#anyway hope you had a wonderful birthday weekend; hope this year will make you happier (and clownier [honk honk]) than any before it

[invisibleraven]

Birthday Boy Blues

Happy Birthday @innytoes!

It's Reggie's birthday, and he doesn't exactly feel like celebrating.

Inny, sorry for the eleventh hour angsty fic, but I hope you enjoy it and have had an amazing day! ❤❤❤

On AO3!

The thing about being a ghost is that Reggie isn’t sure there’s much point in celebrating their birthdays any more. They haven’t aged in twenty five years, and even as Julie grows up, they don’t seem to change. Reggie’s not sure how okay he is with staying seventeen forever, but he doubts he’d be much happier as a forty something year old man, staring down middle age and mediocrity in the face.

So when it is close to the day that would mark Reggie’s eighteenth? Forty third? birthday, he decides not to mention it. Out of sight, out of mind kind of thing. It’s not like he can really celebrate anyways. They still can’t eat, so cake is out. Any money they earn from gigs goes to Julie, well to her dad, since the guys don’t need much, and Julie has actual, like bills to pay. Thus neither Alex or Luke would have the money to buy him a gift, and once Ray found out they were haunting the studio, no stealing became a rule. So no presents to open.

Sure, they could play games, or watch movies, but they do that every other weekend, and Reggie doesn’t feel like donning a stupid paper hat to make it feel more celebratory. Better just to… not bother. Reggie didn’t want the fuss when it just made him feel worse about not really ageing any more.

Luckily, Luke was at his parent’s house today, and that meant he wouldn’t be in the mood to do much else but sulk once he got back. Which Reggie always tried to help with, his heart taking flight every time he managed to coax a smile on those days. Plus, Luke was horrid about remembering things like birthdays. Alex usually had to remind him a few days in advance, and their afterlives had been so fraught with peril thus far that Reggie’s had thankfully slipped all of their minds.

Reggie went off in search of Alex though, curious as to what he was up to. Hey, just because he didn’t want to acknowledge what day it was didn’t mean he didn’t want to spend quality time with his friends alright? Except when he wandered into the studio, he found Alex asleep on the couch, Willie blanketed on top of him, long fingers tangled in his hair.

Alex snuffled, blinking his eyes open, peering at Reggie. “Hey Reg,” he whispered, then smiled fondly down at Willie as the ghost let out a soft snuffly sound.

“Hey Lexie, didn’t mean to wake you, go back to your nap,” Reggie said. Alex gave him a gracious smile, his eyes sliding closed once more, and though Reggie longed for that sweet sort of intimacy, the chance of him finding another ghost their age who didn’t work for Caleb seemed pretty slim. And the heartbreak of falling for a lifer…. He gave a tiny, melancholy sigh, then tossed the light blanket that lived in the studio over Alex and Willie before shutting the door quietly after him.

Reggie wondered what Julie might be up to, and began wandering up towards the house, hands in his pockets as he walked. Only to have Julie slam into his chest, the two of them groaning and then giggling as they righted themselves. "Hey little darlin', where's the fire?"

"Flynn and Carrie are at it again so I have to mediate before someone ends up in the hospital… or jail." Julie sighed, but then smiled up at Reggie. "I'll see you later cariño, have a good day!"

Reggie waved as Julie rushed off, valiantly trying to ignore the flush on his cheeks whenever she used a sweet Spanish nickname for him. He had no clue what it meant, because he had slept through more of high school Spanish than not. But he figured Julie wouldn't call him something mean so it had to be sweet. Which made it all the harder to ignore how his heart ached when she used it.

No, nope, not getting into that. Reggie shook those thoughts away, walking further up to the house. He knew Carlos was at baseball with his aunt, but maybe Ray was free.

However, when he got into the house, he saw Ray hunched over his computer, stress lines on his face as he talked into his phone about re-shoots. Reggie shimmered into invisibility before Ray could catch sight of him, not wanting to distract him from his work. Reggie still wasn't sure why or how the Molina's could see and touch them, but not anyone else unless they were playing.

But it meant that if he wanted to chat with Ray, he could. Or if he just wanted to vent without bothering the man, he could do that too.

"Hey Ray," Reggie said, hopping into the chair across from the man, letting his legs dangle over the side. He blew out a breath, gaze drifting to the ceiling. "It's my birthday today. Not that it counts for much since ya know…" he waved over himself, indicating his ghostly state. "I always dreaded turning eighteen you know? Funny how fate has a way of playing with you."

He gave a sideways glance to Ray once more, seeing his phone finally down, though the man still looked troubled by the call. "See, my folks always said… that once I was eighteen, I'd be on my own. Good luck, but I wouldn't be their responsibility any more. Not that they were overly responsible for me since I was like… twelve. And I was mostly living in the studio with Luke come that last year. Couldn't put up with the fighting. So this was a birthday I wasn't overly looking forward to."

Reggie twiddled his thumbs, musing. "I bet you threw great birthdays for Julie and Carlos. Balloons, cake, the whole works. I never had that. Sure, MeeMaw did all right back in Georgia, but once we moved here… the guys bought me pizza or we had a Star Wars marathon. Which I loved, don't get me wrong, but it never felt any different than any other day. Maybe they just thought I would do something special with my family like they did. Kind of too late to wonder about now."

"I guess," Reggie whispered, trying to ignore the burning wetness of his eyes, "what I always wanted was to feel like part of a family who would take this day to actually celebrate me being born."

Reggie sighed once more, then eased himself up off the chair. "I think I'm gonna head to the beach, maybe stay and watch the sunset. Thanks for listening Ray." With that he poofed out.

Ray looked up from his computer, priding himself on being a good actor, and Reggie's inability to know when he was actually invisible or not. Because now he knew just what to do for Reggie's present.

~

Reggie sat on the dunes, letting the sound of the surf and the warmth of the slowly setting sun calm him. Even though he grew up on a farm, thousands of miles from the nearest ocean, he always felt at home on the beach. He was a natural swimmer, letting the waves embrace him when he was alive, loving the salty tang and chill.

But now, it gave him little comfort, just a big vast emptiness reminding him of the nothingness that weighed down on him. A sudden displacement of air next to him drew him out of his melancholy.

"Hey babe," Luke said, his voice full of cheek. "We've been looking for you everywhere."

"I've been here."

Luke hummed as he leaned back, closing his eyes and Reggie watched as the flaming colours of the sky made him glow a golden hue. "Can't say I blame you, it's beautiful. You always did love the beach."

"One of my favourite places in the world after the farm, and the studio with the band," Reggie replied.

"Well that's where we're headed. Band is waiting, come on!" Luke said, jumping up and offering Reggie a hand. Reggie was hesitant, not sure he wanted his sour mood to affect his friends. But Luke was there, and Reggie was never able to deny him anything, so he slid his palm into Luke's and found himself pulled into his strong arms in a flash. Then one disorienting moment later, they were in front of the studio doors.

“Whoa, head rush,” Reggie moaned, and Luke just smirked before pushing open the doors.

“SURPRISE!”

Reggie jumped and saw his friends standing there grinning. The studio was filled with balloons and streamers, a large birthday banner hanging over the piano. “Y-you guys, what is all this?”

Luke slung an arm over his shoulder. “What, did you really think we’d forget your birthday babe?” He then pecked a small kiss to Reggie’s cheek, and whispered into his ear, “Alex totally had to remind me, and then Julie heard and well… now we’re having a party.”

Julie bounced over, her grin a mile wide. “Are you surprised? Do you like it? Luke told me you never had a big party, so I decided to go all out. Eighteen is a big one!” She then popped up and pressed a kiss to his other cheek, dragging him towards the couch, and plopping him down on it.

“You guys really didn’t have to…” Reggie said, overwhelmed by the display, eyes flitting from the decorations to the small pile of presents to… “Is that cake?”

Alex grinned. “Yeah, Willie smuggled the stuff from the club, turns out it’s the ingredients not the place, but we didn’t want to chance it for anything less than a special occasion. Flynn and I made it for you, so it is actually safe to eat.” He levelled a look at Luke.

“Hey!” Luke gave an indigent shout. “I can bake okay!”

“Dude you almost burned down your house making microwave soup, I do not trust you in a kitchen,” Alex retorted, and Willie giggled from where he was curled into Alex’s embrace.

“It’s also safe for lifers to eat,” Willie said. “No soul stealing or anything.”

“Well that’s good because it looks delicious and I would be miserable if I didn’t get to try a piece,” Ray said. “Now, I do have one gift to give Reggie before we eat, if that’s okay.”

“You got me a gift?” Reggie exclaimed.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I mijo? It’s your birthday. I always get my kids gifts for their birthdays.”

“K-kids?” Reggie asked, his voice quiet and reed thin.

Ray grinned, crouching down in front of Reggie. “Reggie, you know I see you boys as my kids. Technically I guess I’m your legal guardian, or I would be if not for the whole ghost thing. But… if you want to be a part of this family, my family, you know I would love that. In whatever way possible.” He shot a look at Julie at that, and she blushed, but Reggie couldn’t really question that.

“You mean I could be Reggie Molina?” he squeaked.

Ray smiled brightly, “I would love it if you were. Even if it’s not official, you can be a Molina from now on.”

Reggie grinned, but then felt hands slip into his, Luke on one side, Julie on the other. “We have a present too, if you want it, cariño.”

Reggie nodded, finding his head turned towards Luke. Luke, whose ears had a pinkish tinge to them as he lowered his face to Reggie’s. “Happy Birthday babe,” he whispered, then slid their lips together in a toe curling, mind melting kiss. Reggie sank into it, letting himself revel in the blissful feeling of a kiss that mattered, that felt so full of love and promise. He blinked his eyes open as Luke pulled back, and gave him a shy smile.

Julie then turned his face to hers, with a sweet, tender touch. “Feliz cumpleaños cariño,” she said, her voice quiet and sensual, then brought him down into an equally earth shattering kiss, and Reggie was sure he was dreaming. There was no way that this was happening right? He had fallen asleep back on the beach and the universe was teasing him with images of what he truly wanted. But when Julie pulled back, biting her lower lip, a faint flush on the apples of her cheeks, Reggie knew this was real.

“B-but Julie, you and Luke...”

“Love you too. I thought we were pretty obvious honestly,” Luke replied.

“But we’re ghosts!” Reggie exclaimed. “Like, rattle chains and go boo ghosts!”

“That’s a hurtful ghost stereotype actually,” Willie piped up, and Flynn was holding her hand over her mouth and giggling, though only Julie, who was glaring at her, seemed to know why.

“You guys are not typical ghosts though. You can be seen and touched by some people, who’s to say that won’t change in the next few weeks? I have no idea how our love for each other did what it did, but I think…” Julie stopped, then took a breath in. “I know that the more I love you, the more… unghost like you become.”

“My parents can see me now dude, it’s true,” Luke said. “We can talk about it later. Right now, what do you say? You, me, Julie, we make a pretty sweet trio.”

Reggie looked at them, their expectant faces, and let a smile break forth on his face. “I say I love you both very much, and maybe after we have cake, we could talk about a date?”

Julie grinned, and motioned for Carlos to bring the cake forward, and Ray swooped in to light the candles, and hit the lights. All of them together sang to Reggie, and while he still wasn’t a big fan of birthdays, this might go down as his best ever.

“Go ahead mijo, blow out your candles and make a wish,” Ray said.

Reggie once more looked around the room, taking in his friends, his new partners, his family, and grinned before blowing out the candles.

“What did you wish for babe?” Luke asked, snuggling into Reggie’s side.

“You’re not supposed to tell, they won’t come true if you do!” Julie admonished from his other side.

Reggie just let himself be tugged further into their embrace, and said with the biggest smile. “I didn’t make one. I have everything I could ever wish for right here.”

[lisbonsteresa]

You’re Once (In Any Lifetime)

🥳 🥳 HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY( @eddiediaz)!!!!  🥳 🥳  (little late is better than never fingers crossed. a little something for my drew crew bestie who i have never yelled at, cajoled into watching a show, or threatened with a knife emoji. hope you like the...kind of au of the au of the - let’s just call it the 7th generation of an au 😘)

                                 ___

“She’s lingering again.”

“Call a spade a spade Bess.” George grumbled as she entered the kitchen with an armful of dirty dishes. “At this point she’s loitering.”

Nick glanced up from where he was reviewing that month’s order form at the prep table with a slight grin. “Don’t know if you can go that far. I mean she did pay for her dinner.”

“Oh please,” George shot back with a roll of her eyes. “It’s been 45 minutes since she paid her bill and she’s still nursing that iced tea like it’s a long island.” As if she knew they were talking about her, the redhead in the corner booth looked up from her glass and gave a small, unsure smile across the sparsely-seated dining room in their direction. She did not receive any in response.

“What I don’t understand is why she keeps coming here, of all places. I mean it’s not like our food is good.” An offended grunt came from Bess’s right, and she spun around to see the Claw’s cook pressing a burger to the grill with a wounded expression. 

“Oh no, Charlie,” she backtracked frantically, hands held out in a feeble attempt to placate the older man. “I just meant compared to what they must have at the yacht club.” 

Charlie gave a noncommittal shrug, apparently forgiving the unintended slight before moving down the line where he hopefully missed Bess’s whispered  “Or anywhere else…”

“Guys, come on.” Ace cut in, voice calm and measured even as he scrubbed determinedly at a rusting lobster pot. “It’s not like we don’t have other customers keeping us here. What’s so bad about Nancy lingering a bit?” 

“The fact that she’s not just ‘Nancy’, Ace.” George admonished as she tipped her dishes into the full sink in front of him, raising the water level until it sloshed dangerously close to the edge. “She’s Nancy Hudson. You know how the hill-toppers treat us townies -”

“When they’re not wheeling and dealing in back rooms to screw us over while they’re sitting pretty in their ivory towers.” Nick interrupted, his attention still on the sheet in front of him.  

“Exactly.” George gave her boyfriend an appreciative look as she leaned up against the prep table next to him. “And now what, I’m supposed to be happy that one of them deigned to grace us with her presence?” 

“Yes, and I had to take her hill-topper order.” Bess lamented, pouting near the line window until she noticed Nick looking at her with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“You know you’re a hill-topper, right Bess?”

She turned towards him, her expression scandalized and defensive. “That is completely different, Mr. Multimillionaire.” (Nick held his hands up in amused defeat). “I only just became a Marvin; I wasn’t born and raised a hill-topper, unlike some people.” 

“Besides,” she glanced back across the dining room with an insulted wrinkle of her nose, “the Hudsons and Marvins are long-standing enemies; it was humiliating to have to serve one of them.”

“The Hudsons and Marvins, maybe, but not you and Nancy.” Ace countered, leaning the lobster pot against the back of the drying rack before reaching into the increasingly murky water to start on George’s dishes. “You two barely know each other.”

Bess paused, playing with her necklace and staring into space as if considering this fact for the first time. “Well, I guess that’s true…"

“And she’s been spending her gap year here in town volunteering and helping Hannah Gruen set up a scholarship with the Historical Society.” Ace continued with a glance over his shoulder at Nick.

“I mean, that’s great, but -” Nick stopped, eyes narrowing “wait, how do you know that?”

Ace’s hands paused their motions, just for a fraction of a second, before he resumed rinsing a plate and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Must’ve seen it in the paper somewhere.” He muttered offhandedly. “And -”

“And nothing.” George cut him off, crossing her arms across her chest with a scowl. “A few good deeds don’t change the fact that this time next year she’ll be 300 miles away with a full ride to some Ivy League school just because of her last name, and the rest of us will still be stuck here cleaning grease traps in an old clam shack.” Ace’s shoulders tensed more and more with every word that left her mouth. “And since when did you start defending Hudsons anyway?”

“I’m not defending the Hudsons, I’m defending Na-” Ace spun around to face the room and froze, realizing that his raised voice had turned three sets of interested eyes in his direction. (Well, four, if you counted Charlie.) “I’m not defending anybody.” he continued after a beat. “I’m just saying you can’t help who your family is, and at least she’s trying to be better than hers. It wouldn’t kill you guys to try and see that.” 

No one said anything - this was the most upset any of them had seen Ace get since the time that nor'easter put a tree branch through Florence’s windshield. “Anyway, dishes are done; I’m gonna take my break.”

He tossed the towel that had been slung over his shoulder down onto the counter and stomped down the steps towards the storeroom. The back door slammed shut a moment later, and the others turned back towards the dining room to see that Nancy had at last abandoned her iced tea and was heading towards the exit with the air of someone in a rush trying very hard to appear relaxed.

“So…” Bess began, her eyes flicking back and forth between Nancy’s booth and the door. “when do we tell him we saw them making out by the loading dock last Thursday?”  

“I say we make him sweat for a bit.” George said with a shrug as she straightened and headed out to clear the table. “Serves him right for thinking he could keep something like this from us.” Bess and Nick shared an amused smile behind her, then got back to their own work.

If any of them noticed that Ace arrived back from his break 20 minutes late with his hair in disarray, they kept it to themselves.

                                   _____

“Great. I’m going to be picking seaweed out of my hair for a week. Thanks a lot Bess.”

Bess paused her efforts to wring out her dress to shoot an incredulous look in George’s direction. “I’m sorry, how is this my fault!?”

“It’s my birthday George!” Came the response in a mocking imitation of the Brit’s accent. “Just close for inventory George! It’ll be fun George!” 

“Well excuse me for trying to enjoy a nice beach day!” Bess shot back. “How was I supposed to know we’d be attacked by that kelkey-whatever??”

“Kelpie.” Nick corrected, stopping the bickering for a moment while all three turned their attention towards the redhead kneeling in the sand and frantically running her hands over a soaking wet and slightly dazed Ace. “That’s what you called it, right?”

The second Nancy realized she was being addressed, her hands dropped from Ace’s body like they had been burned. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, a kelpie. They’re Scottish horse spirits that drag their victims underwater and devour them. That silver necklace Bess had was its bridle, and -” she paused, looking around to see the others staring blankly at her. 

“Sorry.” Her voice sounded almost sheepish. “I volunteer over at the historical society a lot, and there’s some…interesting stuff in their archives.” Another moment passed. No one’s expression changed.

“…Anyway the bridle can be used to control it, so I think it attacked you to try and get it back. And since you didn’t know what it was, it just seemed easier to grab it and toss it then try and explain why it was making the giant horse spirit angry.” She finished with a weak grin, as if she’d been explaining the weather and not the most terrifying thing most of them had ever seen. 

No one spoke for a while longer, and then Bess’s quiet  “Oh.” broke the silence. “Well…okay. For a second I thought you just really didn’t like my necklace.” 

The tension broken, the others looked at her with varying levels of amusement before she let out a gasp and turned to address Nancy directly. “Wait my cousin Cassidy gave me that last night! You don’t think…”

“I don’t think she knew what it was.” Nancy replied with an almost fond smile. “When the historical society got the request to put the necklace in one its deposit boxes, the record just said it was a Marvin family heirloom; brought over aboard the Governance.”

“And the kelpie followed it all the way here?” Nick asked, eying Nancy sideways as he tried to shake water out of his ear.

She shrugged. “There are some records that say kelpies are bound to follow their bridles, wherever they go. They can’t leave the water though, so it could have gotten into the bay and then…gotten lost, I guess.” Bess was already nodding along as if everything Nancy was saying made perfect sense. “We didn’t realize the necklace was anything out of the ordinary until Cassidy came to request it and Hannah thought she recognized it from her research.”

“Well good thing she did, or this might’ve been Bess’s last birthday.” George smirked. “Never thought I’d say this,” she continued, ignoring her friend’s offended huff and turning towards Nancy, “but I’m glad you were around, Hudson.”

“Thanks.” Nancy sounded like she wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or insulted by the statement. “I was looking for you guys, actually. When we realized what the necklace was, we called Cassidy and she said she’d given it to you for your birthday, and since you were coming to the beach Hannah and I were worried that getting it too close to the water might -”

“Wait, how did you know we’d be at the beach?” Bess interrupted.

Nancy stilled, her eyes darting over to a still-groggy Ace then back to the others so quickly that they might have missed it had they not been watching her so closely. “I must have overheard it the last time I was at the Claw.” Her voice was measured; almost deliberately calm. “When it’s slow there your voices tend to carry.” 

Bess and Nick gave each other an uneasy sidelong glance at Nancy’s implication, while George’s expression grew into something approaching begrudging respect. “Anyway,” Nancy stood, brushing sand off her pants and looking anywhere but in Ace’s direction, “I should get back to Hannah and let her know everything’s okay. See you around.”

She turned and started heading towards the parking lot, and Ace watched with worried eyes as his friends had a rapid fire non-verbal conversation. Bess nodded towards Nick, who responded with a shrug. They both looked over at Ace with small smiles, then turned to George; Nick with one eyebrow raised in question and Bess with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. George glanced at Ace before letting out a labored sigh and rolling her eyes as she called down the beach: “Hey Hudson!” 

Nancy turned, hands twisting in the strap of the messenger bag. “You wanna meet us at the Claw after we get cleaned up?” George asked. “We’re closed for inventory - it’d be a good place to talk about all…this.” (Bess cleared her throat pointedly.) “And we have cake for Bess’s birthday.”

The smile that bloomed on Nancy’s face was beaming, even at a distance. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

                                 ______

It had been three weeks since the kelpie incident, and for all intents and purposes, Nancy had settled in as the fifth member of their little group. She and Bess had gotten along almost immediately, despite some awkward encounters when they had run into family while together. 

Nick had warmed to her considerably once she started helping him with his plans for a youth center in town. (It certainly hadn’t hurt that she’d ‘misplaced’ her grandfather’s application for the building on Spring St. until Nick’s bid had already closed). 

And while George and Nancy bickered almost constantly, they (usually) did it with smiles on their faces. If asked, they might not call each other ‘friends’, but they were definitely heading in a good direction. 

The first Friday afternoon of July found them sprawled out across the dining table of Nick’s loft, brainstorming ideas for that year’s ‘Still Summer at the Bayside Claw’ event. (Or rather found most of them. Truth be told, Bess’s focus might have been more on her online shopping.) They’d been working for an hour or so when a noise like the rapid honking of a clown nose suddenly interrupted the conversation.

“Shit,” Ace muttered, grabbing his phone and snoozing the alarm, “I’m going to be late for Shabbat.” He gathered his things in a rush, exchanged a quick “Bye” and kiss with Nancy, then froze. 

His eyes moved rapidly between the others - Nancy’s wide-eyed panic; George’s look of shock and disgust; Nick’s eyebrows shooting up his forehead; Bess’s almost giddy expression - before seeming to make a decision.

“Uh…Nick,” he croaked out before anyone could react any further, making his way over to where his friend was sitting with an air of forced normalcy and kissing him like it was something he did every day. “thank you for having me.”

“See you tomorrow, Bess.” He continued, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek, causing a giggle to escape her barely-maintained composure.

He turned towards the other end of the table, eying George the way an antelope might eye a lion. “George -”  

“Don’t even think about it.” She cut him off with a glare.

“Right. ‘Course.” He glanced around the room one last time as he backed towards the door, eyes skipping over Nancy as if he was afraid of what his expression might reveal if he focused at all on her. “Um, have a good night everyone.” And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him as his rapid footsteps echoed down the hallway.

A minute passed in complete silence, then another. 

Nick looked absolutely mystified, his fingers stuck halfway to his lips like he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. George’s grimace was slowly turning into an amused smirk, and Bess looked seconds away from breaking into complete hysterics.

Another minute passed before Nancy, staring at the table with a face almost as red as her hair, broke the silence. “So…how long have you guys known?”

“Since before the kelpie incident.” George answered bluntly, while Nick shook off his daze and turned his attention towards Nancy and Bess took a calming breath and tried to bite back her laughter.

“Oh.” 

Nancy’s eyes darted between the table and the door as if trying to decide if it would be worse to try and explain herself or just cut her losses and run. “Ok, well, we were going to tell you, we just -”

“You can relax Nancy.” Nick cut in, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch, but finally turned to see an understanding smile on his face. “You wouldn’t be here right now if any of us still had a problem with you.”

Bess nodded rapidly, reaching across the table to cover one of Nancy’s hands with her own. “You make Ace happy, and that’s what really matters to us."

A wobbly smile began to grow on Nancy’s face, before she blinked and turned towards George with apprehension and a bit of challenge in her eyes. 

George’s expression stayed firm until Nick cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the grin she gave Nancy was genuine.“Plus I guess you’re not horrible.”

That pulled a laugh from Nancy, even as she blinked back touched tears she knew George would make fun of. “Thanks guys. I really appreciate that.”

(To say Ace was confused when she walked into the Claw the next morning and kissed him in the middle of the dining room would be an understatement, but he definitely wasn’t complaining.)

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [3] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) i keep forgeting to add that this isnt beta-rread..all of my stories arent so yeah shshs Notes: ah, i feel like this story will be lengthen more than 8-10 chapters shshshs i wanted to add a little spice anyways thanks for all the comments uwu ily all!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

“Y/N-chan!!!”

You cringe in embarrassment as soon as you hear that awfully familiar and cheerful voice, you could barely remember this man and the events that transpired the night before but here he was, acting like your new best friend. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go here but you needed clarity. Surely you didn’t just legally marry a man at an Izakaya out of all places last night?

“Oh, you actually did marry him.” Gojo Satoru proclaims as soon as you take a seat across him, he gestures around his face, “I could tell by your whole, ‘I hope this guy is messing with me’ face. You have it, signed and sealed. Even got the cute matchy rings that I had one of my assistants delivered.”

You pale at the thought of his assistant coming in with a silver ring. Wasn’t he sober? How could he not have stopped you two from doing something as reckless and stupid as this? Weren’t older men supposed to be more responsible than this?

“Why the hell didn’t you stop us?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands, embarrassment painted all over your features.

“I was just as drunk as you two.” He confessed, scratching his head, “probably even more drunk but anyways back to the topic in hand, I only remembered it when the same assistant came in and congratulated me about it. It’s good I had your number on my phone before you two bailed.”

“So you don’t really remember?”

“Bits and pieces.” Gojo grinned, this guy was a maniac, how did the serious man you met just this morning have friends like this? You probably wouldn’t even last long, “I did call Nanami-”

He’s cut off by the rough sound of someone pulling a chair out, you immediately jump on your seat when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, the guy from this morning. The man you had recklessly married!

“This better be some prank you’re pulling, Satoru.” His voice was anything but kind that you almost wanted to hide behind Gojo’s back.

“Hey, hey.” Gojo raises his hands, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t force you into anything and stop scaring your poor little partner.”

Nanami snaps his gaze towards you and you notice how his eyes soften just a bit when he sees your red ears and your eyes looking away from him, “You better call Geto and fucking fix this, I refuse to bother this young-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, still shy and red, “It’s...fine...I just…Please don’t think I’m burdened by it. It was technically my fault for even agreeing immediately.”

Nanami clenches his jaw and turns away, “Nevertheless. L/N-san’s young. I hope to not be such an uncouth man like you.” he retorts, voice sharp as he eyes the white-haired businessman up and down. Gojo, seemingly used to it, rolls his eyes behind his dark shades.

“Maybe you guys should try it out.”

The blonde man looks like he’s about to smite the white-haired man out of existence yet Satoru remains oblivious to his friend’s gaze, “Don’t ya think so? It will take a while for those divorce papers to settle in so why don’t you two go out and get to know each other? Who knows…” he sing-songs the last part and Nanami is so close to chunking his briefcase towards the tall businessman, not even caring 

“Ah, he’s not exactly wrong, Nanami-san.” you try to calm him down, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this idiot’s idea.” Nanami replied, gaze narrowing.

“Not really but you have some problems I can help you out on and I have problems that you can help me out on...Of course, the last say is on you...”

“Told you I actually had a brain.” Satoru piped in.

“Shut up, Satoru.” he quips, then turns to you, “I’m thirteen years older than you, L/N-san. I have two high school kids that could pass off as your siblings, and-”

“Well, I technically did marry you.”

“You were drunk.”

“Doesn’t exactly really excuse it.” You laugh nervously, “The whole divorce process usually lasts up to a few months, some even takes a whole year. I could help you out with the boys and I can use you to ward my family off from moving back home.”

Nanami is quiet for a moment, actually thinking about it. Weighing the pros and the cons, not only would you be able to help him out but you’d also be able to get Gojo and blind-dating out of his back.

There really wasn’t anything he could loose, really.

“Or you two might fall in love.” Satoru teases, making Nanami throw him another side-eye, as if saying ‘I dare you to say another word.’

It’s a Thursday today and Sukuna absolutely loathed Thursdays     apparently because it reminded him of Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. They all were far from the weekend     Everyone seems to be happier than usual though. Maybe it was because you were there teaching some basic shit at the board or something.

“...and if we transfer this here and change the positive to a negative, you’ll end up having five as your answer.” You smile, placing your chalk down, “Does anyone have any questions?”

Echoes of no’s resonated throughout the room.

“Alright then, let’s end the lesson here so you guys can have an early lunch. I don’t think an assignment is in order since many of you were able to get a perfect score in the activity awhile ago.” You winked. A couple of whoops resonated throughout the whole class right after. 

As the kids shuffle out of the room of the class, Sukuna remains behind. The ojisan had cooked them something delicious this morning and he wanted to eat it in peace without that pesky Nobara grabbing a share from his bento and Yuuji’s annoying babbles about horror movies with his best friend Junpei (the only one who was really bearable was Megumi, really)

“Sukuna-kun?” you called out, snapping him out of his small trance,  “Are you alright?”

He notices a glint of worry in your eyes, he had to admit since his transfer here last Monday, you were the least annoying teacher in the academy     the blue-haired professor in Japanese literature was absolute shit since he loved to tease him a lot and that bald-headed teacher in science who looked a lot like Mike Wazowski was an annoying twerp who loved dawdling in him and Yuuji’s business     and you were kind of good at your job. Not only did his idiot of a brother stop coming to him and their ojisan for help in math but he could actually do the worksheets right and get an actual decent grade at it.

“Yeah.” he roughly replies.

“That’s good.” You smiled, he watched as you bind their worksheets together and clip them in utmost delicacy, “You should head to the cafeteria now, I heard they’re serving milk bread today.”

Without saying anything more, you left the room, leaving him there in the silence.

Well, the Christmas tree idiot was right.

You kind of had a motherly aura on you and it didn’t even look forced.

No wonder, everyone in this room was whipped for you despite your subject being a pain in the ass.

“You look like an idiot.” You mumbled as you slapped Mahito’s hand away in annoyance, your workmate wiggling his eyebrows like the little shit he is.

You completely forgot you did have someone like Gojo Satoru in your life and it was one of your co-workers, Mahito, a Japanese literature teacher who was too nosy for his own good.

“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger and a mailman comes in and gives you an invite for Zen’in Toji’s fortieth birthday.” he whistles, “Even Jogo-sensei gossiped by the water cooler awhile ago, saying that you had eloped with the man. Not that I’m judging you or anything...”

You choke on your saliva, clearly thrown off by the backhanded comment. That darn bald-headed fool that looked like the green eyed monster from the DreamWorks cartoon, he sure needed to lay off the gossip and actually focus on his job as the head of the science department, “You’re not denying it.” Mahito stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Why aren’t you denying it?”

“I’m not dating Megumi-kun’s father.” You grumbled, finishing up your paperwork, “That man is off limits.”

“Right,” he drawls on sarcastically, “...because you have a strict rule against dating hot older men with money.”

“I also teach his kids and his cousin…” You deadpan.

“We don’t even have a rule against that.” He retorts, rolling his eyes, “If we did, Hanami-sensei would’ve been fired a long time ago.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re so secretive. If it isn’t Toji Zen’in, who’d ask you out?”

“Hey, I do have a man.” You huffed, “and he’s very kind and considerate...”

The image of the tall and lean man sleeping next to you slowly wormed its way back from your memory and you feel your cheeks start to flush. Good god, what were you? twelve? How embarrassing.

You needed to get that image off of your head, it wasn’t right.

It was all temporary, anyways and he doesn’t even see you in that sort of way-

“Yes, I’m Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori’s guardian…” a very familiar stoic voice could be heard from the nearby table, cutting your thoughts short. Wait, were you so head over heels for the man that you started imagining him here? Yuuji and Sukuna’s guardian? Wait a minute.

All color drained from your face as you snap your head behind you to find the same man you were imagining.

Oh no.

Oh no, indeed.

There stood Nanami Kento in all his glory;  crisp suit, stoic face, and eyes laced with mild worry.

“...L/N-sensei is Sukuna-kun’s adviser, by the way. It would be best to discuss this with them.” Akari somberly informed the man, turning to your direction. You don’t miss the shift of expressions when he sees you standing there.

Your mouth parts and you know you look like gawking fish trapped in a small aquarium.

“Akari-sensei’s looking at you with the new hot daddy.” Mahito mumbles next to you, eyeing him up and down, “Definitely wonder where all these old men come from these days.”

You were only half-listening to your co-worker because your head was all over the place, just what were the odds that he was the guardian of the new transferee’s? Just how awkward would everything be? Why did it even have to be at this school out of all places?

Never ending questions pop out of your head as you approached them, “Good afternoon, Nanami-san.” Your smile comes out very stiff and awkward while you hold your hand out for him to shake, clearly there was no memo on how you were suppose to act around your sort-of-fake-husband-whos-kids-you-actually-taught.

Nanami reverts back to his stoic expression as he clears his throat, “Yes, good afternoon to you too, L/N-sensei.” he greets, maintaining a straight-laced tone.

“Akari-sensei says that Sukuna has been quite...rude...in class…” you try to rack your brains up to describe his kid.

“Your son literally pointed out that the history lesson I was teaching was fake and that I should study again so he could get his tuition’s worth.” Akari looks clearly perplexed and ready to throttle the boy if it was legal. You had to admit, Sukuna went overboard with that insult.

You knew how passionate Nitta was about her job and what Sukuna just said to her was like a big ‘fuck you, you suck.’ to her.

“I’ll be sure to talk to him about this,” he sighs, bowing down, “I’d like to ask for forgiveness for that, the boy is a good and smart student-”

“Nanami-san, the school not only cares about grades but character as well.” Akari Nitta sighed, cutting him off, “I’ll let this slide once, if he does that again, it goes on the record.”

You internally bit your cheek, still trying to process everything that was going on.

“I understand. Thank you for that.”

“I’ll walk him out, sensei.” You immediately say soon after, wanting to have some alone time with him, “Let’s go, Nanami-san.”

You walk right next to him silently, some students peerlessly glancing at the tall blonde next to you but you were too immersed in thought to notice the stares, “Nanami-san?” you ask softly as soon as you reach the exit.

Nanami Kento looks at you, his eyes still laced with a bit of worry, “It’s okay.” you silently comforted him, “Just talk to him calmly.”

“That’s not the problem.” he sighed, “I just didn’t expect that the person I married would be the boy’s teacher.”

You sweat drop, “Aren’t you worried about talking to Sukuna? I mean, he literally just disrespected a teacher and you said that he and you weren’t in good-”

“It’s easier to talk to him about that rather than…” he paused, showing his ring, “this.”

You blinked.

Seemed like Nanami knew what to say about the little attitude problem his son had, “So you must be used to this?” you asked, “Him disrespecting the teacher?”

You notice the shift of expressions on his face, you had only known this man for a few days so far but he was starting to get easier to read. His eyes shed more emotion than his face, no wonder he likes wearing those funny sunglasses a lot.

“It’s something I’ve scolded him over a couple of times,” he gruffed, trying to dance around the subject, it seemed like he had such a soft spot to the point where he had a problem with disciplining them, “At times I believe it’s just because he’s way too smart for his age. The boy has read history books for fun when he was a kid and solved quadratic equations to prove that he’s better than me when he was ten.”

“It still doesn’t give him the free pass to say things like that to a teacher”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “I’ll be sure to give him a better scolding-”

“No, you see. This is why he thinks he can get away with it. He isn’t afraid of you. You’ll only probably tell him that you can’t do that.” you frown, crossing your arms, “You do know that not all sensei’s are as nice as Akari-sensei and he could get in trouble for that even more in the future, right?”

Silence lingered between you two for a moment and suddenly you realize that you must’ve said something way off the rails.

“I..” you turn red, embarrassed by the sudden outburst, “That was too much, wasn’t it?”

You look at him directly in the eye, the worry-filled ones are now replaced with a softer gaze. God, he really needed to stop looking at you like a kid. It would only make this set-up more awkward!

“No,” he mumbles, “It...It wasn't too much…”

“Oh.” you cleared your throat, flustered and looking away from his face, “Well, okay then goodbye then Nanami-sa-”

You needed to get out of this conversation quick.

“Kento.”

Your gaze snaps directly towards him, clearly taken aback by the correction.

“What?”

“We’re technically married now, right?” he softly corrected, “Call me Kento.”

“Oh,” You uttered again, this time softly. You looked down on your shoes, it seemed like the floor looked really interesting now, “Then bye-bye, Kento.”

“Bye Y/N.”

He leaves you standing there, cursing yourself because of your erratic heartbeat at the way he says your name in that voice. First name basis? okay, totally normal for sort-of lovers, right?

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[some-kindofgnome]

august slipped away

i. ii.

Otherwise known as the Thanksgiving fic.

characters: mirio x f!reader

wc: 2.6k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), quirkless AU, angst, Thanksgiving long-distance woes, mirio’s very ugly little subaru

notes: Happy Birthday @drapetomaniac​! I’m so glad I was able to get this finished on time. I’m so grateful to have met you on this lil site, so consider this my birthday gift to you! 💖  This serves as a part ii to my Kinktober fic “with autumn closing in.” It got ANGSTY. I hope you love it.

on the prompt: “It’s November – the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.” This beautiful line was written by Lucy Maud Montgomery, a wonderful Canadian writer, in her novel Anne of the Island, published in 1915.

MASTERLIST

Mini Prompt Event!

It’s November – the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.

Despite the traffic, the drive into your hometown’s been remarkably quiet. You’ve hitched a ride with a friend, and with Starbucks in your cupholders and weeks worth of laundry piled into her trunk, you ride back in near-silence.

She knows what’s on your mind as she pulls off the exit, the all-too-familiar sign that marks your hometown sending a rush of anxiety straight to your gut.

You’re not looking forward to this weekend as much as you should be. You miss your family- your parents, your dog, your bedroom- but there’s another gaping question mark that fills the rest of the weekend, too harrowing to ignore.

Mirio.

After a very tearful goodbye at the end of the summer, things were good between you. You texted all the time and called him whenever you could. You even wrote letters back and forth in the first month of the semester. Mirio’s were never decked out in stickers or lavish penmanship like yours were, but they teared you up all the same.

But college is difficult. And you’re both starting this year, so it’s been a lot for both of you to adjust to. You and Mirio always kind of sailed through high school without too much extra studying, so the amount of work it takes to do well in college has been a massive wake-up call.

It’s putting a strain on your relationship with him. Slowly, at first.

You were too busy with papers and assignments to call during the week, but he was too busy with practices and games and training to call on the weekends. The letters dwindled in frequency and then ceased altogether. Now you’ll go days without hearing from each other at all.

There’s never been a doubt in your mind that long-distance was going to be difficult. But you’re pretty sure it’s not supposed to feel like this.

Your friend drops you off in the driveway and squeezes your tight shoulder. She promises you that it’s going to work out, one way or the other. Then she pulls away to continue to her own city and you climb up the front steps with two garbage bags of laundry in your hands.

You’re attacked by your ecstatic dog at the door, and your mother doesn’t follow far behind. The house is already fragrant with the spiced aroma of baking pumpkin pies, and your mother cries as she hugs you tightly. So do you.

A few minutes later, with your first load of laundry spinning away, you flop onto the couch. To your delight, there’s a text from Mirio. You’re kind of hoping to see him tonight, but you’re not sure what time he was planning on getting into town. Still, a text from him seems promising.

Home yet? It reads.

You’re trying not to let it show that you’re brimming with happiness.

Just got in, you text breezily, curling your knees to your chest with a little smile tugging at your lips. It feels so good to talk to him again here, knowing you’ve got nothing but time to spend with him this weekend.

You text back and forth a little bit, soft little messages about how good it feels to be home and how glad you are that he got home safe. The last message you type out feels indulgent but so good, and you send it with every expectation of an immediate response.

Wanna come over?

Read 7:12 pm

Dull silence persists from your phone. One hour goes by. Two hours. The temptation to send him another message is overwhelming. You’ve been well past the point of avoiding double texts for as long as you can remember.

But this feels… different. Like you shouldn’t bother him. Like, somehow, that’ll only make the silence worse.

So you don’t. Fair enough.

The next day, you’re up to your elbows helping your family get ready for dinner. Your mom has an unfortunate habit of pulling out the stops, but the meal turns out fantastic. Dealing with your extended family is as draining as always, but you’re texting Mirio every so often under the table and he seems happy enough to respond.

You think about bringing up his sudden disappearance last night, but figure he’d been preoccupied with his family. Tonight, his texts are in good spirits.

It’s not until you’re curled up in bed with a belly full of turkey that you try again.

Wanna do something tomorrow? I have brunch in the morning, but I could meet you after.

Read 10:36 pm

Nothing.

Fool me once, you don’t want to let yourself think. But Mirio’s pretty good at putting his phone down when it’s time for bed, so you tell yourself he’s just gone to sleep. He’s gone to sleep and in the morning you’re going to wake up to a sweet little text from him with fresh plans from the afternoon.

Unfortunately, the trend continues. You catch and hold his attention for a few messages a time every day, but every time you mention meeting up in person, you get radio silence. It’s gotten to the point where you know it’s on purpose, and yet every time you fail to confront him, your embarrassment deepens.

Mirio doesn’t play games with you. It feels wrong, to have him jerking your heart around like this. But you give him the benefit of the doubt all weekend.

Finally, it’s Sunday. Your washed, folded laundry is packed neatly in the hallway. You’re finishing up dinner and your family knows, at this point, to keep quiet about Mirio.

You’ve given up on seeing him entirely.

As your family cleans up, you try one more time. You know you shouldn’t. You have every expectation of being treated the same way you have all weekend- why should this time work out any differently?

But you do it anyway.

Hey… I know you might be busy with family stuff, but we’re both going back tomorrow so tonight’s kinda the last chance I can see you…

To your surprise, just a few minutes later, you get a reply,

Want me to pick you up?

Within half an hour, his familiar little Subaru is waiting for you in the dark. Your heart clenches tightly, watching him parked in the driveway. You haven’t seen him in months.

You’d expected a happier reunion.

Still, there’s a sort of lightness that tugs at your heart as you pick your way down the front steps. You tug open the passenger’s side door- the inside of the car is toasty from the rattling little heater that’s always smelled just a little bit burnt.

Mirio has a sad sort of tired smile on his lips, but you can see the relief in his gaze. You’ve almost forgotten what he looks like in real-time like this.

“Hi,” you gasp, almost shyly. You tug the door shut and he shifts the car into gear. You can’t help the little clench of anticipation you get when he puts a hand on the back of your seat to glance over his shoulder.

When he looks back at you, he looks a little brighter.

“Wanna get some coffee?”

He takes you through the Starbucks drive-thru and buys you both iced coffees. The ice rattles cold and sweet inside the cups as he drives you out of town, taking you up the winding road to the point. Neither of you says a thing. You haven’t planned a thing, but you don’t need to.

As you draw closer to the familiar little lookout, your stomach tightens.

Something feels very wrong about the way he’s treating you. By the time he pulls off the road and rolls along the battered gravel path, you’re almost in tears.

You should’ve seen this coming the first time he left you on read. Mirio’s never left you on read before.

“Well,” you mumble, your heart pounding in your throat. You know you’re going to regret this, but it’s killing you to sit in silence. You reach into the centre console and grab your coffee, shaking it weakly in front of him.

“At least you bought me a coffee before breaking up with me.”

Mirio reacts visibly in the dark next to you.

“What?” He looks over, dark eyes shining with betrayal. His blonde brow is firm and set, but there’s genuine surprise in his expression.

“Break up with you?” His voice is trembling. “W-why would I-“

Now you feel even stupider. The tears come, hot and fast and unrelenting. Your next words come in a pinched sob.

“Why wouldn’t you?” You’ve cried like this in front of him before, but this is the first time it’s ever seemed embarrassing.

“I tried to see you all weekend, all I wanted was to see you.” You’re sniffling wildly, and you knee open the glove box because you know he always keeps tissues there. “I missed you so much and-and you wouldn’t even talk to me.”

He whimpers your name, quiet as a prayer. He’s tearing up, too, gripping the steering wheel tightly with his face screwed up in pain.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I was… I thought…”

He’s pausing like you’re going to interrupt him, but you don’t. He bows his head, continuing.

“I was afraid to see you,” he confesses, “because I thought you wanted to break up with me.”

The relief you expect doesn’t come. Instead, a deeper, sicker pain wraps itself around your heart.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you don’t talk to me anymore,” he ejects. “Not in the same way. I… I know you’re busy, and I know I’m busy, but… things just felt different. Ever since Homecoming, I-I just…”

Homecoming was the one weekend that Mirio had been to visit you since the summer. That was a reunion that felt as good as it was supposed to. You’ll never forget bounding out of your residence hall to find him there, leaning against the edge of his little car like it was a souped-up Harley Davidsen. You’ll never forget the way he laughed when you launched yourself into his arms.

But that was where the bliss had stopped.

Homecoming was a bad weekend for him to visit. You should have seen that coming. You were busy with your brand new friendships, hopping from party to party. And though you were both all smiles when he was climbing into his car again on Sunday night, you’d known he left feeling a little neglected.

“Mirio,” you sob, reaching for him. You pull his eyes to yours with a hand under his jaw- a little unshaven, scratchy- and his cheeks are wet with fresh tears of his own. “I missed you like hell. I love you. I mean that every single time I say it. And I-“

You hate this kind of thing with him. Neither of you takes conflict very well. And though there have always been fights, this is the largest reckoning you’ve ever had.

“I had so many plans for us this weekend,” you admit, and the hurt takes over. Because no matter how you resolve this, that’s time that you can never get back. “And now I have to go back tomorrow and so do you and this is all we’re gonna have.”

“I know,” he sniffles right back. His voice is weak. Trembling. You haven’t seen him like this since his dog died, right after you graduated high school. “God, I-I… I’m so sorry.”

He’s reaching for you now, winding his arms awkwardly over the centre console to pull you close. You have to lean way over but you do, burying your face into the chest of his jacket.

You both sob openly, for nobody but yourselves.

“I don’t want it to be like this,” you plead. “I don’t want to be fighting for things to feel right. I can’t take four more years of this, Mirio, I can’t.”

He’s stroking a palm down the back of your head now, burying his nose into your hair.

“It won’t be,” he promises. “I’m gonna try harder. I’m gonna- I promise.”

“It’s both of us,” you reply. Your voice drops as you start to, slowly, regain control. “It’s me too. I need to try harder, too. I don’t want it to end like this.”

You nose your way to the surface, peering up at him. You both look ridiculous, faces pinched and teary. But none of that matters when you’re leaning up and he’s leaning down and he’s kissing you, all soft and loving in that way that used to make you melt.

It still does.

You let it grow heated, let yourself grab him by the cheeks and pour all of the desperate longing you’ve been doing into this kiss. It becomes very clear to you that you’re not going to be getting out of this car a single woman. And relief spreads warm and gooey through your gut.

“I wanna,” you whisper, pulling back with your eyelashes fluttering. Mirio cups your cheeks and warmly swipes the last of your drying tears away. He leans in and nuzzles the chilled tip of your nose with his.

“You sure?”

You bite your lower lip and shoot him a quiet, sly little nod.

This time, when you climb into the backseat together, no blankets or pillows are waiting for you. But you don’t care. You let him splay you across the narrow back seat, hitching one knee up over the backrest and stretching the other one out alongside him.

It’s a good deal colder this time around. And you can’t wait to get to each other. Your clothes are barely shoved out of the way by the time he’s nudging his stiff tip against your folds. You’re pushing the long hem of his sweatshirt out of the way for him, and he looks down at you with such determined adoration that you wonder why you ever doubted his love in the first place.

He eases into you slow and gentle, just like the first time. Very unlike the second time, harried and rushed under the covers of your rickety dorm bed.

You drag his lips to yours while he bottoms out inside you, wrapping that free leg around his hips and keeping him buried tight.

He fucks you just like that, in deep, tiny little strokes that nudge the tenderest parts of your belly and send pleasure trickling right down your spine each time. He kisses every part of your skin that he can reach, whispering his devotion to you over and over and over again until his voice breaks. Until all he can do is grunt and sigh and shake above you as he pours his climax into you, bringing you to a quiet little peak beneath him.

You stay tangled for a long time, despite the cramps quickly developing in your forcibly angled limbs. He lays between your thighs, listening to your heartbeat as your lazy fingers drift through the sweat-damped strands of his golden hair.

“Hey,” he murmurs warmly, lifting his chin to find your eyes. “I wanna drive you back to school tomorrow, okay?”

“What?” You frown. “Mirio, that’s two hours in the opposite direction for you. Don’t-“

“Please,” he insists, and something in his tone makes you stop. He slides his hands up your sides. “I want to. I didn’t… I should’ve seen you more this weekend. Let me. Please?”

You give a breathy little laugh, laying your head back against the edge of the seat. Your heart throbs with that all-too-familiar warmth.

“My mom’ll be pissed,” you tease, and you feel him grin against your chest.

You’re going to be okay.

[s-and-n-writes]

another long day

crimson and bluebell: part two

summary:

Marinette Rossi is tired of everything: from Lila’s constant berating and Madame Rossi’s preferential care of her ‘angel-like’ daughter, to how everyone at school (even Alya) seems to believe her evil stepsister over her.

It’s like she’s Cinderella, except without the fairy godmother and the happy ending. She doesn’t even have a prince.

Or so she thinks.

Between the appearance of a new boy who seems to have captured her heart, and a gala run by her fashion idol Gabriel Agreste, Marinette hopes for an escape the constant ignorance, workload, and bullying she endures, and get a blissful life of her own.

With the help of one tiny god and a meow-velous partner, she might finally get a chance, but not everything is that simple.

They say ladybugs are lucky, so will being the elusive Ladybug bring Marinette the luck she oh-so-desperately needs?

quick links:

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a/n: so hi again, it’s me, n! im so so so sorry that i didn’t post for a long time, school caught up with me and everything’s getting v stressful these days. regardless, my new year’s resolution is to post more of these, and i’ll actively make an effort to do that hehe, in the meantime, enjoy!

also i’m appalled at the fact that this was 15 pages long and took more than a month to write how are you doing

Marinette had thought that the whole coffee spill, glass breaking fiasco would be relatively easy to clean.

She was wrong.

It takes her all of 10 minutes to clean up the glass, and another 20 minutes to try and clean up the coffee.

Key word: try.

Marinette ends up at school 30 minutes late, the coffee-stained carpet rolled off to the side at home, effectively ruined. She hasn’t even thought about the cracked glass table yet, which she hid by placing a tissue over top of it after Lila left.

Needless to say, all of this puts a little bit of a damper on her day.

As Marinette walks up the staircase of Francois Dupont, the school she goes to, she spots Alya Cesaire inside. Alya is Marinette’s closest friend, and despite having moved to Paris only a year ago, it feels like Marinette has known her for their entire lives.

“Girl, girl, girl…” Alya sighs as Marinette walks through the doors. It’s a free period, and students litter the area. Marinette spots Lila walking with one of her friends on the other side of the school, and luckily, Lila doesn’t see her.

There’s one good thing about school that Marinette adores: she doesn’t have to see Lila. Lila’s always had Madame Mendeleev for homeroom, and Marinette’s had Madame Bustier. Because of this, their schedules never interact, which allows Marinette to avoid Lila for the duration of the school day.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette pleads, running up to Alya and shrugging her backpack off her shoulder. “There was a coffee spill, and glass broke, and-OH GOD I MISSED THE MATH TEST!!!”

“Marinette, chill,” Alya laughs. “The math test got rescheduled, but Ms.Bustier is pretty mad about you being late,”

Marinette sighs. “That’s a relief,”

“But you still missed a lot of news~,” Alya says, singing the last word.

Alya aspires to be a journalist, so on the occasions that Marinette wasn’t late, Alya would give her anything and everything interesting she’d dug up that week.

"I know, I know," Marinette sighs, fingers loosely picking at her shirt again. The seams stay intact, but Marinette's mind doesn't. The coffee spill and the glass breaking is constantly on her mind; she's not sure what to do. 

"Nice shirt, girl," Alya smiles, breaking Marinette away from her thoughts. Alya's good at that, and she notices when Marinette lets her mind wander, something that happens a little too often for her tastes. "Did you make it?" 

Marinette bursts into a grin. "Yes! I used that gorgeous thread that Sabine bought last week for my birthday, you know, the one I kept talking about, and it was absolutely amazing! I had to make this! What do you think? Do you like it?" 

The shirt is simple; a white base with flowers of varying sizes lining the edge. Marinette pairs it with her old, pink jeans (the fabric for the flowers on her shirt came from some leftover ones she had when making the jeans) and a dark-gray blazer that Lila used to own. 

"It's beautiful," Alya smiles, "But hey, I’m more excited for you-know-who’s reaction," 

Marinette rolls her eyes, hiding her face as an involuntary blush rises to her face. "Alya! You know I don't like him like that!," 

Alya grins. "Just teasing," 

“Well, anyways, tell me what I missed during lunch, I’m off to the classroom, before Ms. Bustier comes looking for me,” Marinette smiles, turning and running up the stairs. 

“Good luck, girl!” Alya says, waving goodbye and pulling out her phone. 

“Good luck, girl!” Alya says, waving goodbye and pulling out her phone.

The day passes quickly, and lunch comes sooner than Marinette expects.

She meets Alya outside of Francois Dupont, and they both head to Ville de Soirée, a cafe which isn’t nearly as expensive as the others in the area. They both order their usuals, and sit in one of the booths as they wait for their drinks.

Marinette sighs and leans back. “Ok, ok, tell me,”

Alya, who is most probably on the verge of exploding from her excitement, gears up. “Ok, so you know Nino, right?”

“You mean the boy you’ve been obsessing over since we met him?” Marinette teases. “Oh hey, I might have an inkling,”

Alya blushes, her cheeks tinting rouge. “Shut up,”

Marinette giggles. “Ok, go on,”

“Anyway, Nino texted me yesterday that his parents finally agreed, and he’ll be starting school starting Monday next week!”

“Ah! That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you!” Marinette laughs. “Now you can actually make a move!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’ll let you play matchmaker when the time comes,” Alya laughs, “there’s also something else, and this one I know you’ll be even happier about,”

The barista interrupts Alya, placing two steaming drinks in front of them. They both reach for their drinks, with Marinette holding the cup in her hand and Alya taking a sip. She grins.

“Nino’s friend, you know, Adrien Agreste, is also coming too,”

She pulls back, looking smug as she tries to read Marinette’s face.

The girl in question sighs, shaking her head. “Who even is Adrien, and why does everyone keep mentioning him to me?”

Alya facepalms, groaning.

“Girl, sometimes I swear you live under a rock,” Alya sighs, shaking her head. “How do you not know who Adrien Agreste is? His ads are literally everywhere!”

Marinette pouts. “Well maybe I just haven’t seen him,”

Alya rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Ohh no, there’s no way you’ve missed him ,”

She pulls up her phone and momentarily scrolls as Marinette waits.

“Here,” she says, “That’s him,”

The photo on Alya’s screen is from last February, Marinette recognizes. She remembers how Lila bought a copy of the magazine it came in, although she wasn’t allowed to see it.

But the boy is familiar. His face is similar to someone’s, but Marinette can’t pinpoint who it—

Oh.

Oh.

He’s Gabriel Agreste’s son.

Marinette leans back.

“That’s Monsieur Agreste’s son! I should’ve known, how could I have missed it when Madame Rossi told us about him?”

Alya squints her eyes. “Wait what?”

“There’s a fashion show that Adrien’s dad is hosting, and the embassy’s holding a huge event to greet all the fashion officials that are coming. Madame Rossi got us all passes to go,” Marinette says.

“That’s the one my mom’s cooking for! It’s next weekend right? She would not stop talking about it all weekend. I can try and score a pass, to you know, keep you company?”

Marinette gasps suddenly, burying her face in her hands, “Ah! I forgot! I won’t be able to go, since Li— I mean I, spilled coffee all over our new carpet,”

Alya raises an eyebrow.

“Fine, fine, I cracked some glass too,” Marinette sighs, face growing redder. “Madame Rossi’s gonna ground me for sure!”

Alya shakes her head. “Somehow I can believe it. You are the clumsiest person I know,”

She nods thoughtfully, fingers closing around the fox necklace on her neck. “Well I can’t deal with the whole glass situation, but maybe I can help with the coffee stuff? Happens to my mom all the time,”

Marinette perks up. “Really? Would you? Oh thank you Alya!”

Alya laughs. “No problem girl, I’ll come by after your shift at the bakery,”

Marinette pauses. After work would be...when Lila comes home.

Alya has always been a fan of Lila, but despite knowing Marinette, she’s only admired Marinette’s less-than-wonderful sister from afar. This means that so far, Marinette has managed to keep Alya and Lila separate.

Does she really want to risk that?

Weighing in the situation, she sighs. Would she rather have a shot at attending a potentially life-changing event, or safely escape Alya meeting Lila?

Knowing the both of them, Marinette remembers, they’d be a deadly combo.

But Marinette really wants to go to the event so, maybe this time, she might just give in.

“Great!” Marinette says, happiness laced with fear. “That’s...great!

Alya nods, smiling, watching as Marinette giggles.

“Now about setting you up with Nino…”

Alya turns away, blushing, “Marinette!”

Today

Lie-la 😒: sup loser

Lie-la 😒: im going to the mall with my friends after school

Lie-la 😒: if my mom comes in early

Lie-la 😒: you know what to say

Lie-la 😒: type, maribrat. use those lousy fingers.

You: yea, sure lila.

Lie-la 😒: good.

Marinette sighs and pockets her phone. For today, she is safe.

And that’s all she has ever wanted.

Marinette’s day ends with her feeling happier than when it began. Alya’s coming over to wash out the coffee stain, Lila won’t be there when she gets home, and she’s heading to her shift at the bakery!

It’s normal for work to not be exciting to most people, but for Marinette, it always is. Heading to the Dupain-Cheng bakery is always the highlight of her day, and working there is even better. The owners, Sabine and Tom, are like the parents she never had, what with them spoiling her with all the food they give and teaching her how to bake. Customers even tell Marinette all the time that she looks strikingly similar to Sabine, but she doesn’t see it.

In truth, she’s only ever even thought about becoming a designer because of the Dupain-Chengs, and if it weren’t for their motivation, she’s sure that she would be in a much different place right now.

But that’s not what Marinette worries about right now. Despite school ending early and the bakery being right across the street from where she is, she still manages to be late.

She exchanges a quick goodbye with Alya, who chuckles at her frazzled state, and dashes off towards work.

“I’m here!” she shouts, running into the bakery, the familiar jingle of the store’s door’s bell ringing in her ears. “Sorry!

Sabine laughs as she hands a box of pastries to a customer, waving as they leave. “Just on time. Hello Marinette,”  

Marinette winces as Sabine holds out her apron. “Sorry again, Sabine!”

Tom laughs from the kitchen behind the store, the sound booming through the bakery. “Marinette!”

“Tom!” Marinette says back, her lips curving into a smile.

Sabine eyes Marinette as she ties the apron behind her, quickly joining the older woman behind the counter.

“So?” she asks. “What’s new with you?”

Marinette sighs. “Not much, not much...oh! Madame Rossi has an embassy gathering to welcome a couple of famous people into France. And not just any people, people who work in the fashion industry!”

Sabine nods, smiling at Marinette’s delight. “And why exactly are these people coming?”

“It’s for the Gabriel event. I don’t know when it is, but apparently Gabriel Agreste is holding a huge gala, something about searching for a fashion assistant?,”

Sabine perks up at fashion assistant. “Marinette, you should enter!”

Marinette gasps. “I couldn’t! There’s no way! I mean, my designs are barely adequate, let alone Agreste worthy!”

Sabine shakes her head. “Everyone knows that isn’t true. Don’t put yourself down like that!”

Marinette blushes. “Thanks Sabine,”

The woman smiles. “Well, anyways, are you allowed to go to the embassy event? It’s a great opportunity, you wouldn’t want to miss it,”

“I mean, Madame Rossi did invite me and Lila, but Lila spilled a bunch of coffee on the carpet, and cracked the dining table this morning. It’s all a stunt, she did it on purpose. She’s blaming it on me, which means I’ll get grounded, and I won’t be able to go, and you know there’s nothing I can do about that,”

Sabine sighs, placing a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Oh dear. The next time I see Lila, I’ll tell Tom to get that girl and her mother arrested!”

Marinette laughs. “As much as I’d like that, where would I live?”

The rumble of the oven from behind the store dies down, and Tom walks into the main room. The room seems friendlier all at once, his large personality filling the space.

“Here, with us,” he declares proudly. “You’re like a daughter already,”

Marinette giggles, her cheeks growing red. “Alright guys, we’ll see,”

Sabine and Tom laugh as Marinette runs away to help a customer. Their afternoons with Marinette pass by quickly, and while they wish it was longer, you know what they say: time flies when you're having fun.

By the time Marinette gets off her shift, it’s 5:30 in the evening. Paris’s sky starts to fade from its normal cotton-candy blue to a marmalade orange. The hustle and bustle of the busy streets start to die down, and once she texts her address to Alya, Marinette makes her way to the bus stop.

While her time in the bakery is her favorite time of day, her time on the bus doesn’t prove to be too bad either. She likes the quiet silence, and enjoys her time away from the world around her.

The bus is probably her favorite mode of transportation (but her only one as well). When she volunteered to work at the bakery after school, Madame Rossi decided that ‘the streets were too dark at night for Marinette to walk alone’, and she was given a bus pass.

It was a small and random act of kindness that Marinette wouldn’t ever get again. It was also the only gift she ever got from her adopted mother, and despite not being too fond of Madame Rossi, she did treasure the gift.

Madame Rossi paid for her bus rides until Marinette was actually hired at the bakery. It was then that she decided to have Marinette pay her own bills, an action that most certainly helped Marinette for the future.

The sound of tires skidding against the pathway jolts Marinette out of her thoughts. She turns to see her normal bus waiting in front of her, and grabbing her bus pas, waits in line behind a couple others to get on.

That is, until she sees what’s about to happen.

Marinette watches as a man across the street tries to cross. He’s old, as his grayed hair and aged face tells, but his most identifiable quality is the red Hawaiian shirt he wears, embossed with a white hibiscus floral pattern.

Besides that, there’s also a car coming straight for him, and though it’s a little while away, there’s no doubt that he’ll get hit.

Marinette does the only thing she can think of. She runs.

The street is narrow, and Marinette manages to pull the man across the pathway before the car comes. She huffs, turning to the man to smile.

He has an odd look in his eyes, lips curved into a mysterious smile as Marinette quirks her eyebrow.

“Thank you, young lady,” he nods.

“You’re welcome!” she smiles, turning to look at the bus, which has started leaving. “Goodbye and stay safe, sir!”

The old man watches as Marinette just manages to catch the bus, stopping it and shouldering her backpack as she climbs on.

Marinette seats herself as the bus starts once more, and turns to her window to look for the old man.

But by the time she does, he’s gone.

Alya gets to Marinette's house at just the right time. When she reaches, Marinette has done a couple of her chores, cleaned up the living room, and put out the carpet in the first floor bathroom. Against the white rug, the coffee stain is obvious, and Marinette sighs as she inspects it.

How were they ever going to get it out?

There’s a knock at the front door, and Marinette knows it’s Alya. Smiling, the girl heads to the living room to open it.

Alya gasps as she sees the house. From the marble kitchen to the hickory-brown wood flooring, everything is pristine and clean, as if the Rossis live in a mansion.

(They don’t, but the house is still fairly big. Marinette sometimes has to clean it all as part of her chores, but luckily that hasn’t happened in a while.)

“Dang girl,” Alya sighs, “you rich or what?”

Marinette nervously laughs, cracking her knuckles. “Uh, I don’t know,”

“I’m joking,” Alya smiles. “But, random thing, where’s Lila?”

“She’s out. Doctor’s appointment for her, um, wrist,”

“Aw, that’s too bad. Tell her I said get better soon!”

Marinette sighs. She doesn’t like lying, but it’s far better than what would happen if she told the truth.

“Yea. Anyway, how are you getting the stain out? I tried all morning, but it was stuck,”

“Just watch me, girl,” Alya smirks. “Before we start though, you already blotted the stain,right?”

Marinette furrows her eyebrows. “Blotted? What do you mean?”

Alya demonstrates with her hands. “Like, did you take a paper towel and try to get as much of the stain out as you could?”

Marinette nods. “Yeah, that’s why I was late this morning,”

Alya nods. “Ok, so now we just have to make the cleaner,”

Marinette raises an eyebrow. “Make? This is getting a little crazy,”

“It’s really not,” Alya laughs, “I’ve done this a thousand times before. My sisters knock over my dad’s coffee way too much,”

Marinette laughs. “Alright then, show me what to do,”

Alya makes her way to the kitchen, filing through multiple cabinets. “Where’s your dish soap?”

“Bottom-left drawer next to the sink,” Marinette points.

“And your white vinegar?”

“Fridge. Anything else you need?”

“Just water,” Alya replies. “Warm, that is. And two cups of it,”

Marinette nods. “Got it,”

Alya takes out a steel bowl from one of the cabinets. “And can I use this?”

Marinette nods again. “Go ahead,”

“Great,” Alya says, pouring a spoon of dish soap followed by a spoon of vinegar. She waits for Marinette to get the water before adding that in as well, and then mixing. “That should do,”

“Work your magic then,” Marinette laughs.

“Just watch and see girl, I totally will,”

Alya finds a cleaning rag from a drawer in the island, and she runs over to the carpet. “Grab yourself a rag, Marinette, and let’s get started!”

Marinette laughs, and runs over to help. The time passes quickly, and by the time the coffee stain is gone and the carpet is dry, two hours have gone by. Their hands are sore and their legs are tired, but both can say that they had fun.

In the midst of it, Marinette almost doesn’t notice when Lila texts her.

Today

— 2 New Messages —

Lie-La 😒: open the back door

Lie-la 😒: im right by my house

Almost.

“Alya!” Marinette gasps, both sitting on the couch after the carpet was rolled back underneath the dining table. “It’s so late, don’t you have to go at 7?”

Alya tilts her head, confused. “No?”

“Oh well then I must have said it,” Marinette laughs nervously. “Yes that’s right! I’ve got work, haha. Bye!”

Marinette practically pushes Alya to the front door, while Alya looks lost and puzzled.

“Didn’t you already have work?” Alya asks.

“Yep, but gotta save up for uni right? Haha. Haha,”

Alya nods, squinting her eyes as she walks out the door.

“Um, bye? See you at school, girl,” Alya nods, quietly laughing.

“Bye!” Marinette smiles. Once Alya is farther away and out of sight, Marinette runs to open the back door. She can faintly hear the sounds of Lila’s friend’s car pulling into the driveway, so she dashes back upstairs as fast as she can. The last thing she wants to do is talk to Lila, much less be alone in a room with her.

She hopes that Lila won’t try anything while she’s in her room.

Sighing, she smiles when she stops at the attic door, and heads inside.

Before Madame Rossi found her and decided to take her in (how she came to that conclusion, Marinette would never know), the attic was all set to be Lila’s playroom. The entire room was painted pink from head to toe (even the carpet was a light shade of pink). There was a wooden wardrobe for all of Lila’s toys, and a desk with markers, painting supplies, and coloring pencils galore.

But then Marinette came along.

For one reason or another, she was given the attic as her own room. Out went the ideas of toys and tents in the room, and in came Marinette.

Madame Rossi didn’t give her anything. From the age of 2 till the age of 4, she slept on the ground, the lack of a bed present to her each night.

Until Lila outgrew her bed of course, which was then given to Marinette.

It was simple. Since Marinette was smaller than Lila, and slower at growing, she was often given Lila’s old things. All the clothes that Lila didn’t want, Marinette had. From her bed to the old beanbag in her room (one of the only things Lila gave her as decoration) everything was a hand me down from Lila herself.

Marinette sighs, and then flops into the bed. She’s lucky that Lila doesn’t bother if Marinette doesn’t get on her nerves.

Hopefully, until she can get out of this place, she’ll manage without angering Lila too much.

Standing up, Marinette locks herself in the attic, a faint click of the door behind her, and gets out her phone. Opening up Spotify, she starts her playlist, and goes over to the desk.

For the next hour, she does homework and finishes a project, all while sketching out designs for new dresses.

And hey, if she’s lucky, she might just be able to make one for the gala.

Marinette shuffles through her desk drawers, pop music playing through her earbuds. It’s nearly 8 PM and she’s searching for the special gold thread she had bought a couple weeks ago. It cost nearly a month's pay, and she’s been saving it for a special occasion.

With the dress she was sketching, she wanted to know if it was now.

She’s still searching through the drawers on the left side of the desk when she finds a box.

One that she feels might not have been there before.

(Then again, she rarely looks through all her drawers, so there’s always a chance that it could’ve been.)

Marinette feels confused. The box is made of a dark brown wood, and shaped like an octagon. The top of the box is embossed with a red design. Glimmering red circles meet wavy, thin lines, but Marinette is preoccupied with figuring out what the box is for.

In the end, she decides to open it. There can’t be much inside, can there?

Turns out, Marinette is wrong.

The moment she opens it is a frightful one. In that second, there’s a bright flash of light. It swirls around her as Marinette gasps, dropping the box onto the carpet as two solid-black earrings fall out.

That’s not the amazing part of it all though. After a second, Marinette comes face to face with a spotted red creature.

Needless to say, she screams.

“Hi Marinette!” the spotted creature says. “My name is Tikki! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Mouse!” Marinette hollers, “Bug! Bug-mouse! Talking bug mouse!”

Marinette scooches back, her hand grabbing books and papers off her desk as she throws them at Tikki.

“I’m here to help!” Tikki says, dodging the objects. “I’m here to help you!”

“Liar!” Marinette calls, searching for more things to throw. “This must be Lila’s version of a joke ! I can’t believe her!”

She takes her water-bottle from her backpack, and quickly moves to trap Tikki in it.

“It’s ok Marinette, I won’t hurt you,” Tikki smiles. “But if this makes you feel better, then this is ok!”

There’s a pause, and then Marinette sighs and chooses not to answer, leaning back, and quickly grabbing her school tablet off her desk. She points it at Tikki, trying her best to look intimidating.

“Who are you?” Marinette asks, “and what do you want?”

“Like I said, my name’s Tikki! I’m a kwami!” the tiny bug says, (still trapped in the bottle but floating in midair, Marinette notes) “And I want to help you!”

Marinette sighs, lowering her weapon tablet. “Did Lila send you somehow?”

Tikki furrows her forehead in place of her eyebrows. “No? Who’s Lila?”

Marinette bitterly chuckles, standing and throwing her arms into the air. “This. This. This is why you can’t help me. No one can. Anyone who meets Lila thinks she’s an ‘absolute angel’, and no one else knows her. How is someone supposed to help me if no one knows that my problem exists?!”

“Marinette,” Tikki sighs, “I promise you, I can help, if you’ll listen to me. Please let me explain, and then you can decide if you want to trust me or not, ok?”

Marinette pauses, considering the situation, and sits a fair distance away from Tikki, keeping her tablet in her hands.

“Ok,” she responds, facing the little bug. “But you have 5 minutes,”

Tikki smiles again. "And that's all I need,"

quick links: < previous chapter | first chapter | next chapter >

a/n: i resolve to post the next chapter soon lmaoo, thanks for reading! have an absolutely amazing day, you deserve it! 

taglist:

i’ll be tagging the people that i had tagged before, along with a couple others who liked the previous chapter for this series. if you don’t want to get tagged, i’m very sorry! just shoot me a private message, and i’ll take you off the tags. if you do want to get tagged, just tell me with a private message or an ask and i’ll add you to the taglist. thank you!

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[mrsbarnes99]

The meaning of age and time

Pairing: Modern!CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are in a happy relationship but the comments of others about your agepap get to him and he starts wondering if you two are really suited for each other.

Warnings: Angst, big agegap (Reader is 23 and Bucky is 40)

Word Count: 1853 words

A/N: Here's a little one shot I came up with. I hope you like it. This is my first try at writing something and English is not my first language so please be kind.

You and Bucky had been together for almost a year and you‘ve never been happier in your life. He was the kind of boyfriend every girl hoped for: loving, charming, caring, funny and a bit dorky. But although you two were very in love and had been living together for a few months, there was one aspect that seemed to cause more and more problems. At first you never thought much about your agegap because you didn‘t deem it a problem in any way. But there had been situations in which you felt like Bucky was having some issues with the fact that you are significantly younger than him.

You first noticed it a couple of weeks ago when you two went out for some coffee in the afternoon.

Eversince the new cupcake shop down the street from your apartment had opened you wanted to try it out. So one Sunday you convinced Bucky - by convincing you mean giving your boyfriend a serious case of puppy dog eyes - to go there after taking a walk together. Bucky had always loved these little dates the two of you would go on practically all the time as Sam would say. This time though you noticed that Bucky was uncomfortable and kept glancing at everyone around you. Almost as if he was checking if they were looking at you two.

"Buck, if you don‘t want to stay we can take some cupcakes back home."

You were very surprised about the relief on Buckys face after telling him this but you figured that he was just exhausted and wanted to relax at home after a grueling week at work. Especially because everything seemed fine again once you had left the shop.

The second time that Bucky was all of a sudden in a bad mood was when Sam kept teasing Bucky with his "old age". Normally Bucky would just roll his eyes and start making jokes about Sam as well. Sometimes they would get so competitive that it almost seemed like a match. But this time Bucky just blew up.

"Y/N, grandpa here is really turning you into a homebody. When was the last time you went to a club with us?"

"I canceled one t-" "What is your problem Birdbrain!? Can‘t you just mind your own damn business for once?" You were shocked at how angry Bucky was and that he‘d just interrupt you like that.

"Cool it, Buckaroo or you might have a heart attack." Sam kept mocking. While glaring at him Bucky got up from his chair and then just stomped out of the café and back to his office. You and Sam just looked at each other confused. Neither of you understood why this would bring such a reaction out of him. After giving Bucky some time to calm down you went looking for him but he didn‘t go back to his office as you had presumed. So you went to his assistant and asked her where Bucky went to. "He left to see Mr. Rogers in his office to go over some contracts, Ms. Y/L/N."

You weren‘t sure if you should go up to Steve‘s office or not but decided to just knock and see if they were almost done. As you were standing infront of Steve‘s door you heard Bucky‘s voice "You don‘t understand Steve! I just don‘t know how to ignore it!" What was Bucky talking about? Ignore what? You were curious and kept on listening to their conversation.

"It was never a problem before. What changed?" "You just don‘t get it, Steve! Do you know how weird it is to feel how everyone around is watching you thinking what does he want with her? Can‘t he find someone his age? That poor girl he‘s probably just using her to feel young again. Why are they together they have nothing in common?" You felt a tear slide down your cheek. Why didn‘t Bucky tell you about his feelings concerning the agegap the two of you have? You decided it was better to go back to Bucky‘s office and wait there until he comes back to talk about everything. You didn‘t have to wait long. Bucky was back half an hour later and seemed to be in a better mood but once he saw your sad face he got concerned. "What happened, doll? Have you been crying?" "No. Actually, yes a bit." "Why?" Bucky sat down beside you and pulled you towards himself hugging you. "Ms. Romanoff told me you were with Steve so I went to his office and I overheard you guys talking. When were you going to tell me that my age bothered you so much?" You could see that Bucky was struggling thinking about how best to answer your question.

"Look, doll. I have always known that our relationship would raise some brows but that never bothered me until I heard some women talk about us." "When was that?" "That day at the cupcake shop." "So that‘s why you wanted to leave. But why does it bother you when someone you don‘t even know thinks it‘s ok to judge us?" "I didn‘t want it to bother me this much but I couldn‘t help but keep thinking about it. They did have some points..." "Such as?" You asked annoyed. "For example the fact that you‘re at an age where you like to go out an party on the weekends instead of chilling at home. Or that I‘m at an age where you settle down and start a family whereas that’s still in the far future for you. We‘re just in two very different places." "So do you feel this way too or have you just started thinking about this after hearing someone make these stupid remarks about us?" Bucky looked you deeply in the eyes, sighed and then kissed you on your forehead. "I‘m sorry, doll. I guess I just got too in my head with all this. I don‘t think that we‘re a bad match or not suited for each other just based on our age. I love you and I‘m very happy that you're my girl." "I love you too Buck. But promise me that you‘ll talk to me if something like this happens again ok?" "I promise, doll. What do you say to a movie and some Pizza tonight? So we can leave this all behind and spent some time together." You smiled at Bucky and gave him a kiss before grabbing your back and making your way back to the little clothing store you had started with Y/F/N a couple of years ago.

Now looking back at these two small incidents you wonder if you missed the signs which led to the big fallout you and Bucky had yesterday. When you came back to the apartment after work you were exhausted. Today just hadn‘t been your day. It started with an unfriendly customer and ended with a fashion magazine describing your stores latest clothes as boring and nothing new or exciting. You couldn‘t wait to just snuggle up to your boyfriend and forget about everything. But upon unlocking the door to your shared apartment it was like you entered an alternate dimension. There was a suitcase next to the door and you heard your boyfriend rummaging in the bedroom.

"Do you have to leave for a business meeting?" You asked confused, wondering if you forgot about something he mentioned. Bucky looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. "Buck, what is going on? Did I forget about something?" You were starting to feel very agitated and uncomfortable like you already knew something bad was about to happen. "Look, Y/N, I think we‘ve been living in our own little world all this time but we just can‘t ignore the real world forever." "What do you mean?" You were shocked and heartbroken. Was Bucky really breaking up with you? And since when did he call you by your name? Normally he would refer to you by cute nicknames, mostly he would call you doll so much that his friends at first thought that that was your name. "It‘s just... you‘re too young for me. You're practically still a kid wanting to live their dream by trying to create a fashion brand with an itty bitty store. Whereas I‘m a cofounder of a well established firm who wants to start a family. We‘re in two different places in life and it‘s just not working. I mean your only 23 and I‘m in my forties. I need someone my age who I can marry and start a life with and you still have a lot to experience before you‘re able to settle down. You‘ll just resent me later on if I force you to grow up faster than you‘re supposed to." You were feeling numb. Too shocked to do or say anything. You only realized that you were crying once you saw the teardrops hitting your jacket that was folded over your arm.

"You can stay in the apartment as long as you need to find another place to stay. I‘m flying out to a conference and once I get back I‘ll move into my old condo." "So that‘s it. You suddenly decided to end it all over some comments other people you don‘t even know made? Don‘t I mean anything to you? I thought you loved me. How can you just throw it all away?" Bucky looked you in the eyes but you couldn‘t recognize the man you‘d fallen for anymore. His eyes were cold and detached like you were some nasty insect he wanted to get rid of. "Don‘t make this any harder on yourself. The faster you come to the realization that we never would have worked anyway the better. If you would be so nice as to let me leave now, I have a flight to catch that I can‘t miss because of your childish behavior. In the next couple of days someone is coming by to get the rest of my clothes. Oh and before I forget, here take this back it must have been expensive and you need the money more than I do." With that he gave you back the Rolex you had gifted him to his 40th birthday. You‘ve never felt so insulted „Really!? Is breaking my heart not enough for you? Do you have to insult me as well!? You can keep it. What should I do with it? I can‘t return it...remember it‘s engraved you egoistic, conceited asshole!" With that you shoved the watch back in his hand and ran off to the guestroom and looked it. A few minutes later you heard Bucky leaving the apartment and you.

Sitting on the floor you cried your eyes out. You‘ve never felt heartbreak like this before. Bucky had been everything you ever wanted but he just tossed you away like yesterday‘s trash. And the worst is that despite everything he just did and said to you, you‘re still not able to hate him. He still has your heart, sadly he doesn‘t want it no more.

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 28 - The Club

Once again just a friendly warning that this episode features and discusses teenage drinking

Varian stumbled out of bed and yawned. He looked at the clock and noticed the time. 6:30. Shoot! He was suppose to be up before six!

He threw on some clothes and rushed down stairs to the cafe.

Hiro and Aunt Cass were already down there setting up for the day.

"Sorry.. I slept in." He apologized. "Why didn't anybody wake me?"

"Oh well, I figured you could use the sleep. Besides it's only thirty after. Sit down and have some breakfast." Aunt Cass placed a couple of egg sandwiches on the table along with a cup of coffee and a cup of orange juice and encouraged the two boys to have a seat. While they both ate, Aunt Cass blithely carried on the conversation.

"So how did last night go?"

Varian eyed Hiro who glared at him over his sandwich but didn't say anything. "It went great actually. I even met someone while there."

"Oooh, that's wonderful sweetie. I'm so happy that you're making friends."

"Her name's Carol and she's a freshmen at the Art Institute. She just moved here from Mississippi, so she's new in town like I am."

"Oh, so she's what, 17... 18?"

"I..I honestly don't know. I didn't think to ask. But she invited me to another party tonight. If it's okay, I thought I might go. I could find out then."

"Another party?" Aunt Cass raised an eyebrow. It was a holiday weekend sure, but it was unusual to get invited to two parties in two days.

"Yeah, it's Jessica's birthday. She's Carol's friend and another person I met at the art school. They're all going to some restaurant to go dancing at. I forgot the name of the place, but Carol was going to text me directions if I could make it."

Aunt Cass thought a moment about it and then nodded along. "Well okay, just let me know where and text me when you get there. Also, once again, try not to stay out too late."

"Wait." Hiro interjected. He couldn't believe the ease with which Varian lied, nor could he believe that the other teen had just tricked Aunt Cass into letting him go out again to another wild party. He considered telling the truth right then and there, but the angry glare from Varian reminded Hiro of their argument last night and how Varian held dirt over himself as well. So he came up with an excuse instead. "I...I thought you wanted us all to spend more time together this weekend?"

"Well there's still Sunday tomorrow." Aunt Cass answered. "Why don't we have family movie night again? What do ya say? We could go out to the theater and catch a new release. I think their playing some sort of superhero movie this week."

The boys exchanged awkward glances but in the end agreed. Neither were ready to include Aunt Cass into their current feud. Besides she looked so happy at the thought of them all going out and spending time together as a family, that they just didn't have the heart to disappoint her.

They finished breakfast and Hiro left to meet with the rest of the gang. Varian however stayed to help with the cafe as promised.

"You know," Aunt Cass said while they washed up the morning dishes together. "I know it's only been a month, but I want you to know that we're all so glad to have you here. It hasn't been the easiest thing in the world readjusting, I know, but things are really working out; you're making friends, you and Hiro are really coming together here lately, and most of all you make our family just a little bit bigger and a whole lot happier just by being here."

She placed a loving hand on his shoulder, and Varian felt his heart drop at those worlds. He still didn't feel like he fit in here with the Hamadas and his relationship with Hiro had only degraded over this past week, which was already rocky enough to begin with. But Aunt Cass was so loving and hopeful that Varian only felt guilty for not measuring up to her ideals.

He gave her a small smile but deep down he couldn't wait to get out of here and back to another party. One where no one really knew who he was nor cared. Where he could drown out his intrusive thoughts and self doubt with a stiff drink.

"He went to the frat party?" Honey Lemon asked in worry.

                                                 --------------------------

Hiro was with the rest their friends at Joe's Dinner, recounting his argument with Varian last night.

"And you're sure he'd been drinking?" Gogo also asked with a frown.

"He said so himself and he smelt like beer when he came in." Hiro confirmed.

Gogo's eyes narrowed but she didn't say anything further.

"So what did you do?" Wasabi asked.

"Nothing. I..I wasn't sure how to tell Aunt Cass." Hiro looked around at his group of friends who were all giving him judgemental stares. "Look, I was still in my armor, alright. It was past midnight, and Varian had a point when he said that he covered for us all the time."

"You mean he covered for you ." Fred pointed out. "You're the one hiding your superheroing from Aunt Cass."

Hiro heaved a sigh, but Wasabi added his own opinion before he could offer up a defense. "You should have told her. Both about the drinking and about you being in big hero six. She's going to find out someday anyways and the longer you put it off the worst it's going to be."

Hiro cast his eyes downward unable to come up with a retort to that.

"Where's Varian now?" Gogo asked.

"Working at the Lucky Cat and after that he's going to another party."

"Another one?" Honey Lemon interjected.

"Someone he met at the other party invited him to go dancing tonight. He convinced Aunt Cass that it was just innocent birthday party." Hiro explained.

Everyone exchanged worried looks.

"You need to tell Aunt Cass." Gogo insisted.

"No, wait." Hiro pleaded. "Look, maybe we can handle this ourselves. Varian won't listen to me, but he might listen to all of you. Then there'd be no reason to involve Aunt Cass in any of this."

"And if he doesn't listen?" Fred asked.

"Hiro, why are you so against just letting an adult handle this?" Wasabi added.

"Look, Tadashi would go after him. He'd be there to help and try to reason with him, not be a snitch."

Hiro's explanation only elected more worried glances.

"And did it ever occur to you that Tadashi wasn't always in the right?" Gogo asked.

"What do you mean?" Hiro asked with trepidation.

Gogo sighed, "Look, we all miss Tadashi. He was a wonderful person… but that doesn't mean didn't make mistakes. Just because he kept trying to bail you out of those bot fights himself doesn't mean he should have."

Hiro had no words for that. Never in a million years would he have questioned Tadashi's methods. If it wasn't for his brother he would still have been bot fighting, and would have either been hurt or in juvie right now if not for trying to reach out to him.

He searched Gogo's eyes questioningly before she heaved a sigh in frustration and relented. "Fine. Where is this party?"

"I don't know. We'll probably have to just follow him; catch him before he gets there."

"Then I propose we suit up." Fred said. "To the headquarters!"

                                                --------------------------

Varian stood in line to get into Monroe's with Carol and the rest of her friends. He'd had rushed to find Jessica a birthday card and a small gift and met them all at the restaurant right around nine. Only the restaurant, wasn't a restaurant, it was called a 'club' instead. There was still food and drink to be had, but the real reason folks came here was to dance, and Varian could hear the loud thumping music even from where he stood outside.  

"Must be a really popular place." He shouted to Carol over the music and other party goers. "I don't see how we'll be able to dance with such a crowd."

Carol laughed "Yeah, Monroe's like the hottest spot in town. But there'll be room, the line just makes it look more crowded than it is."

Varian looked up ahead and spotted a large man at the front of the line. People were handing him cards or flashing their wallets towards him. Upon inspecting the cards he would then let them in through the door.

"What's he doing?" Varian asked.

Carol looked at him in surprise. "Checking I.D. They don't let you into the club unless you can prove your 21. That way they don't have to check everybody who wants to buy a drink inside."

Varian's heart stopped. No one here knew his actual age he realized. At the last party it didn't seem to matter so he hadn't brought it up, but here he'd be found out and no doubt made to look the fool all because he didn't meet some abritay requirement.

"I...I don't think they'll let me in then." Varian admitted to the girl.

"Why not?"

"Well, I haven't a license yet, and.." Varian was going to admit the truth but Carol interrupted.

"Oh, cause you just moved here." She nodded her head as if she had just figured out his problem. "Well you have some other sort of ID don't you? A passport or a visa?"

"Yeah I have both those things, but you don't understand.."

Carol placed a hand on his chest to stop him. "Don't worry boo. We got you. We'll make sure you get in." She gave him a smile and a wink.

"Wouldn't be first time we snuck someone in." Jake put in.

"It wouldn't?"

Jessica laughed. "You think we're all 21 one? I mean I am, it's my birthday, but I wasn't always. Besides it's a dumb law anyways."

"If you're old enough to vote and join the army, you should be old enough to drink." Another one of Carol's friends, Daryl, interceded.

Everyone in the group seemed to be in agreement with this sentiment and Varian relaxed just a little bit. Though only a little. He wasn't necessarily voting age either.

"There's no age laws in Corona. Everybody drinks." Varian added.

"That's right, Europe doesn't have the same laws as we do." Carol said as if only just now considering the difference.

"I went to Germany once." Mary said; she was Daryl's girlfriend. "I was in high school and was able to get into a bar no problem. They just don't care over there."

"I'd love to visit Europe someday." Carol said, changing the subject. "I think Ireland would be a cool place to visit."

"I'd like to see Spain." Jessica threw her opinion in. "Would you take me see Spain baby?" She asked of Jake teasingly.

"Sure, if you got a couple of thousands of dollars lying around." Jake joked.

This elected more laughter from the small group of poor college students, and Varian's worry began to wane. Only to kick back up once they reached the front of the line. Panicked he dug into his pocket and pulled out the fake passport that Professor Granville had given him.

"What's this?" The bouncer at the door said incredulously.

"It's a passport." Carol said forcefully before Varian could answer. "Ain't you ever seen a passport before?"

"It's not even in English." The guard threw back annoyed and he flipped the booklet around to show off the I.D.

"Well of course not." Carol rolled her eyes. "It's in Russian. He's from Russia."

"Ok, prove it. Say hello in Russian." The bouncer clearly didn't believe them.

"Um.. privyet?" Varian answered hesitantly. It was a bit of a loaded question as there was more than one way to say hello in Russian, but Varian defaulted to the more informal greeting as it's what he and his dad would use most often.

The guard raised an eyebrow still not convinced.

"I also have my visa and college I.D. if you want that instead." Varian offered helpfully as he pulled out his wallet. He didn't think it'd be enough to let him in but better to be cooperative then to start a fight.

Just then Daryl from behind them yelled, "Hey, what's the hold up!?"

The bouncer took a look at the long line spiraling behind them and rolled his eyes while heaving a frustrated sigh. He didn't have time for this. "Fine." He said as he handed back the passport. "Go on in."

"Thanks." Varian mumbled as he took the I.D. back. He couldn't believe that had just worked.

"Yeah!" Carol added and then stopped to ask Varian in a whisper. "Uh, how do you say thanks in Russian?"

"Spasibo." Varian replied.

"Yeah, Spasibo!" Carol called back to the security guard in very bad mispounation of the word before they headed into the club.

                                                --------------------------

"He's already left. We just missed him." Hiro said as he hung up the phone.

The gang huddled upon a rooftop across the street from the Lucky Cat. They had wanted to catch Varian while he was leaving, but it seemed like they were too late.

"Did your aunt say where he went?" Gogo asked.

"No, and I couldn't figure out a way to ask her without raising suspicion."

"Why not just call him instead?" Honey Lemon suggest. "Ask him himself where he's at and tell him we want to meet up."

"I doubt he'd want to talk to me" Hiro sighed.

"I'm on it." Wasabi said, but after several rings the call went to voicemail.

"Now what?" Fred asked.

"Looks like we'll just have to track him down the old fashioned way." Hiro said as he walked over to Baymax and mounted the robot. "Let's go."

Everyone dispersed to look for the wayward teen.

                                                --------------------------

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" The merry group chanted as Varian and Jessica competed to see who could finish a whole pint of beer first. The others having given up the challenge before hand. They were neck and neck but the birthday girl sputtered with laughter at the last minute and Varian scored the win. He slammed the empty mug on the the table with a wide grin as the rest of the gang applauded.

"Ok, you win," Jessica conceded. "But beer is easy. I'd like to see you try that with some hard stuff, like whiskey or tequila."

"I don't know what tequila is, but your on!" Varian shouted over the den of noise.

The club was dark and smoky, with the only light coming from the flashing strobe globe twirling above the dance floor. Music blared a thumping beat that resonated in your chest and patrons crowded around to dance, drink, and make out. The little group had taken up a small round table off in the corner so as the better hear each other talk, but even then one had to half yell to be heard.

"Hey, can we get some shots over here?" Jake called to a waitress, then he turned to Varian and said, "Okay, you wanna play? We'll do a round of shots. Most down the hatch wins. Loser pays for the drinks."

"Deal" Varian agreed.

The waitress brought a tray of shots and Varian eyed the small glasses smugly. You could down one in a single gulp. This would be easy he thought. Only to nearly lose with the first sip alone. Whatever this tequila was, it was stronger than either ale or wine and burned the back of his throat as it went down. He finished the drink and tried to suppress a cough.

"Not as easy as you thought it was, hun?" Jake smiled as he picked up his second glass.

Varian however was not one to give up easily, and besides he really didn't want to blow through all of his hard earned money in one night. So he steeled himself and grabbed another shot, and then a another, and another.

On the fourth shot Varian saw Jake starting to slow, his face becoming red from alcohol. Varian too was becoming lightheaded but he pressed on and nabbed his fifth drink. He didn't notice if Jake had drunk his fifth yet or not, he was too focused on winning, but as he reached for the sixth he heard the other guy call out defeat.

"Okay, okay! You win!"

Varian flashed a grin and drunk the sixth anyway in celebration; just to rub it into other college kid's face. This last glass he also slammed hard upon the table in victory as the tiny crowd around him cheered.

Jake pulled out his wallet to pay the tab, both annoyed and begrudgingly impressed that he had lost.

"You're like the scrawniest guy alive; where do you put it all?" Daryl asked incredulously.

Varian shrugged his shoulders as he had no real answer to give.

"Well let's take a break from the booze for a while." Carol interceeded. "I mean we came here to dance after all. That is if you boys can still stand after all that."

She tugged on Varian's sleeve and pulled him to the dance floor and the rest of group followed after them.

Varian stood in the middle of the floor at a lost of what to do. He wasn't a bad dancer persay, but he didn't know any American steps and he doubted any of the more traditional folk dances that he knew would fit with this type of music.

"So..how does this dance go?" He shouted Carol above the music.

She laughed, "Anyway you want it to. Just feel the music." She swayed her hips in time to the beat to give him an idea.

Varian figured he would look silly doing that, it was clearly more of a move for women, but he did see most of the men jumping up and down and so he tried this in time with the music.  

"Yeah, that's right! You got it!" Carol encouraged as she slid closer to him.

"Any luck?" Gogo asked Hiro as the gang gathered on top of a building in the middle of downtown.  

Embolden, he grabbed her hand and gave her a twirl. This enlightened more laughter and they both broke down into giggles before carrying on with their dance.

                                                --------------------------

"Baymax found an energy reading similar to Varian's close by, but it's fuzzy. He's probably in one of the buildings around here, but there's like eight or more clubs just on this street." Hiro explained.

"Well we can probably go in and check while you can stay out here and keep an eye on things." Honey Lemon suggested.

"Yeah, but there's no guarantee they'd let any of us in either." Fred pointed out."None of us are over 21."

"Look maybe we're over reacting here?" Wasabi offered optimistically. "What makes you think Varian could of snuck into any of these places? The kid still looks like he's twelve and he doesn't even have a driver license. Or it could even be that he was telling the truth about it being an innocent birthday par...."

He paused mid-thought as they heard a familiar laugh coming from the street below.

"I have found Varian." Baymax said, stating the obvious as they all peered over the roof to see their friend drunkenly walk out of one of the clubs across the street. He was with a short girl with a dark curly afro and they were giggling over something as they made their way towards the bus stop nearby.

"Or he could be stumbling out of a bar with a drunk girl hanging on his arm." Wasabi corrected himself, clearly disappointed.

Honey Lemon frowned. "I know her...she's in the sorority at SFAI."

"Carol." Gogo confirmed. She had been dragged to the occasional makeup party there, by Honey Lemon herself no less. "But she's a freshman. No way she's old enough to be drinking either."

"Peer pressure can often persuade people into partaking in unsafe activities." Baymax stated as he launched into his health education protocols. "If someone is pressuring you into doing something that you don't feel is safe; say no and walk away..."

"Uh, yes, Baymax. We know." Hiro informed the robot.

"So do we go down there now to talk to him, ooorrrr..." Fred asked, but the arrival of the bus answered for him. Varian and the girl boarded the public transport before anyone could to do anything.

They all exchanged worried and exasperated looks with each other before taking off to follow the tram.

Varian stood in the middle of the bus holding on to one of the center poles. He and Carol were the only two occupants aboard besides the driver, and he could have sat down anywhere, but he was beginning to feel woozy from all the alcohol and standing upright helped to keep him balanced.

                                                --------------------------

Carol however decided to sit down. She sat across from him with her face in the palm of her hand and her eyes sleepily staring out at nothing in particular.

"Do you have to work tomorrow too?" She asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

"Uh..not sure. Probably. I usually work weekends. Either way though, I know my aunt has been talking about us all spending some 'quality family time' together all weekend long."

Carol smiled. "Responsible, family man, a great dancer, it's a wonder you're still single."

Varian blushed but laughed off her comment. "Responsible? Me? Yeah, no…..but family does mean a lot to me and I did promise Aunt Cass, soooo, sorry I had to bail out early again. But you know, you could have stayed at the party without me."

Carol shrugged. "Eh, I was about done anyways. The guys are fun to hang out with and all, but after awhile you start to feel like a fifth wheel, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know how that feels like." Varian agreed dryly.

"But you do know you didn't have to escort me home right?" Carol added with a laugh.

"I know, I just, I wanted to make sure you got home safe."

"Ever the true gentlemen, hun?"

Her smile grew wider and Varian couldn't tell if she was teasing or flirting. He rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. He was beginning to like this new girl, but he wasn't always the best at picking up social cues and he didn't want to ruin anything by being presumptuous.

"Well, I don't know about that, but looking out for one another is just what friends do, right?"

Carol looked surprised by that comment. "I..I guess…I have a hard time picturing Jake or Daryl doing anything so chivalrous through."

She snickered at that, but Varian tilted his head in confusion.  

"But I thought you guys were friends?"

"Oh don't get me wrong, they're good people and all, it's just all we do is hang out at parties sometimes. I don't expect them to like loan me money or come and bail me out of the slammer or anything. We ain't that close."

She sounded nonchalant but Varian nevertheless grew concerned.

"Then who is?" He asked.

Carol was caught off guard by that question.

"Who do you call when you need help?" He clarified.

She opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out and she just as quickly closed it again. They awkwardly stared at each other for a few moments before the bus came to a stop in front of the SFAI campus. Carol quickly got up and hurried off the tram. Varian rushed after her.

"I'm sorry! Did I say something wrong?"

She didn't answer him but instead started to storm up the front porch steps in front of the sorority house.

"Look, I didn't mean to offend you." He called after. "I..I just…"

He trailed off and she paused on the stair. She didn't turn to face him, but the very fact that she was no longer running away encouraged him to try again.

"Look, I just, I know what it's like to be on your own, and I know how hard it is to move someplace where you don't really know anybody and nothings familiar and you don't feel like you always fit in. I.. I just meant that if you ever needed someone, for anything, you could call me...you know, if..if you wanted to.. that is."

She finally turned to look at him with that admission. There was a pout on her face and tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she tried to make a joke instead to distract from this.

"You know most folks don't talk like you do." She half heartedly laughed. "You sound like a character out of a cheap rom-com."

He offered her a small smile. "Eh, well, what can I say? I am Russian remember."

They broke down into soft giggles at that.

"You wanna come inside and grab a coffee?" She asked after there laughter had subsided.

"Oh, I'd love to, buuuut it's after one. I should probably get going soon." He declined.

"Well alright, but you have my number, so don't be a stranger." She said before giving him a wink and another of her charming smiles.

She waved him goodbye before heading inside. Varian waved back and then turned to leave, only to be confronted by the rest of his friends waiting for him at the bus stop.

They were dressed in their armor and stood there glaring at him sternly.

"Hey...guys.." Varian slowly said, confused as to why they were here."What's going on?"

"We could ask you the same thing." Gogo replied.

"Uh...well, I'm heading home from a party, soooo..." He made to leave, fully ready to just walk to the next stop instead of hanging around for yet another argument, but Wasabi placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Do have any idea what an incredibly stupid thing you just did today?" His friend asked.

Varian cast him an angry pout and back-peddled away defensively. He stumbled a little, still feeling tipsy from the tequila, but righted himself before falling.

"You can barely even stand up." Wasabi admonish, further driving home his point.

Varian huffed in frustration and threw an accusing glare at Hiro. He was getting really tired of everyone judging him and he rightly guessed that the other boy had dragged their other friends into this. However before he could respond, Gogo laid into him instead.

"You broke your promise."

Varian's stomach dropped as he realized that, yes, he had indeed went back on his word about not trying to purchase alcohol. Yet, he still wasn't ready to admit fault. Who were they to act so high and mighty? It was just a few drinks? It wasn't like he had hurt anybody.

"So what's it to you?" He threw back."It's not like what I do affects any of you. Me going to a party now and then doesn't harm anyone."

"B..but you could get hurt." Honey Lemon timidly said.

Varian looked at her confused. What did she mean hurt? It was just a party.

"You snuck into a club at sixteen with bunch of strangers." Fred explained. "Like that's just ain't safe, man."

"Fred's right," Wasabi added, "anything could have happened to you in there and we wouldn't have known."

And for the first time, Varian started to actually feel guilty as he realized just how worried his friends were for him. However his defensiveness kicked back up when Hiro added his two cents.

"You need to stop and think about what you're doing first. You can't just keep jumping into situations without…"

" Oh knock it off!" Varian interrupted. "I am sick and and tired of everyone telling me what I can and can't do! I've been on my own since I was fourteen! I know how to take care of myself, alright!"

"No you don't." Gogo pushed back. "You know how to survive, and I hate that you had to, but that's not the same thing as actually being mature. Now just stop and come with us; we're taking you home."

She reached out to grab hold of Varian's sleeve and to pull him along, but Varian wouldn't comply. He wasn't entirely sure what happened next, in his addled state, but she pulled in one direction and he tugged his arm away in another. Either her blades rolled out from under her or he didn't realize his own strength, but either way Gogo wound up lying flat on the ground after their struggle.

Everyone froze in shock and Varian felt his heart race as his anger turned into alarm and shame.

"Gogo!" Honey Lemon rushed to her friend's side to help her up. "Are you alright?"

Gogo refused the help however. Instead she gave Varian a hurtful and angry glare as she picked herself off the ground. His breath shallowed as he waited for her to go off again, but all she did was shake her head at him, turned around, and then skated away.

That was somehow even worse than a lecture.

Honey Lemon followed after her.

"Dude, what is wrong with you!?" Hiro reprimanded and all Varian could do was look at him with wide eyes. What was wrong with him?

"I...I...I don't know!" He choked." I just...I just wanted to forget… just for a little awhile. Forget that I'm...I'm.. b-broken."

"And how does this help?" Wasabi asked, and Varian had no answer.

"Look, I know you've been through some really messed up stuff." Wasabi continued. "More than most people ever will, and I'm sorry you had to go through that, but you can't keep on like this." He sighed in defeat. "Come and gets us when your ready to actually deal with things." And then he too turned and started to walk off.

Fred cast worried glances between Varian and the direction of where their friends were leaving, unsure of what to do. Ultimately, he too turned away and reluctantly made after the rest of the group.

Varian could hardly see through the tears now. They were leaving him. Everyone was leaving him. They always did at some point, and here he had dared to hope things might just be different in this new world. Yet, he had no one to blame but himself.

That's when he noticed Hiro and Baymax still standing there, watching him disquitedly.

"Well, aren't you going to leave too?" He asked accusingly.

Hiro took a moment to find the answer, but when he did he said, "Why should I? We're going to the same place, remember." He held out a hand to Varian. "Come on, Aunt Cass is waiting."

Varian blinked through his tears to see Hiro standing before him with his arm outstretched and a look of concern on his face. Varian's breath quickened and his vision swam. He had felt lightheaded all night and now the added stress of the recent fight only seemed to highlight just how drunk he really was. He was so sure he had been careful, that he hadn't really had that much, but that didn't stop the ground from rushing up to meet him as he fell, nor the darkness enclosing around him as he fainted dead away.

[songblurb]

just like highschool | song mingi x reader

word count: 1246

best friend mingi, fluff, swearing

mingi’s been your best friend since high school, and you’re not sure how you’d ever make it through life with him

Work always felt long, working in a cafe meant early mornings, and working at the bar it transitioned to in the evening meant late nights. The paycheck was okay, and the tips were always nice, but sometimes you wondered if the stress was worth it. It was worth it, you loved your coworkers and your manager, and you were great as a server and bartender. Maybe if you could just sleep for one week straight, you’d feel more positive about it.

You had just finished your third and final double of the weekend, closing on Saturdays kind of sucked but you were so close to being done that you didn’t care about how bad your feet hurt or how sore your back was. Since it was so cold outside, the usual crowd you saw on weekend nights whittled down to your regulars and a few groups of friends celebrating birthdays. This meant you could finish most of your closing tasks before you closed, leaving closing out the register as the only thing needing done.

Lost in numbers, wanting so badly to go home, you had laser focus until your coworker spoke up from beside the bar. “Hey, y/n, I think someone’s trying to get your attention?” slowly bringing your head up and away from the cash drawer, you squinted until you saw a tall figure in a body length black coat making faces through the window. He placed a grossly wet kiss on the glass when he realized he finally caught your gaze, and you couldn’t help but break into a goofy grin. “If you want to go, I can finish the drawer for you,” almost as soon as she finished that statement, you hopped over the counter and hugged her, “you’re a real one for this! I’ll cover a shift sometime”! “You’re always here anyway, letting you leave twenty minutes early is literally the least I can do.” You let her go and grabbed your bag and coat from the back, yelling an excited “have a great night, love you for this one!” as you ran out the door.

As soon as you were out the door, you tossed your things to the ground and threw your arms around the figure waiting for you. “Mingi! I didn’t know you were supposed to be in town!” You felt him chuckle, squeezing you into the hug before letting go of you, “I wasn’t, but I missed you so much I booked a train three days ago and left the same night, I just got in before I came here.” He grabbed your coat from where you discarded it and started wrapping it around your form as he threw the bag over his shoulders, a smile plastered on his face. “I skipped work and class, getting fired or failing exams don’t mean as much to me as my best friend does.” “Dude what the fuck, they should definitely be a higher priority.”

Mingi laughed, shaking his head as you walked down the street toward your car, “It’s been over a year since we’ve seen each other, I traveled all the way across the country on a whim and you’re really going to scold me for it?” “Like yeah I love you and all but jesus christ Min.” The two of you were almost doubled in laughter, the conversation wasn’t even funny, but there was just something about being together that made both of you infinitely happier. “No, I’m so happy you’re here, literally nothing could make me happier than I am right now seeing you.”

Just talking like normal, the usual fifteen minute walk to the parking garage you frequently used felt like it took literal seconds. Digging the keys out of your coat pocket, you unlocked the beat up car your dad passed down to you when you started driving. Sliding into the driver’s seat, you watched as Mingi opened the passenger door and immediately reclined the seat back before sitting down, just like he would in highschool. As you started the car and backed out of your parking spot, he grabbed the cord plugged into your stereo, claiming the music you would be listening to on your drive home. As you went to pull your parking ticket from your visor, Mingi snatched it from your hands and hopped out of the car, “What the hell are you doing?” He gave you a mischievous smile before running up and paying for your parking, jumping back in as you drove toward the now open gate. “Extra rider fee, it wouldn’t be fair if you paid for it.” Letting out a frustrated sigh, you rolled down the window as you also turned the heat on high.

Knowing exactly what you were thinking, Mingi turned the radio up to its loudest volume as you began singing and yelling together, just like highschool. Instead of driving straight home, you drove aimlessly around the city, only stopping to spend too much on junk food in the Taco Bell drive-thru. It was almost two by the time you pulled into your reserved spot behind your apartment building, manually locking your doors as the two of you made your way into the complex. Walking to the sixth floor, you wiggled your key into the door of your home before pushing it open and once again dropping your stuff to the floor. You turned on a few lamps, illuminating your carefully decorating living and kitchen area.

“This place just screams ‘Hey! I’m y/n, and I fucking live here”! “Well I do live here, so I would hope it yells that.” Mingi kicked off his shoes as he laid out on your couch, reaching his arms out for you to go and sit with him. Just like high school, you leaned to take a seat on the floor in front of him, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you down toward him, causing you to fall onto his chest. You roll over so your side is wedged between him and the couch, “Wait, where’s all of your stuff?” you asked as you laid your head on his shoulder. “I knew I left plenty here the last time I visited so I literally brought myself, my phone and my wallet, that’s it.” The vibrations of his laugh ran through your body, it was comforting to feel again.

That’s how you fell asleep that night, squished between Mingi and your couch as random Youtube videos played through on your tv. Life was stressful, and sometimes you wanted to sleep for a week straight, just to gain some energy back. After resting those few hours next to your best friend, though, you felt as if you had slept an entire season. Since highschool, he made things better for you. He listened and helped and laughed and cried and sang and yelled and spent every moment he could with you. He was there for you when you did and didn’t need him, the literal best friend a person could ever have. The fact you had stayed so close for so long, even after living a three day train ride away from each other, really spoke for itself. You weren’t a couple, and you don’t think you ever will be, but that was fine. Sometimes the love of a friend did even more than that of a lover, and Mingi’s love and friendship was something you wanted to keep forever. He made you happy, he made you you.

[officiallyheadcanon]

Birthday Wish

So apparently it’s Arthur Fleck’s birthday today. I wrote this story last week because I was disappointed in how my birthday turned out. (It’s okay though, my mom bought me awesome Harry Potter stuff the next day and my birthday weekend was awesome and made up for it).

I hope you guys like this. I should warn you it’s sad, but part two will be much happier.

Arthur overslept and was in a hurry to get to work. After making his mother a quick oatmeal breakfast, he grabbed a piece of toast for himself and took a bite as he got dressed. His mother called out for him to remember to send out her letter to Thomas Wayne. He rolled his eyes as he zipped up his jacket.

“Will do,” he said. “Anything else?”

“Don’t forget to buy a birthday cake,” his mother reminded him before he walked out the door.

“You remembered.” A small smile tugged on his lips.

“Of course I did. It was 30 hours of the most excruciating pain of my life. And then I got you. Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

#

He went to the local bakery and browsed. He didn’t really like most cake flavors. Maybe because he didn’t get a lot of sweets growing up. Chocolate and vanilla were good, but he’d never developed a taste for carrot cake, spice cake, or anything else. Most of the cakes at the store were large, meant for a big family or a party. There were a few smaller options. Single and double slices of cake sat on the bottom row. They were cheaper and would be less wasteful to buy, but he didn’t see any flavors he liked.

“Can I help you?”

Arthur looked up, his heart beating quickly under the stare of the woman behind the counter. She was much older, around his mother’s age. She didn’t have an attitude but the way she stared at Arthur was like she was trying to read his mind. He swallowed, trying to calm himself before her attention sent him into a fit of painful laughter.

“Just looking for a birthday cake.” He forced a smile.

“Whose birthday is it?”

His smile vanished. Nervousness rose again and he fought to push it down. It felt like everyone in the store was waiting for him to answer even though no one was looking at him. And why would they, no one ever notices me, he thought. A giggle escaped him. He covered his mouth with his hand.

“Or don’t tell me. That’s fine.” The woman shrugged.

“Mine,” he said.

“You’re picking out your own birthday cake?” She frowned, and Arthur couldn’t tell if she was pitying him or if she didn’t believe it.

“I mean my mother’s,” he said. “It’s her birthday.”

“Oh. Well, we got some nice floral cakes over here. Oreo flavored, chocolate, Devil’s chocolate, vanilla.” She gestured to the left side of the refrigerated section, toward cakes meant for people who expected a crowd.

“Actually, I think I’ll just take this.” He grabbed a pre-packaged container with two different slices of cake from the section marked “Clearance”. He didn’t even look; he just wanted to get away from everyone. He regretted walking in. He should have just told his mother they ran out of cakes.

“Clearance cake for your mama? Okay.”

“It’s just her and me. There’s no point in getting a big cake.” The woman shrugged again. He let out a small huff, wondering why he felt compelled to explain himself to a stranger. She finished ringing him up. He paid and grabbed his container before she could bag it. He took long, quick strides until he was on the street again. The air stank, but it felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest when he stepped out of the store.

He looked down at the cake slices. Carrot cake and pineapple. Of course. He rolled his eyes and started walking home.

#

“Hey Mom, I’m home.” He put the cake and deli sandwiches on the counter so he could shrug off his jacket. There was no response. He went into his mother’s room and found her sleeping. He glanced at the clock. He had gotten home a little later than usual. He nudged his mother awake.

“Oh hello,” she said in a sleepy voice.

“Are you ready to eat?”

She nodded. She started ranting about a dream she’d had about Thomas Wayne coming to save her from a monster. Arthur rolled his eyes. The deli forgot to cut her sandwich so he did it, and opened her chips and drink before fixing his own plate. They watched the Murray show like they did most nights. He was about to ask her if she was ready for cake when she started snoring. He sighed.

He cleaned up their plates. He pulled out a single white candle, one left over from last year. He opened the cake container and stuck the candle on the pineapple slice, thinking it looked more appetizing than the other one. He couldn’t remember ever tasting pineapple cake and thought he’d give it a shot. He took out his lighter and lit the wick. He carried the cake to his desk and sat down, humming the happy birthday song.

“Happy Birthday, dear Arthur,” he sang. “Happy Birthday to you.”

He closed his eyes and made a wish. He didn’t really know what to wish for. He wasn’t sure what would make him happier. A work gig that he actually enjoyed? Doing a stand-up routine where people laughed and cheered? Having a girlfriend? Or even just a friend, besides his mother? These all felt out of reach, like wishing to win the lottery when he didn’t even play.

Instead, he wished for something simple. He knew he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone his birthday wish or it wouldn’t come true, but he said it out loud anyway. It wasn’t like anyone was listening.

“I just don’t want to feel so bad anymore.”

He blew out the candle. He took a bite of his cake, his mother’s voice telling him that he had to if he wanted his wish fulfilled. The mushy texture felt wrong on his tongue. He swallowed it, then lit a cigarette to get the taste out of his mouth. He sighed and looked at the clock again. 12:04.

At least his birthday was over. He knew tomorrow wouldn’t be any better, but at least being unhappy on the other 364 days out of the year didn’t feel like he was failing at life quite as badly.

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (15) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex)- Ortega

a/n: oh u thought the worst of the angst was over? it’s only just begun. apologies in advance hnggggggg. love is always appreciated here or over on my blog! love and hugs xxxxxxxxx

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: Scarlet helped Vanessa deal with the aftermath of the breakup, aided by lecture-skipping and the prospect of a pink-haired rebound. Monet was gearing up to ask Nina to be her girlfriend in the most elaborate of ways, and Scarlet and Yvie finally said the most important three words to each other since “let’s get takeaway”.

this chapter: it’s Valentine’s Day, Brooke is a living flip flop, and something happens that nobody saw coming.

***

“Ayo. We’ve got a mouse.”

Brooke finally got her jacket off that she’d been struggling with and faced Yvie, who was lounging on the sofa in their little living room in front of the TV. “Well isn’t that a romantic Valentine’s Day greeting.”

“Well we do,” Yvie shrugged, Brooke leaving her bag on the kitchen table and joining Yvie in front of Coronation Street. “This storyline has been going for about a year, I swear to God.”

“Should you not be out doing romantic shit with Scarlet?” Brooke asked, hearing how monotone her voice was but unable to take it back now. Yvie looked across at her and raised an eyebrow.

“She’s got uni. I’m picking her up from her flat at five, we’re going for drinks and then out to the restaurant.”

“Picking her up with what, your bare hands?” Brooke let out a small laugh, Yvie chucking a couch cushion at her and snorting.

“Shut up. I’ll get an uber. I might even get an uber exec, really push the boat out,” she quipped, Brooke laughing again. As her laughter died down, Yvie tilted her head. “So what’re your plans for tonight?”

Brooke groaned and tilted her head to the ceiling. “I’ll be fine. I’ll stick on some films, eat some chocolate. Maybe skype my parents. I’ll be fine.”

“You said that twice.”

“Well I will be.”

Yvie made a click with her tongue. “And we all know the hallmark of a person who’s fine is if they have to repeat it about twenty billion times.”

“Yvie Oddly, ladies and gentlemen, queen of exaggeration,” Brooke said sarcastically, Yvie giving a sarcastic flourish of her hand right back at her. In the conversational lull, Brooke checked her phone. All over her instagram page there were couples; disgusting, happy couples who really were just making an embarrassment of themselves with their totally cringeworthy captions. “Happy Valentine’s Day to my number one” with every heart emoji under the sun, “happy vday baby i love u” beneath a picture of someone’s boyfriend pulling a silly face, and the worst, “he’s ok”, the understated caption contrasted by the horrendously soppy picture of a couple that Brooke knew from back home kissing for the camera.

Brooke had a cheek, she supposed. She’d made her bed- breaking up with Vanessa, as difficult as it was, was supposed to make her happier and make everything go back to normal. But it hadn’t. Knowing how much she’d hurt Vanessa brought no happiness to her at all, nor did it make her life any easier. Seeing her post sad, slow R&B song after sad, slow R&B song to her instagram story didn’t alleviate her guilt, nor did her radio silence on the group chat. Brooke had seen her only once since the breakup- across the square on campus when Vanessa didn’t realise Brooke could see her, flanked by Silky and Akeria, wearing baggy clothes and not a scrap of makeup, her face and eyes puffy and red. There was nothing about Brooke that was relieved; she desperately wanted to be there for Vanessa, to dry her tears and talk shit about herself. She had the deepest desire to be a friend to her through the breakup she had been the cause of, because ultimately she still cared about her. Brooke didn’t know if that was normal or not. She was past caring or trying to figure it out.

What was she going to do tonight? Yvie was out with Scarlet, Nina was at Monet’s right that minute. Plastique had told her in the library the other day that she was going for drinks with Ariel (“the most casual of drinks”, she’d said, although Brooke knew it would be anything but casual). She didn’t know what the others would be doing. Akeria would probably drag Vanessa on a night out and Silky wouldn’t need much encouragement to go either. It looked like Brooke was in for a night by herself after all.

Mid-scroll, one of the uploads caught Brooke’s eye- a photo from months back at Vanessa’s birthday night out of all eight of them together, dressed up and smiling with their arms around each other. It was only a few seconds later that Brooke realised she was smiling at it, completely unaware that her facial expression had changed. She wished they could all go back to October. She would exchange all the hurt and the guilt and the sadness that she’d caused in exchange for pining for Vanessa for the rest of her days. Her eyes drifted down to the caption, and her stomach plummeted when she realised who it was posted by.

missvanjiemissvanjie Happy Valentine’s Day to my day ones! Best bitches I could ask for in my life. Love you!! 💓

Brooke scanned the photo again. She hadn’t been cropped out, even though she was on the edge of the photo- the curse of being tall, Nina had called it. Her heart began to spring to life. This was a good sign. Vanessa clearly didn’t hate her, and somewhere deep inside her was a want to be friends again and go back to how things used to be. Injected with optimism, Brooke clicked on Vanessa’s messages. She paused for a moment, looking back at the last ones they’d sent- the day of the breakup, Brooke asking to talk, Vanessa wondering if everything was alright. It felt like a harpoon to her stomach.

Trying to stay positive, Brooke typed out a message.

B: Hey. Hope you’re doing okay. I know we said we still wanted to try and be friends so I was wondering if you wanted to maybe hang out tonight? Just as friends obviously. Since everyone else will be busy. Let me know.

Brooke’s finger hovered over the “x”. She decided against it. Hitting send, she found herself waiting anxiously for a reply.

“How do you know we have a mouse anyway?” Brooke asked Yvie, her words suddenly registering. Yvie shrugged.

“Ran across the worktop about five minutes before you came in.”

“What the hell are we going to do about it, then? I don’t want to even imagine what Nina’s reaction’s going to be if she sees it,” Brooke shuddered.

Yvie laughed. “No, Scarlet’s going to be the same. I don’t know, she looked like a nice lil’ fucker. I think we should get a cage. Put a block of cheese in it and then keep her as a pet."

Brooke felt her phone vibrate twice. Picking it up to check it and seeing that both the messages were from Vanessa, she nonchalantly carried on the conversation. "So Scarlet would be fine with that, would she?”

“Scarlet isn’t here all the time.”

“No, just 99% of it,” Brooke raised her eyebrows, opening Vanessa’s messages.

V: lmao

V: Are you on crack. You broke my heart two weeks ago and now you’re trying to be my friend already. Have you never heard of a thing called a healing process?

Brooke felt her stomach tense. She hovered her thumbs over her screen to reply, but nothing she thought of seemed to make sense or be the slightest bit appropriate. Despondent, she was about to close her phone when another message shot through.

V: And I’m busy anyway. So it still would have been a no.

Well, that was that. Vanessa was out with Silky and Akeria, and clearly she wasn’t invited. That was fine. Brooke could have kicked herself. She instantly wished she’d never been so tone-deaf. It had been a stupid suggestion. Of course Vanessa wasn’t going to be best friends with her a fortnight after they’d broken up.

Brooke couldn’t help the fact that she missed her, though. Even just as a friend.

“Hey, panini head? Are you listening to me?” Yvie suddenly yelled, her best Gordon Ramsay impersonation catching Brooke off-guard.

“What?”

“I said, would you look after Mrs Tibbs if I went home for the weekend?”

Brooke rubbed her temples in confusion. “Who’s Mrs-”

“The mouse! Jesus, Brooke, have you been on this earth for the past five minutes?” Yvie laughed, then gradually a frown spread onto her face. “What’s wrong?”

Brooke hadn’t realised she’d been showing her guilt and disappointment on her face. She sighed. “It’s nothing. I just still feel bad. About Vanessa, you know.”

Yvie furrowed her brow. “Listen, girl, I know dumping someone is hard and it’s unpleasant. Shit, I would know, I’ve had to do it enough times. But there comes a point where you’ve got to stop beating yourself up about it. I mean you ultimately did what was best for the pair of you. It wasn’t fair to string her along if you didn’t want to be with her. It hurts her now, but it’s better in the long run.”

Brooke nodded. Part of her couldn’t help but wonder…

…it didn’t matter.

Brooke’s phone vibrated again. She hoped and prayed it wasn’t another text from Vanessa to berate her for her shitty idea. What was to come would actually make her feel a hundred times worse.

Okay Then: happy valentines day fuckers!!!!!!! even though im out being soppy tonight i still want u all to know that ur my main bitches and number ones and i love u all sm 💖💖💖

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: You’re disgusting. Love you too hoe xxxxxx

Yvie’s Bitch: Awwwwwww Plastique!!!!! We love you too!!!!

Yvie’s Bitch: What’re everyone’s plans for Valentine’s Day?????

Scarlet’s Bitch: i don’t know i’ve got plans with this weird girl called……Scarface? idk i’ll probs cancel on her

Yvie’s Bitch: Suck my clit x

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag For Life: Children PLEASE

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: HAPPY INTERNATIONAL DAY OF FUCKING

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: ME N KIKI GOING OUT ON THE TOWN LOOKING FOR THIRD DIVISION FOOTBALL PLAYERS

Okay Then: oh bitch aim high? second division xo

Brooke’s heart dropped twenty storeys when she saw who was typing. Their names on the chat had been quietly changed back, but Brooke still knew who it was.

cursed SatNav voice: Happy Valentine’s Day hoes 💓💓💓

cursed SatNav voice: Even though all you couples can suck a bag of dicks

Scarlet’s bitch: gladly, bitch 💜

Okay Then: Vanj are u not going out with Silk n Kiki?? bc if not ur welcome to join me n Ariel!! it’s just casual!!

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: YES PLASTIQUE IM SURE SHED LOVE TO THIRD WHEEL U AND UR HONEYMOON PHASE FLATMATE

Akeria Sainsbury’s Bag for Life: anna ou

cursed SatNav voice: 💓 That’s sweet but I’m busy tonight!! Thanks though boo

incongruous silkworm spiced praline: SHE GOT A DATE ANYWAY

Time seemed to freeze. Brooke couldn’t move. Couldn’t even breathe. All she was able to do was blink at her phone screen as the chat blew up around her. It was only after a few moments that she realised Yvie was looking at her.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Um. Yeah, no, I’m fine,” Brooke stammered, nodding and putting her phone down in a futile effort to seem relaxed. Yvie gave a laugh.

“Brooke, you can’t break up with her and then get mad she’s going on a date with someone else.”

Brooke bristled. “No, that’s not it, that’s not it at all.”

There was a small silence as Yvie typed away at her screen, her eyebrows raised in a defiant show of disbelief. In the silence, Brooke gathered her thoughts.

“I’m just kinda…I don’t know. Not hurt, but…I mean I thought she cared about me a bit more than to be over me in the space of two weeks.”

Yvie gave a gasp, clutching at her heart. “Oh! The fragile ego of Miss Brooke Lynn Hytes. The wings of a moth cannot compare, nor the web of a spider!”

“You know, you can be a really shit friend when you want to be,” Brooke spat, getting up without a second thought and storming through to her bedroom. She threw herself down on her bed and curled up into a small ball, wishing the world would give her a break.

Her ego was hurt. Her pride was battered and bruised. She supposed she’d been so used to being revered and cared for in the eyes of Vanessa that she found it odd for that to no longer be the case. Brooke sighed. Yvie was right- she wasn’t supposed to care this much, she was supposed to be happy. Fuck, shouldn’t this have been the ideal outcome? Vanessa had moved on already.

So why did Brooke feel absolutely gutted?

She sat on her bed in the cold of her room, stewing in her thoughts, trying to figure them out and failing. She didn’t know how long she’d been there for but it had clearly been enough time for Yvie to make a cup of tea, as Brooke found when her flatmate gave a gentle knock on her door and shuffled in with the Sports Direct mug in her hand.

“Hey,” Yvie began, crossing the room and putting the mug down on Brooke’s cluttered bedside table. She sighed and lay down on top of Brooke in what could have been a cuddle or an attempt at smothering her to death. “Brooky, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t. She used to call me that and…” Brooke began, sighing when she couldn’t figure out why she had an issue with it. “I don’t know.”

Brooke wrestled an arm free from under Yvie’s stomach and brought it to rest over her back. It felt more like a cuddle now.

“I knew she was going on a date, by the way. Scarlet told me the other day. I just didn’t think you’d give a fuck,” Yvie said quietly. Brooke exhaled and felt her ribcage deflate.

“I didn’t think I would either,” she said, feeling small. There was a pause. “What’s her name?”

“Monique. The girl from Monet’s party with the purple hair,” Yvie said. It felt like a stab through Brooke’s chest. She remembered Monique, she remembered the way Vanessa had laughed at her stories and the way Monique had looked at her and the obvious chemistry between them. “If it helps, Brooke, I don’t think it’s going to be anything serious. Scarlet said that apparently she literally gave Vanjie her number and was like ‘In case you ever want a rebound’. They’ve been messaging all week. Tonight’s more of a 'fuck Valentine’s Day’ drink than anything else.”

Brooke thought about Vanessa’s perfect body, about her touching Monique the way she used to touch Brooke, talking to her like she used to talk to Brooke, someone else making her come apart the way Brooke used to. Brooke rolled out from under Yvie, grabbed her pillow, and buried her face in it, letting out a long, loud groan.

“Do you feel like you fucked it?” Brooke heard Yvie’s voice ask matter-of-factly. Brooke brought the pillow off her face and whined.

“No! No, I made the right decision. I didn’t want to be Vanessa’s girlfriend. It’s just fucking…weird. It doesn’t exactly fill me with glee thinking of her with somebody else, you know?”

Yvie smirked. “Because you know Monique’s going to fuck her better?”

Brooke launched the pillow at her flatmate, Yvie giggling. “Sorry! Sorry! Fuck, okay, point taken. Inappropriate.”

There was a silence. Yvie’s joke still hung in the air.

“Well, as long as you feel like your decision was correct,” Yvie smiled gently, patting Brooke’s thigh. “Then that’s the main thing. And it’s natural to get a little jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Sure, Jan,” Yvie raised her eyebrows and began to slide off Brooke’s bed. “Look, I’ve got to go get ready for dinner. You sure you’ll be fine?”

“Well I said it about twenty billion times, remember?” Brooke deadpanned, earning her a laugh from Yvie. “Just go. Go have fun. Have the best night, baby. You two deserve it.”

Yvie leant down and gave Brooke one last little squeeze before leaving her bedroom and going back into her own. Now she was alone with her thoughts Brooke wanted desperately to silence them so she grabbed her laptop and shoved on the least romantic film she could think of- Kingsman. As she sipped her tea and watched a man get completely sliced in half from skull to anus, she thought that would only be slightly less painful than what her emotions were currently putting her through.

As Taron Egerton refused to kill his dog, Yvie shouted a goodbye to Brooke.

As Colin Firth went absolutely mental in a church and killed everybody single-handedly, Brooke grabbed her phone and deleted all of her messages with Vanessa.

As the end credits rolled, Brooke wondered what the fuck she’d done. Two and a half years of friendship gone and deleted in the blink of an eye. But maybe it was for the best.

Brooke had been scrolling Netflix searching for something else to watch for what could have been an entire hour when she heard four things in rapid succession- the heavy bang of the front door, a scurry of hurried footsteps across the hall, the bang of Nina’s fire door and then a rapid sobbing that poured out of whoever was in the room and through Brooke’s wall. Brooke’s previously lethargic body sprang to life and she shot off her bed, took three quick steps to her door and hurried out into the hallway where she knocked on Nina’s.

“Nina? What’s happened?”

The sobbing continued from inside, Brooke unsure if the girl had even heard anything. Hesitantly, she pushed on the door.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

With no response other than more sobbing and a snuffle, Brooke entered Nina’s room. There was her usual organised dressing table with her makeup strewn all over it, indicative of a rushed getting-ready process. On her usually tidy floor was a mess of tried-on-and-rejected clothes, and there on the Aristocats-patterned duvet curled up with her stuffed teddy was Nina, absolutely crying her eyes out. Brooke practically vaulted the end of her bed to get to her flatmate who was squashed in between her pillows and the wall in the foetal position.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s wrong?” Brooke asked her, pulling her close and wrapping her arms around her. Nina batted her away weakly.

“Don’t, Brooke, don’t, fuck, getting held is just going to remind me of her and I don’t-” Nina descended into another burst of sobs, Brooke completely and utterly confused.

“Monet? I thought you guys were fine? Oh my God, Nina, she didn’t break up with you?!” Brooke asked, scared and trying to fight the sinking feeling taking root in her chest. Nina elegantly wiped her nose on her teddy and pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, rubbing harshly and leaving her looking like a human panda.

“She didn’t break up with me,” Nina sniffed, finally seeming to calm down.

“Oh, thank fuck.”

“I broke up with her.”

This was at least twenty times worse than what Brooke had feared. Pulling away, she fixed Nina with a look of complete incredulity. “You did what?!”

Nina rubbed at her eyes again, this time with her fingers. “Yeah, because obviously I can’t have anything fucking half-decent in my life without completely sabotaging it or making it go to shit, can I? I broke up with her, I’m a fucking idiot. Happy?”

Brooke could only blink in response as Nina leaned back and let her head hit the pillow, her stare boring into the ceiling. Her thoughts were all colliding. This was the most sudden and unexpected event, and it had completely knocked her for six. “Rewind. I thought you and Monet were fine?”

“We were fine,” Nina sighed so deeply that Brooke wasn’t sure she would have any air left in her lungs. “I was so fucking happy, Jesus. But there’s always a catch, right? Nobody can stay that happy forever, it’s always got to come to an end at some point.”

She stopped and sat up, propping her head against the headboard. Not looking Brooke in the eye, Nina continued. “She started being really distant with me. Not replying to texts for ages, being really deep in thought when we were together. I’d ask her what was wrong, but…she’d just always say nothing was. I was over at her flat the other night, we’d had a nap together and I woke up and she wasn’t there. I went into her living room and she was there with two of her flatmates. They stopped talking the second I got in, honestly I might as well have caught them all in the middle of a massive fucking orgy,” Nina laughed humourlessly. “And then it clicked. It all started after I told Monet about you and Vanessa. Nothing bad…just about how you weren’t sure, and how it’s better to just break up with somebody if you’re having second thoughts about them. It all made sense. Her being distant, always seeming off, obviously talking to her flatmates about it and having to stop because I came in. She didn’t fucking want me anymore, Brooke.”

Shocked, Brooke could only put her arms around her friend as she leaned into her chest and began to cry again. Nothing about it seemed to fit. Monet was absolutely head over heels for Nina, anyone could have seen it. It all seemed so out of the blue and sudden. Brooke tried to think about the last time Monet had been over at the flat. It had been about a week ago and Monet had seemed fine- although, now that Brooke thought about it, Monet had seemed a little quiet. Almost nervous, Brooke considered. But she was still cuddling Nina and giving her small kisses and paying her attention. It didn’t make any sense. Brooke frowned. “Nina, are you sure she actually wanted to break up with you?”

“I wondered it too. Because I didn’t want to believe it, of course. But then yesterday we were just lying in bed doing nothing. She was on her phone and my head was on her chest. I saw what was on her screen just for a second and she’d fucking-” Nina sighed, cutting herself off. “- typed this guy’s name into Google. Obviously some guy she’s met and she’s trying to find him on social media. I actually felt like I’d been stabbed, Brooke. Obviously she saw me, because she only got as far as the first name and then closed her phone. But I know what I saw, you know?”

Brooke’s frown only got deeper. “But that makes no sense. Why would she look someone up on Google, what is this, the fucking 90’s?”

“Brooke, you weren’t there. You should have seen how quickly she shut her phone off, and she was instantly all over me and telling me how lucky she was and-” Nina’s speech was interrupted by a bubble of a sob. “Oh fuck, it hurt so much. And today she woke up with me and was all "Happy Valentine’s Day!” and all that shit. I couldn’t do it, Brooke. I couldn’t make myself look like an idiot any longer. I suggested going for coffee and while we were out I just…I just fucking did it. Oh my God, it was so so bad, Brooke. She looked so fucking destroyed and she was so pissed off with me that I thought it was all a mistake but…fuck, I didn’t know what to believe. I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’ve done.“

Brooke sighed, desperately not wanting to believe it was over between the two girls. "But didn’t she explain herself? I mean what did you actually say to her? Did you confront her?”

“Jesus, no! No, I didn’t want to make it look like I was this poor, lovesick, pining idiot who was making a fool of herself over her! I jumped before I was pushed. I pretended I was the one whose feelings had changed, that it wasn’t working for me anymore. It was all a crock of shit, but she obviously believed it.”

Brooke bit the skin at the side of her thumb. There was a silence. “But didn’t she try to make you stay? Didn’t she fight for you?”

“She-” Nina cut herself off. Brooke looked down and saw tears pouring down her face, and her heart broke. “- she just sat and looked at me. Something in her eyes just…shut down. They just went all glassy, like those black marbles you got as a kid, remember? Anyway I said my piece and she just…ugh, she just nodded. She just nodded and went "Right. Got it.” in the most cold voice and then she got up, put on her coat and left. And I let her.“

With that, Nina swept her hands under her eyes and heaved a gut-wrenching shudder of a sigh. Brooke was at a loss of what to say. She had thought Nina and Monet were made for each other, and the fact that Nina had thrown it away for the sake of what Brooke was sure had to be a misunderstanding was gutting. She heaved a similar sigh to Nina’s.

"Look at us. It’s Valentine’s Day, we’re both single, we’re both here regretting breaking up with someone-”

“Wait what?” Nina asked suddenly, eyeing Brooke with suspicion. It was only then that Brooke had realised what she’d said. Startled, she backtracked.

“Well, I mean, not regretting breaking up with her, just regretting causing her hurt,” she said, Nina nodding quietly. Although Brooke was still spooked. Why had that thought popped into her head, let alone out of her mouth? She didn’t regret breaking up with Vanessa. It was the ick, just like Plastique had said. She had changed her mind. She couldn’t exactly change it back.

Could she?

“Why don’t we watch a film? I’ll bring my laptop through, get snacks from the kitchen. You don’t even need to move from this room. Or this bed,” Brooke suggested, ignoring the dangerous thoughts swirling round her mind. Nina gave a sniff and a silent nod.

“21 Jump Street?” she offered hopefully, Brooke unable to help the small laugh that escaped her mouth at the suggestion.

“This from the queen of Disney?”

“Disney’s too happy for me right now,” Nina moped, wiggling underneath her duvet cover. Brooke screwed up her face.

“Too happy? C’mon, you’ve seen Bambi. And Lion King. And Big Hero 6. And-”

“Brooke I swear to God if you don’t go get your laptop and stick on 21 Jump Street,” Nina warned, not finishing the empty threat. Laughing, Brooke did as she was told. She could only hope that the film would be enough of a distraction to her and to Nina for the next two hours.

She had no idea what they’d do once those two hours were up.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: The Real Housewives of Storybrooke (14/?)

A fic based on this premise here, following the lives of Storybrooke’s elite wives, with all the scandal, bitching and backstabbing that goes on behind the scenes of high society…

This verse is open for prompts!

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [Thirteen] [AO3]

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ARIEL

With the party preparations in full swing, Ariel thought that it was high time for her and Belle to sit down and work out a strategy for how they were going to survive the evening, or rather, how Belle was going to get through the evening without being the subject of a scene.

Belle didn’t really cause scenes; they tended to happen to her instead. Still, they’d managed to get through Regina’s garden party without any mishaps and whilst her own birthday celebration had been marred by Zelena’s intervention, Ariel would admit that they’d got off pretty lightly considering what had happened on previous occasions. They’d never yet had a party dissolve into a food fight, but when one considered what could happen when tempers frayed and people started acting like five-year-olds, Ariel didn’t think that such occurrences were completely out of the question. 

She rang the Golds’ doorbell and rocked back and forth on her heels as she waited for someone to come and let her in. The Cadillac was gone from the drive so Cameron was obviously out, and who knew where Bae might have gone now that his summer vacation had started, and he was free for a few weeks? Tilly had gone back home the previous day, and according to Regina, Robyn was already missing her. 

There was no reply to the doorbell and Ariel’s brow furrowed. Belle knew that she was coming over today, surely she wouldn’t have forgotten and gone out. She made her way round to the front room window and peered in through the glass, but there was nothing to see. Maybe the back door was unlocked. 

Ariel picked her way cautiously round to the back of the house and the kitchen. She didn’t know why she was being so furtive; anyone would think that she was a burglar casing the place rather than an invited guest, but the fact that no one appeared to be around to greet her made her wary, and although she considered herself to be somewhat sensible in a crisis, she had fleeting visions of the entire family being struck down by a serial killer and buried under the patio. 

Reaching the garden, she found that the patio was intact and there were no signs of freshly dug graves, so her mind was set at rest for all of a minute until a helpful voice told her that the serial killer might still be inside. 

She tried the back door and found it unlocked, so she stepped inside warily. At least there were various kitchen implements to defend herself with if necessary. 

“Belle?” she called out. “Bae? Mrs P? Anyone?”

There was no response, and Ariel began to worry. They wouldn’t have all gone out and left the doors unlocked; Storybrooke was a comparatively safe town but that was just ridiculous. 

“Belle?” Hopefully, her friend wasn’t lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs having fallen off her stilettos. Ariel was no stranger to killer footwear herself, but Belle’s fascination with it seemed to border on dangerous. 

It was as she reached the foot of the stairs - thankfully free of collapsed Belles - that Ariel heard it, and suddenly several things fell into place. From upstairs, she could hear the faint sound of someone retching. 

“Belle? Are you ok?” It was a stupid thing to say because she obviously wasn’t, and Ariel wondered why it was everyone’s default question. She went up the stairs slowly and pushed open the master bedroom door, immediately seeing Belle through the crack between the bathroom door and its frame. 

Belle looked up from the toilet bowl, her face grey and drawn, and she gave a weak smile as she saw Ariel. 

“Morning sickness is a bitch,” she muttered. 

Ariel had to smile as she tiptoed into the bathroom, perching on the bath. For all the times she’d been to events with Belle where copious amounts of alcohol had been imbibed, usually it was the other way round as to who was holding the other one’s hair back. 

“I was wondering if it had finally happened,” Ariel said. “When I came back to Storybrooke I thought that there was something different about you. Something brighter and happier.”

Belle nodded. “Yep. That was before the morning sickness started. Don’t feel quite so bright now.” She gave a soft little laugh. “I know I’m grousing about it, but I’m honestly happy to be pregnant. I mean, I was prepared for this, it’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“There should be a packet of ginger tea on the side in the kitchen. Cameron bought it at the weekend and it’s the only thing that helps.”

Ariel went to make the tea and Belle joined her in the kitchen a few minutes later, wrapped up in her robe. She had a little more colour now, and Ariel hoped that the worst was over for the day. 

“How far along are you?” she asked. 

“Seven weeks.” Belle took a sip of her tea. “It’s not common knowledge yet, but all things considered I thought you’d probably guess anyway. Can we keep it between ourselves for now? Just until I’ve had the first scan and made sure everything’s all right. I needed someone who wasn’t Cameron or Bae or Mrs P to know. I mean, they’re all being great about it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not like sharing the news with a girlfriend.”

“Of course. I’ll be the very picture of discretion.”

“I think of all our circle of friends, you’re probably the one I trust most. Much as I love Carrie and Ursula, I don’t think that anything stays secret with them for very long, and since Carrie’s solution to everything is to add more gin, I’m not sure she’d be very good at helping with morning sickness.”

“That’s very true.” Ariel had not really met Carrie and Ursula outside of various parties and functions, but the tales that Belle and Cameron told certainly painted a vivid picture. She made herself a cup of tea and sat down at the kitchen table with Belle. “On the other hand, the morning sickness does give you a great excuse for not going to the party.”

“Yes, but I’m slightly concerned as to what the rumour mill might start doing if I don’t attend. People are already starting to wonder why I’ve not been at the library these past few mornings. It generally wears off by about lunch time so I should be ok for the evening.”

“Just maybe steer clear of the buffet table. And the bar.” Ariel thought about the planning sessions at Regina’s, with Robin being promised that he could monopolise the buffet table with Belle instead of having to socialise. 

“Yeah, maybe it would be a good idea to sit this one out.” Belle sighed. “It’s a toss-up between everyone wondering why I’m not there, especially since Cameron’s so involved with the whole project and definitely will be there, and everyone wondering why I’m there but not eating or drinking. Which do you think would be worse?”

“Well, we can hope that everyone gets so drunk that they don’t notice. I think that’s usually the way to get around these things.”

She managed to get a laugh out of Belle this time, and Ariel took that as a good sign. Presently, her friend’s stomach grumbled, and Ariel raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I haven’t exactly had any breakfast,” Belle muttered, her still-pale cheeks beginning to colour. 

“You’re pregnant. Your stomach’s going to be doing weird things for the next nine months.” Ariel reached across and patted Belle’s hand. “Don’t worry about it. Can I make you some toast or something?”

“That sounds like a good idea. You don’t have to get it. I’m the host here.” She looked down at her pyjamas and bathrobe. “I’m not doing a very good job of it, but I can try.”

“Belle, you’re in a rather tender state at the moment. Just let someone else take care of you for once. You know that if Cameron didn’t have to go and save the world as we know it, he’d be here waiting on you hand and foot.”

“Yeah, I practically had to push him out of the door this morning.” Belle glanced down at her belly. “If it wasn’t for the constant throwing up, I’d still be wondering if this was all a dream.”

Ariel set about making some toast. “It’s strange. I’ve never really thought about being pregnant,” she said. “If you go swimming whilst pregnant, does that make you a human submarine?”

“Ariel.” Belle gave her a pained look. “Sometimes I wonder where your mind goes.”

“Submarines, evidently. In all seriousness though, I’m really happy for you. This is all you’ve wanted for so long and I’m so glad that it’s finally come good in the end. Even if you are now as sick as a parrot.”

“It’ll pass.” Belle nibbled on her toast. “Have you ever wanted children, you and Eric?”

“No. We talked about it early on, back when we were first starting up the business, and it was just never a priority for us. We’ve always been happy just as a duo. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we had an accident, so to speak. Things might change then. But we’ve never planned on it. I’ve never really had maternal urges. I’m the cool fairy godmother instead. That was a hint, by the way.”

Belle shook her head with a laugh. “We’re nowhere near thinking that far ahead yet. We just want to get through these first few months with no mishaps, then we’ll start appointing go-to babysitters. You do know that the job doesn’t come with a wand and special powers, right?”

“I can always dream. Have you thought about names yet? Come on, you’ve been thinking about this entire adventure for months, you must have thought about names.”

“I’ve always been more concerned with actually getting the baby rather than naming it,” Belle said, but it was clear that she was already off in a little world of her own as she pondered names for her future child. “I like Gideon for a boy. I know it’s a bit unusual, but it’s not too out there. And I like flower names for girls. Rose, Lily, Iris.”

“Chrysanthemum.”

“You jest, but I may call your bluff in nine months’ time, and then where would you be.”

“I’d be congratulating you on your excellent taste in names.”

They both fell about in laughter after that, and Ariel smiled. It was good to know that even though Belle was not feeling at her best right now, her enthusiasm for motherhood had not been dampened, and her patience had finally paid off in the best possible way.

[amnachil]

To the Perfection Chapter 2 Part 5

Here’s the next part. The whole story happen at the same time than The College Society, we’re only a little month ahead.

Cody Wednesday April 3

Being ignored was painful. He honestly had thought Thomas couldn't do worst. Oh man he had been so wrong. I screwed everything when I talked with Raphaël. The plan didn't go as planned. Not at all. And the time to deal with the consequences had come. On monday, the ginger has said only one sentence to the crowd. One.

"It's hard because Cody said I was a freak and Ilhan was a fucking useless fatty, however I thank you all for your support. I know you'll do the right thing."

And hell had begun. Highschool students could be mean. Especially when you purportedly insulted their favorite. The bad words are bearable. The beating is too. But their looks... They hated him with their soul. Cody should have probably said something but he hadn't. Because he had deserved it. And because he was still in love with Thomas. Why ? Why I can only dream about him, I can only think about him even though he's the one who destroyed my life ? The worst had been this exact moment when he had lied to Joël.

"Yes, I said it." he had revealed.

His friend's eyes had widened. Shock, realisation, pity, anger went through them. Cody endured it. I don't know why I lied in the first place. Maybe because he didn't want his childhood friend to go down with him ? Joël should have the right to stay with Thomas. I know he's happier this way. So the teenager was suffering all alone. But hell was only starting.

Cody was leaving school as discreetly as possible this evening. They all were going to soccer's practice, so nobody would annoy him. His parents weren't home for the month and his siblings too young to understand what was going on. So he could bear the burden on his own. Or he thought. A gigantic man arose right in front of him. He was wearing a cop's uniform. Well, he was around the same height than Cody but maybe two or three times bigger. It was very imposing.

"Hey there." he said nonchalently.

The young lad didn't answer. I think I remember him. He was hanging a lot with Thomas during our 10th grade... What was his name again ? It definitely started by G.

"So I heard you hate Thomas because he's gay ?"

Cody gulped. The man was very menacing.

"I wouldn't say I hate him..." he timidely replied.

"I don't like you." cut the policeman. "Thomas is a good guy and you, you're a nobody who's just jealous of him. You're lucky Raphaël didn't know about what you say."

Yeah, I suppose so...

"I won't beat the crap out of you because I'm a nice guy." continued the other. "But just so you know, if you hurt Thomas ever again I will change my mind okay ?"

Cody nodded. What can I say ? Who would believe me anyway ? He's the most popular in highschool, he's bright, cheerful and warm. And this is why I'm so in love with him... The 12th grade student never hated himself more than today.

Dan Friday April 5 – Saturday April 6

Something wasn't right in Darren's behavior. Now he was avoiding Dan again. He's doing that since last weekend when Raphaël was there. Was he scared by the national player ? I told him there is nothing to be afraid of. The college student's belly gurgled to notify his hunger. Boy I'm starving because of all this thinking. The good news was : his grades were going up again. He left the university hastily because Shirley was waiting for him. His sister was doing well. She had greatly improved. They had agreed to meet in the local fastfood (the one Sam was working for) so he joined her there. Dan ordered quite a lot and sat in front of the young girl.

"Sorry I'm late." he said as an introduction. "I had question for my teach'."

"No problem I just arrived." she replied. "I'm glad to know you're taking your studies so seriously."

"Yeah, Carol and mom are saying the same."

His food arrived and he dug in. Damn he was so famished.

"Hum Dan, can I ask you something a bit private ?"

He nodded, too busy stuffing his face.

"Well I... noticed Raphaël looked a bit... tired last weekend ? You know, I've spent a whole year analyzing the man in order to defeat him and I think I know him pretty well. He's still the same perfect athlete but his aura was kind of... colder ?"

"I noticed that too." whispered Dan.

So it wasn't only his imagination. His boyfriend was probably suffering. But why ? He has everything he wants.

"You don't know what is happening, do you ?" Shirley asked. "It might sounds a bit hypocrit but I'm worried for both of you. Is everything fine ?"

"Well, I think we're okay. To be honest, I thought these littles changes were only due to the fatigue, but maybe there is something else. He was very disturbed after Thomas's coming out."

"I'm not an expert of relationship Dan but you should talk to him. Raphaël has his own way to communicate, we both know that. He's not your ordinary man."

"He'll be back for his birthday the 16th. I'm gonna clear things out this day."

In the meantime, he had a lot of things to do. Dan intended to make this birthday special. I want it to be perfect. With an awesome gift for my awesome man. So he headed to the shopping mall. He was seeking what he could buy when he noticed Thomas wandering alone. He came closer and hailed him.

"Hey bud'. Whatcha doing here all by yourself ? Ain't you supposed to be at school ?"

"We have a free period." replied his friend. "And I was... looking for a gift. For big bro's birthday."

"Same here, funny we had the same idea !" laughed Dan. "Want to search together ?"

"Sure."

They walked for an hour. A lot of things looked cool but nothing was as cool as Raphaël. I need to come up with a excellent idea. Finally, the college student started to feel tired and hungry. His ginger friend offered him a crepe from a french store and they sat on a bench.

"By the way Thomy, maybe you can help." Dan wondered. "Don't you think Raphaël seemed a bit weary last weekend ?"

His friend frowned.

"Maybe ? It's difficult to read him."

"Yeah but well, his body is very cold and his tone seems kind of lethargic. I'm pretty sure something is bothering him but I don't know what. Any idea ?"

"No ? I mean, he's on every channel for his debut as a model. The national selection wants him for the next world's championship and he has a loveable boyfriend. Why would he feels bad ? Unless you think... It's my fault ? Because I'm gay ?"

Don't say that. I know this is not.

"Dude, there is absolutely no way Raphaël resent you for being gay and in a relationship. I'm even thinking he's happy about it."

Thomas nodded slowly, seemingly convinced. Don't doubt yourself Thomy, you're great.

"So maybe it is about your relationship..." the ginger whispered. "You didn't do anything wrong, did you ?"

"No, I don't think so."

Thomas smiled but with sadness. What ? He looked about to reveal something very important.

"Well..." he started. "So it must be him. He must have done something bad and he can't say what. Damn, I hope he didn't betrayed your truth !"

Dan hoped too. Well in truth, this theory was ridiculous. But the words were creeping in his mind already...

Thomas Monday April 8

"Hey assholes ! Leave him alone !"

Joël waved at the three girls who were bullying Cody and they went away. Thomas looked the scene with a smile. I feel good. Everything was going well : Ilhan was a perfect sex-toy, the leech was hated like he deserved to be and Dan was having doubts about Raphaël. When I'll bring the Darren's stuff, things will get very interesting.

"Damn girls." mumbled his cocky friend. "I think the whole thing could've been dealt better."

The ginger raised an eyebrow.

"Got something to say to me Joël ?" he smiled.

The other looked at him.

"Yeah, actually I do. Don't get it wrong, I'm one hundred percent with you and Cody had no right to talk to you like this. But was it necessary to make the whole school turn against him ?"

"I just told the truth to the people who wanted to know it." Thomas countered.

What is it ? Does Joël think I was wrong ?

"And it bring us where ? Do you feel better now that they are bullying your old friend ? Because if you do, maybe you're just like him : not accepting. We both know you're better than that right ?"

Ilhan, who was listening to the conversation, took a step backwards. He probably sensed Thomas was angry now. How dares he ? I'm right with everything I do. Always. He doesn't have the right to contest my decision. The ginger thought all this, but he couldn't find the gut to tell it. It was stuck in his throat.

"Anyway, what is done is done." concluded Joël. "And now I have to yell at the girls I wanted to fuck. Pff, that was very not cool of you Thomy."

"If you deseperatly needs sex, I'm sure I can find someone." Thomas smiled.

I definitly prefer you when you're your usual selfish idiot. Just stay that way.

During the last hour of class, they had science. The young teenager decided it was the good moment to try his luck. He approached Darren while the others were leaving.

"Sir." he smiled. "I heard from Dan that you were... scared of my big bro ?"

The teacher looked at him, wary.

"I'm not scared." he contradicted. "We just don't get along very well. Trust me, I would love to make peace with him but... He doesn't like the idea."

"Maybe I can help." smiled warmly Thomas. "I'm the best person whom you should ask help to when it's related to Raphaël after all."

"I thought you disliked me because I'm not easily charmed." commented Darren.

"It's true I wasn't liking you at first. But you're Dan's friend and I'm too. We both want the best for him and I think it is very important that you and big bro manage to get along. So, can I come to your place this sunday and we'll talk about this ?"

"Sure."

This evening, Thomas fucked Ilhan very roughly. He was satisfied with the recent events. And when he arrived home, he was more than happy. Dan was in the living room, slumped on the couch. He was seemingly overstuffed : his belly was forming a large and solid sphere. The ginger felt aroused in no time.

"I'm back." he said. "How was the day ?"

"Bad." replied the college student. "Raphaël is abroad and I can't call or text him. I asked Carol and you know what she said ? Maybe he was cheating on me ? Cheating on me, seriously ?!"

Oh this is so great. Thomas didn't even have to the job himself.

"He wouldn't dare I'm sure." he said.

Dan looked at him, unconvinced. Finally, your naivety and your insecurities are working for me. Raphaël's perfection is playing against himself.

"I will cook something good to help you feel better okay ?" he smiled.

"Sure. Thank you man, you're amazing." mumbled his crush.

I'm so winning this.

To be continued

Things are finally getting interesting. 

Cody is in deep troubles. He lost his friends, his reputation and everything. Being antagonized by a whole school is never fun... 

Meanwhile, Dan is optimistic... Little does he know what Thomas is scheming behind his back. The young ginger will be the death of them I swear.

[escapingreality1992]

Secret Pen Pals Ch. 4

Keira’s POV

           Weeks passed too quickly. My parents came up the weekend after my birthday and we had a fun time eating sushi and talking. Of course, they asked how my love life was doing and I noticed disappointment cross their features when I said I wasn’t seeing anybody. Not yet anyway.

           ‘I’m not getting any younger. You need to find someone soon so I can have grand-children,’ Mom had told me that night.

           ‘Mom. I thought you’re too young for them,’ I stated.

           ‘But honey, don’t you want someone to spend the rest of your life with? Start a family?’ she argued. You have no idea how much I want that. Maybe I’ve found that one person. Steve, I thought.

           ‘Mom. Please,”

           ‘She’s right. You’ve been in New York for two years. Surely, you’ve found people to go out with?’ my dad chimed in.

           “Dad? Not you too. I’ll find someone when I’m ready. I’ve been too busy with work,’

           ‘I don’t think watching dogs keeps you that busy. What about your friends? Can’t they set you up with someone?’ Dad stated. There it was, the disappointment of what I did for a living. I could’ve told them about Steve and the letters, but I knew I’d get the same reaction as my friends.

           ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore. If that’s all, then I’ll see you for Thanksgiving. Love you. Bye,’ I had stated. It had been all they wanted, leaving me alone in the apartment once they left. That night I had cried myself to sleep, clutching the framed picture of the doodle Steve had sent me.

           After the discussion took place, I stayed busy watching dogs, the furry companions bringing me comfort. Too bad Steve couldn’t bring me comfort by being here with me. I could write to him, but it wouldn’t be the same as letting him hold me as the pain drifted away. I got to enjoy the company of Jamie and Sherlock, my favorite of the regular clients I had. Don’t get me wrong. I loved all dogs, but something about the goldens made me happier and comforted in a way that no other dog could.

           You’re probably wondering about my friends and if I hung out with them. The answer is, I did, at a special event at the hospital where Jana worked. I wore a long silver dress with skinny straps and silver heels to match. I thought it’d be a great night until Jana had tried to set me up with someone. I say tried because it didn’t go well. She brought him over and he immediately struck me as someone who was only interested in sex and himself.

           In the brief conversation we had, he had told me his name – David Clayton – and quickly dismissed the idea of reading, claiming it was a waste of time and ‘who would want to spend their time reading when they could fuck?’ Yeah, those exact words. He proceeded to hit on me after that lovely sentence and grabbed my ass thinking he was charming me into sleeping with him that night.

           My reaction? Removing his hand and stomping on his foot, slapping him across the face, to which he called me ‘bitch’ causing me to walk away.

           “Keira! What the hell? I thought you two might hit it off. If it’s about the reading-,” Jana shouted at me. I didn’t expect her to be mad about it, which only made me furious.

           “No, I can deal with someone who doesn’t read or doesn’t like reading but he’s dismissed it altogether. He doesn’t think anyone should read saying it’s a waste of time. By the way he’s only interested in having sex. If he wasn’t then he would have hit on me straight away or grabbed my ass. Jana, you have poor taste in men when it comes to setting me up with someone. I don’t need or want your help. I’m going home,” I snapped.

           Turning on my heel, I strode out to the lobby, grabbed my thick red trench coat I always wore during the colder November days and walked into the chilly New York night air. Normally, I would’ve taken a cab back to my apartment, but I wanted to walk, not caring if my feet bled from the heels. I needed to breathe; my heart hurt, and I wanted someone to hold me and make the excruciating pain go away. Not just anyone. I wanted Steve. I wasn’t aware he happened to be at the same hospital in an undercover mission or that a friend of his would investigate me.

           Now on this present day, I had no dogs to take care of due to the oncoming storm in a few hours. To prepare, I decided to head to the local grocery store to get supplies; bread, peanut butter, batteries, two flashlights, water, matches, candles, and a couple of lighters in case the power went out. I even decided to pick up several bags of chips as snack if I wanted one. The store was packed, and I patiently waited while checking out, eagerly waiting to get back home to start reading.

           Thanks to Steve, I had picked up a copy of The Haunting of Hill House and the storm provided the perfect day to devour it.

           “Can you believe this weather has people all in a frenzy?” A voice asked me. I turned to find a woman behind me with long, auburn red hair and green eyes.

           “Yeah, though I’d think they’d be a little more relaxed. Especially after what happened with that alien attack a couple of years ago. Still, it doesn’t surprise me. Back in my hometown, people went crazy whether it stormed bad or snowed,” I answered.

           “You’re not from New York?” She asked.

           “No. I’ve been here for two years. I’m from North Carolina. You know what I don’t understand?”

           “What’s that?”

           “Why people buy bread and milk? I mean, sure bread is fine if you want sandwiches. But milk? What are they going to do with it besides drink it? Are people going to make soppy milk bread sandwiches?” This got her laughing and she shrugged, a section of hair falling on her shoulder.

           “Maybe. I’m Natasha. You look like you’ve got the essentials. No perishables. Smart. I’d eat peanut butter sandwiches too,” She told me, gesturing to my basket.

           “I try. I love storms. I like to watch the lightning in the dark. They’re sort of tranquil to me. I’m Keira by the way,”

           “Nice to meet you. Tranquil? A storm?” She asked.

           “I know. Ironic isn’t it? Tranquil with all that chaos? They’re beautiful, though. Even if they cause destruction,”

           “You sound like a friend of mine. Look, you’re next. Be careful getting home,” She told me. I placed my basket down on the cashier’s shelf and walked up to the counter to pay once everything got rang up.

           “What friend? I…oh, she’s gone,” I stated, turning back and finding that Natasha had disappeared.

           “Okay then. She seems nice,” I muttered. For someone I just met, she and I appeared to get along great. We had a better conversation than my usual friends, I’ll tell you that. Grabbing my purchases, I walked back to my apartment and unloaded them; I set up candles in the living room and the bedroom, not lighting them unless I had to. I placed the peanut butter and bread next to each other and kept one flashlight in the living room and the other in my bedroom.

           The case of water I kept near the fridge in case of an emergency and the matches I stuffed in the utensil drawer. I also shoved the bags of chips in the pantry for later. Satisfied with everything, I sat down to read.

              At the first crack of thunder, I looked up from my book and checked the time. 5 p.m. Perfect timing. I marked my place in the book and fixed a cold cut sandwich – ham and cheese with mayonnaise and added pepperoni – before the power went out or if the power went out in this case. As I ate, carrying the sandwich with me, I opened the curtains to my windows to watch. It was dark, the ending of Daylight Savings Time, making it get darker earlier.

           Lightning flashed and another crack of thunder sounded, bringing a smile to my lips. I stood at the window in the living room, enjoying the storm and chewing on my sandwich. Around the fifth lightning strike, the power flickered, and I grabbed the flashlight did it, shrouding me in darkness, the calming night beginning.

 Steve’s POV

           Astonished by the time that passed by, I managed to stay busy. Missions and meetings took over my days and left me without time to write to Keira. I hoped things had cheered up for her after her birthday. I secretly hoped I had been the main cause for it with my gift and words.

           Thankfully, Natasha hadn’t pestered me about her, but I feared what it might mean since she hadn’t. She could easily be conducting her own under my nose. I tried not to worry about it and focused on the tasks given to us. After all, there was the gala we had been sent to, undercover to watch a target who wanted to cause trouble.

           It took place at a hospital and we dressed out best, mingling among the crowd as normal people. I found it ironic that this gala was taking place at the same hospital where Strange used to work but decided not to bring Bucky in case it opened up some wounds with what was happening. As I was mingling, a woman with short brown hair and hazel eyes approached me.

           “Hello, handsome. I haven’t seen you around here before. I’m Jana Elliot. What brings you to this event?” she greeted me.

           “Security,” I answered and continued surveying the crowd.

           “Security, huh? Maybe we should go back to my place and you can secure my bedroom. What do you say?”

           “No thanks, Ma’am. I’m very busy. I don’t have a lot of time to spare,” I commented. Jana was pretty, sure but my heart began to yearn for someone else. Keira.

           “I-,”

           “Bitch!” Some guy shouted, cutting her off. I turned towards the sound but only saw the head of a guy bending down to cradle his foot, too many people blocking my view of the source of his distress.

           “You’ve got to be kidding me. Excuse me,” Jana stated, and she took off across the room.

           “Did you turn down someone?” Sam’s voice came over the ear comm.

           “We’re not here to flirt. We’ve got to this job done. Does anybody have an eye on our target?” I ordered.

           “She was cute. Steve, you really need a girlfriend, or at least-,”

           “Natasha, not now. We’re not discussing my love life in the middle of the mission,”

           “Fine. I believe he was the one shouting. Some woman crushed his foot and slapped him. Serves him right. He grabbed her ass,” Nat stated. Oh great. Another asshole, I thought.

           “Keep your eyes on him. Nab him if you get a chance,” I ordered. About an hour later, we had him cornered and arrested for trying to run a scheme for an organization that was once close to HYDRA. He wanted to get it started again and we put an end to it before he could even try. Back on the jet, I got questioned more about my social life.

           “Seriously, when are you going to date? You need someone to love again,” Nat stated.

           “I’m not ready for a relationship,”

           “Bullshit. I know you’re ready when you look at the couples around you. You even look at Wanda and me with a longing to be with someone. You’ve got to put yourself out there. What about the new acquaintance of yours?” Nat stated, leaning over to whisper the last part. So, she didn’t want anyone to know it either, I thought. I shrugged and withdrew from the conversation. A common thing I did when I wanted the discussion to end.

              At the present time, we were getting prepared for the storm rolling in. Naturally, everyone thought it was Thor’s doing but he laid no claim to it.

           “Are you sure? Maybe you’re still angry at me for pulling that prank,” Loki stated, grabbing his book and plopping down on one of the couches in the lounge.

           “I’m sure. It’s a normal storm. I have nothing to do with it. Steve, where’s Natasha?” Thor answered, turning his attention on me.

           “She went out to grab a few things before the storm hits,” I commented. She had been gone a half hour, coming back with nothing in hand, confusing me.

           “I thought you needed some supplies,” I stated, gesturing to her empty hands.

           “I have everything I need here. I did meet someone interesting at the store though. You’re in trouble Steve. She’s lovely,” She told me, her lips twisting in a knowing smile. I frowned and pulled her aside into another room, so no one could hear us.

           “Natasha, you didn’t do what I think you did? Please tell me, you’re not investigating Keira?”

           “Don’t worry. I’m only seeing what she’s like. Maybe see if she’s got any dark secrets,”

           “No, don’t do that. I don’t need to do this. If you’re trying to deter me from writing to her, please stop. Stop this now, Natasha,” I snapped at her.

           “Steve, really? You don’t want to find out more about her before you meet her. I’m not trying to deter you. I’m just making sure she’s someone you really-,”

           “I should be able to decide that for myself. I don’t need you investigating her because she’s some threat. She’s not. I don’t get that from her. Stop investigating,” I argued. She looked shocked at my tone and I walked past her to my room. I was angry she had decided to dig around in Keira’s life. I should’ve known she’d do it ever since she had discovered my secret pen pal. I wanted to be the one who got to know her on my own, in my own time.

             Around 5, the first crack of thunder sounded, and I clambered off my bed to draw back the curtains to watch, despite the lights still on in my room. It was only a matter of time before the power went out and I patiently waited when it did. The seventh flash shut things off and I grabbed a flashlight, exiting my room to grab a bottle of water and fixed a peanut butter sandwich to eat, returning to the silence of my room.

           I sat watching the storm, a calmness sweeping over me. I hoped Keira was watching with me, wherever she was. Finishing my sandwich, I moved to the windowsill, watching the rain patter against the glass, illuminated by the lightning when it flashed. I sighed, wrapping my arms over my knees, thinking about her. What was she doing while watching the storm? Or if she wasn’t watching, what was she doing instead? Could she be wrapped up in blankets reading?

           All these thoughts were enough to motivate me to pen a letter to her. I climbed off and went downstairs to find candles and matches. While rummaging around in the drawers, I heard someone approach me.

           “Steve. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, but you’ve been keeping this girl a secret for a while. I didn’t know what else to do. Maybe you thought by keeping her secret, we wouldn’t look into her. She could’ve have been someone who writes to you to get to us. I needed to find out. Turns out she’s harmless and I like her,” Nat’s voice told me.

           “It’s fine. I still wish you hadn’t staged a run-in with her though. Before I’ve had a chance to meet her. I don’t believe Keira’s a threat. I just…I don’t know. I feel different every time I get a letter from her. Seeing her words on paper, it brings me joy. I…”

           “My god. You’re starting to fall for her. After only a few letters. Will you ever ask Keira to meet you? If so, when?”

           “I want to. You don’t know how much I want to. I’m not sure when would be best to meet her. Maybe after the holidays. Start a new year with her. Maybe fate will bring us together earlier. I’m honestly not sure. It scares me. I’m worried that she’ll treat me different when she finds out I’m Captain America,”

           “You’ll have to trust that she won’t. She’s writing to Steve Rogers, not Captain America. She’ll see past the hero and see you because you’re being yourself. I’m sure everything will work out the way it’s supposed to,” Natasha reassured me, giving me a hug.

           “Is she…when you saw her…was she…?” I said, stumbling for words. I wanted to know if she was truly beautiful, if she had the same beauty I imagined, despite my heart telling me so.

           “She’s lovely. Funny and sweet. At least, that’s what I got from our short conversation. I think you’re in trouble with this girl. You’re in danger of falling in love with her. Especially once you’ve met,” I nodded and retreated to my room to write my next letter.

  Keira’s POV

           As I watched the storm, I wondered if Steve was somewhere watching as well. I had lit up the candles and started reading as well. The book was creepy indeed, sending chills down my spine. It drew you in and I finished it with a shaky sigh, dreading to go to sleep.

           The storm had a way of keeping me invested in watching it for hours, forcing me to stay wide awake until it ended. Since I was already up and alert, I decided to pen the next letter, throwing in details of the last few days, wincing when I knew I was sending him more rants. I kept them in, wanting to get it off my chest. I asked about the storm in case he had been watching it with me, two souls connected in a magical way.

           Being silly, I took a few Polaroids of myself and slid them in the envelope, only to pull them back out. Should I let him see me now? Should I send him these? I thought. Deciding against it, I shoved the pictures away before taking a picture of the framed doodle on my desk, telling him I kept it there, drawing inspiration from it. I placed the letter on my nightstand planning on sending it out in the morning and went to sleep dreaming of us sitting together watching a magnificent storm.

   Three Days Later

           Nothing exciting happened after the storm, work returning back to normal as I had picked up another dog for a few days. A German Shepherd named Frank, who liked going for walks and playing ball in Central Park. I wrote up the review for Hill House and waited for the day I’d get a letter from Steve.

           Today happened to be the day when I opened my mailbox and saw his letter sitting on top. Running upstairs, I sprinted into my apartment and stretched out on my couch to begin reading.

              Keira,

           How have you been? I wonder if you’ve been as busy as I have. More meetings and events have kept me from taking a break. I even attended a gala as part of work and got approached by some girl who attempted to flirt with me. You know what’s interesting? The whole time I thought about you. My friends teased me about it for the rest of the night when they saw me turn her down. They’ve been pestering me about my love life lately, wanting me to start dating again. They’ve even gone so far as to trying to set me up on dates, which I’ve refused to go on.

           I need a deeper connection with people to date them. This connection with you, though we’ve only been communicating through letters, makes me feel things and the more I write to you the more connected I seem to be getting to you. I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. Not until these letters from you came.

             You too huh? Something we can both relate to, I thought. I smiled at the confession a feeling connected to me. Truth be told, I felt connected to him even if we hadn’t met.

             You’ve been occupying my mind and I can’t seem to stop thinking about you. I have an image in my head of what you look like and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. I know you’ll be perfect when we meet for the first time. I’m sorry to hear you spent your birthday alone. I hope you got some joy out if though. Even if you did dance around and drink wine. I hope I brought you some as well. I’m pleased you love your gift. I wasn’t sure if you would. People are picky about what they like. I should know, my friends can be like that sometimes.

             To your request of my favorite colors for a blanket, I like blue, like the sky and green. If you can find a shade that matches the color of your eyes, then that’s what I’d love. If you need an additional color, you’re welcome to include a crimson if you’d like.

           In other matters, did you watch the storm tonight? Maybe we were watching it together. It was quite calming. Tranquil, almost. I wanted you beside me in my arms. Keira, I think…I believe I’m…

             I sat up reading the next line, my heart hammering in my chest. Could he be developing feelings for me? Like I was for him?

             I find I’m having difficulty writing the next sentence. Please forgive me if it crosses a line. Here goes. I believe I’m starting to fall for you. I’m aware we haven’t been corresponding for very long, but I don’t know how else to describe how I’m feeling. Every time I receive a letter, I can’t help but smile and be excited by what you’ve written. I’d love to meet you sometime. Maybe after the holidays, if that’s alright with you? Perhaps fate might bring us together before then.

             Again, sorry if it crosses a line. I just needed to tell you before it’s too late. You don’t have to answer yet or at all if you don’t want to.

           Here’s a list of some of my favorites to bring this off the subject if I’ve made it awkward or weird.

             “You’re not crossing any lines. You’d be surprised about I how I feel about you,” I stated, dropping one hand to scratch the ears of Frank.

             Movie – Currently, it’s The Goonies. It’s funny and full of adventure. A great watch.

                       Music – Anything soft, laid back. Classical. You said you love Country. Tell me some I should be listening to.

             Book: The Shining by Stephen King. It messed with my head a little more than I’d like. Very spooky. Very psychological.

 I already gave you my favorite colors earlier. I don’t have any musicals I love either. I plan on watching Rent and any others you think I might be interested in.

             Season: Winter. I love snow and sitting by the fire with a book or movie. Maybe cuddling with you. There I go again. Sorry.

             Ideal date? Dinner and a movie. Old-fashioned, but it’s still romantic to me. Second idea? Coney Island, maybe.

             Ideal day? Like yours. Rainy day. Sleeping in. Buried in blankets, a book. Someone to cuddle with. Someone to kiss.

             Hoping you’ll write to me after my confession. Patiently waiting for you,

Steve

              I smiled, my lips stretching as far as they could. More tears of joy filled my eyes. I thought about crafting another letter but waited. He didn’t need to get two letters at nearly the same time. Plus, I needed time to think about his request of meeting.

           If we did, then maybe after the holidays would be best. It’d give us a start of a new year, new beginnings. But what happens if we met and didn’t like each other? It could happen…

           No, don’t do that to yourself. You already like each other on paper. You’re being yourself. I’m sure he is too, I thought. Besides, we could get to know each other more after we met.

           Still, I chose to wait until the next week to write to him with my answer. Instead, I went out and picked up the colors of yarn to begin creating his gift, his blanket. A perfect gift for Christmas.

  Steve’s POV

           Not risking anyone else finding out about the letters, I waited by the mailbox close to the time it’d be delivered each day. I was sure she had sent one the same time I had. The only difference being it wouldn’t contain her answer to my request. A good thing if she needed time think things over.

           Today, I stood by the mailbox, pacing until the truck arrived, the mailman stuffing the box full of letters or bills and driving off. I grabbed the medium stack, going through each piece until I found the one, I was looking for.

           I threw the other pieces of mail on the kitchen counter and found somewhere quiet to read Keira’s new letter.

              Steve,

           I have a lot to tell you. I debated on whether or not to say anything for fear that you only read complaints or rants, but I don’t know who else to turn to.

           First, my parents visited me, and we were having a good time until they pressured me into dating. Sometimes, I get too busy to go out and most of the people I’ve met are jerks. Dad thinks my job doesn’t take up a lot of time, but he’d be surprised. After they left, I cried myself to sleep holding onto your doodle.

Oh, the Polaroid shows you where I keep it. I framed it and it stays on my desk to help me draw inspiration.

  To make matters worse, I attended a gala at the hospital where my friend Jana works. She tried to set me up with a guy named David Clayton. He dismissed the whole idea of reading, hit on me and proceeded to grab my ass.

           My reaction, maybe an overreaction. I stomped on his foot and slapped him. He called me a bitch before I walked away. Jana got mad and I left, going home after a long walk. My heart hurt so much, I needed to take a walk to breathe.

             A tingle went down my spine as I realized we were at the same gala at the same time. We were only a few feet apart and I didn’t see her because people were blocking my view. I didn’t see her the whole night, too busy surveying the crowd to notice her arrival. Natasha had seen her when she slapped our target Her friend has poor taste, I thought. A chill went down my spine as I knew who had flirted with me at the gala. Another thought occurred to me. I wouldn’t be able to write to her about it because I’d have to explain what I was doing there. She’d know I’m Captain America. I wasn’t planning on keeping it from her forever, but I still didn’t want her to know yet.

              On a happier note, I met someone today who I had a great but short conversation with. Her name is Natasha. Thought I get the sense she might be a ghost. I turned away for a minute and turned back to find her gone. I could see myself being friends with her. She made me feel comfortable unlike my other friends. I met her at the grocery store before the storm. Isn’t it great? The storm? I hope you’re watching it with me. I know you’re a fan of them too.

             Keira likes Nat. I’ll have to tell her she made a good impression despite her plan to investigate Keira. I made no mention of it in my letter, afraid of driving her away. Leave the explanation until we meet. I smiled; glad we had been watching the storm. I felt connected to her by some great force I couldn’t see.

              I finished Haunting of Hill House tonight. You were right. It’s super creepy. It made me want to check all the doors in case they opened on their own. Poor Eleanor. Everyone was so cruel to her towards the end, only feigning being nice when they feared she’d do something crazy. The ending though, shocked me. Wonderful recommendation. Allow me to tell you one of mine. You might like the Dresden Files. It has a wizard and magic and all sorts of supernatural creatures. Tell me what you’re doing the next time you write, while you write. Tell me more about you friends. Who’s your oldest friend? Tell me your fears. Pull me deeper into your world.

           Tell me a story so warm, I can feel your arms around me. So, I can see it vividly in my mind. I’ll write to you on Thanksgiving. Don’t be alarmed by the address from North Carolina. I’ll be at my parents’ house.

Waiting for you,

Keira

             I released a deep sigh when I finished reading, my fingers brushing over the words again. I held the Polaroid in my free hand, a small smile tugging my lips. She drew inspiration from the drawing, and it made my heart grow fonder for her. I needed to meet her, to kiss her. Natasha was right. I was in danger of falling for her once I met her.

[wagnerarts]

2sc0ramb1ed6

Living alone while my family was in California was exactly what you’d think it’d be these four days on fall break. With no alarms set, I still woke up at 8, heart racing from the thought of classes I was sleeping through. Waking up hours later felt lazy.

Finally making my way to the kitchen after 12 PM was conflicting. I’d open the fridge and see leftover quinoa; laugh at the lengths my family went to be healthy. Look to my right and spot the half drank Chardonnay and joke to myself that I was technically allowed to drink it. Technically.

I grabbed the hummus and wine quickly and shoved the fridge door closed with my hip.

X

I now sit on the lawn chair on my family’s balcony, overlooking the pseudo suburban street in the privileged part of the city.

Cigarette half smoked, remote silence. The whir of nearby bicycle wheels start, and the noise triggers me and I’m aware. Once I realize its innocence, I suck in another drag and close my eyes.

It’s nothing.

A flashback to smoking a bowl out my bedroom window four years prior floats back. I’d moved my bed to rest against it in hopes smoking closer to it would smell less.

“Are you smoking pot?” My mother asked, standing in her light pink robe, clutching the doorknob and keeping the door half mast in hopes she was wrong.

“This dude was walking his dog past the house and I swear he had a joint, I swear, Mom,” I started.

“Just... Just stop,” she said as she closed the door.

I paused, my bowl hiding under the comforter. After a few minutes passed, I brought it back out and outstretched my hand past the screenless window and into the summer night to light another bowl.

X

The years all melt together. You tell me nowadays you didn’t know what to make of me when we met in 2010.

“You were so young and so forward. I knew you were in love with me and I didn’t care,” you say. But you care now.

We laugh about how backwards we were. Our first date was my first date, too, at our town’s Thai restaurant at the end of your senior year of high school. I remember you being confused on how to pay with your dad’s credit card when the check came.

“I don’t even have my license yet, how do you expect me to help?” I laughed. Afterwards, we smoked a joint on the swings and fucked in your backseat as if we hadn’t spent the entire year there.

On a weekend visit home from boarding school in 2012, you hid a letter written on the back of a Southwest ticket in one of the bushes outside my house. I’d gotten too drunk and fallen asleep before I could sneak out to meet you, which in retrospect was probably a good thing. I’d just started dating someone else—someone I actually was allowed to talk to, and who wrote me every week. “Whenever you feel the pain of the past, turn to the gift of the unwritten future,” I remember the last line read. I kept that letter for years. I wish I hadn’t lost it.

You pulled the car over in the middle of a snow storm in 2013 and asked if I still thought about marrying you. I was too high to respond, so you started recounting all the details of what we’d planned to fill the silence. Months later, halfway into summer, we met at the park near your house and watched the sunset. You were dating someone with the same name as me and for some reason that detail hurt more than others. Of course we were both already high when we met up that night, but we sat on a picnic table and smoked out of an orange together anyway.

I’m starting to realize meeting up to smoke gave us an excuse to see each other. You asked me if I was sleeping with anyone. I was, and it was a friend of yours. I know it’s sadistic of me but I almost did it just to see the look on your face when I told you.

We tried to say goodbye last summer on your birthday in June. Sitting on the curb near my old house at 2 AM, you remained standing and in the middle of the street. At one point you dropped to the ground and buried your face in your hands, shaking your head.

“We have a few options. We could say goodbye, never talk again, and wonder what could have been. It’s clear we can never be friends. Or we could say fuck it and finally really try this. But if we do that, if we try, that makes this real. This won’t ever truly end. Not nicely, at least. We’ll either end up married or fucking hating each other,” I said.

“But I don’t want to risk that, the last thing I want to do is hate you,” you said. When you looked at me I could tell you were trying not to cry.

I will always love you, no matter how many times we try to quit each other; no matter if ever follow through with it or not. Talking about sharing the rest of your life with someone changes you and your future; you’ll always be comparing what you’re currently living to the life you two planned, because that life still lives in a way; a shared house is bought in your thoughts and the girls and boys names you chose will never sound the same. That life doesn’t just go away. It stays tucked in your back pocket even as you fuck and love and breakup with other people.

But I realize it became a crutch. Something to lean on when I was insecure, because what we felt for each other always proved to be more permanent than any other feeling. You like my art and when I’m sad, it doesn’t scare you. I told you I’d meet you in Colorado once I graduated, and I encourage you to tell me what you’re thinking. We know how to argue and the kind of love we have is the closest to home we’ve felt in years. But I can’t seem to do this with you anymore and I wish I could explain why.

X

Ryan was in the midst of random men I turned to when I first tried to forget you my senior year of high school. It’s not that I was a slut or too easy to the extreme, but I did fuck and still fuck in attempts to shove you to the back of my mind sometimes. Of the few that I bent the rules with, Ryan stood out. He was a sophomore at smart school who had a full ride that was publicized around town, and his dad had died suddenly a few years back. He was mainly known for that. That, and his drug dealing.

He started talking to me at the end of my dwindling attempt of a relationship with a guy I was friends with. I swear he could smell the pity and knew he could have me. He picked me up the Sunday after I drunkenly dumped him. I left 3 AM Monday a much happier girl.

He then started driving home once a week, then twice a week, then three times just to pick me up from school and go straight to his room. As far as my mother was concerned, I was “at the library”. I remember not feeling the pressure to feel when I was with him. He wasn’t over his ex, I wasn’t over mine. We got to smoke and fuck and drink whiskey straight from the bottle without any leftover shame of why we were doing it and we didn’t have to confront that. I remember him going down on me as I smoked from a vape pen from the first time, pressing the button and watching the blue light start flashing when it deemed I’d had enough. High as hell, I laughed at the metaphor, and when he looked up from confusion, I chose not to share. “Just fuck me,” I said instead.

One night when we were half a bottle of Captain deep, I noticed he wasn’t as in to it. Something about how he kept stopping and moving his face away from mine felt off; I was used to having to be the one to slow him down. Not caring enough to question it, we continued until he pushed himself off and rolled away from me.

“What’s going on?” I finally asked. It was quiet for a moment. I watched his back expand in quick spurts and felt the tension of his held breath.

“My dad is dead,” he said to the wall.

And all I could think of to say back was “I know”. I stopped fucking him after that.

X

You drove to see me in the city the other night. You were here and in front of me and so visibly in love with me so I tried to love you back just like I used to, but my body wouldn’t let me. We fell asleep on the floor and when we woke, I forgot it was you for a minute, and yet I don’t know who else I would’ve assumed was holding me. The guilt I felt when you thought it was an accident I was inching away was overwhelming.

I put myself to bed, and you followed because we were too drunk and high to fight anymore. But when you placed your hands on my face and kissed me awake the next morning, I panicked.

A life with you seemed plausible when the past didn’t hurt.

I’d forgotten that it always would.

Flashback to you sitting on that senior girl’s porch; summer 2010. I walked outside as the party was dying and watched my friends give in and get picked up by their disappointed parents; I hadn’t even dialed a number yet. You and a friend were passing a blunt back and forth across the table and I just stood there as this semi-confident freshman.

You then passed it to me without making eye contact.

I tasted grape as you talked with him about schools you were applying to, and I thought about the weekend before. I’d been babysitting and still invited you over, convinced you it’d be okay to sneak over to my house once I got home.

Mistakenly using Nare when I thought it’d be the night. Not even feeling the pain of it and the rest of my mistakes once you came.

You were my consensual first time, and we were at the same party. You were my first time, and I was excited about it. You were my first time, and you wouldn’t look me in the eye. And I wish I never pretended that I was okay after that.

I look up from my midnight secret cigarette and notice the lamp screwed above the balcony's door is lopsided. I sigh because I am too tired to laugh.

I'll write about it once I get to my room,​ I think.

Fuck I hope I remember it by the time I get there...

Why do I have to drink more than a bottle of wine to feel like I get the peace I deserve? I scramble my pockets for a better working lighter and found just that and my inhaler. 

I light another and play a song I liked when I was 16. The shadows on the wall are dancing nicely and I wish to photograph it, but the cold stops me.

X

I’m sitting cross-legged in contempt, contemplating whether or not it’s emptiness, and breathe out smoke as I rub my knees for warmth. I wonder what and why I let come between them. Sometimes when reminders of lost memories flood back, I wince and make a sound. I’ve learned that these add up, and at odd moments, sting me with shame.

My mother asked what I did with the four days she gave me left alone in this house and I gave a detailed description of how the silence was so nice it rewarded with me over ten pages of writing I could use for class. In reality, it gave me only four, none of which for school. I didn't care. And I don’t, I really fucking don’t.

I'm writing, I'm expressing-- in ways I haven't in a while. I haven't been in therapy since 2013 and I'm coping in weird ways, the best of which is this. Everything still hurts, and that everything covers from the bullying to the blackouts to feeling like my father avoids looking me in the eye. I drink, to an extent I deem necessary, but I don't smoke nearly as much. Pretending the Xanax I'm prescribed doesn't count lets me validate the idea that I'm not abusing pills like I used to, but when the amount adds up every so often, it's hard to ignore. And I’m finally trying to push you out of my life and forget all the good and focus on the bad because there really is so much of it—more than we’d both like to admit. So yes, I'm sitting here cross-legged on a lawn chair on my balcony, and I can’t pretend it is not freezing. And yes, I used to be able to. But please, try to remember, I used to be able to pretend many things.

[crazedlunatic]

Questions

“Quit whining, Blaine.”

“I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because I’m grumpy and sleepy and I need a nap.”

“So shut up and take a nap?” David asked, looking at Blaine like he was crazy.

“I can’t just take a nap. There are certain parameters to be met. Wes isn’t here, you’re busy, and I know I technically did cuddle with Andy once but it was just weird.”

“When did you cuddle with Andy? How did he meet your parameters? Wait. Andy from here or Andy from church?”

“Are they not the same Andy?” Blaine, who was half draped over the back of the couch, sat up straight.

“… They look nothing alike.”

“That actually explains a lot... so I’m not sure which it was.” Blaine fell back onto the couch in a laying position. “Do you think your mom would mind if I went home this weekend without you?”

David looked at him, clearly trying to decide if he should laugh or be annoyed.

“Because your sister cuddles me. Your mom too. And I’ll have you know that once, I cuddled your dad. He didn’t necessarily cuddle back but it was still nice because he didn’t push me away. Do you think I always want to cuddle because I was starved for affection as a child?”

“No. I think it’s because you’re a cuddle whore.”

“That is rude.” Blaine scoffed.

David got a mischievous grin on his face and then said, “Hey, Kurt!”

Blaine shot up into a sitting position, eyes lighting up.

“God, this is disgusting.” Wes groaned as he came in behind Kurt. “Please don’t. I can’t stomach the painfulness today, Blainers.”

“I thought we weren’t going there?” David looked at Blaine, amused.

For how many times Blaine had openly admitting that he wanted to cuddle Kurt, he never came out and did it.

“I need body heat to survive. Otherwise I’ll slip back into a depression and we’ll lose regionals, soooo….”

“You better get your ass over there and start cuddling then.” Wes’ voice was much more urgent. “Please don’t make me give that solo to Nick because we will be fucked in the ass—no offense to you, Kurt, Nick, or Jeff.”

“I think Blaine needs fucked in the—ass.” David cringed as Kurt walked within hearing distance.

“Did I…. interrupt something?”

“Blaine needs body warmth. Apparently, his chubby cheeks aren’t doing it for him right now.” Wes said. “You should sit with him. Or on him. On his lap. With your pants off—”

Blaine grabbed an empty can of Dr. Pepper and hurled it at Wes’ head.

“God. I think your talent is wasted on soccer.” Wes huffed, raising his textbook before it could hit him right in the face. “Gross. I think there was still some in it. Thanks for that.”

“Any time.” Blaine said and then smiled brightly at Kurt. “Did you have a good weekend? We missed you yesterday.”

“I did have a good weekend. I miss my Dad when I’m not here so I try to go a lot… we’re pretty close.” Kurt nodded.

“Well Blaine’s also pretty close to his hand…”

Blaine’s eyes widened in horror and he shot Wes a very un-Blaine look.

Kurt blinked several times, unsure if he’d heard what he thought he did.

“Yeah, I’ve got stuff to do.” David hopped up, giving Blaine a very pointed look.

Blaine tilted his head, facial expression neutral but it was clear they were having a silent conversation with each other.

“I’m going to go with him ‘cause I’m afraid to be outnumbered by gay guys.” Wes hopped up as well, following David out of the common room.

“… Are you the weird one or are they the weird ones?” Kurt asked him, still looking confused.

“That’s debatable, honestly. They pretty much adopted me and won’t let me leave.” Blaine said—which was kind of the truth. “So… uhm… do you like Harry Potter?”

“Not really.” Kurt shrugged. “My aunt tried to get me into it when I was little but—why do you look like I just killed your sister? Oh God. Do you have a dead sister? Wait, do you have siblings?”

“I have a sister in law I’ve only met once and I’m pretty sure she was alive.” Blaine said.

“So, you have a brother?”

“Yeah. He’s a lot older, though. He moved to Italy when I was three so I don’t really know him that well. It’s kind of a every couple of years holiday dinner type deal.” Blaine shrugged. “You don’t like Harry Potter? Do you have siblings?”

“I have a stepbrother. I actually had a huge crush on hm at one point but we just pretend that didn’t happen.” Kurt said and then his blue eyes widened. “That might have been too much information.”

“Nah. I had a crush on Wes for about 4.5 hours and we’re like brothers.” Blaine shrugged.

“Wes? Really?”

“He’s pretty sweet if you get him in the right mood… and he actually cuddles with me usually but he’s in a mood… probably because David lost his virginity first.” Blaine shrugged again. “You do like Disney, though, right?”

“I mean, I haven’t really watched the movies much since I was younger but I went to Disney World every year until I was seven.” Kurt shrugged this time.

“Why did you quit going?”

“Uhm… well, my mom died.” Kurt admitted.

Blaine’s eyes widened in horror.

“It’s okay!” Kurt said quickly. “Really!”

“This is why they just let me sing but not actually communicate with the outside world.” Blaine groaned, covering his face with one hand.

“I could ask you a personal question to make up for it?” Kurt suggested. “If it’d make you feel better?”

“It might.” Blaine lowered his hand.

“If your family lives in Westerville, why do you live here? Don’t you even stay on the weekends?” Kurt asked. “I know a lot of kids aren’t local to here, so…”

“Uhm… Well, I don’t spend all of my weekends here but I don’t spend any of them with my family.” Blaine said, tone very… even.

Because he hadn’t expected this… although, honestly, David had warned him it would be coming.

They’d been friends for months and it was only natural for Kurt to wonder.

“Can I ask why?” Kurt asked.

Blaine opened his mouth a few times to speak but closed it just as many times.

“You don’t have to answer.” Kurt said, now looking concerned.

“The best way to put it is that… my grandmother is a politician and judge… a Republican politician and judge…” Blaine said. “I don’t really stand for what they believe in and, honestly I don’t really want to be in a spotlight anyway, especially for that, so… I just don’t go home. I get lunch with my Mom once a week, though, which is about as much as I can handle.”

Kurt stared at Blaine, his blue eyes wide.

“It’s fine.” Blaine said quickly, able to tell Kurt was now worried. “I’m fine. I just… I’m more comfortable here and with David and Wes’ families. I’m happy at Dalton and my parents aren’t great but I do have a solid support system in their families so it’s… good. It’s good. I’m good.”

“Blaine…”

“No. Really.” Blaine reassured him. “Honestly I’m happier than I’ve been in a really long time and hopefully I’ll get a scholarship and never have to worry about it again.”

Kurt’s expression softened.

“Pinky promise?” Blaine held out his pinky.

Kurt bit back a smile, linking pinkies with Blaine. “Okay. So, you get to ask another question. Maybe three more to make up for that one.”

“Hmm.” Blaine looked thoughtful, tucking his legs underneath himself. “What do you want to do in college? I mean… assuming you want to go to college.”

“I would like to go to Parsons for fashion design in undergrad… maybe stay there for grad school or move to LA to grad school.” Kurt said and then added, “Assuming I’d even get into fashion for undergrad. What about you?”

“Well I’m hoping I’ll get a soccer scholarship. I could get recruited from Duke, US Santa Barbara, and UCLA… I mean, supposedly. I know they’ve been around but I haven’t actually talked to any of them after they’ve watched.” Blaine shrugged.

“But what would you go for?”

“At the moment I think I’m more focused on getting out than what I’ll do once I get in.” Blaine admitted.

“You don’t know what you want to do? At all?”

“Honestly the last couple of years I’ve just been trying to get to where I am now. I used to want to be a lawyer or a doctor but… I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Why not?”

“My dad is a doctor and my grandmother is a judge… and I don’t really want to follow in their footsteps.” Blaine paused and then added, “Or end up like them. I’m kind of counting down the days to graduation so I’ll never have to see them again.”

“I’m sorry.” Kurt bit his lip, looking upset.

“I’ll get everything figured out once I’m not tied to them anymore. I just need to get to that point and then I’ll be good.” Blaine said confidently.

“Yeah.” Kurt nodded.

“Seriously. Don’t worry.” Blaine gave Kurt his usual, bright smile.

“I just didn’t know you might be leaving this summer.” Kurt’s voice was soft. “I didn’t think about it. Sometimes I forget you’re a year older than me… well, a grade higher, really. Our birthdays aren’t far apart but I missed the school enrollment deadline by a month to be in your grade. I’ll… miss you.”

Blaine frowned because, honestly, he hadn’t really thought about that.

He knew he liked Kurt—liked him much more than even David or Wes probably knew. And of course he’d known he was a senior and Kurt was a junior… but he hadn’t thought about what that meant. That soon they may have been separated.

“I’ll miss you too, Kurt.” Blaine’s voice was soft. “I could end up at OSU or UK, though.”

“I understand wanting to get out.” Kurt said. “More than you may know. Starting over on your own, no history… I really want that too.”

“Hey, maybe I’ll get into UCLA and you’ll get into fashion design school in LA. We could totally be roommates or something.”

Or something as in maybe boyfriends… then partners… then husbands… then dads.

But that was ridiculous.

They were in high school.

That kind of stuff didn’t happen in real life.

“I think you’d be a really good lawyer or doctor.” Kurt said. “You shouldn’t write those off because of your family.”

Blaine swallowed hard looking at Kurt, his chest tightening at the thought of maybe leaving in August and never seeing him again.

What if it was too late and they’d missed their chance?

“I should probably work on my French essay, but maybe I’ll see you at dinner?” Kurt stood up.

“Kurt—” Blaine moved to stand but didn’t do it. He looked up at Kurt, his hazel eyes meeting Kurt’s blue ones.

“Blaine?”

“I really, uhm… like you.” Blaine licked his lips anxiously.

“I really like you too, Blaine.” Kurt’s voice was soft—it was always so soft. “It just… it’s hard to think about not being…”

“Yeah.” Blaine said, knowing what Kurt meant because he felt it too.

They both knew they wanted to be together but for some reason, Blaine was holding back. It was obvious Blaine was the one, too. Kurt was upfront. Kurt was consistent. Blaine was out outlier. The wildcard.

Everything was in Blaine’s court and he hated it because he had a hard time admitting his feelings over the simplest things, let alone how hard it was to talk about what was in his heart.

“How is Pavaratti doing? I know you said he was acting a little weird last night.”

“I don’t know. I think he’s okay. Maybe he’s not done molting yet or something?” Kurt grabbed his bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow for more Blaine and the Pips practice. Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.” Blane frowned as Kurt left the common room, his stomach in knots.

Why was it that he had a plan, a real plan, to get out… and then Kurt shows up? And why was it that he couldn’t get Kurt out of his mind for more than an hour at a time?

And why did his heart feel like it had been ripped out after seeing Kurt’s facial expression when Blaine admitted he wanted to get away when he went to school?

And the even more important question… why did he want to sabotage his next recruit visit the next day so he had an excuse to stay local and go to OSU or UK?