#like I know he’s a grown man and probably expects negative feedback to happen I mean all artists do (or at least should be ready for it)

[vicstarzie]

REAL!! The drop of Thunder Saga is actually like right when I seriously started to get into the fandom rather than just listen to the songs every now and again and everyone was so genuinely welcoming and nice and it was fun to talk about stuff (unfortunately none of my posts from back then are up anymore because I purged my account after a nasty breakup an old fandom of mine and wanting all that shit off my dashboard and page permanently)

Now I mostly stick with yapping to my friends in the fandom and from time to time just random people on tumblr since it’s MOSTLY chill(?) here. Oh god forbid I talk in the discord though holy hell, I’m scared of that place now actually and it’s genuinely kinda sad?? Like I used to spend a good chunk of my day talking about Epic in the discord server but after Vengeance saga it’s like the toxicity just increased x10, like sure there were annoying people before that but LORD after Vengeance saga released shit went so far downhill. There was a new argument or “debate” (these things weren’t debates half they were just arguments) almost every day for like nearly two-ish weeks or something, sometimes they were for valid reason, but other times they would be the STUPIDEST DEBATES EVER. Like one time I had to sit there and explain how Ancient Greek morality is different from modern day and how that DOES in fact matter in Epic and how gods have different morals than human beings and are naturally pretty morally gray since you can take their actions many different ways. All the bs has really turned me away from talking much in the server at this point. Genuinely like last time I spoke someone in the server POINTED OUT how I’ve been absent for such a long time and genuinely I just blamed it on school

And the discord server, really just the epic chat (though apparently there was drama in the fucking singing vc because someone or some group of people were being controlling assholes????), getting more toxic is honestly so sucky. The fandom as a whole getting more toxic sucks because something like that is definitely the farthest thing from what Jorge ever wanted to come out of this musical.

All this just to say: yeah I hate it too and wish the fandom was still as chill as it was what? Four months ago? Crazy how much changed in four fucking months. Like im glad Epic is getting more fans and more recognition because Jorge and all the singers deserve it, but it really sucks that that came at the price of the fandom getting more toxic than ever.

I also blame the decline/death of media literacy for some of the bullshit I see. I swear just a LITTLE bit of media literacy would go a LONG way for toning down the toxicity

Don't get me wrong I'm so excited for the Ithaca saga, I can't wait to see Telemachus and Athena again, to finally hear Penelope, to see more of Odysseus' ruthlessness, but oh gods do I miss the vibe before and after the Thunder saga (that's when I joined the fandom) - fangirling over Zeus (and Luke), Perimedes/Elpenor lore, everyone losing their shit over sirens and different beast, listening to mutiny for the first time and Eurylochus' "ody"... *sigh*

[ghost0loxer]

Imagine, a gender fluid teenager like myself has a favourite/feel-good film and that film is “Just One of the Guys,”from the mid 80s.

Picture this: theatre class, we watch “She’s The Man”, a dreamworks film from the 2000s. And yet, the social justice issues within the film are glaringly obvious to today’s society. Don’t get me wrong, it can be a funny film in a group setting - but then there are scenes that are just uncomfortable. Now, we discussed these themes in class, but I just can’t help but think about the film that came before it. Yes, StM (she’s the mans) is a modern day adaption of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night” but I was thinking about the modern day adaption before StM, “Just One of the Guys” from the mid 80s.

I love this film. For multiple reasons, which I hope to discuss.

Number one, our main character. Terry Griffith is stubborn. If she thinks something is right, she won’t let anyone say no or get in her way. Now in some cases, this is great. It’s definitely a shift in the usual romantic comedy female lead (especially for the 80s). But it’s one of her biggest flaws. In the beginning, Terry doesn’t win a contest for a part-time job at the Sun Tribune. She believes her article was amazing, but she speaks with her English teacher and he gives it to her straight. “You don’t have what it takes to be a reporter.” Her article is boring; it’s about the nutritional value of the lunch menu in the school cafeteria, of course it’s boring. But the words her teacher tells her has her convinced it’s because she’s a woman. Thus, she leaves school for two weeks and transfers as a buy to another school who are holding the same competition. Once she gives her article, she is told almost the same thing, but this time, she’s given proper feedback to improve it. Of course, there was some irony with this scene between Terry and the teacher. “Just because you’re guy, doesn’t mean you can’t be sensitive or light.” Thing is, she doesn’t give up, she strives to fix it and finds a new angle. I love her determination, I love the way she doesn’t let others push her around. Furthermore, her transition to a man. In StM, Viola as a guy is made to be cringey and comedic, you watch and think, there’s no way a guy would do that. But Terry, having grown up with a younger brother and is actually smart, manages to nail the role. Sure, she has slip-ups, but she stays afloat and she’s not being over the top. She’s chill and convincing, yet you as the audience can tell she’s trying to appear masculine. Her lines are witty and she’s sharp. Someone has something to say, she’ll be able to backtrack and answer with a joke or sarcasm quickly. I like smart characters.

Another point, the way women are written in this film. A lot of women in this film are treated like shit, but it’s probably a realistic depiction of the 80s. Everyone is talking about dating and sex, it seems to be the only topic the women in this film speak about, unless they are Terry. Terry seems to be the only character in this film whose main goal is not romance or sex. She strives to be a reporter, she wants to prove herself, and she rejects the advances upon her frequently. Whether it’s the boys asking her on dates in halls, or her own boyfriend attempting to seduce her when her parents aren’t home, she doesn’t put them above herself, yet she still lets them down easily, unless they become more pushy (case in point, her boyfriend, Kevin, in the beginning). She can stand up for herself, but she’s not the only one. Her best friend, Denise is one of the many women looking for love, nevertheless, she holds standards. I will admit, I didn’t like Denise’s acting in the beginning; she’s not a great character, but even she manages to reject men’s advances constantly. She’s not afraid to say it bluntly and she expresses her true emotions when certain guys try to ask her out. She tells it to them straight, and I respect her for that (despite her lack of empathy for some). Terry’s brother is constantly hitting on Denise, but she stands her ground. She doesn’t hit him or curse him out, she spins words around him and always lead back to the key word “no.”

This is my third, and maybe final point, (because I’m not great at writing but I’m starting to get tired) the way they handle sexual orientation. It seems if you’re going to make a film about a cross-dressing woman who falls in love with a man, you have to discuss sexuality and this film is not afraid to. That was my biggest beef with StM, when Viola confessed her love to Duke, the made it blatantly clear that it was “weird” and “unusual”; the editing and music cuts. It was done for comedic purposes, but in that moment, it just made me cringe. Even when the principal marched onto the field during the big match to expose Sebastian as “the woman he was all along,” he used a big megaphone and said to the whole crowd this man is in fact a girl. If it were to happen in the real world, and this character was a trans male, that would be traumatizing and so so insensitive. I couldn’t help thinking the way they handled the reveal in StM was poor and shitty.

But with JOotG (just one of the guys)? It’s done respectfully. Throughout the film, Buddy, Terry’s younger, sex-obsessed brother (I have thoughts on this character), often refers to Terry as a transvestite or sexually confused. They make references about her dating other women and jokes. It’s not treated like taboo, but just something people normally talk about, and as a questioning kid when I first watched the film, I really needed that. Although it was used for jokes, the fact that it wasn’t treated like a silent topic made me think more of it and discover who I was; it was media like this that made me accept myself.

Even with the reveal. Kevin, Terry’s boyfriend (or ex boyfriend by the end), stomps up to Terry after she’s wrestled with the school bully and was dumped into the waves at prom. Rick, who’s been Terry’s friend (and is the male lead) throughout her time at his high school, immediately questions who Kevin is and he responds with a harsh and sure “Terry’s boyfriend.” Of course, that doesn’t expose Terry as female, but makes Rick assume she’s a homosexual. But instead of calling her weird or replying negatively, he answers Kevin’s question calmly and says he’s just a friend. There is no prejudice, no disgust, Rick is shocked, but that’s expected. Furthermore, this reveal not only does not alienate homosexuality, it puts the center of focus on the main characters rather than have the whole audience/prom witness this exchange. Sure, the rest of the school is watching but the camera never pans over to them, and even then, Terry drags Rick away from the crowds to a secluded area to explain more.

Even once they’re secluded, Rick doesn’t yell at her or is homophobic. He just says “I understand, you’re gay.” As we know, Terry is not in fact gay and she reveals this to him in a similar fashion as StM, at least it’s not flashing a whole crowd. But the thing that hits me, is the fact that it’s not used as a joke or for comedy. Throughout the film, they’ve mentioned homosexuality and being transgender, but it was used as a light-hearted joke (nothing insulting or derogatory). In this moment, it’s not a joke, and it’s the bare minimum for a emotional scene like this, but it always hits me.

Of course, Rick gets justifiably mad that he’s been deceived and he storms off. Terry’s flaw catches up to her here, as she kisses him in front of the prom guests, stubborn to make him realize how much she cares. ( I didn’t agree with this action to be frank, I cringed ). The crowd gasps and it’s the usual reaction to a homosexual kiss and Rick just pulls back, says “It’s alright everyone, he’s got tits,” and leaves with Deborah.

In true romantic comedy fashion, life moves on. Terry gets the job at the Sun-Tribune after writing her article about posing as a guy and everyone who was longing for love in the beginning has found it, except Terry. The ending, however, is Rick coming back for her after a couple (days? Weeks? Idk all I know is it’s summer by the time he comes back, how much space between prom and summer?) and they kiss, go on a date and all is good.

Now after writing this long ass post, I’ve come to realize the main reason I like this film. Sure, Terry is a good character (not morally sometimes, but she’s interesting to watch), the way women are presented also is good, but my main source of affection for this film (in comparison to StM) is the way they handle the switching of genders. I’m gender fluid, I don’t always like being a woman or a man, I switch almost daily and half the time can’t decide if I want to grow out my hair or cut it. Seeing Terry, originally a woman, manage to convince people she was a guy made me wish I could do it too. It made me realize, I don’t always like being a woman. I want to be a guy sometimes, and I want that to be accepted. It was media like this, like Ouran High School Host Club, like Bare: A Pop Opera, that made me understand my gender and sexuality. (Even media that didn’t have any relation to LGBTQ+ helped).

When I first heard of “She’s the Man”, I had hoped it would be like these pieces of media. And it wasn’t. It was an alright film, but made me feel disappointed and somewhat let down. And that’s why I just prefer Just One of the Guys. Maybe it wouldn’t float in today’s political climate, maybe I’m wrong for seeing these points as reasons it’s one of my favorites, but its still better than StM and is one of my favourite films.

[songtoyou]

Epiphany - Part Four

Paring: Luke Crain x Female Reader

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,080

Warnings: Talks of drug use and recovery. Swearing and self-doubt.

Description: Life has never been easy for Luke Crain. After the death of Nell, Luke realizes that he needs to make some changes. He decided to stay in Massachusetts and attend rehab. He was determined to remain on his path of sobriety. When you get assigned to be Luke’s sponsor, it opens a new door of possibilities that neither you nor Luke expected.  

A/N: I am sorry that it has taken me so long to write and upload this chapter. I have not been feeling so good since I posted that last chapter. Lots of anxiety keeping me from doing things such as write. Anyway, here is the new chapter. I wanted to write about Aunt Janet. I felt that the show didn’t really tell us much about her except that she took care of the kids after the events of Hill House in 1992. 

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

Feedback is wonderful. It is nice knowing if people are actually liking this fic.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @morningstar09

~Aunt Janet’s House – 2002 ~

“Luke! Hurry up, or you’re going to be late for school!” Aunt Janet yelled up the stairs.

“Luke! Come on!” exclaimed Nellie. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” said Janet. Her youngest nephew often worried her, especially since it was the tenth anniversary of Olivia’s death this past summer. Janet started to notice that Luke became more recluse and stayed up in his room. The only person Luke would interact with was Nell, which was not surprising to Janet. The twins only managed to become closer as they got older.

What really began to cause Janet to worry was catching Luke steal money from her purse. She asked him what he was doing and why he was stealing. However, Luke could come up with a pretty decent lie about needing money to buy flowers for Olivia’s grave.

In truth, it was to buy beer. Luke had taken a liking to the barley and hops beverage. It helped him feel numb and not worry about anything. Unfortunately, Luke had one too many beers last night and was paying for it. Nellie found him headfirst in the toilet regurgitating the contents of his late-night beer binge.

“Eww, gross. What is wrong with you?” asked Nellie. She pinched her nose as the stench of Luke’s puke was overwhelming.

“What does it look like! I’m sick! Tell Aunt Janet that I can’t go to school.”

“Luke, come on. You have missed too many days already. They’re going to hold you back another year if you miss any more school,” Nellie argued while searching through Luke’s drawers and closet for clothes.

Luke managed to get up from the bathroom floor when he felt it was safe. He rinsed out his mouth to relieve it from the after taste of throw-up.

“Come on! Get cleaned up and put these on,” ordered Nell and shoved Luke’s clothes in his arms.

Luke groaned and plopped down on his bed. “Nellie…I can’t go to school today. I’m too sick.”

“Well, your sickness is also making me sick, but I managed to get up and ready for school today. Now move it! I’ll keep bugging you if you don’t move. I’m not going to let you fall to the waste side. Do you hear me, Luke?”

“Fine! I’m getting dressed!” Luke yelled to get Nellie off of his back.

No matter what occurred between them, neither twin could ever hate the other. They were each other’s best friends and closest confidante. They had to be. Especially now that they were the last two left in Aunt Janet’s care. As soon as their eldest siblings turned eighteen, they hightailed it out of Janet’s house for college.

Luke slowly trudges down the stairs with his backpack slumped on his shoulders.

“Hey, there he is,” greeted Aunt Janet. “Would you like some breakfast, sweetie?”

“No! No breakfast,” Luke replied with his head on the table.

However, Nellie pushed a plate of dry toast in front of him and told him to at least nibble some bites. “Here’s some orange juice. Take slow sips. The last thing we need is you spewing junks in the toilet again,” whispered Nellie while Aunt Janet was in the kitchen. She would not out that her brother was hungover. That last thing Nell wanted was to cause any more trouble for Luke.

She knew why Luke did not want to go to school, and it had to do with, what else, their family. Some of the kids at school saw Luke as an easy target to bully and terrorize. The topic of their “messed-up” family was their go-to whenever they wanted to antagonize Luke. Nell often found herself a target for bullies but could stand up for herself a lot better than Luke.

With the anniversary of Olivia’s death, the bullies made it their mission to torment Luke about growing up without a mother or father. They would push him against the lockers, knocking his glasses off his face, and trip him in the hallways. It was too much to handle, and Luke was tired.

Leaning back in his chair, Luke re-read the words on the computer screen. His instructor loved the essay he turned in and advised him to expand upon it. Luke pushed aside his reservations about exploring his past traumas through writing. It was a better outlet for Luke to help cope and tackle past stressful life experiences.  Not only did Luke have support from his instructor and you, but his counselor at Banyan Treatment Center, Rob, also supported the idea of using expressive writing as a way to heal.

Luke could not deny that writing helped clear his head. Something he learned while being in rehab back in Los Angeles. It allowed him to face things from his past that he had pushed aside. However, Luke had some reservations about how much he should…open himself up when it comes to sorting out his past events. There were still things that Luke was not quite ready to face.  

Oh my God!" exclaimed Luke. "It has been a month and a half since we have seen that movie. It would be best if you got over the ending. It happened. There is nothing you can do about it."

"I can't, Luke. It was total bullshit!" you yelled back furiously.

Luke calmly said your name to get your attention. "Listen to me; we don't even know if Steve Rogers actually stayed back in time to be with Peggy. He may have…"

"Then where did he go? Huh? He just up and left his friends who he just got back. Steve and Peggy never even dated! They kissed, that is it. Yes, there was an attraction that each had for one another, but that was all it ever way…an attraction. They are a 'what could have been' type of couple—the movie completely throughout all of Steve's character development…right out the window. Whatever, I'm over it," you stated, throwing your hands up in defeat.

You and Luke were driving to his Aunt Janet's house for a visit. He mentioned to you about wanting to visit his aunt for some time but had not gotten around to it. You were surprised that he asked you to come along.

Luke mentioned that Shirley and Theo were too busy to come with him and did not want to go alone. You agreed on the condition that he drive since Aunt Janet lived an hour and a half away from Wilmington. Lately, your anxiety has been going up and down, so you were not comfortable being at the hands of the wheel, especially on the freeway. You did not understand why you had such anxiety these past few days. You chalked it up to being nervous about your final project at school. The assignment was to create a self-portrait. It should be simple enough, but of course, the art instructor wanted students to "think outside of the box" and not have it be a regular standard portrait of themselves.

Each draft you came up with was of you in some state of turmoil, whether it be you depicted on a gurney getting resuscitated from your heroin overdose or lying in a pool of your own vomit. You could not understand why this particular project was giving you such a hard time. You were three-years sober. You had a steady job and gone back to school. Your relationship with your parents was better than ever. So, why the thought of a self-portrait brought upon negative thoughts about oneself?

You mentioned your troubles to Luke, and he was very sympathetic. While he was now 206 days sober, there were times where he felt…like the achievement did not mean much.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked him while on the way to Aunt Janet's house.

"It's just…this isn't my first rodeo when it comes to recovery," Luke began to say. "There is always this little voice in the back of my head that…"

"That it is only temporary. I have that little voice too. I'm not too fond of that little voice. Three years sober, and there are times where I still feel like a total failure. I shouldn't, but…I can't help it," you revealed to Luke honestly.

"Thankfully, there is another little voice in the back of my head that gives tells me that I'm doing a good job now and then. It's just that positive little voice has been a tad quiet lately," you added.

Luke could pick up on the little defeatist tone in your voice, and he did not like it. You immediately felt his worry about you. "Hey," you said to get his attention and placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry about me, okay. I'm fine. I have my fears like every recovering addict. It is nice to talk to someone about it, particularly someone who understands, you know. That helps."

Silence soon filled the car, but it was not awkward. You never had awkward or uncomfortable silences with Luke. For some reason, Luke was one of the few comforting presences in your life. Regardless of all of the hardships he has gone through in his life, he offered a sense of hopefulness. With his 6'3 stature, Luke really came off more like a gentle giant. It was like he did not view himself as this grown tall man, but probably still felt like that little kid hiding under the bed from the "Tall Man" at Hill House.

"Luke," you said to get his attention. "Are you happy?"

"No," he replied immediately, then clarified when he saw the look you gave him. "I mean, am I happy that I am over 200 days clean, then yes I am, very much so. But…I don't know, there is a small part of me that is scared to be happy…to be content in fear of something going wrong."

When Luke pulled the car into Aunt Janet's driveway, the older woman immediately came out of the house to greet her youngest nephew.

"There he is, my little boy," she said and wrapped her arms around Luke, which he reciprocated.

"Hi Aunt Janet, how are you?"

"I'm fine, darling. How have you been?" Aunt Janet asked, pulling away to get a good look at Luke. He looked much better than he did at Nell's funeral.

"Good. I'm doing good. Everyone is doing…fine," Luke replied, then turned towards you. He introduced you as his friend and not his sponsor to his Aunt, which kind of surprised you.

"So nice to meet you," said Aunt Janet taking your hand. She motioned for you both to follow her into the house. "I hope you both are hungry. I made an array of sandwiches and salads for lunch. Luke, I also made your favorite…chocolate pecan pie bars."

"Thank the Lord because he was hoping you would make them on the car ride here. It was all he talked about?" you teased.

"Once you have one, then you will know what I am talking about," Luke responded with a smile.

Aunt Janet lead you both into the kitchen.

"Can I use the bathroom to freshen up?" you asked her.

"Oh yes, dear. It is down that hallway, the first door to the right," told Aunt Janet as she showed you where to go. "Luke, you should probably wash your hands first," she added.

"Yes, Aunt Janet," he said and went to the sink to wash his hands.

When you were no longer in earshot, Aunt Janet stood beside her nephew and said, "Your friend seems really sweet."

Luke could not hold back his smile, "Yeah, she is genuinely nice. She's fun to hang out with. We have a lot of the same interests. Shirley and Theo have met her as well," he mentioned and shared that both of his sisters really liked you.

Aunt Janet turned her head to see if you came if you were around the corner. When you were not, she leaned over to Luke and said, "Very pretty too. She'd make a lovely…"

"Aunt Janet, she is just a friend. I can't date her anyway. She's…they say you shouldn't date anyone while still in recovery."

"I'm so proud of you," Aunt Janet said as she placed the food on the kitchen table. "You are becoming the man I always knew you could be."

Luke would be lying to himself if he denied that there was some form of attraction that he had for you, both physically and emotionally. He knew that the feelings that he was slowly developing towards you could be considered wrong. You were his sponsor…a dedicated one at that too. It would not be right for him to act on any attraction he may have for you—no doubt, that you would not reciprocate them, which would be disappointing to Luke.

"Better to just suffer in silence," Luke thought to himself.

"Don't you want a girlfriend? A family of your own someday?" asked Aunt Janet.

"Yeah…maybe. Someday. I'm just learning to take care of myself without drugs in my system. There is no way I can be a dedicated father or husband to anyone… at least not right now. I am still a work in progress," Luke admitted to his aunt. "I do like…" But Luke stopped when he heard your footsteps approaching.

"Oh, my goodness. The pictures on the wall… I'm assuming the little kid with glasses is you, Luke."

The three of you sat around the kitchen table with your plates stacked with delicious food.

"Luke was the absolute cutest kid. He had a little lisp as well," Aunt Janet shared. "I have more pictures of the kids if you would like to see them?"

"Yes," you replied ecstatically.

"No," Luke disputed, "We are in the middle of eating."

"We can multitask. Let's see those pictures," you asserted gleefully while Aunt Janet got up from the table.

With a belly full of food, the three you were now sitting outside on the patio, drinking tea, and eating Aunt Janet's yummy chocolate pecan pie bars. You already looked through three photo albums that showed Luke and his siblings' younger years.

"I wanted to take as many pictures as I could of the kids. They hated it, but I told 'em they would appreciate it when they got older," expressed Aunt Janet. "Here's a picture of Nell on her wedding day. That's her husband, Arthur. Sadly, he passed away a couple of months after they got married. But…they are together now."

You looked at the photo of the young couple. Nell looked very much like her older sisters and her mother. You could tell that there was a kindness about Nell just by looking at the picture. She was the type of person to go above and beyond for her family and even strangers. Luke would say that Nell was just that type of person to care about everyone, no matter who they were or where they came from.

Luke did share with you that one of his biggest regrets was not going to Nell's wedding. He said that he tried, but Shirley told him to leave. Luke said that it was for the best and that he was in no right state of mind to support his twin the way she deserved on her wedding day.

Thankfully for Luke, Nell understood and held no hard feelings. She never did when it came to her other half.

Aunt Janet began to sniffle, and when you looked up from the photo, you saw the older woman dab her eyes with a napkin. Out of instinct, Luke grabbed his Aunt's tiny hand and squeezed it with his as a way to show support. Just as he was Aunt Janet's little boy, Nell was her little girl. She was the one to raise them, take care of them, and guide them into adulthood.

None of the Crain children were perfect; they were far beyond that notion. However, there is no denying that if they did not have Aunt Janet take care of them and love them, they could have been worse off. Luke had the overwhelming feeling of guilt encompassing him at the moment as Aunt Janet tried to hold back her tears.

You instantly looked up at Luke. You could feel his sense of guilt towards the way he treated his aunt while growing up. He looked over at you. It was a silent conversation you both were having between one another. You mouthed, "Do you want me to go?" so he could have this moment alone.

With a shake of his head, 'No,' Luke spoke up to get his aunt's attention. "Aunt Janet…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for…for all the Hell I put you through while living here. You did so much for Nell and me, and the others that I…shit all over it. I stole and lied to you like it was my job. You deserved better. I just want you to know that…me getting hooked on drugs…well…that was…no matter what had happened…it was my choice to go down that path of destruction. I love you, Aunt Janet, and I am so appreciative of the sacrifices you made for my siblings and me. I wish that I weren't such a fuck up…"

"Oh sweetheart, no, you are not a…fuck up," Aunt Janet interjected and continued, "Not at all. I love you so much that…I would do anything for you, you know that, right? Your childhood is in the past. It happened. It is a part of you. The fact that you are continuing to remain clean after all that has occurred…well, that is something you should be most proud of. It shows that you are dedicated to your sobriety and turning your life around. No one said this process was easy, but you stayed the course and continued to make good decisions. As I told you earlier, you are becoming the man I always knew you could be."

"Now, I'm going to cry," Luke giggled as he dabbed his eyes with a napkin. "I didn't mean to turn this into a sob fest, but I wanted you to know that I'm sorry for what I put you through and that I love you very much, Aunt Janet."

Aunt Janet emerged from her seat to wrap her arms around her nephew and kiss the top of his head. It was a sweet moment to witness.

[i-am-out-of-my-vulcan-mind]

To Forgive and Forget - Chapter 7

Hello! 

I've finally managed to write enough for it to be considered long enough to be a chapter xD 

Sorry for leaving you all on such an evil cliffhanger. 

Thank you to my wonderful @lurkingwhump for helping me structure this chapter. As always I'm so grateful for your help.

I hope you enjoy this chapter and would appreciate any feedback or ideas! 

Kurt waited with his head in his hands. He had gone from pacing, to being too utterly drained to even move. He was completely spent, both physically and emotionally. 

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had been ushered out of Jane's room, but so far, he hadn't heard anything. 

He had managed to flick a quick message to the team, updating them on Jane - though there wasn't much he could really tell them, when he himself did not know what was happening. 

Another twenty minutes passed, before a doctor he didn't recognize entered the otherwise empty waiting room.

"Kurt Weller?" she asked, approaching him.

He raised his head from his hands, too overwhelmed to speak. 

The doctor took this as confirmation and took a seat beside him. 

"I'm Doctor Murphy." she introduced herself. "Doctor Thompson has taken Jane back into surgery." 

'Well at least she wasn't dead ' Kurt thought to himself.

At Kurt's silence, she continued.

"Jane's blood pressure dropped dramatically - an indication she had started hemorrhaging internally again. They've had to open her up again, to try and stop the bleed."

Kurt nodded, still unable to form words. His brain was whirring with all of the possibilities that Jane might not make it out of this alive. Doctor Thompson had said the first forty eight hours were crucial to her recovery… did this mean because she had gone backwards, that her survival rate was even slimmer than before?

"Do you have any questions?" Doctor Murphy asked sympathetically. Her eyes were kind, and Kurt could tell that she genuinely cared for her patients. 

He shook his head, unable to ask what Jane's new odds of survival were.

She patted him on the shoulder.

"Ok." she said standing up. "Someone will be back to update you as soon as possible." She offered a small smile, which Kurt could not find in himself to return, not even to be polite. 

The doctor left the room, leaving him alone again. 

Being alone in that hospital waiting room, he felt the dark thoughts starting to close in on him. The guilt was starting to crush him. He had never in their relationship, spoken to Jane like that before. Not even when she got back from the blacksite and he couldn't even bare to be in the same room as her. Even then, he had at least tried to treat her with a level of professionalism. Though this time, she was his wife. 

There was no need to treat her with kiddy gloves and because of that, when the rage surfaced in regards to Clem, he didn't even try to hold back. 

He had been so worked up about finding the girl, that he had been blind to what was right in front of him. Jane really had just been trying to help… even Kurt knew that Clem had contacts all over the world - he was almost as well connected as Nas. 

But all he had been able to see, was her naked, sprawled out on top of a man that wasn't him and all of the hurt and pain had come crashing back down. 

Working this case had definitely dragged up some painful memories, and he was ashamed that he had chosen to take it out on his wife. Especially when he knew that this case had caused some painful memories of her own to surface. The state of the basement, had been similar to the orphanage she and her brother had grown up in - but he had been so wrapped up in his own emotions, he hadn't even considered how she must be feeling. 

Now she could die… now he might never get a chance to say that he's sorry. 

He hung his head in his hands again, feeling overcome with guilt. 

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A couple more hours passed and Kurt still hadn't heard anything. He was about to lose his shit, when a familiar figure appeared in the doorway.

"Allie…" he whispered, relief washing over him in waves. He got to his feet and was pulled into a strong hug.

"I came as soon as I heard." she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Patterson called me last night before she left for the hospital… when she found out how bad Jane had been hurt, she thought you could use the support." she explain, as they both sat down on the hard hospital chairs. 

"Thank you." he choked out sincerely. 

"How is she doing?" Allie asked quietly, almost too afraid to hear what he might say. Patterson had told her Jane had been shot and that she had coded in the helicopter, but apart from that the extent of her injuries were unknown. 

"Honestly… things aren't looking great." he said sadly. "She's back in theatre now… she started hemorrhaging internally again."

"Oh Kurt…" Allie said, placing a hand on his knee. "She's gonna be ok."

He shook his head, images of her lifeless body flashing through his mind.

"They've had to remove her spleen and a lobe of her lung…  she's lost so much blood already…" he cleared his throat, choking back a sob. "They said the first forty eight hours were crucial to her recovery… but she's…" he looked up at Allie, his eyes welling up with grief. "I can't lose her Allie… I just can't." And with that he lost the battle and dissolved into a fit of tears.

"Oh come here." Allie murmured, reaching out and wrapping him in her arms. "It's gonna be ok Kurt." she said softly. "The two of you have been through too much for this to be the end." She let go of him, holding him at arm's length. Looking into his tear stricken eyes, she said, "You have to remain strong for her, ok? Jane needs you to stay strong."

He nodded softly, taking a deep breath to try and control his emotions. She reached out and wiped his tears off his face. She had never seen him like this before. The man sitting beside her was one she did not recognise. Sure, he looked like the Kurt Weller she knew and loved, but the broken look on his face was causing him to look like a stranger. 

"Even if she does wake up… she's probably going to hate me anyway." he said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Allie cocked her head to the side.

"Now why would you say that?"

He hung his head 

"We had an argument. Right before she got shot."

He looked at her confused expression and hung his head.

"We said some pretty hurtful things to each other."

Allie reached out and took his hand. 

"Kurt… when Jane wakes up… she's not going to care about a silly little fight. All she is going to care about is that she survived, and that you are right by her side."

Kurt looked gratefully up at his friend. The confidence in her voice had him believing what she was saying, could actually be true. His wife could wake up… she could forgive him. If they were to move forward from this they were going to have to forgive and forget - and honestly, after everything they had been through the last twenty four hours, that was definitely not going to be a problem for him.

"Thank you for coming, Allie." he said, his voice emotional.

"Of course." she replied matter of factly. "You and Jane are family." 

He blew out a lungful of air.

"Did you bring Bethany?" he asked, both hopeful that she did and that she didn't. 

Allie shook her head. 

"I didn't think it was a good idea her seeing Jane like this. Connor said he can bring her later if necessary…"

Kurt let her words hang in the air. 

He knew that Bee would be too young to understand what was happening with Jane, but if it came to it… he would love it if she got to say goodbye. 

He shut down that part of his brain again, trying to focus on Allie's words from earlier. He had to remain strong for Jane. She was right. There was no point dwelling on the negatives until he had all of the answers. 

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Doctor Thompson appeared in the doorway, looking disheveled, to say the least. Kurt jumped to his feet, approaching the doctor.

"How… how is she?" he stammered.

The doctor smiled softly.

"She pulled through." he replied, gesturing for them to take a seat.

Kurt collapsed back into his chair, relief washing over him. His emotions were so overwhelming, he thought he might cry again.

"We've managed to stabilize the bleeding… and honestly… she is doing really well… better than expected." the doctor offered them a small smile. "Your wife is one hell of a fighter." 

Kurt managed a smile back at that.

"That she is." he agreed. "When can I see her?" he asked, hopeful that it would be soon.

"She will be transferred back to the ICU shortly. She's already been in recovery for about an hour." At seeing Kurt's slight frown, he added. "I apologize for not coming to update you sooner, but I wanted to stay with Jane to make sure she was doing alright."

Kurt nodded his appreciation. He was about to get his hackles up at not being notified the moment she was out of surgery, but he was grateful to the doctor for keeping a close eye on her.

"We will be keeping her sedated for the next forty eight hours, to give her body the best chance at healing." Doctor Thompson explained. "But my hopes are still high that she will make a full recovery." 

"Thank you." Kurt said, offering his hand for the doctor to shake.

Doctor Thompson took his hand, giving a small nod. "Again these next forty eight hours are crucial. I don't want to lead you with false hope. She is still very unwell."

"Understood." Kurt said, knowing full well what could happen, should she start to bleed again. Her body would be exhausted. There was no way she could survive another surgery.

 "Someone will be along soon to notify you when Jane has been transferred." 

"Ok… thank you again." Kurt replied. How could one express the amount of gratitude he was currently feeling. The man had literally stood between Jane and death and managed to win. There was no way he could thank him enough for saving his wife's life yet again. 

The doctor smiled a tired smile, before leaving Kurt and Allie alone again. 

Kurt exhaled deeply, turning to look at Allie. 

"I told you she would be ok." she said, earning a lighter expression to his face. Seeing the relief running through him was like a breath of fresh air. 

"Allie… I-"

"Save it." she said, cutting him off. "You don't need to thank me again."

Kurt smirked sheepishly at her. She knew him far too well. Apart from Jane, she knew him better than anyone. 

They sat in companionable silence, both relishing in the relief than Jane had pulled through the surgery. They both knew there was a long way to go to recovery, but the fact that Jane was 'one hell of a fighter' as the doctor had put it, had them almost hopeful that she would make it out of this alive. 

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A nurse came to collect Kurt once Jane had been transferred. Allie opted to stay in the waiting room to give them some privacy.

Tentatively, Kurt approached her, reaching out and taking her pinky finger again. 

"Oh Jane…" he murmured, taking a seat beside her. "You've gotta stop scaring me like that." Like before, his only response was the hiss of the ventilator. He reached out, brushing the hair off her face as gently as possible.

"I just wanted to say again… I'm so sorry about our argument… Allie says you'll forgive me… but I know you're probably gonna be pretty pissed off at me still… you're bloody stubborn that way." he chuckled quietly. "I need you to rest baby… rest and heal so you can wake up and be mad at me…" he paused for a second, taking in her pale features. "I don't care how angry you are at me when you wake up… so long as you do wake up." 

He let a tear escape from his eye.

"No more Jane…" he begged. "I don't think I can take much more." 

He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his stubbled face. He was exhausted, but there was no way he would be leaving Jane's side until he was literally escorted off the premises. He would use the power of his badge for as long as he possibly could. 

"Sweet dreams, baby." he whispered, feeling the same sense of hopelessness that he had the last time he had said that to her. Though at least this time, the healing was up to her. There were no rare cells that needed to be found in order to save her life. He didn't think he had ever been more thankful that she was so stubborn. 

He knew if she lived, it would be out of share willpower. 

[verus-veritas]

Metabods: Change of Mind (1)

Time for another favourite story of mine. It’s a bodyswap story written by “Mango Deville” on the Metabods site. I really, really love this story and it’s definitely one of the Top 3 Best Bodyswap Stories of all time! /Verus

This happened a few years ago now.

Stuart was just lying there, unable to do anything with his life. I had come into his room on a late night prowl of the hospice made more restless than normal that night due to the news I had received that day. My suspicions had been confirmed, I had inoperable liver, stomach and bowel cancer giving me only a few more months to live.

Not that I could really complain, at 64 years of age I know that I had had a reasonably long and active life. Although I hadn't been in an intimate relationship since my last lover and I parted company twenty-five years ago I had to be grateful for what I'd had. Let's face it, it was a life of sorts at least, unlike some of the patients whose physical welfare I tended as the resident physician and who tonight I looked in on. Most were here only due to the “wonders” of modern medical technology.

Case in point was Stuart here, 23-year-old son of a wealthy industrialist, all but killed in a motorcycle accident on the family estate about a year ago; physically his young body had healed completely, flawlessly you might even say. His brain, however, had never recovered; he had never regained consciousness and brain scans failed to reveal any activity. In a less advanced society he would have died and been laid to rest after the accident. But his parents had denied him this natural process, refusing to accept the medical facts and well able to afford 24 x 7 intensive care for what was basically only the shell of the vivacious and high-spirited man-boy that I had also known, as private physician to the family. His mother regularly spent long hours by his bedside trying to revive him with her conversation and massaging his surprisingly still very fit body; there were hardly any signs of wasting away, a rare situation that gave her hope. But there was never any response and it was probably a matter of time before they finally accepted the inevitable and let him go.

I looked ruefully at Stuart, his chest rising and falling rhythmically but somehow mechanically; in the dim light I could see the heart stimulating pad that was taped to his firm chest. A respirator sat beside the bed but it was not expected to ever be used. During my tenure at the hospice I had grown to accept the tragic waste of patients like this as part of life's cruel irony. In the soft glow of the machines that were keeping his body alive and on that day of all days the irony of the empty shell of such a beautiful youth lying here for want of an active brain resounded heavily in my mind. Irony, because for want of just such a healthy body my brain would soon be silent like his.

Many thoughts had gone through my head that day but I don't quite know what prompted me to decide to try out such a crazy idea. For some years to relieve the boredom of my normal work I had experimented with brain wave patterning, always with laboratory animals of course but ultimately as a possible means of cancelling out criminal and antisocial behaviour in humans too. I was not unaware of the ethical dilemma of this concept but was not really expecting any major breakthroughs to need to worry about those realities now, if ever. And now it appears that nothing would ever come of it anyway, despite some interesting results among some of the larger mammal subjects I had tried lately. The concept was for the “good” brain wave patterns of one subject to be read into a computer and “mapped” into the other subject's brain, erasing the negative patterns. I had been experimenting with horses recently (the hospice kept a few for the active but terminally ill patients to enjoy) but to get the strength of signal required there had been problems with feedback. The donor subject would get some of the recipient's brainwaves back through the system, usually for example it would respond to the recipient's name (as well as it's own still) and other behavioural anomalies. It was as though there'd been a slight merger of memory. Certainly the recipient benefited from the experience as behavioural patterns immediately took on the donor horse's profile; it even responded to the donor horse's name! There was some evidence of a merger on this side too.

Of course all this experimentation was done on the quiet and was completely unknown to the other staff of the hospice, but I had documented everything I had done on the laptop and the main copies were on my desktop computer at home.

Perhaps it was ill-formed thought processes caused by the reaction to my bad news but also there was a feeling that maybe my experiments could help Stuart here and perhaps other patients like him. There was not also some degree of pride in the thought that my “brain” was somewhat worth saving; having been gay all my life had meant I had not had children to pass any of my characteristics on to. Perhaps I could pass my brainwaves over to Stuart and he would be able to function again? At the same time it would be like I was passing him some of myself, my characteristics so that he could make use of them. I decided there was nothing for either of us to lose, either of our lives would be measured in months now, as things stood.

So that night I went back to my office and got my experimental apparatus, consisting of a laptop computer, a pair of skullcaps, an electrical transformer and some loops of wiring to connect them all together. On my return I plugged in the transformer and connected the skullcaps to it and the laptop in parallel. I booted up the computer and loaded the program and realised I would need to modify the parameters for the different body weights (for the electrical charges) and relative brain masses (for the mapping) of humans compared to horses. I entered the data and the computer quickly calculated the settings it would feed to the rest of the apparatus. I positioned a chair by the bed and placed the laptop next to Stuart's left arm, facing the chair. I then placed the recipient's skullcap on his head and located it carefully, as I had learned the criticality of its correct positioning with the previous experiments. Stuart at least did not move with the unfamiliarity of it, unlike the horses.

The other cap I placed on my own head and, using the mirror across the room over the washbasin in which I could see myself from where I stood next to the bed, positioned it carefully. I sat on the chair and placed my right hand in Stuart's left one and clasped it tightly (this wasn't necessary but I appreciated the feeling of warmth it gave me). With my left hand I clicked the laptop mouse button to initiate the sequence. I remember the feeling of buzzing in my brain rising from almost nothing to what no doubt had caused the horses to react nervously. For them I had resorted to mild sedatives recently but had not even thought of it for myself, having only just decided to do this on the spur of the moment. It was nothing really compared to some of the pain of the cancers I was carrying in my body. The buzzing was getting to be most objectionable and I remember thinking that at least I was confident that Stuart would not be feeling anything. And then I blacked out.

I woke with a jolt, the buzzing in my head was down again to a bare minimum. I went to open my eyes but the lids seemed strangely heavy as they do when you are awakened suddenly from a long deep sleep. My eyes took some time to focus clearly though there was no problem seeing with the light in the room—I could make out the clock on the wall across from me, it read a quarter to 1, about 12 minutes after I had started my “experiment”.

Then it struck me! I was looking at the clock from a different angle from what I should have, sitting on the low patient's chair beside the bed; I was higher than that and my neck was at a reclined angle from which it was a slight strain to focus on the clock. And I could feel a hand in mine but it was my left hand, not my right one!

Noting the stiffness of my body I pushed myself upright with my free hand and realised it was the bed I was on, not the chair! And the hand I was holding was that of an older overweight man who was slumped motionless in that very chair I was sure I had been sitting in only minutes before. And that man was me! I was looking at my own body from afar—was this an out-of-body experience? Slightly panicky, I searched the room and my eyes fell onto the mirror over the washbasin and there was the ultimate shock! Looking back at me was Stuart, animated and sitting up in bed! And I saw the startled look on his face in complete accord with my emotions. I moved my head and Stuart moved his too! I raised my right arm and waved my hand and Stuart raised his arm and waved back at me. How could this be, was this possible, was I inside of Stuart's body?

Just then the fact that I (or was it Stuart?) was still wearing the skullcap caught my attention—perhaps instead of merely transferring brainwaves more than that had gone across; my consciousness in fact! So where had Stuart's consciousness gone? But then he hadn't had any consciousness had he? Is that why my (former) body lay slouched in the chair? As the thought dawned on me I instinctively reached up and removed the skullcap and it's wiring from my.. er.. Stuart's head. How would I explain this, that the former me was now at least comatose possibly dead and I was now alive inside of Stuart's body? It would appear to everyone that I had “stolen” his body! And what a body to steal! Prime of youth 6 foot 2 23 year old with a slim but muscular physique, blue green eyes and sandy coloured hair. And then there was his flawless skin, skin that when he arrived last year had acquired a golden hue from outdoor activities in the summer months but was by now somewhat paler from his time in the hospice. No one would ever understand.

I reached over and saw that my former self was indeed lifeless. Without brain activity and the life-support system that had kept Stuart's body alive all these months it had probably taken no time at all for the body to die, certainly less than the 10 minutes I had been unconscious. There was obviously no going back now. In a strangely horrified reaction to something that I had called “me” for over 60 years I shook free of the hand that still clasped mine.

Perhaps I could hide what had actually happened? My brain ticked over quickly—I would have to remove all traces of the “experiment”. With some effort I reached over and removed the skullcap from what was formerly my head. I wrapped the two of them together and reaching down to the other side of the bed, opened the cupboard door and tossed them inside. The transformer was a standard issue one though there had not been need of one for any of the equipment in Stuart's room. Again with some effort I reached down and switched it off. I picked up the laptop computer from the bed; I could see from its display that it had been coordinating and recording the miraculous process that I had just been through. Somehow I had to save this data but not let it get into anyone else's hands, of course. Fortunately I had previously loaded a rewriteable CD into the machine as I had previously found this to be the easiest and most secure way to transfer data from my experiments to the desktop at home. I quickly typed in the commands to copy the data onto the CD, noting the stiffness in my fingers. I guess when you haven't used your muscles for months, as Stuart hadn't, you can't expect them to be anything but stiff, despite his mother's massages.

My immediate thought was to delete the files from the laptop lest someone discover them but stopped myself; I normally waited till I knew the CD could be read before deleting the files, a habit formed from making an early mistake with saving data. I remembered I could encrypt them so did so and set the password to “Change_Of_Mind”, my “codename” for the experimental work I had been doing. I removed the CD and placed it into an empty CD case that I saw was lying on top of the bedside cupboard, next to the portable CD player with which I had seen Stuart's mother play his favourite music in her efforts to revive him.

Finally I pushed my former body back into the chair and slumped it over to one side (away from me).

I closed down the experiment program and opened my expenses spreadsheet, did a minor change so that it would look like I had been working on it, and launched the screensaver program. I positioned the machine on “my” lap and arranged “my” right hand as though I had been typing but it had fallen loose.

Satisfied that most of the evidence of my experiment was now removed and a plausible view of “my” former body's death was established I lay back for a minute to think about how I could “become Stuart”. I knew the boy well enough, delivering him and being the family physician for all his 23 years, but it was gonna to be hard for them to accept the inevitable differences in our personalities. I decided that perhaps they would believe that it was the result of the months of coma, a form of amnesia, maybe. I, too, would need to remember what it was like to be young and free of worries.

I had been lying there for about 15 minutes and realised one last thing. I was supposed to be comatose and there I would be perfectly normal in the morning when someone would find us. Only one thing to do, knock myself out for some time and then I could “awake”, to everyone's miraculous relief, no doubt! I remembered the tranquillisers that I had been using to give myself a few hours sleep each night, relief from the pain of the cancers. They were in my breast pocket! I reached over and gently removed the strip, took four from it, replaced the rest and then smoothed down the jacket again. From the cupboard I took the glass of water Stuart's mother used to moisten his lips... er... my lips with. Swallowing the pills was not easy (even my throat muscles were unused to activity) but after a moment I'd got them all down.

I lay for another 10 minutes or so before I could feel their effect but while I was waiting another thought occurred to me. Once or twice I had arrived to visit Stuart as the hospice's Chief nurse Peter had been finishing sponge bathing Stuart. I had been slightly jealous of the strongly built male nurse's job, really only when it came to Stuart, I admit, but couldn't help wondering at his enthusiasm to take on this particular patient with such personal zeal. My suspicions were confirmed when driving past a gay bar on the other side of town one night I saw Peter coming out of the bar, and he wasn't alone. That was some time back and I had seen him again on two more recent occasions also leaving the bar. But both of the later times he was alone which had surprised me because not only was he well built but he was quite good looking with a white blond mop of hair and possibly Nordic features. I reminded myself that gay life in our town was not necessarily a hectic social whirl (it certainly never had been for me my whole life) and with shift work perhaps Peter did not often meet other available gay men. The second time I saw him come out alone I actually felt real sympathy for the man.

On the last occasion that I had arrived before Peter had quite finished Stuart's sponge batch I discovered that he was gently cleansing Stuart's genitals, and the sight of it was enough to make me even more jealous. From where I stood at the doorway I could see that Stuart's penis and balls were quite large and not only was Peter bathing them meticulously he was obviously enjoying the moment too, from the sizeable bulge I could see in his white uniform trousers. I momentarily wondered had Stuart gotten an erection then, as a response to the warm soapy water, whether Peter would have “helped him out” if he had thought he was not likely to be disturbed. The thought had sustained me for a number of nights in my own bed, too.

I raised my “new” hand and looked at it; it was a reasonable size for a man. I then thrust it down under the covers until I located “my” genitals. Sure enough the penis I felt there was a size that surprised me even at such close quarters and my balls were easily larger than my hand could grasp together. I could almost feel an erection coming on (I was starting to get used to feeling things through Stuart's body) but the tranquillisers were kicking in. Instead I contentedly dropped the weighty objects between “my” legs and fell into a heavy sleep in which, I am now convinced, parts of Stuart's life were revealed to me in flashbacks. This would prove to be a common occurrence over the next few months.

(End of part one)

Source: “Change of mind” by Mango Deville on Metabods.com

[feynavaley]

Hetalia Fanfiction – Chrysalis Ch 18

Summary: Marguerite Williams is a shy, unremarkable Canadian girl. She is used to being ignored, after all, there’s nothing worthy of attention in her, and she didn’t expect anything to change after moving to the US. She certainly didn’t expect a boisterous American boy, an eccentric French neighbour, and a group of quirky teens determined to prove her wrong.

The chapter is finally up, I really hope you’ll enjoy it! :) And any kind of feedback is always appreciated <3 (full chapter under the cut, use your phone browser if you can’t see it from the app)

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse. Please do keep in mind that the relationship between canon!America and nyo!Canada isn’t established in canon. Obviously, I write them as unrelated.

AO3 | FFN | First | Previous | Next | List

———

Chapter Eighteen

Maggie waited with anticipation for the end of the period, glancing from time to time at the clock. While Miss Chevalier’s soporific voice had almost lulled her into the daze of sleep during the previous hour, she presently found herself once again alert, the exhaustion fading as her heart rate picked up speed. By the time the last bell rang, Maggie felt like she was almost vibrating in her seat.

Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she tried to behave in her habitual way as she parted from the classroom, but she couldn’t hide the unusual spring in her steps that manifested her internal trepidation. She didn’t even stop at the locker – there would be time, but later. She weaved through the crowd, slipping unnoticed through the swarm of people until finally, she reached an empty corridor and broke into a run. As her eyes fixed on the destination, her heart fluttered, making her hands shake.

As soon as Maggie pushed the door open, a pair of strong arms snaked around her waist.

“There you are. I missed you,” a voice whispered into her ear.

Maggie turned to look at Alfred’s bright blue eyes, her heart beating wildly and her legs feeling weak. When their lips met, Maggie thought she would faint. One thing was sure: Alfred’s kissing technique had improved, after their first official date. And if Maggie had thought she would have ever grown accustomed to the feeling, she had been severely wrong.

Even if the kiss didn’t last long, it left Maggie with her head spinning. She let her forehead rest against Alfred’s shoulder and melted into him. Her lips curled into a small smile as his arms tightened their strong hold around her. Alfred was safe, and Maggie belonged to him – or better, they belonged together. Maggie would have never imagined she could have something like that.

Of course, the hug increased the pain of the fresh bruises throbbing on her sides and back – but she supposed that it was what she deserved, a reminder that her relationship with Alfred was against Steve’s rules. Maybe, if she worked hard enough, Maggie would one day grow into a better person and even the annoyance of the constant pains would fade. She hoped so.

Unfortunately, on that day, they didn’t have more than a few minutes to spare.

“I wish we could stay like this for longer,” Alfred muttered into her hair. “But I guess I brought this upon myself, didn’t I?”

Maggie raised her head and offered him a smile.

“Well, not doing your homework and getting into class late isn’t going to get you into the grace of your teachers, that’s for sure.”

As soon as the words seeped out of her lips, Maggie’s stomach twisted with the realization that she might have gone a bit too far – but the twinkle in Alfred’s eyes hadn’t faded.

He shook his head, the pout twisting his lips more amused than offended.

“Touché. Man, I so hate school… But I guess— no, I know you’re right. I need to hear this, from time to time.”

The pang of guilt faded into Maggie’s widening smile. She let her sight bask into Alfred’s bright, sincere eyes. She was his girlfriend, she now had the ultimate proof Alfred was not going to mind her interference.

“I love when you speak your mind. You should do it more often,” he had declared on another occasion.

Maggie was still getting adjusted to it. Yet, under the anxious fear of an unwanted reaction, she couldn’t deny that not bottling up every negative thought made her feel lighter. Alfred made her feel better than she had ever thought she would – and not spending an afternoon together wasn’t going to change that.

With a sigh, Alfred finally loosened his hold around Maggie, and she mirrored his action. Side by side, they walked out of the room, their fingers brushing. Maggie let herself linger in the warmth of Alfred’s hand for as long as she could, but once out of the corridor, she forced herself to create a wider distance.

“Not here,” she whispered, ducking her head.

Alfred huffed.

“Relax, nobody will see anything odd.”

Maggie’s stomach coiled with uneasiness. Alfred was probably right, to any onlooker, their relationship wasn’t different from how it had always been. In a way, it was even true – being Alfred’s girlfriend hadn’t taken anything out of their friendship, it had just added a deeper layer. Considering that Alfred had always been fond of physical contact, the change was probably hard to detect from an outside perspective – but Maggie was hyperaware of it, every molecule of her couldn’t forget about the different meaning Alfred’s touches held. It ran so deep that her subconscious couldn’t be convinced other people wouldn’t notice.

Alfred didn’t make another attempt to take her hand, however. His features fell for a moment, but the smile blossomed once again on his lips when his eyes met Maggie’s.

Maggie couldn’t stop thinking about him – looking at him. After they stopped at Alfred’s locker, she kept standing there, staring at his shoulders as they moved away from her, squared and confident.

‘One day, I’ll be worthy of you. We won’t have to hide anything, then.’

Maggie had no idea of how she could accomplish that feat, but Alfred had chosen her, and with his trust, he was giving her the best opportunity she would ever have. She couldn’t just give up. 

After Alfred had disappeared from her sight, Maggie straightened up and started heading toward her locker. Now that she was alone, exhaustion was once again settling into her body, making her limbs heavy and her steps sluggish. With the corridors now empty, she walked with her head down, not worrying about running into somebody – until her ears caught an unexpected sound. 

Maggie stiffened and straightened up, once again alert. A moment later, she was able to identify a faint giggle.

‘Is anybody still here?’

Maggie inched closer to the corner, careful to keep her steps light. A caustic part of her brain ridiculed her overcautiousness – but once she was close enough to identify the voice, her stomach twisted with the confirmation that her instinct had been right.

“Have you read it already? We don’t have all day!”

Alyssa’s sharp whisper brought a pang of uneasiness to Maggie’s stomach. Neither Alyssa nor her friends had their lockers in the vicinity, they had no good reason to be there. Or better, they had an excellent – if unsavoury – one.

Maggie knew that she should have waited. She knew what Alyssa was doing. She couldn’t even imagine the consequences of being caught spying – she didn’t want to imagine them. She should have turned around and gotten back to her locker only later.

Even so, Maggie’s feet refused to obey her brain. Ignoring the painful churning of her stomach, her legs inched closer and closer to the corner until she was standing just at the edge of the wall. With her chest so tight that she could barely breathe, Maggie peered over the corner.

Nothing happened.

The five girls who were standing in a half-circle in front of Maggie’s locker didn’t move away. With their backs facing Maggie, they hadn’t noticed her. In spite of the way all her instincts were screaming at her to run, Maggie allowed herself another moment to analyse the situation. The four lackeys were giggling as they handed one another a white piece of paper while Alyssa stood at the corner, her back rigid and her arms folded across her chest.

Maggie leaned back against the wall. Her heart was beating wildly, her head spinning. She knew what was into that note.

‘Go away,’ Maggie’s brain begged her, but her legs were stuck to the floor. 

Her school bag was hanging from her right shoulder, heavy as a rock. In the front pocket, rested her phone.

‘This is stupid. I should just go away before they see me.’

But her fingers were already fishing into the pocket. The smooth metal was under them, burning.

‘Don’t do this don’t do this it’s so stupid just go away…’

Even so, that moment could make all the difference, in the future. While Maggie knew that Alyssa was the culprit, she had never had any concrete evidence aside from her behaviour. What if she ever needed it? It was an unlikely occurrence, Maggie wasn’t going to land herself – nor anybody else – in trouble by denouncing Alyssa. She couldn’t deny that the opportunity was unique, however.

The phone was in her hands. Maggie took a deep breath, then opened the camera with a quick tap. The slim phone was as heavy as a stone and her fingers were slippery with sweat, Maggie feared she was going to drop it and give herself away – but somehow, she didn’t. Her hands were trembling, but they followed the movements of the girls around the corner, zooming on the small piece of paper they were passing to one another amongst giggles. It focused on Alyssa’s frown as she huffed, on her hands as they tore the small note away from Cynthia’s stocky fingers. 

“Give it here! I don’t know where that bitch is, but she might come back any time soon. What if she isn't alone? Let’s hurry.”

The phone recorded the words faithfully. The camera zoomed on Alyssa’s fingers as they swiftly folded the piece of paper before slipping it inside Maggie’s locker. Then, it zoomed back and followed the girls as they sauntered away to the other end of the corridor, sharing conspiratorial glances and smiles. Even after they had disappeared behind the corner, the video didn’t stop.

Maggie clenched both her hands on the phone, trying to prevent them from trembling.

‘Did I really do that?’

The blood pounding in her ears was making her sick, her throat felt almost closed off, but now that she had started, she couldn’t stop. 

The locker invaded the entire screen of the phone as she walked closer, holding her breath. The hand she detached from the phone trembled as it typed in the combination. It rested against the door for a moment before finding enough strength to push it open. The camera zoomed in on a white piece of paper in front of the books. The way Maggie’s fingers shook was unmistakable, but that didn’t prevent them from unfolding the note. The camera quaked heavily at first – but after a moment, it was able to focus on the words on the paper. Then, the video was cut off.

Maggie collapsed against the locker and slid to the ground, her breath coming out in rapid pants and her ears ringing. 

An intense wave of nausea washed over her, but her legs were too weak to get up, let alone carry her to the bathroom. Maggie pressed her left hand flat against her stomach and tilted her head back, trying to force air into her begging lungs. The lights on the ceiling blurred in front of her eyes.

Am I going to faint?

But she couldn’t afford to, not over something so stupid. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on getting her breathing and heart rate under control.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

For a moment, she was afraid she would not manage to – but bit by bit, her heart rate started slowing down, and her chest could once again rise and fall. As the air filled her lungs, the ringing in her ears started receding. When, after some long moments, Maggie opened her eyes again, the neon lights flickering on the ceiling were steady.

Maggie let out a long sigh and lowered her head. Over the entire ordeal, her right hand had kept the phone clutched to her breast. She finally managed to pry it away, but she had to divert her eyes from the still visible end of the video.

This is so stupid.

Maggie clenched her fists to give herself strength and climbed back to her feet with the support of the locker. Her legs were still pathetically weak. Maggie couldn’t believe what she had just done, nor that she had almost had a panic attack over a meaningless video she would never use.

What was I even trying to do?

Maggie already knew that her unexpected spark of rebellion wouldn’t translate into action. Like every day, she re-folded the note and tucked it into an inner pocket of her bag where, along with its siblings, it waited for an opportunity to be gotten rid of where it didn’t risk being found by anybody. That video was unneeded drama.

Yet, for how much Maggie was trying to convince herself of that, there was a hint of elation trying to sprout up behind the panic and exhaustion. A thin smile blossomed on her lips. She wouldn’t use the video – but, if she were to need it, it was there. As Maggie walked away from the locker, progressively quickening her pace until she was almost running, her legs felt lighter.

The lingering anxiety completely evaporated out of the school, when her eyes landed on the group of people standing near the staircase.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Maggie said as she skipped the last two steps and came to a stand between Feliks and Tolys, slightly out of breath.

Judging from their indulgent smiles, nobody looked annoyed.

“I bet it wasn’t your fault,” Tolys remarked, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Maggie shrugged and ran a hand through her hair, offering him a sheepish smile.

“It was mutual, actually. Not only Al’s fault.”

Old Maggie might have taken the giggles and smirks that followed her words as mockeries. After months spent with the other teens, Maggie was now able to recognize the unmistakable hint of fondness they held.

“You two are just too cute,” Feliciano twittered, “You’re so in love, it’s adorable… I’m so glad you finally came out of your denial.”

“Don’t take it too fast, though,” Mikkel remarked, “No babies till you’re both of age, at least.”

Even as she blushed, Maggie couldn’t help but crack a smile along with everybody else. She was part of the joke, now, and that meant she was not offended in the slightest anymore. As she looked at the faces around her, Maggie lingered in the pleasant warmth they brought to her chest.

At first, Maggie had been hesitant to tell anybody about her and Alfred’s relationship. She had agreed not to hide it from their friends out of respect for them, but the moment Alfred had given the announcement, she hadn’t been able to breathe. In retrospect, her reaction had been beyond stupid. Not only nobody had been dismayed – they had cheered as if they hadn’t been waiting for anything else. Apparently, Alfred and Maggie had been the last ones to realize the mutual attraction. And if that had cemented even more in Maggie the impression that everybody had quite a skewed perception of her and her personality in general… at the same time, it was also quite liberating. No more secrets, just working harder to grow into the person her friends believed Maggie was.

“Did Alfred get another detention?” Kiku asked then.

“He forgot his English homework,” Tolys answered with a shake of his head.

“More like he didn’t do them,” Feliks remarked.

Mikkel frowned.

“Man, he needs to stop this,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, “he cannot afford to get detention tomorrow as well. Sunday’s match is a big one, I need him in top shape. Al is good, but he already missed training yesterday… I need him tomorrow.”

“I’ll drop by his house later, I’ll make sure he does the rest of the homework,” Maggie intervened, flashing Mikkel a slight smile.

Maggie had soon realized that Alfred wasn’t truly lazy; he worked much harder than people gave him credit for if he was convinced the matter at hand was important. The real challenge was getting him to understand the importance of school and homework, for how boring and pointless they might seem at times. 

Mikkel winked at her.

“You’re a lifesaver. I swear I could kiss you right now, if you weren’t already Al’s girlfriend.”

Maggie diverted her eyes and fidget on her feet, blushing.

“It’s nothing. I’m sure anybody else could do this as well.”

Yet, there was a shred of truth in Mikkel’s words; Alfred did tend to apply himself harder when it was Maggie pushing him to do it. Because that was also was being his girlfriend meant: helping him to overcome his flaws and develop his best parts.

“Not true,” Feliks remarked, “Al doesn’t just listen to anybody. Do you know how many times Tolys has tried? Besides, his Dad usually doesn’t let him have people over after detention – some sort of punishment, I guess. You’re the only one he makes an exception for. You have him wrapped around your finger, he adores you.”

Maggie blushed at the compliment, but she could find no words to refute it. Arthur had always been unbelievably kind to her, and the fact that she was now Alfred’s girlfriend hadn’t changed anything. Maggie had expected Arthur to show some reluctance – one thing was being a friend Alfred was charitably kind to, his girlfriend was another matter. Alfred deserved the very best, in terms of partners, and Maggie was sure that Arthur saw the issue in the same light. The fact he had welcomed the news with an amused smile instead of a dismayed frown had been a surprise to Maggie. She knew that she could deceive people around her age, but Arthur? Arthur was an adult man, and a perceptive and smart one, as well. If he gave Maggie his blessing, it meant he truly considered her worthy of his son’s affection, even though she couldn’t understand it.

United with the way Francis was just a step from planning Alfred and Maggie’s wedding, the two men made Steve’s disapproval look nothing more than a dark cloud on the horizon. Maggie had no doubt over the fact she wasn’t yet worthy of Alfred’s love – but, she could become that. She would do her best to. With everybody smiling warmly around her, Maggie believed she could do it.

******

Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders.

Focus on breathing and don’t think about anything else.

When he opened his eyes again, Tiina and Berwald’s café stood in front of him, as welcoming as ever in its bright colours. The room behind the opaque glass promised warmth and quiet – but Arthur’s own inner turmoil was too strong for him to enjoy it, yet.

He sighed and looked down at his feet. Inside the leather bag hanging from his right shoulder, his laptop was waiting for him to go on writing. It was a pity he didn’t feel in the mood for the moving family scene he had planned.

Why do I keep doing this to myself?

Arthur had hoped the walk would help him collect himself and let off steam, but it had had the opposite effect. For the entire time, his mind had kept lingering on the scenes he had just lived, Alfred’s words resounded in his ears.

How could Arthur write about happy families when his own was slipping through his fingers?

Alfred’s hard, accusatory features danced in front of his eyes.

“I’m not a child anymore!” he had spat out.

Arthur knew that his son was at least partially right. Not Arthur’s child anymore, but a teen who would soon grow into a young adult of his own right. That didn’t necessarily mean Arthur was going to lose him, but sometimes, he was afraid he would. The argument about Alfred’s last detention was trivial – what truly mattered was the rest.

“Why are you so stressed, Dad? What’s going on? What did Uncle Ali say, this time?”

Arthur couldn’t answer that question. The mere thought of his more frequent and equally unwelcome conversations with Alistair made his chest clench and his stomach twist. Alfred would not be burdened with that. But Alfred wanted to know, Alfred pushed – how was Arthur to let him understand they were matters he shouldn’t be concerned about without worrying his son?

The problem was, he had no clue.

He sighed again, feeling the exhaustion throbbing deeply into his bones.

‘Tell me what to do, Amelia. Please, tell me. You would find a way to make this better – you would know.’

But the last thing Amelia had told him, before walking out of the house on that awful morning and never coming back again, had been that she loved him – and entrusting Alfred in his cares. Arthur wished he had a tenth of the confidence his wife had had in his own abilities. No day went by without him mulling at least once on how Alfred would have been better off left with only the other parent.

“Mr Kirkland!”

The lively voice startled him out of his thoughts. His eyes fell on Michelle’s smiling, welcoming face.

“Are you coming in, Mr Kirkland?” she asked, her eyes shining.

Arthur couldn’t help but reciprocate her smile.

‘Well, at least, somebody is in a better mood.’

“No, not today. I was just having a walk, I should go back home.”

The writing afternoon was wasted, anyway.

A small frown obscured Michelle’s features for a moment.

“Oh… but, could you wait a moment? I have something I need to give you!”

Michelle only waited for Arthur’s confused nod before dashing back in, leaving him staring at the door swinging behind her shoulders. After a few moments in which Arthur examined and discarded several motivations for Michelle's behaviour, she came back, almost bouncing towards him and with her hands clutching something against her chest.

Once in front of Arthur, her smile faltered for a moment. She seemed to try to gather courage with a deep inhale.

“This is for you,” she said in a single breath, holding her hands out towards Arthur. “When I was home for the holidays I talked to my parents and then we cleared everything and I mentioned that I had talked to you and they wanted to thank you. So, here, have it.”

Arthur hesitantly took the small packet she was holding out to him, unable to hide his surprise.

“I… thank you so much, Michelle, that was very thoughtful of them, but there was no need…”

Michelle fidgeted on her feet and wrung her hands in front of her, looking about as uneasy as Arthur was feeling but determined to get through it.

“But, there was,” she said, looking straight at Arthur with wide, limpid eyes. “The mid-terms didn’t go so well but the finals a lot better, I might have not said anything to my parents, if you hadn’t convinced me that I should have. But, I talked to them and we cleared up a lot of things and now it’s all better. So, I thank you. And my parents wanted to thank you as well for looking out for me.”

Arthur didn’t know how to react. His eyes lingered for a moment on the gift in his hands before going back to Michelle’s young, earnest face. 

“I did nothing more than I should have, but… thank you, then,” he stammered awkwardly. For a person who strung words together as a profession, Arthur had quite a poor way with them in real life. He couldn’t help but contemplate the irony. “I’m glad things worked out for you,” he added as an afterthought.

The smile Michelle offered him was blinding. She clasped her hands together in front of her.

“Okay, then! This is done. I should go back inside, there were quite a lot of people. Bye, Mr Kirkland! Have a good evening!”

Michelle once again left Arthur staring at her back as she hopped away, her dark twintails bouncing behind her.

Arthur stood still for several moments, trying to process what had just happened. He ran his free fingers over the slightly grainy surface of the green and light blue paper his gift was wrapped in before tucking it inside the bag. Of all things, other parents he didn’t even know thanking him for the advice he had offered their daughter was the last one he would have ever expected.

They talked, and they cleared up their misunderstandings.

The voice in Arthur’s head sounded painfully like a patronizing Alistair. Arthur gritted his teeth and turned away from the café in long strides.

It’s not the same.

Michelle and her parents had had a misunderstanding, but they were travelling on the same wavelength. Michelle’s parents had never wished to subjugate their daughter to their selfish whims.

“Mum wishes to talk to you again,” Alistair kept saying, lately.

After what the woman had done, Arthur wanted to have nothing to do with her – and even less, he wanted her to interact with Alfred.

But, was he just being selfish in his refusal to let go of the past?

‘I’m not. I know I’m right. Some things cannot be forgiven.’

Arthur kept telling himself that, but the gift weighing in his bag told a story with a different ending.

******

“And the answer to question ten is… Al, are you listening to me?”

Alfred was shaken out of his daze by Maggie’s voice. She was staring at him, concern evident in her eyes.

Alfred sighed and looked back to the literature book.

“Sorry… no, I’m really not,” he admitted, frowning.

He was aware that he should be concentrating on his homework. He had already gotten two detentions, he shouldn’t be getting into more trouble. 

In spite of that, the words on the page blurred together into a meaningless haze. All Alfred could truly think about were the lines contorting his father’s face, his angry words. Normally, Alfred getting detention wouldn’t send him over the edge like that.

Maggie’s fingers reached across the table and touched the back of his hand.

“Are you all right?”

Alfred let his lips curl into a minute smile. Hiding his mood from Maggie was impossible. She must have also noticed Arthur’s absence when she had stepped into the house, but Alfred was sure it wasn’t what had tipped her off.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just a bit of stress. You know…” he made a vague gesture with his right hand. “There’s just a lot going on.”

Maggie nodded, her forehead creased. She nibbled on her lower lip for a moment before straightening up and closing the book in a brisk gesture.

“You’re right. Let’s go out for a walk.”

Alfred’s eyebrows rose in confusion.

“You said that we absolutely needed to study, like – half a minute ago.”

Maggie shook her head.

“Yeah, but you aren’t in the right mood, right now,” she said softly. “You aren’t concentrating at all, staying here is pointless.”

Warmth blossomed inside Alfred’s chest when he noticed the determination tightening Maggie’s features. A small smile tugged at his lips.

“Yeah, well. I guess you’re right.”

Alfred was the one who led the way as he stood up, took his coat and walked out while still putting it on, but Maggie was just a step behind him. When Alfred extended his arm, her slim gloved fingers grasped his. While Maggie’s hands weren’t strong, her grip was firm. Grounding.

For some moments, the two teens walked side by side, basking in each other’s presence and in the cold breeze that whipped their cheeks, waking them up after the daze induced by the warmth inside the house.

Alfred knew that Maggie was waiting for him to start talking. And, while he didn’t want to trouble her, he was equally aware that hiding his distress from her would have only been detrimental.

“I guess it has just been quite a stressful week,” he mused, looking down at his shoes. “There’s nothing big, really. Just… lots of small things piling up.”

Maggie’s fingers tightened their hold around his ones. A signal that Alfred could go on talking, that his ranting wouldn’t be unwelcome.

“There’s always Dad, of course. Yeah, he’s always in a bit of a bad mood after we come back from Australia, and I guess it’s understandable. But he usually gets over it in a few weeks. Instead, this time… I mean, just think about today. He was so angry that he decided to take a walk. And yeah, I know he was angry at me for getting another detention, but… this isn’t normal. He’s always irritable, but not like this. There’s… something that set him off the edge. And, Uncle Alistair has been calling him a lot more than he used to. I’m sure it has something to do with it. But, as usual, Dad’s lips are sealed.”

Maggie took a sharp intake of breath and stiffened. Alfred already knew her insight on the issue, but the fact she didn’t intervene, letting him talk freely instead, seemed to lessen a bit the weight pressing down on his chest.

“I know we have already talked about this. I know I should just let it go because it’s in his right not to talk about this, but… this could make sense before, Maggie. When it was just a bit of stress and irritation. Now, he has basically stopped eating and sleeping, this isn’t healthy! I cannot stand aside and watch him do this, there must be something I can do!”

Alfred’s chest was heaving as he stopped talking, a sour taste in his mouth at that admission of powerlessness. The only thing that prevented him from screaming or lashing out was Maggie’s hand, still wrapped around his one.

It was more than a few steps before Maggie started her answer.

“I can only imagine how hard this must be.” She dragged her words, hesitated another moment before going on. “But Al… I know that you only have the best intentions, so I’m not blaming you for this, but… if your father is so opposed to talking to you about this, you really aren't helping by pressing. Even if it’s serious.”

Alfred shook his head, irritation churning in his stomach, but the tightening of Maggie’s fingers around his ones prevented him from speaking.

“I think we should talk to Francis about this. Your Dad trusts him, for how much he can complain. He has relied on him before, hasn’t he? Maybe, Francis will be able to knock some sense into your Dad.”

Alfred halted to a stop as Maggie’s words sank in. He pressed himself closer to her and rubbed her arm, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, this is actually a sound solution. Thank you for making sense. I should have thought about it myself…”

‘But I didn’t because I was being selfish and thinking more about what I wanted to do myself than what Dad actually needed.’

Maggie wasn’t blaming Alfred for his shortcoming, however. She looked at him with wide eyes and apprehension written in the slight lines creasing her forehead. Not angry, just concerned for his well-being. And that quelled down most of the concerns that had been stirring in his stomach.

“Is… is it better, now?” Maggie asked shyly, almost asking permission for her words.

Alfred smiled at her.

“Yeah, mostly,” he confirmed, as much to himself as to his girlfriend. “I guess I just needed to get this out of my system. You know, sometimes I just overthink stuff and I need somebody to ground me.”

Alfred bent down and pressed a quick kiss to Maggie’s lips, relishing in the way she melted against him. She was his, she relied on him. And, at the same time, she was always there to support him. Alfred was so lucky.

He wished the hug would last forever, but they were still out in the open. Standing still slowly made Alfred aware of the way the cold was trying to seep under the layers of clothes. When he was about to start shivering, he nudged Maggie to walk forward, keeping his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Around them, the streets were quiet and basked in the orange light that came from the sunset, the sky a canvas of vibrant orange and pink. Gorgeous and calm, especially with Maggie at his side.

“And… what about the rest? Is there anything else troubling you?”

Alfred was startled by Maggie’s words. He shouldn’t have been, he should have known Maggie wasn’t going to forget anything.

“It’s nothing big, don’t worry,” he admitted in a light voice and with a shrug. “Just… really minor stuff I’m overthinking like a drama queen. But it’s going to be all right, so I shouldn’t be worrying at all.”

Maggie hemmed, clearly not convinced.

“Everything’s important, as long as it affects you, even if it’s small. You should talk about it, it could help you feel better. I mean…” she took a shuddering inhale, her voice picked up speed. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it with me, of course, I’ll be always here to listen and I’ll be glad to but it’s not like you have to—”

Alfred squeezed her shoulder, interrupting her mid-speech before she could faint from the lack of air.

She’s worrying about me. I’m worrying her, and this won’t stop unless I tell her what’s going on.

With Maggie, brushing away his concerns and focusing on the positive without addressing them didn’t help. If Alfred was honest with himself, it might have been exactly what he needed.

“No. You’re right. And it isn’t that I don’t want to tell you, for the record. I just…” he took a deep breath to gather strength. “I guess I don’t like talking about it because it makes me feel so silly, you know. I’m not supposed to get worked up over this, but I am. You know, Sunday’s match… those guys are supposed to be very strong. Last year, they were disqualified from the championship because of some irregularities so I’ve never faced them, but apparently, they wiped the team to dust the year before…”

It might have been an exaggeration, but the cold fury in Mikkel's eyes as he had recounted the event had been genuine, almost scary. It had settled inside Alfred’s stomach like a pile of rocks.

“And the thing is, one of the issues was that our team didn’t have a good quarterback, back then. Now, they have me. And I am good. So, they’re expecting us to win – but it’s almost like they are all trusting this on me.”

Football was a team effort, not an individual game. Yet, it was Alfred his teammates kept glancing at after the mandatory speeches on how they were going to do their best and win the game. Alfred they trusted not to mess up. And Alfred who would take the downfall of a failure, too.

“And I mean, I know I can do it. Hell, I’ve been training a lot, I’m pretty sure I’m up to it. But… I don’t know… If I were to fail, I just... It isn’t going to happen, but… I feel like I would let everybody down.”

He had never admitted that to anybody. Yet, once he had done so, his chest suddenly felt lighter. Even more when Maggie nuzzled his shoulder in comfort.

“Al, this wouldn’t be an issue,” she stated firmly. “Leaving aside whether your team is going to win or not—”

“We are going to win.”

“I don’t doubt it. But… I don’t think it’s the real issue here.”

Maggie tilted her head to look at Alfred. In contrast with her gentle voice, determination shone in her eyes.

“I’m sorry your teammates let you feel like that. Because it isn’t fair. The victory isn’t up to you, everybody’s going to play a hand in it. Maybe, they’re just pushing you hard because they know how high your potential is. But, this doesn’t mean they think it’s all up to you or that you would be to blame if you lose. When we have a match, Ivan’s always stressing that the outcome is the responsibility of the entire team. And… I don’t know your teammates much, but… I do know Mikkel. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mean to put so much weight on your shoulders. He just wants you to do your best, but he’s not going to blame you if your best isn’t enough. You have to believe me on this.”

Even after she had finished talking, Maggie kept looking at Alfred, as if to make sure her words would sink in. 

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Well, I told you it was just a silly thing, didn’t I? You’re right. And Mikkel’s certainly more reasonable than Braginsky, of all people…”

At the same time, hearing those words from Maggie made them more real, loosening a bit the apprehension that had been encasing his chest for days.

“Is it a bit better?” Maggie asked.

Alfred hummed in assent. He could have left it there. But, once again, Maggie has just proven to him just how well self-denial worked – that was, how it did not work.

“Yeah. Well, a bit. I mean… I now recognize my concerns were kind of silly, but I’m still a bit worried for the match. But, I guess I won’t stop worrying completely until it’s over, so…”

“It’s okay to be worried and stressed over this,” Maggie answered softly, “it’s normal to be worried before big things. Just… don’t let this get to you too much. And if you’re feeling really down, you should tell someone. You can always call me, you know—”

Maggie stopped abruptly, almost missing a step. Alfred tightened his hold around her shoulders out of reflex.

“Woah there, you all right?”

Peering at her face, he was relieved to see that her lips were red, she wasn’t about to faint – but all her features seemed to have stiffened, her eyes had lost their light.

Maggie gave a violent shake of her head.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” she muttered, looking down at her feet. “But… I just realized that I wouldn’t actually be able to answer any time you called. It should be fine if I’m in my room, but if Steve is around, it would make him suspicious, he doesn’t like…” her weak voice trailed off.

Alfred offered a gentle squeeze to her shoulder.

“So, you still haven’t told him…?”

It was mostly a rhetorical question, Maggie had already stressed multiple times how her stepfather wouldn’t allow her to have a boyfriend. Yet, Alfred’s chest tightened at the dejected shake of her head.

‘Would it really be so bad, if Maggie’s stepdad knew?’

Perhaps, Maggie was just being too hesitant for her own good, like she often was. However, telling her stepfather or not should be her choice, not Alfred’s. He had no right to push her boundaries.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Maggie muttered, “you deserve better. I’ll understand if you get angry at me, but I just don’t know how else to do…”

In spite of the soft timbre, the desperation rang clear in Maggie’s voice. Alfred’s chest tightened in turn. He stepped in front of her and gently cupped her chin to lift her head until they were facing each other. To his horror, Maggie’s eyes looked bright, almost as if she were about to cry.

Alfred took a deep breath and schooled his features in a determined expression.

“Don’t talk like this. I cannot possibly deserve anything better, because you’re the best person who could possibly be my girlfriend. I don’t think you realize how much you have and you are helping me out. But, you’re my girlfriend, not my conjoined twin. You’re your own person with your own life, asking you to be at my disposal all the time would be horribly selfish of me. You shouldn’t want to do something like that, okay? I know how hard it is for you to tell your stepdad. Okay, I may not really understand this because my relationship with Dad is different – but, I trust your judgement and I respect it. I’ll wait until you’re ready. There’s nothing wrong with that. And, in the meantime, you’ll answer my calls or messages when you feel ready to, no sooner. Okay?”

Alfred hated the sight of the tears welling in Maggie’s eyes. The way she shook her head and looked down, trying to hide a sniff, made his stomach churn.

“I… Thank you,” she muttered in such a weak whisper that Alfred’s blood roared.

‘Who hurt you like this?’

If Maggie’s stepfather had been in front of his eyes at that moment, Alfred didn’t think he could have restrained himself from hitting him. The muscles of his arm tightened in anticipation at the mere thought.

However, it wasn’t what Maggie needed.

Alfred forced himself to relax and enveloped her in a hug.

“No,” he whispered into her hair, inhaling the flowery scent, “thank you. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for being so patient and for pushing me when I need to. Thank you for being here.”

Maggie didn’t answer. She buried her head against Alfred’s collarbone and clenched her fists over the fabric of his coat. She was trembling. Alfred said nothing, but he tightened his hold.

Some time passed before Maggie started shifting to free herself. Alfred let her, but he kept his hands loosely around her arms.

“Better?”

Maggie looked up at him, a weak smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Yes. I’m sorry… I was supposed to be the one comforting you.”

Alfred realized with a pang of surprise that he had almost forgotten where the conversation had started.

“Hey, that’s fine! You did. And then I did it for you. I think that’s exactly how it’s supposed to work, in a relationship!”

Oddly enough, Alfred’s concerns seemed a distant shadow, after he had listened to Maggie’s ones. They faded even more when her smile widened to finally reach her eyes.

Without need for other words, they resumed their walk, with Maggie’s hand hooked at Alfred’s elbow. This time, the atmosphere between them was relaxed.

Alfred started chatting about the dinner, completely at ease, only to be startled by Maggie’s sudden gasp. Before he had the time to understand what was going on, she released his arm as if she had been scalded and almost jumped away from him. Her eyes were wide with horror.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Alfred took a step towards Maggie, but she evaded him, her eyes focused on something in front of her.

“Not now,” she muttered.

Alfred turned to follow her gaze, trying to understand what had spooked her. After a moment, his eyes were caught by a tall, slim girl in thigh-high boots and a pink fur coat that swaggered along the sidewalk across them, her light brown loose curls dancing behind her shoulders.

Alyssa?

The pair of huge sunglasses that hid the girl’s features made her identity hard to tell and the puffy coat didn’t help, but Alyssa was a likely option. The tanned skin and hair colour matched her as well. That would have been a reasonable explanation for Maggie’s reaction – Alfred had never told her about his arguments with Alyssa, but Maggie was too perceptive not to have realized that there was something amiss.

The girl, however, strutted past Alfred and Maggie without acknowledging them. Alfred squinted to try to have a better look. Maybe, it wasn’t Alyssa at all… she looked similar enough, yet, there was something slightly different in the shape of her jaw and her body proportions…

“Oh! That isn’t Alyssa, don’t worry!” Alfred stated as soon as his brain connected the dots. “Must be her older sister, they really look alike.”

Maggie relaxed slightly, but her forehead was still creased.

“Older sister?”

“Uh, yeah. I think so. Briony. No, not Briony, but it was something starting with a ‘b’… Britney, maybe? Not quite… Ah, Brittany! Yes, this sounds right. Brittany. Anyway, I don’t really know her, she’s much older… In her mid-to-late twenties; twenty-seven, I think. Or twenty-eight... maybe even twenty-nine. Younger than thirty, though. Anyway, she has already finished college. I thought she moved to Los Angeles? She must have come back to visit her family, I guess.”

Maggie nodded slowly. Her eyes were still following Brittany’s back.

“Oh… Do you—no, would she know who you are?”

Alfred shrugged.

“Don’t think so. Why would she? Actually, I think this is the first time I see her in person. I just knew she existed because she’s… kind of famous? I’m pretty sure she is, at least. I think she modelled for a bit, and she’s a fashion blogger. Or a web influencer. Or maybe both. Are they even a different thing? Honestly, I don't know and I couldn’t care less. I just know about her because people in our school talk about her, at times. And she has tons of followers on Instagram. I guess it’s also part of why Alyssa’s so popular – aside from her parents being filthy rich, I mean. Some girls wanted to be friends with her so they could get to know her sister and all that stuff, you know. I also think Alyssa tried to join Brittany's modelling gig for a while, but she never did anything big. She’s probably still too young. And her sister’s prettier, anyway. She’s like… just as skinny and a bit taller, but if the pictures I saw weren't edited, in a more harmonious way. Same for her face. Brittany’s more model-material than Alyssa is.”

That was about everything Alfred knew about Brittany, and he had never felt the urge to discover anything more. He didn’t care about models or vapid influencers on Instagram, no matter how many followers they had. At first, Alfred had even felt a bit sorry for Alyssa for how everybody else was using her, but the feeling had vanished as soon as he had gotten to know her better. Regardless of her sister, Alyssa was mean and spoiled to the core. Until she fixed her attitude, she couldn’t expect people to like her for who she was.

The tension finally left Maggie’s features. She nodded as she turned towards Alfred.

“Sorry for the freak-out,” she apologized, running her fingers through her hair. “I just��� uhm, maybe it’s silly, but you know, Alyssa is a huge gossip and if she had seen us together… I mean, the entire school would know by tomorrow.”

“No problem,” Alfred answered automatically and offered his hand to Maggie to resume walking.

The previous intimacy seemed broken, however. Maggie’s fingers were stiff and she wasn’t leaning into Alfred anymore. That slight distance between them seemed to hold a sea.

Alfred’s forehead creased into a frown.

‘Why would the entire school knowing be so bad?’

Just like with her stepfather, Maggie had begged Alfred to keep their relationship secret at school. Alfred had thought it made sense, considering how shy Maggie was. That was something intimate between the two of them. Even so… The way Maggie had pushed him away a few moments earlier had been impressed in Alfred’s brain. The gesture hadn’t been violent, but the more he thought about it, the more Alfred felt like he had been slapped.

Maggie’s fingers tightened into his ones, bringing Alfred back to reality.

“Al?” she asked hesitantly.

Alfred’s first impulse would have been to smile and dismiss everything. He had already promised that he would respect Maggie’s boundaries, and he didn’t want to make her worry.

But, do I really want to start building this relationship on lies?

The thought struck him like a lightning, making the smile vanish from his face. Maggie had always listened, urged him to talk. Alfred was the one who needed to take the first step.

He stopped and turned to face Maggie, taking a deep breath.

“Maggie, are you… ashamed of dating me?”

Her eyes widened in incredulity.

“W—what?! No! How could I ever… why would you think that?!”

The truth was blatant in the upset voice. At her earnestness, Alfred felt guilty for having ever formulated the thought. He wished he could take his words back, but not getting an answer would surely upset Maggie.

“Well…” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I realize this is stupid, but… you’re so smart, Maggie. You’re among the people with the highest GPA in our grade and you never get in trouble. Teachers adore you. Instead, I… I have just average grades in most subjects. And I also get in trouble a lot because I’m kind of a smartass, so… for a moment, I thought that maybe you didn’t want to be associated too much with me at school. Being friends is different because you might have been helping me… But dating is a much deeper commitment. Maybe, that was why you didn’t want anybody to know.”

Alfred had been so, so wrong. The regret that shone in Maggie’s eyes was a stab to his stomach.

“But it was really stupid!” he went on, trying to put a remedy to his awful mistake. “That’s… I should have trusted you, I—”

“No, it isn't your fault.”

Maggie interrupting Alfred was a rarity, almost unheard of. He fell silent as her features tightened in determination. She took a deep breath and clenched her hands into fists before going on.

“Al, I’m not ashamed. I would never be.” Her voice was trembling slightly. “The reason I didn’t want anybody to know is just that I don’t like being at the centre of attention. I mean, you’re really popular. If people knew I was dating you, I would suddenly be noticed and talked about. And that…” Maggie’s voice was barely above a whisper, at that point. She lowered her head and started wringing her hands. “I just… I’m not used to being at the centre of attention. I’ve never been, and the times I have, it… was never for something positive. I don’t like it. Knowing that people talk about me and I can’t know what they say or what they think just… makes me really anxious. Like everything I do and every word I say will be scrutinized and every misstep used against me. That’s why I didn’t want people outside our circle of friends to know.”

Cold spread inside Alfred.

“Maggie…” he whispered, laying a hand on her shoulder with all the gentleness he was capable of.

She raised her head again, attempting a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m… I cannot even say how sorry I am. I thought you didn’t mind not telling everybody, I never stopped to consider how you would feel and if it would hurt you and—”

Alfred silenced her with a finger on her lips.

“No,” he stated with determination. “I said I was okay with keeping it a secret. It’s my fault for never discussing this and not trying to consider why it was so important for you. But, I get it now.”

Hope tinged Maggie’s tentative smile.

“Do you truly?”

Alfred nodded.

“I still wish I could tell people – because, you know, you’re my girlfriend and I’m so in love with you, and I wish I didn’t have to restrain myself if I want to hug you or kiss you – but I get it. It’s a small price to pay, compared to everything else I’m getting.”

Maggie placed her own hand over the one Alfred still held on her shoulder and clasped it.

“Thank you. And… I actually wouldn’t want to hide it all the time, too. You’re right. It’s silly, considering that we are together. I just… need some time to adjust to the idea of being at the centre of the attention.”

Alfred gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“That’s fine. It means we should just communicate more clearly, next time.”

Maggie nodded. Her smile, so bright and full of acceptance, filled Alfred’s chest with warmth. And the lilac of her eyes was so beautiful, when it wasn’t dulled down by concern… Alfred thought he could have stared into it forever, he was barely aware of the way he slowly bent closer to her.

The sudden ringing of bells in the distance broke the moment. Alfred and Maggie startled simultaneously, looking up and almost knocking against each other in the process. They stared at each other for a short instant before bursting into giggles, automatically grasping each other’s arms.

“Okay,” Alfred said as soon as he could catch his breath again, “if we needed a sign, that was it. This walk was a wonderful bonding moment, buut… as sad as it may be, I still have homework waiting for me at home, and I’d better have them finished before dinner. Come on, let’s go back.”

He offered his hand to Maggie. She took it without hesitation, the blossoming smile giving light to her features making them more and more beautiful with each passing moment. The gloved hands were their only visible connection, but as they walked back, Alfred couldn’t help but feel that the bond ran much deeper than that. Too strong to be enclosed in a physical touch.

******

Feliks <Maggie!!! <where r u?  <the match’s almost over!  <hurry!

Maggie stared at the words on the screen, annoyance growing with each passing second. The match was so important to Alfred, she should have been at his side to support him… Instead, she was still stuck at home, with Feliks’s occasional messages as her only indication of what was going on, and the heavy steps and imprecations downstairs keeping her prisoner in her own house.

When she took a couple of hesitant steps out of the room, a crash downstairs made her bolt back to her refuge, with her heart racing. Her trembling fingers went back to the phone.

>Steve’s still home, I don’t know what’s keeping him :( >He should be out any minute, now >I’ll come as soon as he goes away!

Steve should have been out of the house hours earlier. If only Claudia hadn’t decided to cancel their date at the last minute. By the intense smell of alcohol seeping from the kitchen, Maggie had been informed that Steve hadn’t taken it well. Going against any common sense, she had still tried to get out to attend Alfred’s match – she might have even made it, hadn’t Steve come across her in the corridor. Her right side was still throbbing viciously from being pushed into the living room and against the coffee table. She was lucky enough that nothing was broken, but her stepfather’s yells had chased her back to her bedroom. It was as good as any refusal to grant her the permission to go out.

Under normal circumstances, Maggie would have called it a day. Steve wasn’t going to change his mind, she only risked angering him further if she didn’t comply.

But.

That wasn’t a normal day. That day, she had to go out to attend Alfred’s football match. And not any football match – the one Alfred had been worrying about for weeks. She needed to be there for him, no matter what. Knowing what was going on thanks to Feliks wasn’t enough.

Maggie took a deep breath and clenched her fists, trying to gather enough courage to step out of the room. In spite of the fear making her heart pound and her head spin, her steps managed to be light. She crouched by the railing and peered down. 

Steve was still pacing in the corridor, with a dark bottle in his right hand and his left fist punching the air wildly. His cheeks were red from the alcohol.

Maggie bit her lower lip to restrain a whimper. The minutes were ticking by, and her exit was blocked. There was no denying it. She couldn’t even try to run past Steve, he would catch her. But she needed to get out, and there was no other way…

The window.

Maggie froze as the thought hit her. Alfred jumping out of her bedroom’s window once had proved her it was possible, and she was reasonably sure she could reproduce the stunt.

She jerked up and padded back to her bedroom, gritting her teeth when a wave of irritation washed over her. She couldn’t believe she had wasted so much time waiting for Steve to leave when the solution was so maddeningly simple.

It just never occurred to you because you would have never thought about sneaking out of the house with Steve still in, a couple of months ago.

It was true. Maggie wasn’t going to delude herself with the hope that Steve wasn’t going to notice her absence. She was going to be punished, and severely, too. However, it didn’t matter. Alfred needed her. That was a much bigger priority than avoiding a right punishment like a coward.

Before she could second-guess herself, Maggie thrust the window open and took a deep breath. The cold air tasted like freedom. 

Like she had seen Alfred do, she jumped out and tried to land in a roll. The impact jarred her shoulder, stunning her for a moment – but it wasn’t too bad, and she didn’t have much time. Maggie forced herself not to look back at the living room and ran, letting the wooden gate swing freely behind her.

It wasn’t long before her legs started throbbing and her lungs burning, but she kept running. There was no time to acknowledge the strain or the knife to her side, Maggie had a goal, and she was going to achieve it.

By the time she reached the field, she was dizzy and nauseous with fatigue. But, above the ringing in her own ears, she could hear the cheering of the crowd. The match was over.

Maggie slowed down to a jog and forced her shaky legs to carry her inside. Everybody was standing and yelling, climbing down the bleachers to reach the football players, who were converging towards the changing room. The red and white of Da Vinci High dominated the space.

Maggie’s heart missed a beat.

They won.

Maggie didn’t have the time to find her friends. Taking advantage of her slight body, she squeezed past other students until she was right in front of the field.

All the boys were red-faced and panting, their skin glistening with sweat, but the smiles on their faces were ecstatic. And Alfred was among them, his eyes brighter than the sky and his face radiant. 

Their gazes met.

“We won!” Alfred yelled breathlessly, freeing himself from his teammates to walk towards Maggie. “Look, we won!”

Other people were now on the field, congratulating with the players. Two boys Maggie knew only in passing were making out with their girlfriends – one a cheerleader, judging from the uniform, the other, dressed in casual clothes.

Alfred stopped in front of Maggie, breathing heavily. He extended his arms towards her, then froze. Maggie read the hesitation in his eyes.

She hadn’t forgotten the self-doubt she had caused him, with her selfishness.

If Alyssa finds out we’re dating, I’m going to be in trouble. But does it matter more than Alfred’s confidence?

Maggie knew the answer.

Forcing any indecision back with a deep breath, she threw her arms around Alfred’s neck and kissed him. For a moment, he froze in surprise – then, he melted and reciprocated the kiss with enthusiasm. His arms went around Maggie’s waist and he lifted her, squeezing tightly.

Maggie was aware that everybody could see them. Oddly, once she had a glimpse of the joy in Alfred’s eyes, it didn’t seem to matter so much anymore.

(word count: 10,018)

———

Notes:

Hetalia human names [x]

I’m not a native English speaker, so, if you have noticed any mistake, pointing it out would be really useful!

Thank you so much for your patience and support, everybody. I could never thank you enough for how wonderful you have been. 💖 In particular, I want to thank all the people who liked the previous chapter, and @awkwardlittleintrovert and @shrekybabe for reblogging it!

[the-canary]

Take the Lead - B.B (5/5)

Summary: You never understood the meaning of Christmas, but maybe this December project was going to change all that .(Reader/Bucky Barnes + Avengers!Friendship)

Prompt: Comfort

A/N: this is for @buckysbeardliness ‘s winter challenge. this is the end, thank you for reading <3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Masterlist

Feedback is always welcomed.

“There’s something different about you,” your family members murmur when you see them on the 23rd. You pretend to work too much on the actual festive days in order to not see them, as cruel as it was you had grown tired of sad faces and negative energy during this time of the year -- if only just recently, if only just because of one person.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said with through gritted teeth, because you are lying, but they seem to buy it as they give you tepid smiles back and continue to commiserate.

Oh, you knew something had changed -- you were just too afraid to face it.

 “Tony, what did you do?”

“I-I might’ve known a certain Tin Man was coming home early...and decided play matchmaker.”

“I don’t want her spending Christmas alone just because of this. It was already so difficult to get her to the Christmas party last year.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Everyone’s getting a Christmas miracle.”

 December 25th was a day that you had decided was just going to be for yourself this year. You wouldn’t be going to your sibling’ home --you would have already spent Christmas Eve with them-- or spend time with your parents, hell you weren’t even going to get all dressed up like last year and head to the Avengers Tower for a party that Ms. Potts really wanted you to attend. No, you were going to order takeout and watch all of the Home Alone series, maybe even tackle that giant puzzle that you still had laying about about in the kitchen area.

That was what you pictured what Christmas going to be like at the start of the month. You hadn’t been expecting to try to decorate a Christmas tree, to making desserts, to buying presents and wrapping them while watching old movies -- you didn't expect any of this, but you certainly hadn’t been expecting to spend so much time with one Bucky Barnes and him teaching you so much about the holiday spirit.

You hadn’t expected to fall so head over heels for him either, to the point that you were in a Mrs. Claus’ outfit on Christmas Day in the middle of a hospital ward, but love made you do stupid things right?

“Bucky hasn’t come out of his room since you left,” Sam had explained to you Christmas Eve as you tethered with anxiety, “And those kids are gonna be waiting for him bright and early.”

“I don’t understand what you want me to do about it though,” you state in confusion.

Sam’s bright idea had been to dress you up as Mrs. Claus and with some other volunteers stall for time until either Bucky or someone else came in dressed as Saint Nick. Twenty minutes in you weren’t sure if either solution was gonna walk through that door, as you were growing frantic as you ran out of things to do and the children as sweet as they were starting to grow impatient over not seeing Santa Claus.

“Shouldn’t you know where your husband is?” one of the older children asks, as you give him a nervous smile. Since you had run away from the kiss, you actually had no idea where Bucky was since you hadn’t gone back to the Tower, declaring your work complete and taking a few extra days before Christmas really set in.

However, it didn’t really help that you thought about him everyday since then.

“I’m---” you begin to speak, only for the double doors to open with some nurses bringing in the man of the hour.

That’s when it happens -- the familiar voice this time declaring hohoho as the children cheer his entrance. The volunteers dressed as elves come a bit closer to help the man dressed in the classic red outfit and the beard --that didn’t really make him look his age. However, his blue eyes were shining as all the kids welcomed him. You couldn’t help but smile at the utter happiness on Bucky’s face as his eyes crinkle with laughter. He’s starts going back to his full height, ready to declare something when he finally sees you and for some reason, he just seems to lose the ability to talk.   

“I-I--” Santa Bucky seems to freeze, probably due to all the children crowding around him,  before you cough a little and decide to step in.

“Come on kids,” you say in a motherly tone and begin to motion them to get into a line, “Santa has gifts for everyone if you just be a little patient with him.”

Santa Bucky moves around to the little area set up for him and though he stares at you for a moment, you only give him a small smile before helping with the kids the best you can. Some of the kids groan, but understand well enough that they will have their time with Santa soon and others huff and puff until you give them some candy and a wink that they’ll get just what they want if they behave. However, most -if not all of them are excited to Santa Claus and at the sight of Bucky smiling and laughing without a care in the world -- well, you were happy to be here as well.

 It isn’t until much later, when you are both dressed and walking back towards the Tower in awkward silence that Bucky finally decides to move forward with what he had been lamenting over the past couple of days since he had last seen you. Blue eyes glance over at you, bundled up and kicking the snow slightly, as he begins to speak.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this,” Bucky states, wondering if it was Steve or Sam who sent you there. It wasn’t like he was going to let those kids down, he was just running late due to his own misery,  “I know it’s not your sort of thing.”

“I never said it wasn’t, Bucky,” you admit with a laugh, as he keeps staring at you, “It just takes some time getting used to, but I had fun. I’m glad I could help.”

“That’s--that’s good,” Bucky mumbles, as you keep moving forward with your speech --stopping in the middle of the street-- as if you’re trying to kill him of the embarrassment.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you state softly while stopping in your walking, while looking at him like he’s the greatest thing in the world and in a way he had given it to you -- this sense of wonder towards this time of year, “I really mean it. I’ve learned a lot from you these past couple of days.”

Bucky swears he loses his breathe at the sight of you smiling so brightly at him, but it’s also in that moment when he sees it -- green and red hanging above the two of you. He groans for a moment, swearing to either kill or thank whoever is putting him through all this suffering much later. However, for now, he wants to move forward with something else.

“You know,” he starts off, also stopping a few feet in front of you, “Everyone liked the gifts you gave them. Steve was just at awe with the painting supplies, Sam wouldn’t stop singing to his new records -- everyone’s in love with them, doll.”

“They aren’t really mine, though,” you try to explain as Bucky simply laughs while getting a bit closer to you than before.

“Trust me, even with Stark’s name on it,” Bucky states, remembering all the looks on their faces when the Avengers had opened the gifts he had helped you pick out, “They know they’re from you, from the bottom of your heart and that’s what matters.”

“And you?” you move forward shyly, unsure of where this could be going, but you know that there is a change in the air between the two of you, as blue eyes are on you completely.

“What about me?”

“Did you get what you want?” you state, leaning in a bit more -- the sights and sounds of the city long forgotten as all your attention is simply on Bucky Barnes.

“I’ve…” he pauses for a moment before diving straight in, “I’ve been pinning for this gal since last year, you see. Since I saw ‘er in a party wearing a pretty silver dress, but I’ve been too much of a coward to talk to her.”

“Bucky--” you gasp, remembering that party from last year.

“Let me finish, please,” he answers back, running a hand through his hair due to nervousness before moving forward with his feelings, “And then I got to spend time with her, seeing that she’s breathing taking both inside and out. And all I’ve wanted to do for a long while now is--”

That’s when he points to the area above the two of you and that’s when you see the culprit of all your troubles once more -- mistletoe. Your eyes widen, as you go back to looking at Bucky, wondering if this was finally going to lead to something.

“ Kiss her, if she lets me,” he states softly, placing his gloved hand on your cheek. Blue eyes stare at you lips for a moment before meeting your eyes.

You nod eagerly as Bucky lets out a shaky laugh before he leans in pausing only for a moment to let your breath mingles together. His lips are soft and you swear he tastes like peppermint or some type of holiday candy that the kids made him eat back in the hospital. And it seems like the man isn’t going to let you go anytime soon, as he wraps his other arm around your waist and while this would usually morifty you -- it felt like the end to the Christmas movie you had been going through since you had decided to buy Christmas tree with Bucky.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky,” you murmur softly against his lips once you finally break apart. The doom and gloom you usually feel during this time of year bursting into something sweet, as you can’t keep the huge grin blooming onto your face.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” the man answers back with red cheeks and a soft smile. Foreheads touching for a moment before he leans in once more.

A comfort that neither of you once had was your Christmas miracle this time around. 

[thebotchgirl]

1

I hop out the car and into another. The man behind the wheel a stranger yet familiar somehow. I know him of course, he's an old John from way back when. Although every time I see him he's wearing a new look. Salt and pepper beard and rounded belly confuses recognition.

To the airport already what the hell are we waiting for. I've officially started my vacation and all I want is to get out of dodge. Do people still say that? Probably not. Oh well who cares.

We take a desolate highway down through Palmdale onto the 405 into Monday night LA traffic. Good thing I arranged a ride hours upon hours before my departure.

We exit the freeway and find ourselves right next to the iconic Randy's Donuts. Now I've been living in Southern California for eleven long years and have never been. Now is the time and we take it!

Oh my god mouth watering good, overly sugary sweet. Green Matcha Tea and glazed. An orgasmic explosion of the senses hit my tongue on impact. And before you say it, NO I didn't get a cream filled hole. Dirty minds? Only the best kind.

An hour after inching up the road to the Bradley International terminal I'm grabbing my bag and onto my Asian adventure!

As always LA never disappoints, it's just how I expected. Long, very long lines, and busy busy busy. This isn't my first international flight, and not my first traveling alone. In fact I almost always travel solo and I try to go abroad at least once a year. This difference this time is there appears to be very little English signs, and everything seems more confusing than usual. It's been awhile since I've traveled, last year was a rough year and I never made it out of the country. Still I remember getting around quite easily before. Maybe I'm just getting old, we know how old people get confused by the simplest things. That was me making a funny, not being mean to old people by the way.

The first thing I try is the self check in kiosk. After pressing buttons aimlessly like a bonobo with a tablet in a lab I give it up. Trying to locate the airline I need looks like a task I'm in no mood for taking on. I take the easy way out and ask an airport worker where to find China Eastern. She points in the general direction of where I was going to go but hey accent is so thick I have trouble making out what she's saying. I smile and nod with a thank you and luckily for me where I needed to be was only a few feet away.

However when I reach the line, it's one heck of a long one. Fortunately for moi my trip will only be for a few days so I packed light. Not checking a bag means straight to the front of the line. Ha ha see ya Bitches I throw up the deuces as I'm escorted to the front like I'm V.I.P. Not really, but I was in my head.

I think I made it through the worst of it only to be halted at TSA. Can't complain too much there's an adorable black dog with his trainer sniffing around all the travelers. Although it's only been five hours since I left work in already craving the soothing sensation of animal fur running along my fingers. I may have gone for it had there not been multiple "Do not pet" signs all around the line and even written in bold letters on the doggy's vest. Damn my ability to read!

Getting through security was painless enough. If one can stand the incredulous rudeness of TSA shouting at them, anything can be withstood.

Good thing I had the donuts, the bread has filled me up and I no longer have that hunger pang in my belly. There are no restaurants, no food, just overpriced snacks and Starbucks that I can see. After sitting for a time I get a hankering for coconut. I tried the coconut snacks from Starbucks a few weeks back and have been eating them ever since. Unfortunately they are nowhere to be found here. I grab a kombucha and decide to go for a walk.

Everywhere I look are big, very big moving pictures. Adverts for jewelry, perfumes, luxury luggage, and beautiful colorful photography. It makes me wonder how artists get their work advertised in really large venues such as airports. I think of my mother and her art. In case your curious you can see her stuff at jarulashalt.

I don't get far on my walk before I get tired. After all I'm on a one am flight out and have been up since five am to work a full day.

The Chinese are much better at boarding than any others I have experienced. Their routine is efficient and just works out better. I get on in no time and we're pulling away from the gate at exactly the scheduled take off time.

So far so good, although if I had any negative feedback it would be the lack of safety demonstration prior to takeoff. I've grown accustomed to a little show from the flight attendants, but not this time around.

We get off the ground and are sailing high when the lights go off and I'm ready to shut my peepers for the night. Only to be rudely awakened by harsh lights an hour into the flight for food. Don't judge me but when presented with the three options I take the chicken. Before you say anything I'm not the stereotype, on the contrary I can't stand chicken. I just chose it because I wasn't willing to gamble on the shrimp on a plane and I have no idea what the other option was. I don't know if I was just starving or if it was actually pretty good for airplane food but I gobbled it down like I was getting paid extra in a strip club champagne room.

Finally with a full belly and smooth flight I can sleep! Well, sort of. I've been waking every few hours, mainly due to the ache in my butt cheeks. This last time I awake from my pussy nap I find myself hungry again. Not only am I hungry but I'm starving! I keep thinking I smell food, but either it's coming from first class wafting back to taunt us poor folk in coach. Or it's someone's farts from the meal we had ten hours ago. I know I know how could one mix that up right? Look I'm on a fourteen hour flight with little hours of sleep behind me and I'm hungry as hell. At some point farts and food tend to blend. Don't believe me? Then you haven't seen my FartDom video when my co star getting a little more than air in his mouth, yet doesn't seem to mind. Or was that edited out, hmmm.

 

Well up until this point that is all I have to report. Please stick around to find out what happens next on Nina's first Asian Adventure.

[steamishot]

18 Month Relationship: Break Up or JK

As my last post entailed, I’ve been feeling rather anxious these days. Still waiting on the UCLA job and not sure how the next few weeks are going to play out in my professional life. Thinking about the prospect of a “better” job had me thinking about other aspects of my life too, namely my relationship. Now that I’m aiming for a better job, should I be aiming for a better boyfriend too?

You see, the past few months I’ve started to lose interest in David. It was a very gradual thing and I can see how boredom with my own life transferred onto my feelings of unhappiness with him. I felt as if he wasn’t trying as hard as he could have been, that he kept making excuses as to why he couldn’t do this or that. I was also sick of his negative attitude. These things were probably present before, but because I had way more free time and energy than him (I cut my work hours to 30 weeks and am home by 3:30pm, whereas he’s out of the house 13 hours on a given workday 6:45am~7:45pm) we weren’t on the same wavelength of being stimulated on a given day- and I was expecting him to provide me the stimulation that I no longer was getting from work. I would get off work at 2:30, look for fun recipe to cook for us, swing by the grocery market, go home, kill a few hours, and then start cooking an hour before he was to arrive home. After cooking, I would just wait for him to walk through the door. We’d eat together while watching TV. Shower. Unwind. And sleep. 

Before I cut back my work hours, I was averaging about 45 hours a week (?) with two jobs. I thought that having more time to myself meant that i could do the things I wanted - cook, draw, work out. Guess what, I did those things for a few weeks and then it just died out and I became lazy again. Cooking lasted the longest, but the way I was cooking before was pretty unsustainable. It was a time of exploration. I wanted to try all these fancy recipes. I ended up spending a lot of money and wasting groceries because I had no experience or sense of practicality when I was seeking out these recipes. I’d buy ingredients (in a portion way larger than required, because supermarkets) I needed for a recipe, use them once, and would probably never touch em again. Also, these types of recipes had a long prep time and also a long cleaning up time. Both of which aren’t favorable during a weeknight. Lately, I’ve been trying to cook smarter. Anyway, the point is that boredom in my life was what I created for myself. With boredom, comes unhappiness. And I’m realizing now that I tend to point the finger to my relationship as the culprit of my feelings, when really, I should take responsibility for my own emotions.  After this past Sunday hanging out with his family, I started becoming really unhappy. I ruminated about these negative thoughts for three days. On Wednesday, I reluctantly went over to his place after work. I haven’t seen him since Sunday and it was the first time I felt reluctance to go over. I was cold and distant when he returned home from work. We didn’t cuddle that night. It was the first time we didn’t cuddle. The next morning, he left without giving me a goodbye kiss. It was the first time he left without kissing me. I kept thinking about these non-actions and continued to ruminate about negative things. I was acting like that ‘his and her diary’ image. I couldn’t sleep after he didn’t kiss me and woke up early to get to work. I was like 15 min early to work that day (this never happens either lol). That day at work, we went the morning without any texts. At around 11am, he texted me “so are you going to tell me what’s going on?”. I finally confessed to him that I was having doubts about our relationship and that I didn’t think we were working out. He was taken aback, questioning why I even had these thoughts in the first place. He asked why. By the time I responded in a paragraph text, he was already outside of my workplace with a bag of pastries from 85 degrees. He had gotten me three potato cheeses because they ran out of them the day before. He texted, “wow” in response to my paragraph. We talked a little bit outside and he told me that if I think I’m gona be happier without him, then it’s not something within his control. He said that there’s nothing about our relationship that we can’t fix, that he’d fight for us. I asked him if he’s fine either way- if I were to leave or stay. He said no, because he loves me and cares about me a lot, and he would be unhappy without me in his life. I ended up crying on his shoulder. (Actually, I was tearing up when I was texting him too.) I told him that I’d think about whether or not I wanted to leave the relationship and that we’d talk later.  I went home from work and was obsessively trying to find advice online on how to know when to break up. I went on Reddit and felt like some of their answers matched my situation. Reddit is like the WebMD of relationships for me. It enables me to make a mountain out of a molehill. After a few hours of research, I felt like breaking up was the way to go. 

That night, around 7:30, I texted him to ask when we could meet. I had the intention of breaking up with him. He said now and drove to my house from his workplace. We sat in his car and there was barely any conversation. On his end, it was more like- I don’t understand why you want to break up, what’s so bad about our relationship. On my end it was like- now that I’m here with you, I’m questioning if breaking up is what I really want to do or is it my craziness that’s making me think this way. Basically, what I wanted was reform. I wanted to see effort on his part and I felt like me asking nicely previously didn’t really do much to change his habits. I wanted reform and I also knew I wanted to see him in the future. If he had this mindset that nothing was wrong, then what effort was I going to see? He asked me, “well, what is it? If you don’t make a decision then I’ll make one for you.” I told him I couldn’t decide. He said “We don’t have to be together. There. Now you don’t have to be stressed out.” I sat there for a few minutes. He said, “Is there anything you want to add?”. I said no. And by this point he’s kinda bawling. I reached over to try to comfort him but he told me to stop. I then left the car and went back home, feeling relieved that we came to a decision. 

The feelings didn’t really hit me yet. I just thought, did I make the right decision? Man, I wanted to go here and there and do this and that with you, and now we can’t. I thought about his negative qualities and was like, well maybe it’s better this way. Lastly, I thought, “so... do I go back to online dating now?” About half an hour after the break up, he called me. First thing he said was, “is this what you want? I don’t want to lose you.” I responded, “you’re funny.” We were both in an emotional state, I was tearing up almost through our entire 45 min conversation. All the things I wanted to say in the car came out. He had an open ear and open mind. He said that I mean everything to him. “Tell me what you want me to do and what you don’t want me to do.” So I told him. These were the main things.

1. We need to have more fun. 

2. Our dynamic has grown into be like a mother-son relationship (I’m the mom). Although it’s nice and all that you’re passive when I want the things I want, I don’t want to always be the one to make decisions for us. I want you to take initiative as well. Plan things for us. 

3. Work on your attitude. It’s draining being around someone who bitches and complains about trivial matters that everyone goes through. 

4. Nurture our relationship. Check in from time to time about how it’s going. Don’t just pay attention to it when it’s in danger. 

Anyway, he responded very positively and gave great feedback. He sounded serious and hopeful that we can make a change for the better. His ideas included limiting screen time, not making excuses as to why he can’t plan things for us, talking less and doing more. He disclosed some personal thing about his parents in respects to his negative attitude. It showed that he was being introspective and putting effort into trying to understand his character. I was careful to try not to sound like I wanted to change him or control him. I told him that he should do these things because he wants to too, not just because I want him to. He assured me that these are things he wants for himself too, and that I help him become a better person. 

If there’s one thing I learned about him, it’s that he’s actually really good at making changes when he is determined to. 

I miss him. I’ll be seeing him tomorrow since our “break up” and he has a few things planned for us in the weeks ahead. Let’s see how things go.