#I get random thoughts like this at 5:00AM

[theyoungprinceling]

[So I was thinking about when Ling & Ed were fighting Envy in Gluttony's stomach, like one does, and when Ed is getting pulled up so Envy can chomp on him, I had a thought come up that hadn't before. Probably because I was thinking of the way Ling was begging for Ed to wake up--

Understandably, Ling is stressed and worried when Ed is being lifted up and about to be chomped on. That's his best friend next to Lan Fan and he's helpless watching this happen. And just a few hours prior to this, he was in the same position with Lan Fan. She almost died and he was helpless. Now it's happening again.

Of course Ling is as stressed as he is. He almost lost his childhood friend and now he's about to see his other best friend die. That's a lot to take in in just one day/night. Imagine how horrible he felt after Envy chomped and Ed was gone. He already has the guilt of not being able to protect Lan Fan. Now he "lost" Ed. That's another person he couldn't protect. Forget the fact that Envy can go after him next, Ling just keeps having the worst luck of watching the people he cares about get seriously injured and almost killed.]

[souperbloom]

the way things go. [A.I.]

title from the song the way things go by beebadoobee

ex boyfriend!ash

part 1 of 2 | random little post breakup angst.

a/n: i’ve never written anything like this so i thought i’d give it a try— let me know what you think :) there will be a part 2 but im still unsure of what direction to take this in so if you have any suggestions feel free to drop them in my inbox!

no major cws, just a brief mention of drinking & vibes. ☻

WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You around?

Sent. 2:58am

An odd buzzing from beneath your pillow stirred you awake from the deepest sleep you’ve had in weeks. Your phone buzzed once and just like that, you were awake? Couldn��t be. It had to have been some sort of sixth sense.

Call me. I miss you.

Sent. 2:59am

The silk pillowcase cradled your cheek as the buzzing continued. Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

Baby, please.

Sent. 2:59am

I miss you.

Sent. 2:59am

So much.

Sent. 3:00am

It wasn’t long before the incessant buzzing frustrated you to the point of reaching beneath your pillow and yanking your phone out from under it. The harsh light made your eyes water and burn, but the notifications on the screen made them ache even more.

ASHTON: 5 New Messages.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.

What was once a fluttering feeling in your chest, seeing his name sprawled across the screen, turned abruptly into agony. You didn’t think it would be so soon— him reaching out to you. It had been a month, almost to the day, since you and Ashton had called your three and a half year relationship quits. Things were serious enough to bring marriage into the question and suddenly, one random Tuesday night, it all came crashing down. He told you that it wasn’t you, that it was him, that it was the right person at the wrong time and all of the other painfully worn out cliches. To think that you even considered marrying him at all.

A crazy thought at three in the morning.

And even crazier when you thought about him texting you in the middle of the night. After a month of no contact.

have you been drinking?

Sent. 3:01 am

Your thumbs twiddle quickly and hit send, waiting for those three little deathly bubbles to pop up and confirm that no, you weren’t dreaming and yes, he was anxiously awaiting your reply.

ASHTON

Maybe. Maybe not.

Sent. 3:01am

His response makes you grumble; Ashton was absolutely insufferable— and even more so when inebriated. You didn’t want to deal with him right now, it was in your best interest to just ignore him and fight the thought of him right back to sleep.

But something inside of you wasn’t allowing this to be that easy.

go to bed.

Sent. 3:02am

ASHTON

Not until you’re in it.

Sent. 3:02am

that made no sense.

Sent. 3:02am

Why was it so difficult to put your phone down?

ASHTON

I don’t give a shit. I miss you.

Sent. 3:03am

You were far too tired to be entertaining his stupid desires at such an odd hour of the evening. The time was one thing, but the fact that he was drinking was an entirely new fish to fry. You knew that your actions had consequences, and those consequences were something you’d have to deal with in the morning.

stop texting me.

Sent. 3:04am

Maybe he��ll get the hint.

ASHTON

Come over?

Sent. 3:04am

Okay. Maybe not.

Your bottom lip had gone raw from the amount of biting you’d been doing to it recently, and it had yet to stop at all. It was a nervous habit you’d picked up after the breakup and you thought you were doing well at combating it by picking at your nail beds and twirling your hair— but now, these little ticks were coming out all at once.

You were a walking ball of nerves and haven’t been the same since that random Tuesday, almost a month ago.

no.

Sent. 3:05am

Look at you. Standing your ground. You were so proud of yourself.

ASHTON

Please?

Sent. 3:05am

fine.

Sent. 3:08am

Fuck.

The time it took for you to get yourself decent must’ve been some sort of world record. Because now, seemingly seconds later, you were in your car and hunched over your steering wheel. Taking deep breaths in as the cool leather pricked your balled up fists.

This fucking sucks.

You turned the key and the engine begrudgingly grumbled to a start. Even your car knew that this was a poor decision; sounding like it was about a five mile drive from completely giving up on you.

Lucky for you, Ashton’s house was only a mile away.

The dark winding road leading to Ashton’s driveway felt like an eternity. You were frigid at the thought of him sitting and waiting up for you, sitting on that deep mahogany leather couch with his head tossed back onto the cushions. His knee bobbing impatiently and the light of the TV making his face glow pale. A glass of whiskey, or whatever the fuck poison he picked nowadays, clutched in his hand and taking small sips until ice melted gradually and watered it down.

You hated how much you knew about him. How predictable he had become in your time being with him. You knew that whatever image your brain was conjuring up of him was probably true, down to the outfit he was wearing.

You didn’t bother texting him because you knew that the second his porch lights turned on, he’d be slouched against the doorframe waiting for you. As he always did. Your tires crunched against the gravel as you slowly pulled into his driveway; shaky hands and tired eyes working in tandem to park your car in the usual spot.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

The familiar voice pulls your gaze away from your slippers and just as expected, there he was.

His hair was a few inches longer, auburn and honeycomb waves colliding into a box-dyed mess. His roots were so much darker, after you had worked so hard on the touch ups and hours spent bent over the bathtub rinsing the bleach out to lighten his black dye job. All of that time was in vain.

There was an appropriate amount of stubble surrounding his cheeks, for the time you’d gone without seeing him. You were too busy admiring his face to notice that he was wearing the Keith Haring printed robe you had gifted him for Christmas.

You probably looked crazy.

“You asked me to come over,” you shrug, trying to make light of the situation.

“So… you came?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The tension rising was palpable, despite the tasteful three feet of distance between your bodies, and the only thing you could think about now was the way his mossy eyes sparkled beneath the porch lights.

“Well,” he breaks the silence with a chuckle, “Don’t just stand there. Come inside.”

You don’t say anything else after stepping over the threshold of the house you’d spent almost four years living in. Everything was the same. And you’d imagined it as so. To any normal person, a month wasn’t a terribly long time. But the time after a breakup all seems to mesh into one long day, since stepping into his house for the final time to grab your things felt like it was yesterday.

The guitars still mounted to the wall and decorated art pieces that hung to and fro reminded you of all of the effort you’d spent making this house into a home.

“Is Calum here?” you ask about his best friend and roommate, trying to pay attention to anything else in the room but him.

“Nope. He’s out.”

“Cool.”

Ashton moves around the living room with ease, unperturbed by your presence as he glides over to the connected kitchen. “Want a drink?”

“No. Don’t plan on crashing here, if that’s what you were expecting.”

He lets out a wry chuckle at your attempt to be stern, “I wasn’t expecting anything. Just— trying to be a polite host.”

“Yeah well,” you sigh, flopping back onto that old leather couch, “You don’t have to act like I’m some stranger.”

“Stranger?” he quizzes, opening the door to his fridge as his disembodied voice echoes behind you, “What makes you think I’d treat you like a stranger?”

Your shoulders tense up at his soft words, Ashton rounds the corner back into the livingroom to join you on the couch. He hands you a glass of apple juice, and you take it.

“Thanks,” you murmur, the thought of him keeping a bottle of apple juice in the fridge for you sending a chill down your spine. Despite making fun of you for it, he always remembered that it was your favorite.

“So…” he begins, shifting on the couch to face your slouched body.

You glance over at his posture, and the familiarity of it all was making your head hurt. To think that the way someone chose to sit on a couch was causing you so much grief felt unnatural.

“...How have you been?”

“Fine. Just— living. I suppose that’s all I could really ask for.”

“Living, huh? Sounds fun. Better than dying. If you said you were dying I’d definitely be a little less excited about you showing up here. Walking corpses are not as cool as they are on TV.”

The way Ashton constantly spoke in tongues drove you up the wall. “What the fuck are you even saying?”

“Sorry, I’ve— been watching a lot of TV recently. Also I, uh— had a bit to drink.”

Yeah, no shit.

A few more moments of deafening silence pass and ultimately confuse you. You aren’t sure how silence could be something so loud but alas, whenever you looked at, heard, or even thought of Ashton since that one Tuesday night, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your own quickening heartbeat.

“Do you still have my cashmere sweater?” The thought pops into your mind randomly, as he takes a moment to admire you.

“I do. Did you want it back?”

That question pulls a dry chuckle out of you, “If I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be asking for it.”

“Fair point. I know just where I left it, too— I’ll go get it.”

Ashton shifts to the edge of the couch to stand up, but stumbles back, due to whatever he had flowing in his system. He braces his ring-clad hands onto the leather and the metal adorning his knuckles tear down into it.

Glancing at those miscellaneous metal etchings and gemstones you’d gifted him makes you think about his infatuation with rings. And, his request for only eight of them.

Your mind flashes back to the anniversaries and milestones where he attempted to collect one for every finger. It could have been preference, or maybe he didn’t foresee enough milestones in which he’d acquire them—but you were never quite sure why he didn’t ask for ten.

He was weird in that way.

“You still wear your rings?” you ask, debating on biting your tongue after letting the question slip right out.

He stops in his tracks, as does your heart, “Of course I do. Why?”

“Dunno’,” you shrug, brushing your shoulder and letting your hand linger on your skin, “Just didn’t think you’d want to after everything.”

Ashton looks at you with intrigue; with purpose. He studies the hand of yours that had been left timidly resting on your forearm.

“Well, to ask you your own question; why wouldn’t I?”

His words hit you like a freight train and suddenly there’s a tightness in your chest that wasn’t there before. You were proud of yourself for being level headed— up until the moment you realized he was right; why wouldn’t he wear those rings?

Why wouldn’t you come over?

“Ashton?” The tightness in your chest was now spreading to your entire body, coating your limbs in this strange paralysis that always seemed to happen when you thought about him.

“Yeah?”

“I miss you, too.”

You don’t even get a moment to process how quickly you were straddling his lap, your crewneck riding up your back as his hands made an effort to explore you. The kiss was heated, sure, but you couldn’t tell if the resentment you felt towards him was meshing into your desires. Those soft little whimpers escaped his chest as you practically pinned him down onto the couch between your knees. You weren’t sure what came over you. Could’ve been his newly acquired taste for classical Hollywood cinema, or the fact that smelling his cologne felt like a breath of fresh air after a month spent locked in a tight little room.

“Ashton,” you mumble his name into his lips and they ricochet back onto yours.

“Oh, Y/N”, he hums, “How I’ve missed you, baby.”

Your tongues danced beneath the glowing of the silver screen, Casablanca being the most appropriate film to be on his television right now.

“I’ve–” your breath staggers, taking a moment to nip at his bottom lip, “I’ve missed you too. God fuckin’–”

The words you were meant to speak were entrapped by soft moans, as Ashton pulls you into his airy pajama pants. He holds you tightly, like he had never left.

“Do– do you–” He attempts to ask the question, the age-old question that had you rethinking your decision to come to his house in the first place.

“I don’t know…”

Your hand travels up to his hair and drags down to cup his cheek, the stubble slightly scratching at your palm and reminding yourself of the blisters that were left in the place of Ashton’s many, many attempts to teach you the drums. Two and a half years of consistent practice paid off.

“That’s okay,” he consoles, nuzzling his cheek into your hand, “We don’t have to do anything. We could just– lay here, y’know? Never minded it, still don’t.”

His answer surprises you. You nod and stutter, unable to form a coherent thought due to the warmth of his bare chest beneath his robe.

“Mmmh. You know what?— I change my mind.”

He chuckles, “Do you, now?”

“Yup. I want to. Gotta’ get whatever the fuck this is— out of my system.”

You couldn’t describe the way Ashton’s face morphed into that of a kicked puppy. The pain in your chest was blatantly obvious now, like a subtle pinprick every time the dim lights would catch the sparkle in his eyes.

“Out of your system?”

“I didn’t— I didn’t mean it like that,” you say; an oxymoron of sorts. Since the elephant in the room started stomping around and now, you were straddling him and tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.

“I guess I can’t disagree with you. I’ve been missing you a lot but— I don’t know, I can’t really place what I’m feeling.”

Your lip tugs to the side, as does his. Twin looks of confusion in an effort to read each other’s faces. “Let’s just— pick up where we left off? Maybe it’ll help get your mind off the existential dread.”

“Existential dread, huh? Is that what this feeling is?” he asks, his hands running up and down your spine beneath your crewneck.

“Yeah, sure,” you swallow hard, harder than you’d intended and you choke on your words, “We can call it that.”

He whispers your name softly and the chills start running down your body. His voice was the one thing you couldn’t get over; no matter how many nights you’d spent staring at the ceiling in an effort to change that. You’d hear him calling out to you every time the wind blew and hearing him say it right in front of you felt like a slap in the goddamn face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“It’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think?”

You hated to be so morbid and dry but in the end, it was true. If he had wanted to give apologies where they were due, they should’ve been said the moment he called it quits.

“I figured it’s better late than never. You deserve an apology for— everything that went on.”

Your face turns cherry red, a sudden wash of anger flushing over your cheeks. You push yourself off of his chest with a force that you didn’t even know you were capable of. He jerks back, awe-stricken at the sudden change.

“Oh fuck you Ash. You’re so full of shit,” you mutter, fueled with sudden rage, “If you really wanted to apologize you’d have been at my doorstep a month ago. You don’t care about me. You only care because I’m right in front of you and looking at me hurts too much for you to ignore it.”

“You think I don’t care about you?…”

Ashton’s voice cracks and suddenly you were feeling awful for blowing up unprovoked. The notch in his forehead grows deeper as he studies your infuriated face with sincerity.

“Y/N, of course I fucking care about you. Are you kidding me? I care about you more than anything in this world.”

Another one of those pinpricks tugs at your heartstrings.

“Then why did you let me go?”

Without a moment’s notice or any sort of explanation, Ashton pulls you back into his chest and slots his lips against yours. You don’t fight it. In fact, you embrace it. Another frenzied kiss of daring tongues and roaming hands against the places that felt so familiar to the both of you.

Just as the kiss goes rogue and his lips sloppily traipse down to your jaw, you feel a small droplet roll down your cheek. One that didn’t belong to you.

A quiet sob is preceded by a sentence that rips your heart out of your chest.

“I never wanted to. I never wanted to let you go.”

“Ashton,” you murmur, feeling your eyes welling up just the same, “I—I didn’t know—”

He interrupts your thought with a string of kisses down your neck towards your chest. His hands roam with fervor, feeling you up as though you were the last thing he would ever be allowed or able to touch. You embraced his blistered hands and the way they knew every crease and divot in your body, how effortless he was at drawing you back in.

“I never knew how to get you in front of me to actually say the things on my mind but now that I have you I just— I couldn’t fight the pain in my chest when I looked into your eyes for the first time.” His rambling was trailing off into muffled sniffling and staccato phrasing; it was causing you physical pain to hear him this way.

“I just assumed you hated me. I thought you never wanted to see me again, Ash. Why didn’t you say this sooner?”

“What? No. No, I don’t hate you,” he defends, still solemn, “I just— didn’t know how to reach out. It took me a lot to swallow my pride and send you that text, Y/N… I’ve never been good at communicating.”

“Tell me about it,” you break the tension with a lighthearted hand, but remnants of your feelings for him lingered above your head like a storm cloud.

“But my actions have consequences, I’ve learned… I’d drive past your house and it’d take everything in me not to bang on your front door and drop down to my knees. Beg you to forgive me for everything I put you through… Everything I do reminds me of you in some way and— it was hard to even think about the two of us existing in the same universe without the other by our sides. It just, it didn’t feel natural—”

You felt sorrowful enough to place a kiss on his cheek as he rambled on, masking tears of your own and letting them drip down his cheek.

“— And when you told me ‘no’ after I’d asked you on a whim to come here, I thought it was over. My entire life flashed before my eyes and you weren’t in it and it just— it fucking killed me.”

“But Ashton, I’m here,” you say, watching his face deconstruct into more of a manic expression as he digressed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know you’re here. You’re here now and— I know you always told me to live in the moment, but fuck. There’s so much left to say.”

You cup his jaw and tilt his gaze back into yours, after it had wandered behind your head as it always seemed to do.

“I’m sure there’s a lot to say but Ashton, you’ve made up your mind. That’s just… the way things go.”

Another tear falls rogue from his malachite eyes and your thumb is there to catch it. His gaze is gut-wrenching, plucking at every single one of your impulses and all of the progress you’ve made in getting over him.

“Is it too late to change that?”

Your mind starts reeling. The words you’d never thought you’d hear coming from his mouth were finally out in the open and there was no sign of him taking them back. The initial issue was his lack of communication but fuck, you didn’t know it would come back to bite you so soon.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about sending him a simple text to meet for coffee in hopes to ‘change his mind’, but it seemed as though he was thinking about it just as much as you were. There was no point in fighting it anymore. The two of you were meant for each other. If a month of no contact was all it took for him to realize how much he needed you…

…Then maybe that random Tuesday night wasn’t the worst thing after all.

[sc0tters]

Memories In a Box | Gabe Perreault

summary: four times Gabe realised that he was in love with you and the one time he did something about it.

song: nervous - Shawn Mendes

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 1.94k

authors note: I’ve never written one of these 4/5 + 1 things before so I figured what better time to try it than with the first drattee that I’ve ever written for! If you want to be apart of or see more of the celly playlist, you can find it here!

Being Wills twin sister was like a double edged sword.

Don’t be wrong, you loved your brother. The two of you had been best friends from the day you came out of the womb you were practically attached by the hip, wearing the same gender neutral clothes for the first year and a half of your life because the laugh you would let out when someone mixed the two of you up was music to your parents ears. You had been by Wills side every step of the way, every goal, every loss, and every injury was just as much of a burden on your shoulders as it was on his. What came with this though was his friends, most of them you thought were incredibly annoying as most boys in their teens were.

1

But Gabe didn’t seem to apply to that rule. You first met him when your parents decided to take Will and his favourite teammates out for pizza.

The younger boy had drawn the short straw of sitting next to the talkative girl with braces and her hair in messy braids as she had been running around, otherwise known as you. It seemed like he couldn’t even get a word in, not that he minded though. It was much more interesting listening to you talk about the assist that he had made “sparky shush,” Will laughed as he ruffled his hand over your head. The older of the Smith twins had gotten that nickname as a child, you seemed to enjoy sticking your fingers into electrical sockets back then.

Your face turned pink as you realised that you had been rambling “I don’t mind,” Gabe shook his head as he threw his arm around you. He had seen how the other boys acted around you and how you acted around them so by you not reacting negatively to the gesture. Gabe didn’t know if he wanted to smirk or if he needed to wipe the sweat from his hands first. That was the moment you knew he was going to be different from Wills other friends.

2

Your families lake house was always the highlight of your summers. It was your very own oasis, the place where peace met happiness. Your list of descriptions went on. It was your heaven on earth. Which was why you were awake early most mornings, usually just staring out at the water “you got room for one more?” Gabe called out as he leaned against the frame of the backdoor.

You spun your head around to see him “I think I can find the space,” you joked as you patted the other side of the bench.

Gabe had slept in a random pair of shorts and he hadn’t bothered to grab a shirt before he strolled down stairs, not that you minded though -him shirtless with his unmade curly hair made you feel like you had won the seventeen year old girl lottery. He joined you on the bench swing with a smile “you always out here?” The boy asked as he furrowed his eyebrows, he knew that you were always awake before everyone else but this was him getting a chance to experience it with you for the first time. Will used to joke about that bench being your our private land before 10:00am because you didn’t allow anyone -well just Will- on it with you.

Your smile was evident as you looked back out at the dock where your parents boat sat “with a view like this it’s hard not to.” What you didn’t notice was that his eyes never left you from the moment he sat down “beautiful isn’t it?” You asked as you locked eyes with him, both of your cheeks warmed at the moment.

All the hockey player could do was nod “yeah it is,” he rubbed the back of his neck as he wasn’t talking about your view then, he was talking about his view.

3

For your birthday your parents always went big for their twins. It was one party but you and Will almost found a way to make compromises that let you each end up happy. For your eighteenth birthday all you wanted was to have your friends over and that’s exactly what you were getting ready for “come in!” You called out as there was a knock at the door. Your curling iron was lowered as you watched the door in the reflection of your mirror.

Gabe almost stopped in his tracks “wow,” he mumbled as his eyes went wide. You had told him that you had bought a new dress for the evening but you never showed it to him, until now “you like it?” You asked as you got up to let him see it in full.

He nodded “I love it,” part of him wanted you to wrap yourself in a blanket so that nobody else could see your beauty in that way that he saw it now “you’re beautiful,” he confessed causing you to place your hand on your chest.

You’d been told plenty of times before that you looked beautiful in a piece of clothing but this was the first time that you had been called outright beautiful “you’re gonna make me ruin my makeup,” you warned as you had to stop yourself from getting emotional.

It caused the boy to laugh “well happy birthday spark,” everyone thought that his nickname for you was simply an adaptation of the one your brother had given you. But it wasn’t, Gabe called you spark because you were the spark in his life that could help him kickstart it whenever he needed it. He was the moth to your flame.

He walked over to you to hand you your present “you didn’t need to give me anything,” you reminded him as you placed what seemed like a jewellery box on your bed before you pulled him into a hug.

Gabe had ignored your request every single year from the year you met him “let me have one day to spoil you in peace.” The seriousness in his tone made you laugh as he placed a kiss to your head.

Will could be heard from outside your room “anyone know where Gabe is?” He asked causing you two to look at each other.

The hockey player brought his finger to your lips “I guess this is my cue,” he joked as he sent you a soft salute before he made his way out of your room without getting caught.

4

Gabe mindlessly walked through the center as he wanted to find a place to gather his thoughts “Gabe!” You cheered as you saw the boy walking in your direction.

You had Wills Sharks cap on your head as your brother had put it there during one of his interviews “hey spark,” Gabe smiled as nearly knocked him off of his feet when you hugged him.

His arms went around your waist like they were meant to be there and this was one of the first times that he truly felt at ease “blue looks good on you,” you commented as you looked at the rangers jersey that he was in.

The boys cheeks went flushed at the compliment “it’s more your colour than mine” He pointed out causing you to giggle.

It was that playful noise as your tongue ran along the inside of your cheek “I’ve always thought that dark blue looked better on me.” You explained as you reached up to take the cap off of his head to replace the one that was on your own head. The sharks cap was going to have to stay in your hand for now “you think?” You added as you ran your fingers through the ends of your hair.

Gabe swore he was going to die in that very moment “you look good in everything,” he confessed letting the compliment roll off of his tongue like it was honey.

Your freshly painted fingernails picked at the pendant of your necklace attracting the boys attention to your chest area. It was the necklace he had gotten you for your birthday “even my sweats and pjs?” The Ranger draftee had been around your family for so many years now that he had seen you multiple times when the boys would all come back to Wills place after early morning practices.

It caused him to nod repeatedly “especially those,” he would never admit it to Will -mainly because he valued the status of his life since Will would kill any body that even looked at you the wrong way- but he was now dangerously close to admitting it all to you.

Something caught your attention as it caused you to take a step back from the taller boy “there you are sparky.” Will had to admit that he was surprised to see the Rangers had that travelled from Gabe’s head to yours.

You sent your brother a smile “just been talking to Gabe about life in New York.” Your lie made sense as you had been accepted into NYU so if Gabe were to sign immediately you two would be seeing a lot more of each other.

Without the watchful eye of your brother “she can be so thoughtful sometimes can’t she?” Will asked as he was totally unaware of what was going on between you and Gabe.

Of course nothing was happening between you two but as the saying goes a picture can speak a thousand words.

+1

Gabe had been in New York for a development camp series and the night before he was meant to head back to Boston he still hadn’t seen you. It wasn’t a lack of effort from either one of you, it was simply that you couldn’t find a time where both of your schedules had the moment available. So like any boy with a crush, he just showed up at your dorm “Gabe?” You asked as your eyes went wide. The person you thought was going to be at your door was your food delivery driver, not your brothers best friend “can I come in?” His voice was soft as his eyes looked tired.

He dropped his bag inside your dorm as he pulled you into a hug. Without seeing you for months he grew to miss your scent, your smile, your laugh, but most of all, you. It was like the second you two got into there his walls came crashing down “what’s going on with you?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at him.

Something was clearly weighing on him “I want to do something but it might be stupid.” Gabe confessed as his eyes flickered between your face and your lips.

You honestly thought you were dreaming at that point. This was the moment you had spent years waiting for, ever since you saw him in that pizza restaurant where he put his arm around you “quit taking your damn time then.” You murmured finally giving him the green light. Butterflies flew through your body as you watched him lick his lips before he nodded. Given the height difference between you two you were quick to push yourself onto your tippy toes as you kissed him. You had grown impatient and decided that you had enough of waiting for him.

The kiss was delicate, like it was a well baked cake that your mom had spent hours making.

The kiss was perfect,

Everything was perfect.

[superg1rl-newsiesnerd]

Jack Kelly fanfic!!

Tw:s3lf harm, descriptions of violence, blood, wounds, lack of eating, low self esteem, trauma, depression, etc

You’re my baby, say it to me.

Jack doesn’t know when, how, or why, but he finds himself being cornered in an alley, each Delancey brother closing in on him slowly.

He’s not had a particularly good day so far. Awoken at 5:00am by a gut-wrenching nightmare of Crutchie and Davey being taken to the refuge, trying to muffle the sobs of his panic attack that followed due to it being too early. Feeling achy all over, and he hasn’t had a good selling day either. Only sold at most 2 papes, and it’s 11:30am. Or maybe it was 12:00? Jack didn’t know for sure, but all he knew is that he had to get out of whatever this situation is that he was in.

“Yknow, I’ve been polishing my favorite brass knuckles as I’ve been waiting for this day.” Oscar said with a growl to his voice.

“Waiting for this day, huh? So you admit I’ve been ahead of you two this whole time?” Jack said, trying to bite back. But he failed miserably. He was too… vulnerable today.

Morris swung his foot at Jack’s feet, causing him to trip and fall to the ground. The one moment he tries to get up, Oscar lands a punch straight to his face. Jack falls to the ground, cradling his 100% broken nose that was gushing blood.

Kicking. Punching. And horrible insults. A lot more kicking. Finally, they stopped.

“I think my brass knuckles need a break. I’m watching you, Kelly.” Oscar said, leaving a bloodied and bruised, barely conscious Jack on the ground.

Jack laid for what felt like hours. Who knows, it could’ve actually been hours. Jack doesn’t know. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, until he found himself getting up shakily. He almost collapsed again, but he caught himself on a trashcan. He staggered closer to the sidewalk and less in the dark depths of the alleyway, before just collapsing. He felt his eyes slipping closed, his body aching and nose still bleeding.

—————

“Davey, mine is totally better.” Les argued, licking his ice cream.

“No, plain chocolate is basic. Rocky road is so much better.” Davey said with a laugh, licking his ice cream cone.

Just as they were walking across the sidewalk in a light mood, Davey caught something at the edge of his eyes. He thought it looked like someone lying down against the wall, but he ignored it. Until they grew closer, and he realized it was someone lying against the wall.

As he grew closer, he realized it was no random someone. It was his boyfriend. His boyfriend, lying there against the wall, barely conscious, bloodied and bruised, clothes stained with that burgundy liquid.

He dropped his ice cream, and ran over to him. He put a hand on Jack’s shoulder, shaking him lightly and speaking softly.

“Jack? Jack? Hey, baby…it’s me. Can you hear me?” Davey said in an oh so soft voice, rubbing Jack’s shoulder with his thumb. Jack let out a moan, which was more than good enough for Davey.

“There you go, it’s okay sweetie…I’m here…just try to breathe. Can you tell me where it hurts the most?” He said softly to his battered up boyfriend.

Jack let out another moan of pain, before lolling his head to the side and mumbling. “R-r-ribs….a-arm…n-nose…l-l-l-leg…everywhere…” Jack said shakily.

Saying Davey’s heart broke was an understatement. He wanted to cry…Jack was clearly in so much pain.

“Hey, it’s okay sweetie…we’re gonna help you…let me help you.” Davey said softly, before very carefully picking up Jacks battered, lightweight body bridal style.

“C’mon, Les.” Davey said softly, walking in the direction to their house. The walk there was agonizing, Jack protested softly all the way. Claiming that he was fine, and that Davey should ‘stop caring for him so much.’ Davey thinks it’s bullcrap.

They arrive and Les knocks on the door, in which their mother answers.

“Hey boys- oh my! D-davey, what’s happened?” Mrs.Jacobs says, concern overflowing her senses when she sees the boy in her son’s arms.

“I found him like this, we gotta help him.” Davey said softly. Jack groaned and opened his eyes.

“Mmmm…n-no, I’m fine..! I’m fine, I-“ Jack cuts himself off with a groan of pain in his ribs, clutching the area with shaky hands.

Well, that totally proved he was fine.

Davey brought Jack upstairs, despite his shaky protests. He got Jack to the bathroom, and got him a fresh pair of clothes. He was gonna clean him up and help him. Help him good.

He closed the toilet lid, placing Jack on it. As he went to the cabinet and got the first aid kit and other things, Jack just sat there. He was scared. And hurting. And terrified. All of the above.

Davey heard jacks labored breathing, and turned around with his eyebrows furrowed. He sawJack was panicking a bit.

“Hey, it’s okay…it’s okay Jackie…” Davey started to say, reaching out for Jack.

Jack flinched. Harshly. Looking in fear.

Davey stated into Jack’s green eyes. He could barely focus on how they were green, just on how full of pain they were.

“Hey, it’s okay honey…just breathe…” Davey said softly.

Jack was struggling to calm down. Clearly.

Reaching out at a steady pace, Davey grabbed Jack’s thin, blood stained hands and cradled them as they shook to stop Jack from scratching himself.

Jack always scratched himself when he was having a panic attack, Davey always noticed it. And this time Jack scratched himself to the point of light bleeding.

Smiling sadly, he called out to Jack again. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” He said softly.

“P-promise?”

“Promise.” He said with a soft smile.

And he will forever keep with it.

He started the water, not too hot and not too cold. He gently helped the shaking boy into the bathtub and began to rinse him off. He wet his matted hair, very gently shampooing it. As he massaged the shampoo into his hair, he could see Jack relax a bit more. Still not relaxed, but more than before.

It took a lot of time and trust to be able to wash him, but he finally finished and got him dried off.

“Okay, now let’s see those cuts…” he said softly, reaching a gentle hand and touching Jack’s face. He cupped his cheek and wiped the falling tears.

“I-I-I’m sorry, D-Davey…” he croaked out.

“Shhhh…it’s okay sweetie. Don’t be sorry.” Davey replied, before opening the first aid kit.

He gently put an ointment on a cotton pad, before dabbing it on the cut on Jack’s face.

Jack flinches at the stinging feeling, his hand coming up to cup his cheek

“Does that hurt?” Davey says, getting a shaky nod in reply. But Jack soon changes his demeanor, and speaks up.

“B-but it’s fine, really. I can handle a little sting. I’ll be fine. I mean I-i really don’t know why you’re even cleaning it if I’m just gonna go back out to the streets and get dirty again-“

“Back out to the streets? Honey, I’m not letting you back out to those streets.” Davey interrupts.

Jack almost laughs.

“What? No, okay, very funny. Now put the swab away, Davey. It’s not worth it. I’m not worth it.”

“Jack.” Davey says a bit loudly, causing Jack to stop speaking.

“You’re not going back to the streets.” Is all he says, before continuing his cleaning of Jack’s wounds.

—————-

Jack was terrified, to say the least.

He and all the other newsies got put into a foster home. All of them have been adopted so far….except Jack and crutchie. Jack was just praying whoever took him took crutchie too. Because he can’t be away from crutchie, he can’t.

A knock.

“Excuse me, Jack? There’s someone that’s looking to adopt you. Charlie Morris too.” The kind woman says.

Jack almost cries in relief. He was gonna be able to protect crutchie.

Thats what matters.

Hes taken to a small room where he find Crutchie already in there, sitting down. He gets up and crutches over to Jack with a huge smile, hugging him tightly. Jack smiled and nuzzled his nose into crutchies hair.

“Jack, we can finally be together. As brothers.” Crutchie said softly.

“…we’ve always been brothers crutchie, no matter legally or biologically or neither.”

Crutchie pulled away and smiled up at Jack.

“You’re the best brother ever.” He said. “Also, I’ve already met who it is that wants to adopt us.” Is all he could say before the door opened. The same woman peeked inside and spoke.

“Boys, this here is who would like to adopt you. Meet Medda Larkin.” She said, opening the door and revealing Ms.Medda. Jack freezes up, staring in shock. Without hesitation, he runs up to Ms Medda and gives her the biggest hug ever. He begins to sob into her shoulder, crying loudly.

“Shhh…it’s okay baby…” she coaxes softly.

“O-oh my God, Ms-Ms Medda…” he said shakily through sobs. “I-I can’t believe this is really happening-“ he said, cutting himself off with a hiccup.

Ms Medda smiled and teared up herself. Crutchie came over, joining the hug.

They stayed there, hugging and crying for a while. Jack eventually pulled away, face red and tears still streaming down his face. He smiled, looking at her with such appreciation and love in his eyes.

“I love you Ms.Medda…” he said shakily.

“Jack, you don’t have to call me that anymore…call me mom.” She said softly.

Jack let out another sob and smiled widely, before giving her and crutchie another big hug.

When they pulled away, Ms Medda went over to the kind woman and started to sign a few papers.

The process did take a few weeks, but they finally got adopted officially. It was the day they officially moved in to Meddas. Jack had a few bags, and Ms medda lead him to his room upstairs after showing crutchie his room.

It was a good sized room, loft bed and a desk, large TV, shelves, plenty of room…Jack was taken aback.

“Oh, okay sorry I think I accidentally went into yours. Which one’s mine?” Jack said, opening another door to a smaller, empty room.

“Oh, that’s gonna be my laundry room. That one’s your room, baby.” Ms.Medda said, pointing back to the large room with the loft bed.

Jacks eyes widened, looking back at Medda and the room.

“Ms.Medda this is- uhm….oh my god…I-I’m sorry…” Jack said, his voice cracking. Ms.medda put a hand on his shoulder. He was clearly getting emotional, he’s never had an actual room. Let alone one this big.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay….come here…” she said softly, bringing the boy into her arms.

He cried softly, but quickly tried to suck it up.

“Th-thank you…th-thank you s-so much….” Is all he could say.

“You’re more than welcome, baby. Now get yourself unpacked. Mkay? Take your time. I’ll check on you later. Holler at me if you need anything, I’ll be downstairs making dinner.” She says softly, patting his back and placing a kiss onto his forehead.

“Okay, Ms.medda.” Jack said, forgetting to call her mom.

He hadn’t called anyone mom since he was 3.

————

It has been 2 months since Ms.Medda fostered him and Crutchie. Jack was doing a lot better.

…or so Davey thought.

Davey just got home from school and noticed at school Jack was acting…different.

He wad being oddly…protective of his arms. He didn’t eat anything at lunch, barely spoke, and went to the bathroom with his backpack more than enough times.

Davey was scared. He thought Jack was okay.

He got out his phone and called Ms.Medda. She had given Davey her number just in case there was anything about Jack that they needed to warn each other about. Like if Jack wasn’t feeling good, she would ask Davey to be gentle with him at school. Etc.

“Hello, Ms.Medda? Hey, can I come over and see Jack?” He said nicely over the phone.

“Well of course, sweetheart. Pack a bag if you want, it’s a Friday and we ain’t got anything tomorrow besides a doctor’s appointment. I’m sure Jack would like for you to come with him to it anyways.” She said over the phone.

“Okay. Thank you, Ms.Medda. I’ll be there soon.” He said before hanging up.

He’s never packed a bag faster in his life.

He threw his backpack over his shoulder and got onto his bike, riding down the street as fast as he could. Thankfully, the ride wasn’t that far. Barely a mile.

But when he arrived, he was out of breath. He knocked on the door, in which Ms.Medda opened soon enough.

“Hey, Davey. How ya doin’ sweetheart?” She said nicely.

“I’m great, thank you.” He said softly.

That was a lie. His head was spinning (no pun intended) with worry.

“That’s good. Jacks upstairs in his room. Crutchies over at a friend’s house.” Ms.Medda said softly, letting Davey in.

Davey walked up the stairs and up to Jack’s door, where he could hear soft crying. Davey knocked softly before going in.

…he almost screamed at the sight.

“Davey!! Davey get out!! Get out!!” Jack exclaimed, tears running down his face and his voice cracking.

“Jack, what the hell!!!” Davey exclaimed.

Jack was sat on his bed, sleeves pulled up, blade in hand.

…and there was blood.

“Jack, I thought you were doing better!” Davey exclaimed, trying to calm down but he can’t. Jack lied. He said he was doing better.

“Just the other day you were eating, and talking, and laughing, so what happened?! Do you not appreciate what I’m doing for you?! Do you know how worried I’ve been-“

Then he stopped. And looked at Jack. He stopped and really looked.

Jack look terrified. So terrified. Tears streaming down his face, his body shaking like a leaf. He clearly wasn’t seeing or hearing Davey, he was clearly not here mentally.

“I-I’m sorry…” he whispered. “I-I’m sorry …I-i know I’m not worth it, i-I’m sorry sir…”

Davey almost cried. ‘Sir.’ SIR. Jack was calling him sir.

“Hey, hey, no no no…I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…calm down…” Davey said, walking up to Jack. Jack flinched harshly as Davey reached out for him.

“P-please n-no….n-not anymore…p-please not anymore…I-I’m sorry sir…” Jack whimpered out.

Then it snapped.

The refuge. That’s where Jack thought he was.

“Woah, hey…I’m not gonna hurt you baby, I’m not gonna hurt you…it’s me Davey, it’s Davey. David Jacobs.”He said softly. He wanted to cry, he felt so bad.

“Sn-sn-sn-Snyder….” Jack said.

“No, no baby. No. He’s gone. He’s in prison. It’s me, Davey. It’s me. Your boyfriend.” He said softly. Jack squeezed his eyes shut.

It was at least 10 minutes of Jack sitting there, eyes squeezed shut and shaking and crying. He finally opened his eyes and looked around the room slowly. He looked at Davey, tears running down his face.

“D-davey…” he said softly.

“Yeah, yeah that’s it. There you go baby…it’s me, it’s me.” He replied softly, stroking jacks hand with him thumb.

“D-D-Davey.” He repeated. He reached up and put a shaking hand on Davey’s cheek, as if trying to feel if he was real.

“Davey.” He repeated again softly.

“Yes. It’s me…” Davey replied softly.

Jack then shakily and hesitantly went in for a hug, as if scared he was gonna get hurt. He hugged Davey for a while, his breaths shaky and fast.

After about 15 minutes, Jack finally calmed down.

“I’m so sorry, davey…” he said softly.

“No, Jack. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I yelled at you like that.” Davey said, feeling guilty.

“It’s fine. It’s not like I’m not used to it. But it’s fine, seriously. You had every right to.” He said softly, pulling away and staring down at his shaking hands.

Davey just leaned in and kissed jacks forehead, stroking his hair.

“Let’s get these cleaned up. Mkay?” Davey said softly, picking up jacks arm that was mattered in cuts covered in dried blood.

He went to the bathroom and got a the first aid kit, coming back and sitting beside Jack on the bed.

This felt all too familiar, sitting down and cleaning Jack’s wounds from his beating by the Delancey brothers.

He wiped the blood away, cleaned the cuts carefully, and bandaged them up. That’s when he noticed Jack was shivering.

“Are you cold, baby?” He said softly, getting a small nod in reply.

“Okay. How about we get you changed into some warmer clothes and get you some tea, okay?” Davey suggested softly, since Jack was in a thin long sleeve shirt and just his boxers. “Then we can lay down and cuddle, watch TV, you can draw a picture, whatever you want. Sound good?”

“Davey, I-“

“Jack.” He interrupted the stubborn boy. “Let me take care of you.”

Jack sighed, losing his words. Davey gave him a small kiss before going to Jacks closet. He got Jack some pajama pants and a nice, baggy, fluffy hoodie that would swallow Jack whole. But that’s how Jack likes his hoodies.

He carefully helped Jack get dressed, before leaving to go downstairs and get Jack some tea. That’s where he found Ms.Medda, looking concerned.

“Davey, is everything okay? I heard Jack yelling and crying…” she said softly.

Davey sighed. How was he supposed to tell her.

“He uhm…I found him…hurting himself again. He had a really bad panic attack…” Davey said softly. Ms.medda’s face changed to one of sympathy and hurt.

“Oh…okay, okay. Is he okay now? Do you need any help?” She said softly.

“I’m okay, I was just gonna make him some tea real quick.” He said softly.

“Oh, let me fix it. That’s okay sweetie. You go be with him so he isn’t alone.”

Davey gave a nod and turned on his heel, before Ms.Medda spoke up.

“Davey?…thank you. Thank you…for being there for him. You know, he loves you very much. I can’t thank you enough…” she said softly. Davey smiled softly.

“It’s no problem, I promise I’ll keep looking out for him…” he said softly.

He went back upstairs and saw Jack sitting on the bed, hood up and earbuds in, engaged in a drawing.

“Hey, sweetie…” Davey said softly, sitting down by Jack.

Jack toothlessly smiled, turning down his music a bit and setting down his pencil.

“Hi…” he said softly, looking into Davey’s eyes before giving him a soft kiss.

“…thank you…” Jack said softly after a moment of silence.

“For what?” Davey asked.

“…being there for me. It…it means a lot. I’ve never had a relationship like this…ever. Romantic or platonic.” He replied softly.

Before Davey could reply and smother Jack in kisses, Ms.Medda walked in with a small mug. It was steaming and had a small teabag in it.

“Here you go, sweet pea. Just try to relax…” she said softly, handing the mug to Jack.

“Thank you, mama…” he said softly.

“Of course, sweet baby…” she said softly, before walking out.

…Davey almost teared up at the way Jack called her ‘mama’

That was adorable.

They cuddled up together, turning on the TV and watching Star Wars. As Jack sipped his tea, he began to relax even more and more.

Soon after he finished his tea, he started to drift off to sleep. Davey placed a kiss on his forehead and spoke softly.

“Go ahead and sleep baby, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Jack let out a small hum and closed his eyes.

Jack had been through hell, but things were good for now.

[jessiarts]

My theories on why the boop-o-meter is still here:

So, it was pointed out by @frankencanon that Tumblr runs on EST (or EDT now), And their reset time for everything like post limits/etc. is 12:00am EST. Which would mean, at Tumblr, April Fools has been over for two hours at the writing of this post.

So, I thought it'd be fun to come up with some theories as to why we are still being graced with the ability to boop with abandon

Theory 1: Tumblr just forgot to shut it off (Funny, but unlikely. Surely they would have coded a sunset time on it?)

Theory 2: We're getting a second day of boops! (Yay! But why? Suspicious)

Theory 3: The feature is now permanent by popular demand (least likely) Theory 3a: The feature was always going to be permanent, and the assumption that it was only for one day was the prank. (Still unlikely, but also funny)

Theory 4: Staff actually have their own 'global' boop-goal, and the boop feature will stay until we meet it and unlock whatever surprise awaits the meeting of said global goal (Probably not- but would be fun. Maybe it'll rain kitties lol)

Theory 5: Tumblr knows that it's users, while happy the feature remains, would get suspicious when the feature didn't disappear after midnight, and so they're leaving it on just long enough to mess with us before they rip it away at a random time (Doubtful, but still- sorta funny. Not mad at it lol)

Or Theory 6: Something went awry and they can't shut it off. (I can't imagine what that would be, but it's the most funny option to me)

Anyway that's all I got for now. Feel free to add your own!

[skz-streamer]

A Lost Cause -2/3-

<-Past - Next->

Pairing: Felix (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, slight smut?

Warnings: mentions of suicide, scarred wrist, pain, car crash, PTSD, abusive/toxic boyfriend, substances, abuse, bruising, crying, um... lmk if I missed anything else❤️

Notes: Finally!!! This chapter is a little shorter but it is a little more juicy ;) Im not sure when chap 3 will come out, possibly Thursday? Anyways I thought Hannah's new song fit this chapter pretty well, I tried to include some ocean vibes in there :)

Summary: After an abusive relationship you head to the bar for refuge...only to find yourself in another relationship, but is this one "A Lost Cause"?

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count ~1.5k ;)

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

A week later

You walk out of the large glass doors, finally out of the hospital you think. You can only imagine how messy your apartment must be, the leftovers in the fridge, the unmade bed. It wasn’t a welcoming sight to envision, especially after your situation. You ended up getting discharged with a broken arm and some painkillers, not to bad…I mean it could’ve been worse. You brush your hand over your cast, your hand traces higher and higher up your arm.

Suddenly you feel a sharp pain in your shoulder, even though it had been a week the nail marks that your ex had left in your shoulder were still there, small little scabs concealing a deep trauma inside. But then again there was him….Felix. To be honest what happend with him at the bar was a blur, so you decided to start new with him. He was a nice guy, well more then nice he was caring, sweet, compassionate, cute, loving…shit. You could’ve kept listing words that described him, but snapping you out of your trance was your ex. 

“Come here sweet cakes” he said, annoyed? You couldn’t tell the tone of his voice. How did he know you were out? And just as if he were reading your mind he spat out “ forgot I’m still your emergency contact?” Fuck, you were stuck with him as your ride back. Your car was absolutely totaled and had been sent to a junkyard, and you had no updates about insurance or money back. Everything was just piling up- “Get. In. The. Car” his words sent a shiver down your spine, you really really didn’t want to get into his stupid car with his dumbass self but…

It was a quiet drive home, infact too quiet. You had got in the car and he had turned on the radio. All that went through your mind was the repetitive words of ‘you’re his ex, and he’s yours’. Even though you were the one who broke up with him, were you the only one that felt pain? Was he really just a jerk? You sit on your couch. The only not cluttered place in your apartment. Maybe it would be nice to have a roommate, it was a random thought but at least there would be company. It was hard without your ex, you admitted it. In some way you felt like you needed him but no. You couldn’t go back to that relationship again. Ex means ex.

Trying to snap yourself out of your brain rotting thoughts you decide to go to bed, it’s only 8:00pm, which is quite early to sleep for you but you're tired as hell. Your messy bed welcomes your fragile figure as you lay down, letting the mattress pull you in. 

Your eyes snap open, the clock on your bedside table reads ‘5:00am’ shit. You had a feeling this would happen, sleep early and wake up early. You grabbed your phone giving up the thought of trying to go back to bed again, you had tried that already and it didn’t work. Like at all. Nothing was open at this time. Ugh what were you supposed to do now? You drag yourself out of bed and slug to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. You get your cast off in another week, it was kinda depressing to look at actually. Usually most casts would be decorated with hearts or names and even little messages, but yours was just a plain white. In fact it was starting to get a little gray around the edges. Maybe if you were with your ex he would’ve- the coffee pot loudly beeps interrupting your thoughts, goddd why were you so hung up over him?

You decide to go out for a walk, maybe some fresh air would be good for you, there is actually a really pretty bridge near your house. It overlooked the ocean. It was pretty nice in the morning, known for providing a beautiful view of sunrises and sunsets. You quickly change into a messy outfit, you just throw on some jean shorts and a tank top. You grab a jacket and head out, looking at yourself in the mirror for the first time in a while, you look different. It’s a cleaner look, smoother skin with no bruises or scratches ruining your skin. Your top perfectly showed the little inward curve your waist had, you didn’t have an ‘hourglass body’ but you were happy with what you had. 

Gladly the bridge was a walkable distance from your apartment, you still didn’t have a car. Gosh there were so many things to sort out. You really tried not to think about all of the things you needed to do…not to mention your job, you hoped you hadn’t lost that. All your worries were blown away as soon as you felt the cold breeze hit your hair. You loved the ocean, the idea that so much was hidden in it scared you and intrigued you at the same time. You felt inclined towards it. You continue to stroll down the bridge, the waves crashing against nearby rocks, the sounds of seagulls, it was all beautiful to you. 

Not looking where you’re walking you bump into someone, sending your coffee to spill all over yourself. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry” you stutter out. “No I should be sorry, look at yourself” he replies, it’s a familiar voice almost like Feli- you find yourself looking straight into his eyes. You had tried your very best to not think about him, especially since what happened in the hospital, it was a mistake. Mistake? That didn’t seem like the right word, maybe an accident? You didn’t mean to lunge at Felix after your ex left, but you felt safe with him, warm. 

Three days ago (Flashback)

Felix had been coming to see you every day since the day you were checked into the hospital, you werent sure why but it was nice to have some kind of company. - 

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear a knock on your door, “come in!” you say excitedly, hoping that its felix who is standing outside. And your hopes were right! Felix walks into your room sitting down on the chair next to your hospital bed, one hand behind his back. “SURPRISE!!!” Felix screams, louder then he expected to, making you jump a little. You giggle at his antics before looking down at what he was holding. Its a tiny rubber ducky, you look back up at him. He is smiling so much that there are little creases next to his eyes, you smile in response it was a silly gift, especially for someone your age but… it was cute, and it was sweet that he got you something in the first place. 

Felix gently holds your hand so that he could place the duck in your palm, gosh why were you getting so flustered… He closes your palm and pushes down, the rubber duck creates a little squeaking noise sending you and Felix both to a loud laughter. Felix wraps his hands around you, pulling you in for a hug. You could feel his rock hard chest flush against yours as he squeezed you into the hug harder, you practically melt into his chest as he starts rubbing small circles on your back.

Your laughs quickly turn into muffled sobs, in response he pulls you away and stares you straight in the eyes. You quickly sniff and try to wipe away your tears but he swiftly grabs your hands, pressing the into the soft mattress below. “Why?” is all you manage to whimper out, you werent sure what you were saying why to. To Felix and why he stayed with you for hours on end? To yourself for loosing a relationship with your ex? To your ex for treating you like shit? Why…why did it have to be you. You knew making connections with felix would be a lost cause but…

Felix removes his hands from your wrists now cupping your face, hes staring into your eyesbut your eyes are staring directly at his lips. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, wiping off your fallen tears. “Whats there to cry for? Promise me you wont cry again…atleast not without a proper reason” he says, almost in a whisper like tone, trying to match yours from earlier. All you can do is nod in his hands, still focusing on his pretty pink lips. He notices that your eyes are somewhere else and pulls you in closer, you feel his hot breath against your face. Fuck it.

You smash your lips against his, catching Felix by surprise. You feel as he eases into the kiss, he slightly smiles tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. You wish you could stay like this forever, just the two of you. You really liked Felix, he was always there for you even though you barely knew him. Actually now that you think of it you didn't know anything about felix besides that he was a bartender. You wish you could know everything a bout him, you wished that you had met him instead of your dumbass ex. But i guess not, all you had was this one kiss.

Permanent tag list: @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @ot8skz-wifey

lmk if u wanna be added to the tag list ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[mrhaitch]

HIHI Mr. Haitch! Thank you for the cucumber poems. @flaneur001 thank you so much for yours as well! I always feel kinda weird know that others are also reading my asks and I’ve always kinda thought that y’all might hate me and my personality so really thank you. I’m feeling better, less like I was hit by a truck. Although to be fair I woke up with a migraine at like 5:30 am went “fuck no” then went straight back to bed. I woke up again at 11:00am though and got lots of work done after taking the max amount of extra strength Tylenol. :). To everyone who reads this: YOU GOT THIS! Keep going! Even if it feels like everything is shit I promise it can get better! And despite me being a random anon with stupid questions I CARE FOR ALL OF YOU :)

How many colours of towel do you have? I find that people with children have more colourful towels than people without.

Favourite way to drink coffee? Or tea? Whichever you prefer or both!

Favourite PARODY of a song? I love word crimes by Weird Al Yankovich!

FUN FACT: The 50 shades of grey would’ve never existed if 9/11 didn’t happen. For a very brief summary: 9/11 > my chemical romance > twilight based off of my chemical romance and Harry Potter > fan fiction of twilight > change names = 50 shades of grey!

Glad you're feeling better, and I can only apologise for the poem. Poetry has never really been my bag, but I do enjoy a limerick.

1. Too many and in varying degrees of repair.

2. Favourite? If it's good quality, a cortado or a ristretto with textured milk. Otherwise I'm happy with a french press or well brewed pour-over. At home I have a coffee machine which I mostly use to make americanos in the.morning, and hot chocolates in the winter.

3. Uhm. Drawing a blank. Do weird mash-ups count? I'll post a couple:

4. What a horrifying series of events. Yet another thing 9/11 ruined.

[ohsoulymoons]

Confession 0.2

Duncan... being stinky makes sense

Duncan of my version :P

He can't help it , running around everywhere also basically biased on past boyfriends and I be like yummy then gag later on after while 4 days with them.

Sometimes stinky sweat makes my brain want tear you apart and pull out a wedding ring then drag to the church say vows

Musty fog really can be factor to no thoughts just stupid actions

That's why I'm like THAT MAN STINKS AND COURTNEY WOULD RATHER DIED THAN TELLING YOU SHE LOVES HIS MUSTY SWEATY FORM, BLACK ICE AXE SPRAY, AND APOLLO ALUMINUM-FREE DEODORANT FORMULA STICK

A clean Duncan smells like forest pine cones, hints of smoking with fire, red polo cologne known as Polo Red Eau de Toilette, and Axe Phoenix deodorant and vodka with tequila shots somehow

HE SHOWERS BUT AT WHAT CIST EVERYONE SAYS HE DOESN'T!!!

I don't usually sweat everyone gets mad at me after intense workout or 4 hours of labor then I lay down or rest I am sweating like a pig and I'm like ah don't look at me like leaking all the sweat out like nothing

Yes I memorized scents of past lovers, I even memorized their eyes, the way they fell asleep and what they fear most and how wale them up safely from nightmares, and made a mental list of their favorite products to buy them to replace them before they ran out before they notice it.

I used be super hyper focused on being too feminine to scare the gay thoughts away or the mean comments on my body like my version Courtney the need to look perfect always

But

Now I'm mixture of them both lol. I use axe myself lol scares off some they mean men away and I get cute girls to look at me sometimes ❤️ it doesn't help I dress up like them lol homies now out in public with red converse on top.

I hide my hair under my in my black champion snapback and black oversized hoodie usually too with my face mask on sometimes can be confusing experience to people who see me out in the open

Like Courtney will freak out if she thinks she stinky

Based on my personal experience in University I used to have a long routine of 5 days to get ready to even consider going on a date with someone everyday I would brush my teeth three times , twice daily flossing them! A night when I wasn't spending the time with some random guy or person I would have my retainer in at 8:00 with a facial typing away and fixing my papers before they were due in 2 weeks listening to my roommate or letting her explain her essay on the legal system. And as a psychology major and her as the law major or pre-law we actually helped you each other a lot and made sure to find the right etiquette or whatever she needed to make sure she won her fake cases or got the highest grade she could. By university I was c student and burn out hah no more A's and high caliber of life and learn how to calm down and also I realize I wasn't God's gift to man but I could use my ability to copy everyone's energy to use this God complex against others that annoy me often.

Basically: Courtney

5:00am Awake

5:30 am Yoga and pray/fight God again

6:00 to 8:30 am at the gym deadlifting with her best gal

9 long ass shower ritual, goat milk soap bar from Australia, rice water Shampoo and conditioner bar like from kitsch, body scrub lavender of course, then outside of shower routine eye cream for sensitive skin and to lessen dark circles, rose oil like Instituto Espanol Rosa Body Oil then drying herself up putting on Tree Hut’s Vanilla Whipped Body Butter to finally spray once her old rarely used Justin Bieber Someday Eau De Parfum the two sprays of Bath & Body Works A Thousand Wishes Fine Fragrance Mist, shaving/plucking/waxing/ new or fix nails on Thursday to Saturdays, she shaped heart somewhere with purple jewelry of a C

Shower early

Bath rarely afraid of uti her mother told that at a young age she afraid of finding out

Her other rituals usually at night. She carries emergency bags in her thick ass backpack 4 chapsticks 2 unopened different vanilla to mango to cotton candy to pumpkin spice, sewing kit, a mini first aid, 6 water bottles somehow, her lunch, her laptop, spare clothes just incase, and everything else she needs for the day!

[drivenbywords]

𝐀 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞.

"𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦, 𝘣����𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨." - Mother Teresa Dear diary,

Second entry coming right at ya cause why not. Anyway, I told mom about my previous pages with my emotions and where my head was at. All she really did was frown and suggest that I write some things that calm me down. So, I guess I’ll take her offer up and attempt to do what everyone and their fucking mother tells me to do and ‘just think or write happy thoughts.’ The only thing that comes to my mind is the rain. Yes, the rain helps me with my thoughts, and I know it sounds like some cliché shit but it’s true. Whether it’s standing in the middle of my driveway during a downpour at 5:00pm or watching the storm from the window in my bedroom at 3:00am. It’s amazing to me for some reason. Let me show you how.

Picture yourself having the worst possible day ever; bad breakup, horrible fight with your friends, stressful day at work cause of your boss, someone spilling your food all over the floor, getting a really fucking sad handjob from your ex, whatever the case may be. You thought the day would never end and all you wanted to do was just isolate yourself from every human being around you. But then you decide to take a look out your window to collect your thoughts for a while, maybe just to catch a glimpse of a quick storm. Then something in your gut tells you to go outside and take a breath away from reality. You need to be back into your own realm and maybe the fresh air would guide you to the right direction. As you take that first step out into nature, the first droplet touches your skin. Then the next one follows the first.

Afterwards, you feel more of the rain hitting your exhausted body. You close your eyes, exhaling the long-awaited breath that had to be released out to the world. It’s your silent way of wanting to be heard and seen. It’s your quiet and temporary escape from everything. The rain awakens your other perspective of the little things. It makes you realize that just because you’re feeling those raindrops on your body, you are a human on this earth and that you matter. Yes, I am aware that all of what I just wrote was very well-worn and musty. But all that I’m really saying is the rain makes me feel visible. Feeling the rain on my skin, in my own hair, snaps me into... the truth, if that makes sense?

It’s a sign from mother nature, telling me and my mind that I’ll be alright someday. Or not. But even if I don’t get better, at least she knows that I exist and I’m not invisible to the human eye, let alone the mother of earth. The rain is the moment of peace for us. It’s a mesmerizing peace. It’s one constant thing that everyone existing right now has. No matter who you are or what you look like. At the end of the day, we’ll always have the rain. And I think that’s what pushes me little by little everyday to not want to leave this stubborn little world. Find comfort in little things; find peace in random shit. 

So yeah, long story short, to answer one of the many questions my mother asks me, the rain is my best friend and I’m happy to have that reminder that I’m human. If I could thank the rain, I would. I don’t give a shit if that sounds stupid as fuck to say, I would happily thank the rain for being there for me when no one else lifted a finger for me. 

From,

Jen.

[sugaroto]

So we're all inclusive

You get to eat and drink anything you want from 7:00am-11:00pm for free (minus some specific stuff from LISTS)

You can have as much water as-

Omg why do tourists have the need to scream

-As you want, you'll hear my thoughts in the meantime yes.

Thing is, every drink is on a glass

We don't give out bottles

If you want a bottle you buy from the mini market

So this lady comes

There's no water in our room

Yes you can take water from the mini market or from the bars on a glass

And she started screaming. Fucking screaming

People came out of the fucking restaurant got out of their rooms to see what the fuck was up

Mind you, I just got there. I got there at like some minutes before 7pm her tantrum was done by 7:10

She started slamming the reception table (πάγκο?) and I kid you not it was so audible I thought she was gonna break it and it's fucking marble

HOW DARE YOU NOT PROVIDE US WITH WATER THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE ITS 35 DEGREES

There is water on the mini market and on the bar

MY KIDS ARE HUNGRY

You can go to the restaurant, it's open now

I DON'T WANT TO GO TO THE RESTAURANT

.

Omfg

She was like YOU EXPECT ME TO GO TO MY ROOM HOLDING A GLASS LIKE A CRAZY PERSON

And boss was like Yes some people take glasses to their rooms you can do that

MY ROOM IS FAR

(mind you there is also a pool bar next to her room, it was closed at the time but there still is)

Μαλακές όταν σας λέω ούρλιαζε εννοώ ούρλιαζε. Όχι φώναζε. Ούρλιαζε

And fuck she was screaming I want to speak to the manager and boss is like I don't like your tone don't speak to me like that and she's like I do what the fuck I want

Like Jesus at this point. This behavior is not normal we were trying to have a conversation who the fuck screams like that

And my boss doesn't have a lot of patience and she didn't like that tone

She tried calling the manager but he wasn't picking up so she went to the office and she fucking followed her

She was also fucking tall towering over Boss like YES GO CALL YOUR MANAGER I WANT TO SPEAK TO THE HIGHEST ONE IN CHARGE HERE

I mean. If anything, you're gonna talk to someone who's lower than her on charge but go off

AAAH AND BEFORE THAT while they were still at reception she was like

YOURE SHAKING. I LIKE THAT YOU'RE SHAKING

Sbdhhd WHO THE FUCK SAYS THAT😭 sounds like It came straight out of a bdsm movie are you lost babygorilla what the fuck was that is this some kind of kink 😭

Anyway at some point boss is in the office and lady is in front of us meanwhile we don't know what the fuck to do cause we're waiting for the manager

And I try to be like "It's the rules, you can have as much water as you want but not in bottles" or something I don't even remember cause she started screaming again and interrupted me like I DEMAND TO HAVE BOTTLES IN MY ROOM

Did I mention she had 3 kids she screamed in front of kids like 3-7 ages

Boss was like if you don't stop I will call the police I want you out of my fucking hotel, take your money back and leave

And she's like IT'S NOT YOUR HOTEL

IT IS MY HOTEL I AM THE OWNER

Yes It's her hotel

OH OF COURSE THAT EXPLAINS IT THIS HOTEL IS SO BAD CAUSE YOUR MANAGER IS FUCKING CRAZY

So yeah wtf was screaming to a random employee normal but once she's actually the owner she's the crazy one

IF I KNEW WATER WAS NOT INCLUDED I WOULD NOT HAVE COME HERE I WILL MAKE A BAD REVIEW ΧΕΣΤΗΚΑΜΕ

I have mixed up some lines on when they were said cause I'm getting visions of the whole thing but she started like

THE HOTEL IS 8.1 POINTS WHY IS IT SO AWFUL HOW DARE YOU

That is your opinion, the points are from the reviews the guests are leaving

Jesus fucking Christ I didn't even know what I'm describing anymore but by the end the manager showed up

And he went with the husband to the office to talk and somehow we now have to send 5 bottles of water daily to their room

Which like. Is stupid she should not get what she wanted with that attitude we should have called the police she was about to start a physical fight

Oh and before that she was like THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I SEE THAT HAPPEN EVERYWHERE WE HAVE GONE THEY GIVE FREE WATER WEVE BEEN HERE TO [ISLAND] MANY TIMES

And boss is like IN WHAT HOTEL

AND SHE FUCKING SAID THE NAME OF A DIFFERENT ISLAND 😭😭😭😭

Like. You know at one point I'm scared I might get slapped in the face and then she says shit like I like that you're shaking and mixes up islands and I'm about to laugh with her stupidity

Did her parents not fucking taught her manners what the fuck was that

This is not important but she was czech btw so just so you know she's an embarrassment and if you see Marie on the streets scream at her fucking face for revenge

Mark the date y'all 04/08/24 the day I got screamed at at work by a customer for something I have no control over🤪✌️

To be fair she was mainly screaming at the boss but I got screamed at too

[sarcasticallybee]

Shots fired

Spencer x reader

Sitting on Spencer's couch you'd been reading one of your favorite books. It was early, at least for a weekend it was. You'd come by Spencer's hoping to catch him before a phone call from the team, however he seemed to have been gone already.

   You thought about just going home, but decided to stay and clean the already, mostly pristine apartment. It was organized in his own chaotic way. You'd slowly put away his paperwork and obsessively marked books.

  You then walked over to his nearly empty sink washing the dishes. After that it was doing his laundry and maybe make and remake his bed.

  Today was your last day off which is why you were hoping to catch him. You worked at an elementary school and taught a rambuctious group of 2nd graders. They were great kids and you loved them all dearly.

  That being said tomorrow was Monday so you had things that you needed to prepare. That is why you called Spencer and let him know you'd been there. You knew he was observant and may panic if he saw his apartment.

   "Hey Spence, it's me. I just wanted to let you know I stopped by. I love you and I'll see you when you're back. Kisses." Then you hung up.

  Nothing could have prepared you for the next day.

You woke up at 5:00am and got ready for the day. The school day didn't start until 8:30, but you wanted to catch a shower.

Swinging your legs over your bed and wobbled to the bathroom, grabbing a towel and your brush on the way. You had your clothes laid out the night before, surprisingly you were set for Monday it was Friday when you just threw your clothes on and prayed they matched.

  That being said you sauntered into the small room flipping the light on and flinching at it's brightness.

   "Ugh no! Tis to early for this." You groaned plopping the towel on the toilet.

  You stripped the overnight clothes off and turned the shower on, the steam rising from the enclosed space and into the rest of the room.

   Pulling the curtains aside you stepped in, the hot water cascading down your back and soaking your hair. The water washed away your sleepiness and you began to shampoo and condition your locks. You hummed as the suds made your hair squishy and soft. You giggled before putting your head back under the rushing water. The soap washed out gathering around your feet and down the drain.

   Once you were sure the soap was out and that your body felt refreshed, you shut the water off. Stepping out of the shower your feet padded on the shower mat. You smiled reaching over and grabbing the grey towel.

  Drying your body you then dried your hair. Once you were sure you wouldn't drip water everywhere you brushed through your damp hair.

  Spinning back to your door you wrapped the towel tightly around yourself. You needed to get dressed and you'd sleepily left the clothes in your room. Huffing you opened the door, the cool air rushing at your damp flesh, goosebumps rising.

Shivering you padded to your room and made sure the curtains were closed, windows locked, and then locking the bedroom door. You heard all sorts of stories from Penelope about how women were attacked in their own homes while they were vulnerable. No not you and not today.

   Quickly you slipped into your clothes, which happened to be a pair of black leggings and a (favorite color) dress that ended just above the knee, with a light overcoat

  You huffed before grabbing your phone. 5:45 am. Good you were on a roll. You lived about 15 minutes away from the school so you had time.

  Sliding your sneakers on you tied them before hearing your front door open. You immediately jumped up, opening your night stand, and pulling out the pistol you'd kept stashed there.

   You crept over to the door and unlocked the knob. With the way your apartment was set up you couldn't see the front door or the kitchen. Stepping into the hall you slinked down towards the living room. Once you entered you saw the back of the person kneeling in front of your fridge.

   You almost laughed out loud, but clicked the safety back on.

   "Spence you couldn't text me before coming over?" You giggled as the brunette jumped, hitting his head off the top of the fridge.

  "Ouch! Crap. I'm sorry y/n I wanted to surprise you. I figured I could stop by early enough that I won't be called in." You laughed at the male before placing the gun in another drawer in the kitchen. 

  "Awe that's sweet Spencer. What were you looking for?" You laughed walking over to him and pushing his bangs out of his face.

  "Ehm well I was looking for some coffee creamer because the barista forgot it. They were really busy." You nodded before brushing past him and to the refrigerator.

  "Ahh let's see I have hazelnut and vanilla and oh! There's some caramel, too."

   You heard him whisper a soft "Vanilla, please." Before you stood up the container in hand. Turning around you saw his eyes were downcast and your eyebrows raised in concern.

  "Spencer. Is everything alright?" He seemed to jump at the question, but nodded reaching for the bottle in your hand.

   "No. There's something bothering you, love. What happened yesterday?" His eyes widened as you placed the bottle behind him on the counter.

  "You can talk to me. You know that. Now spill, Spence." He shuddered slightly before sighing.

   "There's a case. The unsub is targeting elementary schools in the area. He targets the female employees killing them, talking about it's them or the kids. He even used a recording to lure them. Still no one is taking us seriously! We've gone to several of the schools, even the superintendent! They're refusing to shut the schools down saying that 'our employees are trained for this.'" He huffed heavily running his fingers through his hair.

  "This guy is smart y/n. He's already gone to three schools and killed 23 people and-" he choked up as he thought about the 13 children who died.

  "Spence, what school would he go for next? He's smart and calculated I'm sure. Where would he target next?" You looked at your best friend worry in your eyes. He looked up at you the gears in his head turning.

  "That's the thing y/n he's unpredictable. We thought he had a connection to one and he attacked another. We have no idea which school he'll target next. So far all of his attacks would seem random but they're not." He sighed out rubbing his face.

  "He's killed 23 people. 10 teachers and 13 children. We thought we were so close Y/n and he killed again. We can't lose. We can't let him kill again." His voice sounded so strained.

  You went to answer him when his phone beeped. He jumped slightly before pulling it out.

  "I got to go. The team needs me. I'm sorry. I love you! Be safe" he rushed kissing your forehead, before slipping out of the front door.

   Fisting your hands you sighed. This man could target your school next. Grabbing your purse and keys you rushed out the door.

     "Yes sir I understand there's no evidence or reason for him to come here but please listen to me. If we take the precautions, just until he's caught there's less likely of a chance for anyone to get hurt!

   We are an elementary school. We don't have to switch classes. We can have indoor recess, allowing the children to be safe, to learn, to have fun!

  We can have lunch in our classrooms and avoid being out in the open. This man is dangerous sir. Please."

   Your boss looked at you his eyes sharp.

  "Ms. L/n I'm sure this man is dangerous, and I'm sure you're worried but there is no reason for us to go into a panic. You may do as you wish with your class, I'll permiss it but I cannot make the other teachers to through with it. I'm sorry." You sighed but nodded.

  "Thank you Victor. I appreciate it but please inform them?" He hesitated but nodded.

  "I will."

Walking back to your classroom your shoes thudded along the tile. At least you got permission to protect your class. It was definitely something.

   Unlocking your door you pulled together today's activities. You'd have to make sure everything was prepared for if something happened.

   Going through your cupboards and closets, you emptied or organized them, to maybe hide the kids in. It wasn't much but you wanted to keep them safe.

  School would be in session soon and you needed to be sure that you were prepared.

    "Hey Lola! How are you today?" You greeted the young girl as she plopped into her desk.

  "I'm mad. Mommy told me that Skylar isn't coming to school today! And she is  like my bestest best friend!" You laughed as she threw her arms up in frustration.

   "Maybe that's what's best Little Lady. Don't worry though! We might play hide and seek later!" You said handing her a squishy ball to squeeze.

   Soon you had all of your kids for today. You may have called the parents and let them know of the risks and  Victor might not be impressed but you'd deal with his wrath later.

    Looking around you told the class of the plans today and gave them a math game to play in small groups. The door of course was locked along with the door stop.

   You gave each child an assignment, but made it a game so that they wouldn't be scared. You made Lola and Jaiden your captains who took care of their crew. If someone had to go to the bathroom you'd take a small group and leave the other group to watch the classroom. Then you'd come back and switch.

    That being said you were constantly checking in on Spencer. He didn't answer much but he did reassure you to his best ability. At least he had been.

   You didn't understand what was happening until you heard someone bump into the microphone in the office.

It made a terrible screaming noise before you heard Haley, the secretary announce that everyone had to take the school intruder precautions.

  Quickly you told the kids to go to their "bases" or hiding places. Jaiden and his team hid in the cupboards while Lola and hers hid in the closet.

  You? You stood next to the door out of sight. Earlier you'd put up a curtain so that if the guy did show up he couldn't look in.

   You heard the other kids in other classes asking what was going on and some of them were crying. You grimaced at the thought of their faces.

   You waited for a while before Victor came on.

  "I understand you are scared. I need you all to stay calm and keep the children safe. No matter what you hear, or see DO NOT leave your classrooms. Thank you that is all."

   Glancing around you began pushing some of the desks in front of the door. Then you ran over to the window and unlocked one. You didn't open it for fear of making your escape obvious. If you needed to get the kids out quickly you would.

   Pulling out your phone your dialed Spencers number. If you heard any evidence of the unsub he'd be on speed dial. That being said you told the kids to stay hidden and go over their "battle plans".

   Steadying your breathing you walked over to the door and stood next to it out of sight.

   It didn't take long before you heard screaming, a female. She was yelling about how it was the schools corrupt system that got her son killed. That if they had listened to protocol and protected him he'd still be alive.

  You gasped before calling Reid.

"Hello?" Shuddering you replied quietly.

  "The unsub is actually a woman. She has a dead son. He died in a school shooting or something similar." The other end was silent for a moment before you heard some scuffling.

   "Y/n?" You sighed as you recognised Hotch's voice.

  "Yes sir?"

"I need you to tell me what's going on." Before you could answer a loud gun shot was heard.

  "Y/n! Are you okay!" You heard Spencer panic.

   "I- I am fine. So are the kids. I don't know about the others though. The unsub. She's here Spencer and she's mad." You cried softly before another shot echoed throughout the building.

   "Y/n. We're on our way. Just stay safe. We're coming." You nodded before mumbling a soft 'okay' and hanging up.

   "YOU TEACHERS KILLED MY BABY! YOU DIDN'T PROTECT HIM! HE DIDN'T DESERVE TO DIE. HE WAS A CHILD!" you gasped as she wailed before shooting her gun again. Directly into your door.

  Gasping you waited. You heard her walk over to the door before pulling on the handle.

  "Oh. So you think you can protect them huh? With a measly door and a glass window with a fucking curtain? No way in hell."

  With that she put the gun against the glass with a 'clank'. Before you could react and loud ringing filled your ears as she pulled the trigger.

   Glass flew everywhere as the woman laughed. Thinking fast you grabbed a desk and faced it towards the window holding it in place. With her only way in temporarily blocked you called for Lola.

  "Lola honey! C'mere!" You whisper yelled as the small girl crawled out.

  "Ms. L/n what was that? It was really loud and we're scared." You smiled softly.

  "I know honey but I need you to get all of your classmates and take them to the 3rd window. Do you understand?" She nodded quickly rushing around.

   Sighing in relief you jumped when another gun shot sounded.

    Gritting your teeth you let go of the desk, glad it stayed.

   Helping Lola gather them all was much harder then you wanted it to be, but they were scared and that you understood.

   "Okay my little adventures, we're gonna do an escape mission. I want you all to climb out of this window and hide in the bushes until the good guys come okay?" They nodded and you shivered in relief. Once they were safe you could do what you needed to.

   Quickly you put them on the counter and they climbed out, the taller boys going first to help the shorter ones.

   Finally it was Lola's turn and she looked at you with big watery eyes.

  "Ms. L/n I'm scared." Your heart broke before you hugged her.

  "Me too. Don't worry though our knight is coming princess." She cried as you put her on the counter helping her out.

   "Be safe. Hide. Go!" They all nodded and ran off. As soon as you were sure they were safe you rushed to the door that connected to Mr. Groves room. Unlocking it you rushed in all the kids looked at you wide eyed.

  "Hey guys! It's okay you need to be really quiet and come with me okay?" They cried and looked over at their teacher and you nearly screamed at the sight.

He had gotten hit by a stray bullet or something and was bleeding out on the floor.

  "Okay. Okay come on. Quietly." They nodded rushing into your classroom. When you had them all you helped them out like you did your own, giving them the same instructions.

   Rushing back the other class you took off your jacket pressing it into Steve's chest.

  "Hey Steve. How are you?" You laughed awkwardly and he gurgled at you. Crying you kept pressure.

   "They're all safe. I helped them. It's okay." You smiled at him and he smiled lightly and you sobbed quietly as his life slowly seeped out onto your hands and jacket.

   Slowly pulled your hands away you jumped when you heard sniffling.

   Whipping around you looked under his desk finding a little boy.

  "Hey hey! What's your name handsome?" You asked quickly wiping the blood off.

  "C-christopher, b-but my mo-mommy calls m-me Chris." He sobbed.

   "Okay Chris why don't I help you out with your other friends?" The boy shook his head aggressively in a 'no' motion.

  "I can't." Your eyebrows raised before your eyes widened.

   "Christopher, are you paralyzed?" The boy nodded and you let out a breath.

  "Okay come here. I'll carry you." His eyes widened.

  "We, we can't go out there. The bad lady will shoot us!" You winced at his loud voice and he seemed to realize what he'd done because he began to softly cry.

   "Ahh honey it's okay. We won't move. We won't move." You hushed pulling him into you.

   You sat there for what felt like forever before you heard Derek talking down the Unsub.

  "Ma'am you don't want to do this! Put the gun down. Ma'am!" You and Christopher jumped when someone slammed into your classroom next door.

Pulling Christopher into your lap you held him close as he cried into your chest.

   "THEY KILLED HIM! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT. THEY KILLED HIM." You jumped at how close she seemed.

   Breathing out shakily you put Chris down gesturing for him to be quiet.

   Slowly you pulled yourself up. Glancing at the door connecting the rooms you saw it was partially opened.  

   Taking a deep breath you slowly made your way over jumping when the woman began to yell again.

   This was your chance. Running at the door you slammed it shut turning the lock.

   "YOU CAN'T PROTECT THEM!" She screamed slamming into the now locked door.

   Quickly you dragged a few desks to block her from entering. From there you unlocked the main door.

   "Chris, baby, I'm going to pick you up and I want you to close your eyes. Do you understand?" He nodded quickly tears bubbling up.

   "Okay come here honey." He dragged himself over to you and you quickly gathered him into your arms.

   "Okay you have to trust me. Just close your eyes." You hushed quickly and quietly opening the classroom door, as the women continued to bang and scream in yours.

   Rushing into the hall you saw Derek's eyes widen as you held Chris to your chest, the blood from Steve staining your outfit.

   "It's not mine!" You assured as you jogged to him, Chris hiding in your hair.

   "The kids are outside hiding in the bushes." You whispered once you were close enough so the woman wouldn't hear you.

   "Mr. Groves, she killed him. And Chris he's paralyzed." You informed as Derek ushered you behind him.

   "You need to get out of here. If she sees you she'll-" *BANG*

   You yelped in shock as the shot rang out.

   "Move in!" A man yelled followed by his team.

   Christopher held onto you sobbing into your dress. You held him close and hushed him, whispering reassurances into his ear.

    Derek led you outside and when you got there you were surrounded by police and EMT's.

     You handed Christopher off to one of the women, promising him he'd be okay. Then you ran over to the bushes and found both your students and Steve's.

     "Hey guys! Come one the good guys are here." You promised as Lola ran to you.

    "Hey princess." You murmured as she cried into your shoulder. The other kids surrounded you in a group hug.

     Standing up you held Lola to your chest.

    "Come on guys." You ushered them to the authorities.

     You were shocked when a woman mobbed you and began to cry as she held you and Lola.

     "Thank you! Thank you so much." She cried and you were to shocked to do anything.

     When she pulled away she held Lola's face in one hand and yours in the other.

      "You don't know me, but I know you. You saved my little boy Chris." She sniveled and you nodded.

    "Chris. Is he okay?" You asked as you set Lola down next to you keeping ahold of her hand.

     "Yes thanks to you. He's a little shaken up of course but thank you!" She continued.

     You nodded before you led her to an ambulance where Chris was sitting.

     "Hey Chris. This is Lola. You mind if she stays with you and your mom?" You asked as you brushed Lola's hair back.

    He nodded patting the spot next to him.

    "Thank you. Lola honey I'll be right back." You assured her before turning to scan the crowd, looking for Spencer. 

     When you found him you rushed to him. Calling out his name, he turned, and you ran into his arms.

    "Spencer." You wept lightly and he held you, wrapping his arms around you as he held you tightly.

    "You did it." He whispered and you nodded.

     "We did it." You told him pulling away.

   He nodded and kissed your forehead.

   "You're amazing." He murmured.

  You shuddered lightly.

    "Amazingly gross. I- I need to change. Steve..." You muttered and he nodded.

    "I think JJ might have a change of clothes.... Or I could ask Penelope?" He suggested and you nodded hating the blood on your clothes.

   Leading you towards his team mates, he kissed your forehead.

    When you got there Derek clapped you on the shoulder, congratulating you for your quick thinking.

    Hotch nodded to you in respect and Emily and JJ fretted over you.

    Emily gave you one of her shirts, and you borrowed a pair of sweats from Morgan.

    "Thanks guys." You smiled tightly as Spencer held you to his side, one arm wrapped around your waist.

    Leaning into his shoulder you closed your eyes. Today definitely didn't go to plan.

     You found out later after you asked what happened, that the woman was named Marissa Timmins. Her son was killed in a school shooting after one of the teachers snapped.

     The boy was eight. The snap occured after she found out that the man who'd killed her child was going with an insanity plea.

    That being said the gunshot you'd heard was her... well taking her life into her own hands.

    Everyone was deemed okay but were understandably shaken up. Luckily no children were harmed. Haley was being treated for a gunshot wound to her hip and Victor had been shot in the abdomen but was rushed to the hospital.

     It seemed the only casualties this time were Steve and Marissa.

   That night Spencer had taken you home and stayed with you the entire time, which the team understood. Several parents sent you thank you cards, and so did the kids. School had been cancelled for the rest of the week so you slept in, or tried to.

    The nightmares weren't helping but waking up in Spencer's arms calmed your racing heart.

     You were glad you had him. So glad. That being said Steve's funeral was on Thursday, and then despite how everyone else felt you attended Marissa's as well.

Maybe it was to see how her family saw her before she lost her child, maybe it was to try and get to know her for who she had been, or maybe it was so you could put a face to the woman who'd killed so many people.

It was closed casket for her, but the pictures showed enough. As for Steve's, well you felt terrible. Seeing his wife and two daughters, it broke your heart.

You offered your condolences and Mrs. Groves held you for a long time. She thanked you for being there for him in his final moments.

Spencer waited for you both times, ready to hold you as you sobbed.

You never understood how Spencer could do this, see people die, day in and day out but you loved him for it.

Standing on your tip toes you pecked him on the lips.

"Let's go home?" You asked and nodded walked around the car and opening your door.

"Let's go home." He confirmed kissing your cheek.

[teenage-idiot]

In the Blink of an Eye - 9

Avengers Age of Ultron | Quicksilver x Female Reader Fan-fiction.

*WARNING SPOILERS*

Contains strong language, sexual references and mentions of death.

1122 words

CHAPTER 9

I was running, sprinting actually, as fast as my legs could carry me. It wasn't enough though. They were gaining, and fast. Soon they would catch me. Soon I would be theirs. 

I felt someone grab me and I fell to the ground. I didn't make an effort to get up; I just lay there, unable to move. I felt somebody standing over me, and then suddenly they flipped me over onto my back to face them.

"Thor?" I asked.

He brought his hammer up above his head, ready to strike, and then-

I jolted awake, strands of hair stuck to my sweaty forehead. 

'Just a dream,' I thought.

I got up and walked to the bathroom. My hands were clammy, and my breathing heavy. I grasped the sink counter and looked in the mirror.

I looked like shit.

I removed the pieces of hair from my forehead, and turned on the cold tap. I splashed some water on my face and washed my hands. I then proceeded to go back to bed, stealing a quick glance at the alarm clock on my bedside table.

2:00am.

I groaned and rolled over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. It was such a vivid dream, and so unexpected, so terrifying. It was also really random, I mean, apart from Tony freaking out at me, the Avengers had never done anything to hurt me. Quite frankly, they'd done the opposite. I shrugged it off, and rolled onto my side, thinking that I should try to get some more sleep before I had to be up at 5:00am.

I smacked my hand down on the alarm, shutting it off. I sighed, sat up, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and got to my feet. I stretched my arms up over my head, and began getting ready for the day ahead. 

I was ready soon enough and exited my room, closing the door behind me groggily. I trudged down the hall and shoved my hands in my pockets, wishing I could just disappear inside my hoodie.

Eventually, I made it downstairs to the cafeteria, where breakfast was being served. I felt like a zombie, and probably looked that way too, but nevertheless, pushed open the door and went inside, dragging my feet as I walked.

Not everyone was down yet, only Nat, Clint, Steve and Bruce. Bruce nodded at me when he spotted me, and Steve threw a casual 'morning' my way.

I sat down at the table next to Nat, who took one look at me and began to chuckle.

"Rough night kid?" 

"Mmhm," I mumbled.

Nat turned her head back to the conversation. I wondered how she looked so good this early in the morning. It was so unfair.

"What are we talking about?" I rubbed my eyes whilst speaking, and gave a large yawn at the end of my sentence.

"We were just talking about how training's going to go today," she answered chirpily.

Great. That meant they were probably going to make today's training a living hell.

There was a sudden gush of wind as the cafeteria's doors flew open and none other than Pietro appeared sitting next to me.

"Pietro, no fair!" Wanda called after him as she appeared in the doorway, "I said no powers!"

He looked back at her over his shoulder and just smirked, and then looked back at me.

I raised one eyebrow at him, glanced at Wanda, and then looked back at him.

"Wanda challenged me to a race, and I beat her," he spoke smugly.

"Only because you cheated," she snapped, pouting like a little kid as she did so.

After a brief argument between the pair, we all ate breakfast and then got on with the rest of our day.

Later on, after training had finished and I was all cleaned up, I was sitting in Tony and Bruce's lab, chatting away to Bruce. Then Thor walked in.

I suddenly felt uneasy in his presence. Perhaps it was the dream? I pulled myself together and tried to convince myself it was just a dream and nothing more.

Everyone else walked in after him, like a flock of sheep following one another.

"Ah, y/n," he greeted me, and I smiled back.

He raised his hand to give me a friendly pat on the shoulder, but I suddenly flinched away from him, thinking back to the dream I'd had.

Everybody stopped and looked at me, surprised at my actions. I looked at Thor's confused face, which was just as surprised as everyone else's. 

I didn't know what to do, so I got up and walked out of the room. 

I should've apologized, but everyone watching me to see what I might do next freaked me out. They probably all thought I was crazy, I couldn't help it though. The memories from the dream had come flooding back all at once, and in the heat of the moment, I freaked.

I began wandering the halls aimlessly, not having a clue where I was going, like I was in a trance.

"Y/n," I heard a soft voice behind me speak. I turned around slowly and came face to face with Pietro.

He took one look at me and his face just dropped. He came closer, taking hold of my shoulders, and looked me in the eyes.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, looking as if he were about to cry himself.

I hadn't even realised, so why was I crying? I didn't know. 

He didn't wait long for an answer, and instead brought me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me protectively. I hugged him back, and we stayed like that for a while. When we pulled away I spoke up.

"You probably think I'm pathetic," I chuckled half-heartedly.

"No, of course I don't think that about you," he replied.

"I didn't even know I was crying until you pointed it out," I told him, "and as for Thor-"

"It's okay, you don't need to tell me," he said soothingly.

"No, I want to. It's just I had this dream and, well long story short Thor killed me in it, and just the raising of the hand, I was expecting him to hit me or something. I know you think I'm crazy right now, but I just panicked. I got caught up in the moment," I finished speaking, out of breath, and waited for him to say something.

"Y/n, I don't think you're crazy. I think you just had a bad dream," he said honestly.

I gave him a weak smile, and he put his arm around my shoulder as we turned to face the same way, and walk down the corridor together.

[gaemkyuu]

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Warnings: death of a loved one and grief. There is one mention to drinking a bottle of wine but all characters in the story are above the age of 21. A/N: this is based off a post @ah2113​ made a little while ago! I liked the idea and decided to write a cute fluffy piece on it! Hope you like it! “Reader and Charlie are best friends and they met on JATP. Charlie and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know. The readers grandma passes away and she calls Charlie, who is in a completely different state/country, in tears about the situation. Charlie feels horrible and completely drops everything he’s doing and immediately flies out to the reader and surprises them. He is with them throughout the whole viewing and funeral and meets her entire family. Everybody mistakens him for the readers boyfriend because of how much he is doing to help and tells the reader that he is clearly in love with them.”  Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life. 

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Charlie was in the middle of an interview when his phone started vibrating. Normally he kept it on airplane mode, but today he forgot. He quickly reached for his phone and saw her name pop up on the screen, losing focus for a brief moment on the interview. 

“Pardon me? Could you repeat the question?” Charlie was trying so hard to focus on the interview at hand but knowing he was on the last question, made it all the more difficult to focus when he knew she was calling.

“Charlie, the fans want to know. Are you single?” he chuckled but since he was distracted, he didn’t give a really good answer.

“Kinda” he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth and the fact that he started blushing made the situation worse! Thankfully the interviewer didn’t press any further into the matter and made a casual joke about it. They quickly wrapped the interview knowing that Charlie had another one scheduled right afterwards, but he had a few minutes to make up a phone call.

Amelie had worked on set for season one of Julie as a hair and make up artist and shocked many at how talented she was for her age. She got along well with the cast and would often hang out with them on their days off, but for some reason she gravitated the most to Charlie. Everyone often teased them about the chemistry they had and how they would make a great couple but both of them would laugh at the comments and deny any feelings towards one another. They were simply nothing more but really good friends.

Or so they thought.

Amelie was head over heels for the brunette and Charlie for her. She loved his smile and enthusiasm for life. She admired his work ethic and passion for what he did. She would squash every thought about being with Charlie because he was too good for her. She liked the weirdest things and entertained people with the most random facts. She could spend hours in an art and fashion museum, when most people could only spend so much time. Amelie saw herself as weird and knew that Charlie saw her as nothing more than a friend.

The opposite was true. Charlie loved her quirkiness and nerdiness around the strangest things. He loved that she was always so modest and humble, even though she had all the right to brag at how amazing she was at her talents. He loved how she was always up for trying something new and that she had an eye for fashion, design and art, but he knew she didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. That still didn’t stop Charlie from always being there for her.

“Charlie?” her voice came out in a broken and quiet whisper. He could tell that she was crying and he instantly felt his stomach drop. A few sniffles came from the other line before the voice spoke again. “She’s gone Charlie... Grandmaman is gone...” he could hear her voice start to shake again.

“Say the word Amelie and I am there” Charlie glanced at his watch,8:55pm. He had five more minutes until the next interview with the pop culture podcast from Sydney. This meant that it was 5:00am in London, where Amelie was working on Netflix’s newest series. “Ams?”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just didn’t know who else to talk to...” she sniffled quietly not sure what else to say.

“What time are you leaving to get to set?” 8:57pm, he was running out of time. He saw the notification that the next interviewer had signed on to their zoom meeting.

“I gotta be on set at 7:00am so the van will be here to pick me up at 6:30am. It’s my last day on set, so there’s that” she sniffled again, feeling herself calm down with Charlie on the other line. She desperately needed him, but she couldn’t ask him that. He was doing press for season 2 of Julie and the Phantoms and he needed to be available, not off consoling his friend who was madly in love with him. 

“Amelie, listen, I have to jump onto the next interview, but try to get a little more sleep and drink some water. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. When are you flying back?” Charlie felt awful having to hang up on her when he knew she needed him.

“I’ll be on the next flight out to Vancouver. Hopefully there’s a flight this evening back to Canada. My mom’s really upset and my siblings are rushing to get home for her” Amelie took a deep breath and listened to the frustrated sigh on the other end. He was probably annoyed that she called him. “Thank you for picking up Char”

“Anything for you Ams... I’m really sorry but I have to go now... If you’re busy when I call, can you let me know when you’re at the airport?” Amelie agreed and hung up the phone, flopping on the bed and a silent stream of tears falling from her eyes again. Meanwhile, Charlie sat in his LA bedroom, head in hands frustrated that he couldn’t be there for her.

***

Amelie watched out the window as the plane landed in Vancouver. She felt an anxiousness to get off the plane and be with her mom, but she knew she had to go through security and baggage. She didn’t notice that her leg was restlessly bouncing until the nice old lady beside her placed a hand on her lap. 

“Excited are we?” she smiled at her kindly and Amelie blushed, a little embarrassed. “I was once in love too. I get the feeling”

“Actually, I’m just anxious to be with my mom... My grandmother passed away yesterday and I wanna be there for her” the old lady’s smile changed to an empathetic one and she patted her knee.

“I’m sorry for your loss my dear... I lost my sister a year ago today. It is not an easy thing to grieve and I can tell that your soul feels heavy. You might want to think about sharing that load with someone” she smiled. A flight attendant interrupted their conversation letting them know that she had priority to leave the plane. The old woman then looked at Amelie and winked. “They’re letting us off the plane now honey. Thank you miss, but my daughter can grab my bags from the upper compartment, can’t she” baffled at the kindness of the old woman, Amelie dumbly nodded and stood to help her. As they made their way through the gate, an attendant was waiting for the old woman. “You can leave my bags with this gentle man” she smiled.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that” the old woman took her hand. “Your mother is fortunate to have you as a daughter. Now go and be with her” Amelie smiled and gave the old woman a hug, and teared up a bit remembering her own grandmother. Wiping away a tear, Amelie said thank you again and headed off to get her bags. To no surprise, getting her suitcase was a gong show because they had to share a lane with another flight. By the time she got there, tons of people waited right by the carousel for their bags, making Amelie stand in the back and tippy toe to see a glimpse of her bag. She was fortunate that a man had helped her as she squeezed her way to the front, waiting for her bag. With a deep breath, she exited the doors and dialed her mother.

“Hello? Maman? What car are you in? Oh wait! I see it!” Amelie quickly rushed outside of the door at YVR to get to her mother’s vehicle. She was able to find a flight that evening and she left right away. The flight was long, but she was able to make it home to her mother’s side in 24 hours. She trotted over to her mother’s vehicle that pulled into the loading zone, flashing their hazards on, her mother getting out of the passenger side. Amelie stopped for a moment, confused that her mother wasn’t driving the car. Her mother quickly embraced her in her arms and both of them shared a tearful hug. “Who’s driving maman?”

Charlie stepped out of the driver’s seat and took Amelie’s suitcase from her, as she stood there with her mouth open. “Surprise?” she immediately felt a sudden wave of emotion wash over her and she jumped into Charlie’s waiting arms crying as he held her tight. She felt sadness and happiness while grieving over her Grandmother and feeling elated at the sudden presence of the boy.

“How?” she sniffled and pulled away, wiping her tears.

“Charlie knew how sad you were over Grandmaman, so he texted me late last night and flew in early this morning” her mother explained. Amelie’s mother knew of her crush on the boy and always encouraged her to pursue the relationship further, but she always insisted to her mother that they would be nothing more than friends. Her mother would roll her eyes at her daughter every time she said that, knowing that the chemistry and the feelings were there, but the two were just too stubborn to admit it.

“That’s what friends are for right?” 

Right. Friends.

***

After being picked up at the airport, they went straight to her mother’s house and helped her mom plan out things for the funeral. Naturally, Charlie became the chauffer, driving Amelie and her mom around the city to make various appointments with funeral directors and lawyers. Amelie’s grandmother gave birth to five children and never remarried after her husband passed away. Amelie had very little recollection of her grandfather as he passed away when she was quite young. Each of her mother’s siblings had at least three kids and each child had at least three kids, making their family huge. That didn’t include her mother’s cousins and their families, all of which would be flying in to attend the funeral in two days time.

Running around was an emotionally exhausting task, not to mention the exhaustion that came with grief. The two women were grateful that Charlie was around for them that day as Amelie’s siblings slowly started to get into town. He ordered pizza for everyone, knowing that all of her siblings would be in Vancouver in time for the funeral. Her grandmother was clear that she wanted the viewing and funeral to be combined into one day, not wanting to prolong her burial process, something that they honored. But with that request, it meant a lot had to be done.

Amelie had four siblings, all of which were older than her, making her the baby of the family. Her brother Benoit had moved to New Brunswick to live with the love of his life Maxime, and he was the second to arrive. He had work to take care of and unfortunately Maxime couldn’t get the time off. Benoit got along very well with Charlie, connecting over Dieppe and how it differed from Fredericton where Benoit lived with his partner. Her twin sisters Rachelle and Rene got into Vancouver right before dinner and actually carried the pizza inside while Charlie paid. Both sisters lived in Toronto, one training on the Olympic figure skating team and the other working in Parliament. Throughout the night, they joked about how cute Charlie was and how they were both single and didn’t mind dating someone younger. This annoyed Amelie but she wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Her third oldest brother, Theo, was the last to arrive, getting in way past dinner but before midnight. He lived in New York pursuing photography and had to finish a shoot before he could come home. Hearing this, Charlie asked him multiple questions about photography when they sat around their mother’s fireplace that night. It was nice to be able to gather as a family before the craziness of their relatives. French Canadian families were big, loud and full of personality, but Amelie knew Charlie understood this dynamic very well.

The next two days passed by in a blur with Charlie helping out wherever he could and sometimes locking himself in her mother’s office to do an interview or meeting here and there. Amelie was so grateful for him because every time she felt overwhelmed or that she was going to cry, he somehow made it to her side, comforting her and helping her be strong. Rachelle and Rene kept telling her to claim Charlie before they did, but Amelie would always insist that they were friends. But when her brothers got involved, Amelie couldn’t help but think that maybe her siblings were right. Maybe she should ask Charlie out, but how could she do that when her entire family was still dealing with the loss of her grandmother?

Just last night, Charlie sat up late into the evening comforting Amelie as she put the slideshow together on her Macbook. She could hardly look at the pictures or listen to the music without tearing up and having mini cry sessions on his shoulder, something he took in stride. It also didn’t help that she had consumed an entire bottle of wine...

In all honesty, Charlie couldn’t be more happy to be by her side at this moment. He knew how hard it was to lose a loved one, especially since he lost his grandmother before filming season one of Julie and the Phantoms. Being here for her was important to him and he wanted to show her that she could always come to him. When she passed out on his shoulder that night, he thought about how badly he wanted to be with her as he tucked her in bed. He loved how she snuggled into his shoulder as he finished up the slide show and he loved that she reached out for him and called his name in her sleep as he walked away. He kissed your forehead goodnight and hated the fact that he couldn’t just call you his.

A soft knock at the door interrupted Amelie’s day dream of her grandmother. She wiped the tears that have unexpectedly fallen from her eyes and took a deep breath. “Come in” her voice was shakier than she wanted it to be, but relief washed over her when Charlie walked in wearing a black dress shirt and tie. He smiled empathetically to her and approached her with open arms, something she gladly accepted. She inhaled his scent, burying her face in his chest, while he rested his head on top of hers. 

“You ready?” Charlie held her tight as he asked this question. This would be the first and last time Amelie would be seeing her deceased grandmother.

“I should be asking you that question” she softly giggled. Charlie would be meeting all of her relatives today, including her annoying cousin Madeleine. 

“You forget that I too have a big family. It’ll be fine. Plus, I’m here for you and not them” Amelie pulled away from the hug to stare him in the eyes, silently figuring whether now was a time to discuss her feelings or not. In the end, she decided against it and smiled softly at him, which he returned.

“Thank you for being here Char... It really means a lot” he chuckled and pulled her close for a second hug, something she would never tire hearing.

“Anything for you Ams. Anything.”

***

The funeral and mass went according to plan and soon enough they found themselves in the church basement with a slide show of her grandmother playing in the background, while guests visited the pastries and beverages being served. Amelie was occupied with the many questions her aunts and uncles had about her career and how she was doing, but she couldn’t help but worry about Charlie. Throughout her conversations with her relatives, she watched Charlie help out her mother with the pastries and beverages, stopping once in a while to entertain the younger cousins at the children’s table. She smiled at him gratefully for helping out so much, but grew a little nervous when her nosy aunts and uncles pulled him aside and started interviewing him. It seemed like he was handling himself fine, but Amelie felt even more confident when he made eye contact with her and winked. 

“Well if it isn’t the Hollywood superstar.” Amelie could feel herself cringe at the sound of the voice. It was Madeline, Amelie’s cousin. They were the same age and same stature, but they couldn’t be more opposite. Madeline pursued modeling at a young age and still continued to do it, but for some reason, she always felt that everything was a competition. Amelie wanted to simply be cousins, but Madeline would take every opportunity to upstage her or show off to their aunts and uncles. Amelie didn’t really care, but the more she didn’t the more vicious Madeleine became. At one point in their lives, Madeleine had moved to Vancouver for more opportunities and ended up living with her family. This caused a lot of drama between the two of them, including Madeleine dating several of her exes and bringing them to family events.

“Hey Mads. Long time no see” Amelie forced herself to be nice and polite, even though she felt her cousin didn’t deserve it. Her black dress was a little too tight and a little too revealing for a funeral, but she wasn’t about to bring that up. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know, living it up in Paris, traveling all over Europe for different modeling jobs. It’s exhausting, but I’m sure you know of it” anyone could hear the sarcasm and apprehension in her voice. Her aunts awkwardly moved away, making up some excuse about visiting other family members so that they could catch up. “How does it feel to be working on a children’s show?”

“I mean, I love what I do, so I can’t complain” Amelie bit her tongue before she could say anything rude. She never understood why her cousin always felt the need to announce how much better she was over her.

“So... optimistic. What’s it feel like to settle?” she felt the blood rush to her face, starting to lose control of her emotions. This was not the place or time to have this conversation, yet Madeline persisted. She took a deep breath trying to level herself and forced a smile on her face. As she opened her mouth to reply, she felt a warm hand hug her lower back and the slight smell of cologne fill the air.

“Everything alright babe?” she blushed at the name and gesture from Charlie, who kissed the top of her head. Madeline flushed and her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Oh hi, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Charlie” he reached out his hand towards Madeline, keeping the other wrapped around Amelie. 

“Madeline. It’s nice to meet you Charlie. You’re an actor from the show that she worked on, right? What are you doing here?” Amelie could hear the faintest trace of annoyance in her voice, and shook his hand. Charlie and Amelie looked at each other, a cocky smile on Charlie’s face and slight confusion on Amelie’s. 

“I’m her boyfriend and I came to support her. I’m sure you’ve been dealing with the grief as well and I couldn’t let her go through this alone” part of what Charlie said was true, but Amelie couldn’t help but blush at the mention of boyfriend. No one had actually asked Charlie if they were dating, but a lot of relatives were beating around the bush. Apparently Charlie had said that rather loudly and some of the relatives started gossiping in a hushed voice. 

“Wow Amelie. I didn’t know you had such good taste in men based on your past partners” Charlie laughed at the comment, something Madeline didn’t suspect.

“I wouldn’t say I’m good taste, but Ams if definitely a catch” he gloated and kissed her cheek, causing Amelie to blush furiously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I actually came over because your mom needs some help” if there was one thing Amelie could count on, it would be Charlie’s ability to read a situation and get her out of it. “Shall we, my love?” she nodded and walked away from Madeline flushed and confused, but also really excited. He moved his hand from her back to her hand, softly dragging her away from the conversation.

“Boyfriend?” Amelie whispered to him, inferring the comments he made to Madeline. 

“I know she ruffles your feathers, so why not ruffle hers?” Benoit interrupted Charlie, asking him if he could help put some of the tables from upstairs away. “You’re mom’s in the kitchenette, you can probably hide there for a bit. I got you a plate of pastries that I stashed in the back” she thanked him and watched him walk away with her brother. Before she could take another step, Rachelle and Rene linked arms with her on either side and rushed her into the kitchenette.

“So you’re dating now?!” Rene questioned and before Amelie could answer, Rachelle interrupted her. “When were you going to tell us this?!”

“About time” her mother scoffed, stirring another jug of fruit punch. “Okay you two, leave your sister alone to breathe for a second. Take these pitchers out to the table and find Theo. Make sure Tante Genevive hasn’t stolen him for a private photoshoot for Facebook” Amelie was grateful that her mother shooed the twins off and passed her the plate that Charlie put aside. 

“Thanks Maman” her mother smiled smugly at her, moving about the kitchenette. “Please don’t say I told you so” her mother made the motion to zip her lips as she giddily made her way around the kitchen.

***

That evening, Amelie’s family stumbled through the front door of her mother’s house, everyone retiring to their rooms for a short moment of relaxation while their mother ordered take out for a late dinner. They had stayed behind to clean up with a few other relatives and put away the church tables and chairs. Charlie didn’t complain a single time and rushed to do whatever he could to help everyone out. Charlie followed Amelie up the stairs to her old bedroom and shut the door behind him as she plopped onto the bed. Part of Amelie did this was because she was tired, but the other part of her did it hopefully to avoid the conversation they were about to have. Charlie quietly sat beside her on the bed and played with her hair, something she absolutely loved.

“So, about today...” this conversation was happening whether she wanted it to or not.

“It was really nice of you to stand up for me but you didn’t have to. I have no problem telling my family it was a small misunderstanding. It should stop them from blabbering to the media” She sat up and Charlie looked incredulously at Amelie confused at what she was saying.

“Ams, I don’t think you get it” again, she interrupted him before he could continue.

“No I do, I get it. You’re an amazing friend Char and you didn’t have to risk the rumours for-” she didn’t complete the thought because Charlie’s lips were suddenly on hers and she completely melted into them. It was like this tension that she never acknowledged left her shoulders, making her feel like she was floating.

“Do you understand now?” he searched her eyes for some sort of confirmation. “I really like you Amelie and I’ve liked you for a long time, but I’ve always thought you wanted to be friends”

“I wanted to be friends?! I thought you friend zoned me first!” he gave her a look for interrupting him. “Sorry”

“Regardless of what happened, being with you here and helping you and your family throughout all of this made me want to be a part of your life so much more. I want to be more than your friend. I know this is a bad time to say this, but I don’t think I can keep pretending that I don’t want to be with you” he held her hand in his and drew nearer to her again. “I really want to be with you if you’ll have me”

She closed the gap between the two of them and kissed him this time, something which Charlie gladly accepted. The two shared a simple but passionate kiss, as if they were confessing two years of secret feelings to each other. A bang at the door startled them.

“Put your pants on! Maman wants you guys to go pick up the take out!” Benoit yelled from behind the door. The two flushed at the comment and heard the snickers and giggles from the other siblings.

“So...boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend.”

[danganronpa-imagine-headcanon]

The Danganronpa V1 girls spending time with an S/o on Fourth of July!

I know that some people don’t celebrate it, but for those who do— take this! Happy 4th of July!

Toko Fukawa

•She would love to watch fireworks with you, even if she won’t admit it

•She thinks it’s simply romantic and sweet to be sitting in each other’s presence, watching the fireworks light up the night sky and swirling in a variety of different colors

•She loves to write about the moment with you, in such great detail that it’s endearing

•Toko would never take the initiative, but she thinks kissing while fireworks are going off would be really fun and sweet to do

•Also, if you guys decided to set off any on your own, lighting the fireworks is a big no for her

•You would have to light them

•But! If fireworks scare you, or you don’t like the sound of them, it doesn’t bother her

•She’d let you guys stay inside and cuddle together— though she’ll probably comment on how your scent is gross!

•She’s just trying to distract you from the loud booming outside, she doesn’t actually think that, it’s all light-hearted

•If you guys made any sort of snacks for the occasion, she’d help you make it!

•She honestly just loves spending time with you, and getting to do that on such a fun day really means a lot to her, even if she won’t admit it

•Toko probably added a firework scene in the book she’s currently writing, afterwords

•You’re lucky if you get to read it

Genocide Jack

•She doesn’t really understand why the 4th of July is celebrated, she only really sees it as a day to hear loud booming go off

•But! That doesn’t mean she doesn’t like it

•Watching fireworks together definitely consists of making out

•She won’t let you leave that area without doing that at least once

•No, she is not going to let you peacefully enjoy them, this is Genocide Jack we’re talking about

•She’d love to set off fireworks by herself, especially loud and big ones!

•Anyways— if you’re scared of fireworks, no problem!

•She’ll tease you about it for a while, but somehow, her shouting can cover up most of the sounds, so she just kind of yells and cackles about a bunch of random things

•She would be the one to insist that you two made something

•Like cookies, or something! Decorate the cookies to celebrate the occasion!

•She dropped approximately five eggs on the floor

•On purpose

•But, to wrap up the day, she would definitely drag you into bed and pull you close to her

•She’d mutter something vulgar, probably like, “I hope you enjoyed all that shit, it was fun as hell.”

•And then she’d fall asleep

•Overall— She really did have fun! It would just definitely be chaotic

Aoi Asahina

•Aoi was really excited to see fireworks with you!

•She thought they were just so pretty, and low and behold, they were!

•She held your hand the entire time, a smile on her face as you two watched the fireworks go off in the air

•She would definitely light some with you if you asked, enjoying the giggling and frantic running away as you both waited for it to go off

•If you didn’t like fireworks, she would just keep you inside and try to take your mind off of them!

•She’d definitely play music in the background while laughing and talking to you

•As the two of you went to bed that night, she held you close to her, a caring smile on her face as she squeezed you tightly

•“I love you, S/o. I really had fun with you today!”

•You only responded in a content hum, and that was enough for her

Sakura Ogami

•As soon as you woke up that morning, Sakura told you happy 4th of July

•She was really happy to see fireworks with you, believe it or not

•It was something nice, being able to be in the presence of a person she loved while watching something so beautiful and tranquil in the night sky

•She would hold you close as they went off, a small smile on her face as she stroked your hair

•The fireworks exploded in the black sky, lighting it with a beautiful set of colors

•She would also like lighting them!

•It was fun to be able to do it and have the real experience of being the one causing the colorful explosions

•You can light some, but if you’re scared to, she can light them all, no problem!

•However, if you didn’t like fireworks, Sakura wouldn’t mind

•She would offer to work out with you, subtly putting on some music to mask the loud cracks of the fireworks

•She would hate for you to be scared on such a special occasion

•She would also make things with you, for sure!

•Small cupcakes or cookies decorated with fourth of july colors was always fun to make

•Besides, she got to spend time with you. What more could she want?

•That night when you two got into bed, you leaned your head on her shoulder, and she chuckled

•“Thank you for spending 4th of July with me, S/o. I hope you had fun.”

•By your happy giggle, she was more than aware that you did!

Celestia Ludenburg

•4th of July? Yes, it was quite fun, wasn’t it?

•Celeste wouldn’t take the initiative to ask you to do anything, but if you asked to go watch fireworks with her, well, she certainly wouldn’t decline

•You two sat on some grass and gazed up at the sky, watching the fireworks pop and explode

•She would point out a color she liked, or point out some she thought you would like, just in case you didn’t see it well enough

•She would be more than happy to light them with you, as well

•Celeste could never fight back the smile on her face when she saw you gasp and your eyes light up at a firework you two lit

•She was one of the people who made you feel that happy, and she was content with that

•If you didn’t want to be around fireworks, that was definitely fine with her as well

•After some light-hearted teasing, she would make you two some properly made tea, and you two could sit in a room with the TV playing a gentle show in the background

•Celeste would adore it if she could make things with you

•It didn’t matter to her, but she would definitely like to be over the top, making a whole layered cake with fourth of July colors and white frosting

•When you two went to sleep that night, she laid down on the other side of the bed, but wouldn’t protest if you went over to stay close to her

•She would stroke your hair, the realization dawning upon her that you really were hers, she really loved someone and they really loved her back

•“I had fun, S/o,” She would tell you in her usual accent, calmer and quieter now.

•“I had fun too,” You responded with a smile.

•That was all she wanted.

Sayaka Maizono

•Sayaka adored fireworks!

•They were so beautiful, and she watched them every year on the fourth of July

•But being able to watch them with a significant other? She was so excited! Ecstatic, even! This would be so much fun

•She was smiling so widely the entire time, pointing out especially pretty colors

•“Look S/o! I know, that one was kind of loud, but it was such a beautiful color!”

•Lighting them off herself would be a whole other world for her

•She would be more than happy to, and laugh everytime it would go off and shine in the dark nighttime, almost reflecting the stars

•Fireworks were fun to watch, sure, but they were even more fun to set off yourself!

•If you didn’t like fireworks, Sayaka wouldn’t watch them this year

•She’d simply sing to you, hopefully blocking out the loud noises

•She’d reassure you that everything would be fine

•That night, she’d probably reach out and hold your hand, humming you to sleep with a gentle tune before falling asleep herself, your hands touching

Kyoko Kirigiri

•Kyoko was rather calm about the day, however did go and watch fireworks with you

•She found your excitement quite adorable, and she just loved to see you so happy

•She would allow you to lean on your shoulder as you watched them, draping an arm around you

•She would light fireworks with you! However, she would keep her gloves on

•Lighting the fireworks with the person she loved was so much fun, really, even if she couldn’t express it well

•If you didn’t like fireworks, she was more than okay with holding you close and watching movies, preferably crime or detective themed ones

•Maybe on a smaller note, she would like drawing small little doodles with you

•For instance, drawing small fireworks, or putting happy fourth of july in block letters

•It’s just endearing and fun to her, when she does it with you

•As a whole? She really enjoyed spending time with you, and would not hesitate to do it again

Mukuro Ikusaba

•Fourth of July was something she never really celebrated until she met you.

•You two definitely went to watch fireworks if you wanted!

•Mukuro is amazed by the fireworks that she sees, and she’s more than happy to see them with you

•She’d lace her fingers with yours, squeezing tightly onto your hand as you two gazed up at the fireworks

•If she got the pleasure of being about to light one, she would be more than happy to do so!

•It’s honestly really pure, because she’s trying to act nonchalant about it, but she really is excited. She can’t hide the way her eyes shone and the small smile formed on her face

•However, if fireworks were something you tended to stay away from, she would insist that it was okay and you guys could stay inside

•You two would also make cookies!

•It would be fun and cool to do

•With the 4th of July colors, you two might write each others name on the cookies and draw little hearts on them

•It might be sweet and lovey-dovey, but mukuro absolutely adored that, even if she wouldn’t admit it

•She would give you ear plugs if necessary, or play soft rain noises to block out the sound of fireworks

•To end the day, she would move over and pull you close into her chest, her strong arms wrapped around you

•She didn’t say anything, but neither of you really had to

•Her slow and even breaths lulled you to sleep after such a long day

Junko Enoshima

•To be honest, Junko probably woke you up that morning by exploding loud fireworks in the yard at 5:00AM

•The neighbors complained, but luckily nothing happened

•Whenever you two finally went out to go see fireworks, you gazed up at the sky

•Junko was laughing, making occasional vulgar comments while holding onto your hand

•She commented on how pretty is was, though

•“Not prettier than me, though, babe! I’m worth sixty packages of these fireworks!”

•If you guys ever got the chance to light fireworks, Junko would probably stand close to the lit firework, or not be careful with the fire used to light it, so you would have to light all of the fireworks

•She’ll complain about not being able to feel the despair of getting hurt, but you insisted she was not going to the hospital for major burns on the fourth of July

•If you were scared of fireworks, she would definitely tease you about it and gush about the despair it would bring you to be forced to see them

•You would have to say a pretty firm and direct, ‘No’ before she finally agreed to do something else

•She’d make snacks with you if you insisted!

•Decorating cookies could be fun, anyways

•She dropped so many eggs and got icing everywhere, along with almost burning the house down

•But, it brought her despair, cue you panicking for both of your safety

•Also— her loud voice probably blocked out any fireworks, or was at least enough to distract you

•At the end of the day, she would let you cuddle close to her chest

•“Jeez, if you wanted to touch my tits, just say so,” She snickered, before reaching down and giving you a light kiss on the head, “Love ya, dumbass. Hope you had fun.”

•Overall? It’s Junko. She likes despair. What did you expect?

[marleyrose17]

Almost Paradise ( Owen Patrick Joyner Fic )

Hey everyone! This story is gonna be a Owen Patrick Joyner story and I will be pairing the reader with Owen, so I’ll put Y/N anytime the main character is mentioned or is talking. This is my first story since high school so please bear with me as the writing will slowly become better the more I write. I hope all you fellow Owen simps like myself like this story. FYI this story takes place if COVID 19 never existed. Please check out my best friend Sydney ( @imsydneywalker) for cute Charlie Fics. Love Yall.

Summary: Y/N just turned 22 and decided to make a spontaneous trip to L.A California USA from Dieppe,New Brunswick, Canada to visit her best friend Charlie Gillespie for her 22nd birthday present to herself. He doesn’t know she’s coming, hence the surprise. But little does she know would she get a little surprise of her own on her way to America.

Chapter 1: Someday

House outfit: https://urstyle.fashion/styles/2814065

*Week before Reader’s birthday* 2021

Y/N’s thoughts: It has been forever since I’ve last seen my best friend Charles Jeffrey Gillespie or how I like to call him Arlo *as I hold onto the necklace he gave me for my 15th birthday*. Weird nickname I know, but I’ve been calling him that since kindergarten and I’m not changing it. It’s almost my 22nd birthday so I felt like I should treat myself to a present of seeing my best friend for a little while. Momma bear doesn’t know yet but I don’t think she’ll care as much since she loves Charlie as one of her own kids, so just taking a trip cross country shouldn’t be too hard to tell her. Right? Let’s find out.

*Y/N walks down to the kitchen from her bedroom*

“Hey mami,” Y/N says as she sits on one of the barstools, popping a green grape and dipping it into nutella into her mouth.

“Yes Y/N nickname?” Y/N’s mom says in a what do you want tone, while finishing cleaning up the kitchen after dinner.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“I already know you want something. You never come back downstairs after dinner unless you’re getting a snack or you want something. I’m your mother, remember.”

“Damn, that predictable huh? Anyways, yes I wanted to ask you something or more like tell you something. So I was thinking for my 22nd birthday I could possibly fly down to America and see your adopted son for a couple weeks. You know I’ve been wanting to move down to L.A so why not go for my birthday. I’d obviously stay at Arlo’s, money shouldn’t be an issue since I’ve been saving plus birthday money from past years. Sooo?” Y/N finishes saying while looking at her mom with puppy eyes.

“You already bought your plane ticket didn’t you?” your mom says while staring at you with one eyebrow raised.

“.... maybe…. no actually, I wanted to see what you’d say first before splurging.” Y/N  says while looking down at the bowl of grapes and looks up again to smile cheeky at her mom.

Your mom rolls her eyes and laughs. “ Sure, why not. Do you want me to call Maman J so she can tell Charlie?” your mom asks.

“No no, I want it to be a surprise. It’s kind of a birthday present to myself since Arlo decided to be like “ I wanna be an actor and blah blah blah”. You say mimicking him.

“Alright, well as an early birthday present, I’ll buy your ticket. Should I make it a round trip or a one way?”

“Ummm make it a one way trip, I’ll let you know when I want to come home. You know Arlo, he always has some random hiking trip he wants to take, and knowing him he might drag me to one of those trips” you say rolling your eyes.

“No problem. You better go upstairs and start packing.” your mom says.

*You dip one last green grape into nutella and pop it into your mouth before you hop off the bar stool to give your mom a kiss* “You’re the best mami!”

*You run back to your room and start planning the whole trip*

*5:30pm One day before reader’s birthday and your flight*

*you're sitting on your bed finishing up some last minute packing, when you hear a knock at your door.*

“Come in.” Y/N says without turning around.

“Hey hun.” your mom says.

*you turn around to face your mom* “Hey mami, whats up?” *you say while sitting on top of your luggage trying to close it*

Your mom chuckles, “Here is your plane ticket for your flight, it's at 5:55am, you have a connecting flight to Oklahoma City, Oklahoma which will have a connecting flight to L.A.X.”, your mom says handing you the tickets. “So you better finish packing and get some rest.”

*You reach for the tickets while trying not to fall of your luggage* “Awesome, thanks mami.”

“No problem, just get some rest ok. I will drive you to the airport.” your mom says while walking out of your room.

“Ok!” you yell through the door. *You finally got the luggage to close* “YES!” you say standing up on the edge of your bed but then proceed to fall off your bed in the process which leads to a loud thud hitting the floor. “I’M OK!” you yell before your mom asks.

You place your luggages and carry ons by your door and start getting ready for bed. You look into the mirror one last time and stare at the picture of you and Charlie at the waterfront, ( https://www.instagram.com/p/B-suC_WF8Cu/) ( just pretend its yall, I know its like his cousin or friend)

“L.A.X I’ll see you tomorrow.” you say to yourself before walking to bed.

*Reader’s birthday* 3:00am

Airport Outfit: https://urstyle.fashion/styles/2813992 (girl on the left is what your hair looks like)

*your phone goes off at 3:00 am with the song I See Fire by Ed Sheeran playing from your phone softly.*

*You groan annoyingly wondering why you’re up so early, when you realize it is your 22nd birthday and you have a flight to catch in two hours. You spring out of bed, pop your airpods in and blair The OtherSide from The Greatest Showman and begin getting ready for your long day of flying*

*Dancing towards your bathroom, you turn on your shower to warm up and start brushing your teeth. You lay out the outfit you will be wearing to the airport on your bed, take out your headphones and head into the shower.*

*20 mins later. You hear a knock on your bathroom door*

“Almost done sweetie?” your mom asks.

“Yes, I’m just finishing up, I’ll be down soon.” you say through the door.

*Because you’re going to the airport you didn’t put too much makeup on, just enough to make yourself look kind of awake on the flights. You put your hair in a messy bun, put on your jean jacket, take one last look in the mirror before you shut off the light and head out.*

*You look around your room to make sure you grab any last minute items for your carry on. Especially making sure you have your Beats, charger, spare hair elastics and gum. You go to grab your luggage when you realize your mom already did and placed them in the car. Best mom ever. You grab your guitar case and your bag and head out.*

*Skip the car ride, you’re already at the airport*

“You’re sure you have everything right?” your mom asks while taking the stuff out of the car.

“Yes, I promise, I have everything I need. If I forgot anything important I will call you and have it shipped to Arlo’s.” you say while closing the trunk of the car.

“Alright, have a safe trip hun, please be safe and try not to get Charlie in too much trouble ok?” your mom says while hugging you goodbye.

*GASP* “ HEY! I’m a good noodle, Arlo’s the one who dared me to jump in the fountain at the mall. You know me I could never pass up a good dare.” you say while breaking the hug.

“Haha, yes I know which leads you to getting sick. Remember, it was winter.” your mom retorts back.

“ Yeah yeah I know, I’m still a good noodle though.” You chuckle while grabbing your stuff again.

Your mom shakes her head, “Go before you miss your flight silly.” She says while turning you around.

“Ok, ok I get it you want me gone.” You say laughing while walking towards the automatic doors.

“OH SWEETIE!” your mom calls out.

You turn around. “Yes?” you ask

“Happy Birthday!” your mom yells in front of everybody.

You stare at her like really. “Thanks mami. I love you too”

*You walk inside the airport and walk towards the check in line to check in all your luggages.*

*Skip to you’re already on the plane before take off.*

*You check your phone for the time, plug in your Beats, place them on and hit shuffle before. You look out the window watching the sun just barely starting to rise before you close it and begin to read your book, for the next 4 hours.*

*4 hours later*

*You finish up one of your books, you pull off your headphones just in time to hear the pilot announce that you guys are about to land. You place your book and headphones back into your bag and prepare to land.*

* You get off the plane and check the time on your phone to notice that your connecting flight is almost here and you begin to panic. You check your ticket and realize that of course your flight is on the other end of the terminal, so you begin to run and book it to the other end, hoping you’ll make it on time.*

“Excuse me! Sorry! Sorry! Excuse me!” you say as you weave through airport traffic.

*Half way through your running spree you look down at your phone again to make sure you didn’t miss your flight when you feel your arm get tugged from behind you. You notice one of yours and someone else’s luggage clipped each other by the wheels and they both go flying. “Sorry, my bad.” you say as you grab a luggage, not even looking up to see who you collided with and go back to your sprinting.*

“Yes!” you say to yourself as you make it to your gate. The flight hasn’t boarded yet so you take a seat and wait for your row to be called. You get to your gate, hand the lady your ticket and proceed to board your flight.

*You place your carry-on luggage into the overhead bin and take your seat, when you notice a very sweaty guy just barely making it onto the flight. You chuckle to yourself.*

*3 hours later*

“Alright passengers, we will be landing very shortly. The weather today is 89 degrees, partly cloudy, and 40% of humidity. Welcome to Los Angeles, California passengers.” the pilot announces over the intercom.

*You place your headphones back on, and calmly this time walk off the plane and head towards baggage claim*

*As you’re waiting your favorite song Someday by Max Schneider starts to play. You begin to sway back and forth, humming to the tune when you then feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see who it was and begin to stare at him weirdly wondering why you can’t hear the guy talk*

“Oh shit, my bad. Forgot.” you say as you take off your headphones to actually hear what the guy was saying.

“It's cool, all I was saying was that I was sorry for colliding with you back in Oklahoma. I wasn’t paying attention, I was in a rush and didn’t see you. It wasn’t until after that I noticed that the gate was in the opposite direction.” A dirty blonde guy explains to me.

“Oh no, it was totally my fault, I should have been looking up instead of on my phone. I guess we were both in a rush. But hey, I like your jean jacket. Pretty dope.” I say to him.

“Right back atcha.” he retorts.

*Awkwardly stands next to each other waiting for your luggage to arrive*

“Welp, that's my luggage. Have fun in L.A.” The guy says as he grabs his other luggage and heads towards the exit.

“Thanks, you too crash buddy.” you say back.

*you grab your luggages from the conveyor belt and pull to the side so you’re not in the way of people. You go to open one of your luggages to make sure nothing spilled on the flights/crash over, when you notice that the things in one of the luggages isn’t yours.*

“Shit, I must have accidentally switched luggages with that guy back in Oklahoma.” you say to yourself as you look around to hopefully see if he is still around.

*You close up the luggage, and begin to gather your things and head towards the exit, hoping the guy hasn’t left the airport yet. You get to the exit, head outside and don’t see the guy you bumped into.*

“Damn it!” you say defeated, “How will I ever get my stuff back? What a way to start off my birthday.”

*You get an uber and head towards Arlo’s place*

[consumeconstantly]

Small Buff Girl Sightings Ch. 5

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ao3

3:00AM | CoffeeVamp: bb bat update us TheOG: ^^ more info on the situation in paris

3:28AM | Demonspawn: It is difficult to obtain information on Hawkmoth. The butterflies disperse after they are cleansed, and before they land their target, they don’t show up electronically.  Coffee Vamp: o how the mighty have fallen i thought u said u could best me bb boi

3:42AM | Demonspawn: I’d like to see you do better. Coffee Vamp: IS THAT A CHALLENGE Coffee Vamp: ill take u up on that gimme 24 hours and ur going down TheOG: he has had a whole month so dont be too sure of that LadyLady: would you guys SHUT UP its two and some of us have jobs to do Coffee Vamp: cmon babs u luv us dont deny it LadyLady: Don’t make me hunt you down, Tim. Coffee Vamp: oOooO proper punctuation im shaking TheOG: just shut off notifications Babs TheOG: Bruce does Jesus: i don’t think the man has checked this chat in years Coffee Vamp: wdym brucie checks the chat all the time hes just a silent lurker Coffee Vamp: he doesnt even set himself to invisible

3:57AM | Daddy is away. Coffee Vamp: im so glad i have admin privileges imagine if i didnt bruce would have a boring normal nickname like his actual name LadyLady: good lord, why am I even in this chat?? Daddy: You’re supposed to keep them under control. Coffee Vamp: SEE I TOLD U BRUCE IS A SILENT LURKER> THIS. IS. SOLID. PROOF. IN YOUR FACE TheOG: nobody said otherwise Coffee Vamp: also how are the people have you made friends Jesus: Demon spawn? Making friends? Id be less surprised if he told us he has a new fling Coffee Vamp: is j right? Got a winter fling? 

4:12AM | Coffee Vamp: ur lack of a response tells us nothing  TheOG: im sure he’s just adopted his usual icy persona Coffee Vamp: haha hes the bb of so many things Coffee Vamp: bb vamp bb demon spawn ice ice bb Coffee Vamp: getitt im so funny

4:36AM | Coffee Vamp: guys?

“I told you I could get her to write her number on your cup,” Marinette grins with pride.

“And I told you I didn’t want her to.” Damian scowls and kicks a pebble in his path.

“You’re still wearing the clothes I picked out for you,” she points out.

“You told me to wear it. I wore it. I’m not interested in her.” 

Marinette squints at Damian, evaluates whether he’s telling the truth or not. “Huh, you really aren’t interested. I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t wear the other outfit I picked out for you-- that one would have gotten her to ask you out on the spot.”

Damian groans. “We’re going to have to find a new coffee place.”

“Or we could just come when she’s not on shift and run away like mice when we do see her?”

Damian gives her The Look.

“But they have good coffee here,” Marinette whines.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before dressing me up and sending me to my death.”

“It’s not my fault! You only have your parents to blame for your looks.”

It’s true; both of Damian’s parents are good-looking. His whole family is, actually, adopted or not. All of the good looking people he meets are talented and have a tragic life story. Which is the cause and which is the effect, Damian isn’t sure. But it holds true even in Paris. All he has to do is look at Marinette or Adrien, though he’s not a hundred percent sure where the tragedy kicks in for Marinette. Probably the time when she was at odds with Lila, but he hasn’t looked much into the situation. He can even use Lila Rossi as an example. She has even worse color coordination than Damian is, but her features are model worthy. Lila Rossi is also definitely fucked up in ways that Damian doesn’t care to explore.

The effects of Marinette’s well-placed compliments has Damian thinking about himself in a positive manner that he never has before. Bruce is always stingy with praise, and the other senior members of the Justice League of America see him as another Robin that doesn’t need praise because competency comes with the mantle. Dick and Barbara compliment him occasionally, but that’s rarer now that his place is more firmly cemented in the family. Damian doesn’t think he’s ever had someone so willing to genuinely compliment him. Marinette’s compliments extend to more than just his looks, as well. She praises his technological skills as he sets up her website and has complimented him as he helps her out with whatever altercations she inevitably comes across on the streets. If he reveals his skills as Robin, reveals himself as Damian Wayne, will he receive even more praise?

“But since we did buy you that absolute knockout of an outfit, you’re going to have to wear it eventually. So whose heart do you want to steal?”

“I don’t want a relationship,” Damian repeats. They seem like more effort than they’re worth, and he always sees couples fighting and complaining about each other. Plus, they have to make time for each other and his alter ego doesn’t allow for that, though he supposes that he isn't Robin. At least, not right now.

“You don’t need to want a relationship just to flirt with somebody. Who’s it going to be? The intern at the Louvre? My parent’s newest hire? Oooh, how about Nicolette?” Marinette’s voice takes on a more mischievous tone. 

Damian will give Marinette this much: her taste in the aesthetics of people is far from bad. The intern from the Louvre is two hundred pounds of lean muscle with a devil-may-care smile and a deep, belly laugh that makes people laugh with him, but Damian and he don’t have anything in common. Her parent’s new hire is knockout gorgeous, with warm brown eyes, and definitely the kind of girl Damian would have gone for as a one night stand back in Gotham. However, he’s also 98% sure that she has a very possessive boyfriend who stops by the bakery every time she has a shift. Nicolette is considered her college’s belle, and her intense gaze paired with her surprisingly friendly demeanor might have been appealing to Damian if she weren’t ten years older than him. 

“I’m not into any of them,” he says, simply.

“Then who are you into? Surely someone has caught your eye in the past month?” Marinette looks genuinely curious, but her expression shifts into horror. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I never asked your preferences, if I was being insensitive, I’m sorry, I mean I’m pan, but you absolutely don’t have to tell me, it’s your right if you’re not comfortable.”

Damian does look slightly uncomfortable now that she’s looking at him more closely. His arms are crossed over each other, across his chest, and his hair is tousled. Then, he lets out a small laugh, and Marinette melts. “It’s fine, Pigtails. All of the people you listed are attractive, but I’m not attracted to them. I’m more of a personality guy, though I can’t say that personality has stopped me from things more than dates before.”

He’s had his fair share of hook-ups and makeout sessions in the past when feeling particularly frustrated with something that wasn’t going his way, though his primary method of relief is through sparring. Short missions and one night stands go fairly well together; he doesn’t ever have to deal with people wanting long term relationships, and even if they do, he’s gone before they know it. So far, he hasn’t hooked up with anyone in Paris, but then again, he’s only been here for a month and this is a long term mission. Whatever time he’s not with Marinette or at school is dedicated to piecing together the mystery that is the Miraculous and trying to figure out Hawkmoth’s identity. 

“Oh,” Marinette continues to blush.

She’s clearly too embarrassed to bring up any other topic, so Damian decides that he’ll shoot the same conversation topic back at her. Marinette is attractive, and people she meets ask for her numbers and dates often enough. She’ll accept the former if they aren’t a total creep, but she always turns down requests for dates.

“And you? Why aren’t you out there questing for love? No crushes or significant others that I need to beat off with a stick?”

This does manage to lessen her flush. She frowns, turns something over in her mind. 

“No crushes right now, no. I used to have a huge crush on Adrien just a year ago. He’s such a sweet person, but we don’t see eye to eye on important matters.” And also not into sex, either. Even physical affection hits him the wrong way sometimes, which makes Marinette worry even further for his well being with Lila’s constant touches. Still, he hasn’t said anything, and Lila hasn’t done anything more than grasp his arm or shoulders every now and then, to reassure the class that yes, they are the golden couple. Marinette also suspects that he is very unwilling to talk about the whole situation in general, and it’s not as though they’re super close.

Of course she had a crush on Adrien. Damian can see it now, Marinette looking at Adrien with her big blue eyes, her lashes fluttering when she gets close to him. Stuttering when she gets embarrassed or when she gets close to him. It makes his lungs constrict, but he’s not sure why.

“As for past relationships, there’s only really Luka. We had a pretty good run, but he’s out of the country, touring. He wanted to try long distance, but I didn’t really want that. But he’s respectful-- there’s no need to beat him off with a stick or anything.”

“I’m surprised a pretty girl like you doesn’t have more suitors,” Damian says, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk as they walk towards the park.

Marinette gags. “There are some other people who have been interested, but I wouldn’t exactly consider them relationship material. If you’re going after a girl just because she looks exotic, that’s sort of nasty. I guess I’m just unlucky in love.”

“At least you’re not as bad off as Ladybug is,” Damian jokes.

She looks at him strangely. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, first there was that creepy sculptor who must have been twice her age, then there’s Chat Noir who keeps flirting with her despite her requests not to, plus all of the random love akumas. I’m not even going to talk about the hordes of guys who chase after her, trying to get a date just because she’s a superhero. It’s not even like she can kick them between the legs because she has an image to uphold and all that.” He smirks, nudges her with his arm. “I’m surprised you haven’t done that with some of your stalkers.”

“Oh. You’re right, huh. Though, I don’t think Chat Noir has actually flirted for a while now.”  Chat Noir has been very subdued as of late, and it makes Ladybug worry.

Marinette feels uncomfortable with the way the conversation has shifted. How does Damian know about all of these past akuma attacks? As far as Marinette is aware, most information about anything Miraculous related is difficult to get a hold of abroad, largely because the Miraculous try to hide their existence as best they can, and partially because Mayor Bourgeois doesn’t want word to get out that he hasn’t flushed a supervillain terrorist out even though he’s had three years to do it.

“Copycat happened three years ago.” It’s a question, almost.

“I figure I might as well keep up with the heroes of Paris. I’m here and they’re interesting.” Damian figures this is as good a time as any to bring up his interest in Hawkmoth. Marinette has been nothing but helpful and she’s definitely the kind of person whose heart is in the right place. Not to mention that she’s definitely smart and seems impartial; the one time he asked her about her thoughts on the heroes, he found out that she didn’t see them as perfect. She was able to critique Ladybug in full, which seemed pretty odd considering the rest of Paris seemed to have nothing but glowing praise for the heroine. “You’ve had some awful luck with akumas yourself. Weird how Ladybug didn’t show up when you got kidnapped by Evillustrator. One of the only times she didn’t show up for an akuma.”

“And what happened to the other heroes? It’s mostly Ladybug now. She must be in an awful state with her civilian life.” He looks off to the park, occasionally flicking his attention back Marinette’s face, evaluating her expression.

She catches his eyes and he swiftly looks away, looking almost nervous. Marinette stiffens. He knows, he knows, he knows, he can’t know. But how? How does he know that she’s Ladybug? She hasn’t let anything slip around him. She's been careful not to. Everything she’s ever said about Ladybug has been brief and curt, taking on an almost angry tone.

“If you’re so interested in Parisian heroes, I’m sure you saw the press conference Ladybug and Chat Noir gave last year about why the other heroes would be showing up less often.” Marinette keeps her voice carefully neutral. She needs to play this safe. She’s probably over reacting-- she’s been on edge with Hawkmoth sending out an akuma attack nearly every single day for the past few months.

Damian shakes his head. “It didn’t seem like good reasoning. Ladybug and Chat Noir are too untrained. They haven’t beat two villains in three years. They should let someone else take over.” 

Marinette has come across a good number of Ladybug and Chat Noir haters throughout her time. Those who dislike the Parisian heroes often make the exact same arguments Damian is now. That they’re not fast enough. That they should have taken down Hawkmoth and Mayura already. This is nothing new to her, though it does hurt hearing it from Damian, for some reason. She can’t even argue with most of the points he’s brought up. Going mostly solo was because of her own, selfish reasons. She really should have beaten Hawkmoth and Mayura by now. 

“The only thing they have going for them right now is that they’re keeping their Miraculous out of Hawkmoth’s hands.” She pretends that the reason why Chat Noir doesn’t show up to battle is to ensure that Hawkmoth can’t get both of the Miraculous in one fell swoop. It feels hopeless to fight villain after villain without any movement forwards. Her mind wanders to the increasing frequency of akumas and smiles, sardonically. “Some people think it’s only a matter of time until Ladybug and Chat Noir lose.”

“Hawkmoth almost seems to be the better strategist.” The two of them pass store front after store front. “Do you ever wonder what they look like, under the mask? Who they are?”

Marinette stares at the concrete underneath her feet. Hawkmoth, the better strategist? Laughable, and entirely incorrect. Even the people who hate Ladybug admit that her plans almost always work out, and that her plans are second to none. Really the only person who can possibly think that Hawkmoth is a better strategist is--

She can’t think like that. Damian is her friend. He’s just curious about Paris. Her lack of sleep and increase in paranoia re making her imagine things that are impossible. Besides, Damian isn’t on her list of suspects-- he told her he’s only been here for a short time, and Hawkmoth’s Miraculous definitely has a limited range. It’s a real pity that the world of Miraculous makes concrete evidence hard to come by, otherwise, Marinette likes to think Hawkmoth would have been behind bars already. 

“No,” she lies. Hawkmoth haunts her dreams and every waking hour. She spends hours and hours on theories and scouring out information and people who fit the clues she’s painstakingly pieced together. “Not really.”

Damian’s eyes are a piercing green, and for a moment, Marinette thinks she stops breathing. “Is that so? I’m really interested in who Ladybug is under the mask. I’d love the opportunity to talk to her in person, especially about her Miraculous. The powers she has are… very interesting.”

No. There’s no way that Damian can be Hawkmoth, right? This is all just her paranoia speaking. Damian is just a foreigner who is interested in super heroes. It’s no biggie. Still, she can’t shake off the idea that there’s more to Damian than meets the eye. The way he walks-- no, prowls-- commands respect. Marinette can tell that he knows how to fight, and knows how to fight well. He’s very good at finding information on people-- she sent a whole case file to her on Renee and his situation with his mother within twenty four hours of going into the precinct, complete with video evidence Marinette knows should have been impossible to procure without hacking-- and keeps up with her critiques on Ladybug and Chat Noir’s techniques like he’s watched their battles over and over again. He remembers akuma battles Marinette has half forgotten, because they happened so long ago.

She stares up at him, hands shoved in the pockets of the jacket she chose for him when they went on their wardrobe makeover. Damian is surprisingly wealthy; he purchased anything she even glanced at with passing approval. He looks straight forward, apparently waiting for some response from her. Just because Damian is her friend, doesn’t mean she can immediately expunge him from her list of suspects. So far, she has taken all of Damian’s words at face value. It didn’t matter to her that he rarely talks about his family or his life before Paris. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t brought her to his home during all of the weeks that they’ve been hanging out together. Really, Marinette just figured that he had a rocky relationship with his family, and that he may have been on the poorer side and was embarrassed to show her where he lived. But clearly. Damian is well off enough to afford brand name clothes without batting an eye. Things aren’t adding up. All of the red flags that she’s blatantly ignored start to crop up in her head.

The book on the species of butterflies that akumas are made of, tucked under his arm. The way he showed up after every single akuma attack when she rarely saw him in the area before or during it. His knowledge of the three languages that form the basis of the Miraculous Tome-- Mandarin, Arabic, and English.

If he is Hawkmoth, what sort of emotions would he be feeling right now? Some sort of euphoria, maybe, realizing that he could get infinitely closer to Ladybug when she is Marinette. Anticipation, too. Has Marinette been hanging out with a super villain for the past month? Has she really come to the point where she can call a supervillain her best friend?

Marinette takes another look at Damian’s outfit. Master Fu said that the Miraculous Hawkmoth owns is in the shape of a brooch. Marinette sees no such object on Damian, which could either mean that he’s not Hawkmoth or that he’s just been taking it off whenever he’s with her. She’s really hoping it’s not the second option.

She needs to gather her thoughts, make a plan on how to proceed. When she’s sure that Damian isn’t looking, Marinette sets off the ringtone that is saved for her Maman’s texts and calls. This catches Damian’s attention, and she waves looks up from her phone as though she’s responding. 

“Maman wants me to do a delivery. If you’re looking for more information on the whole superhero situation in Paris, I can get you Alya’s number. She runs the Ladyblog-- I’m sure she’d be glad to talk with you.” Alya also has some of the worst conspiracy theories that Marinette has ever seen. She doesn’t often keep abreast of what the Ladyblog’s portrayal of Ladybug is, but back when Marinette and Alya were friends, she was subjected to wild theories that made her stomach nauseous with how little logic there was. Which means that if-- if-- Damian is actually Hawkmoth, he might be thrown off by what she says.

“I’ll see you on Monday? Jagged texted me last night and wants me to change the embroidery on his commission.” This isn’t exactly a lie; Jagged wants one of the smaller details to be changed, but it certainly won’t take as long as she’s suggesting. Marinette hopes that it’s enough of an excuse to get Damian off her back for the rest of today and tomorrow while she reevaluates her game plans and life choices. 

Damian waves her off. “I don’t think that Ladyblogger girl knows anymore than I do. She’s of no help to me. I’ll see you on Monday.”

#

Marinette’s reaction to Damian’s questions are weird. There’s an underlying tension that she exuded before they parted ways, and he’s still thinking about it a day later.

Marinette, who he always finds near an akuma attack right after it occurs. Marinette, who is emotionally and physically superior to most other Parisians. Marinette, who hasn’t been akumatized in a class full of idiots and other victims. Marinette, who doesn’t like Ladybug even though she seems like a fairly competent and kind hero, despite the fact that she hasn’t caught Hawkmoth yet. Marinette, who rarely talks about akumas despite all of the time he spends with her, which is highly unusual because even people he only briefly meets manage to slip in something about akumas into the conversation. Damian feels like there must be some sort of connection between Marintte and the akuma situation that he’s not getting, but it’s eluding him.

He sits down with his laptop in his apartment and looks up information about Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s definitely just as talented as he suspected; in her ninth year of schooling, she won a Gabriel competition, participated in a music video of Clara Nightingale’s, and collaborated with Jagged Stone on an album cover. So that was how she met him-- he wondered, but never asked. There are also a few instagram posts that have tagged her as a good samaritan and a few articles that detail a small, asian girl who’s going around Paris helping random people that are in need.

The weird things that Damian finds are contained in her school records. She’s apparently in very good company with her IQ, but what’s more interesting is all the dates that she is tardy or absent from school. They line up perfectly with all of the dates that akumas appear. He feels dread gather in his stomach. 

A few more searches seem to cement his growing suspicions. Around the same time that Marinette obtained a truce with Lila matched up with when theorists believed that the Italian girl started working with Hawkmoth. He reads the instagrams and tweets of her classmates from the first year that Hawkmoth arrived, which talk about how excellent Marinette is at calming them down and guiding them to a better place. He also reads the posts of Chloe Bourgeois and Alya Cesaire and the articles about Marinette and Evillustrator that tell a slightly different story-- that Marinette is capable of manipulating others into more unpleasant situations.

Damian jolts. There is an incoming call from his father. 

“Are updates on Paris, Damian?” 

Should he give them a clue to his growing suspicions that Marinette is Hawkmoth? No, he can’t tell them until he gathers more information. 

“No,” he says. “Information about Hawkmoth and the Miraculous are hard to come by.”

There’s a sigh and what sounds like the rustling of papers from the other side. “I figured. Tim and Barbara can’t find anything over here, either, but the Justice League is worried. They want results.”

“The Justice League and I agreed that having Robin make an appearance would be beneficial. Gain Ladybug and Chat Noir’s trust, or find Hawkmoth. Information might come easier with your alter ego.”

“All right.” 

Another pause. He and his father have always had an awkward relationship. Bruce didn’t know of his existence until he was ten, and by that time, the most formative years of Damian’s life had already passed. Bruce Wayne may be many things, but good at dealing with children, he is not. Even after adopting so many children, he doesn’t know how to raise a child. Damian and his brothers have all raised themselves, with Bruce only stepping in when one of them is really going off the rails.

“Is everything else going well in Paris? School is good?”

“School is fine.” Damian wonders whether he should tell his father about Marinette. About the girl who is kind and capable and scarily efficient at dispatching criminals for a citizen and-- he can’t think about her like that. He decides against telling his father about her. She might be Hawkmoth, after all, and confirming her existence to his father means that he’s denying that possibility. “Gotham?”

“Nothing out of the usual. A few run-ins with the Joker.”

Another silence. The lapses in conversation aren’t awkward, but Damian thinks of the playful banter Marinette has with her parents and frowns. 

“Goodbye, Father.”

“Goodnight, Damian.”

Damian looks around at his empty apartment. There is nothing in it, except for his suitcase and a few pieces of furniture. It’s nothing like the manor, where he knows that Tim is up at all hours slaving away on another project that Damian rarely gets to see, or that Jason is in the training room with Dick joining him occasionally. He can’t pick a fight with Tim or have Dick try to mediate the conflicts between himself and Jason. No nightly patrols with three or four people talking over the comms, or near instantaneous backup when he gets into a tight spot. There is no Alfred or Barbara or Cassandra or Bruce here. Only Damian. 

He looks down at his laptop, at the various information and images of Marinette that he has up on his screen. In good conscience, he can’t continue being friends with her. Not with the possibility that she is the person he’s trying to hunt down. 

He remembers her saying that being lonely is different than being alone. 

Damian is lonely.

#

Patrol is a necessary evil. 

Ladybug doesn’t hate patrol. She’s not very fond of it, though. It cuts into time that she could be spending sleeping or designing or anything else, really. In the beginning, it started as a way to figure out how everything worked under the guise of the dark and without the constant threat of an akuma hanging over head. Then, it progressed into disproving the theory about Ladybug’s age, because civilians aren’t inclined to believe that a teenage girl who has school the next day would patrol every day in the early morning. Now, it shows the Parisians how devoted Ladybug is-- that’s something that she’s struggled with ever since withdrawing the Miraculous from all of the part time heroes-- and lets Marinette blow off any steam that she has. 

Right now, Marinette needs to blow off a lot of steam. Still, even as Ladybug, as much as Marinette wants to scream to high hell and back about how she’s been friends-- very close friends, she’d dare to say-- with the same person who has been terrorizing Paris for years, she can’t. If she screams, there will be media coverage on it, and she doesn’t want to deal with what the press would write up some article about how Ladybug was overworked and needed to bring back the other heroes, or that Ladybug wasn’t mentally sound enough to take care of Paris, she should just give up the Miraculous, or that Ladybug’s scream was [insert some poetic nonsense that English teachers wax about for hours even though the author never intended the audience to read that deeply into it].

Marinette doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s gotten close to Damian. She’s as close to him as she is with Kagami, Luka, Jagged and Penny. Damian knows that she’s MDC. He knows her hopes and aspirations. He knows her family, knows the majority of her friends, and knows what’s important to her. It will be so easy for him to tear her apart now. Marinette isn’t sure what Hawkmoth is waiting for, but she almost hopes that he’ll get it over with sooner rather than later.

What will Hawkmoth do first? Go after the website that he helped her make, probably. Cut off the financial support that she could use to run away and create another identity. Then, he’ll go after her friends, few and far as they may be. Renee next. Her family, last. She wonders who Mayura is, if he is Hawkmoth. She hasn’t seen anyone that’s close to him. Then again, Damian reveals next to nothing about himself. She’s never even seen where he lives.

There’s a shadow on the rooftops. 

God, of course Hawkmoth would send out an akuma today. He knows how horrible her mental state must be. There’s no way he wouldn’t take advantage of that.

She yoyos over to the shadow, not close enough to strike or apprehend, but close enough to easily give chase without the akuma being able to give her the slip.

“Ladybug,” the akuma says.

“Cut the crap. We all know you want the Miraculous, Hawkmoth. Let’s get to it.” The shadow steps forward where a street lamp illuminates its costume, and once again, she is assaulted by the barrage of colors on her eyes. After seeing how awful Damian’s color coordination was, it’s easy to come to terms with the awful designs of all of his costumes. Still, she’s surprised that the boy who dresses in the same outfit every day creates such outlandish costumes for all of his minions. 

The akuma frowns, tenses. 

“I’m not Hawkmoth,” it insists. “I’m Robin, a vigilante from Gotham. I’ve come to learn more about the current situation and aid you in taking Hawkmoth down.”

 Ladybug scoffs. She’s not sure what this akuma’s tactic is, but none of the others have tried to lie to her so blatantly about their identity. And ripping off an identity? That is a new low, even for Hawkmoth. She’s sure that the real Robin didn’t agree to this, and if she were close with the vigilante, maybe she could get him to throw a lawsuit or two at Hawkmoth once he was in custody, just for kicks.

Robin the akuma scrambles, apparently looking for something that can verify his identity. 

Ladybug strikes. There’s no pride in striking an opponent when they are distracted, but it’s a means to an end. If Damian is dumb enough to send out an akuma confused about its identity tonight of all nights-- a night where Ladybug is distressed and it would be all too easy to take advantage of her-- then she’s going to take advantage of it.

It’s easy to bind the akuma. Startlingly easy. The akuma is different tonight, then. His powers have something to do with close contact, maybe? Ladybug looks on his person for things that could be the point of akumatization, eyes flitting from Robin’s waistband to his mask.

She comes to an unpleasant conclusion. The measurements and the coloring are a perfect match. Hawkmoth has come to meet her in person.

“Damian,” Ladybug hisses. 

Damian’s eyes widen, like he doesn’t know how she’s pieced together his identity. How stupid does he think she is? He’s been dropping hints constantly. Information a transfer to Paris shouldn’t know. Never telling Marinette anything personal. Always being near an akuma attack when it happens. It’s almost like he wanted her to figure out his identity.

“How did you know?” 

“Please, Hawkmoth, did you really think that Marinette couldn’t connect the dots? You must have thought awfully little of her if you thought that your constant appearances near all of the akuma and questions about the Miraculous didn’t lead me to your identity.”

“Hawkmoth? Ladybug, I’m not Hawkmoth, I’m Robin.”

“And I’m the queen of England. Renounce your Miraculous now, Hawkmoth. Or I’ll beat you until you detransform and take it from you.” 

Damian looks confused before his face contorts to an expression of resignation. He recognizes a cold fury in her eyes that is distinct to people who won’t give up until they get their way, and there’s really no other way around this right now. He should have brought his comm with him, but he wasn’t expecting to meet Ladybug tonight; he just wanted to assess the situation as Robin, to get out from his apartment for a second. Rookie mistake. 

True to her word, Ladybug beats Damian unconscious and also until he’s black and blue. She’ll be lying if she didn’t say she took out some of her fury from the past years on him.

But here’s the thing; Damian doesn’t detransform. He stays in his god-awful costume that has the same disgusting shade of mustard yellow as that one top Damian owns. That’s not what’s supposed to happen. When Miraculous users faint, they detransform because it takes a sort of mental awareness to handle the powers bestowed upon them. Is it different because Damian is an akuma? Is there some sort of Miraculous bylaw that if a Miraculous user gets akumatized, they get to stay in their alternate form? Oh wait, that’s right, he’s an akuma, not Hawkmoth right now.

Ladybug stumbles forward, breaking all of the weapons that are on his belt, taking off his mask and breaking that as well. No akuma comes out. She tries his gloves, then his boots. She pats him down, seeing if there’s anything she missed. She rips his suit, too. Nothing. There’s no brooch in his personal effects either.

What is she supposed to do now? 

Seeing no alternative, Ladybug picks Damian up and yoyos back to Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie to safely detransform and figure out what the fuck is going on.

He’s not Hawkmoth, is the conclusion Marinette comes to after a side by side comparison of pictures of the vigilante and Damian. The horrifying conclusion: the person lying on the floor of her bedroom is actually Robin, the vigilante from Gotham. 

Marinette knows it’s better to err on the side of caution, but she still buries her head in her hands in embarrassment. How can she have gotten him so wrong? She really needs to get better at reading people, because deciding that random civilians are Hawkmoth clearly has not paid off. 

She also cannot believe that the Justice League has decided to step in now, and with a sidekick from America, of all things--Marinette is pretty sure that she sent the videos to the European branch. It must have been three years since her first notification to them. She contacted them immediately after Stoneheart, and again, after Syren when she was distraught at the death that surrounded her. With no response, there was nothing she could do. She has to start relying on herself and her own skills. 

Ladybug only contacted them once more, after Heroes’ Day. At that point, Ladybug had been thinking for a while that someone who was naturally superpowered or someone with a high grade of intelligence-- like the heroes affiliated with the Justice League-- would do more harm than good if they were allowed in the city. After the devastation of her teammates being akumatized, and the nearly week long battle that ensued, she was certain that she could barely fight her teammates, let alone trained professionals. So with shaky hands and red rimmed eyes, she said to please disregard her earlier messages; the situation in Paris wasn’t that bad, and Ladybug could handle it. 

Damian groans. Marinette jumps; he is waking up far earlier than she anticipated. She wants to transform back into Ladybug. Being in her spots gives her a pseudo sense of security. First, though, she has to restrain him. Even though he isn’t Hawkmoth, she’s not sure whether he’s a threat or not. She makes quick work of it, using the thickest zip ties that she has on hand and restraining his arms and legs.

She doesn’t get the chance to transform back into Ladybug, but that’s just as well, because at the end of the day, Marinette is the foundation of anything that makes Ladybug a hero to the public. Damian opens his eyes almost immediately after she has finished restraining him, taking in his surroundings and the person in front of him.

“Marinette? Where’s Ladybug?” No questions of how he got there; Ladybug can clearly carry her own weight and more. No questions as to why there are zip ties cutting into his wrists and ankles; he has seen too many of Marinette’s victims on the streets.

“What do you mean, where’s Ladybug?” Marinette is right in front of him. She might not have the suit on, but at the end of the day, she does have the Ladybug Miraculous, which means she’s Ladybug through and through, and Damian must know that. Otherwise, there’s no real reason for Robin to be spending so much time with Marinette. The fact that she feels more real and true to herself as Marinette than as Ladybug probably means nothing to him.

“She knocked me out on a rooftop. Didn’t know that you two knew each other personally. I’m not Hawkmoth, by the way.” He twitches, then realizes that he’s been tied up. “Why’d she leave me with you?”

So he doesn’t know that she’s also Ladybug? This whole thing keeps getting more confusing. Still, the less people that know about her alter ego, the better. Marinette will keep him in the dark. She attributes his blatant misunderstanding to the identity concealment magic of the Miraculous. It’s powerful stuff. If it didn’t exist, she’s sure she would have found concrete evidence as to who Hawkmoth is by now. 

“She asked me to assess whether you were a threat or not. Whether or not she casts the Miraculous Cure is contingent on my response.”

“Ladybug wants you to assess whether I’m a threat or not? Why’d she leave a possible super villain with a civilian?”

“I help Ladybug out with many things.” Her voice turns to clinical detachment. She uses this method to dissociate as Ladybug when things get overwhelming. Assess the situation. Get in, deakumatize, get out. Marinette needs to distance herself. It’s bad enough that the situation is this convoluted, but she doesn’t need Damian to doubt Ladybug’s capabilities as well. “Ladybug knows that you’re not Hawkmoth now, and she knows that I can handle myself with any run of the mill bad guy, even if they are a supposed vigilante.”

“Tell me, Robin,” Marinette spits the name like a curse, “Why should I tell Ladybug that you’re not a threat? That you are who you say you are?”

In all honesty, all Marinette wants to do is knock Damian out again so she can collect her thoughts. She’s not sure how she should address his presence as Robin in Paris and is still reeling from the whiplash of thinking he was Hawkmoth only for him to turn into a foreign vigilante. Next thing she knows, he’ll tell her that his name isn’t even Damian Grayson. Well, now that she thinks about it, he’s definitely not. After this encounter finishes, she’ll look up Damian and Gotham and see what she gets.

He looks flustered, like he never expected anybody to question his identity or presence. It’s laughable, really. Marinette doubts that the Justice League actually sent him; he’s probably here to explore on his own. That means he’ll only be a pain in the ass to deal with. Maybe she needs to get into contact with the Justice League again, if only just so she can deport Robin with more ease. 

“I can call Batman,” he says.

Marinette doesn’t think this is a very good solution. There’s no way for her to prove that the person on the other side actually is Batman and not some actor. But after racking her brain, she can’t come up with a much better solution. It’s not like Robin has any superpowers that she can request to see, and she doesn’t have a direct line to anybody from the Justice League.

“Fine. Call Batman.”

“It’s in the pocket near on my right side.” Marinette doesn’t bother going closer to him. She destroyed everything on him earlier, in case it was the akuma’s vessel. Ladybug thought she came across a phone, but now she’s glad she smashed it and left it on that random rooftop. He probably has some sort of tracker on his phone. In any case, Marinette thinks it’s weird for a vigilante to have a phone on them while on the rooftops. Shouldn’t he have an earpiece or something? 

“Your phone was destroyed by Ladybug. Tell me the number to call. I’ll put it on speaker.” Marinette isn’t sure if the number he’ll have her call will be some sort of secure connection or direct line that is only accessible through Damian’s phone, but she doesn’t particularly care because the Miraculous Communicators are exactly that. Miraculous. Master Fu assured her that all communications were private and impossible to crack unless they also had a Miraculous. Which is why she’s using the Miraculous Communicator to call Batman.

Damian winces, then speaks into the offered phone. 

“Batman, it’s Robin. I need to verify my identity in order to proceed.”

“Are you with Ladybug?”

So he is on a mission, then, and not just playing hooky. If Batman is involved, Marinette has no doubt the rest of the Justice League will follow soon. This will be a dreadfully unpleasant call.

“I’m making it a video call,” Marinette says. “And no, he’s not with Ladybug. I’m Ladybug’s point of contact, and she doesn’t take kindly to people encroaching on her territory without permission.”

“Robin, what happened?” Batman isn’t accepting her video request.

Marinette cuts off whatever Damian is about to say. “Damian was suspicious; I reported his activities to Ladybug and she believed that he could be Hawkmoth. Then, she caught him on the roofs and took him back to my place after verifying that he wasn’t Hawkmoth. Video call, Batman. I’d like to see that you are who you say you are, before I send Robin back to the states.”

“She knows your civilian identity? Two people know that you’re Robin?”

“Turn your video on. If you can’t prove that you are who Damian says you are, Ladybug and I will do everything in our powers to deport him and make sure that the Justice League is not allowed in Paris again. Ladybug said that she doesn’t need any unknowns in her city, and I’ve been hoping Robin came here of his own volition. It sounds like that isn’t the case.”

Marinette thinks that Batman curses in English, but she’s not sure. Fluent though Marinette may be, she is not well versed in curses, colloquialisms, or American memes. The camera turns on. It’s Batman, or at the very least, an actor wearing a very good knock off costume.

It’s annoying that Marinette can’t see his eyes. There’s some white film where his eyes should be, and the fact that his cowl covers more than half of his face isn’t doing her any favors in letting her read his facial expression. She moves herself so that Batman can see both her and Robin.

“Why is Robin restrained?”

“Like I said: he was suspicious. I’m not taking any chances.”

A moment of silence.

“How do you want me to prove my identity?” 

That’s good. He’s not asking who she is, though she’s sure that there are cameras pointing at the screen on Batman’s end, running facial analysis and background checks on her. The Miraculous magic will ensure that any connections between her and Ladybug will not come to light. Other than her identity as Ladybug, Marinette has nothing to hide.

“If you’re Batman, then you should have access to the League’s calls, European and otherwise. Play me the last video that Ladybug sent you. I know what she said.” She spares a glance at Damian. His jaw is tight, but when he looks at her, she finds what looks like regret. It’s not entirely Damian’s fault. A mission is a responsibility, and Marinette understands that in order to be a hero or vigilante, one must be willing to do anything to accomplish the mission. Really, she’s only Ladybug because she feels that heavy weight of the words duty and responsibility on her shoulders. Fu’s fault.

“Behave. If you try something, I’ll knock you out.” Marinette sets the communicator on her desk and eyes him. The zipties are so tight around his arms and legs that he is bleeding. Marinette feels a flash of sympathy, then pushes it away. It was his fault for-- why was he at fault, again? 

“I have the video.” Batman sounds even peakier than when they started the call. He plays the video.

“Justice League. This is Ladybug. I rescind my requests for help; I can take care of Paris with my own team. Any help from you at this point would be a detriment and could potentially harm the citizens of Paris. Hawkmoth manipulates strong emotions, and I don’t need to handle a metahuman or tactical genius to gain more power to wreak havoc on my city. I will not contact you with any further requests for assistance.”

It’s an awful video. Marinette had to wait a day after the Heroes’ week fiasco just so her eyes wouldn’t be red. At least her voice doesn’t waver in it. There’s a conviction in the whole video that was unique to that moment. 

Marinette looks at Batman, then at Robin. 

“Clearly the Justice League refused to listen. Ladybug doesn’t want or need your help at this point in time. Why are you here?”

“The Justice League is at fault for not paying attention to Ladybug’s other videos. But Mayor Bourgeois and President Macron can only cover such alarming incidents for so long. Ladybug and her… team clearly need help in order to find and take down Hawkmoth, so once the American branch of the Justice League found out half a year ago, we started to investigate.” Batman speaks in lieu of Damian. Marinette briefly wonders if Damian knows who Batman is under the mask. She bets he does. They’re probably close, what with how worried Batman sounds. 

“What makes you think that the Justice League is any better equipped to handle this situation? Ladybug and her team have been fighting for the past three years and resolved every akuma with no help from you. She needed your help in earlier years. Now she doesn’t.”

“Exactly; it’s been three years and she still hasn’t caught Hawkmoth.”

“You say that like the Justice League doesn’t have a team with more wealth and manpower than Ladybug does that’s been looking into Hawkmoth and the Miraculous for the past half year and clearly has not found any reasonable leads. Ladybug has only been actively looking for Hawkmoth for the past two years, not three. The police handled the first year, not that you’ve done any homework on the situation. Thought that a field agent would help your chances?” 

There is fire in Marinette’s stomach. Batman sounds so dismissive of all of the work that she’s been doing. It’s been hard on her; she doesn’t have the support that she needs and doesn’t have the experience or expertise to hunt down Hawkmoth on her own. She trained briefly under Master Fu to learn spells and ways to expand her powers as Ladybug, but that was an equivalent exchange: she no longer trusts that other holders won’t be akumatized. Her growing cynicism and physical training from Maman came at the expense of Chat Noir; after the whole Lila incident in her first year as Ladybug, she found out that Chat Noir and Adrien were one and the same. And Gabriel Agreste is not afraid to use his son until Adrien is stretched far too thin, which forced Marinette to nearly bench her partner.

“Three years,” Batman says again.

“If the Justice League can’t figure it out nearly unlimited resources and funding in half a year-- both ordinary and super human-- then clearly it isn’t a question of time. It’s a question of capability. Get off your high horse, Batman. You haven’t given me any reasons why Ladybug and I shouldn’t deport Robin here, and you’re definitely not making a good case as to why she shouldn’t go to Mayor Bourgeois and France’s president to ensure that the Justice League and its affiliates and ban hero travel into Paris. Bourgeois already doesn’t want information on it’s supervillain situation to get out.” 

“Marinette,” Damian pleads.

As Robin and as Damian, he doesn’t pose a threat. He hasn’t been helpful, but he certainly hasn’t messed with the status quo for the month that he’s been here. Still, he is a liability. If he stays in Paris, he is the gateway for the other members of the Justice League to fly in and try to commandeer the fragile balance that she has found. She can’t afford for something like that to happen.  

“You’re not any better, Robin. Why did you even hang around me? Thought I was a threat?” Her eyes narrow in realization. It makes sense why he decided to hang out with her, despite his initial cold front. He was playing a role.“You thought I was Hawkmoth.”

His silence is an agreement.

“We just want to help,” Damian says, and against her better judgement, Marinette believes him. 

Her shoulders round, and Marinette sighs. She can’t truly begrudge Damian for that train of thought, not when she believed the same about him. She’s been a little harsh on them so far, in part due to old resentment that they never responded to her in that first, awful year when she needed the help. 

There’s a dull tiredness that comes with knowing someone who she considered one of her closest friends suspected her of being a supervillain, though she did believe the same of him, so maybe they’re even. It still hurts, though. It hurts like when Alya decided that Marinette was mean-hearted enough to stop the members of their class from reaching their full potential. It hurts like when Marinette finally realized that she couldn’t repair their friendship, not to what it used to be. It hurts like when she looked around the classroom and realized that she couldn’t talk to anyone there. It hurts like when Marinette decided that she couldn’t risk helping her friends the way she wanted to. 

“What kind of help can you offer us? We don’t need any more of you to come out here.” Resources are nice. More money to fund therapy programs around town won’t hurt. Master Fu doesn’t help on that part. Really, he doesn’t help at all. Even though she has Chat Noir and had a team, she often feels like it’s herself against the world. Some days, she reaches up to her earrings and feels an aching emptiness, like there’s something more to the Miraculous that’s been sealed away.

“We can give you resources. Money, connections, experience. Robin is good with technology. He can help you track down where Hawkmoth is.”

Marinette’s laugh is bitter. “Sure, he can try, but the butterflies Hawkmoth sends out aren’t visible by the normal human eye or electronically until they’ve found their mark. Once they’re purified, they’re just normal butterflies, and they go off in random directions.”

“Normal human eye? It sounds like there are exceptions.” Damian readjusts himself. He has fidgeted his way into an uncomfortable looking seiza position, where his ankles are bleeding. 

“A true holder can see the butterflies at all times.”

Marinette also decides to throw them a bone so there’s no questions as to why a mere civilian is working with Ladybug. “That’s why Ladybug recruited me. I was Multimouse.”

Multimouse was in the file that Damian sent his father, but he asks, just to make sure. “The one that can split itself?”

“That’s correct. I guess now is as good a time as any for the two of you to get your questions answered.”

“Why are you the point of civilian contact instead of any of the other more frequently used heroes? Didn’t you appear only once?” Damian avoids looking Marinette in the eyes, and that makes her feel slightly better. He’s ashamed of his actions. Good. 

“Ladybug said that the other hero’s civilian forms were either compromised or not in a good position.”

“Ladybug knows who all the holders are.” Batman speculates. He looks less tense now that Damian is no longer tied up, but his voice remains gravelly and distrubed. Maybe that’s what he sounds like all the time.  “Who else knows? Do you?” 

“Only Ladybug knows.” Marinette lives in half truths. She’s not sure that they’re much better than lies, but they’re all she has. Secrecy is the only thing Master Fu has sincerely taught her.

“Why have all the other heroes disappeared?” 

“Ladybug said that it was too dangerous for someone who could be akumatized to hold a Miraculous. Rena Rage, Shell Shock, Queen Wasp-- they were all frighteningly powerful akumas. It’s also why Chat Noir has been showing up less and less; his home life is not the best, and she’s trying her best to ensure that he doesn’t get akumatized.”

“She’s not worried for herself or,” Damian’s eyes flick to Marinette, away from Batman. “For you?” 

“She knows that both of us are good at dealing with stress. We have our own methods of coping.” She looks at Damian, her mouth tightening into a frown. “If you want to stay in Paris, I’ll cut you a deal. We can work together for two weeks, and if we don’t get any results, you have to leave and the Justice League must promise that they won’t interfere again.”

“Two weeks isn’t enough time,” Damian objects.

“If you don’t think it’s enough time, just leave now. I’ll say now that I’m only willing to work with you during the night. That’s the time I work on Miraculous related stuff now, anyways. And stay out of the akuma battles.” She doesn’t actually think that working together will help anyways, and she wants Damian gone sooner rather than later. He’s been making her feel too much and emotions that are far more explosive and easy to take advantage of than Marinette has in a long time. She doesn’t want to be targeted by an akuma because of her inner conflict. 

“Two weeks, then,” Batman agrees. “Robin can contact me if you need any extra resources.”

Marinette hangs up and assesses Damian. He looks almost pitiful, with bruising around his eyes, tousled hair, a ripped suit, and cuts where his skin is exposed. She opens her trap door in a clear gesture for him to depart. Downstairs is dark; her Maman and Papa have long since gone to sleep, and it’s only a few more hours until they wake up to start baking. “We start tomorrow. If you need Ladybug for anything, tell me.”

He’s half way down the ladder when he looks back up at Marinette, into her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Marinette can’t breath. She feels like vomiting. His eyes are so green in comparison to the purple bruising on his face. She did that to him. She made him look that way. All she’s ever wanted to do as Ladybug is protect the people she cared for. But Damian-- Marinette doesn’t know. She doesn't know whether what Damian has done can actually be described as bad. He was just trying to do what Batman told him to do. Keeping an eye on a threat. Marinette wonders how long he thought she was Hawkmoth. She wonders if he ever thought they were friends. 

“I’m sorry too,” Marinette says, and shuts the trap door.

They’re both sorry for very different things.