#brought to you by: it's 4:30am and i have had five days to do this assignment and i just am having the worst time of my life

[teememdee]

post to hold me accountable for making some kind of call in the morning to maybe try and get an adhd diagnosis or something finally because i cannot handle this organically anymore

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

*deep inhale* ah, yes, the smell of approaching chaos

part thirteen

❝ AQUAINTANCES ❞

SATURDAY — AUGUST 8 — 4:30AM

ASTEN SLEPT ON THE LEFT SIDE OF BENTLEY’S KING BED THAT NIGHT.

He envied the way Asten could fall right back asleep after everything he’d been through. He was all curled up under Bentley’s gray comforter, his black and blue hair sticking out like a sore thumb in the midst of all the dark sheets. 

Asten had been eerily quiet since the car ride. Bentley didn’t blame him, not at all. Bruce didn’t try to make him talk: he only asked him a few things, like if he needed anything to eat, or his preferred sleeping arrangement. Everything offered was quickly declined and he made it clear he just wanted to go to bed.

Neither he nor Bentley changed their clothes, they just crawled up into his bed and laid there, with one lamp on, in silence.

And that’s exactly what Bentley was still doing. Asten had fallen asleep long ago — the sun was probably going to come up in an hour or two. Maybe Bentley would’ve been able to rest if his sleep schedule wasn’t so screwed up.

He’d been sitting up against the headboard, mindlessly playing games on his phone, listening to Asten’s even breathing. There wasn’t much left for him to do but sit there and swim in his own thoughts, which had been a strange mix of what would happen if the Secret Keeper found them, wondering if he upset Dick by leaving the hospital bed, what would’ve happened if Tim hadn’t been able to get to Asten fast enough, and a slew of other mildly unpleasant things regarding their current situation.

His first ever sleepover had been brought about by a horror-movie-level supervillain chasing a kid he’d known for five days around downtown Gotham. Given what his life had held so far, he should’ve expected something like that.

Bruce had poked his head in once, and Bentley just sort of waved at him. They exchanged a few texts afterwards, but it had been a while since then, and Bentley hoped he went back down with Dick. Dick deserved having his dad down there with him.

When the clock struck 4:33am, and the after-patrol bedroom doors had been closed for a while, Asten stirred, humming incoherently.

Bentley glanced over at him, watching him shift around until he pulled the comforter up and over his head.

He mumbled almost incoherently in Portuguese, running all his words together. “Não… não. Por favor, não leve minha mãe embora. Por favor, não a leve embora.”

“Asten?” Bentley questioned, shifting slightly to face him.

“Não. Por favor. Não a tire de mim. Eu não quero ficar sozinho…”

Bentley reached over and tapped at the wiggling blankets. “Asten.”

A few seconds later, Asten’s head popped out, hair a mess, and he blinked. “Huh?”

“You were talking,” Bentley replied quietly. Asten cringed, so Bentley added: “Not in English.”

“What time is it?”

He glanced over at his glowing clock. “Four-thirty-four.”

“Ugh,” Asten grumbled, tugging the comforter back over his head. “You haven’t been able to sleep?”

“No,” Bentley replied. “I slept for a while after school.”

Asten’s voice was muffled under the blanket. “Guess I was really lucky your sleep schedules botched, huh?”

Bentley glanced over at the Asten-shaped lump in the blankets.

“You would’ve been okay,” He tried.

“You and I both know I would’ve been dead,” Asten replied, pulling the blankets off of his head. (Which made his hair even messier.) “It might be scary to think about, Whittaker, but you answering that phone probably saved my life. For real.”

Bentley said nothing. Most of him wanted to disregard that, to say that surely Asten would’ve been fine, but there was a small part of him that knew he was probably right.

“And I realize I’m staying at your house within like, a week of meeting you, and that’s kinda weird.” He continued, bringing the blanket back over his head. “So, sorry.”

“It’s not that weird,” He stated simply, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “I mean, you’re my friend, aren’t you?”

Asten let out a huff of a laugh. “I’d like to think so. I knocked out a bully for you and you kept me from getting murdered, I’d say that surpasses the acquaintance category.”

Bentley shrugged. “I guess I’m just not the best at telling who likes me and who doesn’t.”

A moment of silence passed, and Bentley’s mind lingered on Damian.

“I guess you never really know. People can be fake right up until they’re not,”

Considering that Damian could’ve been fake-liking him the whole time didn’t make Bentley feel any better.

“So, ginger, I’m sleeping next to you and hardly know anything about you,” Asten stated, sitting up slightly against the headboard and pulling the blanket off his head again. “You’re not from Crime Alley or Bristol, you don’t sound like either of those. Where are you from?”

Bentley took in a breath, and let it out. “Drew.”

“That’s the city next to Bludhaven, isn’t it?” He questioned.

“I think so,” Bentley stated, trying to remember all the aerial maps he’d seen on the Batcomputer.

“I’m from São Paulo, a city in Brazil,” Asten explained, pulling his knees up sort of like Bentley usually did.

Bentley shifted against the headboard. “Why did you move here?”

Asten quieted.

“My, uh… parents died a couple years ago. In a car crash,” He said, speaking softer than he had been. “I don’t have any family in Brazil, grandparents or anything. My only relative was my dad’s brother, who lives here. So that’s who I went to.”

Bentley cringed, watching the way Asten’s eyes lingered on his own hands. He really did suck at talking to people, didn’t he?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad,” He muttered, bringing his knees up, too.

“Hey, no sweat, kid.” Asten reached over and bumped him on the shoulder, quickly ridding his face of any undue emotion. “I’m fine. How’d you end up in Bruce Wayne’s house, anyway?”

Bentley quickly weeded through all the things he couldn’t tell Asten, which was basically everything. What was he supposed to say?

“My dad… got arrested… last December,” Is what he settled on. “And my mom died when I was a baby. My dad knew Bruce.”

“Oh,” Was what Asten replied. And then he snorted. “We are some little pity-fest, aren’t we?”

The word pity didn’t make Bentley feel any better, either. But he forced a little smile on nonetheless.

“Why are you in my classes when you’re older than me?” Bentley questioned, desperately trying to change the subject.

“I was homeschooled in Brazil, so credits and stuff were different when I moved here,” Asten explained, shifting so his position was mirroring Bentley’s. “You were homeschooled, weren’t you?”

Did anything his father did count as homeschooling? Bentley wasn’t dumb by any means, and he knew the basics of math and stuff. 

“Uh, yeah,” He replied. Technically he was, right?

Had he been lying to Asten this whole time? He couldn’t exactly tell him his dad was using him to destroy Batman, and he didn’t really think it was a societal norm to tell the first person you meet that you were abused and neglected for your whole life.

This whole double-life thing was hard. Of course, this wasn’t as hard as when he was trying to do his father’s work, but it was still hard.

“You seem like a homeschool kid,” Asten said with a smirk.

Bentley quirked his brow. “How?”

“Y’know, you just… have that way about you that lets me know you haven’t interacted with many people. It’s not a bad thing,” He insisted. “You’re similar to Nico, and he was homeschooled for a while, too.”

Bentley nodded slightly. (At least Asten thought he was homeschooled and not purposefully kept from outside contact by his abuser.)

“We can’t tell him about any of this Secret Keeper stuff, by the way. Nico. He’ll die on the spot,” Asten said, running a hand through his messy hair. 

“Okay,” Is all Bentley replied. With the reactions he’d seen from Nico so far (nearly crying over riding the bus, having an asthma attack over riding the bus, crying in the janitors closet when he wasn’t even the one afraid…) he really wouldn’t doubt it.

A few moments of silence passed. “Hey, Bentley?”

He looked up at Asten, brown eyes meeting green. “Yeah?”

“Have you really not seen her since your dream?” 

Bentley shook his head, pulling the blanket further onto his lap. “No, I haven’t. Not even when we went to pick you up.”

“I don’t think she’s alone,”

Bentley pinched his brows together, glancing over at Asten, who was staring off, deep in thought.

“What do you mean?”

Asten looked up at him, then down. “She was branded. Behind her left ear. I saw it in my dream — A symbol that looked like a weird A.”

Bentley sat up straighter. “Whats branded?”

“It’s, like… where you form metal in a certain symbol, then heat it up and burn the symbol onto someone’s skin. Like a mark that they belong to someone else,” He explained. “Luckily it’s not a common thing.”

Bentley squirmed a little in his spot, thinking about being branded by red-hot metal. “You… think she has a boss?”

Asten shrugged. “It’s just a thought. People don’t usually just brand themselves. Unless they’re trying to trick you and she knows I saw it, in that case, I don’t know.”

Another tense silence passed, but the way the gears were turning in each of their heads was nearly audible.

“You said in the car, you wanted your face to be the last thing she ever saw,” Bentley started, glancing up at him. “Would you actually go after her?”

Asten’s eyes lingered on his for a few moments, and something like a storm glimmered in the back of his green eyes. Similar to at school, but not so prominent. “If she’s going to make our lives miserable, then the least I can do is make her’s a hellscape in return. Why?”

Bentley glanced at his bedroom door, thinking of the family beyond.

“Because I…” Want to be good enough for them.

“… Want to help you.”

Asten searched his face for a moment, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ll have to beat the police,” He suggested.

Bentley shrugged. “And Batman.”

Asten smirked lightly. “You think we can do it?”

I’ve been trained into a deceptive weapon and living with the greatest detectives in the world, he wanted to reply.

“I think we need a plan,” Was what he said instead.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

[jargonbyjulia]

“It’s impossible!”

I’ve heard the saying, “Mums get no days off.” It’s true and it isn’t. I know a couple of mums that get plenty of days off, with health retreats throughout the year, child-free holidays, and so on. Sometimes days off seem IMPOSSIBLE. Even getting through some days seems impossible. I get a few hours to myself; I like to get my nails done, and tomorrow I have a first hair appointment in six months - shock horror!

I have a two and a five year old, and I work part time. On Thursdays I work at home, and I like to think of that as my day “off”. I work in peace, I play my own music, I answer only to the ding of Teams’ notifications, emails and my stomach rumbles. Today is Thursday, and I had my two year old home sick from daycare. It’s barely just winter, and we’ve been knocked out at least twice already. I did my best to keep her entertained while I caught up on the work I started Tuesday, where seven meetings had me pretty tied up. We were doing fine, and she was enjoying being home with me, watching Peppa Pig on repeat, and eating through the snack shelf of the pantry.

At 11:00am, my daughter’s school called asking if I could pick up my preppy as she had a headache, fever and sore tummy. So I alerted work, bundled up my toddler and ran to the rescue. She wasn’t well, at all. We made her warm and gave her medicine, and suddenly it was 11:30am, which means nap time for the little one. I quickly answered emails, started writing an article and reviewed some work. I made sure miss five was comfortable and then put miss two down for her nap. After that, I made a quick couple of sandwiches for us, and ate at my desk. While answering 785 questions, including “How do you spell chicken?” and “What is 78 plus 802?” (from my child, not a colleague), I worked through my list for the day, trying my hardest to focus on the tasks at hand. Suddenly it’s 1:45pm and my two year old is awake, and I break my focus. Now it’s time to prepare her food and get her playing happily with her sister. It’s much easier than I had thought, so I can get back to my work. By 3pm, she’s sitting on my lap tapping away at the keys on my computer, asking why I have a spare TV (my second computer monitor) and she just has a lousy plastic phone with dead batteries.

The dog is whining as he hasn’t had a walk all day. My husband left for work at 8:30am, and he won’t be back until we are asleep at 10pm. Miss five goes downhill as suddenly as Melbourne’s morning temperatures, and needs her fever brought down, so there’s no leaving the house. I’m starting to think getting through this day is impossible, but we push through with more snacks, YouTube kids and a cranked heater.

At 4:30pm I’m cooking lamb chops from Monday and drafting my weekly wrap-up for work.

My phone rings. My husband asks, “How was your day?” I sigh and say it was busy. I read some feedback about my work as the kids eat dinner in front of the fire I made by rubbing two sticks together because everyone is “SO COLD!” and I take a breath. Only a quick one though, as I need to run the bath for two girls who identify solely as mermaids and then hit send on one more message before the end of the working day. COB they call it; Close of Business. (Mums don’t really have a COB though, do they?!)

I haven’t had a shower all day, and it’s 6:20pm. My youngest just shut her head in the fridge trying to make imaginary apple pie for the dog, there’s a full basket of clean laundry waiting to be folded on the kitchen table and I think the wombok I was relying on to substitute as salad leaf for my dinner is growing babies. But gosh, somehow I feel accomplished. There’s ice cream on the couch slowly seeping into the earth under our home, the iPads are dead and I am tired, so tired. But I’ve nearly ticked everything off my work to-do list, and, apart from fridge-headgate, the girls are now content, warm, full, laughing, and nearly ready for bed.

Mums do get days off, but not me today. And that’s ok! We got through it. I’m forever grateful for an extremely supportive workplace who understand what people, and mums, go through on a daily basis. No one pressured me to hit unrealistic deadlines, and everyone understood what I was going through, or at least sympathised or empathised with me. And in the end, it just makes me want to work smarter, and harder. In all aspects of my life.

There will be a glass or four poured tonight, and I’d say they are well deserved. I’ve just realised baby mermaid is due for her antibiotics, so I’ll end with one of our favourite Peppa Pig quotes, “It’s impossible!”

But really Peppa, NOTHING is impossible.

[harry-sussex]

Five years ago today, I was alone in London, staying at a tiny AirBnb that I shared with the owners (two middle-aged men). I woke up at about 4:45am and showered, packed a bag, got ready, and put on the clothes I’d picked out the night before. I had scheduled a cab for early morning, and he arrived at about 5:30am - took full advantage of the jet lag working in my favor. I met him outside on time - he brought me to an ATM quickly and then we embarked on the ~60min trip to Windsor, where he dropped me off near (but not at) the castle. I roamed about for about an hour and grabbed breakfast and a coffee from McDonald’s, as that was the only thing open at 6:45am on a Saturday.

It wasn’t your average Saturday, of course. I took my bag and a blanket and made my way over to the Long Walk, where I promptly took a seat in the damp morning grass, completely alone with nothing other than an official program and a book to keep me company. I had you guys, too, though there were far fewer of you around here back then.

I waited for several hours and made some friends along the way - a group of women from Seattle, a group of English women, and a reporter from South Africa. We all set up camp together, sharing snacks and iced coffee and champagne and Pimms while we let the hours pass by.

The crowds continued to build as we got closer and closer to wedding time. I’d secured a prime spot, close to the barricade and within viewing distance of the screens, but still able to see Windsor Castle. While we waited for the formal festivities to begin, we watched the guests - the Suits cast, the Middletons, Harry’s longtime friends - and then eventually the royals - Beatrice, Eugenie and Jack, Anne and Tim, Edward and Sophie, James and Louise, Zara and Mike, Peter and Autumn - find their seats. Then we saw the big ones - Kate (with many of Meghan’s friends) and the kids, Charles, and Camilla, Philip and HM.

Eventually, the time came, and (at the time), I’d never been so excited in my life. I just couldn’t believe it was finally happening - my Harry was marrying this beautiful, charming, smart, absolute force of a woman, and I couldn’t have been happier. I loved them, you see. I loved him, and I loved her.

I knew from November 27, 2017 that I was going to fly to London for the second time in my life to see this in person and, at last, I’d finally made it. My post from the first anniversary of their engagement, 11/27/2018:

When Meghan and Doria drove down the Long Walk, I literally flipped out - my picture of the moment is bad but even if you can’t see it in the photo, you could see her sparkling even through the windows as they sped (far too quickly) towards the castle:

We watched as William accompanied his little brother to the altar, and then waited for Meghan to emerge from the car. When she came out, there was a collective gasp - that veil was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, even through a screen.

We watched her walk herself halfway down the aisle, and then we watched Charles accompany her the rest of the way to his youngest. Harry looked elated - I’ve only seen him happier on the day Archie was born.

Before I knew it, the ceremony was over, the marriage had been blessed, and they were standing on the steps. They kissed and then made their way into the carriage to start the procession through Windsor.

I was unabashedly ecstatic by the time I could see the procession coming my way. The crowd was freaking out - cheering and bouncing and, of course, I was bawling. I did the entire time through the wedding too. You guys know I can’t stop myself from the happy tears.

I refused to watch the procession through my camera - I wanted to see it with my own two eyes. I just snapped photos and hoped I’d catch something to see later:

I screamed, cried, waved like my life depended on it, and basked in the fact that my Harry was married and happy and that I loved Meghan because he loved her and that I’d gotten to witness the whole thing with my own two eyes in the crowds of people who’d loved him as their own since the day he was born.

After the hysteria died down, I went and took a nap under a large tree, then roamed my way back to where I’d been dropped off so I could continue with my plans for the day. I ended up with one of the worst sunburns of my life because the weather was so perfect.

I’d never been so happy, though. Never. It was an experience I’ll cherish for the rest of my life and even now, after everything, I wouldn’t change it for the world. I still have all of my little souvenirs - a small crystal glass with their joint monogram, the program, and even a tiny stuffed ornament marking the birth of Prince Louis not even a month prior. I’d give anything for it to go back to the way it was back then, of course - but back then, I’d loved them so much back then that, at the time, it was the single best day of my life.

My hysteria was documented by my new South African friend, who was a reporter. She wrote an article on their three year anniversary that partially described my experience and the way I felt through the whole thing (and the many years before):

I wish we could go back to those days. I wish things were different. It didn’t have to be this way, but at the end of the day, this is the life they chose in lieu of the life they were living five years ago today. Every time I see something new and painful and sad I think back to this day, how happy I was and how much I loved them and, more importantly, how happy they were. I miss it every day. I’d do it all over again, even knowing today what I didn’t then. I’d make that solo, whirlwind trip all over again in a heartbeat.

To the Sussexes - I hope it was all worth it. I hope your new life - miles and miles and years and years away from the life you together embarked on five years ago today - is as good as you’d wanted it to be when you left. I hope you’re as happy today, and even happier, than you were on this day five years ago, you and those beautiful babies. Even though it breaks my heart, I hope you’re happy in your new life that could not possibly be any more different than the life you lived before.

I hope you’re happy. I hope it was all worth it.

Happy 5 years, Harry and Meghan.

[passingdaysthings]

7.31.2023 - Super Busy

Today is Monday.

I am currently at work, and this will actually be my first full week at work because I got hired right before all my training. Working is still annoying, but I have gotten more use to it since I realized that this confusion is just that labs dynamic. Everyone is just kind of doing things as they come up and finishing task as they're assigned. I feel better because I know more about my roles and responsibilities now so I am only focused on what I need to get done by my onboarding deadline.

School has also been better, and my grade has recovered a bit. I think I will be able to finish class with a B as I had planned. I am just a little worried because I understand what is happening in my class conceptually, but I don't know how well I can actually right queries in SQL. I usually just ask chatgpt to do it and explain to me. I feel bad, but I think it's the best way more me to learn since I am always so tired during my lectures. I never participate in the group breakout sessions because I am there to learn not talk about stuff every five minutes. I just want to know how to do it, and then, do it on my own later. I don't wanna discuss it with a bunch of other people who are also tired and not sure what they are doing. I wouldn't mind it too much if he did an example first and then told us to do the sessions, but that's not how he does it. He just reviews the async, and give us a problem. I just learn much better through examples, and being explained why we are doing what we are doing. I am glad that chatgpt actually gives examples and will explain those examples too. It's like having a professor at the tip of your fingers.

I read in my last post that Taylor had started making random comments again, and saying more crossing the line things so I guess I should have expected what happened last Monday. I didn't even have time to really think about it since then because it was sudden. Last Monday, I was at home because it was my last day of COVID, and he was making comments about how I should just stay home another day and tell them I have COVID again so we can spend time together. Things like this really remind of how we use to be, but I didn't really think too much about it. Moving on, he went to help his grandpa, and he started drinking a bit when he came back so this next interaction was done while he was tipsy. We just played some games and watched dramas like usual. I tried to say good bye because I need to go back to work the next day, but we were having a more serious conversation which he can only do when he gets tipsy. He says he doesn't have the courage to talk freely when he is sober which is why our interaction really baffled me. We've had a pretty normal friendship since we stopped talking about things sexually, but he brought it up again. He legitimately told me he was watching the videos I had saved, but I acted like I forgot about them and said I forgot. He told me that I should continue forgetting because he didn't want me to delete them to which I asked if he still looked at them and he went hell yeah. I was confused because he wanted to stop (and I support that), but why is he still watching them??? I don't get it. He went on to talk about how I was making him horny, and I egged it on a bit too because I thought it was funny. We finally hang up, and he said he needed to go take care of himself. I fucking passed out after we hung up, but 20 minutes later, Taylor called me back to say he didn't wanna sleep alone and wanted me to stay him. He proceeded to pass out right after saying that. It was like 4:30am at this point, and I need to get up for work at 7am. I legit slept for about 2 hours. The next day, he proceeded to act weird, give me on word responses, and not say a single thing in the groupchat. I get so annoyed when he does this, like if it's fucking weird or you feel awkward about it then just don't do it. I don't like having to deal with his weirdness after he says it does something he feels some type of way about. We've talked about fucking before, we did all these things, and then we ended the relationship. It's as simple as that. I feel like he acted weird because he eneded it this time, but then he brought it back up. I was really taken aback that night because I thought we were done, but then he brought it up again. He says that he feels more normal and can talk freely about what he thinks when he drinks, but did he do what he did simply because he wants to sleep with me or is there more? If there is more, then I hope he keeps it to himself forever or until he figures out what he wants from me. There are times where I think he is playing with me, but Im like.. I live so far away. Wtf is the benefit of leading me on? He is also very caring towards me so I am pretty sure it's not something that he is doing with malicious intent. The man doesn't even like talking to people, but makes sure to talk to me everyday and keep our snapstreak alive. Alright, I am done with that because I think I've processed it enough. I really don't even wanna think about it. I didn't ever bother asking him since I knew he didn't wanna talk about it.

-P

[boy-in-a-flower-crown]

notable people from my seven months of working the graveyard shift

- the regular who came in every day before 5 am to buy at least two lottery tickets and two scratch tickets

   - on one occasion he came in while I was mopping the floor and he couldn't see me and i yelled "hi!" and he responded with "i wish I was"

- the surprisingly well dressed but still very exasperated man who came in at about three am asking for coffee creamer

- the 34 year old 5 foot tall woman who came in wearing hello kitty PJs at 4:45 in the morning and was incredulous that i asked her for ID when she asked to buy cigs

- the man with a smoker's voice who purchased four dollars worth of gas entirely with quarters

- the man who came in without a mask, ordered an extra large coffee, and when I started saying "because you're not wearing a mask i will have to dispense the beverage for you", he cut me off after "mask" and said "oh yeah I'm so sorry dude! i just had the most passionate kiss with someone..." while putting up a bandana. his credit card declined on $2.30 and he then ran away looking for cash. he never came back.

- the man with a heavy russian accent who was very upset that we didn't carry whole coffee beans

- the customer on skip the dishes that ordered five bottles of pepsi, a litre of milk and a bag of wine gums at 1 in the morning

- the person who left a mostly empty tub of Betty Crocker french vanilla frosting open and with a spoon on the counter

- the woman who came in at 1:30am asking to use the bathroom and when I told her no pubic access she said, verbatim, "I'm gonna take his head between my thighs, or what's left of them because I'm a skinny little chicken, and I'm gonna pop it off." no i don't know who "he" is

- the man who came in quite literally strutting at 4:30 am saying "cinnamon buns" over and over

- the kid who told me "have a good evening" at 5:30am

- the woman who asked me for cigs and rolled her eyes when I ID'd her, said "I'm 30 years old", and walked out. that's when I noticed that not only was she in her pyjamas, but she was also wearing slippers. like, in the house with a housecoat, bright pink and fuzzy kind of slippers

- the man who had to be at least in his 40s who was using what appeared to be a spiderman themed velcro clasped wallet

- the man who practically begged me to get the store to order more cinnamon buns

- the man who asked "where's your floss?" at 1:30am

- the absolute chaotic boys who asked me to sell them single cigs

- the Uber driver who told me "bless you and bless your family, you're doing a wonderful job"

- the person who ordered two packs of triple a batteries and nothing else at 1 in the morning

- the very spunky girl who came in at 2 in the morning asking if we sold caramels, and told me "it was a craving i got at 1am and i was like 'yeah let's make this!' and no. it didn't work. toxic sludge from hell." and left.

- the older woman who said "the luckiest married women become mothers, and the luckiest married men become motherfuckers."

- the boys who came in at 11pm and asked if we sold firecrackers

- the guy who straight up asked me if he could steal a taquito

- the people who made popcorn in our microwave at 2 in the morning

- the woman who told me to go masturbate after i ID'd her

- an entirely separate woman who came in wearing different hello kitty PJ pants, asked for cigs, and was incredulous when I ID'd her

- a man with an incredibly thick Irish accent who asked me why i was on the graveyard shift, and after saying "it's a pretty easy shift, especially as an introvert" he said "introversion doesn't exist" then as he was leaving he said, "you're adhd as fuck though, aren't you"

- the person who ordered two bottles of water and three packs of gum at two in the morning

- the woman who, as she was leaving, said "until next time, keep fit, and have fun."

- the man who came in at 4:30 am and told me he just had a really good date with a seagull

- the girl who asked me if her hair gave me a stoner vibe when it actively made me think of an anime girl

- the guy who was driving a bobcat

- the (definitely cis) guy who came in looking for oil and the like at about 4am. when he brought all his stuff to the counter he said, "this shit is getting too expensive" and i responded "this is why I don't drive," to which he said "well if it's got tits or tires it's gonna cause you trouble and it's gonna cost you a lot of money."

- the guy who came in, put two cans of red bull on the counter, then asked if we had twizzlers. upon hearing no, he said "forget it" and walked out without buying the red bulls.

- the man who, to pay for his items, pulled out a jar of coins that included pennies (I'm in Canada, where pennies have been discontinued for almost a decade)

- the man who came in and asked if any sex stores are in the area and open (it was 2 am). after telling him no he tried buying condoms, for which his card declined. he then proceeded to ask me if I wanted to hang out with him when my shift was over.

- the ridiculously drunk man who came in at three in the morning and when I said "hi!" he replied "good"

- the boys in their early twenties who came in at 3am and while waiting for me to grab the slurpee cup i overheard one of them say "look at how good his hair looks, i feel like i should be being fucked looking at it."

- the man who paid for a pack of cigs almost entirely in quarters

- *we'd started doing donations for covid relief in India* the man who after asking if there were sizes for the condoms, during the transaction i asked if he'd like to make a donation and he said "why would I donate to covid?" after his payment went through he said "would you?" and i said "donate to a covid relief fund?" and he said "yeah" and i was like "??? yes???"

- two people asked me if I said the donation was for chlamydia. the first guy said "if it's for chlamydia then I'm not donating" but the second guy said "i mean chlamydia sucks too, I'd donate either way"

- the three very drunk and very considerate girls who were all dressed as flappers

- the guy who asked for four tea bags for his 12oz cup and proceeded to make what I'm assuming was an attempt at a London fog

- the man who came in at about 3:40 after I'd already completed cash counts. he put a jug of chocolate milk on the counter and said "does it bother you that I'm buying this? like, can you keep it a secret just between us?" and i was like "i mean yeah sure" and then i noticed he was holding several rolls of dimes and i told him "i can't take cash right now as I've already completed the counts for shift change" and he was like "not even for gas?" and i was internally like "yeah duh" and then he goes "look man i can go without the gas but i have to have my chocolate milk" and i was like "there's nothing i can do" and then he said "do you drink chocolate milk?" and i said "not frequently, no" and he said "oh, not since you were six?" and i was like "I'm lactose intolerant" which shut him up for about three seconds before he said "you're really not gonna budge?" and then walked out

- the guy who asked for the bathroom and when I said there's no public access he said "what about friends, I've been here twice" and i said "unless you're staff you don't get to use it" and he said "i have a staph infection, does that count" and when my unimpressed look told him no he said "well i tried" and left

- the eighty year old man who was actively using a Bowser snap wallet

- the guy who had to change his tire directly in front of the store at two in the morning

- the guy who punched me in the face with a bottle of iced tea, causing me a concussion and ultimately causing me to quit my job

[pit-and-the-pen]

Kissing In Cars

hi it’s 1:30am. I was listening to a song that inspired a sappy, painfully cute fic.

No one asked for this but I felt the need to create this after hearing a specific song.

George Weasley x Female Reader. 

Warnings: A shit ton of fluff, angst if you squint super hard at one point Fred gets his shit wrecked by a bookshelf, 

flashbacks are in italics 

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George couldn’t believe his eyes. If someone had told him he was dead and in heaven, he would have gladly excepted that idea. Because it was easier that the person in white walking towards him was anything less than an angel. 

The only thing that was grounding him in that moment was his twins hand clapping down on his shoulder. “Pinch me” George threw over his shoulder in a whisper. 

“Why?”

“I have to make sure this is real.” George chuckled out. 

“Trust me mate. It’s real.” Fred elbowed him in the ribs lightly. 

If someone had told him how beautiful you would look coming down an aisle he would have married you the first time he saw you. 

-Year 4- 

He had bursted into charms five minutes late. Flickwit only glancing up slightly before giving the red head a quick glance telling him to hurry up and join the class. His normal seat next to his twin was taken. The only one available next to the timid girl in his year that no one really ever heard speak. As he sat down as quickly as he could, he noticed she spelt mildly of strawberries. George shrugged it off and took out a notebook and franticly tried to catch up with what was on the board. 

A heavy sigh came from besides him and suddenly two pages were shoved under his arms. In small tight cursive was what George guessed as the earlier notes. He flicked his eyes over to the girl next to him who gave him a small eyeroll before looking down at her papers with a small smile. That smile made him stop in his tracks. How had he never noticed how warm it was after four years in classes with her. 

The aisle was impossibly long. His muscles tensed, trying to stop himself from running up just to grab your hand. Just to feel how soft the lace would be against your skin. To make sure this was in fact real. 

His eyes locked on yours for the first time since you stepped into the room and the smile that crossed your face nearly swept him off of his feet. 

-Year 5-

“Stop it you prat, we really need to study.” You said through giggles as you balled up a piece of scrap paper to throw at the older twins head. 

“No but seriously. We could do it. We’d make a killing if we made them available for all students.” Fred piqued up from the corner, shoving down his own laughter. 

“And where would I fit into this?” You said, going along with it for a second. 

“Why you’d be our second in command.” 

“Technically third since there are two of us.” George added with a wink towards you “No hard feelings I hope.”

“Oh no.” You said throwing your arms up. “Just choose your brother over me I see.” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave a small fake pout. 

“See that’s a hard spot to be in. My best mate and brother, or my best girl?” He taps his chin for a second before giving you a full on smile. “Sorry Fred. Gotta make her happy.” He says grabbing both sides of the top of your head and giving you a small kiss on the crown of your head. 

“Ass.” You said smacking him lightly at the sarcasm dripping from his voice. George was your best friend. Regardless of how fast your heart was beating at the small act of affection, joking or not.

You lock eyes with Fred and he gives you a knowing look before you give a very rude hand gesture and he just laughs. Shaking his head. 

Finally, you reach him. He vaguely processes the person next to you placing your hand in his. This felt right. Like his hand was always meant to be in yours. Like it was a missing puzzle piece that finally had been found under the couch. 

-Year 6-

“If you pull at your dress one more time. Love, you look amazing.” George Said, pressing a small kiss to your temple. 

“What if she doesn’t like me. What if she doesn’t like the color of my dress. Merlin, I knew I should have gone wit the blue one.” You voice breaking into a full panic. George grabs the sides of your face lightly. 

“Hey, hey.” He looks into your eyes and makes you take a deep breath with him. “She’s gonna love you, you know why?” You shake your head. “Because I love you.” He bends down and gives you a soft peck on the lips. Quieting any protest that was about to come out of your mouth. 

The words being spoken in front of him didn’t seem to matter. They floated in one ear and out the other like an unknown melody. The only thing he could focus on was the person in front of him. Her voice, the way the dress clung to her in all the right way making her look impossibly more beautiful. All that mattered right now was how much longer until he got to officially say he was your and you were his. Every word just brought him closer to the thing he wants more than anything in the world. You. 

-Battle of Hogwarts-

How did you manage to lose him. That was the first thing you promised him. Pinkies wrapped against each others. Foreheads pressed together. 

“Promise me you won’t leave.” You whispered as the battle started around you. 

“If you promise to marry me once we get out of this” He vowed, giving his fist a small kiss as you did the same to yours. 

You tried to stop the tear from rolling down your face as your mind raced at what was happening all around you. The sound of the battle only seeming to get louder as the castle was breached. 

A second later, before you could answer, a familiar voice screamed his name and before you knew he was bolting in the other direction. You called after him as his red hair got lost in the hoard of people. He didn’t mean to break the promise. It had been a silly request anyways. A selfish way to make sure you didn’t lose him. But George can handle himself. Still you found yourself running down after him. 

You saw it as it happened. The flash of green light hit so close to Freds face that when you saw him get blasted to the ground you were instantly paralyzed with fear. Percy and George instantly ducking down to check on their brother as you aimed a curse right at the person that had done it. A cry coming out of your throat as you tried to tell yourself it didn’t hit. As you rushed over to help them clear the rubble currently covering Fred, you let out a sigh of relief as you see him wince. 

“Well that wasn’t very nice.” He groans as the two boys get him onto his feet. 

Once Fred is into safety in the great hall, you snatch up George’s arm and throw your arms around his shoulders. 

“I love you. When we get out of this, I’m marrying you Weasley.” You said into his chest. Answering the question George had blurted out earlier. He smiled as he gave you a long kiss. 

“I do.” He heard your voice ring out loud and clear, the weight of the wedding band slipping onto his finger. He smiled so wide he could feel how much his checks hurt. He processed the happy tears slipping out of his eyes. Matching your tear streaked face now. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The voice called from behind him. This was it. This is what everyday since that day in Charms class had been leading up to. As he leaned in to press his lips against yours, he murmurs “Finally” before wrapping his arms around your waist and putting every ounce of love he ever felt for you into that first kiss. 

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General Taglist:@thoseofgreatambition @ickle-ronniekins @birdie-writes-blog @obsessedwithrandomthings-blog @harrysweasleys @kpopgirlbtssvt @shadowsinger11 @harrypotter239  @elf-punk @bitchywhisperswizard @m1rkw00dpr1ncess

[kashimos-hajime]

dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries. 

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker​ and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky​ with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too. 

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

.

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever? 

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas! 

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

.

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

.

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

[neverendingstories00]

Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.3)

Summary: Safin takes you on a tour of your new home and offers an interesting proposition.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: n/a

A/n: Guys, sometime needs to take my labtop away. Safin is 100% going to be the death of me. I cannot stop thinking about this pyscho man PLEASE rearrange my guts. Anyways, school is starting for me tomorrow (today since i’m posting this at like 2:30am). I’ll try and get Ch.4 out asap since that’s where the drama is gonna rise. Also, thank you for all the support and comments! I’m gonna respond to them all tomorrow, I promise. I love ya’ll and enjoy the story!! ❣️❣️

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Three days had gone by. You refused to leave your room after Safin’s temper tantrum. Three days in isolation weren’t the worst thing in the world even if you had no idea where you were. The room Safin had given you was elegant and bigger than your old flat. It was like if Japanese Zen had met modern times. A living room with endless books and plants connected to a bedroom and large bathroom. You felt like you were in a fancy hotel. Inside of the bathroom was a freestanding club that outlook a rock garden. Of course, you had tried to break the glass or crawl out one of the closet vents, but everything had been locked shut. At one point, you had felt the room had been made just for you (which it probably had been). Safin must have had a lot of time on his hands to be able to construct it. The books that were on the shelves were the same books you owned a home, the candles were all lavender and cherry blossom, and even the small amount of clothes he had offered and gotten your sizing in were accurate to your taste. It was oddly amiable, but alarming that he knew so much about you.

As you finished making your Feng Shi bed, you heard a gentle knock at the door. With years in the military, you had recognized footstep patterns. Safin had light but quick footsteps, his boots always making a clicking noise.  

“Good morning Y/n.” He says, his cold accented voice slightly muffled behind the door. “I wanted to come and apologize for my uncivilized manner a few nights ago. I didn’t realize that you would be in such a sensitive state. I believe adjusting to new surroundings can be quite difficult. The way I acted certainly didn’t help with that. I did not mean to frighten you.”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even want to respond. If you could survive on your own in the wilderness for a month, then you could survive in a lavish bedroom in the middle of god no’s where until-

Oh right. There weren’t coming.

“It truly bothers me that you feel the need to isolate yourself in that room.” Safin. Instead of sounding condescending, he seemed genuine and even beseeching. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink.”

“I’m fine, thank you though.” You coldy reply, seeing it as a facade. Safin was an anarchist, insane and cruel. “You’re a solid actor though, I’ll give you that.”

Safin sighs but doesn’t give in to anger or defeat. “For what I did to you, you have every right to upset at me. I’m upset at myself. I’m sorry for scaring you into isolation, my dear. It was not my intention.”

You refuse to respond, crossing your arms as you hear him let out a loud sigh. Safin looks at the nearest object to throw in frustration but stops himself for her.

“Y/n, I need you to understand that under no circumstance, that I will ever hurt you. You are a resident, not a prisoner. I want to show you my..” He freezes. It’s not a home, it’s a lair. But for y/n’s sake, it was there home. “I mean, our home. It will be short, and I will get you something to eat. After that, I will not bother you if you accompany me for just one hour.”

Two sides of you were battling with each other. The younger and more stubborn part of you wants to say a snarky remark and tell him to kindly fuck off. But the wiser and more calm side of you says that your starving and need to get out. You don’t sympathize with his actions and hate him more than anything in the world. The man threatened to hurt your friends and family if you didn’t obey his commands. But If he was going to hurt you, then why hasn’t he killed you yet? What was the point of keeping you there, knowing that you could possibly kill him with anything? Safin has stalked your whole life, from your clothing sizes to your military history.

You freeze as your fingers fiddle with each other. Letting the villain win always bothered you. But he offered you food and freedom for an hour. He had better kept to his promise. Looking at the door, you break the silence. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

He responds, “Take your time.”

Walking over the closet, you look at the outfits organized by monotone colors. Everything seemed the same as you searched for something that wasn’t oversized on you. Eventually, you came down to wearing a black turtleneck, light grayish blue kimono jacket, and olive peg pants with black boots. The clothes were oddly comfortable and looked more expensive than your shitty flat. You hated wearing tight and revealing clothes, so it was doable. Looking in the mirror before you leave, you see your eyes. They’re tired from crying and sleepless nights. Your body had no energy as your stomach rumbled and throat thirsted for water. The last person you wanted to see was Safin, but you truly had no choice.

Opening the door, you see him standing in front of it with a straight posture and hands behind his back. A subtle smile appeared on his face, seeing you walk out.

“You look lovely, y/n.” He compliments as you walk side by side. He thought you could pull anything off and still looking amazing. You looked at him and nod, a silent response of “thank you”.

As you walk down the hallway, Safin noticed y/n limping more than walking. He made sure Serrano and his men had there asses yelled at. They had done everything they weren’t supposed to do; treat you like an animal, hurt, and embarrass her. No wonder y/n hated him, he thought she was going to be a prisoner or some toy for Safin to fiddle around with. As much as Safin yearned for her beauty, he saw her talent and intelligence. She would be useful in many ways.

In an attempt to be a gentleman, he held his arm out for her for support. Y/n, being the woman she was, silently and polarity declined this offer. Safin found it darling that she was so stubborn, refusing the help of others even if she needed it. Seeing you limp and silently groan made Safin’s stone cold heart drop. He wouldn’t be a gentleman if he didn’t help this sweet, little y/n. In a devilish move, Safin tucked his arm under her hand, linking them both. Her clutched fist dangled in his tight hold, wanting to resist. Seeing her [y/s/c] burn up, Safin softly smiled at her. She eventually gave him as her fist unclenched, softly leaning onto him.

The hallways were long and large, lit by hidden lights. From what you could tell, it seemed like an abandoned Russian military site that had been reconstructed by Safin. It was all concrete and void of any color or life. The Architecture was Raw, brutalist, extraordinary. Taking you up a dark hallway, Safin showed you a bright hallway, full of mustard yellow art. Leading you under a dark tunnel, it revealed a large, empty room. In the middle of the room was a large low black table with cushions, and that was it. On the sides were rock gardens full of shrubs and bamboo. You could hear a running river disconnect the gardens from the concrete gray floor. A few guards stared at you for linking arms with Safin. Seeing them whisper made you look down. Safin had noticed and looked at the men, who had fear in there eyes as they stood straight.

Safin explained that his room was where he and Serrano (or other co-workers in his words) would discuss their ordeals. He saw the light in y/n’s slowly disappear, seeing her thoughts run to something else. There wasn’t really much to show considering that Safin was the only man who inhabited the submarine pen. The soldiers and Serrano resided on another part of the island. He didn’t want to bore y/n but wanted to make sure she was adjusted with her new home.

“Are you enjoying everything, my dear?” He asked, Y/n looked up and nodded in response. She looked exhausted and upset, trying to hide it. Her once glowy [y/s/c] skin was turning lifeless and grey. Safin could see that you were miserable and depressed. He knew being trapped in the submarine pen wasn’t ideal, he had been doing it for years and was ever so alone. Having the company of a woman was something he desired more than anything. Over the years his man had brought him women, but they refused to lay with because of his scars. Safin hated seeing the once joyful and bright light he saw in you.

No words came out of your mouth. You once again nod in response, forcing a faked and sad smile. Safin heart breaks seeing you so silent and upset. His grasp tightens on your arm, to squeeze some reassurance into your dying soul.

“My dear, please speak to me.” He gently cooed, looking into her [y/e/c] orbs.

“I’m fine, just please continue…” You sigh in frustration.

Not knowing what to say, Safin simply continues. It had been years since he had touched or even been close to a woman. Having you here with him was a dream come true. He hated having you sleep all by yourself that was in the opposite quarters of him. All he could imagine was y/n’s soft cries into her pillow from giving up on life. He knew what would hopefully cheer you up. Walking up a spiral staircase, Safin opened the door for you to exit. Upon exiting, you were greeted with a beautiful view. Safin allowed you to walk to the edge to admire the breathtaking view. Not one cloud was in the bright, blue sky. The top of the submarine pen was covered in the island’s rich plants. You truly were in the middle of nowhere, you could have been in the Medaterrian or off the coast of Africa. The Island was so beautiful on the outside, yet so depressing and ugly on the inside. The sun shined onto your skin as you felt the gentle breeze through your hair.

You stand on the edge, seeing that the only island in the distance was you. You were surrounded by miles of water, along with the world’s most feared Anarchist. “It’s so..”

“Breathtaking.” He breathed, standing right behind you. You turn around, somewhat scared by how close he was. Your [y/e/c] met with his milky orbs. His face was grey and dark, his sleek black hair, and dark navy clothes were so dark except for his eyes. He had an usual and exotic face. But his eyes were beautiful and mesmerizing. “Just like you, my dear.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. What had been a nice moment turned into Safin trying to subtly flirt, or so that’s what you thought. “Can you please call me y/n?”

A small frown appeared on Safin’s arms. He’s confused about why you don’t enjoy his attention. “Why not, my sweet?”

“Because I’m not your partner,” You clarify. The way those words rolled over his lips made you squirm and your cheeks burn.

“Whatever you say, my little dove.” He smiles, holding you close. A disgusted “ugh” escapes from your mouth. The time you had outside makes you feel somewhat better. Feeling the sun and wind against your skin felt so normal in your little fucked up world.

Safin tried to pull you closer to him, but you pull away. Even if he was trying to be a “gentlemen’, he was still an anarchist who wanted to kill millions and overthrow the government. All you knew was that you weren’t going to fall in love with him, ever. You shrug him off, looking away from him.

“How did you find this place?” You ask to break the silence.

“Me and Serrano discovered this place when I had left Spectre,” He explains, looking around the gardens before back at y/n. “It was an abandoned communist Submarine Pen. Nobody inhabited it, so I simply took it as my own. I was based in Okinawa before I denounced, so I took slight inspiration from the gardens.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Denounced Spectre?”

“One of my targets resurfaced, a young woman. A woman who I spared...who I loved,” Safin stated, “I had let them go and let them live a comfortable life. She promised herself to me, but loved another man...and birthed his child when she was mine. Spectre wanted her alive, I wanted her and her whole family dead. When they didn’t let me kill all of them, I killed every agent I could. All of them.”

Chills had been sent down your spine. When Safin didn’t get his way, he used violence. You never knew Spectre’s downfall, but all along it had been his man. No wonder Bond was able to take them down; it was all because Safin had practically murdered half of them in a rage since he couldn’t kill his ex-lover’s family. Your thoughts began to race. If you didn’t do as Safin pleased, would he truly kill you? Who could have ever loved someone such as Safin? Too many questions came to your mind.

  “So, that’s what you do.” You noted, raising your eyebrows. “Kidnap women and force them to fall in love with you?”

Safin’s face scrunches up with anger, “No, she was different. She was a whore. I never hurt her. I spoiled her and loved her. She betrayed me. But you...” He looks at you with his expressions softening. “Are different. Out of all the women I have encountered, you y/n...are different.”

“That’s all you men come up?” You snort, staring right into his eyes. “Say that were different and then only use us for our bodies? You’re different, Safin. If you don’t get what you please, you act out. You use violence and kill.”

Safin looked at y/n, seeing the smirk on her face. She knew how obsessed he was with her, the anarchist obsessed with the cyrptographer. Safin had no intention of killing you and couldn’t bring himself to kill the woman he was madly in love with. Instead of becoming upset, he saw through you. All y/n was doing was poking the bear, refusing to give into Safin. Safin knew her antics all too well.

“Your hands are not clean either, y/n,” He debated. “Three hundred and thirteen men is a large kill count for such a young woman…”

In your short time in the military, you had achieved one of the highest kill counts in your ranking. Everyone knew you as the girl who never missed. From surviving alone in Serbia and crawling out of building rubble in Iraq, you were respected and feared. But that had been in the past when you still were young and had sanity. Now you were older, wiser, and even more broken. The military had changed your life drastically.

Safin truly knew how to dig under your skin and make you upset. He wanted to see you weak and feel stronger. You refused to let him. A small voice in your head kept telling you, “ Don't play his game. Play yours.”

 “ Safin, you’re the most accomplished stalker I’ve ever met” You chuckle. He’s oddly smiling like nothing was wrong.

“A beautiful bird cannot freely fly in a cage.” The anarchist response, a small smile on his face.  He relinked your arms as you walked back inside of the submarine pen.

Safin saw y/n, once acting up again. Seeing her make small “hmphs” and look away softly made Safin chuckle. He kept telling himself that with time, she would fall in love with him. Y/n was a young and stubborn woman who didn’t go down without a fight. Once Safin had her, he wasn’t going to let her go. Y/n was all Safin’s now. All the anarchist ever desired was to have company in his lonely lair. Not only someone to love but someone he could talk to and even work with. Y/n was the woman of his dreams who he had yearned for. She had to fall in love with him. She didn’t have another choice.

Safin let her slide away but still kept their arms linked. A part of him wanted to carry her to there next location, but he knew that she would probably punch him. In his spare time, Safin spent hours preparing the submarine pen for Y/n’s arrival. The bedroom was designed to fulfill her needs, but that wasn’t the only place that was meant for her.

“Close your eyes,” He says as you arrive at a large door.

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, immediately protesting. “Your going to trap me in a room where I cannot escape, aren’t you?”

“You are a guest, not a prisoner.” Safin reminded. You roll your eyes, deciding to go alone. Closing your eyes, Safin’s opens the door and leads you in. Taking small steps into the room, you can bear water running and birds chirping. A light that wasn’t artificial was projecting onto your skin. Opening your eyes, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

You were inside of a large glass atrium that had an open ceiling, showing the sun and cherry blossom tears. Their sakura petals fell into the garden, a few landing on your clothes and hair. Like all of the other gardens in the submarine pen, it was inspired after a Japanese Zen Garden but with color. There were Cherries, Bamboo, Camellias, Lavender, and a range of other flowers. Out of all of the places in your cold and unwelcoming home, this place had shined the brightest. It brought a true smile onto your face. Letting go of Safin, you walk down into the shrubs and are greeted with a small pond and a chabudai with a teapot and two cups.

“Would you like to have some tea?” Safin offers. You turn around and nod, a smile still on his face. Your not smiling at him, but the beauty of the garden. Before, the flat you had lived in was too small to host a garden (you also lived in the heart of Chelsea). As a substitute, your garden was a bunch of homemade terrariums and flowers. It felt like ethereal heaven.

The two of you sit down in the garden. Safin loves to see you so memorized with all of the plants. He had been in your apartment a few times when you weren’t there. He didn’t know how you managed to live in such a contained space. He had noticed all of the flowers and candles you had kept around and tried to replicate it best. He wasn’t doing something for himself, but his y/n.

“ Your smile is like the flowers in the spring.” He compliments. You look at him as you admire the diverse range of flowers that surround you. “It’s divine.”

“Oh..” You say as you feel your cheeks burn. This man was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. Safin went from kidnapping you to giving you a beautiful garden, along with subtle flirting. You weren’t really into dating much and never were hit on, even if you were a young woman. “Um, thank you..?”

He pours you a cup of Chai tea, and the two of you sit there, drinking in silence. Safin refuses to take his eyes off of you, admiring your every breath you take. Seeing you look at the flowers, fiddle with the cup, and small strands of hair fall into your face as you push them behind your ear. Everything about you was so magical to Safin. No matter what, Safin was going to make y/n fall in love with him. The two of you had enjoyed your tea in peace. Out of all of the madness, being in the gardens brought you peace.

Safin had let you enjoy the moment until he asked the question that he had been pondering about. “Do you love me?”

You nearly spit your tea out. Safin had been subtly flirting with you, but hearing him say the world love made you nearly choke. His face looked surprised, waiting for an answer. You had barely been around this man for a week, and he was already claiming he loved then. Then again, he did stalk you.

“I..um..no?” You spit, furrowing your thick eyebrows. The question had caught you completely off-guard.

Safin smiles, nodding at the response. Although upset at your answer, he knows that you will eventually have to give into him. Safin always got what he wanted, no matter the cost. “Fair enough, you will come around with time.”

The younger and more stubborn part of you would have loved to throw the tea into his hideous face and beat him. But it wasn’t so simple. Safin was a dangerous and mysterious man. The reason Europe was probably going to go into a civil war was because of him. M16 was probably going to have it’s a downfall because his blood became tainted on your hands. Not only were your friends were at risk, but so was your family. Safin had made a threat that if you didn’t comply, then he would...hurt them for you to love you. You couldn’t love a man that would hurt your family and drag them into your mess.

So you did the selfless act. You, a young woman, sacrificed yourself to Safin so your family could be safe from him. You would comply but at a price. No matter the cost, you wouldn’t give Safin exactly what he wanted.

Y/n was giving him the silent treatment again. Her face scrunched up as she looked away, annoyed.

“More like a thousand years.”

“Listen to me, my dear. I will strike a deal. Every night, I will ask you at dinner if you love me. Tell me no as much as you want. I don’t care how long it takes for you to come to your senses.” Safin proposes his plan. He sees y/n’s sudden interest with his “idea.”

“And when I do?”

“The next day will be your wedding day.”

Your jaw almost drops to the ground. Safin was an insane man; you already knew that. He was delusional enough to think that you were going to love him, but marry? That was a whole other level.

“You told Q in Athens you wanted to fall in love before you married, so I have given you however long you need.” He reassures. “But I know it will happen.”

You look at him with pure hate in your eyes. Words could barely process in your mind. You clench your teacup so tightly that you don’t even care if it begins to burn your palms. Safin had a smile on his face. He stood up and walked over to you, helping you up.

“I can get up myself, thank you very much,” You grumble as you walk ahead of him. Safin catches up and walks right beside you, seeing your anger. He pulls you closer than he did last time, tightly holding onto you. He knew that you weren’t going to protest if your family and friends were on the line. As you walk back to the bedroom, you feel relieved since being with Safin is emotionally exhausting. You mentally declare that he is one of the most insane men you had ever come across.

He stops in front of the door. A pissy “goodbye” leaves your mouth before Safin takes your hand, spinning you around. Your faces are even closer now. He smells like an expensive cologne with his haunting, big green eyes. The scars on his face aren’t burns, but horrid cuts that mutated his whole face. His hands were cold and rough from all of the scars. Safin doesn’t speak at all and just looks at your face in a creepy manner.

You feel his fingers brush against your skin as he puts a camellia behind your hair.  Safin backs away, a smile on his face as he adores you. Out of all of the gloom in his life, y/n was ever so bright. She had been caught off guard when he placed the flower in her hair. His beautiful bride to be.

“I thought it would go well with your hair,’ He purrs as his fingers stroke it. “Anything would look lovely on you.”

Holding back at eye-roll, a soft sigh escapes your lips. “Thanks…”

“I hope you enjoyed our time together. The garden is for you and only you. Feel free to wander as you please. After all, this is our home now.” He slowly backs away, seeing your eyes watch him disappear down the fall. “I will be pack to pick you up for dinner at seven. Goodbye, my sweet y/n.”

Once he disappeared, you retreat back to your room and slam the door. You see yourself in the mirror with a bright flower in your hair. The hair you had combed had been touched by Safin, making you cringe. As much as you hated him, this new place was your home. This would be your life from now on, whether you liked it or not. Your family and friends’ lives were on the line. It wasn’t such a horrible life. The submarine pen was void of all life but lavish. If being in love with Safin meant your mother and sister would be safe, then so it be. You couldn’t believe you, a simple cryptographer, was the Anarchist’s, true love. Sighing in the mirror, you ask yourself a question that will never be answered.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

[an-unknown-writers-world]

Late Night Tea

Warnings: Cheesy AF, poorly written smut; First attempt writing Loki.

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Characters: Loki, Reader (First Person, nameless), mentions of Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanoff,

Word Count: 1908

A/N: Please be gentle, it’s 4:30am, this is unedited and the first thing I’ve been able to write since December. Takes places sometime after CA: The Winter Soldier and before Thor: Ragnarök.

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I sat in front of the fireplace with my feet tucked under me in the chair, a hot teacup held between my hands. The calming smell of cinnamon and ginger was almost overwhelming until the warm fluid reached my taste buds – the perfect melody to help soothe me. The lights were dimmed and the only noise I heard was the crackling of the fire. It had been a rough day, tempers flared, and mistrust ensued.

The compound had been in shambles for the last five days; ever since the Bifrost opened and dropped Loki on the grounds. Steve and Natasha were both adamant that he be watched constantly, claiming that it be some kind of trick that he was here. The escapades I’d been told about happened long before my time with the Avengers, but I gathered enough to know that their concerns were valid.

I heard faint footsteps descending the stairs, they were too light to be Steve and too heavy to be Natasha’s; that left only Loki.  

Turning my head, I smiled to greet him as he entered the room.

“Good evening, ma’am,” He greeted with a smile.

“Hello, would you like some tea?” I asked standing up.

“That would be nice, yes, thank you.”

“Chai alright?” I asked making it to the stovetop.

He nodded, “Is that what you’ve been making me?”

I laughed softly, “Yes, that’s my evening drink.”

Moving around the kitchen, I pulled another teacup out and grabbed teabags and sugar. It had only been a few days and I already knew how he took his tea. I was usually the last one to bed and in Loki’s attempts to ease the tension in the house he normally only came to the common room late in the evening. Needless to say, we had spent a lot of time together.

Loki pulled his cup across the counter and began to fiddle with the teabag. “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” He spoke softly.

“Not at all,” I leaned against the counter.

“How does a sweet girl like you, get mixed into all of this?” He gestured around the house.

I sighed, “The short answer is that I was mixed up with the wrong people, I guess. The company I worked for turned out to be corrupt. I was just lucky enough to have become friends with Natasha while we were on the inside together. She and Steve took me in after everything.”

The tea kettle blew. Instinctively, I pulled the kettle and filled both cups. My mind thinking back to the dreadful day in Washington DC. The whole world was shaken and crumbled around me. I slid his cup back across him.

“Everything felt so meaningless after that day. I had no one left to fight for. It left me feeling empty and bitter,” I sighed, pulling myself back to reality. “From what I understand you suffered a loss that left you with some similar feelings.”

He shook his head before drinking his tea, “Grief is a fickle thing. It can make one do awful things.”

“And those things should be forgiven.”

“Why are you doing that?” He asked.

“Doing what?” I questioned.

“Treating me like a person.”

“Because you are,” I shrugged. “You shouldn’t be demonized for eternity because of a mistake.”

I held the teacup tightly in my hands and brought it close to my chest. My body felt cold all the way through my core. Loki looked between his teacup and my face, his expression hard to read; flashes of confusion, frustration, pain, and even relief all appeared.

My opinion of his forgiveness was not a popular one. It was the topic that started the anger and hostility this morning. He wasn’t a saint and by the standard of those around us, he would never be able to atone for the things he did.

A shiver escaped my body.

“You’re cold,” He observed.

“I’m okay,” I replied.

“Come,” He stood, “Let’s sit by the fire.”

I didn’t try to object, it was pointless. I was cold though I didn’t know why. The temperature hadn’t changed much if any. But goosebumps had wrecked my skin and my bones almost ached. I looked at the clock on the stove before walking away; it was hard to believe it was already four in the morning.  

Putting my cup on the hearth, I sat on the ground directly in front of the fire. He did the same but grabbed the blanket from the couch before he sat down. In a sweet gesture, he draped it over my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I said softly when he sat down.

He smiled back at me; it was a breathtaking sight. When he truly smiled his eyes crinkled and dimples appeared in both of his cheeks. Beautiful blue eyes looked back at me, pulling me into a comfortable silence.

“I’ve enjoyed these last few nights drinking tea with you,” He said staring into the fire. “I feel as if I’ve always known you.”

“Me too,” I drank my tea letting the heat warm me from the inside. “Nights are quiet around here; it’s been nice to not spend them alone.”

“Well, I didn’t think we were to the point of spending the night,” He joked.

I couldn’t stifle the laugh that escaped, “Jokes, it’s four am and you have jokes.”

He smiled again, clearly proud of himself.

The room settled around us again, the fire crackling and in need of a new log. The embers still giving off satisfyingly high heat. Another shiver escaped my body.

He put his teacup down and took the fire poker to push the coals around before hanging the stick back on the hook. In one fluid effortless motion, another small log was placed on the fire.

“Come here,” He said

I looked at him questioningly, unsure if this was a good idea. Setting my own teacup down, I scooted closer to him. He took the blanket from my shoulders and unfolded it, stretching it over both of us. Reaching out his arm he pulled the small lap blanket from the chair on the side of him and draped it over our shoulders; his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me closer to him.

I sighed contently.

“Better?” He asked.

“Much,” I agreed.

The fire roared with the occasional pop or snap. It had been a long time since I had felt this comfortable. An obnoxious voice in my head said run, really it was Ted Mosby’s voice saying, ‘nothing good happens after 2am’. I ignored it; this was exactly where I wanted to be. Although, I don’t think I knew where I wanted to be until now.

His fingertips slowly moved up and down my side, a soothing and distracting movement. I reached for his unoccupied hand with my own, intertwining our fingers. Casually he brought our tangled fingers to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. He was sweet and charming, and it became increasingly easier to understand how he got away with so much.

I felt a soft kiss to the top of my head.

Turning to look at him, I recognized the look in his eyes. An emotional reflection of my own; solace and unadulterated lust. Without a second thought, I closed the space between us pressing my lips to his. His lips were smooth and warm against my own.

I broke it and pulled away, “I’m sorry.” I whispered. “That was wrong, I shouldn’t have done that.”

He was quiet for a moment, my mind raced with thoughts. I wanted so badly to believe that this was not me, not my desires or actions. But I knew that of all his many gifts, manipulating emotions and thoughts were not something Loki could do without his scepter.

“There’s nothing wrong with what was done,” He finally spoke. “Unless this is something you don’t want.”

Shaking my head, I looked up at him my hands resting on his abdomen. “I do though.”

Not another word was spoken. He kissed my jawline softly and slowly moving down my neck until he got to the crook of my shoulder. His hands found the hem of my shirt and quickly pulled it off. In the seconds after, I had his shirt off and piled along with my own. My fingers laced through the soft hair at the base of his neck, laying back I pulled him with me. His lips found mine again; I could taste the warm cinnamon of his tea as his tongue slid across my bottom lip begging for entrance.

The cold I had felt the last hour had dissipated and I finally knew what drove it. The need to feel someone else’s heat, breath in someone else’s scent and know simply that someone was there.

His weight supported on his forearms as he hovered over me, breaking the kiss, working his wet kisses down my chest, between the valley of my breasts. Stopping to take time to suckle each of my nipples while he pulled my sleep shorts off.

I suddenly felt exposed, laying completely naked in front of a man I had only truly know a few days. Not to mention on the living room floor of the compound I shared with my friends who had been hurt by this man. All my scars exposed.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispered crashing his lips to mine.

All my worries melted away.

I could feel his impossibly hard erection when I wrapped my legs around his waist. Moaning into the kiss, I needed friction of some kind. I needed him.

“Loki,” I breathed, breaking the kiss.

His lips found my neck again.

“Fuck me,” I murmured in his ear.

He pulled back with a torn look on his face, “you’re sure you want this?” He asked again.

I nodded, “I need you, need this.”

That was all the permission he needed. Pushing down his sweatpants he sprung free, a few quick pumps in his own hand and he was lined up at my entrance. He was slow at first, my breath hitched when he was fully sheathed.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I shook my head and pulled him back to kiss me.

He pulled almost completely out before slowly, painfully slow pushing back in. My walls stretching to accommodate his large size. His pace quickened, my hands sprawled across his back, digging in with each thrust. The coil in my core winding tighter and tighter, heat pooling, and soft moans escaped my lips.

Passion, hunger, and need propelled both of us. Ragged breaths and moans of ecstasy echoed through the room.

“Let go,” He moaned in my ear.  

His name escaped my moaning lips like a silent prayer as my walls shuttered and gripped him tighter as hot seed coated them. The feeling of his cum filling me was all I needed for the coil to snap. Ecstasy rocking me from the tips of my toes throughout my whole body. We rode it out together, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same air.  

Rolling to his side, he pulled out. Pulling me into his side, he laid the blanket over us. My head laid on his shoulder looking into his blue eyes. He looked at me. His hair still a mess, and in the new morning sunlight, he looked more handsome and more human than I’d ever seen him.

[banshee1013]

Suptober Day 10 - Sweet Rides

OMG I GOT ONE DONE ON TIME (well, sorta, HAHA).

I finally managed to keep myself to a pencil drawing only, still took me 4 hours but I’m pretty pleased with it.

Then I stayed up until 1:30am finishing the fic - which was supposed to be a FICLET - 2k later! Oops.

Anyway, here’s Day Ten! Now to figure out what to do for tomorr... uh, later today, haha.

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

Overall Title: The Road Less Traveled

Overall Rating: Mature (may change to Explicit, we’ll see how it goes)

Tags: Castiel/Dean, mention of Sam/Eileen, Post-Season 15, ExAngel!Cas, MostlyRetiredHunter!Dean, Road Trip

(Note: all ficlets are unbeta’d. At the end of the month, I’ll wrap up whatever I manage to get written, clean it up, get it beta’d, and post to AO3. So please pardon any mistakes!)

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

CHAPTER FIVE - SWEET RIDES

Words: 2026

Dean’s fingers drum a one-handed beat on the steering wheel, keeping time with John Bonham coming over the speakers. His other hand, resting on the bench seat next to him, is loosely entwined with Cas’. 

After their rainy weekend interlude at Rufus’ cabin, Cas has been extra hands-on; never out of contact with Dean in one way or another for very long - and Dean has zero complaints with this development.

Giving a quick squeeze, he disengages his hand from Cas’ and flips the turn signal, sliding over to the lane for I-5 North. 

Cas up to this point has been focused on the passing scenery with half-lidded eyes and soft smile, quiet and seemingly lost in thought. Dean had squeezed his hand a few times during the eight hour drive from the cabin, checking to see if he’d dropped off, but every time Cas had turned to him, returning the squeeze; the look in his eyes full of love and warmth, and Dean will do anything to keep Cas looking at him like that. 

This time, Cas turns to him, but his eyes are now full of curiosity. 

“I-5 North? I thought you wished to go south after we reached the west coast?”

“Thought we’d make a pit stop first.” Dean smirked to himself, recalling the conversation with Sam yesterday when he’d called to check in and found out they were headed to Seattle. 

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

“Seattle, huh? Helluva drive just to get some Starbucks!” Sam snorted, his voice echoing slightly with the speakerphone on so he can sign the conversation to Eileen.

“Haha, Sammy. No way am I getting Starbucks in Seattle - that’s like going to Italy and getting McDonalds.” Dean paused, glancing over his shoulder toward the bedroom, the Cas-shaped blanket-covered lump in the bed still unmoving, and silently cursed himself for not setting his phone on silent. 

He desperately wanted to be back in there with him.

“So, everything alright? I gotta go, things to do.” More like someONE to do…

Sam did not sound convinced but didn’t push the issue. “Nah, all good here. Eileen and I are back at the bunker and just wanted to make sure you didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere.” Sam chuckles at his own joke, then continues, “Hey, I know where you should go… y’know, when you get to Seattle.” 

Dean sighs - now that he knows nothing is wrong, he’s tempted feign a bad connection and hang up - but he’s genuinely curious to find out what Sam is going to suggest. “Yeah? Do tell.”

“You should get some Dick’s.”

“Hahaha very funny, “ Dean growls, and moves to hang up when Sam yells, “Wait, WAIT!”

“WHAT?” Dean grimaces at the volume of his voice and glances over at his shoulder again. Cas stirs and rolls over but doesn’t wake. “What?” he says again, quieter.

“I mean, you should go eat a Dick’s.” Sam giggles, and Dean hears Eileen's soft laugh in the background.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m outta here.” Dean pulls the phone back from his ear once again and starts to hang up when he hears Eileen’s voice - “Dean, wait!” 

With a mighty sigh, he puts the phone back to his ear and hears a smack in the background; an open palm against muscle and cloth, followed by Eileen’s voice:  “Stop BEING a dick and tell him.” 

“Okay, okay. You guys are no fun.” Sam speaks into the phone again. “It’s a fast food place out there. ‘Best burgers in America’ according to Esquire Magazine.”

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

Cas’ brow pinches in confusion and it’s still the most adorable thing ever. “Pit stop? Why are we stopping for pits?” His eyes narrow. “Are they peach pits? Do you need to distill cyanide from them?”

Dean can’t help himself - he outright guffaws. “No, no cyanide, why would I… I mean, we’re making a detour, stopping somewhere here in Seattle before heading south.” 

“Ah, very well then.” Cas tilts his head. “Is it for coffee? I hear Starbucks is headquartered here, I suppose acquiring some from the original source might be interesting.” 

“NO Starbucks… seriously, why does everyone…,” Dean pauses, then carefully schools his face into a serious expression, “We’re going for Dick’s.” 

“EXCUSE ME?”

“BURGERS!” Dean manages to gasp out as he gets the laughter under control. “It’s a burger place Sam told me about. ‘The most life-changing burger joint in America’ or so Esquire Magazine would have you believe.” Turning to Cas, he arches an eyebrow. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

                                                ~~~ *** ~~~

“What the… Cas, I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

No, it wasn’t from the burgers - Dean hadn’t even gotten to those yet. He’s not even sure if they can. 

As they pulled into the parking area for Dick’s Drive-In, he had slammed on the brakes, Baby coming to a sudden stop with a squeal of rubber on pavement at the sight before him.

The parking lot was full - of Impalas.

Black 1967 Impalas to be exact. DOZENS of them, all in a row.

Some had their trunks open, the inside of the lids decorated with devil traps and wards. Others had green coolers nearby, identical to the one in his backseat. 

The squeal of tires had drawn the attention of the people gathered around, and one in particular waves and makes his way over to them.

“Oh shit, no no no…” Dean mutters, then quickly plasters on a wan smile as the guy approaches his window and leans on the sill. 

“Hey there, I”m Davis, President of the Seattle chapter of the Supernatural Haunted Impalas club.” Dean glanced down at the man’s outstretched hand, briefly considers peeling rubber out of the parking lot and reluctantly decides against it - the last thing they need is a APB out on them for decapitating a guy in full view of witnesses - and takes the guy’s hand. 

“hi, uh… De.. Daniel. I”m Daniel… uh, Dan, and this is… “ Releasing the guy’s… Davis’... hand, he turns to Cas, eyes wide and imploring. 

Thankfully, Cas gets it. “Calvin,” Cas says, taking Davis’ hand and giving it a solemn shake - up and down, twice, and a quick release - “You can call me Cal.” 

Davis blinks, then gives them a broad smile. “Nice to meet you boys. We’re all just parked over there, find a spot and come say hi!” He leans back, his smile widening. “Nice cosplay, by the way - Dean, I presume, and you must be Endverse Cas, am I right?” He throws fingerguns and a wink before turning to head back to the group.

“We should leave… yeah, we should definitely get the HELL OUTTA HERE…” Dean looks over his shoulder, trying to figure out the quickest way to bail on the situation; but just then, a loud rumble erupts from Cas’ stomach. 

“Dean…” Cas sighs. “I’m very hungry, and you promised me a life-changing burger.” He gestures at the group, many of whom are now actively watching them. “And they’ve already noticed us. We might as well go and order the burgers, and then make an excuse to leave.” He drops puppy-dog eyes to rival Sam’s, and Dean knows he has no recourse but to go through with the charade - at least long enough to get a burger.

“FINE. We’ll order the burgers, make nice with locals while they’re cookin’, and then get the hell outta Dodge.” 

Dean pulls into a spot at the end of the long line of Baby Wanna-Be’s. No sooner had they climbed out and closed the doors, a bubbly brunette bounces over to them. 

“Hey guys, you look great! And wow, your Baby is GORGEOUS! What’s her name?” She claps a hand over her mouth in dismay. “Oh, of course, I shouldn’t assume gender. What’s your Baby’s name?” 

Dean’s lips part but nothing comes out, at a loss for words - then, “Baby.” 

The bouncy brunette blinks, then nods, the smile returning. “Uh, great! Awesome!” She extends her hand. “I’m Brittany, and this is my girl, Gertrude,” indicating the Impala parked next to them. 

Dean has to admit - Gertrude is in great shape. “Hi, Brittany, I”m De… Dan.” He passes an admiring gaze over the car. “She’s beautiful.” 

Brittany blushes fiercely. “Thank you so much! She’s my pride and joy.” 

Dean can’t help but grin - he gets it. “I know how you feel.” He starts toward the car, his interest piqued now.

Cas grabs his elbow. “Dean… uh, DAN,” he stammers. “We should order our food first.” 

“Oh, right! Of course.” He turns back to Brittany. “Give us a moment? We’re starving.” 

Brittany nods like her head is on a swivel. “OH of course! We’re not going anyway, go feed your boyfriend!” She turns back to Gertrude and strikes up a conversation with another couple. 

They make their way to the order counter with no further distractions and order their food, both choosing the “Dick’s Deluxe” with fries and milkshakes, then wander over to the group of Impala owners. 

By the time their food is ready, Dean is genuinely surprised at how much fun he’s actually having - the Impala owners are friendly and really know their cars, the pride of ownership evident - and Dean can’t help but respect that. However, they of course are also just as fanatical about Chuck’s books, which Dean struggles to hide his discomfort with. 

As they head back to the counter to pick up their food, Dean turns to Cas. “I dunno about all this, Cas - they’re really into Chuck’s books and they have no idea what a tool he was.” His head drops with a sigh. “Should we tell them?” 

“No, Dean.” Cas looks back over his shoulder at the group, their laughter and happy voices carrying across the parking lot. “They’re happy; the books have brought them together, given them friendship - a family, even.”  He shakes his head. ‘Chuck used those words to manipulate you, but they have no power over you - over US - anymore. This way, they serve a good purpose.” 

Dean blinks - he hadn’t thought of it that way. Of course Cas is right. 

“Yeah... and look at all the sweet rides that came from them!” 

                                                ~~~ *** ~~~

They gather their food order and head back to say their goodbyes, but the group appear to be packing up anyway - trunks being closed and coolers returned to their backseats. 

Davis approaches them. “Hey guys… we’re about to head out, but we’re only going over to Golden Gardens Park to watch the sunset and hang out around the fire pits. You’re welcome to join.” He nudges Dean with his elbow. “The group’s really taken a shine to you,” he says with a bright grin, “and your Baby, of course.” 

Dean turns to Cas, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Whadda ya say, sweetheart? Our first sunset…” he shakes the bag of food in his other hand, “and dinner on the West Coast?” 

“I would love to, Dean.” Cas’ eyes are bright, his smile soft and warm and Dean really wants to kiss him right now, but… company.

“Adorable,” Davis says, hands clasped in delight. “I love how you two stay so in character.” 

                                                  ~~~ *** ~~~

The last rays of the sun slip behind the Olympic Mountains, but Dean is watching Cas watch the sunset. 

He’ll never get tired of the look of wonder on Cas’ face when he experiences new things. 

Or for that matter, the sounds he makes, either. Listening to him moan through that admittedly fantastic burger was downright pornographic. 

He places a hand on Cas’ fire-warmed cheek and turns him away from the dimming horizon.

Damn the company. He’s gonna kiss his boyfriend.

He tastes the salt from the fries, the sharp vinegar of the pickles, the rich savory flavor of the burger, the lingering sweetness of the milkshake. 

He tastes the unique flavor of Cas and relishes it. 

Cas threads his fingers into the hair at the back of Dean’s neck and tilts his head just so and oh, it’s so, so good. 

He hears a few giggles and more than a couple “awws” and pays them no mind. 

He’s way too busy thinking about a completely different type of sweet ride.

[artificialqueens]

Talk Me Down (Jankie) - Pippin

A/N: welcome to my writing resurrection, it’s been a long time x

Summary: Jan’s a nurse and she thinks her patient looks all too familiar

Word Count: 2839

Content Warning: mentions of physical assault, hospital setting

Title from Talk Me Down by Troye Sivan

feel free to say hi here x

***

Jan couldn’t help but let a small yawn out of her mouth as she checked her phone for the first time since the start of her shift.

No goodnight text from Jackie. Terrible girlfriend conduct.

12:30am on a Friday. Gross.

Just over 6 hours until Jan finished her fifth night shift in a row. She could feel the sleep-deprivation migraine coming on quickly, and before she knew it she felt a cup of water and two paracetamol being pushed into her hands.

“I know that face, sister,” Gigi laughed, taking a minute to sit next to Jan at the nurse’s station and indulge in the small quiet patch they’ve hit, “I have no idea how you still have the capacity to take on five in row, pretty sure I lost that superpower when Crys and I started living together. One can only handle so many days a week of their partner waking up at a normal time and doing normal person things.”

Jan let out a snort in an attempt to hold back her laughter, but she knew what Gigi was saying was true. She loved her job, but saying goodnight to Jackie as the sun rose began to take a toll on Jan after day three. The same could be said for Jackie who, as much as she was proud of Jan, wasn’t the biggest fan of living in the same house as her girlfriend but hardly seeing her. Jan was proud of the career she was beginning to build, but she also missed building her domestic life with Jackie. She missed the little things - waking up together, having breakfast together, going grocery shopping together. They both knew that this part of Jan’s career wouldn’t be forever, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Gigi and Jan had reached that point in the night where, for the first time during their shift, the emergency department had finally slowed down. Luckily for them, this meant that they had a spare two seconds to focus on something nearly as important as patient wellbeing — caffeine.

“Coffee run?” Jan proposed, watching as Gigi rubbed her temples and threw her head back.

“I can’t leave the floor, I’m the in-charge.” Gigi whined, logging into a computer and starting to type, “with great power comes great responsibility.”

“Abysmal,” Jan chuckled, “double shot latte?”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Gigi grunted in response, not taking her eyes off the patient flow sheet in front of her.

“That’s what they tell me,” Jan sing-songed, “call if you need me!”

In an attempt to keep herself awake, Jan made a mental list of everything she needed to do once she got home - laundry, groceries, sex, get her sleep pattern back to normal-human phase. She relished in the fact that she was about to have five days off; five uninterrupted days at home, sleeping while the sun was down, drinking coffee in the morning, being outside in the warm May sunshine with her favourite person in the world.

When Jan arrived back on the floor, two double shot coffees in hand, she could hear ambulance sirens outside. She picked up her pace, leaving the coffees next to Gigi’s computer before gowning up and stepping into a chaotic trauma room. She weaved her way through less experienced nurses, and made eye contact with Gigi, who was standing at the head of the gurney. Gigi was no stranger to advanced care and was never one to lose her cool on the floor, and yet she looked terrified. Jan always knew it was a dire situation when even Gigi looked overwhelmed. Gigi’s attention was quickly brought back to the nearly lifeless woman lying in front of her, and Jan grabbed a pair of gloves before tuning into the paramedics’ report.

Jan looked the patient up and down - she made note of the way the woman’s body was covered in marks, the way the blood seeped through her torn clothes, the way the bruising on her face made her unrecognisable. Jan didn’t catch all of the handover, she was too busy trying to maintain a patent airway, but certain parts of it were clearer than others. Hell’s Kitchen. Physical assault. Looks mid-to-late twenties. No ID. Jan could feel her heart beginning to pound in her chest as she took another long look at the woman in front of her and noticed the colour of her skin. Beneath the scratches, bruises and blood she could see that it was the same warm, tawny colour she had grown to love - and that’s when Jan felt her breath get caught in her throat.

“Does she have any belongings?” Jan cut off the paramedic talking to Gigi, “a wallet? A purse?” Jan’s anxiety was skyrocketing, and Gigi could feel it radiating off her. Jan’s mind was only focussed on one thing - Jackie, Jackie, Jackie. Jan was no longer thinking rationally, no longer thinking like a nurse - rather like a distressed family member. She studied the woman for a third time - she tried to remember what Jackie was wearing when she walked out the door that morning, if the gold hoops looped through the woman’s ears were the earrings she bought Jackie for Christmas, if the broken nose could possibly belong to her girlfriend. Gigi felt stuck between two worlds - and as much as she desperately wanted to help Jan, the patient in front of her needed her more.

“Step out, Jan. Go and ring Jackie, see if you can get hold of her. Don’t work yourself up for no reason.” Gigi spoke softly, trying not to make a bigger scene than the one Jan was unknowingly making. Jan didn’t acknowledge that Gigi had spoken to her, continuing to inspect the woman for some sort of identifying feature. A tattoo, a freckle - anything.

“Someone needs to take Jan out of the room, please,” no matter how much Gigi wanted to help Jan, she had a team to lead and work to do. Another nurse wrapped an arm around Jan’s waist, and Jan almost looked offended at being told to wait outside, “Jan, I’m sorry, but I need to be in here, and you aren’t in the right headspace to stay. Trauma room 4 is empty, I’ll come and see you when I get a chance.”

**

Jan paced silently in the empty trauma room, her anxiety brewing as yet another phone call to Jackie went through to voicemail. She didn’t know what else she could do, every attempt at contact had been unsuccessful - no one was answering her calls or returning her messages. Just as it felt like her head was about to explode, Jan heard the door to the room click shut and felt a warm hand squeeze her shoulder. Gigi.

“It’s not her,” Gigi’s tone was soft, and Jan felt the weight lift off her shoulders with the news, “too many tattoos.” Jan let out a shaky exhale, full of relief and newfound adrenaline.

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“I think so. Eventually. It’ll take a lot of plastics work,” Gigi hummed, taking out her disheveled bun and retying her raven hair into a high pony, “how are you?”

“Overwhelmed. Drained.” Jan’s response was short and simple, and even though Gigi knew there was more she wanted to say, she didn’t dare push her. Not tonight.

“This was always my biggest fear working in emergency; that someone I loved would come through the door. I was so scared. Just wanted to see something so I knew it wasn’t her. Fucking hell,” Jan sniffled quietly, brushing away a few stray tears, “guess we should get back out there.”

“You should go home. You need to make sure Jackie’s there. You aren’t in the right state of mind to go back on the floor, Jan. I’m telling you this as your in-charge, but more importantly as your friend. Take some time, enjoy your days off, and come back next week.” Jan opened her mouth in protest, somewhat offended that Gigi thought she was incapable of doing her job, but she realised that she was right. She was spent, exhausted even, and she was no longer capable of putting the needs of others before her own. Jan dug the toes of her sneakers into the floor and nodded wordlessly. Just as she was about to leave the room, she felt Gigi’s hand wrap around her wrist.

“Are you right to drive home?” Gigi’s voice was soft; warm and nurturing in Jan’s hour of need, “Crys can come and pick you up.” Jan nodded her head, she could feel her throat constricting in an attempt to hold back another wave of tears.

“Okay. Well, message me when you get home. I’ll call you later.” Gigi pulled Jan into a tight hug before they went their separate ways; and the last thing Jan saw before leaving the floor was Gigi’s shoulders relaxing as she finally got to take a sip of coffee.

**

For Jan, pulling into the parking lot of her building usually came with a sense of relief; it usually reminded her that she was one step closer to a glass of wine, a shower and her bed. But that relief never came. Despite everything that had happened that night, and no matter how much she was looking forward to the benefits of being home; being back nearly 5 hours earlier than she was supposed to made Jan feel uneasy. Her brain, no matter how much she tried to convince it everything was okay, was still in overdrive. She pulled the key from the ignition and rested her head on the steering wheel, once again trying to control her uneven breathing.

It took Jan the better part of 15 minutes to summon the courage and the energy to get out of the car and let herself inside. She waited, albeit impatiently, for the elevator to reach the lobby, and sent Gigi a text during the ascent to her floor. She unlocked the door to her apartment quietly and pushed the door open, letting go of the breath she didn’t know she was holding when she saw Jackie’s keys and purse on the dining table. Jan made a beeline for the bedroom, peaking through the open doorway and feeling the wave of relief finally wash over her when she heard Jackie sleeping soundly, the occasional snore slipping out of her mouth.

They were both home, they were both safe. Everything was okay.

Overcome with emotion, Jan couldn’t help but let the tears roll down her cheeks for the second time that night, quiet sobs filling the kitchen as Jan carefully cradled a freshly poured glass of wine in her hands.

However quiet Jan thought she was, it was evidently not quiet enough. Jan heard her name being called out softly, and she grimaced when the kitchen lights were turned on. Jackie leaned against the dining table, a confused look on her face, clad in just a baggy t-shirt and some black panties. Jan had never been more relieved to see Jackie in her life, leaving her glass on the counter as she walked towards Jackie and pulled the brunette into her arms. Jackie’s arms wrapped around Jan’s waist almost instinctively, pulling her even closer. There had been many times where Jan had come home overwhelmed, teary and distressed, sometimes it was a mix of all three - but she had never come home 5 and a half hours early. Jackie didn’t want to pry, knowing Jan preferred to not bring her work home with her; but she also knew that something big must have happened for Jan to have come home at 1:30 in the morning.

“A woman was brought in by ambulance tonight,” Jan beat Jackie to it, and Jackie felt relieved that she didn’t have to ask. She nodded quietly, so as to let Jan lead the conversation, “someone found her on the street, Jacks. She was assaulted beyond recognition. She looked like you.” Jan cried, and this time it was Jackie who pulled Jan into her arms, rubbing her back and whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

“Gigi wouldn’t let me stay in the room, you didn’t answer the phone - and I assumed the worst. Felt like a million years until Geege told me it wasn’t you. I was terrified.” Nothing more needed to be said. Jackie knew that this had always been Jan’s biggest fear; and that part of it just came to life. Jackie continued to rub Jan’s back in an attempt to soothe her, unsure of what else she could do for Jan in that moment. Jan was openly sobbing into Jackie’s chest, and it wasn’t long before she could feel Jan’s tears beginning to seep through her shirt.

“It’s so stupid,” Jan sniffled, her voice barely audible through the wet cotton beginning to stick to Jackie’s chest, “it wasn’t you, I don’t know why I’m still upset.”

“It’s not stupid, Jan,” Jackie assured her, continuing to rub circles into Jan’s back, “you’re only human. You’re allowed to feel things, you’d be a horrible nurse if you didn’t let yourself get emotional. What happened tonight could have happened to anyone. You’re exhausted, Jan. I’m safe. You’re safe. We’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” Jackie crooned, pressing soft kisses to Jan’s hairline, “I’m gonna take tomorrow off work. No work, just us.” Jan pulled her head from the comforts of Jackie’s sternum and looked up at her, eyes glassy and lips pushed into a pout.

“Jackie, don’t be ridicu-”

“I’m not,” Jackie chuckled as she pressed a kiss to Jan’s lips, “work will go on without me.” Jackie relished in the idea of having a three day weekend; and the fact that she got to spend all three days with Jan made it a little bit sweeter. Jan yawned quietly and nodded in defeat - the idea of the two of them having three days off together made her physically, mentally and emotionally relax, and she knew excitement would wash over her when the sun came up.

“Can we make pancakes?” Jan asked softly, looking up at Jackie and batting her lashes. Jackie yawned in response, her eyes starting to feel heavy with exhaustion.

“Of course,” Jackie nodded, “anything you want.”

Jackie took a minute to really look at Jan and noticed the way that the fatigue was starting to weigh her down. Purple bags were starting to develop under Jan’s eyes, which were reddened and beginning to sink back into her skull. As much as she knew that Jan working 12 hour shifts and living off crazy schedules wasn’t forever, Jackie wished that the blonde would be able to catch a break soon. Jackie took Jan’s hand in hers and pulled her towards their bedroom, turning the kitchen lights off on their way through. The pair found comfort in the darkness, just the soft glow of New York City lights peaking through the curtains.

Despite being adamant she could put herself into pyjamas, Jan found her arms being lifted above her head so Jackie could peel off Jan’s navy blue scrub top and replace it with an oversized t-shirt. Jan’s bra, sneakers and scrub pants soon joined her top on the floor, and before she knew it the soft purple comforter was being thrown over her body. Jan felt her muscles relax into the mattress, cocooned amongst the blankets and pillows. She pulled one arm out from the safety of the sheets, patting Jackie’s side of the mattress as if to coax Jackie to join her - not that she needed any convincing. Jackie was more than happy to climb back into bed, but she was even happier to have Jan there with her.

Comfortable silence filled the air as Jan repositioned herself so her back was flush against Jackie’s chest, Jackie’s arms wrapping around Jan’s waist like a reflex. Jackie inhaled deeply, catching the faint scent of Jan’s lavender shampoo and the remnants of her sugary perfume. For Jackie, being cuddled up in bed with her girlfriend for the first time in nearly a week, was home. The small, Hell’s Kitchen apartment Jackie used to live in by herself wasn’t just her house anymore - it was her and Jan’s home. And while it might have been overflowing with mismatched pieces of furniture and dying pot plants, every inch of space was full of love, and Jackie wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Thank you,” Jan whispered, pulling one of Jackie’s hands to her lips and pressing a faint kiss against it, “for everything. I couldn’t do this without you. I love you, so much.”

“I love you too,” Jackie replied, basking in the glow of Jan’s praise and nuzzling her head into the space between Jan’s shoulder and neck, “thank you for living life with me. I’d be a different person without you.”

The room was soon filled with Jan’s deep breaths and soft snores, with the promise of pancakes still lingering in the air. She was safe, Jackie was safe, they were home.

***

[harrystylescherry]

EARLY MORNING GLORY (Harry Styles Fanfic) Chapter 3

banner by hsogolden

What it is: a slow burn, friends to lovers, harry au where he’s just starting out and it takes place in NYC.

In this chapter: more friendship and maybe some flirting? ooooo

Word count: 2.5k

In case you missed it: PROLOGUE / CHAPTER ONE  / CHAPTER TWO (I’m currently putting together the master-list that will be linked here instead of all the chapters)

Wattpad Link: tumblr will never be FULLY caught up because I’m still uploading a new chapter to Wattpad every week so if you want to binge the whole thing so far, click that link!

Here we go:

who wins

I woke up to the sound of my alarm which was set to two o’clock; I had just enough time to get ready and eat dinner (or breakfast—my body clock has been destroyed) and maybe get some work done before heading to the shop.

I found out pretty quickly that the night shift didn’t really leave much room for a social life. I went to work around 7pm, got off at round 4:30am, a full eight hours brings me to 2pm—that’s five hours left to socialize. This new schedule was really messing with my norm and I wasn’t handling it very well. I felt like I hadn’t had much human contact since it began because my friends seemed to be getting off work when I was just starting and I was starting to feel slightly disconnected from everything around me. I was pretty irritable most of the time and my work was starting to suffer due to my bad attitude. I really couldn’t believe Ryan willingly worked this shift. 

Neither Harry or Niall had been in since a few nights ago and I still hadn’t called him. The idea of calling some guy I barely knew to come and keep me company in the middle of night just felt—weird. So I’ve spent the past few nights in almost silence, the fingers on keyboards and rustling of books the only sounds around me. I always brought headphones with me but never used them because I was irrationally worried about being the victim of a sneak attack.

I spent way too much time in the shower sulking under the burning water and once I got out, realized if I didn’t rush I was going to be embarrassingly late. I threw on a white t-shirt and my trusty black-straight leg jeans (just because I was working at night didn’t mean I couldn’t look cute doing it) and my blue fabric mules, making sure to grab a pair of socks to shove on later when these got uncomfortable. 

“I’m here!” I called while barreling through the door. 

“I see that.” Lily laughed. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?” 

“Considering the distance between here and my apartment, it might as well be.” I pulled my water from my bag and took a sip. 

“Honey, the day I see you run a marathon will be the day pigs fly.” 

I pouted, “I could run a marathon.”

She patted a hand on my back and completely ignored my defense, “We got a bunch of new books today, maybe you could read them?” I nodded my head ‘yes’. Brand new books were a rare occurrence in the shop and I definitely wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.

“Alright, well, I’ll be on my way. Don’t have too much fun without me.” 

“I could never!” I called to her as she walked out the door. I dropped my bag on the counter and made my way to the back of the shop and entered the small office. 

I had only been in there a few times before and I swear every time I went in the space grew smaller and smaller. I searched around the messy room for what seemed like forever before I saw the cardboard box underneath a pile of papers. Once I ripped it open and saw what was inside I wasn’t disappointed. I shuffled through the books, seeing names like King, Scottoline, and Anderson. These were definitely more contemporary works but I wasn’t complaining. It might actually be nice to read something from this century for once. 

I grabbed the first three novels on the top and went back to my desk. 

***

I had just finished my fourth book of the night, and it turned out to be a real tear-jerker. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand and yawned so big my bottom lip split. My eyes were sluggish and by the end of that book I felt like I was seeing double; they were tired and so was I. I remembered to pick up more coffee before my shift yesterday and was in need of a very large mug of it. I knew the machine needed a new filter so I made a quick detour to the office to grab new ones. When I finally located them underneath the small desk, I reached into my back pocket for my apartment key so I could tear open the package but my fingers met with something soft instead of the cool metal I thought was back there. 

I pulled out a piece of paper that had obviously gone through the wash once or twice. The ink of whatever was written on it was smudged but I was still able to make out the small numbers. 

It was the paper with Harry’s phone number. While I did think calling him for company was weird, I also hadn’t called him because I couldn’t remember where exactly I had put this piece of paper. I had sworn I put it in my purse, but it wasn’t there, nor was it in my tote, the pocket of my sweatshirt, or anywhere near or on the big desk at the front. I was sure I had lost it and I managed to convince myself that the real reason I hadn’t called him was because it was weird, even though if I had known where his number was, I probably would’ve called him by now. 

I held it between my thumb and forefinger and started at it; I tilted my head to the side and seriously weighed my options: I could call him and ask him to come by, explain to him that yes, I know it’s been over a week since he gave it to me but I lost it which sounded slightly rude, but better than not giving an explanation as to why I didn’t call; but would calling give the wrong idea—he was hot (probably out of my league) and I wouldn’t mind hooking up with him, but wouldn’t date him because I don’t do that; but doesn’t that sound rude? How do you tell someone you’re calling them because you’re down to fool around a little but nothing more without sounding like a lunatic? 

I was giving myself a headache so I stopped thinking and dialed his number.

  He answered on the fifth ring, “Ello?” 

“Uh, hi, Harry. It’s Auden, from the book shop.” 

“ Auden? Hey, what’s up?” His voice sounded rougher and huskier than it was in person and when I heard the rustling of what sounded like bed sheets, I knew I had woken him up.

“Working my shift at the shop, kind of bored. How about you?”

“Sleeping.” 

“Right. Yeah, that would make sense.” I said awkwardly into the phone. 

Harry let out a soft chuckle, “No offense, but it’s one o’clock in the morning, is there any reason in particular you’re calling?”

“Well, there was but I didn’t mean to wake you up; I don’t know why I even thought you would be up at this time,” I shook my head before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I was going to see you if you wanted to come down to the shop because it’s so boring here with just me and as much as I like the quiet, I can only go so long without going insane. But you were sleeping and I woke you up and I should’ve figured you would be because no one is really ever up this time except for insomniacs and so yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna ask you that anymore because-“

“Auden, you’re rambling.” Harry cut me off. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He didn’t even say good bye before he hung up. 

I let my head fall against the oak shelves in front of me, “Why did I do that? Why did I sound like that?” I kept replaying what I said in my head, and the way I said it, how rushed and unsure and insecure and nervous I sounded. I kept telling myself that it wasn’t a big deal because he was coming and so he obviously didn’t care that I woke him up or that I sounded like a babbling idiot on the phone—or that we’ve only met once and I was technically still a stranger. 

He didn’t even hesitate to come and keep me company and as much as I tried to fight off my own assumptions about what that could mean, my mind kept screaming that he could be interested in maybe messing around a little. I mean, I was never one to shy away from a hookup, no matter how random and this wouldn’t be completely random—I know him, sort of. A boy I’ve only spent a few hours with was getting out of bed at 1am to come and see me….I knew where this could go and I wasn’t going to fight it. 

It was around twenty minutes later that Harry walked into the shop carrying two cups of coffee and two brown paper bags. He was wearing a white long sleeve shirt, dark grey joggers and a dark blue beanie. He came over to where I was and set everything on the counter. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I moved the books I was reading onto the shelf behind me so the small space wasn’t so crowded. 

“I brought presents!” He opened one of the bags and dumped its contents onto the desk. Turns out it was filled with all kinds of gummy candies; he went to dump out the other but then stopped. “Wait, is this clean?” I nodded my head but took a paper towel and put it down just in case. He then dumped out the second bag which was filled with all different kinds of cookies and chocolates. Then he handed me the larger cup of coffee with a huge smile on his face. “Black.” 

“Where did you get all of this?”

“I got the coffee from that twenty-four hour diner a few blocks over along with the cookies and I stopped at CVS for the candy. I wasn’t planning on the coffee but they were open and I’ve never gone in before and was curious.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

He shrugged as if to say it was no big deal. We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes after he pulled two plush armchairs from different corners of the shop up to the front. We munch on the cookies and sipped the coffee, not really paying much attention to one another until he said, “You know, we never finished that game.” 

“What’s your favorite candy?” I started.

“Sour gummy worms.” He didn’t even hesitate.

I smile broke out of my face, “Mine too! I’ll give you a point for good taste.”

“What’s your favorite type of music and why?”

“I don’t think we’re ready for this kind of conversation.” I shook my head.

“Just answer the question.”

“You’re a musician! You’re going to trash what I say. Our friendship isn’t strong enough for this conversation yet.”

“Our friendship?” He smirked, “We’re friends? Thanks for letting me know.”

My cheeks turned pink and a floundered for a second to answer, “Well—I don’t know! What else would we be? Strangers? Forget it. Anyway, I really like alternative or, maybe, rock. I don’t really know why. I just always have. It’s like, theres something for every mood in those genres. When I listen to it sometimes I want to have a quiet night with some coffee and other times I want to smoke weed and sex. It’s a magically diverse kind of music, really.”

“Two points for good taste. We’re tied up now.”

“Wait,” I furrowed my eyebrows, “what do I get if I win?”

“I didn’t plan on there being any prizes.” Harry shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. 

“There has to be. It’s a game, a contest with a winner. Therefore, there must be a prize.”

“Fine,” he smiled, “if I win, we hangout for real; as in, somewhere other than this place.”

“Okay. If I win…” I trailed off trying to think of something good. I wanted to a lot more than a simple hangout; I had spent all of our time together so far sweeping my eyes all over his body: the way his tattoos showed through the thin material of his shirt, the necklaces he wore brushing against the hollow of his throat, the light scruff on his jaw and his eyes crinkle every time he smiled. If I was unsure about wanting him before he got here, I was sure of it now, but I couldn’t get a read on him. I couldn’t tell what he wanted and so I couldn’t reveal what I wanted in case I ruined what was looking to become a great friendship at the least. “If I win, you write me a song.”

“Deal.” He put his empty cup behind us on the desk, “Ask away.”

“Craziest drug you’ve ever tried.”

“Shrooms, definitely shrooms.” He shook his head and laughed, “That shit was wild…I bit off the tip of my tongue.” He stuck his tongue and I leaned in to get a better look. “I don’t recommend.”

“I’m giving you two points—only because I’m slightly impressed. I didn’t expect that from you at all.”

“Well, you don’t really know me yet.” I gave him a look that said he had a point and he continued, “What’s your favorite poem?”

I sighed, “That’s a loaded question and very difficult to answer, but one of my favorites is “A Night Piece” by Wordsworth which is odd because I’m usually not a huge Wordsworth fan.” The look on his face told me he had no idea what I was talking about and so I offered more explanation, “It’s basically just a poem about the night; it talks about the way the sky looks, the view of the world from the top of this mountain. It’s all so sublime, which is something I’m really into and the way that it talks about omnipresence in relation to the view like it couldn’t be anything other than an act of god is—“

“You’re talking too fast and I have no idea what you’re talking about but I’ll give you a point.” He cut me off.

I shook my head, “No, I want two!” I held up my hand before he could protest, “You didn’t even let me finish! You owe me a point for being rude.” He tried to protest but gave me my two in the end.

We were tied again and spent the next half hour trying to earn points off one another. We asked about favorite places to travel, favorite seasons, I asked about his family and he asked about my friends. We both had nine points and it was my turn to ask him a question. I had been wanting to ask this since he arrived but was too nervous to until now. 

“Why did you come tonight? You didn’t have to—no obligation—you don’t even know me. So why come?” I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest as I waited for him to answer. He didn’t look the least bit phased by what I had asked, almost like he had been expecting it at some point. 

“Because you’re someone I want to know.”

[loveisbraveandwild]

Hi! This is my “how i met taylor swift” story! i’ll never be able to express how much the privilege of being invited by taylor herself into her home to hear the lover album early, eat her rice krispy treats, and tell her i’m proud of her means to me, but here’s my attempt at least telling the story. it’s a long story so if you hate reading click here to watch the video i made about it!

At 5:30pm on July 21st, I was sitting in my bed on tumblr and a message pops up on my screen that says “Taylor Nation CONFIDENTIAL MESSAGE.” Me, not trusting anyone on this site, clicked it thinking it was fake there’s no frickin way i got the dm. I read the url and the message about four times until i finally sat up out of my bed and immediately text sam, my best friend in the whole world. she texts me back in all caps, as a real friend does, and then she facetimes me. I missed what she first said but i will never forget her saying “i got mine on twitter.” After talking to her on the phone, i finally reply to tn.

monday and tuesday go by and nothing happens. on wednesday at 2:54pm I text sam “tn forgot about us” then at 2:57 my long live ringtone started blaring and i pick up and this guy is like “is this grace ----” and im like yes and he says “this is x with taylor nation.” ive never jumped up and screeched louder in my life. he tells me our conversation is confidential, confirms where i’m from, and then asks me if i can go to rhode island. here’s my reaction to my phone call. 

on friday, whilst in target, having saved taylor nation’s number in my phone, i get another phone call from them. they tell me the original location has been leaked and ask me if i can get to nashville. i’ll never be able to emphasize how grateful and privileged i feel to not only be able to have gone to sessions but to be able to say yes without needing to confirm anything with my parents and to be able to change my plans, after having booked a flight to RI (don’t worry i got a full refund!)

the following saturday i woke up at 3::30am to catch a flight to nashville. sam and my flight got in 4 minutes apart from each other. the rest of the day is a story for another time but basically i freaked out because i met about 2 dozen other swifties that i’ve been friends with for a long time. i had lunch and dinner with them, we went to the taylor swift education center, and we hung out in the hotel together. the day ended with me meeting emma, someone who i hardly interacted with but admired so much because of her blog.  

sunday morning we woke up and freaked out and spent the morning trying to stomach food and getting ready. then we went to the hotel and got to the meet up spot at 3:15ish. there were so many people i knew there and it was the craziest experience ever. at 4 a woman from tn comes up and gets us and steals our phones, etc. an hour later they bring us out to the buses and that’s when i started to get really, really overwhelmed and start crying. i would have fallen to my knees if sam hadn’t caught me.

i’m the last person off the second bus and we round the corner and once again, i start crying. fast forward and we’re in line for food (which i did not eat) and i see these adorable little labels for the food that look like taylor’s handwriting, once again, sobbing. i turn to sam and say “she loves us so much.” even if she didn’t write those cards, someone took the time to sit down and hand write them and even the smallest act went the longest way for me. 

we get in line to enter the room and about 30 minutes later they open the doors. five minutes later she jumped out and says “hey guys!” she looked the exact same as she does on my computer screen, fake. her hair was perfect, she was tall (not as tall as i imagined though), smiling, beautiful, gorgeous, all the good things. she then tells us not to share anything that happens in this room and when taylor looks you in the eye and tells you to do something you do it. 

half way through we take a little break and sam and i are in line for the bathroom when i see people coming back in the session room i immediately tell sam to sit down and we do, not moving an inch. front. row. seats. two feet away from her chair is probably an overstatement. i don’t know how it happened but we were two frickin feet away from where she was sitting. she comes back and plays the rest of the album. 

then they take the minors first and then the ~adults alphabetically. my last name starts with a B but i still didn’t meet her until about 1:30am on august 5th. when they open the door and call me in i see her reflection and she’s like dancing? i look to my laugh and there she is, im crying writing this, like real tears. 

i want to keep most of our conversation private but she immediately said “Hi Gracie!” when i talked in. i heard stories than when you hug taylor swift she never lets go first, this is indeed true. i told her i loved her in her ear while we were hugging and she said it back. then she told me she knew a selfie i had posted but she had never liked and i freaked out. i told her i’m studying political science and gender studies and i want to run for office one day and she was so excited and proud of me. i thanked her for my first notice when she put me on her story and told her why my favorite taylor song is my favorite taylor song. we talked a little bit about the album and she told me she was proud of me twice and i told her i was proud of her twice. we took our picture and she let me make sure i liked it and the only thing i remember is seeing my smile and being like “thats it” because i looked had never smiled so big. 

the next day taylor posted a picture wearing the bracelet i gave her when told her i was bi and thanked her for her allyship and i just about passed out. i spent the day in nashville and got to open my picture at!!! the!! bluebird!! cafe!!! click here for some soft video content of it! 

this entire experience was a whirlwind from start to finish and i wouldnt change a second of it. taylor, on the off chance that you see this, and on the bigger off chance that you read this, thank you. being able to look you in the eyes and tell you how proud i am of you is something i’ve dreamt about since i was about ten years old. i never thought i would be able to do it. thank you for inviting me into one of your most intimate spaces, entrusting me with your art, and ranting about politics and gender studies with me. thank you for baking for me and for introducing me to my best friends. i wouldnt be nearly as confident, stable, happy, or supported without you and the people you’ve brought into my life. i love you so much! 

[losmonteslejanos]

What COVID-19 made me realize.

While I’m sitting here wondering whether or not I have COVID-19, I’m thinking about how much this global pandemic has made me realize. Like King Kylie once said, “I feel like this year is really about, just the year of realizing stuff.”

These are the 19 things I realized because of COVID-19:

1. It’s okay to be sad about things getting cancelled even if there are bigger things going on around us.

You can be sad about a cancelled trip or concert, or even about not being able to hang out with friends. It doesn’t make you selfish; it makes you human. It’s okay to be disappointed about cancelled plans you were looking forward to and avoiding those feelings will not make them go away.

2. While taking time to allow yourself to be upset about plans changing, still keep in mind that the pandemic affects all of us.

While I find it not only healthy, but necessary, to take time to process feelings about how COVID-19 had affected you personally, it’s important to remember that we are not the only being on earth. It’s important to thing about the bigger picture and how our actions affect others, and follow COVID-19 regulations to avoid further spread. It’s on all of us to fight to end this.

3. Just because we’re socially distancing, doesn’t mean you should isolate yourself from everyone completely.

Make time to socialize with other people. Whether that be a small hangout, a zoom party, or deciding to quarantine with family - there are safe ways to have human interaction that will keep you sane. Text or FaceTime your friends regularly. Call your older relatives. Get a pen pal. Do anything that will keep you sane and keep you safe. Two new ways I’ve interacted with others are: I became pen pals with an old friend from elementary school and I joined a book club.

4. Use this extra time to dedicate yourself to what really interests you.

All this down time has given me time to get back to what I enjoy. I’ve been reading a ton, which isn’t something I’ve done in quite some time. I’ve really enjoyed getting back into that, and into this blog. I had completely abandoned this project but these unprecedented times really did something to my creative juices. Really got them flowing. I’ve even talked with a friend about ~possibly~ starting a podcast, but we’ll see if that plays out. All this being said - you do not have to be productive during this time. I repeat, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE PRODUCTIVE DURING THIS TIME. I know it can be discouraging seeing so many people starting small businesses while you have “accomplished nothing,” but global pandemics are not one size fits all. We’re all doing our best. So if your best is binging ‘The Office’ for the tenth time, so be it.

5. Regular depression + seasonal depression + global pandemic depression is a match made in hell.

Depression sure has had some audacity this year, huh? As if it wasn’t bad enough, let’s add extra time alone with our thoughts. It’s been a scary time. I can’t even imagine what it’s been like for those who have it worse than me. I have a great support system that has pulled me through but others haven’t been so lucky. These past few months so alone with my thoughts got pretty dark at times. I not only got over my fear of dying, but wanted to die at times, not so much because I no longer wanted to live but because it felt too hard to live the way that I was. Help is out there if you need it. Therapy, in conjunction with medication, has helped immensely and I feel lucky to be here. My heart hurts for those who are not. We love you and we miss you.

6. Working from home is a blessing and a curse.

At first, working from home sounded like a dream. I didn’t have to get dressed up, I’d have no commute, and I’d be in my own space. Besides, it’d only be two weeks...a month tops, right? WRONG. The reality of working from home is that I haven’t worn real pants in months, I don’t get the social aspect of my job anymore, I work much more independently and I don’t know how to wake up before 8:30am anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’m lucky to still have a job. The problem is, I feel a lot less productive at home and fear the adjustment that’ll come when I eventually have to go back to the office. For me, that’s currently set for April 2021, but we’ll see if that gets pushed forward again.

7. We simply do not deserve dogs.

I’ve been working from home since March 16, 2020. That’s 270 days, but who’s counting? Luna, Ginger and Leo have been a God-send. They’re my new favorite coworkers, even though they fall asleep on the job almost everyday. Their constant affection makes everyday better and this all would’ve been so much worse without them. We’ve definitely created clingy monsters but, they’re CUTE, clingy monsters so it’s okay.

8. I really, really wish Madrina was alive.

While thinking of her being alive during a pandemic freaks me out because I’d be very afraid to expose her accidentally, thinking of all the quality time we could’ve spent together this past year makes me sad. I know one could go mad with what could’ve been but I really didn’t get to spend a lot of time with her the last couple of years of her life and I would’ve loved at least a couple of months of having her all to myself. She had definitely been heavily on my mind this year.

9. I do not like not being in control of things.

Surprise, surprise. I’m a control freak. If things don’t go my way, it is an ugly sight. And this year certainly did not go my way. The main thing that comes to mind is bringing Madrina home. Back when she passed in 2019, she was cremated. The plan was always to bring her ashes back to the US to be buried with her husband, but because we couldn’t get the paperwork done in time, she didn’t return on that trip. 2020 was the year to being her home. That did not happen. Cemeteries bring me peace. Visiting my loved ones is part of my healing. It’d be perfect, too, because Duli is buried in the same cemetery. I’d get to visit my two favorite ladies at the same time. But that hasn’t been a possibility yet. COVID-19 took that from me. While I know the plan will come to fruition eventually, and I’ll be able to lay her to rest at last, I’m not at peace because I have no control over when it’ll happen.

10. A lot of humans are, for lack of a better word, stupid.

I’m going to keep this one short and sweet. As if a virus that swept the globe didn’t show us how many dummies walk among us (haha see what I did there? Among us? It’s culturally relevant. I’m funny.), the election really said “hold my beer” and brought all the morons out to play. If you still thing COVID-19 is a hoax or that Trump won the election, please seek help.

11. People will really go to extreme measures to continue to be racist.

Parler became a popular thing this year. An online Ku Klux Klan platform, as far as I’m concerned. Not all cowards wear capes, I suppose. Ugh, disgusting. This made me really question humanity.

Also, PS. Blue lives don’t matter, because blue lives don’t exist. ACAB. BLACK LIVES MATTER. 

12. Flu season during a pandemic is scary.

Being sick at all this year has made me a paranoid mess. I’m sure with any cough, sneeze, or fever, we all assumed the worst. Like our minds automatically would jump to COVID-19 as the only possible cause for our symptoms. Not to mention how much worse the panic gets when getting tested is damn near impossible in New York City. I hope you all stay safe and stay smart.

13. Waiting for COVID-19 test results is scary. 

I’m sure we’ve all messed up a bit during the past nine months. Maybe we weren’t as careful as we should’ve been and found ourselves in a position where we felt that we needed to get tested. The waiting period to get your results can be terrifying, especially since your results don’t only affect you. It’s so contagious and unpredictable that a million scenarios run through your mind and you feel like you’ve played Russian Roulette with your health and the health of your loved ones. It is not a fun time. 0/10 do not recommend. 

14. Taking a break from the news is self-care.

I was glued to the TV when this all started back in March. I was certainly glued to the TV during election week. Since then, however, I’ve had to take a step back. Sometimes being super informed is too emotionally taxing. And that’s okay. You can stay safe and informed without getting an update every hour.

15. Getting rid of things is more therapeutic than I thought.

I’m someone who has a lot of emotional/sentimental clutter. I get very attached to physical things. I have a hard time letting go. I had decided to redo my room to give myself a change of scenery. My old room had begun to suffocate me. I felt trapped there. Since I was spending so much time and money redoing my room, I wanted to get rid of whatever no longer served a purpose or no longer brought me joy. I know, very ‘Marie Kondo’ of me. Starting seemed so intimidating. I stumbled upon the “minimalist game” on Youtube and I found my solution. The premise was to get rid of a certain amount of items each day in November. One item the first day, two items the second day, three items the third day, and so on. I thought it would get extremely difficult towards the end. Thirty items on day 30 seemed crazy. But I’m currently at 924 items on December 11th and the number keeps slowly rising. It’s okay to start small; it can snowball into something big. I feel lighter and having a number goal made the process a lot easier. I just gradually increased the end goal as I’ve gone on. I was able to donate five large garbage bags full of clothes that I had hoarded for years, clothes that held bad memories, clothes that didn’t fit me, clothes that made me feel like crap about myself. I’m sure you can all relate. GET RID OF IT.

16. 90 Day Fiance is actually quality television and you can’t change my mind.

Okay, reality television is trash. I know that. But this show really brings the drama. It’s entertaining as hell and if you disagree, you haven’t given it a fair chance. This shit is hilarious and gets you invested, whether you love or hate a couple. 90 Day Fiance is exactly what quarantine needed. I said what I said.

PS. Tim and Veronica are my favorites on Pillow Talk and I’d love to know yours.

17. Having someone to quarantine with is a blessing.

My heart goes out to all those who have gone through this year all alone, for one reason or another. I can’t imagine being completely alone with my thoughts AND no human contact. That’s scary to think about. I’m grateful for my companions through this, and pray for those who aren’t as lucky.

18. I love myself more than I give myself credit for. 

I might be the most self-deprecating person on the earth. The jokes just do not stop with me. And look, I might be my own worst enemy, but I’m also my biggest cheerleader. Doing a lot of self reflection, I’ve realized that while I don’t like everything about myself (who does?), I think I’m happy with who I am, and that was kind of shocking to come to terms with.

19. You do not have to find a silver lining in 2020.

This year has sucked. Bad. Plain and simple. We’ve lost way too many. There has been too much negligence. You don’t have to look on the bright side, even if good things happened for you throughout the year. Good things can happen and it’ll still be a bad year. 

Here’s to a better 2021 and a vaccine that even the biggest conspiracy theorist will get. I hope you all stay safe out there.

xoxo

Edit: I tested negative.

[words-with-wren]

Five times the Universe tore them apart and one time it didn’t.

It’s 2:30am. I am tired. Also running on emotional ded. Anyway Agents if SHILED finale left me an emotional mess so have this please excuse the mistakes it is very late and I must sleep soon. 

____

1. 

He was very still. He had been very still for a long time, and Jemma didn’t know what to do except sit by the bed and watch him. Relive that moment again and again while she waited for him to wake. (Would he ever wake?) 

“You’re my best friend in the world!” 

“Yeah. And you’re more than that, Jemma.” 

She sat beside the bed he lay in, a book she was pretending to read on her lap. Could things have been different? What would she do if he never woke up again? She had lived so long with him by her side she couldn’t even imagine a world without him. 

“I’m sorry, Fitz,” she whispered, as though he could hear her. (Would he ever hear her again?) In the silence of the medical room she whispered, reaching out to pick up his limp hand, not really sure what she apologised for. 

For the state he was in? 

For Ward’s betrayal? 

For not being able to save him? 

For not knowing how she felt under the confusing storm of worry and anger and grief and whatever else was there? 

She could do nothing but whisper into the quiet air and hold his hand. 

She waited. 

She waited, and when he woke things were different. And she didn’t know how to fix it. 

It drove them apart, but they found their way back to each other. 

They always did, despite the cracks that had begun to appear. 

2. 

Maveth was cold. 

(The world was cold without Jemma in it, but Fitz was going to find her). 

The nights were long, the days dark and Jemma didn’t know how she was going to survive. 

(They had found their way back to each other before - if he couldn’t figure out the monolith he could find her). 

She survived, survived even as she screamed to the dark sky, screamed and screamed and screamed. She wanted to go home, to the team, to the Playground, to Fitz. (Because Fitz was home, he always had been, at the academy, on the Bus, at the Playground Fitz was home and now he wasn’t here and she was alone.) 

(He searched the planet, searched the globe, screamed his frustrations and worked himself raw because he wasn’t himself, not without Jemma by his side. Fitzsimmons. Engineering. Bioctech. Together). 

She clung to the warmth she found because she didn’t know if she would ever find anything warmer. She clung to the one scrap of comfort, the only other human on a planet of death. She clung to him - but she missed Fitz more. 

(He jumped. He jumped because he couldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t. He jumped because he didn’t care what happened to him, maybe he would get stuck, but at least he would be stuck with Jemma.) 

They were different, on the other side. Parts of them were chipping away slowly, cracking, breaking, changing. Fitz held her as she cried, comforted her as she wept. Jemma leaned into Fitz, trusted him, loved him. 

They were different, cracks widening, breaks appearing. They were different. 

But they were together. 

3. 

“His name is Leopold James Fitz, he is a good man and I love him!” 

The sparking eyes of the LMD she had stabbed refused to leave Jemma’s vision, even as more horrors filled her mind. Even as he stared at her, unrecognising, emotionless. Dark. 

“Come back to me, Fitz.” 

She wanted to run to him, to grab him, to drag him home. She wanted to knock some sense into him, to free him from whatever prison Aida had trapped him in, to save him before he did something he regretted. 

She failed. 

(Who was that woman? He knew her, and yet - he didn’t. He didn’t care.) 

(Did he?) 

They cracked a little more as he held the gun on her, stared at her with eyes that had once been full of love. They crumbled more as he broke free, mind spinning with two memories, with two personalities, with two loves. 

The crumbled as he cried, as she pulled him close and forgave him, as he broke down and sobbed because he had done something he had regretted and she couldn’t save him from himself. 

The crumbled that little bit more, two souls bound together, breaking together. 

4. 

He wasn’t here. 

The world was silence and Jemma curled her fists, watched for her chance, waited. He had said he was coming, had said he was working on it. But where was he? 

He would come. 

(“I’m coming, Jemma. Just wait.”) 

He always did. 

And when he did it was in a whirl of smoke and fire and light and he was here and she held him and kissed him and knew she was never letting go of him again. And for a moment - for one beautiful moment, the world was perfect and they were together. 

“We have a rule.” 

“We never leave each other’s side anymore.” 

But the world refused to let them hold onto their happy moment for long and Jemma felt the universe combust as news was brought to her. 

As his body arrived in a bag, still and cold and she had never felt more alone before. Not while undercover, not while in the Framework, not even while on Maveth. She felt so alone because he was gone and she began to crumble even more. 

But he was out there - maybe they had lost some time, maybe they had lost each other again. But he was out there and he was alive and now it was her turn to find him. 

(“I’m coming Fitz. Just wait.”) 

5. 

“I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to forget.” 

Sometimes when she slept, she imagined he was here. She imagined she wasn’t constantly wondering, hoping, praying they would meet again. She imagined a world where they didn’t have to stay apart, where they could be together and happy and safe. 

And then she woke again, and she forgot and she knew the only way to remember was to complete the mission. 

“Time. Space. It’s never stopped us before.” 

She felt like a part of her was missing when he wasn’t by her side. A part of her had crumbled beyond repair, was broken and would never be fixed. 

“I won’t stop trying.” 

Neither of them had, before. They had kept pushing, kept searching, kept finding each other. And she knew. This time. This time she would find him again. 

Because if she didn’t she would shatter into a million pieces and never be whole again. 

“I love you.” 

And one time it didn’t. 

Family. 

That was what they had fought for. 

That was what they had sacrificed for. 

And somehow, despite all they had gone through, despite all the heartache and the pain and the grief and the loss - she knew she would do it all again for this one moment. 

Alya. 

The shining star they had created. 

The life they had built. 

The promise that they would never be separated again. 

Sometimes it felt like a dream, like it could come crashing down around her at any moment. 

Alya. 

Alya Fitzsimmons. 

And Fitz was here. 

And Jemma was whole. 

Cursed, she would have once said. Cursed to be forever apart, to be always wandering, always searching for each other. Cursed to never have the happy ending. 

No. 

No, they were blessed. Blessed beyond anything. The cracks were healing, the bruises fading. The pain and separation and constant searching was all for this - was all to make this moment sweeter. 

Their child. Their family. Their happy ending. 

And Jemma Simmons wouldn’t trade it for anything.