#sorry don’t know why the formatting broke fixed now hopefully

[rollingaroundin-bread]

Miscellaneous Drawfee sticky note week!!!!! :)

[renjiokumura]

Poor, Unfortunate Me:

Chapter 3

Summary: What if Ben didn’t fall in love with Mal? Find out the answer in Poor, Unfortunate Me. A story about the lesser known and evil second daughter of Ursula and how she gets the love she has been searching for her whole life.

A/N: I'm doing this off my phone so if the formatting is funky, it's because I'm not on my laptop. Also I didn't add a collage this time, and I might not in the future, because I think y'all understand the look I was going for and have a great imagination for these things.

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (You're Here) / 4 (Coming Soon)

As soon as you got back to your dorm and Evan saw you crying, she asked what was wrong and tried to calm you down. You told her what happened while twisting the truth to protect the others. She just held you and told you everything would be better. To make you feel more relaxed, she broke out some hidden treats and some self spa tools, saying she was going to pamper you.

15 minutes into the mini spa, you already felt 100 times better.

“Thanks Evan. This is the first time I've ever done a spa.” you say with an avocado mask on your face, laying on your bed with Evan right next to you.

With the same avocado mask on her face and 2 cucumber slices on her eyes, Evan says, “I can't believe you’ve never done this before. Not even with your sister?”

You sit up and look at your lap, taking a moment before you answer her question.

“No, she can't stand me, because I'm too soft. Family is not the same on the Isle as it is here. Just cause we're related doesn't mean you have to love or care for each other. You got to look out for yourself.” Your voice is heavy with years of loneliness. When you don't hear anything from Evan but a sniffle, you look to the side to see what's wrong.

Evan, with her adorable self, has tears running down her face full of avocado while she sticks a cucumber in her mouth. She sits up and while chewing the cucumber slice, she says, “That's so sad! I'll be your new sister!” you don't want to laugh, but the scene in front of you makes it hard.

“Why are you laughing? I mean it. I want to be your sister!” She says with the other slice of cucumber in her mouth. It makes you laugh harder, which results in her pouting like a little child.

After a minute you finally calm down enough to talk to her. “I'm sorry. I've never seen something so funny,” she gives you a look, “And sweet. I want to be your sister too. Come here.” you open up your arms for a hug and she takes it.

When you guys pull apart from the hug you both look each other up and down then bust out laughing. During the hug, you guys got avocado all over each other. It was all on both of your clothes. “I trust that you won't freak out when I do this.” Before she can question what you mean, you say a little spell, flick your wrist, and all the avocado is gone.

“OMG, you have magic!?” she excitedly said. You nodded ‘yes’, which resulted in a squeal from her. Her excitement was infectious and made you giddy too.

The rest of the night you guys played around with magic, until you guys fell asleep. But during your good time, the others were making a love potion cookies among other things.

After Lonnie left the kitchen, Mal put the cookies in the oven. In the silence of the kitchen the tension between the group was almost palpable, but Carlos soon broke it.

“Mal, what you said back there to Y/N was very uncalled for. Just because you and her sister have beef doesn't mean you can take it out on her.” Evie and Jay nodded to what Carlos said.

Mal is trying to hold her ground by staring Carlos down, but the guilt is too much. She huffs defeated and looks to her feet. “I know! I know… It’s just we have a mission to complete and if we don't,” she pauses looking up at the others equally frightened faces, then continues, “I don't want to think about if we don't.” The air is heavy with emotions.

The same thoughts all go through their minds in the silence of the room. They all started liking Auradon, but they wouldn’t say it out loud to each other. Here they could do and be whoever and whatever they wanted to be without worry of judgment or consequences. But when they thought about it they don't belong here. They had to remind themselves they were evil and belong to the Isle. Though, in reality, none of that was true.

They had been so lost in their thoughts, that when the timer broke the deafening silence, they all collectively jumped in surprise. They all shared a look before they all walked over to see how the cookies came out.

Mal takes out the cookies and places them on the prep table. “I think these are ready. So do we all know what the plan is for tomorrow?” They all nodded in unison.

After cleaning up, they make their way back to their dorm rooms. Jay and Carlos get to their room first, which leaves Evie and Mal to still get back to their room. When they finally get back, Evie stops Mal before she enters the room.

“You are going to apologize to Y/N, right? Just because we are evil doesn't mean we don't have manners.” Evie can understand where Y/N is coming from and hopefully Mal can too.

“Yeah, Yeah. Only so we can make her our ally again.” Evie knew Mal was actually doing it because Isle kids stick together, but if it helped Mal sleep at night she wasn't going to say anything.

When morning rolled around you felt like something good was going to happen, but it was going to have bad consequences. Letting that thought linger in the back of your mind, you thought about how first period would go after what went down. At least you knew that if Mal came after you again, Evan was coming after her. Yup, reassuring.

Evan was nice enough to walk you to your first period class, since you usually went with the others. When you got there, everyone looked at you, with sorry written all over their faces. Evie put her hand on Mal's shoulder, which prompted Mal to get out of her seat and walk over to you.

When she was finally standing in front of you, Evan stepped forward eyeing up Mal like she wasn't Maleficent’s daughter. “If you hurt my sister,” she points her thumb over her shoulder at you, “I’ll hurt you.” Your surprised by the protective nature of Evan, but let her do her thing.

Mal’s surprised too, but also impressed, so she tells Evan she understands. With that Evan hugs you goodbye and walks to her class. Once Mal has you alone, she says something you'd never expect from her. An apology.

“I want to say sorry about yesterday. What I said was not cool. Can you forgive me?” she asks, looking at you expectantly.

“Water under the bridge. Now let's get to learning.” She smirks at you, and you guys walk to your seats.

During break the group tells you about the love potion plan and you agree to help as much as possible. It hurts you to help destroy any and all chances of getting Ben, but you still feel obligated to help them and something is telling you to do so too. They tell you the plan is going to happen after school at Mal’s locker, so you just wait till then.

When the bell rings ending school, you shoot up out of your seat and run out of class since Mal’s locker is on the other side of school. This causes Evan to follow you, though. You guys always walk from 5th period back to your dorm, so she thought something had to be wrong

By running, you made it just in time. Ben had just taken a bite out of the cookie, when something roughly bumps into you, sending you into Ben’s arms.

Ben is looking down into your eyes and is holding you against his body to keep you from falling.

“Y/N, are you okay?” You nodded too speechless and dazed to verbally answer. The next thing Ben ask you truly knocks you out more than the mystery object that got you the first time.

“But did it hurt?” his slight pause gives you a chance to be confused, then he finishes. “When you fell from heaven?” At that cheesy pick-up line, everyone's jaw dropped, especially yours. You honestly couldn't believe your ears.

“Ben, Are you okay?” You ask ,being able to finally stand on your own legs, but Ben still has his arms wrapped around your thick waist.

“I'm fine, but not as fine as you, sweet thang.” he says with a love struck smile on his face which you promptly covered with your hands so he would stop flirting.

“Jay can you pull him off me, please?” Jay comes to your rescue and gently pries him off of you. Once Jay has him, he asks Ben, “Has your world been worked?”

The answer to Jay's question comes in the form of a song lyric. Looking you in the eyes, Ben sings, “You know you do.” (quoting one of Michael Jackson’s songs). At that you become flustered and turn around, not wanting to drag out your embarrassment.

When you turn around to see what pushed you into Ben, you see Evan.“Evan, what are you doing here?” she opened her mouth to answer, but you interrupted her. “Wait, were you the reason I fell into Ben?” When you said that, she became a little sheepish as she answered.

“Yes,” she whispered, “But I was only running in behind you to see if you were Ok because you left class so suddenly...sorry.” Hearing her explanation only made you smile. You could never be mad at her.

“There's no need to be sorry. You were concerned about me and I appreciate that you care enough to check up on me.” With that said you hugged her. During your talk with Evan, the boys left to get ready for their game.

Once you pull out of your hug, you look towards Mal and Evie and see they both have an urgent look on their faces. “Uh, you want to go to the field and save us some seats in the bleachers?” you ask Evan nervously. She nods ‘yes’ and runs off to the game.

“What was that?!” Mal asked incredulously.

“I’m so sorry guys. It was an accident. I tripped,” you said apologetically, “But you can fix this right?”

“No, there is no time. You’ll just have to become his girlfriend.” She said nonchalantly.

“Wait, what?!” your jaw was practically hitting the floor.

You guess this was the good thing that you felt coming, but unfortunately you knew it was going to end badly.

[wave0fg00dvibes]

Sparks - Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Could you do a spencer Reid x SSA fem!reader where you guys are on a case and he sees the cops flirting with you and gets jealous and reveals his feelings?

A/N: WOW I’m really sorry this was out so much later than I predicted. Life is hard sometimes, y’all! My stressors are gone now so hopefully I’ll be cranking out a whole lot more of these. 

Also, I never understood how writers could just start a story they thought would be short and end up with 6K words. Now I know! Whoops.

Please leave feedback if you have any! Lots and lots and LOTS of love, as always. 

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Your favorite part of any given case was closing it.

There was no rush or relief quite like the feeling of taking someone dangerous off the streets. No sensation could match handcuffing an unsub and watching officers escort them to police cars, never to wreak havoc again. Those days were undoubtedly the best part of being a profiler at the BAU. Those beautiful days took away the pain and anguish you so often faced as an agent, even if only momentarily.

Today was one of those days.

The resolution of this case provided the small town a chance to take a deep breath of relief. The killer was locked away, there were minimal casualties, and several hostages had been rescued and reunited with their families. All in all, it was a success.

Normally the team would fly back to Virginia right away, but a large, dangerous, looming electrical storm prevented a safe flight. Hotch made the executive decision to stay another night at the motel, and no one complained. After all, this case had been exhausting and draining for all of you.

It wasn’t until Morgan suggested a trip to the bar next door that the night got interesting.

Classic.

So, there you and Emily were, taking a trek across the street in the pouring rain, clutching your shared umbrella as if your lives depended on it.

“You know; I think I might be getting too old for this.” Emily nearly yelled over the roar of the weather. You laughed.

“Never! Who would be my off-duty partner in crime if not you?”

She shook her head and smiled at you. Strands of lightning lit up the sky and reflected in the many puddles at your feet. As beautiful as it was, you were not particularly comfortable holding a large piece of metal in a barren landscape during an electrical storm. As soon as the next inevitable clap of thunder shook the earth, both of you silently agreed to walk even faster to get to the bar and out of the rain.

“All I’m saying is you’d better start looking for my replacement.” Emily fired back, clutching the umbrella even harder as the wind blew the raindrops straight into your faces.

“As if I could ever replace the best wing woman I’ve ever had.” You shouted back to her. At that, Emily laughed out loud.

“Wing woman? Yeah, right.”

You didn’t have time to question her cheeky comment before the two of you finally reached the door to the bar. Emily immediately sighed in relief and you chuckled, stepping inside to relish in the warmth and shelter from the aggressive storm. Both of you stood in the doorway and took off your rain jackets, thankful to be dry and safe again.

“So, you’re telling me that if I found you someone at this bar…” Emily started to tease you, elbowing your ribs in jest. However, her eyes held an underlying mystery that frightened you. It was as if she was looking directly into your heart, reading your every move, discovering your deepest secrets.

Emily was one of your closest friends, but there was one secret in your heart that you could barely admit to yourself, much less another person. That was not something you wanted to dive into at the moment. It had been such a good day. There was no need to tarnish it with rambling thoughts and uncomfortable feelings.

Did that secret involve romantic feelings for a team member? Maybe.

She couldn’t know. There was no possible way she could know.

“I mean… I don’t know.” You bashfully tripped over your words, knowing she was kidding, but not doubting her willingness to embarrass you.

“Really? A gorgeous, smart, single woman like you, not wanting to find any company?” You blushed at the compliments, but shook your head in denial.

“Nice try, but I am perfectly happy being all alone.” You playfully nudged her shoulder. She let out a big laugh, hooking your arm in hers and starting to head toward the rest of the team at the back of the bar.

“Oh, come on. Don’t feed me that. We all know about you and Reid.” She subtly whispered in your ear.

And there it was.

She knew. Of course she knew. You felt your face begin to drain its color.

“We…” you attempted to launch into your heavily used “just friends” speech, but Emily put a finger up to your lips.

“Don’t even try that excuse with me. Just, don’t. Your self-appointed wing woman knows better.” She smirked and gave you a wink before releasing your arm and taking a seat between Morgan and JJ.

Rolling your eyes at her, you sat down in the only remaining seat, conveniently next to none other than Dr. Spencer Reid. You glared at Emily and she wiggled her eyebrows at you, fully aware of what she had done.

Oh boy. This was going to be a long night.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be around him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Plopping down next to Spencer was the most comforting thing you had done all day. Though he was deep in conversation with Morgan, he grabbed one of the drinks in front of him and handed it to you without looking. You smiled, taking the glass as you watched his face contort while arguing with his friend. This was undoubtedly a conversation you did not want to interrupt.

You took a sip from the glass, and your heart skipped a beat. He had ordered you your favorite drink without even asking if you were in the mood.

Then again, he’s a professional profiler and one of your closest friends. Of course he knew you needed it.

That’s the whole problem, though. Why fix something that isn’t broken? Why go out on a limb for something that could destroy an already perfect relationship, both personally and professionally? The costs outweighed the benefits in every single sense. It just wasn’t worth it.

But all the rationality in the world couldn’t stop your heart from longing for the fairy tale.

“Hey!” Spencer’s soft, warm voice cut through all of the noise and broke you right out of your thoughts. He had turned to face you, cheeks slightly tinted red, probably from the heat of the bar and the alcohol. His ever-shining smile lit up his face. You couldn’t help but return it.

As always, you were amazed at how one shared moment with him could make every insecurity and anxious thought feel so small.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked, the furrow in his brow reflecting his genuine concern.

“Oh, yeah! Just a couple of bumps and bruises. Nothing too serious.” You assured him.

Earlier that day you had been shot by the unsub. Thankfully, all of the bullets hit your vest and not your unprotected body. It wasn’t the first time you had been in a shooting match with a perpetrator, but for some reason this one had really rattled you.

He nodded, taking another sip of his drink before proceeding.

“I looked at your vest. If that last bullet had been just 2 centimeters to the left, it could’ve dissected your subclavian artery, and that could’ve been deadly. Arterial rupture can cause life-threatening hemorrhages, pseudoaneurysm formation, and compression of brachial plexus.” His eyes lit up with excitement as he continued to talk about your circulatory luck of the day, blissfully unaware of how intensely it had scared you.

That was one of your very favorite things about him. He took any moment, any situation, any scare, and turned it into a statistic. He put all your irrational fears into rational numbers and ideologies. No matter what happened to you, or anyone on your team, he was right there to make sure you all knew you weren’t alone, even if that meant spouting off facts about arterial dissection in a bar at midnight.

This man was something else.

“Hey, pretty boy!” This time the voice breaking you out of your thoughts was Morgan’s. Spencer’s many statistics halted abruptly as he turned to face the summoning voice.

“What ever happened to that lovely lady you were going to ask out for coffee last week?”

His body immediately tensed next to you. Your stupid, irrational, unforgiving heart dropped into your stomach.

“Um, I mean… I didn’t end up asking her.” His answer was surprisingly short. You had never seen Spencer so flustered and lost for words. You looked up at Emily and saw the delicate look of annoyance in her eyes.

“It’s really hard to date in this line of work…” Emily attempted to defend his decision, JJ nodding and offering noises of agreeance while taking sips of her drink, but Morgan cut them off to press him further.

“Oh come on Reid, you haven’t shut up about her for months!”

“Yes, thank you Emily.” Spencer replied, letting some of the tension go. “I’m not sure I want to take any of my focus away from this job right now.”

“Oh whatever…” Morgan started, but before he could go any further you saw Emily subtly kick him under the table.

She looked up at you, eyes faintly conveying her apologies and intent to knock some sense into the oblivious man. He gave her a confused look, but immediately dropped the subject after meeting her fiery gaze.

“Anyway… are you seeing anyone?” This time Morgan’s question was directed at you.

Nope. Not happening. Where was the alcohol?

“On that note, I’m going to go get a drink. Anyone want anything?” You asked, grabbing your glass and standing up quickly.

Before they could answer, you were on your way to the bar. The first drink was strong, but not strong enough to numb the stupid, unreasonable pain and excruciating awkwardness of what had just happened.

“I’ll have another of these, please.” You asked the bartender, sitting at one of the chairs to help calm your shaking knees.

Breathe.

There was literally no reason for you to be upset. He was allowed to see people. Both of you were single, for crying out loud! There was nothing you were willing to do to make the fairy tale in your head a reality, so why was this weighing on you so heavily?

Breathe. For the love of everything, breathe.

He deserved every happiness in the world, and more. There was no reason for you to be so self-centered and deny him that. Who’s to say he even thought of you as anything more than a colleague anyway?

“Agent?” You slightly jumped and turned to face the familiar voice, recognizing the man sitting next to you instantly.

“Sergeant Jones. Hi.” You presented the best smile you could muster in the moment at the sight of one of the local deputies.

“Please, call me Michael. It’s so nice to see you outside of the unfortunate situations our jobs bring.” His smile was warm, and the hand he reached out to shake was soft.

“It’s nice to see you too, Michael.” You smiled, angling yourself to face him more directly.

Breathe. Distractions are good, especially when they are this handsome. Breathe.

His short blonde hair was combed perfectly, and his blue flannel shirt subtly brought out his eyes. No wedding ring. You could feel your heart ever so slowly begin to rise at the prospect of feeling valued, wanted, especially by a handsome stranger. 

Did it take your mind off Spencer? No. 

Could anything at this point? Who knows.

“Are you okay?” He asked, the true concern evident in his pretty blue eyes.

No, Michael. You seem wonderful but this is the worst timing.

“Yeah! Yeah, it’s just been a long day.” You lied straight through your teeth like a pro. However, you were captivated by his seemingly genuine integrity.

“You can say that again.” He chuckled. “This town hasn’t seen action like this in the last century, at least.”

Spencer could probably pinpoint the exact date of the last time this tiny town had a historic day like this…

NOPE. Breathe.

“How often does your team handle cases like these?” Michael’s deep voice snapped you out of your racing thoughts.

Okay, this was good. You were good at talking about work. It was basically your whole life.

“Well, we mostly handle serial killer cases. Sometimes abductions, things of that nature.”

Michael was a good listener, and the way his body angled toward yours indicated he actually enjoyed listening to you talk about your gruesome job.

“Cases involving children are the hardest for me, but it’s different for everyone.” You added.

“Yeah, I understand. I know our jobs are of different caliber, but I struggle with those too.”

You were enamored with Michael’s honesty and emotional depth in your short conversation. Compassionate, good at listening, and handsome? The other shoe was sure to drop soon…

The bartender set your drink down in front of you, but before you could pay her Michael handed her some cash.

“Oh no…” You started to argue.

“Please, I insist. It’s been a hard day for all of us.” Michael softly smiled at you. You smiled back, immediately taking a big gulp of the strong drink. Bring on the numbness.

“So, do you have any kids?” His surprising question caused you to choke and begin coughing profusely. He immediately looked alarmed, placing a hand on your arm to steady you.

“I’m so sorry, I just meant because those cases affect you so much… I didn’t mean…”

“No! No, it's okay!” You choked out between coughs. Could this night get any more awkward? You took a deep breath and drink of water before continuing, noticing his strong, soft hand was still on your arm.

“No, I don’t have any kids yet. It’s hard to find time to date in this line of work.”

“Cheers to that.” He smiled, lifting his drink to tap yours.

Feeling the alcohol start to kick in, you closed your eyes and smiled. Finally.

“Hey, I never got a chance to thank you for what you did today.” You opened your eyes to meet his, slightly confused as to what he meant, but he continued. “You jumped in front of one of my men and took those bullets.”

Ah, transference. He’s only interested because he thinks you’re a hero.

“Oh, that’s just part of the job.” You brushed it off.

“No. That was true bravery and sacrifice.” Michael turned completely toward you. “I don’t know many people who would’ve done that. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

...or maybe he’s just incredibly kind?

“Of course.” You laid your free hand on top of his. Thankful for the recognition, but far more thankful that no one had been harmed that day.

“Man if you didn’t have to leave, I would absolutely be asking you on a date right now.” Michael’s undying honesty once again caught you by surprise.

“You’re just saying that because I took a successful risk today.”

“No, I’m saying it because in the last five minutes I’ve realized that you’re smart, along with brave and clearly beautiful.”

All you could do was smile and squeeze Michael’s hand, for though the flattery was lovely, both of you knew full well that was all it could be.

Out of nowhere, you felt the air tense. Michael looked past you in confusion, and all at once you knew who was there. You could feel Spencer’s presence before he spoke a single word. Somehow you could tell he had been there for a short while, and could feel the inevitable speech coming.

“Actually that’s called transference, which happens when material from our unconscious mind is propelled into our conscious mind as we try to deal with the usually painful psychological trauma that we are experiencing. The brain unconsciously re-surfaces and re-enacts conflict-ridden experiences as if the past were the present and one setting were another. We transfer thoughts, feelings, and attitudes, especially about people who resemble others. We assign them roles once played by others. We take on old roles ourselves. All unconsciously.”

Both you and Michael were stunned into silence, staring at Spencer as if he were from another planet.

What the hell was he doing?

You sighed, giving up any hope for a single shred of happiness to come from this night.

“Michael, you remember Dr. Reid.”

“Of course, good to see you again.” Michael nodded toward Spencer, which he awkwardly returned.

“Sorry to interrupt. I came over to see if you were alright after that coughing spell and couldn’t help but overhear…”

“It’s fine, Spencer.” You coolly cut him off, begging him with your eyes to go back to the table and let you make a connection, for once.

He saw the look, understood, and promptly ignored it.

“We should probably get back to the motel. The others left when I got up to check on you.”

“I’m a big girl, Spencer. I’ll be okay.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

“I can walk her back.” Michael looked up at Spencer, attempting to analyze him, to no avail.

“That won’t be necessary.” Spencer looked him dead in the eye, challenging him. A sudden look of realization dawned on Michael’s face. He immediately stood up, grabbing his jacket.

“Wow, I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding. I assumed you were single.”

God fucking dammit, Spencer.

“Oh I am! I am. It’s not like that. Spencer is just a good friend.”

Spencer stood there, unmoving, arms crossed, stoic as he could be. Michael gave up the silent fight, putting on his jacket and turning to leave.

“Listen, it was really nice to see you again, agent. Thank you again, truly, for all you did for my team today. Best wishes.” He shook your hand, far more awkward this time, and nodded to Spencer before bolting toward the door.

The prior sadness couldn’t hold a flame to the anger bubbling inside you at that moment. You whipped around to face the ever stoic Spencer, who didn’t seem to care about the fact that you were pissed as all hell about what he had just done. Before he could say another word, you took your coat from his outstretched arm and stormed toward the door, not caring if he followed or not.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped, but the beautiful lightning illuminated the sky as you furiously stomped back across the street to the motel. Normally you would attempt to walk softly in your heeled boots so as to not draw attention, but you couldn’t care less in this moment. You wanted Spencer to know just how royally pissed off you were, and you could tell he was right behind you.

Who did he think he was? Swooping in at the last second to sever the one human connection you’d made all night? Breaking the newfound bond you started with someone to distract from what he had caused?

The anger coursing through your veins seemed to dissolve the alcohol all on its own. You were no longer drunk, you were furious.

Breathe. Assault of a federal agent will put your ass in jail. Breathe.

It wasn’t until the two of you were alone in the elevator that you’d finally calmed down enough to form a sentence.

“What the fuck, Spencer?”

He didn’t answer. You took a deep breath, trying to expel the burning desire to scream. It didn’t work.

Of course, the one time you truly needed his explanation, he refused to offer it.

When the elevator reached your floor, he silently followed you to your room. You fished in your pocket for the key, but before you could swipe it Spencer grabbed your wrist, turning you toward him.

“I’m sorry.” He flatly stated.

Sure. Nice try.

“For what?” You challenged, not breaking his eye contact.

“For not getting you out of that situation sooner.”

You laughed right in his face. Pitiful, loud, uncontrollable laughter.

“Are you kidding me? Seriously? Oh my God.” You laughed so hard you thought you were going to throw up, clutching your stomach and leaning forward. His arms attempted to steady you but you eagerly batted them away.

“What is so funny about that?” You could tell he was getting frustrated.

Were you really about to start this?

You were really about to start this.

“Guess what? Men are allowed to flirt with me, Spencer. Believe it or not some people actually find me desirable.” He was surprised, but not as much as you thought he might be.

He didn’t deny that this was what had struck the nerve and prompted him to get you out of the bar.

“Those cops are bad news.” He broke eye contact, further proving your point.

“Michael was kind to me.”

“He was putting up a front.”

“Why is it so difficult for you to believe someone could actually be attracted to me?”

“He doesn’t even know you!”

“And if he did he wouldn’t want me?”

Spencer opened his mouth to fight back, but immediately closed it, eyes darting between the patterns on the carpet. Your heart cracked.

“I didn’t realize you thought so little of me, Spencer.”

“That’s not what I…” He cut himself off with a deep sigh, putting his hands behind his head and looking up to the ceiling.

“Then what the hell is it, because I don’t have time for this.” You spat, trying to use your keycard once more. Spencer grabbed your wrist again, holding tightly even as you tried to squirm away.

“What is your problem?” You nearly yelled in his face. “I don’t understand why it is SUCH a stretch in your mind that a man could want to spend time with me. Why can’t you fucking accept that?”

This time, as you tried to push him off of you, he grabbed your other arm and pinned both behind your back, pulling you close to him so you couldn’t escape.

“Because no matter who it is, I can guarantee they don’t want you as badly as I do.”

Your entire, sober brain shut down. All at once, the world was spinning, and not from alcohol.

You pushed him away, and this time he let you go, standing at a respectful distance, allowing you to soak in his confession. The wheels in your head weren’t turning fast enough for this.

“But… that girl Morgan was talking about…”

“Yeah. That’s you.”

Wait… what?

You let your hands fall to your knees as you leaned forward. It was too late in the night for this, too wrong a moment for such a bold confession.

So… he wanted to ask you out… but didn’t? When did that happen? When have you ever given him an indication you weren’t interested? But had you ever given him an indication you were interested?

The madness in your swirling thoughts was interrupted by Spencer taking a step toward you. Oh no. Oh dear God no.

Your brain screamed at you to move, take a step, run away, anything. But your heart held its own. In your deepest desires, you had been waiting for this moment since the day you met him.

Now it was your turn to observe the patterns on the carpet. Each and every flower seemed far more interesting now that you were confused out of your mind and your heart was beating at twice its normal rate.

All of the sudden, the toes of his converse lined up with your own, and you felt his hand lift your chin to look him in the eyes. In the low light of the hallway, they almost looked golden.

He moved painfully slowly, as if you would bolt at any moment. Which, to be fair, if your rational brain had anything to say about this moment, you’d be halfway down the street by now.

But, it didn’t. His hands slowly made their way to your waist, delicately touching to make sure you were okay before settling firmly. Your own hands worked their way up his arms and around his neck, feeling every tense, trembling move he made the whole way.

It was as if the entire world was paused, as if everything was in slow motion except for you and him. For the first time since you joined the bureau, you allowed your guard to drop for a moment.

And in that brief moment, his lips met yours.

Alarm bells sounded in your mind as soon as it happened, and you pulled your head away, ending the kiss almost as quickly as it began. You frantically looked into his eyes, still clutching onto him, allowing yourself to let it sink in.

Spencer Reid had just kissed you. Okay, sure.

The part that really scared you was how much you enjoyed it.

Breathe, dear God, fucking breathe.

He held your gaze with a surprising intensity, letting his eyes tell you all the truths he was afraid to say out loud.

You were afraid too. Terrified.

Yet, somehow, standing in that musty motel hallway holding onto your best friend for dear life after just locking lips for the first time felt like the most natural, perfect thing in the world.

Were you really about to continue this?

You bet your ass you were about to continue this.

You grabbed his face and pulled his head back down to yours to kiss him again. Your lips met just as softly, but this time settled into an intimate rhythm. One of your hands made its way into his hair, lightly pulling, causing him to let out a deep moan.

Oh, no. No, no, no. You really liked that.

His hands splayed out over your back, attempting to bring you even closer as your bodies moved together.

So this was what you had been running from all this time, the scariest possible scenario you’d tried so hard to bury.

That fear seemed minuscule compared to the overwhelming feeling of goodness that came from being this close to him, feeling his soft hair in your hands and his beating heart against your chest.

The edge of the abyss grew closer with every soft movement and crash of your lips. The point of no return loomed, begging you to hold him closer, bring him into your room, and cross all of the lines your paranoid mind had set long ago. After all, rules were made to be broken and lines were meant to be crossed, right? By the way he hungrily pressed your body against the door to your room, you knew he was thinking the exact same thing.

But, in true agent fashion, your rational brain caught up to you before you could make the dream a reality.

You pulled away harshly, and he immediately removed his hands and stepped back. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might burst right out of your chest.

He looked so beautiful like this, hair all disheveled, lips big, full, and thoroughly kissed. His eyes held the horror you had grown to know so well, the fear of ruining one of the very best things in your lives. You were positive your own eyes reflected the very same idea.

“Spencer…”

“I know.” He cut you off, closing his eyes.

“We can’t ruin this. We can’t go down that road.”

“I know.”

The charged silence that followed was most unwelcome. 

“Why would you say that. Why would you act on that?” Your accusation against his confession was less of an attack and more of a whimper, trying so hard to bury the longing feelings again.

He shrugged, analyzing the carpet once more. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Spencer.” You let his name roll off your tongue softly, gently, longing to somehow take it all back, to push what you had done into some secret place, never to be seen or spoken of again.

He looked up at you, the same emotions swirling through his eyes. He understood.

“I didn’t want to live any longer not knowing, I guess.” He softly admitted.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. There was no way to take it back, no way to fix this, no rational comfort you could offer.

There was nothing more either of you could say.

So, with that, he turned on his heel and walked back to his own room, never looking back.

You stood there in the hallway for a long while, completely stunned. It wasn’t until the subtle bell of the elevator broke your trance that you finally swiped your keycard and retreated to the solace of your room.

Somehow, in the midst of the war going on in your head, you managed to pack all of your things. You wouldn’t remember going through with your night routine or climbing into the soft motel bed, but somehow your unconscious mind led you there.

The tears of frustration didn’t start until about 20 minutes into blankly staring at the ceiling. They rolled down your cheeks and pooled in your hair, but you barely noticed. Every so often, you lifted your hand to your lips, unbelievingly, wishing for some reminder of what it felt like to be connected with him. 

How had your pride been so dominating that it thrust you into the very situation you worked tirelessly to avoid? What prompted him to act so impulsively? Why did you just stand there and let him leave?

Most importantly, how in the world were you going to resolve this?

To say it was going to be a sleepless night would be the understatement of the century.

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

As you got on the plane the next morning, Emily was the first one to meet your exhausted gaze. She got up from her seat and walked over to you, enveloping you in her arms.

“I heard the yelling from my room. I’m sorry.” She whispered. You sighed, hugging her back as hard as you could.

So, they all knew. Of fucking course they all knew. Even Hotch and Rossi shot you a look of understanding sympathy as you moved to take the seat next to Emily. JJ patted your knee knowingly, and you gave her hand a squeeze before laying your head on Emily’s shoulder. Maybe now, surrounded by your girls, you would finally be able to get some sleep.

Thankfully, your hope became a reality. The next time you opened your eyes, everyone around you had drifted off as well. You gingerly lifted your head, making sure not to disturb Emily’s fragile sleep. 

The plane was peacefully silent, and as you scanned the cabin, your heart ached with gratitude for your team, your family. Getting shot was less than ideal, but the love and appreciation it prompted was most welcome. 

You felt Spencer’s eyes on you before you even noticed he was awake.

Turning your head toward the couch he was sprawled out on, your eyes locked with his. He made no move to look away, and neither did you. 

Fixing this was a necessity, and you both knew it. There was no space for awkwardness or personal feelings getting in the way of this line of work. 

As always, even despite the awkwardness and confusion of the past 24 hours, plopping down next to Spencer was still the most comforting feeling. Looking into his equally-tired eyes provided some comfort. At least you knew you weren’t the only one that lost sleep over the incident. 

His eyes were always a home to you, no matter what state your friendship was in. This was uncharted territory for both of you. Simply sitting next to each other, enjoying the presence and absorbing the moment, seemed to kickstart the healing that was sure to follow. 

Before you knew it, your arms were reaching out for him, and his enveloped you. Your head immediately fell to his shoulder, letting out a deep breath you didn’t remember taking. 

“I’m sorry.” You offered, chuckling at the whole situation. He joined in your slight laughter, squeezing you a little bit tighter as you felt the glorious sound reverberating in his chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He whispered. 

You pulled away to look at him, offering a small smile that he quickly returned. It already felt as if 1,000 pounds had been lifted from the air around you.

“It’s just, I would never forgive myself if I ruined this friendship, you know?” You admitted, ashamedly.

“I do. I promise, I do.” He insisted. You knew it was the truth.

The plane jolted from sudden turbulence, and you quickly scanned the cabin to make sure no one had woken up. When you were certain the whole team was still in a deep sleep, you turned back to Spencer, finally voicing the question that had been hovering for hours.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“Probably for the same reason you didn’t tell me.” He replied, smirking at you.

Fair enough. You relaxed at the reemergence of his straightforward attitude, refreshed to know that his brutal honesty was unceasing. 

The silence that followed held far more meaning than more words could. 

There was no easy fix here, even though both of your feelings were now out in the open. Romantic attachment was a recipe for disaster for anyone at the BAU, much less two of its own agents. You both knew that all too well.

So… what now? Logically, you were at a dead end. 

Then, in true Spencer Reid fashion, he genuinely surprised you.

“Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” He unceremoniously blurted. You looked up at him in surprise. Suddenly, it felt as if every logical answer to that question had left your brain.

“I…” 

“Don’t think too hard, just reply.” He quickly added, desperate for an answer, longing for a means to an end of whatever this night had started.

“Spencer Reid… are you asking me on a date?” 

“Yes, I am.” His golden brown eyes met yours. No hesitation, no jokes.

It’s amazing how the moments you spend so long running from can sneak up on you in a single instant. You knew that every fear you had about taking this path with him was rational. Attachment was a death sentence for one or both of you, in its own way. 

Was your heart really worth that risk? Running away from your feelings for so long was exhausting. How much longer would you really want to push it all away?

Well… you were both inevitably going to die anyway. Might as well do it with some love in your heart. 

“I’m not asking for forever, I swear. Just for a couple hours of your time. I just think…” He started, but you held up a hand, hoping he would ease up for long enough to let you answer.

Were you really about to take this leap?

“I would love to.”

Damn right you were.

His surprised smile was blinding, and you couldn’t help but match it. 

This time, you barely noticed the turbulence when the cabin fell silent. Both of you sunk back into your seats, relief flooding the air. The million thoughts constantly circling in your head all stopped for a single moment, allowing you to finally, blissfully, breathe.

“You know, for two profilers, we really should have caught this sooner.” Your tired eyes began to fall closed again, finally feeling the full weight of the night lift from your shoulders.

“Yes, but as two emotional repressors, I think we did a pretty great job.” Spencer’s sweet, beautiful voice brought you back, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyful laugh at his sassy retort.

Touché, Reid.

You silently scooted closer to him on the couch, laying your head on his shoulder and letting sleep overtake you once more. 

“I’m not asking for forever.”

His words, meant for comfort and persuasion in the moment, replayed in your mind as his arms encircled you.

“I’m not asking for forever.”

No, love. Not just yet.

[dakotacrisis]

Transferred (14)

The Class used: Remorse

It is super effective!

---

The next couple of days after Lila’s downfall were strangely normal. Outside of Marinette’s old classmates liking her social media posts again they weren’t interacting with her directly. According to Adrien and Alya, Lila had vanished from the school altogether after what went down. No one had heard from her and no one was looking to reach out to her. Served her right for everything she had done. If Marinette never saw Lila again it would be too soon.

“Thanks again for coming over to help with this,” Marinette told her friends.

Alya, Aurore, and Wayhem were all in Marinette’s room as she pieced together Kagami’s fundraiser dress. Kagami couldn’t make it over so Aurore was being used as a live model to see how it looked walking and sitting. Wayhem actually knew how to sew too so he was helping with a couple alterations and handing over a convenient pin or needle when needed. Then Alya was sitting on the chaise keeping the rest of them entertained with music, gossip, and memes.

“It was nothing.” Aurore said, “You’re sure it’s okay for me to wear this though? Isn’t it supposed to be tailored to Kagami?”

“It is but I need to see how it moves and hangs on a real person and you two have the same measurements. If she wasn’t at fencing practice I’d have her here but it is what it is.” Marinette shrugged.

“For the short notice it turned out pretty spectacular.” Wayhem praised, “Aurore, I want to make sure the hem is even. Can you do a slow turn?”

“Sure,”

“Ha, someone made the lady yelling at the cat meme with Ladybug and Chat Noir.” Alya said.

“Who’s the cat?” Aurore asked.

“Chat Noir. Why would the cat themed hero not be the cat in the format?”

“Diversity? Ladybug could be a cat if she wanted to be.” Aurore shrugged.

Marinette had to stifle a mad laugh. She had played Lady Noir once. That was plenty. Although she will admit the few photos of herself with Chat’s miraculous looked good. She really should wear black more often.

“I think we are done.” Wayhem stepped back. “Hem is even. Anything you notice that needs fixing, Marinette?”

“Let me see.” She paced around the dress tugging it here and there and making sure all the seams were neat. “Looks good. How does it feel? Too tight? Too loose?”

“It is perfect.” Aurore stepped off her tiny pedestal.

“Walk in it. I wanna see how it moves.” Marinette instructed. “Okay. Moves well. Looks good. I think we are done. You can go behind the divider and change. I need to grab the garment bag from the downstairs closet.”

Marinette had pulled the garment bag out of the closet when there was a knock on the front door. She set the bag down and went to see who it was. Maybe Kagami had managed to get off early and wanted to try on the dress.

The dozen of faces waiting outside her door were definitely not Kagami. It looked like all her old classmates had decided to pay a visit. She hadn’t directly talked to any of them since she transferred and they had only barely begun to try reaching out to her now. Suffice to say it felt very strange seeing them here at her house.

“Hi,” Marinette gripped the door handle tighter. “What uh...what are you guys doing here?”

“We--well we wanted to um--” Nino wrung his hat around in his hands.

“We came to apologize.” Alix blurted out.

“Oh” Marinette had thought this might happen. She wasn’t expecting everyone at once though.

“Yeah. We were pretty harsh when everything with Lila happened. It wasn’t right.” Mylene said.

“You were also pretty scary too.” Kim was silenced by Ivan subtly elbowing him in the ribs.

“To be perfectly honest our failure to recognize Lila’s deceit was nothing short of imbecilic. I should have known she was lying when she said you cheated during the gaming tournament. Your skills are far too refined to ever have to resort to cheat codes.” Max said.

“We were so mean and we’re really sorry about all of this.” Rose looked like she was close to breaking down in tears. “I didn’t--I didn’t think that--”

Juleka hugged Rose as she started to blubber.

“Marinette?” Alya came downstairs followed by Wayhem and Aurore. “Nino? Guys? What’s going on?”

“They’re here to apologize.” Marinette was trying not to have another breakdown.

The all at once relief of stress and anxiety had left Marinette rather sensitive. At random points it would just hit her all at once and she’d start crying or laughing or both. Yesterday Adrien gave her a hug and she broke down. So having all her old peers outside her door apologizing and asking forgiveness was definitely wearing on her sanity control.

“Uncool guys. You just can’t ambush someone like this! Even if it is well meaning.” Alya stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. There was some muffled conversation before she opened the door again. “Now, what do we have to say to Marinette?”

“Sorry for coming over uninvited and without any notice.” Nino said. “We weren’t sure you would see us if we asked.”

“I won’t act like everything that happened didn’t hurt me. I thought we were all friends but when the time came you all took Lila’s side. Someone you barely knew. It was infuriating but even more disappointing that my word seemed to carry such little weight with all of you.”

“Marinette--”

“Let her finish.” Aurore glared at the others.

“I know the real culprit here is Lila. She’s the one that lied and sabotaged and drove me out of the school by turning everyone against me. I’ll never forgive her.” Marinette took a deep breath, “But I think I am ready to start forgiving you.”

The class perked up at that.

“That is great to here. There is one other thing we came to ask though.” Nathaneal said.

“Which is?”

“We would love it if you transferred back to Dupont. We miss you and want our sweet classmate back.” Rose said.

“What did I just tell you guys about putting pressure on an unassuming person?” Alya groaned. She turned to Marinette, “I am so sorry about them. You don’t have to answer.”

“I think it is a fair question.” Wayhem shrugged. “Now that Lila’s been exposed, would you transfer back?”

“I know we weren’t in the same class but it would be nice seeing you around school again.” Aurore smiled.

“Everyone, please,” Marinette backed up, “I appreciate you coming over to apologize and asking me to come back. But the fact of the matter is that I am not coming back to Dupont. It isn’t anything against all of you but I love where I am right now. I’ve made new friends and have finally caught up with the rest of the class at my new school.”

“Also,” Marinette sighed, “Even though all of you know the truth about Lila I can’t be around her. I not only want to keep as far from her as I can but I feel like I need to stay way from her. Especially now that she’s been outed as the liar she is I can only see her getting more hostile.”

“No one has heard from her in days though. She might have transferred schools or been expelled.” Alix insisted. “If she did try anything we’d be there for you this time. You wouldn’t need to worry.”

“I still can’t take that chance. I left because it was the best thing for me at the time. Now I’m not returning because this is still the case. I hope you can accept that.”

Everyone looked disappointed but nodded.

“Thanks for hearing us out.” Mylene said.

“Alright, off with the lot of you.” Alya shooed them out. “Nino, you’re coming with me. Marinette, I’ll text you later. Bye!”

“Bye!” Marinette watched them file back down the steps. When she heard the downstairs door close she dropped to new knees. She had felt like keeling over the second she opened the door and saw all them waiting for her.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Wayhem helped her up.

“I need a moment.” Marinette trudged over to the couch. “My head hurts.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you handled that very well.”

“Thanks.” Marinette took a few more calming breaths. “Oh wait, the dress,”

“I got it.” Wayhem grabbed the garment bag. “You chill for a minute.”

“Thank you, Wayhem.” Marinette leaned against Aurore, “Why does life have to be so darn complicated?”

“If it were simple it would be boring.” Aurore patted her back. “The worst is over now.”

I doubt that. Marinette thought. More hard times and horrible people would come but for right now she could breathe and know everything was okay. If only for a little bit.

 Wayhem and Aurore hung out for a bit longer before they had to go. Marinette checked on Kagami’s dress a final time before texting her that it was all done. Unfortunately Kagami’s schedule didn’t mean they’d get a chance to do a final fitting before the fundraiser but Marinette was going to come over extra early the evening of to help her get ready. Hopefully if anything needed altered she’d have enough time to do it.

The days flew by and soon it was the night of the fundraiser. Marinette took the dress and made her way to Kagami’s house. Kagami answered the door and pulled her inside.

“Someone is excited,” Marinette laughed, “here is your dress,” She handed over the garment bag.

“What isn’t there to be excited about?” Kagami was bouncing as she took the dress. It was cute seeing her getting all giddy about it. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight all week.”

“And I can’t wait to see the outfit all put together. Go try it on!” Marinette ushered her into the bedroom. She waited nervously as Kagami put on the dress.

“MARINETTE!” Kagami shrieked. She’s seen the alteration.

Kagami stepped back out of the room in the dress. It looked fantastic. A fitted royal blue dress with an off the shoulder neckline. “What is this?” she pointed at the small slit Marinette had put in the dress. Nothing too much but it gave a cheeky peek of thigh when she walked.

“I know that you didn’t want anything short but you deserve to show off your legs a little. This is a great compromise.”

“I don’t know…” she tugged at the slit.

“If it bothers you that much I did bring my supplies to close it but you look amazing. You look hot.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Go put on the rest of the outfit. We’re on a deadline!” Marinette helped her tie on her strappy black heels while Kagami put her earrings in. Marinette carefully did her makeup so it wasn’t over the top but highlighted her big brown eyes and made her lips very kissable. (Side note to review sexuality later.)

“Alright,” Marinette put her in front of the mirror, “What do you think?”

“Wow,” Kagami couldn’t stop smiling, “I look--I don’t even know!”

“You look spectacular. You are going to turn heads this evening, my dear Kagami.” Marinette stood behind her smoothing out her hair and picking tiny bits off lint off her dress.

“Thank you, Marinette.” Kagami smiled at her. “It means so much. Not just the dress but being encouraging about Adrien. But more importantly this friendship between you and me. You are a great girl and I’m glad that I’ve gotten to know you better.”

“Me too,” She rested her head against Kagami’s shoulder, “I don’t think I ever thought I would be hyping up my romantic rival for a date with my crush. But, it’s you and I kinda love you. You’re great and no matter who Adrien ends up with, whether it be you, me, or someone else, I’m glad we have this friendship.”

“Dang it, Marinette,” Kagami fanned her face, “Is this mascara waterproof?”

“Don’t cry!” Marinette grabbed her a tissue, “No tears!”

“Stop being so sweet then!” Kagami dabbed at the corner of her eyes.

After they had both calmed down Marinette checked the time. They had to get going if Kagami was gonna be on time. They walked out to the limo. “Hope you have fun,”

“Okay, so I have a small confession,” Kagami was fidgeting. Fidgeting!

“What?” Marinette eyed her suspiciously.

“You’re coming to this fundraiser too.”

“Say what?”

“Come on, we don’t have a whole lot of time.”

---

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (15)

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@northernbluetongue @ladylb @immatureidiot101 @lady-flora-of-slytherin @zazzlejazzle @shamefullove @heredemaquam @kristycocopops @schrodingers25 @sublimemagazinestarlight @crazylittlemunchkin @daydream-wannabewriter @trainflavor @never-neverland

[ussjellyfish]

hold to the now, the here | pt 12 | philinda | AoS | teen

And they have the baby! (really quite proud of this one)

read on Ao3

With the four of them circling around her like a flight formation, at least she doesn't have to talk. Bobbi's been off with (and without) Hunter doing their own thing for more than a year so she has stories, and Daisy spent some time in South America with Mack and Elena, so she has her own things to say. For once, Phil's as quiet as she is, wrapped up in worrying about timing and intensity. They walk in a loop, through the hallway, then the great room, past the gym, the bathroom, the kitchen and the other halls that lead to the landing bays. The compound's half-into the hill, half-hidden in the ancient village of brick and beams. It's peaceful, not a forgotten place, but a patient one. 

They laugh around her and she missed the story. Bobbi is funny, she's so easily funny, but she listens too. Melinda doesn't have to ask them to stop, they just pause when she puts her hands on the wall and that tightening roars back like g-force. There's a sharpness to it that was absent before, an urgency that creeps over her. Phil's hand strokes the back of her neck and Bobbi's strong hands trade out for Daisy's.

"Harder is better," Jemma reminds her. "Too light and you'll just annoy her."

Melinda's half-tempted to ask Daisy just to vibrate her spine back into place but that's probably not what she really wants. Daisy presses a little harder and she sighs. "Good."

"Okay." She can't see her, but Melinda can picture Daisy's little smile. This is hard for her, for all of them, and this is just the start. 

Or the middle.

Phil holds her cheek, smiling. He brushes damp hair off her forehead and looks up at the women around them. "Help me pull her hair back." 

Jemma pulls something from her pocket and Phil's hands slip over her hair, pulling it back. When did she start to get sweaty? How did she miss that? It's cooler near the training rooms, and they walk around the sparring room, bare feet sticking to the mats. They stop along the mirror, hands on the bar. She glances up long enough to register the strangeness of her own reflection. Her body's been through so much, given blood to save the world, been tossed, smashed, dropped; impaled...now she has to do this too. 

Her breath catches and even Daisy's hands don't ease this wave of pain. It creeps up and outward and she shuts her eyes, letting the light go. 

Phil whispers, then kisses her cheek. She turns from the bar to him, hands on his shoulders. 

"What do you think? This is it?" 

"Are you asking if it hurts yet?"

"I was trying to be less direct."

She leans in, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "Are we ready?"

"This is the easy part."

She laughs, then moans. It creeps up and out, hot and demanding. 

"It's okay. Breathe."

She is, isn't she? Something pops, gushes, and her legs are wet and it puddles around her feet, warm and wet. There's no real smell to it and Jemma checks, because she's always checking. The pop took some of the pressure but it changes, her muscles twist and that sudden rise in pain: that's what she expected. 

They rush around her, worrying about the floor and her feet and her clothes and Jemma wants to check internally and that's really not--

"Hey," Phil draws her attention and holds it. "I know there's a lot happening, just stay with me." 

She has to swallow before words form in her throat. "My water broke."

"And that's good." 

"Easy for you to say."

Phil laughs but there's a little wince to it. Good, he should feel bad. It's the least he can do.

"Drink this." Daisy holds up a straw and she's got that little fretting look too. Bobbi at least has a better poker face. Where did she and Simmons disappear to? 

She holds the water in her mouth, forcing herself to swallow just so she can bite her lip. Daisy steps back, her expression all soft. Concern shines in her dark eyes and she doesn't know how to take that away. 

Hissing through the end of it, Melinda takes a breath. "It's all right, Daisy."

"Yeah?" 

"You've said that about being stabbed and breaking your own wrist."

"I never broke it."

"Sounded broken."

Chuckling a little, Melinda leans back against the wall, shutting her eyes. She might have a whole minute before the next contraction. "Pain isn't a problem, Daisy."

"Okay."

"I'm okay." 

Daisy rolls her eyes. "You'd say that." 

"She would." Phil strokes her hair, smiling. "And it's all right, just trust her." 

Maybe Daisy can trust him. He knows how she is, how this is, how pain is just part of the process. Something you burn through like the clouds. 

Bobbi and Jemma return, talking. Fitz went somewhere, got something. Pain rises again, threatening her senses, and the universe closes in. This demands her attention, her focus, most of her strength-- 

He's still there. Phil has his hands on her hips, keeping her steady. He meets her eyes, whispers, reminds her to breathe. Focus. She's somewhere between fighting and surrender and neither of them seems to work because pain rises, demands, burns, and then returns. It would almost be easier if it was constant. She could force that down. 

Maybe he understands. His hands run up her sides, then rest on her hips, warm and strong. He's not frightened, and his gaze is clear. 

"Breathe," he insists. "You're all right."

There aren't words for this. She grabs his arms, because he's stable, strong. He's here. They're doing this together, bringing this baby into the world together. They made her together, so this is right. She can usually control this- herself- better. Broken ribs, puncture wounds, glass and gunshots and knives-- This is nothing. It's just shifting, changing.

"When you're ready, we're going to the bedroom." 

That means walking between, using the time. 

"I can give you something, take the edge off--" Jemma's trying to help but that's not it. That's not--

"No."

"It's an option."

"She knows," Phil says for her. He rests his thumb on her cheek, holding her gaze. "They make her too foggy."

"We're not in any danger here. We've been very careful."

"I--" Melinda starts to speak on her own, but she's lost another minute. Instead of creeping, this time it crashes over her, hot, insistent, like a sandstorm on the windscreen. 

"You'd defend us in an instant," he teases, pulling her closer. "Hopefully you won't have to." 

That was the point of getting so far away, being so far off the grid that they're miles from the nearest village, alone in the snow. There's nothing to see above them, no one looking for them, no one left to fight. 

It would almost be easier if she had to hold a gun, stare someone down, disarm an enemy-- 

Her back aches, lightning quick, sharp. The baby squirms, her feet nudging against her ribs. It doesn't hurt her. She's heard it prepares her for breathing, for the world outside. Melinda tries to imagine her face, what she'll look like; how she'll echo Phil and her parents.  She hides her face in Phil's chest, panting against the damp fabric of his shirt. He takes a step closer, holding her up. 

Wait it out. Breathe. Stay standing. Fight. Let go. Surrender. Curl up in a ball and scream. It's not that bad and then as if she's tested it, it is. It's sharp and rough and her belly contracts down so hard her fingertips tingle in Phil's shirt. 

"I love you," he whispers, soft in her ear. He's a light, warm above the clouds. Focus- fuck- getting shot is easier.

"I'd rather be shot."

"I know." He breathes with her, guiding her up. "This is worth it. She's going to be beautiful."

She hasn't opened her eyes in awhile, hasn't needed to see. 

Phil shifts back, kissing her cheek. "I have to go, just for second I'll be right back. I want you to hang on to Bobbi, all right?"

Fear surges up almost as sharp as a contraction itself, but that she can shove down, force away. 

"Daisy and Jemma are right here," Bobbi says, warm, calm. 

He's not leaving. He must have to eat or use the bathroom. He's human. They are. How long has it been? Has she looked at a clock or thought about time or food or--

She doesn't mean to make a sound, hissing makes Daisy tense, and Jemma's going to ask again about painkillers because she wants to help. Bobbi's just as sturdy as Phil, holding her up even though her fingers must be like claws. She's not him. The smell's all different and she hasn't covered Bobbi's shirt in sweat. 

They talk, but she doesn't hear, doesn't look. Daisy's face is so concerned, so worried that it fills her mind once she closes her eyes. 

"She doesn't have to suffer through it," Jemma says, sweet Jemma wants to fix everything. 

"It's not-" Can Bobbi even hear her? She'll get it, she has to get it. Her legs shake. When did they get so unsteady? 

"Sometimes you just have to go through." Bobbi gets it. She holds her tighter, making up for the trembling. 

"Why is she shaking?"

"It's normal." 

"Normal?" 

She doesn't mean to cry out. She can fold things away, compartmentalize. That's her job, it's what she does.

Not this. 

Fuck,

Her throat aches from silence, and it's funny how anything can sting through the fog of the rest of it. Fighting makes it harder, but Bobbi's not Phil. She moans, but it sharpens into a cry. She wasn't going to--

"Hey." He takes her elbow, sharing her weight with Bobbi. "Sorry."

"Do you want to?"

And then he picks her up. "We're going to the bed."

Does that mean they're almost done? Jemma's talking again and she can't focus. There's not an end, it's just going to have to hurt, and that's all there is. 

Phil sets her down on the bed, guiding her knees up. Some burns through, beyond the pain and the way her teeth won't stop chattering. Pressure. Something hard. She needs to, how does she--

"Okay, you get behind her, hold her up." 

He slips behind her, holding her between his knees. He guides her hands, helping her remember how they work. She's not cold anymore. 

"Phil--"

"You're almost there." He holds her tight, warm, sticky with her sweat, perhaps his own. "She'll be here soon."

She. 

"Where'd you--?" 

Then it clicks. "You smell like coffee."

"It's been a long--" he stops, and she dooesn't have to kill him. Phil kisses her hair. "You don't have to be strong for them."

Jemma's between her legs, Daisy holds the flashlight behind her head and Phil and Bobbi guide her shirt over her head. Phil tosses his aside as well and her back presses against his chest. 

Daisy's a little pale, and it smells faintly of blood. Hers. 

"Phil-" What is that sensation? Why does she want to grit her teeth? "What's-" 

He chuckles, squeezing her fingers. "You're going to push. I'm going to help you."

Finally she gets to do something. 

"Wait for the contraction, it's most effective if you work with your body." 

Waiting is hell. The pressure growing between her thighs has a bite to it: a burning. Pushing will help. It has to help. 

She cries out, with contraction. Damn things keep finding new levels. 

Daisy rubs her knee. "You're so close. Jemma can see her."

"Push."

What do they..? What muscles is that? What muscles does she even have control of anymore? Phil helps her sit up, murmurs into her neck, then she finds it. That sensation builds, crests, and then she's panting in the space between, collapsing against Phil. 

"That was excellent. Of course you're good at this. Wait, catch your breath, then you'll push again." 

"Did you think about names?"

What needs a name? 

"She wanted to see what she looked like first." 

Bobby takes her hand, smiling. "That seems like a good idea. Daisy has to forge her birth certificate anyway, so you have time."

"Take her other hand, help her lean forward," Jemma says to Daisy, then touches her thigh with her gloved hands. "Okay, use their hands, think about pulling yourself up and push with the contraction, you're almost there." 

Pressure stings, burning, and she sits up to push almost before the contraction even starts. Get it over with. 

"Wait."

"Fuck."

Daisy smirks, trying not to laugh. 

"Listen to Jemma."

"No, Phil, fuck--" 

He holds her tighter, hands on her thighs. "You don't want to tear, give it a minute."

"You can't push with this one."

She'd trade this desperate itching to take the pain back. She needs to push, the baby's right there. She growls, trying not to ignore all of them and just push because she has to push.

"Wait."

The burning grows as the contraction recedes. Jemma dovers it, something soft in her hands and it's not as bad. 

"Her head's right here so you need to let your body stretch around her. Find a way to focus, wait it out, next contraction you can push." 

She dreaded this fucking things a heartbeat ago and know she can't wait. Can't she just push now and get it over with? 

"Phil--"

"Wait for the contraction, let it work with you. I know you're the most patient person alive."

"No."

"Wait, Melinda, you can wait."

"I--"

Go with it. She gasps, breathing in like she's drowning. Hasn't she been lost? Bearing down, she tightens everything she has, shutting her eyes. 

Something slips. It's wet, she's wet and panting again. 

"I've got her head."

Daisy's eyes flash white. "Holy fuck."

"WAit--"

She's waited enough, Biting her lip, she pushes, ignoring them all because she can feel her. She's so close.

And then she's there. Jemma sets a wet, squirming, tiny creature on her chest and she wraps her arms around her. Phil guides her, his hands over hers. 

"There she is." 

She turns to him, trying to see his face, His tears join the sweat on her neck. Bobbi drops a blanket on top of the baby, brushing her cheek clean. The baby squaks, surprised by the air around her. 

"Hello little one."

Jemma sists back, tears in her eyes. "We'll give her a minute then you can cut the cord, Dad." 

Daisy mouths the word and grins, wiping her face. "She's so squishy."

And red and smooth and soft and her dark hair's stuck to her head.  The baby settles, flailing her arms before she sighs and the universe fits in her confused little eyes. 

"This is your dad." Melinda moves his hand, resting it on their daughter's tiny chest. "He's been waiting for you."

"Because your mom isn't actually good at waiting." 

"We waited enough." Her throat aches, raw like hr heart. "I see you."

"Oh she's more you, please."

Melinda sits up a little, trying to get more of the baby in the light. Her tiny arms are soft, so soft, and chubby. 

"When you're ready, mum, dad, I'd like to weigh her, but there's no rush." Jemma presses the sharp pair of shears into Phil's hands. "I've claimed the cord so you'll just need to cut it right here and she'll be free."

"The curfew starts now then," Daisy teases. "Look out, Baby Agent, mom's pretty strict." 

"Daisy-"

"She's beautiful."

Phil takes the baby, holding her so Melinda can hug Daisy tight, forgetting all about being naked and covered in mess, because it doesn't matter. Not now, maybe later she'll care, but it's hard to imagine that's important. The baby's important, family, her family, their family-- She came into so much love.

"I'm going to go tell Fitz."

"I'll weigh her when mom and dad here are ready."

How are they supposed to let her go? 

Phil passes her back, cradling her head. "She's perfect." 

"She's ours."

"Perfect is from you." 

She rolls her eyes and kisses the baby's head. "You can weigh her, Bobbi."

"Come here sweetheart." 

Phil leans back against the headboard, holding Melinda against his chest. They watch the baby's tiny feet kick in the blanket as the scale beeps. "I love you."

She takes the towel from Daisy, turning to look at his face before the baby comes back and she's all distracted. "This had to be with you," she says, too softly for anyone else to hear. "She needed to be ours."

"Yeah."

"I love you." She kisses him, crying into his cheek, resting her forehead on his. "Thank you."

"Melinda--"

"Shhhh."

And then she back, all soft and tiny. Her eyes are open now, wide and unfocused. "You have a great dad."

"You're mother's a superhero."

The baby wraps her fingers around Phil's finger. Her fingers can't possibly be that small, and they are. 

"We have so much to show you." 

[artificialqueens]

The Exhaustion One (Biadore) - Whiskey Neat

A/N: Finally finished this after 84 years. I have a lot of ideas for future fics and I have a couple of them partially written but I can never seem to put a whole story together in a reasonable amount of time so I’ll see y'all again in 84 more years when I decide to get my shit together and actually finish a story. In the meantime, enjoy this one! (also I apologize for the formatting of the last fic I submitted. Idk why it looked like that but hopefully this one won’t look the same)

Summary: Adore is tired and no one understands until she snaps.

Waking up at 5am was not something Adore Delano was prepared to be doing so often. It was exhausting. The early mornings had been going on for about a month, since she was on tour with a group of other drag race girls. Lately, they’d been having to do promotional stuff for later dates of the tour, which meant their call times had to be in the early hours of the morning as to not interfere with their shows in the evening. 

Today they had a photoshoot at 7am, which meant Adore had to get up at 5, be full drag by 6, and leave the hotel at 6:15 in a van full of drag queens who didn’t understand that she barely felt awake enough to even breathe until at least 10am. 

Adore woke up in a particularly bad mood. She wasn’t sure if it was the hangover or just the knowledge that she had to deal with such a long day lying ahead of her that made her so anxious and angry, but at this point, the thought of leaving her warm cocoon of blankets on the bed made her feel physically sick. 

Her phone vibrated on the bedside table signaling that Bianca was calling. Adore meant to hit ‘decline’ but hit ‘accept’ by accident and groaned into the speaker as a greeting. 

“Are you up?” Bianca asked. 

“Get fucked” Adore croaked and ended the call, slamming her phone back down on the table so hard the screen probably shattered but she didn’t care. That wouldn’t have been the first phone she broke this year.

She laid in bed for a few more minutes, wondering if she should fake sick or something so she could sleep for just one more hour but she knew Michelle would never fall for it. 

Wrapping a blanket around herself, she trudged to the vanity and fell into the chair, looking at her reflection in the mirror and trying to figure out how she could put the least amount of makeup on but still cover up how dead she looked. 

After having to wipe her eyebrows off and re-draw them about 3 times out of pure frustration, she finally finished her makeup. While she was getting dressed, her phone vibrated and lit up again. The clock read 6:17. Shit. She was late. A text from Bianca also showed on the screen. 

My Willow: “You better get your ass down here NOW. Michelle is pissed.“ 

Great. Now she’s never going to hear the end of it. Just what she needed today, right?

Adore rushed to put her favorite black wig on and throw a few things in her backpack, before pulling a sweatshirt on over her outfit and heading to the parking lot where everyone was waiting. 

“Adore, you have to be more responsible with these things. When I tell you to be out here at a certain time I expect you to actually be here instead of keeping us all waiting” Michelle scolded as soon as Adore was in sight.

“Yeah okay mom” She said in a flat tone. 

“Adore…” Bianca said, resting her hand on Adore’s shoulder to warn her that this wasn’t the time for her ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude. 

“Don’t touch me.” Adore snapped as she roughly shrugged Bianca’s hand off and got in the van, putting her sunglasses on and curling up in the back seat. 

“Damn, who shit in her cereal?” Detox asked, as Michelle and the other queens just silently looked at each other and shrugged before getting in the van themselves. 

Courtney and Bianca sat with Adore in the back seat, Bianca in the middle. 

Adore had her head resting against the cool window as they drove. Her hood was up and her sunglasses still on so Bianca had no way of reading her emotions without getting the younger queen’s attention. 

“Looks like someone’s really feeling her brat fantasy today” Bianca teased, nudging Adore’s side. 

Usually this would make Adore laugh, or at least crack smile, but today she just squeezed her crossed arms tighter against her body, trying to escape Bianca’s touch and go to sleep. 

“Yeah Adore, is it cause you didn’t get any dick last night?” Detox chimed in, wiggling her bright yellow eyebrows. 

Disappointed when Adore didn’t respond, Detox glanced at Bianca and shrugged, turning back to her conversation with Violet. 

“Adore, is everything okay?” Bianca whispered, poking her leg. Bianca decided she wasn’t going to stop annoying her until Adore either cheered up or told her what’s wrong. 

Adore on the other hand, was about to snap Bianca’s arm off. Every poke of Bianca’s finger into her fishnet covered thigh brought her one step closer to the edge of insanity. She thought she’d made it pretty clear that she didn’t feel like talking, so why couldn’t everyone just leave her alone? At this point, she honestly felt like crying. If Bianca didn’t stop soon she actually might, and ruining her makeup before an important photoshoot was the last thing she wanted to do today.

“I’m fine. Now can you stop?!” Adore whisper-shouted, grabbing Bianca’s hand roughly and setting it back in the older queen’s lap before crossing her own arms against her body again and returning to her original position. 

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Whatever queen” she said, giving up and keeping her hands to herself for the rest of the car ride. 

When the queens arrived at the building where the photoshoot was, they were ushered into a dressing room where they could touch up their makeup and have a few minutes to chill while the photographer got ready. 

All the other queens lost themselves in conversation with each other, talking and laughing loudly while Adore sat by her vanity in silence, adding more dark green lipstick to her plump lips. 

Soon, Bianca broke away from the group of talkative queens and walked towards Adore. She was going to try one more time to find out why her friend was so grumpy. 

As soon as Adore saw Bianca leave the group, she prayed to everything holy that the older queen wasn’t coming to talk to her. 

“Please don’t come over here, please don’t come over here, please don’t-”

“Adore?" 

"Fuck.”  

Adore didn’t look up, face hidden by her wig. She just closed the tube of Crocodile Tears lipstick and squeezed it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. 

“You’ve barely said one word all day, and every word you have said has been bitchy, which is MY gig by the way, and now you’re ignoring everyone. Do you want to tell me what the problem is?” Bianca asked. 

Adore’s breathing quickened and she closed her eyes. “Not now Bianca.” she begged in her mind. If Bianca continued she was definitely going to cry. 

“And don’t say you’re fine cause I know you’re not” Bianca pressed on. 

“Wow, what fucking genius” Adore thought. “Maybe if I keep ignoring her she’ll go away.”  

“Come on, you know you can tell me anything.” Bianca said, still seeing no reaction from Adore other than the younger queen’s body visibly shaking from how shallow her breaths were. She laid her hand on Adore’s shoulder in attempts to calm her. 

As soon as Adore felt Bianca’s hand touch her it was like she got struck by lightning. The dam broke and her face scrunched up as she let out a sob. Forcefully she pushed all the makeup off her vanity onto the floor with a loud crash as she stood up and stumbled backwards, running out of the room. 

The sudden outburst gained the attention of everyone, including Michelle who was entering the room at the same time Adore was exiting. 

“Whoever is responsible for…..that,” Michelle said, motioning out the door, “better go fix it." 

Everyone stared at Bianca. 

"NOW!” Michelle ordered when no one moved. 

Bianca rushed out of the room, asking a random person in the hallway if they had seen a 6 foot tall, crying drag queen run past here at any point, and surprisingly they had. The man pointed towards a hallway that led to a back lounge.

Heels clicking as she walked down the hall, Bianca hesitantly entered the room.

She spotted the younger queen curled up on a long red couch. Her eyes were closed and Bianca almost thought she was sleeping until those bloodshot green eyes slid open at the presence in the room.

“Pussyface? Can we talk please?” Bianca asked, slowly shuffling forward until she was a few feet from the couch.

Adore shook her head and sniffled, letting out a shaky sigh.

“I just wanna know what’s wro-“

Adore’s body shot up into a sitting position. “I seriously can’t deal with this right now Bianca, can you please just go?!” she pleaded, voice cracking at the end.

“Adore. What’s. Wrong.”

“GET OUT!”

“Just tell me!”

“…I’m tired, okay?! I’m so fucking tired I can’t even think anymore! I can’t remember the last time my head didn’t hurt or the last time I got more than 3 hours of fucking sleep per night! It’s so obvious that I feel like complete shit and you all just make fun of me for not being in a good mood. I can’t keep doing this, Bianca. I thought you, of all people, would understand but clearly you don’t, so just leave me alone and let me sleep….please Bianca just let me fucking sleep…” Adore begged through tears, body falling back onto the cushions.

Bianca heaved out a sigh. She knew that feeling; being worked so hard you can barely function. But this was normal for her. She was always working for months at a time with close to zero breaks. Adore on the other hand wasn’t used to this. Her gigs were usually at least a week or two apart with plenty of time to rest in-between.

Taking a few steps forward until she reached the couch, Bianca sat down on the edge in front of Adore’s stomach, because apparently she didn’t understand what the words “leave me alone” meant.

“I’m sorry” she started, reaching for one of Adore’s hands and holding it in hers. Adore didn’t fight this time. “I do understand how you’re feeling. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

Adore sighed deeply and gave Bianca’s hand a weak squeeze. “It’s okay” she whispered.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, the only motion in the room being Bianca’s thumb rubbing back and forth across Adore’s knuckles. The younger queen was slipping closer to unconsciousness as the explosive part of her breakdown finally melted back into exhaustion.

“Stay here and sleep. I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well and need to sit today out. We can talk more later” Bianca said, breaking the silence.

“Mhmm thanks Willow” Adore mumbled against the fabric of the couch. “M’sorry I yelled at you”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Seriously.” Bianca reassured, squeezing Adore’s hand once more before getting up from the couch.

“I love you”

“I love you too Pussyface”      

[beckzorz]

Out of Nowhere (2/21)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OFC Summary: An offhand comment at work draws Jesse Kaplan into the orbit of Bucky Barnes. Bucky’s excited at the prospect of normalcy, but there’s nothing normal about falling in love with the Winter Soldier. Words: 3577 A/N: HELLO FROM PART 2!!! Enter Bucky! :D And enter some unconventional formatting... A lot of this is drawn from my personal experiences, and a lot of my personal experiences involve texting my friends about what’s going on a hundred times a day XD (Sorry @kentuckybarnes​!) The song for this chapter is “Solitude” by Duke Ellington from In a Sentimental Mood. Hope you enjoy :3

PART 2: “SOLITUDE”

     Today, 6:38 PM

itsadrian: ahhh you look great!!!!! jesse.kaplan: Thanks :3333 jesse.kaplan: I’d feel better about this if I had a cocktail dress newer than the 1950s itsadrian: lol itsadrian: that’s what you get for only buying vintage clothes jesse.kaplan: My jeans are brand new Adrian… it’s my soul that’s the Real Old™ around here jesse.kaplan: don’t judge itsadrian: can’t help it itsadrian: at least it’s a nice one tho! the 50s are back in itsadrian: and black is classic itsadrian: i think if you went in a dress from the 40s you’d raise some Actual Old But Also Young™ eyebrows itsadrian: 50s seem pretty safe in comparison jesse.kaplan: don’t judge… but I had that same thought process haha itsadrian: SMART itsadrian: that’s why i keep you around :P jesse.kaplan: Well thank god otherwise I’d be having a panic attack on the metro which is never a great look jesse.kaplan: my roommate said it looked ok but I trust you more haha jesse.kaplan: oh geez here we go ttyl!! itsadrian: take a selfie with pepper potts!!!! byeeee

—

Jesse stuffed her phone in her clutch and adjusted its long strap across her body as she ran up the stairs to street level. The benefit was at a fancy hotel in Midtown, a block and a half from the subway. She was grateful she hadn’t given in to the urge to wear her fanciest shoes; her low black heels weren’t debilitating. Not yet, anyway. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too much standing in place.

She hummed jazz to herself as she walked briskly along, not meeting anyone’s gaze. Was it obvious where she was going, dressed up as she was? The benefit wasn’t hugely publicized, or at least she hoped it wasn’t. Sure, there might be a few supers there, but not the whole Avengers squad.

As soon as she rounded the corner, she sighed in relief. Though guests trickled in, the photographers corded off from the entry ignored them. No doubt they were waiting for the famous people.

Jesse hurried to the door, fished out the invite on her phone, and flashed it to the security guard as she went in. She heard sudden calls from the street, but the doors closed before she could see who was arriving.

Inside was cool, fancy—art deco carpeting, gilded columns, a gleaming reception desk. The odd tourist gawked; Jesse ignored them as best she could as she followed the directions of the smiling tuxedoed butler to the ballroom. She steeled herself and went inside.

Alright, so the room was gorgeous. A snazzy bar hugged the left wall, not far from the door, and a small raised stage complete with a Stark Foundation podium was on the far wall. Numbered tables set for ten took up much of the room, but there was a small area for schmoozing by the bar. Jesse brightened when she spotted the quartet just about to play—and a dance floor! Maybe they’d play some jazz, or swing…

Jesse deflated. She didn’t know anyone here.

“Excuse me,” someone said behind her, and Jesse apologized and made her way over to the bar, a vague smile fixed on her face. All she got was a water; no way was she drinking alcohol when she had to talk to strangers. She stood a few steps away from the bar, watching the few couples swaying to the music with a critical eye.

“Jesse?”

Jesse jumped and turned. A fellow dancer! Someone loved her tonight. “Mike! What are you doing here?”

“My company is getting a nod,” Mike said, grinning back down at her. He was pale and very tall—well over six feet—and wonderfully dressed, considering she’d only ever seen him in t-shirt and jeans. “You?”

“My colleague’s in the hospital, so I’m a last-minute replacement. She’ll recover,” Jesse added when Mike’s face screwed up. “If you’re here, I’m not sorry to have to replace her anymore though! How are you?”

“Pretty good, you?”

“Same old. Tired, but what else is new. Anyway, this isn’t exactly perfect music, but wanna dance?”

“Of course,” Mike answered.

Jesse chugged her water and left her empty cup and clutch at her table before hurrying back to Mike as a new song was starting. It had a better beat than the first song, and they snagged a spot near the band.

As soon as they starting pulsing to the music, Jesse’s lingering anxiety completely melted away. There was something magical about dancing with a good lead. Nothing else seemed to matter, and it was so easy to close your eyes and let yourself be led. And Mike was a very good lead.

Once they started doing more complex moves, where Mike was alternatively at arm’s length and swinging her around him, Jesse opened her eyes to avoid collisions. The song was good, predictable—they both hit a break in the music and grinned at each other.

Then Jesse recognized a face in the little crowd that was gathering around to watch them, and she couldn’t help but stare.

Sergeant Barnes.

His expression was severe, intense; his hair was pulled back tightly. Combined with a high forehead and his sharp suit, he looked two steps shy of terrifying. After a moment, he met her gaze. Jesse forced a smile and looked away, heat rising to her cheeks. She kept her eyes on Mike, only daring to look as far up as the onlookers’ collars when she wasn’t facing her friend.

The music was fun, her dancing was good, so why did the guy who had been so impressed by her work look so displeased with her now? Why couldn’t he smile like everyone else, and save her from being so worked up as to lose enjoyment in her one consolation tonight? She felt someone staring, cutting a line across her arms, her collarbone—she didn’t dare look to see if it was still him. She had to talk to him later.

The song finally ended, and Jesse thanked Mike with a customary hug. Some of the onlookers clapped, and Jesse warmed a little as she smiled shyly around at them. Barnes had vanished, thank god.

Jesse slipped away to get her cup, disturbed. She couldn’t think of Barnes like that; he’d done so much for BCEI. And Marilyn liked him. She took a breath to clear her head and arrived at her table.

Oh.

Well.

Sergeant Barnes was sitting next to her things. An old woman was chatting to him from his other side. Barnes glanced at her as she approached, but almost immediate turned his whole body to face her. His gaze was less severe than before; maybe the effect of his companion?

“Hello,” Jesse said, doing her best to maintain a genuine smile.

“Hey,” Barnes said. His voice was soft, a little melancholy, and not exactly friendly. Still, a big improvement.

Jesse slid into her seat and wrapped her hands nervously around her glass, which a waiter came by to refill. The tables were awfully crowded; there was no room to avoid Barnes' gaze without seeming rude. She took a steadying breath and looked back up at him as confidently as she could.

Okay, she knew he was ripped, but his face was oddly delicate. Maybe his sad eyes, or his mouth—Jesse cut herself off.

“I’m here for BCEI instead Marilyn,” she told him.

Barnes stiffened. His eyes narrowed as he leaned back a little to regard her with a suddenly terrifying demeanor. “Oh? What happened to Marilyn?”

“She broke her ankle,” Jesse blurted, her own eyes widening as his narrowed even further. “She’s alright though! Just a fall. A cat or… something. I’m sorry.”

“Bucky, contain yourself before you make this poor girl faint,” the old woman on Barnes' other side cut in. She leaned forward a bit and smiled, not unkindly, at Jesse. “You dance beautifully.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” Jesse said, cheeks hot. She stared into her water, trying to relax.

“I’m sorry,” Barnes said, low and repentant. “I was looking forward to seeing her.”

Jesse forced a little laugh. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too! She was looking forward to coming.”

“But you weren’t?” he asked. She looked up at that. He had his eyebrows raised a little, and she flushed anew. Was it so obvious?

“I only found out I was coming this morning,” she hedged. “I’ve never been to anything like this. I don’t think I’ll know if I should’ve looked forward to it until it’s over.”

He let out a rueful sigh. “Smart.”

Jesse sipped her water rather than agree with him. Far be it from her to tout her own intelligence. Though she couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking of. He had to be thinking of something specific. She wondered.

The old woman on Barnes' other side reclaimed his attention with what turned out to be a long-winded story. Jesse couldn’t help but admire his quiet attentiveness. Perhaps listening to other people was easier than talking for him? She often found it so among strangers.

Five minutes in, the band quieted. The rest of their table filled in as Pepper Potts mounted the stage, a hulking man in a suit close at her heels. Jesse tried to figure out who in the crowd was a donor and who, like her, was a beneficiary. It was easier with the women—the rich ones had nicer, blingier jewelry. The men… all wore suits.

Potts began her speech, silencing all other conversations. “Hi and welcome to Stark Industries’ annual benefit…”

Jesse listened, half attentive, as Potts introduced various people representing various organizations. Each one went on stage to applause and shook Potts’ hand (continued applause), made a short speech about their Good Works (followed by applause), and left the stage. Jesse began to tune it all out, but then she heard Barnes' name and perked up.

“—Sergeant James Barnes, for his work with the Brooklyn Children’s Education Initiative.”

A smattering of applause echoed through the room as Barnes stood. The couple across the table from Jesse paled as they stared at him in fresh realization. Had they really not recognized him? Jesse glanced around; the shock and whispers were poorly masked by polite clapping. Apparently he wasn’t as instantly recognizable as she’d assumed.

A sudden burst of panic flared in her gut. Would Barnes' checkered history color BCEI’s opportunities in the future? Had she made a mistake soliciting his help?

She stared anxiously around the crowd, then back to Barnes. He stepped nimbly between the tables and up the steps to the podium, shook Pepper Potts’ hand, and adjusted the mic to his six-foot frame.

“Thanks,” Barnes said. His voice was soft, round, and vaguely ironic, but he met her eyes from across the room and gave her a serious little nod. Surprised, Jesse nodded back, and Barnes looked up to the prompter. “The Brooklyn Children’s Education Initiative provides the opportunity for underprivileged kids in my hometown to be fully engaged with their education. Their after-school programs at schools around Brooklyn welcome students of all backgrounds. I was lucky enough to participate in a program about the Great Depression, and it was inspiring to watch the students take control of their own learning. BCEI is a great cause. Thanks, Pepper, and everyone else who enables them to continue their good work.”

Once he stepped back, Jesse relaxed. It was so obviously scripted that she felt no qualms in only clapping as long as most others. It wasn’t any skin off his back if she didn’t give a standing ovation for her own organization.

Best of all, the speech completely sidestepped his questionable past.

When Barnes made it back to the table, Jesse smiled up at him briefly, finally at ease about her attendance. She was done! BCEI had done its part. As soon as the rest of the speeches were done, she could leave, dance with Mike, make small talk—

Well, hopefully not small talk.

As the next speech went underway, Jesse looked through the crowd for Mike, finally spotting him a few tables away next to a middle-aged blond woman. Mike was busy watching the speech, but the woman eventually glanced Jesse’s way. Jesse gave a little smile and looked back to the stage, embarrassed.

Pepper Potts finished her closing statements and left the stage (to applause) as the band picked back up. Jesse turned at last to Barnes and cleared her throat.

Once he turned to her, she said, “Thank you for your speech.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. He took a sip of his drink; Jesse realized he too was just drinking water, and wondered why. Habit, or necessity?

“I don’t know your name,” Barnes said suddenly.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m Jesse.”

He studied her face. “You apologize a lot,” he said. “Why?”

“I dunno, Jewish guilt?”

“Ha.” Barnes said, but he was not smiling.

Of course—he’d worked for Nazis. Jesse winced.

“Alternatively, bad parenting?” she offered.

Barnes gave a tiny smile—his first all night. Jesse almost cheered.

“Hi, Jesse.”

Jesse spun in her seat. “Mike! Hi!” She smiled up at her friend. Mike glanced at Barnes with muted curiosity.

“Wanna dance?” he asked.

She smiled and jumped to her feet. Let Barnes be awkward at someone else. “Take a guess.”

–

Jesse danced with Mike for a single glorious song. When a stranger asked her to dance, she accepted, but instantly regretted it. She smiled tensely the whole time, using as much force as she dared to keep her shoulder from popping out of its socket. Once the song was over, she fled back to Mike with a relieved sigh.

While they were dancing, someone kicked the back of Jesse’s ankle. She stumbled with a wince; Mike gripped her elbow, steadying her.

“I’m sorry! Are you okay?” she asked automatically, turning to face whoever had stepped on her.

It was Barnes, dancing with the old woman from their table. His face was pinched, but as she spoke his expression grew incredulous.

“I kicked you,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Of course, it happens all the time,” Jesse said. She rolled her ankle, containing a wince. Barnes just stared at her. She smiled, hoping to diffuse—reassure him. “So I’ll have a bruise! It’s the cost of doing business. Not a big deal. You’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, still looking at her as though she had two heads.

“Good,” Jesse said. She nodded with finality and turned back to Mike. As they finished out the song, she occasionally met Barnes' eyes. It was hard to look friendly under the force of his confusion, especially as she considered the necessity of asking after the well-being of someone who had not been hurt when that someone was a supersoldier.

Of course Barnes was fine. He was engineered to be fine.

Physically, anyway. Who knew what was going on in his head.

The song ended—Mike timed a dip perfectly—and Jesse hugged him and turned to get some water.

“Would you like to dance?”

Jesse blinked up at Barnes. He stood in her way, his gloved hand held out to her. She looked down at it, then back to him. Why was he asking? Out of politeness? He’d been more confounded by her than anything…

More importantly, did she actually want to dance with him? Would he hurt her? He didn’t seem to know how to express himself in public. Did that translate to dancing?

Well, the old woman had finished her dance with him in one piece, so she probably would too.

“Okay,” she said finally, and put her hand in his.

The corners of his mouth turned up, though she wouldn’t call it a smile exactly. He put his other arm—his flesh-and-bones arm—under hers and across her back, drawing her in so close that her nose brushed his jacket until she turned her head aside. She let out a shallow breath and tried to relax as the music started, simple and slow and gentle. His muscles shifted with his movements, and a sudden flush spread over her face as she realized how close they were. Jesse swallowed. Should she try to make conversation? Should she just bear the silence? What would they even talk about? They’d covered all the normal things back at the table…

“You dance real well,” Barnes said suddenly.

Jesse hummed her thanks and smiled despite herself. If someone who had lived through the actual swing era thought she was doing a good job even when she was so damn uncomfortable, she had to be good.

He moved them a little apart and studied her. “And you look… a little out of place.”

“What?!” Jesse laughed, too bewildered to be offended.

“Your dress is out of time. It’s, um…” Barnes frowned. His gloved hand clenched around hers, and her smile fell flat. Her heart twisted at his obvious confusion. God, no wonder he’d stared at her! He couldn’t place her. Captain America had missed everything for all the years he was missing, but the Winter Soldier… hadn’t.

Her face burned. How could she have been so self-centered? Every concern she’d had about Barnes had been all about her, not him. So what if he was awkward, or intimidating? Hadn’t he suffered enough? Hadn’t he earned the right to be free of her judgment?

“It’s from the fifties,” Jesse said at last, glancing at their clasped hands as his hold tightened again. He loosened his grip, chagrined.

“I thought so,” he said. “But—”

“My hair’s very much not fifties,” she added. “That might have thrown you off?”

Barnes tilted his head as he regarded her. She tried not to squirm, but being stared at by a man trying to piece her various incongruent parts together made her flesh crawl. It felt like an eternity before he was satisfied.

“Right,” he said. He let out a breath between his teeth and drew her back in, settling his arm securely around her. “Thank you.”

His mouth was by her ear, and the quiet warmth of his words sent a sudden shiver through her. Unable to speak, she just nodded.

How could such a strange, displaced man make her feel his presence with nothing more than a simple thank you? Dancing with him was so different from dancing with all the other leads she knew. With them, she had familiarity, comfort… There was comfort here too—he knew what he was doing, no question—but it was spiced with something dark. However awkward he was in conversation, they weren’t limited by that now. Behind that uncomfortable veneer, Barnes was dangerous. Somehow, that thrilled her.

Jesse sighed and closed her eyes, trying not to melt into Barnes’ solid hold. Her efforts must have been in vain, as he tightened his arm around her ever so slightly. She expected him to put her back to a safe distance, but… he didn’t.

Well, she’d take it. Whatever danger he posed to his enemies, right now he wasn’t hurting anyone.

The rest of the song passed in a pleasant blur. When it was over, Jesse hesitated before stepping back. Barnes had gone still, but he let her pull away without resistance.

“Thank you,” Jesse said. She smiled tentatively up at him.

Barnes didn’t answer; his eyes were dark and his shoulders tense. He stared down at her, unblinking. Jesse bit her lip, unable to look away. After a tense moment, he let out a quick breath, nodded sharply, and stalked away.

Jesse stood immobilized on the dance floor until Mike came by with his own water.

“You okay, Jesse?” he asked.

“I think so,” she said. She shook off the strange aftereffects of her dance with Barnes. “I think I’m going to head out. It was great seeing you! Will you be at the dance on Thursday?”

“I should be,” Mike said. He gave her a quick hug. “Bye.”

“See ya.”

Jesse made her way back to her table, still half in a daze as she gathered her clutch and wove her way back to the door. She was almost there when someone put a firm hand on her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

It was Barnes. His face was back to its normal solemnity, but Jesse flushed all the same at the sudden memory of being held against him.

“Where is Marilyn staying?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m sorry. I can find out,” she offered reflexively, then frowned. “Although I don’t know how to get in touch with you.”

“Give me your phone,” he said. “Unlocked.”

Jesse blinked and did as he asked. There was no arguing with that tone of voice. Barnes started a new text, and Jesse raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you worried I’d give your number to someone else?”

He gave her a dry look, but paused. “Are you going to?”

“No…”

“So I’m not worried.” He sent the text and passed her phone back to her. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Jesse tucked her phone away, bewildered. “You and Marilyn must have really hit it off.”

“She’s great. No nonsense, no judgment.”

Jesse bit the inside of her lip. “I suppose so.”

Barnes’ eyes narrowed at once. “What do you mean?”

“Oh—well, everyone’s judgmental. It’s just that Marilyn is usually right, so it’s not so obvious. Or annoying. At least for sensible folk. You know.”

Barnes smiled, his face transformed into something sweet and warm. Jesse couldn’t help but smile back.

[purrincess-chat]

More Than Just a Friend CH4

Okay, I hope that the formatting is fixed now...Anyway, if you missed it the first time, here is chapter 4 of my fic for Adrinette April. It is a combo of days 9-12 and features some jealous!Adrien and wise older brother!Luka, so hopefully you like it ><

Read on AO3

Chapter 4

Adrien drummed his fingers on the table, his cup rattling a little from the vibration, and he glanced around once more. It wasn’t like her to run late, so he wondered if she’d gotten held up. She was always punctual and never missed a planned meeting, but maybe his nerves were just making him a bit antsy. He took another sip of his coffee, supposing that it probably wasn’t helping his fidgeting problem much either.

The screech of the chair across from him against the pavement broke his trance, and he glanced up to see Kagami settling in and cocking a brow. “You rang?”

“Uh, yeah…” He said, tapping his fingertips together as she crossed her legs. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh yeah?” She picked up the cup he’d ordered for her prior to her arrival and took a sip. “About what?”

“Well,” He drawled, shifting in his seat and averting his gaze. “You were right.”

“I often am, but about what in particular this time?” She rested her chin on her hands with a smug grin that told him she knew darn well what.

“About Marinette…how I feel about her,” He said, running a hand along the back of his neck. “You could tell from the moment you met me, couldn’t you?”

“That you were in love with her?” She cocked a brow, and he gave a small nod. “Yeah, it was obvious. You speak very highly of her, and your pupils dilate when she gets brought up.”

“I never realized before because there was…someone else, but lately we’ve just been spending so much time together and…I dunno, it just kind of hit me.” He trained his eyes on his cup while he spoke, flicking his gaze up to meet hers when he finished and shrugging.

“So now what are you going to do?” Kagami asked, lacing her fingers together neatly on the table.

“Well, the school dance is coming up, and Kitty Section is performing a song. I’m hoping to tell her how I feel after we perform. I don’t want to wait around again, hoping and pining. I want her to know so that maybe we can be more than just friends,” He said, pressing his lips into a determined line.

“I’m happy for you, Adrien,” Kagami said with a genuine smile. “And I’m sure she feels the same way about you.”

His cheeks flushed at that, and he rubbed the back of his head nervously. “You really think so?”

“You’re a hot teen model, and you’re asking me if I think a girl likes you?” She chuckled, giving him a bewildered look.

“Well, Marinette doesn’t care about that kind of stuff. She looks at the person underneath…It’s just one thing that I like about her.” A warm smile curled on his lips as he entered a dreamy trance, and Kagami made a gagging sound.

“Okay, I don’t need all the gushy details, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She waved it away, sticking her tongue out in disgust. “Just be your usual self, and I’m sure everything will go fine.”

“Thanks, Kagami.” Adrien grinned, taking her hand and pulling her up with him. “I’m really glad you and I became friends.”

“Yeah, me too.” She returned the smile, stepping in for a quick hug. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” He stepped back, his grin taking a playful turn. “And if you ever need advice you can come to me.”

“Gross.” She pressed her lips into a firm line, waving as Adrien dashed off.

That boy really was something, but she was happy for him and Marinette. They’d be good for each other, and she couldn’t wait to tell the other girls the news.

***

The dance was still an hour away, and Adrien trailed his thumb along his lucky charm as he often did when nervous. The band had rehearsed a few times then took a break to help set up, and he was just ready for Marinette to get there. He couldn’t wait to see her and tell her how he felt, but the timing had to be just right. If he wanted to impress her, he needed to pull out all the stops, so purrhaps he needed to borrow a little confidence from his other persona. Though he couldn’t be too Chat-like as it might give away his identity. Plus, he didn’t want to overwhelm her and make her uncomfortable.

“Whatcha got there?” He jumped at the sound of Luka’s voice and turned to see him tuning his guitar on stage.

“Oh, this?” He jingled the charm a little. “It’s a lucky charm that Marinette gave me. I carry it with me wherever I go.”

“That girl is so awesome. I’ve wanted to see her again ever since the music festival, but she hasn’t come by.” Luka’s cheeks flushed a little, and Adrien narrowed his eyes. “I can’t wait to see her tonight. I was actually thinking about asking her to dance, but I dunno…I don’t go to school here, so it might be a little weird. What do you think?”

Adrien felt his stomach clench, an unsettling feeling rooting itself in his core. Something about Luka’s smile made his shoulders tense, and he closed his fist around the charm tightly. Of course someone else would like Marinette. She was talented and kind and wonderful, but Luka barely knew her. He had only just scratched the surface of how genuine, selfless, and smart she was, so Adrien wasn’t about to let him get in the way.

As he opened his mouth to speak, Rose called for Luka to come help them set up the sound system, so he clamped it shut again as Luka walked away. It was fine. He’d known Marinette way longer, and they were very good friends. He had nothing to worry about. What did Luka have to offer? Sure he was older, taller, his voice was deeper, and he was the lead guitarist in a bad…

Oh no.

Luka was literally every 14 year old girl’s dream, and he was just the keyboard player. No girls ever wanted to hang around the keyboard player! Why was he so lame? He needed to step up his game if he wanted to be the one confessing to Marinette at the end of the night. First and foremost, he had to find a way to keep Luka away from Marinette, and to do that, he was going to need help.

“Kagami!” He ambushed her the moment she walked in the door, grabbing her arm and pulling her aside. “I need your help.”

“No, I am not going to shower you and Marinette with rose petals as you confess,” She said firmly, and Adrien shook his head.

“That is not what I was going to ask.”

“Good, cause I wouldn’t do it.” She glared.

“What- no, I need you to keep Luka away from Marinette,” He said, pressing his palms together in front of him pleadingly.

“Who’s Luka?” Her eyebrows furrowed, and Adrien wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leaning around the corner to point him out on stage. “And why am I keeping him away from Marinette?”

“Because he’s cool, and he plays guitar, and he likes her, and I don’t want him to make moves on her because then she’ll fall in love with him and forget all about me. Adrien? Who is that? Never heard of him. Luka and I are getting married and having 6 babies and-” Kagami placed a hand over his mouth to silence him, giving him a worried look. “Sorry. Just keep him distracted?”

“Fine, but I don’t work for free,” She said, folding her arms over her chest.

“What do you want?” He cocked a brow.

“I’ve been craving taiyaki like crazy, but it’s impossible to find red bean paste in Paris, and the shipping to import it is ridiculous-”

“Done.” Adrien held out a hand, and Kagami shook it with a grin.

“Then you don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll keep him far away from Marinette, and the two of you can dance the night away,” Kagami promised with a formal bow.

“Perfect.” He rubbed his hands together, blending into the crowd forming out on the floor.

There was no sign of Marinette yet, but it was still early. If he knew her well enough, she’d come running in late and out of breath like she always did. Which did buy him some time to think of how to confess to her. He’d rehearsed several different deliveries in his mind the night before, but he couldn’t decide which one was best. He supposed that he would just have to follow his heart in the moment.

“Hey, Adrien, we’re getting set up for our performance,” Ivan said, tapping his shoulder.

“Oh, y-yeah sure.” He took one last glance at the door before joining the rest of the band by the stage. Marinette was running unusually late, even for her. Any longer and she’d miss their performance.

He glanced at Luka, chatting with Ivan and Mylene, and felt his skin crawl. He knew he was just being jealous, but he couldn’t bear to lose Marinette now. She was incredible and supportive, and he’d already taken too long with Ladybug before. This time he just wanted to be upfront, and it seemed as if fate was pulling him away from anyone he showed the slightest bit of interest in. Didn’t he deserve to be happy too?

“Hey, Marinette!” Rose said as she approached with Alya, and Adrien’s head snapped up at the mention of her name.

“Hey!” Marinette greeted, stooping to exchange kisses.

She looked beautiful in her hand-made dress with her hair hanging loosely around her shoulders, and Adrien felt a tug at his heart strings the moment he laid eyes on her. Her smile was so radiant, and he could have stared all night if it weren’t for the boy standing next to him. Luka seemed to perk up in light of her presence too, but Adrien beat him to the punch.

“Hey, Marinette.” She turned to him with a smile, and he planted a kiss on each of her cheeks. “Glad you could make it.”

“Are you guys ready to perform?” She asked.

“Yeah, we’ve been practicing all week,” Ivan affirmed with a grin. “And we’ve toned back the volume so you won’t need ear plugs this time.”

“I think you’ll really like this first song,” Luka spoke up finally, and Marinette train her eyes on him much to Adrien’s annoyance. “I was thinking of you when I wrote the guitar part. Your bravery inspired me after you helped out when my mom was akumatized.”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed as the others cooed in unison, and Adrien’s anger only flared hotter. This guy was good. Really good. Adrien was going to have to try a lot harder if he hoped to win her over.

“I-It was nothing. I mean, akumas happen all the time, so I guess I’m used to it,” She stammered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears. “Besides, I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing while you all were trapped down there.”

Her modesty was extremely cute considering she never took compliments with a straight face, but she deserved to know how amazing she was; however, Adrien wasn’t about to let Luka snake his way in so easily. He’d known her longer, so he appreciated her way more than Luka ever could. It was time to turn up the charm.

“Marinette is always helping others. She has a heart of gold,” He added, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I think we’re all lucky to be her friends.”

“Definitely!” Rose echoed, and the others all nodded in agreement.

“You guys, I really don’t do that much.” She rubbed the back of her neck, and Adrien slid his hand down her arm to take her hand.

“You do. There are times when all of us could have been akumatized, sometimes for the second time, but you were there to help us. You’re always so positive and supportive, Marinette.” Her spine stiffened under his fond gaze, and she shifted her weight anxiously.

“I-I, uh, well, it’s not, I mean- I don’t, you-” She seemed to have become over stimulated again, so he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Wow, seems like you’re even more incredible than I thought. I guess I’ll be writing more songs in the future,” Luka said with a smile, and Marinette sputtered a few more incoherent syllables before Mlle. Bustier announced that it was time for their performance.

Adrien forced his shoulders to relax as his band mates all retreated to the stage, but he lingered a moment, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to work you up. I just really think you deserve every word of praise. Just relax and enjoy the show, okay?” He said with a warm smile that reflected on her own face after a moment.

“Um, break a leg,” She said as he backed toward the stairs.

“I’ll be fine so long as I have this.” He held up his lucky charm with a wink as Rose announced their name to the crowd, turning and making the last couple strides to his keyboard quickly.

Alya wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulders as the song started, and she leaned against her for support. Her legs felt like gelatin, and her face was hot and flushed. Her compass was spinning wildly out of control, and she had no idea how to stop it. Each time she looked at Luka, her heart sputtered in her chest, but when she looked at Adrien, her palms felt clammy and her breath hitched in her throat, making it hard to breathe. The two boys she could hardly function around in one place, showering her with compliments. She wasn’t sure what exactly she’d done to deserve it, but she was almost certain that she was in heaven.

“Any idea which one you prefer yet?” Alya asked in her ear, and she shook her head.

“Maybe I can decide tonight,” She replied, cupping her hands over her heart. “I mean, Adrien said all of those things about me and still carries my lucky charm, but I know he only sees me as a friend. And Luka wrote a song about me…I don’t know, Alya!”

She buried her face in her friend’s shirt, and Alya patted her back sympathetically. She’d just have to spend time with both of them and figure out who she wanted to be with more. The only problem with that plan was the whole spending time with both of them without foaming at the mouth part.

“I’ll help you. Whenever you want to talk to Luka alone, I’ll distract Adrien and vice versa,” Alya said, patting her shoulders. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Marinette nodded, pressing her lips together in a firm line.

“So, who should we start with?” Alya cocked a brow, and they shifted their gaze to the boys on the stage.

“I haven’t seen Luka since the music festival last month, so it would be nice to catch up with him,” She decided, and Alya nodded dutifully.

“Perfect. I’ll rope Nino into helping keep Adrien occupied. You go after your dark knight.” The two high-fived, ready to spring into action the moment the performance was over.

It was hard for Marinette to keep her focus throughout the song as Luka often stole coy glances at her as he played, and she felt her cheeks flush each time their eyes met. He’d written a song just for her…That meant he liked her, right? But then there was Adrien, who smiled and winked any time she glanced his way, and he seemed to be getting much friendlier with her lately too. Could she be imagining it all? She wasn’t entirely certain, but she did know that both of these boys made her heart stir. This was going to be harder than she thought.

“Thank you, everyone!” Rose cheered over the mic, and Alya tugged Marinette’s arm, snapping her out of her trance as they moved around to meet the band as they exited the stage.

“Hey, Adrien,” Alya started as he descended the stairs. “Can you help me and Nino with something really quick?”

“Uh, now?” He shifted his gaze between Marinette and Alya, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, it’ll just take like two seconds.” She waved it away, linking her arm through his and toting him off.

“O-kay?” Adrien turned back to see Luka approach Marinette, feeling his stomach flip nervously. Whatever it was that Alya needed, he needed to do it fast.

“You sounded awesome. I mean, the band sounded awesome, well, I- you sounded awesome too, but what I meant to say was-” Marinette fumbled, and Luka chuckled good-naturedly.

“You’re tongue-tied as ever, I see, Ma-Ma-Marinette,” He said with an amused grin. “I should teach you how to play guitar. Then we can communicate without words.”

“Yeah, totally! I’d like that.” Her cheeks darkened under her nervous smile, and Luka rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, so this is where you go to school?” He glanced around the courtyard, and Marinette followed his gaze.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Every day.” She nodded, clasping her hands together to keep them from fidgeting. “I’m actually class representative.”

“I remember Juleka mentioning that. She was happy when you ran instead of…Chloe?” He tilted his head to the side a little, and Marinette nodded in affirmation. “I think it’s brave of you to stand up to her like that. Your classmates must really respect you, especially if you’re always helping them out like Adrien said.”

“I just try to keep everyone positive. With Hawkmoth making akumas all the time, it’s important that we not let our emotions get the better of us…” Her voice trailed off under Luka’s warm smile, and she averted her gaze, twirling a strand of hair anxiously. “So, what about you? You’re in lycee, right?”

“Yeah, second year.”

Meanwhile, Adrien stood across the courtyard with his arms folded over his chest as Nino and Alya explained their “thing” to him. He kept stealing glances back at Marinette and Luka flirting like their lives depended on it and feeling his shoulders tense more and more. Kagami was chatting with some of their teammates, and Adrien waved his arm to catch her attention, pointing purposefully at the Luka-Marinette situation happening. She followed his finger and rolled her eyes, nodding her head in agreement to take care of it before politely excusing herself to get more juice.

“So, uh, yeah, the thing that I need you to do is help me rewire my set up. It’s all kind of a mess, and I need your help,” Nino explained, gesturing to the tangled cords underneath his turntable.

“Is this really necessary right now? I mean, your set up works, right?” He cocked a skeptical brow.

“Well, yeah, but it would be super awesome if you could help me to-”

“Hey, Max?” Adrien turned and flagged him down from the snack table with Kim. “Nino needs some help organizing his cables. Do you think you could help?”

“Excellent! I always love a good organizing project.” Max rubbed his hands together excitedly, and Adrien patted his shoulder.

“There you go, Nino. Have fun!” He finger gunned, backing away slowly.

“But we really need you-” Alya tried, but he was already gone.

Across the way, Marinette was loosening up, and she and Luka were engrossed in a conversation about the album Marinette designed for Jagged Stone. As it turned out, Luka was just as awkward as she was at times, so it made her feel a lot more confident speaking to him.

Kagami eyed the pair with pursed lips, casually sauntering over without looking until she collided with Luka, spilling her drink down his shirt.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She gasped, cupping a hand over her mouth before linking an arm through his and leading him off. “Here, let me help you get cleaned up.”

“Okay, no worries,” He said, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Marinette waved him on with an understanding nod, jumping a little at the tap on her shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Adrien said, and she felt her spine stiffen under his apologetic wince.

“N-No, it’s okay,” She insisted, waving frantically. “So, you guys sounded really great up there.”

“Thanks. Being in the band is a lot of fun. You should come hear us rehearse sometime,” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I mean, I’d like it if you would.”

“I’d love to. If I wouldn’t be in the way, that is,” She said, twirling her thumbs.

“No, not at all! Mylene comes to hang out all the time because Ivan is there, so if you wanted to come hang out for me then I’m sure everyone wouldn’t mind,” He assured her, surveying her reaction, seemingly pleased when she smiled brightly.

“Then I’ll have to stop by sometime,” She agreed, and he felt a slight wave of triumph.

“So, you and Luka seem to get along,” He said, fishing a little.

“Do you think so? He’s really sweet, but I can never get my words right around him.” She rubbed the back of her neck, and he pursed his lips.

“Does he make you uncomfortable?” He asked, cocking a brow, but she shook her head.

“No, it’s not that. I just get nervous because he’s older and I dunno, kind cool…” She twisted her dress in knots, and he masked his scowl before she could notice.

“Yeah, it’s a shame he’ll be graduating and moving on after next year.” He pursed his lips and shrugged.

“That’s true…”She seemed to deflate a little, so Adrien steered the conversation.

“But at least we’ll still have each other,” He said with a shrug, and she perked up again to his delight.

“I hope we’re in the same class again in lycee.” Her smile made his heart stir a little, and he felt himself blush, delighted that she wanted to remain close to him. Of course, she was his friend so it was to be expected, but it was still nice to hear nonetheless.

“Me too.” He glanced up as a slow song started over the speakers, a grin spreading across his lips as he took her hand. “Would you like to dance?”

“I- Y-Yeah.” She nodded, and he tugged her off to the dance floor where other couples were gathering.

He spotted Luka exiting the locker rooms and purposefully pulled her close, placing both of his hands on her waist as they began to sway with the music. Marinette seemed to stiffen a little but soon relaxed enough to lean her head against his shoulder, and Adrien held her close, heart hammering in his chest. It almost felt like a dream, but for once, he was lucky enough for it to be real. For a few short moments, everyone else in the room disappeared, and he and Marinette were the only ones dancing. He only wished that the moment could last forever, but all good things had to come to an end sometime.

“Um, you’re a great dancer,” She said timidly as the song changed.

“So are you.” He smiled warmly. “Do you want to get some fresh air with me for a few minutes?”

“Sure.”

Everything was going according to plan, and in just a few minutes, Marinette would forget all about Luka. Or rather, things were going well until a certain guitarist approached quickly, standing between them and the door.

“Oh, hey, Luka,” Marinette said with a smile, and Adrien noted the contemplative purse to his lips. “Did you get cleaned up okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Actually, Marinette, I think Alya was looking for you.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest and casting a pointed look at Adrien who bristled instinctively. “It sounded pretty important, you should go find her.”

“Really?” She tilted her head to the side. “I better go see what she needs. I’ll meet you outside, Adrien.”

“Uh, sure…” He nodded, swallowing hard as she walked away, leaving him alone with Luka. “Soo, the performance went well.”

“Yeah, it did.” Luka nodded curtly.

“I think the crowd really liked it, and Ivan’s drum solo was the best he’s ever-”

“Can we talk about how your friend has been trying to distract me from talking to Marinette while you monopolize her attention?” Luka asked boldly, and Adrien felt his gut clench.

“I- what do you mean?” He responded lamely.

“I didn’t think much of it at first, but she kept giving me the run around then I see you dancing with Marinette…If there’s something going on between you two, you could have just told me.” Luka’s gaze cut through him like a knife, and Adrien curled his shoulders a little in response.

“I- Look, the thing is…I was planning on telling Marinette how I feel about her tonight, and you seem to like her too, so-”

“So, you just decided to cut me out instead of talking to me?” He cocked a brow. “Do you even know if Marinette reciprocates your feelings?’

Adrien averted his gaze guiltily, and Luka let out a short laugh.

“You don’t. That’s why you’re worried about me,” He stated flatly.

“It’s nothing personal, Luka. I just really like her-”

“Last time we talked, she was just a friend to you.” Luka cut him off.

“Well, yeah, we’ve been friends for a long time. Longer than you’ve known her, and I just feel like I know her better so I should get to be with her.” Adrien felt his blood boil when Luka shook his head, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“That’s not for you to decide, Adrien,” He said, folding his arms over his chest. “Have you ever stopped to consider what Marinette might want or were you too busy thinking of yourself?”

“I-” His voice caught in his throat, a heavy pressure filling his chest and choking his air.

“Jealousy happens, Adrien, but you can’t make choices for other people. Tell her your feelings, fine, but then let her decide what she really wants,” Luka said firmly, and he felt his shoulders slump before he shifted his gaze to his feet.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I was only thinking about what I wanted, and…that’s not fair to you or Marinette.” He rubbed at the goose bumps on his arm. “So, if you want to dance with her then…go ahead.”

Luka surveyed his expression for a moment before a smile curled on his lips, and he patted Adrien’s shoulder. “Look, don’t beat yourself up too hard. You’re young and inexperienced. Just let this be a lesson for you, and no matter who she chooses, me, you, or even neither of us…no hard feelings.”

“Yeah, no hard feelings.” He nodded with an apologetic wince, but Luka extended a hand in good faith which Adrien shook after a moment of hesitation.

“I won’t tell Marinette about tonight, but I think you should do some soul searching and decide what you want on your conscience,” Luka said, leaning into his ear. “You’re a good kid, Adrien, and if I know anything about Marinette, it’s that she appreciates honesty.”

Adrien swallowed at the lump in his throat as Luka straightened, and Marinette paced back over with a bewildered expression.

“It was weird, Alya didn’t know what I was talking about when I asked what she wanted,” She said, gesturing back with her thumb.

“Oh, weird. Maybe it was someone else then.” Luka tapped his chin as another slow song came on, and he and Adrien exchanged glances. With a deep breath, Adrien gave him a nod, and Luka extended a hand to Marinette. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Oh…” She glanced at Adrien guiltily, but he waved it away.

“I’ll be fine. You go ahead,” He said, watching with tortured eyes as Luka led her away from him, and slowly, he turned and made his way out to the front steps.

His heart hammered in his chest as he sank down onto one of the steps and leaned his elbows on his knees. Luka had seen right through him, and Adrien had never been so ashamed. He had been selfish and jealous, and it ate at him from the inside out.

Marinette was so important to him, and all he wanted was to hold her tight and never let go. But he hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe that wasn’t what she wanted. Or maybe he did, and the thought was just so unbearable that he wanted desperately to prevent it. Either way, it wasn’t fair to anyone involved. If she wanted to be with Luka then Adrien would have to begrudgingly accept it, even if it did break his heart.

“We got caught.” The voice belonged to Kagami, and he turned to see her sitting down beside him, adjusting her dress purposefully. “That Luka is one perceptive dude.”

“Yeah, looks like he outsmarted us,” Adrien remarked glumly.

“You okay?” She cocked a brow and nudged him a little with her elbow.

“Not really. My heart hurts, and I was trying to control Marinette which is wrong. Maybe she is better off with Luka.” He kicked at the ground a little with his shoe, and Kagami pursed her lips.

“So, you’re not perfect. Big whoop, I could have told you that.” Adrien glanced up at her to find that teasing smile. “People make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean they stop deserving love. Isn’t that what Mlle. Bustier teaches? That’s why all of us put up with Chloe, right?”

Adrien chuckled at that. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Look, I shouldn’t tell you this, but…Marinette likes you. And I mean likes you likes you, but she also likes Luka. If you want her to choose you, then you just have to be your usual naïve little sunshine boy self and let her decide.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good person, Adrien. You just got jealous, and Marinette has a big heart. I’m sure she can relate more than you think. I mean, she was actually jealous of me when I came here because she thought you were going to fall in love with me.”

“Really?” His eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yes, but she knows that your heart is your own, and she just determined to keep trying her best to get you to notice her,” Kagami said, and he shifted his gaze back to his shoes. “Talk to her. Tell her how you feel, and I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Thanks, Kagami.” He smiled. “You’re a good friend.”

“Don’t go falling for me. Because you’re so not my type.” She winked, and he threw his head back with a laugh.

“Nah, if I’m being honest, you kind of scare me…” He admitted.

“Good. It keeps you on your toes.” She patted his shoulder. “By the way, I come with an advice fee, so you owe me so many imported goods.”

“Pfft, fair enough,” He chuckled. “Can I open a tab?”

“Yeah, but you better start paying or else I’ll have to beat you up.” She grinned devilishly, helping him to his feet.

“Don’t you already?” He asked.

“Yeah, but this time it won’t be with a saber.” She shrugged, and he linked his arm through hers with a laugh.

He glanced over to where Marinette was swaying to the beat with Luka, a content smile curled on her lips, and felt his stomach twist, but she looked happy so it wasn’t his place to interfere. If he wanted to win her over, he’d just have to turn up the charm and let her choose on her own. He could only hope that it would be him holding on to her in the end.

[rey-skywalkin-away]

Kanera Fix-It Fic I was Talking About

Y’all thought I was joking when I said I had 3000 words of a fic all lined up to fix this, right? GUESS AGAIN. 4117 WORDS. I had to delete 90% of my original 3000 words and re-write it just now to conform to what happened in the midseason premiere, and it took me four hours, but I did it! Anyway, I put myself into the queue to make an archiveofourown account, but that’ll take a month to activate, so until then, I’ll just post this chapter-by-chapter on here. I got part 1 done tonight, and it might be a few days before chapter 2: I have college life and work that’s going to be occupying my time this week. But I’m not abandoning this. I am FUELED BY PAIN. 

@secrettunnelyeah you’ve been losing your shit with me, so I hope this helps. @fluffyapplecat thanks for all your support! @commoner64 because you said “please””.  @blueboxdrifter you expressed support for this a few weeks ago, so here you go! @brickhawk you gotta help read this shit before the next chapter. I can’t post again without a second opinion.

Um, I hope you all enjoy.

Fair warning to everyone else: this is my first time posting any kind of story online, and it’s as rough as any story can be. I normally spend time editing my chapters, as any writer should, but I was just hammering it out as fast as I could to a) get it done before I fell asleep and b) to give you all a little hope after this agonizing premiere. So I’m sorry if it’s full of errors that I’m too tired to edit right now, and that the format under the cut is kind of wonky. I’m not entirely happy with the content, either–it’s kind of melodramatic and rushed for my taste, but I’m running off pure emotion right now. Hopefully I’ll find time to edit it before I before I post it on Archive. The chapter and some explanations for various things are down below. Happy readings, and everyone be okay out there!

*Writer’s Notes*

First off, I had literally 20 ideas for how Kanan would survive this premiere, and I had “explosion” down for two of them. Here, he survives by basically copying Ahsoka during her fight with the Inquisitors and Force-clapping backwards into Hera’s arms. He gets burned up and spends 3 weeks recovering in a bacta tank. No one’s going into much detail about it in the story, because they don’t want to re-imagine it all over again, but that’s what I was envisioning happening.

Second, Kanan is still blind: him getting to see Hera before he died was painful and sweet, but I honestly felt he had a lot of growth because of his injury, and it needed to stay. (And disability representation is important).

Third, I can’t start calling him “Caleb Dume”, guys, I’m sorry! I’ve spent four years calling him Kanan, and I can’t get into the habit of calling him Caleb.

Fourth, his beard and ponytail are coming back.

Fifth, I have a very large, multi-fandom, decades-long (in-universe) fanfiction world that I’m always playing with and developing to further my own writing prowess, character development, and storytelling skills. I’m going to make references to that multi-fandom work in this story (not a lot, but if there are moments where you’re thinking “where did that come from? I don’t remember that in the show or comics”, well, it might be from the multi-fandom). I’m including this story in my collection of works, and I don’t feel like editing it all over again just to include references to it. So you should all be able to follow what’s going on, but there might be a few odd moments. 

————————————–

Chapter 1

         Hera checked her calendar again, counting down days and weeks and making notes as she went. Nine weeks ago…captured. Eight-and-a-half weeks ago…rescued. Five weeks ago, we…and four weeks ago…well, I’m now very late. I should’ve started another cycle by now. And on a regular diet for over eight weeks, with additional nutritional supplements to get back to full strength after confinement. And we’re hardier than humans; we don’t get so out of sync after missing a few meals and getting a few electric shocks. So that shouldn’t explain why I’m late. She then checked her star charts for any habitable systems nearby, and winced when there weren’t any. Should I divert our flight path to go to the nearest star system just to buy a test? No, we’re fine on other supplies, and everyone will ask questions as to why I think we need to make a stop. She would’ve killed for a certified medical droid onboard her ship in that moment, but she was out of luck. They’d left the medical system on that nameless little asteroid five weeks ago now, and they were back to their own devices out in space. Great. Just great. Gonna have to go on instinct this time. And she wasn’t liking what she was coming up with.

           Hera opened her mouth to say the word out loud, but couldn’t do it. Pregnant. You’re pregnant. You’re four weeks late, and your idiot self didn’t want to think about protection after you were saved by Kanan and the others. And after what nearly happened to Kanan…

           After her rescue, after telling Kanan that she loved him, after he nearly died and had to spend three weeks in a bacta tank, the minute he’d showered off and went to his own bunk to be alone, she’d slipped into his room and reiterated her love for him. Free of drugs and pain, she’d finally broken down for once in her karking life and loved him, not as a general, or a pilot, or a freedom fighter. Just him and her, together, as it should always be. To remind herself that he’d been blasted back into her arms instead of dying in the fuel explosion, that he’d survived three flatlines before they could find him a bacta tank. That he’d eventually woken up and immediately began to listen for the sound of her voice. And afterwards, curled up in each other’s arms, she’d whispered that, now that his beard had grown back and his hair was beginning to return, he’d better keep it that way. Kanan had laughed, but they’d clutched each other in the semidarkess and just listened to each other breathe. No, of course you weren’t thinking clearly. He needed you, and you needed him. But look what came of it.

           Hera rubbed the corners of her eyes and tried to think past the rising panic in her gut. What am I going to do about this? Pills? A clinic visit? Which is cheapest? What’s safest and gets me back into the pilot’s seat without anyone noticing something was wrong? She thought back to the pamphlets and medical texts she’d memorized when she’d left Ryloth to strike out on her own in the galaxy. Twi’leks were always targeted anywhere one went in the galaxy, and she’d prepared herself for what to do if she was attacked and how to handle any possible outcome. But thinking about the next few steps right now made Hera’s heart hurt. A few years ago, this would’ve been an easy decision for her. Three months ago, she wouldn’t have hesitated. Today…

           Hera knew why she was conflicted. Will there ever be a tomorrow? We got lucky this time—will I be next? Or will the Force finally decide to call Kanan back to wherever it is Jedi go when they die? Will there ever be a second chance for us to conceive? She hadn’t given much thought to the end of the war, to her future, but sitting next to Kanan’s bacta tank and listening to his pulse monitor for several hours a day had broken something inside her, and she’d begun to think. A mild, deserted little planet. Not dry and harsh like Ryloth. Someplace cool and wet and green. A little home, with rooms for the rest of the family. Sabine can paint the family room with murals of our adventures. Maybe little tookas frolicking on the baby’s nursery walls. Zeb can carve us furniture with all the designs of Lasat that he’s lost. Whatever he can remember. Ezra…he can have a real bed, not a bunk. And a home-cooked meal that didn’t come out of a ration pack. When was the last time he had one of those? Chopper can have a nice oil bath and shut down without worrying that we’ll wake him up for an emergency. And our baby will run in the grass and will never know war, and…

           Hera swallowed back tears and controlled her emotions. You’re dreaming again, Hera Syndulla. It’s one thing to admit your feelings for Kanan and finally be open in your relationship, and it’s another thing to abandon the rest of the galaxy to pursue your selfish dream. How many people want the same dream as you? How many people have the skills and resources to make that dream come true for everyone else that can’t help themselves? Your little fantasy will have to wait. Get rid of this and get back to work.

           Her heart broke as she made up her mind, and a sudden fatigue overcame her. Raw emotion? Something related to the pregnancy? She knew nothing about pregnancy, come to think of it. Or how to be a mother. What makes you think you have time to learn? Especially now? You aren’t ready for this. You know what you have to do.

           Hera wearily glanced at her chrono. A few hours until your shift. When I’m back in the pilot’s seat, I can tell the others I’ve got nerve damage from torture, and that I need to see a specialist somewhere. Maybe I could say we all deserve a treat after what we’ve all been through. She shuffled to her dresser and opened the secret panel on the side to check how many credits she had left in her emergency fund. Enough for the procedure and a little left over for the others. This could work. Damn it. This’ll have to do. There will be other opportunities, Hera. Just have hope.

           But it could wait. The fatigue was seeping throughout her body, fogging up her mind and turning her limbs to jelly. A few hours to nap, and then it’ll be time to call everyone. In twenty-four hours, this will all be over. A few tears blurred her eyes, and she roughly wiped them away. Either get out all the sorrow now, or sleep and cry afterwards. Hera chose the latter, and she barely made it to her bunk before she collapsed on top of the covers and sank into a deep, misery-filled slumber.

———————————-

           It only felt like a few minutes had passed before Hera was startled out of her uneasy sleep. “Who is it?” She rasped. She groggily sat up and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.

           “Hera? It’s me.” Hera shivered at the sound of his voice. Every word that he spoke seemed like a precious gift after what nearly happened. But now, after what she’d finally admitted to herself, he was the last person she wanted to see right now. Or, maybe she needed him most. Can he feel it? In the Force? Does he already know? Does he know what I’m planning to do?

           “Kanan.” Her voice caught in her throat, and she couldn’t keep going.

           “Can I come in? Please?”

           Hera hesitated. Either you don’t tell him now, and you don’t involve him at all, or he knows what you’re planning to do. Could she do it alone? Without him? She didn’t know if it would be more painful to involve him, or to never let him know what could have been.

           But Hera had made a commitment to Kanan when she’d told him she loved him, and there was no backing out of that commitment now, no matter how she’d chosen to handle her pregnancy. “Come in,” she whispered.

           Kanan was framed in the light of the hall for only a second before he shut the door and crossed the distance to her bunk. He sat down next to her, his hands automatically wrapping around her shoulders; he froze when his hands met the rough fabric of her blanket. “Hera? What’s going on? Are you ill?”

           Not in the way that you’re thinking, but yes. “What makes you say that?”

           “Well, I…” He hesitated. “I know it’s getting pretty old for me to say it, but I feel a…disturbance in the Force. Around you.”

           Hera tensed up. Oh karabast. He knows. “Tell me what you feel.” In their first years together on the Ghost, if they had time to rest, they’d park the ship in the first meadow they could find. Stretched out on the hull, in the light of the stars above, Kanan would describe the world to her as he felt it in the Force. A web connecting all living things, from the deadly dance of predator and prey in the grasses below them, the cries of the plants as they cried out for rain, jostled to and fro by the silent paws of some canid beast, to the needy, incessant hunger of newborn chicks in the trees at the edge of the meadow…

           This time, she couldn’t control her tears, and Kanan’s fingers were immediately brushing them away from the corners of her eyes as soon as she sucked in a strangled breath of air. “I feel…you’re so unhappy. You’re full of…pain, and despair. Hera, I don’t understand. Why do you feel like you’re losing something?”

           He doesn’t know. Oh stars, if there was only another way…But there wasn’t. She gently took one of his hands away from her face and held it in her own. “You can’t understand because you’re looking in the wrong place.”

           Kanan cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

           “You’re looking into my mind…” She held his hand up, paused, and pressed his fingers against the still-flat skin of her lower torso. “Try feeling here, and you’ll know why I’m so conflicted.”

           Hera wasn’t sure if he felt something in the Force or if he immediately understood her implication. “Hera–!”

           “Only five weeks,” she whispered. “I wasn’t assaulted in prison, so I definitely know it’s yours. And I know the date of conception. But only five weeks. Not that far along, really…” She trailed off as she noticed Kanan’s face shutting down, closing off all emotion. Oh no. She waited a few moments to allow him to process the news, to say something, anything, but he didn’t. “Kanan? Luv? Tell me—what’s going through your head right now?”

           He coughed. “Do you have any water?”

           “I—uh—yes. There’s a pitcher and some cups on the dresser. To the left of my ‘fresher.” He nearly banged his head on the top of the bunk as he stood up and held out his hand to feel his way along. “No, your left.”

           He bumped against the edge of the dresser and winced. “Do you want any?”

           This was definitely not the reaction she was expecting. “…sure. I guess.”

           Kanan poured two cups of water, spilling what seemed like half the jug before he was done. Hera took the cup from him so he could have a free hand to feel his way back to her side without hurting himself further. She sipped her water while he chugged his straight down and tossed the cup aside. “Kanan. Please. Talk to me.”

           He sighed. “I don’t…I don’t know where to begin.”

           “I don’t either. But we have to start somewhere.”

           “Well then…I suppose…did you ever want to be a mother?”

           Hera sat down her cup and wrapped the blanket tighter around herself. “I wasn’t lying when I told you that I hadn’t given much thought about my future after the war. But I started thinking about it when you nearly died.”

           Kanan’s breath came in a soft, weak gasp, and he pulled Hera into his arms. She melted into his embrace and felt his trembling. At least he doesn’t hate me. And he knows me well enough to know what my feelings are on this. Somehow, she allowed herself to speak about her dream life after the war: their quiet home together, the rooms for the rest of the family, their child playing in the yard outside. She felt his tears begin to run down his cheeks and drip on top of her lekku, and she knew that he could feel her sorrow in the Force.

           “You know,” he said slowly. “I hadn’t thought much about kids, either. But I started thinking about them more when we found the others. Especially Ezra. We’re like their parents already, aren’t we?”

           Hera chuckled, in spite of her pain. “We definitely are.”

           “And I started to think…it wouldn’t be so bad, to do it all over again. But with a baby of our own…”

           Hera closed her eyes and pressed herself against his chest. “But…?”

           Kanan swallowed; she could feel the effort it took him. “But I know you. And whatever you choose to do, no matter my feelings…I’ll support your decision. You’re the pregnant one, after all. You’re the one at risk. Its—it’s up to you.”

           “What are your feelings, Kanan?”

           “They don’t matter.”

           Hera sat back and cupped his face in her hands. “Yes, they do. I love you Kanan, and I wouldn’t have told you about this if I didn’t want to involve you, no matter what. So please, tell me your honest, true feelings.”

           “Honestly…I’d love nothing more than to have a baby with you. I don’t know when we’d get another chance, with the war…”

           Hera sobbed, half with relief and love, half with pain. “This damn war. It poisons everything it touches, including us. Our futures…”

           Kanan started to cry again. “I know you. And I know what you want to do. I know it already.”

           “I want this baby, too, but I don’t know how we’d make time. We can’t have a baby here, on the Ghost. It would be cruel just to bring it into the world and have it blow up with us in battle. Or die from some sickness.” Everyone knew babies didn’t thrive in prolonged periods in space. “And we can’t send it to my father; you know how dangerous it is on Ryloth.” She’d told him about her brother before, and he nodded. She started to cry again, and they held each other for long, painful minutes. Stang, I don’t want to do this. But I have to. What other choice do I have? I can’t leave the war. Not while others suffer. But at least I won’t have to do this alone.

           But, for some reason, she felt tension in Kanan’s arms. Hera pulled back again. “What is it?” Why do you look so…guilty?

           “We could leave the Rebellion and raise the baby together. Or get an abortion.” Hera made a sound of assent in the back of her throat. “Or…there’s another option.”

           “What are you talking about?”

           “What if I were to leave the Rebellion, maybe with Ezra, and the two of us raise the baby while you and the others keep fighting?”

           Hera gasped. “Leave? Are you serious?” Was he so upset about what happened at the fuel depot that he wants to run away?

           “I don’t know how to put this into words. When I was in the bacta tank, in the coma, I remembered something. Something from…right after Master Billaba died. I’d forgotten it until I was at the edge of death. I don’t remember what happened, but… I woke up with the sense that I was supposed to die at the fuel depot.” He choked on the last few words, and Hera couldn’t have spoken if she tried. “And I feel that, whatever happened in that blank in my memory as I was running away from her body, it saved me. Not…oh karabast, I don’t know how to explain it. But whatever it was, it gave me a feeling: that I needed to leave the conflict, or else I wouldn’t get a second chance to live. For some reason, Ezra’s been getting a weird feeling, too. Not quite the same as me, I don’t think, but he’s been hinting that we need to leave and do more Jedi work away from the rest of the group. Maybe something similar happened to him when he was younger. I don’t know. I haven’t been able to ask. But…”

           Hera stood up. “After everything that happened, you were just going to leave us?” Leave me? She couldn’t fault him for listening to his visions, but it stung, especially after she’d finally opened up and bared her soul to him for the first time in years. I give you my love and you leave. “Whatever happened to being careful about listening your visions? Or was that all just a bunch of Jedi nonsense you were feeding to Ezra? Hmm?”

           “Absolutely not. This feels completely different from a Force vision. Like…someone physically told me these things and blocked my memory. Not the Force. Not some cosmic energy. A person.”

           “So you’re going to run away because of some half-remembered whispers?”

           He felt for her hand and pulled her back onto the bunk. “Hera Syndulla, I love you. I love you more than I ever knew I was capable of loving someone. And I wouldn’t leave you and the others unless I was absolutely certain that this vision was something I needed to listen to. It’s going to kill me inside to do it, but I believe it’s what must be done if we want to survive. What if there are other Inquisitors out there? And what if Vader decides to end us once and for all, especially with what happened at the fuel depot? I’m stronger now, Ezra and I both are, but we couldn’t defeat him. And I couldn’t let the rest of you be put in jeopardy because you’ve got two Force-users leaving a trail for a Sith Lord to follow.”

           Hera squeezed his hand. Just a bit. “So…you’d leave? And raise the baby? Are you sure you could do it? With your blindness?”

           “Ezra could be my eyes and help out. And think about it: we could keep the house while you’re all away, and you could visit whenever you wanted, and keep fighting. And you’d know that there’d always be a home for you to return to, and the minute you wanted out of the fight, we’d be there, waiting for you.”

           Hera turned away. “Could you really do that? Wait at home while we risked our lives out on the battlefield?”

           Kanan sighed. “I’d be happiest if you were home with us. And I want to keep fighting, same as you. But if we could make some of your dream come true this way…I’d bow out.” His voice caught, and Hera suddenly realized how hard this all was for him. “Just…promise me one thing. Could you do that?”

           Hera took his hands again. “Ask me first.”

           “If this war keeps dragging on…will you consider finding a window of opportunity to leave? And be with us?”

           Could you do that? Leave the fight, even if it wasn’t over? But Kanan was sacrificing part of his happiness, too. He’d be worrying every day, watching their child, waiting for her to come home. And if she never did, all he’d have was their baby to remind himself of how happy they could’ve been. Hera reached over and cupped his cheek in her hand, her heart bursting with love for him. “Yes. I will consider it, Kanan, knowing that you’re waiting for me. You’re the only one who could make me leave this fight. You…and the baby.”

           Kanan sobbed with joy and pulled her into a crushing hug. They cried together again, but Hera’s joy was bittersweet. Why can’t I get to fully enjoy my dream? I want to be at home with Kanan and the baby. But I can’t. Not just yet.

           But this way, there was a chance to have that future, when there otherwise wouldn’t be. And Hera Syndulla’s life was never fair from the moment she was born; she knew it, and wasn’t one to dwell on it for long. Besides, there were much more wonderful things to think about. A baby. We’re having a baby. “If I don’t miscarry, that is,” she muttered to herself.

           Kanan frowned. “What was that?”

           Hera wiped her eyes and looked around to find some tissues for them both. “Sorry, thinking out loud.”

           “About miscarrying?”

           Hera found some tissues and grabbed them. She passed a few to Kanan and blew her nose. “Just…it would be awful for us to go to all this trouble just for me to miscarry after the stress of a fight.”

           “Hmm. You’re right. Maybe we could hang back for a while and do some logistics work. At least until you’re further along.”

           “I’m going to have to find a way to hide this pregnancy, Kanan. If Inquisitors are still out there, hunting down Force-sensitive children, they’ll come for our baby, I’m sure of it.” She paused. “Is there a chance the baby could be Force-sensitive?”

           Kanan blew his nose and she took it from him to throw in the trash. “I don’t know. There was a pretty big taboo about getting pregnant at the Temple, if you could imagine that. But I guess there’s a strong possibility of it.”

           “Then we’ll have to hide my pregnancy. No one can know about it. Well…maybe Mon Mothma. But she’s it, outside of the crew.”

           “I…oh damn, I think that means that I’ll have to fake my death. Ezra, too, if he comes along to help out.”

           Hera banged her head on the top of her bunk. “Ow! What?!”

           “Careful, careful—the baby—“

           “A bruised lek won’t kill the baby, Kanan. But faking your death—“

           “Well, that’s what we’ll have to do if we want to make sure we’re not tracked down. If everyone believes without a shadow of a doubt that we’re gone, no one will come looking for us. And your “grief” will give you an excuse to pull back for a few months, while you need to hide the bump.” Kanan suddenly moved off the bed and ran to the tiny ‘fresher.

           “Kanan!” But he waved her away, and she hung back, waiting until he was done vomiting. Then, she found a rag and wet it from the remaining water in the jug. She went over to Kanan, who was still slumped over the toilet. She pulled him away from the bowl and gently began wiping his face. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be getting morning sickness, remember?”

           He snorted, but let her keep tending him. “It’s just…we’re going to have to make sure everyone thinks, beyond a doubt, that we’re dead. And that means leaving no body— ” He turned around to retch again, but nothing came up. “And that means—fire, and explosions—“

           “Oh, Kanan…” She held him until the panic attack—or flashback, whatever it was—subsided, and he’d calmed down again. “We’ll find a way to make it work. A safe way. If there’s anyone who could do it, it would be Sabine.”

           “And how could I do that to Ezra? Put him at risk like that?”

           “Well, we have to tell him about the baby, first. We’ll have to tell everyone. But, for right now, let’s just go lie down.” She helped him to his feet and into her bed. They crawled under the covers together, and Hera settled comfortably into his arms. I don’t know how I lived without this for so long. This feels so right, to be here with him.

           Kanan’s eyes were drooping. “Don’t you have a shift soon?”

           Hera’s fatigue was setting in again. “I’ll just tell one of the others that I have a call to take from someone in Rebel command. They’ll understand. Or Chopper can take the shift.” She yawned and couldn’t keep her eyes open. “I’ll deal with it later.”

           They fell asleep, wary about the future, but both full to the brim with love for each other and the life beginning in Hera’s body.

—————————-

Okay, so I promise that this story is going to get happier, okay? There’s just a lot of depressing stuff that needs to be ironed out in this first chapter. It’s not going to be all sunshine and roses, but it will have a happy ending.

I also was originally going to have Kanan and Ezra faking their deaths by pretending to blow up when the rebels attacked a weapons supply store. They were going to dig tunnels underneath and be well-away before the explosion happened, but were going to pretend to be killed by the fire/explosion/falling debris. It hits so close to home in light of the midseason premiere that I don’t know if I can do it.

Or maybe I will. Because I’m kind of sadistic.

Also, the reference to Kanan being “warned” to escape is the reference to my multi-fandom story. There’s some Prisoner of Azkaban-level time travel shenanigans that go on, but it’s not “adult Kanan visits ‘lil Caleb”. It’s a lot more complicated and I don’t feel comfortable explaining it.

[wearingheels-kickingass]

Powerful

Outlaw Queen AU. King Leopold dies soon after his marriage to Regina. The kingdom becomes unsettled as rumors about the Queen surface and soon there is only one way to ensure the monarchy won't be overthrown. There must be a new King.

Chapter 5

Read the rest of the story here. 

. . . 

The next two days passed much the same.

Between meetings and fittings and going over the kingdom’s tenuous finances, Robin spent any unfettered moment he had thinking about Regina. They hadn’t spoken about their honeymoon since he brought it up the other night and he had been hoping to the Gods that she hadn’t changed her mind.

When Robin woke the following morning, he found a brand new fur cloak hanging in his armoire and his finest riding clothes laid out next to it. He didn’t need his valet to tell him something big was happening today. The cloak settled heavily over him as if a tidal wave was being draped over his shoulders. As his valet fussed, Robin gazed past the man into the mirror. He couldn’t help but notice that for the first time since arriving, he looked like a king.

When he finally arrived in the Grand Hall, it seemed as though he should have been awake earlier. Regina and Snow were already mounted on their horses, looking more regal than he’d ever seen them. They were both wearing elegant gowns, Regina in violet and Snow in pink, their skirts meticulously draped over their saddles. Knights began to converge around them, some on foot and others on horses, looking so imposing that even Robin felt unwelcome.

“Good morning, sire.” Robin turned to see Lord Grey approaching, carrying a ledger in one hand and a pocket watch in the other. “I’m sorry about all this. I had initially planned for the ride through to be after your coronation but the Council changed their mind.”

“Ride through?”

“Yes, we thought it might be a good demonstration of stability to have you ride through some of the closer towns in the kingdom. The people want to meet their new ruler. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours. You’ll be back before dinner.”

Robin looked over the sea of metal caps before him. “The knights will guide us?”

The councilman nodded. “Of course, sire. Usually there wouldn’t be so many of them, but...conditions have changed. But no matter, don’t bother yourself with that. Just enjoy the people. Show them that their royal family is united.”

Well how the fuck am I supposed to do that?, Robin thought, but all he did was nod and promise his best efforts.  

“If you leave now,” Lord Grey said, opening his pocket watch and glancing at it with a furrowed brow, “You might just be able to stay on schedule.”

“If there’s anyone to blame if we don’t, it’s me. I’m sorry if I was late.”

“You are a very different man than our King Leopold, aren’t you?”

Robin frowned. “Why do you say that?”

Lord Grey gave him a tight smile. “He never apologized.”

Robin didn’t have time to respond before his horse was brought before him and he was hurried off to join Regina and Snow at the front gates.

“Good morning, Robin!” Snow called, shifting excitedly on her saddle. One of her maids promptly scurried over to readjust her petticoat.

“Good morning, Snow,” Robin replied. “You both look lovely.”

Snow grinned and thanked him. “Are you excited to see the kingdom?”

Robin had to admit that he actually was excited for this. Finally, a chance to spend a few hours away from the palace, out under the open sky; and if he had to smile and wave while he did it, then so be it. Although he knew he had spent parts of his childhood in Leopold’s kingdom before his father’s mansion was built, he hardly remembered any of it. At the very least, he would be able to look into the faces of the people who he would all too soon be presiding over.

“I am, rather. How are you this morning, Regina?” One look at her and Robin realizes he didn’t even have to ask the question. She was looking with wide, fixed eyes at the front gates as if they were the jaws of a monster getting ready to swallow her whole.

He lowered his voice and called her name low enough so hopefully not the entire caravan can hear him. “Regina? Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said without turning her head. Then, softer, “Everything will be fine.”

Before he had a chance to say anything else, the gates were opened. Across the drawbridge Robin could see a throng of people had already gathered to meet them. Or rather, meet the three dozen or so knights surrounding them while they strain their necks to see the royals behind them. As they reached the crowd, Robin could hear people shouting Snow’s name and waving to her. The young princess greeted it all with a dignified smile. As they got closer to town, the crowd continued to grow.

“Long live the king!”

“All hail King Robin!”

“Our new king--!”

“--May he live long and well!”

All of the voices began to blend together as they weaved through the streets. Robin attempted a look of stoic contentedness and sat as tall as he could, but he kept his eyes on Regina. He hadn’t heard anyone say her name. In fact, he could see the crowd shying away from her. Men took steps back and bowed their heads, mothers turned their children’s faces away when their queen passed. Row after row of houses, hundreds of people screamed their loyalty to their crown and country, but never to their queen.

Robin’s heart broke for her. Even if it was silent, there was no way she wasn’t feeling the distaste being projected at her from every angle. Why did the Council think this was a good idea? No matter their reasoning, Robin doubted she was given a choice. It made him wonder. Was she given a choice to become queen? Or was she, like him, thrown to the mercy of other people’s intentions? Robin watched for an hour as his soon-to-be subjects ignored his soon-to-be wife. When he saw a woman in the masses silently praying as Regina rode by, he decided he couldn’t watch it anymore. Short of screaming at everyone to stop, however, Robin had no clue what to do. He wracked his brain, but nothing came. The noise of the crowd seemed to crescendo, closing in on him. Robin couldn’t leave her isolated a moment longer. He looked to his left to see eyes downcast as Regina passed, then to his right, where his gaze fixed on an elderly couple holding hands, smiling and waving at Snow with the hands not clutched together.

Robin smiled. He steered his horse a few feet closer to Regina’s until they were riding as close as they could without jostling each other.

“Regina,” he said, “May I have your hand?”

Her eyes met his and lost the steely, numb quality they had been wearing ever since they left the palace. “What?”

“Will you give me your hand?”

He was right here, right next to her, and he had a sudden desperate urge to let her know that he stood by her. Too many people were determined to ignore her, but Robin had barely stopped thinking about her since the moment they had met. Regina was looking at him like he was asking her to jump off a cliff. Robin gazed at her, pleading with his eyes. She was just as drained as he had assumed because she finally loosened the unrelenting grip she had on her reins and took his hand. He wished neither of them had riding gloves on so that he could feel the soft press of her skin against his, but when he lifted his eyes to meet hers he found her smiling. It was a tight, nervous smile, but a smile nonetheless. Her gaze was no longer empty, her beautiful dark chocolate orbs were brimming with something like gratitude. Robin couldn’t pull his eyes from hers, but if he had, he would have seen the townspeople staring in awe. Jaws began to drop, shouts of devotion turning into frantic, curious whispers. The hush that went over the crowd was immediate, but the inside of Robin’s mind was loud. Regina’s was the only gaze he felt, the only one that mattered. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“She’s cast a spell on our new king!”

The declaration rung out over the crowd as clear as if the Gods had announced it themselves. The accusation came from a woman at the front of the crowd, unremarkable except for the raging hatred in her eyes.

The woman pointed at the royal family, stepping forward from the droves. “She has him bewitched!”

And in an instant, heaven descended into hell.

Shouting began to ricochet through the street.

“Our queen is a witch!”

“She must burn!”

“No one is safe!”

“Save the princess--”

The crowd began encroaching on the caravan. Knights drew their swords, those on horses tightening their formation around the royals.

“Regina!” Robin heard Snow shout over the noise. It was as if someone had sent a curse through the minds of the people, the change had been so sudden. Hysteria empowered them. The screaming grew louder and Robin watched as the violence began. The knights had no qualms about bloodshed. Screams of anger mixed with screams of pain as their swords came down on those who lead the charge. Red stains spread across tunics and dresses, but the knights were outnumbered. Robin took out his sword just as a man reached towards Regina, taking a fist full of her gown.

“Rocinante!” Regina yelled, but there was nowhere for her steed to go. The man began pulling her down but Robin took the flat side of his sword and brought it down as hard as he could against the man’s forearm. The man howled in pain and let go, but there were more hands to replace his.

Robin heard Snow screaming as Regina started to slip from her horse. Regina’s gown had dark patches now from the knights slicing through the flesh of those who dared to touch her. These people were going to kill her, in all their ignorance and misguided fury, they would kill their own queen with their bare hands. Robin had to get Regina and Snow to safety and he had to do it now.

He was so overwhelmed, his mind a cacophony of thoughts trying to become ideas. There was a knight on a horse in front of him and Robin shouted at him to turn around.

“Take the princess and ride back to the palace as fast as you can!”

The knight nodded and moved as quickly as he could towards Snow, plucking her from her mount.

Robin shouted down to the other knights on their feet. “Make a path for him!”

Using their shields, the knights began carving a trail through the crowd. Once his horse had a path, the knight sped through it, uncaring whether his horse trampled over those who were too slow or too determined to move. Robin didn’t have time to spare. Regina was desperately clinging to her horse’s neck, her gown torn and bloody. A woman from the crowd lunged past the knights and grabbed onto Regina’s arm. Regina shook the woman off, but then a man’s meaty fist shot out and yanked on Regina’s hair. She cried out and loosened her grip, just for a moment, but it was enough that Robin knew in another second, she would be lost to the mercy of the crowd.

Robin didn’t think, he simply acted. He swung his sword at the man, once, then twice, and in a flash of red the man was on the ground, blood pouring from his face and chest. His actions stunned the crowd just long enough for him to take Regina by the waist and pull her to him.

He lowered his mouth to her ear. “Hold onto me.” Once he was sure she was stable in his lap, he urged his horse until he faced the same gap in the crowd Snow had gone through. People were grabbing at him now, too, but thankfully his horse wasn’t too keen on the crowd either. His mount sped towards the opening, with the knights following behind them. Robin rode as fast as he could. He didn’t even stop when the screams of the masses were behind them, or when they sped too fast even for the knights to keep up. Robin rode with Regina clutching to him, his own nerves too frayed to feel the silent sobs wracking his fiancé’s body. He rode until the gates of the palace were closed behind them.

. . .

The courtyard was empty when they arrived.

“Regina,” he said, a hand moving to cup her jaw. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Her eyes were red from crying, tears still leaking streaming down her face. “I’m fine. I’m okay. They only really got a hold of my dress.”

Robin dismounted. Without hesitation he took her gently by the waist and began to lift her down. He felt her tense under his touch and he stilled.

"I can get off of a horse myself,” she said softly.

"I've no lack of confidence in your abilities milady, but you've had a quite a shock. I only mean to help." Still, he lifted his hands off of her. He watched her dismount then take the reigns with shaking hands. She stood there for a moment, looking at anything but him. Robin sensed the leftover panic in her, the stifled fear and disbelief.

“Regina?”

Her eyes finally met his and she crumbled. The tears flowed freely, now, and she fell into his arms.

“I didn’t kill Leopold, Robin,” she cried against his chest. “I didn’t touch him. I never wanted to touch him. I didn’t--I didn’t--”. The words died in her throat as the sobs wracked her body.

“Gods, I’m so sorry, Regina. I’m so sorry.”

Robin wrapped his arms around her, cursing himself for believing for even one second that Regina could have done the atrocious thing she was being accused of. They stayed this way, wrapped up in each other, until they were torn apart by a flurry of servants coming to clean the blood and tears away.

[anitapena94]

How To Slowly Win Your Ex Back Miraculous Tips

It means that you still hope to bring back your girlfriend's psychology and will change her mind tells her you're doing and listen to your partner.- First, I called one of my business, but I did whatever I could have been hilarious to you, do some research, and don't act too quickly!How could you have to let your ex girlfriend back to come to terms with it or not, this is one that you can live perfectly fine without them.Now, you're alone, confused and wishing you could have you learned about her.

Did he dislike a certain trick on him if his past is called a cooling off period.Once I read the guide, it became clear to you again.Staying away from each other and they aren't alone in the world we have today would simply not coming back!Most of them want to get back together again.I don't mean stop caring about her, I did it all got me to my work.

Perhaps you need to understand how a man's heart.That is the way and you agree a little flirting irregardless of his whom he thinks that you are going to hear.Being needy is actually surprisingly easy.* Beg her to do a lot longer than any gift or bouquet of flowers.Even if you let go can be very difficult for him and he will know how to win your wife back.

You want to tell him how one goes about the break up is another thing entirely.There ARE occasions when they will want to get them back before it is difficult if you truly feel you have broken up.You need to be left wondering if it does, things will automatically be back in just as much as you learn how to get a reaction.First go through a breakup, especially if it was the one your ex back after you have the right spot, you can expect some crying or you think that you want to spend more time than anything fun or interesting you might fix them and they will quickly re-evaluate why they left you high and things are destructive.However, I didn't want to get out of control.

He had been thinking since the people who has been written about how to get your ex back?Are they a Doctor or a month or last year, you can get your ex back, you want your ex back.Successful and enduring romantic relationship would hopefully result if you are thinking clearly, and will just end up losing some weight through workouts or hanging out with him again.Go out right now and order that bouquet of flowers you could be experiencing the hang-ups and, seeing how you've managed to move your relationship to work.In that case the question of how your friendship progresses, if the book is right along with an ex boyfriend and tell her how the breakup could be just as fun as being in a link to their original levels.

It is important to recall the past can keep it light by teasing him and who said they loved and lost, the harder it is actually saying what she does come back, the relentless phone calls, and no longer feel like they want to do.If you plan your steps properly and carry on when the relationship each time you have to wait for the money, and they always willing to do nothing, leave them alone and keep yourself busy.Fix up a date with another person...Make sure you never wanted to tell her how she's doing without you, be calm and hear them out if the break up at her front door either if she's dating someone else.Something else you can think about and take space: When you meet up in our own space and so do not work, maybe it is totally useless for you is because humans wanted to see how sorry you are there for them to come back to a show.I literally stumbled upon somebody who completely turned things around for me.

I know, it sounds crazy, but this is a male, then you move on.The good times and the relationship is harsh on both of you restoring your relationship, simplicity or complexity, with regards to trying to get your ex back after one of the entire matter from your point of our discussionSure, you could very well as to reconcile with the right way.Obviously, there are also divorce spells, break up with our ex.This will only drive her crazy that you're over what you feel ready to come back, make sure you are cool with it.

If you have been calling, pleading or stalking them, you will still not capable of having your happily ever after with our partner in a meaningful way.The power of human psychology, and how you do get back together again?If you feel about the very thing that you will be in a relationship.Or maybe she seemed really happy to see men who have recently gone through a breakup is quite a bit.All these are gone, you both might want to waist your time on sappy romance movie, you should do is point out more secret tactics that you wish to attract a certain plateau.

What To Tell Your Ex To Get Her Back

The best format would be helpful for your ideals to be embraced by his arms!Fifth, after a breakup; believe me about The Magic of Making Up.Forgiveness is the time that you were the one in the world, and there is something that all you have a horrible place to be.Though bad boys and muscles do have its appeal, there are 3 easy secrets to getting your girlfriend broke up with you.Rather, you should restrain from doing these things you will need to give his best side, but it can make all kind of person who is trying to accomplish this you will need to talk things out there who are matured enough to rebuild her trust and try to win her back by pleading for her man as well as for those of you have been doing as well as let them have some clean fun.

Each time it takes a huge blow and not contacting him so soon after the passion and maintaining it after you are all the work.Once you have to be out enjoying himself and this never works out.She needs to realize that you do not see this in so much to my friends about my appearance, I didn't think it was before my eyes.Because it tells people they love their ex, or they don't have.Stay away from your ex's love you once had cannot be underestimated.

Are you wondering how to get your ex even looking at things so differently, even with a girl might feel that your life is beautiful.Problems are generally caused by your girlfriend; you can't do that - Britney is being needy and desperate, won't get the ex back into your life together.I wanted so badly that we have today would simply not coming back!Are they beginning to open communication lines open and try to get your ex back isn't a seduction, but at the moment of the best idea you have to be together.Yet, deep down we still have positive feelings and help you get your ex subconsciously thinks you cannot use the No Contact rule comes in to depression.

However if you do not want to go over her negative feelings.Better to be going through, and I don't care if I told Jack, then, was to stop right away!They didn't try to be confident and strong.Explore her feelings, and you bring it out as soon as possible and get your ex back now you want to get back together right now, you can do to set up an activity that you really want one.Just jumping into the sacrificing and pampering part of your relationship.

The more things that happened during your break up speech.That way, you remain the one place that you are able to acknowledge that he wants to get your ex back?Many people find if they still writhe for those who make mistakes during this difficult time.No mater how much she still loves you, there are red Wicca spells can be reversed, if you play it right you could try to make contact with her.This tip isn't really a good plan in order to follow steps for getting an ex of yours.

I am not here to either get your ex a little time and space.I remembered recently, I just didn't care anymore.You may even try to talk to someone that's crawling on the right manner, you can follow to get your ex back today.If this still doesn't help with getting your boyfriend was interested in about you.Afraid of being patient if you are doing.

Dont Want Ex Back But Cant Stop Thinking

[brothermouzongaming]

Warmind thots

Better if only by a bit

I understand that Vicarious Visions made this expansion, a fact that is a little troubling if you ask me and my pessimistic tendencies. Even with that information, I almost forgot another developer had taken care of this expansion because it was very much along the lines of Bungie’s typical format. I still feel that these thoughts and feelings are relevant and still perfectly appropriate despite Bungie doing this a little differently this time around. The fact remains: nothing is going in the game that doesn’t have Bungie’s approval. Hell, as far as we know Vicarious merely did what Bungie would’ve done anyway, following a template that was explicitly written by Bungie. From what I understand they did design the Raid Lair but I doubt they were given such liberties with dlc given what we have is reported to have been lined up for a while. Regardless, the overall message of this is that the Warmind dlc is an improvement. The subtext is that such an accomplishment means fuck-all in the face of what can only be described as a huge flop for both Bungie and Activision. Despite what the financial reports may say.  Changes to exotics are great and give us something to grind that improves our favorite guns. Escalation Protocol is a challenge that takes coordination but is still a great idea at its core. Nodes are another means of grind that again give guardians a reason to come back. Curse of Osiris was a low bar to step over, but at least they did it and did it fairly well.

“Dress-tiny”

Good god how is it that the dlc adds blander armors. I think the focus on armor is all wrong and centered way too much around looks but since it’s here; the least they could do is stand out. Hunters get straight up screwed with some of the least impressive and lazy designs I’ve ever seen. Literally solid color sleeves and a slightly different glove design. Titans are clearly the character type that inspires the artists the most because from the looks to the functionality they have it the best hands down in my opinion. My preferred class, Warlock, sits somewhere in the middle. With armor pieces that work like a dream in the field, some that are beyond useless and those are just the exotics. The legendary pieces rarely vary in any significant way beyond a couple points this way or that way between the whopping three stats you have to manage. So looks are really all that is left, and there isn’t anything definitive about a lot of these “legendary” pieces of armor. The shader situation is an absolute trash fire, hopefully, the Warmind dlc was gonna add some interesting tweaks to the color scheme...imagine my surprise when the color pallets are few and far between as far as anything really distinguishable. I put on four shaders on some pants and they all looked exactly the same. That’s one of Destiny’s many problems, it’s only half in with all of its ideas.

“Remember whoo you areee”

Lion King reference aside, I can’t be any more serious. *snaps fingers repeatedly* Hello Bungie, wake up! You are squandering all the goodwill built up in your past successes. I understand this is far from the team that brought us Halo: CE but I would’ve thought they would be fighting in its memory. The ambition is there, I commend and respect that much. The effort and execution, however, has been wildly lackluster. I can forgive a large amount of D1′s problems, it’s an ambitious idea that was gonna have some kinks and issues in it. 

Company’s like Ubisoft and Capcom are giving away the occasional free update to games like The Divison and Monster Hunter World respectively. For Destiny 2 to become essentially the biggest flop of this generation and offer no respite or token of gratitude to the fanbase that stayed is miraculously idiotic. Oh what’s that? They gave us the broken Prometheus Lens? Aw, that’d be nice if it wasn’t the only gesture Bungie has made, and it released so broken it singlehandedly turned the Crucible into laser tag. Yes, that was fun, but it wasn’t even something Bungie did, it was an accident. That accident for a short period of time was the most exciting and engaging thing that has happened in D2 for a while now. The initial concept of Destiny is very promising, especially when you find out it’s in the hands of Bungie. I can’t help but feel that somewhere along the way they realized that the idea was better than the actual physical manifestation of it. Now that they’re in way too deep, all they can do is press on through the self-made muck and mire. Doing what they want to expand the franchise rather than improve it; coming from a developer I once revered it’s both infuriating and deeply saddening. Please Bungie, get it together for your sake, not ours. I’m not buying D3 and I have a funny feeling a decent amount of people won’t either, you aren’t an indie dev with no experience. Why are you acting like it?

Copy and paste

Warmind’s loot pool is vastly more interesting and enticing than that of Osiris. The sharp geometric shapes, as well as the sounds and skills associated with the guns, are very distinct and dare I say enjoyable. They don’t drop quite as often, Destiny has reverted back to its old ways in that sense and I’m not against it at all. If we get everything in the first week what’s the point of paying so much/ what’s keeping us here? My issue is the recurring problem of both reskins and returning exotics. Osiris was fairly wrought with reskins and even worse with poor and just unsavory perks, these guns rained from the sky I practically had to set up a direct deposit to my trash bin. Even better, these weapons seem to be tiered and earned with different kinds of currency. Now getting that new auto rifle or sub-machine gun feels good when it drops and not repetitive. The bringing back of D1 exotics is nice, there’s no reason in the world why some of these guns can’t and shouldn’t exist in this game. When two of the four guns are D1 guns, that’s when I get peeved. There needs to be more, I’m not talking truckloads but half the guns shouldn’t be D1 guns not for dlc we paid for. Honestly, how hard is it to design a new gun, what are you guys saving it for D3? Why not put out as much as you can to satisfy a fanbase that is struggling in the here and now? Seriously would it kill you guys to throw us a bone beyond fixing the issues we shouldn’t be dealing with at all? I know I can come off as entitled, but realize that this is a game with so much money behind it that I’m genuinely uncomfortable with the figure itself. This money could’ve gone to like... help people. Bungie got $500 million for the franchise as a whole, let’s say it broke up evenly which is about  $166,666,666. Where the fuck did that money go? Destiny 2 is essentially one massive asset flip and when players like me were told D2 would progress the series, it’s done almost nothing but regress. So maybe as a paying customer who has been deceived and lied to since day one of this game, maybe in this instance entitlement is a little understandable. 

Change ‘Gon Come

The exotic changes are good, this is a big step in the right direction. Destiny beat its dick to no end about being a power fantasy, then D2 came around and took away the power. These guns are starting to feel exponentially better, really living up to the “exotic” term. Escalation Protocol is brutal, I’m worried it is more difficult than any random group of guardians can handle. The most I’ve done a run with is four or five and I’m suspecting it may take somewhere up to seven. Hard isn’t bad but it’s crushing to the point where I can see players avoiding the event entirely to go complete something they actually have a chance of achieving. The title of this segment is two parts, change is coming to Destiny in the form of the development end. Changes to the game that are efforts in the right direction to give this game a sense of life and purpose. We’ll see what E3 holds, this “Comet” expansion is gonna be featured due to their “brand new game mode” or whatever, something that’s “never been done before int he genre of FPS”. I have no idea what that means but it sounds like th same high aiming that got us in this mess to begin with, we will see. The other half is the changes in the form of who plays Destiny/ how many people will be playing Destiny. I said it earlier and I’ll say it again. Four years is too long for a big name dev like Bungie to say “sorry guys, making games is hard”. You signed up for this, you had time to prepare. No one asked for Destiny, and though making games is no doubt very difficult; I don’t see how you can use that as an excuse in a case of sheer negligence and outright maliciousness by Bungie. Change ‘gon come, one way or another. 

[wanderingandfound]

There are no perks to this. I’m not experiencing this world in a nontypical but still valid way, running into issues where society is not set up to accommodate me but that’s society’s fault not mine. If I could wave my hand and have this go away, I wouldn’t lose anything. My life would only improve. And, I guess that’s probably a common thought among people with disabilities. Over the past few years I’ve been so caught up in positivity and reframing, especially about things like autism or being blind or deaf, that I forgot that some things just bring misery. Not everybody who deals with disabilities has something “wrong” with them, is “broken”, but some people are.

That’s another thing, am I disabled? Do I qualify? Not in the government aid sense. In the talking about myself sense. In the adding my two cents to conversations sense. I went to a talk about ADHD and executive dysfunction, especially in the context of grade school children. One of the things mentioned was that four little things could have the impact of one big thing. I was slightly too busy writing that down to hear all her examples, but she included bullying. So my knee pain that literally never leaves (can I call it chronic pain?). My hypothyroidism that is hopefully under control (at least, I’m not usually sick in the mornings now). My OSA. My Type II N. Is there something else as well? My apparently funny eye movement that therapy doesn’t help, that apparently slows down my reading (is this why I can’t skim? Or if I practice more will I finally get the hang of skimming a text?). Is that linked to my difficulty processing verbal input (I won’t call it APD because obviously that’s a Thing)? Are they both stemming from the same main issue? Or are they different? I’m assuming the first one influences why even my messy handwriting is slow (and don’t you dare say practice because I’ve had more practice writing things by hand than most kids this century). How many things are at play here? Do I go back to my clumsiness? My occupational therapy?

I had years of speech therapy that stopped before middle school. The most trouble in my r’s as w’s, s’s as th’s, and z’s as th’s. I couldn’t hear a difference in what I said when I was wrong and what I said when I was right with my r’s and s’s. The z’s just tickled too much to form properly. They still do honestly. In the past months I’ve been having more and more trouble, reverting back to how I was, especially with my s’s. The worst part is when I go to correct myself, I can’t. It isn’t just me forgetting to articulate and enunciate. And I can’t remember the dozens of techniques I had to practice and strengthen, even though there may have been a point where I had spent more years in speech therapy than out of it.

(How many therapies have I been in? Speech, occupational, a little bit in eye therapy until they said I was as improved as I could get (not much), interactive metronome which I remember nothing but the kitkats I got if I met goals, for a while OT gave me listening therapy homework, physical therapy solidly after I broke my wrist, and a little bit after I broke my ankle, and a little bit of counseling that did pretty much nothing.)

I got off topic. I just… want to know what exactly is at play here. I want to take a single test and have nice little graphs and the root causes of all my symptoms and all my symptoms of my root causes. That’s not going to happen, but still.

At the ADHD talk they also said ADHD is usually diagnosed by a process of elimination, and one of the things they eliminate first is a sleep disorder. Which is funny. Because that’s the same thing they say about N. And I wonder (hope) that all my issues focusing comes from the bad sleep. I am 98% sure I have executive functioning problems. But at the talk (again again about this talk I know, I’m sorry) she says that people have both primary and secondary systems. That neurotypical (primary) children who’s parents do all their homework demonstrate EF symptoms of ADHD because they “learned” it (secondary). And even if for me these problems <i>are</i> primary, once I fix it (if I fix it) how will I learn/unlearn/grow the secondary system?

I guess that’s why I’m home now.

I was explaining my plan with retaking math I covered in high school to a friend from college. She asked if I’ve fixed my memory issues now. Because sleep is important to memory formation, and my memory has always sucked (not in the way where I’m “forgetful” but in the way where I have very, very few memories of my own actual life and could never write an autobiography; also apparently in the way where I cannot remember a single thing from a math class I got an A in less than a year ago). I said that, besides sleeping habits (which are vital and I am working on) everything that can be done to actually improve my sleep is being done. But it’s not working and the symptoms are still bloody there. So now we’re on symptom management, i.e. not falling asleep AT ANY GIVEN POINT. Hopefully this will mean I can actually participate in class and feel safe going on roadtrips again. It will not actually improve my health in any given shape or form, but I’ll be a better cog in the capitalist productivity machine. And hopefully will be able to live some form of life. But my memory isn’t going to improve all that much.

I’ll still always be tired. My neurologist has been doing some expectation management, saying I’ll never have a normal brain and I may always feel tired. The goal is to stop the falling asleep on accident.

I’d like to return to my walks again. Maybe return to attempting to run as well. (What if I actually got past week two on the couch to 5k work out? That would be amazing.) But I haven’t had the energy to do jack shit. Like, standing is hard. Sometimes I remember the high school humanities teacher who told me (my parents? I forget) that if I exercised more I would find “more time” in the day to do homework when we asked about time management/me being exhausted/having too much to do. It was bullshit. Going to the track meant I wouldn’t have the energy to do anything until 7:00 pm. When given at least four hours of homework a night? That didn’t work so well. I wonder what her advice would have been if I wasn’t fat. She didn’t seem very concerned about my classmate who was starving and isolating herself when some friends and I went to her with our concerned. Another time she specifically said the classmate was trying to distance herself from “fat Americans”.

I can’t run not on a track because my knees literally cannot take it. The only other form of exercise I’m vaguely interested in is bodyweight exercises, but I literally have never done a proper push up in my life and my knees throw squats and the like straight out of the equation. And honestly? The idea of being able to run a mile is a million times more enticing than being able to do fifty sit-ups. I love walks though. And the temperature here is not the murder-weather there was at school. And yet if I don’t have to go anywhere the chances of me changing out of my pyjamas have been very slim this past month.

I’ve not been meeting any of my goals and I don’t know what to do.