#GIRL WHO IS STACKING UP WHITE LIE AFTER WHITE LIE BECAUSE SHE CANNOT STAND THE IDEA OF WHO WAS

[shitpostingkats]

Cissnei in Rebirth is everything to me. The fact that she kept her promise. That fact that she is so haunted by the guilt of her failure. The fact that she's hiding from everyone who she is and her history with shinra. The fact that she's a terrible cook. The fact that she cannot bear to tell her newfound family that their son is dead and she can never take his place. The fact that she knows Cloud and tries to hide from him too. The fact that she never told Zack her real name and she could have gone anywhere, been anyone, but she chose to stay as Cissnei.

[andilovetowrite]

Initial Shyness(P.P x Reader)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Confessions are cute, right? Especially when you have been waiting for years to say it out loud. But what happens when the initial shyness wears off? And we all know Peter isn’t as innocent as he seems ;)

Warnings: Nothing but some unending fluff. Lots of Peter rambling and awkward kisses :)

Based on a request, you can find it here!

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)

“C’mon, you can do it!” hissed MJ from beside you. She pushed you toward’s Peter’s door, making you stumble. Still, you tried to hold back against MJ, who you realized, was freakishly strong.

“I can’t! Nope. No way.” You shook your head, crossing your arms. MJ sighed, probably too tired for your crap.

“Oh come on Y/N! I cannot hear another word about Peter again.”, she said, looking too serious.

“But-”

“Not one more word”

“I-”

“So what you are going to do is go into his room, go up to him, confess your feeling, and then kiss him.” She looked at you expectantly. “Am I clear?”

“Uh- just one component you are missing out on….I don’t have the balls to tell Peter I like him!”

MJ rolled her eyes, coming to stand next to you. “Yes, you don’t. And that’s why, I am really really sorry for what I am going to do next.” You didn’t even have time to figure out what she meant before you were pushed into Peter’s room harshly by Ned and MJ. As soon as most of you was inside, they shut the door behind you and you heard the door lock behind you.

“Oh COME ON!”, you said, trying to open the door.

“You know what to do!”, MJ said back, her voice muffled. You sighed, turning around to see Peter looking at you, a slight smile on his face. Oh, and what an amazing smile he had. His eyes crinkled, and small dimples showed up on his face. His pearly whites showed through his pink lips that you have dreame-

“Hey Y/N...what’s up?” Peter asked, snapping you out of your Peter-sized daydream.

“Huh-uh, so um- MJ just wanted some-uh alone time with- with uh Ned. Yeah”, you said, trying to think of anything other than the fact that you had a gigantic crush on your best friend.

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched up, confused. “Why would she want to talk to Ned?”

“Uh-um wanting to know something about uh-English…”

“Okay”, Peter said, drawing out the word. You could see he didn’t believe you so you did the most logical thing. A logical course of action that anybody in your situation would do. Lie.

“Well, she actually wanted me to show you something, um-on the roof”, you said, biting your lip, trying to figure out what to do once you got on the roof.

“Alright, let’s go!”, Peter said quickly, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it, feeling the warmth seep into your body and make it’s way up to your cheeks. You held on, knowing that this would be the last time if Peter didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

Jumping out the window, you let out a small yelp as Peter grabbed your waist, holding onto you tight as he pulled you two to the rooftop. Landing onto the ground, you held on for dear life, looking at Peter.

“Give me a warning next time! I thought you were going to chuck me out the window…”

“Oh please, then who would I have to annoy all the time?”, he asked teasingly. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in.

“Well, you would lose your best friend…”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t see the way Peter’s face contorted into a grimace as he looked down.

“Yeah, but not only my best friend but the coolest person in Queens!” You cracked a smile, a red tint making its way up to your neck as you heard him speak. “I mean, you are so damn smart and pretty...Not to mention, so badass. I mean, I saw how you elbowed Flash in the-”

“Okay, let’s not relive it” You interjected. Peter smiled at that, walking both of you over to the other side of the roof. “Where are we going?”, you asked, confused.

“Uh, so I just wanted to-uh. Just come and see this”, Peter said, scratching his head slightly. Not knowing what to do, you just followed him, hoping you would see what he was talking about. And you weren’t expecting this.

A plush rose blanket spread out across half of the roof, with rose petals thrown here and there. In the middle of it was a small picnic box, with food sticking out of it. You could see some books stacked in the corner and a couple pillows as well. The light reflected off the buildings around you, giving the entire space an orangish-pinkish glow. You were so engrossed in the spread, you didn’t even notice Peter shakily taking out a small bouquet of roses from behind him.

“Peter, wha-what is this?”, you asked, shocked.

Bringing out the roses, he held it out to you, a blush the same color as the flowers making it’s way up to both of your cheeks. “I-um, heard what you and uh MJ were talking about a-a couple um days ago. So-I uh decided to ask Mr Stark to help me out with thi-”

“Wait a second. Tony Stark helped you out with this?!”, you asked, shocked at why your dad would help Peter out with this small thing. I mean, it-he shouldn’t care so much about Peter’s best friend, right?

“Yeah-uh, so I um set this out for you, and asked MJ to help me get you in my roo-”

“MJ has been in on this?”, you asked, suddenly remembering how she and Peter had been talking discreetly a few days ago.

Peter just nodded, looking down as a dopey smile made it’s way to his face. You cleared your throat, trying to figure out what was happening. You weren’t dumb, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions to quickly.

“Why-why would yo-is this-uh”, you tried to speak, with little success. You could feel you face heat up in embarrassment, so you just stared at the flowers in Peter’s hands.

“I-uh really, um like you Y/N. Like more than a-a friend. And much more than a best friend. I know yo-you may not like me back, but I couldn’t keep it in any longe-”

You know it’s rude to interrupt someone when they are speaking. But you couldn’t hear anyother word come out of his mouth, because otherwise you would’ve melted. So you did the next best thing. You kissed him. Hard.

His words got caught in his throat as his lips met yours. And for a second you were worried you went too far, pulling back. But as soon as he felt you doing that, his hands went to your hair, pulling you flush against him, kissing you back with fevour.

You wish you could’ve stopped time. Right there. During a beautiful sunset, on the roof surrounded by rose petals, and with Peter in your arms. And in your mouth. But sadly, you needed air to breathe, so you pulled away, probably looking like a fish straight out of the water. Opening your eyes, you could see Peter’s face. His pupils were dilated and his entire face was a pink hue. His lips were plump and red, but pulled up in a lovesick smile.

You knew you had the exact same expression on your face. Smiling softly, you looked at Peter, and at the same time, you both said.

“I really like you”

“I really like you”

Giggling, you hesitantly took the crushed flowers from Peter, breathing them in.

“They got squashed”, Peter said, running his hands over the petals.

You shrugged, not caring. “Well, it wasn’t only your fault. I think it was a two-person thing..”, you said cheekily, smirking at Peter.

He laughed, throwing his arms over you and pulling you in for a hug. You breathed in his signature scent and melted against him, your heart full. It would’ve been perfect if not for the eruption of clapping and whistles from behind you.

“Wha-”

“GOOD JOB PETE!”, MJ yelled, running to the both of you, Ned and May close behind. Crashing into you, you laughed as she looked at Peter. “Better take care of her, got it?”

Peter nodded, kissing my cheek. And just as he did that, a flash went off fro next to you. “Nice job Underoos. Watch the lips though. Don’t get too close to my daughter.” Tony’s voice went through the air, making you jump.

“Dad?!”, you said, shocked.

“Mr Stark?!”

“Yes yes, I was spying on you. But at least I’m not like Nat and Thor. They have been circling the building for the last 15 minutes.”

Tony said, shrugging as he pointed to the sky, where you could see the two of them waving at you.

“Oh god”, you groaned, throwing your head back. Peter looked at you, white as a ghost, before giving a scared nod at your dad.

“Yes sir, I’ll be very-um-uh good to Y/N. I mea-she is uh so pretty-wait that’s not-uh and smart- but that’s not-,” he stuttered, eyes wide. Helping out the poor boy, you shooed everyone away.

“Bye, dad. Please take Nat and Thor home with you. We’ll be back soon”

“Not later than 11, got it? And remember Peter, hands to yourself.”

“Yes M-Mr Stark”

Giggling, you watched as everyone walked away, leaving you with Peter. “Sorry bout that”

“Oh, it’s fine. I got the girl of my dreams tonight. Nothing could beat that” Blushing you pulled him in for a short kiss, before hugging him tightly.

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

Wish you say that was the end of the story. That you both lived happily ever after. But sadly, with a group of friends and family, privacy was not the best. And you were very sorry to say that you scarred more people than you had hoped to scar in the next few months.

The first victim though was none other than Aunt May. And boy oh boy did she not look at you two for weeks after the incident.

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

Alright! This was really fun to write, and this is such a cute idea, so I kinda want to make this into a series where people walk in on Peter and Y/N, so let’s see where it goes. But the next part will be out in a couple of days once my exams end :) Also, on that note, wish me luck, since I have my math exam tomorrow. Anyway, until next time!

Taglist: @a--1--1--3 @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @ladykxxx08

[evera6234]

Gotham’s Salty WIP: Chapter II

CHAPTER I

RATING: T (Teen for cursing and stuff, this may change)

SUMMARY: 

Basically, the typical Daminette with a bit of lime and spice. Borderline crack fic bc i cant without humor. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes to Gotham whilst carrying three years worth of emotional baggage, what she does with it, we don't know. Does she lug it around? Probably. Does she kick it off a skyscraper? Not probable, but maybe. Does she use it to drop kick an unsuspecting liar. Most definitely.                ~~~> EDITED BY OLLIETHETURTLE ON AO3

Transferred from AO3. 

Lemme know if u wanna be tagged

   “Yeah, your signatures don’t line up…” says the man at the front desk. “You said your name was… Lila Rossi, right? I’m looking for a... Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

   “Present,” an amused Marinette announces.

   “No! There must have been a mistake. I personally talked to Brucie and his 4 sons, Jason Grayson, Tim Todd, Dick Drake and my precious Damibear!”

   “Yeah no. That 100% didn’t happen. 100%,” the somewhat peeved front desk attendant grins.

   “How dare you talk to Lila like that! What’s your name? Give me your manager's number!” Alya fumes in a french accent (A/N: total karen moment intentionally placed). 

   “My name is Andrew Winston, and my supervisor….”

   “Hey Andrew, what’s poppin!” says a voice. After observation one could say that said voice comes from a tall muscular man, with a white streak in his hair, wearing a leather jacket.

   “My blood vessels, Jason. My blood vessels. Why are you here? You weren’t supposed to be here today.”

    “Yeah, Dick broke his arm yesterday at home. He fell down the stairs. And since I am such an amazing brother, I decided that I would fill in for him today!”

   “You were forced,” concludes Andrew as he scratches out Lila’s name off the previously mentioned thicc stack of papers with a black marker. 

   “Yup.”

   “This is the class you are supposed to caddy around WE. And they seem to be a bit peeved right now.”

   Jason sighs, “Ok. what’s the issue…”

   “They are saying that Lila Rossi, here” Andrew points to Lila, then looks down at his notes “says she spoke to a Brucie, a Jason Grayson, a Tim Todd, a Dick Drake and her precious Damibear to set up this field trip. My info here says that a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng set this trip up but they don’t believe me.” Andrew nonchalantly continues “Speaking of which, Marinette please sign on all the starred lines. Lila and her friend already filled out everything else.”

   “Tim Todd!” Jason chokes. 

¬`

   The tour had slowed down in the corridors of Wayne Enterprises as Jason let the students go on a quick bathroom and water break. Lila had left for the bathroom, and it is safe to say that Marinette learnt her lesson to avoid bathroom confrontations with Lila. They were never fun, and right now she doesn’t think she can handle a wet shirt in winter. 

   “Really, Marinette. You take credit for all of Lila’s hard work,” says Kim passing by.

   “Do you have any idea how hard Lila worked on this, and you know she hardly has any time to spare.” Max pitches in. 

   “Yeah. Lila worked so fucking hard concocting the names Jason Grayson, Tim Todd and Dick Drake. Sounds like the revamped cast to The Three Stooges,” Chloe crackles giggling.

   “I sure wonder how Tim Todd and Jason Grayson are today? Are they well?” Marinette questions sarcastically.

   “Absolutely fucking amazing after hearing that!” Jason wheezes, overhearing the conversation. Jason gave Marinette a knowing look that confirmed an earlier inference. This Jason was Jason Todd. This was priceless. 

   Adrien’s eyes narrow on his angered face. “What was she doing.” “She promised to take the high road.” “She only needs me, I’m her best friend.” He watched the situation from a distance, unnoticed by Marinette. But as sly he is, he did not slip Jason’s radar. 

¬

   “So y’all, 1:30pm. That means, Lunch time!  Right and you’ll be at the cafeteria, I’ll be joining you guy in about 15 minutes. So fuel up. Remember to show your IDs, lunch is on the house! Bon appetit!” Jason cheerfully announced as bows dramatically (like actors at the end of a play) and he turns around.

   A bit into lunch Mrs. Bustier came up to Marinette and Chloe’s table. “Marinette, can I talk to you?” asks Mrs. Bustier. 

  “Can I come too, Mrs. Bustier?” asks Chloe suspiciously

   “No, Chloe. This is just in between Marinette and I, sorry.” Mrs. Bustier replies sternly.

   “It’s okay, Chloe. I’ll be fine,” reassured the ladybug holder, squeezing the bee holder’s hand.

   “Ok, fine. Let me know if something happens.” Then Chloe leans in to whisper to Marinette, “Audio record it, just in case.” Marinette nods. 

   “Ok, Mrs. Bustier. I’m coming!” replies the bluenette happily as she follows Mrs. Bustier away from the crowd. 

   Adrien, from his table with Nino, Alya and Lila watched, “Hey guys, I need to go to the bathroom,” he said before standing up.

¬

  “Marinette you should be setting an example for the class. What you did today, making fun of Lila was wrong,” Mrs. Bustier frowned. “You of all people know Lila's condition and you should be more accepting of her.” Disappointed, Mrs. Bustier continues, “I expect you to apologize to her before we head back to the hotel.”

   “With all respect, no thank you. I will not apologize for my actions,” Marinette sternly begins. “Does the school have any medical record of her illness?” Marinette asks. “Why should I allow her to take credit for my hard work? And why do I have to be the model student who is obligated to be kind to everyone, when no one ever is to me?” Marinette, now more frustrated than before, questions the teacher. She felt a storm of emotion begin to stir. 

   “Because you are the class representative! It is your responsibility to lead the class with your example! Lila is a student with needs, she needs to feel accepted by all her classmates and it is your job to fulfill her needs.”

   “I’m sorry Mrs. Bustier, but sometimes I can’t shove a square in a circle. Sometimes I can’t do things. Lila is lying, and I can’t lie with her. I will not lie.i will not pretend to like her. And why must I be responsible for all the students in class, but receive no respect for it. Receive nothing but hate and insults. How is that fair for me?” Tears begin to collect in Marinette’s eyes. Mrs. Bustier, for the longest time, has been one of Marinette’s favourite teachers. The fact that right now Mrs. Bustier, couldn’t give less of a shit about her feeling hurt. 

   “I understand but what about Lila’s feelings? I cannot let you bully Lila. You are being selfish right now, I never thought you could act like this. I am disappointed in you.” Mrs. Bustier finishes as she walks away. 

   “What about MY feelings. What about me, what’s so wrong with me being selfish every once in a while. Have you ever looked into my family’s bullying complaints against Lila? What about me?” Marinette cries  desperately, as Mrs. Bustier walks away. “Why is everyone ignoring me?”

   “The real question here is, why are you ignoring me?” growled a voice from behind Marinette. “I thought you promised me to take the high road.” Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes who’s talking to her. 

   “I never promised, Adrien. Not once. I can’t keep silent and alone for longer.”

   “You are not alone, you have me. And I even LET you talk with Chloe.”

   “Yes, I have Chloe and thank you your majesty for letting me communicate with another human being. And no, Adrien I do not have you,” Marinette raises her voice. “Lila has you, you only talk to me in secret. You let Lila lie, you let her hang off your pretty model arms when she wills. You are and were never on my side.”

   “So you really are jealous?”

   Marinette, delirious with anger frustration, her voice laced with contempt, “No, never.” 

   He looks down at Marinette and smiles “Stop lying Marinette.” 

   “I’m not.” Adrien looks back at Marinette, as if he knows something as he too stalks away. “I’M NOT!” Marinette yells. 

¬

   “So she said that she talked to Brucie, Jason Grayson, Tim Todd, a Dick Drake and her precious Damibear!” Jason nearly on his side from laughing too hard. 

   “DAMIBEAR!” Tim howled in laughter, with his hands wrapped around his torso to somehow hold his ribcage together. Both brother’s are laughing their asses off in Tim’s office.

   “I KNOW!”

   “Are we gonna tell him?” Tim begins to ask before he interrupts himself, “No! We are not. What we are going to do is call him that and let him figure it out, sooner or later he will meet the class and when he does…”

   Jason let the scenario Tim described play in his head, “YES! You now speak my wavelength, to be honest maybe Lila wasn’t lying. You may be a Todd.”

   “No fucking way am I one. By the way, you should check on the class, how long has it been since you left them?”

   “Shit! Twenty minutes! Farewell, dear Replacement.”

   “Have fun, report back on any juicy lies, specifically ones about sweet baby Damibear or even Brucie.” 

¬

   “What the fuck was that?” thought Jason as he heard two people arguing in a secluded hallway, “Marinette?” he thought when he saw the girl, immediately putting a name to the face. But he didn’t know the boy. Jason whipped out his phone and quickly took a picture of the situation, making sure to get a clear shot of the boy’s face. For research purposes.

Gunz Blazin: Hey Tim Todd

Gunz Blazin:  Can you gimme a background check for this guy 

(*attaches a cropped image of the mystery boy’s face*) 

Boy Wonder: ???Tim Todd???

Replacement: I gotchu fam. 

Boy Wonder: ???fam???

Boy Wonder: ???

Boy Wonder: Can I be a Todd too

Replacement: No you're a Drake 

   Jason heard a voice coming from behind him, “That’s Adrien Agreste.” 

   Jason turns his head to look at the boy again and hears more of the conversation. He turns back and she’s a tall-ish blonde girl with blue eyes. “You are? Marinette’s friend?”

   “Yes.”

   “And he is not Marinette’s friend?”

   “He absolutely is not Marinette’s friend. He’s the ass-hat who thinks he owns Marinette. Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?”

   “Yes.”

   “What if I just break his nose a little.” (Requested by Ollietheturtle, my new dear editor)

   “As an employee of Wayne Enterprises, I’m supposed to say no, but in all honestly I kinda wanna do that myself…”

¬

TAG LIST: @jeminiikrystal @demonicbusiness @i-am-ironic @woe-is-me0 @miracleofadisaster @clumsy-owl-4178 @onmywaytoloveyou

[florencwrites]

all is fair in love〚dreamwastaken〛

in which clay cannot help but desperately promise himself that she will remember him

part 2

"She doesn't know my name, George." A frustrated sigh escaped his lips, almost closer to a huff than a sigh, honestly. His left hand ran over his face, a slight tremble detectable in his movements. His other hand held his phone close to his cheek, both the other sides of the line staying silent.

Hesitation on his breath, George spoke up again, leaving a few seconds for his response, just offering some time for his friend to calm down. "She will, Dream."

"You don't know that." The blonde immediately retorted, rolling his eyes at his friend's pathetic attempt of making him feel better. "Doctor said it could take years."

"Dude, you've been in love with this girl for years, when she didn't even know you existed at all," Sapnap interjected, somehow trying to relieve the tension by cracking a light joke. "I'm sure it'll work out again."

"Took her years to like me back." Clay chuckled, "I was obsessed." His mind was clouded by pictures of her, of them together. When they were just little kids, littering the streets for hours trying to find an agenda. Their teen years, how he hadn't been able to muster up the courage to ask her to prom, for years in a row. Her cheeky smile, expressive eyebrows, and those eyes he loved that much, those eyes that had been shut closed for days now. Fuck, he ran another hand over his face, up through his locks, he would never let her out of his sight again. Not when shit like this happened when he wasn't around. He'd never forgive himself for it, never let himself live it down. His eyebrows folded in agony, once again entirely overtaken by the idea of her not getting better, never becoming her old self anymore.

"Oh, we know, Dream." A slight chuckle breathed through his words, "She's so cute, Nick, AH! She let me hold her hand!" He mimicked his friend with a higher tone of voice, the brit quickly joining in, "GEORGE! She added me back! I'm so pathetically in love with her, George."

"I hate you guys." His voice sounded meek, soft, vulnerable. He loved them with all his heart, always knowing how to lift his mood, how to comfort him when he needed them to. "Thank you, for -uh- everything."

"Yeah dude, of course." Nick's smile was shining through his voice, audible even through the wacky discord call. George kept silent, but it was clear; they'd always be there to help him get through whatever it was, for however long it was needed.

It took three months, two weeks and several days for him to get her to smile again, a few more days after that for a laugh, God knows he could use it. The glint that once occupied her gaze had now retaken its deserved place in her eyes again after all, her eyebrows finally dancing with her expressions once again. A few days ago, she'd even let him hold her hand while they watched TLC on the tiny little television in her hospital room. He'd bugged her about buying her a bigger one every time he came by, which was practically every day, now that he thought about it.

His friends understood that he couldn't join their streams as often as before, they still offered him a spot in their Jackbox lobby every time, and Wilbur took it to himself to make sure he was never left out of the script, even if he bailed on them more often than not. It killed George especially, to see his friend like this, barely eating, sleeping all the time he wasn't spending sitting by her bed. He realized he'd never worried more about anyone than he did about Clay those hazy months. His own channels were suffering greatly, too, but that wasn't even close to being on his mind.

"Hi there." Clay waved slightly, wiggling his fingers nervously as he opened the door to her room. His eyes glanced to hers, a faint smile on her features as she muttered out a greeting. His gaze flickered through the room. He remembered first coming here those weeks ago, the deadly white walls that caged him into his own mind, the panic that wouldn't leave his veins, no matter what he did. He'd sat there for hours, the nurses having to send him home every single day. The lack of personal items making him greatly uncomfortable. Gradually he would take more and more decorations into her room, starting with some flowers, bringing in several stacks of plushies a little later. George, Nick, and Darryl had decided to get together and get her a Switch, naturally, Darryl had convinced them to get the new Animal Crossing for her. Clay decided to throw in some Mario Kart, more for himself than his comatose girlfriend. Then, the news broke on Twitter, and the drawings flooded his PO box, the one he now apparently shared with her. Pictures upon pictures hung on her walls, he even went as far as getting her Christmas lights above her bed, some photos of their childhood, too. At this moment, her eyes had yet to see the light of day since her accident, he did it all in complete silence, perhaps a small part of him didn't just do it for her, but to calm his own nerves a little, too.

But now, she was back. She played his dumb games with him, joked about his awful stubble, and thus, let him hold her hand, too. God, how he had missed the warmth of her fingers with his, anytime she'd let him touch her, shivers ran through his body; goosebumps covering the entirety of his skin. She'd loved the games they had collected for her over the course of these months, playing them daily. And even though she had no idea who these incredibly attentive people were, she knew she cared about them greatly. She'd asked Clay about them several times, even going as far as recording a short voice memo, thanking them for everything they'd done for her and Clay together.

"How've you been?" His mellow voice made her senses tingle, familiarity had settled for a few days now, anytime he spoke she'd get flashes of warmth, radiating through her abdomen. He didn't know this, of course, because what if it was nothing? What if she just set him up for heartbreak once again?

But he, he didn't care. His heart ached for her when they were together, but even more so when they were not. He couldn't help but feel pity for himself some of these days, realizing how pathetic it must look for everyone around him, how often he had sat beside her bed without a single affirmation of recognition, of progress. How often he had interrupted his friends' calls, absolutely heaving with sobs, weeping for it to end, for it all to end. How often he had sat down on the freezing tiles of his shower, trying to drown out his thoughts, especially after the days he wasn't able to drag himself out of bed. The days he had wanted anything but to stay confined to his fucking sheets, the days all he wanted was for her to softly whisper his name, exactly in the way she used to do. The way she'd done when he was playing with her, fucking around, she'd whisper his name in the most loving way he had ever heard a woman do. Her voice was a song he couldn't get out of his head, no matter what melody was playing in the background; she was all that was ever on his mind. All he wanted was for it to fucking end.

That changed, of course, the day she'd finally awoken from her outrageous slumber, the day her pupils met his. Nothing but confusion and utter fear laced in them, he was so thankful for any form of life, he hadn't even noticed what her eyes were really telling him. Her melodic voice filled his ears, bound to echo through his head for the rest of the day, the least. "I've been better."

"That's good, that's good." His toothy smile subconsciously earned her one, too. "You, uh, you watched that show I mentioned?"

"I did!" Her fucking smile made all of it worth it, all his pain and suffering, all he had endured. It had always been just about her and her fucking smile, all along. Since they were children, he reckoned, he hadn't cared about anything as much as he cared about being the one to tug up the corners of her lips.

A hearty chuckle left his lips, his hand slowly hovering over the side of the bed as he finally wrapped her hand in his again, this time her being the one to interlock their fingers. He smiled. "You said," He dropped his head as a giggle escaped him, "You always used to say how you'd give your life to be able to watch it again, like -uh- like it was the first time."

A low hum vibrated through her chest as she tried to hold in her snickers. "You're telling me I almost went braindead for fucking Teen Wolf?" She burst out in hiccuped laughs, trashing her legs around imperceptibly under the scratchy hospital covers. "I need to get my priorities right this time around."

His stomach tightened at her words, she'd always told him about how much she hated that stupid show, but for some reason he always caught her coming back to it any time she felt even the slightest nudge of sadness. Braindead. She was minutes away from being braindead, unsalvageable. His eyebrows furrowed, and he was sure to be subconsciously squeezing her hand a little too much. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to break the unspoken barrier he had set for himself; don't let her see you cry. "Hey, hey, hey. I'm still here."

She tugged at his hand, offering him her other one as well. He took it, obviously unable to refuse any contact she offered him. He hung over her body a little as he held both of her hands, she pulled his far most one delicately, silently asking for him to stand. And as soon as he did, she pulled him down in a hug, completely engulfing the entirety of his body in hers, only their clothes and the uncomfortable sheets separating them. She wrapped her arms as tightly around him as she could as his soft sobs slowly started filling up the room. The silence was overwhelming, only his whimpers there to break through. Her eyes welled up, too, she'd lie if she said they didn't. He was holding her, wrapping his arms underneath her back, not planning on letting go anytime soon. "I'm still here, Clay."

"Are you?" He muttered against the hoodie she was wearing, his hoodie he had given to her when she'd first woken up and complained about feeling like a lab rat in her stupid gown. He had stupidly told her he would marry her even in her blue-ish hospital gown, which was the most adoring, beautiful thing a man had ever told her, especially would she have recognized him at that time. Alas, he was just a man in her room, nothing more nothing less. "Are you really?"

"I-" She stumbled on her line, completely sure of what it was he was fronting at. "I will be." She decided, "I will be soon."

"I'll wait for however long it takes." His shuddered breath made the hairs in her neck stand up straight against her skin. She closed her eyes, her face still plastered in the crook of his neck, his cologne taking over her senses, his warmth being able to make her feel safer than she had ever felt before. Her voice hadn't ever sounded as painfully vulnerable as it did that second, "It wouldn't be fair -you, for me.." A heavy breath. "It wouldn't be fair for me to expect that from you."

He hushed her gently, another sniffle leaving his nose immediately after. "All is fair in love."

[kelelamentia]

Plant Charming

Plant Charming

 Because I want to add to Marinette’s growing list of admirers.

@ozmav

 On a street in Paris:

 A male figure stood.

“She’s here, I hope I don’t scare her.” He walked toward a very specific bakery.

  On Marinette’s balcony:

 Marinette was tending to her garden; watering and weeding, and just enjoying here flowers.  This was something Lila and her class couldn’t take from her; just like designing, it gave her some peace of mind.  Tikki was flying around the flowers like she was dancing, when she stopped.

“Marinette I’m going inside to eat some cookies, would you to come?” Tikki asked.

“No thanks Tikki, I want to stay out here a bit longer.”

“Okay Marinette have fun.” With that Tikki disappeared down the hatch.

Marinette was left alone with her garden.  As she went about her business Marinette was singing a soft tune, never noticing a large vine growing until a voice came.

“My, what a lovely voice.” Marinette turned around, almost throwing her watering can, and saw a boy about her age standing on a large vine. “Hello, are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

He had long red hair that just reached past his shoulders in a pony tail, green eyes and pale skin. He wore a white buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms, a pair of nice light blue jeans, and some brown loafers.

“Y-Yes, I am, who are you?” Was he an Akuma, Marinette wondered?

“I am Emmanuel ‘Mandrake’ Isley; but you can call me Manny, I am the son of Gotham’s Poison Ivy and I’m here to thank you.” Manny greeted giving a slight bow to Marinette.

Marinette was put high alert as soon as he said ‘Poison Ivy’; he was much more dangerous than an Akuma, but him wanting to say ‘thank you’ through her off.

“Thank me?” she asked.

“Yes, you remember your trip to Gotham?”

Marinette nodded yes.

“So, you remember how you organized the mass clean up of Gotham’s parks; when no one else would, after my Mother and a few others went on a rampage?”

“I didn’t plan it alone, I had friends helping me.” Marinette informed.

Manny just nodded his head.

“True, the Wayne family helped, but you were that driving force weren’t you; you even managed to set up a better recycling system for Gotham’s park’s, and that’s more than my Mother has ever done and for that I says thank you.”

“You don’t sound like you’re happy with your mother…” Marinette commented.

“She is my Mother and to some degree I do love her,” Manny sighed, “And I share her love of plants and her idea of eco friendly things, but with the way she handles her reaction to pollution and litter; it is a miracle that the people of Gotham aren’t terrified of going green.”

Manny stood up straight and Marinette in the eye; still standing on the vine and said.

“So please, Marinette don’t be afraid of me.  I am not my Mother; I plan to help the green movement the right way.”

He sounded so pure in his intentions, so Marinette was willing to give him a benefit of a doubt.

“It’s nice to meet you Manny.” Marinette smiled “I’m Marinette, but I guess you already knew that…”

“You just a lovely bloom, aren’t you?” Manny laughed softly. “I wish I could say my intentions here were completely unselfish, but I was hoping I could have your help as well Marinette.”

“With what?” Marinette asked, tilting her head to the side.

“May come on to your balcony first?  This might be a long talk and my vine will likely attract some attention.” Manny made a gesture with his hand, indicating to her balcony and his vine.

“Oh! Sure!” Marinette was so used to Chat just coming on to balcony; into her space, that she never thought about anyone asking for her permission.

Manny thanked her as he hopped down; the vine receding from once it came.

“Thank you, lovely Marigold.”

Marinette blushed at the nick-name but did her best to focus.

“What would you like me to help with Manny?”

“Many things really, but todays goal would be to create a logo.” Manny admitted.

“You want to start your own awareness group?” Marinette asked.

“Yes, I want to do this the right way and I’ll start from the bottom up.”

They sat down on a bench Marinette had set up there to discuss what Manny wanted his logo to look like.  It was not a quick talk as Marinette keep giving new ideas and a outside perspective for Manny.  Eventually they came up with a logo for Manny to use and he had to leave.

“Please forgive me my lovely Marigold, but I must leave.”

“It’s fine Manny.”

“At least let me pay you.”

“No Manny, you’re starting from the ground up; with who you’re related to acting as an obstacle. Let this be my good luck gift to you.”

Manny gave Marinette a charming smile.

“You really a bloom amongst the weeds Marinette, at least let me give you this.” Manny reached out his hand over her flowers, after a moment a vine curled up and around his hand; creating a circlet.  After the circlet was complete flowers began to bloom; marigolds more accurately.

Once the flower crown was finished Manny placed gently it on Marinette’s head.

“For the lovely queen Marigold, to repay her kind heart.”

Marinette was blushing hard at Manny’s words.

Manny smiled once more at Marinette before walking to the edge of her roof, he got up on the railing and turned to face her.  With her attention on him he gave Marinette a wink and salute just before flipping off the roof saying.

“Adieu”

Then he was gone.

Marinette just stood there, she couldn’t believe what had just happened to her.

“Marinette?” A small voice sounded from the roof hatch.

Turned and went to her room.

“I’m sorry Tikki, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Tikki flew up and cuddled Marinette’s cheek.

“Its fine Marinette but that was a risk.”

“I know,” Marinette sighed, “But he didn’t feel dangerous.”

“He’s from Gotham, right? Maybe call Damian and ask about him.”

“That’s a good idea Tikki, I’ll do that.”

"Granted, you were going to call him no matter what, you miss him."

"That's true." Marinette nodded her head.

"Now if only you could ask him out."

"TIKKI!"

  Later with Damian when Marinette called:

 Marinette was on speaker phone with Damian and his family.

“Emmanuel ‘Mandrake’ Isley?  Yeah that’s Poison Ivy’s kid, but he doesn’t seem to want to follow in her foot steps; he even left Gotham, no one knew where he went until you called Marinette.” Tim explained, looking at a computer, not giving out any more information than what a normal civilian would know.

*Is he going to hurt anyone? *

“No, you’re in the clear on that one Mari.  He really doesn’t want to be like his Mother, he’s even been cleared by Batman…mostly.” Tim confirmed.

*That’s good; I’d hate to think that his kindness was all an act. *

“Kindness?” Damian asked.

*He asked for permission to jump onto my balcony and he wants to start his own ‘Go green’ campaign from the ground up. He came to me to get help with a logo, he was very much a gentleman the entire time. *

“That’s good to hear he didn’t try anything Marinette, promise to let us know if that changes; okay?” Dick said, watch Damian’s eye twitch in irritation.

*I promise, you guys will be the first to know. *

“Good.” Damian stated bluntly.

“Hey Short-Stack?” Jason asked. “How did he pay you for the logo?”

*I didn’t accept payment from him; even though he said he wanted to. He’s starting from the ground up with nothing to really back him besides his mother’s reputation, which isn’t a good thing. *

“That’s very kind of you Mari.”

*Thank you, Dick, but since he could pay me; he gave me a flower crown he grew right in front of me, it was very sweet. *

Dick, Jason and Tim were watching Damian start to seethe.

*And he seems to like calling me Marigold; that is what the flower crown was made of, actually. *

“How the h*ll did I miss the obvious nick-name!” Jason groaned, “It literally has the word ‘Mari’ in it.”

*Sorry Jason, but you won’t be able to use it now. *

Damian was starting to look apocalyptic and Dick and Tim were trying to keep him from exploding which Marinette was on the phone.

*I should go now; I have some homework to do before bed. *

“That’s I good idea Mari, it was great talking with you!” Dick chirped, while having his hands firmly on Damian’s shoulders.

*Night guys! Night Damian! *

“Night Marinette!” Was the group farewell.

Once the phone call was disconnected Jason decided it would be fun to take a few shots at Damian.

“Looks like Demon Spawn had some competition for Pixie-dusts attention.”

“Jason!” Dick scolded.

“He’s right you know, and Mandrake is apparently better at talking to people as well, the Brat is at a disadvantage.”

“Die Drake!” Damian launched himself at his brother.

“I’ll go ask Bruce to book a trip to Paris.” Dick sighed, walking out of the room, leave Tim and Damian brawling and Jason laughing.

  Next Day in Paris with Manny:

 Manny was in the park exercising another one his powers; talking to plants, he asked them about the lovely Marigold.

‘She’s sweet.’ They said.

‘She’s kind.’ They praised.

‘She’s hurting.’ They grieved.

“Hurting?” Manny asked.

They spoke of a liar; one of stories that were far too good to be true, of classmates with no common sense, and of a boy with false promises.

“This cannot be allowed to continue.” Manny murmured.

The plants told Manny of the liar’s favorite lie, one he would very good at exploiting.

“Thank you, my friends; this gives me chance to help Marigold remove the weeds in her life.” Manny looked towards the sky, “I should also make my intentions towards her clear, I would hate for her to misunderstand me.”

  After school with Marinette:

 Marinette was happy to rush out of school, but unfortunately Lila and her herd of sheep were right behind her.

“Prince Ali said we should get together soon again; apparently he misses me.” Lila was boasting about her green program with Prince Ali again, and the class was eating it up.

“You’re so lucky Lila.” Rose sighed.

“Girl you are something else.” Alya cheered.

Marinette rolled her eyes, a quick web search would be all it would take to debunk that lie, but if she were the one doing it, they would never even listen.  Since Marinette wasn’t watching where she was going, she bumped into someone at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette apologized, not looking at the persons face.

“Its fine Marigold, my plan was to ‘Bump’ into you anyway.”

Marinette shot up at the voice.

“Manny!” Marinette blinked in surprise, “What brings you here?”

“Why? Can’t I visit you Marigold?” Manny questioned, delivering a kiss to the back of Marinette’s hand making her blush.

As Marinette tried to stammer a reply, the class; Lila mostly, saw the scene.  They were surprised to see a handsome young man giving a kiss to Marinettte’s hand.  Lila was not about to allow Marinette to have any happiness.

“Hello there, are you new?” Lila asked, in a very fake sweet voice.

Manny only gave her a passing glance.

“Don’t mind me; I’m just here to talk Marigold about a ‘Go Green’ program.”

Lila thought this was perfect.

“I could help you; you know. I helped Prince Ali with a GLOBAL green program a couple years ago.”

Lila was wrong.

“Really?  What the name of the program?” Manny asked, now looking directly at Lila.

“N-Name?” Lila stuttered; she never came up with one.

“Yeah, the name; how else am I to look up and join your ‘Global’ program if I don’t know its name?” Manny inquired.

“Umm…I don’t remember it?” Lila tried.

“What? You don’t remember the name of your OWN program?”

Marinette was staring in awe at Manny; did he some how plan this?

“Well, I can get very busy…” Lila began, Manny never her finish.

“I suppose that is understandable, but a quick web search should clear everything up.  I mean there can only be only so many green programs Prince Ali is a part of.” Manny offered.

“To bad my phone died earlier, so I can’t do that right now.”

Lila was getting nervous, this conversation with this guy was drawing a crowd; normally something she would like, but he is poking holes in her story she wasn’t prepared for.  No one had thought about ‘joining’ her ‘green program’.

Alya ended up being Manny’s ally and Lila’s enemy.

“Don’t worry girl! I got your back!” Alya yelled, whipping out her phone.

After a couple a minutes Alya started frowning.

“What’s wrong Alya?” Rose asked.

“I went to Prince Ali’s website,” Alya started “But, there’s nothing about a green program there; any green program…”

The class looked over at Lila.

“H-He hasn’t had anyone update the site in a while.” Lila excused.

“In years?” Manny’s question came out more as a statement.

Marinette was quiet, watching as one of Lila’s biggest lies crumbled; other members of the class were now pulling out their phones to double check.  Why didn’t they do that when Marinette said she was lying?

“Why would you lie about that Lila?” Rose was near tears.

“I-I’m sorry,” Lila faked sniffed. “But I promise; I did meet Jagged Stone and traveled the world. I’ve even met the Wayne family, the youngest; Damian, just loves me!”

The class; ever the sheep, began to close in on Lila in admiration when a hard voice growled.

“I’ve never met you before in my life, you lying harpy!”

Everyone to see a very angry Damian Wayne; dressed in a polo shirt and some slacks.

“Damian!” Marinette cheered. “I didn’t know you were coming to Paris!”

“I wanted to surprise you Angel.” Damian faced Marinette with a smile, the complete opposite of what he was giving Lila, before turning back to the class. “Don’t EVER use my name; or that of my families, for your gain.  If I find out that you have continued along ridiculous tales, you will be hearing from the Wayne family lawyers.”

Lila was turning white in the face, well as white as her tan would allow her to be.

“Two very massive tales you’ve told have turned out to be lies; one of them being a few years old apparently.” Manny tutted.

“She probably has more lies she’s told; anyone who’s willing to tell such big lies always have multiple stories, I know the type.” Damian sneered.

“When you first started talking, I thought you were just a weed growing in the garden, but it is clear to me now that you are nothing but a slug; gnawing at the roots of plants, destroying them for your own nourishment.” Manny stated, shaking his head.

Damian turned to face the class.

“Did ANY of you check anything?”

The class looks sheepish.

“Disgusting; next she’ll be saying she knows Jagged Stone.” Damian turned his nose up at the class.

"Ah, it seems you missed that part.  She said that just before you got here." Manny informed.

"Really?" Damian said sarcastically. "How did she meet him?"

"She rescued his kitten from an airport runway, he even wrote a song about her!" Alya argued, deep down praying this was true.

Damian and Manny looked at Alya in disbelief.

"Oh God," Damian choked out. "Aren't you the supposed 'journalist'?  The creator of the 'Ladyblog’?  A quick search would have told you Jagged Stone never had a cat, he doesn't like them."

"Not to mention that civilians aren't allowed on runways." Manny chipped in.

"And did you really not ask Marinette?" Damian continued. "Someone who knows him PERSONALLY; as in HAS HIS NUMBER!"

"W-We forgot?" Alya tried, though it came out as more of a question.

"Forgot or chose to ignore?" Manny asked.

The class couldn’t give an answer that didn't sound bad.

"Okay, maybe Lila lied about meeting people, but she saved Max from losing an eye!" Alya insisted.

Damian was intrigued.

"How did she 'save' him?"

Lila winced, know what was about to be said sounded out right dumb.

"She kept a napkin from hitting his eye and cutting it out."

Alya looked very proud when she said that, but the looks she got from Damian and Manny, Marinette was just shaking her head, dimmed the pride she felt.

"A napkin?  She 'saved' him from a napkin?" Manny heard about this from the plants, but to hear it out loud was a different thing.

Damian had a look of horror on his face and turned to Marinette.

"Angel, I can't in good conscience let you continue going to this school, it lowers your IQ and removes common sense.  You are brilliant and I would never be able to live with myself if you lost that because of something that I could have helped you avoid."

"HEY!" the class out raged.

"He's right, you know." Manny defended. "Which one of you is Max?"

"I am." Max stepped forward and Manny took a good look at him.

"How is it possible to lose an eye to a NAPKIN?! And even if it were possible; you're wearing glasses, so you would have had protection from it in the first place!"

Max could only squirm in place at Manny’s statement.

“Right then,” Damian nodded his head. “Marinette will ask Father to transfer you to Gotham Academy. You will have nothing but the best for you there.”

“Damian, that’s very sweet of you to offer, but I couldn’t leave Paris and my parents just yet.” Marinette gently objected.

“She also wouldn’t be safe in Gotham Wayne,” Manny cut in. “Not to mention that Gotham Academy would do nothing to help her with her dream of being a designer.”

“Then I would be happy to help her to get into an art school in Paris Isley” Damian said, looking up schools on his phone. “Here is an excellent one Angel and it’s not too far from your home.”

“Guys please!  It is very sweet of you to offer, but I want to get in on my own merit; not because of who I know.”

Damian and Manny gave a soft look to Marinette.

“Of course Angel, it was rude of us to assume what you want.” Damian apologized.

“Forgive us Marigold?” Manny asked.

“I forgive you, but please try not to do it again; okay?” Marinette asked at the end.

“Promise.” They said in synchronise.

“Thank you.”

With the promise made Damian and Manny looked back at the class; who were on their phones trying, and failing, to find SOMETHING to support Lila.

They found nothing.

Marinette’s classmate’s felt horrible, what have they done...

“Marinette...” Alya started, but was cut off by the girl herself.

“No Alya, you could have done all this when I first said she was a liar 2 years ago; all of you could have, but you CHOSE not to because you liked her words better than the truth. So the way you’re feeling now is not my fault, it’s yours.”

Alya and a few others started to tear up.  Adrien tried to come to their rescue.

“Come on Marinette they feel bad enough as it is.”

“Again, that is their fault, not mine. Marinette stood strong, having long gotten over Adrien.

“But...”

“No, no ‘buts’’.  This has been a long time coming and now they’re facing the results of their actions. Part of the reason it’s this bad is because of you Adrien.”

Adrien jerked back like he was slapped, the class gasped.

“You were the one to say we shouldn’t expose her lies remember; because ‘They’re not hurting anyone’. It hurt me when I was sent the back without being allowed to give any input, it hurt me when my ‘friends’ just dismissed me as jealous until they needed something from me, it hurt me when you promised to have my back only to go back on it not a moment later.”

Adrien gulped, he didn’t want to believe what Marinette was saying.

“Lila could have been Akumatized...”

“I WAS NEARLY AKUMATIZED 6 TIMES YOU JERK!!!!!” Marinette finally yelled “Do really not care about my safety?!”

The entire class recoiled, 6 near misses, they could have encountered an Akumatized Marinette. Someone who’s smart and creative, someone who could give Ladybug a run for her money; and they almost had to face her.

“I...” Adrien started.

“NO!  No more fake apologies, no more false promises.  I’m no longer going to be this class’ doormat and scape goat, if you want something from now on; you have to earn it like a normal person!” Marinette finalized.

Marinette was panting after her rant; Damian wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“We should get you away from these people Angel; they are clearly bad for your health.”

Manny gently grabbed one of the fists she made during her rant and began trying to rub the tension out of it.

“Wayne is right Marigold, this much stress will cause you to wilt.”

They began leading Marinette away; back to her family’s bakery, not before throwing a hard glare back at the class.

The class watch the trio walk away, some with tears running down their faces, knowing they blown it with their Everyday Ladybug; all for some girl with pretty words and no proof.

  At Marinette’s Famliy Bakery:

All three people were sitting on Marinette’s balcony; the girl tired from her emotional outburst, was leaning on Damian’s should to her left and to her right Manny was playing with her fingers.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Marinette finally breathed.

“Don’t be Angel, you needed to let that out.” Damian comforted.

“There is no shame in expressing yourself Marigold.” Manny assured.

“Thank you Damian, Manny.”

They sat quietly for awhile before Damian asked a question.

“Were you truly nearly turned into that monster’s minion 6 times Angel?”

“...Yes” Came the hesitant answer.

“Why didn’t tell me Angel? My family and I would have done something!”

“I didn’t want to worry you or your family Damian.  Besides what could you have done?”

“A transfer of schools would have happened.” Damian admitted.

“Yes, because Gotham is a safe place.” Manny said sarcastically.

Damian shot him a look.

“Guys please don’t fight; I really don’t have the energy to keep up with you right now.” Marinette interrupted.

“Fine.” The boys agreed.

“Thank you.” Marinette sighed.

They stayed like until Marinette fell asleep.  That’s when a discussion started between the two young men.

“It seems we both like this lovely bloom.”

“I suppose it is to be expected, Marinette is an Angel.”

There was a brief pause.

“You shouldn’t be near her; your life is dangerous.” Damian started.

“And you should?  Your family is one of the biggest targets in Gotham.” Manny quipped back.

They were at a stalemate.

“You know,” Manny began. “Neither one of us is really gets to decide this.”

Damian reluctantly nodded his head.

“True and in the end, it is her happiness that matters, but it doesn’t mean I won’t try for her affections.”

“Then we understand each other Wayne.”

  The next day:

Marinette was walking into her classroom, on time for once, greeted by stares and silence.  She expected that, but what she didn’t expect was the large bouquet of flowers sitting on her desk.  It was beautiful, roses, lilies, snap dragons, marigolds all combined together.

Marinette walked up the stairs, becoming more aware of the looks she was getting with each step. Once she reached her desk Marinette saw a note, opening it; it read:

To the lovely Marigold,

May these flowers brighten your day, like your smile brightens mine.

Sincerely,

Manny.

Marinette couldn’t help but turn slightly pink, why did Manny have to do this?

“Hey girl, who’s it from?” Alya asked.

“That’s none of your concern Alya.” Marinette huffed, she couldn’t believe she was going to try and act like nothing had ever happen between them.

Alya flinched, but backed down, the teacher came in and the lesson began.

Time flew by rather quickly and soon it was after lunch and everyone was returning to their classrooms, only when Marinette walked in there was a second surprise waiting for her.

There sitting on her desk, beside the flowers, were three bags.  Upon opening them Marinette learned the bags contained various pieces of high-quality fabric; again, there was a note.

To my beloved Angel,

I hope this helps bring your dreams into creation.

Yours truly,

Damian.

Marinette turned a bright red; she knew Damian was a sweet heart.

“Marinette, who is it from?” Adrien asked this time.

“Again, its not any of your concern.” Marinette stated.

Adrien didn’t seem ready to back down, but the teacher came and started class again.

 After class:

Marinette was making her way down the front steps, gifts in hand, with Adrien close behind her.

“Marinette, those things…”

She stopped him before he got any farther.

“These are gifts Adrien; you have no say in them, and I didn’t ask the people gifting them to do so during school.  That was their own decision.  And if you try to make it seem like this my plan to make the others feel bad you will be leaving with a limp.”

Adrien took a couple steps away from Marinette hearing that.

“None of this is my fault Adrien, it’s Lila’s.  All she had to do was not lie and be a decent person and none of this would have happened, but I suppose it’s a good thing she did lie.  She just proved to me how little I meant to you or the class outside what I can do for you and guess what?  I decided I deserve better friends and partners.”

Marinette’s rant was firm, not loud, but Adrien felt like it was shouted next to his ear.

A slow clap from behind Marinette reached them, they turned and saw Damian.

“Well put Angel, but I feel it was a little understated; you deserve the world in my opinion.”

“Damian!” Marinette greeted. “I wasn’t expecting you here!”

“I came to help get you home, I didn’t want my gift and you school items to drag you down.” Damian said, walking over to her, he glanced at the flowers she was holding as well. “Though it seems I’m not the only one who thought you deserved a gift.”

“Apparently…” Marinette trailed off, unsure how to answer Damian.

“They are lovely though,” Damian admitted, grabbing a lily and placing it in Marinette’s hair; causing her to blush. “and I adore seeing you happy above all.”

“Damian.” Marinette sighed.

“I best be getting you home now Angel, unless there was something else you wanted to do before that?” Damian asked.

“No Damian, home sounds wonderful.” Marinette smiled.

Damian nodded his head and started leading Marinette to a car nearby.  He helped her place her gifts in the back and held open the passenger door for her to get in.  But, before the door closed Adrien heard Marinette ask.

“Damian, I have a great idea for a suit I would like to make you, would you like to see it?”

“I would love to Angel.”

Damian then closed the car door, got in on the other side and drove away; leaving Adrien standing at the school alone, with the understanding that he was not going to get his way.

The next several days were very similar, Marinette would find flowers on her desk from Manny in the morning and a range of gifts from Damian, from sewing supplies to some small pieces of jewelry.  Marinette was flattered, but she didn’t want material objects.

One day she finally got to meet with them in the park.

“Guys, this very sweet of you, but I don’t need all this.”

“We know that Marigold,” Manny said. “We want to do all of that though.”

“Indeed Angel,” Damian agreed. “like I said before, you deserve the world.”

“What am I going to do with you guys?” Marinette moaned, turning a bright red.

“Well…” Manny started. “There is something.”

“What?” Marinette asked.

“You can answer a question Marigold?” The red-haired boy asked.

“Sure.”

“Are you attracted to either one of us?  And if so, would you like to go on a date with that person?”

Marinette was stunned at Manny’s question, Damian saw this and explained.

“Angel, we both have feels for you and we both want you to be happy.  If you say ‘No’ to one or both of us we will back off.”

Marinette closed her eyes and took a deep breath, held it, and then released it.

“First of all, both of you are wonderful people, you respected me and stood up for me when I needed it, any person would be lucky to have a relationship with you.”

She turned to Manny.

“Manny you are charming and sweet, you have a wonderful dream and are well under way to achieving it, but I’m sorry; I’m not attracted to you.”

Manny gave a sad smile.

“I understand Marigold, may I still call you that?”

“You can Manny.” Marinette confirmed, nodding her head.

Marinette then turned to Damian.

“Damian you are a strong, kind (in your own way) and a driven individual.  Since I’ve met you, you’ve listened to my ideas, you’ve mdke me smile and you’ve challenged me to do my best.  I am attracted to Damian and I very like you as well, I have for a while, but I never worked up the nerve to ask you out.”

Marinette was blushing as she finished.

Damian was wide eyed in awe, Marinette; his Angel, liked him.  He could have asked her out sooner and she would have said yes!  He wasted so much time!

“You honor me Angel.” Damian said, placing a kiss on the back of her hand. “I promise to be the partner you deserve.”

Manny was still smiling sadly, but, like Damian said earlier, Marinette’s happiness and consent was the important part in all of this.

“Just be aware Wayne, you break her heart; I’ll break you.”

Damian looked Manny in the eye.

“If I break her heart, I’ll come find you so you can.”

“I’m glad we understand each other Wayne.” Manny turned to Marinette. “I think its time I move on from Paris Marigold, I have many ventures to take and more people to talk to.”

“Good luck Manny.” Marinette smiled.

Manny gave one last salute to Marinette before leaving.

Once he was out of sighted Marinette sighed.

“Why do I feel like I just chased him out of Paris.”

“You didn’t do that Angel,” Damian assured, wrapping his arms around her. “His plans for a good ‘Go green’ program involved him traveling around and talking to all that he could.”

“True,” Marinette agreed. “I hope he finds happiness though.”

“I’m sure he will Angel.” Damian nodded his head. “Now, would the lovely Angel Marinette accompany me on a date?”

Marinette giggled.

“I’d like that Damian.”

Marinette began guiding Damian to her favorite café for their first, and proper, date.

 End.

That was Pant Charming.

 Also

 Extra 1:

 Why there was no Akumas:

Hawkmoth – Go my Akuma darken their heart.

Butterfly - *Gets eaten by a strange Venus fly trap*

Hawkmoth – Right…Let’s try this again, go my Akuma darken…

Butterfly #2 - *Gets eaten by a strange Venus fly trap*

Hawkmoth - *Eye twitching* R-Right, third times the charm, go my…

Butterfly #3 - *Gets eaten by a strange Venus fly trap*

Hawkmoth – You know what? I think I’ll just stop for today.

  Extra 2:

 Mari - *Looking up new schools*

Tikki - *Looking over her shoulder* This is a nice Marinette.

Mari - *Nodding her head* Yeah it is, this is the one Damian was talking about.

Tikki – A new school will be good for you and it’s an art school, so you’ll have more subjects focusing on fashion.

Mari – Yeah and it will be nice to get away from that toxic class.  Just because they know Lila’s lying now, it doesn’t change what they did to me.

Tikki - *Angry* - They got away with a slap on the wrist if ask me.

Mari – Maybe, but I don’t think they would survive anything designed by you…or Damian…or Manny…or Damian’s family…

[cosmiclatte28]

TEMPO (Racer!reader x sehun, nct, exo) #5 end

yay you made it to the last chapter 

PREVIOUSLY 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 

Sehun furiously left her with big question mark. Well the man he saw over her shoulder was Luhan. And Sehun knows this whole drama was of course Luhan’s plan. Only Luhan in his family who knows about (y/n) and he clearly warns Sehun to not fall in love with her. But love is a burst of emotion we can’t control right?

Sehun reaches his apartment and sits down on the big sofa. He waits for Luhan to enter the room too. They need to talk.

After a good ten minutes, Luhan enters the room with his innocent angelic face.

“You’re back early! Usually you come back late.. how’s the lesson?” Luhan drops the groceries in the kitchen table and begins stacking them in the fridge.

“What is your plan? You play dirty behind me.” Sehun scowls.

“What do you mean? I’m only back from grocery shopping.” Luhan calmly replies while stacking the oranges.

“(Y/n)! You.. you told dad right to send her to the riding school?! I clearly saw the company’s name..” Sehun frustratedly yells.

“Isn’t it nice of me? That poor girl really wants to enroll in that nice school!”

“No Luhan. Your true intention is not helping her reach her dreams.” Sehun glares into his brother. He stood up from the sofa already and faces Luhan

“Don’t care what my intention was… it’s a mutualistic symbiosis! I get to save you from doing a big mistake, and that girl.. will pursue her dream!” Luhan fixes the shopping bag and walks with a can of cold beer.

“You really hate me don’t you?” Sehun balls his fist.

“Me? I love you so much that I am keeping you on the right track. Wake up Sehun you know she’s way out of your league.” The older man calmly chugs on his beer.

“Bold of you to assume I love her,” Sehun stutters.

“You clearly have hearts on your eyes whenever you talk about her or come back from a walk with her. And you’re stuttering honey. Trust me this is for the best. One day you’ll thank me.” Luhan brushes Sehun’s shoulder and opens his door. “Oh! Right she’s leaving soon .. in two days? You better send her off for the last time.” He winks and closes his door.

Furious, Sehun grabs his car keys and speeds up to the place where he can find her.

Sehun reaches her small apartment after 30 minutes drive. He parks his car and jogs to her floor. Well he gained her apartment address when she scored A in logarithm. The tall man reads the number in each door along the hallway. It’s his first visit and come to think of it he did not bring anything! He mumbles her room number and stops when he finds the room.

He presses the bell and waits. Now what should he say? He waits nervously on the front door and when he’s about to press the button again the door unlocks.

Sehun freezes in his spot and blood clearly drowns from his face. He looks white as a ghost!

“Kai?” Sehun finally found his soul back.

“Um.. (y/n) is inside.. I’ll call her..” Kai awkwardly greets him.

“Well.. I’m sorry if I bother the two of you..” Sehun is at the moment confused, surprised, mad, and heart broken.

“Who’s it?” (y/n) pops beside Kai, “Ah Sehun-ah! You’re here?” she sounds confused.

“I can leave..” Kai knows Sehun did not expect him here.

“Well, I can wait until you two are finished. (Y/n), I need to talk just two of us.. I’ll wait in the minimarket across the street.” Sehun brings his hand to his neck and walks away.

“Okay give me a moment.” She disappears behind the door, and Sehun slowly leave.

Just as Sehun has finished picking his drink and paying a box of cigarette, he sees (y/n) crossing the road from the distance. She looks okay despite Sehun’s sudden decision that afternoon to leave her alone and suddenly appears in front of her door.

The two teenagers take a sit on the place provided in the terrace. Sehun offers her a stick, which she gladly receive. They share the fire and sit in silent with blowing smokes.

“So.. what makes you drive all the way here?” She begins.

“I.. feel like it’s not good of me to leave you alone this afternoon. I just have a lot in my head.”

“Well you can share, I’m all ears.” She looks into his eyes.

Sehun stares back.. so.. this is the girl Kai’s dating now? Are they a thing?? Why is Kai in her room… and .. why Kai?!

“Before that.. congratulations.. I didn’t know you’re with someone already.” Sehun embarrassedly congratulates her.

She breaks into a loud laugh, “Wait.. I think you get that wrong. I’m not with Kai!”

Sehun’s face clearly shows relief and embarrassment. “Ah~ sorry.. why is he there?”

“He lost a bet.. he has to clean up my room.. promise it’s just that,” she raises two peace sign, “Anyways, what do you want to talk to me in private?”

Sehun hesitates “Don’t take the offer.”

(y/n) clearly looks flabbergasted and dejected “What do you mean Sehun?”

“I think.. it’s not suitable for you.. it’ll be too hard.” Sehun fiddles with his fingers. Bullshit, he knows she belongs in the track, and he knows if she’s trained well she may become a professional player.

There’s a silence. Clearly the air between them is thick.

“Is that what you see me as? You see me as someone weak and incompatible with the race track?” her voice shakes.

Sehun feels he made another wrong move, but he must stand to his ground.. she must not leave.

“그냥… you won’t make it.” He forces himself to speak those words. Maybe by telling the truth she will listen to him.

Sadly Sehun chose the wrong storyline.

“I won’t make it?! Yak! Oh Sehun.. who are you? You barely know me for three months and right when the golden opportunity comes to me… for me to accomplish my dream.. you out of the blue stopped me. Who do you think you are?” she clearly jumps two octaves.

“The world is cruel! They won’t choose you! You’ll probably leave the school after a month, coz you can’t stand it.. or your sponsor gave up on you.” Sehun spits out facts and probabilities. He knows he is a bastard for saying this to her, but Sehun knows the dirty game his family is willing to play.

“Sehun, I don’t know where things go wrong.. but you’re a real dick for doing this. Fine. If you don’t want me to go, you might simply leave me on my own. I don’t need your sugar coated attentions. Turns out this is the real you.” She hits the table and stares to anything other than me. Sound of hatred and annoyance is clearly recorded in my mind.

“Look.. I’m sorry.. my words are too harsh.. but.. I’m keeping you away from the danger.” Sehun tries to coax her.

“Fuck off Sehun. You made yourself clear. You don’t want me reaching my goals, but I made my decision and you made it even clear. I am leaving for my riding school. Bye Sehun, you don’t have to send me off. You’re the last thing I wanted to see.” She steps on her cigarette bud and leaves without sparing her last glance to me.

She crosses the road hurriedly and runs to her room. Sehun sits in silence watching his dream goes.

“Great Sehun.. you totally ruined it.” Sehun curses to himself. He cleans his mess and stops when a man sits beside him.

“Sehun-ah, it’s been a while..”

Sehun glances to his side, and holds his anger in. Why must this man appears in his life AGAIN.

“What?” Sehun spits short questions.

“Nothing.. just I saw you’re alone.. finished the talk quick eh?” Kai smirks.

“What do you need? I need to go home.”

“Ah right, babies should be home by ten. Right now it’s–“ kai glances to his watch –“ah I just need 5 minutes!”

“You’re pulling my nerves.” Sehun grits his teeth.

“Come back Sehun.” Kai smiles.

“Eh?”

“Come for a drink with us this Sunday. We miss you and did you know your friends are now quite close with us?” Kai raises his brow

Sunday is the day (y/n) is entering the school… Sehun ponders  well he knows that the boys are in the same group now.. and that doesn’t really matter for him at the moment.

“I’ll try to come..” Sehun answers.

“Nice-“ his phone rings and a message pops.

“I’ll leave first. (Y/n) calls me to help her pack up. Bye Sehun.” Kai sounds mocking or is it because Sehun’s touchy?

Sehun stares at the apartment one last time, and he drives himself back home.

Luhan annoyingly welcomes his entrance.

“Ooff where are you from?”

“Not your business.”

“Ah someone’s heart broken… Relax Sehun, we can send her off this Sunday.. She will be excited I heard there’s a program where they send the top three to Italy and you know..” Luhan looks really annoying right now. Sehun wants to finish him then and there.

“Let’s hope she’s not in it.”

“We’ll see!” Luhan claps his hand and shows his smile.

--

Sehun cannot bring himself to send her off that Sunday. He locks himself home and in the end he sent a text message. Lying to (y/n) that he has to attend an important party he can’t miss, Sehun sent his warm regards through the text and (y/n) is not surprised. She expected it already; after all she knows Sehun and her are not meant to be. Their status are not the same.

Just like that, the friendship between them faded. Sehun forces himself to let her go and (y/n) is busy adjusting to the new school. She shares the struggles of training, socializing, and surviving to her team during the free nights where she can race. Her living area is only an hour drive to the track, that explains why she can still earn money from the wild racing. She tells them how the students who come from a rich family are using money powers, not real talents. She tells them how she survived the orientation week. Jaehyun knows his sister is a strong woman, she’ll overcome all hurdles in life. She seems to enjoy her program and has made her own goal. She looks happy as one can be, but her heart cannot lie about the missing part of her heart. Yes she misses Sehun so bad.

THE END 😭😭😭🎉🎉🎉🎉💖 THANKS FOR READING TIL THE END I LOVE YOU ALL !!

[tigriswolf]

poetry

so, i decided to go through my poetry on A03 and pull out my favorite lines. *shrugs* i’ve alphabetized, including articles, just because.

a minstrel new to the land / Stepped to the center of the fair, / Bowing to the priestesses and the nobles, / Proclaiming, “A marvel I bring!” / He held aloft a gleaming harp / Pale as bone with golden strings and explained, / “A harp that itself sings!”

 A mile turns to two turns to three: / your shoulders loosen, / you can breathe.

 And all fell / Silent / from the / ground / to the / sky. // Time / stilled.

 And this is my swan song / My final dive across the sky / There’ll be no more curtains /The show is closin’ down / This is me goin’ goin’ gone /If you hear me at all, /Hear me sayin’ goodbye

 Anger / that scorches / Like a wind from the north

 Bones dot the riverbed, / With sharp bitemark scars.

 Croons the selkie: / For years I have waited / And now I cannot wait a moment more / I’ll kiss you this final time / First with my lips and then with this blade / This knife I’ve used to slice your fruit / Never have I felt stronger, husband, / Than when this blade kisses your throat / Choke on your own blood, husband, / Reach for me with those hands I hate / I am calm, husband, calm as the shallows / As breathing your last you collapse

 Don’t claim to be afraid / When all you want / Is to keep everything / The way it’s been / Since before this country / Had a name that’s always been a lie. // You’re not afraid.

 Don’t forget what can’t be forgotten / And do better than everyone / Who let all this happen, / Who stacked the tinder and lit the spark.

 Don’t leave your skin on land, / we caution our daughters. / Don’t trust in landfolk, / we warn our sons. / No one will fight for you, / we tell our children. / You must fight for yourself.

 Don’t tell me / someone somewhere / is a monster / and I should be grateful / because it’s not you.

 Every day without zombies is a good day. / (Right?) // Are we happy now? / Keep that smile on your face.

 every time I enter a building I analyze its / zombie apocalypse capabilities. /I am perpetually disappointed.

 Fare thee well, my love. / There is nowhere left to fall.

 flowers bloom to gentle rain / light glows from the deep / as your story is told / and told /and told again / the world warms in bitter heat

 For I am he, that Judas, / the one who kissed the king; / for I am he, Iscariot, / who only played the part set before me.

 Grief devours, digests, spits out / someone you don’t know but / who seems familiar, similar, / an echo, a distorted reflection, /a was become an is.

 Happiness is what you make, /What you build after you break.

 Have I ever been my own? / Caught in your lies, / tangled in your smile and your touch, /your toy when you think of me. // Your toy, / you toy—

 I am patient. I am quiet. / I am calm but there is a storm below the surface. / I wanted to endure. To move on. To forget you. /You should have let me.

 I bite my tongue / Because there’s a time and a place / And causing hurt is not my aim

 I could reach out to touch a horse’s flank— / The dapple gray, I think, / because he seems calm and the closest to me. // But my fingers touch only paint.

 I close my eyes / and I shut that door /I look like you / but I am not yours.

 I have found the final thing you will take from me.

 I hesitate at the thought of dialing 911 / And I’m a white woman. / I know there must be good cops out there. / Why aren’t they doing their jobs?

 I may be someone’s mother, / someone’s sister, daughter, aunt, niece. / Someone somewhere loves me / and maybe they’re like you— / But I’m myself and my own. / I breathe and I cry and I write and I sing; / I live and I love and I hate. / I’m my own before I’m anyone’s / and that’s enough.

 I painted you out of the walls. / You’re not welcome so don’t come ‘round. / We’ll talk here or not at all. 

 I remember never seeing who I thought I was / in the lessons, whatever the lesson was. / I remember how my mind wandered / because it couldn’t be contained / by those hypocritical walls, / by my peers who were never on the same page, / not even in the same book.

 I stand in the storm / so the world can grieve for me.

 I step away from the wall, / open my eyes, turn to continue on, / an entire museum to explore— / But I look back. / Years and a continent away, / I’m still looking back.

 I want to tell that girl I was / It’s alright, it’ll be alright, / you’re not wrong. / You’re not incomplete. / You’re not broken / and it’s not your fault / you don’t understand. / It’s not a problem to be fixed. / I want to tell that girl I was / Even when you’re almost thirty, /  you’re still looking for who you are / but you’ll get there, baby girl, / you’ll get there.  /  I want to tell her, / You’re not broken for what you can’t do /  And / You’re not broken for what you don’t feel / And / You’re not broken for what you don’t understand. / Baby girl, you’re not broken in the least.

 I wanted more, to eat it all. / And sometimes, I wish I had.

 "I went walking in the fruit garden," she told her husband, / "I saw this and it reminded me of you." / She held up the apple, shiny as freshly-spilled blood. / "Eat it with me," she murmured, biting in and pulling it away. / "Let it symbolize our love, shared and shared alike."

 I wish you luck but that’s the last thought I’ll grant you. 

 (i’d trade it all away / never sing again / if i could be in Mama’s arms / i’d trade it all away) // There is no young / No running, no sun /There is only us

 If I could go back there are things I would change / But meeting you, loving you I would keep the same / We were so young and so in love / So much of who I am I owe to us

 If I were a poem, I’d be the kind to break your heart.

 I’ll find my truth for myself / And I’ll be content / Because stories are what I know / And telling stories is what I do / And questioning in order to create / Is what I was born for

 I’m never going home to you / because wherever you are could never be my home.

 I’m not crying / I’m dying /Dying to say goodbye

 I’m not sure what I’ll miss more: / Who you actually were, / Who I thought you were, / Who I was with you, / Or who I thought I was when I loved you.

 In the / deep /dark / where no light has ever shone // there s h e rests // on a throne of tattered bone / remnants of a beast long gone

 In the dirt, I gave it all away

 Is happy something you work for / Or is it something that you are?

 It’s gonna be a good day, writing just for me, / writing just for me, and laughing, and smiling, / smiling so wide, / laughing so true // I burnt that poem I wrote you

 it’s not like i know anything else / it’s not like you’re owed anything less

 I’ve been questioning since I learned to speak

 Kingdoms need kings. / You never hear anything about queendoms.

 Let me start with this: // Your knowledge is not knowledge. / Your people are not people. / Why tell your story when I could tell mine?

 Mama, mama, can’t you hear? / Your demons are calling my name.

 My anger builds slowly / Beneath a placid surface of smiles and grace / And I will not be quiet / Because this is too much after too long

 My family thanked you, / when I was still strapped / to the hospital bed. / I never did. // You remember, don’t you? / I’ll never forget.

 My mother never told me to trust cops. / My father did, but he’s a white man.

 Never will I return, Stepmother / To my father’s house on the edge of town / Do you mourn my silly sister? / Do you finally regret all you’ve done / Now that I stand here, now that I’ve won? / I kiss my husband, the future king / And a golden tiara on my head gleams / I kiss my husband and soon, Stepmother/ Soon, Godmother, I shall be queen

 Once upon a time, there was a princess, / Prettiest girl in all the land. /Once upon a time, there was a monster / Who once upon a time had been a man.

 poison comes softly, / across the waves, / and whispers summon you. // whispers summoned you, / and now they summon me. / and the poison comes so softly.

 Remember— / Winter is cold, with / Lungs that freeze, / Fingers that tremble, / Bodies that tumble down into / Ravines with bones never found. // There are slavering wolves in the night, / Howling, growling, slavering wolves, / Hunting in the trees outside of town, /  Prowling in the streets outside the house. // Listen to the tale told through the ages: //No fae-given gift is ever not a curse.

 Remember, too, this: / there is a magic in grief / and a magic in violence / and always a magic in blood— // but the greatest magic is this: // the g i v i n g of life // and the // t a k i n g of it

 Shattered / tattered / scattered / spread across the bed / discarded on the floor / you take and take and take / i know it wasn't always this way

 She talks about the stories grandparents tell / She is a grandma herself / And all of the others nod and smile /Because they know exactly what she’s talking about

 Strike as you like, master clock, tick tock tick tock / But the magic shall not fade! / Here I dance with the prince / In garments so fine I’ve never seen their like / My silly sister sought to order me / And so it’s her I’ve chosen / She will waste away while the magic works / Exactly as I say!

  “Succulent cheeks,” the witch moaned, / adding oregano to the sauce; / a little more salt, a dash of paprika, / a thighbone for the flavor, / a splash of virgin’s blood to round it out— / “Delicious!” the witch declared, turning / to hold the spoon to the girl’s mouth, whose eyes / still teared, blood still smeared on her palms. / “Taste your brother, dear.”

 Take a look around, / see that for every difference, / there’s a similarity /and in the different, /there is familiarity.

 Tell me that we’ll still be friends / a hundred years from now, / if we’re both still alive. / Tell me that sisters are forever. / Tell me that even when you’re off on your / own, changing the world—you will, / I know you will—you’ll think of me / sometimes, you’ll remember our games, / the stories we wove, the songs we sang. / (Remember me, remember us, / sisters of soul and sisters of blood.)

 Tell them / Our blood is the same, /His and mine. /I spill it in splendor, /His flowing grace.

 Tell them / That when I die, / I will die in triumph.

 the bed’s cold even when you’re here

 The horses cannot stamp off the wall, / out of pigment and into the world.

 The tiara balances on a precipice / The scepter shatters on the stones / The throne rusts, covered by dust

 There are resurrected trees on my desk / At work

 There is so much I don’t remember / More I’ll never know / But I have her name /And her mitochondrial DNA /And I know she loved me so

 Thirty pieces, for his soul. / Thirty pieces, and they weren’t even gold.

 This is my body; / I’ll not break it for you.

 We laughed and loved in every room

 we were so hungry then / waiting for the sea to swallow us whole

 Where do you truly believe you’ll go when you die? / I’d bet my soul it’s not to Jesus / Because he’d be standing in Ferguson – / And it wouldn’t be on your side.

 You don’t get to ignore / The blood and the anguish / That led to this point, / Every last indignity / And every last lie. // I wonder: / Could even a hurricane wash this away?

 you’re crying. / stop crying. / it’s a dream. / you’ll wake up. // you haven’t woken up. / you’re not dreaming.

 Your name on my tongue / The way you laughed / How we danced / Our hearts beat in time / Our souls sang together / We stood in the sun and the storm / Promised swore made solemn vows / I memorized your freckles once / I’ve forgotten so much now /

 You never sang for me. / I listened through the wall, / catching what words I could. / I still have some, hidden behind the wallpaper. / I kept them, just in case. / You never came back for them, though, / just like you never came back for me.

 You remember the / burn from the / scars, from the // transformation of being / set aflame and / after somehow surviving.

 You told me a beautiful fairy tale / but I told you the same /and on the grave there is a name

[phoenixisstrange]

The Best Day Forever Chapter 1 (Edited)

But I am wrong. It begins with me, in a nice suburban house doing my own thing going about my day. I guess I live here? I don't know who I live with or if I live alone but I encounter neighbors and friends (I don't remember specific interactions). I don’t even know how I got this beautiful house OR what town it’s in. It’s like someone created me and my life, peppered in some aspects of my personality and memory and dropped me into it. So I wake up in my? bed. 

I wake up, make myself breakfast, and acquaint myself with my neighborhood. As if I haven’t lived here for quite some time-- judging off of the bills I have sitting on the counter waiting to be paid. I open the front door. It’s a big wooden door with a little window that has decorative iron bars encasing it. Whoever designed this house did a damn nice job. I admire my front door as if I’ve never seen it before. As I step out onto my front porch I am greeted by a symphony of wildlife and a beautiful panorama of the forest. This was an intentional design point of the house. The way the forest sits inside of the frame of my porch is so perfect that it must be deliberate. The facade of my house faces a dense forest but I do have neighbors on either side of my property. 

To the left I see a mother herding her 3 kids into her minivan, well trying at least. One of the kids is running around screaming; wearing only one flip flop on. The other kid has dropped her bookbag on the ground. The third sits strapped into the car quietly. “Brandy stop moving and put your damn flip flop on, we’re going to be late!” the mom corrals her child into the van. 

I chuckle and breathe in the crisp morning air as it mingles with the scent of my piping hot coffee. The house to the right is a bit smaller and nobody seems to be home. After I finish my coffee, I go back inside and look at my schedule. It’s my day off.

I text my girls, Iz and Cree to see what they’re up to. I guess they also live in the area. Whatever the area is. The girls arrive and we set up camp in my warmly-lit living room. A low-budget Netflix horror movie plays in the background as we sip our Rosé.

 “So how’s Carter?” I ask Iz.

 “He’s good, he’s interviewing for a job at a new dealership as a sales manager”

“Good for him, I wish him luck in all his managerial endeavors” I say with a little too much enthusiasm. 

“Phoenix---How’s your love life??” She did it. She asked the dreaded question.

“Heh, funny you should ask… You would probably have an easier time finding a human being on Mars than I would finding a lover. ” Wow, I’ve actually lost count of how many times I’ve answered that. Me? Jaded? Never. Just realistic. I have too much going on to focus on finding someone right now. That’s what I tell myself at night when the loneliness hits. 

“Unfortunately my lover either doesn’t exist or doesn’t want me.” I add. You can practically see my dignity leaving the room. 

“Sometimes you just gotta ride the wave alone...” Cree-- who appears to be catatonic on the couch-- mutters from beneath a blanket. 

“Facts” Iz and I say in unison.

We finish a bottle of wine and cook some ramen. I never eat Ramen, I can’t stand it. But Iz and Cree love it so I guess that’s why my cabinets are stacked with the stuff. Either that or I am preparing for the inevitable collapse of our organized society. In that case, I know for a fact that I won’t go hungry. There’s so many packets of chicken flavored instant noodles hiding in my cabinets that I could feed a tribe in the post apocalyptic world.

The fragrance of the salty noodles dances with the incense that burns in the living room. The sound of a woman being possessed by the devil blares from the tv speakers.

“Haven’t we watched this movie already?” Iz clearly isn’t into it. “Probably, but all Netflix horror movies are the same. They usually end up as white noise anyway.” 

“I like it.” Cree chimes in

“If Cree thinks it’s a good movie, then obviously it’s a good movie Iz.” Sarcasm. 

“Cree said Suicide Squad was her favorite movie. She cannot be trusted to judge a good movie!” 

“Everyone thought that movie was so bad but y’all just don’t appreciate good art.” Cree stands firmly by her decision.

The movie concludes with the predictable ending where the antagonist--who has succumbed to demonic possession-- is cleansed of evil through a dramatic exorcism. The entire house that the movie is set in is destroyed. This forces the traumatized family to move out of the beautiful home they recently purchased. The movie ends on a cliff-hanger where a new family moves into the very house--which has now been repaired--in hopes to start a life. Boring.

The girls leave at about 11 pm. I take a quick shower and pour myself a glass of seltzer. Nights like this are ideal for stargazing. Not a cloud in the sky and cool enough to have the windows open in the house. Apparently, I missed my mark. I open my door to a rather jarring sight. Expecting the usual chirping of the cicadas and a star speckled sky; I am met with a rising sun. The sky is not an 11 pm sky it’s a 6 am sky. I’m confused and kind of scared. My mind starts to race. How drunk did we get last night? It was just a few glasses of wine not enough to black out the entire fucking night. I text Cree and Iz. No response. I figure they’re sleeping. 

My phone says 5:47 am on Saturday, 7/23. My day off is Saturday, which would be the 23rd. Saturday was yesterday. I turn on the TV to verify the date and News 12 confirms my fear of today’s date, 7/23. The annual family cookout is being held tomorrow at the park. 4 pm sharp, don’t miss it! Did I skip work yesterday? No way, I would’ve gotten a call. My head is spinning at this point and I decide to lay down for a bit.

The sound of the news 12 anchorwoman echoes in my head. “This weekend is going to be a hot one. Anyone planning on traveling west towards the coast should take care to leave a little bit early because of heavy delays along all major highways.” 

I drift in and out of consciousness and finally give up. I’ve watched the sun rise through the skylight that is fixed above the couch. That big ball of fire has climbed straight into the center of the skylight. The big ball of fire is blinding me. The time is 8:30 according to my phone. I barely slept a wink. My mind was too busy trying to figure out if I was going batshit or if I was actually trapped in a temporal loop. I mean, that would be cool because then that would mean that time loops do exist but not cool because of the fact that I would be caught in one by myself. 

My phone buzzes to life with a message from Iz. “What are you talking about? Ladies night didn’t happen hunny.” I’m wigged. 

“Must’ve dreamt it! We need a night soon, hunnies.” I reply. 

“Ok Phoenix… This is the sitch, yesterday was Friday. You accidentally skipped work and today is Saturday. Wine night was just a dream because you have been missing Cree and Iz lately…” I am rambling to myself in the dark. Yes, that will spare my sanity. I drag myself off the couch since sleep isn’t happening. I step outside at around 9. Once again, the forest is roaring with life and so is the mother next door… 

“Brandy stop moving and put your damn flip flop on, we’re going to be late!”…. I need to leave.

I go to the store and begin piling snacks and random food items into my cart. It’s been a while since I’ve been food shopping so this is OK. 

“Ice cream and wine. Check.” I say to myself. Drink myself out of the loop. Yeah, that’ll work. I see this really cute girl staring intently at a box of Gushers. For a second, it’s as if my world isn’t imploding on itself and I’m just at the store looking at a beautiful girl I’d like to know. For some reason, she’s engrossed by these artificially flavored fruit snacks. It looks as if she’s deep in thought, something is on her mind so she is occupying the time with food shopping. She’s about my height; she’s got long and silky chocolate brown hair that’s pulled back into a messy bun. I realize that I’m staring at her with as much focus as she is at those Gushers. She feels my eyes and returns to reality, she glances at me. A subtle smirk spreads across her face as she looks me and my wine bottles up and down.

“The bigger the bottle the bigger the problem huh?” She jokes. 

“No bottle will solve this problem but at least it’ll make me forget about it.”

 She chuckles and walks away. I buy my wine bottles and go home to forget what day it is. 

Listen, I won’t lie, I like to party. I love day drinking. But cracking open a fresh bottle of wine the size of a bowling pin at 10 am by myself after realizing I may never live to see tomorrow is new for me. I can’t say I hate it. I sit on the couch. The News 12 anchor-bitch is still blabbering about the family cookout-- that is supposed to take place tomorrow-- too bad. I drunkenly type away on my laptop. Scouring the darkest corners of the internet to find out anything about time loops that exist outside of science fiction. Turns out, not many people who find themselves in my situation take to Reddit to write about it... I take notes from the Twilight Zone subreddit because at this point I’m desperate for answers. My quest for information bears no fruit. 

I did learn that a time loop is different from a causal loop, which would occur because of a previous event. My situation however, is anomalous and is unrelated to anything as far as I know. I’ve started a fresh note on my laptop titled “The Best Day Forever! :)).” This is where I dump everything I know about the situation. 

So far, I know that this loop resets but I don’t know the interval or the trigger. Things that I interact with seems to stay the same with the exception of people, they don’t remember our interactions. The coffee I made the first go around was still in the pot when I went for coffee round 2. People and things outside of my control reset as if they’re characters in a video game who have a script and a path. I begin thinking, dangerous thinking. 

“Why is this happening? Why to me?” I ask aloud as if someone is going to answer me. At this point, I wouldn’t be shocked if I got an answer from some omniscient voice. 

“What is the point of all of this?” I ask out loud again. Then I begin to think of everything I had done leading up to the moment I woke up on the morning of July 23rd the first time. My memory is extremely fogged, almost non-existent. I’m struggling to produce even the vaguest memory of anything that happened before Saturday. Was it raining yesterday? Did I even leave my house yesterday? I don't know. 

Come to think of it I don't remember much of anything before Saturday. I don’t know how I got this house. I don't know who Iz and Cree are except that we’re friends and have wine nights pretty often--though they have been less frequent for some reason. I don’t know Carter…But I do. 

It’s as if these memories were fabricated. I remember the facts. I, Phoenix, own this house in this pacific northwestern town and I am a barista at a local coffee shop. I moved to this town after graduating-- in hopes to pursue my dream of opening my own shop and building a house in the forest. Anything beyond that is smudged. I can make out the memory if I hyper-focus. But even then it’s just the blueprint of a life, details are scarce. I’m spiraling, existential crisis mode has initiated and now I’m just stressed out and drunk at 1 in the afternoon. I need air.

 I step outside and check my phone. The time is exactly 1:27 pm and a blue Subaru drives down my road with a big old husky hanging out the window living his best life. I start down the road towards the forest.

[scarletraven1001]

Besties

32 – “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

An AU Vegebul one-shot for prompt #32 on this post, requested by @heeyyy-macarena​ and @tsukisilverwolf​​.

Chapter Warning: Slight Angst; Fluff.

Also on Ao3. 

All Fics in this Series:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9

8-8-8-8-8

Note: This will be the last of my prompt fics for this particular set of prompts. I will probably add to this if I find other interesting prompts, but for now, this is the end. I hope you enjoyed all of the stories!

Please do watch out for my next fic, a multi-chapter story, that I will start posting very soon. Thank you for all of your kind words and support!

8-8-8-8-8

Besties

8-8-8-8-8

It hit Bulma so suddenly, that she actually gasped.

She was retelling a stupid joke that nobody else had ever laughed at, and Vegeta had looked strangely at her, shook his head, and started laughing.

He looked so relaxed, unlike his usual, stern self, and she realized that she had been holding her breath as she gazed at the way his cheeks had flushed with his glee.

And just like that, in less than the time it took for her to blink, she came to the unwelcome realization that she was in love with Vegeta.

She was in love with her best friend.

They had met when she was a freshman in university, and he a sophomore. She was sitting under the shade of a large tree in the square, and he had shown up, his dark, narrow eyes and shock of spiky dark hair considerably more threatening than his rather short stature. He unceremoniously dumped his things beside her and told her that she was in his “spot”.

He was surly but cute, sarcastic but extremely intelligent.

He was an Accounting major and she had been in Engineering, and they somehow bonded over their shared hatred for their General Education and Cognate courses.

They graduated in the same year, as Bulma had blown through her courses with ease, and both found work in the most prestigious robotics and automation firm in the country.

Right then, as they sat in the company cafeteria eating lunch, Bulma found herself facing the biggest dilemma she had ever faced since the day she met Vegeta six years ago.

“Oi. You alright?” he asked, taking in her ashen face as Bulma felt all the blood drain from her face.

“Oh, uh… yeah,” she lied, even as she truly did begin to feel lightheaded. She pushed her short blue hair back from her face, her sky-hued eyes dim with her unease. “Yeah, I just, uh… it’s hot. I feel woozy.”

“Do you want me to bring you to the clinic?” he asked, brows lowered in concern.

Her heart clenched.

It was exactly this sort of thing that had made her fall in love with him without her noticing.

“No, it’s fine, thank you Vegeta,” she whispered, shakily getting up as her mind tried to process what her heart had known for a very long time.

“Are you sure? You do not look well, Bulma. I could-”

“No, really, it’s ok,” she said, taking her purse with her s she decided to head back to her office. “Finish your lunch. I’ll be fine.”

He looked at her with naked worry in his eyes as she walked away, and she wanted to cry.

She… wasn’t ready for this.

It was a terrible thing, to be in love with Vegeta.

Not because he was a bad person, but because she knew that if she told him, and he did not feel the same way, her most cherished friendship with him would be over…

And she couldn’t lose him… that was the last thing she would ever want.

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma had never been good at being subtle, and she knew that sooner or later, Vegeta would catch up to her, corner her, and ask what was really bothering her.

She had been avoiding him.

It was extremely obvious.

It was so obvious, even her oblivious trainee, Chichi, had asked about it.

“Are you mad at Vegeta-san, Bulma-san?” Chichi asked innocently, and Bulma stiffened, raising her head to stare at the younger girl.

“Why do you think that, Chichi-san?” she asked, even as she roiled at the implication.

“Well,” Chichi said, eyes still on the stacks of reports that she was sorting for Bulma. “You both haven’t hung out here in the past week, you always leave just as he comes knockin’. Also, you’ve been out to lunch with the guys in Mech more often than him this past week. And you hate them.”

Leave it to Chichi, to put it so bluntly.

Bulma tried to quickly think of a way to divert the discussion. “Well, you and Goku from QM seem to be getting along fine.

Chichi blushed scarlet, and Bulma cheered internally as the demure young woman placed a hand against her chest, stuttering slightly as she answered.

“Yes, Bu-Bulma-san,” she smiled. “He-he asked me to dinner. We will go out on Saturday.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Bulma cheered, a genuine smile on her lips as she watched Chichi blush even redder. “I think you will make such a cute couple!”

“Ya think so, Bulma-san?”

“Yes! Absolu-”

“Bulma?” a rough, throaty voice cut her off mid-sentence, and Bulma turned startled eyes at the door, seeing Vegeta standing there with his hands crossed across his chest.

“Vegeta!” she exclaimed, flustered, as she worked to put a fake smile on her face.

“I need to talk to you,” he said without preamble.

“I’m busy right now-”

“At lunch?”

“I’m going with Chichi,” she said, startling the said girl, who looked up at her in surprise.

“After work, then,” he said, raising a hand to stop her as she stuttered out another excuse. “And do not even try to tell me that you have plans. It is Tuesday. You never go out on Tuesdays.”

He turned around and left without giving her a chance to speak, and she turned helplessly to Chichi, who just looked at her with sympathetic eyes.

Bulma sighed, slumping down into her chair, wondering how on earth she could avoid the inevitable confrontation.

8-8-8-8-8

It had become abundantly clear, that the confrontation was going to be unavoidable.

Bulma left her desk half an hour earlier than usual, only to run right into Vegeta a she tried to sneak out.

Her bestie of six years simply smirked, gesturing to let her through, as he calmly herded her out into the parking lot.

She groaned as she drove out into the road, watching his sleek, white sedan tailing her mercilessly, until she finally drove up to her small home.

Bulma took a deep, shaky breath, calming her nerves, her brilliant mind racing as she tried and failed to come up with an excuse as to why she had been so clearly running away from Vegeta for the past week.

A demanding knock on her car window woke her from her desperate musings, and with a final, hapless sigh, she left her car, heading into the house with Vegeta a bare few inches behind her.

She didn’t even get the chance to sit before her door slammed shut, and she jumped, turning to face the man whose mere presence had been wreaking havoc onto her senses.

“What,” he ground out, eyes narrowed in irritation, “is your problem?”

She tried to blink innocently at him. “Nothing!”

“Don’t you lie to me, woman!” he snarled, a hand reaching up to grasp her upper arm, and she nearly flinched even though his hold remained strangely gentle on her skin.

“I don’t have a problem, Vegeta, I swear!” she squeaked, only serving to infuriate him.

“You don’t have a problem?” he demanded. “Bulma, the whole damn company has been asking me why we are fighting, and if we are, then I am the last to know.”

“I’ve just been busy lately-”

“Bulma!” he shouted, and she stood stunned, staring into his furious, and strangely melancholy dark eyes. “Stop it! If I have done something to offend you, I need to know.”

“You didn’t do anything,” she said softly, a hand reaching out to touch his arm. “I swear.”

He gritted his teeth. “Then why,” he forced out, “have you been avoiding me.”

Her shoulders shook as she took a deep breath, mind in abject chaos as she tried her best to talk her way out of this situation.

She had just about come up with something, when he spoke again.

“I can’t have you running away from me, Bulma. You are my best friend...”

Best friend.

His best friend.

The words struck a painful chord within her, as she remembered the reason why she absolutely cannot tell him what her issue was.

However, her wounded heart worked faster than her brain, and before she could stop herself, she heard herself snarl out.

“Yes. We are total besties, aren’t we?”

He suddenly let go of her, hands raised in midair as if he had been burnt by the feel of her skin.

“Bulma… what?” he asked softly, voice hoarse in confusion. “Why are you doing this? I do not understand. What have I done wrong?”

Tears began to gather at the edges of Bulma’s eyes as the pained look in Vegeta’s finally dug deep into her heart, and she realized that she cannot… cannot, keep silent anymore.

He deserved to know.

And if he chose to abandon her after he learns of how she truly felt for him, then that was entirely his choice.

But Bulma had to tell him.

He was her best friend.

Her best friend, who had stuck with her through every frustrating exam week, listened to her rant about each failed prototype and every impossible experiment…

Who had lent her his shoulders and ears as she cried about her heartaches, breakups and self-doubts, and cheered her up by reminding her that she was worth much more than she often gave herself credit for.

He was her dearest friend… the man she loved…

He deserved nothing less than her honesty.

“Vegeta,” she said, and his eyes zoned into her hesitant eyes as she twisted her fingers together in her consternation. “I am going to tell you… something very important.”

He nodded, and she felt her eyes grow wet as her heart pounded in her ears.

This was it.

“I… I… You… You haven’t done anything wrong,” she choked, and she watched his eyes narrow in concentration, filling with worry as he began to realize the depths of her distress. “This… this is me. My fault. I’m sorry.”

“Why? What is the matter?”

She felt her throat seize up, every cell screaming at her to shut up, but she pushed on.

“I’m scared, Vegeta.”

He kept looking at her, unmoving. “Of what?”

She took a deep breath, gathering all of her strength into her voice, as she brokenly whispered.

“I am afraid, of how I feel for you,” she said. “I think I’m in love with you… and I’m terrified.”

He stiffened, and she closed her eyes, not willing to see the look on his face as he let her know of his rejection.

“You think you’re in love with me?” he rasped. “Well… that makes just one of us, then.”

The tears she had been valiantly holding back finally began to fall, and she shuddered as she felt the weight of her despair fall upon her shoulders.

“I knew it,” she thought. “He sees me as a friend… nothing more.”

Vegeta spoke again. “Because I do not think that I am in love with you.”

She clenched her eyes tighter, unable to believe how cold he was being.

It was too much…

She wanted to run from him, and she felt her feet begin to lift to turn away, when his voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

“I know I am.”

Her eyes popped open in shock, and she stared disbelievingly at him, as he moved forward, taking her numb hands in his as he tried to catch her eyes.

“I know I am in love with you, Bulma. And I am not terrified,” he said, gulping audibly as he spoke to her heart. “Because the woman I love is my best friend, and I know you would never hurt me. I am determined, now more than ever, to make you mine.”

Her tears fell faster, a shaky smile making its way onto her lips.

“Vegeta…” she whispered. “You mean it?”

He nodded. “I have always wanted you. Why do you think I even spoke to you that day under the tree?”

She laughed. She had always wondered about that as she grew to get to know him. He was never the type to initiate contact, and she had always found it strange that he approached her that time.

It finally made sense…

He grinned at her. “You need to stop fearing what you feel for me, woman. Because I am here for you. And if it were up to me, I always will be.”

And with those words, he leaned forward, taking her trembling lips with his, in their very first kiss…

The first, of what she knew, would be their eternity of kisses.

8-8-8-8-8

End

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[come-join-themurder]

Obsessive - Part 15

Breakfast and Doctor visits with Juicey boy as an escort, how fun! (This will be multi parts so check back for my next installment. As always, if you want to be notified of my updates just let me know and I will message you when I post new chapters) **Disclaimer: I do not suffer from OCD so I cannot begin to imagine what it is like. Any and everything that I am writing is what I’ve learned from people I know and the internet as well as asking advice from friends who know more about it than me. If anything is wrong or inaccurate of someone with OCD, please excuse my ignorance, as I said I am asking questions to help with the descriptions but I’m sure I will get something wrong eventually.

Juice Ortiz x Reader

(GIF isn’t mine)

____________________________

Breakfast was a semi-quiet affair, not much was said between the two of you because you were both buried deep in your own minds, thinking about the intruder the night before, and about the kiss you shared. Juice had decided as well not to bring up the person who had come into your room the night before, and instead decided to bring up the only other topic on the docket from last night.

He took a deep breath, setting his fork down on his plate of egg whites, toast, bacon and sausage, “(Y/N),” he spoke, causing you to look up from your short stack of pancakes, “Clay and Jax.... They-- well,” he paused to clear his throat and you raised your eyebrows, already knowing what he was attempting but secretly wanting him to struggle a bit before you helped him out, “I crossed a line, (Y/N),” he said finally, “Clay told me you were off limits. I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he looked down defeatedly. He knew deep down that last sentence was a lie, he had no regrets over kissing you, but he was terrified of what Clay would do if he found out.

You smirked, your nerves had left you once you finally got the kiss out of the way so you were much more daring, reaching out to place your hand on top of his. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, “I won’t tell if you won’t,” you smiled, your words causing the sides of his mouth to turn up as well, just slightly, but enough that you noticed. He nodded to you and you withdrew your hand, resuming breakfast and chattering idly as if the conversation and events prior never happened.

After breakfast, for which Juice paid even though you protested, he took you to St. Thomas to see Tara. You hated hospitals, the sterile smell, everyone looking alike in their mint green scrubs with white masks and coats, but you had to admit, having Juice by your side made you feel a lot better. Being seen with anyone wearing a reaper made you feel safe a secure, but even more so when you were with Juice. He had this quiet calm about him, he was always listening, quietly taking in his surroundings. Most of the time he could be in the same room with you, content to be in the background, and if it weren’t for the high profile haircut and head tattoos you’d never notice him. On top of that, he made you feel, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he would lay his life down on the line for you. He had always been that way, call it the closeness in age causing a bond to form, but you felt it even more now that you had been spending time together. You found Tara’s office and knocked on the door as Juice stood beside you.

Soon the door opened and you were face-to-face with Jax’s girlfriend, “Hi. Good morning,” she smiled warmly, stepping aside to allow you entry to her office, “Please, come in.”

You smiled back and walked in, turning around to see Juice standing at the door, “I’ll be right out here,” he spoke to you and you nodded to him as Tara shut the door.

Juice sighed, he could feel himself falling for you and he had no idea how to handle the situation he was in. Every time you looked at him, he got anxious and hyper-aware of everything he was doing, what he was wearing, how he was standing, even the look he wore on his face. Thinking about what he should do, he turned around to walk from the small indention of the hallway that Tara’s office door was tucked in, and into the main hallway to find a waiting room or chair to sit in, but he was so wrapped up in his own head that he walked right into another hospital visitor. He looked up to apologize to the person he ran into but they kept walking, only glancing back when they were a good distance away. Juice furrowed his brows before remembering who he was, the guy probably knew SAMCRO and didn’t want any trouble. He chuckled, amused at the idea that people he didn’t even know were afraid of him. It made him feel good to have people intimidated by him because inside the club he was probably the least feared. He shook his head and straightened his kutte, walking a few steps away to sit in one of the seats that shared a wall with Tara’s office, waiting for you to get done with the doctor.

“So,” Tara began as she turned to you from within her office, “I heard you had a bit of an accident involving a slippery kitchen floor?” she spoke. Staring blankly for a moment, trying to decode her question, you finally realized what she was saying. The Club obviously hadn’t told her how you ended up needing stitches, and you were guessing they intended on you continuing to keep that secret as well.

“Yeah…” you looked down, feigning embarrassment, as she stepped closer to you and placed a hand on your shoulder with a chuckle, “It’s okay, trust me that’s nowhere near the most embarrassing accident involving head wounds I’ve been involved in doctoring. Would you like to have a seat?” She motioned to the set of two chairs in front of her desk and you lowered yourself down into the one furthest from her office door, as she took her place in the other, studying the wound above your eye as she leaned forward. “I heard from Jax that you have a crush on the one outside,” she smiled. Was she attempting girl talk, or was this some sort of ruse that Jax had put her up to? You had to tread lightly with Tara, you knew her from when Jax was a teenager and you liked her then but you weren’t sure what type of adult she had grown to be since she had left and subsequently returned to Charming.

“Mhmm.” you smiled, trying your best to make it seem like just a childish crush.

“He’s definitely a cutie,” she said, lightly touching the skin around your stitches, “Anything going on between the two of you?” she questioned and you suddenly couldn’t play the game anymore, pulling away from her and narrowing your eyes, “Did Jax put you up to this?” you asked, a knowing grin on your face. “Sort of,” she began but paused, “Jax…. and Gemma too. I mean we are all curious, and I wasn’t going to tell them what you said,” she smiled, “Jax can be a little….overprotective… But Gemma seems eerily okay with it,” she paused again, thinking, before she spoke again, “I say if you like him you should let him know, and if he likes you too then… come out with it. Jax will get over it,” she smiled and you nodded as she stood up from her chair and took a breath.

“Stitches look good, Either come back to me in 3 days and I will take them out, or you can see Chibs and he can do it. I’ll give him a call and let him know as well,” she spoke opening the door and showing you out.

[slavicviking]

My Hero (ModernSoulmateAU)

As Astrid is about to find out herself, nothing goes as planned when Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third is involved.

CHAPTER 1: Misattributed (you can also read it here)

"You'll do just fine, honey."

Startled, Astrid Hofferson looks up from her notes, briefly catching sight of the person standing next to her. Her mother Ingrid looms over her and pushes the stack of crinkled papers away. They drag through a splatter of spilled milk causing the neat bullet points, meticulously written out with colorful markers, to smear in a few places. Astrid yanks the notes back towards her with a frown, shoving a spoonful of bland oatmeal into her mouth.

"I need to pass this," she answers curtly with her mouth full, her focus on the sheets of paper and nothing else. The sad truth is, is that no matter how long she stares at those notes, reading them over and over again, she still doesn't fully understand them. The equations and different formulas are all mixing and jumbling together in her brain, not making it any easier for her. The preparations for the exam devoured all of her free time, leaving her hunched over the book for hours after hours each day, and even so she had woken up early today, the day, to try and cram any more information possible into her already-swirling mind. She tries to convince herself that it will be worth in the end – that all the hard work will pay off. It has to.

Astrid doesn't fail. Simple as that.

"You will." Ingrid squeezes her daughter's upper arm reassuringly, trying to take Astrid's mind off of the upcoming exam. The girl grumbles something unintelligible under her breath, forcing herself to take another spoonful of food. The older blonde sighs with a shake of her head, though a gentle smile lingers on her lips at her beloved daughter.

"Good mornin'!" Sven Hofferson exclaims cheerfully as he walks into the spatial living room. He pecks his wife on the cheek, and then moves to ruffle his daughter's hair. Ignoring Astrid's protests as she immediately starts to fix her usual braid, he laughs quietly to himself and moves to the kitchen.

"What would my angel like for breakfast?" he calls out to Ingrid. The notes instantly forgotten, Astrid turns her full attention to her parents. She loves watching the two of them. She is by no means a romantic, but there is just something striking and absolutely heart-warming about their every-day interactions. There is this easiness and obvious love for each other, one that many couples can only wish of.

Astrid's nimble fingers move on their own as they weave in a small braid by her left ear before combining it with the rest of her usual hairdo. Sharp, blue eyes follow her mother as she heads to join her husband in the other room. Astrid can't help it when her gaze comes to rest on the beautiful set of wings upon her mother's back; it usually wanders there sooner or later. Pearly-white feathers shine in the warm rays of sunshine filtering into the room through the numerous windows. The wings bounce, open and fold up as her mother speaks. Astrid follows their movements with a careful, almost awed gaze. Ingrid shifts a little and her left wing hits the cupboard behind her, the expensive china dishes that no one ever uses shifting dangerously close to the edge. Astrid is about to jump up to try and rescue it when Ingrid notices it as well.

"Oh," she backs away slightly and places the china further away from the edge of the shelf. Her eyes meet Astrid's briefly and she shoots her an apologetic smile, a nervous chuckle escaping her as she does so. "I sometimes forget they're even there. And then this happens."

Astrid leans back into her chair, her shoulders less tense as the danger passes. She musters a somewhat-strained smile that fades the moment Ingrid turns away. Astrid cannot fathom the idea that her mother forgets about the wings. At all. It must be her mother's modesty; otherwise it simply doesn't make sense. They are the gift of the gods themselves, they brought her parents together – it's not something you simply forget about. Her mother, by protecting Astrid's future father from that huge avalanche years ago, was given the privilege of knowing who her soulmate was, and, as opposed to most people, she can be absolutely sure about it. Astrid is well aware of how much importance the wings hold. She is sure her mother does as well.

Back in middle school, right at the beginning of the year, her teacher had set an assignment. The students were asked to choose and present a person they admired the most, their role model. Eleven-year old Astrid hadn't thought twice before enthusiastically printing her mother's name on the top of the page. Words couldn't do justice to the respect and admiration she had, and has, for Ingrid Hofferson. She is her hero, the epitome of what she aspires to be when she grows up – then and now.

Ingrid Hofferson doesn't have an imposing posture. Despite her lithe frame and small height, smaller even than her daughter's, the confidence and determination radiating from the energetic woman is impossible to miss. Astrid knows that if she ever has the honor of knowing who her soulmate is, gods bless her, she will be the one with the wings. Just like her mother, she is no damsel in distress, and she does not need a hero to save her, or the day. She is independent and strong-willed, and no one will be able to take that away from her. The unfortunate stereotype of the guy saving the girl is ridiculous – Astrid swears it will never be her.

Ever.

She can see herself rescuing her soulmate from a raging fire, or perhaps a sudden car crash. Fearless and determined, she would do whatever it took to protect him. And he would look back at her with his bright emerald eyes, shining with admiration for her. His hair would still be windswept after she had hurriedly rescued him, and she would-

Astrid shakes her head abruptly, face heating up as she catches herself daydreaming and shoves the rest of her breakfast into her mouth. She skims through the notes once again, although her mind is involuntary miles away. Her phone buzzes impatiently in her pocket, but she ignores it. She doesn't have much time until she has to leave and whomever texted her can surely wait. Ten minutes later the blonde quickly tugs on her dark leather jacket and boots, pausing to give her Golden Retriever a quick belly rub, her own stomach tight with nerves. She has never failed an assignment or an exam before, and she hopes desperately that today's test will be no different.

Somehow she knows this day is not going to be a good one.

The bus ride passes in a blur as she unsuccessfully tries to relax. The ride is too loud and the people are too obnoxious, leaving her staring blankly out of the dirty window and wishing she were anywhere else instead. Her friends greet her once she finally reaches school but she responds absently, barely sparing them even a glance. Trudging through the masses of students, she arrives at her locker and pulls out her books almost mechanically. She grips her physics notes as if her life depended on it; and in her mind? They might as well. Her feet move on their own as she heads for the classroom.

"Astrid!" She stops abruptly, all the equations and rules she had been desperately repeating jumbling into one big mess. She nearly slams into a girl two years her junior that she recognizes from volleyball practice and her cheeks redden in embarrassment. The girl scurries away without a word and Astrid turns around, scowl on her face and ready to give the person a piece of her mind for shouting out her name like that.

The words die on her lips.

It's Hiccup. Of course it's him. She should have recognized his voice. The lanky seventeen-year old is too busy muttering apologies as he tries to get to her to notice her less than happy face. Hiccup, graceful as always, tries desperately to maneuver through the crowd of people and it ends up looking like an awkward dance of sorts. Astrid feels some of her anger disappearing, her eyebrows slowly lowering and softening as she observes his struggle. He's determined, she'll give him that.

"Astrid!" Hiccup exclaims as he finally reaches her, clearly proud of himself. She raises her eyebrow at him, hip cocked to the side and lips pursed, causing Hiccup's cheeks to turn unnaturally red. Astrid unintentionally notes how his freckles stand out more this way, adding some boyish, almost child-like, charm to his features. It's… captivating, in a way. "Hi Astrid, hey–"

"Hiccup." She cuts him off immediately because she knows that, if she lets him ramble like that, he will never get to the point. "What do you want?"

She realizes almost as the words leave her mouth that it came out rude and, even though she isn't usually one to care about being tactful, the way Hiccup's smile falls is enough to make her reconsider her approach.

"I have a test in a few minutes," she adds quickly, trying to somehow justify her previous harshness. His face softens a little and he reaches to the back of his neck, his other hand ready to start flying in the air as it always does.

"Right! Right… Sorry!" Just as predicted, his hand starts making animate, wild gestures as he speaks. His other hand joins in soon enough. "I-I just wanted to ask if you're still up for today? You didn't answer my text, the-the one I sent this morning, and… yeah, just… just wanted to make sure."

"Of course." She smiles at his awkwardness, fixing the bag on her shoulder. Some part of her feels guilty for purposely ignoring his message, and she can't quite understand why. It's not like they have been friends for that long; they aren't that close. Something tugs at her heart and she sighs.

It's cruel how easily people are misjudged. Hiccup had always been there, in the same middle school, the same high school, but they had never talked. To say she hadn't noticed him would be a straight-out lie. Because she had– just not in a favorable light. He was always late for classes, he never did his homework and, gods, don't even get her started on his sarcastic comments during class. He seemed to just… not care, and Astrid couldn't understand that (still can't, not really). She has always striven to be the best; and then there was Hiccup Haddock with his endless, sarcastic quips that no one asked for in the first place.

At the beginning of last year, Gobber the Belch, a counselors at their high school, had created a club that touched upon Berk's Viking heritage and the mysterious legends that surround the small town. Astrid didn't think much of it at first, but one experimental visit has been enough to suck her in. Fate would have it that Hiccup join the club as well. She had begun to get to know him better despite her initial misgivings, and found a shy, awkward boy that quite successfully hid behind the sarcasm. Astrid admits that he can be considered… cute, even, with his wide, intelligent eyes and crooked smile. They are friends now, sort of, and she's glad. He's a fun person to have around for sure.

(Ruffnut, Astrid and Hiccup's friend from the club, made the mistake to call it a crush once. A textbook that magically appeared out of nowhere and 'attacked' her stopped her teasing… for a whole five minutes.)

As a member of the Hairy Hooligans (it was that or the "Awesome Viking Club," thank the Thorston twins for that), Astrid has taken upon herself to help with creating weekly posters that will encourage other students to join in. No one else had bothered with even posting a schedule, and she was certain that if more students actually knew about it, they would find it as interesting as she has. Surprisingly enough, Hiccup has offered his help and, as her week was busy enough as it is, she agreed, letting out a silent sigh of relief. She enjoys working with him, probably more than she cares to admit.

"Meet me by the gym at three. Oh, and it would be great if you brought a computer. If not, we can use the one in the library." Astrid sends him her best winning smile, secretly enjoying the way Hiccup's face turns even redder.

"Right, sure." He nods vigorously, his messy hair bobbing up and down as well. A traitorous part of her wants to reach and ruffle it playfully– it looks so soft! But that would be weird. She doesn't need him to think she's weird. "I'll bring my laptop." The bell announcing the last five minutes of the break causes him to jump in surprise. He smiles sheepishly.

"I-I need to go. Good, uh, good luck. Not that you need it, but-"

"Thanks, Hiccup." She punches him on the shoulder lightly and smiles at his awkwardness. "See you at three, then."

She turns towards her classroom, shaking her head at the absolute goofball that is Hiccup Haddock. She can't help the smile that lingers on her lips. It's almost silly how one short conversation can brighten her mood as much as it did.

But the project and Hiccup will have to wait, as much as her mind would prefer to focus on them. Astrid reaches her classroom with a heavy sigh, knowing that the danger of failing for the first time in her life is looming precariously over her head. The second bell rings and she straightens her back.

"It's now or never," she mutters under her breath and enters the classroom. Ruffnut Thorston is sitting at the end, as usual, a pen shoved between her teeth as she chews on it in boredom. Astrid takes the empty spot beside her, throwing the other girl a quick glance. Ruffnut smirks at her, wiggling her thin eyebrows, and Astrid is pretty sure that the female twin had seen her and Hiccup in the corridor. Resisting the urge to punch that smirk off her face, Astrid takes out her notes to look through them one last, desperate time. Her eyes flick from one equation to another in a rush, numbers and symbols mixing together. If she had only gotten ten more minutes–

"Miss Hofferson!" Her head snaps upwards at the teacher's stern tone. "Please put everything that is not a pen back into your bag."

With a frown on her face, she does as she is asked, intuitively knowing that this was not going to go well.

Thor, just let her pass.

***

It's already well past three when she finally spots Hiccup rushing towards her, a black laptop case slung over his shoulder. His cheeks are bright red from all the running and, probably, embarrassment. Astrid pulls herself away from one of the walls of their school's gym with a roll of her eyes. She shoves a book into her bag, glad that she thought of bringing it with her because gods bless the day when Hiccup actually comes on time. She's not even angry at him – it's just who he is, and she's come to accept that… kind of.

It's oddly satisfying to see him flustered like this.

"I'm –uh," Hiccups stops himself to catch a breath. He leans over heavily with his hands on his thighs, holding up a finger. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, everyone – the most unathletic guy Astrid had ever known. She bites her lip to stop the laugh that threatens to escape. He finally straightens himself, his face even more flushed than before. "I'm sorry."

"You know, I kind of expected this to happen." She tries to sound angry, or at least irritated, but her mouth quirks upwards without her consent seeing him in this state. She folds her arms across her chest and looks away instead – he shouldn't be let off the hook right off the bat, after all.

"I-" He straightens himself and takes a deep breath before continuing. "Fishlegs called me. He, uh, had some problems with the data, you know, for our science project. Did I tell you about it? I think I did…" He pauses for a second. Astrid observes him from the side, quirking her head in amusement. "Anyway, some of the calculations seem to be wrong, but it doesn't look like anything major – just a calibration issue. We will have to reposition the- wait, why am I telling you this?"

"Because you're a huge dork?" Astrid proposes with a short laugh. Before Hiccup has a chance to retort, the blonde pulls him forward by the sleeve of his green shirt. "Come on, the poster won't make itself."

"Right," he nods quickly, fixing the strap of the black laptop case that had begun to slide off his arm. "But I'm not a dork."

"Mhmm." Astrid hums with a subtle roll of her eyes, letting go of the sleeve. She contemplates for a split second before colliding her fist with his shoulder. Hiccup stumbles awkwardly and his hand flies to cover the "wound."

"What was that for? You already punched me today." He grimaces as he rubs his arm.

"That's for being late. Again," she states with a smug smile. "And I didn't 'punch' you. It was a nudge at most." Big baby, she adds in her mind, mentally rolling her eyes at his "hurt" expression.

"Wha-? What's with all the violence?" Hiccup narrows his eyes at her with a small smile playing at his lips. Astrid snorts and crosses her arms over her chest.

"It's not violence. It's communication." She shrugs, adding speed to her pace. Her smile widens as she hears him laugh. Reaching the huge red-brick building that was Berk's only functioning library, she pushes the heavy wooden doors open and lets herself in. The old librarian greets her with the usual grimace and suspicious squint, as if she were going to destroy all the old books at any second. She ignores him. Mildew was known for such behavior and she is not moved by it anymore. Even the black, almost bare wings on his back don't attract her attention any longer. No one knows exactly what happened; rumors say something about rejection – but she doesn't care. Mildew is a sad, bitter man that probably brought it upon himself. The doors open once again, and the old man's hateful gaze is redirected to the person who just entered.

"Astrid?" Hiccup calls as he looks around the hall. "Where ar-"

"Shhhhhhhhhh." The old librarian presses a bony finger to his thin lips and glares at the lanky boy. Astrid holds a hand to her mouth in order to prevent laughing at Hiccup's startled and very confused expression. His eyes wander around and he calms noticeably once he spots the blonde. The librarian observes the boy warily as he quickly walks over to rejoin Astrid. Hiccup's eyebrows lower as he looks at him, somehow sadder, softer, and Astrid doesn't really understand why. The old man moves his scruffy jaw a little before speaking up in a rough voice. "No talkin' in the library."

Hiccup's green eyes widen without leaving the old man and he straightens himself.

"Right. I'm so-"

"Shhhhhhhhhhhh!" The librarian snaps again. Hiccup opens his mouth, but Astrid tugs him further into the depths of the musty library, not allowing him to anger the old man any more. She breezes through the rows of wooden bookshelves and finds her favorite spot. It's so far away from the entrance that no one will bother them, especially the old grump. Astrid falls into a chair with a thud, letting her bag slide to rest by her legs. Hiccup settles on the other side of a small, shabby table, letting out a somewhat-strained sigh.

"Gods, I thought he was going to kill me right then and there."

"He almost did, " Astrid responds with humor. Hiccup glares at her playfully in response and reaches to unpack his laptop.

"Well, you know me." He opens the computer so that she can't see him properly but she just knows he has that smug grin stupidly plastered across his face. "I love living on the edge."

He pushes the laptop between them so that they both have easy access to it, and Astrid rummages through her bag and pulls out some papers she prepared for the poster, throwing them onto the table. Looking up, she notices Hiccup staring at something behind her, a small frown on his face.

"What?" she asks as she turns around. Another one of those overly-colorful and glitter-doused prom posters is stuck crudely on the wall, almost completely covering the information about the genre of the books on the shelves nearby.

"The old man is gonna flip when he sees that."

"They're everywhere," she responds with a scowl.

"It's stupid," Hiccup says simply as he types in some information into his computer.

"Everyone is going anyway. No need to shove it into our faces." Her notes are completely unorganized and she starts to fish for those that will be needed.

"Not everyone."

"You're… not going?" She looks up from her notes. For some reason this new piece of information doesn't sit well with her. "Why?"

"Let me see – over-excited teenagers, most of whom I don't know, falsely happy teachers who wished they were anywhere but there, cliché, overplayed songs, and absolutely everything drowning in glitter." He pauses and nods at her. "Yeah, I think I'll pass."

He does have a point, Astrid admits with some reluctance.

"Well, I don't really have a choice," she sighs, focusing on her notes once again. "I'm the school's president – I have to go."

He only hums in response, although Astrid can clearly see he wants to say something. Hiccup is never one to obey the rules, or fill the quota, and she can only imagine he's eager to disagree with her statement. They are both silent, working on their own parts of the small project, and each stealing a glance at the other when they think the other isn't looking. They don't last long before a conversation breaks out and Astrid is glad. She always appreciated this easiness with which the two of them usually interact, at least outside of school.

That, and Hiccup can't keep his mouth shut for more than a few minutes.

Soon enough they are talking and laughing so loudly that the librarian has to come (which in itself is a feat) and throw them out, all the time muttering about disturbing his precious silence and kids these days. Astrid can't help the snort that escapes her when she sees Hiccup mimicking him behind his back. She has a feeling neither she nor Hiccup will be visiting the library any time soon.

She's still grinning like an idiot as they walk across the school's sport's field. Their shoulders bump into each other from time to time and she tries her best to ignore the warm feeling that passes through her body every time it happens. She blissfully ignores the other going-ons around them; some younger kids are playing volleyball on one side of the field and the other is occupied by the school's track team. It's loud but they can still hear each other clearly as they chat. Her eyes catch the watch on her wrist showing it's already nearly five o'clock and with a weird, tight feeling in her chest she realizes that she should be getting home.

It all happens in a blur.

"Astrid, look out!" Hiccup's nasal voice rings to her left and suddenly she is shoved against something soft and warm as she falls to the ground. Only seconds later she realizes that the soft thing was actually Hiccup, and it slowly dawns on her that they were somehow both lying on the ground, the lanky teen sprawled partly on top of her. Her cheeks flush with the realization. She's face to face with Hiccup who seems to be equally embarrassed, judging by the pink rapidly rising to his cheeks. A presumptuous "ooooooh, love on the battlefield" echoes from somewhere behind her, making her current predicament even worse. They both try their best to untangle themselves, and Astrid frowns at something blocking her view. She manages to prop herself up from behind just as Hiccup manages to clumsily stand.

Her heart stops upon what she sees.

Hiccup nearly falls backwards, new to the strange additional weight on his back. Astrid stares at them for a moment, unable to say anything. It can't be happening, it's not possible. As she silently gawks at the pearly-white set of wings resting upon Hiccup's back, the question of "how" rings in her head over and over again.

A weak "no" is the only thing that leaves her mouth.

Next chapter ->

(All of my writing)