#[ sorry im not creative enough to come up with anything else... this might.. be rough to respond to omg. ] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dionnaea · 4 years ago

Text

Promises

pairing: kenny ackerman x reader (platonic), slight levi x reader

warnings: angst, character death, mild swearing

wc: 4.4k

a/n: so, so sorry this took so long!! i decided to combine these two requests and change them up a little, so i hope that’s okay! i’m really proud of this piece, so i hope you all enjoy it, too. xx

side note: technically this is a sequel to my other fic Pot Meet Kettle but it’s not entirely necessary to read that first.

requests:

Your writing’s so good I’m cryin’... Also, I’d LOVE to see what you have in mind for Kenny and Reader’s background! 👀 Were they both underground? was Reader already in the Corps when they met?? did she learn how to punch creeps from Kenny?? Plus I’m very curious about what he meant by her fixing broken hearts!

could you do a part 2 to the pot meet kettle levi fic? i really loved it and i think it would be cool if you could write a part 2 based off the kenny vs levi scene in season 3? like maybe kenny sees the reader and he's like good to see you again and levi is like mf what idk im not creative :(( sorry if this isn't enough

attack on titan masterlist | general masterlist

After Rod Reiss had been taken down, the scouts were sent to search the ruined fields for survivors. It was unlikely that any were left, but Erwin was adamant that no soldier would be left behind. You respected him for that, and went on your way to do your job.

As you wandered, you ran into a returning scout, someone you didn’t know the name of but were sure had been paired with the Captain for this mission. His head was down as he walked, like there was something he had seen that he shouldn’t have, and your mind began to fill with worries for Levi. Had something happened?

Making your steps slightly heavier in the grass so that he would notice you, the man finally looked up, quickly saluting to his superior. You brushed him off, instead getting down to business.

“Where’s Captain Levi, cadet?”

The man’s eyes darted away from your own before he answered. “Taking care of something, I think.”

You raised an eyebrow in suspicion at the soldier’s weary tone. “Oh? And what is he taking care of, might I ask?” Everything about this seemed peculiar, and you weren’t having it.

“I don’t know. Something… personal.” When he finally met your gaze, he relented, sacrificing the Captain’s privacy for his own sake, too scared to see what your reaction would be if he kept playing coy. “He’s that way, by the big oak tree,” he stated, pointing in the direction he came.

You squinted, making out the shadow of the tree in the setting sun. You dismissed the cadet, and quickly made your way towards Levi, his body becoming clearer as you approached. Once you were a reasonable distance away, you called out, but were met with silence. As your worry grew, you moved faster, only stopping when you realized what was going on.

Levi was kneeling, his body covering the person in front of him. It didn’t matter, you’d recognize those spurs anywhere.

“Kenny?” The name was uttered in disbelief, and as you stepped around Levi, your eyes grew wide with fear. “Kenny!”

Immediately, you jumped into action, your scout training taking hold of your body as you knelt by your friend. Your hands hovered over his burnt and bloodied body, not knowing where to start but ignoring the possibility that it was too late. “How… How do I help you? I-I don’t know what to do.” Your eyes were tearing up, and your breathing was getting ragged as you struggled to find some solution. “Please, Kenny, tell me how to help!”

“Kitten…” His voice was rough as he spoke, his usual tones of confidence and charisma gone. You met his half-closed eyes with your wet ones, begging for him to give you some answer, some, any sort of reassurance that things would be alright.

“Please,” you pleaded. You had never sounded this pitiful in your life, but you didn’t care, and as his shaking hand grabbed your own, a sob wracked your body. “Kenny, please. Please stay.” You couldn’t help, you knew that, but you hoped for once in his life he would listen to you.

His eyes began to shut, and his voice fell to a whisper as he said, “Stay safe, kitten.” With a barely there squeeze of your hand, his body went limp, his hand dropping from your grasp.

You stared in silence, shock overtaking you for a moment. But then, all you felt was anger. “No. No! You promised!” You were yelling at this point, fist reaching out to bang on Kenny’s chest in retaliation. A strong grip on your wrist stopped you, but you weren’t done. As if he could read your mind, Levi wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you back from the now dead man. You were screeching obscenities at both Kenny and Levi as you struggled to break free. Soon, your screams turned into sobs, and as you fell limp into Levi’s arms, you let out one last whimper, a last cry for help. “You promised.”

Later that night, as you pulled a camisole over your head, a knock sounded on your quarters’ door. Truthfully, you had absolutely no desire to talk to anyone. You had had a long day, you had just changed into your pajamas, and you weren’t in the mood to join your fellow soldiers in celebration. Still, you pulled the door open a few inches, hoping it would be someone you could easily send away. To your surprise, Levi stood outside dressed in plain clothes and hair wet from what you presumed was a shower. Even more surprising was the newly formed bruise on his cheekbone. The reddish-purple mark stood out against his normally flawless skin, and you found yourself staring, only Levi’s sharp voice bringing you back to reality.

“You did that, you know,” he commented with a blank face.

“What?” You opened the door a bit more, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

His left eyebrow cocked up just barely. “When you went berserk earlier. Before I managed to snag both of your wrists,” he explained. He reached up a hand to brush against his cheek. “Damn, you hit hard.”

You weren’t sure, but the tone in the man’s voice made you think that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to cheer you up. Against your will, the corners of your mouth turned up the slightest bit. “Did you expect anything less?” You quipped, wondering what his answer might be.

“No.” He shrugged. “Just surprised it took you this long to punch me in the face.”

At that, you let out a laugh. It was true, the man had managed to push every single one of your buttons during his time with the Scouting Regiment. The two of you were in constant conflict, arguments over the smallest things popping up out of nowhere. At some point, Erwin had decided that Mike would be the babysitter of you two, keeping you both in line during training and even more so during squad leader meetings. You started to smile at the memory, but when you remembered that Mike, like so many of the others you loved, was dead, your expression fell.

Moving your eyes to stare down at the uneven floorboards, you spoke quietly, but sincerely, “I’m sorry.”

Levi knew you weren’t just apologizing for hitting him but for everything, and as he studied your face, he made a decision. “Do you want some tea? I keep a special brand in my room.” It was the only thing he had to offer, and both you and him knew it.

You froze as you tried to figure out the best course of action. Follow the Captain to his room or mope around alone until you cry yourself to sleep? In the end, it was an easy choice. Still, your heart stuttered in your chest while you gained your composure. You took a breath before responding, “Um, sure.”

There was a beat of silence, as if the two of you were readying yourself to take on some new, mysterious foe. And in a way, you supposed, you were. About a month after Levi had joined the scouts, there had been an… incident of sorts. It wasn’t disastrous or anything like that, but Erwin had quickly ruled that the two of you weren’t allowed to be in the same room together without someone else present. A wise decision on his part, if you were being completely honest, and something that Levi nor you argued with in the slightest. But now, years later, it seemed both of you were ready to break that rule, Levi making the first move as he turned on his heel and waited to see if you would follow.

Out of all of the scouts, you were known to be the most stealthy. Mike was usually the only one who could sense you were coming, claiming you had a distinctly pleasant smell that his nose had no problem picking up on. One time, he had even claimed that you were the best smelling person in the Survey Corps, and you couldn’t help but swell with pride. Hange had whispered to you later that evening that that was his way of flirting, but you never took her seriously. You weren’t interested in dating anyways. No one had ever really caught your eye minus one man, but you always said it was more of a fascination than a crush.

Even your ODM gear seemed to be quieter than the rest, and you once managed to spook even the Commander when you landed on the same tree branch as him without him knowing. You naturally existed silently and sneakily so when Levi picked up on the sound of your sock-clad feet shuffling behind him, the pit of concern in his stomach grew.

Reaching his quarters, he unlocked the door wordlessly, holding it open so that you could enter first. Your eyes widened as you took in the space. First of all, it was much bigger than your room. While you only had a bedroom and bathroom to yourself like the other squad leaders, Levi had a small living area with a couch, small coffee table, and even a desk. There were papers neatly stacked on top of it, and the rest of the area was just as orderly, his tea kettle sitting in the exact center of the coffee table. Only when you sat down on the couch did you see the small fireplace he had. It was just big enough to fit a tea kettle over it, and that’s what Levi proceeded to do.

You let out a low whistle, capturing the man’s attention. “Wow. When did you get so important?” You asked, motioning lazily about the room with your hand.

Levi scoffed and placed a hand casually on his hip. “Erwin gave it to me when he moved into the Commander’s quarters. Reward for the highest kill count or something like that.” His voice was so nonchalant that for a moment, you didn’t realize that he was insulting you. No, you thought, it was more of a tease than an insult.

Now it was your turn to scoff, well aware that your fellow Captain was just trying to get a reaction out of you. Levi watched as you rolled your eyes playfully, firelight glinting off of your irises. Had they always been such a pretty color?

The whistle of the kettle broke him out of his reverie, and he swiftly turned back to take it off of the heat. When he brought it back to the table, he was pleasantly surprised that you had already prepared the teacups, him only having to pour the water in and wait for it to steep. Hesitantly, he moved around the table to take a seat next to you, wondering when the two of you were ever this close. The events of the day popped into his head, and he did his best to ignore the fact that the thing he remembered the most about it was you being in his arms. Still, a question had been lingering in his mind, and he figured now was the best time to ask it.

“Y/N,” he started, and you looked over with wide eyes at the use of your first name. You honestly weren’t aware that he even knew you had a first name. “Can I ask you a question?” You knew what was coming, but you forced yourself to nod anyways, giving him silent permission to know your secrets. “How do you know Kenny Ackerman?”

It was a loaded question, and you let out a breath as you tried to figure out the best way to tell the story without getting either you or Kenny into trouble. Even the secrets of a dead man needed to be protected sometimes. Despite it all occurring years ago, the government’s threat towards you regarding the release of information hung heavily in your mind. Both you and Levi would be in danger if you revealed too much. He could swear himself to secrecy, and you would trust him, but the risk would never be worth the reward. You fiddled with your fingers in your lap, worrying your lip as you thought of how to start to explain.

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, gathering your nerves before continuing, “About a year and a half before you joined the scouts, I got myself into a bit of trouble.” He raised an eyebrow in surprise as you were widely thought to be the most well behaved and well intentioned scout there was. He thought he was the only person who could get you riled up, your scoldings from the other squad leaders and the Commander always leading back to him. You sent him a small grin. “I wasn’t always the goody two shoes I am now, Levi.”

“Anyways, it became kind of a big deal in the Capital, and a lot of higher-ups were calling for my head.” You let out a light chuckle. “Imagine just turning 19 and having almost every MP looking for you. Scary stuff.”

“Wait.” Levi held up a hand to stop you before you could continue. The story had just started, but he was already having trouble believing that this was the truth. If not for the darkness that rested just behind your eyes, he would’ve called bullshit as soon as you said your first sentence. “What exactly did you do?”

You looked away from the intensity of his gaze for a moment, an internal debate raging on inside your head. With a sigh, you relented. “I… I can’t tell you everything, but let’s just say it had to do with a certain Premier and confidential papers being stolen from his office.” Levi’s eyes grew wide, and you took that as a sign to continue. “No one knows except Commander Erwin, but I spent most of my teenage years in the Underground. I was born within Wall Sina, so I had papers to be up top, but I much preferred being below gro—”

“Why?” Levi was quick to cut you off, his expression hard and tone almost offended.

“My parents owned land in Wall Sina, and when they died, they left none of it to me, so folk got the idea in their head that I was a problem child. I wasn’t wanted there, so I left.” You shrugged, and Levi’s face softened. “I admit, the Underground wasn’t easy, but I was quick on my feet and smart for my age. I survived and I survived by myself. Help wasn’t something I wanted, but when you’re suddenly being chased by the royal government, it becomes something you need. That’s how I found Kenny, and it’s why I owe him my life.”

It had been a week since you had completed your assignment, already turning in the materials to the man who had hired you and returning back to your comfortable life underground. All had seemed to go swimmingly, and your confidence had grown tenfold. The feeling of being unstoppable was addictive, and you craved the sensation of that feeling again. You let your thoughts drift to what you could accomplish next, but sudden screams quickly snapped you out of your daydream. Straightening in your chair, you peeked out of the window of the tavern you currently resided in. Fear grew in your chest at what you saw.

Standing right outside were five MP’s, fully equipped with ODM gear and holding up a wanted poster with a poorly drawn sketch of your face on it. It was clear that they were asking for your whereabouts, and you were thankful to see that every person was shaking their heads to say no, they had no idea. Even with the solidarity of your fellow Underground citizens, you knew you had to get out of there and away from the sharp swords that hung off of the men’s waists. Before you could move, though, two of the men entered the bar, their eyes sweeping over the patrons.

Right before their eyes could meet your frightened ones, your world was encased in darkness, the only light you could see coming from below you. You blinked, trying to understand what exactly just happened, but soon realized that a large hat had been placed over your head. Carefully, you lifted the brim so that you could see, and were met with the piercing silver stare of a man a good amount of years older than you. Apparently your confusion showed on your face because he quickly pushed the hat back down so that it shaded your features.

He spoke in a quiet voice, only letting you be privy to whatever information he was about to share. “I’d keep that on if I were you, kitten. Don’t want the MP’s seeing your face, now do we?” You didn’t dare speak, but quickly shook your head, showing him you were listening and following instructions. “Good,” he dragged out the vowel, and the table shook as he placed his leg onto the table. Were those cowboy boots and spurs? You were pretty sure people only wore those in stories. “Now,” he stated, “We’re just gonna have a nice, pleasant conversation. Lots of giggles, ya hear me?” You nodded, the hat moving up and down your forehead.

As the man started spewing nonsense, you did your best to play along, laughing like he said to and keeping your face covered as best you could. You could hear the MP’s getting closer to your table over the man’s rowdy voice, and the hand gripping your drink began to shake in fear. Smoothly, the man took your hand in his, making some weird comment about how soft it was. You frowned. Your hands weren’t soft at all. What was with this guy?

The realization of what his plan was smacked you in the face, and you let out light giggles in response, putting on your most fake voice as you thanked him for the compliment. The things you were saying to each other became sickly sweet, so much so that you almost laughed at one point. As the soldiers approached your table, the mysterious man leaned in close, his alcoholic breath fanning over your face. Calmly, he swept the hat off of your head and placed it so that it covered both of your faces from the men who were now only a couple of feet away.

A swift kick from under the table spurred you into action, and you let out a girlish moan followed by an exaggerated giggle. He followed suit, making a comment about how nice your lips were. If it were any other situation, you would punch this man in the face, but for right now, you’d listen to every command he gave you. From behind the hat you heard one of the MP’s mumble about ‘couples these days’ with a gagging noise coming from the other. With one last lovesick comment from the man in front of you, the MP’s retreated, leaving the tavern with muttered curses leaving their lips.

Your savior leaned back into his chair, a smirk adoring his features as he placed his hat back on his head. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, you in shock and him in some state of glee. You decided to speak first.

“Who are you?”

“The name’s Kenny.” He kicked his other leg up on the table with a thwack! as the spur hit the cracked wood. The silence grew again, but this time you were at a loss for words. Sure, his name was Kenny, but was that all he was going to say? Apparently not, but when he spoke up again, it was entirely unhelpful. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

You frowned, unamused. “Maybe for you. I should punch you for some of the things you said. Strange men shouldn’t talk to unassuming ladies like that.” Your tone was laced with a bit of sarcasm, and he guffawed.

“I don’t think fugitives from the crown can be considered ladies,” he shot back, and you huffed. His face grew serious. “I’ve been watching you for a while, kitten.”

You raised your eyebrows at the nickname. “It’s Y/N, and, uh, what?” Once again, this man completely took you by surprise.

He shrugged. “You may not know it yourself, kitten, but you’re well known down here in the Underground. A mysterious girl who arrives without a sound, stealing from the above-grounders and sharing the wealth with the rest of us? You’re practically a legend; some people don’t even believe you’re real, but those that do would protect you with their life.”

This was all news to you. Yes, those were things that you did, but people recognized you for it? You furrowed your eyebrows and blinked quickly as you tried to puzzle the situation out. “I…” You struggled for words.

Kenny held up a hand. “It’s true whether you believe it or not… But, it seems that you’ve bitten off a little more than you can chew this time, my friend. Stealing from the Premier? Tsk, tsk.” His tone was more playful than condescending, and you gave him a weary grin.

You sighed and finally relaxed back into your own chair, studying the man’s face. It showed his experience rather than his age, and you wondered just exactly who he was. Taking a chance, you pried for more information. You hated being in the dark. “So, you didn’t answer my question. Who are you?”

His smile grew at your curiosity, crooked teeth appearing under chapped lips. “Someone who can help you. If you want it, that is. It seems clear you like to work on your own.” There was a challenge laced into his words, and you wondered what the right decision was. On one hand, getting involved with someone else, someone else you knew nothing about at that, was a dangerous game. On the other, you were in trouble and you needed all the help you could get.

Taking a chance, you slowly nodded. “Okay. What do you have in mind?”

He explained his plan. The MP’s didn’t know your name, so it would be easy to get above ground using your old Wall Sina papers. After you expressed your concern and with a chuckle, he dismissed their drawing of you, stating that once you got above ground and cleaned up, you would be unrecognizable from your old self. Then, with his next words, you lost your confidence in his plan.

“You want me… to join the Survey Corps?” You shook your head in disbelief. “Uh, no way. That’s right under the government’s noses!”

He brushed you off. “Eh, not really. The government already dislikes the Corps. They’re not gonna care who’s in it; they figure you’ll all die soon enough.” At that, you gave him a very blank stare, and he just laughed, stealing a swig from your mug. “You’ll be fine. You don’t seem like the dying type.”

It was true, you had escaped the jaws of death on multiple occasions, but you weren’t in the business of actively riding towards your demise. That seemed plain idiotic to you, and you made that known. “This isn’t a joke. It’s my life on the line,” you countered.

With a swift movement, his legs were off of the table and his body was leaning in towards yours, the weight on his elbows making the table creak. His eyes turned dark, levelling your gaze. “It’s your life either way. Would you rather die by the hands of the Military Police after they’ve done God-knows-what to you? Or would you rather die on your own terms, possibly fighting for Humanity’s freedom?”

It was a good question, a fair question, and one you immediately knew the answer to. You sucked in a breath as you resigned yourself to your new fate. “So, how do we do this?”

With another grin, Kenny explained the rest of his plan. It really wasn’t a bad idea, and you were grateful for the help. But still uncertainty settled in your stomach.

The day you were to join the Corps, Kenny had told you he would meet you before you left. You hadn’t seen him in about a week, and in that time, you had completely changed yourself, moving up top, getting a haircut, and finally wearing clean, untorn clothes. It was weird and different, but a part of you enjoyed it. This was a new start, you had chosen to believe.

“Kitten!” You turned towards the easily recognizable voice with a roll of your eyes, but the playful smile that toyed with your lips gave away your true feelings. “Give me a spin!” He requested, and when you did, he let out a loud whistle. “Damn, you really look like you belong up here.”

You raised your eyebrows with a grin. “That’s the point, right?”

“Precisely, my friend, precisely.” Slinging an arm over your shoulders, he began to walk with you towards where the ferry would pick you up. His pace was slow, obviously not in a rush to say goodbye, and you felt the same. Somehow, the two of you had grown close over the past month. Even with all of the secrets you both kept from each other, there was an air of freedom when you were in the other’s presence. No lies, no false personalities, just friendship.

It was refreshing, to say the least.

For once, you both were quiet as you walked. The weight of the future hung over both of you, pressing your mouths shut. He managed to speak first, his voice cracking for the first time since you met him and giving away his true emotions.

“Stay safe, kitten.” The words were serious, and something in him couldn’t stand to let that be the last thing he said. “You’ll kick those Titans’ asses.”

Normally, you’d laugh, or at least smile, at his cheesy jokes. Instead, you stopped walking and turned until you both faced each other, looking up to meet his eyes. With a swallow, you asked something of him that you knew was unfair, was selfish, was wrong. Yet, you still asked, knowing Kenny wouldn’t hold it against you.

“Promise me you won’t die before me.”

His eyes softened in understanding, crinkles forming around their edges as he gave you the most gentle of smiles. He knew what you needed to hear, knew it would be a lie, knew you’d hate him for it. But, he said it anyway.

“I promise.”

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #kenny ackerman #kenny ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #mere writes

235 notes · View notes

plantcore-posterboy · 6 years ago

Text

75 reasons we love you

Here ya go, baby. @your-friendly-neighborhood-enby

(Credits to Me for these)

1. You're kind, its something I love about you, even on your darkest days, you can make someone else happy.

2. Your interests. You can go on rants about things, and honestly, it's amazing, because once you're interested in something, you're interested in it.

3. You let me rant to you. You can be having a really bad day, but you'll always listen to me.

4. You're an amazing writer. I've read your work for a long time, and you never cease to amaze me.

5. You're adorable. I love your smile, and no matter how much you disagree, you really are adorable.

6. You may not always know how to respond to something, but you always respond, so I know that you're still there.

7. You are a good singer. Your voice is calming and easy to listen too.

8. No matter what you see about yourself as a flaw, you can always see the good things about people.

9. You put others before yourself no matter what it does to you, you just genuinely care about other people.

10. You've managed to survive, yeah it gets rough sometimes. But guess what? You've made it.

11. Nicknames. You're just really good at using nicknames, which is honestly a skill.

12. Common interests! We have quite a few, which honestly I find amazing.

13. You deal with me no matter what stupid crap I do, and I admire you for that.

14. You're accepting, you've never judged me, and I appreciate that.

15. You always know how to calm me down. A skill I both admire and adore about you.

16. You put effort into everything you do.

17. You are always willing to fight people with love.

18. You mean what you say, as far as I can tell. Honesty is good.

19. You've always been nice, which is why I got along with you so easily in the beginning, there's so much more now.

20. You have the ability to easily make friends. I mean, so many people on here love and adore you, including me.

21. You've always been there for me when I've needed it.

22. Your personality is amazing, you're sweet and loyal and I love it.

23. Your smile. Its adorable and I wish I could see it more.

(Credit to @thelonelycreature for the next ones)

24. SMOL SOFT CHILD!

25. SUPPORTIVE!

(Credits to @ihavenoclueanymore for these ones)

26. They are smart

27. They are themselves and unique (which is a good thing because they aren't fake! Which happens a lot)

28. They are very into musicals

29. They are are very easy to fluster and make blush

30. They have great writing

31. They are super adorable no matter how much they think they aren't

32. They have a very great dream and is good at musicals (and singing)

33. We have a bunch of stuff in common (we will probably find more as we get to know each other better!)

34. They have a cute smile

35. They are very cool person who deserves lots of love

36. They are an amazing arospec and enby who cares for others and isn't mean.

TOP 10 REASONS @nonbinaryroyaltylove LOVES LO!!!

(37) Reason #1: Lo is the most caring person on this planet and will listen to me rant my little heart out about something that they don’t even know about but they will make an effort to understand it anyway.

(38) Reason#2: Lo makes me smile whenever im down and they always know the right thing to say when im angry or sad.

(39) Reason #3: Lo is so so so so so so so so smart, they always come up with little jokes on the spot or things in their stories that i love.

Reason#4: speaking of Lo’s stories, don’t even get me started!!! Weather it’s late at night or early morning or anytime, I love reading their one shots and all their stories. They are so creative with their content and they are so friendly to their followers. (No wonder everyone wants to be their friend)

(40) Reason #5 Lo is really good at listening and when i say really good i mean REALLY GOOD. When I feel really down i know that they will always be there with a virtual hug and some yeeted love in my direction. The best part is, even if your an anon and they don’t know you they will still give you all the love in the world.

(41) Reason #6: you can count on Lo to never tell anyone your secrets and insecurities. Lo knows a lot of things in my life and only one other person i know knows as much about me as they do. If you tell Lo something they will take it to their grave.

(42) Reason #7: they deal with all the sap juice that we all give each other everyday and even through the shitty times they help others and honestly they handle the sap so well and its great.

(43) Reason #8 Lo is really good at just being a friend no matter what you need they will provide it. If you need love they will yeet it at your face and if you ask for space they will respect it, they are very patient always.

(44) Reason #10: lastly is that Lo will make sure you are ok. I was recently in a very dark place and Lo helped take me off the edge I was standing on. Lo will rant to you and make sure you eat and sleep even if it means sacrificing their own. (Which we will all rant back to them that they need)

(45) Reason #11 Lo is the actual fucking imbodyment of a hufflepuff!!!!!!!!! That in its self should be reason enough to love them

(Credits to @lovelylogicality for these)

(46) 1. They inspire me to write, and actually help me feel proud of my work

(47) 2. They make me feel important, like something really special instead of just boring.

(48) 3. Lo makes me feel better about myself (especially my weird eyes)

(49) 4. They’re kind and sweet and always try to make me feel better.

(50) 5. Always there with encouragement

(51) 6. Lo writes amazing little fics and I always love seeing their stunning work on my dashboard

(52) 7. THEYRE JUST AS SAPPY AS US

(Credits to me, again, for these)

53. You always know how to make me smile, whether its intentional or not.

54. Honestly, I smile anytime I see something that reminds me of you.

(Credits to @ihavenoclueanymore , again)

(55) 1. calls everyone a sap even tho we are all just telling truths

(56) 2. knows (with me telling) just what pet names to use to make me heart completely melt and my brain short circuit

(57) 3. very loveable human!

(58) 4. prefers to read the book (best type of human)

(59) 5. is poly! (Us polys need to stand together!)

(60) 6. makes nonhuman noises when flustered (need to hear these)

(61) 7. is very precious baby (in a non weird way)

(62) 8. very kind to everyone!

(63) 9. introvert (we also have this in common and need to stan together!)

(64) 10. favorite side is virgil (best side besides patton)

(65) 11. is legit the only human I've seen use greetings and salutations and it's awesome

(Credits to @lovesupportandcookies for these)

(66) 1. Heccin adorable

(67) 2. Does their best to be nice even in hardship

(68) 3. Incredibly sweet in general (all the sap)

(69) 4. Oh! And very trustworthy!

(Credits, again, to @nonbinaryroyaltylove )

(70) Reason #12: when Lo send out ask requests on their blog they actually do them and answer everything with the upmost importance. Lo puts their people before everything and will take time out of their precious day to care for them. Weather it be answering a simple and silly ask or responding to a more personal problem and he treats them all with importance.

(71) Reason #13: Lo is so accepting, you could tell them anything and no matter how messed up or strange you might think it is, they will embrace it and love you for you, which in my book makes them of the best people I have met.

(72) Reason #14: They know musical theater just like any lord should, you can talk to them about any and all musical theater and on the rare occasion that they dont know what it is they will make an effort to listen to and/or watch it so they talk about it with you.

(73) Reason #15 Lo is the most adorable lord you will ever see on earth, their smile is infectious and whenever they look at you, or if they are online, text they have the ability to make you feel safe and its like they are giving you a huge hug in a blanket of safety and trust. So yeah Lo will instantly make you feel safe and loved whenever they talk to you.

(Credits to @marshmallowmischief for this one)

(74) they're so valid in everything they do

(Credits to me for this last one)

(75) You give the absolute best virtual hugs.

Lo, this is for you. We thought you could use some love, so I asked some people to help and we put this together. Sorry it's a bit of a mess, but it's made with love

Overall credits to:

@thelonelycreature

@marshmallowmischief

@lovesupportandcookies

@ihavenoclueanymore

@nonbinaryroyaltylove

@lovelylogicality

27 notes · View notes

themagiciansreccenter · 6 years ago

Text

The Great Blank Spot: @under-the-shady-tree

So much goes into creating fanfiction even before the first words hit the paper. And in-depth spotlight on our writers and the process behind their work.

Tell us about your current project.

It's about timeline 23 and everything I think could have happened during it.

The fics are finally posted from The Trials. Did you participate?

I didn't, I would like to at some point in the future, but I was so wrapped up on this and past projects that I completely missed signing up.

What is your current word count?

46,405

Do you try to write daily? Do you have a word count or other goals you try to hit for each writing session?

I write most days, I wouldn't say daily but really close to daily. I used to try for a word count goal but I started to get really discouraged and stressed by doing it that way. I set goals like, get this conversation finished, rewrite that bit of narrative, start this scene. On days I'm not feeling that creative I handle something smaller and on the days I'm bursting then I tackle something big.

What was the inspiration for this fic?

The episode "Twenty Three" mostly. I loved that there were all these little changes about the timeline and I wondered what else could have been different. I also wrote something in a different fic with Penny23 and it had a few of his observations about the differences between the timelines that I thought were really fun. I found myself not able to let go of the little pieces and I needed to write a full fic on it.

How do you stay motivated between chapters/stories?

It's hard sometimes, but I've found that when I start to think about quitting I remember a scene or a moment later on that really excites me and remind myself I have to keep writing to get there. Also talking with others in the fandom and getting that support has been really the biggest thing, knowing that someone else is excited about what I'm doing.

Did this fic require any research? How much research do you typically do for your fics?

I watched the episode Twenty Three a lot. Each time I would watch it I would try to plot out one of the characters stories and make sure I get them to end up how they ended up in the episode. I also have reread the first Magician's book multiple times in the past few months, paying extra close attention to the Brakebills chapters so I could bring in as much book stuff as I could. For other fics, I can't think if much research I've done. The stuff I wrote about didn't really require it over knowing show and book canon. This has been the most research I've done because of everything it involves.

Do you typically write ahead or post as you go?

I usually post as I go and it's what I have been doing with this fic but I've recently decided to hold off posting until I have more written. I want to give myself some time to really work hard on this because it's a bigger fic than I'm used to writing. With more characters and storylines and just a lot more going on. I'm going to see how it goes with this fic and I might keep that going for future projects.

How much planning and outlining did you do before you started putting words on paper?

Oh man...a lot. This fic has been slowly brewing since the episode aired and I posted the first chapter in September. The time between all that I was working on this in some way. It was mid July that I finally felt like I had the story in place that I wanted to tell and began officially writing the first chapter.

Has it been pretty smooth sailing or rough waters? When things get rocky, how do you handle needing to rewrite sections or scrap scenes entirely?

It hasn't been all that smooth, honestly. Trying to figure out what to add and how things could be the same or different has been a challenge. There are at least three big events that happen in the show that I have completely deleted and one of those was really hard to let go of because of how attached I was to it. Ultimately though, the story works better with those things gone and I try to remember that. There are other things I've cut for lesser reasons, mostly because I think it will make the story drag a little. I have a few I've put a pin in and hope to someday write them as a shorter fic that could accompany this one. So some things that are cut aren't going to be gone forever. Still the biggest thing that gets me through when it gets hard is the wonderful support I feel from this amazing fandom.

Excerpt

“Eliot?” Closing his eyes, Eliot felt like he might actually cry and he took a deep breath before finally looking at Quentin who stood awkwardly in front of him like he appeared out thin air. “Are you okay?” Eliot smiled, Quentin’s eyes were wide with concern and Eliot almost felt sorry for him. What had this poor kid done to end up anywhere near him?

“I’m fantastic.” his voice didn’t sound familiar but he pushed on. “What are doing here?” Quentin pulled his arms around himself; he wasn’t even wearing a coat.

“When Amanda gave you that note, you got this look on your face,” Quentin looked embarrassed but Eliot’s heart sped up at the thought of Quentin studying his expressions enough to know when something was wrong. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” his teeth were chattering now and Eliot shook his head as he shrugged his coat off.

“So you ran after me without a coat.” Eliot stepped forward and draped the coat on Quentin’s shoulders. “How romantic,” They stood close enough for a moment that their breath visible in the cold air, swirled and mixed together until it was all just a cloud of mist in front of them.

Anything else you want to add/think we should cover?

I just want to say that for the first time I feel I'm starting to come out of my own shell and really feel more comfortable asking for help and I want to thank everyone who has been there. It means the world to me!

The Great Blank Spot is an in-depth spotlight focusing on the writing process and previewing in-progress fics for our fandom. It is meant to be an organic, ever-evolving feature. Previously interviewed fic writers can reach out to us here, to have a specific work featured. If you’d like to have a work featured but haven’t done the author spotlight, reach out to us to get started. If you have suggestions for questions you’d like to see answered, shoot us an ask!

#the magicians #the magicians rec center #the great blank spot #author spotlight #author spotlight: under-the-shady-tree

14 notes · View notes

linguisticswithlester · 7 years ago

Text

Let Me Memorize Your Eyes - Chapter 5: Empty Name Tag

Rating: Not Rated

Word Count: 2734

Warnings: VERBAL/MENTAL ABUSE MENTIONED AND A BREIF MENTION OF HOMOPHOBIA

Note: So sorry for no upload on Thursday. I have so much stuff going on with school and work that uploading twice a week is not a good idea. So instead, ill be uploading every Monday (or I'll try too). I hope you all enjoy this chapter, its a little longer and I actually enjoy this one. Im going to try and speed things up from now on in the story so prepare for that because im ready for the dnp angst.

Summary: Phil is a struggling artist with bruised trust and Dan is a talented baker working in a coffee shop trying to forget his smoldering past. When their paths cross will Dan end up being Phil’s new muse? Or will he be the one thing keeping Phil from putting brush to canvas ever again?

[Read on AO3]

[Read from the beginning]

Phil was laying on top of his unmade bed trying to fall asleep in the heat of summer but, sleep wasn’t going to make its appearance tonight. Rolling over, Phil let out a sigh; today was rough. It started out with an email that may change his life, he actually drew something so that was a start; he saw a cute boy and didn’t completely make a fool of himself. So that was an upside. That café has been in his life for a while so it’s just about time something embarrassing happen. Phil’s just waiting for it to hit.

Phil has been going to that café for just around two months. His coffee maker broke around that time and going to the shop to replace it wasn’t on Phil’s list of most important to-dos. He always passed by it on his way home from work throughout the week anyway. So he figured he’d give it a go after day three without coffee.

He knew Becca and Will, well he knew their names but, that still counts. He would talk to them from time to time and they had his order down to a science. They were the only two employees that have worked there since Phil started going. The other employees always end up leaving after a few weeks for reasons Phil had no idea about.

The café was cute and quaint. It had a homey feel to it; it looked as if a grandma decorated it and the owners never bothered to change it. It reminded him of home, with his parents, before he decided to move out and move in with Andrew all those years ago. That move was the spark of his creativity but, it also was the destruction. Everything that made Phil, stemmed from Andrew. The way Phil wore is hair, the clothes he wore, the shows he watched. Everything that Phil knew was because of him.

They had met when Phil was right out of high school. Phil was naïve and still figuring stuff out but, Andrew swept him off his feet and never set him back down. He was a sweet talker and made Phil feel things that no one ever has. He made him feel safe and secure and when people would pick on Phil for his sexuality, he stood up for him and made him feel like nobody matter but him. Until, that trait made a turn for the worst. Everything Phil did had to revolve around Andrew. When Phil woke up, when he went to bed, how he did the laundry. Andrew wanted everything to be perfect, even Phil. He would scold Phil if anything was out of place.

And that was the thing, Andrew would say the meanest, rudest things to Phil, yet he thought he deserved it. Andrew was Phil’s first love and Phil wanted to keep him as long as he could. After fights, Andrew would come back and apologize; making Phil feel special again. He would cry and say sweet things trying to make up for what was said previously. Phil tried his best to be everything Andrew wanted but, being something you’re not is a lot of unnecessary work.

Towards the end of their eight-year relationship, Phil finally saw what Andrew was and everything he had done to Phil. Andrew would never lay a hand on Phil in a violent manner, but Andrew tried his best to ruin Phil’s brain. Phil wasn’t a puppet, where one could grab his strings. He wasn’t a science project that needed revision. He was Phil. He was imperfect and messy; he made stupid puns that no one laughs at and cries watching animal planet. But that is okay, because that is Phil. It took him such a long time to realize that but, once he did. He knew he had to leave.

A single tear fell from Phil’s eye landing on his pillow in princess fashion, wiping away the trail it left on his face, Phil dug himself out of the hole that he crawled himself back into. It was hard not dwelling on memories that took up so much of your life. It took Phil so long to realize to that he was worth fight for. He began seeing a therapist that helped him through some of his doubts after he left Andrew. Phil still sees her from time to time, when he thinks he needs to. Five months isn’t a long time to get over an abusive relationship, but it was a start and that’s all Phil needed; a start. Painting used to be his release because he could see the light at the end of the tunnel but now, the light is gone and all there is grey. He can still make out shapes and some memories but there is an overcast refusing to move. Picking up a paintbrush was hard but, letting the dark memories of his past control him was harder.

Refusing to let another memory cloud his eyesight, he got out of bed. Leaving the covers ruffled and the pillows thrown about, Phil slipped into an old T-shirt and a pair of shorts he didn’t really care about and set out on a mission. Five months may not be a long time to get over an abusive ex but it sure was enough time to lose everything you once thought you could place. Checking under the bed, the bathroom closest, the lounge, and finally on the top shelf of the hallway closet, Phil found what he was looking for; his canvas.

Grabbing one down from the shelf, he also grabbed his easel that was propped in the corner, and headed back into his room. Phil laid down an old sheet across the floor and set up the easel placing the canvas delicately on top. Rushing about, Phil, gathered up paintbrushes, paint, his color tray, and anything else that he thought he might need. Grabbing his apron that hung with his jackets that he hasn’t needed in months, Phil loosely tied it around the back.

Staring at the blank canvas, with a paintbrush in hand is something Phil hasn’t done in months but, to back in this position felt right. It was like everything that he had been suppressing and hiding away was diminishing. Every swipe of the brush that touched the canvas erased another memory of Andrew yelling. Every changed color made every foul word that Phil ever thought about himself because of Andrew, vanish. Every time he blended and added dimension to the picture, his past blurred and a brighter future came forward to say Hi.

Furiously brushing the paint back and forth; blending here and adding shadows there, Phil had finally finished his painting. Taking a step back to see what became of his sleepless night, Phil gasped. He didn’t really pay much attention to what he was painting, or more like who he was painting. His thoughts had taken over and his hands did the rest.

The mystery boy with no name became what the canvas was showcasing. A chipped smile, unruly Hersey curls, and an outdated purple apron filled the once empty piece of fabric. It was beautiful for only having seen the man for a brief passing of time just that morning. Was Phil really staring at him? He could have sworn he only glanced up occasionally… right?

Inspecting the portrait, the boy was looking down at his right shoulder, curls flowing over his eyebrows. On the right side of his chest was an empty name tag tugging on the strap of his apron that had been worn by many. The boy was sporting a smirk that showed his top teeth but, his eyes just weren’t right. There was something off about them. Phil tried remembering how the boy looked at him handing him his coffee that morning but, all Phil saw was a missing name.

How could he have memorized that boys face so well but, not memorize his eyes?

______

Dan has been at the café for a little over a week now and it’s not as bad as it was in the beginning. He is getting along well with his coworkers; Becca still talks a lot but she’s running out of new information to gossip about and Will, well, Will’s still an idiot. Dan clocked out of his shift a few minutes after he was supposed to; they always have a rush right at four o’clock. He can’t seem to understand why April always has him leave at such an odd time. It gets a little chaotic trying to switch over current orders to the next person.

Dan hung up his apron and walked to his locker. There wasn’t much he kept in there; just his phone, wallet and, keys. Grabbing his belongings, he headed for the door. Shouting goodbyes once again to other workers he could finally call acquaintances, he pushed open the old wooded door making the bell above it chime in goodbyes. Turning left out of the building, Dan clicked the home button on his phone, lighting up the screen. No new messages.

He didn’t know what he was expecting but, something at least would have been nice. A text or phone call, just to let him know she was alright. Dan’s girlfriend had been on vacation for the last few weeks and he’s only heard from her a couple times. Her friends are better at letting him know she’s safe than she is. She can update Instagram just fine but, sending a text to her boyfriend was apparently too hard. Dan punched in her number on the dimming screen and raised it to his ear.

Ring.

We’re sorry but, the person you are trying to reach right now ca-

Click.

Wow, how surprising…Shoving his phone into his back pocket, Dan let out a breath. Relationships were hard but, they were even harder when one half of it forgets they’re in one. Thinking of all the things he was going to say to her when, if, she calls, Dan pulled down his long-sleeved shirt he had rolled up by his elbows and wrapped them around his hands. It may have been summer, and it may have been hot but, Dan was going to wear whatever the hell he felt like wearing.

Scrunching his hands into fists to keep the sleeves in place, Dan picked up his speed. He didn’t live too far from his work place; just a few blocks down actually. He recently moved to the area after what had happened back home. The memory still burned but, he was healing, mentally and physically. Clinching his fists tighter, as his hidden scars started to sting as if on que, he looked up.

Just when his eyes started to focus after his quick head lift, he spotted a fringe. It was black and looked smooth to the touch. Headphones around the owner’s ears with the cord running over the man’s chest, splitting in half the yellow star that took up most of his red shirt, created a ruffle in the otherwise tame hair. He wasn’t walking particularly fast, nor was he walking slow. He was walking with a sway of his hips and his hands twitching to what Dan assumed was with the rhythm of the music he was listening to through the headphones that canceled out the rest of the world.

“Do I know him? Why does he look familiar? Those glasses look too big for his he-” Dan thought to himself as the man walked right past him without adverting his eyes anywhere but to right in front of him.

“One L!” Dan said out loud, quickly reaching up and putting a hand over his mouth, thankful that the man was wearing headphones. It was the man from earlier in the week. Dan hadn’t seen him in the café since then. In all honesty, Dan was kind of disappointed. There was something about how focused and committed that man with one “L” was about what he was working on that inspired Dan. And he wouldn’t mind seeing his face again…

Dan glanced back to get one more look at the man that put a trance on him for some reason. He has never seen someone that looks quite like that man. He has a unique face, one that Dan wanted to get to know. Before Dan started his in depth analysis of a stranger’s face, his phone started to vibrate. He took out his phone and looked at his screen.

Incoming Call: Carol

Shit.

Dan rolled his eyes, swiped right and, answered the call just as he was throwing open the door leading into the building leading to his flat. Stepping carefully up the stairs, Dan said, “Hey Carol! How’s your vacation going so far?”

“Oh my god! It’s been so much fun! The beach is amazing and I never want to leave.” Carol replied, although it was hard to hear with the loud music playing in the background. “Although, Kristen said you’ve been messaging her all week. Can’t you just let me enjoy my vacation without having to check in on me every second of everyday?” Dan heard a squawk of girls in the background all chanting in agreement to what Carol had just said, as she let out a giggle to make what she said not seem so spiteful. He could tell they have already started drinking.

Dan’s eyes dropped and his head followed. Right outside of his flat’s door, dropping his keys from the now unlocked brass handle, Dan laid his forehead against the off-white door.

“Yeah, Okay Carol. I just wanted to make sure you were all right and that you were having a good time. I care about you and wanted to make sure you were safe. But it seems as if you would rather talk to literally anybody else than your actual boyfriend. What’s up with that?”

Dan had been having doubts about his relationship for a few months now. Carol never seemed to care what Dan was up to and never asked how he was anymore. Movies were painful to watch, dinner was always half eaten, and anything past a pat on the back was uncomfortable. They didn’t have a falling out; there was no mention of cheating. Carol changed though and their interests contradicted each other.

She became more herself and for that Dan was proud. He had been trying to get her to see her worth for years, even before they started dating. However, unfortunately for him, her new found self didn’t leave time for an outdated Daniel. Dan did his rediscovery, now it was her turn. If she wanted space, he would give it to her.

Before Carol had a chance to get defensive and place the blame on Dan, he said, “Hey Listen, I know that you want to have fun and enjoy the beach. I understand that; I just want you to know I love you and I want you to be safe. I’m a phone call away if you need me. Love you and I’ll talk to you when you get back. Bye Carol.”

Click.

He hung up before she had a chance to reply. Her new found self wanted to do all these new and adventurous things that Dan would never dream of doing. She held a little bit of resentment because of it. She wanted this fun life full of Instagram worthy pictures with Dan by her side but, Dan was okay playing Mario-Kart in the living room until 1am and talking walks through the same parks. He tried to be what she wanted but, his dreams kept him in Manchester. Everything he had ever worked for was there.

Pushing his unlocked door open, a cool breeze coming from his flat brushed past him. He was one of the lucky ones to find a flat that had AC. He threw his keys on the breakfast bar in the kitchen and headed to his bedroom. Not bothering to take his shoes off, Dan fell face first into his bed, letting out a sigh. Dan’s eyes started closing and his head started to clear when –

Bzz-bzz-bzz

April: Hey Dan. Sorry to bother you after work but, I need to talk to you about your schedule. We have had somebody else quit and I need to move you to our evening shift.

Ugh.

#lmmye #i hope you guys enjoy it #i actually like this one #please be easy with me im still new to this #if you see any mistakes feel free to message me so i can fix them #phanfic #phanfiction #my first fic #chapter 5 #phan #dnp #dan and phil #daniel howell #dan howell #phil lester #amazingphil #painter/baker au #feel free to ask me questions!

5 notes · View notes

elizaxspears · 7 years ago

Note

Oh my gosh wonderful! Can you do a Slingphries pairing AU of Pirate Captain Eric catching a merman (or mershark) Alan? The rest is up to use your creative mind. (Hope it doesn’t sound too cliche or cheesy) Or if not that one, a possible Werewolf Eric encountering Hunter Alan? Either one is fine, or if you feel up to both then that’s fine too! Thanks!

My apologies that this took a bit to write! To be honest, I’ve wanted to write a Merman!Alan AU for sometime, I have a few random bits here and there stored away, so thank you for letting me indulge in one of my secret writing pleasures! I hope you enjoy it!

Also, I tried on the Pirate stuff. I’m not the best at it, but hopefully it was something you were looking for! And wow. I forgot this was a oneshot and almost started making this into an entire blown out story. Sorry again if the end feels kind of cut short or rushed or anything.

If it wasn’t what you were wanting then message me and I’ll write something else with Merman!Alan and Pirate!Eric. This is just what first came to mind from old Merman Alan drafts I had!

The ship swayed, carried by the waves. The wind harsh against the sails, pushing the grand ship forward. Dark clouds began forming overhead, swallowing the blue sky. The way they were headed, treacherous waters were to follow, but if they were to find what they’d set out searching for, extreme waves would be well worth it.

A creature had been seen, a being that only was ever seen by the human eye a handful of times. The elegant, emerald tail with iridescent scales just reflecting enough to catch the eye of a few fisherman sitting at the docks. The full body of the creature had never been revealed but, even by this simple rumour, the search for the being began. Many went out to sea and many never returned, swallowed by the very waters this being lived in.

This would not have been the first sighting of one of these creatures. Though extremely rare, they had been seen and one even caught. Though never physically seen by anyone, the sailor who announced its presence held a scale not belonging to any fish. The man was made rich then, many pay far more than what they truly could afford all to even glimpse at proof of a myth.

As of now, Captain Eric Slingby took his crew out to sea to search for this creature under the belief, if a scale was worth that much, a whole tail would make them and any future generations, richer than the bloody King. The warnings the Captain heard did nothing to deter him, determined to finally repay what he owed. Though considered a private among the town, not welcome anywhere but his own boat, Captain Slingby had a debt to repay. He was by no means a righteous man, never claimed to be, nor did he ever claim to be an honest man, but he would pay what they owed.

The grey clouds grey darker until they were near black. A flash in the sky let the Captain know that it was time to prepare the crew for these waters.

The first wave hit the ship hard, knocking a few off their feet. The Captain remind steading at the helm, hands gripping tightly to the wheel. His teeth were grit to the point they might have shattered, his eyes narrowed, focused on nothing but getting through this storm. If there were to be that light at the other end, he would see it, damn it. “Capin’, we’re no’ gonna make it through this one.”

The voice didn’t matter, whoever spoke to him didn’t matter. All he needed to do was focus. “If ye think tha’, we’ll throw ye overboard now an’ get it done quicker.” The Captain sneered, arms shaking just a bit with the pounding waves trying to force them off course.

When they did break free of the storm, the water calming down until the large waves that hit them before split as the ship carried on, there was little time to take a deep breath. Almost immediately, the clear water provided sight to the same tail they’d heard about. “Captain!” someone from beloved called, “it’s here!” The Captain instantly ordered them all to get the net ready. It may not have been the best plan, but there was no way for them to go about this without accidentally killing this myth.

Perhaps it was too easy for a reason, but once the large net was tossed over, the weight they felt when holding it told them they’d caught what they aimed for. “Pull it up!” the Captain ordered, helping his crew pull up the net. To their surprise, the myth so many had been chasing now lay on the deck still trapped within the rope.

There was a moment of pause on the Captain’s part. The being laying in front of him could no long be considered a myth. The gorgeous, emerald green tail that glistened in the sun, the long, translucent fins, the same on the creatures arms. None of this was a myth anymore. As his eyes trailed up a lean torso, his eyes came to lock with a set of emerald eyes, the colour his tail. Chocolate brown hair fell slightly in front of those eyes, wet with the water he was just pulled from, his entire body still glistening with water droplets, but they met his eyes nonetheless. The Captain expected to see a sense of fear, maybe even anger, but all he got was curiosity. “Capin’?” a hand waved in front of his eyes. “Wha’ should we do with ‘im?” one of his mates asked, his voice conveying the amazement no doubt all of them felt.

Subconsciously his hand reached for his sword on his hip. The first thing that flash through his mind was cut off the tail, dump the upper half back in the water and take back the treasure. However, the longer he starred into those eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to do so or even order it. “We’ll take ‘im back tae town.” he looked around. “Tha’ crate. Bring it ‘ere, fill it with water an’ put ‘im in it. Cannae ‘ave him dying on us.”

“Aye, aye, Capin’.”

Eric stepped out of the way, watching the mer-creature. Though he looked dazed now, when he was touched he instantly tried fighting off those who grabbed hold of his arms, yanking him up to dump him in the create. They were rough with the being but Eric didn’t expect any different.

Slowly, the crate was filled with enough water to keep the being alive but not enough to be comfortable, not that the wooden crate would be comfortable in any regard to being with.

They kept watch over the being until the blue of the sky fell away to the dark of night, the little lights of stars flickering on as they sailed back to port.

The Pirate Captain was unable to sleep. He’d gotten used to the scratchy blankets and the swaying of the sea, but knowing the myth that attracted so many sailors was merely sitting in a crate half filled with water on the deck made him uneasy.

He removed himself from bed, foregoing his black coat to walk shirtless into the night, his body covered in battle scars and ink, all of which he prided himself on.

From his Captain’s Quarters to where the mer-creature rested, Eric felt every wave under his feet. Perhaps he was asleep and dreaming; the light mist that drifted in not helping that conclusion. When he did come to stand by the crate, the being looked asleep himself, curled in on himself, keeping as much of himself submerged as he could. This almost felt worse then killing him. “Will you continue to stare?”

Eric watched those eyes slide open, that same look of genuine, almost childlike, curiosity in those orbs. “Yer new tae me. Cannae help it.”

“Well, you’re not so familiar to me either yet I’m not gawking.”

Eric crossed his arms. “Familiar? Weren’t ye the one swimmin’ about near town?”

The merman frowned. “I was, yes, but I was only admiring from afar. I’ve never been this close to humans before.” he looked down at himself, flicking his tail so it flopped over the edge of the crate. “Suppose this is a proper punishment for me, hm? I allowed myself to be seen, hunted and now caught.” his arms hugged himself, that frown only tugging harder downward. “You’re meant to put me on display, right?”

Eric sighed, shaking his head. “Sorry lad, bu’ no.”

The merman blinked, shock now floating in those orbs. “No? Then you mean to…” when he realized that he would no longer see the sea or visit his underwater garden he’d spent so long meticulously crafting, his shoulders slouched, head bowing. “I see. Well, I suppose it’s fair. You caught me, after all.”

Eric wasn’t sure why he decided to, but instead of rolling his eyes and walking away from what he suspected to be a guilt-trap, he sat on the edge of the crate, letting folded hands rest in his lap. “Aye, it is fair.” he replied.

The merman looked up at him, his eyes flicking up and down, trying to look him over the best he could. “Can you make it quick?”

“I will.”

“Then…that’s all I ask.”

Eric brushed back a strand of his blonde hair undone from his earlier ponytail. “Ye ‘ave a name?”

“You’re going to kill me. Does it matter?”

“No.”

He turned his head to the water, letting the breeze be the only thing to break their silence. “Alan.”

Eric returned his attention to ‘Alan’. “Yer name?”

“Yes. Alan.”

“Eric then. ’s my name.”

“Eric.” Alan spoke as if testing the name on his tongue. “Suits you.”

“Suits ye too.” He watched Alan shift in the crate, wincing. He was no doubt cramped, especially when he would have been used to the vast room that the sea supplied. “‘m sorry ye ‘ad tae be put in tha’. Dinnae no’ want ye dyin’ sae…soon.”

“Why?’

That was answer Eric did have a question to. By rights, it’d be easier to do it that way and be done with it all, but again, he could not bring himself to unsheathe his sword. “We jus’ dinnae.”

The Captain was unaware how long he sat out there. He just knew that it was too long but even as he bid Alan a goodnight or morning, he couldn’t get him off his mind. Night after night he went back to visit the merman, all the time keeping his crew away from him as if they were vultures. Shrinking their duties to admire.

Eventually, it came time where they would arrive home the next day but even as Eric sat with Alan, there was regret weighing heaving in his stomach. Something he rarely ever felt. “I was nice to see such lovely sunsets.” Alan said, having found the most comfortable position in his crate. “It’s hard to see them so well from sea level sometimes.” he rested his folded arms on the edge of the crate, setting his chin on top of them. “You look upset.”

Eric turned his gaze to Alan from the stars he’d been watching. “I dun think I can do this.”

Alan cocked his head. “No? And why not?”

“Ye dun…dun deserve this.”

Alan reached out, his hand resting on Eric’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I told you that this was my fault, didn’t I?”

“Aye, but we went lookin’ fer ye. All the way out ‘ere too.”

Slowly, that hand traveled from his shoulder, up his neck to his cheek, guiding him down as Alan leant up. “Why do you want the gold?”

Eric felt his brow furrow. “Wha’?”

“The gold for getting one of my scales. Why do you want it?”

“I need tae pay someone off,” he began without thinking, “fer me sisters family. She needs it.”

Alan hummed, soothing his hand through Eric’s hair then leant in for a kiss that shocked the Captain. The merman lips were warm and smooth. Addicting, even. Eric allowed himself to indulge in the kiss, turning around to properly embrace the merman, wanting to pull him closer into his arms. “My, you seem desperate.” the merman breathed, parting the kiss enough to speak.

“’s jus’ ye.” and he kissed him again.

Alan took his hand, the one supporting the Captain on the edge to the crate and brought it to rest on his hip. “You can touch it, if you wish. I know many have the urge once they see it.”

Eric looked down at his hand then Alan’s tail. Carefully, he took that invite to run his palm down the scales. They were smooth under his hand, his fins feeling like almost like silk. “Amazin’.”

Alan laughed softly, letting his hand glide over Eric’s chest. “Now may you help me back to the water?”

“Back tae the water?”

Alan nodded. “I need to go back so I can repay you.”

For some reason, there was no need to question the creature. “Alrigh’.” he reached under, securing one arm under Alan’s tail and the other against Alan’s back. He hoisted the merman from his crate and walked toward the edge of the boat. “Do I jus’ throw ye in?”

Alan laughed again. “Just set me on the rail.” so Eric did, setting Alan down on the wooden rail. “Before I go, when you return to shore, go to the rock further out from where you stand on the dock. I’m sure you know the one. My repayment will be there.” and with that, the merman pushed himself off the edge of the rail and dove into the water, hardly making a splash.

He’d crawled out of his crate and pulled himself over the edge. That was the excuse Eric used when his crew demanded to know where the hell they’re payment went. Most seemed to take it, others cussed him out and left. Eric really didn’t care honestly. He would replace them with stronger, better men anyway.

Still, once they docked, Eric went to the rock. It always had an odd sheen to it that attracted many but he searched around and found nothing. He damned himself then, for being fooled by the creature.

He went back the next day despite the sour taste in his mouth except this time, there was something. A bag. He picked it up and opened it to find quite the amount of gold and jewels. This would be enough to repay those debts and then some. He looked up, scanning the horizon as the sun set. There, in the distance, he could see someone floating in the water. They waved at him then dove under the water, that tail catching in the last few rays of sunlight. Eric felt his heart thump then, a grin spreading on his lips. Something told him he’d be seeing Alan again but until then, they both still had the sunsets to keep them connected.

#slingphries #alan humphries #eric slingby #black butler #kuroshitsuji #my writing #animedragongirl12

9 notes · View notes

nsfmc · 7 years ago

Text

A checklist for computer science undergrads

influenced by john regehr's 'basic toolbox' post about this topic, i thought i would throw my hat into the ring given that my experiences have been different than john's and seem to be at odds with what i have observed from working with many competent developers.

As i was leaving grad school, a friend of mine suggested to me that a winning strategy in Industrial Design had been to pick some medium that you worked well in and focus on doing all your work with that. The rationale here was that starting anew each project with a new medium invariably impacted the execution of the final deliverable distracting your prof/critic/peers from the high-level feedback you actually wanted on your work, creative vision, etc.

The advice there is to focus less on the tool and more on using a tool efficiently to communicate your ideas. In most cases it does not matter what the tool is as long as you can deploy it to solve problems in your domain.

Much of the tooling that exists in CS is directed at very specific users: working programmers. using these tools correctly as an undergrad is aspirational, but often their execution is distorted in academic contexts.

Every lab or workplace should expect to bootstrap new hires on internal tooling/workflows and almost none of them should assume prior knowledge. Depending on the aims, the only hard requirement should be ability to program in a language or framework similar to the one being used.

Core skills

A single programming language

You do not need to be ultimately proficient in every language, you just need to be able to sketch out and implement a solution to most problems you encounter in one language you enjoy working in. Which language you pick does not matter. If you are in john's classes, however, you should probably ensure that you know two languages: a compiled/systems-ey one (rust, go, c, java, swift, clojure, etc) and a scripting language (python, ruby, javascript, clojurescript, elm, mathematica, anything goes here as long as it has a repl or runtime that you can use to hammer out solutions to problems).

If you're not one of john's students, typically the scripting language will suffice (although it is generally rare to finish a cs program being exposed to only one language).

s/Text Editor/Touch Typing/i

The advice to be familiar with a text editor is largely a request from others who expect you to competently pair-program with them at their pace. The point of knowing an editor is much the same as knowing at least one language passably: it should not be something that gets in your way.

More essential than being comfortable with a specific editor (it honestly does not matter which one as long as you like using it and you are productive with it) is being comfortable touch typing. In the event that slack or other IM platforms have not made you a better touch typist, it is well worth investing time if only so that the act of writing anything is no longer a major time hinderance.

At some point, you may find yourself bored or in need of procrastination and decide you want to customize your editor: that is a perfect time to try something like sublime or atom or vi or emacs.

rough shell experience

you should be able to navigate around a filesystem, make directories, read directory listings and read the cli help documentation for most commands.

you absolutely do not need to know the details of your shell's preferences around glob expansion or how to write legible shell scripts. you can learn that, but after a certain point, all the obscure functionality ends up beng more "dev-ops" style knowledge that rarely pays any dividends except when developing commercial developer-facing internal tooling.

incidentally, getting students past the hurdle of commandline BS is almost certainly a job of an advisor (or postdoc). Ignoring it helps nobody and if a research project's documentation (q.v. below) is poor or nonexistent, the PI only has themselves to blame for this ongoing time commitment.

reading documentation

this is probably the weakest skill i have seen from folks coming out of undergrad. nobody expects you to know all of a language, all of its quirks, etc etc. what you are expected to know is how to find the answer to any reasonable question around your language or toolchain of choice.

A useful skill: you should be able to, given a stylized block of shell commands, paste those into your terminal one-by-one in order to bootstrap some project i.e. ./configure && make && make test. nobody should expect that you understand autoconf unless your research project is specifically devoted to it in some obscure way (i'm sorry if this is the case).

Specifically, you do not need to know how to parse an excel-formatted csv, but you should know where to look (or be able to find a solution) in order to do that in a reasonable amount of time. You do not need to know what an ideal runtime serialization format is for your language, you only need to call back on the terms you learned in your cs classes: marshalling, serialization, persistence, writing data, etc. although it can be useful at the extremes, be skeptical of the amount and quality of programming language trivia you know offhand.

writing documentation

no, this is not technical writing. this simply means you should be able to write a plain text file for each project that outlines

how to build some program

what its implicit dependencies are

what its arguments are

what the exposed/public api is

aside from being useful to others, in roughly six weeks or half a semester, this will invariably be of use to future-you as well.

a good acid test here is pointing a friend to the project and asking if they can build it and understand how they might use it. at some point you will embed this knowledge into a Makefile, shell script, or some other dsl, but until then it is infinitely more useful to write down the steps.

html

unless this is your job (or you intend it to be) you only need to know how to make an academic-level webpage which requires only the most basic knowledge of semantic html: h1, h2, ul/ol li, p, a, img, pre, strong, em (optionally hr, dl dd & dt). avoid css. if anyone gives you shit, you can invoke "Default Systems" giving you a perfectly valid excuse to stop devoting any more attention to design after you have mastered those tags.

reproducing errors

it is unclear when you are an undergrad or novice if you have encountered a truly exceptional case or if you simply have no idea what you're doing. Make a habit of reproducing and then writing down steps to reproduce edge cases you encounter and share them with people you ask for help from.

above and beyond, if you can identify the specific step (or code or whatever) that you invoke that (seemingly) causes the error, you will have an easier time teasing apart the nature of bug as you are telling someone else about it.

the most basic of data visualization skills

all this means is that nobody is actually good at doing this and everyone thinks that two hours peeking at ggplot2 has made them wizards at communicating the complexity of some dataset or results. it hasn't.

in many cases it suffices to be able to graph something from mathematica, R, d3, mathplotlib, or google sheets / excel. again, nobody cares how you do it as long as you do it and it doesn't take you all day. if your lab or workplace has some in-house style for doing this, they will need to train you how to do that anyway.

nonlinear spider-sense

the single reason "big o" notation is taught in school is so that at some point you can look at a performance regression and say "ha, that almost looks like a parab—o.m.g." the ability to recognize code or performance that appears nonlinear (or pathologically exponential) is probably one of the core things that i think undergrads should try to hone because during almost no other time will you be asked repeatedly, and at length, to explain the space/time complexity of arbitrary blocks of code.

computers are fast enough that you can usually be blasé about performance but eventually you'll start looking. being able to recognize something that is accidentally quadratic is often the most practical day-to-day application of cs theory—hone this spider sense.

Nice to haves

Version Control

there is a large chasm between "git for one" and "using git as a team" and that harsh valley is almost certainly due to the large amount of human communication and coordination required to work on a project as a team. Most people stress learning git, but this is largely useless advice because most of git or hg's corner cases and weirdness only come up when you're trying to integrate your work successfully among your teammates. It is good advice to perhaps become vaguely competent using git or mercurial or rcs, that experience will almost certainly pale in comparison to the massive flail when you are trying to set up multiple worktrees to create integration branches that contain the contents of multiple prs (each likely with their own rebase/merge/squash quirks).

to that end, you should learn to, say, create a commit and push your work, but everything else beyond that is almost certainly guaranteed to be complicated by whatever your team's workflow is (github prs, phabricator, gerrit, etc). i have rarely met people outside of professional or open source contexts that are capable of producing sensible chained commits or sane pull requests, it is simply not a skill that is required outside of contributing to open source or working on a commercial application. When people ask for git experience they secretly crave this flavor of professionalism that it took months to acquire at each of their prior jobs or internships.

A Presentation Tool

the baseline here is very low, you only need to be able to make a presentation and in all likelihood if you are still an undergrad, you easily have ten-plus years of doing this already. worry about fonts/design/transitions/etc once your content is solid.

most people produce terrible presentations making the needed baseline here quite low—it is more important that you know how to practice giving a presentation than it is to actually create the slides for it.

debugger knowledge

i have met many successful professional working programmers that have little to no idea how their language's debugging tools work. if you are a gdb wizard this sounds shocking on its face but lots of developers make do just fine without them. This is not to say that you should be willfully ignorant of debuggers or eschew them (especially if this is part of your curriculum), but nobody should look down on you if you learn (or are taught this) On The Job.

many of these tools are technically robust but have a ui only moderately less hostile than an opaque box of loose razorblades and chocolates. much like git, most developers internalize some form of stockholm affection for these tools despite their poor design, nonexistent editor integration, and often incomplete terminal support.

you should understand roughly what a debugger is and what it can (and can't) do, but it's almost certain that you won't need to have mastered debugger internals straight out of college.

build systems

this is honestly a "top of maslow" need. This is great knowledge if you are planning to distribute code or need it to build dependably/reliably on others' computers, it is absolutely inessential for an undergrad to understand to do this level of orchestration except as documentation for others to evaluate that your project actually builds etc etc. if your advisor or boss asks you to learn something like make or whatever, then by all means.

You should know what a make tool is for and when it is necessary, but you should not expect that to apply to the lion's share of work you do in school.

working for a period of time before asking for help

although this should be a core skill many adults are incapable of doing this effectively. there is a tradeoff between "i'm learning" and "i'm being unproductive." In an academic lab, arguably much of your experience will appear to be some quantum state that simultaneously inhabits both extremes but your goal should be attempting to independently arrive at a solution and after some time cut-off (which you should negotiate with your advisor/postdoc/pi/whatever) you should say "i tried $A, $B, and $C to accomplish $GOAL and was unable to make any progress because $ERR_A, $ERR_B, and $ERR_C."

even the act of noting down "what i am trying to accomplish, how i tried, what went wrong" may in itself lead you to a correct solution, but without having done that due dilligence and outlined those aspects, it will be difficult to receive good feedback from somebody that is trying to help you.

unit/integrated/etc testing

if you find that something like TDD is useful for you as a productivity or refactoring tool, keep doing that! most working software people cannot even agree on what the point of testing is, so it feels unfair to burden undergrads with this. in a professional context, you will be in a codebase with some established testing norms, you need only mimic those until you have determined what works for you.

there are lots of sane and sensible resources for writing tests or thinking about tests. understand that everyone does testing slightly differently so your best bet will be to figure out how testing plays a part wherever you go. in most cases, that codebase will have a specific incantation to invoke tests, your best bet is to ask how they do things there are just go from there if the setup is not obvious.

understanding scope

most academic projects are poorly managed because they have inconsistent pressure to be profitable beyond whatever funding inspired them. simultaneously, many academic advisors are not trained well to manage or lead a team (remember, most were hired to write grants and produce research papers (or possibly to teach)). management is something an advisor is literally picking up "on the job".

If you are unsure what exactly you are supposed to do, you should clarify as soon as possible what deliverable is expected and when it is due. This seems obvious, but because communication is complicated you may end up assuming you need to, for instance, resolve outstanding cli argument parsing bugs rather than only needing to add support for a new one. Understanding the scope of a project you've been assigned prevents you from doing redundant work or opening prs that will never get merged.

language idioms

If you are cozy with a programming language, the natural evolution here is to begin learning what idiomatic programming is like for it: what are common libraries, do people tend to program it functionally or imperatively, for or map?, what patterns are awkward or hard to read, what are common tools in its toolchain, how do people use it to write web services, how do people use it to avoid shell scripting, what are its peformance pathologies, etc. this is the extension to knowing how to read the documentation: it is developing intuition about the language to avoid doing counterproductive work in the future.

Many developers learn one language and become fluent in its quirks then proceed to apply those to every language they see later on. if you encounter this as a novice, it may appear that they are simply Better Programmers and not, instead, people who are speaking a pidgin-python with a heavy haskell accent.

To recap

It is something of a mistake to hope that a cs student will have the gradually developed and refined skills of a professional tradesperson. Graduating cs students often do not have strong professional software development experience (this is what internships are meant to accomplish) but are good at thinking about design/architecture. if, at the very minimum, as an undergrad you can churn out some ruby and have the runtime execute it, you're usually in great shape.

most cs programs do not train students to develop tightly crafted applications with industry-tested documentation/syntax/structure/workflows etc. bootcamps, however, do stress this sort of thing, which causes a confusing periodic wave of "college is dead, long live bootcamps."

when looking at job descriptions or other checklists, it's useful to try to gaze back at the abyss and ask "why was this listed here?"

John's research is compiler-focused, deals with undefined behavior, and often invokes llvm, c, and other "low level" toolchains. a strong undergrad cs student will be able to intern with john productively because the core of his research focus is mostly general to computer science: correctness, compiler behavior, etc. someone with deep knowledge of C, llvm, compiler design/internals, etc is almost certainly in a position to become one of his graduate students or postdocs. I think john's list is interesting, but i think it emphasizes details that are often foreign to developers at all skill levels.

finally this list is biased itself, so take it with a grain of salt: all my work experience is in design and frontend/backend web development and the skills listed here represent the qualities i've observed from successful interns and developers i have interviewed and worked with in the past ~ eight years. my experience is clearly n=1, but among the things i've noticed is that it's easy to get people to learn git, but it's hard to get somebody to internalize recursion, nonlinear growth, or canonical architecture patterns within the same time period. i'm not saying it's impossible, but if you're a cs student, this is 100% what the point of most cs programs is.

2 notes · View notes

sadrien · 8 years ago

Text

prince of cats

chapter five: to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss

on ao3 || on ffnet 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

hey everyone, how was your week!

posting wise, we've passed the halfway point of what i currently have written (i have through ch9 written at the moment). i'll hopefully write most of the rest of the fic in august, just at the moment my productivity writing wise is down because i've been drawing a lot and listening to taz!

enjoy!

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess just letting u kno that i hate my boyfriend

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful Thats a lie and you know it Whats he making you do

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess >:( hes making us go out to dinner with his moms

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful Oh THIS dinner

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess yup

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful First of all I talked to Nino about it last time you brought it up and its just a normal dinner His moms just want to spend time with you two From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess ur sure From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful Absolutely Alya you love Ninos moms Theyve basically adopted you

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess ur right im just tired ninos really excited so i was worried im missing something or am gonna be surprised by something

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful As far as I can tell its just a normal dinner No surprises just Nino being Nino And the answer is to take a nap when you get home from work Did you not sleep much last night?

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess nah i was working on a project until like 3 cause i hate myself nino had to drag me to bed

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful Thank god for Nino

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess yeah he haaated me last night speaking of cute boys tho

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful Alya oh my god

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess im sorry uve been friends w adrien for how long now?? 3 weeks??? more than a month?? literal years!?!!?!??!?! u talk about him all the time when r we gonna meet him

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful Eventually!!!!! I promise I just dont want you scaring him away

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess nino and i r great we dont scare ppl

From: fashion goddess To: the Most Beautiful uh huh

From: the Most Beautiful To: fashion goddess shut up also get me his last name

✦ ✦ ✦

Marinette puts down her sketch book. “Let’s go to the store.”

Adrien looks up from his laptop in surprise. “What?”

She’s gotten used to weekends with Adrien. He doesn’t expect her to look nice or even all that presentable, and she doesn’t expect him to, they just sit on the couch or in the kitchen and do their own thing. Adrien usually works, because he literally never stops working, and Marinette designs. She forces him to watch her favorite shows with her, even if it means that she has to explain to him who every single character is and the entire plot. In return, he’s managed to get her to watch some of his favorite movies. He randomly shows up throughout the week if he needs something from her kitchen because he always seems to be short something. Marinette is genuinely considering giving him a key to her apartment. Even if it’s just so he can steal from her fridge and cabinets.

“The store.” She pulls her hair up into a messy bun and grabs her purse off the back of her chair.

Adrien stares at her like she’s grown another head.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want, but if you need anything, you should.” She gestures toward the door.

“What do you need?” he asks, apparently having found his voice.

“Fabric,” she says, ticking things off on her fingers, “some thread, ribbon, watercolor paper, brush markers if they have any, and pizza.”

He laughs and runs his hands through his hair. “I do like pizza.”

Marinette picks up her keys. “So are you coming? Because if you aren’t I should probably kick you out.”

“What?” Adrien asks as he stands. “You don’t trust me?”

“You might steal my Jagged Stone poster,” she says with a shrug of her shoulder.

“Fair enough.” He pulls on his coat. “Show me the way.”

✦ ✦ ✦

Marinette opts to walk to most of the stores. She asks Adrien if he minds and he just shakes his head and pulls his phone out of his pocket, sending a few quick texts as they make their way down the stairs and out of the apartment building.

“Where are we going exactly?” Adrien asks, pulling the door open.

“Fabric store first,” Marinette says, stuffing her phone into her purse.

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you have fabric at work?”

“Yes, but you’re missing the point— turn here. I don’t have fabric at home. At work, I do stuff for the head designer and my boss. I have much more creative freedom when I’m at home.”

“Huh.” Adrien flips his phone over in his hand. “Interesting. I know nothing about fashion so…”

Marinette smiles. “I sort of figured.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know much about how any sort of normal jobs work. I’ve got it relatively easy.”

“Working from your apartment and living off of take out?” she asks innocently.

Adrien rolls his eyes. “Yes exactly.”

Marinette elbows him lightly. “You’re very lucky you have me to teach you how to bake.”

It’s a nice day, not too hot and not too cold, without too many people walking around the streets. She finds herself wishing that she had more free time to spend outside, that she still had a balcony like she did when she was growing up. She misses having time to herself, where she could garden and sit outside and sew. It’s too nice to be stuck inside all the time.

Adrien accuses her of taking the long way and she doesn’t defend herself.

She holds the door open for Adrien when they get to the store, letting the far too cold airconditioning billow out onto the sidewalk.

Adrien wanders around in a sort of daze as Marinette pulls out her sketchbook and meticulously looks for the exact shade of blue that she needs.

“You needed ribbon?” Adrien asks, suddenly popping out of nowhere.

Marinette squeaks and jumps back with a start, dropping her sketchbook in surprise.

“Sorry about that,” he says sheepishly before bending over to pick up her sketchbook. He hands it back to her, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

She takes a few deep breaths before taking the sketchbook from him. “It’s fine, you just surprised me. Easy to do when I’m concentrating.”

“What are you looking for?” Adrien asks, leaning closer, tilting his head to look at the page she has her sketchbook flipped open to.

“A blue,” Marinette murmurs, pointing to a swatch of fabric she stole from work and taped onto the page. “I mean obviously I have a type of fabric in my mind, I’m just really desperate for this shade of blue because—” Well…she doesn’t actually have a reason. She’s just attached. And that’s silly.

Adrien hums to himself. “Okay,” he says after a moment. And then he vanishes into another aisle.

Marinette stares at the space he was occupying for a long moment before shrugging and moving on. She decides she’ll find the blue later and starts looking for white lining. She pulls a bolt from the shelf, feeling the fabric between her fingers. It’s a little heavier than she would like, but if she can’t find anything else, she can make it work.

Adrien steps out from around the corner. “Would this work?” he asks, holding out a bolt of blue fabric.

Marinette blinks and takes it from him, running her fingers over the satin-like fabric. “This is…this is perfect, actually.”

He shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “I have a lot of experience with lots of types of fabrics.” He ignores the confused look Marinette gives him. She has questions, but mostly she’s just glad she doesn’t have to rethink the entire color scheme of this outfit.

Adrien watches over her shoulder as she chooses ribbon and nods as she rambles on about what she’s making. He doesn’t look like he understands what she’s saying to him, but he’s listening and that’s enough.

Marinette estimates how much fabric she needs and Adrien hums to himself as they get the fabric cut and check out.

“What did you think?” Marinette asks as he pushes the door open for her.

Adrien blinks in the bright sunlight and glances down the street before looking back to Marinette. “It was nice,” he says. “Overwhelming, but strangely calming.”

Marinette laughs. “That sounds about right.”

“Where to next?” Adrien asks with a tilt of his head.

✦ ✦ ✦

“Know anything about art?” Marinette asks as she pulls open the door to the art store.

“Hardly,” Adrien says with a crooked smile. “I don’t know anything about most creative things. I know music and that’s kind of where my creative talents end.”

“Music?” Marinette asks. He’s never mentioned anything about music before, though he hasn’t mentioned many hobbies or talents in general.

“Piano,” he specifies. “Took lessons for years, my parents insisted.”

Marinette leads him toward the markers and paints. “So you must be pretty good, huh?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Nowhere as good as my father would like me to be, but I’m passable.”

She rolls her eyes. “So that means you’re fantastic.”

“It really doesn’t,” Adrien says with a laugh. “But thanks for your faith in me.”

Marinette studies the brush markers, trying to decide what brand to get and how much money she’s willing to shell out today. Adrien amuses himself by uncapping some of the markers and trying out the testing markers while she Googles reviews on the internet. He’s flipping through an anatomy book when she decides on a set of markers and moves on to paper. She’s running low.

Marinette wanders further down the aisle where the sketchbooks and papers are. She feels someone’s eyes on her, but when she looks up, she sees a worker at the entrance. Marinette picks up a pack of watercolor paper and hums to herself. She still isn’t sure if she likes this paper, but she has very few options she can afford.

Adrien holds up a copic marker. “Why is this seven euros?”

She blinks at him. “Because it is?”

He squints at it. “It’s just a marker?”

“It’s a copic marker,” she says, like that will explain everything. Judging by the expression on his face, it doesn’t help at all. Marinette takes the marker from him and puts it back with the others. “It’s alcohol based and fancy, that’s why it’s expensive.”

Adrien looks at the case of copics in wonder. “Why would you spend so much on a marker?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette says. Adrien raises his eyebrows and she just shrugs. “I don’t usually use them. I don’t need nice markers and I don’t exactly have a lot of money to be spending on things I don’t need.”

“Fair enough,” he murmurs. He narrows his eyes at the copic. “That better be one magical marker if I’m paying seven euros for it.”

Marinette snorts. “Lucky for you, you’re not.”

Adrien gives her a lopsided smile. “Yeah, that’s true. I’m no Picasso. I think the best I can do is a stick figure.”

She elbows him lightly. “I’m sure you draw beautiful stick figures.”

Adrien laughs and for that moment, Marinette’s world gets a little brighter and her heart starts to sing.

✦ ✦ ✦

“Have you ever had pizza here?” Marinette asks as her and Adrien wait in line to order.

“Mostly I just get whatever will deliver,” he admits.

“You don’t leave the apartment much, do you?” she teases.

Adrien rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t usually need to.”

“Do you know what you want or do you just want the same as me?”

“Let’s go with the latter.”

Marinette orders her usual and pays before Adrien can offer, rejecting it when it does come. “My treat,” she says with a smile.

They sit in a booth by the window with their pizza and bags.

“Careful, it’s hot—” Marinette warns, just as Adrien burns his tongue.

“Ahhhh—” He sticks his tongue out and makes a pained expression.

She hides her smile behind her slice, but Adrien catches it and glares at her. She just shrugs. “I tried to warn you.” As she picks up her slice, someone catches her eye.

They’re watching her and Adrien out of the corner of their eye. They make eye contact with her and quickly go back to whatever they were doing on their phone. Adrien hisses in pain, bringing Marinette’s attention back to their table. “That was a mistake.”

Marinette opens her mouth to reply. The strange feeling of someone’s eyes on her passes through her and makes her freeze up and she looks back to the person who was watching them. They’re packing up their things and heading out the door.

“What is it?” Adrien asks.

Marinette shakes her head. “Sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew. I was wrong.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Been there, done that. I’ve walked up to people thinking I knew them before. I did not.” She winces. “It was incredibly embarrassing.”

“I can imagine,” she says, taking a careful bite of her pizza.

Adrien eyes her. “Am I going to burn my face off this time?”

Marinette snorts and lowers her slice. “I think you’re okay now.”

“If I die, my blood is on your hands,” he says seriously.

She rolls her eyes. “Pizza isn’t going to kill you, I promise.”

✦ ✦ ✦

Adrien trails behind Marinette on the stairs, writing a quick email and carrying one of her bags.

“Come in for a minute?” Marinette asks as she pulls out her keys.

“Hm?” Adrien asks. He glances up from his phone. “Oh! Oh yeah, sure. I left my laptop on your table, anyway.”

She shakes her head as she unlocks her apartment. “You have to have more of your stuff at my apartment than your own.”

“It’s called minimalism,” Adrien says seriously.

Marinette frowns as the door swings open. She glances over her shoulder to Adrien. “I didn’t leave the TV on, did I?”

Adrien shakes his head. “We didn’t have it—”

“Hey!” Alya shouts from the couch.

“—on…” He trails off and hangs back by the door.

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s one of my friends. Trust me, I regret letting her have a key to this place,” she stage whispers. She shuts the door once Adrien has stepped inside after a bit of hesitation. She leaves her bags on the table before joining Alya, and apparently Nino, in front of the TV.

Nino pauses whatever show they’re watching and returns to the Netflix home screen.

Marinette crosses her arms and leans over the back of the couch. “Why are you in my house?”

“Apartment,” Nino corrects lightly.

Adrien snorts from where he’s standing awkwardly in the kitchen. He puts Marinette’s bags down on the counter and closes his laptop before holding it to his chest.

“I’ve got a present,” Alya sings, holding up a box.

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Is this payment for breaking and entering?”

“It’s not breaking if you have the key,” Nino points out. He continues to flip through Netflix. “Can’t argue the entering though.”

Alya smiles brightly at Adrien, but Marinette doesn’t miss the way Alya’s eyes sweep over him, taking in as many details as she can. “Hey, stranger!”

Adrien lifts a hand awkwardly, still hanging back by the door.

Nino leans back and nods at Adrien. “Yo, join the party.”

“I should—” Adrien gestures to the door.

Alya jumps up from the couch and hops of the back. She grabs Marinette’s arm as she breezes by, dragging her over to Adrien.

“Alya,” Marinette hisses, attempting to dig her heels into the ground as Alya pulls her along.

“I’m Alya!” she announces, holding out her hand to Adrien. “Marinette’s best friend.”

Adrien hesitates for a long moment before he shakes Alya’s hand. “Adrien. Marinette’s…” his gaze slides to Marinette before snapping back to Alya. “Her neighbor.”

Marinette tries to keep her blush from burning too brightly.

Alya shakes his hand eagerly. “Great to meet you!”

“Nino!” he shouts from the couch. “But I was working all day and I’m tired so sorry, dude, I’m staying put.”

“It’s fine,” Adrien promises. “I really should be getting back. Plagg needs to be fed.”

Marinette nods and pulls away from Alya. “Yeah, of course! Let me just— I’ll show you out.” Alya puts the box into Marinette’s hands winks. Marinette gives her a little shove toward the couch as Adrien pulls open the door.

“You didn’t have to show me out,” Adrien insists as Marinette quickly closes the door once they’re in the hallway. She leans against it so Alya can’t look out the peephole. “I’m sure I won’t get lost on the way home.” He gives her a small smile.

“I wanted the chance to apologize for…them.” Marinette waves at the door behind her. “Mostly Alya, but both of them. They can be a lot.”

“They seem nice,” Adrien says, and Marinette still can’t read him well enough to know if he’s being sincere or not. “What did they get you?” He gestures to the box Marinette is awkwardly holding.

“Pastries. They’re from my parents’ bakery,” Marinette says quickly. “Tom and Sabine’s— they’re my parents. That’s me, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Tom and Sabine.” She swallows and glances down at her feet. That was a little too much rambling.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Adrien repeats softly. “You have a beautiful name.” He’s smiling when Marinette looks up at him.

She bites her lip. “Th-thank you. What about you, what’s your last name?”

“Kersey,” Adrien says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smirk. “Adrien Kersey.”

“A nice name,” Marinette says, running it over in her mind. Alya will kill her if she forgets it, but Marinette is fairly certain it’s burned into her brain forever.

“Thanks, my parents chose it,” Adrien jokes. “I’m just stuck with it.” He pushes open his door. “You’ll have to take me to your parents’ bakery sometime. I bet it’s great.”

“Sounds good,” Marinette murmurs as Adrien lifts a hand and disappears into his apartment. When the door clicks shut behind him, she sags against her own door and lets out a sigh.

She really doesn’t know how to handle this boy.

Alya and Nino are staring at her when she reenters the apartment. Marinette feels her face burn as she closes and locks the door.

“Not a word,” she says, putting the box from the bakery down on the kitchen counter.

Nino mimes zipping his lips shut.

“No words?” Alya asks. “Are you sure? Because I have so many words.”

“Yeah, he’s hot,” Nino says.

Marinette glares at him. “Thanks for not saying anything.”

“Alright, now that we are saying things,” Alya says, twisting around on the couch, “where were you? You don’t leave the house without us.”

“I leave the house!” Marinette protests.

Nino raises his eyebrows. “To have fun?”

Marinette turns away to put her keys back.

“Oooo,” Alya drawls. “Silent treatment.”

“It wasn’t fun, anyway,” Marinette says. “I had errands to run.”

“That you decided to run with a cute boy,” Alya points out.

“That sounds like fun to me,” Nino muses.

Marinette glances over her shoulder at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side here?”

Alya gives her an offended look. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“I’ve known him longer.”

“Touché, Dupain-Cheng,” she says, narrowing her eyes.

Marinette sighs. “Speaking of last names…”

“You got it!” Alya shouts, jumping up from the couch. Nino tries to shush her, and she grabs a pillow and covers his face with it. “Tell me tell me tell me— I want to Facebook stalk him.”

Nino pulls the pillow away. “Who uses Facebook anymore?”

Alya turns to Marinette with wide eyes. “Is he secretly a wine mom?”

Marinette stares at her for a long moment. “Why are we friends.”

Alya throws the pillow across the room.

Marinette bats it away and says, “If you want Adrien’s last name, maybe you shouldn’t be throwing things at me.”

“She has a point, babe,” Nino agrees.

Alya sticks her tongue out at him before patting the cushion next to her eagerly. “Come on, Mar! I’ve waited a literal month for this.”

“Hm…” Marinette taps a finger against her lips. “Maybe I should keep you waiting.”

“Marinette!”

“Fine!” She drops down between Alya and the arm of the couch. “His last name is Kersey.”

Alya yanks her phone out of her pocket and starts typing rapidly.

Nino leans forward to look Marinette in the eye. “How long do you think she’s going to be at this?”

“A long time,” Marinette admits.

“Wanna see what Disney movies are on Netflix?” he asks, picking the remote back up. “We put some takeout in your fridge for later tonight.”

“Sounds good to me,” Marinette says. “I need to do a lot of nothing before work tomorrow.”

Nino types in Disney and starts scrolling through the results. “Are Zoé and Dorian still arguing about that thing?”

“If you’re talking about that jacket thing from a few weeks ago, they’re over that. If you’re talking about fake leather, they spent like an hour ‘debating’ that on Friday.”

“Fake leather,” Nino says in wonder. “Why were they debating that? I thought this collection was all like…dresses and stuff. Flowy soft things. What does fake leather have to do with that?”

“Nothing.”

Nino stops clicking through movies for a second. “I don’t understand you people.”

Marinette sighs and sinks against the back of the couch, pulling a pillow to her chest. “Neither do I,” she murmurs.

#adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #my fics #proc ml #prince of cats ml #hello

141 notes · View notes