#She made this girl a fucking superhero and brought her into her friendship group
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#Delete later#Don't read this if you're a fan of kagami cos today I'm feeling livid about her behaviour and actions in s5#Everything that salters claimed alya would be is exactly what kagami was#I feel like the reason I'm so pissed is cos I've had bitches do that to me in my school days too#Marinette gave her so much and this is what she got in return#She had her important secrets told to the person who helped the enemy and whose morals didn't align with hers#She made this girl a fucking superhero and brought her into her friendship group#AND THIS IS WHAT SHE GOT IN RETURN LOL#And the worst thing for me is that I don't see anyone talking about it and being like#Uwu kagami is such a helpless lonely girl uwu#FUCK HER#Don't get me started with the way she bitched at adrien for not standing up to gabriel at the end of s4#She was terrible to both adrinette!!!#Alya and nino deserve a better fanbase#Adrinette deserves a better fanbase#If you're a fan of kagami that's completely fine and you're well within your rights to love her no matter what#But I will forever be pissed at her for this so don't expect any fanart or fics about her from me#I won't draw or write her unless she's needed for a plot or whatever#And don't worry I'm not gonna write salt about her or anything like that#And any of my work that involves her will stay in a positive or neutral light because we don't need more negativity in this fandom#I know this is a long rant but I'm just so annoyed#It just hits close to home for me#Cos I've been in Marinette's position#Lol
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Saturday Market
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (not canon, though - kinda a farmer!AU?? Maybe just modern!AU?? I don’t really know what to call it, but they’re not superheroes)
Summary: Bucky escapes to the countryside in an attempt to recover from his years of service, not expecting to form such a connection with one of Sam’s childhood friends
Requested: Yes, as part of the BLM-donations: “BLM request - So I’d just about die for Bucky at the farmers market. Like first meeting kinda out of the blue the reader is vibing out with the atmosphere. like a totebag full of fruit, honey, and Knick knacks and thriving off of free samples This might be a weird ask but could there be a mention of them wearing cool wide leg pants and Bucky being like entranced by their hair. The reader coming across as self assured and kind but still kinda shy”
Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, PTSD
A/N: Whoop I’ve actually manage to write a full-scale fic!!!!! It’s been literally like a year since I’ve posted my writing on here but I love this one tbh and I’ve got some more fic ideas so keep an eye out and I’m hopefully going to be posting more!
Bucky’s favourite day of the week was Saturday.
Since moving to the small country town that had been the childhood home of one of his best friends, Bucky swore he spent half his time waiting for Saturdays to come around again.
Admittedly, the first time, when Sam had first told him what Saturday’s meant, he had dreaded them, begging Steve and Sam to allow him to stay behind - he was no good at dealing with crowds of people, not like they were. The two of them had adjusted back to normal life far better than Bucky had - though they had all expected that to be the case, even if they didn’t say it aloud.
Bucky had been certain that there was no chance that he would ever be able to deal with the town’s Saturday market.
But the bustle of the market was completely unlike anything Bucky had expected.
To begin with, he had stuck by their stall, even there he just hung back and allowed Steve to deal with the customers as Sam socialised with people who he hadn’t spoken to in years since he left his hometown.
But then Steve had left him, wanting to explore the market a little more, leaving Bucky in charge of the stall.
There were no loud noises at the market - at least, there were no sudden ones. Ones which he could mistake as gunfire. Or bombs.
There was a constant chatter - happy chatter. Stall owners calling to each other, teasing each other over their products. Kids running around, playing together as their parents did the shopping and caught up with their friends.
It was comforting. Friendly.
Bucky was surprised to find himself looking forward to the next weeks market, even going so far as to offer to manage the stall - Steve could do the shopping, Sam could spend more time catching up with old friends.
His friends had been the most surprised by that development, sharing looks that he knew didn’t quite dare to be hopeful.
They couldn’t be hopeful, not yet.
Not after they had had to cope with Bucky for so long in the duration of his recovery.
Hope was too dangerous.
Now, though, Bucky lived for Saturdays. He knew the other stall holders well, they always had a cheery greeting for him when they saw him, the kids recognised him too and Bucky did his best to slip them free products whenever neither Sam or Steve were watching.
Yeah - Market days were good days, Saturdays were his favourite days.
The smile on Bucky’s face was practically stuck there. He was certain that nothing could make it budge as he unloaded the truck, preparing for the market.
“You’re so cheerful so early,” Sam complained, and Bucky knew that behind his dark sunglasses, he was glaring at him. Bucky shot him an overexaggerated smile.
“Not my fault you’re a lightweight, Birdbrain,” the nickname causes a pang in Bucky’s chest. It's been so long since he called Sam that, and he can see the shock register on his best friend's face before his expression softens and he smiles a little.
“If you and Steve were better friends then you’d have reminded me that I can’t keep up with you,” Bucky can practically hear the eye roll in Sam’s voice and Bucky throws back his head in laughter in a way that felt so freeing.
“We did tell you, Sammy, on several occasions,” Steve informs him, arms laden with heavy fruit boxes. Bucky thinks fondly of their youth, when there was no way that Steve would have been able to carry even one of those boxes, never mind three.
“Well I don’t remember that so you clearly didn’t do your part of emphasising the importance.”
“That just seems like a testimony to how pissed you actually got,” Bucky commented, beaming at the disgruntled look on Sam’s face.
“Fuck off, Metal Man,” Bucky tenses immediately at the nickname, his jaw tensing. He can see Sam’s eyes widening and knows that he feels bad, can see the worried look on Steve’s face. “Shit, Buck - I’m-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky said gruffly, ducking his head to avoid meeting his friends’ eyes and focusing on setting up the stall.
“Bucky-”
“Tessa’s over there,” Bucky said, nodding over at the girl he recognised as one of Sam’s friends, desperately attempting to catch his eye. Sam looked between Bucky and Tessa, torn between further apologising and catching up with the friend he hadn’t seen in months, her having been away since his return to his childhood home.
“Buck-”
“It’s fine, Sam,” he said, straightening up and shooting his friend a look that practically dared him to disagree. “It’s fine,” his voice was slightly softer with this insistence and Sam’s expression of worry did seem to lighten just a little, though he still seemed unsure.
“I didn’t think,” he told him and Bucky shot him a wry smile, subconsciously pulling down the sleeve of his shirt in a vain attempt at hiding his prosthetic.
“What else is new?”
As Sam walked across the market to greet his old friends again, pulling Tessa into a tight hug the moment that he could, Steve moved to stand beside Bucky, nudging his oldest friend gently in the side.
“You do seem better, Buck,” he said and Bucky shot him an awkward smile, giving a half shrug of his shoulders.
“Apparently that bullshit you told me about country air wasn’t quite as… bullshit as I thought,” he joked, making Steve laugh.
“Next on the agenda is convincing you to come down to the pub with us tonight,” he said.
“Didn’t we drink enough last night?” Bucky groaned and Steve fixed him with a look. “Sorry,” he rolled his eyes, “didn’t Sam drink enough last night?”
“You know it’s different, Buck,” Steve said with a disapproving look at Bucky who sighed, giving him a pleading look back. “You’d like them, you really would - his friends are genuinely nice.”
“I refuse to believe that anyone who voluntarily made friends with Wilson is genuinely nice,” Bucky retorted.
“You’re aware that you’re included in that category, right?”
“Don’t say that so loudly!” Bucky complained, revelling in the laughter that his words brought from Steve, whose head was tipped back, eyes crinkled up in joy.
It had been so long since Bucky had been able to make him laugh like that.
It wasn’t long before Bucky was left alone to tend to the stall, Steve wandering around the market and Sam chatting with his friends. Not that Bucky would ever admit it, for fear of offending his best friends, but he enjoyed the market far more when he was alone.
He spotted her about two hours in. She stood in the middle of the market square, paying no mind to the crowd bustling around her, exuding an air of quiet confidence.
Bucky couldn’t help himself, allowing his eyes to trail along her figure, taking in her appearance. She wore a pair of wide-leg trousers, a plain, loose fitting white shirt. His eyes moved upwards, taking in the features of her face. Her hair was messy, likely from the heat, and there was a small smile playing at her lips, sunglasses perched on her nose. A tote bag swung on her arm, looking as though it was filled with knick knacks and produce from the market stalls.
The woman looked so at ease in the market square that Bucky had an inkling that she, like Sam and the rest of his friends who showed a similar familiarity whenever they were seen around the small country town, had grown up there.
His theory was proved correct when there was a joyful cry, recognisable immediately to Bucky from Sam, who weaved through the market-goers and practically tackled the woman into a hug.
The woman was laughing, not that Bucky could hear her over the chatter of the market, and she seemed to be scolding Sam, gesturing at her bag which had come dangerously close to falling to the ground during Sam’s enthusiastic greeting.
Bucky was broken out of his observations by a sharp poke in his ribs. He turned and glared at Steve who had finally rejoined him, an amused expression on his face.
“You good, Buck?”
“Yeah,” Bucky grunted, shuffling around some of the produce in front of him, just to have something to do.
“Ah come on, Buck, we don’t have secrets,” Steve teased. “What’re you looking at?”
Bucky looked at his best friend, considering him for a moment before sighing and looking back out into the square. Sam and the woman had moved to the side, talking animatedly to each other, bright smiles on both of their faces.
Bucky pointed them out.
“She’s new, isn’t she? I don’t recognise her,” he knew that it was more likely for Steve to recognise Sam’s usual friendship group than for Bucky to, considering that while Bucky tried to avoid the weekly pub-night attended by Sam and all of his friends at all costs, Steve made a point of doing the opposite.
Steve squinted over at the two of them, clearly thinking hard.
“I don’t recognise her either…” he agreed at last. “But I think I remember one of them mentioning that they had a friend coming home soon - that must be her,” a slight smile lifted the corners of Steve’s mouth. “Sam seems happy to see her.”
It was true, Bucky had witnessed many of the reunions that Sam had had with his childhood friends over the time that they had been at the farm, but none quite matched the enthusiasm that he had as he greeted this woman.
It was with a jot that Bucky realised Sam was leading the pretty woman over in their direction and his eyes widened slightly in worry.
The woman was smiling widely now, her eyes glancing towards the stall only briefly before returning to fix themselves on Sam again, who was talking quickly and endlessly, his eyes bright.
“Guys! This is Y/N!” Sam introduced, seeming to cut himself off mid sentence once they were in hearing distance of each other. He clapped a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “She’s one of my friends from school,” he added.
“I was his best friend, thank you very much, Wilson,” Y/N retorted, a teasing edge to her voice.
“You were until you ran off to college!”
“You joined the army, dipshit!” Y/N pointed out, nudging her friend and the two of them laughed. “You two are my replacements then?” She added, grinning at Steve and Bucky who shared a look, Steve looking amused while Bucky was somewhat wary.
“Steve - this is Bucky,” Steve held his hand out and Y/N shook it, smile widening ever-so-slightly. Her eyes looked over at Bucky, though, who was still looking at her with uncertainty in his eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you two - Sam’s mentioned you on the rare occasions he replies to messages.”
This was said with an accusatory side-long glance towards her best friend who rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed.
“You’re coming to the pub tonight, right?” Sam asked and it was clear to Bucky that he just wanted to change the subject. Y/N groaned, wrinkling her nose a little.
“Still not really my scene, Sammy,” she sighed.
“It’s just the old group,” Sam retorted, frowning at her a little. “When was the last time that you saw any of them, anyway?”
“Not that long ago,” Y/N dismissed with a wave of her hand, her face softening once more into the smile that Bucky was starting to think was a near-permanent fixture on her face. “Unlike you I visit home,” she added.
“Well I’m living here now so I think I’m the real winner of that argument,” Sam grumbled, but there was no trace of genuine hurt in his voice.
“Are you two going tonight?” Y/N asked politely to Steve and Bucky, who had just been watching the interaction.
“We’re trying to convince Bucky to go,” Steve supplied and Bucky shrugged as Y/N’s eyes fell on him with a questioning gaze, his lips lifting in a half smile.
“Not really my scene either.”
Bucky doesn’t go to the pub that night.
He was tempted, he confessed to Steve and Sam. Both of whom immediately seemed to understand his motives, a slight smirk on Sam’s face as he promises to tell Y/N that he says hello.
He wants to feel embarrassed - he wants to feel, full stop.
It seems like so long since he felt anything properly.
Y/N had come by early the next morning while Sam was still in bed and Steve was on his morning run. Bucky having fed the animals already was drinking his coffee, waiting for Steve’s return so that he could go running. One of the sheepdogs - the eldest one, Arlo, who isn’t really up for much herding anymore - was lying next to his chair, having taken an almost immediate liking to Bucky and barely leaving his side.
Y/N was carrying a basket filled with baked goods, which she placed on the kitchen counter, seeming at home in Sam’s childhood home. She was dressed more casually, more countryside than before.
Bucky had been sure that she was lying, trying to make him feel better when she told him that she had missed seeing him at the pub - her having allowed Sam to convince her after all. He had expected that to be the end of it.
But then she had spent the entirety of the week convincing him to join them at the pub and, when he didn’t show, she came to the farmhouse and insisted that they had a movie night.
Bucky appreciated her companionship more than he ever would have thought.
“You really love it here, huh?”
Bucky turned around, surprised at the voice, his eyebrows raised a little at Y/N, who was leaning against the fence to the pig pen. Her eyes were soft, her expression mildly amused and yet Bucky caught a glimmer of something else in her eyes - longing, perhaps?
“You don’t?”
“The novelty of being surrounded by animal shit wears off fairly quickly when you grow up with it.”
Bucky grinned at that, walking over to stand in front of her.
“Escaped to the city?”
“And you to the country?” It’s almost a challenge with the way her eyebrows raise, the same confidence that Bucky had seen her exude that day at the market a few weeks ago, when they first met.
Quiet, bordering on uncertain but somehow confident nonetheless.
Her smile was one he was used to now. The butterflies in his stomach were a new, but not unexpected addition that he was slowly learning to live with.
“I’m not going to the pub this Saturday,” Bucky stated, sure that that must be the only reason why she had come out to visit him.
“You know I don’t always have ulterior motives when I come to talk to you, right?” Y/N questioned, her movements casually familiar as she climbed the fence, seating herself on top of it, a feat which Bucky was sure he would never be able to master.
“Is that right?”
“Sometimes, I just like to see my friend,” she agreed, smiling at him and holding her arms out. Bucky rolled his eyes but crossed over to her, allowing himself to relax into her embrace. “I missed you.”
“You came over for dinner yesterday. It’s been twelve hours at most,” but he can’t deny how his heart sings from her words. His come out slightly muffled, having nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her familiar, intoxicating scent.
“Still missed you.”
“Nerd.” Y/N laughs at his retort, lowering her arms for him to step away, which he does, albeit reluctantly.
“You look tired, Buck - are you sleeping alright?” Her eyes were tracing over his features, an expression of deep concern etched onto her face and Bucky was all-too aware of the dark circles under his eyes and the heaviness of his limbs.
“I think you know the answer to that,” he responds with a wry smile.
It hadn’t taken much probing for Sam to inform Bucky that Y/N was a therapist - she had left the small-town country-life at the same time as Sam had joined the army in order to go to university in the city to get a degree in psychology, which she then used to become a practising therapist.
This revelation had made Bucky slightly wary around her at first. Despite Steve and Sam’s endless pleas for him to get the help he needed, he had always refused. He didn’t want anyone to know all the ins and outs of his mind.
“Nightmares?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side a little.
“Remember the agreement about not trying to psychoanalyse me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with talking to someone, Buck.”
“And that someone should be you?”
“No,” Y/N shook her head immediately and Bucky gave a dry bark of laughter, turning away from her and walking further into the pen.
“Scared of what I’ll tell you?”
“You know that’s not it, Bucky,” he could hear her rolling her eyes, could picture the unimpressed expression on her face. “It would be totally inappropriate if I was your therapist - we’re friends, completely unprofessional.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“Of course it is,” her voice was filled with sincerity, concern lacing her words, so real that Bucky’s heart ached to hear it.
“Why do you care so much?”
He doesn’t mean to ask it, not really. But it is something that has been playing on his mind since she first began to make an effort to speak to him, visit him when he didn’t show at gatherings, keep him company at the market.
“Because you’re my friend,” Y/N responds in a low voice that borders on being hurt.
“You can’t fix me,” Bucky spat, suddenly filled with an unexplainable anger that has him whirling around, glaring daggers at her with his jaw clenched, eyes blazing. “I can’t be another one of your fucking success stories so if that’s why Wilson wants you hanging out with me-”
“I’m not spending time with you because of Sam!” Y/N interjected, looking utterly taken aback from his outburst. “And I’m not trying to fix you, Bucky.”
“Just - just leave me alone.”
Bucky doesn’t see her for almost a week after that.
Well, he does. She’s friends with Sam - best friends with him - so naturally they spend a lot of time together and she appears to have become close friends with Steve as well.
But she avoids him.
And it hurts.
He knows that it’s his fault - that he actually was the one to ask for her to stop looking for him, to stop spending time with him.
But he didn’t mean it, not really.
And he misses her.
Misses her in a way that he wouldn’t have thought possible, considering the short amount of time that he’s known her.
It’s because of how much he misses her that he winds up leaving his post at the market on Saturday.
“Hey.”
She barely spares him a glance before going back to examining the stall in front of her.
“Seeking me out to shout at me, now?”
“I’m sorry - I shouldn’t have said that,” Y/N looked at him again, her eyes glancing quickly up and down his body, scrutinising him. Bucky gave her an awkward half-smile, rubbing the back of his neck with his prosthetic arm.
“I’m not trying to fix you, Bucky,” she sighed at last, turning fully to face him, placing down the fruit she was about to buy. “I just want to… try and help you.”
“I know you do… it’s just…” Bucky took a deep breath, tearing his eyes away from hers, not wanting to read her expression when he made his confession.
“You don’t think that you deserve help.”
Bucky’s head snapped back to look at her, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide with shock. Y/N smiles a little, shoulders lifting in a slight half-shrug.
“Therapist, remember? It’s… not exactly unusual.” Bucky looked at her for a long moment before shaking his head a little, recovering slightly.
“Well… yeah. I mean… it’s not just that - it’s… difficult to explain,” he admitted.
“Wanna get some coffee?” She offered. “I’ll pay,” she added when Bucky didn’t reply immediately.
“I should probably…” he gestured back at the stall he had left Steve and Sam manning.
“As much as I’m sure your help would be appreciated, I’m sure that they can manage without you,” Y/N said, placing a gentle hand on his right arm. Bucky flinched at the unexpected touch, his eyes closing. “Come on - let's go.”
It was clear that Y/N wasn’t likely to take no for an answer and so Bucky followed her without putting up any more of a fight.
“Have you been here before?” She asked as she joined Bucky at the corner table that he had picked out to sit in at the cafe that she had brought him to, holding a tray containing two mugs, a brownie and a slice of cake.
“Yeah - Sam brought me and Steve the first week we moved,” Bucky confirmed. “Thanks,” he added when Y/N moved one of the mugs and the brownie in front of him. “How much do I owe you?”
“I told you - it’s on me.”
“Well I’ll have to get it next time.”
“There’s going to be a next time?” Bucky met her steady gaze and felt a smile pulling at his lips, the butterflies still present seeming to warm his chest with a pleasant glow.
“I’d like there to be.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Bucky responded, picking up his mug.
“Who designed your arm?”
Bucky looked down at the metal prosthetic that she was referring to, aware that his expression must have morphed into one of complete distaste.
“Stark.”
“Stark as in - as in Tony Stark?” The shock in her voice is obvious and Bucky can’t help but let out a dark chuckle.
“Rhodey - the guy who was my boss, basically, Steve and Sam’s as well - he’s good friends with Stark, as was Doctor Banner, the doctor who looked after me after my accident. Stark was thinking about prosthetics for a while and I guess Rhodey and Bruce mentioned my name and what had happened… I was unfit for combat, allowing myself to be a lab rat was the least I could do,” he explained.
“It’s… a pretty amazing prosthetic,” Y/N said, a little awed as she looked at the metal plates that made up Bucky’s left arm and he smiled at her.
“Yeah - I was lucky to have people with those connections.”
“You were lucky to have people who care about you,” Y/N corrected gently.
“I know that you’re right,” Bucky admitted, staring resolutely down at the table, examining its every inch.
“About what?”
“That I need to get help,” he responded, finally managing to meet her eyes.
The moment that he read the concern in her expression, his eyes stung with the tears he had been suppressing since his accident.
“I can’t go on like this,” his voice was shaky and Y/N’s lips parted a little, her expression softening and she reached across the table, grasping his hand in hers and squeezing it. “I’m just so fucking tired.”
“I know, Buck,” she whispered.
“All the time,” he sniffed and though he knew he should feel embarrassed by his unexpected show of emotions, with the way that Y/N is looking at him, as though he is the most precious thing in the world, he can’t bring himself to. “Shit - I’m sorry,” he used his free hand to wipe furiously at his tears.
“Hey - none of that,” and she reached into her tote bag and pulled out a pack of tissues, extending them towards him with the same comforting smile that Bucky was slowly beginning to fall in love with. “You’ve kept this to yourself for too long.”
“I know. It’s just so fucking difficult to talk about it,” he told her with a watery smile, another sob shuddering through his body.
“Of course it is,” Y/N said sympathetically, giving his hand another squeeze. “I can’t even imagine what you went through.”
“Will you help me?”
“Help you what?”
“Get help,” and he knows how pathetic he must sound, how desperate and pleading his voice is but he can’t help it. He needs her. He needs her to support him, to help him.
“Of course I will,” she laughed as she said it, as though the mere notion of her not doing so was utterly ridiculous and it feels like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “Whenever you’re ready, just let me know and we can start looking for therapists - or support groups, both! Whatever you think is best for you,” she promised.
Normally it would have felt overwhelming for Bucky to even just hear those suggestions but now, with her holding his hand and smiling at him over the table, with the country air in his lungs, so far away from the battlefield that he had called home for the past few years, with the knowledge that he would be going home to a quiet life of farmyard animals and crops to tend to, it feels okay.
A few months ago, Bucky never would have dreamed of just leaning across the table. Of placing his other hand on her cheek and pulling her a little closer to him. Of brushing their lips together - gently, to give her an out in case she wants it.
But now, with the cheery atmosphere of the Saturday market as their backdrop, Bucky leant over their small corner table in the back of the cafe and kissed Y/N.
Softly and gently. It’s the most that he can manage at the moment.
But Y/N doesn’t seem to mind.
A grin spread across her face and she let go of his hand to place both of hers on his cheeks and kissed him properly.
#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes imagines#james buchanan barnes#marvel#marvel fanfiction
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The Trio is Back - AUgust Day 7
Title: The Trio is Back
Author: Purple_ducky00
Rating: Teen
Warnings: N/A
Relationships: Bucky/Nat/Tony, Bucky/Tony
Square Filled: N2: Didn’t Know They Were Dating
Link: Read on AO3
Summary: Natasha, Bucky, and Tony have been friends since childhood. Everyone speculates that Natasha will have to choose between the two of them. Little do they know she might just choose both.
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Tony, Bucky, and Natasha have been friends since toddlers. The Starks, the Barneses, and Natasha’s adoptive parents were a close-knit bunch who played bridge on Thursday nights, usually at the Stark mansion.
As children, the three would run through the house playing superheroes, Super Mario characters, jedi, etc. The Stark butler, Jarvis, always made sure nothing valuable was broken. They would often rope him into their play. As they got older, they calmed down somewhat. Natasha taught Tony to braid so he could braid her and Bucky’s hair. Both would push him to get more intricate braids. Bucky would recommend books for the others to read, and they had a book club group chat where they would discuss plots and theories. Tony lets them in his lab and teaches them about science.
When the three turned ten, the adults would joke that Natasha might have a hard time choosing between the two handsome boys. Natasha’s fathers said she should be able to do whatever she wanted. Natasha never paid them any mind because Tony and Bucky were her friends. Why did she need to choose?
The three were inseparable until middle school. They never had a falling out, per se. They just stopped hanging out. Maybe they were tired of everyone trying to figure out who liked who, or maybe they just wanted more friends. No one actually knows. Tony became close with his lab partner James Rhodes, who he dubbed Rhodey. He also roped Virginia Potts into his trio as well. She became known as Pepper almost overnight. Natasha basically adopted the “school nerd” Bruce Banner and Carol Danvers, the girl most of the guys hated because she was “too feminist.” Carol, an avid lesbian even at a young age, didn’t care. Boys were a waste of time to her. Bucky was fast friends with Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, and Sharon Carter. Every once in a while, all ten of them would hang out, but it seemed like the legendary trio was over.
As they reach puberty, the comments about them increase. Instead of being smelly boys, Tony and Bucky both grow into handsome young men. Both realize as they grow older that they were kind of into boys and girls. Sure, Natasha is beautiful, Bucky thinks, but so is Sam. He doesn’t know how Tony feels about Nat, and since one of them was “destined” to get her, he decides he will step back and let Tony ask her out. He takes Sam on a date, and they are steady for a couple of months. They split on good terms at the end.
Tony has the same line of thought, and he dates Tiberius Stone for a while. Both Bucky and Natasha hate him, but Tony doesn’t know why. Ty is cultured and handsome, a real catch. So, what if he verbally abuses him and guilt-trips him? That’s the way his father always treats him. Isn’t it normal?
Natasha doesn’t date. She doesn’t care to. If people want to speculate, she doesn’t care. She’s only sixteen, why does it matter if she doesn’t have a partner? Her fathers tell her to take her time, and if she never wants to date, that’s her say.
When they graduate, Tony goes to MIT. Natasha gets in at Stanford, and Bucky’s parents can only afford for him to go to NYU. Tony offers to pay for a better college, but Bucky won’t let him. They keep in contact and see each other every break. Tony finally breaks up with Ty in his freshman year, but he becomes a party animal. Rhodey does his best to keep Tony out of trouble, but even he fails sometimes. When he graduates summa cum laude, he takes his place at Stark Industries. Natasha studies to become a lawyer, and she passes the bar easily. Bucky graduates NYU and saves up enough to buy his own auto repair shop. All are successful and don’t have much time to spend with each other or anyone else, to be fair.
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Jan, Tony’s stylist, sets him up on a blind date with a Jimmy because he “works too much.” He shows up at the restaurant she picks out to only find Bucky sitting at the table to which the maître d leads him. “Bucky?”
“Tony? What are you doing here?” Bucky stands.
“I’m as confused as you are.” Tony sits at the table. “Jan told me I’d be meeting a Jimmy. Who the hell calls you Jimmy?”
“Well, she called you Anthony. I can’t believe you let anyone call you Anthony.”
Tony shoots him a glare. “I don’t. Not sure why she told you that you’d be meeting an Anthony… unless she did this on purpose.”
“What? The parents figure that if Nat doesn’t want to date either of us, they might as well put us together?” Bucky’s eyes snap.
“I don’t know.” Tony shrugs. “But it all seems very suspicious, you know? What do you propose we do about it?”
“I think we should eat dinner and go have fun. We both go home to our own houses afterwards and never try to date again, just to screw ‘em.” Bucky smiles sharply.
“I like that. Deal.”
Tony wakes up in Bucky’s bed the next day. “Well, I guess that plan didn’t work out.”
“Yea… I’m torn up between kicking you out now just to fuck our parents or actually fucking you again,” Bucky comments. “Damn, Tones, you’re amazing.”
Tony colors. “Yea, I had a lot of experience in college. People still like to say they spent the night with me even though I haven’t slept with someone else for months now. I’ve just been busy.”
“Same. Who has time to date anymore?” Bucky shakes his head. “It’s a shame because I would love to have nights like last night more often.” He straightens completely and raises a finger. “I have an idea, and you may not like it, but here me out. What if we were each other’s booty calls? Just whenever we need a quick smash, we text the other?”
“James Buchanan Barnes, you are a fucking genius. I would kiss you right now, except my PA’s probably calling my dead phone, wondering where the hell I am. Can we rain check the next session?” Tony hops out of bed, pulling on his pants. Once quickly dressed, he heads to the door to leave and blows Bucky a kiss on his way out.
Using his watch to ping his driver, Tony heads home to get changed before going to work an hour late. Howard doesn’t berate him as much for being late for work, so Tony wonders if he knew something about his date with Bucky. The thought leaves his mind as he gets started on his day. He doesn’t have time to think about dates or meddling parents.
As the months go by, both Tony and Bucky text in claims to their booty call agreement. Tony is happy to do so, but he finds himself catching feelings for Bucky. He wonders if it’s because Bucky is the only one that he’s in close contact with, which he mentions to Rhodey when they get lunch on Rhodey’s first day on leave.
“I mean, I don’t think it’s a good idea to be fucking the only person you have a steady friendship with.” Rhodey steals one of Tony’s fries.
Tony pouts. “Don’t be like that honeybear. You and Pepper are my friends, too.”
“Yea, but I’m in the Air Force more than 80% of the time, and Pepper works for you. It’s different.”
“You’re just jealous that you’re not getting any.” Tony decides.
Rhodey just smiles. “Says who?” Tony begins to assault Rhodey for details, the topic of Bucky forgotten.
++++++
“Hey, Natasha’s moving back to New York, apparently.” Bucky informs Tony one morning. “My mom just texted me.”
Tony groans. “If this becomes another ‘Why don’t you date her?’ thing, I swear I’m going to move to Tahiti and not accept any long-distance calls. You’re welcome to come with if you’d like.”
“I think we should take her out to dinner one night when she gets settled, just to catch up.” Bucky muses. “Then our parents can’t be mad because we didn’t try.”
“Yea, I wonder how she’s been. We haven’t talked in so long.” Tony agrees. “I wonder if she got a partnership here or something. I hope so. That’d be good for her.”
“Nick and Phil will be glad to have her back. If only my parents were as supportive as they are. You should have seen my dad when I told them I was opening my own auto shop.” Bucky smiles that unhappy smile.
Tony laughs mirthlessly. “I’d be happy if my parents talked to me at all. But being that Howard’s always cranky anymore, I guess it’s best that he doesn’t.”
++++++
Natasha moves back less than a month later with a short, sandy haired man in tow. They move into an apartment on the Upper East side. Once she’s settled, she agrees to meet Bucky and Tony for dinner. About ten minutes in, she asks them, “How long have you two been together?”
“Did someone tell you that we’re together?” Tony demands. “Because they’re wrong. We’re simply booty calls to each other.”
She shakes her head. “No, you’re not. You might like to think that, but you’re in love with each other. No one told me; I can see it from here.”
The two men shift in their seats, not daring to look at the other. “So how have you been?” Bucky asks her.
“Busy. Jenn and I are setting up our own partnership. We’ve gotten a lot of cases lined up, and we need a secretary. There’re two lawyers working pro bono mostly down in Hell’s Kitchen. We might add them to our firm and pick up their secretary as well. I saw them in court for the Punisher trials, and she seems to have her stuff in order.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Sorry for not keeping up with you guys. I barely even talk to Bruce and Carol.”
“Mom told me you brought a man home with you,” Bucky says. “She didn’t seem too happy about it. Are you two dating?”
“Clint? No, he’s just a friend. I’m too busy to date, honestly. I’ve tried a couple times in LA, but it turns out I’m very selective of those with which I choose to hang out. Most men are idiots, and I’m tragically straight. You see my problem, right?”
“We don’t feel your pain, but we understand,” Tony says. “Well, what we should do is make sure the three of us hang out at least once a month. If we want to bring our other friends, I don’t care, but I’ve sorely missed you, Nat. And Bucky, maybe we should spend more time together with our clothing on.”
“You say that now, but what about tonight when…” Bucky begins but stops when Natasha gives him her death glare. “Okay, that is still as frightening as ever. Is that how you win all your cases?”
“No. I’m skilled enough that I don’t need to use that.” Nat flips her hair. “But I’m glad it works on you.”
Tony stick out his tongue at Bucky. “She’d never kill me. Who would give her those amazing scalp massages?”
“Now that you’ve brought it up, I demand one once we leave the restaurant.”
Natasha goes home that night realizing that she missed out on a lot of Tony and Bucky’s lives. If she were being honest, and she is, she kind of relied on their parents’ hope that she would one day marry one of the two. She always acted the way she did because she was equally attracted to both of them, and she would never be able to choose. So, she moved away and let them get on with their lives. She never thought once that they would choose each other and leave her out. She tells this to Clint when she gets home.
“Talk to them. Maybe they’ll share.” Clint suggests before he falls asleep on the couch.
She rolls her eyes. “You have a room for a reason.” Natasha knows he’ll still be there when she gets up to go to work the next morning.
++++++
The trio meets up at least twice a month. Per Natasha’s goading, Bucky and Tony start to actually date. She’s happy for them but seeing them sometimes is bittersweet. She just wants to go back to the times where they didn’t have to worry about feelings. All feelings have done for her were made her sad.
One night, they’re eating takeout in Tony’s kitchen when he says, “You can kill me if we’re wrong, but I want to proposition something with you.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow. This ought to be interesting. Tony proceeds. “So, Bucky and I are very happy in our relationship, but it could use one more thing… you.”
“Me?”
“Yea. We both really like you, and we kind of got the feeling that you like us, too. Are we wrong?” Bucky bites his lip worriedly.
“No, you’re not wrong. I really like both of you. I have since we were kids. I just never wanted to choose between the two of you. When you got together, I was happy for you. I never thought that you’d both want me as well.”
“Why wouldn’t we want you?” Tony asks. “We love you so much. Obviously, we’ll have to talk about how this is going to work. I hear communication is key to any good relationship. I should know.”
“Also, if we all date, that’s one way to make sure our parents don’t get exactly what they want. Instead of you choosing one of us, you chose both.”
Natasha grins. This is a fine arrangement indeed. “I would invite you back to my place, but Clint’s there. Would one of yours work?”
“It’d have to be Tony’s. I just moved in two weeks ago.” Bucky jabs his thumb at his boyfriend.
++++++
Natasha’s parents are overjoyed when they hear the news, Bucky’s parents don’t say anything, but Bucky knows they are a little wary of his relationship. Tony’s parents, on the other hand, are very vocal. Howard has a yelling fit, screaming at Tony until he loses his voice. Maria asks him why he vexes his father like that.
When Bucky and Nat try to comfort him, he shrugs them off, saying, “That’s the first real conversation I’ve had with either of my parents since I was a kid. Don’t worry; I always knew Howard would have a problem with it.”
“It still sucks,” Bucky tells him. “No matter what, you’ve got us.”
Tony knows he’s happy when both his partners cuddle around him in the middle of their California King bed. Throughout all odds, the trio is back together.
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Jeon Jungkook Fics Recommendation
Recent update 200125
[ ❥ ] = Favorite
Kim Namjoon — Kim Seokjin — Min Yoongi — Jung Hoseok — Park Jimin — Kim Taehyung
♠ Our Little Secret; angst
You and Jungkook were never supposed to end up together – he was your brothers best friend. It was frowned upon. But there were some feelings that you could just simply not keep at bay.
♠ The Perfect Husband; angst, romance, drama
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9
Not as cliché as it may seems.
♠ Undo; angst, smut
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 finale
You weren’t supposed to feel anything for him, especially since he already had a girlfriend.
♠ Pick Up the Pieces; angst, drama
“He never love her and it was just a one time thing”. That’s what they told about.
♠ All of Me; angst, drama
He’s taking you for granted. Again.
♠ Golden Daddy; smut
Jungkook’s tired of you seeing him simply as your best friend’s brother, so he decides to show you exactly who he is.
[ ❥ ] Lowkey; smut
Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.
♠ Comfort Inn Ending; angst, smut
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 finale
It was you who Jungkook gave his heart to- that is, until the day you broke it. And it is you now, hoping that some faultlines can be repaired, and that some broken hearts can be put back together again.
[ ❥ ] Duvet Days & Vanilla Ice Cream; fluff, angst
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
Sick of waiting to fulfill your dream of becoming a mother, you stumble across an interesting site called bundlesofjoy.
[ ❥ ] Fierce and Delicate; angst
part 1 | part 2 finale
Jungkook and you had been brought in two different worlds. Jungkook living an unfortunate life and you being controlled by her parents all her life. Despite the imperfect relationship, they completed each other like a puzzle there is.
♠ Sated (ft. BTS); heavy smut
Sin. There’s nothing more.
♠ Moan Wars (ft. Yoongi); smut, a little fluff
After being forced to listen to Yoongi and his girlfriend fucking loudly in the room next to his, Jungkook decides that two can play that game.
♠ Business (ft. Taehyung); smut
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
Discussing business over drinks with Jungkook and Taehyung turns into a night you won’t forget.
♠ Sounds; smut
You’re taking a very interesting course this semester —sound psychology, and jeon jungkook, being the fuckboy he’s always been, has an idea to record you while having sex for the assignment which was given.
[ ❥ ] 2! 3!; fluff. smut
The one at the end of Jungkook’s Wembley Vlive.
♠ Demon Dickin’ Down; demon!au, smut
Every year, on one special night of october, the sex demon hotline is available for any human who wishes to call; and this time, their senior scout is on the field.
♠ Late; angst
part 1 | part 2 finale
With a battle of words taking place in your head, and taking advice and opinions from your brother and his friends, you finally decide to confess to your best friend just as the same time as he does, except for something else.
♠ Regret; angst
part 1 | part 2 finale
Jungkook has been your husband for 3 months now, and when he gets back from work one day, he is cranky, speaking one of the regretful things he could ever say to you.
♠ Accusations; angst
You’re met your best friend after years of separation, and you continue to meet him. This particularly pisses Jungkook off.
♠ Grade; fluff, smut
Maybe getting bad grades once in a while is awarding.
♠ Redemption; angst
You left Korea and three years later you come back with your daughter and he tries to win you back.
♠ Let me; prince!au, fluff
part 1 | part 2 finale
Prince Jungkook always comes into the kitchen for late night snacks and you are the new kitchen staff.
♠ (1) Missed Call; idol!au, smut
He never has time to pick up his phone while on tour, so you leave him innocent voicemails instead. But, when did your mundane voicemails suddenly get so interesting?
♠ Love is Not Over; dad!au, angst
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 finale
Our love is not over.
♠ Tick Tock; soulmate!au, fluff
Where in there is a timer on your wrist which tells you exactly when you’ll meet your soulmate.
♠ Who Am I to You; angst
part 1 | part 2 finale
You were so easily forgotten.
[ ❥ ] Rules; high school!au, fluff, smut
part 1 | part 2 finale
He had one rule and one rule only; no dating in high school, but something might have happened to that rule, and that something might be you.
♠ Eavesdrop; angst
Hearing jungkook say he’s breaking up with you.
♠ Jealousy; angst, fluff
With jungkook being on tour, he couldn’t help but miss you. when a picture of you and a guy he’s unfamiliar with surfaces the internet, he’s furious.
♠ A Mess (ft. Min Yoongi); smut, fluff
Maybe it was a good thing you lost that bet to Yoongi. The punishment was cruel, but it lead you to a threesome with him and your crush so… yay for that.
♠ One Time Thing; smut
“It could be a one-time thing really. No strings attached. Besides, we won’t see each other for another year basically.”
♠ Lost Track of Time; angst
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 finale
You were mad, but he was out of patience.
♠ Smile with Me; angst, fluff
You were having a bad day, but you didn’t want Jungkook to worry. However, Jungkook did worry and he wanted nothing more but for you to smile again.
♠ Rumor Has It; angst, fluff
You built up walls to prevent the rumors from getting to you, but now they came crumbling down.
♠ Dream; angst, fluff
Jungkook had been spending a lot of time with you lately, and Namjoon finally thought it was time to confront him about it.
[ ❥ ] The Kids Aren’t Alright; smut, fluff, slightly angst
Sneaking around with Jeongguk during your Christian retreat is complicated when you’re both dedicated to your jobs as co-youth group counselors at your father’s ministry.
[ ❥ ] The Elite; smut, angst, fluff
intro | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8
Jeon Jungkook is the son of a billionaire with a bad boy image and harsh demeanour. Y/N comes from humble beginnings, having lived a sheltered life unfamiliar to the dark world she is thrown into when her and Jungkook meet.
[ ❥ ] Bad For You; romance, smut
His whole presence emits sin and danger, and you’re not supposed to be attracted to him on the first glance.
[ ❥ ] About Time (ft. Park Jimin); time travel!au, angst
Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?
[ ❥ ] Our Little Secret; smut, angst
“Desperate lips molded against his, and in the kiss, you tried to convey your feelings for him. You tried to tell him that despite whatever decision you made, you couldn’t let him go. You were literally so in over your head for him and you knew you were fucked—but you didn’t care.”
[ ❥ ] Take My Hand; angst, fluff
In which you lose your memory in a car crash, and Jungkook desperately tries to keep both of your lives intertwined. this in itself proves to be a challenge, especially when you can only remember him as the idol you once adored from afar.
♠ Overtime; ceo!au, smut
In which an awkward first encounter with your new boss gives Jeon Jungkook all the more reason to make your job an interesting experience.
♠ Exchanges; spiderman!au, fluff, smut
In which Jeon Jungkook is that friendly neighborhood superhero, you’re the face in the hallway that saved his high school career, and he can’t ever seem to get a grip around you. Even when he makes you scream after a fated accident—not for the reason you may be thinking; get the thought out of your head.
♠ My Beauty, My Blood; mafia!au, single parent!au, fluff, angst, smut
With Namjoon out of the picture, Jeongguk has to step up and be the sole successor to the organization laid out before him. However, guilt doesn’t escape him very easily, and neither does your persistence.
[ ❥ ] Heartbeat (ft. Min Yoongi); angst, smut
part 1 | part 2 finale
You fell in love with a boy who was in love with music, and you weren’t sure if he was capable of loving you the same way. This thought should’ve caused you to move away from him; but, if anything, it just drew you closer.
♠ The Millionaire and His Lover; fluff, angst, smut
Over the course of your lifelong friendship with jungkook, you can’t say that you’ve ever had the greatest ideas, and a fake relationship with the boy you’ve been in love with for years is no exception.
♠ Just Friends; angst, smut
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 finale
Jeon Jungkook was many things. He was an asshole, a tease, and kind of an inconsiderate roommate. But most of all, he’s your best friend and has been since you were 10. When he suddenly confesses his attraction to you and proposes sleeping together, you are smart enough to turn him down. You knew Jungkook; you knew how he moved from one girl to the next. You, too, were many things, but just another notch in Jungkook’s belt was something you’d never be.
♠ Since Day One; werewolf!au, fluff, smut
You’ve been friends for years, and when Jungkook decides to take on boxing gigs to earn some extra cash, you’re apprehensive about it but decide to support him nonetheless. It was your role as his designated best friend. But one night, during the first fight that you decide to attend as his supporter, everything completely changes.
♠ Diamond in the Rough; fluff, angst, smut
part 1 | part 2 finale
When a business heir from Busan, Jeon Jungkook, meets you, a poor girl from Daegu, he doesn’t expect to fall as quickly as he does. He’s been told for his entire life to avoid Daegu, a town riddled with gangs and a history of a brutal murder in Busan, but he can’t stay away from you, even when he’s warned that you’re not good enough for him.
♠ Banter; super!au, roommate!au, fluff
Ironically, some of your best moments are with your archnemesis, the man who you literally fight every other day. But the two of you might be closer than you originally thought.
♠ Stubborn Love; modern-day royalty!au, bodyguard!au, angst, smut
Love is not a choice, this much you knew. for a girl like you, neither was marriage. married off to a prince, you had the life most girls would dream of. but your dream didn’t end with prince charming. yours ended with your loyal bodyguard that you could never have.
♠ Sweather Weather; fluff
When Jungkook comes back from a run and you have the audacity to laugh at his admittedly bad decision to go outside in the rain, he makes sure to take his revenge.
♠ D.Va; smut, angst
It’s a pretty important day for you but Jungkook doesn’t seem to think so.
♠ Navy; childhood bestfriend!au, idol!au, angst
part 1 | part 2 finale
When you thought you’d be making music with your best friend, Jungkook, like how you’ve always promised each other but he seems to have other plans.
♠ T&S; fluff
Toddlers have always hated Jungkook and Jungkook have always hated toddlers.
[ ❥ ] Escape; angst, fluff
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 6.5 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 finale
Everyone has a number over their heads that says how useful they are to society from 0-100. You have a number ‘4’. You leave the city for some peace but you meet your cocky neighbour who seems to get on your nerves.
♠ Sweet Saccharine; fluff, angst
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
Trying your best to stay afloat in a ruthless city, you decide to join the sugar bowl. Who knew the sugar baby business would be this exciting?
♠ Curiosity; smut
When innocent Jungkook comes to you with a not-so-innocent question, you decide it’s easier to just demonstrate.
♠ Fear is Forever; werewolf!au, fluff, angst
Fear in your eyes | Forever and a night
There’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy.
♠ The Wedding Planners; fluff, smut, angst
Jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend Hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly Jeon Jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding.
[ ❥ ] Énouement; mulan!au
War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook.
♠ Prodigy; teacher!au, smut
“Could you just close the door and come over here? You have no reason to rush out, I didn’t post your grade. I want to discuss it in person.”
You swallowed hard at his words but did as you were told, closing the classroom door and going over to his desk. He was looking through the stack of students’ sketchbooks on his desk, presumably for your own. He pulled one of of the stack and laid it in the middle of his desk, and you froze.
You could feel all color draining from your face once you noticed which sketchbook he had pulled out of the pile. There was a Hello Kitty sticker stuck to the top right corner of it, indicating it was your sketchbook.
Your personal sketchbook.
[ ❥ ] Cardiovascular Palpitations; doctor!au, fwb!au, fluff, angst, smut
part 1 | part 2 finale | sequel
It was complicated. But it worked. You two were doctors, cardio surgeons at that. Complicated was usual, it was your business, your work, your lifestyle. And neither of you had time for an actual relationship, for the hours of work for writing heartfelt letters or planning dates out on the beach. Both you and Jeongguk needed quickies in the stockroom, someone to dress up and look hot so he can get revenge on his ex, someone to give a blow job or finger you to relax your nerves before an important presentation, someone to understand the burdens and harsh lifestyle of being a doctor. And somehow in that chaos, you’d found each other and it worked out.
[ ❥ ] Boys Like Him, Girls Like Her; fluff, smut, angst
prequel | part 1 | part 2 finale
Bad boys are bad, they said. And they don’t deserve girls like you, they said. But all you wanted to do was give Jeon Jungkook a chance.
♠ Sleepover; fluff, smut
Jungguk is your best friend’s little brother who invites you to have a sleepover at his place. Nothing can happen, right?
♠ Drunk; alcoholic!au, angst
part 1 | part 2
You fell in love with Jungguk so hard thinking he’s everything you’ve ever wanted. But there’s a one catch – he’s an alcoholic.
♠ Blacklisted (ft. Jeon Jungkook); smut, angst
After departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.
♠ Tattooed Two (ft. Jeon Jungkook); smut, angst, fluff
Your boyfriend’s best friend joins you for a night you’ll never forget.
[ ❥ ] Tachycardia; doctor!au, fluff, smut
When you’d signed your consent for any medical interns to assist your doctor on your routine check-up, all you were expecting was some nerdy, awkward, fresh-out-of-med-school graduate. What you actually got was a man who’d won the genetic lottery in every way possible…and an awful case of butterflies.
[ ❥ ] A Fallen Bookmark on a Thursday Afternoon; angst, fluff
He came to you like the air comes into the train station after the fast arriving of the machine. It comes fast and unexpected, making you hoist your head to look at the long vehicle and the people inside. It is so fast you can’t even distinguish the different wagons. As the train comes to a stop, the wind that it creates plays with your hair, leaving you breathless. That’s how Jeon Jungkook came into your life.
[ ❥ ] The Blue Princess and her Red Rose; prince!au, fantasy, angst, fluff, smut
After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria.
♠ Brother’s best friend; smut
In which Y/n owns a smut blog dedicated to her crush and brother’s best friend, jungkook. it was all fun and games until he finds out about it and acts it out with you.
♠ Room 109; alpha!au, smut
Having Jungkook as your apartment buddy was a lot to get used to. But with one early day, your heat comes up much stronger than usual, and you were desperate for an alpha’s touch.
♠ This Must Be My Dream; fluff, angst
You swore you would never fall for another boy in a rock and roll band. You were doing fine until Jungkook comes into your life with his sweet melodies and even sweeter kisses.
♠ Break the Ice; fluff, smut, angst
There are three rules to become an official Puck Bunny:
1. You have to love hockey. No exceptions.
2. You have to had slept with at least three hockey players. Starters, no benchwarmers.
3. And most importantly, have fun!
♠ Nochu Unsolved; comedy, smut
Cryptid hunting with your boyfriend doesn’t go quite as planned…
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OUAT NJ: BEST WEEKEND EVER
Okay, so last year, I made a big post detailing the entire event and whileI might do something akin to that later, seeing as how I posted so many of my questions (You can find them under my ouatnj tag) and answers already and I’m between feeling like I’m gonna pass out from exhaustion and feeling like i want to bounce off the walls, I thought I’d just write down some highlights of my trip:
1. Meeting My Internet Friends!
After MONTHS and sometimes YEARS of following so many people, I finally got to! @the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt, @queen-mabs-revenge, @thesschesthair, @lillpon, @fraddit, @justmilah, @coaldustcanary, and @freifraufischer were just a few of the ones I spent a fair amount of time with! Also, shoutouts to @killianmesmalls, @dani-ellie03, and @captregina who I already knew beforehand AND to @agntreginaskywalker and @reginamotherfuckingmills who were completely new friends (The latter of whom was a fantastic seat mate)! Seriously, it was so fun and relaxing grabbing meals with you, watching episodes and panels together, and of course, swimming in the amazing Marriott pool!
Hanging out with you all was sincerely the best part of the weekend.
...Almost as much as...
2. BEING CALLED COLIN’S FAVORITE!!!!
I SHIT YOU NOT!
COLIN O’FREAKIN DONOGHUE CALLED ME HIS FAVORITE!
This all started with his solo panel, where I asked him about the development of Rumple and Wish Killian’s friendship (Check the 20-minute mark of his panel). That question was made in about ten minutes at the prompting of the lovely @queen-mabs-revenge and it went better than I EVER could’ve hoped! Colin said I “should be on TV” and had me give the question again!
That’s all well and good, but this story has a part 2.
I get on line for the Rose/Colin duo panel and I’m actually the first one to ask a question (See the first question asked here).
Colin says -- and I quote -- “She’s my favorite. She’s like -- it’s like Michael Parkinson.” After requesting that I ask again (And quite jovially at that!), I ask and he’s just so excited!!!! There’s this look in his eyes and tone of his voice of wonder and Rose says it’s like PHD stuff.
Look, I don’t mean to brag, but I will take pride in knowing that the effort that I put into making good questions brings Colin and Rose such joy! That feeling can never be taken away from me. It’s what some of their fans would kill for and it was an honor for me to have given them that.
I’ve got a few more, but I don’t want to be obnoxious so here’s more under the cut.
3. Witnessing Lillpon meet Colin for the first time.
@lillpon...that was simply beautiful! <3
4. Getting my Funkos!!!
I love @freifraufischer‘s custom OUAT Funkos and I knew I just HAD to have one! With the promise of free shipping for any NJ con goers, I knew I had to have one. After what I promise was an ARDUOS process of elimination choosing my favorite, I eventually settled on the Storybrooke Killian with the short coat (My favorite Killian). About a week and a half before the con, F3 messages me and says I’m getting ANOTHER Funko for FREE, this time a Season 1 Emma. Needless to say, I was floored with excitement!!!
And just LOOK at them!!!
THEY LOOK AMAZING!!! THEY’RE FLAWLESS! THANK YOU!!! <3 I LOVE THEM SOOOOO MUCH! I PROMISE YOU THAT I’LL TRY TO MAKE YOU SOMETHING EQUALLY AMAZING!
5. More Question Compliments!
Yeah, people apparently LOVED my questions! In addition to getting tons of nice compliments from my fellow con-goers, Rebecca Mader called my question “intelligent and eloquently put” at my photo opp with her and during my M&G with Beverly Elliott, she said I should be a writer! Again, my apologies for the bragging, but this is just too COOL not to tell everyone about! It felt like being a superhero: Question Girl!
6. It Felt Fucking Earned!
I’ve brought up my car accident on my page a fair amount, but the recovery from that was an actual nightmare and now follows me through a fair bit of PTSD. I was off weight bearing for six weeks, lost my job in the process, felt horrible amounts of grief the entire time, and anxiety over potentially missing the con. My recovery was a battle that was met with uncertainty at every turn, and the idea of going to this con kept my spirits and hope alive. So to come here and have the best weekend felt...well, as I said above, it felt earned.
7. Validation
This con really validated my sense of self as an OUAT fan in three ways.
First, it allowed me to explore just what I could do. This con made me feel more courageous. I not only asked questions (Something I did last year), but I talked to all of my internet friends, some of whom I used to be so nervous to approach because I simply felt they were in a higher league than me. But (After some blustering), I found that I did fit in and was able to have conversations with them and even about topics I thought I’d never be able to talk about. As someone who constantly worries over a lot of things (And for good reason), I can’t overestimate what a big step this was for me.
Second, it made me feel smart. I know I bragged a lot before, and I genuinely apologize for it, but I normally don’t get a lot of feedback on the things that I do, so to get such big praise from Colin, Rose, Rebecca, and Beverly put me over the moon. I have such pride and confidence now in my writing abilities and my thought processes.
Third, I want to be real with you. Sometimes, I question if I belong in this fandom. I came in on the later side, I don’t fully align with any of the major groups, I’m not especially salty, and aren’t usually part of the running jokes and what not. And those things can make you feel like you’re invisible. And despite having actual friends in the fandom, friends I honestly adore and who I am so thankful for every single day, I’d like to befriend more people!
And this weekend really helped like that. As @killianmesmalls pointed out a few days ago, it was like summer camp and left me with a warm feeling. I felt like I belonged and that’s because I did. It was...just utter bliss.
Extra: PHOTOS!!!!
I wanted to show you all my excellent photo opps!
@the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt and I trying to stop a fight between friends and falling even harder for our captains in the process!
Not a photo opp, but when your puppy makes the big screen, it is a moment worthy of being here!
Colin’s hugs are delightful!
My post-M&G selfie with the most lovely woman in all the realms! <3 Fun fact: she gave me some selfie tips because I’m not the most photogenic person! XD
As evidenced by...
Colin tells a dad joke and Rose just...can’t.
The dad joke since it ended up being too small): When I was in pirate school, I always hated getting my report card. That’s because it always got the same thing every time... Seven Seas! (I actually gave the speech bubble to Rose!)
@fraddit and I stage a mutiny!
Peace may reign over the Mills family, but sibling rivalries never truly end!
So, I was originally gonna do a goofy photo, but I was so caught up with Rebecca’s kind words that I just went for a normal shot. Still, it’s probably one of my favorties of the set.
Thank you for reading this, if you got that far! I’m so sad that the official conventions are ending soon, butI can’t underestimate the fun I had here!!! If you’re going to Burbank, have the best time ever. Talk to people. Ask questions. Make some impulse purchases. Meet that account you’ve been following forever. And keep on smiling the whole way through. <3
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Hello, you have been identified as An Awesome Fic Writer™. Congrats, you rock! So that all of your readers can shower you with some extra love today, please tell us your favourite five stories of yours and why you like them and then send this to another five fic authors you think deserve this title!
okay I hate talking about my own writing because it’s... it’s just eh BUT I’ve been sent this like three different times in the last few weeks so [insert I GUESS! meme]:
5. a lonely hopeyoung justice | spitfire | 1930s au | T | 12kShe is barely sixteen when her world comes crashing down. When her family holds little to their name, and around them, the market burns. When her friends come and go, trying to get by on what little remains of their country. When she falls in love, and it is her biggest mistake—one she never regrets.
God, this is like, the ONE and only thing I’m proud of from my time in the young justice fandom. The rest of my fics were mediocre at best, but this. THIS FIC. I loved it. And as someone who doesn’t really like period dramas, or things set in the past unless they’re like, medieval past, it was pretty big for me. It was my baby, it made people cry, and it was the only time anyone’s ever made me art for something I wrote!! And all the research that went into it was a lot of fun.
4. open the doorteen wolf | thiam | season 7 | M | 35k ongoingAfter the war, things settle in Beacon Hills, and Liam is left to watch over the town with the help of his two best friends, a former hunter-turned-ally, and a grumpy chimera. Then, someone from his past surfaces, bringing along a group of supernaturals they are wholly unprepared for. A week later, five dead residents come back to life, completely unharmed.
This is the only thing on this list that’s still a WIP being posted, but with good reason. I LIVE and breathe excitement for this fic. I went pretty hard into celtic lore for the Big Bad in what is essentially a season 7 fic with the puppy pack, werecats, and the dead brought back to life and I cannot wait for all the twists and turns I have planned. If there’s one fic I have that I’d ask anyone to take a chance on and read, it’s probably this one.
3. three steps from the ledgeteen wolf | thiam | batman au | M | 20kThere’s something afoot in Beacon City, and Scott and Liam must go toe-to-toe with a mysterious new vigilante by the name of Red Hood, who just might be someone from Batman’s past and who seems very interested in his Boy Wonder. Subsequently, old wounds reopen and ancient, once buried memories come into the light, making Liam question everything Scott has taught him. Or, an Under the Red Hood au absolutely no one asked for.
Listen, the batfamily from DC comics is my bread and butter. It’s my jam, okay? There’s so many interesting characters and personalities and they match up SO WELL with characters from teen wolf that I really couldn’t help myself. I love writing superheroes, I love throwing references to canon into fics, and I will never be over how perfect Liam and Theo are as Tim and Jason, especially the arc I took inspo from for this fic. I love this au so SO much, and I’m definitely not done with it yet.
2. just too good to be trueteen wolf | thiam | high school au | T | 56kLiam has the worst luck when it comes to girls. Things just keep crashing and burning. Mason tries to convince him that maybe it’s time to come out, to date a guy instead, but his best friend won’t hear it. So he and Corey decide to find him the ultimate date, someone who’s exactly his type—snarky, tendency to punch people, and tough enough to put up with their volatile friend. Bad boy Theo Raeken is the perfect fit, despite his murky past and caustic personality. And the fact that he won’t do it for free. What could go wrong?
God. GOD. This is the biggest fic I’ve ever written. It started out as a tiny little thing for the romcom day for Thiam movie week but it mutated into this monster that I will love and cherish forever. It’s one of the best things to ever come out of me, and is probably going to hold that title for a long time. Honestly not sure I’mma ever top this. It was so much fun to write, because 10 Things I hate About You was practically made for these idiots, and it’s one of my favourite movies of all time. It was soft, and slow, and it grew as big as it did because writing the friendships between Liam/Mason/Corey as well as Morey with Theo, and Theo and Tracy was a DELIGHT. It’s also the first time I wrote Tara, and Tracy, and is absolutely to blame for my undying love of them both. Oops?
1. take it all awaydc comics | damisteph | timeskip au | M | 30kIt was a mistake—this thing they were doing. It was dangerous and stupid, and they both knew that. But it wasn’t something you could walk away from without consequences, without broken hearts and promises. Without someone vowing to do anything they could to make the pain go away—even if it meant losing everything.
I mean, I said DC/Batfamily was my thing. It shouldn’t really be surprising that the absolute best thing I’ve ever written is a fic for that fandom. My original monster baby, that grew beyond what I had planned for it. I don’t even know what to say, because it’s a fic I enjoyed every minute of. I’d love to go back into that universe, or back to damisteph, because I really did love them. I still do. And writing crime-fighting, ordinary vigilantes with no powers but tons of personal issues in Gotham was a fucking delight.
And that’s it! End credits, close curtain. Nothing else to see here. Those are my top five and I’ve got nothing else. Goodbyeeee
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※ JENNA MARBLES SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. XI ※
here’s sentences from jenna’s 10 most recent videos! feel free to change names/pronouns/zodiac signs/etc.! more jenna sentences
I COOK MY BOYFRIEND’S FAVORITE MEAL
“Is this a leisure suit?”
“This is my own, customized, personal leisure suit.”
“I’m pretty sure that you got that out of my closet.”
“I bought it today with your credit card.”
“She drank wine, demanded greatness, and I delivered.”
“I guess it’s only fair - you did all that cooking for me, now I’ll do it for you.”
“I’m looking forward to the fact that you’re not going to be in the kitchen.”
“I should’ve never made this video.”
“Thank you, this is actually helpful.”
“Get your beer off the cutting board.”
“This recipe really requires a lot of knife skills that I don’t have.”
“How many times have things caught on fire?”
“I like this encouragement.”
“Seven fucking hours later, I’m still cutting these carrots.”
“I didn’t do that with you… I mean, I did, a little bit.”
“You’re not banned from the kitchen, with no arms.”
“I mean, I’m not the most gifted chopper, but this is nice and even.”
“This isn’t really looking that right.”
“This is not dough whatsoever. This is just a bowl of flour.”
“People make dumplings for fun?”
“Don’t worry, all you have to do is individually, carefully craft them by hand.”
“You asked me what I wanted, and I told you.”
“I’m hungry. I want to spend the next seven hours making my food.”
“I feel like this is the kind of dish that would break me. Like, I’m gonna cry.”
“It’s crazy how quickly I can eat one of these.”
“You told me this was gonna work.”
“This doesn’t look good at all.”
“If this doesn’t work, I’m gonna cry, and we’re just gonna starve.”
“It’s so thicc with two Cs.”
“Wait, so you can do this without being fancy, because, do I look like a fancy person to you?”
“I don’t like dumplings anymore, I just decided I’m allergic to dumplings.”
“I wanna move on with my life… I wanna get excited about my life.”
“Don’t cry and sing Dr. Phil.”
“Whoever invented dumplings is a sick, bored fuck.”
“These better be the best dumplings you’ve ever had, because, let me tell you something, it’s not worth it.”
“What year is it…!?”
“Somebody’s gonna die today.”
“That was the best part of my day, right there.”
“This is a terrifying food.”
“This is a violent dish.”
“I feel like they’re too hot to eat… only one way to test it.”
“This was worth all the stress and fury you went through.”
“How did you eat that, that’s so hot…!?”
“Why are all your recipes dangerous? Does it make your food taste better if it’s kind of dangerous?”
“It’s getting everywhere, I don’t like this.”
“I swear to god, I don’t want to go to the hospital tonight.”
“I know you had to be patient today, which you’re not used to being.”
“There’s nothing comforting about cooking these. It’s just violent, and tense, and stressful.”
CUTTING AND COLORING MY OWN HAIR 2
“He should’ve learned his lesson the first time he left me.”
“I’m really having a great time only doing my own hair.”
“A semi-permanent isn’t really a commitment.”
“It’s like a low-commitment tattoo.”
“If this is truly semi-permanent, I can do this shit whenever I want.”
“Guess who doesn’t give a fuck about her hair? Me, bitch.”
“Does this part feel like Doritos? Yeah, it does, but it’s all part of the journey.”
“I have great technique, I’m a born natural, bitch.”
“Instead of wearing a dumpy shirt that I don’t care about, I’ll wear my favorite shirt so that it forces me to be careful.”
“We’re making a semi-commitment right now.”
“Fuck it, let’s go to the Dark Side.”
“Oh, I’m making it worse.”
“Listen to that, doesn’t it sound like hair care at it’s finest?”
“All you people that joke about not going outside enough and not getting enough sun, try me, bitch.”
“Oh, how did this happen?”
“Why do we even bother wearing gloves?”
“I’m excited to see just how semi-permanent this is.”
“I am second guessing my methods.”
“Give me your honest opinion. What do you think?”
“I didn’t just want this color on my hair. I wanted it all over my face, body, and neck.”
“This is kind of fucking rad.”
“I dyed my hair by myself, at home, alone.”
“It’s dark, it’s fun, I look like a superhero.”
“Don’t even bother with all this parting shit, just get in there and do it.”
“Should I just go full bang? Should I do it?”
“I’m trying to do the most efficient thing.”
“I look like my mom in, like, 1960.”
“I’m trying to get to the point in life where, someday, when my kids see pictures and videos of me, they’re like, who the fuck is that?”
“This might be one of my favorite looks.”
“Boy, who the fuck do you think did it?”
“Why do I feel like that’s not true?”
“You look so fucking cute.”
“It says semi-permanent, I feel like it’s low-commitment.”
“I’m such a big fan of it.”
“Yeah, just give me a score out of ten, be as brutal as you want.”
“We’re gonna do some research, we’ll be back.”
TAKING MY DOG TO MEET SANTA
“That’s a great way of getting kicked right out of the mall and being asked to never come back.”
“I’m really hoping that they let us do this.”
“I don’t think that they allow dogs in this mall.”
“It says no dogs here, but then you see, like, seventy people with their dogs.”
“That was so easy and painless.”
“Never use the words ‘cuck’ and ‘Santa’ in the same sentence ever again.”
“That was so adorable.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t want to bug you guys.”
“Make sure you’re very kind and supportive of him.”
“I like magic and believing too.”
“The best part of snow globes is when Christmas is over you smash them on the ground.”
“Oh, fuck, here we go again.”
“The entire highway’s basically shut down.”
“The air quality is terrible - it sucks to go outside.”
“I spent $80 on this picture.”
RECREATING THE HAMSTER PICTURE
“You know what you’re signing up for, okay?”
“It’s not dumb, it needs to happen.”
“We are going to go rent a red convertible.”
“No, we’re not going to Tuscon.”
“Don’t tell anybody, but we’re faking this whole thing.”
“Alright, we’re fucked already.”
“No one has a fucking red convertible.”
“It’s weird, it’s like it’s not 1995 anymore.”
“You literally took like 100 pictures.”
“This is really stupid, but if we don’t do it, who’s gonna do it?”
“We tried and failed to rent a red convertible.”
“A sincere thank you for wasting your day.”
“We just wanted to make a meme.”
GIVING MYSELF TAPE IN HAIR EXTENSIONS
“I’ve used them, like, five times, tops.”
“It felt wrong, it looked wrong.”
“I feel like I’m missing out on the fun.”
“That sounds like the level of commitment I would like to make.”
“I want to ring in the new year looking like a snack.”
“I watched one tutorial on how to do it.”
“Should I really just go full-blown ‘I’m lost at the supermarket, can you please help me’?”
“We’re already off to a really mediocre start.”
“I hope that you brought a snack and have nothing to do today.”
“There’s no rules, right?”
“I legitimately don’t know how to part my hair.”
“Oh my god, what have I done?”
“Why are you laughing? Is it my scrunchie?”
“This is quite possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“If I was an alien, and I came to this planet, I feel like one of the things that I’d find absolutely hysterical is that we like to wear each other’s hair.”
“I’m in the middle of the hardest part, you’re such a fucking asshole.”
“Is that something I should’ve figured out beforehand?”
“We only have like seventy more.”
“Overall, it’s been kind of a nice experience.”
“It was hard. I tried my best. It was my first time.”
SHAVING MY FACE
“I’ve never done this before. Obviously.”
“I know my appearance is jarring.”
“It takes a lot of work to look this great.”
“You’re quite literally mixing up two of the most prominent X-Men right now.”
“Gambit throws playing cards. That’s it. That’s the end of Gambit.”
“I’m trying to shave my face, not get in an argument about Gambit.”
“He’s just a weird magician that was looking for a group of friends.”
“Do you wanna feel my face?”
“Wanna come over and watch me shave my face?”
“Your skin looks really good, it’s glowing.”
“Now I can do some violent shit to my face.”
“It said don’t shave your eyes, otherwise I would.”
“We’re getting ready, are you getting ready with me or not?”
“I wasn’t allowed to wear makeup, but I put it on.”
“I feel like the payoff is amazing.”
“Why have you been hiding this secret from me?”
“I know this isn’t super duper exciting, but, for me, this is so exciting.”
MY DOGS MEET A CAT
“I ask Julien for a cat just about every day, and the answer is always no.”
“Our landlord won’t let us have any more animals.”
“No, what? That’s not part of this?”
“What this really is is just for you to get comfortable with a cat, and then like it, and then get me a cat.”
“That’s what today’s about.”
“I’m ready, I know you’re ready.”
“That’s the whole day today.”
“Stop making that face.”
“We’re not getting a cat, like, ever. No.”
“Getting a cat will help you be less of an Aries.”
“Sit wherever you wanna sit, do whatever you want.”
“That was a weird thing that you just did.”
“So… do you want to get one tomorrow, or… the day after?”
“I’m right here, and I have not agreed to anything.”
“Don’t pretend like you can’t hear me.”
“Who said that? Benjamin Franklin or Jesus?”
“I don’t know what’s going on.”
GIVING MYSELF A 90′S HAIR WRAP
“I’m shaving every time from here on out.”
“It’s basically a friendship bracelet on your hair.”
“You are much bolder than me, and do your thing.”
“Get you a man that pumps you up.”
“What camps did you go to when you were a kid?”
“Rules are made to be broken, sister.”
“Where are you going? Why are you leaving?”
“Are you calling me a preteen right now?”
“Oh, this is hard to do on yourself.”
“When you take a shower, this thing stays wet for fucking days.”
“On a scale of one to snack, how are you feeling?”
“We didn’t have lettermen jackets in seventh grade.”
“My first kiss was in seventh grade.”
“Do you know how hard it is to play clarinet with braces?”
“What the fuck is the big deal? This sucked. I hated it.”
“Oh, damn, you’ve been dating older girls for a while.”
“This takes me back so hard, wow.”
“No one please remind me that I fucked this up or else I’ll be very upset.”
“I feel like this a thing that twelve-year-olds and grandmas would be like, hell yeah.”
“That’s like buying a coloring book colored.”
“I have yet to do something that I really didn’t enjoy.”
“I worked hard on this for six minutes.”
“We’re not friends anymore.”
“In case you thought I was done here, though, you’d be incorrect.”
“She was my favorite singer in the 90’s, and then I graduated to Sarah McLaughlin.”
“First of all, this is a deadly fucking weapon.”
“Ow, don’t pull it, oh my god, don’t pull on it.”
MAKING TERRIBLE HOT GLUE CRAFTS
“I got, like, physically angry. I got hot in the face, and was kind of mad.”
“The things that people will do with a hot glue gun and call it a hack is just… beyond.”
“I cannot justify spending my time that way.”
“If anyone’s actually going to sit down and do these crafts, it’s going to be me.”
“Yeah, I’ve got some time to kill and some glue to waste.”
“Do you see my hands shaking already? Like, I’m tired. This is exhausting.”
“I’m a little confused as to why you’re spending this kind of money to glue yourself a pair of shoes that have holes in the bottoms.”
“I’m just gonna do it on my table because I’ve stopped giving a fuck.”
“I have strong, meaty arms which sometimes look fat in shirts.”
“I’m not trying to stifle anyone’s creativity, but this is a fucking waste of time.”
“I think this is a very loose definition of ‘shoes’.”
“I’m just sort of waiting for it to be over.”
“I’m just settling for blobby blob mess at this point, because I just don’t care.”
“This design is flawed.”
“They’re not structurally sound anywhere.”
“After a couple of seconds, it physically starts to hurt.”
“They’re not shoes at all, this is not okay.”
“This doesn’t feel good, and they don’t work.”
“I will never get this part of my life back.”
“No, you can’t do this, it’s not okay.”
“This is not a solution to any problem, this is a mess.”
“I don’t care about the rest of this paper, I’m not going to use it for anything.”
“I love my money. I love just taking it and dumping it in the toilet.”
“You could maybe wear this for fifteen minutes before it inevitably broke.”
“Just because you can make it, doesn’t mean you should.”
“This does not work, this does not work, this doesn’t work, okay, it’s working.”
“I’m trying my best, I’m not trying to fuck this up.”
“Does it look good? Does it look like tears and sadness?”
“I’m mad at myself. I can’t believe I’ve done this.”
“I really can’t handle another time like this. This is a dark time.”
“I did it, and I’m here to tell you it’s not worth it.”
“I feel sad on the inside, I don’t like it.”
“These are not life hacks. Do I look like someone whose life is better after doing this?”
“They don’t work and it pisses me off. This is a lie.”
“This is what happens when you leave. You can’t leave. You have to stay.”
“Does it look better like this? No — that’s worse. That’s worse, I’m sorry.”
MAKING OUR FAVORITE SOUP
“I’m just having one of those days when I just want to curl up under a blanket.”
“I’m sick.”
“I’m having a day where I’m not a person.”
“I’m so sorry, man, it’s just not in the cards for today.”
“I know you have days like this, too.”
“It doesn’t matter when you’re having a day like this.”
“I’m the best chef.”
“Just to be clear, you don’t want to go to the ER?”
“What’s going on with your pants?”
“I’m gonna go ahead and burn myself.”
“Maybe, instead of going out for a date right now, we can, when we sit down and have dinner, we can light a candle and hold hands the whole time we eat.”
“I’m large.”
“I’m gonna eat once now and once in two hours and it’s gonna be gone.”
“Do you think we have a tablespoon? Because I’m not going to the store.”
“Don’t listen to him, that is not true.”
“It’s really good, I burnt my tongue a little bit.”
“First of all, it’s amazing, second of all, it’s amazing, third of all… what?”
“Literally walking through the middle of TSA - that’s a bad time to have soup.”
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today was....mixed. it had some good parts and some not so great parts, and I’m leaning towards the not so great parts right now because I’m stressed of course and like....I really think I’m going to flunk the bar. like not being dramatic, I really think it’s going to happen. I wasn’t diligent enough in studying and I consistenly get a large percentage of the practice questions wrong and I can never recall the stuff even when I did study it and like....I’m so fucking stressed out about all of it and like, it’s the worst. but, let’s start with the beginning of the day. My alarm was set for 8:45, the plan was to get up and buy tickets for New York Comic Con when they went online at 9 am, then after that I would take a shower and get ready, then uber to church because I’m annoyed with my current public transportation options. well, that’s not exactly what happened. I did wake up at 8:45 and brushed my teeth, and was sitting at my laptop waiting for it to hit 9 am, and legit as soon as the clock turned to 9:00 am I clicked the link, and was set to a site telling me I’m in line and not to refresh the page, it will update when it was my turn. so I waited. I mean, I clicked it right away, how many people could actually be in front of me? WELL. turns out it was a lot. I legit sat there staring at the page waiting for it to update for over a half hour, when I legit clicked it as soon as it went on sale....and then finally at like 9:35 it updated and I was able to click through quickly and enter my information (you’re on a 15 minute clock to fill it all out) and was able to get tickets for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday as we planned. I had been talking to Jess while we were waiting since we’re going together, and she hadn’t gotten through yet and was kinda freaking out, so I did my best to comfort her until she got through like 5 minutes later. Well, at this point it was too late to make it to church on time, so fuck that, Jess was still freaking out a bit so I suggested we go get breakfast (I mean I first suggested that we go get ice cream but none of the places opened till 11, so then I suggested breakfast) at this little place that’s pretty much exactly at the halfway point between our apartments that does breakfast and we’ve never actually eaten there, so I got dressed and headed over there to meet up with her. It was actually not terribly hot out at that time of the day (it got horridly hot afterwards of course) so we sat outside and ate, I got french toast because I’m predictable and Jess got a veggie omelete because she’s also predictable, in food choices at least, and we talked about plans for upcoming cons and trying to figure things out, which is of course an ongoing conversation because there’s always another one coming, and of course she’s going to SDCC in like four days (which I am just absolutely so happy for her about and definitely not jealous at all) so we were talking about outfits and cosplays and figuring out the phone conundrum so she can actually have a working gps while running around an unknown city. So we had a good breakfast then parted ways, I was hot at that point and I had a bunch of bath bombs and bubble bars from Lush that I never actually used because I never really wanted to take a bath at night or had the time in the morning, but I had some time today and I figured it would be a good opportunity to use one, so I drew a fairly cool bath because it was so fucking hot and used a pink bubble bar, which of course turned the water pink. So I continued to take a bath, which included washing my hair, and since I used my color depositing conditioner on it yesterday it always washes out as like neon pink, and when that got combined with the already pink bath it became like, the most intensely pink bath that ever existed and I was amused lol. The live podcast episode I was on a few weeks ago was released today so I got to listen to myself on that, which was an odd experience, but I definitely enjoyed hearing myself rant about AvaLance and Sara Lance and why she’s my favorite character on all of tv, and then of course me trashing Elongated Man (I think the phrase I used was “I didn’t order this) and knock off Batman Green Arrow and how I now have to qualify my statements that GA is my favorite superhero with “NOT the Arrow version.” So that was fun to listen to. But I finished that and then went to studying, trying to knock out the lecture I had for today, it was like an hour and 47 minutes so not so bad. basically I’m going to try to do one lecture a day for the Illinois essay subjects that I missed by switching over late, so I’ll at least have something to go off of if I get a question based on it, because right now I don’t know jack shit about them, like one of them is commercial paper, what the hell does that mean??? so I obviously need to get that done. So I got through the lecture and then started working on the other review exercises when I got a message from Jess asking if I wanted to get ice cream because it was HOT and I’m weak and can never say no to ice cream, so I headed out to meet with her and then walk to the ice cream place. It wasn’t too crowded when we got there, but after we had ordered and paid there was a huge influx of people, like a group with about twenty children with them, so it looks like we hit it at just the right time. I tried their lemon meringue ice cream that I’ve considered for a bit now and I honestly wasn’t crazy about it, but oh well, it was still good because it was ice cream. So we sat at a table and ate our ice cream and talked for a bit before heading home because it was getting super crowded and we didn’t want to take up a table when we had finished eating. So, back to studying. I’m really bad at like, reviewing my notes to study because I’m so impatient, but it also makes me anxious because I know I don’t have any of this shit memorized and I’m gonna just be so fucked over. But yeah, did that and finished up the assignments for the day. I was considering doing another lecture since I had some extra time and I had thought I checked the fed income tax video and it was only like 30 minutes, but I must’ve checked the wrong thing because when I brought it up it was a full 4 hours and it was already 6 pm after a solid 8 hours of studying and like.....that’s not happening. But I kept the tab open to do some extra work when I got a chance. I had a few random things I had to do, my dad wanted me to review some blog posts one of the girls who works in his office had written because he wanted me to clean them up a bit. They weren’t anything extraordinary, it showed a bit of lack of knowledge on some of the finer points of law, and there were a bunch of awkwardly phrased sentences, and instances when it was apparent she basically used a thesaurus to get a more complicated word, except the meaning was off and I had to change it back to the simpler word that actually conveyed the right meaning. Then I did an article draft for when the legends trailer comes out for the podcast website, then finally updated the company tumblr which was WAY overdue, it had been 3 weeks, which I’m pretty sure is the longest I’ve gone without updating it (of course it didn’t effect the posts because it’s on a 6 posts a day queue) but if I let the queue deplete too much I can lose the system I use to queue the posts (I would try to explain it but it’s absurdly complicated lol). And I decided to watch Heathers the movie since I had nothing better to do and I’m quickly becoming obsessed with the Heathers musical cast recording and have been listening to it all day, so I figured I should see the source material. It was an interesting perspective to see the musical based on the movie first and then see the movie. I thought they actually stuck pretty close to the plot as far as those things go, the musical lifted a LOT of lines directly from the movie but I think they made it work for them so I can’t really complain about that. I do like that the musical gives us the part where we see how Veronica got in with the Heathers to begin with, the Martha friendship was the only other really major change, which I was kinda meh about because she’s not that big of a character. So I liked the movie a lot, Winona Ryder is awesome and she was a great Veronica. But after that I watched like two episodes of Nailed It before switching over to 30 Rock and then eventually getting ready for bed. I’m like, majorly tired now and my eyes no longer want to be open, so I’m going to close this out here. Goodnight darlings. Have a lovely Monday.
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heavy wings grow lighter pt. 2
show me your love
find it on:
ao3
Trini keeps a lot of shit under lock and key, you know? And she’s—she knows it’s not super healthy or whatever, she really does, but it’s easier than confronting a lot of things and sometimes easier is the best option, at least in her house or in Angel Grove or in her life in general. Which is sort of why she’s refused to tell any of her friends about The Thing.
Or The Things, technically. It’s sort of an ongoing problem.
Which—okay, she’s being cryptic as hell and she knows it. The truth is this: she’s getting bullied, like, a lot. It started pretty soon after her family rolled into town and Trini suffered through her first day at Angel Grove High; she was the only new kid in the last four or so years it seemed, and was therefore the biggest target available to the wildly deprived assholes that inhabited the town.
It started with little things, like her gym locker getting trashed and her uniform ending up in the pool. Then it moved up to things like getting tripped in the halls or blocked on the stairs so that she had to sprint to class or risk another tardy mark that would for sure get reported back to her parents. And then, finally, it moved onto her locker getting defaced and her occasionally getting cornered by the cheerleaders and pushed around. On very bad days, these particular two events overlapped and truly fucked Trini’s life over.
The bullying took a little break right after the universe decided to stick her with weird superhero powers; she rode the wave of curiosity that followed the unlikely formation of an entirely unprecedented new social group for as long as it lasted, but she knew that ultimately it wouldn’t stop everything in its tracks. At some point, Angel Grove would get over the fact that Jason Scott and Kimberly Hart were now friends after years of decidedly not being and were now hanging out with the likes of Billy Cranston, Zack Taylor AKA the Kid That Barely Shows Up, and The New Girl That No One Bothered to Actually Know the Name Of; when they did, it would be business as usual.
What Trini didn’t account for, of course, was the fact that now she had friends and that said friends actually gave a shit about her wellbeing and that hiding shit like constant bullying was really hard when people cared about you.
She got pretty good at it though, figured out new ways of hiding shit in the months that followed Rita and her golden boy. Along with figuring out how to explain the new scars on her neck to her parents, Trini also learned the best times to get away from the rest of the rangers to do damage control on her locker or fish her decoy gym uniform out of the gutter or reorganize her papers after they’d been knocked out of her hands during passing period.
She’d thought she was doing a good job of it too—that is, she thought so until Jason asked her to hang back after training a few weeks ago.
He’d been gently concerned about her at-times suspicious behavior, but he didn’t press too hard or ask too many questions, and, bless him, he mostly accepted Trini’s excuses at face value; they’d had a few months on the team together, but they were hardly close enough for him to really be able to question her answers.
Something out in the great wide universe must have been looking out for Trini, because she knows that if it had been Kimberly that had noticed her odd disappearances, the conversation would have gone wildly different.
As it stood though, it still spooked Trini, pushed her to pull back a little, drink more and talk less at their weekly campfire nights. Jason didn’t bring it up again, not to her at least, and she was fairly confident that he wasn’t the type to gossip. They kept on as usual, though Trini started to put in more of an effort to hide the evidence of The Things from her fellow rangers.
Quite frankly, she’s not sure why she wanted to hide it at all. Well—in the beginning, at least, she knew and her reasons made sense. She hardly knew them, they didn’t even know her last name, and just because you almost died with four other kids from school doesn’t mean that they’re suddenly your best friends (even if that’s—well. Even if that’s sort of what they are to her, now). The bullying thing was something she didn’t want getting out necessarily, particularly not in those early weeks when she was still trying to get a read on everyone.
And then—? Well, the moment sort of passed. Then they were all too far into the team and their friendships and their ranger dynamics for Trini to just casually mention at the next campfire oh, yeah, by the way, I’ve been getting tormented for a year, no biggie.
Okay. Well. That’s sort of bullshit, too.
She knows why she’s hiding it, holds it deep, holds it in her bones. Trini’s—she’s never really had friends? Or—maybe at one point she had, but she’s buried so much of her past so deep, it’s honestly a struggle to remember what was real and what was a daydream she built up around herself, to fill in the gaps.
Regardless, she’s never really had close friends to entrust with this sort of secret, the launch codes, the weird painful parts of her life that kind of remind her of an old bruise, where the pain isn’t as sharp as it once was, but it’s still there, a dull ache that echoes, lingers, and pisses Trini off beyond reason. It’s just some stupid kids right? Doing stupid kid things? She shouldn’t be upset over it.
And for the most part, she’s not. She takes the freaks and the bitches and she takes the soggy gym clothes and taunts to die in stride; it’s truly not the worst that’s ever been said to her, probably wouldn’t even crack the Top Ten Worst Moments of Trini Gomez’s Life, which is also kind of why she hasn’t bothered to mention it to her friends, but then—well.
Then it seems as though suddenly the fact that she’s a giant mess of a lesbian—maybe? Maybe lesbian? She’s still—ugh. She’s still figuring that one out, too, trying to find the right word. But apparently, her glaring homosexuality could no longer go unchecked by the cheerleaders, who then made it a big Thing in the locker rooms, always huddling off to the side and glaring at her with eyes narrowed in over exaggerated suspicion as they whispered about how gross it was that the school let a lesbian change in the girls’ locker room.
Trini could deal. She started hanging back, hiding out in a bathroom stall until she’d heard the last of the asshole girls leave and then rushed to shower and change and sprint to class before the second bell rang.
Then it was their refusal to be partnered with her in any shared class when the teacher assigned partners. Some part of her admired how in sync all the girls were, how Rebecca in geometry knew that Kacey in French, two periods before, had demanded a new partner for oral exercises on the basis of “knowing exactly where her mouth has been.”
She could deal with that too. She even dealt with it the first several times some of them had roughed her up, tripped her so that she landed on her face in the hall or shoved her into the lockers towards the back of the school, late enough so that there weren’t witnesses that cared to step in on her behalf.
She even took the first slur with her head held high.
Subsequent ones, though—they brought her a little lower, every time.
Some of that was because she heard the same or eerily similar things at home, out of her mother’s mouth as she argued with Anderson Cooper on the news or repeated—and then agreed—with what Jeanine-from-church said about The Gays and Their Agenda.
And the other girls could tell, Trini thinks, could sense that they’d finally found what they could use to make her break. They pressed a little harder each time, found wildly creative ways to use the same words in some new, awful manner, faked sympathy and then twisted their symbolic knives a little harder when Trini started flinching when they appeared.
She withdrew even more, though this time it wasn’t a conscious decision as much as a knee-jerk instinct. Some part of her still looked at former golden boy Jason Scott and disgraced queen bee Kimberly Hart and screamed danger.
Kimberly definitely noticed, her smile dimming a little each time Trini shrugged off her hand on her shoulder or sidestepped what would have been a hug and—jesus, that was a torment in itself, being so incredibly weak for this girl and knowing that she’s the reason for—for her smiles lessening and her hugs decreasing, for the way Kimberly started to draw into herself too, a mirror to Trini’s own self-imposed isolation. It was awful and it only made it worse, really, made it easier for Trini to convince herself that Kimberly must know about her stupid crush, must know it’s better to let Trini down easy now, let her pull away and break her own heart.
It’s stupid, how deep she is for Kimberly Hart. How much time she spends thinking about how soft her hands are or how her hair might feel twisted around Trini’s fingers or how Trini’s name might sound falling off those lips, half a sigh after they’ve kissed. How much forethought she has to put into each and every interaction that they have, just in the hopes of trying to keep a lid on this.
It’s stupid and Trini’s stupid for letting it get so far, be so obvious.
At least, that’s what Amanda tells her.
“You really think Kimmy’s got a soft spot for a little dyke like you?” the taller girl says, saccharine sweet. “You think she won’t hurt you the way she hurt me?”
Trini stays silent, glowers at the semi-circle of cheerleaders that have slowly but surely backed her up against the wall. All she can taste is copper, iron, and there’s blood in her teeth because her lip split when Amanda shoved her face first into the lockers. Her head is throbbing and this is all because she fucking—all because she couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut when she got to school a little early and caught the cheerleaders writing dyke on her locker. All because she had the nerve to hiss, “For fuck’s sake,” and not quite enough self-preservation to run the moment Amanda turned around.
“I’m looking for an answer, bitch,” Amanda grins. “Do you think you’re safe from how Kimmy treats her friends?” And the way the girl leans on the last word, lets the weight of the sentence rest there, it has the hairs at the back of Trini’s neck on end, has her glancing towards the stairs, towards the window, towards any and all exits, anything to get away—
“Aw,” Rebecca coos. “I don’t think she wants to be Kimmy’s friend. I think the she wants to be her girlfriend.”
Amanda scoffs. “Predictable,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “You’re, like, straight out of a shitty YA novel, the tragic queer. What? You going to cry or something?”
That’s when Trini notices how blurry her vision’s getting—although, to be fair, some of that is probably due to the fact she feels like she’s not breathing.
“Fucking cry then. Start getting used to it.” Amanda shoves her again and Trini’s head snaps back, probably cracks the wall, but no one’s paying attention to that because Amanda’s getting into her space, sneering down at her. “Kimmy’s a bitch, but she’s a bitch with standards,” she spits. “And you, DeDe?”
She pauses then, steps back and looks to her left, to a smirking Rebecca, then to her right, to another cheerleader Trini recognizes from when Kimberly was still friends with them, still existed only in theory, in passing, a concept and not a real, living person that Trini knows wakes up from nightmares in a cold sweat, that she knows dances around her room in her underwear, singing into a blow-dryer just to make Trini smile. She knows that Kimberly hates flying when it’s not with her zord and is a lot lonelier than she’ll admit, that she misses her parents and wishes they’d maybe spend more time at home—she knows all that, all these little things about Kimberly that she desperately tries to ignore, but has carefully noted, sorted, and filed away for reflection.
Trini regrets falling for Kimberly a lot, but never so much as she does now, picturing Kimberly’s face that first day with the rangers, remembering how she’d not even known who Trini was, remembering the times they’d passed each other in the hall or sat next to each other in class and she hadn’t even looked at Trini, remembering how small she felt—feels as Amanda continues.
“You’re nothing,” Amanda tells her plainly, primly. “You’ll always be nothing, especially to Kimberly.” She steps forward again, raises her hand. Trini expects a slap or to get pulled to the ground by her hair, but then Amanda’s hand is gently patting her cheek, condescending as she adds, “I’m just looking out for you. Because if I were you, in this situation? I’d probably just off myself.”
Rebecca and Harper are the first to laugh, the other cheerleaders joining quickly. Trini drops her eyes to the floor, to their feet, keeps them there until the matching pristine white tennis shoes retreat, turn and saunter away. She waits until she hears their laughter disappear down the hall, the stairs, out the back doors towards the field for early practice because it’s a home game tonight and—and god, she remembers this because from her first fucking day at Angel Grove High, she had a dumb fucking crush on Kimberly Hart and tried so fucking hard to ignore her, which, of course, only resulted in her paying way more attention to her than she ever wanted to.
Aching and furious—with the world, the cheerleaders, Kimberly a little, but mostly with herself—Trini pushes up off the wall and crosses the space between her and her locker.
The word is there still, and Trini’s this close to laughing at herself for hoping that maybe this has all been one awful nightmare. But the letters are bright and red and she hears them as they’re intended to be heard, in Amanda’s voice, her mother’s voice, in Sarah from Reno’s voice. All accusatory. All right.
She’s stupid to have let any of this go so far. She’s stupid and sick and wrong and nothing—she’s nothing, not enough, never enough.
Trini’s not sure how long she’s been standing in front of her defaced locker, but her face is wet when she comes to, remembers where she is. Her face is wet and her chest is aching and that’s when she notices that she’s heaving, sobbing, an awful, silent, full body kind of sob and she’s never been so incredibly grateful for her hard-won ability to cry quietly.
Class lets out soon for lunch, she knows that much, so she opens her locker, slips out anything that’s worth anything to her and leaves the door ajar, like she’d told Kimberly to do when it was her, when Trini had no idea how fast she’d fallen, when she took one look at the other’s girl face, her haughty expression plastered over real pain and she’d known so immediately that she was going to do something very stupid to get that look to go away.
And now—a few missing textbooks are worth it now, she thinks, if it means that other people won’t know about this, not right away at least.
Trini takes the fire exit stairs to the roof, let’s herself break and wail through the duration of the lunch bell, when she’s certain that no one will be able to hear her, superhearing or no. Lunch passes slowly while Trini sobs out a year’s worth of breakdowns, all bottled up and buried for so long.
How clichéd is she? Breaking down the minute some mean girls figure out her one actual insecurity—pathetic.
From the roof, she can spot Jason heading back into the building from the parking lot, his arms full of fast food bags that he no doubt skipped fourth to go buy to surprise the rangers. Trini wonders if he’d have remembered that she liked strawberry shakes, not chocolate. He probably did and the thought of that has her crying again, shaking at the thought that anyone would pay that much attention, would bother to note such a minor thing.
She gets a few texts over the course of lunch, a couple from Jason, Kimberly, even Billy, asking if she’s going to be at lunch today. She’s been skipping the last week of lunches, opting for the quiet that the back of the library offered over the company—and scrutiny—of her friends; when she doesn’t respond to their texts, they don’t seem too worried. Kimberly sends another, separate from the group chat, asking if she wants to come over after training today and Trini ignores that one too, tamps down the weird somersaults her stomach starts doing in response.
She stays on the roof until lunch ends, heralded by the bell, and she stays until passing period ends and even a little after that, until she’s relatively sure that no one will be in the halls when she slips back inside the building. There’s no real way to explain the shame that burns so hot in the center of her chest, no words, just the memory of her mother, glaring at the TV and changing the channel when the local news covered LA Pride last summer, asking whatever happened to family friendly programming.
There’s a janitor’s closet down the hall from Trini’s locker; she breaks the lock without meaning to when she jiggles the handle of the door, steps inside and lets it swing closed behind her, lets the stench of bleach overwhelm her for a moment while she tries to get a handle on her shaking hands.
Her phone goes off a few more times while she stands there, back pressed to the door, and she forces herself to check it, to remember that she’s a ranger now and sometimes that means the world ends, even if you’re in the middle of a goddamn breakdown.
It’s only Jason, asking if she wants to study with him. Another comes in shortly after, asking if she’s even here, and Trini can’t figure out how to answer without starting to cry again, so she shoves her phone back into her pocket, grabs some paper towels and cleaning fluid and heads back into the hall.
None of her textbooks are missing, so she takes them out to build a little step for herself, to bring herself up to eye level with her fucking ridiculously high locker. The door creaks ominously when Trini swings it closed, and her fingers leave a little dent in the bottom edge of the metal—not enough to warp it so it can’t close, but enough that it sticks a little when it meets the lip of her locker.
And then she’s facing it, again.
To her credit, Trini manages to not start crying again, but she does freeze a little, lose touch with reality just a bit, the hallway going out of focus around her and her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She can’t—
shit, she doesn’t want to imagine her mother’s face if she were to see this, but she does anyway, sees the way her mouth would set and jaw would clench and the way her expression would twist. How she’d get so angry on Trini’s behalf, but not for the right reason, not because she cares that these girls used a slur against her, not because it hurts in this awful, burning way, not because Trini feels like she can’t breathe when she looks at it—she’d be angry because she’d think it was wrong, because she’d be offended anyone would look at her precious daughter and see a dyke.
Shit, Trini can’t breathe. She can’t—she can’t do this, can’t handle this today. She’d rather be in the pit, rather be thrown around by putties or kicked in the face by Zack, rather be anywhere but here, in this hallway. Some part of her thinks that it would be so much easier to just rip the damn door off, destroy the evidence like she did with Kimberly’s, but that might even be worse, make it obvious that something had gone down and—and honestly, she knows that Kimberly will know what’s happened if she comes to find Trini at her locker and finds a gaping hole in the wall instead.
So—cleaning. That’s her solution.
She’s been at it for god knows how long when her coin starts to warm in her pocket. Trini’s mind is hazy enough that she can’t quite remember if that’s a warning for danger or a notice that another ranger is near—she hopes it’s the former, honestly, would take a fight over trying to answer to their gentle concern, their worry.
That thought doesn’t stop the immediate sense of relief, of safety that washes over her when it’s Kimberly’s voice that rings out.
“Hey,” she calls from the other end of the hall. “I’ve been trying to text you.”
Is it too much to hope that she’ll just go away? That she’ll notice Trini’s body language and remember that she’s not worth the effort, walk away before Trini loses what little dignity she still has by having to turn around and drop the lie that everything is fine, that she’s fine, that she’s worth Kimberly’s concern and care. That she’s worth anything.
“Huh,” she says in response, but her voice sounds like she’s underwater, at least to her own ears. And then—there it is, the switch, the hand off. Trini goes on autopilot, offers a weak excuse about not checking her phone and then—god.
Then Kimberly is closing the distance between them, stepping closer and closer and she asks, “Are you okay?” and her voice is so quiet, her concern so apparent. Trini shrinks under it. “Hey, T,” she says, so much closer, just a few feet between them. “I’m worried about—.”
Trini snaps.
“I’m fine,” she cuts Kimberly off, because she thinks she’d probably start crying if she didn’t. Subtly shifting her weight and straightening to her full height in an attempt to block her locker from view, Trini adds flatly, “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
“You’ve missed three.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, tries to ignore the lump in her throat. She’s nothing, not important, and there’s no way Kimberly actually cares so much as to notice her absence. “Zack’s missed the entire day,” Trini deflects.
“Zack’s Zack,” Kimberly throws back, her voice coming from just behind Trini now, just over her shoulder. Trini’s heart pounds and she clenches her fist around the towel in her hand. She can deal, she can manage this—she just needs to keep Kimberly away from her locker a little longer. “—if you’re planning on skipping.”
Had she been talking this entire time? Shit. “Can you drop it?” Trini snaps abruptly, the only thing she can think to say. “I just forgot, okay?”
She shifts again, uncomfortable in the silence that follows, tries to move slowly, subtly to fully block the red ink; if it were anyone but a ranger, she thinks she’d have succeeded.
But it is a ranger that she’s trying to block, and it’s Kimberly, and the world has this shitty way of seeming to slow down around the other girl and Trini feels like she’s moving through molasses when she feels Kimberly shifting behind her, when she turns without a plan, her only thought being that she needs to keep Kimberly from seeing the door, the word.
By the time she’s fully facing her, it’s obvious the Kimberly’s seen it. Her brows are furrowed, eyes narrowed, and she’s already halfway through asking, “Who—?” when Trini’s mind catches up.
“It’s not that bad,” she promises, pleads, reaching up to—to what? Shove Kimberly away? Trini doesn’t trust herself or her strength enough, worries that she’ll send her into the lockers, hurt her somehow and that’s—she can’t stomach that. Not ever, but definitely not today. Her hand hangs in the air pathetically, fingers curling into a loose fist in an attempt to redistribute the nervous energy buzzing in them.
When she looks up, she realizes her mistake.
Kimberly looks downright murderous, her jaw clenched and her face twisted into a vicious scowl. Her eyes, so much darker than Trini thinks she’s ever seen them, jump around her face, from her split lip to her forehead to what feels like a bruise that’s forming on her cheek.
It’s silent for a long moment. Trini tries to prepare herself for how it’ll break, but she still flinches a little when Kimberly hisses, “Who the fuck did this?”
The effect is immediate. Kimberly’s eyes widen and her entire face softens and Trini can hardly look at her, can hardly face the pity in her gaze when she says, “Trini,” so softly and raises her hand so slowly to gesture to her face and ask, “Did whoever write that do this to you?”
She’s about to cry—jesus, she’s going to cry again. “It doesn’t matter,” she manages, finally letting her hands drop to press back against the lower lockers. It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter. I’m nothing. I’m nothing.
“Trini,” Kimberly whispers. “It matters.”
And fuck, fuck that, this has to be a nightmare? This can’t be real. Trini doesn’t deserve this, this softness, this care. Something sounds like metal warping, but her gaze is focused entirely on Kimberly’s hands, reaching towards her and Trini can’t—she can’t really help it? She presses minutely closer to the lockers, pulls away just a little and hates herself for it, for the way she looks down the hall just to check that they’re alone, for being so scared, for being the cause of the little flash of hurt that dances across Kimberly’s face. God, she’s pathetic.
She stares straight ahead, past Kimberly, holds her gaze there while she tries to get a hold of herself, her fear. Kimberly must think she’s a coward and—honestly? Trini feels like one. Maybe she should have stepped up to Amanda. Maybe she should just come out to her parents. Maybe she should have just fucking swallowed her secret back when she was a kid and thought her best friend was cuter than any of the boys she went to school with.
But then Kimberly’s moving her hand to Trini’s wrist, hovering there but not holding, and she’s urging quietly, “Come on. You need to get cleaned up.”
Trini’s moving before she can register it, stepping down off her textbooks, and she says, “You don’t have to do this,” before she can think of the many reasons not to. Everything is happening all at once and not at all, but then the words are out and Trini’s tongue is lead, heavy from lies, so she adds the only thing she can. “You don’t have to help me.”
It comes out as more of a challenge than she meant it to, and she sees Kimberly out of the corner of her eye, half a step from gaping at her. She covers quickly, quick enough that even through the layers of numb resignation, Trini’s a little impressed.
“You’re right,” Kimberly says, breaking Trini’s heart a little more. “I don’t have to.” She takes a step back and for a split second, Trini hopes she’s going to leave, prove her right. She doesn’t, of course, because she��s Kimberly and she’s too wonderful for words, even with all her flaws and fuckups. Her hand is a hair away from touching the small of Trini’s back when she adds, “I want to. You’re my fellow ranger and my best friend and I—,” she stumbles on her words for a beat, before picking back up. “And I care about you. Let me help.”
And I feel sorry for you, Trini supplies. And I can’t stand looking at you like this, like a kicked dog. And I’m obligated to stop the bleeding, as per Zordon and the goddamn Ranger Code.
Kimberly guides her down the hall, around the corner towards the unused bathrooms near the chem labs, shoulders the door open and gestures for Trini to walk through.
“Hop up,” Kimberly taps the counter space between sinks with a small, gentle smile before she turns away to grab a few paper towels and wet them.
Trini tries to fight it, feels disgust roiling in her gut when she can’t, when her gaze inevitably strays to Kimberly’s back and she’s out and out staring at the way her muscles shift under her smooth skin, superhuman strength hidden just below the surface. Her mind wanders briefly, wonders how else that raw power could be put to use and then she’s flushing, furious with herself. She tears her eyes away from Kimberly, stares down at her hands instead, watching at how her skin pales when she presses hard enough, watching how the blood rushes to the surface when she lets up.
“You’re not going to like me very much in a minute,” Kimberly says, breaking the silence.
Trini looks up, catches sight of the soft look in the other girl’s eyes and then her mouth is running off without her again, scoffing, “Doubtful,” before she can consider the implications of the confession.
Kimberly’s smile is blinding and entirely worth the minor moment of panic. “Is that a compliment?” she grins, and this is easy enough, familiar in this weird, warm way. They go back and forth like this a lot, in training, detention, at lunch and during study sessions, sprawled on Kimberly’s bedroom floor—Trini’s a mess around her ninety percent of the time, Kimberly takes it in stride, makes it light enough that Trini’s never left feeling uncomfortable.
It’s easy to see how Trini fell so hard.
“Take it how you want it,” Trini offers instead of a real answer, instead of the words that are pounding at the base of her skull, begging to see the light of day—
yes, Kimberly, it’s a compliment; they all are, everything I say to you is a compliment and I mean them all because you’re kind and so protective of us all, because you laugh at Zack’s shitty jokes and you help Jason with scheduling and hold my hand during thunderstorms and read up on hydroponics because it’s Billy’s new special interest and you’re so careful with us, with me and I l—
Fuck that. Trini lets her eyes close instead, tips her head back a little to face Kimberly better, to make her job of cleaning Trini up a little easier.
When what feels like hours pass with no contact, she opens her eyes.
Kimberly’s eyes are a little unfocused, trailing down the line of Trini’s jaw, to her neck, and her mouth is open just a bit, like she tried to take a deep breath but got distracted along the way. It’s a look of open awe and it has Trini on edge, uncomfortable with the attention being given to her—there’s no way that—that—
She nudges Kimberly’s shin with her toe before she can really consider what that look might mean, offers her a little smirk and a lift of her brow as she teases her, let’s princesa roll off her tongue with little thought, but the gash on her head must have been right above her eyebrow because it pulls at the motion.
“Sorry,” Kimberly says, frowning when she leans forward and cups Trini’s chin carefully, starts dabbing at the dried blood on her jaw. She hesitates for a brief moment, her movements stuttering before she mutters, “Just wondering how someone so small could bleed so much.”
Kimberly’s voice is flat, but she’s obviously trying to lighten the mood. For what it’s worth, Trini appreciates the effort, even if she only has enough energy to let her eyes drop closed again.
She’s not sure how much time passes after that—probably no more than a few minutes, knowing Kimberly’s brutal efficiency when it comes to first aid; Trini’s been her patient several times since becoming a ranger, always seeming to come away with more cuts and scrapes than the boys after training. She hasn’t ever gotten used to it—to having Kimberly’s attention so wholly focused on her or to the way the other girl bites her lip when she’s concentrating or even to the way her own heartbeat always picks up when Kimberly’s this close, in her space.
Trini keeps her eyes firmly shut; her pulse is still up from everything else. She thinks that if she were to look at Kimberly now, she’d probably drop dead from a heart attack or some other cardiac shit.
But then her head is throbbing again and Kimberly’s hissing her name; slowly, groggily, Trini opens her eyes, blinking in the fluorescent lights.
Kimberly makes a choked noise, busies her hands with trashing the paper towel she’d been using, turned rust colored with Trini’s blood, and getting a new one. Her shoulders are tense, her face stony. Trini’s first instinct is to square up for a fight, but she’s tired, so she only sags back against the wall when Kimberly asks again, “Who did this?”
“Kim—,” she starts, because this is her thing, her problem, but—
“Because I just need to have a chat with them, you know?”
If she were less exhausted, she’d glare. Instead, she just grumbles half-heartedly, “I can take care of myself,” and normally there’d be some edge to her sentence, but she just wants to stop talking, just wants Kimberly’s careful hands back on her skin, fixing her up, and then she wants a nap, maybe.
“Yeah, you can, but you don’t.”
Scratch that—Trini definitely wants a nap.
Kimberly’s statement earns a real glare then, because it stings and it’s not true—Trini eats healthy and does yoga, meditates, naps to make up the deficiency in her regular sleep cycle. She takes care of herself in the ways that matter, even if Kimberly doesn’t think so.
But she’s full of shit. The worst part is she does know it; there’s this tiny, rational part of her that spends most of its time laughing at how pathetic she is, taking shit from cheerleaders that she could knock on their asses in thirty seconds flat, or making stupid mistakes at training because she’s angry at herself for letting Zack take a blow to the back when she was supposed to be covering him.
Trini wants to disprove Kimberly, but she can’t and that’s a fucking awful realization.
Kimberly’s wide eyed, concern tinged with a little abject horror, and she murmurs out an apology, says, “That wasn’t fair of me,” as Trini fully processes her revelation, turns her gaze down to her own hands. She hears her suck in a breath, feels this fuzzy spike of concern in the back of her mind, knows that the other girl must be feeling something, must know a little of the weird whirlpool of self-hatred that Trini’s wading through.
Her hand is warm when she reaches out, cups Trini’s chin and lifts her face, catches her eye. “Hey,” she whispers. “What I said was uncalled for.”
And she sounds so worried, so pained, and it hurts Trini to know that she’s the cause of that, that her bullshit is the reason for anyone, least of all Kimberly, to feel like this, like shit—she’s willing to say just about anything, even the truth, to get it to stop. She says, “It’s not,” without a second thought, says, “You’re right,” soon after, stumbling over the words.
It’s the wrong thing to say, she thinks, if Kimberly’s narrowed eyes are anything to go by. She presses her lips into a thin line, studies Trini for a long moment before sighing out through her nose. “Maybe,” she murmurs, dropping Trini’s gaze. “But you didn’t need to hear it right now.”
Later—not a lot later, really, but still, later—Trini won’t be able to come up with an explanation for why those words hit her so hard. Won’t be able to say whether it was the way Kimberly’s head lowered or if it was the timbre of her voice, pitched low and stripped raw, only worsening the ache that centered in the very middle of Trini’s chest.
She doesn’t realize she’s crying until the first tears splatter on her jeans.
Her chest heaves silently and she ducks her head at the same time that Kimberly looks up, catches the movement just out of the corner of her eye. The tears are blurring her vision enough she’s spared the sight of the other girl’s face when she sees her, the salt burning her lip and the scrape along her chin when a few drops trip over the wounds.
“I—,” she sobs, desperate to explain the momentary show of weakness, desperate to explain everything, to take the guilt held in the line of Kimberly’s shoulders away. “I didn’t want anyone to see,” she manages around a shuddering breath, so close to the truth that it comes tumbling out anyway. “I don’t want it getting back to my parents.” I can’t survive that, she manages to keep in. I wouldn’t want to.
Kimberly’s stepping closer hesitantly, unsure, and normally Trini’s so aware of her, so attuned to her that she can tell when it’s her outside Trini’s window without even looking, but—but her body is folding in on itself, shaking, and it’s all Trini can do to stay seated on the counter, to not slide down and run for it. To not jump away when Kimberly’s hands slide into view, reaching out for her.
“Can I—?” Kimberly stumbles over her words, stumbles closer, her thigh knocking against Trini’s knee. “Is it okay if I hug you?”
She looks pale and drawn under the harsh lights of the bathroom, and they’re what Trini blames for that, full stop; she can’t let herself start thinking that maybe it’s not the lights that are making Kimberly look so tired, so worried. That maybe it has nothing to do with their environment at all. That maybe—
No. Fuck it, that’s enough thinking. Trini’s cold and exhausted and there’s warmth radiating off Kimberly’s skin, heating Trini’s knee through the fabric of their jeans, filling the space between them, and she’s tired of fighting the urge to be near her. She’s so tired.
Kimberly catches her when she pitches forward, shifts closer to accommodate when Trini slips her arms around the other girl’s waist, moves to step between her legs and draw her in, arms over Trini’s shoulders. She’s so good—soft and warm and pliant, but solid at the same time, humming and rocking a little while Trini sobs against her, shuddering.
“I’ve got you,” she murmurs against Trini’s temple, over and over again. “I’ve got you. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”
Shit, Trini thinks distantly. She’s actually sobbing something out, asking for Kimberly, for her to stay, begging somewhere in between heaves of her shoulders and full body shudders, her voice raw and cracking and echoing off the tiles of the bathroom.
“I’ve got you,” Kimberly says again, running slim fingers through Trini’s hair, one hand running up and down her back in slow, rhythmic circuits; her voice is still low, soothing, curling around all the bruised parts of Trini and serving as a buffer, a softness.
Trini’s throat is raw by the end of it, iron on her tongue. She lets out one shaky, shuddering breath—then another.
Then Kimberly’s drawing back an inch, maybe, just enough to shift one hand to cup Trini’s cheek. “You deserve so much better than this,” she whispers earnestly and it nearly causes another round of sobs, sits so heavily on Trini’s chest that it nearly draws out a refusal—please, god, take it back.
Kimberly must be able to tell, because then she’s drawing her back in, because then she’s saying quietly, fiercely, “You are a kind, loyal, loving person, and you shouldn’t ever be made to feel ashamed over who you love.”
Trini laughs, because her other option is to start crying again. She laughs, her lips brushing the warm skin of Kimberly’s neck, and she blushes when she realizes, burns red and hot and tries to move away as she mumbles, “Sorry I cried on you.”
She doesn’t get far, because Kimberly keeps her arms around her, her eyes on Trini. Hits her with this awful and warm and painstakingly careful look, hits her right where she’s weakest. “Trini,” Kimberly says, her name slipping off her lips so wonderfully that Trini can hardly look at her.
She looks down instead. Narrows her eyes. “Your shirt’s kind of gross now,” she observes thickly. “I got snot all over it.”
“Yeah. But it’s worth it.”
When she manages to look up again, Kimberly’s staring at her openly, her brows drawn together, worried. She wants to destroy that expression, remove it from Kimberly’s repertoire altogether. “Kimberly—,” she starts, cut off nearly immediately.
“It’s worth it,” the other girl says forcefully.
They look at each other for a minute, a long one—Trini’s this close to saying something stupid, to ruining this all, and she thinks Kimberly can tell? Can sense how her words are choking her, pricking at her eyes again. Her expression softens, gentle concern overtaking the ferociousness that was there a second ago. “This one’s going to need a stitch, I think,” she tells Trini, gentle as she brushes the pad of her thumb just under the gash on Trini’s head. “I can probably manage it back at the ship.”
It’s sweet of her to offer, even if Trini can already feel her body knitting itself back together. “At this rate, I should change your name in my phone,” she quips anyway. “From Fighter Pilot Barbie to Paramedic Barbie.”
Kimberly rolls her eyes, groans, “Jesus, why am I still Fighter Pilot Barbie?”
“Because you didn’t like my other nicknames for you,” she offers in response, smiling and preening a little when Kimberly’s face brightens.
They fall into silence again for a moment, but it’s lighter, different than the pauses that have preceded it, calm as Kimberly continues cleaning up her face, her touch light and gentle. Trini’s happy to pretend like this is the only place that exists for now, happy to exist only here, in this bathroom, pressed close to Kimberly Hart.
All wonderful moments come to a close—this one does as well, with Kimberly stepping back a beat after she’s finished, tucked Trini’s hair back behind her ears. “Well, you still look like Rocky from the final act of Rocky—.”
“I should be so lucky,” Trini says flatly, warming as Kimberly lets out a little surprised laugh.
“—but you’re as patched up as I can get you at school,” she finishes her thought, one hand drawing back to rest on Trini’s knee, palm warm, and the other reaching for Trini’s hand and folding over it. “Do you want water? I think there’s a vending machine around the corner.”
“Water’d be good.” Trini’s voice cracks, her throat dry suddenly. She feels ridiculous, wets her lips to try and bring herself back.
“I’ll be right back,” Kimberly says, starting to move back, slip her hand out of Trini’s and—in, like, forty seconds, Trini will be embarrassed about how fast she tightens her grip on Kimberly’s hand. But it’s not forty seconds from now and Trini is scared, afraid that if she’s left alone, what little peace she’s found in this stupid school bathroom will disappear, evaporate. Destroy her.
The other girl ducks her head when Trini does, slips one hand along her chin to raise her eyes. “Lock the door behind me,” she instructs. “No one uses this bathroom, but I’ll knock when I come back, okay?”
Okay. She can manage that. Forty seconds have passed and her embarrassment is heating up her face; Trini nods, drops Kimberly’s hand. Doesn’t flinch when Kimberly leans in.
For one brief, terrifying second, Trini thinks that Kimberly’s going to kiss her. Her eyes are on Trini’s lips and for an even briefer, more terrifying moment, Trini’s not scared about what that means, long term. For the record—she spends most of her time scared of what things mean, long term. Especially things that have to do with Kimberly Ann Hart. Especially things that have to do with Kimberly Ann Hart and literally anything involving hands or lips or close proximity and, uh—shit. This is ticking, like, most of those boxes.
There’s gentle pressure on Trini’s forehead and it takes her half a second to catch up, to finish the equation. When she finally breaks through the haze that is Kimberly’s perfume, wrapping around her, Kimberly’s already pulling back. She tucks some of Trini’s hair back behind her ear, let’s her hand drift down to cup Trini’s cheek. “Okay,” she breathes. “I’ll be right back.”
And then she’s gone, disappearing out the door and down the hall.
For a minute, Trini truly doesn’t know what to make of her day so far. She sits on the counter and breathes, because it’s all she can manage right now—that’s okay, right? Breathing is good. A solid plan.
Except—Trini’s face is warm, half the aftershock of Kimberly’s forehead kiss, half the embarrassment of anyone finding out about all this rising to the surface. Her instinct is to just bail, slip out of the bathroom and let Kimberly come back to an empty room, a water bottle for nobody. She could probably survive out in the woods for a while—that’s always been her backup plan, should things at home ever go too horribly sideways, should her mom ever bring up those therapists again, should she ever just need out.
She kind of feels like she needs out right now.
But— uh. There’s another part, a louder part, that knows with absolute certainty that she can’t leave them—her friends, her little family. They’d all die for each other, but Trini knows that she’ll stay for them too. She probably owes them all an explanation for her shitty avoidant tendencies.
She doesn’t really know how to do this—never bothered to learn or never had the chance to; either way, she’s bad at making friends and even worse at keeping them. And these—these four kids, so wonderful and caring and so goddamn important to her, were sort of just dropped in front of her, like the universe got sick of her lone wolf act and decided to do something about it. Like— hey dumbass, try to keep these ones around.
Trini should try, at least. Try to keep them, try to let them in. Accept the little things they offer her—Jason remembering her favorite milkshake flavor, without being reminded; Billy asking for her help when he’s tinkering, even if it’s just an extra pair of hands to hand him the right wrench; Zack teaching her a little Mandarin, a little chess, just enough to keep up with his mom; Kimberly asking to join her up on the mountain at sunrise, to see the town the way Trini likes it best.
For a second, her heart is so full that Trini thinks she’s about to cry again.
One beat passes. Another. The fear creeps back in soon enough, because that’s how this works—she’s happy for a hot second, then she remembers why that’s not good, why that can’t stick around. She’s starting to think that leaving is a good idea again, is starting to wonder what the process for resigning from being a power ranger, whether it’s a form or a debrief or something. The rapid back and forth is starting to wear on her, her shoulders sagging with exhaustion.
The worst part is that each time she comes to a decision, she’s so sure of it for half a second, so convinced that this is the best path, full stop, that she’ll fix everything that’s been wrong or gone wrong or will go wrong. Right now— right now she’s sure that vaulting out the window, sprinting for the quarry, and hiding out in the woods just beyond it until people give up on her would fix just about everything.
There’s a soft knock at the door, three in short succession— Trini’s mind jumps to late nights, a familiar silhouette at her window, that same pattern tapped out against the side of her house.
Kimberly’s slipping her phone into her back pocket when Trini opens the door, and she looks up with a small smile. “Hey,” she murmurs, slipping in when Trini steps back. She cracks the bottle, hands it over to Trini as she tells her, “Jason’s going to take you to the mine.”
Because you want to literally fight someone, Trini fills in for her. For a brief moment, she wonders what Kimberly would actually do if she knew it was Amanda, Harper, all the girls she used to run with. For an even briefer, traitorous moment, she wonders if Kimberly would have been a part of that, if things were different.
Kimberly’s saying, “I’ve got a couple things I need to handle before I can leave, but I’ll be there soon,” when Trini shakes the thought away.
She narrows her eyes, studies Kimberly and asks, “What things do you need to handle?”
It’s a testament to how well they know each other that Trini knows Kimberly’s lying when she says, “I’m supposed to meet with my history teacher after school today. I just need to check in with her and let her know I can’t make it.”
Her tell—a little quirk of her lips, a hint of a smile as if to say trust me, honest—it slips as soon as she’s finished her sentence, the truest sign that Trini’s first instinct was right. But there’s no convincing her otherwise, Trini knows that just as well, knows what Kimberly’s like when she’s worried about one of her teammates. And Trini’s done all she can to avoid a major incident, done what she could to minimize the damage and, god help her, protect Amanda because she’s got this feeling that there won’t be much left of the girl if Kimberly finds out about what she did to Trini.
But Trini’s done her part, and she’s not Kimberly’s keeper. And she’s tired, a bone deep exhaustion that leaves no room for anything else, not even that deeply rooted instinct of hers to step between Kimberly and everything that she self-sabotages with.
Trini nods, ignores Kimberly’s tell. Lets her guide her out into the hall, away from her locker, towards the elevator. They ride down in silence and Trini tries to focus on the buzz of the fluorescent lights above them, the hum of the elevator—anything but the way Kimberly’s hand feels in Trini’s, anything but the way the other girl is holding her loose enough that Trini could shake her off if she wanted to. Anything but the fact that Trini doesn’t want to.
Jason waves when he spots them; he’s idling at the curb, waiting like Kimberly had said, and he’s got this infuriating look of gentle concern when he looks at Trini. It shifts soon enough, shifts to something like suspicion when he looks at Kimberly.
“Zack’s going to meet us at the mine,” he says as he leans over to push open the passenger door. “I’m picking up Billy from the field. When do you think you’ll be done here?” he asks Kimberly, his eyebrows drawing together in that way that Trini thinks screams Team Leader.
“Before school lets out,” Kimberly says smoothly, squeezing Trini’s hand quickly as Trini gets into the truck. “Probably in twenty?”
Trini can’t look at her out here—in the bathroom it felt safer, felt easier to lean into Kimberly’s warmth and care. Out here, in the glaring light of day, Trini feels overexposed, raw. Too much like the girl that tried to run away from destiny or whatever. She trains her eyes ahead, at the pavement, until they’re moving, until suddenly Kimberly’s going to not be there with her and that distance suddenly seems too large, unconquerable.
She feels a little ridiculous when she looks up, a little needy when she looks for something in Kimberly’s eyes—comfort, maybe. Assurance. She finds both, finds more in the brief moment they lock eyes, in the split second before Kim drops her hand and steps back onto the curb and Jason pulls away. Trini doesn’t know what to make of it, so she ignores it, promises herself that she’ll riddle it out later.
/
She doesn’t. Riddle it out, that is. Doesn’t think about it, or tries really hard not to. Whatever. She doesn’t need to, not just yet, not when she’s tucked in the back of the Jason’s truck, Zack’s arm thrown around her shoulders and Billy turned back in the passenger seat, filling the silence of the cab with what he’s been looking into with Alpha-5 about ranger history.
No one’s asked about what happened; there was one moment when she thought Zack for sure was about to push her on it, about to ask for some answer that she wouldn’t be able to provide without breaking through about six emotional barriers and crying a lot, but then he’d just given her this long, steady look and—well. Then he tucked her under his arm and started talking with Billy.
Jason keeps shooting concerned looks at her in the rearview mirror, keeps catching her eyes and offering her this look that sort of says you good? and also I know you’re not. Trini’s not sure what to do with that, not sure how to respond to that sort of silent call out, so she looks away.
After they park at the quarry, Zack and Billy pile out, Trini close behind them, but then— “Hey, T, can we talk for a second?”
Jason’s got his hands in his pocket, got his Red Ranger/Team Dad look on and Trini appreciates it, she does, but she doesn’t want to talk about this. Not yet. Not today.
“Jace, I’m—I don’t—,” she starts, choking on the words and hating herself for it.
“Hey,” he raises his hands. “I know. I just wanted to make sure you know that—uh. That you’re safe with us, you know? We’ve got your back. You can tell us what happened, if you want to. Who did this.”
“Yeah,” Trini nods, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “I know.”
He looks like he’s going to say something else, something deeper, something that’ll break Trini right in half. But then he pauses, stares at her for a beat before he asks, “We good?”
Like that’s a question. Trini nods, steps closer and lets him sling his arm over her shoulders as they turn towards the cliff.
/
Billy’s the only one that doesn’t seem surprised when Trini throws herself onto the couch and mumbles, “Dogpile.”
She catches Zack’s disbelieving look, Jason’s furrowed brow—she’s never the one that calls for dogpiles, alternately known as Ranger Cuddles (Zack shouldn’t be allowed to name anything ever, by the way). But she’s tired and she wants to not feel so cold right now and Kimberly isn’t here, but Kimberly isn’t everything and Trini likes how safe it feels squished between her boys. She wants to feel that safe now.
So, she repeats, “Dogpile,” a little louder this time, a little more insistent.
Billy drops onto the other end of the couch, rests his hand on Trini’s ankle. She wiggles her foot in appreciation, pats the cushion that she’s currently resting her head on and frowns at Jason first, moving to Zack when Jason starts to move towards the couch.
Between the three of them, she’s pretty effectively cocooned. Zack manhandled her a little, picked her up off the couch so that he and Jason could grab seats and Jason wrapped his arms around her, just tight enough, just enough pressure—the way that she admitted to liking one night at the bonfire, after just enough alcohol to get her to loosen up. It’s nice, warm. Safe.
She drifts off pretty quickly, rousing a little when Kimberly joins them. She picks out the slightly higher register of her voice, catches snippets of conversation; she’s in and out of her nap, hazy enough that what little she picks up doesn’t come together to actually make any sense in her head.
And then there’s movement, her body being lifted, weight being redistributed. Someone else is holding her now, someone softer than Jason, someone that smells good and feels safe and Trini curls up tighter, curls into Kimberly’s body. It’s good. This is good.
/
Trini doesn’t mean to start crying at dinner—it’s just that, after Alpha-5 and Zordon kicked them all out to go home for the night, Trini is still riding the high that came from being around her friends. She comes crashing down from that high the second she walks in the door, because then her mother is right there, frowning and asking where she’d been, why she hadn’t called— “You can be so irresponsible sometimes,” she huffs, before storming back to the kitchen and leaving Trini reeling.
Five minutes in the door and that was what she got.
It builds from there. Her dad asking her about her day, her mom pressing her when she gave her standard answer— “Same old, same old.”
“Trini, something new has to have happened.”
Trini’s mind flashes to Amanda, shoving her into the lockers. To the look on Kimberly’s face when she saw, to the much softer look she gave Trini in the bathroom, just the two of them. To how close they were, to the pressure of the other girl’s lips on her forehead. To her boys and how careful they were with her, just the right amount of worry. To how much better they all were in the aftermath, to how she thinks it would go down if she were to tell her family it all.
“Nope,” she drawls instead, emotionless.
“Goddammit,” her mother shouts, slamming her hand down on the table, making the silverware and the twins jump. “You—you run off to god knows where at all hours, you lie about your friends and you expect us to trust you? Even when you do this?” She’s standing by now, gesturing wildly at what seemed to be all of Trini. Even Trini’s father seems a little shocked at the outburst.
“June,” he tries, sounding so tired, so half-hearted.
That’s what breaks her.
Trini drops her fork, stands. Blinks fast in the suddenly too bright lights of their dining room. Starts to leave before the tears that are burning her fall.
“Trinity,” her mother shrieks. “I am talking to you!”
That’s all that Trini hears before the rest turns into static, lessening only once she’s halfway up the stairs.
It’s not hard for her to start sobbing in earnest once her door is closed, locked. Everything hits her, all at once, all the shit from today slamming into her full force now that she’s alone, now that her boys aren’t here to be her buffer and Kimberly’s not here to care for her.
She nearly calls them, finds herself reaching for her phone. But the problem is that they would answer, that they would care and—jesus, it’s illogical, but she doesn’t want anyone to care about her right now, not when she’s like this, not when it feels like she’s used up all the gentleness that was allotted to her for today. Not when it would be so glaringly different from her family.
No calling them, then. Trini strips, throws on the first pajamas she spots and crawls into her bed, silences her phone. Her body shakes from the force of her sobs and she blindly wipes at her cheeks, tries to get her messy hat hair out of her eyes, off her face.
Her chest aches under the weight of this. But honestly? She doesn’t remember a time when it didn’t.
//
When her alarm goes off to get up for detention, Trini’s gotten a net forty-five minutes of sleep, maybe. She spends a little longer in the shower than she normally would, dozing off when she leans her forehead against the slick tile, but by the time she gets back to her room she feels moderately more human.
Which is helpful, considering about twenty seconds after she’s buttoned up her shirt, Kimberly’s pulling herself through Trini’s window.
“Hey,” she greets, the weak sunlight behind her, making the stained glass of Trini’s window a halo for her. “I have a proposition for you.”
Trini’s only a little embarrassed by the snort that escapes her, which—progress, you know? “Kimberly Hart,” she gasps, pressing a hand to her chest in faux outrage. “Are you literally propositioning me?
Kimberly rights herself, rolls her eyes and says with a little shrug of her shoulders, “I am, I guess.” She pauses, looks like she’s searching for the right words and her hesitation slays Trini, makes her reevaluate just about everything she thought she knew about the other girl. And then— “I think you should move into my locker.”
Trini freezes, stares at Kimberly, tries not to show how it feels like her brain is on fire. She manages, “Little early for that, hm?” Cringes at how her voice breaks midsentence, tries to ignore how her cheeks feel hot.
Kimberly, bless her, ignores it too. “Maybe,” she says, nodding. “But how many times have you had days like yesterday?”
And that’s—it’s like Trini’s been doused in cold water. She drops her eyes back to her bag, back to her shaking hands as she pulls together what she’ll need for detention and for training later. The dull ache at the base of her skull is back, another reminder she can’t ignore and—
“Trini,” Kimberly presses, suddenly closer.
Fuck, she’s going to cry again. She’s going to break down in front of Kimberly for the second time in as many days and all she can say is, “Doesn’t matter.” She goes to reach around Kimberly for her beanie, mumbles, “It’s not your problem.”
And then she’s face to face with Kimberly, barely a foot between them and Kimberly’s just as warm as she was yesterday, just as intoxicating to be near and Trini can’t handle it, can’t be around her like this. Not when she’s this raw, this stripped down—just them, just this awful tension.
When she looks up, Kimberly’s watching her, brows drawn together, full lips pressed together and it feels like she’s seeing straight through Trini. “Just drop it, okay?” Trini pleads, hating how small she sounds. She crosses her arms over her chest, feels overexposed, too open. She wants to go back twenty-four hours, wants to skip school and never let any of this happen.
Kimberly’s still looking at her like she’s something fragile, something precious and it’s cracking Trini right in half. She reaches back slowly, like she’s afraid she’s going to scare Trini, and she grabs her beanie, offers it like an olive branch before she sits on the corner of Trini’s bed.
“Hey,” she says softly. “I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t—I should have phrased that better.”
Trini yanks her hat on, snaps, “You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass.” Her anger isn’t at Kimberly, she knows that. But it’s so much safer than—than whatever this is between them. “I’m not going to break.”
And Kimberly’s got this look on her face, like she’s finally figured it out, like she’s got an idea of what’s happening—Trini’s seen that look at training, when the other girl finally masters a new move or cracks whatever cryptic riddle Zordon launches at them. Trini leans into her anger, lets herself hate the expression a little because if she doesn’t hate it, she—fuck. Whatever.
“I know,” Kim says before pausing. “But I also know that you shouldn’t have to deal with this at all, Trini,” she continues, Trini’s name a sigh. “And you really shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.” She sucks in a breath, cocks her head to one side. “I just want to be here for you,” she says quietly.
That knocks her a little off balance. Puts all the thoughts she’s whipped up to rest, brings everything to a screeching halt because Kimberly’s got this soft, soft look on her face and it’s directed and Trini and—god. Trini hates this, hates how soft Kimberly is with her. All it does is stoke the fire a little more, sink her a little deeper and this would have been so much easier if Kimberly was just a bitch cheerleader, if she was just as mean as Trini had assumed she was from the moment she saw her.
But she’s not and Trini’s seen the fallout of that firsthand. “You’re really willing to risk shit like this happening at your locker again?” she asks, keeping her voice flat, neutral.
Kimberly nods, her hair bouncing and catching the light. “Of course,” she hums. “I thought I made it pretty clear that you’re than worth it.”
From the way Kimberly’s eyes widen just the slightest, Trini’s willing to bet that she didn’t mean to say that and that makes it hit all the harder, makes it feel like a sucker punch of, like, emotion. Trini clenches her jaw, swallows hard, fighting tears—jesus, it’s barely eight and she’s been on the verge of tears for what feels like hours.
Something warmer takes over, though—something warmer and brighter and stronger than the ache in Trini’s chest and it has her smiling a little despite everything that’s weighing on her.
“Sap,” she accuses. “But yeah, whatever,” she concedes. “If you’re so desperate to deal with me twenty-four seven, I’ll move into your locker.”
She goes to push past Kimberly, goes for the window and for an end to what has been her most narrow miss with out and out emotion so far today, but then Kimberly’s grabbing her wrist and reeling her back, wrapping her arms around Trini.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, not sounding very sorry at all.
There’s a small part of Trini that wants to pretend like Kimberly’s hugs aren’t one of her favorite things in the world, that wants to act like she wouldn’t be happy to just stay here, in her arms, for a few years. It’s drowned out by the part of her that loves this, that feels like some errant piece of her is snapping back into place.
Trini wraps her arms around Kimberly’s waist, leans more of her weight against her. “If you ever tell anyone about this, I’m going to throw you into a wall or something,” she grumbles to cover for the way she’s melting.
“No, you won’t,” Kimberly says smugly.
“No, I won’t.” She pauses, scrambles for something else to fill the silence. “But seriously,” she says after a beat. “Zack’s gonna give me shit if he knows I went down without a fight.”
“You know he won’t,” Kimberly soothes. “Not about this anyway.”
She’s right, of course. Zack’s an asshole, but he’s an asshole who loves Trini, who always senses the line not to cross long before Trini ever has to say anything. He’ll never bring it up.
“You’re sparring with him today if he does, though,” Trini huffs, covering for the slow way she pulls back.
Kimberly’s smiling and the glint in her eyes is telling Trini run. “I thought we could spar together,” she says quietly, hopefully.
Trini flushes, goes hot all over. “You—uh,” she stammers. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to get hurt and you know you’ll pull your punches.”
“Not at all,” Kimberly grins. “I’m gonna kick your ass, like always.”
She hates that that’s kind of hot. Hates that Kimberly’s cockiness kind of does it for her. Jesus, it’s been a weird morning.
“You’re so full of shit,” she lobs back. “And we’re going to be late if you keep making me all sappy and whatever.”
“When have you ever been on time to detention?”
And here it is, the one opportunity Trini has to feel a little in control. “Well, princesa,” she says, preening at how Kimberly shivers a little at the term. “I’m there temporarily, so my tardiness doesn’t really matter, but I’m guessing you’re also here to insist on driving me?” Kimberly flushes, pouts a little at being called out. “And your tardiness does matter,” she says with a little smile. “Therefore, we’re going to be on time today.”
“You’re so bossy,” Kimberly whines, making a face. She laughs a little when Trini surges forward, pushes her towards the window.
“Ridícula,” Trini mutters, watching as Kimberly launches herself out the window.
She’s about to follow her when Kimberly’s grinning face pops back into view. “I think I like it,” she adds with a wink. She drops her hold on Trini’s windowsill and lands gracefully on the lawn, laughing when Trini’s only response is a high, inhuman noise.
Kimberly Hart is going to be the death of her, Trini thinks, covering her face. The worst part is that she honestly doesn’t mind.
#power rangers 2017#trimberly#trini#kimberly hart#pr17#bullying cw#homophobia cw#self loathing cw#blood cw#wound cw#wound care cw#internalized homophobia cw#anxiety cw#disassociation cw#emotional abuse cw
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