what seems to be a train station. Labyrinths don’t have brakes, confirmed.

Brutal.

Looks like it’s not only magical girls who have territorial disputes going on. Although it’s nice that they won’t have to fight two witches at the same time, this is not exactly a relief when you consider these two were already struggling with the previous one, and this one just ripped it apart like crab.

As expected, Iroha’s arrows do no damage at all. When all seems lost…

A wild singing mini Kyuubei appears! Is this a shiny?

The singing Kyuubei distracts the witch and jumps towards Iroha, who uses her pro white cat catching skills to grab it, and… something happens. Whatever this Kyuubei did, Iroha’s having some flashbacks now. Sadly, the middle of a battle isn’t the best time to be having a BSOD and, despite Kuroe’s attempts to snap her out of it, they’re sitting ducks right now, a black and a white one.

Thankfully for them, though, they’re not alone in this barrier. This mystery blue haired girl spams flying spears and makes short work of the witch Iroha’s arrows didn’t even scratch earlier. She’s clearly at a whole ‘nother level.

Also, chibi Kyuubei’s gone. Totally not suspicious. Nope. Not at all.

So, from this OP miss get-the-heck-out-of-my-territory, who didn’t even bother saying her name, we learn that not only there is no salvation in Kamihama, there are more, stronger witches, and there are currently no Kyuubei. She gives them the Grief Seeds from the two witches before, and passes on a warning to them. Not the friendliest of magical girls. Though if you consider what happens when you run out of Grief Seeds, one could understand why it’d be undesirable having too many magical girls in the same place.

With this, Iroha and Kuroe take the train back to their town and things are totally awkward again.

Welp, seems like Kuroe doesn’t want to chat anymore, so we’ll have a dream sequence instead.

Forgive my lack of words, but this scene doesn’t need them. This is just… you couldn’t ask for a better representation of what being a magical girl wishing for salvation is like. Everyone has their own reasons, but in the end, having known despair, these girls are desperately clinging to this last hope called Kamihama. It’s almost a pilgrimage.

“Let’s go to Kamihama. We’ll be saved there”

And in the midst of all that is the mysterious girl from Iroha’s dreams.

(the track here, Paradero de Memoria, is also great btw)

Now, with various wishes written all over in the background, we get Kyuubei’s spiel about magical girls. I think this is word-by-word the same from the original too.

We now get to finally know what our protagonist’s wish was.

So Iroha wished to cure her younger sister’s illness, but the sister in question is now nowhere to be found. Worse: everything related to her is gone. Even Iroha, who made a wish for her sake, didn’t remember her existence until now. Oh man, that’s no normal disappearance. What happened? Guess that’s what Iroha will have to find out now.

With that, we conclude the first episode of Magia Record(’s s1)!

This is a really strong first episode in my opinion. It decently introduces our protagonist, sets up the mysteries we will be dealing with from here on and also manages to trace connections with the original, while using the viewer’s previous knowledge to give a whole different impression to some scenes. You wouldn’t be like “hell no” at the rumor there at the start if you didn’t know the truth about magical girls, and I doubt that final scene would hit that hard either. It’s just really good at this and it’ll continue doing that from now on. I love it.

Speaking of the final scene, me having watched the original over five years ago might also be part of it but that is really my favorite scene in Madoka overall. I just really really love that scene. (Seriously, I’ve watched this scene so many times I know it by heart now. Help.)

Alas, I lied, the episode’s not over yet, we still have our classic anime first episode ending-opening to watch. So let’s listen, to Gomakashi:

This logo’s real pretty.

So yeah, pretty standard anime opening. If you pay attention, there are some references to Connect too, what with the selfcest and whatnot. Although I managed to mistake this when I first watched, this one’s actually sung by the trio TrySail rather than ClariS. That’s the VAs for Iroha, Asakura Momo; Yachiyo (the get-out-of-my-territory girl), Amamiya Sora and Natsukawa Shiina, whose character we’ve yet to meet. TrySail has a lot of cool songs, so do check them out if you haven’t already. (free ad)

This time, in fact, the episode is over! Whew, I did say this was going to be long, but not even I thought it’d be this long. By the time this is posted I should have a backlog of these, so my plan is to post one everyday until we are done. I hope you had fun reading this here rant and I’ll be looking forward to meeting you guys again tomorrow, same place, maybe same hour, so we can go on and watch episode 2 together!

(P.S.: I am considering doing a series of posts at a later date comparing the anime to the game, but we’ll see. The first few chapters are fine, but the game is stupidly long, so I feel it’d take a lot of motivation and stamina I’m not sure I have at the moment. There’s also the possibility watching the first arc again would bring back my yt copy-apocalipse grief back and that’d suck, definitely don’t wanna go through that again.)

[champagne-bucky]

The Undoing: Five

Summary: The truth about a past life is unveiled.

Warnings: THIS IS A DARK STORY!! dark! Steve Rogers x reader, kidnapping, non con and dub con (or at least mentions of), dark! Bucky Barnes, Stockholm syndrome, grooming, mentions of pregnancy termination and suicide mentions (for one chapter), possibly more tags to be added!

Notes: Hey, hey!! enjoy Chapter 5 and let me know what you guys think!! Enjoy :)

Please Read Warnings!!

Ahh, first day of senior year. The last year before Sasha heads off into college, one step closer to the real world. Sasha has been dreaming of this day for so long.

As a child, she was always an ambitious little genius (as her father would refer to her as). Always got good grades, never missed a day of school (one time she threw a tantrum over a head cold that her mother insisted she stayed home for), and never once skipped a class. Her homework was never late and she was well over prepared when it came to tests in class. She even did well on the PSATs! Needless to say her father and mother were both proud of the little genius.

“You remember the rules right?” Her father said.

“Yes, dad,” Sasha rolled her eyes which produced a scolding from her father.

“I’ll be outside at 3:15 to pick you up. Don’t take the bus, don’t go home with anyone, don’t walk home-”

“Dad, I know, you’ve been telling me these rules for, like, 100 years now. I think I understand,” Sasha grabbed her bag and got out of the car.

“I know, honey. I just want to make sure you're safe. This world has gotten too crazy and I just want to protect you,” Steve put his hand on her shoulder.

“I get it, dad, you’re doing all you can to make sure nothing happens to us, but I promise you I’ll be okay here. It’s my last year here anyways, what are you gonna do when I go away to college?” Steve gulped. He isn’t ready for that conversation yet.

“Remember 3:15 and not a minute late,” Steve ushers Sasha out of the car.

“Okay, by love you,” Sasha jumps out of the car.

“Love you too.”

__

Sasha took a deep breath as she exited the bathroom at school. She needed a way to calm herself down before she had an anxiety attack. Yeah, she was a smart girl, almost top of her class, but she was very lonely. Every high school has a “clique” like she’d seen on TV, but television never thought to teach her about the lonely outcast who had no friends.

That was her. Sasha didn’t have friends here. She tried to make them, but what was the point if she was only allowed to see them in school. Her father didn’t trust anybody he hadn’t met first.

“Friends” came and went and overtime Sasha earned the reputation of “the nobody”. She was just a forgettable face to the other kids here. No one really bothered to talk with her and she didn’t bother to talk to them. However, she often found herself daydreaming what it would be like to have a group of friends… or just one friend she wasn’t picky.

“Hey, hey, Rogers!”

Oh God

“Hello, Ned,” Sasha held back her groan as the cheery student made his way to her.

“So just thought I’d let you know that Decathlon is meeting every Wednesday after school for meetings. You gonna join this year?”

Every. Fucking. Year.

It’s either Ned or Mr. Garber that’s been on Sasha’s ass since the freshman PSATs results came back and she scored extremely high. Both were too persistent and Sasha always ended up telling them no. She would always make up some lie or promise to join and just never show up. Secretly she wanted to join, but she knew her father. Steve would say no before she even thought about asking him.

“Ned, what has my answer been for the last three years?”

“No, but-”

“And what do you think my answer will be for this year?”

Ned looked at Sasha for a moment. He knew the answer, but he made a promise to Mr. Garber that this year would finally be the year they get her to join the team. If Sasha joined then that meant they could finally win the National Decathlon for the first time in the school’s history.

“Okay, okay, I know it’ll be a no, but can’t you just come to one meeting. If you just got to know us and know the club I'm sure you’d really like it.”

“Ned, I’m sorry but I can’t! I-uh I work now. Gotta save up some money for college,” Sasha bit her lip.

“You’re lying,” Ned pointed at her lip, “you always bite your lip when you’re trying to lie!”

“How can you-”

“I’m very observant,” Ned’s eyes went wide.

The bell rang and Sasha let out a breath and relief. At least she got a break from him now.

“I’ll see you in AP Physics! Don’t forget we meet every Wednesday after school!” How did he know they had class together?

__

The day had droned on as Sasha made her way to all her classes. She had a majority with Ned, who wouldn’t stop badgering her about decathlon, and she had a few alone. Physics was her last class of the day and she couldn’t have been more relieved. This day was so boring considering they were just going over the syllabi for each class.

For lunch, Sasha went to her usual spot which was located behind the curtains of the auditorium. No one ever came back there and there was no one that would ever look for her. It was a nice getaway from all the students. The auditorium was quiet and dark, she felt almost at peace in her little safe space.

“Ms. Rogers, how was your summer?” Sasha groaned internally as Mr. Garber greeted her. He was already drumming up a pitch to sell her on decathlon.

“It was good Mr. Garber, got a job that keeps me pretty busy,” she tried to emphasize, but she knew it would go right over his head.

“Well that’s nice, please take your seat behind Mr. Parker and we can get started.”

Sasha made her way to her seat and sat down. She was surprised that Peter, Ned’s friend, didn’t abruptly turn around and talk to her. He had also been an instigator alongside Ned, just not as annoying though.

The bell rang and class had begun. Of course, Mr. Garber wanted to do icebreakers which resulted in Sasha getting paired with this girl, MJ. MJ was just like Sasha, but only a little more brazen. MJ got involved in decathlon and had a small group of friends as a result of it, but before she joined MJ was an outcast just like her.

As soon as class began it ended. Mr. Garber liked to let his students go a little earlier so that they could beat the hallway traffic. However, before Sasha could make her way out the door she was stopped by the call of her name. She turned around and approached Mr. Garber’s desk.

“Sash, I really would like it if you thought decathlon through,” he began.

“Listen Mr. Garber, I appreciate your reaching out to me over these past couple of years, but I just can’t join.”

“Sasha, you have one of the best test scores at this school. You are so close to being Valedictorian for graduation too. Every teacher that I’ve talked to that you’ve had in the past says that you are so bright. Why won’t you just consider it,” he pleaded with her.

“Mr. Garber, I’m sorry but it’s not up to me. If I could join I would, but I can’t! I have a lot on my plate with stuff at home and a job to help me out for college. The timing just isn’t right,” Sasha blurted is all out to Mr. Garber. Both were in shock at Sasha’s tone, but before Mr. Garber could respond, Sasha ran out.  

__

Sasha walked out of the building and past her locker towards the front of the school where her dad was parked. He always showed up early to beat out the traffic coming into the school. Steve was surprised to see his daughter outside before 3:15, but didn’t question her as she got in the car.

“How was the first day back?” Steve asked as he drove off.

“It went great. Um, I’m in all AP and honors classes again this year, I have a good lunch break, I like all my teachers. So, things at school are pretty much how they always are,” Sasha told him.

The ride home was just a bunch of school related conversations. Steve and Sasha didn’t really talk about anything else besides education. Steve was proud of Sasha and how great she was doing academically. His daughter would make a great addition to the world with her brain, but he knew that he couldn’t risk letting her go.

Back at home Sasha’s mother was already putting dinner on the table. Since Sasha went off the school, Gwenyd stepped up to help out. She didn’t mind being homeschooled because she actually liked to cook, clean, and help out around the house. However, she often did wish she could've followed in her older sister's footsteps.

“Sasha, Sasha! How was school? You have to tell me all about it,” Gweynd left her mother’s side and came up to her sister.

“You girls can talk about it while you help your mother out with setting the table,” Steve said to them as he went to greet his wife.

Dinner was always early and followed by a delicious dessert. Sasha’s mother didn’t go out that much so she prepped dinner early and then helped the other children with homework. Sasha admired her mother and all the hard work that she does for the family. Sasha feels guilty sometimes though, she wishes that she could also help her out, but her father insisted that she stopped playing house and go to school. She never understood that.

During dinner, Steve kept getting an annoying amount of phone calls. They weren’t from Bucky seeing as he would be at work until later, so Steve was just letting them go to voicemail. Around the 5th time however, Steve decided to answer the phone.

“Who is this?” He said annoyed.

“Hi, um, Mr. Rogers I presume? This is Philip Garber from Fair County High School. I wanted to talk to you privately with regards to your daughter, Sasha?” Steve was confused and quickly excused himself to his office.

“I was wondering if we could-”

“Why have you called me?” Steve cut him off.

“Oh, well you see I was wondering if you could help me in convincing Sasha to join one of our most prestigious clubs at the high school,” Steve was confused. Sasha knew the rules, why did she think he would even make an exception.

“I’m sorry but-” Mr. Garber cut him off.

“I understand that Sasha has a lot on her plate, but you don’t understand how much academic decathlon could help her! Sasha is one of the most brightest children we have at the school and we would be so honored if she joined the team,” Mr. Garber was noticeably nervous on the other end of the line. He was trying his best to convince Steve.

“I really don’t appreciate you calling me while I’m in the middle of a family dinner,” Mr. Garber stuttered out his next words as Steve’s voice cut through the line.

“I apologize, Mr. Rogers.”

“Sasha will have no time for after school clubs. She has to focus her attention on more important things,” Steve spoke.

“Yes,” Mr. Garber cleared his throat, “I too was in a predicament as well as your daughter. I was working two jobs in high school so that I could save up for college. I feel her pain, I really do. However, if you could convince her to join the club think of the amazing opportunities she’d have! Colleges from all across the country watch these decathlon competitions. This could mean scholarships, recruitments-,” Mr. Garber was abruptly cut off.

“Sasha isn’t going to college,” Steve had to think of his next words very carefully.

“That’s not-,” Mr. Garber was cut off again.

“Sasha and I had made an agreement that she would take a year off of school and accept a well paying job with a family friend of ours. It would be a waste of time for her to join a team that could promise her something that she won’t need to use. Thank you for your time, Philip was it? But I need to go now,” Steve hung up the phone before Mr. Garber could get another word out.

Mr. Garber didn’t want to say anything, but Sasha had mentioned not only to him, but to Ned as well that she had a job for college. Was that all a lie? Did she not want to join because she didn’t want to get her hopes up? Does her father not know that she has a job?

So many unanswered thoughts popped into the teacher’s head as he rubbed his temples. He needed Sasha for this team. Mr. Garber wanted her to join more than anything. Even if they didn’t win Nationals, at least Sasha would have the opportunity to make some friends. Mr. Garber knew that she didn’t talk to many people. He also knew she ate lunch alone, but wouldn’t tell anybody. He knew how hard it was to be alone.

He had to do something. Something that could help Sasha out. He could leave her out to dry.

__

The next day Sasha was called into the main office. She’s never gotten into any trouble before so she was confused as to why she needed to be in the office.

“Here,” the secretary handed her a piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

“Your new schedule,” the secretary went back to popping her gum and typing on her keyboard.

“I didn’t request a change,” Sasha looked down and saw that her one class had dropped and turned into a free period.

“I know you didn’t, but this was a special request.”

“By who?”

“Mr. Garber, he has requested you and other students for something during free period,” Sasha was beginning to seeth. How did this man not take no for an answer?

“Is there any way I can change my schedule back?” The secretary shook her head and Sasha stomped off.

She couldn’t believe that her teacher had the audacity to change her schedule without her permission. This man was nuts, Sasha was convinced. She’d probably freak out on someone if this schedule change had anything to do with decathlon.

“Hey, hey, Sasha Rogers,” Ned pointed finger guns her way as he and Peter walked up to her.

“Did you do this,” Sasha took her anger out on the poor kid.

“I assume you’re talking about our new schedules. Nah, I didn’t have the skills to hack into the new system. I had chemistry homework to do so I couldn’t. Don’t worry though, Peter and I will be seeing you in class shortly,” Ned did a weird diabolical laugh as he walked away.

Peter remained and decided to speak to you. “I’m sure Mr. Garber isn’t gonna waste our time with whatever he needs our help for. He did the same thing to me one year too. Don’t worry it’ll be fine,” he gave Sasha a reassuring smile as he walked away.

A few periods had gone by and it was time for Mr. Garber’s free period. Sasha had entered the room and saw Peter, Ned, and MJ along with a few other faces. Flash Thompson was one of the few who picked out Sasha’s presence.

“Holy shit, never thought I’d see the way when Miss-too-smart-for-anybody decided to join us. I gotta say I was questioning why Garber did this, but now I think I know why. What, did princess not like staying after hours? Afraid that the big bad kids would rough you up?” Flash taunted Sasha as she turned red with embarrassment. Mr. Garber did all this for her?

“Fuck off, Flash. You only pick on Sasha cause you know she’ll be Valedictorian by the end of the year. What, did “big bad” Flash’s masculinity get compromised now that a woman might overthrow you?” MJ got up and right into Flash’s face.

Flash quickly backed off and sat himself down again. Sasha and him have been in an unspoken (and one sided) competition. He always got mad when Sasha got higher grades on tests than him. One time, after the freshman PSATs he had to be sent to anger management because Sasha got the highest grade in the class.

“Don’t let him bother you, he's a dick,” MJ shot Sasha a smile.

“Sasha, right? We have English and Physics together?”

“Yeah, how are you?” Sasha always had some trouble making conversation with people.

The girls chatted for a moment before they sat with Ned and Peter. To say Ned was more than happy was an understatement. There wasn’t a word in the English language that could describe how thrilled he was that Sasha had joined.

“Welcome to the dark side, Sasha Rogers,” Ned said in a kind of creepy way. Sasha laughed as Peter elbowed him.

“Really, welcome Sasha, I really hope you’ll like decathlon,” Peter smiled as he hooked his arm around MJ.

“Did Mr. Garber really do this for me?” The three shrugged their shoulders and Sasha’s question. As far as everybody knew, Mr. Garber didn’t have time anymore after school to host decathlon meetings. So, instead of handing it over to someone else he just asked the school to do a schedule change.

“Alright everybody,” My. Garber walked in, a smile on his face as he saw Sasha with Peter, Ned, and MJ. “Let’s get started!”

__

Two weeks had gone by since Sasha joined decathlon. Even though she would never admit it to Ned and Mr. Garber, she was so happy she got to be a part of it. She never ended up telling her father anything. Her father always tried to keep her sheltered and she did understand why, but these people that she’s met, they make her so happy.

“Now I know I usually wait until after our first competition, but I have some exciting news!” Mr. Garber announced. “I would like to tell you all where Nationals are being held this year!” The class began to stomp their feet in a drumroll-esque way.

“Pack your bags, kids, because we are heading to….. Washington D.C.!” The kids cheered as Sasha joined in.

“Now, I’m passing out permission slips and I need them back ASAP. There’s a long weekend this time around so we will leave Thursday after school and be back Sunday evening,” Sasha frowned and raised her hand.

“Mr. Garber, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” the kids started to groan.

“Of course you can’t. I figured as much that you wouldn’t. What’s this excuse now? Daddy needs to get a new leash for you,” Flash snapped and MJ whacked him on the back of the head.

“Flash, don’t make me suspend you like Sophomore year,” Mr. Garber snapped.

“Sash, let’s talk more about that after shall we?”

Sasha explained that her father wouldn’t approve of her going away for such a long time. Steve never really let any of the kids go anywhere. God forbid it he found out Sasha wanted to sleep out somewhere.

“Do you want me to talk to your dad? I can tell him they’ll be a female teacher coming along with us. You can also bunk with MJ if that makes you feel comfortable,” Sasha appreciated the sentiment, but it didn’t matter.

“Mr. Garber, I really don’t want to let you or this team down, but I know my dad, he’ll say no,” Sasha was sad and Mr. Garber really felt bad for her.

“How about this, why don’t you talk to your father first. Try and butter him up to the idea, then we can worry about later,” Sasha walked out of the room and tried not to cry. She really wanted to go.

Her phone began to buzz a few times on her way to her next class. Since she’s gotten it, Sasha figured out how to silence it and stop it from vibrating. However, she liked to keep it on during school for emergencies.

Hey, dad can’t get you today so I’ll pick you up. xBucky

Sounds good. xSasha

__

“Hey, there’s my favorite girl,” Sasha smiled as she saw Bucky’s car parked out front.

“Hey, Buck,” Sasha was still sad as she got into the car.

“What’s got you all glum,” Bucky started the car, but did not move.

“It’s nothing, just school.”

“Well, it can’t be “just school” that’s got you so sad. What’s the real problem,” he knew her like a book.

“My class is holding this weekend trip, Thursday night to Sunday night to Washington D.C. and I really want to go,” Bucky sighed.

“And you want to go, but you know dad won’t let you,” he finished and Sasha shook her head.

“I have to think of a way to convince him, but I know he’ll say no. God, I just wish for once he would let me do my own thing. I’m 18 for crying out loud!” Sasha got upset again.

“Hey, there’s no need to get upset. I got an idea,” Bucky knew this plan probably would take a lot of convincing to Steve, but he had to do whatever he could to keep Sasha happy. “I tell dad you’ll be staying over to help out with work and things around the house, but really you’ll be in Washington,” Sasha’s ears perked up at this.

“It’ll never work.”

“Trust me, it will,” Bucky would damn sure make it work.

“He needs to sign my permission slip,” she held out the folded paper.

“Oh give me that,” Bucky took the paper and grabbed a pen and scribbled Steve’s name on it, “See, problem solved. You get your trip and all I have to do is convince daddio you’ll be with me for the weekend.

Sasha couldn’t believe it. Could this actually work? It would take a miracle for her father to agree with Bucky, but she could only hold on for hope. She quickly prayed on the ride back home. Steve has to believe them. Bucky has to make sure of it.

Bucky will make sure of it, he thought. Bucky can’t let her down, they still have so far to go. He’ll be damned if Steve says no. He trusts Bucky enough to have all his children go with him for the summer, so it has to work.

Sasha needed this, she needed to experience a little bit of freedom before graduation. She needs to experience a little bit of life before Steve takes another one’s away.

Tags to be added in comments!!

[anotheronechicagobog]

Functional Dysfunction - Chapter 3 - Abortion Day - Rheese

written by @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, abortion, mention of vomit, stress, Daniel Charles is an ass, Connor is still dating Robyn just so you guys know

Avoiding Maggie and Manning was easier said than done. She was working in neuro, not the ED, but they still managed to corner her only forty-five minutes into her shift. She'd managed to escape by being called to do rounds but she knew she wouldn't be so lucky next time. She was trying to think of a game plan or an excuse, just something she could use when they hunted her down next time, but she was coming up empty. Manning had mother's intuition and Maggie is a living, breathing lie detector. So she was drowning herself in work, Dr. Abrams had just given her a bland stare when she was in his office that morning. "I'll give you the extra work because Anderson is out sick, but don't take this as an invitation to distract yourself because of your pregnancy." Sarah had only managed to make choking noises as she wished a hole would swallow her. "I'm a doctor, don't look so shocked. I will need to know what adjustments will need to be made to your schedule depending on your condition, but that can be handled at a later date. I will not tell anyone because I do not partake in hospital gossip, but I must ask that you refrain from talking about it excessively should you choose to share the news, this is a workplace."

"O-of course." So, now two people knew and neither of them was the father. But she was getting an abortion so what did it matter? Plus, Jimmy had gotten back together with Chilli for the... Third? Time... Honestly, she'd stopped keeping track because, to be frank, she wasn't a fan of gossip herself. So she was pushing everything but neurology to the back of her mind and focusing on her patients. It was actually helping, being methodical and relatively unemotional. She'd heard when she was a med student that Dr. Abrams was unnecessarily cruel but Sarah didn't believe that to be true at all. Sure he was cold and blunt, but in his field, there was even less room for error than there usually was when treating someone. Dousing bad odds in sugar wasn't going to make anything better and Sarah thought that his demeanour and the way he presented things actually made patients sober up and recognize just how serious he was being. And no, the man did not have a humble bone in his body, but everyone has flaws and considering how low his mortality rate is compared to other neurosurgeons, she considers it a flaw well-earned. 

Sarah was doing the pre-ops for a patient who was going to have a sizable brain tumour removed, the tumour was actually in the best spot possible, you know, considering it's a brain tumour. She was going to be scrubbing in provided she completed the pre-ops to Dr. Abrams' expectations. "Reese."

"Ah!" She whirled around to see Manning standing behind her a pensive look on the older woman's face. "Dr. Manning, you snuck up behind me." She placed her hand over her chest in an attempt to slow her racing heart, not just from being startled, but because now might be time for the confrontation she'd been working so diligently to avoid. "How else was I supposed to talk to you? You've been avoiding Maggie and I." 

"Not actively, I just have a lot of work to do. You know how much effort and time it takes to do a double specialty."

"Don't lie to me Reese, I know that something's wrong. We can help you, you just need to talk to us!"

"There is nothing wrong, though! I am fine, I just need you and Maggie to stop jumping down my throat."

"Wow, settle down, Sarah. You're not usually this irritable, so there definitely is something wrong."

"Dr. Manning I need my resident now, so if you could stop interrogating her in the hallway that would be wonderful." 

"Bye Dr. Manning."

"Reese-" Sarah turned back to Natalie to give her a quick thumbs up and smile, something she hoped would reassure her, before continuing behind Dr. Abrams at a speedy pace. "How's our patient doing?"

"His labs are good, cell count normal, temp hasn't gone up, the scans were a little concerning though. The tumour has gotten bigger since the last scan. By half a millimetre." Dr. Abrams stopped walking abruptly, grabbed the scan from the still speed-walking Sarah, and studied it intently while Sarah nearly tripped over herself trying to stop. "You are correct. His tumour is growing, we need to remove it today. It's impressive that a first-year resident caught that slight discrepancy. Scrub up and inform the head OR scheduling team." She nodded and ran ahead to the neuro nurse's station. 

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Dr. Abrams' steady hands delicately probed their patient's brain, carefully moving the scalpel to separate the tumour from the rest of the brain. Sarah was at his side studying his movements and answering all his questions. " And what do we do next Dr. Reese?"

"The tumour is ready to be removed, we place it in a surgical tray to get transferred to pathology to be tested."

"Good. I want you to take the tumour there personally, the growth rate is concerning. Attend to my post-ops afterwards."

"Of course Dr. Abrams." Sarah took his orders very seriously and refrained from doing a happy dance the second she exited the OR. The tumour was moved from the surgical tray to a plastic container marked for biological testing before she washed her arms and scrubbed down. As she headed to the elevator she noticed Maggie talking to the OR nurses stationed at the desk. Their eyes met and Sarah knew that Maggie, like Manning, weren't going to stop insisting she was acting differently until she wasn't. As the doors closed she took a deep breath and revelled in the relief that her abortion was tomorrow.

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Sarah finished her shift completely starving and a little disheartened. News of Robyn's admittance to the hospital had become widespread, she'd had to act like she hadn't already known when Doris jumped next to her in the cafeteria before flittering off to tell another person who had no business knowing that information. Sarah felt angry on Robyn's behalf, the poor woman was going through something so terrifying, and now she wasn't even able to defend herself from others slandering her. She'd wanted to say something to Doris, snap back at her, but the gossip had slithered away before she could even get a word out. 

Her day got even worse when Jimmy came in with a victim, riding in ambo 61 while Sylvie was on vacation visiting her parents. It was hands down the most awkward interaction ever. He handed off the patient to her, but then wouldn't go away. And Chilli was glaring at her the whole time. Sarah briefly considered that maybe they were on a break or having a tiff and he was trying to make the other paramedic jealous, and then just got more annoyed. She just looked at him incredulously before focusing back on the patient. He still didn't leave. "Jimmy, let's go restock... Jimmy. Let's go." She could feel his eyes boring into her and could feel her blood boiling. What was his problem? His job was done, it was time for her to do hers now. Instead, he was jabbering on about shrimp, the Blackhawks, and her hair, of all things. She closed the curtains on him, only for him to open them back up with a smug smile. All despite the fact that everyone was telling him to leave, Dr. Manning, April, Doris, Maggie. "Uh, hey, dude? Could you maybe leave her alone? She's supposed to fix my arm which has a shard of glass sticking out of it, not being creeped on by you." She couldn't believe it took her patient saying something to get him to leave.

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Sarah rolled her neck, trying to shake the day away while she relished in a moment of silence in her hiding place when Connor found her. "I heard that you had a pretty crappy morning."

"You could say that."

"So, Jimmy showed up?"

"He was a paramedic today."

"Well, that's debatable. Paramedics leave after they hand off a patient."

"Yeah, I know. It was... Really weird. Honestly, it's probably because he's working with Chilli and they're going through something."

"They're always going through something."

"Tell me about it."

"So what really happened? Cause I've heard a few different versions at this point."

"The ambulance called ahead with possible neurological damage, he was fine but it's better to be safe than sorry, and Jimmy just wouldn't leave. I was just trying to do my job and he was just standing there, watching me, and talking about my hair. He was asked to leave so many times, Dr. Manning, nurses, hell even his partner joined in. I tried to close the curtain twice but he just opened it again, and actually looked a little insulted that I did. I don't know what his deal was."

"Damn. I don't know him very well but he kinda seems like a tool."

"He is, but I wasn't exactly looking for anything long-term with him."

"Fair enough."

"Speaking of long-term relationships, how's Robyn doing? Your meeting with the hospital about her release is today, right?"

"Yeah, it's in an hour. Robyn's been doing good, I'm just trying to calm down right now."

"Nervous?"

"Angry."

"About?"

"Dr. Charles is her father who abandoned her and has spent the last several months trying to forge some kind of a relationship with her. He has no right to claim to know what's best for her, personal or professional. She was meeting with a psychiatrist, they'd come up with a treatment plan, she was actually talking about admitting herself to psych. But now? She's totally shut down, completely defensive, and I want to help her but she won't let me."

"Something to bring up to her is resuming treatment and all the plans she had before, just at a different hospital. Gaffney isn't the only hospital with psych facilities, Lakeshore's is actually better rated. So she'd still get treatment but her files wouldn't be accessible by her father and none of his orders regarding her care would be taken seriously, he doesn't have clearance there."

"That's a great idea, Sarah. Thank you, I'll make sure to bring it up with her."

"No problem. I really hope that Robyn gets proper treatment and as much space from her father as she wants."

"Me too. I should probably get going, I have to change out of my scrubs and meet with my lawyer before the meeting."

"Good luck!"

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"Hey, Reese, are you going to Molly's?"

"No, I'd rather go home and get some sleep."

"You haven't really been coming out with us a lot, are you okay?"

"Did I ever really go that often in the past?"

"Touché."

"And, I'm fine. Completely fine, but Manning and Maggie don't believe me and I suspect that they go to you too, Choi."

"Guilty as charged, we're just worried about you."

"But there is nothing to be worried about."

"You can't eat, you've been throwing up, you've somehow gotten even more private and secretive, and Borelli's been really weird lately. Always asking where you are, how you're doing, what your day was like, and then there was that whole incident in the ED. Something's going on, Sarah. We are worried about you."

"You're right, something's going on, but it's nothing bad and certainly nothing I can't handle myself."

"So there is something going on." She just sighed and gave him an exasperated look. He held his hands up in defence and sent a weak smile her way. "I guess I'll see you later then, Reese."

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It was abortion day, as Connor had so lovingly dubbed it. Sarah was nervous beyond belief and she had no idea why. It was a quick, painless procedure. A procedure she wanted. There was nothing to be afraid of. She'd been in an OR a couple of times to watch abortions being performed during her OB/GYN rotation. The procedure was simple and safe, there should not have been an entire damn zoo stomping around in her stomach, there was nothing to be nervous about... Right? The knots in her stomach kept twisting and twisting, bile was rising up her throat and she just couldn't hold it back. She barely made it to the bathroom in time. 

She spent ten minutes gripping the toilet bowl as her body shook and was drained of energy every time she opened her mouth. Her hair had clumps of vomit and toilet water infect her curls. She was cold everywhere but her throat which felt like it was burned with how raw it was. Tears prickled her eyes, but she had no idea why. Yes, she was going through hormone changes but she hadn't actually reached the hormone stage of pregnancy yet. Stage of pregnancy. She felt so strange whenever she thought about it, so she tried not to. She'd finished getting dressed in leggings and a sweater when her buzzer went off. Puzzled, she pressed the button on the intercom system. "Hello?"

"Sarah? Hi, it's Connor. I'm here to take you to the clinic for your procedure if you want. Just to be supportive and take you home after."

"Connor, you don't have to."

"I know, I'm offering. Everyone needs a support system. You've been mine while dealing with this whole Robyn debacle, I'll be yours through this."

"Thank you, Connor. I'll take you up on it, I'll be downstairs in a few minutes."

"Okay, see you then."

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The car ride was smooth and luxurious, solely because of Connor's high-end car. Inside, Sarah was nothing but nerves. The sinking feeling in her stomach that had been present since she booked the abortion got heavier and heavier the closer they got to the clinic. Connor was trying to keep the mood light by talking about how hectic med school had been in Guadulajara but was failing through no fault of his own, it was all Sarah's. When they actually made it to the clinic Sarah was on the verge of violently vomiting all over the interior of the car. "Sarah? Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Sarah, you don;t have to do this if you don't want to."

"I know."

"Okay. Then take a deep breath, I've got you."

Sarah doesn't actually remember exiting the car on shakey legs. Or pushing through the mob of pro-life jackasses. Or being escorted to the admitting room by a security guard. One moment she was sitting in the passenger seat with Connor holding her hand and running his thumb across her knuckles and the next she was standing beside him in line to talk to the secretary who sat behind bullet-proof glass. The blue walls and colourful decor felt alien to her for some reason. "Name?"

"Sarah Reese." 

"And is this your support person?"

"Yes."

She answered the rest of the secretary's questions despite feeling like she was underwater, and was instructed to take a seat and wait for her name to be called. The longer she sat there, the more suffocated she felt, and Connor's supportive hand-holding and an arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders only did so much. It felt like they sat there for eternity, time dragging on in the most cruel, painful way. The woman who had been opening the frosted door to call out names and guide people through to the back reappeared. "Sarah Reese?" She didn't move. She couldn't. "Sarah?" This time it was Connor. "Sarah? Please say something, anything." She could feel the weight of everyone in the room staring at her. "I can't do this Connor."

"Okay, then let's get out of here."

[starrynite7114]

things you never knew: two

A/N: And I’m back! So excited for things you never knew. The story is progressing well and I cannot wait to take you all on this journey with Ailee and Angel along with Olivia and EZ. This is going to be so fun and I hope you all will enjoy it. Hope you all will like the update! 

I also posted the characters of things you never knew, link is below!

Still working on Misconstrued and Body Art request, hoping to have it up in the next two days! 

Thank you all for the support for not only this story, but all of them. I really enjoy reading the comments and seeing the likes! <3

TYNK:  Characters one

Masterlist

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic​ : @ifoundmyhappythought : @woahitslucyylu : @enamoured-x​ : @encounterthepast : @marvelmaree : @thickemadame : @carlaangel86 : @iambabyharry : @claytoncardenasbabymama : @sadeyesgf : @elcococruz : @chibsytelford : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @agirllovespasta : @jadert15 : @trulysuccubus : @whyisgmora : @briannab1234 : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @briana-mishell24

GIF: CREDIT TO ORIGINAL CREATOR

Ailee opened up the box of coffee beans that was sent from Columbia, her favorite type of roast. She could already smell the goodness and her mouth watered. It’s been two weeks since she was released from prison and she could see the MC staking out across the street at Carniceria Reyes. She honestly was a bit ticked at Olivia for picking the shop across from the carniceria, but Olivia stated it was the only thing available, which she was almost certain was a lie. Olivia has been trying to get her to speak to Angel, stating that he was miserable without her.

And she was miserable without him too, well was, but they all had to move on. 

She couldn’t risk Angel and the club. If they believed she was angry, they would stay away from her. But she knew Angel would be coming around soon. If there was one thing about the Reyes boys, they were stubborn. 

Ailee heard the footsteps behind her even though she could tell that the person was trying their best to remain quiet. She heard the door open, always hyper aware of her surroundings. Her eyes glanced at the reflection at the glass door and saw EZ making his way towards her with Olivia trying her best to not laugh behind him. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” EZ grabbed her from behind causing Ailee to squeal.

“I could have killed you.” Ailee informed him when he let go of her. 

“Why didn’t you?” He saw the box cutter in her hand and understood what she meant. 

Ailee nodded her head towards the door. “Reflection and I heard the door.”

“Jail made you hyper aware, I get it.”

But EZ didn’t get it. 

She wished he did.

“Sure,” she gave him a tight smile, nodding her head. Her eyes landed on the kute he was wearing, whistling. “Prospect. I’m sure you had other opportunities presented to you besides prospecting for the Mayans.”

“Killed a cop, Lee, there’s not much I can do.” EZ understood what Creeper meant now. Ailee did look like she just went through some hardship, but the scars on her hands, the hollow look in her eyes. The spark that he used to see in her eyes was no longer there. She was very guarded.

“You’re right. Well, if the MC doesn’t work out for you, you can work in the shop with me.” Ailee saw Olivia give her a look, shutting the idea down. She didn’t want EZ to be part of Maquina either, but it was a legit question regarding the shop, he didn’t need to become a part of Maquina.

“I’m surprised that you opened up shop again.” EZ helped unbox some of their items.

“It’s what I do best.” Ailee shrugged. 

“Your phone is ringing.” Olivia pointed out. Ailee has a bad habit of silencing her phone, not even turning on the vibrate option. She had an Apple Watch to alert her for calls and Olivia noticed it wasn’t around her wrist. “Are you avoiding someone?”

Ailee shook her head. “Don’t start, I took off my watch cause I didn’t want it to get scratched.” She walked over to her cell phone and saw a few missed calls from Alex and her Tio Jin. Then she saw a few messages from Alex as well. 

“Lovers quarrel?” Olivia teased.

“I said don’t start.” Ailee narrowed her eyes at her.

“You’re already seeing someone?” EZ was confused. Ailee just got out two weeks ago and he was almost certain that no one was allowed to visit her, per her request. “What did you do? Have a penpal?” 

Olivia gave her an apologetic look as Ailee quickly thought of a way to get herself out of explaining complicated matters to EZ. “No, it’s Alexander.”

EZ knew of Alexander. Her European best friend, the one Angel never met, but loathe. Angel was always selfish with his relationship with Ailee. If anyone threatened his position in her life, he didn’t like them and the one person who he felt constantly did was Alexander. Ailee and her family always went to Europe for the summer to visit her half-brother Theo and that’s where she mostly saw Alexander. She always had endless stories about Europe and in all those stories, Alexander was always present. EZ was also aware that Alex was in love with Ailee due to Olivia. She always spoke highly of Alexander and how Angel was lucky that he somehow sunk his claws into Ailee already and she didn’t even consider anything with Alexander. And it always seemed to EZ that Alexander respected Ailee’s stance regarding their relationship. 

“Alexander, did you let him visit you or did you close him off too?” EZ knew this was going to open a can of worms, but he wanted to help Angel fix things with Ailee. Maybe it would take the guilt weighing on his shoulders how he’s betraying Angel with his deal with the DEA.

“No, he visited me often, he didn’t let me take a fall.” Ailee smiled, but EZ could see it didn’t reach her eyes. It was a tight smile and she saw the wall going up. “If you excuse me, I have matters to attend to. It was nice seeing you Ezekiel, I wish you well with your prospecting.” Turning to Olivia, “I have business to handle in San Diego, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Olivia and Ezekiel watched as Ailee made her way out of the coffee shop. The two looked at one another, with Olivia letting out a sigh.

“I told you not to mention Angel.” Olivia sat on one of the chairs that was on the floor since the majority of the chairs were still on the tables. “You and your brother are just so hardheaded.”

“You’re lucky I’m the one who came. Angel has been itching to confront her.” Olivia had called EZ while he was at the clubhouse with Angel and Gilly. She was requesting some assistance at the shop and Angel and Gilly offered to go. EZ shut the idea down, but had to fight Angel of, he knew Angel could just stay away for long. “Fuck.” EZ watched as Angel’s bike pulled up across the street in front of his father’s carniceria. “I’m so glad Ailee left.”

“I concur, cause I do not want to be here for that fight.” Olivia grimaced. “So, have you spoken to Emily?” She didn’t mind Emily, always thought she was a nice girl, but things were different now. She was part of the cartel, regardless of what EZ wanted to believe. 

“No, I’ve seen her around town, but I haven’t spoken to her.” EZ wasn’t sure how he felt about Emily. The nostalgia was there, she was his first love, but after he pushed her away, how he treated her, he didn’t blame her for closing him off. 

Olivia nodded her head. “You’ll find someone EZ, I’ll set you up a Tinder profile.” That pained Olivia to say, she wished EZ would look her way, but she kept telling herself the ship had sailed and she really needed to put herself out there. Maybe she should make a tinder profile. 

“I’m good.” EZ chuckled, shaking his head. He groaned when he saw Angel knocked on the door, but he opened it anyway. “We talked about this.”

“Yeah, well remember, I don’t listen.” He looked around. “She isn’t here.”

“She just left to go to San Diego.” Olivia answered.

“Preciosa,” Angel smiled, walking over to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Looking beautiful as always.” He took her hand and spun her around.

EZ rolled his eyes and lightly pushed Angel away. “Alright, alright enough flirting for the day.”

Angel chuckled at his brother’s reaction. He knew how much EZ hated it when Angel flirted with Olivia, but if it was going to get his younger brother’s head out of his ass, he didn’t mind.

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

Ailee unlocked the patio door, slipping inside the apartment. The lights were off after she cut the electricity. In her ear, was her older brother, Vince, guiding her through the layout of the now darkened apartment.

“Stay there, his men are on their way up.” Vince warned her as Ailee twisted the silencer on the muzzle of the gun.

 “Got it,” Ailee whispered as she slipped on her goggles to enable her to see in the dark. “How far are they?” She was behind a couch, looking at the reflection on the glass.

“Count to ten.” 

Ailee began the countdown. She checked her magazine to make sure it was full. Once she was assured, she pushed it back in. She cocked the slide back as soon as she reached one. Looking at the reflection provided to her by the doors, she saw their flashlights and counted out five guys. She stood up and immediately eliminated the two guys on the left, causing the other three to scramble. Ailee hid behind the couch once more. 

She shot two bullets, so she had eleven shots left.

She heard the footsteps from beside her and immediately raised her gun, shooting the guy in between the eyes. Rolling towards the fallen body, the shot the other guy released missed her. Quickly, she stood up and shot that guy, leaving her with one more left. She looked up and didn’t find him, but knew he was most likely hiding somewhere.

“Are you okay? How many have you taken out?” She heard Vince questioned. 

“Four, I just need one more,” she replied. Looking around, she looked for any sign of the guy and saw the bar in front of her that had shelves of liquor and a mirror behind it. She shot the mirror, causing some of the glass shelves to break, and the pieces of glass to fall behind the bar. She heard the groan then and Ailee was about to finish him off when she heard the shot go off beside her and the indescribable pain radiating from her side. She fell on her side, the shot causing her to fall. Looking to her side, she saw her target, who looked absolutely shocked that he shot someone. She took advantage of his disbelief and shot him, before placing her hand on her wound. 

There was absolutely no hesitation and she was angry the target was even able to shoot her; she was better than that. She didn’t forget about the other guy and saw that he stood up and was about to shoot at her. She crawled behind the front of the bar and cussed under her breath as the shots passed her.

“Were you shot?” That wasn’t Vince’s voice. It was John’s.

Ailee chose not to reply and noticed that the bar was made out of wood, so it wouldn’t be hard for the bullet to penetrate it. Not wanting to stay any longer, she placed her gun against the bar and opened fire, moving her gun in a line, hoping that one bullet at least got the guy. There was no sound and she ran out of bullets. She unloaded her magazine and reloaded with another. With her hand pressed against her side, she stood up and cautiously made her way behind the bar. Luckily for her, three of the bullets got the guy and he was lying motionless behind the bar.

“Ailee,” she heard John hiss.

“I’m fine, going to the extraction point. Send the cleaners.”

Ailee grimaced as the pain worsened. She was going to get an earful from Vince and John. Getting shot was a sign of carelessness. She wasn’t being careless, the guy caught her off guard, big difference. But they would tell her to be observant. She wasn’t a child, but they had a horrible habit of still treating her like one. 

Taking off her goggles, she ripped off her sleeves to put pressure against her wound.

Gun shot wounds always sucked. The pain never lessened, it was always terrible.

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

“You got the job done, but you were careless.” John placed the folder down on the table as their medical staff tended to Ailee.

“I got it done and that’s what matters.” Ailee cringed at the feeling of the needle that was going through her body. Even though she was given anesthesia, she could still feel it. For someone as tough as her, she absolutely hated needles. When she would get an examination, she couldn’t look at them taking her blood, it was too much for her.  

“That’s not the point, what if he shot you in the head? There’s a reason why you’re taught to be cautious, to anticipate every move.” John scolded. “Recklessness causes gunshot wounds.”

 “John, I didn’t know he was going to come out. From his profile, that I studied extremely well I might add, it stated that he would be staying in his panic room in the event of an attack.” Ailee could be a bit stubborn, which was a characteristic John knew so well. His baby sister had always been stubborn, she always had something to fucking say. “And in his profile, it clearly stated that he had horrible aim and had no experience with guns.” 

“Don’t be a smartass.” Vince warned as he entered the medical ward in their building.

“Learned from the best,” she threw John a smirk, which he returned with one of his own. “Come on, I got the job done, it was a mistake, it’s not going to happen again.”

“It shouldn’t happen again, but this has happened before. You have to think of all the possibilities, you can’t just assume and pray it doesn’t happen.” John reminded her.

“Papa!” John’s son, Caleb, and his wife, Jamie, interrupted the three.

“Hey baby,” John picked him up, dropping a kiss on his cheek.

Once Jamie made it over to John, she gave him a kiss on the lips before turning to Ailee. “Ah, the devil does bleed.” Jamie and Ailee had a good relationship, but they couldn’t help pulling the other’s string every once in a while.

“Does that mean you bleed then?” Ailee slipped her shirt back on, thanking their doctor, Alexa Jordan.

“You’re not invincible, can you stop getting,” Alexa looked over at Caleb who was busy talking to his mother and father. “S-H-O-T.”

“You know he can spell right?” Ailee gave her an amused expression making Alexa roll her eyes.

“I swear you are literally the clone of John, but worst. Ah yes, the sprinkle of Vince.” Alexa shook her head. “Where’s DeAndre?”

“With your daughter.” Jamie replied, taking Caleb from John. “If you’re done tending to the spawn, you can meet them in your office.”

“Thanks again Lexa.”

“You know I got you,” Alexa smiled. “But next time this happens, I’m not using anesthesia when I give you your stitches.”

“Great motivation.” Ailee smiled.

Alexa walked out of the medical ward. Ailee looked at her brother, who had a folder in his hands. It was most likely her newest mission. Alexa and John were both retired from Maquina. They were once the top dogs and now, Ailee claimed that spot. It was hard to achieve, but she was able to do so in less than three years. Ruthlessness was a part of her game. Jin was incredibly proud of her, to climb the ladder that quickly, but he also knew it was due to her desire to prove a point. 

They wanted a monster, they got one. 

Maquina was a government agency that was based in the United States, but was now branching off to Europe, working with the government in order to stop certain people from coming to power. It was a government’s loophole to diplomatic measures. Maquina also enabled them to work without the need of getting approval from Congress. The President and a cabinet that the President hand selected made the decisions for Maquina, at least that was before the current President. They made changes and picked unbiased high ranking officials to man the Council. Usually, Jin, the head of Maquina, was the one to contact the government. Maquina has free reign and the government gives them the assignments. It was up to Maquina to do whatever they needed to do, but of course, there were protocols. They had to get approval from the counsel in order to do certain missions. There were times they could act independently, but usually that was only when they were hired by an independent contractor for a hit.

In other words, Maquina was basically a company for hired guns, but was protected by the government in which they operate.

“So, I think we’re going to have to take you out of the field for a while.” Vince informed her, making Ailee’s eyebrow’s furrow in annoyance.

“Why? This has been my first incident,” Ailee paused and gave her brother a sheepish smile after he shot her a look of irritation. “After some time.” She added.

“It’s not about that,” Vince shook his head. “Uncle Jin wants you to take on a security detail.”

“Security? Are you joking? You’re going to make me a babysitter?” Ailee groaned. “Listen, adults should not be taken care of as if their children. You want me to babysit cutie over there, fine, but adults, I don’t think so.”

“Ailee, this isn’t babysitting, you have to make sure these people are protected. You’re not going to be the only one there.”

“Who exactly am I protecting?”

“Los Olvidados and the Mayans.”

Ailee gave her brothers an incredulous look shaking her head. “Protect the Mayans? They kill people on a weekly basis, I think they can protect themselves.” Ailee did not want to be involved with the Mayans, it was the last thing she wanted to do. “When have biker gangs and small rebel groups been our concern?”

“Word on the streets is that Theo has set up shop in Mexico.” John handed her a folder. “It’s the reason why we have you back in Santo Padre.” He knew his sister was not exactly happy that she was back in Santo Padre, back to where her fondness memories were. 

“And if he hasn’t?” 

“Then another dead end.” 

For an organization that had a far reach as Maquina, it was pissing Ailee off that they couldn’t pinpoint Theo’s actions. It’s not like he was in hiding. Theo’s weapons company was in full force, selling low grade weapons to Eastern Europeans groups along with third world countries. He wasn’t exactly getting much business from first world countries due to his father’s tarnished reputation. 

“How long do I have to stay in Santo Padre?” Ailee didn’t want to stay long. The longer she was there, the more opportunities Angel would have to speak to her. If anything, she felt that she shouldn’t have to stay in Santo Padre. Once they got a hit, they could call her back and she would handle it then. Honestly, she was hoping it was nothing so she didn’t have to stay in Santo Padre. She kept her bargain of her deal with Theo, she stayed away from Santo Padre.

“Think of it as a break, you have to stay in Santo Padre, you just got out of fucking jail.” Vince reminded her.

“Language,” Ailee, John and Jamie scolded Vince.

“Jesus Christ, sorry.” Vince chuckled. “I didn’t think you would mind staying in Santo Padre.”

“You know, for people who worked hard to get me out of Santo Padre, I’m shocked you’re pushing me to go back.”

John and Vince looked at one another. They weren't proud of their actions. If it was up to them, Ailee would stay in Santo Padre and live whatever happily ever after she achieved with Angel. She would stay away from Maquina and she didn’t have to live through the childhood they had. 

In all intents and purposes, their parents weren't the worst, by certain standards. They provided for them, gave them things they wanted, celebrated their birthdays, so in some ways, they knew it could have been worse. But they were adopted, that much they knew. They never tried to search for their real parents, thinking they would fare much better there since they were given up. From what John and Vince understood, they all had the same parents who decided to give them up each and every time. They weren’t sure why they never asked questions, but they never did. If they didn’t want them, they didn’t care to know about them.

But their parents, Cecilia and William Rivera, were hardly the epitome of good parents. They were kind, but they pushed them to do things that no kid should have to do unless it was their own choice. For example, they all basically had a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, Jiu Jitsu, and Karate. They had them learn four languages by the time they were ten, the first four was English, Spanish, German and Japanese, from there they learned Mandarin, French, Portguese and Korean. They don’t remember even going to Disneyland with their parents, but they did go with their Uncle Jin, their father’s younger brother. Jin was the only one who truly showed them how it was to be a child, along with Felipe and Marisol. Whenever their parents were gone for months at a time, they alway stayed with the Reyes’. 

It was the reason Ailee was so close to Angel. 

Their bond started when they were young and it just never went away. 

Vince and John did their best to protect Ailee, but there was so much they could do. They remembered celebrating her birthday with a cake they got Angel to get for her. They would go to the treehouse they built and sing her happy birthday at midnight. It was a tradition they did till Ailee was sixteen years old. 

But things changed. They grew older and John was shipped off to Washington DC to begin training as a Maquina agent, then Vince was sent. Ailee was alone and they couldn’t protect her. They knew their parents would never hurt Ailee, but they still worried. 

“We didn’t want this for you either, but you know why we’re doing it. Our parents wanted us to become a part of the organization. It’s the least we can do after they took us in.” John knew it was a bullshit ass reason, but it’s kept him going all these years, he couldn’t let go of it now.

“They’re dead, John. We don’t owe them anything. They stripped us of our childhood to start the process early. Do you know how insane that is? Would you want that for Caleb?” Ailee argued.

“This isn’t the time or place.” John shot her down as he always did. It’s not that he couldn’t discuss it. He knew everything about this was wrong, but he has been loyal to Maquina for so long, he didn’t know what else to do. They weren’t the ideal agency, the world wasn’t black and white, but he was happy to do what he could to help save millions of people. At least, that’s what he always reasoned. 

“Of course not,” Ailee sighed, stepping down from the examination bed. “It says here that Los Olvidados might be Theo’s play. Why? They’re a group against the cartel, doesn’t Theo supply the cartel with weapons? And as far as I know, Theo went to university with Miguel Galindo.”

“What better way to sell weapons than support the cause of what the weapons would be needed for? Don’t overthink this, you know why Theo would want to support a rebel group. He’s done it to plenty of groups all over the world.” John explained.

“But why take out the cartel? I’m pretty sure he uses Los Olvidados to move something.” 

“From what we gathered from Joshua, it’s mostly messages to his allies in the States.”

“Emails don’t do the trick anymore?”

“They’re being monitored, you know this. We’re the ones monitoring his email.” 

Vince watched as his two siblings discussed the schematics of Theo’s moves. It was crazy to him how they ended up in two different spectrums. Well, not really. He never cared much for Theo. He was always an asshole and ridding of him wouldn’t do much for Vince. But what he could never forgive was what he did to Ailee. 

It was unforgivable. 

“If you’re not comfortable because it’s Theo, I can take over Lee.” Vince offered.

“No, it’s fine, I can handle Theo, I just don’t like staying in Santo Padre.”

“Why, cause of Angel?” John grinned. 

“And that’s my cue to leave, bye,” Ailee bent down and gave Caleb a kiss on the cheek. “Wo ai ni.” 

Caleb giggled. “I love you too,” 

“Please keep John busy, I would appreciate it if he wasn’t on my tail all the time.” She teased her sister in law.

“We had an agreement, we passed him back and forth cause god knows I can’t take him either.” Jamie reminded Ailee.

“Haha, you two are a hoot.”

The two women laughed. Ailee walked out of the medical bay, looking at her watch, it was midnight. She would get back to Santo Padre around two and she could finish unpacking. She was certain Olivia finished a majority of things earlier, but she just wanted to check in. 

She arrived at the coffee shop, unlocking the door and closing it behind her. Taking off her jacket, she winced due to the wound she recently sustained. Gunshot wounds were a bitch and you never got used to it. 

Ailee began to unbox the plates and mugs, placing them in the kitchen counter. She was unboxing the next box when she heard the door open. It was three in the fucking morning, no one should even be around unless they were looking for trouble. She cussed under her breath since her gun was behind the counter and she was by the window. Gripping the box cutter, she held onto it, waiting for that person to make their way down the small hallway. Quickly she turned and hurled the box cutter towards that person and she gasped when she saw who it was.

“The fuck, are you trying to kill me?” Angel stuck to the wall, looking at the box cutter that Ailee hurled at him.

“No, but this is why you shouldn’t sneak up on people.” Ailee felt those familiar butterflies and she was annoyed. Fuck Angel Reyes. “What do you want Angel?”

To hold her. To kiss her. To be able to be with her again, but that was asking for too much, for now. Besides, he was angry, angry that she closed him off. He understood why she did what she did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have the right to close him off. 

Ailee was annoyed that he was here. No one else was here but them two and no one roamed the streets of Santo Padre once it was dark. It was safer that way. 

“You.”

“What?” She turned then and gasped when she realized how close Angel was. This was the problem. He made her weak, inadequate. She was usually good at this, but all her senses were heightened when he was around and not in a good way. She didn’t know where to start and where to end. Her mind was clouded. It was obnoxious. 

“You closed me off. Every attempt I made you blocked off. I know you were angry, but what you did wasn’t right.” He spat out.

“You can’t come in here telling me what’s wrong and right when I took the fall for your stupid MC.”

Angel’s face softened then. “I, fuck querida, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even know you went to jail till I got back from Vegas. And when I did come to you, they said I couldn’t see you.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t see me? I wasn’t in isolation.” Ailee scoffed. She never blocked them off, well her first two weeks she didn’t. She was surprised when Felipe went to visit her, since no one visited her besides Theo and Jin. “Look, I don’t care, just please leave me alone. You did a great job for five years, let’s just keep it that way.” 

Turning away from him, she continued to unbox the mugs, when Angel turned her to face him.

“Tough shit Lee, we don’t always get what we fucking want. Now be a fucking adult and talk to me. You don’t get to be angry that I didn’t go to see you when you blocked every attempt I made.”

She narrowed her eyes at Angel, taking her arm back. “First of all, I didn’t block anyone from seeing me. Second of all, you have some nerve to come here and accuse me of shit you asshole.” She winced, the movement reminding her of her wound. 

Angel saw how she winced and he frowned. His eyes roamed around her, checking for any wounds, but there was none. 

“What’s hurting?” His voice was so soft that it brought Ailee back to those times that she would come home to him, battered from training or a mission. She didn’t like coming home to him in that state since it brought so many questions she couldn’t answer. It could have been full disclosure, but she didn’t want to further involve Angel in this mess.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” She moved away from him, taking the mugs over to the shelves behind the counter. Turning around to grab the rest, Angel was right behind her and placed the rest on the counter. It was awful to be in such close proximity to Angel. 

For years she yearned for his touch, his kisses, his hold and his smile. And with him right in front of her, all the feelings she buried along with the memories have resurfaced. 

“Where is it hurting?” He questioned her again, boxing her in against the counter.

“Angel, I’m fine, please.” She wanted to push him away, but his scent was intoxicating. 

Angel’s hand landed on her hip, his finger slipping under her shirt, he leaned towards her. She felt her breath hitch as Angel’s fingers creeped closer to her gunshot wound, causing her to suck her stomach in.

“There’s blood on your shirt.” Angel lifted up her shirt before she could even stop him. “The fuck? Is that a gunshot wound?” He assessed her wound and noticed a few scars on her stomach. He tried to touch her wound, but Ailee moved away, pushing him off of her. “Who shot you?”

“It’s not important.”

“The fuck it’s not.” Angel was hot on her heels. “Your uncle has always been suspicious, but this, this is ridiculous.”

“Look, don’t pretend like you care about me now.” 

Such the wrong thing to say, which she noticed when Angel’s eyes darkened.

“I’m the only fucking person who cares about you!” Angel was distracted by seeing her again, but now, the frustration set in. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to not be able to see you? To know you were paying the price that I should be fucking paying? To top it off, you wouldn’t fucking see me. I love you, I’ve loved you since I knew what love fucking was. So don’t fucking tell me I don’t care about you.”

Angel and Ailee stood there, watching one another. Ailee never thought she would see Angel again and Angel was determined to see Ailee once she was released from prison. Angel’s eyes drifted over to Ailee’s lips, watch as her chest heaved up and down. Her dark brown hair was now a lighter shade of brown, tied up in a ponytail. Her eyes were a shade darker due to her annoyance, something he always noticed. They were usually a hazel green hue, but whenever she was angry, or in the throes of passion, her eyes were hazel. Whenever she was happy, or sad, it was green. It was odd how he noticed that but he knew everything about her. He wanted to kiss her, to make everything go away. 

“Fuck it.” As he was about to pull her against him, a voice interrupted.

“Standing a little too close, aren’t ya?” 

They both turned towards the direction where the voice came from. Angel looked at the man before him, unsure of who he was. Ailee, gave him a small smile before walking over to him to get away from Angel. It didn’t help matters that when Ailee reached the guy, he kissed her quickly on the lips and wrapped his arms around her.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Alexander Leon, Ailee’s boyfriend.”

Alexander Leon. 

The bane of his existence as a child. The other man in Ailee’s life. He’s seen pictures, but he’s never met Alex. Seeing him in the flesh, it made him real, it made him a threat, it made him, Angel paused.

“Did you fucking say boyfriend?” Angel turned to his stare to Ailee. “Isn’t this cheating? We never fucking broke up Lee.”

“Under the circumstances, I thought it was just assumed that we’re broken up.”

Angel snorted, shaking his head. “We’re not done.” His eyes moved to Alex. “I don’t care what you’re dildo says, we’re not fucking done.”

Ailee and Alexander watched as Angel made his way out of the coffee shop. Ailee wasn’t going to lie and say his words didn’t bring some heat in her. Hearing Angel say that, it was hot as fuck, but she had to remember that he was the thing of the past. 

“Did you have to say that?” Ailee pushed away from him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t want your boyfriend to find out you have a fake boyfriend?” Alexander teased Ailee. “Thought he was a thing of the past.”

“What are you doing here?” She chose to ignore his comment, continuing her task that she was doing before Angel came. 

“You just got out of jail, I figured I should visit my girlfriend.” Alexander sauntered over to her, helping her with her task. “How does it feel to be back?”

“Just peachy.” Ailee looked around then. “Where’s Sierra?”

“Dropped her off at your house, she was exhausted.”

“Why, because you had her handle everything again?” Sierra Ayala was Alexander’s personal assistant that Ailee adored. She was never shy to be assertive with Alex which was something he needed. And she always enjoyed watching the two banter, they were like an old married couple. 

“I resent that, I take care of her.”

“Right,” Ailee rolled her eyes. “Please stop referring to yourself as my boyfriend. I don’t need Angel breathing down my neck.”

“You have a boyfriend, he’ll back off.” Alexander took another box and placed it on the table.

“Not sure if you were here when he told me he wouldn’t back off, but you don’t know Angel, you’re out of your mind.” 

Alexander scoffed. “I’m not at all worried about Angel. He didn’t make any attempts to help you, not a big loss in my opinion.”

“Cross, it’s not like he could have seen me anyway.”

“What about in the hospital when you were miscarrying?”

Ailee froze and Alexander knew the mistake he made. He cussed under his breath and walked over to her, but she held up her hand.

“Lee, baby I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, please don’t mention it again. I can’t tell Angel I miscarried while I was in custody. It would break him.”

Alexander nodded his head. “And he won’t, I would never tell him.”

She had to finish her scouting and once she was done, she would leave Santo Padre behind for good. Too much damage, too much time has passed for her to go back to where she once was. The MC stupidly left the drugs and weapons in her former shop, which placed her In this position. She wrote Angel, every fucking day for a year and not a fucking word.

They were done.

Once she took care of Theo, if he was even behind Los Olvidados, she was going back to Spain and away from Santo Padre.