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wardenparker · 1 year ago

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In the Heights, part 1

Maxwell Lord x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 17.5k Warnings: Cursing. Alcohol/food consumption, single dad Max, mention of divorce and unhappy marriage, probably inaccurate portrayal of being a high school student in the 60s, yearning, mutual pining, friends to lovers, the love is requited they're just idiots, the one that got away, high school crush, poor communication, mistaken sexuality assumptions, people being skeptical about Max, reader is full of sunshine, tipsy behaviours. Summary: A long time ago in a life that seems completely forgotten, you had a crush on your classmate Max Lorenzano. The world has changed a lot since then - but when you discover that your old friend is your new neighbor, it seems like some things have stayed the same after all. (This story contains flashbacks.) Notes: Part 1 of 2! I won't lie to you, guys. I love Max Lord. I love him in a way that is probably not healthy at all, so Keri has once again humored me and allowed for a little One That Got Away story with this sad puppy of a man. Also, I apologize for any errors I may have missed in editing. Cold medicine and being sleepy is a bad combo.

The sight of a moving truck isn't odd in any part of New York City. People come and go from these buildings so quickly that some people never bother to get to know their neighbors at all. The only reason you'd really noticed the one this morning was because it was out front when you were leaving for work and causing a little bit of a commotion with traffic. You'd skirted it and strode across the street to grab your usual cup of coffee and bagel with cream cheese from the bodega across the street before hitting the subway. Midtown doesn't seem far when you get to just sit and read during your commute, and you've never minded. But you tuck away the information about having a new neighbor and consider baking a batch of welcome cookies for them when you get home from the office tonight - it seems like the neighborly thing to do. You can take the girl out of the small town, but you can't take the small town out of the girl.

******

Max sighs as he hauls the last box up the stairs. Alistair has already started unpacking his room, and thank God he managed to pay the moving company to at least get the large items upstairs to the third floor wall up, but then the rest of the boxes had been left on the curb when they had figured out where they knew him from. He’s just lucky they didn’t take what he had with them, but it was again a reminder of how he had fucked up. New York is supposed to be a fresh start, a new beginning, but he doesn’t know if that’s possible for him.

The positive of someplace busy like New York was supposed to be that people would ignore or look past him. They always say New Yorkers are too busy to bother with their neighbors, and that’s something he wanted this time. To just blend into the background if he could so that Alistair could have a fighting chance and not be despised because of what he had done. Alistair, for the most part, remains as optimistic and sweet as ever. He knows that people are upset with his Daddy but his love never wavers. It’s enough to push him through the bad days, thank god, and to remind him that he’s doing this for a good reason. Starting over is for his son. He will find a way - any way - to make this work.

Things are different than D.C., the energy is different. He’s reminded of the days that he was in school, hopeful for the future. Max Lorenzano was teased and bullied in school, made fun of because of his poverty, his weird foods that he ate, the holes in his shoes, and his proclivity for learning. It had been his first life lessons, but the bullying in school was better than the beatings at home. Unsure of why he is thinking about those things, he takes the first load of boxes to the trash chute.

****

It’s sometime after dinner that the batch of chocolate chip cookies you put together are finally cool enough and ready to pack up. Stacking them neatly on a plate, wrapping it in cling film, and tying it up with ribbon, you head across the hall to meet the folks that just moved into Mrs. Cristian’s old place. An empty box marked Toys in the trash chute had clued you in to a child being present, so cookies seems even more appropriate now.

Even though Max is a miserable cook, he’s unpacking the kitchen when he hears the knock at the door. Frowning slightly, he wonders if the pizza he had ordered has already gotten here. He had assumed that it would take longer than fifteen minutes. “Coming!” He dusts his hands on his jeans and walks towards the door. Opening it up as he reaches for his wallet.

“Hi neighbor!” The words - bright and sunny - are out of your mouth before you even look up, having gotten distracted by the Torres’ cat in the hallway. But the second you do, your eyes go wide. “Max?” There’s no questioning it. It’s not like you hadn’t seen him all over the news or that you didn’t remember what had happened. Everyone remembered. Just…most of the billions of people in the world hadn’t known Max Lord since he was Max Lorenzano in Lubbock, Texas.

Instantly on guard, he’s halfway expecting to be attacked, or cussed out. That was the reaction of the majority of people who recognized him. He needed to dye his hair back to his natural brown. When the diatribe doesn’t come, he frowns and takes a closer look at the pretty woman in front of him for a moment before his eyes widen and your name comes off as a whisper like a ghost from his past

****

“Hey Lame-zano!” Max hunches over his books and speeds up, trying to ignore the boys behind him. Knowing that it would do no good to turn around and confront them. It would just speed up the beat down he knows is coming. “Hey weirdo! Fuckin’ stop!”

The boys don’t stop hollering as Max speeds up. They never do. Torture is the specialty of high school jocks, or at least these particular ones, and Max is their favourite target. “Max!” His name is hisses from somewhere off to the side, and an arm shoots out to pull him out of the hallway like he’s a bad Vaudeville comedian. He’s almost yanked off his feet, but for the girl he crashes into in the disused classroom. You hush him immediately, hand over his mouth, and quickly shut the door so the scions of the football team won’t see where he’s disappeared too. “Quiet.” You warn, carefully peaking through the window to make sure they walk by.

He crouches down, grateful that you had pulled him out of the line of fire, face burning in shame at the same time. To be rescued by the prettiest girl he’s ever seen seems to be his luck, knowing you are completely aware of his lack of masculinity. “Thanks.” He murmurs quietly.

“They’re shitheads.” You mutter, shaking your head as the group of boys howls on their way by. “Absolute shitheads.” There’s no real reason for any of the other kids to be so mean to Max, but logic never stopped cruel people from being cruel. Max is different so they’re mean. It’s as simple as that.

“They are still better than I am.” He huffs, terrified they will find him and humiliate him in front of you. It’s a dirty feeling, to know that you are going to be here to witness his utter ruination.

“How?” That doesn’t make any sense to you, and your brow furrows at him as you lean back against the door. You’ll give it another minute or two before you both go out there. Maybe the trio will move on to another target for a while. Sometimes that target is you, but you’d take it every time if it meant they would leave Max alone. “You mean they’re better at playing football than you? Who cares?”

“They are popular.” He reminds you. “Their parents are influential. People respect them.” Respect is what he craves, yearns for.

"They're bullies." And it stings, because one of those awful idiots out there is your own cousin. But because you have different last names, most people don't know. You want nothing to do with him and vice versa. "People don't respect them, they're either ass kissers or afraid." Shrugging slightly, you cross your arms over your chest, knowing that you don't exactly sound very ladylike at the moment. You could care less at the moment, though. You would only care if cussing offended Max.

“You don’t understand.” Max shakes his head and stares at you. “Why are you hiding from them? They don’t torment you.” He’s jealous of that, if he’s honest, but he’s also grateful that they don’t. Knowing that you are too good for that, for him to even talk to.

"Sure they do." It might not be as loud or as often, but they still pick on you. "Yesterday Lewis Sinclair practically pulled up my skirt in chemistry class because I answered too many questions correctly." You shake your head again, scowling this time. "They're all awful. You shouldn't listen to what they say."

“They are right, I am a loser.” Max snorts, standing up when they have passed by and don’t seem to be doubling back. “Everyone knows it.” He’s learned that he will have to reinvent himself, become someone people want to know. It’s how he will become important and successful.

"You're not." At least, you've never thought so. But maybe that doesn't count for much in his view of things. It's not like the boy you've had a quiet crush on since seventh grade has ever looked at you more than a few times - and even then it was to ask you for help in class. This might be the longest conversation you've ever had with him. "They're mean because you're different from them. That doesn't mean you're a loser."

“I guess it doesn’t matter.” He sighs and looks down at his feet. “Are you going home after this? I think we’ve missed the bus.” That means he will get home late to do his chores. Which means he will get yelled at if his father comes home early.

"We could walk?" Neither of you lives too far from the school despite most of the town being spread out to small farms or ranches, or even just decent-size patches of land. You know for a fact that the Lorenzanos live pretty close because you moved closer to them just last summer. The implosion of your family's happily little bubble wasn't public knowledge, thank goodness.

“Okay.” He bites his lip and wonders why you want to walk with him. If it’s some sort of trick. He nods and decides that walking with you is better than being alone. “Do you need anything from your locker?”

"Yeah." Nodding, you hold up the books in your arms. "I need to swap these and grab my jacket. It will only take a second, I promise." It shouldn't make you feel so warm and pleased that a boy - this boy - wants to walk home with you, but he's sweet. He's always been sweet. Ever since he moved here when you were kids. It was a shame when he came to school one day with no trace of his accent left, but it hadn't made him any less cute.

“Hopefully they won’t double back, so you can take your time.” He doesn’t want to rush you, even though every second counts. It’s the most he’s ever talked to you and he likes it. You are nice. It doesn’t hurt that he has been harboring a crush on you.

Opening the classroom door carefully, you poke your head into the hallway to see it mostly cleared and swallow a sigh. "I think they're gone," you murmur, reaching back to wave for him to follow you. "C'mon. We'll be on our way home in no time."

“Hopefully I beat my father home.” Max huffs as he follows you out of the classroom and both of you hustle down the hall.

"Will you be in trouble if you don't?" That idea bothers you, but not knowing anything about his father, you're not sure if it's realistic or not. He wouldn't be the first kid to get yelled at or even hit for not following a rule.

“It- it’s best if we hurry.” Max admits, biting his lip. “I don’t know if he planned to stop by the bar before coming home and he doesn’t like it when my chores are not done.”

"I can help." You promise instantly, tugging your locker open to exchange your books and shove them into your bag to go home. Your mother is still working and will be for hours. As long as you're home and have dinner ready for her when she gets there, she doesn't keep track of what else you do.

“You-“ he’s momentarily lost for words at your offer. No one has ever offered to help him. With anything. “You don’t have to do that.” He promises.

"It's okay." The smile you give him at the opportunity to be helpful and spend a little more time with him, is brilliant. "Come on, we should hightail it and between the two of us we'll have everything done in no time."

“Are you sure?” He frowns, not wanting to take advantage of your kindness.

“Absolutely.” Slamming your locker closed, you grab his hand and head for the exit, feeling positively brave. Your crush on Max might be unrequited, but at least you can be his friend. Everyone deserves a friend.

“My house.” He grimaces and swallows slightly. “It’s not….fancy.” He feels his face get hot and he’s a little defensive. “But it’s clean. My mother says that being poor is no excuse for being dirty.”

“My house isn’t fancy, either.” When he doesn’t pull his hand away you just keep it, wondering why it’s taken you all the way to senior year to even do this much. You’ve never been particularly brave, but this is just…it’s just talking to someone. Right? “It’s okay. Fancy doesn’t automatically equal better.”

“Yes it does.” Max argues, looking at you like you are crazy. “Fancy is always better. It means that you can have the best.” He sighs. “One day I will have the best of everything.”

****

“You remember me?” As much as you remember him - every detail, down to the curve of his nose that he hates and the hair that he had dyed and apparently dyed back again - you didn’t expect him to remember you. It’s been years since the last time you saw him face to face. A whole ten years or more. He stopped coming back to Lubbock after a while and you didn’t exactly blame him. There was never anything exciting going on there.

“Of course I remember you.” You were one of the few good memories he had from Lubbock. “What are you doing here?” Of all the people in New York, he had never anticipated seeing you. And apparently his neighbor. He had expected you to be married and have kids, although that could still be true. His eyes drop down to your left hand and he can’t see it because it’s holding a plate of cookies.

“I—I live across the hall.” As startled as you are, you’re still standing in the hallway of your apartment building and you shift your weight nervously from foot to foot. “I saw a box in the chute marked for toys, so I thought I’d bring cookies and introduce myself.” Now that you know it’s Max, though, your cheeks are burning hotter than the early July heatwave. “Just…wanted to be friendly, that’s all.”

“It’s- it’s good to see you.” Max opens the door wider, motioning for you to come in. “How long has it been?” He knows exactly how long it has been since he’s seen you. Twelve years, two months and six days since he’s last seen you.

“Twelve years.” You answer far too quickly, but you step inside his apartment anyway. It’s identical to yours except being flipped - a mirror image that lets you know where everything is with only minimal thought. “It’s good to see you too. You’ve…well, it’s been a long time. I’m sure you’ve been up to a lot. You always had big dreams.”

He frowns, certain that you must have known about the dream stone incident. Been affected by it. “Yes, I did. That is over now.” He looks back at the closed bedroom door at the end of the hall. “All I want is to be a good dad.”

“Who says that’s not a big dream?” Carefully setting the plate down on the corner of his kitchen counter, you wipe your hands nervously and shove them in your pockets. “If you ask me, that's about the biggest dream there is. Parenthood is a big deal.”

“Yes.” He nods seriously. “I let Alistair down once, but I will not let him down again.” He sighs and looks up at you guiltily. “Do you have kids?”

“I was never lucky enough.” Something that your mother considers the ultimate failing. She considers your choice to be a career woman to be a betrayal of her plan for you. The fact that you wouldn’t just settle for any guy who would have you was a tragedy in her book. “I have a job I love, and a cat to keep me company.”

“I like cats.” Max offers nervously, looking around the apartment and wondering what you think of the mess he has accumulated. “Sorry I’m not unpacked.” He offers, eyes finding you again and finding you just as pretty as he remembered. Maybe more so.”

“I didn't expect you would be.” A smile quirks up the corners of your mouth and you can’t help being glad to see his hair back to its natural brown. You had seen the blonde in his tv commercials and on the news — it didn’t suit him. “Hell, I think it took me a month to unpack and it was just me and Dantes.” You fluster slightly, finding his eyes on you. “That’s…that’s my cat.

“Dantes huh?” His lips quirk up in a grin, something that hasn’t happened in a long time. “Like the Inferno?” He jokes.

"I named him after the Count of Monte Cristo, but he's as temperamental as a volcano." He still has the most beautiful smile, it twists your stomach exactly the way it did when you were teenagers. "You can come over and say hi anytime you like. I'm just across the hall...and even if I'm at work Dantes loves company."

“Alistair would love that. He has always wanted a pet, but….” He frowns, remembering that he had always said that he would get him one later and later never came. Another failing. “He would love it.” He finishes lamely.

"Come over anytime," you repeat, smiling a little brighter when that old, familiar crease notches in Max's forehead. "I'm sure Alistair and Dantes will get along famously." It will have the added benefit of getting to see him sometimes, and despite feeling ridiculous for still nursing your schoolgirl crush, you won't deny yourself a small, private pleasure. "It's nice to have an old friend around again."

You had been a friend to him, one of the few. The bittersweet pang of regret thumps inside him and he nods. “That would be good.” He agrees. “My- my ex-wife had animals and he- he misses them.” He admits.

“No problem.” Instinctively your hand goes out to him, touching him gently on the arm. “But I’m…I’m sorry to hear that. The ex part…”

Max can only blame himself. He had spent too much time chasing his dreams and Genji had grown tired of waiting for him to pay attention to her. He was lucky she let Alistair live with him, although it left her able to travel with her new husband. He shrugs. “She is happier and I am grateful for our son.”

“Sounds like you got the winning end of the deal to me.” You offer him a smile, knowing that transitions can be difficult. And divorces are never easy either.

“Only after almost losing him.” Max acknowledges, frowning as he remembers how frightened Alistair was, and how he had to run away because of Max’s mistakes. “But that is now the past. We are here for a fresh start.”

“New York is a great place for a fresh start.” He’s probably more than sick of talking about what happened, and you have no desire to sully this unexpected little reunion, so you don’t say a thing about it. “Definitely more to do than in Lubbock,” you joke instead.

“What brought you here?” Max asks, interested in your life since he last saw you.

“The intense desire to get away from my mother.” It’s only half a joke, and you chuckle when the corners of his lips turn up in understanding. “I work for a publishing house in Midtown. It’s good work and decent pay. And it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than editing articles for the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal and sitting through tedious dinners with whatever men my mother was trying to set me up with.”

“You never married?” He frowns slightly, unable to believe that someone would not have snatched you up.

“I was engaged once. It…didn’t work out.” Finding out he’d been cheating on you for half your relationship doomed that marriage before it could even start. You’re just glad that you had found out about it before walking down that aisle. You’re almost grateful that that girl out in St. Louis had decided to call you up and cuss you out. “What they say about airline pilots might not be true of all, but it’s certainly true of some.”

“I’m sorry.” He winces and shakes his head. “He must have been an idiot to let you slip away.” You had been his dream girl for a long time until he had met Genji.

"He wanted the world on a string." It was what he always said. It just wasn't until later that you had realized what he meant by it. "Sounds like we both had idiots in our lives. Otherwise she wouldn't have let you get away, either."

“I was never there.” Max admits. “Even when I was. I was too focused on becoming someone.”

"You'll be there for him now." You can hear him playing in the back bedroom, crowing happily over a spaceman toy. "And he's lucky to have you."

“I hope so.” Failure is one of Max’s greatest fears and he’s already done that.

"You never could see how special you are." It slips out before you can stop it, a slight shrug of your shoulders is the best you can do in pseudo-self-defense. He never did think much of himself, but the more you had gotten to know Max, the more obvious it was to you that that was a result of how his father treated him.

“You don’t know the things that I’ve done.” It’s selfish but he hopes you never find out. “I better finish unpacking the kitchen before the pizza gets here.” He knows you wouldn’t want to stay and he doesn’t want to be rejected so he doesn’t invite you for the pepperoni pizza.

"I, uh--I'll get out of your hair." The way he shuts down breaks your heart a little, but you nod your understanding. You've overstayed your welcome and he has never felt as strongly about your friendship as you did. That's just...well, it's just life. "It's...it's really good to see you, Max."

“It’s good to see you again too.” He promises, smiling slightly. “I’m sure we will run into you again. We are neighbors.”

"Yes. It's good to see you, too." With your heart in your throat, you nod and make yourself smile as you step back to go out the door. "I'll see you around, neighbor."

****

“So prom is coming up.” Max frowns slightly as he walks with you. He’s nervous because you haven’t said anything about prom and you talk about everything. He wonders if you have a date that you don’t want to tell him about. “Are you going?”

"I don't think so." Walking home together has become a ritual. Today you wrap your jacket a little tighter as you walk to block out the early spring chill and try not to get excited about the question he's just asked. No one else had asked you to prom, that's true. But you would have turned them down anyway -- you've been holding your breath hoping that Max would ask. "Can't go to prom without a date."

“We should go.” Max argues. “It’s Senior Prom. We can’t miss out on memories like that.” He’s been working on the weekends with his dad to save up for a tuxedo rental and a corsage. “The theme is ‘Enchantment Under the Sea’.” He reminds you.

"You...want to take me to prom?" You know the smile on your face is far too wide, but this is exactly what you've been dreaming of. These walks home, spending a little time at his house before his dad gets home from work, even starting to chat a little with his mother sometimes. You may not be Max's girlfriend, but you want to be, and you've made every effort possible to show him that.

“If you want to.” Max bites his lip. “I know you will probably have someone else ask you, and it’s okay if you’d rather go with them, but I’ve been saving up to buy a corsage and take you out to eat.” He admits. “I’ve been working with my dad.”

"I want to." It's too quick of a reply to be ladylike, but you don't much care about that. Not when you're actually being asked by the right boy. "With you. I want to go to prom with you. Yes."

“Yeah?” He’s surprised, but grins happily. “Then let’s go to prom together.” He nods, beaming and his posture straightens proudly. “You and me, we will have fun.” He promises.

"Yes, we will." Already convinced of it, you don't care a single second for anything or anyone else in the world right now. Max asked you to prom. That's all you've wanted for ages. "I'm going to make my dress," you announce, smiling up at him as you walk down the sidewalk. "My mother has some extra fabric from a wedding that she made dresses for. It's the most beautiful shade of blue you've ever seen."

“That will be good.” He nods. “Do you want me to match your dress?”

"If you want to." The idea is a little thrilling - looking like you belong together - and you nod. "I think you'd look very handsome in blue."

“Then that will be the tuxedo that I order.” He promises, looking forward to the idea of going with you and seeing you dressed up. For him.

It doesn't seem real that he would actually want to go with you, but as you walk alongside him toward his house it feels like the very best kind of dream. He isn't shy about wanting the best of everything, and you always encourage him, but it isn't like you're the prettiest or most popular girl in school. There are other, arguably better choices. But he still asked you. "I can't wait."

He smiles, amazed that you had said yes. He doesn’t know why, but you seem to like being around him. “We will have a good time. Dance and see what the fuss is about.”

"I don't think I've ever seen you dance." There's no reason you would have, all things considered, but the thought spreads your smile a little further.

“I can dance.” He huffs, almost insulted by the idea that he couldn’t. The fact that he’s been practicing in his bedroom by himself is irrelevant.

"I never said you couldn't!" When he pouts like that it makes you want to find out if his lips are as soft as they look but you would never try to kiss him out of the blue. Only fast girls kiss boys they aren't going steady with - and your mother warned you what happens to fast girls. Well...she's said 'And you know what happens to fast girls, don't you?', but you were always too scared to admit that you didn't have any clue what she was talking about.

“Good, because I can.” Just to prove his point, he stops walking and grabs your hand to pull you into his arms to dance a small little circle around right there on the sidewalk.

It's like a movie scene when he reaches for you, his hand on your back burning through you despite the chilly weather. You could just melt right into the pavement on the spot. "Well, look at you," you hum, feeling breathless with your heart beating so fast. "A real dancer."

“All gentlemen know how to dance.” He informs you, grinning widely as he lets go and steps back to bow gracefully.

"Then I'll have to work on becoming a little more ladylike for you before prom." A soft giggle escapes you when he bows, and you shift your bookbag on your shoulder.

“Don’t change a thing about yourself.” He protests, shaking his head. “You are just right as you are.”

"You're very sweet." As the two of you turn to start walking together again, your hand itches to reach for his so you shove it in your pocket. "The sweetest boy in the whole world is taking me to prom."

There’s nothing that he can say to that, his mind going completely blank except to repeat that you think he’s sweet over and over again. He bites his lip and tries not to look too happy about your comment.

"Have you heard back from any colleges yet?" He has talked about wanting to go. You've talked about it together, and he has so many ideas for what his business degree could turn into that it makes your head spin. But he hasn't said yet if he has had any acceptance letters so it's made you wonder.

“A few.” He sighs and wishes that he were rich or his family was rich. “I can’t go though.”

"You have to have been offered scholarships." You know what trouble he would have with being able to go. It's the same one you have which is exactly why your own mother told you to stop being stupid and forget about it. Colleges, apparently, aren't for girls.

“Not enough for Harvard.” He had already done the math, several times and just couldn’t afford it. “I have to turn down an Ivy League school because I’m too poor.” It stings and he hates it.

"I'm so sorry, Max..." His dreams mean the world to him, and you know it. But there are some things that are beyond even his grasp. If you could find a way to make the world perfect for him you would do it instantly, but that dream is still out of your grasp.

“It’s not your fault.” He swallows. “Have you been hearing from colleges?”

"No." You shake your head, staring down at your shoes as you walk. "All that work you helped me put into the applications and my mother took them out of the mailbox and threw them away." The words ring in your mind, her voice echoing in your head. "College isn't for girls."

“College is for everyone.” He argues, immediately upset for you. You had worked hard on those applications and they were really good. You would have gotten three of your choices for sure. “We can redo them, hope they accept them late?” He offers quickly.

"She wouldn't help me with tuition." And unfortunately, he knows that you would need financial help to go to school, too. "I would have to get a full scholarship somewhere, and even with good grades I just don't know if it would happen."

“If you don’t try, you won’t ever find out.” He reminds you. “Great rewards sometimes require great risks.”

He has no idea that he sounds wise when he says things like that, and when you tilt your head to peek up at him again he's looking at you so earnestly that you sigh quietly. It makes your heart ache to know how special he is to you and that he couldn't ever feel that way about you, but you'll soak up every ounce of his attention while you can possibly get it. Before he goes off and conquers the world or something. "You really think so?"

“I do.” He nods seriously and frowns as he thinks. “After- after my parents are asleep, I could sneak over and help you.” He murmurs quietly. “Apply to your top three and I’ll mail them off from my house. That way she can’t throw them away.”

"Tonight." You decide, ready to believe anything is possible if he has that kind of faith in you. "Do you really think you can manage to sneak out? I don't want you to get in trouble on my account." His father could lose his temper over almost anything, and the last thing you wanted was for Max to suffer any extra. Not for you.

“I can.” He smirks slightly and straightens proudly. “We will make sure you go to college.” He knows you want to be an editor, maybe even a writer one day and he knows that a good college will make that happen.

Overwhelmed with the idea that it could be possible, you surge forward and grab his arm, planting a grateful kiss on his cheek before you pull away again just as fast. Your own face is burning, but just in this moment you find that you don't actually care that much. "Thank you," you murmur, beaming at him with gratitude and excitement. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve such a good friend. Thank you, Max."

“Thank you.” He murmurs quietly. “You are the one who befriended me.” He reminds you. You had pulled him into that classroom and saved him for another beating.

"I should have done it a long time ago." The embarrassment of not being braver stings, but there's nothing you can do besides swallow it down.

“No.” Max shakes his head. “You did nothing wrong. We all do what we have to. You were just trying to protect yourself.”

"Still." There isn't any point in wishing to change the past. You know that and he's right that you were trying to protect yourself. "You deserve the world, Max. Really."

“One day I will have the world.” He vows, grinning at you. “And so will you.”

****

It's a random, seemingly unimportant Saturday morning when a small knock sounds on your door. You had been sitting with a cup of coffee and a muffin trying to convince yourself to work on the draft of the book that you had been chipping away at for years when you heard it. Dantes mewed at the sound like it was rude for interrupting his long morning of staring at the ceiling, and you just laugh. "No, no," you chuckle at your cat. "Don't disturb yourself. I'll get it." The prim Russian Blue doesn't move when you get up from your seat and you peer through the peephole to see no one standing there at all. Opening the door curiously, you find a little boy with impossibly wide eyes standing on your doorstep. "Well, hello." You've seen this little boy before, coming in and out of the building or on the stairs, always hugging tight to Max's side. "You must be Alistair."

“Dad said that you have a cat that I could play with?” He asks, curious to find out the truth of this. “He knows I was coming over. He said he would be just a minute behind me. Is that okay?”

"Of course it is." Stepping back to let him inside, you point through the kitchen to the cat tree. "That's Dantes. Let me get you some of his favorite toys and a few treats you can give him, and you guys can play in the living room, okay?" This is a cat who loves kids, so you're sure everything will go well, but you want Max's son to go into the first meeting armed with all the right tools.

“Okay!” He grins at you and nearly bounces on his toes with glee. “I’m excited to meet him. I’ve wanted a pet for a long time but dad didn’t have time, but I don’t blame him.” He tells you seriously, nodding for emphasis.

“Your dad is doing his very best for you, and that includes making sure you had a neighbor with a cat to visit. You’re welcome to come over any time you like, and your dad is too.” You leave the door cracked open for Max to follow, careful that it isn’t enough for Dante’s to escape, and bring Alistair to get the cat’s favorite things so they can meet.

Max had been washing your plate to bring it over to you again. Alistair had been too eager and had decided that he couldn’t wait to go meet Dantes. Max didn’t have the heart to tell him to wait, so he had sent him over and hoped you would understand.

When he tentatively pushes the door open a few minutes later, Alistair is on the living room rug dangling a toy for Dante’s to bat around with a bowl full of kitty kibble and assorted small treats for the cat and a muffin and glass of juice for himself. You’ve set yourself back up at your little kitchenette table a few feet away, though your manuscript is now pushed aside in favor of the New York Times crossword. “Hey.” When you spy Max’s head peak around the door, you wave him in. “Morning, neighbor.”

“It’s not too early, is it?” He asks, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. “I wrangled him as long as I could.” He grins and shrugs. “But then breakfast was over.”

“It’s never too early.” Not for him is what you want to say, but instead you say, “not for friends.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Not until coffee for me. I used to take all these supplements and herbs, but now it’s just pure caffeine.”

“Can I pour you a cup? I always make a full pot for some reason and never drink it all.” Up and out of your seat before he can even answer, you’re grabbing a mug out of your cupboard and pulling out the bakery box from your trip down the block this morning. “I also have more muffins than one human can manage. I guess the wind told me to be ready for guests today.”

“I’m sorry we showed up unannounced.” Max winces and looks around. “If you have plans…..” He doesn’t want to intrude on your day if you are busy. It would be easy to get Alistair to leave. He’s been promising to take him to Central Park.

“I was going to sit and curse at my manuscript all day,” you admit with a shrug and pour out his cup. “You saved me from getting frustrated with myself.”

“Oh! A book?” He asks, remembering your dream of writing a book. “Is it your first? Or are you published under a pen name?”

"This would be my first. I've been fighting with it for years and I'm still not satisfied with the second half of the story." Coming back to the table, you set down a mug of coffee and the box of muffins for him with a plate. "Alistair asked for the chocolate chip, I hope it's okay that I said yes."

“Of course.” He can’t help but huff in amusement. “Probably better than the burned eggs and cereal we had for breakfast.”

“Help yourself,” you insist, motioning to the box. Sitting down across from him like this is oddly familiar - like your high school cafeteria should materialize around you any second - but you don’t dislike it.

“I appreciate it.” He’s remembering all the times you had eaten together over the years. Including the one meal he bought you before prom.

“How is the job search going?” The few little talks you had had in the stairwell or while grabbing your mail from the boxes in the lobby had clued you in to how Max’s life is running these days and it’s an unfortunate reality. Since the incident people have been wary of him and even downright rude.

“I will find something soon.” He forces out cheerily. “I am hoping that a few places will call me back.” He doubts it, but all he can do is hope someone gives him a chance.

“I know it isn’t…Your dream or anything, but the publishing house I work for is expanding so they’re hiring all sorts of positions.” It was something you had been discussing ad nauseam in the office and had been meaning to mention to him anyway. Now is as good a time as any. “I can get a complete list from my friend in HR if you like? And I’ll vouch for you if you decide to put in for anything.”

“Are you sure you want to be associated with me?” He asks seriously. Some of the comments you have made lead him to believe that you know what happened last winter. “I don’t want to put your profession or your own job at risk.”

“I’m sure.” You’ve always been sure about him. He might not understand it - hell, sometimes you didn’t always understand it - but that’s just how you feel about him. “I know you, Max. I trust you.”

“You haven’t seen me in twelve years before this week.” He reminds you quietly, looking down at the blueberry muffin in his hands. “I wasn’t a good man.”

“I might not know anything about Maxwell Lord,” you lower your voice, not conspicuously but not wanting to perk Alistair’s ears. “But I know Max Lorenzano. He helped me get into college. Took me to prom. Listened to every story and fear and triumph that I had for years. You were my best friend, Max. Let me repay you for helping me believe in myself.”

Max swallows harshly, overcome with the glowing review of a boy who had been so ashamed of being poor. It sounds like you preferred him. “Thank you.” He replies hoarsely.

“I know it’s been a while.” But you’ve thought about him constantly, and even though you might not admit that to him so that you don’t have to have an awkward conversation with your first love about him actually being your first love, you’re not shy about wanting to help. “I’d like to be friends again. Like we used to be.”

“Like we used to be.” He nods. Friends where a shy and awkward boy had an unrequited crush on you. He had survived it once and he could do it again to have you back in his corner.

“Alistair’s very sweet.” It changes the topic cleanly because you don’t want Max to get a whiff of the fact that your feelings for him have come back nearly full force. Not that he had any idea the first time around. Or if he did, he hadn’t let you know it. Instead you put your focus on his son, the excitable little boy that he has put all his focus in himself.

“He is a good kid.” Max can easily agree with that. “I don’t deserve him, but for some reason he loves me.” His eyes drift to the living room and he smiles when he sees Alistair petting Dantes and cooing happily at the attention loving cat.

If you were bold, you’d promise him that he’s not difficult at all to love, but you’ve never been bold. You hadn’t even been bold enough to kiss him at prom. Instead you smile warmly and pick up your coffee. “You deserve much more than you think.”

“I think we will have to disagree on that.” He murmurs, snorting softly. “I didn’t realize what I was doing until I almost lost him. An angry mob, coming for me, scared him and he was wandering the streets of D.C. by himself.” He stares down at his coffee mug, glad to get this off his chest. “I would have never forgiven myself if he had been hurt.”

“What is life if not making mistakes and learning lessons?” You had been watching right along with the rest of the world while it all happened, but being on the outside must have been a very different experience than being where he was on the inside. “He’s okay. He’s safe, and he has a father who loves him. In time you’ll learn to forgive yourself like he’s already forgiven you.”

“Perhaps.” Max won’t agree with that, but he also won’t count it out. “First I need to prove that I can be useful. Helpful.”

"Sometimes it's okay to just have fun, too." But you won't push. Or press. "I haven't seen you since college," you say instead. "What have you been up to, besides having that angel of a little boy?"

“Married…divorced.” Max sighs and shrugs. “Tried to make Black Gold work. I really did. Convinced I was going to find oil.”

"There are lots of places in the world with oil. It isn't so crazy to think that you would find some." Anytime you had seen his name in the papers, you had tried to follow it. Unfortunately it seemed to be more bad news than good for the last few years.

“Except I never did.” He has made an uneasy peace with his past and shrugs slightly. “Perhaps it was for the best. I certainly learned humility.”

"There must have been bright spots." You can't believe that his entire adult life has been miserable.

“Not as many as there were during our senior year.” He admits with a small chuckle. “I was chasing the dream and didn’t stop to admire the roses.”

"Maybe that's what this is, then." The urge to take it as a compliment to you is there, but it would be conceited to think that he means you were what made it good. "Time to stop and admire the world around you."

“Admire the world around me, huh?” He contemplates it for a moment, wondering where you go so wise, but then he remembers that you have been living your dream for some time. Max just needs to figure out what his new dream is. “I think you are right.”

****

It took a couple of weeks for Max to go through the interview process, and your bosses had pulled you into a conference room with an HR rep for an hour of round table "Are you fucking serious?" about the fact that your name is listed as a personal reference on his resume. In the end they had relented. In eight years with the company you had never had a single mark against you on your file and you're one of the most productive editors on staff. If they're going to take anyone's word at all about a potential new hire, it's going to be yours. Now, two weeks into Max's time as a member of the office's janitorial staff, your coworkers are starting to take notice. They've noticed that you arrive together every morning and leave together every evening, and that sometimes you chat quickly in the hall in passing. Almost all of them have recognized him at this point, of course, and it seems like they've deputized your closest work friend to ask you about him.

Max is eager to please, finding that the work is not beneath him as he might have once imagined. He pushes his cart around the offices with pride and tries to ignore the dirty looks and comments. Especially the prick in editing that purposefully made a mess for him to clean up. Seemingly enjoying watching Max clean up after him. He sees one of your co-works walking up to you so he doesn’t stop, just giving you both a respectful nod and a small smile as he makes his way to the bathrooms for their twice a day cleaning.

It’s good to see him taking pride in what he’s doing now. Tangible results of his work being something that seems to satisfy Max in a way you hadn’t expected but are grateful to see. “Hey Kim.” She’s buzzing directly over to you without being subtle, so you slow down to talk to her.

“Soooooooooo.” She lifts her brows and looks at Max’s retreating back. Instead of the boxy power suits he had been wearing, he was wearing a pair of work chinos and a polo shirt. Perhaps a little more dressy than most janitors but it’s an effort to look professional. “This is interesting.”

“The hallway?” You raise a skeptical eyebrow at her, continuing to walk back toward your desks at the other end of the floor. “I don’t know that I would call it interesting.”

“You know what I’m talking about.” She huffs and jostles your shoulder lightly. “Max Lord.” She clarifies, rolling her eyes. “How do you know him?”

Yes, you knew, but that doesn’t mean you’ve exactly been excited for someone to come asking about it. You know what people still think of him. “We grew up together,” you tell Kim honestly. “Same home town in Texas.”

“You grew up with Max Lord?” Her eyes widen and flutter back towards the hallway where Max’s cart is sitting outside the Men’s restroom.

“Yep.” Trying to not make it seem like a big deal, you shrug. “We were friends. Now he’s my neighbor and we’re friends again.”

“Friends.” She’s skeptical about that, but she can’t deny that Max is far more attractive in person than he was in those horrible television ads. “Uh huh, if you want to keep your cards close…” she eyes you, waiting to see if you say anything else.

“What?” Her face says she doesn’t believe you, and she’s fucking right not to but you do your best to look innocent.

“You haven’t noticed that - despite being Max Lord - your friendly, neighbor janitor is a very good looking man?” She scoffs slightly and sends you a knowing look. “And just your type based on the men you like looking at when we drag you out to happy hour.”

“There isn’t any despite being with Max,” you defend instantly, feeling a little indignant. “He’s a good guy who did wrong and he’s doing everything he can to rebuild his life now.” It’s bad enough he got bullied in school, he doesn’t deserve that bullshit at work, too. “And—” Clearing your throat carefully doesn’t help you sound less guilty at all. “I…don’t have a type.”

Her brows shoot up at the vehemence in your voice and she doesn’t remind you that he almost destroyed the entire world with that wish granting trick he had pulled. She doesn’t think that you would listen and you are a good friend. “If you say so.” She murmurs quietly. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

"There's nothing for me to get hurt about." A fact which makes swallowing hard for longer than you're proud of, and you avert your eyes back to watching your shoes tread the carpet like you used to do in the halls of your high school walking side by side with him.

“Do you want to come out with us tonight?” Sensing that you are wanting to change the subject, she obliges. “We are going out for apps and drinks.”

“Sure.” It’s been a while since you had a night out with the girls - since Max appeared in your life - and it sounds like a good idea. Like having fun instead of sitting in your apartment hoping and wondering if he’ll come over to say hello after already being at work together all day. “The usual spot?” There’s a bar not far from the office that does great food, and sometimes there’s single guys from other nearby offices to flirt with. It usually makes for an entertaining Friday night.

“Absolutely.” She nods, shooting you a grin.

“Okay. I’ll just let Max know.” It will be the first time since starting his job that he’s committed home alone, but it’s not a difficult trip. He already knows the connections by heart.

“You…..you should bring him.” Kim says after a moment. “Let him hang out socially. Might help.”

"Are you sure?" The look you give Kim is skeptical, knowing that some of the girls you usually get drinks with might not be so warm about getting to know Max. And usually there aren't many guys that tag along. "Are any of the guys coming tonight?"

“There’s Brad and Dan.” She acknowledges, shrugging slightly. “It could be good for them to see him as a normal man.”

"It would be good for them to see normal human interaction." You roll your eyes, but only playfully. Brad is more than a little bit of a horndog and Dan seems to have learned everything about how to be manly from Brad. It isn't a bad thought. Getting to get to know some people outside of their roles at the office is probably a really good idea, actually. Contemplating it for a second, you nod. "I'll invite him. But if he ends up not being able to come it's probably because his babysitter couldn't stay late on short notice, not because he doesn't want to be social."

“Then I won’t tell anyone that he might come.” She decides, knowing that surprising them might them best thing anyway. You both stop at your desk and she reaches out and touches your arm, “I don’t want you to be cross with me.” She tells you. “I just wanted to see what was going on.”

"I'm not cross." Kim has always been a good friend, and you squeeze her hand back gently. "I just wish it were easier for him to get the clean slate he came here for. But you're right. Socializing will be good."

“It doesn’t help that he broadcasted his mistake.” Kim reminds you quietly. “But I have to admit, he’s been nothing but polite since he’s been working here. And the bathrooms are spotless.”

"He knows he did wrong. And everyone deserves a chance to start fresh." At least, that's what you've always said. And so far you haven't had too many people who made you briefly regret your optimism. "It's nice of you to think of inviting him. He really is a good guy underneath everything that happened."

“He’s attractive.” She has to admit, “especially with the darker hair that looks more natural on him.”

“The blonde didn’t suit him.” A nostalgic smile drifts across your face that you barely even notice but Kim surely does. “He dyed it back to its natural color. The way he looked when we were growing up.”

“And you didn’t date?” She smiles skeptically.

“No.” A thing that makes you glance away and fluster more than you’re proud of. “We went to prom together, but we never went steady or anything.”

“Oh.” She nods and bites her lip. “Well, let me know about tonight, okay?” She doesn’t want you to be upset if it’s a case of unrequited love and that seems to be what it is.

“I will.” Your nod is enough to make her comfortable taking away, and it’s about an hour later that you catch Max moving across the hall to restock the kitchenette that services this floor of the building.

Max reasons that the staff of the publishing house is lucky. The management provides complimentary snacks and drinks beyond packs of peanuts and coffee. It’s really impressive and it makes him think of what he would have offered his own staff if Black Gold had actually become successful. He regrets how he had to tell Raquel that he couldn’t pay her that last paycheck, but he had managed to send it to her three months later when he had sold his house.

“Hey.” Slipping into the kitchen to pour a fresh cup of coffee, you grin seeing Max so diligent and seemingly satisfied with each thing he gets done. Any job is good that can be satisfying. “How’s your day?”

"I do not know how some people can be so disgusting in public." He shudders and shakes his head. "The men are the worst....but," he grimaces and lowers his voice. "I do not know how some could keep their....sanitary products unwrapped when they are used."

"Women are absolutely gross." You tell him sagely, nodding with a solemn expression to keep from giggling. "If Alistair had a sister you'd see it full force, I promise."

"I am not unused to women's monthly issues." He insists. "I was married to Alistair's mom and would often buy her the things she needed." When he remembered, which was less often than he should have. It was another regret he had, but he couldn't make up for it now.

"Speaking of things we do monthly." Waggling your eyebrows at the lame segue to make him laugh, your smile spreads when you get a confused look out of him. "Some of our coworkers are going out for drinks and stuff after work tonight. You're invited, if you'd like to call Señora Ramos and ask her to stay with Alisitair a little later."

His expression is one of shock and then he frowns. "I don't know if I should." He admits, glancing towards the door of the break room. "I don't want to cause you issues." He knows that you have taken some flack since you had convinced your bosses to give him a chance. Even if you deny it, he's caused you problems. The last thing he wants is for you to suffer more when you've been an incredible friend to him.

"You're not." And no matter how many times you need to repeat it, you always will. Max is never going to get his confidence back as long as he thinks of himself as a burden. And to you? He is anything but. "It might be good to spend time with people out of the office. Make some new friends?"

"I doubt that." He scoffs slightly and bites his lip. It would be nice to spend some time with you outside of the apartments and the office. Socially. Like that one dinner that he had managed to pay for all those years ago. "Do you want me to go?"

"Of course I do." There is no possible way you would want anything else, unless going out would truly make him unhappy somehow. "I love spending time with you." Yup. That's how that sentence goes. Absolutely.

He quietly thinks about it for a long moment before he nods. "I will call Señora Ramos and see if she can watch Alistair for a few more hours." He decides and despite his worries, his posture straightens and he looks excited.

"You deserve a night to be an adult," you remind him, but the way he straightens has you hoping that he's looking forward to it now. "I'll see you at the end of the day, okay? We can walk over to the bar together."

"I will see you then." He nods, knowing he will have to call the babysitter right away before he can really start looking forward to the idea of going out with you and your friends.

******

When the end of the work day comes, you're eager to leave your desk behind. Max hadn't come by your desk to tell you that there was a problem with plans for the evening so you're looking forward to being able to just relax with your friends - both old and new.

Max finishes up his work early, busting his ass to make sure he was done and able to put all of his supplies away and be ready for you at the elevators on time. He has gotten the go ahead from Señora Ramos and was looking forward to buying you a drink.

"Ready to go?" Though you beg your mind not to brim with memories of him picking you up for prom, they're at the top of your mind anyway as the elevator opens and Max strides out into the lobby.

"I am." He had to dry his hands on a paper towel on the way down to the lobby and shove it in his pocket. "Are you?" He asks, lifting his brows and giving you a chance to reconsider. He wouldn't blame you.

"Absolutely." You would take his hand under different circumstances. As it is, your fingers twist around the strap of your purse as you nod toward the doors. "Kim and some of the others just went ahead to grab us tables."

“Oh.” He frowns slightly but nods. “Then we should hurry, no?”

"It's not a race." It does make you chuckle, though, and you nod toward the doors before starting to walk. "We're five minutes behind at the absolute most."

"Where do you normally go to do this 'happy hour'?" Max asks as he guides you out of the building and lets you turn him in the right direction.

"There's a place called Pollard's a couple of blocks away that has really good drink deals and small plate stuff. I'm a big fan of filling myself with margaritas and flatbread on a Friday night." In fact it was something of a ritual, and you're glad to share that with him if he's inclined to it. Alistair is a strict cheese-only kind of kind when it comes to pizza but there is a whole world of more adult flavours to get behind.

"It has been a long time since I have had a margarita." He admits, wondering how you act when you have alcohol. Genji used to make fun of him for being too earnest, too eager to please when he was drunk. He had switched to champagne to make himself seem more sophisticated but actually hated the taste.

"Then you'll have to share with me." The idea lights you up inside and you nudge him while you walk. "They do this margarita tower thing...it sounds impressive but it's two or three drinks each and ridiculously cheap. Best margaritas in the city."

"Then we will have that." Max grins and nods. "And you like the...flatbreads?" He doesn't know what it is, but you seem happy about having one.

"It's just fancy pizza." You grin when he sounds confused and put your nose in the air while you walk. "Fancy metropolitan pizza. I thought you might like a change of pace from all the cheese all the time."

Max groans and rolls his eyes. "Aliastair has to try something else." He pouts slightly. "Even if it's just pepperoni."

"One day we'll have him eating a huge variety. But not quite yet." That pout hasn't changed in twenty years. It still makes you want to wrap him up in your arms and cuddle it away. Which is why you immediately shove your hands in your pockets when you see it. "For now, we'll have some adult treats."

"Something other than Fruit Loops." Max snorts with a grin. "He had me buy two boxes when we went to the bodega last weekend."

"I promise." You hold up your pinky to him after scurrying across a busy street. "No Fruit Loops."

Chuckling as he rings his own pinky around yours, he feels like he's back in high school with you. Promising that he won't become friends with your cousin, as if that could have ever happened. "I want to buy your drinks and food tonight." He tells you.

"You don't have to do that." In fact, you had been planning on just paying the tab for both of you. Considering that you're the one who invited him, you didn't want him to feel pressured or have to count pennies.

"I want to. To say thank you." He shoves his hands into his pockets and concentrates on the steps in front of him. "For helping me find the job, for being a good friend." He lowers his voice slightly. "For not hating me."

"I could never hate you." Sure there had been things you didn't understand. Or times you were hurt when he lavished attention on other people. Like the girls at college that he had told you about during their holiday breaks. But hate? You could never. "I'm glad to have my best friend back."

Friend. He reminds himself that was what he was to you. No more. He frowns slightly as he suddenly thinks about something that makes his heart drop. "You- is there someone you meet at your happy hour meetings?" He asks, slightly jealous of the idea.

"There's a couple of people who always come. Kim, Jennifer, and Gretchen for sure. And usually Carmen. Apparently this time Brad and Dan are coming, too," you tell him, fully misunderstanding the question.

"And which one are you happiest to see?" Max asks, happy mood suddenly souring.

"I mean...usually Kim, I guess?" It's impossible to stop on the pavement in the middle of Midtown, but you tilt your head and your forehead furrows when he looks upset. "Why? Do you...not like some of them?"

"I see." He shakes his head. "No, I do not know them." He reminds you. "I understand now why it never...." He breaks off and shakes his head again, adopting a charming smile. "Never mind, I am eager to meet your friends."

There's a train of thought there that you can't quite follow, but you nod vaguely and keep walking. The two of you are quiet when you pull open the door to Pollard's and Kim waves enthusiastically from a place in the corner where a half dozen small tables have been pushed together for your group. "Looks like we're over there."

Max hangs back slightly, both wary of everyone's reception of him and mulling over the knowledge that you had never been interested in him because you liked women. He had wondered why you never seemed to want to take things farther with him. One of the reasons he had looked so hard for someone in college, to get you off his mind.

After giving hugs to your friends and sitting down beside Kim, you pull out the chair on your other side for Max. The group looks like they've been told to behave themselves - something you'll thank Kim for later - and you look around you only to notice that he hasn't sat down yet. "Max?"

"Hello." Max nods to everyone and bites his lip. "Do you mind if I join you?" It's important that he doesn't insert himself where he's not wanted. Something that he would do too often in his bid for respectability and investments.

"You're more than welcome," Kim insists, waving her hand at the chair on your other side. Everybody had agreed to play nice tonight for your sake. Generally speaking you're just too nice for your own good, and most of your extended work-friend group is curious. "Food here is great. I don't know if our girl told you or not on the way over."

Our girl. Max smiles politely and sits. "She has told me about the margaritas and the flatbread pizzas." He nods and looks around at everyone and wonders what they really think about him being here. "So I believe I will like it."

"Let me guess," Kim hums, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "Margarita tower?" "Of course." It's kind of your go-to anytime you have someone to share it with, and you stretch out with a happy grin at the table. "Max needs a rest from the world of juice boxes and cheese pizza."

"You have a child?" Jennifer asks curiously. "I didn't know that."

"His son's an angel." You offer, smiling at Max, who looks uncomfortable again. "He's my cat's new favorite playmate."

“Alistair is eight.” Max tells them. “The best son anyone could ask for. Sweet and kind, loving.” All traits that Max needed to improve on as an adult, but Alistair’s faith in him, your faith in him, kept him pushing forward.

“Eight is such a good age.” Gretchen goes a little dreamy. Everyone knows her kids are hell on wheels now that they’re teenagers, and she misses when they were little. “Curiosity is at a premium at that age. They’re like little sponges. And so sweet. Oh you’re so lucky.”

"Very lucky." Max can wholeheartedly agree with that. "We have been exploring the museums on the weekends and he asks so many questions that the tour guides don't know." It makes him regret not taking him to more museums while they were in D.C., but he is enjoying the outings with his son and is proud of his curiosity.

“Does he have a library card yet?” She asks, obviously enjoying memories of that age. “My youngest loved the themed story hours until she was eleven or twelve.”

“He doesn’t, but I should get him one.” Max tilts his head in interest. “He loves to read and watch movies.”

“It’s worth it.” Gretchen promises with a smile, and she picks up her menu. “No matter where you are in the city, you can always find a branch.”

“Thank you.” Max replies sincerely. “I will take him to get a card this weekend. We are planning on picnicking in Central Park.” He chuckles. “Which, to Alistair, means pizza at the park.”

“Central Park and the library sounds like a perfect day.” It twists your heart a little - the number of times you’ve thought about what would have happened if you have been brave enough to tell Max how you felt years ago. If Alistair would be your little boy instead of someone else’s. The result has been that you soak up every minute of time that Max’s son is willing to spend with you.

“Would you like to come with us?” Mac is always happy to have you with him. You make the even brighter with your company, just like when you were in high school.

"I'd love to." There's no hesitation for you. No question or even need to consider. Any chance you get to spend with Max, you're going to take it. "You guys have been spending a lot of time together, huh?" Kim asks, amusement twitching in the corner of her mouth. She had thought that you were acting a little defensive earlier because of some unrequited thing, but now she thinks you might just be oblivious to how requited it could be. Not that she would ever get mixed up with a guy like Max Lord, but you seem to have a unique history with the guy.

“She has been very kind to us.” Max is careful to not sully your reputation with telling them how most evenings are spent together and you’ve taught him to make more than mac and cheese with hot dogs for dinner. “New York is very different from D.C. and we are grateful to have someone who knows the area like she does.”

"Rekindling the old friendship, right?" It's a little bit of prodding, sure, but she's also trying to peel away at that Maxwell Lord veneer that they all saw on tv for so long and make him a real person to your other friends.

“I was very lucky to have her as my friend.” Max admits, looking down at his hands shyly. “Believe it or not, I was not well liked when I was younger.” He chuckles at how true that still was, although that was because of his mistakes rather than his misfortune of being poor or an immigrant.

"Neither of us was," you amend, not wanting him to feel singled out by that fact. "If not for Max, I wouldn't have survived senior year. And I definitely wouldn't have gone to college."

“That was a long night.” He remembers, smiling slightly at the memory. “But your admission papers were perfect.” He had sent them off like he had promised and you had been accepted to all of them, with scholarships.

"My mother was furious." A fact which makes you giggle now, so many years later. "Until it became a bragging point. She found out that one of the colleges I applied to was all women, and suddenly I was making a modest, pious choice to educate myself to be a good wife." You roll your eyes heavily, knowing that your years at Sarah Lawrence had radicalized you in ways that your mother could never have dreamed of. "Imagine her disappointment when I went and got a career after college instead of a husband."

“She should be proud of you.” Max shakes his head, still unable to believe what your mother had put you through. “I was. I am. You are in a prestigious position and working on becoming a published author.”

"All thanks to you, it sounds like." Kim is actually smiling, and Gretchen's expression has turned from curious to fond. "You know, this is the most we've ever been able to get her to open up about the old days. Normally she just glosses over any hometown or family questions."

“Oh.” He tosses you a look, hoping that he has not overstepped. “Life was not great for us, but we managed together and we had fun. Prom was possibly the best night of my life until the day Alistair was born.”

"Did you go to prom together?" Gretchen looks like she might melt at that, while Brad and Dan are clearly regretting that there isn't something less girly to talk about.

“Yeah.” Max nods and grins slightly. “It was a good night. We had fun and I still have the pictures we took.”

"You still have those?" Somehow you hadn't expected that, and it makes you light up and soften at the same time. "My mother got rid of my copies...along with pretty much everything else."

“She was always a…difficult woman.” Max sighs. “Genji made sure that she kept them when we divorced but returned all my stuff when we moved to New York.”

"Sounds like your ex-wife and my mother would have gotten along well," you grumble sympathetically when the waitress appears to take your drink orders.

Max defers to you, letting you order first and adding a glass of water in addition to the margarita tower.

Several beers, Gretchen's Long Island Iced Tea, and Kim's white wine selection later, you're all engrossed in looking through food options. The reason you like this place that is it's easy to blend into the background and still get decent service. Yours isn't the only office that empties into this building on a Friday night, and a group of tables nearby is taken up by some folks from a nearby marketing firm that you recognize as fellow regulars. It's just a cordial, relaxed atmosphere that is more than welcome after a long work week.

“They have a lot of options.” Max hums as he looks through the menu. “Have you had anything other than the flatbreads?”

"Not much," you admit with a guilty grin. "Do you want to try something else? I don't mind broadening my horizons a little."

“We could always get the appetizer thing.” He points to a sampler. “And your flatbread. Splitting it and trying more things?”

"If that's what sounds good to you, I'm in." He could suggest almost anything and you would go along with it, so this is barely a compromise. All you want is for him to enjoy himself tonight.

He nods, smiling at you and relaxing slightly. No one has been rude yet and it feels almost like the old days, although he’s still slightly upset he never realized that you were into women.

It's a comfortable evening, with people loosening up after some drinks and food. Brad drags Jennifer away from her seat to dance at one point, even though this is definitely a bar that does not have a dance floor. It's warm and comfortable and there is something extra in the air tonight that is probably just the margaritas talking, but it has you smiling and laughing even more than usual.

As the evening goes on, Max relaxed a little more. Somehow the buttons of his polo pop open and he leans back and ruffles his hand through his hair as the alcohol mellows him out. Sticking close to you and to Kim, he has tried to figure out the dynamic and it’s driving him crazy. He wants to be a good friend and be supportive of you, but he also wishes that he had taken that chance so many years ago and kissed you when it seemed like the right moment for it.

You're just too good to be true...can't take my eyes off of you...you'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much... Frankie Valli croons through the speakers in the bar, making your head jump up and your eyes snap over to Max. Like the memory of senior prom wasn't enough, that song throws you back in time harder than a slingshot.

******

Max tries to suppress his nerves, praying his hands aren’t sweaty as he guides you through the song. It’s romantic and one that he’s heard before, making him think of you. At long last love has arrived….And I thank God I'm alive “Are you having a good time?” He asks, desperately hopeful that you don’t hate the night with him.

"Of course I am." You're here with him, there's nothing realistic that you could think of to make it better. Realistic being the key. Those little daydreams you've had about going out to Lover's Lane with him or cuddling up under the stars? Those are just fantasies. "A--are you?"

“I am.” He nods and smiles at you. “Your dress is the prettiest one here.” You had taken his breath away and he was grateful that the corsage matched and his suit complimented it.

"Do you think so?" The pattern is a little old fashioned probably, but you love it. the flowers that you had carefully embroidered for embellishment and the few crystals that you managed to get your hands on had made you hopeful that he would like it, but your mother had scoffed that boys don't care what dress you wear. After that, even though you had finished the dress, you had been a little less giddy about it.

“It is beautiful. I cannot believe that you made it yourself.” He smiles and reaches up from your back to rub the edge of your shoulder strap. “If you wanted to, you could be a very accomplished seamstress.”

"Maybe I'll just make my own dresses." You beam at him, unable to contain how hard you're smiling at such a compliment. "Dinner dresses to go out in. Or even my wedding dress one day."

“It would be breathtaking.” His heart pounds in his chest thinking about your wedding day. Painfully wishing that he was the lucky man who got to meet you in front of the priest.

"Not that...that I think that will happen any time soon." Mostly because you can't picture the day at all with anyone but him, and he doesn't seem to like you that way. Even all through the nice dinner he took you to before the dance tonight, he hadn't tried to hold your hand or anything. Which is okay. It's not like you don't know that boys don't like you. But you're trying not to lose hope before the night is over.

“No, you must get through college first.” Max insists seriously. “It is important that you establish your dreams first.” Max decides that he will become wealthy before he asks you out, not wishing for you to pity him. He had been so nervous tonight he couldn’t form the words to ask you to the movies, even though he wanted to.

"I've been waiting for the right time to tell you." Deciding that this is it - this moment, this dance, this song, you are absolutely beaming at him. "I spoke with the financial department at Sarah Lawrence yesterday. They're actually going to give me enough scholarships and grants that I can manage it."

“What?” Max gasps, lighting up. “That’s great.” He lunges forward to hug you tightly, excited that you were getting to have your dream despite your mother trying to sabotage you.

“It’s all thanks to you.” You hug him back tightly, nearly giggling with excitement. “I never could have gotten it all done alone.”

"You could have." He protests, but he beams at your praise. "We will both have our college degrees in no time and I will know a famous publisher and you will know a powerful businessman."

Know. You will know each other. Nothing more. You try so hard not to let your smile dim and end up clinging to him a little harder. If you weren't so terrified of losing him altogether then you wouldn't care what the other girls said. You could live with being considered 'fast' for kissing him first if you were just brave enough.

You seem so happy by the prospect, he bites his lip and wonders if he imagines that you sometimes look at him like you want to kiss him. Perhaps it is just his own wants projecting onto you, he has a habit of doing that, but he cannot help it with you. If he had one person in the world to save, it would be you. Whispering your name, he gathers the shreds of his courage and presses slightly closer to you.

For a second you can't tell if it's your imagination or if the world really has stopped moving around you. Your vision has narrowed down to just him and he's filled your other senses -- but when does he not? When do you ever think of anyone in the whole world before Max? Sometimes you could swear he thinks of you as more than just a friend, and right now his hands grasping you a little tighter has your heart jumping directly into your throat as it starts to beat wildly out of control.

Staring into your eyes, Max wets his lips, finding them suddenly dry and chapped. He doesn't want your (hopefully) first kiss to be dry. He swallows again and decides to go for it. His fingers flex on your hip and his eyes drop down to your lips as he leans in more. "Ladies and gentleman! It is time to crown our prom King and Queen!"

The sheer volume of the announcement has you both jumping out of your skins, startling apart from each other like a cartoon and breaking the moment. You could have sworn that he was inching closer to you. He looked like he was going to kiss you. And now you've completely lost it.

Max's heart sinks down to his toes and he gives you a small smile before the two of you turn towards the stage. Cursing himself for not being fast enough, the moment is gone and with it, his courage.

******

“Did you have fun tonight?” Walking from the subway stop to your apartment building, you have your hands once again shoved into your pockets in that long-established custom of keeping yourself from reaching for him. A few margaritas each has you feeling loose and relaxed, but it isn’t like you’re not in control of yourself.

"It was really fun." Max sounds bewildered, as if he was surprised that having drinks with your co-workers, his co-workers could be a pleasant time. "I see why you like her." He still feels bad that he hadn't noticed it before, but he's trying to be there for you.

"Bars are girls?" You ask him, wondering why he gave a building a pronoun. Maybe it's one of those weird things like how cars and ships are female somehow.

"Nooooooo." He manages to giggle slightly, fully feeling the effects of the alcohol now. "Not the bar." He snorts and nearly trips over a piece of the sidewalk that has lifted up and he stumbles forward before straightening and looking down in bewilderment. "Kim."

"Did you not like her before tonight?" If he had disliked her you hadn't noticed, and that makes you feel a bit silly. But the silly might also be the couple of margaritas you had.

"No, I like her." He shakes his head, not willing to let you think he doesn't like your crush. "I think that she's nice. I see why you like her." He stresses. "I'm jealous."

"Why are you jealous?" That makes you frown very deeply, and your nose wrinkles. "She's just my friend." Not your best friend, or anything more -- like you've always considered him to be.

"I can't help it." Max hangs his head and his shoulders round slightly. "I will get past it. Support you."

"Stop." At the front door of your walk up, you swing around in front of him and put both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stand a little bit taller and actually look at you. "What are you talking about? Support me how?"

"By being happy for you." He frowns and motions towards you like it should be obvious.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Your head drops and shakes animatedly, a pout turning down the points of your lips. "I'm fine, I guess? But I'm not...happy happy."

"Because you have not told her." Max nods, understanding and reaches out and takes your hand. "You must, otherwise you will live with regret. Like I do."

He isn't making any sense, but his large hand covering yours is warm and making you fuzzier than even the tequila had. "I should tell Kim that she's my friend?" You ask, trying to understand him. "She knows that already."

"No." Max winces and shakes his head. "You should tell her that...." he closes his eyes, in pain for the lost chance, or maybe the chance that never was. His unrequited heart aching. "That you love her." He whispers.

The swirling confusion that started at your toes and went all the way up to fogging your brain stops dead, and all of a sudden you're standing up - stone sober - in front of Max with a clarity that makes you feel more foolish than you ever have in your life. More foolish than the first time you ever met a lesbian, way back in college. "But..." you look at him with resignation in you somewhere. "I don't. I mean she's my friend and I love her platonically but...did you think I was gay this whole time?"

"You shouldn't have to hide it." Max swallows and opens his eyes. "I figured it out, it- it hurts because I know that my feelings would never be returned, and I wondered if I imagined the times you looked like you wished- it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I am your friend and I will be here for you. Be your friend, no matter if I am jealous."

If the last revelation hadn't instantly sobered you, this one certainly would. You're practically gawking at him in the middle of the sidewalk as people move around you in all directions. "What feelings?" You insist - demand - feeling your heart strangle in your chest so tightly it could rip into pieces.

His shoulders round again and he sends you a look that is a mixture of humiliation, apology and heartache. "Please don't- I had tried so hard to move on from you in college, to pretend that it didn't matter that you would never date poor Max." He chokes out. "You- you have been exactly like you were in high school, of course my infatuation with you came back."

"Is this some kind of joke?" You never thought that Max would be cruel enough to pull a practical joke this personal on you, but your hands retract and you cross them over your chest like a very poor set of armor. "If it is, it's mean, and I never thought you were mean. But pretending you had a crush on me when I've spent my entire life in love with you is just cruel."

Max frowns, unsure of what you mean when he has just told you his feelings, but he swallows harshly. "I- I didn't- I'm sorry." He gulps, having completely missed your confession of love. "I know you don't - it's - I can't help it. You have always been the girl I wish I kissed that night at prom." He murmurs quietly, shoulders slumping even more and he turns to walk away, sure that you want nothing to do with him now.

It's too much to process and yet your mind gets through it at lightning speed. Fast enough with your reflexes to throw yourself through the other door of your apartment building and end up in front of him, your body is reacting a lot faster than you can even tell it to. He's barely inside the lobby before you're in front of him, and both of your hands hit his chest at the exact same time. Grasping the collar of his shirt to bring him down to you, this is the moment of boldness that all missed opportunities has been building to. If you miss this, you miss everything. And unlike prom, there is no dj to interrupt you this time when you pull him down to you and press your lips to his.

The alcohol and the melancholy fade instantly and his eyes widen, his groan of surprise loud against your lips but he doesn't pull away. He can't. Not when he has you pressed up against him and kissing him. His arms snake around your body and he pulls you close, deepening the kiss and feeling you melt against him.

It seems completely impossible for this to be happening, but he has deepened the kiss instead of pushing you away, letting you slide your tongue along the seam of his lips and inviting you inside the map the contours of his mouth the way you've dreamt of ten thousand times. Your hands clutch each other inelegantly, holding on for dear life, but you don't care how awkward it looks from the outside - you've been waiting for this moment for more than twenty years.

All he can think of is you. How you sound, how you taste. So much better than his imagination twenty years ago and even just today. Unable to believe that this is real as he fulfills a fantasy he never thought he would get to have.

In true city-life fashion, what breaks you apart is not a lack of enthusiasm, but the grumbling of a loud neighbor who shouts, "Get a room!" As he storms out the front door with his arms thrown up in disgust, as though two people kissing is the most offensive thing he has seen in his entire life.

Max flushes and looks back at you, wondering how you feel about the kiss that was just shared and his heart is pounding in his chest. “I- what was that?” He asks, unable to stop the goofy grin from spreading across his face.

"It's what I wish I had done in high school," you admit, the adrenaline making your heart beat wildly in your ears as you seem to vibrate in place. "What I wish I had done every single day. I was scared my whole life, Max. But then I finally said it and you didn't hear me and that scared me more than anything else in the world. That I could have told you and you still didn't know."

“You- you like me?” He asks dumbly, shaking his head and points to himself. “Me?”

"Yes, you." But since Max has had as terrible a time believing in his own self-worth as you have, there is no bite to your insistence. "Since well before senior year, if I'm honest. But courage isn't my strong suit."

“I- you don’t like Kim?” He frowns in confusion and closes his eyes. “Me. You like me. You’ve liked me.” He repeats softly. “Why?”

"Because...even though we were different we had important things in common. We had a whole town and our own families telling us to give up on our dreams and we worked our way up from the dirt. Both of us. You're...you're so smart, Max. And so much sweeter than you have ever given yourself credit for. And unbearably handsome, even when we were teenagers and everyone was some kind of gawky and awkward. You just...you made me want to be a better, stronger person." You shrug slightly, suddenly feeling self-conscious all over again, and shove your hands back in your pockets. "I always thought if I learned enough about the world and showed you I could be as smart as you that you might...you might think I could be more than just your friend. But when you came home from college you would always tell me about other girls and I just...I figured that if I had ever had a chance, I lost it on prom night."

“I didn’t think I had a chance.” Max admits quietly. “Believe me, I wanted you. You were just always way too good for me.” He shrugs his shoulders and shoves his own hands in his pockets. “I was lying about the girls. No one was talking to me. Not until Genji. I was trying to impress you, but you just seemed to be okay with it, so I thought you were just my friend.”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” you murmur, wishing you had been better at seeing the signs or braver about asserting your own desire. “Even if it was with someone else…even if it broke my heart.”

“I wish I had told you how I felt. Alistair could have been ours together. But I would not have wanted you to leave me like Genji.” Max murmurs.

“I wouldn’t have left.” He may not believe you, but it’s true. Some people would probably call you blind with devotion. Maybe it is? Who knows. “When you were up there…Doing your broadcast?” The breath you let out is shaky at best. “I just kept wishing you could hear me. That that might make a difference to you somehow…I guess it didn’t work.”

Max frowns slightly and tilts his head. “What was I supposed to hear? There was one voice in my head that kept telling me to be happy.”

“To remember your happiness?” You look up at him with such hope that it is almost too much, but you can’t help it. “Maybe it was conceited of me. Or desperate. I just wanted you to remember that people love you as you are.”

“To remember my happiness.” Max nods. The influx of emotions and wishes were much more than he had anticipated and it seemed to jumble together at one point but that voice stood out. “That is...something I am working on.” He admits quietly.

"If that isn't me...or you don't want to..." Looking around reminds you that you are very much in public still and you press your lips together nervously. "Maybe we should talk about this upstairs?"

“Upstairs. Yes, upstairs.” He glances around and flushes slightly. “We should talk upstairs. And I can let Señora go home. Alistair should be asleep.”

When you make it up to his apartment, Señora Ramos is watching a movie on tv without a care in the world. Alistair apparently tired himself out reading an hour ago and all has been quiet since.

“So-“ as soon as the door closes behind Señora Ramos, Max is nervous and claps his hands together. Feeling vulnerable now that you know everything. “Do you….want….” He looks around. “A drink! Do you want a drink?”

“Maybe just water.” After the amount you both had earlier, and what you have to talk about, you want a chance to clear your head.

“Water is good.” He agrees, bobbling his head and rushing towards the small, galley style kitchen that he was lucky to have. Some apartments didn’t even have a kitchen.

“Max…” Leaning against the counter, you take down two glasses and slide them over to him. “You don’t have anything to be nervous about.”

“Sure I do.” Max snorts, opening the freezer to grab the ice tray. “It’s not like you tell the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were twelve that you thought she was a lesbian.”

“I’m still wondering why you thought that.” Mostly out of curiosity, of course. Though the news that he’s liked you as long as you’ve liked him is both satisfying and a little bittersweet. You could have had something so long ago if just one of you had been brave.

“You said that Kim is the person that you most enjoyed, you never talk about any men, now or back in school.” He shrugs, mildly embarrassed. “I know that people have been….more open….than they were back when we were close. Maybe…I don’t know, maybe I thought it made sense.”

“I never talked about boys I liked to you because I’ve always liked you.” It isn’t exactly an easy thing to admit to him, but the cat is very much out of the bag at this point. “Kim has been my closest friend for a long time. I absolutely adore her. But my love for her isn’t romantic. She’s like the sister I never had.”

"I am foolish." Max hangs his head and sighs. "I am sorry." He murmurs quietly.

“Please don’t be.” Stepping cautiously closer to him in his little kitchen, you take the glass of water he hands you and have a sip. “If you hadn’t thought so, you might not have said anything. And then we never would have come clean.”

He hadn't looked at it that way and he bites his lip as he watches you. "What do you want?" He asks softly, still irrationally fearful of rejection, but also hopeful.

It’s a vague question, but the context is so specific. Specific enough that you are shocked he feels the need to ask, but grateful that he isn’t simply assuming. “Ideally?” You ask, and wait for him to nod shyly. “I want what I’ve always wanted. To be with you. But I understand if that’s too much to ask.”

"I- you know that people hate me, no?" He asks, scrunching up his brows. "Mi amor, it would be hell to be with me. Are you sure that is what you want?"

It isn’t a trick question, but you put down your water after another sip and hoist yourself up to sitting on the edge of the counter. “I want you to respect me. To love me and treat me well, and listen to my day regardless of whether it was good or bad. I want you to trust me and talk to me and confide in me and be silly with me. I don’t give a damn what anybody else thinks of you. Be a good partner to me and I’ll be one to you, and that’s all that matters.”

"I do respect you." He promises. "I wasn't a good partner, not to Genji, but I want to be one. I will be one for you." He knows that he has made mistakes, but he feels like he won't make them again. His ideas for success have changed and as long as he can take care of his son and provide him with a happy, safe childhood, he will consider himself blessed.

"Then that's all I need to know." The shy smile on your lips tips up the corners of your mouth and you shrug guiltily. "Almost all." You admit when he gives you an incredulous look. "I also kinda want to know if you meant it when you called me amor a second ago..."

His eyes widen when he realizes his slip of the tongue and his tan complexion darkens further as he flushes in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say it, but it was something that he thought often. "Yes." He admits quietly, but his shoulders don't round. "I did."

“Then that’s all I need to know.” You know your cheeks are burning but you truly don’t care. This is more than half a lifetime of pining coming to a head right now and you are so unbelievably touched that you aren’t the only one that has held onto the flame this long. It makes it special in a very unconventional way - as if you were being rewarded somehow.

He doesn't quite understand what you might be thinking but he nods. "Yes." He murmurs, wondering what he could say right now that would be interesting and flirty.

“So…” You shift slightly on the counter and tilt your head at him. “Are you sure you want to be with me, then?”

Max has had to bluff his way through many meetings, promising things that he couldn’t give the men who wanted to invest with him, or were thinking of investing with him. He doesn’t use that smarmy, painted on charm to reassure you. This time, it’s his own thin courage that has him stepping closer and reaching out to hold onto your waist as he steps closer again. “Yes.” His voice breaks softly from how low it dips. His lips curving up slightly. “Very sure.”

"Better late than never, right?" The warmth of his hands seeps through your clothes, waking up every inch of your skin and making you sit up a little straighter as he comes closer. That little smile of his is contagious.

“Only a lifetime of regret and enough stories to fill a book.” Max snorts.

"Some things are good enough to slog through all the hell for," you remind him softly. "It gave you Alistair."

“It brought me back to you. As well.” He reminds you, smiling at the thought. “But I want to do something else right now.”

"Oh you do, do you?" There is a distinctly boyish - maybe even mischievous - expression on his face that you've never seen before and it works for him. "What would that be?"

“I want to kiss you.” He admits, leaning in and his eyes flicker to yours. “Can I kiss you?” You had kissed him before, so he wants to do this.

It's beyond you to not be excited about it, even more than a little giddy as you nod and let your legs naturally slide apart to make a place for him to stand between them at the counter. "As much as you want."

He steps forward again, this time fitting himself in the space you allocated for him and leans in more, pressing the evidence of his desire against your belly as he cups your cheek and drops his lips onto yours.

The first press is soft but sure, and you almost startle feeling him press so obviously against you, but it is delicious. Instead of drawing away or jumping back or politely pretending not to notice, you lean in that much more surely and trap his hard on between both of your bodies. You may not have soaked through your panties just yet, but the heat rolling off of you is unmistakable. as unmistakable as your enthusiasm for kissing him again.

Groaning, he’s happy you don’t push him away. Instead you’re pulling him closer and his arms are wrapping around you to deepen the kiss.

Your knees bracket his hips, holding him tight against you and letting yourselves get lost in the moment. It's slower this time, deepening less frantically but no less ardently. Twenty years of wanting from both of you is being poured into this moment and you'll be damned if you're going to rush it.

He doesn’t try to push this beyond a kiss, although he aches to. He has no idea how long he leans into you, making out with you as if you are teenagers again.

No one could accuse either of you of a lack of enthusiasm. If you had not already been sitting on this counter you might have swept everything off of it just to get him to sit you here, enjoying what easy access you have to all of the most important parts of him. Access that - despite the fact that you have absolutely soaked through your panties and probably your pants as well - you don't know if you should be taking. Pulling yourself back from the edge of control and catching your breath is tricky, but you focus your eyes on him and feel your heart skip that all-important beat. "Max..." As much as you want to whine, your voice pitches down to be soft and rasping. "Is it too fast to ask if I can touch you?"

He’s conflicted. Not because he thinks it’s too fast, but he’s still coming to terms with the idea you want him. “You-“ he clears his throat when his voice breaks again. “You can do whatever you want to me.” He answers honestly.

"Then we should not stay in this kitchen." The grin you flash him is mischievous but oh so promising, and your hands slide up his shoulders to let your fingers just touch the trim edge of his hair. "Take me to bed, Max."

______

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soulc-hilde · 6 months ago

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Ch. 02 - No Good Fridays

A/N: Even though the gif would've been perfect for the first chapter seeing as this happened in episode 1, I'll still use it because Jeremy's face is just perfect!

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x Black!OFC

Warning(s): Follows the FX tv show, Shameless, viewer discretion be advised. Depictions of grooming as well as non-consensual acts being mentioned, depictions and ideations of suicide, depictions of drug and alcohol abuse, racial and homophobic slurs, mentions of CPS/CYS and foster care, depictions and mentions of consensual sexual acts, depictions of violence (gun and maybe gang), depictions of mental health, depictions of inherited addiction, and so much fucking more.

Synopsis: All Lip Gallagher ever had was family and despite the praise over his intellect, the health and wellbeing of his people were far more important than him furthering his education. Lecroy was a young girl destined to face abandonment until the Gallagher clan came through. Using her own skillset and connects to build a better life for those she loves, she ties Lip and his family to her hip.

Two of the greatest events in television history will broadcast tonight. One - The UFC pay-per-view and two - The Deadliest Catch Season Finale. Such a big event, that Frank went as far as trying to tie his soiled hair in a ponytail before meeting his little friends at the Alibi. Behind him, two cars pull in at the same time. Steve and Ian jump out the black BMW coupe with bags in their hands while Lecroy follows suit.

As the crew began to set up before the show, Lecroy's once relaxed posture turns fridged at the sight of Karen in the living room with Lip. Rather than greeting the boy, she walks past him and into the kitchen with Ian and Steve to grab the food.

"Burgers comin' through," Ian sings, leaving the kitchen. Fiona turns over her shoulder, "uh, Lip, napkins." Karen takes a step forward, "I can do it," but Lip was already ahead of her. "I got it," he shakes his head.

Fiona raises an interested eyebrow, studying the interaction. Wanting to test a theory, she watches as he goes for the kitchen as well, passing the only - other - positive woman in his life. "Hey, Peaches," he greets with a small smile.

However, he receives a rushed head nod and nothing else. Both of Fiona's eyebrows raise as she bites her bottom lip. Oh, great, a pissed off Murphy and a possibly puppy-eyed Lip, the eldest Gallagher huffs to herself.

"Only ketchup," Steve reads off the order. Debbie raises her hand, "me!" He then reads off the next one, "extra onions, jalapenos." V opens the front door, taking it, "me."

She climbs over the couch, landing beside Fiona just as Carl makes his way over. He tries to grab at her cookies only for her to pull it back, "uh-aht-aht, after you finish your shake and fries."

He sits back with a slight pout. Lecroy laughs, patting the back of his head softly before sitting him in her lap on the couch. "It's okay," she whispers, "I'll get you your cookies, bubba."

He now smiles, happily diving into his sandwich. V turns, catching sight of the unfamiliar blonde in her peripheral, "who's this?" Lip answers, coming back with napkins, "this is Karen."

"Hey, Karen. Nice top," V greets her, "what size are you?" Fiona cuts in, waving her hand, "shh! Shut up." As the narrator of the show begins to talk, Lecroy softly nudges V with her elbow.

The two meet eyes as the copper haired teen bounces her eyebrows before rolling her eyes. V's mouth drops, mouthing an understanding, "oh." In other words, Lecroy reminded the woman that Karen was the blonde neighborly pass around who not only is stealing her best friend, but is just an all round nuisance.

After watching maybe like... 2-3 minutes in? A bloody, pouting drunk Frank returns to the house, slamming the front door closed. Everyone turns, watching him with humor and wonder; mostly wondering who out of every Southside resident had the urge to rightfully punch him.

"You okay, Frank?" Steve asks, face scrunching with sympathy. Lecroy, on the other hand, snickers to herself. "Hey," Ian starts, eyes noticing something strange on his deadbeat father. He follows after the man from his seat. "That my shirt?"

At the question, the boy's father stops and turns in silence. On guard, Lecroy carefully sits Carl between herself and V in case she'd have to launch at the man. "Yeah," Frank nods, stepping towards Ian.

His son slowly steps back, shaking his head, "uh, I'm just asking." Frank nods, forcing his forehead down onto Ian's nose with enough force that the teen flies and lands on the table. Everyone jumps, screaming as Fiona begins asking Ian if he was okay.

"Guy in the bar said to pass it on," Frank explains. Immediately, Lecroy pounces at the father.

Sending a right hook at his trachea, the older man collapses to his knees as he fights for oxygen. Clasping onto his throat, wheezing, his eyes widen with delay as her denim clad knee jabs into his glabella. His body falls back without resistance, comparable to a ragdoll.

Steve and Fiona's eyes widen as they try to pull her away from him. Steve's arms wrap under her arms as he tries to lift her away. Fiona calls out, urgently, "wait, no, don't--" but it was too late. Lecroy's elbow forces down into the man's ribs eliciting a gasp, edging on a whimper, to escape.

"She's so strong," he winces, holding his sides. Keeping face, he turns to glare at the drunkard. "You don't do this to your kids, Frank," he grits his teeth. "What are you, a tough guy, Steve? You think you're a fucking tough guy?" Frank teases.

He steps forward, "because you look like a premenstrual Filipino." He points at a glaring Lecroy who stood beside a wincing Ian. "If anyone's tough, it's that baboon bitch--"

Without hesitating, the girl picks up the tray of milkshakes and hurls it at him. He stubbles back, slightly hissing at the sting, glaring toward the teen.

"What the fuck, Frank?!" Lip belts in outrage, happily watching her mop the floor with him. "What the hell did he just call her?!" V shouts, pushing Carl to hide behind her back.

"You wanna come at me, Babygirl," he teases, "then let's go. Let's see how long you'd sit in Juvie this time. Even better, that might put ya in the loony bin."

She forces him against the wall, gripping him by the collar. Repeatedly, she forces him against it until Steve forces her off without getting hit again. Fiona hops in front of the girl, bending down in hopes catching her eye would settle the teen.

The older woman's eyes water at the dark, dead eyes that seem to stare through her. "C'mon, Le," Fiona quietly pleads, "calm down. He's not worth it, okay? Not again."

She pulls her into her chest, hugging her tightly, "go upstairs and calm down, a'ight. It's okay, it's okay." Feeling her shoulders slacken, Fiona slowly turns her to the steps, not allowing Frank to fall in her sight.

As the teen shuffles up the stairs, silent, like a zombie, Fiona turns to the others. Steve puffs his chest, ready to swing on Frank, but she quickly pushes him back and gets between the two. "Steve, go. Get out. Hey, just go!" She orders.

"Please," she pleads, she points at the door as Debbie softly shows him out with a skillet still in hand. "Come on," Franks yells, "don't go. Come on. Puss, puss, puss."

On the table with napkins trying to stop the bleeding, Ian chokes on some blood that slips down his throat. "Ice," V orders. Frank brushes his hair back, "it's a bloody nose. He's not dyin'."

"Shut the fuck up, Frank," V grits, her mind overworked and exhausted as it bounced from Ian being hit by his own father to the man egging on a 16-year-old with explosive anger.

He goes to walk away before turning to them, "anybody notice that I'm bleedin'?" Ian waves away everyone's hands, marching up the stairs, "I got it. Where's Croy?" Lip follows after him, the brothers now in search of the manic girl.

Lodged in the boys' bedroom, Lecroy sat on Ian's bed with a lit blunt hanging from between her lips. Instead of actively inhaling and exhaling the substance, she simply partook in allowing the smoke to swirl inside her body with every passive breath in and shooting out of her nostrils with every breath out.

Her onyx eyes take a pitch of black that gives her a soulless appearance in the nearly dark room. They stare at the floor with a blank glare, not a thought emerging behind those pretty eyes. Lip and Ian, hell anyone who's a part of the Gallagher's close circle, was no stranger to Lecroy's bursts of rage.

It was as if she was her own Hulk, but without the heroic music playing in the background. She could threaten to tear a building from the inside out and mean it, enjoying the pain that licked at her skin with every hit. To the Gallaghers' it was a part of who she was, who they knew Lecroy to be. In her family, however, this was an unspoken of reality for them; a curse, as her grandmother would put it.

Each Gallagher teen takes a seat on her sides. Lip gently pulls the blunt from her lips, inhaling some for himself as Ian changed shirts. "You should've hi'im' back," Lip opens the conversation.

Ian looks down at him, "if I ever do, I'll fucking kill him." The blip of anger seeps between his teeth as he forces the clean shirt over his head. He nods to the blanked out girl between them. "Besides, Le was ahead on that mission," he scoffs, humorlessly.

"So?" Lip shrugs, "eight to ten for manslaughter. Get laid as often as you want. Tattoos and everything. It's gay heaven, man." Rather than respond, Ian takes his seat beside Lecroy, blotting at the blood on his face.

He takes the offered blunt before passing it back. Feeling her bones come to a settle from the enraged shaking underneath her skin, the girl begins to slowly blink as she comes to reality. Noticing the loss of weed in her lungs, she grabs the blunt from Ian's fingers and places it between her lips.

Lip, who waited his turn in the session, softly smiles and lands a quick peck on the girl's temple. The three musketeers, as always, had won another battle against the world. Rather than going home, she stayed the night at the Gallaghers.

In the morning, she cooks breakfast while Debbie sets off to steal the neighbor's paper in search for coupons and Ian, with the help of V, steals milk and creamer from Conrad, the local delivery guy for all the corner stores. Basically, a regular Friday.

Plating up the food, it was a simple menu of sunny side eggs with toast and bacon. Setting a plate down for every Gallagher, she received the usual thanks -- one of them being a soft pat on the rear by Lip -- as Ian sat a half gallon of milk on the table.

"Don't forget V's coupons," Debbie states. The boy nods, walking back outside. In the meantime, Fiona comes down with Liam and grabs the mail. Lip helps her set him up in the high chair.

As she sorts through the mail, gratefully taking the cup of coffee Lecroy made for her, Ian comes back inside with V's coupons. He looks at his sister, "any pizza left from last night?"

Both Fiona and Lecroy glare over at him. "No pizza. Fruit or juice," Fiona answers. Lecroy then states, "besides I'm making a whole breakfast. We've got eggs, bacon, and toast. Take it."

The two girls smile at his disgruntled yet satisfied look. "OJ's in the top, grape's in the bottom drawer," she directs. Over at the table, Debbie reads off all the coupons they've received.

"Poptarts, Frosted Flakes, Bisquick, Heinz Ketchup, and ooh-ooh! Even got a couple two-for-ones for Tide," the young auburn girl grins, waving the coupon beside her head.

Leaving the fridge, Ian looks over at her, "any coupons for meat?" She nods, "yeah. They got a special on ground chuck at Costco and Hot Pockets." Fiona chuckles, "great. We'll go tomorrow."

Lecroy sits between Liam and Lip, feeding the toddler some eggs and finely crumbled pieces of bacon. As his pouty lips fumble around the tips of the plastic fork, slowly swallowing the egg, Lip watches the two. He sets a sippy cup filled with milk in front of her. She sends him a small smile before giving it to Liam.

"Lip, you seen Frank?" Fiona asks, after reading the postal stamp on a yellow envelope. The teen pauses, swallowing, "uh, no." She hums, "what day is it?" He answers again with a sigh, "Friday. Why?"

Fiona skips up the stairs, searching for him without an answer. A firm knock rings from the back door, Ian sets down a plate in front of Carl before answering. Lecroy side-eyes the boy as he licks at the yolk, shooting a piece of bacon at his forehead.

He glances up at her, a small frown taking over his face. She sends a mocking one back, "eat your food, not disrupt the masses."

From behind him, Steve walks through with donuts and cups from the local coffee shop. "Mornin' campers," he greets them.

"Whoa, what'chu got?" Lip asks.

"Jelly, plain, and glazed," he sets the stuff down, winking at Lecroy, "I even got you a couple bostons saved."

The girl smiles, "and to think, I was gon'a be mad that you interrupted a healthy breakfast. All's good now." The two laugh as he hands her the cup labeled: 'hot chai latte.'

He leans over, watching as Carl continues to lick at the yolk of his eggs as Lecroy was distracted. Quickly, he takes a piece of bread from his plate, quickly tapping it against the yolk as the boy side-eyes him.

"Bet you hate when that happens," he teases. Ian scoffs in disgust, "they're his tits. It's the only reason he eats eggs."

Lecroy shakes her head, "I've stopped the ranting and just started throwing things at him," she leans over, playfully glaring at the boy, "like a dog."

Debbie's face scrunches in disgust, "he just licked that one." Fiona comes down the stairs, slowing at the sight of Steve. She looks down, noticing the donuts and coffee.

"Oh, great," she sighs. "Le and I've been trying to get them to eat a healthy breakfast." Munching on a boston creme, Lecroy mindlessly waves the older woman off.

"I already chewed him out about it, Fi," she pauses mid-chew and side eyes her, "the bostons are mine."

Steve smirks, gesturing to the table, "I bought all the essential morning food groups: caffeine, sugar, lard," he lands a peck on her lips, leaning back with a content hum.

She pulls him to the side, "I'm sorry about last night." He shakes his head, "never apologize for your parents. Believe me, I don't. So you can let go of that." Flustered, she sends him a quick smile before looking at the group with a confused frown.

"Has anybody seen Dad?" She asks once again. Debbie answers, "he was asleep behind the armchair." Fiona sighs, marching for the chair with the others following with curiosity.

Leaning over the back of the chair, her face scrunches as she snatches at the polyester material. "It's a tent," she acknowledges, turning to the others, "why is there a tent in the living room?"

"Oh, uh, drying it out," Ian confesses, "ROTC training in Wisconsin next week."

Debbie bends down, "I thought it was Dad. I left him a cup of coffee LeLe made this morning." She picks up the cup, "I thought I heard him say thanks."

Fiona leaves without a word, most likely going to V and Kev's for answers. Fiona returns with a final declaration, "I think Dad's missin'." Like clockwork, Lecroy and the Gallaghers start calling across the neighborhood in hopes anyone had seen the drunkard.

"Hey, Ted," Lip speaks into the phone, "yeah. Yeah. Since Michael Jackson died?"

Debbie sits on the landline, "hey, John, it's Debbie. Have you seen Frank since last night?"

Laying on the floor in the doorway of the living room and the kitchen, Lecroy is caught up in her own two conversations on two phones. One being with her mother:

"Yeah, has he been checked in at all since last night? This morning?" She pauses, "nah, ma, everything's fine... somewhat. The old bastard done went Houdini."

And the other being her boss, or dad:

"Baba, I know," she huffs as the man falls into a rant, "yeah, you wouldn't let him in the shop, regardless, I just need to know if you've seen him? I don't care if you drove past his body on the sidewalk, it'll count."

Fiona stations herself on the couch, "since last night, at the Alibi."

Ian sat on a phone as well, "sorry about the door. And the window. y-yeah, so, anyways, I was wondering; have you seen Frank?"

"Hello, has Frank been down at the department say last night or this morning?" V asks the receptionist at the Police station.

All of a sudden the landline from her house is snatched out of the window, the phone whipping from her hands. "Shit!" She yells, leaning out the window to see the phone being roped down the sidewalk.

"What the fuck? Motherfucker," She wonders to herself, rushing out of the Gallagher house. Still on the phone, but now sitting up, Lecroy laughs with a shake of her head.

"That's some ghetto ass shit," her smile drops as muffled voices begin cussing her out on both phones.

Laying back down, she blurts out rushed apologies into both receivers, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! No, 'm not shoutin'a' ye'."

Soon after Kev had roped V back to the house, everyone's phone calls came to a stop. "Anything?" Fiona asks, looking at them. They all shake their heads.

Ian answers, "nobody's seen him since yesterday." Debbie whines, her freckled face falling. Fiona consoles her, "hey, hey, don't worry, Debs. We're gon'a find him, okay?"

Her small body falls into small tremors. From behind, Lecroy plants a gentle peck on her crown, softly rubbing her shoulders. Ian leans over, muttering words of comfort.

Fiona looks at everyone, "we split up. All the regular spots, okay? Go."

Everyone splits up. Lip and Karen go together, much to the Murphy's chagrin. Instead, Ian and herself ventured off in her Jeep, pulling off with a screeching. They travel around the block, searching every nook and cranny the piece of shit could possibly hide in.

Even going as far as whipping open port-a-potties until Ian accidentally showcased a shitting man. Quickly, all three scramble to shut the door before the two redheads run off to their next spot.

Rounding corners of junkyards and even the neighbors' backyards, they began dumpster searching for him. It was a great idea until Lecroy loses her grip and front flips into one of the bins.

She leaps out of the stank container with a cry, trembling in disgust as Ian laughs his ass, falling in the alleyway. The duo steals a tarp and tucks it over the driver's seat before returning home. However, things weren't much better there.

Pulling in front of V and Kev's place, they walk in, eyes lighting up at the sight of Fiona and Steve. Stepping deeper in the room, they falter at the sight of Veronica ironing a shirt while topless for the webcam.

Ian smiles at the ridiculous scenery, "hey, V."

The woman's portrayal of some sort of sexy housewife doesn't falter as she greets him back, "hey, Ian."

Lecroy, on the other hand, couldn't snatch her eyes off of the woman's breast, blinking with a deadpan. "God, I love women," she mutters shamelessly.

"Um, sorry, Fiona," Ian changes the subject, "Debbie needs you. It's bad." Lecroy nods, jaw clenching as her focus falls back onto what brought them in the first place.

Back in the Gallagher house, a panicking Debbie sobs as she's surrounded by everyone. "Again, Debbie," Fiona speaks. The girl fumbles across her words, sounding as if she was singing hymns.

"Uh, Holly thought she saw a body under the tracks on Halsted," Ian explains. Fiona looks at him in shock, "what?" Steve denies the false tale, "it's not him, Debs, or the police would've contacted us by now."

Lecroy pats her head gently, "besides, it's Holly, honey. She's been in the third grade for four years." Fiona nearly growls, "I'm gonna deck that little bitch."

The Murphy girl shakes her head, "let me do it. I got a pre-buried hole in my backyard anyways." For a second, Steve pauses and glances at the teen with concern before looking back at Debbie.

"Does that even make sense, Debbie?" He asks, bending in front of her. "Why would your dad be in Halsted when he lives in the opposite direction?"

Lip steps in from behind, "well, depends. How was he lookin' when you, uh, left him at the Alibi Room last night, Steve?" He stands up, called out as Fiona follows. "When?" She asks.

"Uh," the man stammers, "ten? Ten thirty. Went to apologize, bought him a drink, then went home." He begins to light a cigarette, trying to appear collected under the lie.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Fiona asks. The front door opens as Kev walks in, "hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" The elder Gallagher steps toward him to the side.

"They found a body under the L," he says.

Once again, the family races off to the tracks, their hearts pounding against their chests in hopes that the body wasn't their father. Sliding to a stop at the circle of officers, Fiona speaks first.

"Do you know who that is?" She pants. "Stay back, okay? Stay back," the officer orders rather than answering her question.

They watch, silently as the coroner studies the body before flipping it over to reveal some homeless man who was very obviously not Frank. Veronica and the kids squeal with cheer while Lip and the others puff out a sigh of relief.

Wiping his hands down his face, the cyan eyed boy takes a hold of Lecroy's left hand, squeezing it into his chest. She looks at him, gifting a small smile, nodding. It's okay, she mouths to him. He simply returns with a smile, looking at the younger Gallaghers.

Off, behind them, Karen watches with studious eyes, lifting an eyebrow at the slip of affection. Despite the continuous ride on the Thrilling Gallagher Adventures thanks to Lip, she could care less about the boy's obvious yet simple need to involve her in his life.

All she needed was a fuck buddy and he seemed to keep her entertain, much like the rest of her roster. However, that doesn't mean she's willing to give him up and allow him to fall into the Murphy teen's arms. While Karen's... extra-curricular activities were a known fact, not much was known about Lecroy.

Her mother's a nurse, takes care of the Gallaghers and is an advocate for DV, her father owns a small auto shop, her nana runs the neighborhood daycare center, and the teen was a certified hustler.

That was it. Not too detailed. Not too vague. A respectable, working class family. Karen could fucking barf.

Oookay, so, this is probably the longest piece I've written yet and this is just 30 mins of episode 2. The rest will be added into Chapter 3, later on.

As we've slightly touched on Murphy's mental health - specifically -- disruptive behavior disorder, at some point we will take a dive into just exactly what she's inherited from her family and how it affects her daily life.

Don't be afraid to inbox me or simply heart, reblog, comment, and/or follow me for more content! Ask me any questions, my time is yours right here,

Much Love!!

Taglist: @slytherinroyalty16 @v1rgorl

SERIES MASTERLIST

#lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher imagines #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fanfic #shameless imagines #shameless fanfiction #shameless #lip gallagher x black!reader #Jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white x black!reader #jeremy allen white fanfic

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phoenix761fics · 10 months ago

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Masterlist

Links broke on the old ones, so here's a single, much more organized new one. All fics tagged appropriately on their respective pages, including relevant content warnings. Enjoy!

The Boondock Saints

Eyes On You - PDA exposes one of Connor's kinks (Connor x reader x Murphy, smut)

Getting Mouthy - Murphy isn't the only one in trouble when he runs his mouth (Murphy x reader, smut adjacent)

The Grocery List - In which Connor learns not to snoop (Connor x reader, smut adjacent)

Just Being Neighborly - a locked door, a broken elevator, and the beginning of a night they’ll barely remember (Connor x Renata x Murphy)

Last Rites - the Saints’ final mission (angst, MCD)

Starving - Connor and Murphy loving on their lady (Connor x reader x Murphy, smut)

Two Saints and an Archer - Connor and Murphy MacManus were vigilantes on a mission from God before the zombie outbreak, now God only knows how they ended up with Daryl Dixon, reclusive redneck and crossbow extraordinaire. There’s no doubt the three of them can survive the apocalypse, but can they survive each other? (gen fic, crack, crossover)

Warrior Shepherds - They were called to destroy evil, but crossing paths with a wayward soul meant compromise. And in compromising, the MacManus brothers get more than they bargained for. (Connor x Renata x Murphy)

The Phantom of the Opera

Another Alternate Ending - didn't the Persian give Raoul a gun? (gen fic, crack)

Supernatural

A Dangerous Game - Ten years. No more and no less. Now the clock has run out and it’s time to negotiate a new deal with the King of Hell. (Crowley x OFC/reader)

A Work Of Art - after sealing the rift and trapping himself in an alternate dimension, Crowley gets the chance to observe humanity (Crowley x plus-size reader, fluff)

The Familiar Winchester - a spell of Rowena’s has unexpected results (gen crack, Sam and Dean)

The Fast Lane - After Rowena’s magic brought her back from the dead, Charlie still can’t find any peace. On the open road, with the witch as her reluctant companion, there’s no telling where she’ll find it. (gen hurt/comfort, Charlie and Rowena)

Friction - Friction: 1.) the clashing between two persons or parties of opposing views, 2.) the force that resists motion between two bodies in contact (Crowley x Gemma, smut)

Geek Squad - It's a quiet afternoon in the bunker until disaster strikes. (gen humor, Sam and Dean)

Going Up - "One aspect of humanity it was taking time to get used to was how bloody slowly they had to move." (Dean x Crowley, smut adjacent)

Graceless - After his release from the Winchesters’ dungeon, Crowley’s hold on the throne of Hell is more vulnerable than ever. Determined to strengthen his claim, he seeks to produce an heir with his mistress, young Annabel Allan, a human with no family and a powerful secret she doesn’t know she keeps. (Crowley x Annabel)

Heir Of Nothing In Particular - On the edge of another apocalypse, Cas and Crowley contemplate life, emotion, and all things human. (gen fic, Cas and Crowley)

Hell And Apathy - “Sam and Dean, but not her Sam and Dean…she trusted her friends with her life, and whatever the hell was going on with them right now…they were far from the men she knew.” (demon!Dean x reader x soulless!Sam, smut)

Howling - “The court was nearly returned to normal…as normal as Hell can get, at least…” (gen, Crowley and demon!Dean)

Original Prankster - Your favorite fictional hunter turns up in your kitchen, and your boyfriend knows more about it than he’s letting on (Gabriel x reader, crack)

If You Need Anything - when everything starts getting to you, your friend Cas is there to help you keep going (Castiel x reader, hurt/comfort)

Knock First - no one ever said hunting was glamorous, especially not when working with a demon who loves pushing people's buttons (Crowley x reader, humor)

Pie and Produce - kitchen fluff (Dean x Tara, fluff)

Ridiculous And Needy - “You really need to lock your doors. Anybody could sneak into your room and leave a few surprises in your closet.” (Crowley x reader, smut adjacent)

Roadside Assistance - “…when Crowley got the text from the bunker’s other resident, he didn’t think anything of it…” (Crowley x reader, FicFacers 2020)

She’s Buying A Stairway To Heaven - “His grip felt a lot more reassuring than any stranger’s had her entire life, but she supposed being menaced by a girl who committed suicide fifty years prior had a way of making things like that a little less odd.” (gen casefic, Dean and OFC)

Something You Don’t Know - a few mishaps on a hunt leads to a few confessions (Sam Winchester x reader, fluff)

Topeka Calling - Cas has caller ID. That hunter from Topeka has an itch. Dean just wants a refill. (gen humor, Cas and Dean)

Welcoming Committee - A tragedy prompts a new start for Sam and his son Jack (fluff AU, Sam and Charlie)

Why Can't There Be A Santa? - "There's no point in wasting that, because there's no bearded guy in a red suit coming to drink it." (gen fluff, Weechesters)

With The Touch Of A Button - One last End Of All Things, one last solution (gen crack, Team Free Will 2.0)

The Walking Dead

Bad Influence - “Her warmth was sinking under his skin until it felt like a little fire flickering through him…her voice soft and her words so full of that hope he was starting to think nothing could destroy…” (Bethyl Smut Week 2018)

Blue Into Black - Beth was a good girl, but something about Daryl Dixon made her want to be bad. Sequel to "I Don't Mind" (Bethyl Smut Week 2018)

Can't Tell Her No - Beth found something in her cell, and she can't wait to try them out (Beth x Daryl, smut)

Caught Staring - Beth goes for a walk in the prison yard (Summer of Bethyl 2018)

Entertaining - Beth is expecting two certain someones for dinner, and nothing could possibly go wrong (AU, Brickyl Week 2018)

Get Bit - Maybe if he’d just left that damn door closed… (Bethyl Smut Week 2018)

I Don't Mind - He’d never done anything like this before, never had an ongoing thing with someone. Whatever this “thing” was, cause damned if he knew. He’d never wanted to hold someone’s hand before, and he’d damn sure never wanted to kiss someone…not before Beth. (Bethyl Smut Week 2018)

Keep Singing - Daryl in Alexandria (Beth x Daryl, angst)

One More Song - The war is over and peace has been a long time coming, and it comes with someone Daryl thought he’d never see again (Bethyl Smut Week 2018)

The Parting Glass - a long night with memories and regrets (Negan x Lucille, angst)

Robin and Marian - They called him Robin Hood… (AU, Beth x Daryl)

Rushing, Racing, Running - They always had to be ready to run (Summer of Bethyl 2018)

Take Care Of It - Beth has been thinking about Daryl, and she’s kept it to herself so far. Now, though, she might let him hear about it. (Bethyl Smut Week 2018)

Talk Like That - You don’t talk back to him like that and get away with it. (Negan x reader, smut)

Trade You - “He needed somewhere to cool off, somewhere with a decent breeze that wasn’t crowded with people seeking his attention…” (Negan x Wendy)

Wake Up, Dollface - Negan visits after a shared glance (Negan x OFC, smut)

While You're Awake - Daryl can't sleep, and Beth doesn't want to. (Bethyl Smut Week 2018)

Why Ain't I Running - They never built a wall that high/Or made a chain that strong/And God ain’t never made a place/I felt like I belong (Bethyl Smut Week 2018)

Support your local scribbler! Likes are good, comments are better, and reblogs are best of all. ❤️

#fanfiction masterlist #boondock saints #phantom of the opera #supernatural #the walking dead #boondock saints fanfiction #phantom of the opera fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction

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writingrosesonneptune · 6 months ago

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Character Inverse Tag

🦉Thank you to @tabswrites for the tag!🦉

Rules: Describe the opposite of your OCs

Gently tagging: @cowboybrunch @chauceryfairytales @mysticstarlightduck @rhikasa @literarynecromancy and anyone else who wants to join in!

Doing this for the PQ cast!

Sadira: Laidback and not in a hurry to make any moves, always thinks everything through before making a decision. Has no problem sacrificing others' happiness or wellbeing in order to achieve her goals. Weak convictions. Doesn't care what others think of her and would never feel bad for speaking out of turn.

Yanna: Outspoken and outgoing, rushes in without thinking of the consequences. The bold leader of her group of friends, she has no patience for research or doing things the safe way. Hates secrecy and thinks writing in code is stupid. Doesn't snoop around. Would confess to her crush as soon as the thought occurred to her.

The Huntsman (L): Also hates secrecy, hates stealth even more, and would never pull a longcon to get even with someone. If he got upset about something, he would just let it go. No need to dwell on it. He doesn't have any special interests, either, no ill-advised collections. Just a hobbyless guy with a well-adjusted outlook. He probably doesn't even have a signature outfit.

Ghost-Hand: Real pleasant guy, very neighborly. If you messed up, he probably wouldn't have anything to say about it. Loud. Colorful wardrobe, maximilist decor. Thinks everyone has inherent worth and would never suggest sacrificing anyone for the greater good. Hates the military. The one thing is he acts kind of irrationally and holds onto grudges for a long time?

Bonus Characters under the cut.

Stryn: The best listener. Has uncanny perception both of time passing and when people are hiding something. Dispassionate; doesn't get fixated on his goals at all. Understands places are more than names on a map. Hates wolves and the theatre. Has no respect for spirits and is fine letting other people take charge.

Han: A total pessimist. Thinks things will never get better and lets opportunities pass him by. Doesn't worry about seeming useful and has no abandonment issues whatsoever. Quiet. Isn't nosy. Hates gossiping and window-shopping. Has no desire to read or go anywhere new.

E: Not one to overthink. Terrible at bluffing and is always honest about her feelings. Doesn't have a weird reaction to receiving gifts. Self-preserving law-abider. Has no sense of humor or impulse control. Never makes stupid bets with her husband to see who can get more information out of people.

Z: Cold, thinks what happens to others is no problem of his. Sharp dresser. Price gouges and takes sellers licenses very seriously. Loves the military. Plans everything five steps ahead and never avoids his problems. Terrible at reading people and keeping secrets.

Giuliana: Very well-adjusted to grief. Doesn't jump to conclusions, have a victim-complex, or blame people for things outside of their control. Not protective in the slightest. Laidback approach to parenting and governing. Is upfront about everything and respects authority outside of her own. No sense of fashion, could never be a trend-setter.

Alyssa: Meek, unadventurous. Doesn't like reading or working with others, and she doesn't have hangups about handling responsibility. Hates horses. Never gossips or makes a first move. Practical clothes only. Incapable of setting aside her feelings and won't compromise on anything.

#pelican queen #tag games

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mercerislandbooks · 9 days ago

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Our Favorite Fiction of 2024

Although there is still a month and a bit of 2024 to go, and it's entirely possible that one of us will find another novel we absolutely adore, we wanted to give you, our lovely customers, a peek at the collection of fiction we couldn't stop talking about this year. Our staff is a varied lot with diverse tastes (luckily our customers are just as delightfully quirky) and we hope there's something for everyone in this round-up of titles.

Cindy, Laurie, Nancy AND Caitlin all loved Liz Moore's The God of the Woods, with its historical setting, secrets galore, and rich people doing very bad things. If you're in the mood for a thriller set in the '70's this will satisfy.

As for Table for Two, by Amor Towles, Brad says that the concluding 200-page novella of this short story collection is "worth the price of admission", continuing the story of Rules of Civility. He was also charmed to discover the only published mystery of famed Winnie-the-Pooh author A. A. Milne. The Red House Mystery is for those of you longing for a perfect locked room whodunnit from the Golden Age of Mysteries.

For a contemporary thriller, Cindy highly recommends Listen for the Lie by Amy Tintera, saying, "Lucy Chase, exonerated in the murder of her best friend, is mortified when a popular (and handsome) true crime podcaster opens a new investigation that thrusts her into national and community scrutiny all over again. Moving back and forth between the events that led to the crime and this new investigation, old friendships and relationships are reconsidered. Let the neighborly finger-pointing begin! Again."

Or, if a week on Cape Cod with your adult kids AND your aging parents in the height of summer sounds appealing (or at the least, amusing to read about), Laurie and I both loved Sandwich by Catherine Newman. Funny, poignant, and perfect for book clubs, this is a short book that packs a punch.

My personal top read of 2024 is The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley. Try this smart and thought-provoking debut if you like time travel, handsome Arctic explorers, and shady government shenanigans.

One of Caitlin's favorites from this year is Small Rain, by Garth Greenwell, a book she calls, "Magnificent! A tender novel about healing, care-giving, and poetry." She also loved Us Fools, by Nora Lange, a heartbreaking yet humorous story about two sisters growing up in the Midwest during the 1980's farm crisis. And check out the testimonials at the front for Caitlin's quote!

Nancy and Caitlin can't stop talking about Fire Exit by Morgan Talty. Caitlin says, "A long kept family secret, inheritance, guilt and mental illness combine into one outstanding novel." While Nancy adds, "I can't say enough good things about this book and author. Incredible writing!"

Becca and I got to buddy read and write a blog about The Spellshop, the coziest of cozy fantasies. This one is for readers who want a warm hug of book with a dollop of whimsy. Warning, it will make you crave toast and jam.

And (in my opinion) our favorite fiction isn't complete without an exceptional romance. Ready or Not, by Cara Bastone was a fantastic, surprise pregnancy, friends-to-love romance. I absolutely loved these characters and all their emotions. Plus, the audiobook is one of the best I've listened to this year.

Check out the link to see our complete list and, as always, we're happy to give you even more recommendations!

2024: Our Favorite Fiction

Up next, our Favorite Nonfiction of 2024!

-- Lori

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braveveth · 11 months ago

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This is by no means an comprehensive list of aftg fic I very much adore and since I don’t know what you like it’s kind of a wild mix. But maybe there is something that catches your eye (and you don’t already know). Sometimes I have shortened the summaries to just a few tags so you might want to look that up for further information. It’s also a lot of AUs and so far only Neil/Andrew. If you are also interested in Kevin, Jean, Jeremy in some kind of combination- that’s a whole other list. If you’ve got questions, let me know. Otherwise: Enjoy :)

Push to talk by alexjosten | Firewatch AU: Neil needs a fresh start. He has a new name and a new job in the middle of nowhere, miles away from anything to do with Exy. The only person he speaks to is Andrew, who knows nothing about him... until Neil's past catches up with him.

And we‘ll be running by allysavedtheday | Band AU: It had been six months ago when Kevin called him, sounding drunk off his ass and on the verge of a breakdown, begging Neil for help as guitarist for The Monsters until Andrew comes back. First it was just something to vill the void. Now he doesn’t want to leave..

Sleeping with ghosts by boybeaulieu | Band AU / breakup and makeup: The Band AU where Andrew and his Monsters learn how to deal with notoriety while performing for an emo, grunge crowd. But what kind of musician has never experienced heartbreak? Not even Andrew, apparently.

Andrew Minyard‘s Diary by fuzzballsheltiepants | Bridget Jones AU: In which Andrew is Bridget Jones, Kevin is Daniel Cleaver, and Neil is Mark Darcy. Except none of them are like their inspiration characters at all.

We used to be friends by gluupor | Veronica Mars AU

No mourners, no funerals by gluupor | Six of Crows AU

Pie another day by gluupor | Basically a Pushing Daisies AU: very humorous

Murder boyfriends by justadreamfox | High School AU / Inspired by the movie heathers: It’s 1989. Riko Moriyama rules Westerburg High School and The Butcher rules Baltimore. Neil and Andrew are so, so over it. Shit’s about to get real

Such a fool for sacrifice by likeareacord | Bodyguard AU: Neil is a successful author with a stalker who seems to know a little too much about his past. He needs a bodyguard for his upcoming book tour. Enter: Andrew Minyard.

Meow Meow Lullaby by moonix | Library AU: When the existence of their library is threatened, rival librarians Neil and Andrew must team up to save it.

Much Ado by puddlejumper99 | Shakespeare AU: Loosely following the plot of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing, avowed bachelor Neil is determined never to marry, and also determined to insult Andrew into an early grave. Meanwhile, Riko is plotting to ruin Matt and Dan's wedding.

(dont‘t fear) the reaper srcibbleb_red | Under world AU: Andrew and Neil don’t meet in life. They meet in limbo. Andrew is a Reaper – a ‘ferryman’ charged with taking the souls of the recently deceased through limbo to the Other Side. Neil wakes up dead – killed by his father – or so he believes. But as ever for our Foxes, nothing is ever as simple as it seems.

honey don‘t feed me (I will come back) by talls | Greek Mythology AU: There’s a new god in the pantheon; Andrew remembers hearing about the scandal a while back, the newest Demeter having a child with the current Zeus and then going on the run, child in tow. They call him Persephone, the god of springtime and new life, the antithesis of Andrew's realm. It would be ludicrous of Persephone to ever interact with Andrew at all. If only someone told Persephone that.

under the kitchen lights by ephemeralsky | Neighbours AU: in which Andrew and Neil are neighbors who do various neighborly things

Back to the start by fuzzballsheltiepants | Amenesia / hurt/comfort: Andrew has been on his pro team for 6 months when he takes a ball to the head. Neil flies to Boston to see him - only to find that Andrew doesn't remember him.

Feels like falling by gluupor | Post canon / Getting back together: After college Andrew left behind both exy and Neil. Five years later, he’s built himself a stable life with nothing wanting. Or so he thinks, until a chance encounter brings him back in contact with Neil.

hello world by lolainslackss | Canon Divergence / Enemies to lovers / Professional Exy: Everyone on the US national team knows that Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten hate each other, so of course they all think it's hilarious to force them to share a room in the name of 'team harmony' for the entirety of the Exy World Cup.

LIFE SAVER!!! this is wonderful tysm<3 very excited about a lot of these. that firewatch au… and the underworld one….

totally get you about it being a wild mix btw. i’m the first to admit i can be pretty picky about characterisation but with these books you could genuinely be reading the wildest of au’s and it could still be incredibly in character (and vice versa). so i’m up to try a lot and this is giving me a whole lot to try!!

#gonna post this for others to see #i’ve read and we’ll be running would HIGHLY rec #the bodyguard au as well but v recently and soooo good too #fic rec #aftg #chatter #a-chorus-of-storytellers

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latibvles · 2 years ago

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SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.

beautiful, tragic // not yet burned.

you’re my best friend, we’re dancing in this world alone.

masterlist | gallery | taglist

TAGLIST: @liebgotts-lovergirl , @softguarnere , @brassknucklespeirs , @monalisastwin , @mads-weasley , @eugene-emt-roe

SUMMARY: Ginny’s never hated her — that much, Daisy is sure of.

WARNINGS: none.

Like the seasons, and like everybody else — the men in Easy have changed.

They’ve lost fingers or toes, some of them haven’t yet shaved those scruffy beards grown out in Foy and Haguenau. The same men who were so affable and bordering-on-neighborly with replacements in Holland have all but burned down the welcome wagon for whatever sorry replacements join them now in Mourmelon. Even George’s humor edges on dark some days to the point that Daisy isn’t sure anyone who wasn’t there would find it funny.

Some things remain the same.

She watches with keen interest as Joe handles the scissors, trimming away winter shag like the men are preparing for spring cleaning. Haircuts are traded for packs of smokes, the occasional nicer lighter or even money. He stacks them on one of the empty crates, gives Daisy a distracted order to “guard his shit” while he cuts hair, and every now and again glances at her like she might disappear and leave his precious cigarettes to the hands of sticky-fingered privates.

“Used to get weekend passes like this,” Joe admits, his grin almost mimicking that of the man she met a summer ago, but not quite. “Major Winters used to let me cut his hair. He’d gimme ‘em as long as he kept his ear.”

Daisy nods along, amused for a moment, before the thoughts of Dick lapse into thoughts of Ginny and she refocuses her gaze on Joe’s steady glance, offering up a half-distracted “Don’t think that’d work on Captain Speirs.”

They’d be moving into Germany in a few days, attached to Second Battalion again. She, Catherine, and Rita were all briefed on it that morning — making sure their replacements all knew what they were doing and what went where. Daisy wanted to stay, catch Ginny and talk but her word bank must’ve been effectively robbed. She couldn’t think of a thing to say and even if she could, she didn’t want to force herself into what looked like an important conversation between Ginny and Catherine.

She ducked away, tail between her legs. Then she found Joe doing haircuts. Now she’s halfheartedly guarding his loot as manages to conjure up a mohawk for this new replacement with only a pair of scissors. He gave him two packs of cigarettes in exchange.

“What, you won’t talk him into it? Bat your eyelashes and go ‘Oh Captain Speirs, Corporal Liebgott could really use that pass,” He asks once he’s done with the replacement and he’s effectively out of earshot, still keeping his voice a bit low. His voice takes on a higher pitch when he impersonates her, she rolls his eyes.

“I think he’d trust Rita with scissors near his head before you,” Daisy teases, expecting Joe to put a hand over his heart or otherwise feign offense. Instead he grimaces. She raises a brow. “What’s with the face?”

“What face?”

“That face,” she attempts to mimic it, before placing her hands on her hips. “You look pained.” Joe lets out a small huff, walking over and leaning against one of the crates, running his hand through his hair. She stares at him expectantly — he looks like he’s trying to decide if he should open his mouth. “You don’t have to say anything. Just figured I should ask,” Daisy offers, almost lamely.

“Has she talked to you? About anything?”

“Real specific, Joe,” Daisy retorts, ignoring the way he narrows his eyes. “About you? Not really, no.” She watches his jaw clench, and her brows furrow. “Should she be talking to me about something?” He groans, running his fingers through his hair.

“Christ, Dais, I don’t fuckin’ know,” he fumes, like he doesn’t know what to be angry with, so he’s directing it at the air. “Things were fine I think, in Haguenau. Now we’re here and it’s like… like I fuckin’ did something and she’s giving me the cold shoulder instead of saying what it is so I can fix it.” Daisy immediately disregards that possibility. Cold-shoulders were never Rita’s style, at least, not without a five minute verbal lashing predating it, and a blatant scowl whenever someone even associated with the offender is brought up. She presses her lips into a line.

“You two weren’t caught doing anything, were you?” Granted, she doesn’t even know if he knows that they have been caught once already, but Ginny’s ability to lie through her teeth had likely saved Rita from an abrupt transfer. He shakes his head, bowing his head for a moment to bite at his lip.

Joe doesn’t have some type of witty remark or sarcastic comment to throw her way and make her flush pink with embarrassment. But to be fair, he’s dryer than before and not much makes her blush. Still, he looks weighed down in a way she hasn’t seen him before, enough to know that he takes this, Rita, seriously. But of course, even if she knows the reason why – it wouldn’t be her business to speak on. It would be Rita’s.

“For what it’s worth you probably didn’t… do anything. She would’ve said something if you did,” she offers, kicking a rock near their feet and watching it skid over the gravel. “But we’re kind of told to put on a brave face for the rest of you. Better for morale if the nurses are always smiling. So I’d say it wouldn’t hurt to ask her what’s going on when you get the chance.” She leans to her left, bumping their shoulders. “And maybe treat her with all these haircut trinkets.” That makes him snort, rolling his eyes.

“Look at you and your bright fuckin’ ideas.”

“Keep pointing it out and I might start charging you for all this sage advice,” she retorts. Joe reaches to flick her ear, snickering as she swats his hand away. He’s effectively subdued again, resuming his prior stance and staring off.

“Don’t know how you do that shit — putting on a happy face all the time,” his laugh is almost bitter as he shakes his head. “Think I’d go crazy.”

“We get a lot of practice in,” Daisy explains with a shrug, hoping to leave it at that — lest she go into an explanation about how the kids didn’t cry in her house after watching their parents try and fail to keep it all in. “Also I think you have to be a little crazy to do any of this at all. You jumped out of an airplane, Joe.” He snorts at that, rolling his eyes.

“Uh huh, help me bring my stuff back to my rack, kid.”

“The hell’d you just call me?” But Joe doesn’t answer, just taking what he can into his hands and leaving the rest for her to take, snickering when she mutters in feigned offense about being referred to as a kid, and a part of her mind still on Ginny, on their distance, and how she’s supposed to close it like she ought to.

Ginny, who adamantly refuses to acknowledge that she’s upset at all — even though Daisy could so clearly see it. She keep carrying on and she’d let it swallow her whole if she had to.

Daisy figures she really ought to start taking her own advice.

Ginny doesn’t hate her.

Or rather, a more appropriate statement would be: Ginny doesn’t hate her enough to find a different tent, presumably. Or maybe even Ginny doesn’t hate her enough to take another enthusiastic Parisian vacation — and not invite a certain redheaded Major to come along with her.

This is really banking on the fact that Ginny doesn’t hate her, which in theory seems dramatic, but she’s put a lot of stock in her ability to keep Ginny calm, or rather her inability to make Ginny angry. Daisy was lucky that Ginny let her understand everything that went on in her head. So hopefully, she could get it right this time. As she approaches the tent, there’s light leaking through the canvas again — and she can’t help but think of that night with Ron, and the morning after, and how she still feels like she’s stumbling through some prolonged bad dream.

But that was real, and the morning after was real, and the way she snapped on Ginny was real, too.

She pokes her head in, watches wordlessly at Ginny, sat on the edge of the cot, scribbling over sentences on a piece of mail with a pen. Daisy hesitates, watching as she scribbles over words and mutters to herself as she does so. She could leave it for another day, when Ginny isn’t scribbling out sentences like they’ve personally offended her.

“Do you plan to stand there for the next thirty minutes or what?”

Ginny doesn’t have to look at her for Daisy to know she’s the one being addressed. She doesn’t reply, but steps fully into the dimly lit tent. Ginny keeps going, rolling her eyes at the piece of paper and letting out a small sigh as she folds it up and tears open another envelope.

“They still got you censoring mail?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

Daisy doesn’t sit, not wanting to invade her space, but standing in front of her all the same. Watching, waiting, trying to form a coherent thought but coming up with blanks. This would be when Ginny would allot herself a couple of complaints, a few muttered curses about Peake and about whoever’s mail it was that she was censoring, and Daisy would try to make her laugh and they’d carry on. But Ginny doesn’t even allot herself that. She just keeps scribbling, and Daisy keeps standing there, feeling dumb.

This was easier in her head — where she imagined that if Ginny didn’t want to talk to her she’d just kick her out. But this isn’t what she imagined it to be and she still can’t tell if that's a good thing. Her palms are sweaty, and she feels smaller than she’d like to. Part of her wants to come up with an excuse and slink away before she can further embarrass herself, but she decides against that. Out with it.

“I’m sorry,” she musters, after another second of silence.

The scribbling stops. She watches Ginny press her lips into a line.

“I told you that—”

“I know what you said,” Daisy interjects. “But I don’t think you meant it. And if I did then you can tell me I’m wrong and I’ll apologize for assuming.” Ginny looks up at her now, but she doesn’t say anything. Her brows are knit together, the pen resting in her lap, idle. Daisy lets out a small sigh, but holds her friend’s gaze while she still has it. “I’m not apologizing for being upset, I’m saying sorry for snapping on you. And if you don’t want to accept it then I can’t change your mind but I still owe it to you.”

She doesn’t know what to expect — watching as Ginny’s face goes through a multitude of expressions. Ginny runs a hand through her hair, leaning her weight on her elbows. The exhaustion finally shows on her face, and Daisy can’t recall the last time she’d seen someone look so tired.

“You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever known, Boston,” she mutters, with an irritated sort of affection. Daisy bites back a smile.

“You haven’t met yourself, then.” She dares to step forward and take a seat beside her, letting her side bump into Ginny’s and counting it as a victory when she doesn’t push her away or glare at her for sitting. “Can’t get one over on me though. I know when you’re mad.” And then, as she looks her up and down, Daisy decides to add “And when you’re tired.”

“Don’t you start nagging me too, Dais.”

“So Dick’s taken over in my absence, I’m assuming?” Daisy plucks the letter and the pen from her, taking Ginny’s lack of an answer as a confirmation. “Great then, maybe with his, mine, and Rita’s power combined you’ll actually rest on your breaks, now pass those letters over.”

“Daisy, you don’t have to—”

“Virginia Brant if you finish that sentence with you don’t have to do that, I’m going to take Rita and Cat’s mail too to censor all of it out of pure spite.” Which would definitely be a personal punishment, which Ginny definitely knows by the way that she snorts. Daisy smiles at her all the same. “Now lie down before I get him in here to forcibly tuck you in and just pass me envelopes when I need them.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Ginny offers with a snicker. Daisy shoves her, lightly, until she’s willingly falling onto her back and watching.

“You sound like you’d enjoy that way too much, so I’m retracting that statement. I’ll get Ron to do it instead. Or Captain Nixon. Maybe both.” Ginny pulls a face, something between grossed out and amused at the very thought. Daisy snickers.

“Keep up with the threats and I might just reject that apology of yours,” she hums, nudging Daisy with her foot. Daisy arches a brow, but reverts her attention to the letters, scribbling out locations, names that they can’t send out, certain dates.

“Then how long’s my probation?”

Ginny’s silent for a while, like she’s mulling it over. Daisy lets her and doesn’t pry as she contemplates.

“‘Till we’re in Germany. Then you’re good.” Daisy smiles at that, as she tears open another letter.

“Sounds good to me.”

#fic // sad beautiful tragic #ronald speirs x oc #ronald speirs x ofc #band of brothers oc #band of brothers fic #hbo war fic #hbo war oc #hbo war ofc

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timothvy · 1 year ago

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You’re Holding Me, You’re Holding Back by ME !!!

“It’s all over me.” With little hesitation, Leorio blew on Kurapika’s face. When Kurapika reopened his eyes, he was met with a glare. “You just spit all over me.”

Leorio tried to hold back one of his shit-eating grins Killua found humor in. “Oops.”

When Kurapika shows up at Leorio's door late one night on the Black Whale, the neighborly thing to do is to invite him into your bed, right?

*hypnotizes you into reading and commenting*

#erp… my writing *covers eyes*#ignore the dsmp fics i like my writing for them but i’m outta the fandom so </3 #kurapika #leorio paladiknight #leopika #kurapika fanart #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter fanfic #leopika fanart #my writing #fanfiction #kurapika x leorio #hxh fanfic #hxh fandom

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ao3feed-dadzawa · 1 year ago

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Serendipitous Encounters

Serendipitous Encounters by Coffee Scribbles

Contrary to popular belief, Izuku Midoriya hadn't actually intended to do anything illegal. Apparently vigilantism actually IS a slippery slope, and the transition from neighborly, helping old ladies with their groceries, to leaving would-be muggers tied up in alley-ways… is rather quick and easy to slip. Who coulda guessed?

Still, if he's honest, Izuku isn't as bothered as he probably should be. —Though he still feels a little peeved about the outfit thing though. If he'd known he was going to be breaking the law, he definitely would've added more flare. More colorful spandex for sure. A cape too, maybe.— It's only the second strangest thing happening in Izuku's life, after all. First place definitely goes to the random skills and memories he keeps acquiring out of nowhere.

(I.e; Izuku is a time-traveling amnesiac trapped in his own fourteen year old body... Or, at least, that's his current running theory. The runner up being, of course, that he's managed to loose his marbles in the most inconvenient yet genre-savvy way possible. Though he's hoping for the former, he's not really sure it matters. At least now he can start saving people, right?)

Words: 2753, Chapters: 1/15, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Midoriya Inko, Sasaki Mirai | Sir Nighteye, Shinsou Hitoshi, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Bakugou Katsuki

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Vigilante Midoriya Izuku, Time Travel Fix-It, (kind of), Fluff and Angst, Humor, Temporary Amnesia, Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead | Dadzawa, Bullying, Middle School Student Midoriya Izuku, Time Travelling Midoriya Izuku, Amnesiac Midoriya Izuku, Basically just 14yr old Izuku gaining some of his future self's random memories and abilities, lots of morally grey characters, this is a pretty lighthearted fic, but it does touch on some rougher topics, Neglectful Midoriya Inko, (she tries her best), Burns, Quirkless Discrimination, Snarky Midoriya Izuku, Unreliable Narrator Midoriya Izuku

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47975944

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Dadzawa #♦#Aizawa Shouta #Izuku Midoriya #Yagi Toshinori #Inko Midoriya #R:G #A:Coffee #Vigilante AU #Dadzawa #Dad Might #Time Travel #Fluff #Angst

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cutegirlmayra · 1 year ago

Note

Do you do Marvel fanfics? If yes I would love to read about spiderman and ironman being in a father-son like relationship. I love you !! ❤️❤️

It is, indeed, not my forte but I will have a go, why not?

PROMPTS ARE STILL ON SHUTDOWN, Don’t send anymore. Please and thank you ^^

Prompt:

Swinging wildly through the city, there was a concert of both cheers and boos, as Peter–everyone’s neighborly superhero: Spiderman!–swung with too many things he was carrying.

On one shoulder, his phone–which he tried to push his cheek against to keep it from falling, his spidey-sense letting him know his bag with all his school books was slipping and the zipper getting snagged on his suit.

Scrambling with his feet to keep his books from dropping out of his bag, he fumbled in the air, having to dodge building after building, while finally deciding to end the suffering and just string every article of his around his chest and squirted his string to the back of his phone and slapped it on his cheek.

Finally, he could swing well, “Sorry, Mr. Stark, I didn’t quite get that last part-? Woah!” he dodged a speeding train, having not even realized his surroundings. Hanging on to one tethering string, he was being twirled by the momentum he had dodged at, and finally, crashed into an open garbage dump, with large trash bags to–hopefully–cushion his fall. “Offph! Did you say ‘outing’?” He stuck his head out of the large green bin as he hit away from banana peels and jumped to get out, having to ‘swim’ at first to get through the grimey terrain.

“Listen, I don’t have a lot to explain to you what a ‘Camping trip’ is,” Tony, on the other hand, had his hands mostly loosen as he kept the phone up by his ear and kissed Pepper on the cheek as she walked by him and turned around to smile at him while he made his way down his multi-billion dollar hallway to work. “Where’s my earpiece?” He looked down at a kid with his dad’s reporter’s pass and pulled it out of his ear as though it was a magic trick. “There it is.” He ruffled the kid’s hair, clicked a few buttons, then put the device in his ear.

Completely nonchalant in his sarcasm, as usual, he then shook both arms out as though to ‘relax’ and pressed on with his conversation, adjusting the cuffs on his nice business suits at the ends of his wrists, “But it’s what grown men do to let out some steam and–I don’t know, Parker–bond?” He waved to a man passing by and then put his hands together, “I’m aware it’s your birthday coming up and you and I are going fishing.”

Spiderman was now in the jaws of a vicious, mutated, humongous monster as he leaned out of its mouth, the phone still stuck to his cheek as both his hands and arms were keeping it from clamping down on him.

“L-Like a father-son outing, Mr. Stark?” He looked around before gauging he needed a hand… pushing the jaw open with only one hand now he sprayed into its eye and gracefully back-air-swaned out of its mouth. “But what will I wear?”

“Mosquito repellant, and for your skin, definitely any sunscreen higher than what’s normally prescribed.” Stark was making himself some coffee, picking it up and taking a sip, “Ah~”

Peter’s voice answered with a roar of some monster and wind scraping through the microphone it sounded like, “Sunscreen isn’t prescribed, Mr. Stark.” he flew through the air to swing around the monster.

“It should be.” Stark humorously spoke out in a neutral tone, “Now, I’ll provide the camping stuff, you just bring your darling self.” He smiled, “Oh, and one more thing.”

Spiderman had now lassoed the monster in one hand, and with the other, put reins on it as it thrashed around the park. “Yes, Mr. Stark?” He looked around, as though wondering, ‘What now!?’

Tony stopped in the hallway, looking straight ahead, “Finish him, already… I’m growing bored.” Suddenly, the camera zoomed in to show Stark was watching the news on his glasses, thin holograms that were highlighting Spiderman’s fight.

“M-Mr. Stark?” He looked around, having tried hard to disguise the fact that he was busy.

“I appreciate that you love talking to me so much that you wouldn’t hang up the phone nor interrupt me.” Stark smirked, “So do us all a favor and give us a showman worth rooting for?” He took another big and hard gulp of his coffee, lifting his head up a bit to do so. “You’re losing me, kid.” He encouraged, as though to give the audience a big ‘BANG!’ finisher.

Peter paused for a moment as the monster kept rampaging like a bull trying to toss a rider from his back, but he chuckled after realizing that he was aware the whole time, and jumped.

The Monster reared its head up, but Spiderman tied it’s rex-like feet to the base of the ground with his webs, then swung up to teether different parts of its body to trees, then tripped it with a long string on the other side as it started to break free. “Timbbberrr!!!” he cried out as it came crashing down and hit it’s jaw on the water-fountain.

Drinking the water… it suddenly started licking, then gulping… before getting up and seeming to grow larger…

“Ahhh, Mr. Stark!” He realized it a bit late.

“It’s like one of those dinosaur pills you put in the sink and watch it form from a sponge.” Stark commented.

“... What? That was a thing? Was that an old person’s childhood toy, sir?” Spiderman stepped back a bit, but tried to keep the trip string and use it to tie its ankles so even though it was growing, it was still down.

“... How dare you.” Stark pulled the earpiece off and directly spoke down to it at his comment.

“Bomb it, Peter!” he cried out, as Spiderman leaped towards it’s guzzling mouth and sat on it’s nose, tossing small spider-bombs into the water as it drank it down, “My Aunt May once had to take care of this pomeranian our neighbors kept, and she would mix it’s medicine in with it’s food all the time.” Peter began to go on a mini-tangent before jumping away and running up the monster’s back. “I think this is the same thing expect we’re really not trying to help it-!”

“Get out of there, Peter..!” Stark looked out the window, and saw the massive explosion as the guts of the creature sprayed out with water all over his nice building’s windows… such was the radius of the blast.

“... I just bought this place.” He turned around and spoke into the earpiece again, “You better fish better than you fight.”

The two sat in the great outdoors, the chairs very standard with a cooler in between them, and the fishing lines out across the bright, azure lake.

“... You know, Mr. Stark, they say that-” Peter began on a scientific rant about facts ranging from mountains, lakes, and urban legends regarding some of them.

Tony dipped his hat down, sighing as he seemed like he was about to fall asleep rather than tell the boy to pipe down, knowing it was something that made him happy.

However, peeking from under the hat, he saw another huge monster’s tail in the water, and without telling Peter about it, immediately shifted his hand to a part of his Iron Man’s suit and blasted it.

“Woah-Woah!” Peter scooted back, shocked at the beam. “Mr. Stark! The Fish-!”

Powering down, Tony flexed his arm and pumped it a second to make the Iron Man fist arm go away and convert back to himself. “Crocodile.” he stated.

“B… B-But- Mr. Stark,” Peter began to protest, “They don’t live in waters like this.” He looked between the lake and Tony.

Tony put the hat back over his head and leaned his neck back, “What were you saying… about the ecosystem here compared to europe?” He proved he was listening..! And smacked his chops before pulling out a can, popping it, and drinking it down.

Aunt May had told Tony he had never had a real ‘guy’s trip’ before, and she always felt bad that she wasn’t much of a hiker, skier,... Heck, even anything on a boat made her woozy.

Hearing that, Tony couldn’t be happier than sending a drone out over the lake while Peter was busy, discreetly clicking some buttons on his arm before it flew down into the water, and Tony jumped up to point to Peter’s rod.

“Look!” he cried out, “Reel it in, reel it in!” He scrambled to help get Peter to his feet, holding the rod with him as the Drone took the dead monster body, wrapped the fishing line around itself, and began to pull against the pressure.

“Woah! It’s a big one, Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed, jawgapping as he tried to dig his feet into the ground to keep his catch.

“Must be one of your urban legends, Peter!” Stark summoned out his Ironman arms, “I can’t hold him, Peter, we’ll need your webslinger!”

“Right!” Peter shot into the lake as Tony pretended to fall back down behind him, and stuck out his tongue as he secretly, playfully, started putting in code.

“Watch out, Peter, hang on to it. We’ll cook this one up for Aunt May, she’ll see! We’ll get a big ol’picture!” He just kept spouting out silly nonsense before the Drone flew half the huge body out of the water.

“Uhhh-aahhh, Mr. Stark, that’s not a fish!” He cried out.

“Sure it is.” Stark smirked and reached out to grab his can again, drinking some more. “Keep at it, kid, you’ll reel it in. Don’t worry, you got it.”

Shooting out his string, deciding to trust him, he was able to hook it and tied the end of his string around the fishing reel.

They got a pic for Aunt May alright… with two big happy-go-lucky smiles on their faces, openly grinning from ear to ear as they held a secondary monster up out of the water with thumbs up. YT

(But imagine it's a monster instead that their holding and the pic is for Aunt May with a nature scene behind them lol)

#tony stark #peter parker #spiderman #ironman #spiderman and ironman #marvel #father and son #cutegirlmayra

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ao3feed-izuku-midoriya · 1 year ago

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Serendipitous Encounters

Serendipitous Encounters by Coffee Scribbles

Words: 2753, Chapters: 1/15, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Midoriya Inko, Sasaki Mirai | Sir Nighteye, Shinsou Hitoshi, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Bakugou Katsuki

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Vigilante Midoriya Izuku, Time Travel Fix-It, (kind of), Fluff and Angst, Humor, Temporary Amnesia, Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead | Dadzawa, Bullying, Middle School Student Midoriya Izuku, Time Travelling Midoriya Izuku, Amnesiac Midoriya Izuku, Neglectful Midoriya Inko, (she tries her best), Burns, Quirkless Discrimination, Snarky Midoriya Izuku, Unreliable Narrator Midoriya Izuku, One For All Quirk Haunted by Past One For All Users' Ghosts, Crack Treated Seriously, Basically Izuku and All Might keep remembering snippets of the future, (Via their connection through OFA), and they're trying to figure out what the hell is going on, BAMF Midoriya Izuku

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47975944

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Izuku #♦#Izuku Midoriya #Aizawa Shouta #Yagi Toshinori #Inko Midoriya #R:G #A:Coffee #Vigilante AU #Dadzawa #Dad Might #Ghost AU #Time Travel #Fluff #Angst

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zipzin · 1 year ago

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Neighborly Affections - Also on Ao3

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe, Sara Lance & Zari Tomaz

Characters: Sara Lance, Ava Sharpe, Zari Tomaz, Ray Palmer, Nate Heywood, Nora Darhk

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers/Time Travel, Neighbors, Assholes to Friends to Lovers, Everyone is Gay, (except ray and nora), Crack, Humor, Youtuber!Sara, Lawyer!Ava

Summary: It only takes two seconds for Sara to hate her new (distractingly beautiful) neighbor. If only Zari would understand how serious she is instead of posting clips of her ranting.

The door clicked shut behind her and Sara stared at the mattress blocking the hallway. “What the hell?” She muttered.

The answer came to her as soon as she uttered the words, someone was finally moving in. Daphne, the previous renter, had been nice, in the, thanks for watching my plants, I’m pretty sure you would steal my prescription medication if you could find it, kind of way, and Sara hadn’t exactly been sad to see her go.

But still, the devil you knew was usually better than the devil you don’t.

“What are you doing!?” A woman screeched on her left.

Before Sara could answer, she was pushing Sara further down the hall, away from the stairs.

“Hey!” Sara shoved the woman’s hands off her, “What are you doing?”

“You’re in the way!” The woman was wearing a pantsuit of all things, and had a tight bun that looked like it was up to military standards. She was, well, beautiful, even if the pantsuit and bun were doing her no favors.

“I’m trying to leave!” Sara yelled back at her.

The woman ignored her as she turned back to the mattress, which Sara could now see was being carried by two men. The hallway was barely wide enough to fit it through.

Sara clenched her fists as she weighed her options, and then under her breath, muttered, “Fuck it.”

She darted forward, trying to squeeze through the infinitesimal gap and the woman yelled again, “WAIT!”

“Can I just,” Sara knocked one of the movers back and slid past him and the mattress, “Sorry!” She yelled back as she raced down the stairs. She let out a breath once she made it outside, her momentary peace interrupted by a massive moving truck that was parked out front, emergency lights flashing alongside an incessant beeping sound.

Sara groaned as she started her watch for her run and hoped that they would be gone by the time her warmup was done. If only she’d brought her phone so she could tell Zari to move the filming to later and she could hide in the nearest Starbucks until this was all done

Whatever, Sara thought, as she proceeded to jog down the street.

She didn’t love running, privately, she felt that the only people who did were either self-identified masochists or depressed (and probably didn’t know it), but it was one of the easiest ways to workout, and one of the best ways to warm up for when they’d be doing a variety of dynamic exercises for circuits. She dodged through people until she got to the small park three blocks down and began her loop.

Her mood was not improving.

She should have decided to box this morning.

That annoying woman, Sara knew instinctively that would be her neighbor, but she still hoped that she was just some overbearing manager for a moving company. If those existed, Sara figured, they’d be just like her.

She reluctantly headed back and slowed to a walk as she approached the building, dismayed, despite her assumptions, to find the moving truck was still there. She should have just accepted Zari’s wrath and run for longer. Or gotten coffee.

The woman was on the sidewalk now, talking to one of the movers and waving her hands around like they’d dropped her mother’s ashes. They’re taking up the entire sidewalk, because why wouldn’t they be, and Sara tries to dart around them right as the woman turns.

The woman’s knocked back, and Sara can only wince as she makes it to the doors.

“Watch where you’re going!” The woman growled, her neat bun now knocked askew.

“Sorry.” Sara called as she opened the doors.

She watched the woman bat away the mover’s hand and stand. Sara slipped inside, but not before hearing the woman bellow, “You are the clumsiest idiot I’ve ever met!”

It wasn’t her fault, they shouldn’t have been taking up the whole sidewalk.

Sara raced up the stairs and slammed open the door, “What a bitch!”

Zari just hummed as she fiddled with one of their studio lights.

Sara let out a loud sigh, “She better not be our new neighbor.”

Zari rolled her eyes. “Who? And you’re late.”

Sara checked her watch, “I’m not, well, blame the bitch in the pantsuit who was yelling at everything that existed today. I get an inch in her way and it’s like I stole her purse. If she’s our new neighbor, I swear.”

She was not dealing with that woman everyday. Why did Daphne have to move? She barely used those muscle relaxers anyway.

“I’ll take that bet.”

Sara let out a sigh of frustration as she started on some dynamic stretches to keep her heart rate up. “I’m not stupid.”

Zari had made more money that Sara was willing to admit on stupid bets in college.

“If you’re sure,” Zari shrugged, “and everything’s ready to go when you are.”

“Yeah,” Sara nodded as she shook at her limbs. “I’m telling you-”

“Sara,” Zari warned and Sara nodded.

They weren’t the best taskmasters, it depended on the day for who derailed them, but Sara shut up and looked at the bulleted list she’d made this morning for the exercises she’d be doing. The video they were filming would be about creating your own circuit, so it was a lot less structured than some of her others.

“We’ll do the exercise shots first,” Zari said with her no nonsense voice that Sara knew she got from her mother, “And you better not change your mind halfway through.”

“Relax,” Sara said, “This is about making circuits, so the exercises just need to be examples. These are good.”

“There’s nothing else you want to add?”

“Nothing else,” Sara promised.

“I’m holding you to that,” Zari grumbled.

Sara bit a lip to keep from laughing. She knew that Zari wouldn’t actually be annoyed if Sara added one or two, she was more of a perfectionist than Sara was when it came to the videos. Though, in a lot of ways, they were more of Zari’s than Sara’s. They had started during university, three years ago, when Zari had asked Sara to help her make a video for one of her classes. Sara, almost finished with her kinesiology degree, had helped with the script on a basic workout video while Zari handled all of the technical bits.

They’d both been surprised when it got a couple thousand views in the first week, and had tentatively made a couple more, shocked at the climbing view count. When they’d graduated five months later, they’d decide to keep them going to make a couple extra bucks.

Today, they made plenty more than that, and had no trouble covering their shared living expenses with their other roommate and Zari’s girlfriend, Amaya. Sara still worked part-time at a gym as a personal trainer, but that was for the socialization and ideas with the cash just being a bonus, and Zari had her hands full with a bunch of other editing gigs and her own, albeit much smaller, gaming channel.

“Rolling!” Zari yelled and Sara jumped down to start a plank. Showtime.

Sara was in the middle of her second set of clap push ups when the knocking started. It’s loud, irritating, and there‘s no way that Zari will be able to edit it out in post. Sara finished the set, cursing whoever is behind the door and that Zari made her film by herself today.

“WHAT?” She demanded as she threw open the door.

The woman didn’t even flinch back, “Finally! You took forever.”

“Why are you pounding on my door?”

“Some of us work from home.” The infuriating woman, wearing what Sara assumed was a different, if identical looking blue pantsuit, said, “And your music and grunting is too loud. I can’t be on a call when everyone can hear it in the background.”

“That’s not my problem,” Sara scoffed, “You should have checked the audio levels before you moved here.”

“I did!” She took a step forward so she’s right in Sara’s face, “And there wasn’t any of this, whatever the hell you’re doing.”

“Well, this is my work, so deal with it. Go to a coffee shop or something.” Sara slammed the door so hard it shook the wall. It felt better than it should have, and if Amaya was here Sara would probably get a long lecture. Zari would probably just laugh. Sara turned up her music a little bit and turned back to the camera.

“Oh my annoying, infuriating neighbor. The music is barely audible in the hall,” Sara rolled her eyes as she talked. “But some people will find any reason to not like you. So on to set 3.”

Sara rubbed at her head with one hand and braced herself on the handrail with the other as she walked down the stairs. She had to lean against the wall on each landing for a moment before tackling the next flight to catch her breath. And not throw up.

The shots were a mistake.

The fluorescent lights blinked down at her like a demon of sunlight and Sara squinted behind her sunglasses. She should have grabbed Zari’s too. Her head throbbed as she finally made it three floors down to the lobby.

Why is she here again?

Oh, right, Sara nodded to herself, the sudden movement having her grab and rub at her forehead. The mail.

After losing rock paper scissors against Zari (who didn’t drink and wasn’t even hungover, the bastard), she’d been forced to retrieve it, because apparently there was a check they needed now waiting for them. Sara groaned as she fumbled with her key and opened the door to the mailroom. Lights glared down at her mockingly and she stumbled to the corner that housed their mailbox.

She blinked dumbly at the woman already occupying the space. Gorgeous blonde locks spiraled down her back and Sara could only stare as she turned around.

It just had to be the bitch in a pantsuit, because of course, what else would she be wearing? At least this time her hair wasn’t in that uncomfortable looking bun.

She stopped when she saw Sara, lips curling up, “You.”

Sara blinked a couple times, “Me?”

“Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors?”

“Um, you know, why not,” Sara defended, wincing as she slid them up her face and immediately let them fall again. Her pride was not worth the pain.

“It’s a Wednesday.” The woman stares.

“So? Are you going to preach your puritanical morals-”

“Puritanical!?” The woman screeched and Sara held her head. The woman stepped forward, “Listen here, girl,” Girl? Sara scoffed and the woman poked her in the chest. “You don’t know anything about me, so go on keep making a fool of yourself, at least I’m not a trashy washout.”

Sara tried to laugh, but it sounded strained even to her ears, “You don’t know anything about me either, now move, bitch.” Sara shoved her to the side and the woman squawked as some mail fluttered from her arms.

“That’s bitch esquire to you.”

Sara ignored her as she fumbled with her own mailbox and by the time she gathered everything, the woman was gone.

Good, Sara thinks. And then cursed when she remembered she had three flights of stairs in front of her.

---

Zari opened the blinds and let the glory of golden hour bathe the apartment in wonderful, amber light. One day, Zari promised herself (for the countless time), she would make a video with this lighting glowing through the apartment. With all the cuts and additions they made on Sara’s videos, it was just too tricky to capture everything before it faded into darkness that required artificial light if they wanted to keep up the quality. And Zari wasn’t about to rage quit trying to match the colors between shots.

They’d still take a bunch of photos, using them for a combination of thumbnails and social media that most people would ignore her artful framing in favor of lusting over Sara’s body. How Sara could stand it, Zari didn’t entirely know.

“Ugh.”

Sara stepped out of her bedroom, wearing tiny athletic shorts covered by a large, oversized hoodie, looking monumentally better than she had when Zari had forced her to get the mail that morning, except perhaps the riotous mess on top of her head that was her hair. Napping worked wonders.

“You’re alive,” Zari said sarcastically.

“Ha ha.” Sara rolled her eyes. “Let me get my face looking less like I just woke up, and then I’m ready.”

Zari nodded as she disappeared, double checking her laptop for the values, and pulling the camera off the tripod. It’s a well oiled machine between them, one, despite Zari’s easy working relationship with Nate and Ray, had still never been truly matched. Sara emerged the second after Zari was done looking at her test photo, and with minimal instruction went through several poses and some vague attempts at exercises.

As photos, no one will notice that Sara doesn’t get the full extension.

“Alright,” Zari said, “That should be good, let me switch over for the video.”

Sara dragged the chair over as Zari flicked the camera onto rolling.

“Was the check there?” Sara asked.

“You didn’t look?”

Sara had thrown the mail at her the second she’d re-entered the apartment and promptly went to her room to sleep. The check hadn’t been there, but Zari is planning on keeping that tidbit to herself as long as possible.

“The stupid neighbor was there and got all in my face again.” She scowled, “What an asshole.”

“Really?” Zari frowned, she’d met Ava twice, both times on the landing. Once, where she’d been balancing several folders and trying to open her door. She’d been extremely polite when Zari had offered to hold them (even if she hadn’t taken her up on it), and the second time, was when they’d done the terrible trying to go around each other and tried to walk the same direction three times.

“I could just feel the judgment dripping off her,” Sara continued.

“You were hungover on a Wednesday morning.”

“Anyway,” Sara said loudly, “She got all in my face which was the last thing I needed because of your assholery. So, I may have bumped into her and her mail might have spilled on the floor.”

“Sara!”

“It was an accident!” Sara defended, “I didn’t think she’d drop anything, and I might have called her a bitch.”

Zari was glad that Amaya got called in for an emergency surgery and didn’t have to hear this. She’d probably bake Ava a pie and make Sara deliver it on threat of being kicked out.

Sara continued, “I think she thought it was funny because she just said, ‘that’s bitch esquire to you.’”

Zari bursted out laughing, “No.”

“Yes!” Sara said. “I don’t even know what esquire means.”

“It means she’s a lawyer. Isn’t your sister a lawyer?”

“Yeah, but they just call her a prosecutor, not esquire.” Sara frowned and for once looked a little worried, “She can’t sue me, right?”

Zari snorted, “I don’t think being an asshole means you can get sued. I’d say never change, but I’d prefer you didn’t do something that gets us to get kicked out.”

“I wouldn’t!”

“If it got a rise out of Ava?”

“Who’s Ava?”

“The neighbor, dumbass,” Zari rolled her eyes.

“Well,” Sara coughed, her cheeks blazing red, “I would think about that terrible look Amaya would give us before I did it, if it helps?”

“It doesn’t.” Zari shook her head, “And I’m ready when you are.”

Sara nodded seriously and rolled her shoulders, face changing from her goofy still slightly hungover friend to the YouTuber that thousands of horny women lusted over, “Hey everyone!”

Zari took another bite of her hamburger and leaned back against the pool chair. Sara and Ava were waving their hands at each other like they were both having a freak-out and asking for the manager.

“I don’t get it,” Nate said beside her as he watched them, “Ava’s been a great neighbor, the other day she helped me get Scoots up the stairs right after I sprained my wrist.”

Zari rolled her eyes, biting her lip to keep from saying anything.

“She wants to bone her.” Mick said unceremoniously.

Ray snorted, beer spurting out of his nose and leaving him hacking and coughing as Nate handed him a stack of napkins and slapped his back.

Well, Mick said it.

“Totally,” Zari agreed and Mick raised his beer in salute.

Jax frowned, “Okay, but Sara usually has more game than whatever tragedy is happening right now.” It looked like for a second Sara was going to shove Ava, but instead took a step closer.

“They started off on the wrong foot and neither of them are willing to back down.” Zari said, “I have like forty minutes of footage of Sara complaining about the slightest inconveniences.”

“Have you shown her?” Wally asked.

“She’s seen the clips I put at the ends of the videos,” Zari shrugged. It was one of the things that had first put them on the map, bloopers, small behind the scenes clips, and other disasters from Sara’s life that she’d ramble about as they got set up. Sara had sighed at the neighbor clips, but let Zari keep them in. Already their engagement was up as people sighed about being Sara’s mystery neighbor. Most of the comments were in agreement with Mick.

“Mick’s right,” Snart drawled, “They are totally going to fuck.”

“Probably right after Halloween,” Nate nodded.

They all turned and stared at him.

“What?” He squawked.

“C’mon, that’s way too fast,” Jax said.

“You’re inviting Ava to the party, right?” Nate asked.

“I think Amaya already has,” Zari answered.

“So, not too fast,” Nate gestured at her while everyone shook their heads at him.

“How much do you wanna bet?” Mick asked.

Nate froze, and then a look of determination crossed his face, “Fifty bucks.”

“I’ll take that,” Snart said, “I say three months.”

“New Year’s,” Mick answered.

“I think it will be mid May,” Ray said, “Not too hot yet, doubtful it’s raining, it will be perfect.”

“That’s six months away,” Jax laughed, “It’ll take them some time but not half a year. I say a week before Valentine’s day.”

They started handing money to Ray, who already had his phone pulled up and was typing down everyone’s dates, “Zari?”

Zari paused and took a long sip from her water. “They’ll come close on New Year’s,” Zari nodded to Mick, “But it will happen two weeks after.”

“No way they keep it in their pants that long.” Wally said, “It’ll be at Friendsgiving.”

“Friendsgiving?” Zari laughed, “When everyone’s so stuffed we can barely move? Would Ava even go to that?”

“I’ll invite her,” Wally shot back, “And it will be during the party, when everyone’s starving and has had significantly more alcohol than food, just watch, we won’t be able to find them.”

“You’re an idiot,” grumbled Mick.

They watched as Sara stormed inside, momentarily pausing their betting. “Actually, I think it’ll happen tonight.” Nate said.

“Pretty, you’re even dumber.” Mick grunted.

“Price is Right rules?” Ray asked, interrupting before Snart could say anything.

Everyone raised their glasses, right as Sara stormed back out and thrust her finger at Ava’s chest while they got way too close to each other. Next to them, Amaya looked between them, looking like she was debating breaking them up or leaving them to sort it out themselves.

Nate grinned, “We’re going to hell for this, right?”

“Probably.” Zari agreed.

“Is Ava even gay?” Ray asked.

The group laughed and Zari could only say, “Really, Ray?”

Nate

nate: sooo?

zari: so what?

nate: what happened???

zari: nothing??? what r u talking about???

nate: sara and ava

nate: obviously

zari: you’re a dumbass my friend, no sara was here very ALONE ALL NIGHT

nate: fuck

we’re going to hell and we’re gonna like it

nate: i’m taking halloween!!!

ray: i got his updated bet and money down

mick: so you already lost

nate: it’s called pre-winning

nate: i’m gonna be so rich

nate: what should i do with the money???

zari: how many bets is it gonna take nate?

zari: how are you not broke after mick beat you in the drinking contest?

nate: in my defense i was drunk and foolish

nate: and just this one more

jax: is it confirmed that ava’s even coming to halloween?

zari: no

nate: ZARI

nate: plz I’ll give you anything

zari: really

nate: no

zari: i’ll ask amaya and if not i’ll invite her myself, happy?

Amaya, it turned out, had not invited Ava to the Halloween party yet.

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Amaya grinned and then frowned, “This isn’t about the bet is it?”

She’d also categorically refused to join the bet.

“No,” Zari said too quickly, “I’ll invite her.”

Amaya had narrowed her eyes and Zari knew that she could see right through her, but evidently Amaya hadn’t cared enough to stop it. Which was how Zari found herself here, psyching herself up to knock on Ava’s door during one of Sara’s shifts at the gym.

She wasn’t sure why she was suddenly nervous, Ava had always been perfectly polite to her. She and Mick had even had some positive interactions. It was just Sara.

Zari rapped on the door and shifted on the balls of her feet, as she heard movement behind the door. It was wrenched open and Ava’s expression shifted from annoyed to confused instantly.

“Zari, right?”

“Yeah,” Zari nodded and gestured at her apartment door behind her, “I wanted to invite you to the Halloween party we throw each year.”

“Oh, um,” Ava said, looking down as the beginning of a blush spread across her cheeks. “I don’t know. The barbeque was a little, um. I’m not sure that I mix super well with your group.”

Zari waved it off, “Oh don’t worry about that, everyone knows Sara can be an ass. Please come, we’ll have drinks and food and you can bring some friends.”

Ava looked like she was about to politely refuse as she wrung her hands.

“And,” Zari said, “It’s always hilarious to see what everyone pulls out of their closet to dress up as. That alone is worth it.”

“Dress up?”

“It’s Halloween,” Zari said.

Ava blinked, “I don’t have a costume. So-”

Zari stopped the door from closing, “We’re not talking Heidi Klum levels of costume, just not wearing,” Zari waved at Ava’s pantsuit, “Your normal attire. It doesn’t need to be elaborate.”

“Ummm.”

“So you’ll come, it would mean so much to Amaya.” Zari said going in for the kill. She wasn’t above using her girlfriend’s good nature.

“Yeah, sure.” Ava nodded, looking a little resigned.

“Great,” Zari turned around to walk back over, but stopped as the beginnings of an idea formed in her mind, “Actually, Amaya has an old costume that you could use if you need it, how do you feel about Xena?”

“Xena?” Ava sputtered.

“Yeah, she’s got the armor and everything.”

“I’m not sure Amaya and I are the right size.”

If she could get them to do this. “She has the wig too!”

“Um, I’ll let you know,” Ava backed away and closed the door firmly.

“Let me know!” Zari called. “I think you’d look great in it.”

She grinned to herself, as she reentered her own apartment. Now, if she could convince Sara to go as Gabrielle, she could probably con Nate out of some more cash.

---

Ava nervously fiddled with the deerstalker hat she wore as she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to tuck non-existent flyaways into it. She knew it was a little absurd to be nervous, she’d met what she assumed would be most of the attendees before, but, she winced as she thought about how that ended up. Last night, she had trouble falling asleep as she stressed over the whole situation, and had determined that since she actually liked Amaya (she wasn’t entirely sure her feelings towards Zari yet), she and Sara needed to bury the hatchet.

She was adult enough to admit that it was partially, okay, mostly her fault.

Nora rolled her eyes from the couch, resplendent in a blue sparkly dress and tiara. Ava couldn’t believe that Gary had landed on that costume of all things, but a bet was a bet.

“Where is he?” Ava grumbled.

“So eager?” Nora asked, “I thought your neighbor was a pain in the ass and the most annoying thing since Brad kept stealing your charging cables.”

“She is,” Ava answered, “but her roommates are great.”

“Hmm.”

At least if she ignored how insistent Zari was that she show up as Xena. She’d looked genuinely disappointed when Ava insisted that she had figured out a costume.

There was a rapid knock on the door and Ava wrenched it open.

“Sorry I’m late,” Gary practically fell through the entryway resplendent in a green morph suit with his face cut out, and some tiny, shiny shorts. Atop his head was a headband with bobbing red antennas.

“It’s okay.” Ava frowned at him wondering if it was too late to uninvite him. Did he know that this was a party for adults?

“I know you idiots don’t know anything about being fashionably late, but I’m classy.” Nora lifted herself off the couch, “Now let’s go, I was promised booze.”

Nora strode across the hall and pounded on the door, a faint thrum of music and conversation already filling the hallway. Ava shifted nervously with her costume as the door’s opened by a smiling Amaya, dressed as a leopard.

“Ava!” She grinned.

“Hi,” Ava said, “This is Nora and Gary, Zari said it was okay to invite some friends.”

“Of course,” Amaya ushered them in.

The apartment wasn’t completely packed, but there were a lot more people than Ava thought would be there. She examined it carefully, surprised despite her knowledge that three people lived there, that it was a lot bigger than her one bedroom. She’d gotten a few peeks of it when she had, um, been yelling at Sara, but had never actually been inside. She recognized a fair amount from around the building and barbeque and when she caught Nate’s eye he waved and gave her a thumbs up, of all things.

“Booze,” Nora grinned. There was a countertop set up at the edge of the kitchen with a variety of liquors, coolers, and glasses on it. Behind it, Sara mixed drinks dressed as what Ava could only believe was a cat. Ava swallowed as they approached and saw that the crop on Sara’s black long sleeve showed actual abs. Sara’s shorts were almost painted on, and accented by fishnet stockings. A cat ear headband wrapped up the whole look with some black whiskers drawn on Sara’s face. It was really annoying that she was so hot.

“What can I get you?” Sara asked Nora, a charming grin etched on her face.

“Wine?” Nora asked.

“See!” Ray grinned, “I knew someone would want some.”

Sara rolled her eyes as she poured a glass and handed it to Nora who was examining Ray, wearing some form of body protection painted a mix of blue and red.

“Someone of taste,” Nora batted her eyelashes at him and Ava fought back a groan.

“Oh,” Ray floundered, “I wouldn’t say that, I just want everyone to be happy. And have whatever they want. Even if it’s just water.”

Sara’s face tightened as she spotted Ava, “Ava.”

“Sara,” Ava did her best to smile. She’d told herself that she would be polite today. “I’ll have a whiskey neat, and Gary?”

Gary grabbed a seltzer from the cooler as Sara poured her a glass. Ava took it and drank a hearty sip before pulling Gary away before she said something that Sara decided to misinterpret.

That’s not entirely fair, Ava grunted to herself, she knew that previously she hadn’t exactly been on stellar behavior. For some reason, Sara always caught her when she was stressed and annoyed.

“Boyfriend ditch you?” Sara sidled up next to her, a glass of whiskey clutched in her hand.

“Boyfriend?” Ava frowned.

Sara gestured toward Gary, who was draped over a blonde man, practically drooling. The rest of Sara’s words caught up with her.

Ava choked on her drink, “Gary?!”

“Ouch for Gary,” Sara said, “He was practically drooling over you earlier.”

Ava laughed so hard half the room looked at them. She turned to a frowning Sara and barely got out, “We’re both very homosexual.”

Sara’s cheeks flushed pink, “Oh.”

“Oh my god, me and Gary?” Her eyes searched the room for Nora, but found her engaged in a deep conversation with Ray. She has half a mind to call over Gary himself, but now the man he was with was doing magic? As an adult?

“Okay, okay,” Sara said, “It’s not that funny.”

Ava raised her eyebrows as her laughter petered out.

“Fine,” Sara said, “It’s kinda funny.”

Ava shrugged, she knew that she was pretty straight passing, her lesbian or gay pride flag pin she wore on her lapel at work usually did most of the work for her. Maybe Sara had never seen her wearing it? Though Ava was pretty sure this was one of the first times Sara had seen her out of her work clothes.

“I’m bisexual,” Sara said quickly, “I’m not like, you know, a bigot.”

Ava raised an eyebrow, “I figured, you live with Amaya and Zari.”

The two were draped over each other on the couch, Zari’s head laying on Amaya’s shoulder and giving her a gentle kiss on her neck.

“Right,” Sara took a quick drink.

The music seemed to swell between them and Ava gripped her glass. This was her moment. They were being polite, even a little bit friendly, for once.

“I wanted to say sorry.”

“Sorry?” Sara blinked at her with a furrowed brow.

“I was kind of an asshole when we met.”

“Kinda?”

Ava fought back a sigh.

“Sorry,” Sara said, “You’re just really easy to rile up and it’s very hard to resist. I know I didn’t make things easy for you, and I’m sorry about that too.”

“I mean I-”

Sara held out her hand, “We’re good, thanks for apologizing, I accept. Water under the bridge and all that.”

Ava shook it, her hand tingling where flesh met flesh. She dropped Sara’s hand quickly and took a sip from her drink hoping that her cheeks weren’t blazing red.

Sara opened and closed her mouth, “You’re friends seem cool.”

Ava stared at her.

“Nora seems cool.” Sara corrected, “Gary seems, um, nice.”

Ava laughed, “What did you think about him when you thought we were dating?”

“Oh shut up,” Sara rolled her eyes.

Ava laughed and looked over at Nora who was now touching Ray’s arm as he grinned down at her. “If he hurts Nora, I swear I’ll make his life a living hell.”

“Ray?”

“No Nate,” Ava rolled her eyes. Nate was currently trying and failing to catch pretzels in his mouth thrown by someone that Ava didn’t recognize.

“Ray wouldn’t hurt a fly or, hell a spider. Or a wasp. He’d take it outside and tell us ten facts about why it’s important to the ecosystem.”

Ava narrowed her eyes, “My threat stands.”

“And you’re telling me?” Sara laughed.

Ava shifted, “Nora would kill me if I threatened him to his face.”

“Because she doesn’t need a sitter?” Sara crossed her arms with a challenging grin.

“Obviously not,” Ava rolled her eyes, “She, well, her dad sucks, and she’s dealt with a lot of bullshit over the past year. I don’t want her getting hurt because some idiot in our building is a jerk.”

Sara nodded, “I can respect that, but believe me, you have nothing to worry about with Ray.”

“Okay,” Ava said, “But I’ll kill him if he does.”

“Okay terminator,” Sara laughed.

Ava didn’t laugh and just shot her a look. Sara grinned, something sparkling in her eyes that Ava couldn’t identify. Nora finally looked over at her and Ava gave her a reluctant thumbs up, and Sara laughed and laughed next to her.

“Oh shut up,” Ava rolled her eyes but a smile graced her face.

“Are you stalking me?”

Ava’s phone dropped from her hands as her shoulder was bumped. She looked down to see, amazingly, that Sara had caught it before it fell to the ground.

“Careful with that,” Sara grinned as she handed it back.

“What?” Ava can only think to say.

Sara laughed, momentarily drowning out the sound of coffee grinders, clacking keyboards, and murmured conversations. “What brings you here?”

Ava latched onto the question before she could overthink it, “I work a block over, thought I’d try this place out during my break.” She mostly sent Gary to get her coffee when she needed a break from him, but had decided she needed a break from being cooped up in her office. She went here because it seemed nicer than the Starbucks next door to the courthouse.

“Huh, I’ve never seen you before.” Sara said and then a flash of panic crossed her face, “Here, I’ve never seen you here before.”

Ava bit her lips to keep from laughing, “I just got assigned to that courthouse, hence the whole moving thing. And usually Gary gets my coffee and there’s a lot of different ones to try.”

“Right,” Sara nodded, “I work at the gym across the street.”

Ava filed that information away. She’d wondered about Sara’s job, with its extremely bizarre hours and loud music. Ava’s name was called and Ava rushed to grab her coffee and checked the time. She would normally go straight back to the office, but there was no reason she couldn’t linger.

“You can join me,” Ava said as she reached Sara again, “If you want. I don’t want to keep you.”

Ava hurried to one of the open tables by the window.

It’s just past 10:30, the coffee shop was busy but not packed. It was filled with adults in business clothes hunched over their laptops, retirees, and, what Ava guessed were college students, who had books and papers strewn out on a couple tables. She took a sip of her latte and winced at the temperature, staring out the window instead of seeing if Sara would follow her.

It’s fine if she doesn’t, it’s not like they’re friends. Since the Halloween party, they’d only exchanged stilted greetings in the hallway. Which was better than the alternative.

Ava slid out her phone, just to double check that there’s no emergency. Zero notifications stared up at her.

“Hi,” Sara sat across from her

“Hi.”

They both sip their coffees, Sara wincing at the temperature of hers.

“So” Sara nodded.

“So.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a public defender.” Ava almost sighed in relief.

“Oh, that, uh, makes sense. I guess.” Ava quirked an eyebrow and Sara kept talking, “My sister’s a prosecutor.”

“Really?” Ava wracked her mind for another Lance. Of course, not everyone was in criminal law. And, Ava supposed, her sister could have changed her name through marriage or something. Not that Ava would give up her last name professionally for anything. She went through law school not whoever (if there ever was) her future spouse. “What law?”

“She lives in Star City,” Sara shrugged, “Assistant DA.”

“Oh wow, that’s very impressive, if my sworn rival.”

Sara laughed, throwing her head back with a grin.

“I’m sure she’d say the same about me,” Ava defended.

“I don’t know,” Sara said, “She used to work with CNRI, so she has some empathy for the whole public defender side.”

“No way, I’ve heard of them,” Ava said, “They do a lot of good work.”

“Yeah.”

They both fall into silence and sip their coffee.

“So, what do you do? You said you work at the gym?”

Sara brightened, “I’m a personal trainer and,” she cut herself off.

“And?”

“Other fitness stuff, you know, help people work out and find routines that work with them.”

“Oh, cool.”

“I actually got a new client today. They hired me because they couldn’t advance on their lifts, so I had them show me their form, just with the bar, and oh my god it was terrible,” Sara laughed. “I don’t know how they hadn’t hurt themselves, all bent over with their spine begging to snap. I think I scared half the dudes working out just getting them to stop.”

Ava let out a laugh, “I would have paid money to see that.”

Sara gave her a bright grin that had Ava swallowing down the wrong pipe.

“I’m fine,” Ava said as Sara leaned over with concern in her eyes. She knew her cheeks were flushed red, but at least she could blame that on coughing. Ava’s phone dinged and she let out a sigh, seeing a text from Gary wondering where she was.

Ava stood, “Duty calls, but, um, it was good to see you.”

“Good to see you too.”

Ava paused, trying to figure out if she should say anything else, but then hurried out with a wave as her phone dinged again.

“I thought you were only here because Ray wanted to show you the rooftop.” Ava said from her doorway. She’d been shocked when knocking had started on her door after a relatively sedate evening.

“That’s why I came over, yes,” Nora said, a faint blush on her cheeks, “But that doesn’t stop me from visiting my dearest friend, who, mind you, I noticed hasn’t ranted about her obnoxious neighbor in days. So, I’m curious.”

“There’s nothing to be curious about,” Ava defended, “We buried the hatchet at the Halloween party while you were too busy making eyes at Ray.”

Ava doesn’t really want to discuss that they were past neighbor acquaintances that seemed to only know how to needle each other, and were now, well Ava wasn’t exactly sure. The coffeeshop they’d bumped into each other at had become Ava’s favorite, and she’s started walking there almost daily. She’d see Sara most Mondays and Tuesdays. They’d started habitually grabbing a seat for the other, sometimes they’d talk, sometimes Ava would read through files or emails while she assumed Sara did the same on her phone. She’d learned that Sara was a dog person, a master of mixed martial arts, had completed a marathon on a bet and then swore to never run one again, and had met Zari and Amaya at college.

Sitting across from her had become one of her favorite ways to ward off headaches from arguing prosecutors or clients who couldn’t understand that a plea deal was their best option.

Nora’s eyes narrowed, “Is that so?”

“You don’t have to believe me,” Ava said, “But it’s true.”

“I’ll never believe you,” Nora said, “You’re a lawyer.”

“Okay, just because that one time in mafia when-”

“Don’t try to justify your betrayal!” Nora yelled. “You promised me!”

“Nora, that was two years ago!”

“It still doesn’t make up for what you did! You dragged me along just to laugh at my suffering!”

“Hey?” Sara stepped out of her apartment dressed in just tiny shorts and a sports bra, “You guys good?”

“We’re great,” Ava said quickly, “Nora was just on her way to Ray’s.”

“Oh,” Sara’s eyes danced with amusement, “Enjoy the rooftop.”

Nora looked between the two of them, her eyes narrowing. “I’m going to have a fantastic time. And I’m watching you.” She pointed at her eyes and then at Ava with a furrowed brow.

Ava sighed as Nora trotted out of the hallway and towards the stairs.

“What’s with her?” Sara asked.

Ava laughed and mumbled, “She’ll never forgive me for that stupid mafia game.”

Sara tilted her head in confusion, “Mafia game?”

“Long story,” Ava started to close the door, “Enjoy your run!”

The door slammed behind her and Ava leaned against it, her cheeks blazing pink.

---

“That was very polite of you,” Zari laughed as she fiddled with the overlay on her computer. Sara’s doing light stretches as she prepares for a workout video, wearing an outfit that can only be described as a thirst trap. Her abs are on full display and Zari isn’t prideful enough to not admit that she’s a little jealous.

Not of the work that Sara does, no Zari is very happy sitting behind the camera while Sara does burpees and flutter kicks and other terrible looking exercises. And she knows that she has a good body, one albiet that will never measure up to the muscle tone Sara has or the confidence in what photos and videos they post on the internet that are there forever. She could practically see the comments, the ones that still pop up on Sara’s photos and videos (despite Zari staring at them in absolute confusion). She’d probably look like a beached whale.

“Huh?”

Zari gestures towards the door, which Sara had just shut. “With Ava? Our neighbor I thought you hated?”

“I never hated her!”

“Do you want me to pull up the footage?”

Sara huffed and set down her phone, “She needed some flour. We have some.”

“That’s it?” Zari questioned.

If Wally wins this, she swears that she will, well, she’s not sure. Sara’s face flushed red and there’s a grin that she does not like the look of at all.

“Sara.” Zari’s eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“I know you’re hiding something, what is it?”

Sara avoided eye contact and then mumbled out something.

“What was that?” Zari asked, “The mics didn’t even pick it up.”

Sara sighed, “Fine, so, we have coffee together.”

Zari frowned, momentarily baffled. “Like regularly?”

“Yeah.” Sara said , “At that place by the gym you hate, Ava works close to there and we ran into each other there. And so, if we see each other we sit together.”

“Ran into each other? When?”

“Like two weeks ago?” Sara shrugged, “And we both have our breaks at the same time, so we’ve been taking them together. When I’m there at least.”

Zari smirked, “So you have a standing coffee date with our neighbor that you think is hot.”

“When did I say she was hot?!”

“Halloween.”

“Damn it,” Sara sighed, “Yeah, whatever, sure. It’s just because I think she’s hot, not that we’re friends now.”

“Friends?! You’ve become friends!” Zari didn’t bother to hide the delight on her face.

“Is that so bad?”

“No, no, of course not,” Zari nodded, “That’s all you are, after all.”

“Yes,” Sara said, “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Zari rolled her eyes. “I’m ready when you are.”

Sara jumped up, “Okay, let’s go.”

we’re all going to hell and we’re gonna like it

Zari: i swear to god

Zari: if you win wally

Zari: i’ll, i don’t know

Wally: 👀

Nate: wally i respect your W

Mick: youre an idiot pretty

Mick just because Zari thinks shes seeing something doesnt mean its there

Nate: can i add a bet for three days from now???

Zari: if you want to lose more money go ahead

Ray: nate you’ve already put in three other bets and lost

Nate: but i’m gonna win

Nate: this time i know its happening

Snart: you can add it as long as you aren’t within five days of anyone else

Snart: those are the rules

Nate: <picture of nate handing money to Ray>

Ray: i’ve put you down

Nate: take that suckers

Jax: nate, my bro, you are an idiot

Zari watched Sara and Ava talk to each other from across Ray and Nate’s apartment. Nate came up beside her and huffed, “Have they hooked up yet?”

“No,” Zari answered, “You think you wouldn’t know?”

To no one’s surprise (except Wally’s and Nate’s), there still hadn’t been sparks at Friendsgiving. Ava almost hadn’t gone, and only relented when Ray had told her to bring Nora, which, if that wasn’t something Zari was also tracking. Not betting on, Ray would go at his own pace, even if it confused the hell out of everyone else.

Zari could barely move and was debating falling asleep on her spot on the couch. So far, Sara and Ava had been nothing but perfectly polite, thankfully unaware that half the table was tracking their movements like a hawk.

“Great,” Nate sighed, “I don’t even know when they’d get together now. Why haven’t they yet? I totally lost.”

“You think?” Mick grunted.

“What’s stopping them?” Nate asked.

“They look really cozy together,” Ray added.

Nora wandered over just in time to hear Ray’s sentence, “Who looks cozy together?”

Ray freezed and Zari rolled her eyes, “Ava and Sara.”

She wasn’t sure she’d call it cozy, but they were sitting next to each other and talking, at one point Sara had even shown Ava something on her phone. “I’m never going to win the bet,” Nate whined.

“Because you thought they’d immediately jump each other,” Zari said, “Which I told you wouldn’t happen.”

“A bet?” Nora asked.

“Oh fuck,” Zari muttered.

“Um,” Ray swallowed and stared at the group. No one tried to help him, “We might have bet when Sara and Ava would, um get together.”

Nora looked at his scared expression and laughed, “That’s hilarious, what’s everyone’s guesses?”

Ray dug out his phone and scrolled to his note, “Nate’s guessed a number of times already, we play price is right rules.” Nora nodded as she read through the names and dates.

“Put me down for Christmas.”

“Christmas?” Zari repeated. With Sara’s birthday it was hardly a great choice, she usually went home for the holidays, but hey, if Nora wanted to give her a free $50 she wouldn’t stop her.

“It’s a $50 entry fee,” Mick grunted. “Haircut keeps track of everything.”

Nora pulled out some cash, “I’m in.”

we’re going to hell and we’re gonna like it

zari added Nora Darhk

zari: she picked christmas

jax: ouch

nora: why ouch???

jax: it’s sara’s birthday, and she goes home for an extended break usually

nora: RAY!!!

ray: i couldn’t interfere!!

ray: besides i have my own bet :)

---

Sara cursed Zari not for the first time when she saw Ava. She had glasses on, and was surrounded by some papers laid out on what had become their usual table at the coffee shop. She looked cute, squinting at some paper that Sara was sure would give herself a headache if she tried to read the first paragraph.

Ever since Zari had cornered her about finding Ava hot, Sara hadn’t been able to get it out of her head. Objectively, Ava was attractive. She was tall with gorgeous hair and somehow managed to make a pant suit look good. Sara had known that the first time she’d seen her. Most of her friends were attractive people

But she did not have a crush on her.

That was absolutely, under any circumstance, never happening.

Ava swept the papers together as Sara approached, “Hi.” A smile blossomed on her face and Sara unwittingly smiled back.

“Hey,” Sara said, her voice soft, “I didn’t know you wear glasses.”

Ava blinked for a couple moments, “Oh, right, these. There just for reading,” She blushed and folded them off their face, “I swear some prosecutors think they’ll get away with stuff if they make the font really small.” She shoved the papers into a folder, organizing them into a neat stack.

Sara took her seat and just smiled at Ava for a moment.

“Do you want to come to the New Year’s party we host? It’s all fancy and up on the roof,” Sara asked before she realized the words were coming out of her mouth.

“Oh, um, sure.” Ava blinked. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Sara took a sip of her coffee. Zari was going to kill her. She still hadn’t told Ava about the channel, and it was beginning to feel too late. Plus, will all the little clips of Sara talking about her that Zari had put at the end of videos, she was pretty sure that Ava could put it together who she was talking about.

Of course the last one had her muttering about Ava being attractive.

But New Year’s was their version of rewind, where Zari organized a video of everyone’s biggest accomplishments. And now Sara needed to convince her to not show it at New Year’s. She already knew that Zari had most of the footage prepared already.

“It’ll be great,” Sara’s voice creaked.

Stupid crush.

Fuck.

Sara peered over Zari’s shoulder as she took a sip of water. “What’s this?” Sara asked as it danced between footage of Mick setting something on fire and Ray zapping himself with some electronic piece.

“The recap video,” Zari answered as she went between the transition keyframes. “Which, about the party-”

“I invited Ava,” Sara blurted out.

Zari spun around, “What?”

“It just came out. One second I was staring at her and the next thing I knew I was asking her.” Sara said, “That’s okay, right? The others won’t be mad?”

“Definitely not,” Zari grinned.

Sara frowned at her, “Okay.”

“Ray already asked to tweak the timing a bit. So we’ll show the video earlier.”

“Okay,” Sara sighed, “Because, um, I still haven’t told her yet.”

“Why not?” Zari asked, “What’s the big deal? You make videos for a living?”

“And she’s a lawyer.”

“Do you think she’s a snob? She already willingly spends time with you.”

Sara rolled her eyes, “People get different about it? Okay?”

Zari wisely held her tongue. None of them had seen Gwen coming. Sometimes Sara still wasn’t sure that that whirlwind actually happened.

“Sara, Ava’s not going to do that. Okay? Does she strike you as someone who would willingly sit in front of a camera and spill her guts? And lie about everything on top of that for some clout? You said it yourself, she’s a lawyer, not a mostly failed influencer whose only marketable skill is public speaking and lying.”

“Ava’s is good a public speaker, right?” Sara furrowed her brow. That’s half of what lawyers did.

“No one watches courthouse proceedings,” Zari rolled her eyes.

“It just feels too late now,” Sara said, “How would it even come up? We’ve been talking for months now.”

“You’re totally overthinking this,” Zari said, “But she might have some questions with the decor at the party. I don’t think she lives under a rock that she doesn’t know what the youtube logo looks like.”

“Oh no,” Sara said, “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

Zari smirked and turned back around to the video, and Sara gripped her hands together as a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. Her mouth dropped open as Zari put on her bulky headphones even though Sara knew she wasn’t working on audio yet. The waterbottle cap shot off in Sara’s hands as the plastic crumpled.

“Hey!” Zari said, “Get the water away from here!”

In a trance Sara left and cleaned it up as her heart pattered a thousand miles an hour.

“Thank you for coming,” Sara said softly.

“What?” Ava asked as the bass thrummed around them.

“Uh, thanks for coming!” Sara yelled back.

“Thanks for inviting me! This is,” She waved at the rooftop, “Nice.”

A couple heaters blazed nearby to ensure it wasn’t freezing and Mick was already lighting various things on fire in the firepit. The color theme was still red and white, but Sara had carefully hid most of the actual youtube logos so they were in spots that Ava likely wouldn’t mill around in.

Nate was currently blasting a playlist through the speakers. When Behrad arrived they’d need to remedy that.

They’d screened the video already, Sara and Ray both bouncing as they watched it, and then, getting choked up as they saw it. Zari was something else when it came to editing. She’d included a bit where Sara ranted about Ava, and Sara could feel her cheeks turn bright red as everyone laughed.

“Thanks,” Sara nodded.

“You did this?” Ava asked.

“It was a team effort,” Sara said quickly, “But I was a part of the team.”

“She’s the captain,” Nate said as he hurried past with two drinks. They stared at him in surprise. “I wasn’t here.”

“Um,” Sara coughed, caught up in Ava’s gaze. She looked beautiful wearing a gorgeous long-sleeved blue dress that brought out her eyes. Sara loved the red pantsuit that she was wearing, but she was realizing she hadn’t really thought through the whole no sleeves thing.

The song abruptly changed, (was this Celine Dion? What the hell Nate?), and Sara suddenly realized that they’d just been staring at each other.

“Um.”

“Drinks,” Ava asked, “Are there drinks?”

“Drinks!” Sara nodded, “Yes, let’s get you something.”

She quickly turned and led Ava to the bar, passing Zari who gave her a unsubtle thumbs up. Sara tried to discreetly flip her off, but caught Ava’s eyes dancing in amusement. Why were all her friends the worst at playing wingman?

“So,” Sara swept over, “We’ve got liquor, beer, champagne? Help yourself.”

Ava poured herself a glass of champagne, “I can’t believe you didn’t let me bring anything. This is, amazing.”

String lights were draped over the whole patio, giving everything a warm, magical feel, even if there was a distinct chill in the air. Sara took a heavy sip of her own drink.

“You’re newish,” Sara shrugged, “We’re all good, we’ve been doing this for years. We have everything hammered out for who brings what.”

“And next year?” Ava asked, “I definitely won’t be new then.”

“Will you survive that long?” Sara asked, “I heard your neighbor’s a bitch.”

“She’s grown on me.” Ava smiled at her.

“Yeah,” Sara croaked out at a loss for words. Did Ava know the power of her smile? She could light up the whole damn city. Were they too close?

“Hey Cap,” Sara flinched back as Behrad came up beside him.

“Behrad,” Sara nodded, “Please go rescue the aux from Nate.”

“Already did,” He said, “And this is?”

“Ava,” Sara said, “She moved in across from me.”

“Oh, that Ava.” Behrad winked at her.

Sara stared at him, “There’s only one.”

Behrad nudged her, “Yeah.”

“Oh, Nora’s here,” Ava cut in to whatever Behrad was doing, “Nice meeting you Behrad, and see you both around. Thanks again for inviting me.”

“Of course,” Sara raised her glass and when Ava was striding away hit Behrad on the shoulder, “What the hell dude? Why were you so weird?”

“I wasn’t weird.”

“You were,” Sara downed her drink and poured herself another. “Whatever, enjoy the party.”

“You too,” Behrad winked at her.

Sara groaned as she walked away.

“One minute!” Ray yelled over the crowd, “We’ve got a minute!”

The room shuffled as everyone tried to find a partner, and Sara watched as Ray unsubtly slid next to Nora and she shared a smirk with Nate. Her eyes skittered across the rest of the crowd, trying to find Ava. Except, would that be weird?

They were friends. That was it. And maybe, just maybe, Sara had developed some inconvenient feelings. Would it be shitty to kiss her when Ava didn’t know? Stupid fucking crush, any other year she wouldn’t think twice about kissing her new hot friend.

“Hello, love.”

Sara’s mind reeled to a stop, and she stared at John Constantine. “John.”

“I noticed you were standing here alone,” He grinned.

Sara opened her mouth and closed it. “I’m, uh-” She tried to find Ava in the crowd again, “Yeah, I’m here alone.”

“Are you sure?”

Sara nodded as everyone started yelling, following along with Ray who was tracking the countdown with his atomic watch.

“Three! Two! One!”

Cries of “Happy New Year!” surrounded them, and Sara kissed John, holding tight onto his lapels. They broke apart, grinning at each other, and fireworks exploded in the air around them.

Her eyes skated over his shoulder and saw, standing stiffly in the corner, was Ava.

“No, the other left.” Zari commanded.

Sara rolled her eyes as she shifted the light over, “Good?”

“Good,” Zari nodded.

“I swear you just like to boss me around, it looks the exact same.”

“There’s a reason I’m the editor and producer.”

Nate laughed from his armchair, “It’s a good look on you Sara.”

“Shut up,” Sara rolled her eyes.

“So I noticed that you didn’t introduce our new neighbor to your mouth at New Years,” Nate continued.

“You noticed? Ew.” Sara made an exaggerated shudder.

“Sara won’t talk about it.” Zari added unhelpfully, “Though why do you know?”

“You didn’t notice because you and Amaya were in your own dark corner. You started before it was even New Years.”

Sara laughed and once she recovered, asked, “Were you just watching everyone?”

“I’m unattached, and I’ve kissed everyone before. Knew I wasn’t going to be missing out,” Nate shrugged.

“Ew.”

He pointed at her, “I’ll never forget New Year’s 2012.” He blew her a kiss that had Sara rolling her eyes.

“I wish I could.”

“Anyway,” Nate said, ”What’s the big deal? Ray didn’t kiss Nora either.”

“He didn’t?!” Sara gasped.

“Yeah,” Nate chuckled, “He was about to and then totally freaked out. Said something about the soda being shaken and left her standing there.”

“Ray!” Sara laughed.

Zari frowned at her, “How did you miss that? I knew about that.”

“Obviously she was too focused on Ava disappearing.” Nate said the last word with finger quotes.

“She did!” Sara said. They’d looked at each other and Sara had looked back at John as he made some stupid joke, and when she looked back, Ava was gone.

“I’m pretty sure she just went to the bathroom.” Nate said.

“I didn’t see her again the whole night!”

“So she was probably avoiding you.” Nate shrugged, “You kiss someone and then stare at her? That’s pretty weird.”

“How do you know that?”

Nate tapped his temple, “I see all.”

“Gross,” Zari muttered under her breath.

“Also,” Nate said, “Like an hour later after you had too many shots and I was helping you get back to your apartment you ranted about it all to me.”

“Oh,” Sara swallowed. She did not remember that. She remembered shots, and dancing, and singing loudly to a song with Zari and Amaya, but she’d figured that was all. Any other recollections weren’t worth the effort with the pounding headache she had this morning.

“As entertaining as this is,” Zari drawled, “I’m ready. You good Nate?”

“I’m good.”

“Sara sit down and shut up.” Zari said, even though Sara hadn’t said anything.

Sara slumped down in her seat and made a face, but was quiet as Nate began to read his script for the next Hero Moments video.

“Hey,” Sara felt her shoulders relax as she saw Ava sitting at their usual table. She’d spent too long last night convincing herself that Ava wouldn’t show up. They hadn’t seen each other since the New Year’s party, and their coffee da-meetings were unofficial, not planned or confirmed until they were both in the coffeeshop.

Even if Sara and Ava had sat across from each other every Tuesday like clockwork.

She’d itched to text Ava to see if she’d be there, and had only been held back by Zari laughing at her to, “Ask her out on a date already.”

“Hi,” Ava answered, face contorted in a scowl, as she looked at her phone.

“Everything good?”

“Yeah,” Ava nodded, “It’s fine. How are you?”

“Good.” Sara nodded.

Silence hung between them, and Sara fought to keep a scowl of her own face. Why was this so awkward?

“Did you have a good time at the party?” Sara asked.

“Oh, um, yeah.” Ava brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You did?” Sara let out a big sigh of relief. Ava frowned and Sara found herself continuing talking, “I didn’t mean to ditch you, not that I ditched you, but was busy doing some stuff. Organizing, you know. I kinda lost track of you near the end.”

“Sara, it’s okay,” Ava said. “It’s not like I didn’t know anyone at the party, I didn’t need you to hold my hand.”

“Right, right,” Sara nodded and took a long sip of her coffee. She’d give a lot for it to be whiskey. Her skin felt like it was crawling. Was she turning into her father?

“Why do you say that?”

Sara stared at her with wide eyes before realizing she must have said the last bit out loud.

Ava just gave a quizzical look when Sara didn’t say anything.

It came forth like a geyser, “He’s a recovered alcoholic, though I’m not sure if you ever really recover? I don’t know how that works actually. He’s sober! Has been for years. I was mostly away when it was really bad, but Laurel was there. And yeah.” Sara suddenly stopped talking and took a drink before her mind caught up with her mouth.

“Not that I think I have an alcohol problem, just that it’s always in the back of my mind, you know? Like just because I don’t think I have an issue, doesn’t mean I don’t. Or will. I guess? And like I look back and am like, is this why my parents got divorced? But like, I only heard about it after they were divorced, so I don’t think he had a problem when they were married, but what would I know? They don’t really talk about why they broke up and do I really want to know all the details? And am I doomed to make the same mistakes because I have a problem I didn’t realize?”

Ava took her hand, “I’m here if you need someone to make you accountable or anything. I know you have Zari and Amaya, but I can be the bitch who sorts you out and pours out everything and hides it all. I’ve been told I’m very good at lying if the situation calls for it.”

Sara smiled, “Thanks, I think I’m good right now. I didn’t mean to dump that all on you. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Ava said, “We’re friends.”

“It’s hard because sometimes when I’m around him I feel like I need to watch out for him like some mockery of a parent relationship. And I don’t, I think, cause he’s been good for years.” Sara took another sip, “Anyway, um, how are you parents?”

Ava snorted, “Sorry, it’s just, complicated. In a different way than yours.” She let out a big sigh and rubbed the back of her head.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s, I came out in college and they took it, bad? I guess?”

“How so?”

“They didn’t disown me or anything, they still helped me with paying for school, but they never acknowledged it. It wasn’t like they were trying to set me up with guys, not that they really did anything like that before, but it was like I suddenly became sexless to them. No interest in who I could be dating or if I was. No discussions about any of my friends. And the distance just kept growing and growing and now I talk to them like twice a year.” Ava twiddled with her cup.

“That sucks,” Sara said.

“It feels dumb to complain about that when there’s so many worse ways it could go.”

“No, don’t say that,” Sara took one of Ava’s hands and stilled the nervous twitching as she stroked tiny circles with her thumb on the back of Ava’s hand, “It sucks, and it’s a totally different kind of pain than an immediate break. You can’t really compare the two, or who has it worse.”

“I should hav-”

“Hey, you don’t owe them anything, okay? They brought you into this world and they chose this distance,” Ava’s mouth opened and Sara continued on, “And so what if you aren’t exactly reaching out? Can you sit there and tell me they didn’t cause you misery by their choices? You don’t owe them anything to try and cling to something they’ve shown you they don’t really want.”

“It is my fault too.”

Sara stared into Ava’s eyes, “If they’d reciprocated or tried, would you have too?”

Ava sat and sighed. Sara watched as she thought, her brow furrowed and making a crinkle on her forehead. Finally she looked up again and raised her half-empty cup, “To complicated parents.”

“To complicated parents.” Sara nodded as she clinked the cups together.

“So Ray,” Sara sidled up next to him in the mailroom, “I heard a story about you.”

“About me?” He frowned, “Did Nate tell you about putting the potato in the microwave, because-”

“Not that,” Sara held up a hand to stop him. “I was talking about the party.”

“The party? What about the-” He stopped himself as his cheeks flared pink. “Oh, that.”

Sara laughed, “So?”

“So what?”

“Ray, what happened? It’s obvious you two like each other.”

“I panicked! Nora was standing there and I was going to and then everyone was yelling and I just couldn’t.”

“Oh Ray.”

“Hey! It’s not like you’re much better,” Ray said. “You didn’t even talk to Ava at midnight!”

“This isn’t about me!”

“Why not?” Ray said smugly. “Everyone knows you’re totally into her.”

Sara just leveled a look at him.

Ray sighed and stared at his mail, “I just couldn’t stop thinking. I was looking at her and all I could think about was, sure she likes me now, but what about later? She’s beautiful and funny, so what’s she doing with me? You know my track record with relationships, it’s not like any of them ended on happy circumstances.”

Sara laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. She didn’t know Ray when Anna died, but she’d watched the disasters of Felicity and Kendra firsthand. “So you’re just going to sabotage every possible relationship you’ll ever have?”

“No. I just,” He sighed again.

“You should talk to her,” Sara said, “I’m sure she has some similar fears. And, I bet she’s getting some mixed signals from you, so it’s not like she’s going to broach anything.”

“Mixed signals!?”

“Ray, you ditched her at midnight.”

“Oh no.” Ray said and then raced out the room.

“Bye,” Sara laughed to the empty room.

---

“Nora?” Ava opened the door, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

Ava tried to not fidget in her wrinkled suit and messy hair. Work had been long this week, and showed no signs of slowing down. She had been trying to convince herself that the microwaveable dinner sitting in her freezer sounded appetizing before passing out for the night.

“Does it help that I brought dinner?” Nora held up a bag, “From your favorite Thai spot.”

“I’ll marry you,” Ava guided her in.

Nora laughed and deposited the bag on her table, pulling out of the containers. “Gary mentioned that it’s been a rough week. And I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Ava said, and because she knew what was next, “I’m not trying to dodge your texts.”

“I know, because Gary told me. If he didn’t work with you neither of us would have any idea where you disappear to.” She leveled Ava a look.

“Sorry,” Ava said sheepishly.

“All I ask, and that you text me once a week so I know you’re alive.”

“I haven’t missed a whole week!”

“Not yet,” Nora said.

Ava moaned as she took her first bite. She closed her eyes and let the flavors wash over her tongue. “Have I mentioned recently you're the greatest friend in the world?”

“Not recently.” Nora grinned.

“You’re the greatest friend in the world.”

“Thank you,” Nora preened. She took a tentative bite as Ava inhaled her own food.

“So,” Ava said, “What’s up?”

“Ray invited me for coffee.”

“Oh are we talking to Ray again?”

Nora blushed, ducking her head to look at her fingernails, “He asked me out.”

“Oh thank god.” Ava said.

Nora laughed, “Yes, we talked about some things and then he asked me out. I’m excited, he’s taking me out tomorrow night.”

“You should be excited.” Ava grinned and tried not to think about the state of her own love life. She thought Sara and her were going somewhere, but now it felt like it’s all in her head. “You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”

“You just have to answer your texts.” Nora leveled a stare.

Ava laughed, “Okay, okay, fair enough. I promise, I will be waiting patiently by my phone for minute by minute updates.”

“You’ll be lucky if I give you hour by hour updates.”

“Nora, how will I survive?”

“Oh shut up,” Nora said.

Ava laughed as she finished the rest of dinner. “Did you find out about his mysterious job?”

Nora’s eyes widened and she almost spit out her water, “Oh my god! I didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Nora pulled out her phone and slid it to Ava.

Ray was sitting in front of his desk with several electronic pieces around him. Ava recognized a soldering iron, a circuit board, and wires, but the rest was unknown to her. She watched as the camera switched to his hands and he accidentally zapped himself.

Her brow furrowed as she looked back up, “Um? This is just him fiddling with electronics? Is he an electrician?”

“Look at the views.”

Ava scrolled down and felt her mouth drop open, “2.3 million?! What! How?”

Nora nodded, “This is his job, he has hundreds of these. Most of them have over a million views and he always seems to zap himself. There’s a whole subchannel that compiles all the times he almost dies.”

Ava handed over the phone wordlessly. “He makes online videos?”

“Yeah,” Nora tapped a couple things, “Look at this.”

The phone screen now showed Sara Lance, wearing a tiny sports bra and shorts that seemed to be spray painted on, doing burpees. Ava felt her mouth drop open.

“Yep.” Nora said contently.

Ava watched the video until it ended and the phone shook as she handed it back. “Um.”

“Her channel name is White Canary.” Nora said as she stood and began packing up the bag.

“Right.”

“Apparently most of the building are youtubers,” Nora said. “That’s how they know each other.”

“I thought Sara worked at a gym?” Ava said. Her brain felt like it was moving through molasses.

“I think she does, but part-time.”

Ava blinked and the image of Sara smirking, with a faint sheen of sweat making her body glow filled her mind. She swallowed heavily.

“I’ll let you peruse.” Nora said.

“I’m not going to peruse!” Ava said hotly.

Nora lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll text you tomorrow about outfits so you better respond.”

“I’ll respond!”

Ava twiddled with her cup nervously, wondering if Sara would walk in and know. Just see it on her face that Ava had spent way too long watching her do various exercises in clothes that left just enough for Ava’s imagination. Ava wouldn’t ever tell Nora how long she spent watching through them or how many she’d watched. It had been like being sucked into a trance.

Sara was objectively hot.

She’d known this.

But she hadn’t known that Sara was way sexier than she’d ever imagined. And that she let the entire world see with publicly accessible videos. The only thing that eased Ava’s twinkling guilt was that half the comments seemed to be other lesbians drooling over Sara. Ava at least had the dignity to keep her thoughts to herself.

clexalives324: sara could step on me and i’d say thank you

kat_lee: does she know that none of us do the workouts and just watch it for her

itsjes444: i want to lick her abs so bad

tothequeers: can you hate and love a mysterious neighbor? asking for a friend

There was one thing that puzzled her about it all though.

Sara slid into the seat across from her, “Hi.”

“What’s with the neighbor thing?”

“Um?”

“Sorry,” Ava blushed, trying to still her nervous hands. “It’s just I don’t really get it and obviously we’re neighbors but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Neighbor thing?” Sara’s brow furrowed. “I’m totally lost.”

Oh right. Ava stared into her coffee as she mustered up the right words, “Nora showed me your YouTube channel,”

Sara sputtered, “What?”

“White Canary?” Ava said, “That is you right? Not some identical twin that has the same name?”

A flush of red flashed across Sara’s cheeks, “No, yeah, that’s me. Sorry for not telling you-”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Ava waved her hand away. It wasn’t like Sara had spent hours staring at her friend's body and having very dirty thoughts. And then found a couple favorites and rewatched those late into the night. “I’m sorry if it was private and Nora wasn’t supposed to show me. I can pretend to forget?”

“No, no, don’t do that. It’s just,” Sara shrugged, “I don’t know, a little embarrassing? I mean you have a law degree and I make internet videos of me doing pushups.”

“Embarrassing?” Ava barely kept herself from laughing, “Not to me. If anything it’s inspiring with how much work you put in.” For working out and, other things. “I just, the neighbor thing, I keep seeing mentions of it and little things here and there but I feel like I’m totally missing something.”

She needed to know.

“Oh,” Sara’s face turned fully red, “That. So you’ve probably seen at the end of videos how Zari always likes to insert random slice of life clips. Like bloopers and stuff from when we were filming, and I may have ranted about, um, you a lot.”

“About me?” Ava asked, her heart beating a million miles a minute. “I’m the neighbor?”

Sara nodded her head.

“Oh.” Ava said, feeling her own face heat up.

“I can get Zari to take down any references-”

“No, no,” Ava said as her thoughts raced. “As long as my name isn’t in it I don’t care. I highly doubt anyone at my office watches your videos. Not to be mean, I mean,” Ava winced, “I-”

“It’s okay,” Sara gave a little smile. “I understand.”

“Good.” Ava said and looked at her empty coffee cup, trying to think of anything. Her phone let out a series of beeps and Ava sighed, “I have to go.” This week was turning out busier than last’s.

“Okay.” Sara nodded.

With one last look, Ava got up and exited the coffeeshop.

Ava yawned as she dragged herself up the stairs. The marathon of work wasn’t finished, but she had finally broken through the wall. Tomorrow, she could sleep in. And Monday? She could leave on time.

She hadn’t seen anyone this week but her clients and coworkers. She’d dutifully texted back Nora on the few breaks she got, to hear about the blossoming relationship between her and Ray. She wanted to go to the coffee shop, but she was simply too busy to leave the office that long. Gary had fetched her coffee twice, and with some subtle prodding, he insisted that he hadn’t seen Sara.

At home, she’d barely dragged herself to her bed most nights (and she wasn’t going to talk about Wednesday, when she woke up with the creases from her couch that didn’t fade for a whole hour).

Her stomach growled at her and Ava prayed the takeout she ordered was already waiting at her door. She staggered up the last step and blinked several times as she entered the hallway. Was that?

Zari was pounding on her door, “I know you’re in here Ava! I grabbed the food from the delivery guy! You have to come out!”

“Um,” Ava said.

Zari wheeled around and clutched her chest, “Ava!”

“Yeah.” Ava said. “I’m here.”

“Oh,” Zari looked down at the bag she was holding. “Here.”

Ava took it and nodded, feeling her head throb as she fumbled with her keys, “What’s the emergency?”

Zari opened and closed her mouth a couple times before a look of determination came over her, “Look, Ava. I liked you?”

“Liked me?”

“Can we talk inside?”

Ava got her door open and wished she hadn’t. Her garbage was overflowing with takeout containers, mail scattered all over the table, dishes overflowing in the sink, and there was a pile of clothes on her couch that she needed to take to the dry cleaners. Zari looked at her expectantly and Ava winced, “Sure. Sorry about the mess.”

Zari waved her off as she walked in.

Ava gave a light smile as she placed the bag onto her table, brushing a pile of mail away, “So, what is it?”

Zari crossed her arms, “Why are you ignoring Sara?”

“What?”

“All this week,” Zari said, “You haven’t seen her once.”

“So? I’ve been busy, not ignoring her.” Ava crossed her own arms.

“You haven’t answered her texts. You’ve missed your little coffee dates. I’d call that ignoring her.”

“Did she send you here?”

“No! She’s my friend, and I know you learned about the videos. Seems very coincidental that all of the sudden you can’t make time for her. Are you that mad about being mentioned in them? I’m the editor, it’s on me! Don’t take it out on Sara.”

Ava pinched the bridge of her nose, “Zari, I’m not ignoring Sara.”

Zari clenched her fists by her face like she was imagining shaking Ava. “So what are you doing?”

Ava gestured at herself and at the apartment, “Work has been insane. The only friendly face I’ve seen this week is Gary.” She stared at Zari and repeated, “Gary. I’ve barely had time to message Nora back about everything going on with Ray. I’ve been working, eating, and passing out each night.”

Zari looked around as if the mess was registering on her for the first time, “Oh.”

“Look the videos are kinda funny.” Ava felt a blush spread on her cheeks, thinking about how Sara’s rants about her neighbor had turned from being annoyed to talking about her being frustratingly hot. “And I’m not trying to ignore anyone or make them feel ignored, I’m just exhausted. I’m sure I look terrible right now, I’m running on like five cups of espresso and a courthouse sandwich.”

“You do.”

“Okay, you didn’t have to say it.”

Zari shrugged as if to say, sorry, not sorry. “I just, I hate to see my best friend suffering like this, okay? Thinking the girl she likes hates her.”

“I don’t hate her.”

“I know, but look at it from Sara’s view. You randomly ghost her after you find out she ranted about you online?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Zari said, “And Sara’s in no state to confront you.”

“Is she okay?”

Zari bit her lip, “She’s, you know,”

“I know?”

“She’s a bit heartbroken,” Zari winced, “I said it, okay? She likes you and thinks you don’t like her back and is embarrassed and sad.”

“Oh.” Ava felt her heart drop and her ears buzz.

“Yeah, so just talk to her okay?”

Ava nodded unconsciously. Sara was heartbroken? Because of her? But, that, what?

“I’ll let you eat and sleep,” Zari said, “Sorry for bursting in and being kinda of a bitch, but only a little bit.”

Ava nodded, barely registering the click of the door behind her.

Heartbroken about her?

---

A loud rapping on the door interrupted Sara from the monologue she was half-heartedly going through. She frowned at the door, all the Legends knew this was their designated filming time, and it wasn’t like Sara or Zari would have told any of them it was canceled.

Unless Zari truly had that little faith in her.

“Just answer,” Zari said when the banging came again as she fiddled with her computer, some expression that looked like a cross between a smirk and a manic grin fighting on her face. She clenched and unclenched her fist nervously and Sara frowned. Why was Zari nervous?

She let out a heavy sigh and twisted around, stomping as she went, and flung open the door. “What?”

Ava stared right back at her, and both of them looked at each other, soaking in the view. It had been 11 days since she’d last seen her. Ava’s hair was down, and it looked like she’d recently showered. An ill fitting t-shirt, and, Sara was shocked to see, sweats made up her outfit.

“Is this a bad time?” Ava asked.

“Ye-”

“Now’s great!” Zari called from further into the living room. Sara turned back and frowned at her, ignoring the thumbs up and gaping grin. What was she so happy about? Now instead of imagining how Ava was going to reject her, she got to witness it live?

“Okay, um,” Ava twisted her hands together, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Sara felt a wave of dread wash back over her. She thought she’d exorcized it this morning when she’d finally showered. So here it was.

“It’s good to see you.”

Sara lifted an eyebrow. She knew she looked like a mess. This close up and it was obvious makeup was caked on for their shoot to cover the bags under eyes and general lack of glow. Despite her shower, her hair was flat and greasy looking, and Sara felt like she’d shrunk two inches in defeat.

Ava peered around, “Look, Sara, I haven’t been ignoring you.”

“Ignoring me?” Sara crossed her arms, “I haven’t noticed that you were gone.”

Ava’s mouth pressed into a thin line and her eyes sparkled with amusement. Sara hoped she couldn’t hear Zari’s snort in the background.

“I saw your texts.” Ava said.

Sara looked down at her feet. “Oh.”

She did her best to keep a wince off her face.

“And listened to your voicemails.”

Sara closed her eyes as embarrassment washed through her. She should have listened to Amaya and let her take her phone away.

“And I missed you too.” Ava laid a gentle hand on Sara’s shoulder.

“You have?” Sara hated the squeak in her voice.

Ava nodded and took a step forward, “Yeah, I missed coffee that is actually fit for human consumption, but I mostly missed you. I only had clients and Gary for company.”

Sara smiled despite herself, “That can be your punishment then.”

Ava smiled, “Yeah, and, um, full transparency, I watched all of your videos.”

Sara felt her mouth drop open and throat dry.

“And I have to say the sentiment, ‘Why is she so hot and I’m so awkward????’ applies the other way too.”

Sara’s mind went blank. Her sluggish brain tried to comprehend what she was saying. Wait. Oh.

Oh.

“Really?” She breathed out as her heart kicked into overtime.

“Really,” Ava nodded. “Does the, um sentiment still stand on your end?”

Sara nodded.

“Good,” Ava said and circled her hands around Sara, resting on her shoulders. Sara grabbed her waist. “I’m going to kiss you now, is that okay?”

Sara nodded again.

Ava stroked her cheek and leaned closer, and suddenly their lips were together. She was dreaming. That was the only explanation. She died and was in heaven. Was this really happening?

Ava’s lips were softer than she ever imagined and fireworks exploded in Sara’s stomach. As they broke apart, she accidentally let out a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a moan.

“FINALLY!” They jolted from each other as Zari’s voice echoed around them. Sara had completely forgotten she was there.

“Zari!” Sara frowned back at her.

Zari was doing some terrible dance, “This is going to win me a lot of money.”

“Win you money?!” Sara repeated and noticed the camera was now pointed in their direction.

All the color drained from Zari’s face. “Oh, um, well, you see-”

“She can’t get into my apartment,” Ava commented absentmindedly.

“Oh,” Sara said, a grin breaking out onto her face.

“Hey! Wait, Sara, we haven’t finished th-”

The rest of Zari’s voice was cut off by the two apartment doors closing.

#avalance #legends of tomorrow #my writing: avalance #my writing: lot #my writing #mine

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