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softtrobed · 3 years

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hm would you write a fic about annie coming out to jeff? i love their friendship and brother/sister relationship :)

thank you so much for this request! i honestly got a bit emotional writing this. annie coming out to jeff is something that can honestly be so personal...

there's some focus on annie coming out to other members of the study group, but it does mainly focus on her and jeff. i hope that's okay :)

Annie had decided to come out to her friends in the same way she tended to do most things: efficiently and beginning by making a list.

Well, she supposed the most efficient way would be to come out to all of them at the same time, but this way would be more effective in the long run. She knew they’d all have very different reactions, different questions to ask, different levels of surprise, so if they all found out at once, most likely no one’s questions would get answered (not just the ones she would politely ignore), the group would start talking over each other, someone would yell at Pierce and it would almost be forgotten what the point of the conversation even was. This way, although it would take longer, everyone would hopefully be satisfied.

She told Troy and Abed first. That was the easiest, as because the two were a couple, she had no doubt they’d be accepting. Additionally, in the time they’d lived together, she had a feeling they’d already picked up on some of her not-so-straight behaviours: the girl-crushes she formed on the pretty women in the movies they watched together and her disinterest or non-romantic affection towards the men she knew she was ‘supposed’ to swoon over; the way she giggled and twirled her hair while on the phone with a certain girl from Greendale she’d recently reconnected with; the one time she didn’t delete her search history from the apartment computer and Abed may or may not have seen her recent searches, which included among others, ‘am I gay test,’ ‘comphet meaning’ and ‘can you be straight but think girls are really pretty and rarely have long lasting feelings for men?’

She’d come out to them over breakfast one day, and they basically had the best response she could have wished for. They were totally cool with it, but didn’t make it a big deal. They joked about how she was no longer the token straight roommate, she hugged both of them, and the day went on as normal.

Annie had crossed their names off her list with a big smile on her face.

Next had been Britta. Annie had also guessed that she’d be accepting, as what had happened with Paige last year had been a bit misguided but well-intentioned. At least Annie didn’t have to worry about Britta only wanting to be her friend because she was a lesbian, because they were already friends, and Annie suspected Britta had learned her lesson.

As expected, Britta reacted well. Perhaps too well, loudly proclaiming her supporting for the LGBTQ community before asking a string of questions about what it was like dating girls and if kissing them was different if you were sobre and/or not doing it to prove you weren’t homophobic. Annie explained she didn’t know - she actually hadn’t kissed a girl yet - but did wonder if Britta’s questions weren’t just due to her being an ally. She could be wrong, but she had read something about queer people having a way of spotting each other. Still, it wasn’t her place to assume anything, and she put the thought out of her mind as she crossed off Britta’s name.

Next was Jeff. This was a bit trickier. Once again, she didn’t think Jeff would be at all homophobic (unless he turned out to be one of those men who only viewed relationships between women as hot, but she’d cross that bridge if she came to it), but coming out to him made her nervous for another reason. Ever since they’d kissed at the Transfer Dance, his feelings for her had seemed unclear. At first, he’d seemed determined to forget it ever happened - which she’d found unfair at the time, but now appreciated - but lately, it was possible he had actually become interested in her. It felt… really weird, when she thought about it for too long. Not only was she definitely not interested in him, but, partially due to their age gap, their relationship felt too close to a father-daughter or older brother-younger sister relationship to be romantic. Sometimes she wondered why she’d ever liked him like that at all.

Although, since she’d extensively researched what comphet was and realised that was undoubtedly what she’d been experiencing, she could understand a bit better she’d never really liked him to begin with, she’d just latched onto a seemingly unattainable man to convince herself she could be attracted to guys, yet again.

As everyone packed up their stuff to leave the study room, Annie remained seated. “Um, Jeff,” she said. “We’ve both got a free period now, right?”

“Right,” Jeff replied, not looking up from his phone.

“Would you mind if I talked to you about something?”

He looked at her curiously. “Yeah, sure.”

Troy, Abed and Britta had clearly all realised what was going on. Abed gave her a small, supportive smile, Troy gave a quick thumbs up, and Britta winked in a way Annie guessed was meant to be subtle, but no doubt everyone in the room saw.

“Come on, guys,” she said, ushering the others out of the room. “This sounds important, and private, and we’ve all got classes to get to.”

Shirley stopped, muttering that she’d forgotten a textbook, but Britta practically pushed her out of the door as Abed said in a deep voice, seeming to have taken the opportunity to act like a security guard, “Keep it moving.”

Annie smiled as she watched them leave, her friends dramatics a pleasant distraction from what she was about to do. She turned back to Jeff to see he’d put his phone down. Clearly, he knew this was serious. “So,” he said. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Annie opened her mouth, let out a squeak, then closed it. This was going to be difficult. Maybe she should have just come out to everyone at the same time, the consequences be damned. That way, she would have got it all over with at once.

“Annie, is everything okay?” Jeff sounded so genuine in his concern, a relatively rare sight. “You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you?”

“No, everything’s fine,” she assured him, finding her voice, but he didn’t look convinced. She took a deep breath. “I was thinking recently about that time we kissed.” He looked confused for a second. Didn’t he remember that night? Not that she cared, of course. “You know? During the dance at the end of our first year? I had just decided not to move to Delaware with Vaughn-”

“Right, right,” he cut her off. “I remember. Sorry, go ahead.”

“Thank you,” she said curtly. “So, I’ve been thinking about our kiss, and-”

Once more, he interrupted her. This was just getting annoying. “Annie, look, I know I’ve been giving… pretty mixed signals about my feelings for you, or if I even have any, but lately I’ve taken a good look at myself, and realised that it would never really feel right to be with you. For many reasons, none of which are your fault. It’s just that you’re much younger than me, and you often feel like a little sister to me - as well as a friend, of course - so I’m sorry, but-”

“Jeff.” Her firm tone silenced him.

There, she thought. How does it feel to be interrupted?

“I don’t want to be with you either!”

“Really?” he checked. “Because it wouldn’t be your fault if you did, I’m the one who needs to keep whatever feelings I have for you in check. Plus, I mean, I wouldn’t blame you…”

She rolled her eyes, but a smile began creeping onto her face. “I swear. I was going to say that I’ve been thinking about that kiss because of how, back then, I thought I really liked you. In a romantic way, I mean. But recently, I’ve realised that I just made myself think I liked you, even loved you. I wanted to convince myself I could be attracted to men, so just like with Troy in high school, I picked an unattainable - or so I thought - man. In his case: someone cool and popular who I thought would never notice ‘little Annie Aderal.’ With you, a cool, older guy who just saw me as a child.”

“Annie.” Jeff’s tone was serious but not annoyed. “Are you saying what I think you are?”

She nodded, her lips a thin line. “I’m a lesbian, Jeff. I really hope this doesn’t change things between us, although, honestly, knowing you don’t want to be with me is a big relief, because I was worried I’d break your heart or make things weird, but…” She paused. She was getting ahead of herself. “Well, have I made things weird?”

“Of course you haven’t! Thank you for telling me, that was really brave, especially if you thought I was still interested in you.”

“Thanks,” she said. She quickly added, “It’s not that I thought you’d react really badly. I don’t see you as someone who thinks he’s somehow entitled to any women he has feelings for, but still… I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He stood up, walking around to her side of the table, presumably to remove the physical and metaphorical distance between them, and gesturing for her to stand up as well, which she did. “You haven’t hurt me at all, Annie, I promise. I care about you, so much, even - no, especially - as a friend, and I just want you to be happy. Even if I was madly in love with you - which, thankfully, I’m not - I could never be upset at you, or anyone, for this.”

Annie could feel tears forming in her eyes. “Aww, Jeff!” She practically threw herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug which he happily returned, laughing.

“Okay, we don’t have to make this all dramatic,” he said, but Annie was sure he sounded a bit choked up.

They came apart, smiling at each other for a few seconds before Jeff hesitantly reached out and gave her a pat on the head. “For old time’s sake,” he explained.

Annie had never felt happier while being given a head pat, which didn’t say much, she knew, but it was accurate, as she’d probably felt happier in general at some point in her life. Still, this was definitely in her top ten.

That night, she crossed off Jeff’s name, remembering the days she would doodle hearts as she wrote down his name, or paired her first and his last. This time, she instead drew a little smiley face. That was far more accurate, she thought. The thought of Jeff no longer made her heart flutter in her chest, but he made her smile, and she was more than happy with that.

#community #nbc community #annie edison #jeff winger #troy barnes #abed nadir #britta perry #shirley bennett #pierce hawthorne #lesbiannie #trobed #community fanfic #my writing #ask #lesbiannie-rights

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Forty One

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

October 8th, 1996

Remy dashed after the retreating figure. “George! Hey, hold up!”

George stopped and glared at Remy, and Remy felt frozen in place. “Were you ever going to tell me?” he snapped.

“Tell you what?” Remy asked.

“That you had a crush on me?!” George asked. “You’re sick in the head, Remy! Don’t you know that you can get in serious trouble for being gay?!”

“Who...who told you I had a crush on you?” Remy asked, searching George’s face, blood roaring in his ears. It couldn’t be. No...it couldn’t...please don’t let it be him.

“Jacob told Darren, who told me,” George sneered.

“I...that was last year, George! I don’t have a crush anymore!” Remy lied.

George scoffed. “Whatever! I can’t believe you thought we could be friends. I don’t associate with queers.”

Remy stayed frozen in place as George went to his next class. Remy heard snickering from behind him. Jacob and Darren were standing there, and Darren high-fived Jacob. “Nice one. Want to sit at lunch with me?” Darren asked.

“Sure thing!” Jacob exclaimed.

Jacob told the most popular kids in school. Remy couldn’t move. The whole school must know by now...

August 22nd, 2001

Remy watched Emile closely whenever he could get away with it in their small apartment. Emile had been wearing T-shirts over the summer, so Remy could watch his arms, but he couldn’t see any other exposed skin below Emile’s neck, and Remy was worried that Emile might be hiding fresh injuries. After seeing Emile bang his fists against his head repeatedly in frustration and then hide in his room for the rest of the day and not acknowledge Remy the next morning, well, Remy was worried.

In all honesty, he wasn’t sure he still had the right to worry over Emile, but it didn’t mean he just stopped caring. He kept to himself, too afraid to openly check on Emile, but when he was alone in his room, his head would drop, his tears would fall, and choked sobs would escape their prison. He had screwed up, probably irreparably damaged not only his relationship, but his friendship with Emile. His one friend in life who he could always count on. Who helped him find Kim. Who encouraged him to make more friends. And he had gone and tossed away that bond.

It was one morning when Remy was making breakfast that Emile walked into the kitchen, wincing as he placed a hand on his abdomen. Remy tried not to freak out as he did a mental tally of all the sharp tools in their apartment and their locations. Nothing seemed out of place or bloody this morning, but that only soothed Remy’s nerves so much.

Emile glanced over and caught Remy staring, and Remy turned back to his toast. “What?” Emile snapped.

Remy flinched minutely. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled.

“No, I didn’t cut myself, since I know you’re wondering. My stomach happens to be upset,” Emile growled. “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of hurting myself over your words.”

“Do you honestly think I want that, Emile?” Remy asked. “Because I don’t.”

Emile didn’t even glance in Remy’s direction at that, and Remy felt his stomach sink. “What can I say, Emile? I’m sorry! I crossed a line I didn’t know was there, and I won’t cross it again!” His eyes pricked with tears. “I want to be your friend. I don’t even care if we don’t date anymore, I just want to be your friend again.”

“Well, I don’t,” Emile said, gripping the counter with white knuckles. “Because we’re always doing this. We cycle through good times, and then one bad thing happens and we’re back where we started, at each others’ throats, only this time we know where to find the jugular. I don’t want to keep going through that cycle the rest of my life.”

“But we can get better at that, can’t we? I’ve gotten more stable! I just didn’t realize that we both had strong opinions on this! Can’t we...can’t we at least be friends? Can’t we at least try?” Remy begged. “Please, Emile. I don’t want to lose you.”

Emile’s eyes were hard as he finally looked over, and Remy knew he looked pathetic. Eyes red and puffy, tear tracks on his cheeks because he was always such a crybaby. He would never outgrow that. “It’s a bit late for that,” Emile said simply, pushing himself off the counter.

Remy wilted. “Oh,” he said softly. Then, “Will you take me to therapy still, or should I walk?”

“How did you get there last week?” Emile asked.

“I didn’t. Kim’s getting ready to move practices, and states. We’ve been moving from every week to every other week, in an attempt to get me used to not going to a therapist as often, because if I choose another one, then I might have to be put on a waiting list for a while,” Remy said.

“If?” Emile asked. “Not when?”

“Well, considering this whole situation, I’m pretty sure that I can’t get any better than this,” Remy said, letting his arms spread before falling to his sides. “I didn’t think I needed any more help, two weeks ago. I thought I’d be fine. But clearly, all the change has just been superficial, if I’m still hurting you.” He shook his head. “Why am I even telling you this? You don’t want to be my friend, you don’t want to hear about this.”

Emile looked conflicted for a brief second, before his face returned to its stony, neutral state. “I have to get to work,” he said by way of reply, grabbing some granola and leaving the kitchen. “If you need a ride to therapy, call me. But I’m sure you can walk there just fine in about an hour.”

Remy nodded silently, turning back to his toast. He listened to Emile get dressed in a hurry, and head out the door, slamming it possibly a little harder than necessary. Flinching minutely, Remy went back to eating his toast. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to eat, but he needed it if he was going to be working today. He tried to avoid the thought that Emile would be upset if he didn’t eat. Emile didn’t want to be friends, he had made that very clear. And people who weren’t your friends didn’t actively want you to care for yourself, not in the sense that friends did.

He was alone. He felt so alone, and it wasn’t fair, except it was. He had brought this punishment on himself, and now he had to face the consequences. Remy took a deep breath, forcing the bile crawling up his throat back down. Now was not the time to cry himself sick. He had work to get to, and therapy later tonight.

Remy walked his way to the local coffee shop, wishing not for the first time that he could have gotten that promotion to manager. Instead of him, Steven had been promoted. Which, that wasn’t the worst choice they could have gone with, but Steven didn’t exactly go the extra mile, either. He would look out for himself, and only himself.

As Remy came in the doorway, a couple people nodded at him, and he offered them weak smiles back. He hadn’t been able to tell anyone here about his issues with Emile, just implying that he had a bad couple weeks over a break up, without being able to use Emile’s name, because Steven was always around. It frustrated him to no end that he was constantly forced to hide this part of himself. He wanted to jump on the counters and scream, “I’m here, I’m queer, and if you have a problem with that, then say it to my face!”

But that would be suicide when it came to his job, so he forced himself to keep his mouth shut just a while longer. He didn’t know how much longer he’d have to do it, considering that yeah, Fairview was liberal enough, but not the people inside it who he ran into on a daily basis. He wondered how any of the blue politicians actually got into office around here, if there were so many homophobes, but, he reasoned, if the politicians didn’t reveal their stance on the LGBT community, and focused more on schools or taxes or whatever, then they could slip under the radar and help people like Remy, which he appreciated.

Even if he no longer had any plans to date, or get married. He saw Emile as really the only one he’d be willing to risk hate crimes for. Who he’d find a way in the legislature to marry. And now Emile was gone. Probably never coming back. And that sucked.

One of his coworkers cornered him in the back room as he was tying his apron on. “Boyfriend troubles?” he asked in a low voice. Steven was one of the few people still in the dark about Remy’s identity, because Steven was very vocal about political views, and he was very, very conservative. He also happened to be using the office one room over.

“We broke up. Really messily. Two weeks ago. And he’s still snarling at me, and I feel awful.” Remy shook his head. “I mean, he has the right to, I was the one who provoked him, but I really wish I hadn’t.”

“And he won’t listen to you?”

Remy laughed. “Would you, if I were a complete and utter asshole to you all because I didn’t think you could get hurt?”

“Not at first. But two weeks is a long time, man. He’s not still licking his wounds, he’s holding a grudge.”

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine,” Remy insisted. “It’ll be okay, I’ll be okay. I just need a little more time, and maybe a new roommate. I know it would make him feel better, at the very least.”

“Picani! Where are you?!” Steven asked, walking in.

“Right here,” Remy said. “Just struggling a little with the straps on my apron. Bradley was helping me.”

“Well, fix it fast, because I need both of you out here for the morning rush,” Steven snapped.

The second he left Remy breathed a sigh and Bradley grimaced. “Is it just me, or did Steven get worse when he was promoted?”

“Not just you,” Remy said. “Although I always thought he was fishy, so this is less of a surprise to me personally.”

Bradley grimaced again and both of them left the back room to deal with the morning rush. Remy appreciated the distraction so long as he didn’t think about it as a distraction. Because if he did that, he would get memories of the shelter, and hanging out being happy with Emile...and he would get upset and possibly teary-eyed that he couldn’t have that anymore. And no one wants their barista sobbing into their coffee, Remy, so you have to pull it together, man, Remy reminded himself.

A pang in his chest resonated when he remembered Emile calling him “girl” on those days where he was super confused about his gender, and he bit his lip to keep back the tears. He kept biting at every little thing that came into his head that reminded him of Emile, which had to be about half of the world, until he tasted copper. He put a hand to his mouth, pulling it back to see blood. He winced. He hadn’t realized he was biting that hard.

Retreating to the bathroom to wash his hands free of blood, he tried to force all thoughts of Emile out of his mind. It wasn’t working very well, in all honesty, but he had to try. He couldn’t end up sobbing into someone’s coffee. Steven would get mad and all his other coworkers would know something was up and those who had initiative when it came to friends might kill Emile. He didn’t want Emile dead, he just wanted to be friends. But he had squandered that opportunity, unaware of how much he needed Emile’s support until it was gone.

The rest of his shift, Remy was on the edge of crying, but never actually broke down. He got a few concerned looks, and a massive headache from holding the tears back, but he managed to do it in the end. And the second his shift ended, he was out of there. He walked back home, only to realize that Emile would be back at this point too. He turned away from the door and walked back outside the complex, resolving to go to therapy. After all, he didn’t have a lot of time before his next appointment anyway. Not if he had to walk there.

He trudged along the sidewalk, letting himself cry just a little, trying to ease the headache that was killing him. He was tired, and miserable, and he could feel a tickle in the back of his throat. He sincerely hoped he wasn’t getting sick. The last thing he needed was to be stuck at home with Emile before Emile’s classes started up. But knowing his luck, he would end up with the flu and be bedridden for a solid week.

When Kim opened the door to her office and let Remy in, Remy sighed. “I screwed up, Kim. Like, really badly.”

“Let’s talk about it,” Kim said. “I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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