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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years ago

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Soulmate September - Day 2

Day 2 - There is a timer that counts down to when you will meet your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Romantic RoSleep (Roman x Remy/Sleep), background Analogical

TWs: Mild Swearing from Remy __

“No, no, no, you move my 3 O’clock to 4, my 4 O’clock to 5, then cancel it. I don’t even want to have to look at that scumbag from accounting today, babes.”

Remy kept taking on his bluetooth headset as he approached the Starbucks he’d grown so accustomed to. Normally just inhaling the scent of ground coffee, vanilla, and cinnamon spice would be enough to flood his stressed cranium with serotonin. But that wasn’t going to cut it today.

Today he was on a mission; his soulmate timer had stopped during his visit here a week ago, and he was determined to find out who it’d stopped for. With his schedule cleared as much as possible, Remy walked into the Starbucks in his business attire, having only bothered to throw on his leather jacket when he’d left the office. Not that his outfit was unplanned, he had made a point of wearing the same white button up shirt, black waistcoat, and matching black slim cut pants he’d been wearing when he first noticed the timer had stopped. If not for making sure his soulmate recognised him, then simply because he looked damn good.

It was a gamble, assuming his soulmate would be there today, but by now he was desperate. Remy knew the rules; after exactly a week was up, his timer would disappear for good and he’d never know who his soulmate was. And he wasn’t about to let that shit fly. No sirree.

“Now, which one of you is it?”, Remy mumbled under his breath. As he stood just about to open the door and leave, Remy had memorised the men who were present in the cafe that fateful day; eight potential men, two eliminated visually over the first two days when he noted their timers were still going. Another three all eliminated themselves the days following as they revealed themselves to be straight, in a relationship, and very straight, in that order. Remy sighed impatiently as he perused the last three men he’d narrowed things down to.

The first was a short, burly man with chestnut brown hair that tickled his button nose while he leant over to pet the outrageously cute border collie sat by his chair. His cheeks were dusted with freckles that drew attention to his mossy green eyes and sunkissed skin. The blue polo shirt and tan shorts he wore clashed with the fact he clearly worked hard labour in the outdoors. Remy guessed he worked with plants going by his scuffed and dirty boots, and the mud on his pupper’s paws. Remy dubbed him, unsurprisingly, Dog Guy.

The second, Space Cadet, was a far departure from Dog guy; his auburn hair and pale skin spoke of celtic origins while his numerous books concerning the far reaches of the universe spoke of the cosmos. Of a man who harboured an intense scientific curiosity as deep as his sapphire eyes. His black shirt hidden under a dark blue flannel shirt showed the insignia of the local museum, which Remy found fitting. In the nicest way possible, Space Cadet looked like he belonged there with his pristine glasses and tidy upkeep that bordered on neurotic.

And the third man, Anxiety Magnet, was once more a drastic change from the other two. Dark skin melted into an all black outfit consisting of a black hoodie sporting custom purple patches - perhaps he made it himself, Remy couldn’t be sure - alongside black ripped skinny jeans. His purple sneakers matched his nailpolish and eyeshadow framing heterochromic brown and green eyes. Every time Remy would scope out the young man, he’d always be anxiously biting his nails, fidgeting with his napkins, or doodling in the notebooks (Remy noted three different ones at least) he brought with him.

Remy was in for a loooong ride but hopefully today he’d finally figure out which of these lucky doofuses is his soulmate.

He walked over to the counter to order his usual drink, giving the familiar barista a nod as the man recognised him,

“Afternoon, Remy,”, the barista smiled, “The usual for our beloved fairy godmother?”

Remy rolled his eyes fondly, “Roman, babes, kindly shut up.”

Roman laughed, “Come now, wouldn’t want you turning into the Evil Queen, would we?”

“Joke’s on you, babes, I like the Evil Queen.”

Roman feigned a dramatic gasp, only returning to making Remy’s usual once he’d secured a smile from the stressed office worker. Remy twirled his lanyard in his hands; Remy Merryweather. Of all names to be cursed with around a Disney fan like the barista, it HAD to be one of the uncool ones. Okay, maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if Roman hadn’t insisted on labelling his drinks with “Flora”, “Fauna”, and “Aurora” ever since. Remy didn’t dwell too long on the kindly barista though, he was a man on a mission.

Turning his attention to his first choice, Space Cadet, Remy watched him from the table he sat at; no wedding ring, his wrist was covered from sight, and he was most certainly gay going by the pride patches sewn into the backpack under his table. Perfect, he could just be the one.

As if on cue, Space Cadet shifted his watch and frowned. Perhaps he’d get lucky-

Ah, he’s leaving. Shit. Well, there was nothing else for it, Remy carefully nudged the trashcan by his seat as the man walked past, tripping him. The man let out a yelp and hit the floor. Remy was just getting up to help him when Anxiety Magnet came hurrying over out of the blue,

“You alright?! That looked painful....”

What the fuck. Remy was about to speak up when Space Cadet locked eyes with Anxiety Magnet and for a moment the two were silent as the latter checked his timer, prompting the former to do the same.

Son of a bitch.

Space Cadet sat up and reached a hand out to Anxiety Magnet, revealing that his timer had just stopped.

“Logan Baird, charmed to meet you, dear soulmate.”, he smiled warmly at the anxious man who helped him to his feet.

“Likewise,”,the anxious man responded, “Virgil Peyton. Nice to know my soulmate’s so handsome.”

Ugh. Remy watched as Space Cadet and Anxiety Magnet - or Logan and Virgil as he was now painfully aware - gathered up the fallen books and left together to go be happy and in love. While Remy could only watch as they did so.

Fantastic. Well, at least he knew who his soulmate must be now. Who knew Dog Guy would be the top dog? Admittedly, Dog Guy was Remy’s last choice in a partner, but hey, after all the trouble he went to, he wasn’t about to argue with fate. Once Roman brought him his order - an iced, Ristretto, ten shot venti, with five pumps of vanilla, seven pumps of caramel, four packs of Splenda, and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top with “Prince Phillip” written on the cup this time - Remy made his way over to the lucky fellow.

“Excuse me, mind if I sit here?”, Remy asked as he approached the Dog Guy.

The man smiled warmly, “Oh, not at all, kiddo! Hope you don’t mind my dog or things might get ruff!“. The joke made Remy want to drive his head into the ground at mach speeds, but if they were soulmates, he’d learn to love it. Hopefully. Maybe.

“Like, no worries babes, your dog is totes cute.”, Remy noted the man’s cheerful smile. He sat down and offered his name, “I’m Remy, what about you?”.

“Ah, how rude of me! I’m Patton Fairchild! And this is Foster!”, he gestured to the collie, “It’s nice to meet you Remy!”. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad of a choice after all; he's bubbly, friendly, gentle, and Remy truly couldn’t deny the sexy lumberjack appeal.

“Likewise, though I hope I’m not intruding on anything here. Like, I don’t wanna take up your time if you’re here on a date or-”

“Goodness no, I’m not on a date! Don’t you worry, you’re not interrupting anything!”, he assured Remy.

“That’s good, I wouldn’t wanna get in the way of you and your soulmate, sweetie.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,”, Patton stated, sending Remy’s hopes soaring before they shattered on the marble floor, “I don’t have one. I mean, I love love and all that, but I never much felt the lure of it myself!”

God. Fucking. Dammit.

Remy’s face fell. None of them were his soulmate. He stayed to talk to Dog Guy- Patton for a while so as not to make the poor guy feel awkward, then watched him leave. Another failure with not enough time left to find his soulmate. Remy sat alone, sipping the dregs of his order. He ignored the constant texts from the office as he stayed til near closing time. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not paid attention when his timer hit zero? Maybe he deserved this; to be miserable and alone for his negligence. His soulmate probably wasn’t even missing him either. Or maybe they were and now they couldn’t find him-

“Mind if I sit here?”

Remy rolled his head towards Roman, taking in the sweet sympathy pouring from his rather lovely smile. In his hand he held a to-go cup and his work apron was replaced with a red and white letterman jacket. Great, now he was keeping the charming barista from going home. But when had Remy ever cared about not being selfish?

“Sure, take a fuckin’ seat, babes.“, he groaned, no longer caring about keeping up the facade of being more put together than he really was. Roman sat down with a concerned gaze and slowly slid the drink over to Remy.

“It’s green tea. It’s a little less extravagant than your usual tastes, but it’s good for relieving stress..”

Roman encouragingly tapped the cup lid, smiling contagiously, “And something tells me the Evil Queen has some tension she needs to release.”

Remy gave a slightly bitter laugh as he looked up from playing eye-contact-chicken with the table and noted the green tea read “Maleficent”. God, this guy’s such a dork.

“It’s more than just some tension, sweetie,”, Remy began, inhaling sharply as he sat up, “I’ve just realised I’m never going to find my soulmate. I was stupid. I wasn’t thinking and the moment I looked away, I missed him.”. The half-snort he gave came out so much more painful than intended, “I let my timer hit zero, babes, and now it’s almost been a full week. My last three chances just walked out the goddamn door. Two of them as fucking soulmates, Roman! How unfair is that?-”

Roman’s expression gave him pause. It wasn’t the sympathetic expression from before, more like he was seeing Remy for the first time. Like he’d made a cosmic realisation that was about to change his life.

“Your timer… when did yours stop exactly?”, he asked. The wording gave Remy pause as he realised.

He hadn’t accounted for Roman. How could he have been so blind? Perhaps he couldn’t believe the charming barista could be the one. Perhaps he thought the man who smiled genuinely at him every day while he whittled down potential soulmates and greeted him with only the kindest of regards was too good for someone like him.

“It… stopped on Wednesday-”

“Around 2:15 pm? During the lunchtime rush?!”, Roman cut in excitedly. Remy was aghast as Roman pulled back the wrist of his letterman and revealed a stopped timer about as faded as Remy’s. With no hesitation, anticipation growing, Roman gently reached for Remy’s hand, which the latter offered enthusiastically. To their mutual delight, their timers disappeared, proving that they were indeed soulmates.

Both were stunned, Roman’s expression wildly happy, his brown eyes sparkling with equal elation and adoration. As Remy took in his gorgeous tanned skin, beautiful mocha hair, and that wonderful chiseled face he had the growing urge to caress and litter with kisses, all he could say in the moment was,

“Does this mean you’ll finally spell my fucking name right?”

This one was so much fun to write! I think this is the one piece of writing where I mostly nailed Remy’s character, so I hope this one does well TTvTT @tsshipmonth2020

#tsshipmonth2020 #roman sanders #remy sanders #sleep sanders #rosleep #soulmate september #coffee shop au #basically #fanfics #my fics #sleepingbeauty #thats the other name for the ship right #otherwise i put all the sleeping beauty references in there for nothing #anyway i really like this one ehe

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lonelypond · 3 years ago

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BETWEEN US

NicoMaki, Love Live, 3.6K, 1/1

Summary: Nishikino Maki and Yazawa Nico have many challenges ahead, but they get through them together.

Between Us

Is this what love is? Not a fire that bites painfully but two people laying so close to feel every breath, hands nearly touching, eyes on the brilliant stars opening themselves up suddenly, sure enough to share truths they speak into the night, this solitary space, this private moment between them.

Nishikino Maki spoke first, always the more impatient, curious about Yazawa Nico’s state of mind. “What do you want to do, Nico-chan?”

“Nico wants to show everyone that little and cute can be strong, sexy smart, talented, funny, hard working, successful….I’m tired of how the world treats cute girls like Nico. Nico is a star.” Nico flung her arms out, to encompass the sky. “They should be in awe.”

I am, Maki said to herself, and then thought, why not say it out loud. This was all new, why not be bolder.

“I am.”

Nico squeezed Maki’s hand, a reward for honesty. “What do you want to do, Maki-chan?”

No one said Maki’s name like Nico. It had been Maki’s anchor through the continuing craziness of Muse, Eli’s taskmaster torture, qualifying, Honoka’s collapse, then starting over, right as they discovered these new feelings, a gift from all they’d been through.

“I want to use the Nishikino fortune for new things, good things, to stop propping up out dated ways and awful people. I want to find new ways to help…” Maki was a person of specifics and she had a list. “Girls, gays, empaths, people fighting bigotry, neurodivergents, water protectors,” Maki thought of Rin and giggled, “furries, us, our friends, the world.”

“Maki-chan will do great things.”

“Once I’m 30.”

Nico Yazawa considered. This was so new and 14 years from now, when Maki was a doctor and her trust vested, seemed as distant as the nearest star Nico could see. But Nico knew naming goals was the first step to achieving them, even if it seemed a wild fantasy.

“Nico will be there.” Not flashy, just quiet determination.

Nico heard Maki gulp. She was probably tearing up and couldn’t speak. Nico didn’t really expect her too. Sharing was such a new trust. But Maki’s hand carefully kept precise palm to palm contact with Nico’s. That said everything.

“Marry Nico.”

Maki sighed. “No one can know.”

“Okay.”

YAZAWA NICO FINISHES FIRST INTERNATIONAL TOUR WITH SPRING SPLASH IN HONOLULU

NISHIKINO MAKI BEGINS RONIN YEAR SOLO WORLD TOUR SURFING IN MAUI

Sunrise. Quiet beach. Her own choices. Is this what contentment felt like, Maki wondered. Finally, moments of quiet to listen for the important things. Leaning against her duffle and board, dressed in a striped rash guard, bright lavender board shorts, and a faded denim “You Are On Native Land” cap, Maki stretched, watching the horizon as a lone speck appeared in the distance, jogging toward her, not actually growing much as the distance closed, Maki thought with a private grin. Nico, running in an oversized hoodie and bikini bottom, gasped dramatically, reaching a hand for the water bottle Maki held out as a lure.

“Still running 5Ks every morning?”

“10K when I don’t have a concert or rehearsal. Nico is a boss.”

“Umi would be proud.”

Nico dropped and did ten fast pushups in the sand next to Maki, “Not if Nico told her it was only to make girls swoon.”

“Girls?” Maki arched an eyebrow, hand sweeping through her hair.

“Girl.”

“Fiancee.”

Nico laughed, rolling toward Maki, pulling her down into a playful, sandy kiss. “Ready to upgrade to trophy wife?”

“Yes.”

But there was no hurry that morning. Both had put their other lives on multiple 15 plus hour flights and fallen briefly off the grid to sit side by side on this hidden beach, the tide surging, a rare treasured morning to share.

“Went to the symphony last night. Monica Mancini sang, Henry Mancini’s daughter,” Nico hummed the Pink Panther theme, “Nice voice, more your thing than Nico’s though. She sang a lot of Johnny Mercer. And some new stuff. Nico was taking notes.”

“You’re great on stage Nico-chan, but I guess you can always learn from other performers.”

“Nico is learning songwriting.”

Maki pushed against Nico, “Going to try to get me to put Nico Nico Ni to music again.”

Nico’s mood turned serious, “I miss watching you play.”

“I miss playing.”

“When Nico gets her penthouse, there will be a baby grand.” Nico let her hand settle on Maki’s, “Working with a portable keyboard now. And Umi’s giving me advice, so many books...I’m so busy reading, there’s no time to party.”

“Good.”

“Hey, do you have any plans tomorrow night?”

Nico stared at Maki for a moment, but there was only earnestness in the amethyst staring back, “Not since you got here.”

“I’ve been talking with some of the elders, volunteering on Maui, learning about healing plants, and aloha ‘āina.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s really cool. I’m going to get Papa to invite some of the teachers and doctors I’ve met to give seminars for us. Aloha ‘āina means so many things, but it’s mostly being determined to take care of each other by taking care of the land. It’s very land based and tradition based, here in Hawai’i,” Maki picked up a handful of sand, “but it’s caring and not soft...exactly...when you meet Kai, he’ll explain it better. We’ve been invited for dinner, his uncle plays the ohe hano ihu.”

“What’s that?”

“ A nose flute, not for big concerts, more personal...Kai says his uncle has so many stories about it being used in courting rituals.”

“Is Maki-chan taking notes?”

“Maybe.” Ah, Maki’s sexy, best musician in the world grin. Nico missed that one a lot on the road. A killer cute band was no replacement for the brilliant, lovely pianist who’d so boldly wrapped Nico’s heart in music.

They were in the teasing phase now. “Do you have to keep courting a cute girl after marriage?”

Maki shoved into Nico again, “Well, duh…”

Joint laughter, rolling out to meet the tide.

“We’re getting married.” Maki said quietly.

“Just need to take our passports to pick up the license and go to the shrine. We filled out everything else online.” Nico glanced at her bare legs, “And Nico brought a kimono. Although Maki-chan looks sporty cute just like she is.”

Maki had a far off look, not paying much attention to Nico. Happy to wait ‘til Maki drifted back to the beach, Nico was going to enjoy memorizing her favorite scenery, Maki’s beautifully expressive face, now relaxed and open, thoughts waves and clouds in constant motion. Nico knew the solitude here allowed Maki to relax, there was no family pressure, their phones were off, nothing on either of their schedules for at least the rest of the week. A rare moment to sit with each other, sharing this beauty.

NISHIKINO REAL ESTATE GROUP BUYS LARGE LUXURY TOWER NEAR NISHIKINO MEDICAL CENTER

SUPERSTAR REFUSES TO GIVE UP PENTHOUSE APARTMENT TO NISHIKINO HEIR

Fast food. School girls lingering from Otonokizaka. Two people shoved into the booth furthest from the door and windows, sitting on the same bench, hip to hip, back to the rest of the room.

“So many memories in this place.” Nico unwrapped her burger.

“So many french fries.” Maki dipped a sample french fry in her chocolate milkshake.

“Another meal Nico paid for. You got rich not paying for food.”

“Hey! You were too proud to let me pay.”

“Nico is still too proud.” Nico tapped her fingers on the table. This late afternoon, for this clandestine meeting, they’d allowed themselves the indulgence of wearing their braided gold and platinum wedding band, Maki added the simple diamond Nico had bought her for their engagement.

“Is this going to work? Us actually living this close together without rumors starting?” Maki had been worrying. So many comments in the press and on social media.

“Everyone already has us at war. Nico’s a selfish poser, Maki’s a spoiled brat. Enemies to lovers.”

“Not funny, Nico-chan.”

“Nico will throw a huge party before I leave on my next tour. My new landlord will threaten very publically to throw me out of the building. Everything will flare up, but Maki-chan will continue to do boring future doctor things and by the time Nico gets back, all anyone will be talking about is Nico’s new album.”

“They’re not boring future doctor things.”

“No, they’re smart, saving the world future doctor things and Nico is so proud.” A quick kiss on Maki’s palm.

“Meanwhile…”

“Meanwhile, Umi and Eli install a secret hatch above the decorative staircase centerpiece of your expensively designed main room.”

“I’m going to miss you, Nico-chan.” Sadness.

Time to change the mood. Nico dipped a french fry in her strawberry shake and fed it to Maki. “How’s studying going?”

Maki leaned, chin in hand, frowny. “I could be more motivated.”

“So B?”

“A minus.”

“Nerd.”

“ ‘s dull." Maki said, chewing slowly. "But have to stay on track with the family benchmarks.”

“Yeah.” Nico decided to talk about happier things, “ooohh, did I tell you Eli’s setting up a foundation for Nico as her graduation project. We’ve already donated tickets to queer youth groups in every city on the tour and Nozomi’s setting up mentor programs.”

“Expect a large anonymous donation.”

“Expect a large not so anonymous thank you.”

“I’m just proud that you’re doing things to actually help people. I want to do more.”

“You’re studying to be a doctor, Maki-chan. That’s hard. Nico’s got it easy. All Nico has to do is” Nico went into her signature gesture, “Nico Nico Ni and everything gets brighter.” Nico suddenly remembered she shouldn’t have let her catch phrase out full voice during what was supposed to be a secret meeting, but this was a low traffic period so no one seemed to notice.

“I couldn’t get that out of my head, the first time I saw you do it. It was annoying.”

“But you loved Nico.” Nico snuggled closer, enjoying a chance to feel Maki next to her.

“But I loved Nico, all of Nico, the bold, brash, terrible liar, the kind, caring sister, the determined ally and friend, the hard working and talented performer.”

“Nico wasn’t a liar, Nico was an optimist.”

“Private chef,” Maki cough giggled.

Nico grabbed the french fries as Maki reached for another one, “Confiscated for cheekiness.”

“Give me those.” Maki grabbed, Nico dodged, french fries flew loose and they giggled their way through the next few minutes until Nico leaned forward to whisper in Maki’s ear.

“So are your parents still in New York City?”

Gulping, suddenly completely flustered, Maki nodded.

Nico bounced up, offering a gallant hand, “Nico will walk you home.”

“Fancy.”

“Only the best for Mrs. Yazawa.”

“That would be Mrs. Nishikino.”

“We’ll wrestle. Nico will win.”

“Optimist.”

Nico’s hand on Maki’s waist was a gentle guide into the autumn night, two hats pulled down, two collars pulled up, Nico in a mask to protect her voice. “Wait and see.”

Maki leaned into Nico. This night, unlike too many others recently, felt just right.

HEAD OF THE NISHIKINO MEDICAL GROUP COLLAPSES, HOSPITALIZED

NICO NI NEW YEAR’S CHARITY CONCERT SELLS OUT IN MINUTES

Nico had never been so sick. She’d lost count of the medicines she was taking to sleep at night, and then the additional ones added to get her through tonight’s concert. Then she could rest. Go to her Mama’s house and get babied for a bit. Maki had been so sad at Christmas, with too many family obligations to fly to Los Angeles. Nico had gotten through their Christmas Eve quick chat and then collapsed, barely moving until yesterday’s rehearsal, which wiped her out.

Pounding on her hotel room door. What the hell? Phone pinged, the Maki-tone.

“Open your door, Nico--chan.” Maki sounded angry. Was she pounding? Nico felt even fuzzier, slumping to the door, opening it to fall against a tall, angry Maki, beanie over her hair, sunglasses, and a mask.

“Nico-chan?” Now Maki’s voice sounded tearful.

“Hi, Mrs. Yazawa.” Nico croaked out, hoping to make Maki at least giggle.

Strong arms swept her up, Maki striding across the room, putting Nico gently down on the bed, Maki immediately examining every bottle by Nico’s bedside, “What kind of quack put you on all this?”

“Don’t know.”

“Don’t know? You don’t know.”

“Trainer found ‘em…recommended.”

“You should be in a hospital.” Maki’s voice broke.

“Concert, charity, millions. Nico Nico Ni.” Nico had no idea if what she was saying made sense.

“Cancel. Refund. I’ll make a bigger donation.”

“Nico is a trooper.”

“Nico is a zombie. What the hell kind of irresponsible moron gave you all this?” Maki crashed all the bottles to the floor. “Did they inject you with anything?”

“It’s LA, Maki-chan, the beautiful people never stop.” Nico coughed. It hurt like 50 Umi arrows to the chest, “Nico is a beautiful people.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki was kneeling next to the bed, desperation and weariness lining her face. She’d never travelled well, Nico realized.

Nico managed to flip so she was on her side, managing to smile at Maki, “Hey pretty girl.”

“I am going to sue that quack into despair and destitution.”

Nico blinked, suddenly aware that Maki should be in Tokyo. “Why are you here, Maki-chan?.”

“Hanayo heard a rumor…”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I don’t care.” Maki’s head dropped to the bed, “Papa collapsed...and you’re like this and hiding it from me…and letting some greedy idiot try to kill you...if anything happens to you, Nico-chan…” And the tears, Nico could feel them as she reached for Maki, hot, heavy, rolling off pale cheeks.

“Nico will be fine.”

Maki shook her head.

“Look at me, Maki-chan.”

Maki raised her head. Her eyes were bright. She was always so bright, so caring, her native prickliness a fortification against all the emotions Maki didn’t know how to process.

“I will be fine.”

Maki surged up, her arms drawing in Nico, whose heart was really not rested enough for tackled into bed by the redhead of her dreams. “Maki-chan, you’re going to hug Nico to death.”

“Don’t say that.” Maki’s arm twitched for a minute like she was going to shove Nico away, but then Nico found herself pressed as closely as she’d ever been against a clothed Maki, which would have been amazing if she could breathe. So Nico let a cough out and Maki loosened her hold.

“Let Nico sleep.”

“Okay. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Nico had closed her eyes, muttering, “...love you.”

“I love you too, Nico-chan.”

A-RISE STEPS IN AT LAST MINUTE FOR NICO NI

NISHIKINO MAKI CHECKING OUT STANFORD RESEARCH FACILITIES, POSSIBLE PARTNERSHIP

Nico is officially spoiled. Another morning waking up to Maki curled up by her side...She’d shipped everyone else back to Japan, tour over, a solid break until Nico’s doctor cleared her for rehearsal. Nico sat up, teasing tumbles of red hair, Maki had been very clear that Nico had to clear the steroids out of her system first. But at least Maki hadn’t banned other forms of exercise.

“I’m not asleep, Nico-chan.” Maki mumbled, sounding totally still asleep.

“Thanks for coming to rescue Nico.”

“Don’t make me do it again. I might have to go back to school.”

“I thought you were joining the Board Of Directors ahead of schedule?”

Maki opened her eyes, stretching, “Order pancakes. And bacon. And orange juice. And muffins.”

“Brunch in bed.”

“I’m not leaving until I have to.”

Nico reached down to kiss Maki’s forehead, “It’s been nice having you here.”

“Then come home.”

“Nico is working on it.”

Maki raised an eyebrow. Nico sounded excited. “Is there something I don’t know about?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas surprise, but Nico’s agent was still negotiating.”

What could Nico’s agent be negotiating that would be a Christmas surprise for Maki?

“I’m going be the main character in a TV drama, based in Tokyo.”

“Really?”

“Really. I didn’t get to be there when your Dad ended up in the hospital and I’m so sorry…I knew you needed me, but...this is our life...” Maki nodded as Nico gestured at the hotel suite, continuing, “And I knew you were going to be super busy with family stuff so I pitched an idea and two production companies jumped on board. Nico is taking a paycut and ownership, but all you’ll have to do is come upstairs and Nico will be right there, at least for six months.”

“Nico-chan…” Maki sat up.

Nico put her arm and pulled Maki in, Maki dropping her head to Nico’s shoulder, “We get through the tough stuff together, Maki-chan. We always have. I love you.”

“Love you.” Maki was falling asleep again. Nico would add coffee to their brunch order. Maki had to be awake enough to sneak out and catch a plane.

YAZAWA NICO TO STAR IN DOCTOR SMILE

DOCTOR NISHIKINO MAKI TAKES OVER FAMILY MEDICAL PRACTICE

If she didn’t have Nico, Maki would probably just live with a grand piano, a huge bathtub, and a couch to eat take out on, Nico thought as she sank into lavender scented steaming water.

“It’s not funny, Rin. And I don’t need weekly updates about who Nico’s kissing on the show.” Maki sounded aggravated. Nico giggled. She’d come home early from a weekend meet the fans event and snuck into Maki’s luxury tub to recover. Candles were lit, Idol music popping.

“Wait a minute, Rin. I think…” Maki’s steps sounded hasty and she was suddenly in the door of the bathroom.

Nico winked. “Hi Maki!”

Maki made a grumbly noise and turned sideways, “No, I’m okay, Rin. There’s just a surprise in my bathtub…” Maki glanced at Nico, “Rin says hi. And you have to stop using my cases, Nico-chan.”

“Did Rin say that? And who says Nico does?”

Maki glared, “Where do you even get your information?”

Nico raised a finger to her lips and winked.

“And that red wig. It’s awful. People think you’re making fun of me.” Maki listened to her phone. “Shut up, Rin.” And the phone went in her coat pocket.

“What did Rin say?”

“Nvermind.” Maki muttered.

“Maki-chan…” Nico splashed at Maki.

“No one would ever call me Dr. Smile.”

Nico guffawed, slapping water everywhere. “I miss Rin.”

“If I had Umi’s bow, I wouldn’t.”

“You love her.” Nico leaned back, watching her wife, who had flopped on the nearby chaise. “So who thinks Nico is making fun of you?”

“Papa.”

“PFfffffff…who cares.”

Maki glared, ‘“We’re trying to keep his stress levels low.”

“Red headed doctors are the best.”

“But I like your hair; it looks like you.”

“But our daughter will look like Dr. Smile.”

That threw Maki’s train of thought completely askew. The closest she could get was imagining Cotaro when she first met him with bright red hair.

“I wonder if our children will look like you? All your siblings do.”

“And they’re cute. But our children will be NicoMaki cute. I’ve seen your baby pictures, you were adorable.” Nico leaned back, smiling up at Maki. “Nico can’t wait to have a family to come home to.”

“You have me.”

“And I love it.” Nico blew lavender scented bubbles at Maki, “But you, me, the cutest children ever in the universe, and Christmas morning.”

Maki couldn’t keep the huge grin back. “I can tell them all about Santa-san.”

“But we’re not spoiling them too much.”

Maki pouted at Nico.

Nico giggled, “That’s what our parents will do.”

Maki got up, taking off her coat, sliding out of her jacket, unbuttoning her shirt halfway and slipping out of her pants. Then she sat on the edge of the tub, feet in the water, toes teasing Nico’s legs. “You’re going to tour less, right.”

“Nico’s not touring now. You’re going to cut down your hours, right, Maki-chan.”

“Just started the search for an Executive Director. And put the LGBTQ+ Health Centers proposal on the fast track.”

Nico leaned over, her chin on Maki’s thigh, “We’ve worked really hard for this.”

“We have.”

“I think Mama knows.”

Maki laughed, “It was that morning she surprised us at breakfast, wasn’t it?”

For once, Nico was the one blushing. “Nico needs…” Nico’s arm slipped under Maki’s shirt, a casual touch on Maki’s back, “more elegant pajamas for entertaining company.”

“No you don’t.”

“You like it when Nico borrows your shirt.”

“No, I love it when Nico-chan borrows my shirt.”

“Nico loves your pajamas.” Nico’s fingers started tracing patterns.

“Ha!” Keeping her cool with Nico this close had always been impossible so Maki just lowered herself into the water, pausing for a messy, wet kiss, “Let’s skip dinner.”

NISHIKINO MAKI AND YAZAWA NICO: DETAILS OF THEIR WHIRLWIND COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE

The interviewer leaned forward as Maki ran a hand through her hair. She was relaxed in a light gray Tadashi Shoji corded lace sheath dress, and confidently answered her question, “It was a long day, my eyes were so tired everything was blurry and I got in the wrong elevator. Nico had just gotten pics of the Ayase twins and we started talking about high school.”

“Talking?” Nico snorted, standing behind Maki, hands in the pockets of bright pink Victoria Beckham trousers, the matching blazer falling open, “It was all Nico’s sex appeal. Nico is irresistible.”

Maki leaned her head back, a private smile for Nico, “Nico is irresistible.”

“Is it irresponsible to take so much time off from your responsibilities to take a world tour honeymoon and then start a family?”

Nico chuckled, her hands on Maki’s shoulder, “We’ve planned carefully. And they’re our businesses. Nico never understood people working themselves to death, not taking time for family. We want to change corporate culture.”

“You’ve always been ambitious, Nico. What’s your next project?”

Nico winked, “That’s just between us.”

“No hints for our viewers, Maki?”

Nico leaned down, arms around Maki’s shoulders, whispering something in her ear. Maki’s full, flaring blush could have been a picture from high school. The interviewer laughed.

“Nice to see you two worked out the Penthouse Wars.”

“Nico is a reasonable person.”

Maki threw back her head, laughing, “Sure, that’s why.”

“Well, Nico is certainly a top…”

“Nico-chan!”

“I love you, Maki-chan.” Giggling, Nico kissed her wife’s cheek.

Nico might have been the only one to hear Maki’s muttered, “I love you, Nico-chan.” But it had always been true.

A/N: Another AU Yeah August request, it started out as Married Rivals, but I was reading a Dolly Parton songwriting book and in the songs about love chapter there were these lyrics from "Between Us":

In our love let's share a friendship between us Always close enough to talk things out Let's be honest with ourselves and each other And our love will never know mistrust or doubt

So I just started writing conversations.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #married #married life #fluff #minor illness and angst #au yeah august

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veridium · 5 years ago

Text

miss independent

COLLEGE AU DISASTER COMING IN HOT

I want to say that this chapter, even though relatively short and to the point, is a very important one in terms of content for me. Based on a lot of my experiences being a young queer person in activist/”social justice” spaces, and the ways in which people use those spaces for their own needs. This is all a eloquent way of me saying: gay drama, it sucks, and it’s real. The community isn’t a utopia!

So, uh, enjoy!

fic masterpost // last chapter

-- Theia The Gayuh: Hey

Read 8:04am

-- Theia The Gayuh: Can we talk, please?

Read 8:13am.

-- Theia The Gayuh: You turned on your read receipts just for this, didn’t you.

Message Delivered.

She sends the messages Tuesday morning, and Liv can’t decide whether she’s angry or thankful she’s left her alone for 48 entire hours. Usually they can’t stand to be upset with each other more than the length of one L Word episode. Oh how the turn tables.

Eventually, though, she does respond. After a whole day of classes, texting Cassandra about everything but the fact that Theia reached out, and seeing Ellinor in passing, walking hand-in-hand with Cullen. She’s glad they worked things out for now -- now being a day-by-day, sometimes even hour-by-hour kind of thing. They survived the first party saga of their respective relationships, and now she sympathizes with Cassandra’s desire for peace and discipline more than ever. Besides, it’s getting to be crunch time in the semester. They should be calming down.

Olivia: Meet me at Johnny’s at 6, then. I can’t stay long. I have to study.

Read 3:17pm.

-- Theia The Gayuh: Sounds good. Thank you.

If she scrolls up just a bit, she can find their last messages from before the war. Memes from gay instagram accounts, short threats of disownment and other heartfelt jokes. It’s not right being on the outs with her, but what can she do? She’s still angry, and that isn’t saying much. Olivia can be angry for years if she deems it necessary.

She touches base with Ellinor, the other half of her brain, before she shows her face at the pizza place they agreed to meet.

-- Ellinor: I don’t know, dude. Maybe she wants to apologize?

Olivia: I hope so because if it’s just more bullshit I’m going to be so mad.

-- Ellinor: Cullen says to hit her with the crushed peppers if she fucks up.

Olivia: 👀

-- Ellinor: Okay I said it

-- Ellinor: He says hope it works out. I said that was boring.

Olivia: Be nice!!

Before she locks her phone she looks back on the last messages Cassandra and her sent to each other from hours prior. They’re perfectly nice and sweet, not paragraph length like they used to be. The more they get to know each other the shorter the answers become and the less stressful it is to come up with what to say. She puts the car in park and turns the key, making one last wish that she won’t have to lose a friendship just so she can have a relationship.

Johnny’s is one of the most college-town holes in the wall there is. But, to be fair, their pizza is also the best in town -- or so Theia and Olivia swear every time they show up for the last by-the-slice orders at 1am. Now, in the socially acceptable hour of dinner for regular people, she’s reliving all the hazy memories when she walks in and sees Theia sitting back at a corner table along the wall, scrolling her own phone.

Ugh. Fuck.

She looks up and sees Liv standing like a scarecrow, and doesn’t smile. She just sits up and takes an anxious breath by the looks of it. Olivia tucks her head and walks over before it becomes a standoff in an old Western film.

“Hey.” Theia says it first as Olivia drops her keys and wallet on the table. She does a subtle head nod in reply and takes her seat. That is more than enough.

“Are you...how are you?”

The sound of her voice is enraging still. Its sobriety and measured diplomacy, too. Where was it when she needed it? When Cassandra would have benefited from it? Oh, that’s right, drowned in a gallon of rum and bud lite.

“I’m good. You?”

“Good.”

She holds back a glare. She shouldn’t be good. She should be far from good. But when she looks up, Theia’s face says as much.

“I...I thought it would be better if--”

“H-how is Josephine?’

Theia gives her a confused look, hands sliding back and into her lap. “Uh...she’s...good. You haven’t been in touch with her?”

“Not since Saturday. I was planning on texting her.”

“Oh. Uh, cool. Yeah, you should do that.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward pause, part one, hits. Olivia’s eyes wander around the place, to the chalkboard signs with the beer tap menu, to the awkward high school-aged boy behind the counter re-folding takeout menus. Man, he still does not look a day over 15 with that haircut.

“Liv.” Theia says it in a ‘let’s cut the crap’ kind of way, but she’s not ready to follow along. But she also can’t divert attention anymore so she keeps her mouth shut.

“Liv, come on.”

“Hm?” she offers, and locks eyes with her. It’s then she notices the coca-cola cup of water and ice she has in her hand, straw by her mouth.

“I know you’re mad at me.”

“Uh…” Olivia can’t hold it back anymore. This baiting and subtle nod to the issue is aggravating her bullshit meter. She smiles with impatience and shakes her head. “Uh, it’s not that I’m mad at you, Theia. It’s that you fucked up.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because you seem to be chilling with your ice water.”

“Ah.” Theia sighs, and sets down her cup. “So that’s how this is gonna go.”

So this is how this is gonna go? Ugh, she was right. It’s gonna be more bullshit. Not just the apology and explanation she deserves. No offer to apologize to Cassandra directly. No accountability. Why the fuck did she make this plan? Theia is never going to--

“Look, I know what I did was immature. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? What about Cass? You went full Mean Girls on her. If anyone should be here getting an apology, it’s her.”

“As long as I get one for the hours I spent talking to you and texting you about her when she was pulling her bullshit.”

“That’s not how that works!”

“Well it should!”

“Uh, hey.” From above both their steaming heads, the boy from the counter interrupted, standing like a beanpole with two menus in his hand. He eyed them both with a look not unlike the way the little girl in the movie Matilda looks at Ms. Trunchbull, and sets them down between them. Olivia blinks away her hostility as best she can, but Theia just rolls her eyes and looks away. Classy.

“Thanks,” Liv says, but the boy is already halfway back to the counter. Talk about a way of saying ‘please hurry up with things so you can leave sooner.’

Theia sighs with dread and takes her menu, thumb pressing a corner bend as she stares at the lines of words. Olivia keeps hers flat on the table and retracts her hands, peering over it like a child. Maybe she should pull out a magnifying glass and also search for a will to live.

“I just don’t get what you see in her.” Suddenly, Theia sets down the menu and folds her arms. She’s really ready to be completely obliterated.

Olivia perks up fast, outrage in her posture as her mouth goes open wide. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Theia?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like. I don’t get it. I didn’t get it in the beginning, I didn’t get it at the party, and I still don’t.”

“If you don’t get it, fine. You aren’t in the relationship.”

“It’s not that, Liv. You have always been a certain kind of person, and you have always been outspoken about what it means to be queer. You deserve someone who is as passionate about it as you, who won’t...like, I don’t know. Gentrify it.”

“Gentrify it?!”

The boy came back again. This time with a notepad and pen. Behind him an older man was peeking out from the window into the kitchen looking as if he had bribed him to return.

“I, uh…” Theia said, still mad as she nearly tossed him the menu. “I’ll have the Hawaiian personal, please.”

“Chill,” he replied, sliding the menu under his arm. Then he looked at Liv, one eye twitching a bit narrower than the other. What, was something on her face?

“I’ll have a Margarita. Medium, please...” she looks at Theia when she bends her brow. “I’m bringing back some for Ellinor. I owe her for stealing five of her easy-macs.”

She hands the menu back because the guy looks like he’s being held hostage, releasing him back into the wild. After that she folds her arms and rests them on the table, leaning onto the table.

“Oh. I thought…”

“You thought I was bringing some for Cassandra? What, that she’s waiting outside with sunglasses on and a sniper in case things go bad?”

Theia bites the corner of her mouth and looks away. Her fingers twist together as she takes in the wall painting hanging next to them of the old river bridge just past downtown. College town shops always decorated with images you could see by virtue of a 5 minute walk in any direction. As if it heightened the experience or the pride in a bridge of all things.

“You give her too little credit.”

Theia snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, asshole?” Olivia tilted her head, countering her feistiness. “You know nothing about her.”

“No one does! So she’s gay now. That mean she’s going to stop hanging out with those sexist, stalking assholes in her Bible study? The ones who campaigned for Prop 13 last year?”

“I never saw her out there with them!”

“It doesn’t matter, Liv! She still wasn’t against them!”

“You don’t know that!”

Theia scooted back in her chair but didn’t get up. She rolled her eyes so hard her head went with them, and she locked them on one of the tv’s on the opposite side of the room. Sports, or something, playing on the screen. Olivia stayed where she was, in the exact shape she was, though her flight or fight instinct trampled her willingness to stick around. This was the complete opposite of how she always wanted it to go, of how she always thought it would be. Her life had become a Dr. Phil special where the envious best friend was sat across from the happy but plain looking married couple, begging the best friend to stop egging their cars.

“Is she out to her family?”

Olivia scoffed. “Theia, you’re gatekeeping again.”

“I’m not, I just asked a question,” she corrected, looking back down at her.

“I...I dunno.”

“Really?”

“Probably not. She just came to the conclusion herself. I don’t think she’s had the time or reason to. Not until...well, I don’t know.” She grabbed the straw wrapper leftover from Theia’s drink and began playing with it.

“Pfft. Gotcha.”

“That doesn’t matter, though. Why should it? So she can be the “correct” form of real?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. You know what I’m worried about. The same reason you were concerned when Josie and I got together. The thing you saw fit to bring up that night, in public, in front of everyone. Remember how not-whispery your tipsy whispering is?”

Shit. She hadn’t thought about it like that. At the time, it was an empowering speech-and-run that she made to expel her rage. The kind of tell-off everyone dreams of giving when faced with someone’s traitorous actions. She hadn’t taken into account the volume, or the environment -- had Josephine heard her? Had other people? Oh God, that might have been completely humiliating…

Theia watched her, and shook her head. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, and yes, she does know what you said.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that was a wonderful fight to have at 3am. Thanks for that.”

“Theia, I--”

“Whatever, Liv. You know what I mean when I ask if she’s out. It’s different when we’re kids, when we’re poor...it’s not like that with you. You’re both adults, and she’s rich. What’s stopping her from doing what all those Beauty Queens do making out with our friends in the dive bars then running off to Mommy and Daddy’s house in the Dales?”

“She’s not rich, her fa--”

“Liv.”

Ugh, fuck. She rested back on her chair and ripped the wrapper in two. She caught her on something she would say was bullshit in any other context, and she hated her for it. Wealth wasn’t an individualistic thing, it wasn’t some easily-excluded condition. That was well-evidenced by her continued compliance with her Mom’s antics if it meant getting her tuition bills paid and health insurance secured.

“You’re still being disrespectful and showing your privilege. It doesn’t matter the age of when someone comes out, it’s still difficult and uncomfortable. The fact that she is doing it, and doing it with someone in her life, is brave. And she and her family aren’t white. Neither are Josie’s. We won’t ever know what it’s like to do what they do. Money or no money.” If only you knew what she’s gone through, what she struggles with. Shit, if only *I* knew.

“Ugh, you sound like those women’s studies harpies with all the buzz words.”

“I sound like a compassionate human being. You would do well to try it sometime.”

Theia slurped her water, visibly calmer than she was at the start. Perhaps a little too calm. Her heart was in the right place, if only she would admit she was just feeling protective and possessive of her best friend. Instead she was dunking and deep-frying her concern in narrow-minded visibility politics. Olivia flicked the ball of remaining wrapper onto the table, giving up on it as a plaything. She was looking at the person who helped her come to terms with her sexuality, the person who listened to her cry in the middle of the night after she’d have another fight with her Mom about wanting to cut her hair or have a pride flag in her room when she’d come home in the summer. They had gone through so much, and she wants to hold onto it with the hope that if she can change, Theia can, too.

“Well. I guess I’ll be wishing for her to prove me wrong, then,” Theia allows, shrugging her broad lesbian shoulders with her broad lesbian skepticism. This isn’t the last of it, and she isn’t convinced in the slightest. By the looks of it -- and by the knowledge Olivia has in 2 years of friendship -- she’s choosing not to pick the battle anymore. Relieving, but only to an extent.

“Thanks, I guess. I still think you owe her an apology.”

“Fat chance.”

“Theia.” Olivia notices pizzas being brought out of the kitchen. Perfect fucking timing evaded them this far, why would it start now? “Apologize to her or I won’t let this go.”

“Oh come on.”

“I mean it--” she interrupts herself as the guy approached with Theia’s order and two pizza stands. She’ll have to wait until he’d do the second trip for her own meal. It felt like an hour, their stiff staring down of one another while Chad-Kevin-Trevor-whoever did his thing. Poor dude, he was annoying but he would get a good tip. No one wants to be at the mercy of gay drama. When at last everything was served, and the guy got out with his life, she pulled napkins from the dispenser and continued.

“I’m not going to apologize to someone who proves me right the next day. I’m just not going to have her put a rift between us.”

“You have no faith in her and you don’t even know her!” Her put a rift between us? Her?

“I have seen this happen too many times in this town to blink it away, Liv. I’m not going to watch it happen to you and pretend it’s some big surprise.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Theia chews away, dropping her slice down on the plate. Her greasy hands ate up the napkin she used to clean them off, finger by finger. “I can’t stop you from dating her. But you can’t stop me from having my gut feelings.”

Oh, fuck all.

After a tense pause, Olivia grabbed the infamous crushed peppers and generously sprinkled them onto her own meal. “You know, maybe it’s for the better. If she were here she’d say she wouldn’t want your apology unless it was sincere. Which, obviously it isn’t, because you are an asshole.”

“Psh. Fine, say it’s that. All I know is I don’t say sorry unless actions prove it warranted. And I trust you enough not to do that thing everyone does when they get together.”

You mean U-Haul and crawl up each other’s assholes never to see anyone else again. Cool, that’ll be fun to attempt, considering I intend to keep you two as far away from each other as humanly possible. For my sake, and hers. Olivia took a large bite into her first steaming slice and, as always, immediately squirmed.

“H-h-haw--”

“God dammit, Liv,” Theia grinned and slid her water to her side, which Olivia took and gulped from the rim. Fuck the straw.

“Gah,” she gasps, and slammed it down. “I’m such a dumbass.”

She met her glance, mouth lined with sauce and balsamic. Theia’s playful expression is her weakness. She chuckles for the first time all afternoon, pressing a crinkled up napkin to her mouth as she did so. Theia follows suit, leaning back and running her fingers through her down-and-tousled hair. She mutters a curse under her breath. It’s like opening a can of soda and letting the carbonation finally release.

“Ugh, Liv, you’re always going to be my girl.” She reaches for the parmesean shaker and began dousing her pizza in it. A Hawaiian pizza with parmesean sounds disgusting, but the way she ogles it with hungry eyes, you’d swear it was the most delicious thing to ever be invented.

Her statement though. Her statement makes Olivia’s heart creak. She wants so badly to nod and smile, fully believing in it as she always had. But the truth is -- and she hated herself for it -- the entire time she sits there she’s missing Cassandra. Missing her, the way she talks, the way she laughs when she had a mouth full of food.

She watches Theia take her first cooled-down and thus safe bite, and for that split second she lets her inner frown weigh on her face.

The pizza isn’t for Ellinor, she confesses in her thoughts, one which she wishes to say out loud. But everything said not to. Everything said it wasn’t safe. And for that, she is at a loss.

“Well, fuck her.”

Ellinor, having stolen a slice of the leftovers, thus proving Olivia’s fib somewhat obsolete, is adamant. Cross-legged in old basketball shorts and a tank with flannel on (peak pajamas aesthetic). All the while Olivia paces with a textbook in hand, trying to work out the anxious energy while also getting work done. A futile endeavor, a tale as old as time.

“Ellinor, please.”

“Nah, fuck her. She knows what she did was fucked up!” said with a mouthful of margarita goodness. She gulps it down and then burps like a truck driver twice her age. Olivia has to giggle.

“Ahh, fuck, this hits the spot. What was I saying? Oh, yeah, fu--”

“I get it, okay!” Olivia shut the book and tossed it onto her desk. Huffing with indignation. What bright idea did she have thinking she could just be friends with so many opinionated and crass women? Oho, feminism, blah blah blah, women’s empowerment, blah blah, empowered women empower women, blah blah BLAH.

“Well. Then what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to proceed as planned. Theia doesn’t feed me or pay my bills. Her opinion is purely arbitrary.”

“Uh huh, so that’s why you’re creating rubber burn marks on your carpet.”

“What?!” Olivia squeaked, looking back behind her bare feet. Oh, good one, Ellinor.

“Liv.”

“Oh stop it! I’m doing my best. Theia is one of my first and truest friends. She’s the only one I’ve known as long as you.”

Ellinor slouched and scowled with bitchy apathy -- a talent she knew best. Sliding herself off her friend’s bed, she put her hands on her hips and stood toe-to-toe with her.

“Yeah, Liv, and only one of us isn’t being a dick about something that’s making you happy.”

Olivia frowns and slides her hands into her hoodie pocket. “It’s...it’s not the same. It’s different in the community versus out. I can’t--”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Ellinor…”

Ellinor dragged her feet as she headed towards the door. “Last I checked, Liv, there isn’t a Hayley Kiyoko song about being gay meaning you get to step over boundaries like they’re hopscotch squares!”

“Ell--”

“Nah-ah!” she yelled, sliding in through the door’s narrow opening. Her finger went up in the air as she lingered. “I can cite sources, too, Ruth Gay-der Ginsburg!”

“...I hate you.”

From the hall, the same sarcastic voice echoed: “LOVE YOU TOO!”

She’s going to be saying that for the rest of the week. Fantastic. Olivia resigned herself and fell back on her bed, hands across her stomach as she wished to be anywhere else but there. She had always swore she would tape stars and planets to her ceiling but never got around to it. Truth was she wasn’t tall enough to reach, and Ellinor has no advantage in that department, either. But...she could ask Cassandra. She could do that now. She could do a lot of things.

But first, she can do one right thing, for someone who didn’t deserve the heat she got. She unplugged her phone and held it above her head.

Olivia: Hey, Josie. I talked to Theia about the party. I’m sorry I made an ass of myself at your expense.

Read at 8:55pm

-- Josie: It was not the funnest thing. I appreciate your apology, though. Theia was being ridiculous, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.

Olivia: It’s not your job to apologize for her choices.

-- Josie: I know! Is Cassandra okay?

Olivia: Yeah. A lot has happened. I’m feeling really overwhelmed.

-- Josie: Oh, dear. You want to get coffee tomorrow?

Olivia: 😭

-- Josie: Lol, okay. I’ll meet you in the Hub.

#fic update #day & age #friendship fic #college AU #college!ellinor #college!olivia #modern thedas au #hot mess express

18 notes · View notes

justbelustful · 7 years ago

Text

just a misunderstanding

character: kim donghan // jbj

writer: admin love

genre: smut

summary: you unintentionally make donghan jealous, and then it becomes less accidental. however, donghan has a punishment in mind for you.

warnings: jealous!donghan, dom!donghan, rough sex

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i’m a little out of practice for writing smut, i’m sorry! i love donghan and hopefully i did him justice.

you hadn’t seen donghan in six months. first produce 101 took your boyfriend away and then not long after that he was occupied by jbj. of course you were happy for him, you had never seen him so happy, but you missed him.

while he was gone you started to hang out with an old guy friend from high school. he had texted you asking if you wanted to catch up and you agreed because you had nothing better to do with your time.

you went out for coffee a couple times and then it became a regular routine. you would hang out often and people on the streets would often mistake you for a couple.

you were in the middle of getting lunch together when you got a text from donghan.

[bby]

babe? where you at? i’m home

[you]

i’m out with a friend, i’ll be home shortly

[bby]

come home soon! i miss my princess

you blushed at the pet name. it had been so long since he called you that. “sorry that was my boyfriend texting. can you take me home?”

“yeah yeah of course,”

you hadn’t even gotten your keys in the doorknob before donghan opened the door himself and pulled you into his embrace. “i missed you” he whispered, inhaling your shampoo.

“i missed you too, sorry if i took too long,” you whispered back before letting your purse hit the ground.

“movie night?” he asked.

“of course,”

“so how’s b/f/n?” donghan asked, draping his arm over your shoulder.

“good i think, i haven’t been hanging out with her much” you replied leaning into his warmth.

“i thought you were out with someone?”

“i was,” you hit his chest, “what? you think i don’t have any other friends?”

“that’s not it. i just haven’t met anyone else. so, who’s the lucky gal who stole my girlfriend?”

“oh it’s mason, we went to school together and we’ve been catching up,”

“oh” donghan said before turning his attention towards the tv.

nearing the end of the movie donghan pulled his phone out of his pocket. “i’m sorry babe, apparently we have an emergency practice, i gotta go.” he said pecking your cheeks and grabbing his jacket.

“it’s okay, i’ll find some way to keep myself entertained.”

“thanks for understanding, i’ll try and be back early tonight so we can cuddle. i love you!”

“i love you too,”

you pulled out your phone, “hey mason, donghan just had to leave for a schedule, want to go get dinner?”

“sure, i’ll pick you up in fifteen,”

you fixed your makeup and hair a little so you looked suitable in public. you were cold with the absence of donghan’s warmth, so you found one of his smaller hoodies and put it on, smiling every time you breathed in his scent.

you heard mason pull up and you took your place in the passenger seat, blasting jbj in mason’s ears.

“thanks for hanging out with me so much, i’ve been kinda lonely without donghan,”

“no problem,”

the night went on and you continued to crack jokes when mason tapped your shoulder and pointed behind you. you glanced over your shoulder and saw a guy around your age who was leaning against the wall making obvious stares at mason. “ooh,” you cooed at your red eared friend. “go get him tiger.”

“are you sure?”

“yeah i’ll find someone to pick me up,”

“thanks y/n”

[bby]

where do you keep disappearing too? are you with mason?

[you]

sorry i got bored.. i’m at the bar a few blocks from our house, come get me?

[bby]

why can’t mason bring you?

[you]

he’s kinda busy.. please baby?

[bby]

fine

you could feel the jealousy in his texts. you smiled to yourself staring at the couple picture as your lock screen. “why would i ever leave you?”

“princess,” you glanced up to see donghan with his window rolled down. “let’s go” you got in and pecked donghan on the lips.

“how was dinner?”

you thought back to his jealousy earlier and thought of a plan. “it was fun! mason’s really funny and he’s been keeping me company when i got lonely!”

he cocked a brow, “oh?”

“yeah, he’s a great guy!”

“that’s nice princess. i’m tired from practice so we can save this for tomorrow?”

“okay daddy, whatever you say” you saw him visibly tense at the name that you rarely called him.

“babygirl..” his hand rested now on your thigh with the other on the wheel, “i’m already frustrated enough, don’t bring something on yourself you can’t handle,” his hand gave you thigh a slight squeeze, ghosting his fingers over your heat at almost every stop sign, adding some pressure every now and then to make you squirm. he pulled in the driveway and retracted his hand before getting out of the car. you pouted, you were so close to getting the attention you didn’t know you needed. you went inside and changed into some pajamas, laid on your bed and texted mason.

“how’s your mysterious lover boy?”

[mason]

his name is elijah and he’s great, i’ll introduce you sometime. don’t steal my man tho

you giggled, “i don’t think that’ll be a problem. you’re a great man”

“who are you texting” donghan called.

god damn you missed this view.

his brown hair was wet and pushed off his forehead, dressed in nothing but gray sweats, he plopped next to you on the bed.

“i know i look great princess but please answer the question,”

“mason, he-“ donghan took the phone out of your hand and set it on the table beside him. “how hard is it to get your attention, because for mason it seems pretty easy.”

“i texted him first, you kinda left me hanging there in the car,”

“so you text another guy? real clsssy y/n,” he sighed turning away.

“donghan seriously? i love you,”

“prove it,” he snapped turning towards you, his eyes darker than they were a few moments before. “but like i said in the car, don’t start something you can’t finish”

you leaned in connecting your lips. it took almost no time for donghan to respond, pulling you into his lap and holding you close. he pulled away and latched his lips to your neck, quickly finding your sweet spot, causing you to let out a moan. his hands rested on your waist, moving you against his thigh, before ordering you move by yourself. his hands found the buttons on your blouse and started to unbutton it, marking the new exposed area. “d-donghan” you moaned, the pleasure from his thigh bringing you to your edge.

“i hate to break it to you baby girl but i think ive become more attached to ‘daddy’” he said against your breasts that he had begun to abuse, “plus i don’t think you deserve to cum yet,” he growled, pulling you off of him and laying you against the bed. he began to massage your breasts, whines leaving your mouth as he did so.

“i was so close” “i told you not to start something you couldn’t handle.” he smirked, “too late to back out now” he leaned back in to revisit your neck as his fingers found your waist band. he pulled off your shorts and panties, leaving you completely exposed to him. he made his way down to your heat, nipping at the sensitive skin every once in a while. his lips wasted no time kissing your inner thighs, taking the skin between his teeth every so often.

“please just hurry up,” “princess is impatient tonight. what do we say y/n?” you sighed, the teasing becoming too much, “daddy please just hurry up” “good girl,” he practically pitted against your heat causing you to jump. he took your clit into his mouth and began sucking mercilessly, causing you to start moving and moaning loudly. his hands spread your legs, giving him more access to your heat. he gave kitten licks to the rest of your folds before taking your strip back between his lips, grazing it with his teeth.

“i’m so close, please donghan” you said with your hands in his hair, pulling him as close as you could. he pulled away, his fingers entering you instead, pumping slowly.

“i think you messed up again princess,”

“fuck” you muttered, trying to grind against his hand.

“i don’t think so,” he said, removing his fingers. his hand made its way to his crotch. “god damn it, look what you did. guess i’m done with my fun, i need you baby girl,” he stripped himself of his sweats and underwear, lining himself up at your entrance. without warning his slammed himself in, getting a loud reaction from you.

he began moving his hips fluidly, as if it was a routine he’s been practicing for and is finally showcasing. normally donghan would keep asking if you were okay because he’s like twice your size and doesn’t want to hurt you, but it wasn’t like that today. his hips bucked against yours at a great speed, focused more on his own pleasure than your own. you came first, screaming as your high was finally allowed. what you didn’t account for was that donghan might take a bit longer than you, his speed not slowly even at your cries for him to stop.

you squirmed against his member, clawing at his back as the feeling was overwhelming. you felt the familiar feeling coil in your stomach for what felt like the millionth time tonight, when donghan pulled out, and collapsed out of energy.

“i-“ you breathed out, finally given time to relax, “did you even mean to do it that time?” “well of course, i got what i wanted.” he grinned, pulling your body against yours, draping the both of you with your sheet. he fell asleep not long after and you turned to look at his godly visuals. you thought to yourself, “i love you loser, and only you.” you sighed, “now how am i supposed to break it to you that mason is gay?”

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pizza-is-my-buziness · 7 years ago

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I Wanna Be Who I Couldn’t Say I’d Ever Been

So this story is completely the result of the awesome Ruby Hale head canons that @ohdangitsang has been blessing me with for the last few weeks and honestly I am just so grateful for these ideas because I need them in my life. Please never stop.

Basically it’s Ruby + being raised by SHIELD moms + plus going to school with “normal” teenagers Peter, Ned and MJ and being a total gay mess. And I definitely want to write more in this because I just love this verse so much.

So yeah, it’s a total guilty pleasure. But that’s the point, right?

“Remember: don’t kill anyone today.”

Daisy had said those words a few short hours ago, a smile on her face, but a hint of fear in her eyes, like she was actually a little bit worried about the joke being more prophetic than humorous. Ruby had only looked at her before getting out of the car without comment and walking up the steps of Midtown School of Science and Technology.

Now Ruby can’t help but repeat Daisy’s words in her mind, thinking about them like a mantra, an important thing to keep in mind.

It’s her first day of high school. She really can’t afford to kill anyone.

Though it is a little bit tempting.

Ruby tightens her hand into a fist, flexing her fingers -empty and useless- as she sits through a biology lecture that covers something she learned years ago. Who would have thought that Hydra had time to actually teach important academic concepts in between teaching their students how to kill the president with a fork?

Ruby tries to focus on the words of the teacher rather than the onslaught of other stimuli around her. There are twenty other students in the class, double the amount of teenagers that she’s used to being around at one time, and each one of them seems determined to make as much noise as possible. The scratching of pencils on paper, the scuff of sneakers on linoleum, the tap of fingers on the surface of a desk, the snuffling, sniffing, coughing, scratching…Ruby doesn’t know how they can stand all of it. It makes her skin crawl, makes her want to jump out of her seat and release some of the tension coiling at the base of her spine.

And the teacher doesn’t seem at all bothered by all the sounds, continuing with his lecture like he isn’t aware of the constant stream of noise coming from his pupils.

Plus there’s the sounds coming from the hallway outside. She’s counted ten people out in the hallway since the start of class twenty-five minutes ago and then there’s the banging of doors, the sighing and rattling pipes, the murmur of voices from the other classrooms.

Ruby can’t even think about the sounds coming from outside the window right now. She’s barely holding onto her sanity as it is.

The person in front of her is a foot-tapper and Ruby stretches her fingers toward the pen on her desk, holding her breath as she curls her fingers around it and pulls it closer and-

Don’t kill anyone today.

Ruby sighs as Daisy’s words repeat through her mind and she forces herself to relax against the back of her seat, loosening her grip on her pen. She can’t afford to make a mistake on her first day and risk getting sent off to the Fridge or some other SHIELD stronghold -a favorite threat of Mack and Coulson. Ruby is pretty sure that Coulson is mostly kidding when he says it, but she’s not completely sure about Mack. Though she’s not sure that he has that kind of pull.

Better to not risk it until at least Friday.

Instead, Ruby just exhales slowly through her teeth, giving the teacher a cursory glance to make sure that she’s still ahead of his current lecture points, before letting her eyes play over the collection of teenagers seated around her.

Real, normal, actual teenagers. Ones who have been living in this normal, real, regular life since they were born. Teenagers who don’t know anything about how to kill someone with their bare hands. Teenagers who haven’t been designed to be the perfect weapon.

Ruby has no idea how they do it.

She looks at the boy sitting to her left, the one intently scribbling in his notebook even though nothing he’s writing has anything to do with the equations that the teacher is writing on the board. Ruby watches him for a second before growing bored with his muses on the abilities of various species of spiders, studying the smattering of other students around her. The blonde in a cheerleading uniform, the kid in glasses who is diligently taking notes on the lecture, the guy staring at his crotch where he’s got his phone hidden like he’s totally being sneaky. The girl diagonal to her that isn’t even bothering to hide the fact that she’s reading a book and not paying even a sliver of attention to the teacher.

Ruby shifts impatiently in her seat, glancing toward the clock. Her body is humming with energy -she’s not used to sitting still for this long and she actually finds herself missing the drills and exercise routines that her instructors used to make her run until she was blinking sweat away from her eyes and gritting her teeth against the burning in her muscles.

When the bell finally rings, Ruby jumps in her seat, startled by the sudden, shrill sound. She’s heard it three times already, but she still hasn’t grown used to the sound and she knocks her books onto the floor, earning her a few giggles from her classmates. The kid who had been intently scribbling down things about spiders starts to help her gather her stuff but Ruby snatches it away quickly, hurrying out of the room.

It feels good to be moving at least, even if she’s just going from one room to the next, following the schedule that Jemma put into her hands the night before and instructed her to follow down to the minute. “You always need to be exactly where you’re supposed to be,” she had said, her voice a mixture of stern and understanding. “It’s very important.”

Ruby had taken the schedule with a roll of her eyes. “You think I don’t know how to follow orders?”

She already has the schedule memorized, right down to the room numbers and the names of the teachers and the layout of the school building. Ruby follows the crush of students in the direction of the cafeteria, studying the new terrain with a touch of trepidation. Daisy had briefed her on this part of her day, telling her to make friends, to find someone pleasant to sit with so that she didn’t have to be alone.

Friends. Hmm. Ruby figures it’s probably pretty hard to make friends when you’re attending normal high school for the first time after being raised as an indomitable Hydra weapon. But also the whole not having said a word to anyone all day thing probably doesn’t help either.

Ruby isn’t entirely sure where she stands on the subject of friends anyway. She’s never had them; she’s only ever dealt with people who sought to keep her from her goal, her purpose. She’s had the blood of her classmates on her hands, and even in some cases, their deaths on her shoulders. Which is probably something the people laughing and carrying on around her can’t exactly relate to.

“Hey! Hey, new girl!”

It takes Ruby only a second to ascertain that this summons is directed at her. When she turns her head, she sees the spider-boy waving her over to a table, a grin on his face. Beside him, his pudgy friend is also smiling, though much in the same way that Daisy had smiled at her that morning -hopeful but with a hint of fear.

“Come sit with us.” He points to an empty chair opposite of where he’s currently sitting and Ruby debates her options for a second before moving in his direction.

“We always have empty spaces at our table,” the spider-boy tells her before sitting down in his own seat. “I’m Peter and this is Ned. How’s your first day going?”

Ruby blinks at him, trying to decide if this is a normal thing that normal teenagers do. Do they often talk to one another without pausing? Do they often engage in conversation with strangers without having any type of motive?

Peter and Ned exchange a look at her silence and then Ned shrugs, picking up the slice of pizza on his plate and starting to eat like having strange, silent, blonde girls at the lunch table is completely ordinary.

“You need help navigating the line?” Peter tilts his head in the direction of the massing of students moving through the line, holding trays of food.

Ruby unzips her backpack, pulling out the lunch that Jemma had packed for her that morning in a lunchbox that Daisy had bought for her. “It’s red, see? Like…you know…” Daisy had grinned at her, far too amused in what she perceived as her own cleverness. “Like ruby.”

Ruby isn’t entirely sure if normal teenagers have lunchboxes to coordinate with their names so she makes a mental note to do some recon, just so she knows how to ensure her normalcy tomorrow.

No one really seems to be paying much attention to her at all, aside from Peter and Ned, so Ruby figures that she’s safe for the time being.

Peter just nods. “Ah, good thinking,” he says. “The food here can actually be pretty good, though.”

Ned lifts his pizza slice as proof. “Mondays are always pizza day.”

Ruby studies the triangle in his hand. “I’ve never had pizza.”

This comment earns her incredulous looks from both Ned and Peter and Ruby is pretty sure that Ned only just barely manages not to drop the pizza back onto his tray. She isn’t sure if their surprise is because she’s uttered her first sentence since walking into the school building or because she’s never eaten pizza before.

She’s not sure which is a worse offense in their minds.

Peter and Ned are still fumbling with a response when Ruby senses movement to her right and turns her head just as the girl from her science class drops into the chair beside her. She sets her tray down in front of her and pulls out her book, flipping it open without a glance at the other people at the table.

“That’s Michelle,” Peter says, pointing to the girl with her curly hair piled on top of her head and her deep brown eyes scanning the pages of her book.

“Sup,” Michelle says without looking out from her book. “MJ.”

Peter lifts his eyebrows. “I thought you said only your friends could call you that.”

The girl just looks at him over the top of her book and turns the page without comment.

Ruby looks at the three of them and tries to decipher the conversation going on around her. She’s starting to feel even less equipped for normal high school than she’d previously thought.

There seems to be an air of expectation at the table and Ruby sighs, breathing out slowly. “My name is Ruby.”

It’s been a while since she’s been around people who didn’t know who she was.

Who didn’t know to be afraid of her.

Ruby isn’t sure what to make of the sudden tightness in her chest, the way her stomach feels like it’s twisting around inside her body.

“So,” Ned says, unaware of the sudden fluttery panic that Ruby feels running through her body, “you’ve really never had pizza?”

~ ~ ~

After lunch, Ruby is almost relieved to head to the gym, though her relief is quickly tempered by disappointment when she sees that it’s nothing like the gym from the safe house. There are just bleachers and freshly waxed floors and a few basketball hoops and everything smells like sweat and desperation and rubber and Ruby isn’t sure what she’s supposed to do with this.

How is she supposed to keep herself in shape with…this? How is she supposed to work off the energy threatening to tear her apart from the inside out?

The coach blows the whistle around his neck and Ruby jumps once again, cursing herself under her breath. She makes a mental note to ask May to work whistle drills into their regular training sessions in the hopes that it’ll help her look more normal around her classmates, more like she belongs there.

“Okay, go ahead and start your stretches and then we’ll move on to push-ups,” the coach says, his tone matching the bored expressions that Ruby sees around her. “We’ll finish with laps. Let’s go people.”

Of course he punctuates his instructions with another bleat on the whistle and Ruby grits her teeth, rolling her shoulders. She’s really tempted to grab that whistle and shove it down his throat…if she doesn’t shove it too far down then she should still be able to adhere to Daisy’s command to not kill anyone.

As Ruby effortlessly moves through the stretches that she’s been doing since she could walk, she notices Peter and Ned a few feet to her left and, beside them, MJ. Who happens to be sitting cross-legged on the floor, book in her lap. Ruby stretches her arm across her chest, holding the posture until she feels her muscles start to tingle, coming alive, keeping her focus on MJ.

MJ lifts her head as if sensing Ruby’s eyes on hers, meeting Ruby’s gaze before Ruby can look away. She holds up the book so that Ruby can see the title: The Handmaid’s Tale, raising her eyebrows in a question that Ruby can’t entirely decipher.

Quickly, Ruby looks away, feeling a strange heat rush to her cheeks, the unsettling feeling returning to her stomach. She pushes it away, focusing on loosening her body in preparation for the push-ups.

And, of course, the command to begin comes with a whistle.

Ruby really wants to snatch that thing away from the coach and wrap the lanyard around his neck and just-

Thankfully the physical activity helps take her mind off the impulse that she feels to strangle the man. Ruby doesn’t bother to keep track of push-ups, focusing instead on her breathing, on the movement of her muscles, the curve of her spine as she moves effortlessly.

It takes her a few minutes to realize that the coach is staring at her with interest, whistle hanging loosely from his teeth. “Where did you say you transferred from?” He asks when he sees that he has Ruby’s attention. “Was it some kind of military academy?”

Ruby doesn’t bother to answer, moving fluidly from the push-up position to standing once more. She wipes at her forehead with the back of her hand even though she’s not close to sweating. It’s a bit of a disappointment. Clearly she’s going to have to hold back here, as it seems like physical prowess is not normal.

And Ruby so badly just wants to be normal.

The coach moves off to supervise some of the other students and Ruby sees that he’s not the only one who has been watching her. Peter is studying her closely too, brow furrowed with interest. He looks like he wants to say something, which Ruby figures is the perfect excuse to turn her back to him and act like she needs to go through the stretching process once more, even though her body is itching, aching to move.

It’s a relief when they move to the laps portion of the class and Ruby doesn’t even bother to remember to keep herself in check as they start their laps around the all too small space of the gym. She thinks if she bothers to hold back, even for a moment longer, that she’ll go completely crazy.

And then someone really might die.

And then where would she be?

Ruby laps everyone easily, focusing on the sound of her feet against the floor. It makes it easier to move, to think, when that’s all she has to concentrate on.

And then…she hears another pair of footsteps join the rhythm that she’s gotten used to, matching her pace.

Ruby frowns, lifting her head, glancing over to her left. She’s only somewhat surprised to see Peter running there beside her, grinning, not seeming the least bit winded. “Finally, someone else who can keep up,” he says, companionably.

Ruby purses her lips, adding a little bit more speed to her laps, hardly in the mood for conversation.

Not that it matters. For every burst of speed Ruby gives to her strides, Peter is there to match her perfectly, keeping pace with her effortlessly. Ruby stops bothering to count laps, stops keeping track of the number of times that she laps her classmates, instead focusing on Peter and shaking him.

It doesn’t do much good. He keeps perfect pace with her until the coach blows his whistle and Ruby breaks her stride, nearly stumbling in her surprise. Peter reaches for her, keeping her upright with a hand on her shoulder, which Ruby quickly shakes away.

“Okay, I think that’s enough of that,” the coach calls from the opposite side of the gym. “Everybody dress out.”

Peter grins at her, not seeming at all winded. Which is something Ruby can relate to. He steps closer to her, invading her personal space. “So, are you like…” He glances around to make sure there’s no one else around. “A superhero too or something?”

Ruby steps back quickly, trying to force down the sudden surge of panic that she feels at Peter’s words.

She heads toward the girls’ locker room without bothering to answer, without even trying to protest that she’s normal, totally normal, that she’s here because she’s normal. Normal, normal, normal.

That’s all she wants to be.

Ruby figures it’ll do no good to point out to Peter that she’s hardly a superhero.

More like a supervillain.

~ ~ ~

As Ruby heads down the steps toward the line of cars waiting at the front of the building, she spots MJ sitting cross-legged beside one of the stone statues at the front of the school. MJ lifts her hand in a brief wave, lifting her chin in a parting gesture.

Ruby swallows and looks away quickly.

It’s a definite relief to be sitting in the back seat of the car, closed into the small space with just Daisy and Jemma.

Even though Ruby can tell right away they’re both trying to hide their anxiety, trying to look casual as they both turn around in their seats to look at her.

“So…” Daisy prompts, a hopeful smile on her face.

“How was it?” Jemma finishes the sentence for her and Ruby wants to tell them that they both suck at this whole casual persona they’re trying to master.

Ruby just shrugs, looking out the window at the stream of students. She briefly thinks about telling them about the bells, about all the sounds and movement and things that threaten to distract her. She thinks about telling them about the schedule and how she almost can’t stand the forced rigidity of it. She thinks about mentioning Peter’s strange comment to her, or even mentioning Peter and Ned to them and suggesting timidly that she might have friends.

But then she sees MJ and Ruby purses her lips, frowning slightly.

Ruby looks back toward Daisy and Jemma, who are still staring at her and Ruby can practically feel them holding their collective breath. “Can you take me to the library?” She asks, rather than answer their impatient, unspoken questions. “I need to get a book.”

Daisy and Jemma exchange a look, nearly indecipherable given the years that Ruby assumes they’ve had to perfect their special form of silent communication.

Finally Jemma nods. “Of course. Do you need it for school?”

Ruby shrugs, settling back in her seat. “No,” she says. “Someone recommended it to me.”

At least, she thinks that’s what happened anyway.

Teenagers are hard to figure out.

Daisy lifts an eyebrow. “You made a friend?”

A few months ago, Ruby would have sneered at the hopeful lilt in Daisy’s voice. She would have seen it as weakness, exploited it to gain the upper hand, to do whatever she had to do to take out her enemy.

Hope, much like friends, was completely unnecessary to her even a month ago.

Now Ruby just shrugs, turning the word over in her mind.

A month ago, she wouldn’t have cared about having friends.

She wouldn’t have cared about being normal.

But Ruby knows how fast circumstances can change.

#my writing #fics #like what even is canon anymore who cares #ohdangitsang #I want to write in this verse forever

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artificialqueens · 8 years ago

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The Bitch and the Dumbass 2/? (Biadore) - Miss Bianca

A/N: So here’s the second chapter! Thank you guys so much for the great response to the first, it really inspired me to get moving and write some more. I’m still not fully sure where this is going, but I’m a slut for high school AUs, and this is giving me my life, so I’m sticking with it. We’ve got a couple new characters in this one, and I’m adding Witney as a lil side ship, because I’ve recently become fully obsessed with Willam. Hope y'all like this, and please tell me what you think! You can also find it and my other stuff on my ao3, MissBianca.

In the first few weeks of chemistry class, Bianca learned three things (other than the class material itself) that she immediately filed away to think about when she was bored.

She also wrote them down, of course - on the backs of her pages of notes, when Adore was too busy daydreaming to pay attention. Bianca’s brain got so busy sometimes that it was best to keep a record of whatever she wanted to remember.

First of all, Bianca learned the right way to lean on her desk during the breaks in lecture so she could catch all of Gia and Vivienne’s gossip (without them realizing she was listening), to share with Courtney later. Through that, she also learned that the dance team captain, Alyssa Edwards, was the gossip queen of the school.

Honestly, if Bianca had a dollar for every time she’d heard Gia whisper ‘Alyssa says…’ in that annoying drawl of hers, she’d be able to live comfortably without even getting her high school diploma for the rest of her life.

Secondly, she learned that Ms. Visage was not the monster people made her out to be. She wasn’t easygoing, by any means, but her infamous mean streak actually made Bianca more inclined to like her. Ms. Visage was a judgemental bitch, that was for sure. But from what Bianca could tell, she really just wanted all of her students to succeed and live up to their full potential.

However, as far Bianca was concerned, Ms. Visage’s impression of Adore’s full potential was misguided. The teacher expected Adore to have full comprehension of all of the readings and material, something that very clearly wasn’t going to happen.

That led to the third thing Bianca had learned: Adore, despite being seemingly unable to focus on academics, wasn’t actually as dumb as Bianca and everyone else had assumed she was. When they did labs, Adore always had a relatively good grasp on what she was doing, and Bianca didn’t mind answering what questions she did have.

It seemed harder for Adore to understand all the lectures, but she seemed to be trying to. Even though her leg bounced almost nonstop and her nails tapped against the desk impatiently, she started out every class taking notes.

Halfway through, though, Adore’s focus would start to slip, and Bianca would catch her doodling in the corners of her pages instead.

And that brought Bianca to the present moment, 25 minutes into Friday chemistry class, with a page and a half full of notes on the properties of the noble and halogen gases in front of her. Beside her was Adore, with about two thirds of that material written down in messy handwriting, from what Bianca could make out.

The other girl was tugging on her lower lip with her teeth, and humming quietly as she carefully drew a series of small cats right in the middle of her page.

Instinctively, Bianca wanted to tell Adore to pay attention, but she doubted it would make a difference. Ms. Visage was only going over the readings anyway, and Bianca’s hand was tired from taking notes all day. She set down her pen, propped her chin up on her fist, and watched Adore for a moment.

Adore’s bright eyes were soft and striking at the same time, lashes fluttering as she surveyed her doodles. A lock of dyed blonde hair was slowly falling across her round cheek, and the slightly pouty, focused look on her face made a smile tug at Bianca’s lips.

As much as she’d resented being paired with Adore two weeks ago, Bianca was minding sharing a desk less and less every day. If she was honest, Adore was actually kind of…adorable. She winced internally at the unintentional pun.

“See something you like, nerd?” Adore murmured, smirking lazily as her eyes flicked over to Bianca quickly.

“Just wondering what it’s like in that messy brain of yours,” Bianca fired back quickly, her voice low and raspy. “Don’t you get dizzy, with how fast everything goes in one ear and out the other?”

Adore grinned, her tongue poking out between her teeth as she finished off the ears of another tiny cat on her paper.

“Maybe I like being empty-headed,” she replied, resting her cheek on her fist and smiling vapidly at Bianca. “I’ll graduate and be someone’s trophy wife, never work again.”

Bianca snorted.

“Better fix those roots first, bitch,” she retorted. “And get your tits done. Rich older men like tits.”

“How about rich older women?”

Bianca raised an eyebrow. Was Adore gay? For some reason, she’d never even considered the possibility. It hadn’t really mattered before, she figured. And it still didn’t matter. Biana forced herself to stop thinking about it.

“How should I know?” she replied finally.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Adore whispered, feigning surprise. “I thought you were one of them. I must’ve been confused by your worn out hairstyles and that grandma neckline.”

“Well, damn,” Bianca cackled quietly despite herself, covering her mouth. “Not bad for the dumb girl.”

Adore shrugged, still grinning, and turned her attention back to her notebook. Bianca tried to do the same, reviewing the notes she’d already written, but she lost interest quickly, and in a minute or so, she found herself looking up at Adore again.

This time, though, Adore was already staring at her.

“You really think they’re too small?”

“Huh?”

“My tits,” Adore explained, her voice low. “You really think they’re that small?”

“I - well, I hadn’t -” Bianca stammered, thrown off guard. She glanced down at Adore’s chest, and then back up to the other girl’s face to see Adore smirking at her again. “I mean,” she paused, trying to regain control of the situation. “They’re n-not too small, they’re nice tits - I mean, objectively, of course - but they’re not trophy wife material.”

“Aw, thanks,” Adore teased, batting her eyelashes rapidly and shimmying her shoulders. “Glad you like them. Yours are nice too, very -”

“- Don’t,” Bianca cut her off, slightly flustered. “Just shut up, you idiot.”

Adore laughed too loudly, and Ms. Visage’s droning voice fell silent.

“Oh, shit,” Adore muttered, covering her mouth with her hand. Bianca grinned, suppressing her own laughter.

“Delano!” Ms. Visage shouted sharply. “What did I say about talking during my class?”

“I wasn’t talking, I was laughing,” Adore replied, and a wave of giggles swept through the classroom.

“Delano, my class is not a joke.”

“Yeah, c’mon, Delano, it’s life or death here,” Bianca added, jumping onboard delightedly. Ms. Visage’s lips twitched.

“Sorry, Ms. Visage, Ms. Del Rio,” Adore said mockingly, rolling her eyes and flipping Bianca off.

“Ms. Visage,” Bianca called, gasping with offense. “Adore’s being profane -”

“I didn’t say anything!” Adore denied.

“She flipped me off, that’s the same -”

“That’s enough, you two,” Ms. Visage cut them off firmly. “I have a lecture to get back to.”

Clearly satisfied with herself, Adore flicked her hair over her shoulder. Huffing out a sigh, Bianca tapped her finger sharply against Adore’s notebook.

“Get back to it, airhead.”

Adore flipped her off again.

Reluctantly, Bianca resumed taking notes as the rest of the period crawled by, glancing sidelong at Adore every so often and trying not to get caught up in staring at her.

When the bell finally rang, Adore nearly fell off her stool in her hurry to get up, her arms swinging comically. Chuckling, Bianca put her things away and slid her ever-present sunglasses back into place on her head.

“Bianca!” Courtney called. Bianca looked up to see her best friend standing near the doorway impatiently, with Alaska Thunder, Dela Creme, and Darienne Lake hovering beside her.

“I’m coming, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Bianca quipped, hopping off her stool and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“We getting lunch?” Courtney asked as Bianca walked towards her. “Willam texted and said she’s saving the table.”

“Yes, Court, it’s lunchtime,” Bianca replied slowly, as if Courtney was stupid. “When else would we get lunch?”

“Good!” Courtney linked their arms together, completely unfazed by Bianca’s rudeness. “C’mon, then. You too, Adore.”

“Huh?” That was Adore. Bianca looked over her shoulder to see the other girl frowning confusedly.

“Wait, there’s no way Adore’s coming to -” Bianca began to say.

“Yes, she is,” Courtney interrupted. “So are Dela and Darienne here. Let’s go, people, time to start walking. Haven’t got all day.”

“But, Court,” Bianca tried again, letting Courtney pull her along as the group shuffled out through the door and headed towards the cafeteria. Adore hovered on Bianca’s other side, and Darienne’s boots could be heard pounding the floor behind them.

“No buts.” Courtney shook her head. “I was talking to them before class, and they seem like pretty cool people. And you need more friends anyway.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Bianca snapped halfheartedly. “I guess this bitch is coming, too?” She nodded towards Alaska.

The tall blonde was a few feet away from Courtney, her posture surprisingly diminutive for someone decked out in combat boots, heavy metal jewelry, and dark eye makeup that gave her a ‘I’m so hardcore that I just got punched in the face twice’ look.

“I dunno,” Courtney shrugged. “Alaska, are you?”

Alaska looked up, seeming slightly startled. She blinked a few times, running a hand through her messy hair.

“If you guys - if you want,” Alaska said unsurely.

“Court, she looks like she hasn’t brushed her hair in a week,” Bianca muttered. “I feel like something’s gonna jump out of that nest and bite me.”

“Of course, we’d love to have you!” Courtney chirped, ignoring Bianca entirely and waving Alaska closer with her free hand. “C’mere.”

“I can’t believe you,” Bianca hissed under her breath, and Courtney squeezed her arm. “I swear to god Court, if you try to invite that bitch who looks like the product of a meth-ridden 3 AM hookup between Elvira and fucking Marilyn Manson, I will -”

“Sharon can come too, if you like,” Courtney added, cutting Bianca off before she could finish her whispered threat. “You two are friends, right?”

“You’re the devil,” Bianca muttered in Courtney’s ear.

“Oh no, that’s okay,” Alaska said, shaking her head and frowning. “Sharon doesn’t eat at the cafeteria. I don’t either. Not usually, at least.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Courtney chirped. “You’re with us, now.”

Bianca sighed deeply.

“Oh, c’mon now, turn that frown upside down, Willow,” Courtney said with a grin, elbowing her. “It’ll be fun! Who knows, you might actually find someone you like in the bunch.”

“I’ve got you already, I’m good,” Bianca said. There was a responding coo from Courtney, who squeezed her arm again.

“Aw, what about me?” Adore half whined on her other side, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“What about you?” Bianca said, glancing up at Adore.

“Seemed like you liked me a lot earlier,” Adore teased, looping her arm through Bianca’s and pressing in next to her, almost as if she was mocking how the other two girls always walked together.

“Oooh, someone’s getting friendly,” Courtney commented with a giggle.

Bianca’s cheeks started to get warm as Courtney side-eyed her. Trying to pretend that she wasn’t blushing, Bianca rolled her eyes exasperatedly. She swore sometimes that Courtney was put on the earth just to embarrass her.

“Yeah, just this whore,” she snorted. Adore’s hand was brushing lightly against the inside of her wrist, and Bianca didn’t think she liked the way it made her skin tingle. “Get off of me, bitch, I wouldn’t wanna catch anything.”

Adore smiled charmingly, and Bianca pushed her off, making a face. On the other side of Courtney, Alaska giggled.

The girls made their way quickly through the halls, other students getting out of their way at the mere sight of Bianca and Courtney heading up the pack.

The crowd inside the cafeteria parted like the red sea in front of her, almost eliminating the line for food entirely. As she grabbed a lunch tray, Bianca was suddenly glad that she was levelheaded enough not to let the rush of power get the best of her. She couldn’t stand the people who did let high school popularity go to their heads.

Bianca knew that she was a bitch. In fact, she owned it. But - in her opinion - it was never uncalled for bitchiness. If someone did something stupid, they deserved to be read, and Bianca would be damned if she wasn’t the one to do it. It was all just honesty, really, and if the truth scared people, they could just stay the fuck out of her way.

Which, of course, they did.

Which, in turn, bumped her, albeit unintentionally, up the social food chain. Bianca hadn’t sought popularity out, but she had it anyway - a combination of power through fear and admiration through concise fashion choices. And also, a burst of luck from having the school’s #1 overachiever and social butterfly at her side most of the time.

The people that did seek popularity out, though, the ones who wore metaphorical masks to school, fought tooth and nail for power, and abused it when they did have it, those were the people that Bianca wanted to roast like pigs on spits.

If their school had stayed true to the stereotype, then Courtney and her fellow cheerleaders would’ve been that sort of people. But at Johnson High School, it was the core of the champion dance team who formed an unbreakable, intolerable, and sometimes cruel clique.

Bianca knew Shangela, one of the best dancers, and she wasn’t so bad, just a gossip addict. She’d also been friends with Alyssa Edwards in middle school, and Alyssa wasn’t a bitch, just an often insensitive diva. It was the ones like Gia Gunn, Coco Montrese, and Tyra Sanchez - and more recently Laganja Estranja - who were the worst. They were the ones who couldn’t get enough of being the center of attention and talked shit about everyone outside of their social circle for fun.

“Willam!” Courtney pulled Bianca out of her thoughts with an excited squeal, wobbling on her tiptoes so she could see over the sea of people to their table. “I see her, Bianca, c’mon!”

Bianca grabbed her lunch tray, hurrying after Courtney as her friend trotted quickly through the crowd.

Wondering if they’d managed to lose the latest victims of Courtney’s almost aggressive friendliness in the bustle of the cafeteria, Bianca glanced over her shoulder.

No such luck. The rest of their little group was following along like ducklings, Dela and Darienne keeping up the pace pretty well. Adore was another story, balancing her tray precariously against her hip as she struggled to get the strap of her bag back over her shoulder and catch up at the same time. Bianca snorted.

The cafeteria was packed with students, but their table was mostly empty, aside from a couple of Courtney’s friends that she knew Bianca would tolerate. Today, it was two other cheerleaders: Willam Belli, wildly popular and probably Courtney’s favorite person on the planet, and Joslyn Fox, a sophomore who thought Courtney was a god.

Bianca raised an eyebrow, making a mental note to interrogate Courtney later for both choices - Willam, because Courtney was getting very transparent about the crush she had on the her, and Joslyn, because letting her sit with them could not be explained through anything other than Courtney’s narcissistic tendencies.

Willam, the object of Courtney’s attention, was poised perfectly on the bench, her multi-colored pastel hair in beachy waves that were clearly supposed to look tousled and messy.

There was no food in front of her - Willam didn’t like to eat in public - and she was popping her gum loudly as she looked down at her phone. She also clearly hadn’t noticed the excited blonde puppy that was Courtney Act hurrying towards her.

As someone who spent a lot of time on her hair and makeup, Bianca knew exactly how much work it had taken Willam to look careless, and she respected it, just like she respected Willam’s impeccable fashion sense and taste for expensive shoes.

All in all, if Courtney had to have a crush on someone, which she always did, Bianca was fine with it being Willam. She’d give the couple her stamp of approval, if she had to.

Courtney reached the table, hopping up onto the bench right next to Willam and immediately invading her personal space with a kiss on her cheek. Willam nearly dropped her phone in surprise, cursing loudly as Courtney wrapped an arm around her waist.

Cackling, Bianca sat down on Courtney’s other side. Resting her elbow on the table, she watched them as they interacted, gathering ammunition to use later when she made Courtney admit her hopeless crush and do something about it.

“You got lip gloss on me,” Willam laughed, setting down her phone and reluctantly letting Courtney pull her in closer. “Fuckin’ bitch.”

“It looks good on you,” Courtney said, grinning. “It’s your color!”

“I know all my colors, and that’s not one of them,” Willam replied, looking at Courtney. She paused for a moment before continuing, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s not one of yours either.”

“Hey!” Courtney gasped, offended.

Willam laughed, her arm wrapping around Courtney’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry, you’re still hot,” Willam added, reaching up to brush Courtney’s hair out of her face. “Even if you are shit at makeup.”

“Aw, fuck off,” Courtney huffed, her cheeks pink. Willam grinned even wider.

“I feel like I’m gonna get my first and only cavity just from watching this,” Bianca said grumpily, waving her hand at them. “You’d think you’re a couple on a honeymoon, with all of this bullshit going on.”

“You’re just jealous,” Courtney said dismissively, resting her head on Willam’s shoulder.

“Yeah, she likes me better now,” Willam added, shrugging. Her words were clearly directed to Bianca, but her lazy smile focused only on Courtney, eyes bright and narrowed affectionately. “Sorry ‘bout it.”

Rolling her eyes, Bianca pointedly looked away. She wanted to commit that enamored look on Willam’s face to memory so she could describe it to Courtney later. Maybe it would help convince her to just ask the other girl out already, before Bianca did it for her.

After a moment, Bianca realized that Adore, Darienne, and Dela were all still standing around awkwardly with their lunch trays. Glancing to her other side, she saw Alaska hovering behind Courtney and Willam, looking very self-conscious.

“Well?” Bianca demanded, looking around at them. “Are you cunts gonna sit down, or keep making yourselves look stupid?”

“As if we’re the cunts here,” Darienne muttered, almost too quietly for Bianca to hear. Adore’s eyebrows shot up, and she glanced at Darienne sideways.

Dela nudged the trio over to the other side of the table, where an over-eager Joslyn Fox was waving them over with a smile. After a moment, Adore sat down across from Bianca, with Dela and Darienne beside her.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Bianca arched an eyebrow, glaring at Darienne once the three were settled on the bench.

“Hm?” Darienne looked up at her innocently. “Oh, nothing.”

“Mmhm, sure,” Bianca hummed, deciding to leave it for now. She eyed Darienne suspiciously. There was very little that she knew about Courtney’s new friend, and it made her slightly nervous. She’d have to try to get information out of one of the less annoying dance team girls later.

“Courtney,” Bianca said, nudging her friend, who lifted her head slightly with a hum. “Alaska’s still…”

She trailed off as she looked behind them. Alaska was gone, probably off to wherever she normally spent the lunch period.

“What about Alaska?” Courtney asked.

“Nothing, she just left,” Bianca shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Of course Alaska had left - they’d forgotten about her, and left her standing there awkwardly in the middle of the cafeteria. It wasn’t as if she was Bianca’s responsibility, though, so there was no reason to feel bad about it. It was Courtney who had dragged her along with them, and then promptly forgotten her entirely at the first sight of Willam Belli. Classic Courtney.

“Oh no!” Courtney exclaimed. “Where’d she go?”

“Oh nerrrr!” Willam repeated in an exaggerated imitation of Courtney’s accent. Bianca cackled. “Who’s Alaska?”

“I feel so bad,” Courtney said, a pout on her lips. “I liked her, I did!”

“Who’s Alaska?” Willam repeated her question, only to be ignored again.

“You forgot about her,” Dela put in from the other side of the table, her lips twisted in a frown. “I was waving her over to sit with us, but there’s not really enough room on this side.”

“Are you trying to imply something here?” Darienne asked, looking annoyed.

“Oh gosh, no, not at all!” Dela exclaimed, her eyes widening. “It’s just not a big bench, that’s all.”

“No, I see how it is,” Darienne said with a dramatic sigh, flapping her hand at Dela. “It’s fine.”

Seeming unsure of what to say, Dela glanced at Adore, who shrugged, picking at her food. Bianca narrowed her eyes as the table fell silent.

“Anyway, who’s Alaska?” Willam asked for a third time, breaking the weird tension dryly.

“Tall punk bitch, blonde rat’s nest on her head?” Bianca replied.

“Ohhh,” Willam nodded. “Smokes under the bleachers with Needles’ crew sometimes?”

“Does she?” Bianca asked, raising an eyebrow. She’d known Alaska hung out with Sharon sometimes, but Alaska was a good student, and Sharon and her friends were the type of people that would end up in prison or dead in alleys, not in college. And on top of that, Alaska had seemed so self-conscious and quiet, it was hard to imagine her breaking school rules so openly.

“I mean, unless she’s got a lookalike, yeah,” Willam shrugged. “I’ve seen her there a couple times. Fuck, she’s so trashy, though.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, much?” Bianca retorted, and Willam grinned.

“Fair.”

“She’s really nice,” Adore put in, speaking up for the first time. “Spends a lot of her time alone. She plays the piano in the band rooms sometimes, though, during free periods. I think I’ve heard her singing, too.”

“Her makeup is terrible,” Willam drawled.

“So’s Courtney’s,” Adore countered. Bianca cackled, surprised by the speed of Adore’s comeback. “And you clearly love her.”

“Hey, wait a second -” Courtney started to defend herself, perking up.

“Also fair,” Willam agreed, cutting Courtney off and stroking her hair soothingly, as if she was a pet, when she huffed in annoyance. Willam grinned at Adore. “I like you. What’s your name?”

“Adore Delano.”

“I’m Willam.”

“I know,” Adore chuckled.

“So why are you here?” Willam asked.

“She’s my lab partner,” Bianca said.

“I meant, like, all of them.”

“Courtney picked them up after chemistry class,” Bianca explained. “Said I needed more friends.”

“Sounds like her,” Willam snorted.

“I’m right here,” Courtney whined, nudging Willam’s shoulder with her nose like a puppy. Bianca just barely caught the flash of a genuine smile on Willam’s face before the other girl suppressed it.

“Wait, we’re friends?” Adore asked, resting her forearms on the table and leaning forward. “I thought you hated me.”

“No, we’re not,” Bianca snapped.

“But you don’t hate me, though?” Adore tilted her head to the side, a cute half smile on her face.

Bianca paused for a moment. Two weeks ago, she would’ve answered immediately that she did, but she wasn’t so sure anymore.

For as long as Adore had been on her radar, Bianca been grouping her with Laganja Estranja, mostly because Laganja and Adore had been inseparable Freshman year. She’d never interacted with either of them, but she’d heard Laganja talking far too much their sophomore year, when she started hanging out with the dance team girls. Now that she was on the dance team, she was insufferable.

So when Bianca had ended up in a fight with a loud and annoyed Adore the first day of class, it had been an easy assumption - if Laganja was a fake, loudmouthed attention whore, then her close friend was probably exactly the same way.

Obviously, Adore wasn’t. And come to think of it, Bianca hadn’t seen Adore and Laganja hanging out in a while anyway.

“I never said I hated you in the first place,” Bianca pointed out finally. “You were the one who came for me that first day.”

“You’re cool now, though,” Adore said, shrugging carelessly. “I mean, I can’t hate you, because you’re helpful, and sometimes you’re sweet, and you’re funny…but you’re truthful, but you’re a dick…you’re like, evil-nice.”

“She’s got you down pat, Bianca,” Courtney commented, giggling.

Bianca smiled at the little speech. Courtney was right. And the fact that Adore wasn’t ashamed to admit that she’d been wrong before made Bianca like her even more.

If Bianca was totally honest, the shameless, raw bitchiness that Adore had thrown her way that first day of class had been the reason that she’d actually communicated with Adore at all instead of just ignoring her. Adore wasn’t very smart, but she was funny and filterless and she spoke her mind, and that was the kind of person that Bianca fucked with.

“Now if you’d said that to me on day one, Adore, I’d have been your friend from the start,” Bianca said, laughing. “But it’s gonna take a bit longer than that, because you were such a cunt.”

“It’s fine, bitch, I’m not trying to be your friend just yet,” Adore said, making a face. “You’re an asshole, and you wear fucking sunglasses inside.”

There was a burst of chuckles from around the table, and Bianca could hear Willam’s wheezing, seal-like laugh above the rest. Bianca rolled her eyes, leaning forwards so she could glare at Willam.

“What?” Willam grinned. “She’s right. Wearing sunglasses inside is real fucking stupid.”

“Just put them in your bag?” Adore added. “It’s not like it’s hard?”

“Oooh, she reads Bianca, I like her,” Willam exclaimed, clearly delighted. “Courtney, can we keep her?”

“I’ll keep the sunglasses on, thanks,” Bianca retorted. “My hair gets frizzy, and they help keep it down.”

“Are you sure it’s not just because you wanna look cool?” Adore was smiling now, her eyes sparkling, and Bianca wasn’t sure she could take her eyes off of her if she tried.

“I’d look cool with or without them,” Bianca replied.

“That’s debatable,” Courtney put in.

“Yeah, I think it would take a lot away from the whole…look,” Willam mused.

“It does, I’ve seen her without them,” Courtney agreed.

“You’re all cunts,” Bianca said firmly.

All three of them laughed, and Bianca rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. Maybe the new additions to their little group weren’t the worst thing in the world.

#biadore #bianca del rio #adore delano #high school au #enemies to lovers #courtney act #witney #willam belli #alaska thunderfuck #bendelacreme #darienne lake #the bitch and the dumbass #miss bianca #rpdr fanfiction #lesbian au #cisgirl au #submission #tw cursing

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notcrypticbutcoy · 8 years ago

Text

When in London

For day 1 of Malec Week 2017, which really crept up on me out of nowhere – Future Scene!

(In which Malec inspire young love in London, and then cuddle and talk about it)

***

Julian hated Tube trains.

Alright, London was a busy city, with a population of ten million, but it felt like, at rush hour, all ten million people crammed themselves onto the London Underground. Commuting into the city was a horribly unpleasant affair, crammed into a corner with someone’s rucksack digging into his calf and someone else’s unpleasant body odour permeating the air and making him gag.

Forcing his way through the uptight businessmen and women with their smart briefcases and the significantly more rowdy and more cheerful people with toolboxes and sweatpants was almost a relief, if only because it meant he could final step onto the platform and get the hell off the train.

Both escalators up from the platform to the exit of the station had been set to move upwards, to quicker get the impatient commuters out of the station. Julian stood on one, tapping his fingers absent-mindedly against the rubber hand grip that moved faster than the escalator itself.

Something - or rather, someone - on the escalator to his right caught his eye. He glanced over, and saw two men standing together, one clearly on the step above the other, grinning at each other. Both looked tall, from what Julian could tell. The taller of the two had hair styled up high, shot through with magenta highlights. He was wearing navy skinny jeans and a stylish, fitted leather jacket that did everything for his shoulders and biceps, with a multitude of necklaces hanging around his neck, drawing Julian’s gaze unwillingly to where he had the top three buttons of his shirt undone.

The other man, in contrast, was more muted, his clothing somewhat unremarkable, although, Julian couldn’t help but notice, he was incredibly handsome.

But, irrespective of their attire (because frankly, it was London—everyone had seen far stranger things than a man with pink highlights and painted nails) Julian couldn’t help but notice the other glaringly obvious thing about them.

They were a couple.

One of those awful, gooey, sickeningly in love couples. The taller of the two had his arms around his boyfriend (boyfriend? partner? husband?), and they were both smiling at each other, laughing a little, watching each other with shining eyes, smiling so wide it made the skin around their eyes crinkle. The man with highlights leant forwards and pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s nose, before turning around to step of the escalator, and—

Oh. Okay. The man with highlights was actually slightly shorter than his partner, although he was still plenty tall enough to see over the gaggle of people in front of the couple to find whichever exist they were looking for.

Julian broke himself out of his staring just long enough to get off the escalator, feeling a little embarrassed. What was he doing, staring after random couples like that?

It was just… Well. They were so open, and so obvious, and they so very clearly didn’t care if anybody was going to give them a hard time, for being a same-sex couple or for being an interracial couple, and—

Well. It was sort of beautiful. And Julian wished he could be that fearless.

***

Working in a coffee shop, admittedly, hadn’t been his plan for when he’d left school. He’d been aiming for—

Well. He’d been aiming for having a blast at a university in London. Which he was. He just hadn’t factored in the need for a job, nor had he realised that for students, his options would be limited to three or four coffee shop chains, or McDonald’s.

But, still, he didn’t really mind. Especially not when his shift coincided with Alex’s.

It was almost two o'clock, just after the lunchtime rush of city workers coming in to grab their midday caffeine fix and a sandwich before they hurried off back to their next offices, when the door opened, and two people fell in, laughing.

Julian looked up from where he was standing washing up some of the blenders, because Alex was across the room, cleaning up the crap people had left on their tables, and did a double-take when he saw the pair.

It was the couple he’d seen this morning, at the station. They were hand-in-hand, the taller of the two carrying a silky scarf that Julian would have bet his entire day’s wages belonged to his boyfriend. It wasn’t that cold outside, considering it was only March, but there was a healthy glow to the both of them.

Julian wondered whether it was because they’d been walking around the city for a few hours, or because they’d been here together.

“Well, hello,” the man with highlights said, blinking at Julian. American, Julian thought, although there was a hint of something else. He tugged his boyfriend forwards, and leant an arm against the countertop, a smile on his face. Julian had to swallow down his nervous embarrassment.

“Magnus,” the other man chastised him, rolling his eyes. “You’re shameless.”

“I’m not being serious,” the man - Magnus - said, assuring Julian or his boyfriend, Julian didn’t know.

Then he caught sight of Magnus’ hand, and felt his chest tighten. Not boyfriend. Husband. That was unmistakably a wedding band on his finger.

“Although I might be,” he added, appraising Julian with slightly narrowed eyes, as though he could see right through to his soul. “If you weren’t sixteen, and I wasn’t married.”

“Oh my god,” his husband muttered, closing his eyes and letting out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m never going wine-tasting with you again. I’m so sorry,” he added, to Julian.

Julian was about to make a somewhat-bewildered dismissal, because the whole situation was a little odd, but not at all unpleasant, when Alex cut in from across the shop.

“He’s eighteen, and he really doesn’t mind!”

Magnus’ lips twitched upwards. “Could we get a vanilla latte and a black americano, please?”

Julian rang up their order for them, and Magnus swiped a sleek black credit card, and then he set about making their drinks. The other customers in the shop seemed utterly unfazed by Magnus’ unusual - although very tasteful - sense of style, nor by the fact that the two had their arms around each other.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t noticed anybody at the station paying them the time of day, either.

Julian tried not to listen to their conversation as he made their drinks, but it was a little hard not to be curious when Magnus sighed, loudly, and said, “Alec.”

“Don’t Alec me.”

“I’m just saying. I’m right.”

“How can you possibly know that?” Alec demanded.

Julian cut their conversation short, when he handed them their drinks, and tried not to catch their eyes for too long. He was simultaneously too awed and too embarrassed for any more eye contact than was necessary.

The couple spent the duration of the visit sitting drinking their coffee at one of the tables in the corner perfectly innocuously, chatting intermittently and scrolling through their phones, turning the screens to each other and reacting to whatever was on the screen.

They had their fingers intertwined across the table the entire time.

When they left, Magnus dropped him a smile that was oddly sympathetic, and Alec nodded to him, tossing out a “thanks” over his shoulder as they walked out.

***

It wasn’t until the end of their shift, when he and Alex were closing up the shop for the day and finishing up to make sure things were set for the following morning, when Alex brought the couple - and Julian’s affectedness - up.

“You could do that, you know,” Alex told him, leaning against the counter with his sleeves rolled up and his phone in hand. His eyes, though, were on Julian, who was in the process of putting away the last mugs.

“What are you talking about?” Julian asked, although he was perfectly aware.

“That couple, today. You could do that. Nobody would care.”

Julian paused, and straightened, glancing over to meet Alex’s gaze. “Yeah. I– I don’t think I realised how little people really do care. I’m just not that brave, I guess.”

“They looked pretty seasoned,” Alex said, flicking his bangs back with a nonchalant toss of his head. “You could be that brave. You just need some practise.”

Julian bit his lip. “With you?”

Alex, for once, looked momentarily surprised. He blinked. “Pardon?”

Julian’s heart was hammering in his chest, but something about seeing two men - two married men - holding hands and giggling together and flirting and being so blatantly out and proud in public made him want to do something reckless. Something… Well. Something brave.

“Practise. With you?”

One side of Alex’s mouth curled up. “Yeah, alright. Why not? Practise with me.”

Julian exhaled in relief, and Alex let out a little laugh.

“You done, there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well.” Alex smiled. “If you want practise, there’s no time like the present. I’ve always wanted to actually go in the Chinese place at the end of the street, rather than just walk past and salivate.”

Alex held out and hand, wiggling his fingers, and Julian stared at it for a moment, glancing between the proffered hand and Alex’s face a little doubtfully.

“Really?” he asked, because god, it seemed to good to be true.

“Really,” Alex said, and Julian took his hand.

***

Across the city, in a hotel room seven floors up, Alec lay sprawled across Magnus’ chest in bed, the sheets tangled around their legs, while fingers raked through his hair.

“I know I’m right, darling, there’s really no good in arguing,” Magnus said, and Alec could hear the smirk in his voice without turning his head to check.

“I’m not arguing,” Alec replied. He was tracing random patterns over the hard planes of Magnus’s stomach, basking in the pleasant afterglow of beautiful, phenomenal sex. “I just don’t get how you can possibly know that he was gay.”

“I don’t. I just know he was attracted to boys.”

“Magnus, you know what I mean,” Alec said, rolling his eyes. “Stop being so pernickety.”

“I know, Alexander, because he kept staring at us, and he was embarrassed, and he couldn’t stop looking at these.”

A finger ran over Alec’s wedding ring, and, unbidden, a smile passed over Alec’s face. Yeah. That had happened. He was officially married to Magnus, as of three days ago, and fuck, if that wasn’t beautiful. God, he was so in love with Magnus Bane that he didn’t know how he could contain it all.

“He was embarrassed because you’re hot,” Alec said, bluntly. “And— Shit, you’re right.”

Magnus laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. Alec could feel it rumbling through his torso, and he thought that the sound of Magnus Bane laughing was possibly the most beautiful sound in the universe.

“Of course I’m right. And my hotness–” Magnus was smirking again “–was, of course, a contributing factor, but so was the fact that we’re together. Think about how you’d have felt if you were eighteen and saw two married men wandering around the Institute holding hands.”

“I’d have had an aneurism,” Alec said, and, sad as it was, it was probably true.

“That’s a rather alarming admission,” Magnus said, and when Alec tilted his head up to look at him, he did look a little bothered.

“Magnus—”

“I think we should go back to that coffee shop,” Magnus announced.

“You’re interfering,” Alec warned him. “Don’t start interfering.”

Magnus scoffed. “Give me some credit. I’m subtle. I just mean we should…expose a young man who loves men to the world of loving men. And how beautiful it is.”

Alec rolled his eyes, but he felt a smile tugging at his lips, because really, he’d married the snappiest, most gorgeous man alive, and he couldn’t have been happier.

“I love you,” he said, because he did, and because Magnus deserved to hear it, and because if he didn’t say it, he felt like he might burst with how much he felt it in his every cell.

Magnus’ eyes softened, and his fingers curled into the hair at the nape of Alec’s neck.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Alec pushed himself up on his elbow as Magnus leant forwards, and their lips met, softly, the world around them fading away and disappearing until it was only them, skin pressed together and hair brushing forehead, hands mapping across bodies.

Because love was beautiful. Loving someone, and being loved, was beautiful.

And every young person in the world, self-hating and in denial and terrified of who they wanted to love, deserved to know that.

#malecweek2017 #day 1 #malec #my fic #magnus bane #alec lightwood #alternative pov #this probably has tons of typos I'm sorry #writing tag

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