#but i never paid rings for classmates. i always partied

[alluringnectar]

my baby

pairings; loser!ellie williams x cheerleader! reader

cw; interalized homophobia, angst, tribbing, fingering (r! recieving), fluff, bullying (kinda), making out, slur, petnames like “baby & princess” , not proof read yet!

wc; 17k

life has never been better, you were handed the world at the age of 6. you never had to worry about having no friends, or not having the latest designer bag, and certainly not having everybody wrapped around your finger. you were a cheerleader & from that only, everyone respected you. you dedicated yourself into looks: always on diets, hitting the gyms, getting your nails done, having the most expensive makeup and so much more. you were the most outgoing girl known to mankind, never missing a rager or party. your friend groups were mainly other cheerleaders, and the jocks on the football team. they were assholes, but you didn’t care because so were you.

you never once paid attention in class, especially english. clicking your pen and having your eyes everywhere but the board. you snap out of your daze when your teacher announces that there will be a partner project, and she would assign the groups. you hear your name, and you pray that you get one of your friends but instead you hear the name ellie williams.

“you cannot be fucking serious” you mutter under your breath, looking at ellie whose a row infront of you.

“what was that?” the teacher asked you. “nothing.” you mock her tone, earning a laugh from your classmates.

“alright then everybody get to your partners we don’t have all day!” she claps her hands, urging everyone to switch their seats.

you stay in your seat, motioning ellie to

come where you are. why would you have to move? ellie rolled her eyes, not having the best impression of you either. “look,” ellie says “i wouldn’t have picked you either.” you scoff, “great to know we’re on the same page!” you look at her green eyes, and the way she flutters her eyelash. you were about to say something until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

it was a jock, and you end up talking to him for the rest of the period, not caring to look back at ellie, who was doing all the work. “another prissy bitch.” ellie thinks to herself.

as soon as the bell rings, ellie packs her stuff and leaves as soon as she could. she sees her friends, dina and jesse, and she sighs in relief. “you would not believe who i got paired up with.” dina and jesse both furrow their brows in unison. “a CHEERLEADER! i swear this world is against me, i already know im gonna have to do this project with myself.” dina replies, “yikes , you have it unlucky. i would NOT wanna be you.” jesse laughs and that makes ellie roll her eyes & reply “thanks dina that makes me feel a million times better.” “well jesse and I have to get going, good luck with her!” dina yells while grabbing jesse by the hand and dragging him through the hallways. ellie sighs and puts her back against the locker.

you put your bag down, and flop down on your bed chewing on some protein bars after practice. you grab your laptop and check your grade book. and thats when you see it. you’re gonna fail english class. “shit shit shit!” you tell yourself, pacing around your room in circles. you couldn’t give to shits if you were failing english, but what you did care about is being on academic probation. if you’re put on academic probation, you won’t be able to cheer. you can’t let that happen. so you grabbed your phone, and started texting everyone for ellie’s number. when you finally receive a message with her number, you smile and immediately text her.

“heyyy”

“who is this?”

“your partner in english.”

“why are you texting me?”

“do you wanna come over tomorrow to work on it?”

“is this a joke?”

“ why would i be? i have practice, so is 7:30 good?”

“yeah, ill be there just give me the address.”

it’s the next day and you come from practice drenched in sweat. you go into the shower, making sure its cold so you can relax. as you get out, you put on a robe and some uggs slipper and you hear the bell ring.

you walk over to answer, the fact ellie was supposed to come over completely slipped your mind. you open the door, and you see ellie.

“shit! is it 7:30 already?”

ellie takes full notice you’re in nothing but a robe and she blushes.

“yeah.”

“fuck im so sorry- practice had me exhausted-“

ellie reassures you, telling you it was okay because she found it kinda cute that your hair was wet and your lips were plump.

“here ellie, you can come inside, just stay in my room, i’ll get changed and i’ll be there in a sec.

ellie nods, and sinks down into your bed. she takes a moment to take in everything in your room. she took note of the way your walls were stripped pink and white to the little ballerina jewelry box that looked antique.

you walk into your room handing her some snacks. “do you want some?” “sure.”

ellie says. & now shes starting to think you’re not a total bitch.

this time, you ended up getting no work done but for a different reason. you spent your time gossiping to ellie, about who slept with who, or who did what. you never realized how pretty ellie truly was. her freckles decorated her face like how constellations decorate the sky. you look down into her lips, and ellie stops talking about whatever she was. ellie and you spend a brief moment just gazing into each other’s eyes.

you both get flustered and she breaks the silence by saying “um- do you have a hair tie?” “yeah of course here” and you hand her one.

you look at the time and gasp, it’s almost 11:30. were you guys really talking for that long? “ellie, do you wanna sleep over? or i can walk yo-“ “no, ill sleep over it’s fine.” you nod. grabbing blankets for her, “you can sleep on my bed i’ll sleep on my couch.” ellie scoffs “no fucking way, i’m not taking your bed, i can have the couch.”

and due to both of your guys’ stubbornness, you are laying next to eachother, in the same bed staring at the ceiling. you look over and you see ellie has fallen asleep. she looked so beautiful and her front hair pieces fell on her face, capturing her beautiful. you move your hand to tuck it but then you get this wave of disgust. not to her, but to yourself.

what the fuck am i doing? I can’t like girls. am i stupid? i’m not gonna be seen as some dyke on the cheerleader team. my reputation would be ruined.

you ended up falling asleep teary eyed, scared to accept if these feelings are really true and maybe they’ll go away.

it’s almost summer, and the feelings are still lingering and infact they are stronger than before. after acing the project, you still

continued to hang out with ellie. you and her hung out every friday, and it became a ritual. you were starting to fall in love with her, and you knew there was no way out. everytime your asshole friends said anything about her that was negative, you jumped to defend her name like a knight. “you know the project deadline was months ago, while do you still hangout with her.” slightly irritated you snap, “she isn’t even bad once you get to know her, she’s funny and sweet.”

it wasn’t any different for ellie either, expect she was 100% convinced you were straight. you never once spoke of your sexuality to her, and for any matter guys in general but why would you like her? she grew up playing with worms, while you grew up going on constant vacations. but even though she thought it would never happen, she asked the universe for this one thing. she prayed to a lord she didn’t even believe in, hoping he will for once listen to her.

God works in mysterious ways because you’re sitting in ellie’s room drinking vodka blasting music. it’s odd how vodka can make somebody so honest. ellie was rambling about a story with an ex she had named cat, and drama between the two. she developed a habit of gossiping, probably from you. to make sure you’re still listening, she asks you. “how about you, any boy trouble?” its silent, and you look at her and start sobbing. ellie’s heart drops down to her stomach and instantly grabs you, pulling you close to her. “hey was it something i said? im sorry-“ “no!” you manage to yell out between your broken sobs. “i don’t think i like guys.” “what?” ellie says, shocked from what she heard.

“when i look at you, it’s not the same for any guy. sure i’ve made out with guys, but not even that gives me the same feeling of when im talking to you. i want it to be you so bad, ellie.” you hiccup, tears staining your eyes. “but this is all new for me, and i hate myself for being this way, i had everything anyone could ask for and it feels like im throwing it all away.”

ellie’s mind is going in all directions, the fact you like her. the fact shes finally getting her prayers answered. she pushes it to the side, because what you need is comfort. ellie holds you tight. so tight, you cannot wiggle out of her grasp. “hey baby, it all works out at the end, your existence isn’t a sin, people who truly love you, will accept you for who you are. and you don’t have to figure things out right now, take your time.” ellie replies, hovering her hand over your face to wipe your tears.

you’re looking up at her, inching your face closer to hers. she leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. you’re eager for more, so you grab her hair from behind and sloppily slid your mouth inside. ellie pulls away from the kiss, to get air, saliva connecting you guys to each other.

“hey els?” you say softly, having your knees tucked in.

“yeah?”

“since school is ending, there’s gonna be a rager. do you wanna come?”

ellie smiles at you, accepting your offer.

“i’ll be there.”

it’s the day of the rager, and ellie’s at her house with dina and jesse on her bed. “are you sure you really wannq go?” dina asks. ellie’s throwing her clothes everywhere, looking for an outfit to wear. “yeah,” jesse adds on “she doesn’t look like somebody who would hang out with you, what if this is all a prank?” ellie stops to look at them. “guys, i know you’re concerned but trust me on this, okay?” they nod their heads. “whatever happens, you can always tell us okay? whatever you choose to do , we’re with you.” ellie smiles and pulls them into a group hug. she’s wearing a wife pleaser, red flannel, and some jeans. shes tying her converse, she walks out the door, saying “wish me luck!”

she arrives at the house, and the music is so loud she can hear it from where she’s at. nervously she turns to twist the door knob and instantly she goes looking for you. she’s happy today after what happen yesterday, and she’s thinking to herself nothing can change her mood. until she saw you. you had a red solo cup in your hand. you were with a jock, who made it pretty clear he wanted you. was ellie a joke? was everything you said to her nothing after all? her friends were right. clenched fists, she turns to head out of the party, rushing to her car trying not to cry.

the jock wouldn’t take no for an answer, you’ve made it clear you’re not interested in him. “don’t be like that, i see the way you look at me.” you scrunch up your nose in disgust. “well you must be fucking blind.” and thats when you see in the corner of your eye, ellie. “fuck!” you murmur to yourself. ellie is already going towards the exist. as she’s walking down the steps of the porch. you scream, “wait! it’s not what it looks like, i swear-“

“do you think im a fucking joke? you made me feel like a fool.”

“ellie i swear nothing happened i was-“

“were you telling him your pranked worked? were you laughing about me? it’s done. i hope you had your fun.”

ellie is about to turn your back on you.

“ellie im in love with you!” you yell. loud enough

that people from the outside were looking at what was happening.

ellie looks around, “you’re drunk.”

“yes im drunk but that doesn’t change the fact im in love with you. the man that was talking to me. i was telling him to leave me alone. i only have eyes for you ellie! anybody who knows me has to get to know you first!” you breath starts to hitch, knowing you’re about to cry and how people are listening but you no longer care.

“i use to cry, praying that God took these feelings away. now im praying to God for letting me meet you. God knew I needed you Ellie.”

ellie stands there in disbelief, she doesn’t know what to say but her heart is about to explode. she runs to you, takes your hand and takes sits you in the passenger seat. closing the door, she starts the car and starts driving. she looks over at you, and you’re already staring at her. she places a hand on your thigh, and caresses it. “you’re perfect in every way, ways im not. i couldn’t believe somebody as amazing as you would want me, and im sorry.”

you smile, and place your hand on top of hers, “it’s okay, we were both pretty caught up” you giggle.

she would fight the world to hear that giggle again.

she pulls up to your driveway, and shes about to drive off but you ask her to stay the night. and how could she say no to that pretty face of yours?

it’s all dark, but you hold her hand and she follows you into your room. you play some music on your record player.

“do you like mazzy star els?”

“i dont listen to her much, but her voice is pretty.”

you walk up to her, and hold her by the waist. ellie looks down at you and pressed her lips onto yours. you close your eyes, melting into the kiss. you start getting hungrier for more, and you open your mouth to let her tongue slip into yours. the kisses start getting needier, and she walks you until your laying back on your bed. you straddle her waist, and she puts a hand up your dress causing you to whine.

“you’re okay with this right?”

“of course els, please hurry.”

“please what?”

you look away from her gaze, shyly, you fiddle with the seams of ellies wife pleaser and whisper to her , “please touch me, it can only be you.” and with that, ellie is slipping your dress off. kissing your collarbone all the way down to the welts of your breast. she takes off your matching set of panties and bra. and her cold hands on pinching your nipples make your back arch into her touch. she sucks on your nipples, flicking her tongue on it back and forth earning whimpers from you each and every time.

“n-need you els..” you stutter. “im not going anywhere baby.” she chuckles, her breath on your beast making you close your eyes in pleasure. “im gonna touch you now okay? tell me when to stop.” she slides her fingers between your folds.

“already so wet for me princess” and as she hovers to your face to kiss you, her front pieces of her hair are touching your own face. you’re sloppily making out with her, moaning into her mouth.

then she puts two of her fingers in, feeling you instantly clench around them. you start moaning louder and louder “ellie! ellie faster!” and she listens to you, curling her fingers even faster before hitting you in the g spot. your thighs start shaking. and your grabbing onto ellie’s fore arm, clawing it for any way to feel relief.

your moans reach an all time high and you know you’re almost there. im- im about to cum els!” and she starts sucking on your neck, “let it out for me baby, you deserve it come on.” and you reach your climax, sweating and panting. she takes her fingers out of you and sucks them. “you taste so good, everything about you is so sweet.”

still fucked out, you murmured incoherent sentences. “i wanna feel you against me els, please, please.” and ellie looks at you, grabbing your waist to pull you up. you looked at her in this love dovey expression and her heart skips a beat. “can i take this off?” you ask and she gulps and nods. you take off her flannel. then wife pleaser. then her jeans. leaving her in underwear and her sports bra, which now you’re taking off her underwear.

as for the most part both of you are naked, you place your cunt onto hers. you grind against her lightly. both of you whimpering sweet nothings. “i love you els i love you i love you” as you both of you are sweating, holding onto eachother, kissing as you slide on her and feel both of your holes clenching around nothing. “you’re doing so good f’ me” ellie blabbers. both of you are starting to reach your orgasms as you both moan in a higher octave, clawing at each others back, and feeling yourself twitch.

“i think im gonna cum i think-“ “come with me, be a good girl for me please.” she tells you needly, but you can’t even tease her because you want this just as much, if not more. both of you reach your climax, beads of sweat running down each of your fore heads. you disconnect yourself from her cunt. both of your arousals sticking to each other in a way your bodies seem like they’re made to mold into each other’s.

you collapse onto the back of your bed. ellie crawls to lay on your chest. kissing you over and over again, as a way to praise you. you giggle and run your hands through her hair, massaging her scalp.

“shouldn’t we clean up ellie?” you inquire, and you feel her breath on you again as she says “i wanna stay like this.” you nod and you bring blankets over you guys.

“im in love with you too.” ellie tells you.

“i think you showed me already.” you laughed.

“so are we girlfriends?” ellie asks you, looking up at you.

you kiss ellie, and tell her “if you go to every one of my practices.”

safe to say there was never a practice ellie didn’t go to.

[beautifulbuckys]

Midnight Phone Call (Peter Parker x GN!Reader)

Summary: You’re harboring feelings for close friend and classmate Peter Parker. But a few night time texts could possibly ruin the friendship.

Warnings: Some swearing, anxieties about unreciprocated feelings

A/N: Hi! This was a small blurb I wrote inspired by Can I Call You Tonight? by Dayglow! I watched NWH today and was in my Peter feels, so enjoy!

High school would be a drag if it wasn’t for Peter. 

If Peter Parker weren’t sitting next to me in history, I’d forget to write my name on all my papers. He’s the one that saves me from hour-long chemistry homework. Peter Parker gives me charred brownies May made the night before because he thinks I needed them. He’d walk me to my classes even if he didn’t share the class with me.

But high school caused me to like Peter. High school causes me to have this overwhelming, full-blown crush on Peter. High school keeps Peter Parker around me almost all day 5 days a week. High school forces me to suffer because of my feelings. 

It was exhausting. 

For a while, I shoved the crush down. I wouldn’t let any of my happy, flirty thoughts reach my brain no matter how much I tried. I resisted reading into situations. Lately? If I don’t think of Peter at least once a minute I’d be worried my brain shut down. There have been so many different situations in the past week that have been too close for comfort. By that, I mean, too coincidental for the said situation to happen between friends. 

Last week for instance. 

During lunch period, the cafe was loud and rowdy. This was nothing new for Midtown. Except for the craziness this week was caused by the new cupcakes the lunch ladies were serving. Almost everyone in the school had purchased one. Who could blame them? The chocolate goodness frosted with rich cream cheese ice cream was too good to turn up. Both Peter and I got one. We’d heard good things from the previous lunch block!

Peter finished his cupcake almost instantly. He’d basically swallowed the whole cupcake in one bite. I, however, was a slower eater. I’d barely finished my regular lunch by the bell. Midtown has a strict rule, however, that you can’t eat outside of class. Although I paid 50 cents for the cupcake, I’d be damned if I was going to waste it. I shoved the rich, chocolatey goodness in my mouth and chewed it on my way to class with Peter. 

However, once we got to calculus, Peter glanced over at me. A boyish grin spread across his face.

“Hey,” He nudged me with his elbow. The soft cotton of his long sleeve rubbed my bicep causing me to jump a little. 

I looked at him, the bell ringing. “What?”

His smile never left his face. “You got a lil’ something,” Peter pointed to the right side of my face. His pointing was vague so I placed my hand on my cheek. “No. Not there. Here, I’ve got it.” Peter his hand to the corner of my lip and wiped off a smudge of bright pink frosting I had sitting on my face with his thumb. He then brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked the small bit of frosting off of it. Once he was satisfied, he removed the appendage from his mouth with a small pop. 

“Oh…thanks,” The heat I felt on my face was unbearable. I couldn’t look at Peter for the rest of the class. Riddle me flustered. 

Now, I lay staring at my calcium-stained ceiling at 12:30 in the morning with nothing other than my thoughts. That was too much to bear. It was a Friday night. Everyone with a social life from Midtown was out partying at Flash’s house. I was sure of it. It was almost a weekly routine at this point. Nobody talks to each other in class but once schools out…major parties happen and then the cops are called. 

Not Peter though. 

He’s always awake at this time. Not partying, that’s not really his scene. His reason was unexplained. Whenever I asked, he’d say he was studying for a quiz or test coming up. I knew he was lying though. We share most classes, so when there was a quiz I’d know. At this point, I’ve chalked it up to being something personal for him. I’m not going to force it out of him. Especially if he’s this adamant about not telling me. 

12:37l Hey…you up?

A typing bubble on Peter’s behalf popped up immediately. He was a fast responder. If I ever needed anything, big or small, I could text him and count on him replying fast. 

PI 12:37I Yeah. What’s up?

Well. Shit. I didn’t really think this through. I had no plan. I needed a plan for something like this. It’s sad that I do. Before I realized I had these feelings for Peter, I could talk to him about anything at any time. But now? I can’t get two sentences in without stuttering. He’ll reply to things I say and I’ll always, without fail, find a way to read into his response. Finding a hidden meaning. It’s a blessing and a curse.

12:39I Can I call you?

I throw my phone down and rapidly stand up once I press send. This shouldn’t be so stressful. Should it? I’ve never had a serious crush before. Let alone on a close friend. What if this ruins the entire friendship? What if May doesn’t like me? Well, she’s already met me. She seems to like me. Unless she secretly despises me. Does she secretly despise me? Is she using her kindness as a ruse? I’m pacing around my room, hands on my hips. My pajama shorts were falling down due to all the movement, despite them being tied. Was it kind of annoying? Yeah. But the butterflies in my stomach were trumping that slight annoyance. 

Focus. 

The calm facade of sirens and car honks in New York City was disturbed by the happy chirping of my phone. I froze in place from my pacing. I felt like a deer in headlights. Do I let it ring through? No. I shouldn’t. I’m the one that asked Peter to call. You did this to yourself. Follow through. 

It took me a moment to find my phone. Due to me launching up from my bed, it was tangled in the jungle that was my comforter. I was only able to find it due to my phone screen turning on with each ring. 

Don’t be a pussy.

I swipe the green ‘answer’ button on my cracked screen. “Hello?”

“Hi!” Peter’s voice boomed through the speakers. He was far too cheery and energetic for it being 12:40 in the morning. Or maybe I’m being far too critical and gloomy. Yet, I can’t be mad at his happy tone. Hearing his voice, even if we were just on a phone call, made me feel far less alone  “Did you see the moon tonight? Look out your window. It’s gorgeous tonight.”

I obliged to Peter’s request. He was right. The large, white figure truly illuminated New York City’s skyline. The glow of the moon reflected off of the small stream by my house. It was a picture-perfect moment.

“Yeah, it is.”

Peter cleared his throat. “So, what’s got you up late? Something has gotta be on your mind if you asked to call.” Peter whispered. Besides his initial greeting, Peter kept quiet on our rare phone calls. May doesn’t like him up too late. She isn’t super strict about it. However, her room was right next to his and their walls were nearly paper thin. She valued her sleep and didn’t want it interrupted by Peter’s lousy conversation skills. 

I took a deep breath. “Honestly, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Well, you’ve got me on the phone. I can read you a story if you’re struggling to sleep? I know you never finished the Harry Potter series. I could read you the books that you left off on?” Peter offered. Lord, if only Peter Parker knew how fluttery that offer made you feel. “Or maybe I can read you one of those freaky Edgar Allen Poe poems MJ loaned me. I’ve been too scared to get through them alone. You’re the person I need to push myself to read them.” “I love you.” I blurted. 

And then hung up. Smart thinking! Go me!

Peter instantly tried to call me back. My phone screen turned on once more, showing the picture of Peter and I at NY Comic Con from last fall. His dorky smile paired with his lame Luke Skywalker cosplay was enough to have me immortalize the picture as my lock screen. I huffed. Was that a good idea? Probably not. Definitely not. Yet, I did it. With no thought about the consequences. Christ, school on Monday was going to be awkward. I waited around a minute, allowing the call to ring through. I didn’t touch my phone for another 5. I was mortified. Frozen in place, still standing where I was when I accepted Peter’s first call. I was staring at the wall, waiting for something crazy to happen. Maybe this was a dream? I’d wake up in 5…4…3…2..,1…I look down at my arms and see them still holding my phone. Shit. This is reality.

Maybe Doctor Strange can magic me out of this?

My phone buzzes once more. It’s not a phone call this time, though. It’s a text. Nobody else is awake, besides the Midtown partiers who I don’t talk to. I’m not making enough noise for it to be either one of my parents texting me to quiet down. That meant it must be Peter. Amazing! Being let down over text would be a nice memory to tell my 50 cats when I’m 90 and rotting away.

PI12:49I Don’t go and leave me so easy :(

My phone buzzed again.

PI12:50I You didn’t even let me reply dickhead.

I have to deal with the consequences. I open the texts, seeing the previous messages from the day we’ve shared. After a deep breath, I pressed the call button on the top right of the screen. The call rang once before Peter answered. 

“I love you too, idiot.” 

I smiled. “I’m glad I called you tonight.”

I heard a slight chuckle on the other end. “Me too,”

[kasienda]

A Miraculous Reveal: A Gift of Responsibility

It had seemed like an ordinary day. Except that Marinette had been on time for school. That, like, almost never happened. But here she was in her seat ten minutes before class was to begin, snacking on a croissant her father had handed her on the way out the door and chatting idly with Alya about nothing remotely important. 

Her classmates filed in slowly in clumps until finally everyone except Adrien was in their seats. She watched his empty seat with a hint of worry. She always hated when he wasn’t there - knowing he was either trapped in a photoshoot he cared nothing about, or was home in bed with illness. 

But before her anxiety could spiral too deep, he slipped casually through the doorway. But he paused, facing the whole class. He smiled softly as his gaze swept the room, but there was something sad and wistful about his expression. 

“Are you okay?” she asked him. 

His spring-green eyes whipped back to her, and his smile grew. “Yes, of course. I just… I have some changes coming up, and I just wanted to savor this normal morning.” 

“What changes?” Nino asked. 

“Oh… ummm…” Adrien’s hand flew to the back of his neck. “I’m going to go back to home schooling in a week.” 

Keep reading on Ao3

Marinette’s eyes shot open, and her gut twisted painfully.

“What?!” Alya exploded. 

“That’s so uncool, dude!” Nino was shouting. “What toe did you step out of line this time?” 

Marinette couldn’t speak through the lump in her throat or the churning in her stomach. 

Adrien shook his head. “I agreed to it, actually,” he admitted.

“What?! Why?!” Nino demanded, his face looked exactly how Marinette felt. What would life be like without Adrien’s kind and patient smile offering her warmth and comfort? What would his life be like when he was being shuffled between photoshoots and tutors without anyone who wasn’t being paid a salary to remain in his presence? 

“He needs my help,” Adrien said. “Nathalie is sick, and he’s under a lot of pressure and apparently he wants to start training me in the… family business. He said I can still have you all over once a week.”

She and Nino exchanged a glance. Of course, Gabriel would buy Adrien’s compliance by offering the one thing Adrien always strived for - his father’s high opinion and attention. 

“You’re even allowed to all visit at the same time, so we could have, like parties, and movie nights!” Adrien exclaimed, his face lighting in genuine delight, and Marinette couldn’t help reciprocate the expression. “That was our compromise,” he added softly before his eyes fell into his lap and he trailed off into silence. “I know it won’t be the same,” he whispered.

“It’s okay, dude,” Nino reassured with a huge smile. Marinette was completely confident Nino was burying his own feelings to put on a brave face for Adrien. “We understand. This is a chance to spend time with your old man.” 

Adrien nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’ll be nice,” Adrien agreed, but his expression didn’t match his tone, and Marinette grew more worried. 

Her hand reached for his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asked. 

His smile stretched fondly across his face as his green eyes turned to her. Heat bloomed in her cheeks and she glanced down into her hands. 

“Yes, Marinette. I’m okay with it. I think it’ll work out well for a lot of people.” 

She made herself smile back at him. If he was excited, she wouldn’t poison it with her worries. At least she was still going to get to see him every now and again. 

“Actually, Marinette?”

“Yeah?” 

“Can I talk to you after class? Alone?” 

The blush in her cheeks burned hotter. “Uh… y-yes, absolutely.” 

She didn’t need to look at Alya, to feel the heat of her friend’s teasing gaze. Marinette kicked her from under the table. 

But then class was starting, Adrien had turned back around to face the front, and Marinette had to pretend that she wasn’t going out of her mind about whatever it was that Adrien wanted to talk to her about. 

The morning went by agonizingly slow. Like the clocks had clearly been spelled to go backwards when they weren’t being directly observed or something. 

When their morning classes finally concluded, Alya departed rapidly, hooking Nino’s arm through her elbow and dragging him away on her way out. Adrien watched them leave arm in arm with a sad smile before he turned back to her. 

“Shall we?” he asked. 

And she nodded, not trusting her tongue to form a coherent response, before following him out. 

It didn’t take long for them to find some privacy in a private alcove. She knew it was a good spot to not be seen. She had transformed here more than once. 

“So, I have a confession to make,” he said into the silence, his eyes gazing directly into her eyes. 

She nodded rapidly urging him to continue, trying to ignore her heart, which was currently threatening to beat out of her chest. 

“I lied earlier. I don’t have another week. Today is my last day.” 

Whatever she had been expecting or hoping he would say, that was not it. “I… What? Why?” 

“I just… I didn’t want everyone to make a big deal out of it today. I just… wanted one last normal day,” his gaze had shifted past her, and his sadness struck her in the chest. 

“I understand,” she said. “I won’t tell anyone.” 

He smiled again. “Thank you, Marinette. You’ve always been so good with secrets.” 

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” she asked. 

He shook his head. “Actually, no.” And he reached into his bag and pulled out a small wrapped package. “I have something for you.” He handed it to her.

“For me? What about the others?” 

“This could only be for you, Marinette.” His tone was so certain and yet so gentle. How was she ever going to get over this boy? 

She started to open it, but his hands covered her. 

“Open it when you get home,” he said. 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t want to see what I think of it?” 

He shook his head. “I’m quite confident you’d give me an earful, but…”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How much did you spend on me?” 

He held his hands up in surrender. “None, actually… Not that you’re not completely worth it! This just isn’t that kind of gift!” he told her. “Just… promise me that you’ll open it as soon as possible.” 

“You sure you don’t want me to open it now?” 

“I’m certain! It’s… private… and embarrassing! I don’t want anyone else to see it. It’s only for you, okay?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed together. It was like he was trying to tell her something, but wasn’t allowed to say it out loud. “Okay,” she agreed. 

He smiled. “Thank you, Marinette.” And he pulled her into a hug. She let herself linger for a second, but then tried to pull away. He just squeezed her harder, and she let herself melt against him, her arms wrapping around his back. 

A second later, she realized his whole form was shaking. 

He was crying. 

She had no idea what to do. 

“Adrien? Is… everything okay?” 

He pulled away, and wiped his eyes. He was shaking his head. “No,” he said, but then he smiled through his tears at her. “But it will be. I promise you that.” 

And then he was leaving, and she didn’t know what to say to bring him back. She just clutched the small package to her chest, wondering what might be inside. 

… 

The second Marinette was through the bakery doors of her family home, she bolted upstairs without so much as a “Hey, how was your day?” to either of her parents.

She pulled the wrapped parcel from her bag as she was climbing the slanted ladder to her room, and the second the trap door was closed, she dropped her bag unceremoniously to the floor, and Tikki buzzed excitedly in the air beside the present. 

“What’d he get you?” Tikki asked. 

“I don’t know,” Marinette said, even as she was tearing through the paper wrapper. 

She finally revealed a little black box and a letter that had been folded up eight times to fit under the box.

She opened the box and her giddy excitement vanished like a puff of smoke. In its place, she felt raw dread twisting in her gut. 

Before she could even ask Tikki for confirmation, A sparkling green light confirmed her fears. This was Chat Noir’s ring. 

Plagg manifested right in front of her. He whirled around, taking in her room. 

“Damnit kid! I told you to not be rash,” he grumbled. “Hiya pigtails! How’re things?” he asked casually as if it was completely normal to see her every afternoon. 

“Plagg?!” Marinette screeched. “What are you doing here? What happened to Chat?”

“Well, obviously he must have given me to you,” Plagg said. 

And Marinette felt dizzy. If that was true, Adrien was Chat Noir. But she couldn’t scream about that now. Something was wrong. 

“But why?” she demanded. Something was wrong.

“Did you read his letter?” Plagg asked. 

She tore open the letter, ripping it once in her haste, but it was fine. She could still read it.

Her eyes scanned through his words rapidly. 

Please forgive me, princess, for putting this on your shoulders. 

My partner and I have been chasing the same guy pretty much since the day you and I met. And yesterday, I found out who he is. 

He’s my father. 

That last line was blurred with obvious tear stains. 

I am entrusting you with this keepsake that was gifted to me because it is no longer safe with me. I couldn’t even risk using it one more time to contact my partner as I’m more closely protected than before. It’s far safer with you. 

And I’m asking that you do more than keep it safe. I’m hoping you will use it and take on the role that I once did in protecting my partner. 

And I know that is a lot to ask. But I’ve watched you handle all the tools in the box simultaneously, and you’re an absolute natural, princess. I have no doubt that you could fill my role seamlessly. 

My father’s assistant has fallen ill. He used to rely on her for everything, but now that she’s sick he has entrusted her role to me. 

But I can’t. I can’t betray my partner. I love her. 

Please entrust everything I’ve said to my partner whether or not you decide to fill my shoes. I hope together, the two of you can come up with a plan to deal with my father. 

And make it fast. 

I don’t know how long I can pull off pretending. 

~Your Black Knight

She was barely aware of the tears pouring down her face. She was too angry. 

“Plagg! Is he okay? Tell me he’s okay!” He hasn’t seemed okay during lunch. He had seemed sad all day, but at lunch, when they had been alone he had broken down for a moment. 

“I mean… he’s physically fine. The bastard didn’t hit him or anything. And on some level the man is trusting his son for the first time since his wife disappeared.” 

His wife! Adrien’s mother! That was why he was doing this, wasn’t it? 

Marinette could almost understand. Almost. She thought she might be capable of anything to protect her loved ones. 

But she liked to think that she would have stopped once she realized how much she was hurting others. She wasn’t sure though.

“But my kid’s heart is breaking that he has to betray him in the end,” Plagg continued. 

Then she shook her head at herself. Her partner was so good and so pure, that he was willing to stand against his own father. Willing to throw a wrench into a plan to bring back his own mother. Because it was the right thing to do. 

Marinette would follow his example. Her hand tightened around Chat Noir’s - around Adrien’s - ring. 

Gabriel didn’t deserve her understanding anyway. 

Because Gabriel hadn’t just hurt Chat Noir with his Akumas. Adrien himself had been a victim of them on several occasions occasion, he had been the target more than once. 

What kind of father did that to his own son? 

She slipped on the ring. 

“Marinette!” Tikki shrieked. “You cannot unify myself and Plagg,” she warned. “Not without risking reality itself.” 

Marinette nodded. “I understand, Tikki. Don’t worry. I have a plan.” 

As Chat Noir has pointed out, Marinette could use every miraculous in the box. And she wasn’t going to wait.

Because she had a partner to save, a friend to hold in a never ending hug until he was well and truly cried out, and a love to fight for. 

Hawkmoth wouldn’t know what hit him.

[peachlolitasevillacourtstuff]

Cedrick's birthday, part 1

Attention the characters that appear and will be mentioned are not mine, they are ocs of @autumn2art, @xeo-kunsatan, @ghostbunnyarts Thanks for your attention <3.

-----

One ordinary morning, Cedrick was in his room sleeping, until.

"BIIIIP! BIIIIP!"

Alarm ringing

Cedrick: mmmhhh .. I don't want to go to school! >: T * trying to go back to sleep, but he realizes something * Ah yes today is my birthday! :D

he goes to his father's room, and begins to shake him around.

Cedrick: Dad! Dad! Wake up! you know what day it is!

Stratos: Cedrick! What are you doing up so early! ah right today is my child's birthday! * he said with a smile as he hugged him *

Cedrick: my cousins are coming! my aunt! and pac and company? :o

Stratos: of course they would not miss this celebration, but now go have breakfast, and get ready! that today we have many duties!

Cedrick: oh yeah right! but I don't want to go to school today! :c

stratos: but you won't have a party if you don't go! uwu

cedrick: ok :(

After 30 minutes of getting ready and having breakfast, Cedrick is picked up by the school bus from his school, when he arrived at the classroom he was received by his classmates and his teacher Mr. Daniels, that strange man with dark blue skin, gray hair and flat, white eyes always looked at him and his companions with great fear.

Mr. daniels: good morning children! good morning Kids..

he said with his nod and his voice quite low.

Cedrick: why did this man touch us !? * asked himself as he evaded him and settled on his desk *

The teacher started his class, everyone paid attention, many hours passed, everyone began to withdraw from school, outside the elementary school was his cousin, Bradley was waiting for him right there, Cedrick ran and hugged him.

Cedrick: BRADLEY! :D

Bradley: How have you been Small! I see you excited for your party today! * stroking his hair *

-----

When he arrived at the round house he was well received by the guards, they were, pacman, spiral and cylindra helping to decorate the garden for the birthday party, Stratos was giving them directions.

Stratos: if you eat everything! You will not have pacman cake! * he said with a fixed look at the yellow boy *

Pac: I get it .. * he said with a nervous smile * (control yourself! Control yourself! D ":)

cyli: ​​look, the birthday boy is here! :D

cedrick: cyli, Spiral, Pacman :D

Spiral: what happened little friend! You are getting bigger and bigger! >:D

stratos: until you show up! I've been calling you all morning and you didn't answer me! >: v * scolding Bradley *

Bradley: Do you need money for his gift?

Stratos - From here I smell sweat and other fluids! Go take a bath right now! D:<* I point to him *

Bradley: ok -_-

Cedrick: Will my uncle and my cousin dad be around? * asked kindly *

Stratos: * looks at cedrick * probably! But pac will be here in the event of a disaster!

Cedrick: ok ...

-----

in the underworld betrayus watching from his slimy camera how they prepare everything for his nephew cedrick's birthday.

Betrayus: demon they don't invite me like always * pouting *

Mitzy: Yes xP

Buttler: but good on the good side his nephew is going to have a wonderful birthday party .. * said motivating *

Betrayus: I know, but that damn lemon ball is among them! and we always end up losing!

Buttler: And are you going to send his little nephew a gift?

Betrayus: knowing my stupid brother, he wouldn't allow me to get near my nephew!

mitzy: but you have to give him a gift :3

Betrayus: but what would it be !? * said thinking *

Mitzy: oh I already have an excellent idea! :D * he said with the light on *

Betrayus: seriously which one? :D

-----

Jack: COUSIN! <3 *I greet your little cousin*

Cedrick: hello cousin jack! :3 * hugs her little cousin *

Ellie: Cousin look how big you are !? :)

CEdrick: yes cousin Ellie ^ //// ^

Arimette / Molasses: aaawww look at these just as pretty as the last time I saw you! ^^ * said her aunt while she pinched his cheek *

Ellie: I hope it's too late! because we brought you many gifts! :3

Cedrick: Yes! and what did they bring me from pac-tokyo? ...

Jack: We brought you some ...

Stratos: Sister how long! * welcoming her with open arms *

Arimette/molasses: Brother how have you been! I already know what betrayus did! I never thought that he ...

Stratos: I didn't expect him to do such a thing with your daughter either! but now i keep him away from jack and cedrick! unu;

Rotunda: son, won't you greet your mother! <3

Mrs. Spheros said entering the scene, she hugs her son as well as Arimette/molasses.

Bradley: Hi Grandma: -_-

rotunda: hello ... ¬_¬ ...

Since the whole family was gathered they sat at the large table, where the cake was, Mr. Sir.c was in charge of preparing the hamburgers and sausages with the help of his fellow Grinder, at the same time spheria appeared among all the guests.

Spheria: hello everyone! * greets with a gift for cedrick in his hands *

Sir.C: there is my sweet and beautiful spheria that brings you here! <3

Spheria: very good, I have a present for the little stratos! : D

Sir.C: I notice your voice somewhat tense, something happened !?

Spheria: * is going to leave the gift on the gift table * visit my old friend Arena! it's worse than ever! They have to sedate her constantly! she always spends her time tied up in bed and doesn't stop screaming! unu;

Sir.c: poor woman! the war if that upset it!

spheria: yes .. but now we have to have fun, after all it's cedrick's birthday ..

Among the guests was Bradley's dog, "Quartzy" with a basket full of cookies as a gift to Cedrick.

Continue...

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Three’s A Crowd, Four’s A Party

My Best Friend’s Brother pt 1, pt 2, Breakfast

This takes place mostly after Breakfast

Word Count: 3048

Rating: Teen

Pairings: pre-intrumoxceit, mostly anxceit with a healthy dose of pining!moxiety

Warnings: minor swearing, dark-ish jokes, Virgil being afraid of being murdered cuz anxiety, nothing major

~~~START~~~

Virgil Knight has had a crush on Janus Parcel for years — probably his whole life. He met Janus in pre-school and has been absolutely devoted to him ever since. 

From an outside perspective, it probably looked like Virgil was head over heels for Janus, and Janus was completely indifferent to him, but Virgil knows that’s not true. Janus likes keeping his cards close to his chest — he always has — but he’s completely devoted to Virgil, too. 

Janus is the one who told him about the rumors that were going around about him in seventh grade. Middle school meant new classmates, and new classmates meant people who’d never met Virgil before, people who didn’t watch him spend the last seven years following Janus around the playground like a lost puppy. They thought Virgil was a loner (he wasn’t a loner, Janus just had a different lunch than him), they thought he hated people (usually true), and they thought he couldn’t talk (it’s true that Virgil didn’t particularly like talking to people he didn’t know, but he’s not sure how everyone could possibly think he couldn’t talk). Virgil’s favorite rumor had been the one that he was a vampire; he once wore fangs to school just to freak people out. 

Virgil returned the favor by telling Janus the rumors that spread about him in ninth grade. 

During the summer between eighth and ninth grade, Janus fell face first into some sticker bushes while trying to pop a wheelie on his bike. The end result was a long, thin scar trailing down his face. When they started high school in the fall, a rumor spread like wildfire that Janus had been injured in a knife fight. 

The very thought that Janus would ever fight someone with a knife was ridiculous (“always bring a gun to a knife fight, Virge,” Jan liked to say, not that Jan had a gun, or liked to fight, but he did like winning), but Janus found the rumor hilarious, and never did anything to dissuade people from it. 

It was in high school that Virgil realized that he loved Janus romantically. It wasn’t that the feelings started in high school, that’s just when Virgil realized they were there. 

He didn’t do anything about them, Janus was always the leader; Virgil figured that if his feelings were reciprocated, Jan would let him know. 

There was one time in tenth grade that they almost kissed. They’d been watching a movie at Janus’ house, or rather, they’d been having a heated debate about philosophy (a subject Virgil only started arguments about because Janus was cute when he was passionate) while a movie played in the background, when they found their faces very close together — Virgil could swear that Janus had been looking at his lips — but Mrs. Parcel had walked in before anything happened. 

They never talked about it. 

Two months later, Virgil met Remus Kingsley at an art competition, and suddenly their twosome became a threesome. 

Virgil’s crush on Remus had been much easier to identify — especially since he’d been crushing hard on Remus’ identical twin brother Roman the year before. Until he learned that Roman was a pompous jerk that is. 

Remus wasn’t a jerk though, which is why his crush didn’t go away after a month like it had with Roman. Remus was sweet, and affectionate, and so very very excitable. He could be loud, and impulsive, and sometimes he stepped over the line, but he was very good at remembering where the line was once he’d crossed it once so that he wouldn't do it again. 

Remus had his own rumors floating around school. Well, ‘rumors’ wasn’t really the right word since most of them were true. Any rumor that wasn’t true was like a self-fulfilling prophecy, and Remus almost always followed through — he never killed anyone though, and that’s always a huge plus in Virgil’s book. 

It was easy for Virgil to fall in love with Remus, but it was even easier for him to see that Janus fell in love with him too. 

Eleven months after Remus joined their group, Virgil noticed a shift in Remus and Janus’ relationship — it was subtle, but it was there — and that’s all Virgil needed to know that his best friends were dating and hiding it from him. 

Two months into Janus and Remus hiding their relationship from him, Virgil was sitting on Janus’ couch, waiting for Remus to get there so they could start movie night. He barely paid attention when the doorbell started ringing (and didn’t stop until after Janus answered the door), or when Remus burst into the living room cheering about a ‘party’, but when a solid weight landed in his lap, he noticed. 

Virgil let out a startled hiss, thinking that Remus had launched himself into Virgil’s lap, but the blue eyes that blinked up at him owlishly from behind a pair of large, round glasses were decidedly not Remus’. 

The boy in his lap and Virgil stared at each other for a moment as Virgil’s brain tried to think of something to say, literally anything to say. ‘Looks like you’ve fallen for me’, ‘come here often?’ or even just ‘hi’. Anything. 

“S-sorry,” the boy stuttered, blushing. 

Virgil blushed too because this was Patton Morales, Virgil’s third persistent crush. Patton Morales was sitting in his lap. Virgil’s gay heart might just explode right now because Patton Morales is talking to him. 

“It’s, uh, it’s fine,” Virgil finally said, like a moron.

He’d never actually met Patton before, never even had classes with him, but Virgil knew who he was. 

Virgil’s admired Patton Morales from afar since freshman year when Patton yelled at a group of seniors for pushing around a couple of seventh graders that included Virgil’s younger sibling, Elliot. And since Patton wasn’t one of their friends, Virgil might have mentioned liking him once or twice to Remus and Jan, a mistake that probably led to Patton falling into his lap a few seconds ago. 

Fortunately, Virgil’s saved from having to think of anything else to say by Remus jumping on the couch and yelling “movie!”

Unfortunately, Remus began bouncing up and down, and as a result, Virgil instinctively wrapped his arms around Patton Morales’ waist to keep him from flying off. 

So now he was sitting on the couch. With Patton Morales in his lap. With his arms around Patton Morales’ waist!

Honestly the rest of the evening was a bit of a blur because the only thing Virgil could focus on was how warm Patton was. Every time Patton shifted, Virgil had to fight the urge to tighten his arms around his waist — if Patton wanted to move, Virgil would let him — he never even attempted to get up though, and Virgil hoped he couldn’t feel his heart racing. 

At some point, Remus got up from the couch, stripped most of his clothes off, and lay on the ground. At the same time, Janus also got up and turned the light off before settling himself onto the recliner, leaving just Virgil and the now-sleeping Patton on the couch. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Virgil hissed, praying that Patton didn’t wake up. 

“Sleep on the couch,” Janus deadpanned, clearly conveying how ridiculous he found the question. 

“What do I do with Patton?” Virgil rephrased. The blond stirred against his chest and Virgil held his breath in fear that he’d disturbed the sleeping boy, but Patton just sighed and burrowed deeper into his chest, completely out. 

“Wake him up if he’s bothering you,” Janus answered knowing full well that Virgil would rather die than inconvenience someone. 

“Sell him on the black market!” Remus piped up. 

“Maybe we should try selling you on the black market,” Janus suggested. “Might go for a few bucks.”

“Aww, Janny, you love me too much to sell me!” Remus grinned. 

“You’re a stepping stone on my path to world domination,” Janus replied breezily. 

Normally, Virgil would enjoy the playful banter and might add something to this conversation, but right now he’s too focused on getting into a reclined position on the couch without waking Patton. Once he was in the recliner position though, his legs stuck off the couch awkwardly and he had to shimmy up the couch until his head was against one armrest and his feet were against the other. 

Luckily, Patton continued to slumber. Virgil let out a small sigh of relief, he could hear Janus laughing at him from the recliner, but he refused to acknowledge him. 

 There was a clock on the wall somewhere in Janus’ house. Usually the sound of it ticking out the seconds was drowned out by the TV, or Remus, or something. But right now, at dark o’clock in the morning, with the other three people in the house fast asleep, and the menu screen for the last movie they watched was illuminating the living room, there was nothing for Virgil to do but listen to the steady ticking. The steady ticking, and the soft breathing of the boy sleeping on top of him. 

For hours, Virgil’s brain had been consumed with thoughts of Patton. What will he do when he wakes up? Does he like Virgil back? Is he going to be creeped out that he essentially slept on a stranger? Does he like Virgil back?

All important questions, and all too loud for Virgil to fall asleep. 

Light was starting to peek in through the window to Janus’ living room by the time Virgil finally managed to fall asleep. 

 He awoke hours later when someone sat down on his stomach. 

“Up and at ‘em, sleeping beauty!”

Virgil opened his eyes to glare at Janus. There’s significantly more light now, and Virgil can’t see anyone in the living room other than himself and Janus. 

“I hate you,” Virgil groaned, pushing Jan off him. 

Janus moves easily enough, allowing himself to be pushed off the couch. 

“Remus left to take Patton home,” Janus told him, moving over to sit on the recliner. 

“Hmm,” Virgil sat up to stretch, his back popping satisfyingly. “What time is it?”

“Almost two. How long did you lie away thinking about Patton?” Janus asked, resting his head on his fist and smirking. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” but his blush betrayed him if Janus’ growing smirk was anything to go off. 

“Of course not. Patton made pancakes for you, they’re in the freezer but he left specific instructions on how to reheat them.”

“Wow, actual breakfast food? How glamorous.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Janus warned. 

The pancakes were pretty good heated up, and definitely beat the dry cereal/leftover pizza they usually ate for breakfast when Janus’ parents were out of town. 

“You can stay, you know,” Janus said after pancakes, as Virgil was gearing up to go home. 

“Nah, I haven’t been home for like two days, I should make sure it’s still standing and stuff.” Honestly Virgil would love to stay at Janus’, but he’s gotta make sure Elliot is ok. 

He walked home from Janus’, it took him over half an hour, but it let him delay the inevitable a little longer. 

 Virgil lay awake that night long after even Elliot had fallen asleep, quietly snoring in the bed across the room. Virgil himself was still suffering from having laid awake the entire night before, so he just lay in bed, scrolling through Tumblr on his phone, while blasting Fall Out Boy through his headphones. 

At around two a.m., a pillow flew across the room and hit his legs, effectively gaining Virgil’s attention. He pulled the headphones off one ear and turned to his sibling quizzically. 

Elliot continued to lay on their side, looking asleep except that they stuck one arm out to point at the window. 

“Window,” they muttered, grabbing their own headphones as best they could while refusing to open their eyes. 

A second later a tapping came from said window, and Virgil turned to find Janus balancing on the tree branch outside. He glanced back to Elliot, but they were steadfastly refusing to move. 

Virgil crossed the room to open the window and let Janus in. 

“What are you doing here?” He hissed, listening for any indication that his parents had been awoken. 

“I wanted to try something,” Janus said quietly, refusing to meet Virgil’s eyes as he slowly peeled off his gloves. 

“What?”

This time Janus did meet his eyes, he had clearly steeled himself up for whatever he wanted to try. 

“If I make you uncomfortable,” he whispered. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Virgil was about to ask what he was talking about, but Janus brought both his naked hands up to cup Virgil’s face, and his entire being just froze. Had Janus been standing this close the entire time? Janus was leaning even closer- shit shit shit. 

Their lips connected and the only thing Virgil’s goddamn cursed mind could come up with was ‘kiss kiss fall in love’. 

Janus started pulling back after a couple of seconds of Virgil just standing there, frozen, which finally spurred Virgil into action. He placed his hands on Janus’ hips, returning the kiss to the best of his ability. He could feel Janus smirking against his lips, but he didn’t care as long as they were still kissing. 

A pillow hit the back of Virgil’s head. 

He turned to find Elliot still curled in their bed like they hadn't moved at all, but now they had no more pillows

Janus chuckled quietly. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

“Yeah, you go ahead, I’ll be down in a second.”

Janus nodded and headed back out the window. 

Virgil grabbed his backpack and his headphones before heading for the window. 

“You’re leaving?” Elliot asked, no longer ignoring him. 

“Yeah, cover for me?” Elliot shrugged, but Virgil knew that was a yes. 

Janus was waiting for him on the ground, and once Virgil got down, they both silently headed off towards the park located a few blocks away from Virgil’s house. 

“So,” Virgil broke the silence once he was sure they were far enough away. “That was…”

“Late?” Janus offered with a rueful smile. 

“I was gonna say ‘nice’, but yeah.”

“Well I wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again.” Janus slipped his hand into Virgil’s and gave it a squeeze. 

“I thought we were supposed to be talking?” Virgil teased as they finally reached the park. 

“We can do both,” Janus suggested, his blush visible even in the sparsely lit park and Virgil snorted. As much as Janus liked to pretend that he was suave and mysterious, he was just a dork. 

“We’re outside,” Virgil pointed out. 

“So?”

“Lots of serial killers target young couples out late at night.”

“Oh my god! That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” Janus demanded. “Our chances of being murdered?”

“I’m always thinking about my chances of being murdered,” Virgil answered earnestly. 

“Oh my god,” Janus repeated as he pushed Virgil into a tree, pinning him there. “You’re the worst.”

“I know.” Virgil smiled innocently up at Janus, wrapping his arms around his neck. Janus continued to glare at him, so Virgil added a slight pout. 

“You’re too cute for your own good,” complained Janus as he leaned forward. 

This time when Janus kissed him, Virgil was ready to respond in kind. He’d been thinking of doing this for so long that he could hardly get enough. 

A branch snapped a few feet away, causing Virgil to jump back from Janus. Unfortunately, he was still pressed up against a tree so all he really did was hit his head on the bark. 

“Shit!” 

“Are you alright?” Janus asked, managing to hold back his laughter, but unable to keep the smirk off his face. 

“We’re going to be murdered,” Virgil informed him, ducking away from the tree and heading off in the direction of the noise. 

“We’re not going to be murdered, it was probably a squirrel or something.”

“That’s what murderers want you to think!”

By the time Virgil was responsibly certain that there was no one else in the park — let alone anyone that would kill them — Janus had taken a seat on one of the swings. 

“We’re doing all the stereotypes,” Virgil commented as he sat on the swing next to Jan. “Teenagers, having a deep conversation in the park at night, on the swing set.”

“Hmm.” Janus kicked his foot against the ground, moving his swing slightly. “I like you.”

“Yeah I kinda figured that out.”

“Hush, I’m trying to talk. I like you. You like me. Both of us like Remus. Remus likes both of us.”

“You’re sure?” Virgil whispered. As far as Virgil could tell, Remus never acted like he had a crush on Virgil, and he’d hate to be operating on an incorrect assumption moving forward, it would be too awkward. 

“Yes, Remus and I already had this conversation. We both decided that I should tell you alone so as to not overwhelm you.”

“What- uh, what now?” Virgil stuttered. He was blushing so hard that Janus could probably feel the heat radiating off of him. He’d liked Janus for years, and then he’d liked Remus for almost as long as he’d known him, and they both liked him back? He could barely wrap his head around it. 

“My original plan was for the three of us to get together,” Janus said slowly. “But I’ve realized there’s one more thing I forgot to factor in.”

That was so vague. Too vague, it gave Virgil way too much room to overthink. Luckily, Janus seemed to know that, and continued speaking unprompted. 

“And I think that instead of a threesome, we should become a foursome.”

“A foursome?”

“You and Remus are both clearly smitten with Patton Morales,” Janus explained. “And I can, erm, see his appeal.”

It was Janus’ turn to blush, and Virgil could help but wonder what had happened yesterday to cause that reaction. 

“So you want the three of us… and Patton?” Janus nodded. “But how are we- he’s afraid of us! He’s like- he’s like a fluffy little puppy, and we’re like a pack of feral cats!”

“Puppies notoriously love everyone,” Janus shot back. “Besides, I have a plan.”

~~~END~~~

Up next will be Janus’ absolutely 100% foolproof plan to get Patton to fall in love with them (it’ll be 5 parts, one for every step in the plan)

Taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @the-sunshine-dims @taylorxoxo22 @oatmealoatmealoatmealoatmealoatm @007ardra @fandomfan315 @sophiexteresa @smolemopotato @contemplativespectrum @theyluna-womoon @queer-chair @your-gay-enby-highness @sanderssides-angst @idont-freaking-know @marshymoop @imlovethomassanders @sourshadowling @frogsandcookies @aricana8 @cute-and-angsty-princess @icantthinkofacreativeurl @captain-oats

[thewritewolf]

Running to Catch An Airplane Trope

Adrien has lost just about everything now that his father has been unmasked as Hawkmoth. But he isn't about to lose her too. 

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien watched as Nino walked up to the podium and took his diploma, to general applause and the loud cheers of his family.

His hand tightened around his own diploma. There hadn’t been much of either when Adrien walked up, the first name called.

Barely any applause. Mostly just whispers. Some worried. Some… accusing. He supposed he couldn’t blame them, after everything that had happened still so fresh in the mind of the public.

There weren’t any loud cheers from his family. Mostly because there wasn’t much of one left anyway. He’d known for years that his father would never attend something as plebeian as a high school graduation, but…

Adrien hadn’t thought it would be like this. He’d had no clue at all about any of it.

It had taken all five of them - Ladybug, Chat Noir, Carapace, Rena Rouge, even Queen Bee - but they’d finally done it. Hawkmoth and Mayura, unmasked for all the world to see. No going back, no sneaky tricks to get away from it.

The only cost? Adrien’s family. His father and Nathalie, jailed. His mother, gone for a second time. His home, leveled in the pitched battle that followed. All his life except for his heartbeat is what it took to bring Hawkmoth to justice.

His teammates still didn’t know why he’d left so quickly afterwards, how he’d immediately detransformed and broken down. For most of them, they would never know. After all, no need for the secondary heroes now that the terrible Hawkmoth had been unmasked. Paris would rest easy under Ladybug and Chat Noir’s watch.

There is more clapping and Adrien mechanically joins in, only to be startled when everyone begins standing up around him. The ceremony is over, just like his days of childhood. His classmates are chatting excitedly amongst each other as they head across the street. It takes him a moment to gather the strength to stand up, but when he does, he is surrounded by his real friends.

Nino. Alya. And…

“How are you feeling?” Marinette asked softly.

This was the worst part. It was their graduation! Everyone should be happy and celebrating and here he was, dragging down the mood with his own misery. Just like always. It wasn’t fair to them, not in the least. Swallowing his emotions, he offered a strained smile.

“I’m doing better,” he lied.

Marinette didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t say anything. Nino threw his arm around Adrien’s shoulder and they all followed after the rest of their class. For a moment, the prospect of having Dupain-Cheng pastries was almost enough to make Adrien forget it all. It was a good choice of venue for them - what better place to end their time together than the site of so many of their happiest memories?

Adrien was just about to sink his teeth into a passion fruit macaron when he started listening into what his former classmates were saying.

“-Going to school for botany, so I can open my own flower shop!” Rose said, giving Juleka a hug out of excitement.

Adrien shoved the macaron in his mouth and walked toward another part of the shop to find another. There, he overheard what Alix was saying.

“Yeah I got a plan to skate with the best in my new university. Gonna try to keep the family tradition of historians alive since clearly big bro ain’t up to it with all his conspiracy stuff. But that doesn't mean I gotta be a stick in the mud about it.”

Eventually, Adrien found a place in a corner, a good ways away from the rest of his friends. Some of them cast glances his way, but no one made a move to talk to him. What could they say anyway? ‘Sorry your dad was the magic terrorist that turned every single one of us into super villains at one point or another?’

And he certainly wasn’t about to approach them either. Not if they were going to be talking about the future. They all sounded so hopeful and excited, he didn’t want to bring them down with his uncertainty.

Having his entire life charted out in meticulous, color-coded detail, he wasn’t very confident in his own planning abilities. Even in his superhero career he was more often than not following someone else’s plan. What was he going to do with his life now, when even his superheroics weren’t necessary?

The party was still going on when Adrien sneaked out. He was sure nobody would miss him from there. No doubt the mood might even lighten once he was gone. Nino and Marinette would at least have a better time now that he wasn’t bringing everything down.

The only good thing he could say about his father now was that at least he’d actually paid Adrien for his modeling. Even if Adrien only recently got access to that bank account, it meant that he could afford a house to rent now that his childhood home was cinders.

Turning the lights on as he entered, he shuffled over to the television and hesitated. He used to like turning it on to have some background noise, but it was hard to escape the news about his family these days. Backing away from the TV, he opted instead to turn on a music playlist.

Adrien collapsed onto the couch, the weight of his loneliness bearing down on him now more than ever. Maybe he could have handled everything else, but on top of all of it, the defeat of Hawkmoth meant that Ladybug had basically gone off the grid. No akuma battles, no late night patrols.

His mind wandered - Where was Ladybug? What she was doing?

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

Long after the party had died down, Marinette went up to her room and pulled out a letter that she had hidden away months ago. It almost felt like another lifetime when she had sent out that application. She had sent it not because she had intended to go but because it was something she was expected to do.

Someone like her, with her hopes and dreams worn on her sleeve since she was twelve, didn’t just ‘forget’ to send out her university applications. It would’ve looked suspicious. So she sent the letters, knowing in her heart that she would never be able to leave Paris because walking away from it would mean leaving it defenseless.

But now the danger was gone. She didn’t need to protect her beloved city anymore.

Holding the acceptance letter to a semester long fashion internship in Milan, her heart pounded in excitement. After so long, she could finally start living her life again.

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

There weren’t a lot of people left in Adrien’s life.

He’d never been super close to most of his classmates, so that wasn’t a huge loss to him. But the retiring of most of the super hero team, plus Nino, Alya, and Marinette being super busy these days did cut deep.

But, as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop as Chat Noir, he reflected that at least he had Ladybug. Getting a call from her out of the blue was surprising, but he jumped at the chance to see her again after the maddening quiet of the last couple months.

A part of him was worried, however. Why did she want to see him? Ladybug didn’t do anything without good reason. And what good reasons were there left for them in a post-Hawkmoth world? Did she want his miraculous…? His hand brushed over his ring. No, she would never. She knew how much being Chat Noir meant to him. Besides, if she wanted to disband all of them, she would’ve taken his ring along with the other miraculous.

Heart pounding for more reasons than one, Chat Noir landed on their favorite meeting spot in one of the towers of Notre Dame. As he spots her iconic red and black outfit, he pushes aside his worries. Everything else aside, Ladybug was here - that alone was a huge load of his shoulders.

She turns around at the sound of his boots landing on the ground.

“Just the cat I was waiting on,” she said with a smile.

“I hope I didn’t keep such a beautiful woman waiting for long,” Chat replied, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it. “What’s up, bugaboo?”

“I’ll get right to the point, chaton.” Ladybug took a deep breath. “I’m going to be going away for a few months. I got an internship in Milan. I’ll be leaving next week.”

His heart dropped and he took both of her hands in his. Eyes locked onto their interlocked hands, he murmured, “Lovebug, I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it that long…”

She freed one hand to cup his chin, pushing it up until they were looking eye to eye. There was a soft but sad smile on her face.

“I know its a whole new world for us, and I’m sure its been rough for you. So I’ll make you a promise-”

“A purromise?” He punned half-heartedly.

“...sure, a purromise,” she replied. “The first time I see you after I get back, chaton, we'll blow this whole thing wide open.”

He frowned. She couldn’t mean…?

“We'll reveal our identities, I swear." To prove her sincerity, she held out her pinky.

“But… why can’t we do that now?”

"To give you something to look forward to, of course," she said with a smile. “So what do you say?”

Staring at her pinky for a long time, he eventually grabbed it with his own pinky. The promise had been made.

They chatted for a little while after that, but eventually Ladybug had to leave. People would notice she was missing if she was gone for too long.

Chat watched her leave, turning into a dot on the horizon. After all, who was going to notice, even if he was out for an hour more?

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

The days run by, lost in a blur of video games and books and other distractions that kept him in his room. There was no Nathalie to force him into his usual activities. No father to breathe down his neck. Just him slowly losing track of time as the days ticked past, unnoticed by Adrien. He didn’t even realize it was the day that Ladybug had said she was going to be leaving for Milan until his phone lit up for the first time in days.

It was Nino, of course. He was practically the only one calling him these days, except for the group chats that he was in. And even then, the last few calls had been a bit of a blur, running on autopilot like he was.

Adrien answers the phone. “Hey, bro, what’s up?”

“More like - what’s out? And the answer is me. I’m outside. Open the door, my bro.”

Nino hung up, leaving Adrien to blink in the darkness of his living room, illuminated only by the light of his paused game. Standing up, he rushed over to the door and opened it a crack. Sure enough, Nino was standing there.

“‘Sup dude?” He pushed open the door, letting the sunlight filter into Adrien’s house for the first time in days. Nino scrunched up his eyebrows in concern. “T-shirt and sweatpants this late in the day, my dude? You feelin’ alright?”

“Same as usual, I guess,” Adrien said with a shrug. “What’s the occasion?”

Nino let himself in and pulled open Adrien’s curtains. “Don’t really need one to hang with my best bro, do I?” He saw Adrien’s face. “Okay, okay, so I needed some time outta the house. Can you blame me? With everything going down with Marinette, I could use some space away from that bummer fest to take my mind off things.”

“Things going down with Marinette?” Adrien asked. Did something happen?

“Yeah man, Alya was a wreck last night. We helped Marinette pack up and honestly, watching those two say goodbye just about made me tear up." Nino tugged at his cap, getting ragged from the years.

Adrien takes a moment to shake off the gray stupor that's been hanging over him for months, that had been doubled because of Ladybug’s absence.

“Uh... what? Is Marinette going somewhere?” That is someone he should make more effort to keep in touch with, if he's being honest with himself. Maybe once she comes back from her vacation or whatever, they can get coffee.

"Dude, you never listen to anything I say anymore,” Nino said, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes disapprovingly. “I know it's tough with your dad and all, dude, but you've got to get out of your own head. Marinette's leaving."

"What? Leaving? Like, leaving leaving?"

"Might as well be, dude. She's getting on a plane this afternoon and not coming back for 6 months." Adrien got stuck by deja vu. Something about that time frame sounds familiar... "She wanted me to tell you she'll miss you while she's gone."

"I... can't believe I didn't say goodbye. Where is she going? Why is she going?" He’s more alert than he has been for months. He took a seat next to Nino, leaning forward a little as he hung on Nino’s words.

"A sweet fashion internship dude. Way over in Milan."

And it clicks. Internship. Milan. The whole semester. There’s no way… it can’t be a coincidence.

If Adrien is wrong, he doesn't lose anything. He'll see his lady and his friend when they both return. But if he's right - and he's got to be right! - then she's gone. She's gone and he won't get to say goodbye, to tell her that he loves her, that he's always loved her.

Nino's still chatting away in the background, "...and to be honest, I'm surprised she didn't come see you before she left. Alya said she wanted to clear the air about that massive crush she had on you in high school-"

"I'm sorry WHAT?" Adrien tries and fails to keep his voice level.

Nino raises his eyebrows. "Dude, I thought you knew by now.” He shakes his head. “Everybody knew."

That raises far too many questions for Adrien’s liking, but he is too focused to be sidetracked now. He leans into Nino’s space, clarity in his eyes for the first time in a long time, one question on his mind.

"When does her plane leave?"

"What? Like in, an hour or so, dude.” Nino’s eyes widened as he realizes what Adrien might be planning. “But there's no way-"

"-igottagoniceseeingyouninobye!"

Adrien throws on a pair of converse sneakers, tongues sticking out in his haste out the door, untied laces flying. Nino is shouting something behind him, but Adrien doesn’t have the time to listen. Once he was out of his friend’s line of sight, he transformed and ran. He runs faster than he ever had in his entire life, his rooftop blurring under his feet as they carried him across the city.

He can't believe it took all this for him to figure it out. At this point, he doesn't care that she might reject him. The only thing that matters is that he has to know for sure. Nothing was more important to him in this moment than to look in those bluebell eyes and tell her he's figured it out. Figured her out.

He can't have her disappear for six months and forget about him. About what they could be.

Getting to the airport took longer than expected. Getting across the whole of Paris wasn’t easy, but he did it. Even if he had to stop way outside his destination to detransform. Nothing was about to stop him. Not even his own body, wheezing and protesting the sudden activity after a summer of slacking could slow him down. There was something more powerful than muscle and sinew at work here.

The airport was busy and Adrien froze at the front door, catching more than a few odd looks from people. He didn’t have any time to spare for them, however. His eyes, his heart, were too busy frantically searching the crowd for just the barest sign of her. Despair that he was too late had begun to lace its tendrils around his heart when the crowd parted for a split second.

He saw her.

Not just Marinette, in a cute floral summer dress, hair tied back and lugging her bags behind her.

No. In that half of a moment, he saw Ladybug and Marinette as one. The strength behind her eyes, the determined squaring of her shoulders even though he knew she was scared. If he had any doubts before, they were gone like mist before the sun. He was only barely aware of himself bolting towards her, parting the crowd in front of him to a tune of a host of disgruntled French travelers.

His hand snags her wrist just before she reaches the security checkpoint. She turns, part of surprise, part out of curiosity. Her eyes widen when she sees him, but he doesn’t have the chance to savor it. He’s already pulled her into a hug, pouring all the love he’s bottled up inside himself into it.

Hand cradling her head, his mouth close to her ear, he can barely manage to pant out a few words, the exhaustion of pressing himself so hard so fast finally catching up with him.

"M'lady.... princess....found you..."

In a voice so quiet only his senses, made keen by years of using the black cat miraculous, can make out, she whispered, “...Chaton?”

He grins, gasping, and nods. Her eyes tear up and she hugs him back twice as hard. "How did you know?"

"Internship in Milan. Had to say goodbye. Had to tell you...Mari, I love you."

She's stunned for a moment, and pulls back to look him in the face. Matching her gaze, he feels himself falling inescapably into those bright blue eyes. He never thought he could fall even more in love, but today seemed to be the day for revelations. The moment broke only when she rolled forward on her tiptoes, placed her arms around his neck for leverage, and pressed her lips to his.

Time began again when a booming voice called out a flight number overhead. Marinette, kiss-drunk, pulled back and bit her lip, making Adrien’s heart do a backflip.

“That’s mine.” She pouts, then brightens and smirks, "You know, I hear Milan is lovely this time of year. You should come visit me sometime, Mr. Moneybags."

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

Two months later

Adrien rose with the sun, one of the few habits from his teenage years he’d never managed to shake off. Marinette was a few rooms over, taking the guest bedroom of his Italian villa while they lived in Milan. He started to make breakfast.

It wasn’t a miraculous cure - their relationship, her being here with him. His life was still in shambles. There were moments where he couldn’t be strong. He still felt lost most of the time.

But she was a constant. He could build a life around her - together. She was there when he needed to be weak. And her steady determination that he’d find his way was more often than not enough to ground him.

He put his breakfast on a plate and left Marinette’s on the kitchen counter, knowing the smell would do more to coax her out of bed than any amount of knocking or reminders. In the meantime, he pulled out his laptop to get a head start on his online class work for the day. It was just general requirements, but it gave him time to test the waters, see what he liked and what he didn’t.

No matter what, though, he knew she was going to be there every step of the way, cheering him on just like he knew he would be right there for her. A perfect team, just like they’d always been.

Yesterday was rough. Today would be better. And tomorrow? Adrien smiled as he heard Marinette's morning grumblings down the hall. Tomorrow shone bright with possibilities for both of them.

[ichorizaki]

02. just one glance

warnings    obscene language, child abuse

word count    3.8k

It was one of those rare days that Tadāo felt weirdly generous. When you woke up, he was still asleep in his half of the bed. When you were making breakfast, he was still in bed. When you were done and waking Tarō up, he was awake and trudged to the kitchen with a somewhat fresh face. Your son was walking on eggshells as he crept to the breakfast table, eyes watching his father carefully like the façade could drop any second. It was a Monday, so that meant that Tadāo was bound to be back in the office, which was why it was a surprise to everyone at the table when he asked what time Tarõ’s daycare ended. You fought back the urge to bite back, to reprimand him that he should know as his father, so you gave him a practiced smile instead.

“He usually ends at noon sharp,” you looked at your husband, trying to look out for even the slightest twitch on his face that told you he was just asking out of curiosity and nothing more. “Why do you ask?”

“I just wanted to take him out for a couple of hours and spend time with him, is that so wrong?” There was an edge in the tone of his words, sharp and jagged to shield what may be the guilt of being absent in Tarō’s life catching up to him. You almost couldn’t believe it. Your eyes quickly flit to your son who was already staring nervously back at you from his seat next to his father. You felt the weight of your heart sinking down to your stomach. His earthy eyes that were once filled with the flames of mirth and mischief were now dampened with trepidation. “What, I can’t take my son out to spend time with him?”

Tadāo’s voice snapped your focus back to the table as a whole. Of course there was nothing wrong, you just didn’t trust him around your son without you around. He called for your attention once more but the way his twisted words somehow sounded like you and Tarō should be thankful that he even suggested it at all.

“Tarō, is that okay with you?” Stuck at a crossroads, you asked your son what he thought about it. You knew he wouldn’t be okay with it—why would he be?—but he and you had a system to protect each other when the other isn’t around. He despises his father with a burning passion but you couldn’t exactly fault him. His brows furrowed, very clearly against the idea of being alone with your husband.

“Give your mother a break. Lord knows she needs it. Right, Y/N?” Tadāo’s eyes found their way to yours and you swallowed thickly. What the hell were you even supposed to say? “Right?”

“Yes,” you quickly responded, your heart tripping over its own feet.

That was how you found yourself sitting in the exact same mall Tadāo had brought your son to with your two best friends by your side. The three of you were cosied up in a 4-star Michelin restaurant for afternoon tea and a lunch buffet. You were supposed to be relaxing but it stressed you out when you tried to. The table was empty, with you occupying one seat as the other three were temporarily homing personal purses and shopping bags.

Mai and Kame had gone ahead to grab some drinks and light starters. Your phone screen was facing you, placed by your plate where you could easily reach it in case Tarō called you. You didn’t even notice that the both of your friends had returned until you realised that you had a strawberry cheesecake parfait set on your plate. Your e/c eyes slowly drifted up to meet Kame’s piercing gaze. Behind the icy grey you knew she meant well, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she sat down across you.

“We know you’re worried for Tarō, Y/N.” Mai’s voice was gentle and soothing as she took your hand in hers. She cupped them both and your eyes trailed from your hands to her face, where a smile akin to a spring flower greeted you. “We can’t do much, but we’re in the same mall as they are, which means if Tarō ever needs help, we’re all here able to rush to him immediately.”

“She’s right,” Kame chimed in. She had already started eating her gyōza and chawanmushi with shrimp. “Plus, did you forget that I’m a taekwondo teacher or something? I can knock your bitch of a husband out, just say when.” While her intentions were nothing but pure, her violent comment did not go unnoticed by the table of pompous middle-aged women behind her.

“Kame, we’re in public!” Mai took the opportunity to kick her in the shin underneath the table upon releasing your hands. The auburn-haired woman scowled childishly and you couldn’t help but smile. Even when you’re all so different, your personalities complement each other well. They were right—there’s nothing much you could do. If you wanted to worry, you could, but you were just putting yourself in a state of pure unbridled worrying. The three of you were finally meeting up after three weeks, with Mia being busy with grad studies and Kame with running her classes.

So you tried your best to ignore the unsettling sensation brewing in the pit of your stomach like a hexing potion. You paid attention to the food, to the conversation, to the atmosphere, and soon you found yourself relaxing. The tension in your shoulders disappeared as you laughed for the nth time that afternoon. The three of you were reminiscing about your college days, making jokes, recalling old classmates and even joking about said classmates. While it had been hell for you as a public relations and business major, the experiences outside of classes made it worthwhile.

Then your mind couldn’t help but wander to Futakuchi Kenji and the incident that happened sometime last week. Your relationship with him extended a little further than just in-laws. He was a business major attending the same university both you and your husband did. Thanks to that, most of your classes happened to overlap and you just happened to be around him a lot. You nearly fainted on the day you found out that they were cousins—they were nothing alike, until you realised how similar they were in terms of their appearances.

Being classmates with Futakuchi was by no means a walk in the park. For some reason, during discourse sessions, it always ended up the both of you being at each other’s throats. Actually, it wasn’t just discourse sessions. If there was no discourse session, he would create one. Discussion panels would turn into debates and the both of you would end up being the last ones standing, too stubborn to stand down until it was just a battle of wits and personal attacks. Oh, how he loves attacking Tadāo. 

“Your strategy is great, but what happens if the media suddenly turns it into something else completely? You know how they can get when they want something newsworthy. They’ll try to shove words down your throat like that crummy boyfriend of yours.” You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes. Of course Futakuchi Kenji had brought up his cousin. You were beginning to wonder whether he had forgotten about him altogether.

The scoffs, snickers, and snide comments made by your classmates fell on deaf ears. While they were used to it and obviously desensitised, it got annoying when Futakuchi drags out the lesson even by just a minute.

“First of all, thank you for acknowledging my strategy’s worth. Second of all, you’re making up situations entirely based off of biases about the media. You know damn well the journalists in our uni are trained to be professional specialists. Lastly, that’s my fiancé, you sick son of a bitch.”

You couldn’t help but miss those classes. As much as he slandered your husband, he was actually a decent person. He helped out when you struggled, offered you notes, and he always arrived in class early with your favourite drink. The both of you were close, but at the same time barely knew anything about each other. Kame had mentioned something about one of the parties that all three of you went to and had to go streaking but managed to weasel her way out of it, which made your whole table erupt with laughter. However, your happiness was cut short by a loud ringing from your phone.

The caller ID on your phone was enough to send your heart racing against your chest. Tarō would never call you for no reason. The phone that you gave him—a model a whole decade older than he—was for emergency purposes and that only. Your thumb swiped the green icon across the screen and the second you put your phone to your ear, you could hear his laboured breaths.

“K-Kāsan,” his voice came out in choked sobs. “Tōsan is . . he tried to hit me. Please- Please come get me, Okāsan.”

“Where are you, baby?”

“Kiddy Palace in the mall nearby. Please hurry–” The last that you heard before an empty line were angry shouts in the distance. By the end of it, you had already gathered your items and you noticed that so had Mai and Kame, the latter digging into her purse for her wallet as she marched over to the counter to cover the payment.

“Where’s Tarō?” Mai asked, taking your hand in hers.

“Kiddy Palace. That’s the fourth level, right?” She gave you a nod of confirmation and that was all that it took for the both of you to speed out of the restaurant. Kame managed to catch up when you found the lift lobby. The adrenaline coursed through your system like a wave of flood; you could barely keep up with the way your brain was going off on tangents and trying to focus on the steps ahead of you. The worst had come true, and you didn’t want to think that it was just your brain blowing out of proportion.

Kame’s hand was on your back, rubbing soothing circles while Mai held onto your other hand. They were telling you that everything was going to be alright, that Kame was beyond capable of putting your husband back in line. They were trying their best to ease your worries but it could only do so much.

The second the doors began to slide open, you had to squirm past and your feet began to carry you to Kiddy Palace. Blood thumped in your ears, the fear sitting on your face like a pillow suffocating. It didn’t take you long to find Tarō, huddled among plush toys similar to a fortress. The second he saw you, he flung himself over to you, throwing himself in your arms. He was babbling and sobbing; you could barely make out any coherent words when you hoisted him up, holding him close against your body.

“You fucking dog!”

“Kenji, don’t get in between my and my son.”

You froze. Kenji? Futakuchi Kenji? Mai had appeared at your side, her gentle words and cooing to calm Tarō down. She offered to carry him so that “Okāsan’s going to fight Otōsan.” He had no problem shifting from you to her before you ran up to where Kame was, separating the two men from biting off each others’ throats. She stood right in front of him, looking him in the eye and ready to shove him back should he step out of line.

You didn’t even know where to go. To Kenji, or to your husband? Between the both of them, it was your husband who looked more beaten up. Kenji looked spotless while your husband suffered a busted lip and a bruised eye. What were you even going to say to your husband?

“What the fuck are you staring at me for?” You flinched at the harsh words. Mumbles and murmurs came from the onlooking crowd who were unsure on what to do or were too afraid to step in. “Come and help me, you useless bitch.” No sooner had the last syllable left his lips had Kame and Keiji both flung themselves at him, profanities running a mile a minute. Within the blink of an eye, Tadāo was tackled to the ground with both your best friend and his cousin on him.

It took you a heartbeat to realise what was happening. Your head was spinning, your body lurching forward until you were begging for Kame and Kenji both to get off of him. Your pleas and cries finally got through to the two. Weakly, you pulled them off of Tadāo’s body. You couldn’t even bear to look at your husband. With this many people watching– shit. You’ve caused a ruckus in the middle of a mall. 

You spun on the heel of your feet and began to bow at a ninety-degree angle in all directions where there was a visible crowd, voicing out your apologies with a tremble in your voice and a shaking heart. Then, you turned to your husband with tears in your eyes and the choke of a sob in your throat. Your heart hammered threateningly against your chest, watching him carefully as he got onto his two feet.

“Don’t come home tonight.”

“Who the fu–”

“You wanna get fucking beaten up, you punk?!” Kame stomped a foot forward and that was enough to make him flinch the slightest. She grabbed Kenji by his arm and you by your hand, leading you away from the scene. You didn’t know why she dragged him, but it would be nice to know what had gone down and why he was even in the mall in the first place. Mai joined you three with a sniffling Tarō whose cheeks were wet with tears. She suggested that you headed out of the mall and to the McDonald’s across the street for some ice cream to cheer everyone up and everyone unanimously agreed.

So there you sat on a public bench, balancing Tarō on your thighs with a handheld fan in his direction while he happily ate his vanilla ice cream. Mai and Kame sat on either side of you, the former enjoying the seasonal yuzu ice cream and Kame a chocolate cone. Kenji sat quietly next to Mai, the only other person he’s familiar with having known each other since they were in high school.

You learned that Tadāo had been rather passive aggressive in his behaviour towards your son. He was impatient to Tarō’s needs and completely forgot—he probably never even knew about it in the first place—about Tarō’s love for wearing dresses and tiaras. He called his son a slur that is now ingrained in the poor child’s brain for the rest of his natural life and threatened to hit him over and over when Tarō was overwhelmed and threw a tantrum. Tadāo would have struck your child if it hadn’t been for Kenji who happened to be nearby. To your dismay, a fight broke out between them right before you turned up.

Perhaps it was time for you to pull up your socks and talk to Tadāo about his behaviour. Guilt found its way around your heart, wrapping its thick tendrils around it and squeezing it tightly like it was trying to milk an apology out of you. But who was that apology for? You? Or was it for your husband? It should go to Tarō, right? Thoughts raced through your mind, fogging up your vision and before you knew it, your mind was but an incoherent blur of emotions and thoughts.

“Uh, I think I’ll take my leave first.” Turning to your left, Kenji was getting up from his spot next to Mai. “Take care, okay? You need to do something about him.” His warm eyes then landed on Tarō and you couldn’t help but notice a certain glint of curiosity in them. Your son squirmed uncomfortably in your laps. You knew how he got around any adult male but it was a surprise altogether to see him hiss at Kenji.

“Oya, I didn’t know my favourite boy was a cat!” Mai immediately stole his attention. Tarō lets out a tiny humph, nose upturned before his lower lip jutted out into a pout. The five-year-old frowned at Mai, who teased him as she picked him up to settle him next to her. “You’re a big boy now and you still wanna sit on your mommy’s lap?”

“I’m gonna sit on Okāsan’s laps even when I’m bigger!”

“Even when she’s old and wrinkly like a grandma?” Tarō was left speechless as his baby browns darted between you and Mai who was laughing her ass off. You rolled your eyes, smacking her in the back of her head before getting up to talk to Kenji.

He had his hands in his pockets, kicking at the rocks that found their way from the asphalt and it reminded you of a small child feeling sheepish. You noticed how his muscles flexed and relaxed underneath the fabric of his fitted black shirt before noticing how he was so casually dressed for a Monday afternoon. Was he unemployed? Or maybe retired, even? You knew he owned his company and he’s earning himself an empire of gold but you didn’t know just how much gold he had in his tavern.

“Kenji,” you called out cautiously, staying a safe distance from him. He turned around, eyebrows raised in surprise. Did he not expect you to approach him? “Thank you for saving Tarō. Lord knows what would’ve happened without you there.” He didn’t make any move to close the distance between the both of you. The corners of his lips twitched upwards into a lazy smile.

“Guess it’s gotta be pure luck for you, huh?” You scoffed at that. Or at least, tried. You were relieved and you weren’t going to lie about that. You would thank him in some other way, a gift maybe, but you knew your husband would blow it out of proportion and that would be a whole other issue altogether.

“Luck, fate, whatever it is, I’m just glad that you were there, okay? I know what kind of person Tadāo is and what kind of person he can be. The last thing I’d ever let him do is lay his hand on my son.” He must have heard how earnest you were because when he took a deep breath, you saw how his features softened as he looked back into your (e/c) eyes. You didn’t know if he was searching for the right words to say, a delicate response to express that he didn’t mind at all, until you noticed a sleek black car pull up by the curbside. What was it with him being interrupted all the time?

“You know I’d do anything to make sure that that bastard’s out of your life. Hell, that’s probably the only agenda in my book right now,” he chuckled. Kenji lifted his hand to give you a gentle pat on your head. “I’ll get going now. You know I’m just a phone call away.”

You watched as he turned his back on you, waiting patiently as the car door slid open automatically to reveal an all-black leather interior. He ducked his head and entered the vehicle but not before giving you one last wave goodbye, the door sliding over and securing him safely in the car.

That was the longest interaction that he had with you yet ever since he had gotten home from Yokohama. Kenji leaned back in his seat, head rocking back against the headrest. He closed his eyes and the picture of Tarō formed in his head. There was just . . . there was just something about that kid that unsettled him. It was probably the way that he suddenly hissed when he was trying to find the courage to ask if he was okay. The kid didn’t really look like you.

Oh, you. All these years and he thought you’d have left the sick bastard of a human being that he had as a cousin that you have as a husband. Yet again he was proven wrong with the silver band on your ring finger. What bothered him was the lack of a ring on Tadāo’s ring finger.

The entire ride home, his mind was plagued with thoughts of you and Tarō. The dynamic that you both had made him miss his own mother. You were so caring, so gentle and so soft but in that kindness of you was a strength hardened by all of the shit that Tadāo had forced you into. You didn’t let your hardships define you, and that was something that he’s always admired you for.

Kenji fiddled with his phone as he alighted the car, thanking the driver as he made his leave. Maybe he should call his mother. But he already called her two days ago. He knew that she would tease him to no end should he call her any sooner. He only called once a week, but even then, his mother is usually the one calling in a mere day after he had done so.

His butler greeted him as he entered the threshold of his large and lonely household, a friendly greeting returned along with a smile. He immediately found himself headed into the direction of his library, where not only had he stashed archives of literature works but also archives of his own past. He wasn’t one to keep photo albums in his room, choosing to keep them safely and neatly tucked away in the library with the other books that he had. 

Nostalgia in waves as he settled down in his chair, opening up the album to be greeted with his baby pictures. His phone was set on the table before him, the line ringing on speaker as he waited for his mother to pick up. He flipped through the pages slowly, a fond smile on his face as he watched himself grow. He was such an adorable baby. Cheeks red, full and always stuffed with rice or some of his favourite candy.

Then, he came across a picture that struck a chord through his chest. He couldn’t have been any older than seven years old in the picture, perhaps six. He was at the beach, sporting a gigantic toothy grin. His hair was wet and stuck to his skin, yellow goggles hanging loosely around his neck and the bulge of his tummy ever so visible through the navy blue of the swimming suit he was wearing. He would have been mistaken to be extremely elated to be at the beach if it weren’t for how red his eyes were. Wait a minute . . . this looked all too familiar. Where had he seen this before; this very expression of a young boy grinning with tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes? Ah. Then it had hit him.

Masayūki Tarō looks exactly like him when he was younger.

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[heathers-wig]

come & find me - heathney hanahaki au part one

synopsis:

“Who’re the flowers for?” Eva interjects.

The question dances around in Heather’s head and leaks out of the others’ imploring glances, but Heather finds herself faltering as she struggles to answer.

“I don’t…” Heather frowns, thinking of the flowers welling up in her lungs that she’s sure will snuff out her life. Her frown melts into a scowl when she thinks of whoever her enamored was, and how they doubled as her soon-to-be inevitable murderer, along with how she didn’t even get the privilege to know their identity. “I don’t know.”

❁

Or: Heather contracts the Hanahaki Disease. Other than the fact that she’s quite literally slowly but surely dying due to flowers rooted to her lungs, she has a problem; she doesn’t know who exactly her unrequited love is for, or how to prevent the disease from worsening. Can she figure out who her “beloved” is and snuff out the floral illness before it claims her for once and for all?

pairings: heathney (heather x courtney), BG gweoff (gwen x geoff), BG izva (izzy x eva)

word count: 15,226

warnings: suicidal thoughts implications + descriptions of coughing/vomiting

A/N: there are two endings, happy and sad! feel free to choose which you deem as the true ending :) thank you for reading!

READ IT ON AO3 HERE!

i. daffodils & gardenias; unrequited and secret love

It starts with a petal. Well, if Heather were to be honest, it had started far beyond the first initial petal, but all the pieces fell into place when the very first petal fluttered from her lips.

Her science teacher was going on and on about the instructions for their next lab — something about carefully dissecting a pufferfish that had long since died, but Heather paid no mind to it.

Instead, she observes.

One of her favorite things to do was observe those around her. It was like dissecting them, similar to how her science teacher was now demonstrating on one of the pufferfish, and their internal thoughts and behaviors. Who they unconsciously drifted to, who they repelled and fought with — or, to be more precise, where the weak links in her class were located. With this frequent and diligent studying, she knew exactly how to break certain students and their allegedly tight-knit friend groups.

Take Bridgette, Geoff, and Alejandro, for instance; all Heather had done was slightly insinuate to the gullible, blonde girl that Alejandro liked her, and she was putty in her hands. Of course, Heather noticed Bridgette stare and stare at Alejandro nearly around the clock, but Geoff, Bridgette's actual boyfriend, hadn’t. She did him a favor, really — all it took was her to mastermind him walking in on Bridgette and Alejandro during a Halloween party, and Heather was satisfied.

Currently, Geoff and Bridgette were sitting awkwardly and stiffly next to one another — a huge mistake on their parts, in Heather’s opinion, to choose to sit next to one another after only beginning to date during the summer, but Heather had never had the patience for high school romances. Bridgette had tried to slide apology notes to Geoff’s direction, but for once, his eyes were glued to the board and the notes went unnoticed.

Heather noticed them, though, and she had to stifle a laugh.

The rest of the class is more or less the same. Some were pointedly looking away from the experiment their teacher was performing, and some were sketching in their notebooks, like Gwen.

There had to be three people genuinely paying attention — Geoff, for obvious reasons, Beth, because she currently had a B in the course and thought it was the end of her small-minded world, and Courtney, because she was, well, Courtney.

It’s when Heather’s eyes stay on Courtney’s head of hair that didn’t have a single strand out of place that it happens.

A scratch in the back of her throat digs into her, but Heather swallows it down instead of clearing her throat. If she did it too loudly over something so mediocre and unimportant, her classmates would just assume she was trying to stir something seeing as how it was the end of the last period of the day and, while Heather loved the occasional entertainment at the spite of her peers, she wasn’t in the mood that day.

And so, Heather waits and makes stray sketches in her notebook — repeatedly writing her name in cursive, drawing hideous illustrations of her peers, anything to pass the time until the bell rings. When the bell finally sounded off, punctuating the end of the day, students unceremoniously gathered their lump of notebooks and textbooks and scoop them in their arms, leaving the classroom in a cluttered, chatty, and hurried mess.

The first one out the door is Geoff, followed by Bridgette on his heels, Heather notes, but she can’t bring herself to follow and eavesdrop and what would possibly be one of the most interesting breakups Wawanakwa High had seen since Courtney and Duncan’s infamous split. She’d probably overhear the details of the split from somebody else, anyway.

The devil seemed to have spawned at the initial thought, as a prickly voice accompanied with a light tap on Heather’s shoulder made with the eraser end of a pencil is what tears Heather’s eyes away from the door. She has half the mind to berate whoever it was for pestering her at the end of the day, but falters when her eyes meet the other’s.

Courtney’s narrowed dark brown eyes are unamused. When Heather rises from her seat, Courtney tilts her head up to meet her gaze — Heather was taller than Courtney, even with the pair of wedges the brunette had on that day.

“I expect you were paying attention,” Courtney’s tone is sickeningly sweet and mocking, the specific one she uses around people she thinks are below her in terms of intelligence, or just in general. She has seen Courtney use it around the young kids she tutors, Duncan, jocks, Heather herself, and practically any student in their school who has managed to sour her mood, which was mostly everyone. “We are partnered for the lab, after all —”

“We are?” Heather questions dryly. She had expected Courtney to pick up on her sarcasm — Courtney had made it her job to scribble Lab with Courtney on every available space in her planner on the days leading up to the experiment, after all — but judging by the brunette’s eyes narrowing further, she either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care.

“Yes,” She hisses through clenched teeth, before frowning. “Whatever, I actually paid attention —”

“And I thank you for your service,” Heather remarks just as dryly as before, sauntering out the door.

“Wha — hey, where are you going?”

Heather snorted softly. “Come and find me,” she chastised sardonically. She had figured the answer to be obvious, but Courtney never failed to surprise her in one way or another.

Courtney scoffs and follows her, falling into place next to Heather. She fixed the headband on her head that matched her clothes as she rolled her eyes so far back Heather couldn’t help but wonder if they saw the back of her head.

“Haha, very funny,” The brunette doesn’t laugh, which makes Heather crack a smile in satisfaction. Winning with Courtney was always exhilarating and thrilling. “See you tomorrow, Heather,”

Heather hummed, waving a lazy and half-hearted hand over her shoulder, already bolting in the direction of the student parking lot. “See you,”

When Heather is finally in the solitude of her sleek, black car — her parents wasted no expense when it came to spoiling her, despite neither being the affectionate or loving type — the thing building up in the back of her throat is finally released into the palm of her hand, and all Heather can do is stare at it.

She’s coughed up bile and phlegm before, and she’s heard of blood being coughed up as well, but the tiny, dainty and crumpled thing laying in her hands was unheard of and felt unreal as it rested in her palms. She was suddenly aware of how dry her hands were as she felt the thinness of the soaked object, given that it had been resting in her throat.

Rifling it in her hands, Heather scoffs when she realizes just how ridiculous it was to believe she had just coughed up a flower in the school parking lot. However, she blinks harshly and firmly, and when she opens her eyes, the yellow petal is still there.

A foreign feeling of confusion and uneasiness settles over her like a blanket, but she instead scoffs once more and crumpled the petal, wrapping a tissue around it to keep it from dirtying her leather seats, and rolls out of the parking lot, avoiding any acknowledgment of the flower petal she’s convinced she imagined coughing up.

(On the ride home, she coughs up two more additional petals, too — one white and curved to perfection, looking much too angelic and innocent for having just been lodged up in her throat just moments prior, and the other the same shade of yellow as the first. Heather ignores both, and tosses them out the window to sink further in denial, similar to how she felt her stomach sink as she watched the petals flutter aimlessly to the ground, destined to be run over or stepped on.)

❀

That night, after finishing both her math homework and leftovers for dinner, Heather switched off the lights and settled into her bed before impulsively flicking open her laptop. It was for school purposes, her parents insisted, and was to never be used at night when she should be asleep, but quite frankly, Heather hadn’t cared much for her parents’ opinion of her considering their clear distaste for her.

Her fingers mindlessly fly across the keyboard, the same feeling of dread from when she was stunned upon the initial discovery of the petals resurfacing.

why am i coughing up weird shit

Healthline - Signs of Lung Illness

If any of the following symptoms apply to you, be sure to contact your health agent and schedule an appointment to discuss your symptoms and possible diagnosis. If you experience a burning, aching, or squeezing sensation in your chest, illnesses such as Lung Cancer, Pleuritis, etc. may be at play.

why am i coughing up petals and how do i stop it

Derrit - r/AskDerrit, in an old manga I read today, the Hanahaki disease was a plotline. Is it real? I can’t find any research indicating an answer.

BlaineleysBitch: no. the entire premise of the disease doesn’t even make sense. it’s not real.

Mr.CocoNutty: tbfh i haven’t heard anything about it? i’m sure if it were real there would be some coverage abt it considering how unbelievable it sounds

KittyKat16: yea, i don’t think it’s real, but it would be really cool if it was!!

what’s the hanahaki disease

Wikiresource - List of fictional diseases

Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 (Japanese); 하나하키병 (Korean); 花吐病 (Chinese)) is a fictional disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated. The flowers in particular symbolize the specific love and relationship the patient has for the enamored, as told through flower language. Hanahaki can be cured through the confession of the victim's feelings. The response of the enamored is unimportant. The victim may also develop Hanahaki Disease if they believe the love to be one-sided but once the enamored returns the feelings, they will be cured.

how to get rid of hanahaki disease without having to confess shit

Making sure to groan inaudibly — her parents were under the impression she was asleep, after all — Heather pressed her finger down on the backspace key with a familiar scowl on her face, her finger remaining in place atop the key long after the words had been removed. The feeling of resentment and annoyance was familiar, but the overwhelming confusion and petals she felt building up in her throat were not.

Sighing, Heather rubbed her eyes gently yet urgently. Mindlessly, she resorted back to her idle habit: observing.

Assuming she had the disease that was supposed to be fictional, somebody had swooped Heather off of her heeled feet without her even realizing it. That had to be impossible, as Heather wasn’t dense enough to not realize something as obvious as feelings for another. After all, she read people and their infatuation with others as easily as one read magazines — who was to say she couldn’t do the same for herself?

Recalling the wiki page, Heather sighed as she began to re-type. The article had said that the flowers she had coughed up symbolized her love for whoever her crush was in flower language, and seeing as how it was her only lead on whoever her supposed enamored was, Heather wanted to crack down who it was exactly and quickly exterminate any and all contact with them to execute any possible feelings.

how do you identify a flower

PlantCapture - What Flower Is This? How to Instantly Identify Flowers

If you already have a photo of a flower saved on your phone, you can also instantly identify it by uploading the photo to PlantCapture. Once you've instantly identified a flower, PlantCapture stores it in your library. You can easily go back to see how many flowers you've identified.

Heather whipped out her phone with another sigh as she begrudgingly began downloading the app. Watching the small icon load, she scowled even deeper. Even the smallest inconvenience in the entire situation was enough to dampen her mood even further, despite the fact her own alleged feelings brought this on herself.

Remembering she had tossed out her only petals, Heather just barely resisted another groan before a familiar scratchiness formed at the back of her throat. Being sure to cough quietly, Heather slipped the petal out of her mouth as she winced at the taste of copper rolling down her tongue. The article hadn’t mentioned anything about blood, Heather bitterly notes, before shaking her head at her own stupidity. Of course there wasn’t a full list of symptoms for a disease that was believed to be fictional.

Switching flash on, Heather got the results of her flowers instantaneously as promised: the yellow and white flowers she had been hacking up all day were daffodils and gardenias, respectively.

Heather’s fingers flew to her keyboard once more automatically. With bated breath, she hoped that the results would be specific enough that she could put an end to the investigation that night and stomp out whatever ties she had with her “enamored”.

But, as noted from Heather’s luck that day, things rarely went her way.

what do daffodils mean

FlowerDictionary - Flower Meanings: Flowers A-K

Daffodil symbolizes regard and chivalry. It is indicative of rebirth, new beginnings and eternal life. It also symbolizes unrequited love.

what do gardenias mean

Flower Dictionary - Flower Meanings: Flowers A-K

The gardenia is a flower that symbolizes purity and gentleness. However, this symbolism often depends on the color of the gardenia. ... Another symbol of the gardenia is secret love between two people and also joy.

Upon quickly searching them up, the results did little to ease the dread pooling in her. The test was definitely correct, as it seemed, but was entirely unhelpful when it came to figuring out the identity of whoever it was that Heather had unknowingly developed an unreturned love for.

Slamming her laptop closed — a bit too loud for her liking, but beats pass and she doesn’t hear the annoying patter of her mother’s footsteps reach her room, so she assumes she’s in the clear — Heather grunts one final time, unceremoniously moving her laptop back on her desk. Raising the petal to her line of vision, Heather has to squint to make out some of the details. This one was white, identifiable even in the dark. It was a bit crumpled from having been clutched so tightly, and still wet from her own coppery blood.

A gardenia, Heather recalls with another scowl that was deeper and more ferocious than the last were. Meant to symbolize a “secret love”... so much for a clue.

She wonders, her last coherent thought before succumbing to sleep, how big of a secret her love must be for it to have left Heather herself in the dark on who her loved one was.

At the thought, Heather wrapped her blankets tighter around herself, lulling herself to an uneasy sleep of blood, thorns, beautiful but deadly flowers, and a figure in the distance who looks so comforting and familiar whose name is on the tip of Heather’s tongue, but can’t be reached.

❀

ii. amaryllises & white chrysanthemums; pride & loyalty

Despite Heather’s praying to a God she didn’t believe in, the flowers didn’t disappear overnight. Instead, they bloomed rapidly in her lungs, and at times when she felt the familiar tickle in the back of her throat, flowers in full-bloom were coughed up.

They would be beautiful, if not for her own blood staining them, a grim reminder of what would become of her if she did not find a fix, and soon.

Still, Heather was nothing if not quick on her feet. She managed to keep her illness under the wraps — of course, her second in command was Lindsay, so it wasn’t difficult to conceal her bloody bundles of flowers as just “feeling under the weather”; any other person would be suspicious of the foreign scratchiness and hoarseness her voice now had, the way she would breathe shakily as if her lungs were rattling and about to give out, or the way she barely restrained the flowers from being coughed up after a gym class, but since it’s Lindsay, Heather can get away with her lie.

When Lindsay sweetly wishes for her to feel better, even dropping off a bowl of badly homemade chicken noodle soup, Heather couldn’t help but scoff as she shook her head at the feeling of guilt lingering in the back of her head, and the feeling of bloody flowers in the back of her throat.

❀

With every fistful of the flowers beginning to stain her clothes, Heather took responsibility for her own laundry, for the first time in her life. Her parents put on a spectacle of overexaggerated joy and relief when she announced it, saying that, oh, thank goodness their darling was beginning to take responsibility instead of pooching off of them; Heather had just forcefully smiled and nodded, as she always did now, and excused herself to hurriedly put in the first load.

Her clothes were stained red in her own blood. Some petals began to stick onto her clothes, as well, and the last thing Heather wanted was the intrusion of her parents and their nosiness as she deciphered just who she was coughing flowers for.

Interestingly, the flowers she was now coughing up were different. Amaryllises and chrysanthemums, as she had identified — the red flower was the former of the two and symbolized pride. The white chrysanthemums, wide with many intricate petals, symbolized loyalty and the truth. Thankfully, they were more of a clue than the daffodils and gardenias with their meanings of unrequited and secret love.

That still didn’t mean that Heather had any clue of who they were for, though — she just knew that they had to be high-maintenance, and part of her refused to believe she would unconsciously fall for someone who had to be so pretentious, but seeing as how the thought sent her into another bout of coughing sloppily disguised, it had to have been the truth.

Heather was beginning to hate the sensation that arose when she felt a coughing spur coming on. She hated how she could feel a crumpled lump form in the back of her throat, squirming its way up her throat and nearly out her mouth. It feels hot, sticky, and suffocating, and when the flowers come up, Heather hates them too, and especially whoever her beloved is. However, the disease doesn’t cease even just a little, and so Heather finds herself heaving, coughing, and puking chrysanthemums and amaryllises in the middle of the night as she ponders on who it is she’s supposed to be loving.

Still, she manages to keep herself from hacking during class in front of her peers, and that’s all that matters to her, even when the flowers she chokes on splinter into her like thorns in her side.

❀

It’s here that Heather messes up. Well, to be fair, she messed up as soon as she began feeling things for whoever it was that had captured her sight unknowingly, in Heather’s opinion, but that was irrefutable and couldn’t be helped.

This, however, could have been helped.

Like many things, it started at school. Like the first petal that had been coughed up weeks ago, it started during science class, when she felt the feeling of hot bile, blood, and petals rising in her throat as Courtney bent over their lab report. She didn’t notice Heather’s discomfort, as her eyes were fixed on the report, her brows scrunched together in concentration.

At least, that’s what Heather thought, until Courtney suddenly looked up from the report and eyed her curiously. “Are you feeling alright?”

Heather barely contained her surprise at the sudden inquiry. The only person to ask that was Lindsay, not even her own parents, let alone her (unofficial) rival and (official) lab partner.

Upon seeing her confusion — had she done that bad at a job of hiding it? — Courtney sighed and looked back to their work. “To be honest, you’re quieter than normal and you look kind of sick — you look like you’re going to pass out at any time now.”

“Thanks,” Heather mutters coarsely, finding her voice. Despite her calm exterior, she could feel her heart racing, and the flowers itching their way up her throat.

Courtney squawked indignantly. “Hey! I’m just being honest!”

“Mhmm,” Heather hums absentmindedly as she rises from her seat. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

She barely hears Courtney’s grumpy and hesitant “Fine,” before stalking out the room, grabbing a hall pass on her way out. As soon as the door swung shut behind her, out of sight from her peers, Heather dashed as quickly as she could to the solitude of the nearest bathroom. She slams the stall door closest to her open noisily, thankful there was nobody around, and heaves into the toilet as the blood and flowers bloom from her mouth.

They hurt more than the daffodils and gardenias, now that they’re coming out as full flowers accompanied with a few stray petals rather than just petals, but Heather shoves the thought to the side in favor of pulling her hair away from her face. The toilet bowl is filled with a hideous mixture of blood and petals, and Heather feels like a decaying corpse as the energy leaves her, crumbling to the ground as she heaved from the aftermath of the coughing fit.

Picking petals from her backmost molars, Heather spits once more, the remaining drops of blood falling into the sink. Her chin is wet and sticky with her own blood, and she’s sure her teeth are stained red as well; Heather half-heartedly debates asking her parents to pick her up as she flushes the toilet, whisking away most of the evidence excluding the blood dribbling down her chin from her mouth and a few stray petals, before deciding she’d rather vomit flowers rooted to her lungs for the rest of the day than be with her family.

As she rinsed water from the sink in her mouth, Heather nearly spits it out in surprise when she notices a bathroom stall crack open from the mirror. Then she actually spits the stained water from her mouth, whirling around to threaten whoever it was to secrecy. When her eyes meet a head of blue hair, she falters slightly, and that’s all it takes for the other to take control.

“You too?” Is all Gwen asks, having recovered from her initial surprise. She doesn’t look grossed out by the blood, and instead joins Heather by the sinks.

Narrowing her eyes, Heather recoils to what she knows best around Gwen: defense. “Excuse me?”

Gwen laughs, sardonically and self-deprecatingly, with a hint of amusement. It’s the most Heather’s seen her laugh to her since, well, ever. Then, still in astonishment, Heather felt herself stagger back and her eyes widened when pale pink roses, white carnations, and yellow coreopsis flowers fell from Gwen’s blue-lipsticked lips, gracefully fluttering to the tiled floor.

Suddenly, Heather understands, but Gwen still unnecessarily elaborates. “The flowers. You too?”

Heather only hesitates for a split second before sighing and staring down at the sink bowl. “Yeah,”

“Didn’t expect it from you of all people,” Gwen chuckled humorlessly. “Didn’t think the Queen Bee Heather knew what emotion was, let alone be stuck in unrequited love,” she mocked bitterly. She turns to Heather, gaze softening. “So, who is it?”

Heather blinked. “What do you mean?”

Gwen snorted and gestured to the petals and trail of blood on the tiled floor. “The flowers, honors student,”

Ignoring the sarcastic remark, Heather paused before admitting, “I don’t know,”

Gwen grunted disbelievingly. “Come on, I know you don’t like or trust me, but really, who am I going to tell?”

“Hey, I’m actually being honest here!” Heather snapped, glaring at the goth. Of course, I’m told I’m lying when I’m actually being honest… she thinks with a scoff as her scowl returns.

“Whatever, have you tried…” Gwen trails off, frowning as her brows scrunch together. “I don’t know, I just knew who mine was for—”

“Who?” Heather asks curiously, having not picked up on Gwen displaying any of the usual symptoms of a horrid teenage crush. No staring, attention-seeking, stuttering, or blushing — it was the same behavior for everyone with Gwen.

The goth hesitates only for a split moment before sighing and giving one name: “Geoff,”

Heather hums, unsure what to say. Gwen narrows her eyes, seeming to just remember who she was talking to.

“Seeing as how we’re one and the same right now, if I catch you telling anyone, I will spread the news of your diagnosis, okay?”

“Don’t worry, Weird Goth Girl, your secret is safe with me,” Heather promises, the corners of her lips twitching up at the use of the old nickname. “Just help me clean up all this before someone walks in,”

Gwen nods once, before bending over the sink and coughing a few more flowers and petals in the sink, blood spilling from her mouth. Awkwardly, Heather pats her back, unsure what to do, before realizing she should probably hold her hair back.

“Thanks,” Gwen murmurs, her voice even more hoarse and tired than normal. Heather just gives her a nod before crouching down to pick up the flowers trailing the ground; Gwen hurries to grab a mop from the back closet to clean the blood.

It’s when Heather comes across the petals of the pale pink roses, white carnations, and yellow coreopsis flowers that a pang of empathy spurs in her. She turns to Gwen.

“Those type of roses specifically mean joy, the white carnations mean purity and loveliness, and the yellow coreopsis means cheerfulness.”

Gwen looks up from her work and blinks, taken aback, before smiling slowly and softly. “That fits him,”

Wordlessly, the two set off to finish the cleanup of their shared death sentence in the form of flowers and blood, when the bathroom door flies open once more. Both Heather and Gwen look up, eyes wide in surprise. Before either can communicate, a thunderous voice and a ticked-off Eva enter the area.

“Get back to class, we have to clean up —” she gets cut off from her own demand, faltering at the sight of Heather and Gwen bent over the floor, cleaning blood, flowers, and bloody flowers. Her eyes flit back to the duo who are too frozen and flabbergasted to speak. “What happened?”

Heather opens her mouth to bullshit her way into an explanation as she always did when Eva’s eyes suddenly narrow dangerously, intercepting the unsaid lie. She spits out one last order before turning on her heel, leaving the bathroom.

“Meet me in the library after school. Come alone, and hurry up and get back to class so no one else walks in on you.”

After her departure, all Heather and Gwen could do was stare at one another, wide-eyed and depleted of the fluttery itchiness of their lungs and throats, for once, before resolving to hurriedly finish garnering the crumpled flowers and washing the blood down the sink.

Heather goes back to class for the remaining minutes of the day, her mind elsewhere even as Courtney berates her for the long bathroom break. Her mind drifts to Gwen’s sardonic laugh, the goth's utter defeat after finishing hacking, and the way her eyes are avoiding Geoff’s direction, instead fixated on a pink charm bracelet Heather had noticed her fiddling with on multiple occasions before.

The image of Gwen choking on her own blood and petals momentarily and the sound of her warbled snort had been seared in Heather’s memory, and all she could do was wonder. Wonder if, in due time, her own condition would mirror Gwen’s when she inevitably lost to the disease that was slowly but surely suffocating her.

❀

When Eva had instructed her and Gwen to meet with her alone, Heather had assumed that that applied to Eva as well.

What she had not expected, however, was for her and Gwen to be seated with Eva and two of the most arbitrary (personality-wise, that was) redheads Heather ever had the pleasure (?) of meeting.

She scowled. With herself, Gwen, Eva, Izzy, and Harold, they had practically formed their own little Losers Club. Brilliant.

Harold awkwardly coughed, having declared himself the unofficial leader.

Gwen scoffed, leaning back into her seat. She leaned her chair, balancing it on two legs at a dangerous angle. “What is this, Hanahaki Club?” Gwen mockingly questioned, mirroring Heather’s thoughts.

Harold guiltily smiles. “Well, no. See, Eva here —” Eva glared at the boy, scowling. Harold faltered for the fifth time that meeting, gulping — “had Hanahaki awhile ago. Last year, I think. She confessed to Izzy, and the rest is history.”

Izzy nodded enthusiastically. She grabbed Eva’s hand, making the latter blush furiously at the unprompted gesture. “Yup! Our getting together was actually like this one Romanian film —”

“Anyway,” Harold interrupted. “I noticed Eva’s symptoms and helped her, which we intend to do with you two. Now,” he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, casting a pensive look to Heather and Gwen, who exchanged glances. “Which one of you has Hanahaki?”

Before Heather can think to lie and save her own skin, Gwen answers truthfully. “Both of us,”

“Gwen!” Heather hissed. The mentioned shrugs.

“What, you think you’ll be able to resist coughing up flowers during this?” At Gwen’s words, Heather felt her face twist as she felt an itching in her throat. Satisfied, Gwen nods and turns to the others. “Thought so.”

“I’m going to be honest,” Eva begins. Her tone is softer than before, but just as commanding. “Hanahaki… it’s hell. But just ease your suffering by confessing. I didn’t want to risk my life when a few words could save it.”

At Eva’s words, Heather can’t help but feel a surge of jealousy at her words, her sureness. At how she and Gwen just knew who their flowers were for, and how Eva had the mind and courage to confess.

If she did know who the amaryllises and chrysanthemums that were rooted in her lungs were for, would Heather confess? She wasn’t sure, and she hated the uncertainty.

“Yeah, but, he just broke up with his girlfriend,” Gwen murmured, tracing a finger on the table as she spoke in a low voice. She seemed fascinated with the intricate design of the wood, now, refusing to meet the eyes of her peers that were softened with sympathy. “And… he just sees me as a friend. ‘One of the guys', you know?”

A beat passes before Harold frowns, a hand on his chin like some wannabe Sherlock, Heather notes, face expectedly contorted in pensiveness. “Is it Geoff?”

“Bingo,” Gwen says dryly.

Izzy turns to Heather, the hyperactivity from before dulled as she looks serious for what had to be one of the few times in her life. “And you?”

“What about me?” Heather sighs, though she knows that they know she knows what’s being insinuated.

“Who’re the flowers for?” Eva interjects.

The question dances around in Heather’s head and leaks out of the others’ imploring glances, but Heather finds herself faltering as she struggles to answer.

“I don’t…” Heather frowns, thinking of the flowers welling up in her lungs that she’s sure will snuff out her life. Her frown melts into a scowl when she thinks of whoever her enamored was, and how they doubled as her soon-to-be inevitable murderer, along with how she didn’t even get the privilege to know their identity. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Eva echoes. Her face is not contorted in anger, like Heather assumed it would, but rather thoughtfulness. Neither is her voice thunderous or disbelieving — Eva seemed to seriously be contemplating the likelihood of it. She turns to Harold. “Is that even possible?”

The redhead looks just as lost in thought as Eva. He shrugs. “Maybe…” He shifts his attention back to Heather, who is beginning to feel as if she were being prodded at, dissected, and inspected by her peers. “Have you tried thinking about it?”

“Excuse me?” Heather asks, taken aback. Her scowl diminished momentarily in her surprise, before it fell back into place, more intense than before. “What do you think I’ve been doing? Analyzing the flowers and flower language like I’ve gone insane —”

“I mean,” Harold interrupts, “have you tried… I dunno, fantasizing about the people in your life? Like, placing yourself in your ideal date with them to see if the flowers spur in your throat? It worked in this one manga —”

Heather droned out the rest of his rant, frowning to herself. Why hadn’t she thought of that?

“Anyway,” Eva cut Harold off with a silencing glare. The boy in question audibly gulps, shifting in his seat and indiscreetly glancing away to the opposite direction. “What do your flowers mean?” She looked to Gwen and Heather.

“The first round were marigolds,” Gwen admits carefully. “They mean jealousy. The second had mistletoe and yellow tulips — they mean affection and longing, and the tulips meant good friendship, or something like that. Now, I have pale pink roses, which mean joy, white carnations, which mean purity and loveliness, and yellow coreopsis flowers, which mean cheerfulness.”

“My first flowers were daffodils and gardenias.” Heather found no reason to lie now. “They mean unrequited and secret love. Way to spell it out,” she chuckled dryly, and humorlessly, and pretending to not notice the varying amounts of sympathy from the group. Her throat stings. “The ones I have now — amaryllises and chrysanthemums — mean pride and loyalty.”

Eva raises her eyebrows. “High-maintenance? Wouldn’t have expected that from you,”

Heather grunted. “Shut up,” Her throat hurt too much for a better rebuttal.

“You know, it’s probably Courtney,” Izzy hums half-jokingly with a grin. Gwen barely stifles a laugh.

Feeling her face flush and a lump form in her throat, Heather opens her mouth to argue, but is silenced when Harold shoots her a look.

“So, to recap,” Harold draws their attention back in, “The flowers represent who you love and/or your dynamic with them. Heather, try finding some privacy and think of your ideal date with people you know who are prideful and loyal, okay? We’ll meet up here on Monday. Hopefully you’ll have figured it out by then.”

“Fine,” Heather agrees, clumsily gathering her things. Her throat is burning, along with her chest and she’s sure her eyes are stinging, and she desperately wants to cough, but not now, and certainly not here with this audience. “See you Monday, Hanahaki Club,” she mutters sarcastically.

Half-hearted laughs register in Heather’s ears, but she’s already out of the library and dashing to the second nearest bathroom, not wanting to be walked in on. Her focus had been shifted from her illness momentarily, but now that it had been remembered, it was all it took for her to cough up the familiar flowers to the bathroom floor, unleashing a familiar strangled and warbled choking noise, accompanied by foreign tears.

❀

At night, when Heather’s parents and siblings are fast asleep, Heather lies wide awake in bed, tossing and turning. Whoever her beloved was was causing her to be unable to sleep at night, and when she was awake, she would cough on petals and blood, and she just craved to sleep.

Part of her wondered if it was possible for her to choke on the flowers in her sleep, before concluding that it didn’t matter. She was going to die, anyway.

Her mind wanders back to the secret meeting in the library, and of Harold’s advice. She had never wanted to date any of her classmates, but seeing as how she had the disease, it was a waste of time groveling in defeat. Instead, she shuts her eyes, and thinks of her fantasy.

Intimacy is what comes to mind first. She doesn’t like intimacy with her family or friends, but maybe she’s a sucker for looking into someone’s eyes and holding hands and telling someone I love you and meaning it. It doesn’t make her a sap; it just means that her needs are impossible to fulfill.

Eyes still shut, the image of her perfect date materializes in Heather’s head. Limbs entangled around one another as she and her mysterious person cuddled on a couch while watching an arbitrary film. Sharing a cup of hot chocolate and blankets as the chilling air from outdoors was kept out from inside by the heater. Talking animatedly about their interests and such over the movie, gazing into one another’s eyes; no judgment was to be found in either. It was peaceful and isolated, and perfect to Heather. Her parents never showed affection, and couples in high school never lasted — that type of love wasn’t real, but Heather allowed herself to fantasize, still, for the sake of finding who her enamored was.

Thinking it was best to start with the girls Heather was acquainted with that fit the bill, Heather sighs before imagining the ambiguous person as her classmates.

Leshawna. She’s the most faithful person Heather knows of, and she’s certainly proud. The flowers remain still and unmoving in her lungs, and so, she decides to move on.

Gwen. Unsurprisingly, the flowers don’t itch. The goth was more of someone Heather could respect, anyway.

Eva. Still, no reaction. Part of her is grateful, as she didn’t want to face the wrath of Izzy ever.

Dakota. One of the least likely, but it was possible, Heather supposed. They had some things in common, after all.

Court—

Her dark brown eyes were the only thing that had materialized in her mind when the flowers came out roughly and swiftly. Her blood is hot and thick in her throat as she tries in a daze to not suffocate on it, but still, she chokes on it. She can feel tears springing in her eyes and the sweat piling on her back and under her armpits; she can feel her chest burning in indescribable pain that was unlike any of the other coughing fits. It’s worse than anything she’s ever endured which is, granted, not quite the resume, but nevertheless, Heather feels as if her body is tearing and ripping itself apart while simultaneously hastily stitching itself back together by the amount of pain unleashed from her floral disease.

She scrambles to the sink of the bathroom attached to her bedroom, retching into the basin. The blood and flowers look like an artful arrangement, though Heather barely registers its appearance through both the pain and the unwavering amount of hatred coursing through her at the thought of Courtney unknowingly inflicting this upon her. Somewhere, she’s sleeping peacefully, while Heather is choking on her own blood and the flowers rooted to her lungs from just the mere thought of Courtney’s eyes.

Finally, mercifully, after a few minutes, the coughing fit ceases, but all that’s left is Heather’s heavy heaves as she attempts to retain her breath. Her vision flickers as black dances across her vision, and all she can smell is an overwhelming smell of metal and cleaning supplies. Her sink looks like the delicately painted masterpiece of an artistic sacrificial seance scene with all the blood and flowers. With a sigh, Heather strips of her bloodstained clothes, tossing them in her hamper to wash in the morning. After changing into a new acceptable and clean pair that Heather is sure will be ruined in a few hours, she brings out the cleaning supplies from under her sink and begins to clean at a feverish pace in a dazed state.

Ah, Heather thinks bitterly with a crazed and forced smile on her face, scrubbing extra hard on the sink as the thought flits in her mind, I get it now.

❀

“It’s Courtney,” Heather admitted to the group with a scowl present on her face. None had to ask her to elaborate, and none mention her scowl or her cough at the name. Heather’s scowl deepens further when she notices Gwen and Harold sighing in unison, sliding money to Izzy and Eva, who gladly accept them, with defeated sighs. “Wha —! Did you guys seriously bet on this? I’m literally dying over here!”

The words silence the group before Gwen snorts, and with that, the rest join her and laugh. Heather has half the mind to tell them that they’re in a library, but realizes she sounds freakishly like Courtney. Plus, for once, Gwen is choking on her laughter rather than flowers, so Heather allows it just for once with her own small smile and laugh.

“You know,” Harold manages to choke out, eyebrows raised in either surprise or amusement, “I didn’t take Courtney as your type.”

“Me neither,” Heather mutters. “Who did you think my type was?”

He shrugs. “Alejandro was my main suspect. I thought Justin was Eva’s crush, at first, to be honest.”

The laughter dies down momentarily as the group stares at Harold in confusion. Gwen, cracking another smile, mutters, “Harold, they’re lesbians,” before collapsing in another fit of laughter.

This time, Heather joins in more easily, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. The flowers momentarily disappear, along with Courtney and thoughts of her love.

❀

END OF PART ONE

[louezem]

Saying Yes

Summary:  Katniss and Peeta had a bitter break up years ago and went their separate ways. Katniss knows nothing of Peeta’s life now, until a stunning blonde walks into the exclusive bridal salon were she works, to buy her a dress for her wedding - to Peeta Mellark. 

Part Four - Sisters…..

Part 4 - Sisters  

“Prim?  Are you here?”

Katniss threw her keys and bag down and toed off her shoes with a sigh of relief.  It had been a long and frustrating day at work.   All she wanted was to shower, eat and then sleep.   

“I’m in the kitchen!” her sister replied.  “Dinner’s almost ready!”

Katniss offered up a silent prayer of thanks that she wouldn’t have to face another takeout or frozen pizza for dinner tonight.  She knew how to cook but was lazy about it when she only had to cook for herself.  Prim, however, loved to cook.

She followed the delicious aroma wafting down the narrow hall to the tiny kitchen.   It was barely big enough to hold a small table and 2 chairs, but Prim had set it with the nice plates and cutlery and a small bud vase holding a single, yellow dandelion.

“What’s all this?” Katniss waved at the table.  “It’s not my birthday.”

“Does it need to be a special occasion for me to show my appreciation for my favorite sister?” Prim asked, lifting a spoon to her mouth and offering it to her for a taste. 

“Mmm, that’s so good.” Katniss licked her lips.  “It tastes familiar. What’s in it?”

“It’s lamb stew with dried plums.” Prim smiled as she added an extra dash of red wine to the simmering pot.  “I remembered how much you love it and I thought I’d try to recreate the recipe.  Besides, lamb was on special at the market today.”  

Still thrifty with the budget.  Katniss thought.  Old habits die hard.

“Go get cleaned up.  Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. I just need to warm up some crusty bread to go with this.”

“I love you, little duck,” Katniss said, pulling her sister in for a hug. 

“I love you more, duck potato,” Prim grinned.

An hour later and Katniss was feeling full and sleepy as she curled on the sofa with her legs tucked under her, sipping on a second glass of red wine.  

“Thank you Prim, that was wonderful,” she sighed, patting her full tummy.  “I always appreciate a home cooked meal but I thought you had plans to go to the movies with Rory tonight?”

“I did but he caught an extra shift so I decided to come over and bug you instead.” Prim said, joining her on the sofa. 

“So, did you happen to catch any news today?  Hear any juicy celebrity gossip at work?” she asked, taking a sip from her own wineglass.

Katniss looked sideways at her sister, wondering why she was asking such an odd question. Prim knew Katniss was not big on the news or gossip – celebrity or otherwise.

“No, I was run off my feet all day.  I don’t have time for gossip.  There’s a trunk show on all week and they can get a little crazy.”

“Huh,” Prim starting tapping on the screen of her obnoxiously large smart phone. “Then you haven’t seen this?”  She slowly turned the phone screen to face her sister.

Katniss fought to keep her composure as she watched the images unfold in front of her.  The video captured a gorgeous smiling couple standing close together, hands intwined, on a gilded balcony overlooking the park.  A fireworks display was lighting up the night sky behind them.  Once the fireworks come to an end the couple and their guests start to clap and cheer and someone pops a champagne cork as music begins to play and other couples start to filter onto the dancefloor.  

Dressed in the one-of-a-kind flowing white and gold reception gown created by Cinna, paired with custom Jimmy Choo couture heels and her golden hair flowing in loose waves almost to her waist, the bride was every bit as breath-taking as Katniss knew she would be.  Holding her close to his side with an affectionate smile on his face was Peeta.   He looked equally handsome in a perfectly tailored white suit with gold accents at his throat, breast pocket and cuffs.

Though Cinna never talked to her about it – most likely to spare her feelings - Katniss knew he’d worked closely with Portia, the designer who created Peeta’s outfit, to ensure the bride and groom perfectly complimented each other on their special day.   

She couldn’t help looking carefully at Peeta’s left hand now placed on Glimmer’s waist expecting to see the shiny glint of a new gold band on his finger but he didn’t appear to be wearing one. 

That’s odd. She thought. No wedding ring?

She always thought Peeta was the type of guy would like to wear a ring when he got married. 

When they were dating he was always very open about showing his feelings for her, and would tease her gently when she got embarrassed by his frequent public displays of affection.  “I want the whole world to know I’m yours,” he’d told her, more than once, gently tugging on the end of her braid as she’d scowl.

Unable to continue watching him display affection for another woman was more then she could bear and she pushed the phone away.

“They make a very lovely couple,” Katniss said quietly. “I hope they’ll be very happy together”. 

Prim snorted out loud. “Katniss did you even read what’s under the video?” she held the phone up again.

“The Show Must Go On!”

An official spokesperson for the Snow family declined to comment following the cancellation of the nuptials between heiress Glimmer Snow, granddaughter of Coriolanus Snow, and her fiancé Peeta Mellark, Culinary Director for the “Arena” chain of restaurants owned by the Snow Corporation.  However the brother of the groom, Mr Ryan Mellark, confirmed that the decision by the couple not to proceed with the wedding was both “mutual and loving” and that the couple would remain friends.    

“I don’t understand,” Katniss looked to her sister, confused.  “Are you telling me they didn’t get married?”

“Yep.  No wedding. They called it off at the last minute but went ahead with the dinner and reception anyway, which is kind of cool.  One of Rory’s classmates was working the bar for the evening and he says it turned into one hell of a party. But then I guess the Snow family does know how to do things in style.”

“Wow. I wonder what happened to make them call it off.” Katniss stared into space as she tried to process this new information.   She’d purposely avoided all news and social media over the weekend, hoping that if she distanced herself the sooner she’d be able to forget the intense look in Peeta’s eyes as she’d driven away from the hotel.  “So much time, money and effort went into those dresses, poor Cinna worked for days hand beading the reception dress—"

Prim rolled her eyes. 

“Lord almighty Katniss, you can be so dumb sometimes,” she took another sip of her wine.  “Isn’t it obvious what happened?  Peeta claps eyes on you again for the first time in forever and the next day his wedding is called off.  He still loves you.”

“That’s not true.” Katniss jumped off the sofa and quickly gathered her wine glass and the near empty bottle.  “Don’t say that.  Why would you say something like that?”

“Hey, give that back!” Prim tried to grab the wine bottle from her as she stomped past into the kitchen and began angrily slamming their dirty dishes into the dishwasher.   It wasn’t long before she heard her sister’s soft footsteps behind her.

“I’m sorry Katniss, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Prim apologised quietly.  “I’m worried about you, that’s all.  You haven’t been yourself since you found out Peeta was getting married.”

Katniss sighed.  “I’m fine Prim, really.  You’ve no need to worry about me.  Peeta and I were over a lifetime ago.  I’m over it.  I know absolutely nothing about his life now.”

Prim tilted her head and regarded her sister with cool blue eyes.  “Will you ever tell me what happened between the two of you?  You’ve never given me a straight answer.”

“Does it matter now?”

Prim shrugged. “I’d like to understand.  I was still a kid when you two broke up and no one bothered to explain what was going on to me.  It was confusing.  All I knew was one day you were getting ready to leave for college, the next you were staying in District 12 and applying for any low paid job you could get.  Why didn’t you go?”

“Because things changed,” Katniss scowled. “Family comes first.”

Prim squinted. “Really, Katniss? You’ve fobbed me off with that line for years.  I was hoping you were finally ready to open up with a few more details. I know you loved Peeta, don’t bother denying it.  Your feelings for him weren’t the problem.  Or his for you, everyone could see how bad the guy had it for you.  It wasn’t Mom, or money issues.  She was fine then and you had a full scholarship.  There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

“All right, if you want to know I’ll tell you.”  Katniss reached up into a small cupboard a produced a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses.  “Follow me.  This conversation is going to require something a bit stronger than wine.”

Settled back on the sofa once again, she tossed back a shot and took a deep breath.

“Peeta accused me of cheating on him,” she began.  “When I tried to defend myself, he didn’t believe me.  He chose to take his brother’s word over mine.”

“No way.” Prim gasped, her eyes widening.

“It’s true.  Rye told Peeta he caught me making out with Gale after a graduation party at Madge’s house.  Rye didn’t believe me when I told him that Gale kissed me, that I didn’t invite it and I didn’t kiss him back.  After cussing me out and calling me a few choice names he went straight to Peeta and told him.”

“Oh, shit.”  Prim’s mouth dropped open.  She picked up a full shot glass and threw it back before fixing her sister with a stare.  “Okay. In the interest of full disclosure I have to ask – did you make out with Gale?”

“Of course not!” Katniss yelled.  “Gale was my friend!  I’d known him since we were kids.   Besides, Madge liked him and I wouldn’t do that to a friend.”

“But did you like him?  Let’s face it, Gale is attractive.  In a Hemsworth kind of way.”

“No. I only ever saw him like a cousin, or maybe an older brother.  I never felt anything romantic for Gale.  It shocked the hell out of me when he kissed me.  We didn’t talk for a long time afterwards.”

“Okay, okay, I just needed to clarify that.  Continue, please.“

“Peeta and I had a huge fight and he broke up with me.  He was horrible to me Prim.”  Katniss voice cracked a little as the memories assaulted her.   “He wouldn’t give me a chance to defend myself. He was so mean, I’d never seen him like that before.  He was like a totally different person.”

Katniss felt the familiar sting starting to build behind her eyes and bit her lip in order to try and gain some control over her emotions.  It still hurt, remembering the words that came out of his mouth.

“He asked me had I led Gale on, and told me to crawl back to the slag heap I came from.” 

“Oh my god, Katniss,” Prim’s eyes softened and reached towards her sister “I’m so sorry—"

“Wait! It gets worse!” Katniss let out a hard laugh.  “As if that wasn’t bad enough, somehow Peeta’s evil bitch of a mother found out about what happened.  She called Mom and threatened her. She told her that if her seam slut of a daughter went ahead with her plans to go to the same school as her son, that she’d report her to Child Protective Services for neglect.  She’d tell them about Mom leaving us alone at night while she worked, and that you would be left at home by yourself at 14 if I left town for school. She even knew about the bouts of depression after Dad died.  All stuff I’d confided in Peeta about.” 

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Prim jumped of the sofa and started to pace up and down. “It’s so unfair.  And untrue!  Mom and I talked about what would happen when you went to school, I was going to stay overnight with Hazelle at the Hawthornes when she was on nights!” 

“You know that and I know that, but Mom was terrified.  She didn’t know what to do.”

Katniss downed another shot. 

“After she threatened Mom, I tried talking to Rye one more time.  I begged him again to believe me that what he saw wasn’t real, but he insisted I was lying.  That Gale had been seen at the slag heap with a girl from the Seam, and I must have made it worth it when he could have had Madge instead of my skinny ass.  His words.  I never really understood that part.”  She frowned.

“I told him about his mother’s threats and he finally said he’d talk to his Dad about keeping her off our Mom’s back, but only for your sake and only if I agreed to stop trying to contact Peeta.  So I did what he wanted.  I gave up my college place and started applying for jobs and signed up for a few classes at the Community College.”

“So, it was me.” Prim’s eyes filled with tears and she crawled towards her sister and wrapped her arms around her in a fierce hug. “You did it for me.”

Katniss shrugged like it was no big deal. “You’re my sister. I’d give my life for yours in a heartbeat.”

“You’re such a dumbass but I love you.” Prim began to cry harder. “You sacrificed so much Katniss.  Your education.  Your future.  Peeta. I’ve never seen you as happy as when you two were together, not even when you were with Darius.”

“Hush now, no more of that talk.” Katniss soothed her crying sister, tears forming in her own eyes. “It all worked out for the best in the end.   I was here when Mom got sick and I took on a second job to help pay the bills.  We got by, and we stayed together. That’s what Dad would have wanted.  Family comes first.”

“Peeta was a part of our family. He was like a brother to me when I was a kid.” Prim sniffed.  “Why didn’t he believe you?  And what the fuck was Rye’s problem?”

“I don’t know.  All I know is his mother always hated me, but I never knew Rye did too. Peeta and Rye were always close, and once Rye started filling Peeta’s head with lies I just couldn’t get through to him after that.  He never spoke to me again after he broke up with me.  A few weeks later he left town for school and I never saw him again until that day on the steps of his hotel.” 

“Katniss, I don’t know what to say. I am so sorry.  It sounds like his mind was poisoned by his brother and that horrible old witch who gave birth to him.  God, I’d love to give her a piece of my mind.  As for Rye? I swear, if I ever see that guy again I will dick punch him.” 

“I saw Rye the day before the wedding, he has mellowed quite a bit,” Katniss continued to stroke Prim’s blonde hair soothingly, taking comfort from the continuous motion herself. “He was almost pleasant once he realized I had a legitimate reason for being there.”

“I owe you so much Katniss,” Prim sat up, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.  “Because of your support, I got to come here, go to school, do everything you missed out on.  Everything I’ve achieved is because you.  How can I ever repay a debt like that?”

“Don’t worry, you can pay for my luxury retirement home on the beach in District Four when you find the cure for cancer,” Katniss quipped and laughed as Prim hit her with a cushion. 

Later that night, after Prim had left and Katniss was getting ready for bed, she couldn’t help but look for a small box she kept hidden in the furthest corner of her closet.  

Inside were a few sentimental items that even after ten years, she never had the heart to throw away.  

A pencil drawing of a dandelion he’d put into her locker one day, after she told him they made her think of him.

A movie stub from their first date.  She smiled at the memory.  Peeta had taken her to see “I Am Legend” and got embarrassed when he cried over the dog, Sam, dying.   It was still one of her favorite movies.

A photo of them together at Senior Prom, and another of their High School Graduation, big smiles on their faces just days before he broke up with her and her world came crashing down.

“Oh Peeta,” she mumbled, “why didn’t you believe me?”  She sniffed.  No, she wasn’t going to cry.  She’d already done enough of that for this lifetime. 

“… maybe you should crawl back to the slag heap you come from.”

She felt a spark of anger in her own stomach when she recalled the things he’d accused her of.  It was an old spark, but one that had helped her keep going and moving forward over the years.   She slammed the box shut and shoved it back in the darkest recess of her closet before crawling into her bed.  She had run from the bakery that day.  Run from his words and the rage and hurt in blue eyes that had only ever looked at her with softer emotions.   

She closed her own eyes and pulled the covers over her head, hoping she wouldn’t be hearing them over and over in her nightmares that night.

~*~    ~*~   ~*~

Read on AO3 

[mlqcconfessions]

Aaaaa I’d die for your headcanons they’re so cuteeeee (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎) How do you think the boys would react to MC’s high school crush (probably a very popular student) reconnecting with her and asking her out on a date? (Not even trying to be subtle, he said it was a date date!)

So adorbs! I love this!! Let’s just call the crush “Tony” (it doesn’t have any relation to me I swear) 

MLQC Headcanon - Please don’t notice me senpai!

Victor

You were at a joint dinner party with your company + LFG to celebrate the recent show doing so well

Naturally, Victor was there (and so was Goldman who just wanted to go home I don’t get paid enough for this)

Towards the end of the party, you were drunk like nobody’s business

You could almost hear the “dummy” coming from him (he didn’t say it, but definitely thought it)

He was annoyed by your drunken habits of clinging to anyone in your proximity

THIS IS WHY HE MADE ANNA AND WILLOW SIT ON EITHER SIDE

He only liked it when you were drunk in front of him

“MC? Is that you?”

You look up to see a familiar face peering down at you, taking you back to your high school unrequited love years)

“Tony….!”

Still in your drunken stupor, you get up to hug him (Mr. CEO is shocked well this is an unexpected change of plans)

You turn around to introduce this new enemy friend to everyone else

“Erryone, dis is Tony! He’s…an…upperklassman from skool…and my first love!” (you’re slurring your words, but you just had to perfectly say the last line)

At this point, Victor is speed messaging his driver to get the car ready

The room goes in silence as everyone else darts back and forth between you and Victor (they can’t save you now)

As if you unintentionally realized the pressure from Pudding Chef, you fall asleep in Tony’s arms

“Oh..um…actually I liked you during high school, too. Maybe we could—“

You’re ripped apart taken from Tony’s arms as Victor picks you up, bridal style

“Sorry about that. My WIFE can be….a little too affectionate, sometimes”

“Oh, no problem…um…(he hesitates)…..w-wife?”

Victor hands Tony his LFG card

He has a separate design to use when chasing out potential rivals (it looks even more expensive than the normal ones)

Victor quickly nods back at him before leaving the restaurant, with you clinging close to his neck

He kisses the top of your head, walking to the car parked outside

“…….dummy….”

Goldman has to clean up the mess his boss just left behind I don’t get paid enough for this

Kiro

You were doing a segment on Kiro’s concert (which he begged Savin to invite you)

To not get in the way of the busy staff, you wait by the corner

Was it the tension in the air? You feel your throat drying up, in desperate need of a drink

As you feel your head spinning, someone comes up to you with an ice cold water bottle

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Thank you so much….I really needed—”

You look up, surprised to see your former crush in front of you

“To-Tony?”

“MC?” He grabs your shoulders, as if he’s making sure it’s really you

The two of you stare at each other for a while before you hear a familiar voice coming from behind you

“Eh? What’s going on? Having fun without me?”

You turn your eyes to him to happily greet the bubbly voice, but you don’t say anything. You can’t say anything

Kiro’s eyes aren’t smiling

“Ki-Kiro! Um…this is Tony…an upperclassman from my high school”

Kiro stares at him, glancing up and down before turning back to you

“Wow! He looks like someone who was popular with the girls…” (Tony can feel hostility, but doesn’t know from where)

“Um..yeah! He was really popular…and all the girls liked him…” (your voice trails off)

“Then did YOU like him too, MC?” (Kiro’s no longer fixing his gaze on you, but to the poor boy behind you)

“I…I guess I did….yeah…” (you’re looking down at your feet, unable to contain yourself within this awkwardness)

“I see….” (Kiro smiles at Tony before pulling you into an embrace, chin resting on your head)

“Well, TONY, it’s been….a pleasure meeting you…”

“Likewise….um…are you two—“

“Dating?” (you quickly look up to Kiro at this sudden change in tone what is he going to do now)

Without giving you time to think how to deny Tony’s question, Kiro cups his hands around your face and kisses your forehead

“YES. We ARE dating” (Tony just nods awkwardly, and walks off to the other side of the room)

“Kiro, since when were we dating each other?”

This time, he kisses you on the lips (literally takes your breath away)

“Starting. Today.”

Lucien

You were attending a fair hosted by Loveland University, with Lucien speaking as a guest of honor

He even picked out your outfit for today (saying it was his good luck charm or something)

You decide to look around by yourself before he goes on the stage

Behind, you hear a familiar voice calling your name (you turn around, almost dropping the bag of goods you collected from the stands

“Tony? Is that you?”

You excitedly rush to greet him, unaware that Lucien was watching you from the stage as his microphone was being set up

You spend so much time talking to Tony that you don’t realize it was nearly time for the guest of honor to speak

“Tony, were you always a student here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around campus”

“Actually, I heard there was a festival today….and remembered that you put down Loveland Uni as your first choice….so I thought I would be able to find you here….and ask you on a possible date?”

You can feel your face turn red as your former love confessed to you

“Oh…! Um…well…you found me!” (really? That’s all you could think of?)

Meanwhile, Lucien has already begun his speech while you were fumbling over this unknown man who approached you

He ends up finishing without you realizing (your thoughts were someplace else, anyways)

He’s waiting for an opportunity (which was given to him rather quickly)

“Thank you for listening. Are there any questions?” (he scans the crowd before selecting someone)

“Professor! Do you have a girlfriend?!”

Lucien is unfazed by this question and was about to fluff around the answer

But his eyes fall back on you, noticing your face turning red (he’s a little annoyed at this)

“Actually, she’s here with me today, in the beautiful butterfly sundress I picked out for her” (the outfit was meant so he could easily spot you, but this works out)

He directs the entire crowd over, and you finally realize the situation

Your entire body turns red this time, and Tony (realizing just who his rival was) says he has to go somewhere else and leaves

You don’t even answer him back, because your head was now occupied with Lucien (of course, he knows you’re thinking about him now)

You could never win against him

Gavin

The two of you were at your high school reunion, with your close classmates (he sat across from you so he can make sure you don’t drink too much)

You were sitting next to your old high school crush (the one you’ve liked for years)

Of course, you feel the intense death glare coming from Birdcop every time Tony passes you food

Minor almost peed his pants

You quickly became uncomfortable with Tony’s forwardness

Yeah you liked him in the past, but obviously it was different now (you want Gavin to realize, too)

You keep sending him signals that you’re not interested (awkwardly scoot your chair away)

He just views it as you being shy and promptly puts his arm around you

GINKGO BOY IS FURIOUS (the wind violently picks up outside, and all the windows start clattering)

The insides of your brain start losing focus as one of your friends brings up the forbidden statement

“MC, didn’t you have a crush on Tony before?”

The wind suddenly stopped (oh no.)

“Um, yeah….but not anymore!” (you look at Gavin, just hoping he understood the message)

He’s not even looking at you anymore (he’s piercing through Tony with his amber eyes why are they so still beautiful in this situation)

“Really? I never knew! Maybe we should start going out now!” (Tony, please, you’re making things worse)

Then Gavin stands up, gathering your stuff and ushering you to leave

He looks at you, as if he’s waiting for something

Oh. Right.

“Um, Tony? It’s true that I did like you before, but I’m sorry. I can’t go out with you. Actually, Gavin and I are—“

He spins you around and swiftly kisses you on the lips (Minor is squealing), raising his left hand interlocked with yours to proudly showcase the ring before saying with a definitive smirk

“ENGAGED”

He never let you go to the subsequent reunions after that

THE FLUFF IS REAL WITH THIS ONE

Hope you guys enjoyed! I personally had a BLAST with Birdcop’s 

Message me to join “Birdcop Patrol”, a group discussion dedicated to our Ginkgo Boy by yours truly

[edens-breathless-melodies-moved]

words: 3.8k

pairing: haiba l. x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: cursing

summary: this isn’t how his night was supposed to go.

he was only meant to pick you up from the frat party as a favor for yaku who was too drunk to get you home himself.

it was not supposed to be him carting your drunk ass through downtown tokyo  instead of getting you home. (but he wasn’t about to complain getting the chance to be near you more.)

______________________________

“ca-li-fornia girls! we’re undeniable!~”

emerald eyes opened blearily, sleepy pupils trying to focus on the dark ceiling of his bedroom as the sound of his phone ringing woke him up.

groaning and rolling to face the side his phone was on, lev’s eyes slipped closed again as he blindly fumbled around on his nightstand for the buzzing device, quickly growing irritated at its incessant ringing.

cursing under his breath as he continued to blindly flail his hand around for the phone, he sighed when he finally felt it under his fingertips, the phone buzzing once more before finally fallen silent.

grasping it tightly, he rolled onto his back before hovering the phone over his face. lev tiredly tapped the screen with his opposite hand, hissing slightly as the brightness from his lock screen momentarily blinded him.

quick to swipe up and lower the brightness, his eyes eventually adjusted and he cursed again under his breath as he took in the five missed calls from ‘yaku💀’ and the time.

“really? it’s 01:45 in the morning,” he grumbled, unlocking his phone and going to the missed calls. he tapped on yaku’s contact and brought the phone to his ear, tiredly raking long fingers through mussed silver hair. “what could he possibly want at 01:45 in the freaking morning…”

in reality, only a handful of seconds passed, maybe even a minute going by as he waited for yaku to answer. but to lev, it felt like hours had crawled along as he listened to the phone ring.

his eyes slipped close again, and he almost fell back asleep until the sound of yaku accepting his call and the sudden blaring of music brought him back into the land of the living.

startled awake, lev brought a hand up again to lazily scratch his cheek, eyes only barely opened.

“yaku-chan, what’s going on…?” he murmured into the phone, eyebrows scrunching together as he barely picked out the sound of yaku speaking over the loud bass of the music and the distant screech of laughter in the background.

‘is he at a club?’ lev wondered as he barely heard yaku explaining that (y/n)) needed to be picked up from wherever they were at.

at the mention of your name, lev sat up straight in his bed, sharp eyes focused as he suddenly found himself very awake.

“why does she need to be picked up? are you guys okay?” he questioned, twisting his body and throwing his comforter off as he stood up and stretched his long limbs, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand.

a snort could be heard from the other line, “yeah, yeah. we’re all fine and dandy here, but I think (y/n) has had just a little too much to drink. i know this isn’t her first frat party she’s been too,”

lev hummed quietly to himself. ‘frat party, not a club.’ though he wasn’t so sure that that was any better of a place to be shitfaced at. “but she kinda went overboard with the jungle juice, and i’m pretty sure kuroo challenging her to see who could handle the most shots wasn’t the best idea.”

lev groaned audibly this time, dragging a hand down his face as he walked out of his room and towards the front door, shuffling his shoes on and slipping a hoodie over his head before grabbing his keys and exiting his apartment.

“why would you let her and kuroo do that if you knew her tolerance was shitty to begin with?” he exclaimed exasperatedly as he remotely unlocked his car and climbed in, shivering slightly at the cold october breeze.

lev had known you since his first year of high school, with him being part of the boy’s volleyball club, and you being their cute second-year manager.

he hadn’t meant to develop a crush on you, you were his manager and senpai, after all. but he couldn’t help but become entranced with the way your (e/c) eyes shined like stars whenever he correctly received or blocked the ball during practice matches.

the two of you eventually grew closer, lev keeping his crush on you a secret in fear of ruining his friendship with you.

that didn’t stop the team from finding out and picking on him whenever they got the chance. and though their teasing was almost unbearable sometimes, that didn’t stop him from falling for you any less.

eventually, you graduated, and a year later so did he. you both wound up going to the same university in yokohama. you had already been there a year before you found out lev was going to be attending there as well. 

although you majored in pharmaceutical science with a minor in liberal arts, you can only imagine the shock on your face when lev had texted you saying he was majoring in marine and mercantile engineering, but if that didn’t work out, apparently his sister alisa has a backup plan for him.

“i know, right?! it’s kinda crazy for me to believe whenever i say it out loud, too!” he laughed as you stared at him in shock over facetime.

“that’s just… wow.” you said in astonishment, not being able to fully wrap your head around the fact that this giant, volleyball obsessed goon would be majoring in engineering of all things. 

“i could’ve sworn you would’ve attempted to go pro, at least…” you muttered more to yourself than anything. you didn’t miss the way lev’s smile drooped at your comment, however, and your face flushed in embarrassment and mortification that you could’ve possibly hurt his feelings. 

“n-not that that means you won’t be good at it! you’ve always had good grades at nekoma, and you’re such a creative kid!” you rambled as you attempted to fix your stupid mistake.

your arms stopped flailing around once you heard his laughter waft from the speaker on your phone, and a small blush crept up your cheeks when you saw his lighthearted smile aimed at you again, cat-like eyes shining brightly.

“i know you meant no harm, (y/n)-chan~. and you know i only got good grades cause you helped me study!” you felt your blush grow darker at the cute lilt in his tone whenever he said your name but grinned right back at him.

“exactly! so don’t get too cocky, punk.”

and while you chose to live in one of the campuses dorms, lev settled for a cozy but modern flat about 10 minutes from the school.

(he didn’t have the heart to tell you that his parents weren’t fond of the school’s dorms and instead opted to tell you that he just enjoyed the freedom of being on his own for once when you complained about not dorming near each other.)

you both had grown so much from the volleyball dweebs you were in high school...

snapping out of his trance at the sound of his phone pinging, he brought it away from his ear as he saw that he had received a text from yaku, who was still on the call.

“here’s the address of the frat we’re at.” yaku slurred slightly from the opposite end. lev let out another sigh as he put the phone in its holder connected to his dash, putting the address into maps. 

another tired sigh escaped his lips as he buckled his seatbelt, seeing that the frat was almost half an hour away, very close to where they all went to high school together.

“okay, okay, i’m on my way. just don’t lose sight of her.” he grumbled as he put the key into the ignition and began backing out of his parking space and turning to leave the development’s parking lot.

another slurred ‘yes sir, i’m 6’5 now! headass,’ rang out from his phone’s speaker before yaku hung up, causing a chuckle to leave lev.

sharp emerald eyes paid attention to the road as he began the drive to downtown tokyo to go pick up the woman he loves, shitfaced out of her mind.

a groan escaped him again as he came to a red light, lightly smacking his forehead against the steering wheel. 

this is going to be a very long night.

_________________________

“kurooo, l-let gooo!” you whined as you struggled to remove kuroo’s iron-grip on the waist of your shirt, flailing around to get him off.

a drunken giggle passed his lips as he tugged you back to sit between him and a very sober and very annoyed kenma, who wrapped an arm around your waist as well to keep you locked to the porch’s last step.

“no can do, (y/n)-chan~” kuroo sang as he tightened his grip on you. a weak ‘yeah!’ can be heard from yaku who was slumped against kenma’s legs, holding onto the old setter for dear life as he tried his best to keep the room from spinning.

“you can’t keep running away every time you get wasted, (n/n)-chan,” kenma murmured as he gently rubbed comforting circles into your side to relax you, eyes never leaving the screen of his phone. it was working too, as you began to lean into his side more and relaxed, a content smile on your liquor scented lips. 

“besides,” he continued, a small smile on his lips as cat-like eyes watched you from the side, ready to gauge your reaction. “yaku has already called lev. he’s on his way to come pick you up.”

your relaxed frame stiffened at the mention of the tall green-eyed male, and both kuroo and kenma tightened their grip on you in case you tried to pull a fast one and make a run for it.

“you did w h a t?!” you screeched, clawing at kenma’s and kuroo’s arms in an attempt to flee the area before lev had a chance to see you completely blasted. both men grunted as they continued to hold you against them, though a small smile and large smirk were on their faces, respectively.

a quiet chuckle was heard from yaku too, and you stopped struggling against your old classmates as you narrowed (e/c) eyes onto the ashy haired man. “you!” you hissed before picking up your leg to kick the ever-loving shit out of the unsuspecting male.

at least, that would’ve happened if your veins weren’t swimming with questionable amounts of jungle juice and eight shots of silver patron.

instead, your foot merely shoved the poor boy off of kenma’s legs, (who totally didn’t sigh in relief) and caused him to flop on his back onto the cold concrete sidewalk that lead to the house.

a whine left yaku’s lips as he pouted at the abuse, but he made no move to get up from his temporary napping spot.

yaku closed his eyes as he hummed, not seeing the way your (s/c) cheeks flared with color when he said, “oh please, why are you mad at me? it’s about time you confessed to the giant, lord knows you both are too dense to do anything on your own.”

the end of his sentence made your eyebrows scrunch together in drunken confusion, and both kenma and kuroo cursed under their breath at yaku’s idiocy.

‘she doesn’t know he likes her back, dumbass!’ both boys were glaring daggers at yaku’s body on the concrete, who paid them no mind.

“w-what do you mean ‘both of us’?” you slurred confusedly, hands coming up to form the quotation marks.

before any of them had a chance to say anything, the sound of a car turning onto the nearly empty street distracted them all, and your heart started beating faster when you recognized the grey honda civic driving up to you guys.

the car parked right in front of you guys, and the passenger’s side window was rolled down, revealing a very tired pair of green eyes with an equally tired smile to match it. 

you swore your heart stopped when those eyes locked with yours, gleaming with amusement and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on because, you know, you’re off the fucking chain, right now.

“hey, (y/n)! wanna go for a ride?”

_______________________

a content sigh left your lips as you happily munched on a hashbrown, eyes closed in bliss as you savored the salty delicacy. lev smiled at you softly from across the table, chin resting in his palm as he watched you basically inhale the food.

you guys were currently sitting at an outside a 24/7 mcdonald’s that had recently been built about 15 minutes away from where you used to go to school.

before you guys stumbled upon it, lev was trying his hardest to keep you from getting in trouble or hurting yourself as you drunkenly pulled him along the semi-empty tokyo streets.

even at 2 am, the city never truly slept, so it was to be expected that random people on the streets would giggle or stare at the sight of a small drunk woman dragging around a man two times her height, ignoring his pleads of “slow down, you’ll hurt yourself!”.

“leeev!” you whined, (e/c) eyes shining with exaggerated tears as you puffed your rosy cheeks out. lev gulped as he stared into your orbs, a small blush coloring his pale cheeks.

god, you’re so fucking cute.

“i’m hungry! and you won’t let me stop anywhere!” lev sighed as you pouted, adorably stomping your foot on the ground. “(y/n)-chan,” he sighed. “it would be best to get you home and get some sleep, we both know you’re gonna need it.”

you hmphed, crossing your arms as you raised an eyebrow at him. “since when we’re you so mature?” you challenged him, and a blank look overtook his face.

there was silence between the two of you as you never broke eye contact. finally, a wide grin stretched across his face, and you felt your heart flutter at the genuine expression.

your cheeks heated up even more without the help of the liquor running through your system as you took in his handsome features, those emerald eyes seeming to peer right into your soul.

“you’re absolutely right!” he chortled, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. lev slung a long arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side as he began walking you down the street. 

a small squeak left your lips as you were practically shoved into his side, your right arm automatically coming around to wrap around his waist to steady yourself. 

the blush on your face only burned brighter at the close contact, but thankfully, due to his height and the fact that he was looking straight ahead, he couldn’t see the fire pulsing in your cheeks.

and that’s how you both found yourselves at the mcdonald’s. lev continues to smile fondly at you as you ate, even if you were basically devouring the two bags of hashbrown minis and decimating the orange juice. (He offered to buy the food, much to your chagrin.)

it was only when you wiped your mouth free of the evidence from your massacre meal that you looked up and met his eyes.

shock ran down your spine at the pure, unfiltered look of adoration and love that was in his eyes, and that familiar blush made its home on your face again.

lev must’ve seen your eyes widen, but didn’t connect it to being concerned with him, because a small laugh made its way past his lips as he reached across the table and wiped away a stray piece of hashbrown you must’ve missed from the corner of your mouth.

“i’m gonna guess you’re still hungry?” he teased, hand still hovering by your face. you don’t know what it was, maybe the alcohol still buzzing in your system, or maybe it was the warmth in his eyes that made you feel safe, but you just hummed as you nuzzled your face into his palm, a small smile on your lips as you closed your eyes.

emerald eyes widened as you continued to nuzzle your face into his large palm, lips parting in disbelief as his heart ran amok in his chest.

unable to tear his eyes and hand away from you, lev cautiously ran his thumb over your cheek, and your smile grew as you continued to hum at the soothing gesture.

a small smile of his own crossed his lips and lev settled more into his palm as he continued to stroke your cheek. he wanted this moment to last forever, the sight of your blissful face and the softness of your face in his hands was almost too much for his heart to handle.

when he woke up not even two hours ago to pick your drunk ass up, he never imagined it going like this. If only you knew how much he loved you…

the same thought process was running through your head as you felt like you were floating, the warmth from his hand on your cheek sending you into orbit. it would be an injustice to say that you weren’t head over heels for this big goof.

you’ve liked him since he first stepped foot into the gym for practice in your second year, and you’ve loved him since he cried while crushing you into his chest the day you graduated.

your heart swelled at all the happy memories you’ve made with him, and you wanted him to be in your life for as long as he’d let you. suddenly, a brilliant drunk idea popped into your busing mind, and you nearly slapped yourself at your own genius.

just confess already.

sober you is currently rolling in her grave as you open your eyes and locked gazes with the most perfect man you’ve ever seen across from you.

nothing could’ve prepared lev for the words that left your mouth, but his thumb paused on your cheek as his breath caught in his throat.

“i love you, Lev.” that dopey smile still on your plush lips, a faint pinkness on your cheeks that he was almost certain wasn’t from the alcohol that was almost clean from your system.

“wha-” he didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before you cut him off, continuing.

“i’ve liked you since you stumbled into practice one day demanding to be placed on the team,” you giggled, pressing your face further into his frozen hand. “and i’ve loved you since you ruined my makeup at my graduation when you bawled like a baby and refused to let me go.”

another giggle left your lips and lev flushed at the embarrassing memory and looked away to the side, trying not to remember the scolding he got from your mother who had yet to take photos.

“i know i’m not in the best state of mind right now, and i know you might not feel the same about me cause why would you?”

lev whipped his head back to look at you again, shocked that you would say that. his heart throbbed as he saw the sad smile on your face and the tight look on your eyes. why would you ever-

“because i know there are better people out there for you that could make you a million times happier than me, t-that could fit your personality better than i ever could,” tears began forming in your eyes as your lip trembled, but you refused to let them fall.

“but i just wanted to get this off my chest and tell you that i love you so much it hurts, even though i know you don’t love me ba-”

your words never finished because before you knew it, warm, slightly chapped lips were pressed against yours, and a familiar warm hand left your cheek and made its way to the back of your neck to push you more into the kiss.

shocked, you didn’t have time to kiss back before he pulled away, wide eyes staring into sharp emerald, your tears slipping slowly down your cheeks though you didn’t cry.

lev continued to lean across the table as he cupped both of your cold cheeks in his hands, thumbs brushing your skin soothingly as he stared into your eyes, determination shining through them.

“there is no one, and i mean no one, who could possibly compare to you, (y/n).” he declared with such confidence that you couldn’t help but nod dumbly. 

“i’ve crushed on you since the first day of practice, and when the team found out they gave me hell every day for it, but i couldn’t bring myself to confess because i didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

the sheepish smile that spread across his face as he continued to look into your eyes made the love in his green orbs so much more tangible it made your heart stutter. “hearing that you love me back after all these years is such a relief, i feel like i could die.”

a small snort made its way past your lips, and lev couldn’t help but chuckle with you.

“please don’t think even for a second that someone could complete me more than you. i’d rather kill myself than chose someone other than you.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from frowning before reaching up and smacking him lightly upside his head, a whine leaving his lips as he pouted at you.

“don’t say stupid shit like that!” you scolded as he brought his face closer to yours. your heart began beating erratically as his face neared yours again, his lips almost brushing yours as his words were whispered against your flesh. “can’t help it if it’s true.”

when his lips pressed against yours again, you were ready this time. you kissed him back in earnest, desperately trying to pour all these years worth of restrained love into it, to make up for the lost time. 

lev responds with the same enthusiasm, his left hand trailing down your side before squeezing into your soft waist, startling a gasp out of you.

quickly, his tongue darted into your mouth before tangling with yours. you both fought for dominance, tongues thrashing and slidding against one another as you simply took in the taste of each other.

 the need for air became too much and you separated, panting as you tried to regain your breath. lev fell back into his seat as he panted, his eyes never leaving yours.

you both sat there for a minute, trying to regain your bearings. once your breaths evened out, and the color of your cheeks returned to normal, you both busted out laughing as he reached across to intertwine your fingers together, your hand engulfed by his.

“so…” he began, nonchalantly running his thumb over your knuckles as he rested his cheek in his palm again, eyes twinkling in the city lights.

you laughed before mirroring his pose, an impish smile on your lips as you stared at this devastatingly gorgeous man you now got to call yours. “so…” you parroted back.

“together forever?” 

a chuckle.

“together forever.”

[malereaderoneshots]

Annoyance ; Kim Doyoung

Requested?: Yes, “Iwant to req male reader and doyoung. Doyoung popular student and used to being chased by other students, but not reader, reader didn't really care for popular students. Reader once help Doyoung (i don't know help on what, maybe from falling like those kind of scene on drama? 🤣) And Doyoung misunderstood and think reader like him. Doyoung then keep bothering reader and reader find it annoying. Blablabla happy ending” Pairing: Kim Doyoung x Male Reader Word Count: 986

Stereotypes wasn't a thing Y/N paid attention to. Until he accidently became one.

Y/N wasn't much of a talker, he wasn't particularly shy he could just never be bothered to talk to his classmates. So, to say Doyoung sliding up to lean against the locker beside Y/N to flaunt himself surprised him would be an understatement. "So, Y/N, how was your weekend?" He chirped giving an award-winning smile making Y/N feel slightly uncomfortable. "Fine?" Y/N replied and closed his locker turning to walk to class, Doyoung pushed off of the locker he was leaning against and walked side by side with Y/N who kept his stare straight ahead.

Doyoung was popular, had been since middle school, he always had a flock of girls surrounding him like squirrels with a bird feeder. Doyoung never paid much attention to the girls around him. Y/N once joked with his friend that Doyoung might be gay, but with how perfect his attendance and grades were everyone just assumed that his schedule was too busy to allow any high school romances. However, that didn't stop some girls from trying. "I'm having a party on Saturday. I hope you're there." A girl giggled from in front of Y/N. He looked up to see Doyoung walking down the stairs in front of him with a gaggle of girls around him, still the boy never even gave her a glance. Y/N had just zoned out again when someone in front of him swore loudly and without thinking Y/N reached forward and grabbed someone before shifting his weight backwards and dragging the person down with him. Y/N landed on the stairs with a thump and then the air was knocked from his lungs as the person on top made their impact. All Y/N knew was that his back hurt and that people around them were whispering harshly. Shaking his head and groaning Y/N felt the weight on his chest lift so he sat up and looked at the person he might have saved, he came face to face with a very shocked and red face. "Doyoung!" The older boy spluttered, standing up and fixing his uniform his arms stuttering out unsure about if he should help the boy up or run away and transfer schools. Doyoung took Y/Ns outstretched hands but collapsed into the taller boys’ chest when he put weight on his foot. "He's twisted his ankle." Someone called out. Y/N couldn’t hear them over the ringing of his ears, his collar suddenly felt a little tight. From beside him Y/Ns friend lightly shoved his shoulder and said lowly enough for Y/N to hear, "Take him to the nurse’s office, don’t just stand there!" Y/N slowly turned his head to look at his friend with wide eyes and a gaped mouth. From below Doyoung cleared his throat still leaning all his weight on Y/N. He swallowed the lump in his throat before wrapping an arm around Doyoungs back and the other arm under his knees and hoisted him up without thinking, Doyoung gasped and wrapped an arm around Y/Ns neck to support himself and stared at the other boys’ face which was slowly growing red.

That incident happed a couple months ago and since then Doyoung found every chance to slide up to him and try to talk. Wherever Y/N went Doyoung would slide up a couple minutes later and people were beginning to talk which was annoying and making Y/N feel uncomfortable. Y/N was sat against the wall behind the school when he heard a familiar whistle, groaning internally Y/N threw his head back and began packing his bags. "Y/N!" the voice called out, picking up his pace Y/N stood and began walking away put the person caught up and linked his arms with Y/N. "Doyoung." Y/N greeted trying to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Doyoung let go of his arm and jumped in front of Y/N blocking his path. "What's the matter with you?" Doyoung asked tilting his head to the side, for once Y/N met his gaze. "You." He said a bit aggressively causing the smaller boy to take a step back. Y/N groaned and wiped his hand down his face and letting it sit on the back of his neck. "I'm sorry," he sighed, "I don't know what you want from me but I'm sorry I caused you to twist your ankle, but I'm not special so you don’t have to ruin my life." Looking up Y/N noticed the confusion make its way onto Doyoungs face. "I-I don’t want to ruin your life?" Y/N felt his heart drop at the almost heartbroken look on Doyoungs face. "Then why do you keep following me around?" Now it was Doyoungs turn to blush as he scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat. "I actually…I-I thought you liked me as well." Y/Ns eyes widened. "As well?!?" he raised his eyebrows so fast they almost flew off of his face, Doyoung continued to look down and played with some rocks under his foot. "I'm sorry." Doyoung muttered turning to leave.

Y/N panicked and grabbed Doyoungs upper arm and pulled him back, Doyoung stubbled back and collided with Y/Ns chest causing the boys to fall back. Y/N hit the floor hard and let out a yelp as Doyoung fell against him. Doyoung chuckled, "Is this how you pick up people?" Y/N stuttered and gently put his hands on Doyoungs shoulders. "I've never been in a relationship." He muttered shyly, avoiding Doyoungs eyes. Doyoung looked at him with surprise then bit his lip. "Maybe…I mean if you would like to of course, go on a date with me?" Then quickly added, "so we can get to know each other better instead of me following and annoying you." Y/N shyly smiled and tucked his head into the younger boys’ shoulder, Doyoung felt himself melt a bit as Y/N said, "I would like that."

[s3ungyoun]

❝my eyes want you more than a melody❞ [single dad!seungwoo x reader]

genre: smut, fluff (?)

warnings: explicit language + content, age gap, unprotected sex, it’s kinda soft ngl 

word count: 4.4k

a/n (please read 😭): sorry for being so inactive!! exams + personal issues have been killing me lately. i’ve been sitting on this au idea for a couple months and i finally finished it so i wanted to post!! comments and feedback are greatly appreciated. i feel like this has a lot of unnecessary build-up until the smut which i usually don’t do, so pls let me know if u like it this way or not <3 ty pls enjoy

Seungwoo was untouchable.

Disregarding the fact that he was sinfully attractive and unbearably kind (aka, way out of your league) — he also just happened to be the dad of the child you babysat most weeknights. Harboring a crush on an actual father was not exactly ideal, yet you somehow managed it anyways. 

It was the little things, really, such as the way he would ask you to stay for dinner in his honey-like voice, or how his long, slender fingers looked as he ran them through his hair, rousing it in the process. Or maybe even the way he would always give his son a goodnight kiss, melting your heart as you wished he would give you one too.

“What are your plans for tonight?” your friend Yohan asked, snapping you out of your reverie. 

“Hmm? Oh, I’m watching Dongpyo.”

At that Yohan let out a slight chuckle, leaning back in his chair and mockingly raising his brow at you. Your crush on Seungwoo was painstakingly obvious to everyone except for him and Dongpyo (which you constantly thanked god for, seeing as the child couldn’t go a day without running his mouth). Seungwoo and Yohan were close family friends, and Yohan had actually assisted you in getting the job — unable to watch Dongpyo himself due to his busy schedule. Being a broke college student, the job was practically magical; the pay good and hours more flexible than other jobs available to those your age. Which was exactly why Seungwoo was so untouchable. You needed this job, and the thought of ruining it over a simple crush haunted you through every interaction. 

“The fact that Seungwoo-hyung hasn’t noticed obsession with him yet still amazes me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, glaring at him. “I’m not that obvious.”

“You look at him like you want to get railed.”

“And? I do.”

Yohan scrunches his nose up in disgust. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.” 

-- 

Picking up Dongpyo from school was something you enjoyed immensely. The walk home was spent with the 7-year-old ranting about his day, whether good or bad, and you nodding your head as if you totally agreed that his classmate, Minhee, was selfish for stealing his crackers during snack time — or whatever petty drama elementary students dealt with. 

Today, Dongpyo had gotten in trouble for talking back to his teacher, and you couldn’t help but coo at his pouty expression, reaching out to pat his head in sympathy. 

“Just follow her orders next time. Then you won’t get put in time out.”

“You don’t understand!” he whined, shaking his little fists. “She was wrong, I just wanted to correct her! She’s so mean to me.”

Chuckling, you turn to grab the child’s hand as you both cross the street, soon arriving to his and Seungwoo’s apartment building. Dongpyo switched the subject as you rode up the elevator, now telling you about Hyeongjun’s epic birthday party. This was the best part of your day — bonding with Dongpyo. While Yohan and Hangyul assumed you only liked the job for the perk of talking to Seungwoo, you did genuinely enjoy his son’s company. Not only was he adorable, but funny and warm-hearted as well, all traits you assumed he inherited from his father. 

The apartment itself was clean and sleek. While you had initially been surprised at the size of it, you quickly learned that Seungwoo’s job, whatever it was, paid quite well. 

Despite the apartment’s organization, Dongpyo’s toys still occasionally littered the floor, and you were careful not to accidentally step on a lego or break one of his precious toy cars. On days he felt especially active he would ask you to play with him, but for the most part he studied and stared at his iPad.

You were grateful for his low maintenance. Even though Seungwoo was gracious enough to work with your class schedule, you still arrived home late, leaving you barely any time to complete your assignments. Sometimes you wished the job was a little more demanding, Seungwoo a little harsher — because maybe then you wouldn’t feel the way you do.

--

Seungwoo arrived home a couple minutes earlier than usual that day, and you perked your head up at the sound of keys jingling in the lock, Dongpyo excitedly jumping up from his place on the couch to run towards the door. 

“Daddy!” he yelled, bouncing up and down while waving his arms as a signal for Seungwoo to pick him up. The father complied, his previously weary eyes sparkling in delight as Dongpyo nuzzled his face into his chest. 

“Was he good today?” Seungwoo asked.

“Well...” you began, glancing at Dongpyo. Noticing the pleading look on his face, you quickly changed your expression. “He was great! As always.”

Even if Dongpyo had decided to act up, you never quite felt like telling Seungwoo — seeing the smile come off his face as he solemnly disciplined his child broke your heart more than you wanted to admit. That, mixed with Dongpyo’s unresistable pout, usually kept him out of trouble. 

Seungwoo smiled. “Of course he was, I’m sure you keep him in check anyways. You don’t want to bother our precious babysitter, do you Dongpyo?”

Your face flushed, color lighting up your cheeks as Dongpyo giggled in agreement. “Y/N is the best!”

“Mm, she is, isn’t she?”

Letting out a slight chuckle, you pick up your things, simultaneously wanting to go yet dreading having to leave. Seungwoo puts Dongpyo down and turns towards you.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” he asks, and you feel your heart leap a little. Dinners with Seungwoo weren’t extremely common, yet he did invite you to stay every once in a while It was rare that you took up on his offer, however, too worried you might embarrass yourself in some way that would haunt you for the remainder of your life. Besides, you were busy as well. 

“Ah,” you looked down. “I actually have a lot to do. Thank you, though!”

A flicker of disappointment flashed upon Seungwoo’s face, but he was quick to mask his dismay, nodding and wishing you farewell as you walked out the door. 

There were few sensations in the world that made you feel breathless, as if you were peacefully falling; a moment of tranquility yet exhilaration. Seungwoo smiling was one of them.

--

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” Hangyul suggested, thumb scrolling through his twitter feed as he laid haphazardly across your couch.

“Yeah, Seungwoo-hyung is nice. He’s not going to fire you for having a crush on him.” Yohan agreed.

Whining, you scowled at them. “How do I even approach that? ‘Hey, father of the child I’m currently making sure doesn’t die, I think you’re hot.’ No, that’s stupid. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“That’s kinda good actually. Brief, but gets the message across. Maybe don’t reiterate the fact that you babysit his kid, though.”

“Wait,” Hangyul interjects. “I have an even better idea.”

“Which is?” you prompt.

“I’ll make a shirt that says ‘Please Fuck Me.” You can wear it next time you go over.”

“Ooh,” Yohan exclaims. “Subtle. I like it.”

You throw a pillow at them. 

--

It was Monday, and Dongpyo seemed to be even more talkative than usual on the walk home. You zoned out slightly, occasionally nodding and mumbling one-word responses as Dongpyo continuously blabbered. In a way, you felt bad, but you had too much on your mind to listen to the seven-year-old complain about his teacher — no matter how adorable he was.

Dongpyo, however, sensed your wavering attention, tugging on your jeans while pouting slightly.

“Y/N,” he whined.

“Yes?” you asked, finally looking at him.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Eyes widening comically, you laughed while crouching down to his level. “No, I don’t. But why would you ask that?”

His pout turned into a smirk. To be frank, you were quite scared of Dongpyo at times — despite his innocent face, he always seemed to be planning something. “Well, Daddy said you were pretty, and Uncle Wooseok told me that when you think someone’s pretty, it’s because you like them.”

“I don’t think your dad said that, Dongpyo.”

“It’s true!” He yelled defensively. “Daddy thinks you’re pretty!”

Standing up, you reach to press the elevator button, ready for the conversation to be over as you head up to Seungwoo’s place. “Whatever you say.”

The walk into Seungwoo’s apartment is met with cries of indignation from Dongpyo, the younger still upset by the fact that you don’t believe him. Rolling your eyes, you shush him, hands coming up to rub at your temples. Your head had started to hurt due to the loudness of Dongpyo’s yells, each hour passing by slowly as you attempted to finish a paper due the next day despite Dongpyo’s words still ringing in your mind. Lying was not something he partook in. While the child did have a big mouth, everything he said was true to a certain extent.

Soon enough, Seungwoo is unlocking the door, Dongpyo jumping up and repeating the same scene that had occurred only days ago. It was heartwarming, really, how much the two loved each other. Basking in the affection in front of you, you completely forgot about Dongpyo’s words from earlier — until he decided to blurt it out.

“Daddy, you said Y/N was pretty, right?” 

“I—,” Seungwoo blinked, startled. “Where is this coming from?”

Blushing again, you were quick to stammer out a response, internally thinking of ways to escape the situation. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer him, he was just saying nonsense earlier—”

“She doesn’t believe me! I told her you said it, and she doesn’t believe me! Tell her I’m not lying, please.”

“Dongpyo,” Seungwoo sighed. “Why don’t you go to your room and play with the new toy I bought you, hmm?”

“But daddy—”

“Go.” He said sternly, watching as Dongpyo stomped down the hallway, lightly slamming his door in protest. 

Stuttering, you motion towards the door, slowly getting up. “Um, I think— I think I should go now, see you tomorrow?”

He focused his gaze on you, smiling faintly when he noticed the blush on your face. “I’m sorry about Dongpyo, he really has no filter sometimes.”

“Oh,” you said. “Don’t worry about it. Kids just have a good imagination.” 

“He wasn’t lying.”

This — this was where the lines truly blurred. Sure, Seungwoo had always been overwhelmingly kind, and at times a bit touchy, but he had never been so blatant before. There were moments of uncertainty, moments in which you wondered whether or not he felt the same way. Of course, you still weren’t sure, but you were at least aware of the fact that he thought you were pretty. And that simple statement was enough to keep locked in both your heart and mind for days or weeks on end, only opening the vault when you felt like further exploring your supposedly delusional fantasies.

You’re quick to leave after that, using the excuse of your paper as you practically run out the door. Once in the elevator, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

--

Maybe, just maybe you were a bit more delusional after what had happened. But when Seungwoo invited you to stay over for dinner that Friday, you didn’t deny him. 

The dinner itself was good, and Dongpyo talked throughout the whole ordeal, excitedly chattering about the field trip his school had taken that day. You couldn’t exactly pay attention to the food or Dongpyo, however, too flustered by Seungwoo’s constant stare. At first, you were worried that you had accidentally gotten something on your face, but after a quick trip to the bathroom, you determined that he was simply staring for no reason — staring at you.

As the night calmed down and Dongpyo went to bed, you were almost scared of what Seungwoo was going to do. Clearly, he had something to say — or he wouldn’t have stared at you like that. But what exactly was it? Had he found out about your crush? Were you going to be fired? Your stomach churned anxiously at the last question, fingers toying with the rips in your jeans as you sat on the couch, waiting for Seungwoo to return from Dongpyo’s bedroom. 

“Sorry about the wait,” he said as he sat down next to you. “Dongpyo wanted me to read him a bedtime story.”

You internally cooed, your mind immediately picturing the scene: a tired Dongpyo, desperately clinging onto his father as Seungwoo’s eyes filled with adoration, laying him down and—

Snap out of it, you reminded yourself, instead attempting to focus on what new jobs you could apply for when you got home. Maybe a barista?

“So,” Seungwoo started. “I wanted to talk about Monday, but I haven’t gotten the chance without you running out the door.” At that sentence he chuckled nervously, seeming almost as apprehensive as you. 

You gulped.

“I’m sorry if my comment made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention, and I’m fully aware that it’s not my place to say things of that nature to someone who—well, someone who watches my kid.”

“It didn’t,” you stammered, “It didn’t make me feel uncomfortable or anything. I was just, surprised? I guess. I don’t really expect someone like you to think someone like me is pretty.”

He glanced into your eyes, fingers reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of your face. They finally settle on your cheek, and as his thumb strokes your chin, it feels like the air is being sucked out of your lungs, your chest constricting with each movement. “Y/N, you’re very pretty. You’re beautiful. If you weren’t so young and Dongpyo’s babysitter, I would—,” he stops. “Well, that’s not important.”

“You would what?” you implore, subconsciously scooting closer.

His eyes lazily drop down to your lips, and you’re certain that he can hear how fast your heart’s beating. Uncertainty lingers slightly in the air, clouding the mood and making you briefly wonder if this was a good idea — if this was going to ruin everything. You have hardly any time to be nervous, however, as Seungwoo is quick to close the gap between the two of you, molding your lips together. 

It wasn’t rushed nor heated, quick nor sloppy. It seemed to be a perfect meld of everything that is Seungwoo. From the way his fingertips gently combed through your hair, the way his other hand had settled protectively at your hip, or the faint aroma you caught of his cologne — everything somehow pieced itself together to portray his want, to portray the ache he had felt after pining for you all these months. 

You’re the first to pull away, breathing slightly laboured as you both stare at one another, each waiting for someone to speak. You’re not sure why, but every doubt you’ve ever had, every single moment of regret you’ve faced, has somehow been released into your mind. As if a dam had burst, you’re quick to jump up from your spot on the couch, refusing to look Seungwoo in the eye as you hastily took your leave.

You had fucked up.

--

“So, just to make sure,” Yohan said. “He said you were pretty, kissed you, and then you left?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.” 

“Are you fucking stupid?”

You let out an indistinguishable groan, words muffled by your pillow. “Clearly.” 

“I don’t understand your thought process. The man you haven’t shut up about for the past year basically tells you he likes you back, so your first thought is to ghost him?” 

“It’s not that simple!” You yell defensively, strangely resembling Dongpyo in the way you whine.

Yohan sighs in annoyance. “Explain then! What’s not simple about it?”

“First of all, he has a whole child. He’s also a lot older. 

“He’s not even 30.”

“Still! I’m probably too immature for him.”

“Doesn’t he get to make that decision though?” Yohan asks. “If he thought you were too immature for him, he probably wouldn’t like you in the first place.”

Grumbling, you turn to face him, face adorned with a scowl. “Can you stop being annoyingly right for one second? God, it’s suffocating.”

Yohan shakes his head. “If him being a single father bothers you, don’t do anything. But I know you. You love Dongpyo, and you obviously like Seungwoo-hyung too. If the only thing holding you back from pursuing this is the fear that he won’t like you, then, well, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But I kinda already messed everything up, don’t you think?”

“Seungwoo-hyung’s more forgiving than you think. He’s probably just as confused and anxious as you, wondering what he did wrong.”

The gears are slowly turning in your head as you calculate when you can talk to Seungwoo next. It was a long weekend, meaning Dongpyo had gone off to see his mother, and you were off work until Tuesday. While you weren’t quite sure of Seungwoo’s work schedule on the weekend, you still mustered up the courage to go and visit his apartment anyways, Yohan’s words lingering in the back of your mind. 

Tension radiates off your body as the elevator slowly climbs to Seungwoo’s floor. A small voice in the back of your head tells you that this is a bad idea, that it will only result in heartbreak and tears and having to find a new job. But there’s a bigger part of you, a part that is simultaneously fueled by your heart and whatever words of encouragement Yohan managed to give you — and that part leads you to Seungwoo’s door, it leads you to raise your fist and knock on it, and it leads you to step inside. There’s no turning back now, no excuses or hasty exits. Instead, it is you and Seungwoo, finally alone.

He’s the first to break the silence, offering you a drink as you tells you to sit down. You politely decline, making yourself comfortable on his couch, mind reeling back to the events that took place on it a mere two days ago. 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, it was wrong of me to do so. If you no longer want to work here I understand, and I’m sorry for overstepping any boundaries. I just— I guess I just read the moment wrong, and I’m sorry for that.”

“Seungwoo,” you said softly. “You don’t have to apologize, I kissed you back. I guess I was just a bit overwhelmed with...everything. I like you, I really do. And I’m sorry if you don’t feel that way, if you just felt like kissing me for no reason and you don’t want me to work for you anymore. But—”

He cuts you off. “Y/N, I do want you to stop working for me.”

“Oh.”

“B-but not because I’m mad or uncomfortable or anything,” he laughs nervously, scratching at the back of his head. “I like you too. But that’s kinda hard when you’re, well, my employee.” 

“Are you firing me?” you ask teasingly.

“Do you want to be fired?”

“I want you to keep liking me.”

“Well then, yes, you’re fired.”

Giggling, you bat your eyelashes at him, “Can I at least get a goodbye kiss, then?” 

The kiss is heated this time, Seungwoo’s lips fervently pressing against yours as both of his hands trace your hip bones, moving slightly up and down your lower body. Yours are quick to mold themselves into his hair, gripping softly while his tongue coaxes your mouth open. Urgency is replaced by passion, and any hesitation is swallowed with every movement Seungwoo makes. Slowly, he lays you back against the couch, hovering over your flushed body as he continues his ministrations.

You’re the first to push things further, legs spreading out in order for Seungwoo to situate himself between them, the older man practically enveloping your entirety. As if they have a mind of their own, your hips bucked up to meet Seungwoo’s, a strained moan leaving his mouth at the contact. He’s quick to reciprocate, grinding down into you like a touch-starved highschooler. It’s almost sweet, the notion that you can turn Seungwoo into a groaning mess. But you suppose he has the same effect on you. 

Pulling back, he begins to leave soft kisses on your neck, biting softly when you let out a sigh of encouragement. There’s no doubt you’ll have marks the next morning, but at that moment, you can’t find it in yourself to care. 

Soft kisses and nips soon trail further down until he reaches your chest, Seungwoo immediately looking up at you for consent to continue. You nod, but he seems dissatisfied by this, shaking his head while letting out a hum of disapproval.

“Use your words, princess,” he orders.

“Please, Seungwoo. I want you to touch me.”

“Where do you want me to touch you, sweetheart?”

“Anywhere,” you whine. “Just please.”

He smirks at this, fingers tugging at the edge of your shirt as he lifts it off, unbuckling your bra as well. You’re a bit embarrassed — being so exposed — but the anxiety is quickly washed away by his awestruck gaze, Seungwoo leaning back up to resume kissing you as his hand gropes your breast, relishing in your gasps of pleasure when he lightly pinches your perked nipple. His other hand focuses on undoing your pants, making quick work of the buttons and zipper. 

The two of you briefly break apart in order for Seungwoo to take off your jeans as you almost rip away his shirt. If you were to look in on the both of you, it would seem as if you were starved — two lovers reunited after a painstaking absence. Instead, you were simply hollow, desperately clawing at the other for a sense of love and passion.

And indeed, you both found what you were looking for.

Both of you were stripped down to your underwear, yet no hasty movements were made. It was that moment again — that moment of tranquility yet exhilaration. The moment that was only ignited by Seungwoo’s smile, by Seungwoo’s voice, by Seungwoo. And right now, it was being ignited by the feeling of his fingers delicately tracing your core, your panties practically soaked with each circular motion. Slowly, he pulls your underwear down, tossing them across the room somewhere. Digits circling your hole, Seungwoo pushes one finger in, taking delight in the wanton moan that escapes your lips. 

“More,” you beg, hips moving to meet the thrust of his hand.

Seungwoo complies, pushing in another finger and attempting to scissor your open. The movement of your hips becomes more desperate when he adds a third, and you’re quick to warn him of your impending orgasm.

“S-stop,” you tell him shakily.

He pulls his fingers out, worriedly glancing up at you to make sure you’re not in pain. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”

Shaking your head, you point to his hard length pressed against your thigh, practically throbbing with need. “No, just wanna come with you inside me.”

At your statement he smirks, thumbs hooking around the waistband of his underwear and pulling them off. Your eyes widen slightly at his size, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Seungwoo, who leans down and kisses you ardently again, hands taking hold of your thighs in order to spread your legs apart and position himself between them.

Gripping the base of his cock, Seungwoo rubs the head against your folds, collecting your wetness while effectively teasing you. 

“Oh my god,” you whine. “Just fuck me already.” 

With that, he thrusted into you. The stretch was slightly painful at first, but Seungwoo had accommodated for it accordingly, giving you a second to adjust before he pulled almost all the way out, plunging his hips into yours again. Your breasts bounced with each snap of his hips, hands reaching out in hopes of finding something to grab onto you. Seungwoo notices this, intertwining his hands with yours with a look of both adoration and lust. 

“You feel so good wrapped around me, princess.”

You could only moan in acknowledgment, your brain foggy and disoriented from the pleasure. Releasing one of your hands, Seungwoo reached down to rub your clit, causing you to clench around him.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “You’re so tight.”

“Seungwoo, faster,” you whimpered, close to reaching your high.

His hips seemed to move at double the speed, drilling into you while you babbled incoherently, letting out small praises and loud gasps. Everything was overwhelming in a good way, each one of your senses being overcome by Seungwoo’s movements. His brow furrowed in concentration, and you could tell that he was close too, leading you to purposely clench around him. 

“Don’t, ‘m gonna come.”

“Me too,” you said, clenching again. His thrusts became sloppy, fingers lazily circling your clit as you both rode out your highs. The sound of labored breathing and racing pulses filled the room as the two of you basked in the afterglow, only breaking apart once Seungwoo pulled out and a light squeal of sensitivity was heard from you. He stood up, leaving to grab a warm washcloth and returning with fresh clothes. 

Sighing, he looks down, “We probably shouldn’t have done this on the couch.”

You let out a giggle, smiling warmly at him as he cleaned you up and dressed you, ensuring that you were fully comfortable before laying down again, positioning you to lay on top of his chest.

“You don’t regret anything, right?” he implores, anxiously gnawing at his bottom lip.

“No,” you affirm. “I told you I liked you, didn’t I?”

“Mmm, you’re right. It’s settled then, right?”

You look up at him curiously. “What exactly is being settled?” 

“That we like each other. That you no longer work for me. That— that I want you to be mine.”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him. “It’s settled.”

Letting out a sigh of content, he visibly relaxes. “Good.”

“But, who’s going to babysit Dongpyo now?”

“Hmm,” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head. “You should do it for free as my girlfriend, don’t you think?”

You could probably get used to that.

[witchkings]

The One Engagement Ring

An Angbang Modern AU drabble as prompted by the lovely @darklord <3

Three seconds. Barely any time at all. Negligible in the greater scheme of Mairon’s life, nothing to the ever-advancing flow of the universe, miniscule, dismissible, stupid. Three seconds was all it had taken to ruin Mairon’s picture book life. Melkor would kill him.

These were the facts as Mairon had them:

1.       He’d slipped into the bathroom at the university library for a short piss and to get a minute of quiet in the constant chatter of his study group which was spiralling head-first into a discussion about the meaning of life. Even though they were anthropology graduate students with at least half the group minoring in either philosophy or sociology, this was never a good idea.

2.       When he’d been in the stall, his engagement ring had still gleamed golden on his ring finger, a constant, warm reminder of the grand day to come. Mairon had planned an autumn wedding, complete with matching tuxes, a seven-course feast and was already training Draugluin to carry the wedding rings down the aisle with Thuringwethil as his reluctant guardian. Melkor, of course, would have preferred for them to pop into Vegas and have some drunken fat Elvis proclaim them married, or better yet, simply hand in the necessary paper work on his way to the office, but Mairon was having none of that. If for one day in his life he wanted to feel special, be marvelled at and fawned over, it was going to be this day, his accursed father be damned.

3.       After completing his business, he’d slipped the ring off and into his pocket to wash his hands. He wouldn’t chance it being dulled by hard water or rough soap. Mairon always did it like this, only putting the piece of jewellery back on whenever his hands were dry and spotless, but when he’d made to retrieve it, his pocket had been empty.

4.       There’d been two other people on the bathroom with him and he couldn’t remember whether they’d ever come near him at all, but their childish faces, curly heads, and mischievous giggles could only mean one thing: freshmen.

5.       For three seconds between drying his hands and reaching for the ring, Mairon had leaned over the sink and inspected his own face. The stress of upcoming exams together with his thesis‘ due date drawing ever nearer gave him red spots along his jawline and he’d glared at them to will them away before Melkor picked him up.

Conclusion: As Mairon had been caught up in his own flaws, one or both of those bastards had sidled up to him and stolen the ring out of his pocket without him noticing. This implied many things, for example that the fatigue was getting to Mairon’s mental capacities or that those freshmen were unusually sneaky. Chiefest of all was this though: Melkor had paid half a fortune for that golden band. For Mairon to lose it, well. It would spell disaster.

Mairon glared at himself in the dirt-speckled mirror, bracing himself on the sink. Three seconds, oh he would show those impertinent, stupid, drunkard gnomes what he could do to a person in three seconds. Mairon took a deep breath and marched out of the bathroom, back to the round table his study group occupied. Eönwe and Tilion were at each other’s necks with arguments dissecting Descartes’ meditations while Osse and Uinen had their tongues down each other’s throats with disgusting slobbering noises. No studying to be done here, one of the sodden constants of Mairon’s life. He grabbed his notes and tablet and shoved them into his bagpack with more force than necessary which had Curumo look up from where he had hovered over his mess of tiny handwritten notes. He looked a little like a deer in head-lights, always lost was poor Curumo. Mairon rolled his eyes and tugged at his classmate’s sleeve.

“What?” Curumo whined, reluctant to forgo the last stretch of productivity he illusioned himself with, but he was already packing up.

“Come with me,” Mairon replied. “We’re going to hunt down some freshmen.”

After a quick text to Melkor to explain he needn’t be picked up today, Mairon dragged Curumo out of the library. The dismayed reply came seconds later, and Melkor wasn’t at all happy with the excuse of needing to tutor Curumo on their upcoming French test. Melkor and Curumo had never gotten along and if Mairon was honest with himself, he would have ditched Curumo after the first week of the first semester, but sometimes the guy proved useful. Especially because, in spite of his timid disposition, he somehow knew everyone on campus, ranging from the most introverted freshman all the way to the creepy maintenance guy who smelled like he lived in the sewers.

“What for?” Curumo asked. They crossed the student-littered yard, dodging peer-pong balls and caffeine-crazed grad students to the cafeteria where Mairon figured his best bet would be. Freshmen were always hungry, and he had a vague memory of four curly-haired heads positively camping in there at all times, claiming they needed seven meals a day to function.

“They stole something from me,” Mairon muttered, raking his hands through his hair. He’d neglected to trim it to its usual chest length and it was getting quite out of hand, tangling at the lightest breeze. Still better than what Curumo’s mother had done to him over the last holiday, short and ragged so that he looked like Jack Frost.

“What did they steal?”

“My engagement ring.”

“What?” Curumo spluttered, and almost ran into the door, but Mairon held it open in time. Under the pretence of having lunch – Mairon never had university lunch if he could help it, the stuff was vile and Melkor was a great cook if he wanted to be – they both got into line, eyes darting about for the thieves.

Mairon spotted the usual groups as he scanned the perimeter. The musical theatre kids led by a haughty grad student with a harp who had a gazillion brothers around. The nature-loving hippies who smoked too much weed for their own good and gave themselves funny names and pretended to be trees on weekends. The burly punk rockers who rode Harleys and had a kink for arson, Mairon had met their gang head Gothmog in a colloquium once, he wasn’t too bad. Even the naval engineering students who usually spent all their free time down by the beaches to test their self-crafted boats where in attendance, picking at salads and discussing hydraulics. Not a sign of those nasty burglars though.  

The guy behind the counter handed him a tray, and Mairon took it, paying with his student ID chip card before turning back towards the room, just in time to see a pair of dark, curly heads disappear through the swinging doors of the cafeteria, chips trailing after them like crumbs. Mairon dropped his food and took off after them, spitting curses. Curumo, the good dog that he was, mirrored this. They tore out of the cafeteria and down the hallway together.

“Hey,” Mairon screamed. “Hey, stop!” The two freshmen threw hasty glances over their shoulders, hollering as they ran and dodged around students, but Mairon and Curumo were faster, knew these halls better and soon enough, they had the two cornered against a row of blue lockers.

“Now,” Mairon crooned and made to advance on them, but before he could, someone interrupted him. “Now you will repent.”

“Hey, what do you want with them,” he barked and two people stepped into Mairon’s and Curumo’s way, obscuring the goblins from view. They were both jocks, broad-shouldered and bearded, and towered a head over Curumo and Mairon. He knew the blond one, Eomer, an agriculture major, from a finance class they’d both taken as an elective, but he’d never seen the other man before. He was the one who’d spoken and wore a sports shirt of a team Mairon had never heard of. A white tree was their logo and their motto was written in a strange swirl of letters that looked almost Arabic.

“Just a friendly chat,” Mairon said through gritted teeth. “Not to worry.”

“That didn’t sound so friendly to me,” the guy growled and Eomer put a hand on his shoulder, nodding. His scowl deepened and his eyes burned, staring daggers into Mairon’s.

“Weren’t you that condescending guy at the back of Accounting 101 who called everyone peasants?” he asked and Mairon sighed inwardly. One bad day to haunt him. Or well, a whole semester of bad days, but who was counting anyway? Melkor had been abroad for that time and Mairon had suffered terribly.

“Why do you even care?” Mairon asked, and Curumo put a warning hand to his arm. It wasn’t unlikely that he’d seen these two beat someone up at some frat party before, but Mairon wasn’t intimidated by such mundane things as physical violence.

“Because they’re our friends,” the second jock growled, crossing his arms over his chest. It was hard not to laugh, these fully grown men proclaiming themselves friends of two troublemakers who weren’t even legally adults yet.

“Look, guys,” Curumo said quietly. “Merry and Pippin stole something very valuable from my friend here and he is rather upset about it.”

Eomer bared his teeth, but the other guy whirled around to stare at the two thieves in question who were huddled against the lockers, but silently giggling amongst themselves.

“Is this true?” he asked, and the tone of his voice implied he knew already. Helpless or not, they probably had a reputation for mischief-making.

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” one of them said with a thick accent.

“You said it yourself,” the other added, “he is a condescending ass.”

“Boys.”

“Boromir.”

“Enough,” Mairon hissed and pushed through the two jocks and bore down on the freshmen, holding out his empty palm. “You give me back my ring or I will make your lives here a living nightmare. You can hire as many football players and wannabe wrestlers as you want, I am very good friends with the dean, I have more than enough money to bribe every professor in the state to bully you and my boyfriend will beat every last one of your bodyguards to a pulp. Is that clear?”

Merry and Pippin stared at him, their facial muscles contorting in a series of impossible expressions, torn between laughing and crying. They settled for blankness and, at last, Pippin handed over the ring. It was smudged with grease from his fingers and Mairon pulled out a linen handkerchief to polish it with.

“I’m sorry, they’re still not used to their actions having consequences,” Boromir sighed and Eomer nodded sternly.

“Whatever,” Mairon said with half a shrug and he stalked off the scene, leaving Curumo to deal with the polite formalities or whatever the situation demanded. He had his ring back, he could call Melkor to get him after all, he would get laid tonight while all these losers were busy with their parties and teenager friends and studying until their eyes bled. It was not ten minutes later that Mairon was comfortably tucked into Melkor’s Chevrolet, the heated seat warming his ass-cheeks.

“Have a nice day?” Melkor grumbled, not taking his eyes off the parking lot around them. Mairon leaned over and pressed a kiss to the corner of his beloved’s mouth.

“Nothing special,” he replied and leaned into the backrest. “Nothing special at all.” The ring glinted in the low-afternoon sun and everything was as it should be.

[rae-is-typing]

Scars

Original request from @sorrybutimtrying: Can you do one where Chris Evans or Paul Rudd meets a fan, sees her scars and tries to help her. Or something like that

Description: You win one of those contests where you and some other people get to meet and fraternize with a celebrity. This time, it’s Paul Rudd. He notices something you wished he hadn’t.

Characters: reader, original female and male characters (Sophia the Marvel person, Olivia the other teen girl, and a lot of unnamed men and women), Paul Rudd

Warnings: swearing, implied self-harm, self-harm scars, being sexually harassed at work, mentioned cat calling

Word count: 3.8k

See Ant-Man three weeks early, hang out with the one and only Paul Rudd, play laser tag, and pizza together on an all expenses paid trip to LA! Enter now! 12 lucky fans will be chosen. Entries close in three hours. 

You take a moment to stop scrolling. Your heart speeds up; it always does when opportunities arise. You always apply, but you never win. Glancing at the clock, you see you still have ten minutes on break. 

What the heck, might as well enter. There's nothing to lose. 

Entering takes the rest of your break. You were asked questions, and had to enter your phone number and email address a few times. You submit your entry as soon as your break ended. Sighing, you push yourself to your feet. Back to serving customers and getting yelled at by your manager. 

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

Life gets hard and you completely forget that you ever entered in the first place. 

You aren't proud of what you do to cope. Hell, you've managed to stop doing it completely for a few months. But sometimes it's so hard. Too hard to do anything else. 

You don't show off your scars. By sticking to long sleeve shirts, concealer, and strategically placed bracelets, you can easily make it seems like there are a few birthmarks on your wrists instead anything self-inflicted. 

Unfortunately, you can't afford to see a professional. Both you and your mother are working multiple jobs so you can eat and have a place to live. Deep down, you know you should tell her. Deep down, you want to tell her. But you can't bring yourself to. It'll only stress her out. Between two jobs and going back to school to finish her degree, you don’t want to bring her more stress. But your always hopeful for the day where she'd be able to help you through your hard days. 

Speaking of hard days, you hate being a waitress. You work in a particularly sleazy part of town where the guys like to call out anything resembling a female body. Walking down the street brings you one cat call after another, and waitressing isn't any better. You get called every pet name under the sun. Sweetie, babe, baby girl, jujubee. Someone even called you, a 16-year-old wearing some of the baggiest clothes imaginable, sugartits. Your manager had fun with him. 

After getting home, you flop on your bed and fight the urge to cry. You made a whopping fifteen dollars in tips that night for working 4 hours, a customer yelled at you for giving them iced tea with ice in it, and a guy started following you home until he got bored. It was not a good night. 

Then your phone starts to ring. Maroon 5 reverberates in your room, simultaneously annoying you and making you feel a tiny bit better. Without looking at the caller ID, you pick up the phone. 

"Hello?" You ask, voice muffled by the pillow your head is still buried in. 

"Hi there! I'm looking for a Y/N Y/L/N." A feminine voice chirps through the phone.

"Yeah, that's me." You roll onto your back so you can speak clearer. 

"Great. My name is Sophia Ramsey, I'm the one organizing the event with Paul Rudd. I'm so excited to let you know that you won! You will be one of twelve to be flown out to LA to meet with him and spend the day with him."

A huge smile tugs at your lips, so much so your face starts to hurt. "What?" You laugh. "Are you serious?"

"I sure am! Some blank documents have been sent to the email you provided in your entry. I need you to fill them out and either fax them to the number listed on them, mail them to the address listed, or scan them and email them to that same email address."

"I-I can totally do that!"

"Now this event is an all expenses paid, so everything will be provided for you. You'll be flown out the day of and flown back home after it ends. It will be held June seventh."

"Thank you so much!"

She laughs at your enthusiasm. "Of course. Once we get those documents we will be organizing your flights. We will be in touch."

"Awesome, wonderful. Thanks so much!"

"You're so welcome. Bye bye now."

You pull the phone away from your ear, sporting a grin that could rival the Cheshire cat himself. You won! You won you won you won! You're going to meet one of your favorite actors!

You pull up your email on your phone immediately. Spotting the email, you skim through the PDFs quickly. Since you're a minor, there are a lot of things your mom has to sign. 

I need to print these. You think, biting your lip. You don't want to wait for the next at school, you want to fill these out now. Grabbing your wallet and apartment keys, you run (yes, run) down to the library that's a few blocks away. A lot of students gather there for studying and the free wifi.

You wave at a few of your classmates, and they nod back. You print the documents off quickly, paying a small fee for the paper, and you run (yes, run) back home. 

You bounce into your apartment, still giddy (and sweaty). 

"Mom! Mom, you'll never guess what happened!" You exclaim upon seeing your mother sitting on the couch in the living room. 

She looks up from the book she was reading with a tired smile. "What happened, sweetie?"

"Remember that thing I entered? That event Marvel was hosting?" You ask, vibrating with excitement. 

"I do."

"I won! I won Mom! I get to meet Paul Rudd!" 

A grin broke out on your mom's face. "Oh, Y/N, that's awesome."

"I know! I have to fill out these documents. Do we have somewhere we can fax things? Do you know how to fax? I don't know how to fax."

She laughs. "I'll teach you how to fax things, don't you worry." 

------

You get everything taken care of the day after. After another call with Sophia, you manage scheduling flights and times for the drivers (you get a driver! how awesome!)

In the weeks leading up to the event, all your extra effort is put into a gift for Paul. You have a knack for art that you don't have much time for anymore. Between school and work, it's also hard to find energy to put into it. 

However, you said 'screw school' and began an art project: a hand-drawn collage of all Paul Rudd's characters, including Ant-Man. It takes all the time leading up to the event, but you manage to make it look amazing. Along with the collage, you write him a letter. You don't believe it to be anything very special, but you hope he will appreciate it. You detail your own struggles and how much looking up to him has helped you. 

Then the day comes.

You barely sleep at all the night before. Adrenaline and an unhealthy amount of caffeine replace any semblance of rest you may have gotten. 

The driver arrives at your apartment at 4:30 AM to take you to the nearest airport. After triple checking your stuff and a quick goodbye with your mom, you're off.

The car is so nice. You have no idea what make or model it is, but you're sure it very expensive. The drive doesn't take a long time; the roads are practically empty and there is little traffic, which is great. 

However, you're left on your own in the airport, which is not great. A lot of zombie-esque people are there, a few crying children, and some drug dogs even joined the party. You bite your lip, scratching at your concealed wrists. It's something you always do when you're nervous. 

You don't have any bags other than a backpack, so you don't need to check anything. Looking around, you try to spot someone that looks like they know what they're doing. You eventually do, and follow them to security.

The line is long, and after moderate hassle with the agents, you're through and on the way to your gate. Once you get there, you closely examine your ticket. First class. Your eyebrows shoot up. The first time you're flying and you get first class. Damn. Okay, you'll take it.

The flight was good: no babies cried, the flight people were all super nice, and you even got the entire row to yourself.

After the flight, you're off to the venue. You meet your new driver at the exit and get to another very expensive looking car. 

LA traffic is everything you've heard and more. The streets are packed, and it takes quite a while for you to get where you're supposed to be. But when you do, it is incredible. 

The building is huge. It's wall to wall one way glass. The sun bounces off the silver accents, almost blinding you. Out of pure impulse, you take a picture. You almost don't believe that you're here. 

After thanking the driver, you hop out of the car and walk into the glass building. The interior is even prettier. 

It's clean, with dark oak floors and chairs and tables lining the wall. A small group of excited people are gathered by a longer table full of stuff. Your anxiety spikes. This is actually happening. You're going to meet one of your heroes and give him some of your art. This cannot be happening. You nails find your wrist again.

After making your way to the small group, they immediately welcome you into the circle. They each introduce themselves for probably the millionth time, and one of them informs you that everyone is here. 

After a few minutes of pure small talk, a woman walks into the lobby area. 

"Hi everyone!" You all turn to her. She's dressed in a red sleeveless blouse, black slacks and high heels. Her face is done up nicely, as is her hair. She stands proudly with a charismatic smile gracing her face."I'm Sophia, the manager of this event. I'm so excited to get started! First things first, we'll start with the meet and greet. Each one of you will get 15 minutes with Paul. After that, there'll be a few games of laser tag, and finally, the screening of the new Ant-Man movie! We at Marvel ask that you keep all the movie details to yourself so everyone can enjoy the movie when it comes out."

Murmurs of agreement spread through the room. 

“If you all follow me, we can get started," Sophia leads the group to a different room. Paul is sitting at a table with an empty chair next to him. 

Excitement spreads through you. He looks so much more real in person, as weird as that sounds. You bite your lip, keeping your mouth shut. Excited calls from the other fans make him smile widely. 

You keep your place near the back, slowly building up courage and thinking out what you're going to say. You certainly don't want to look like an idiot when you meet one of your heroes. 

"Nice bracelets." The voice of a girl pulls you from your thoughts. 

"Oh, thank you." You say, turning to see her. She has short black hair, blue eyes and pale skin. 

"Yeah. I love Panic! At the Disco. Their music is amazing."

"For real, they're so good!"

The two of you share small talk until it's her turn. For twelve people each getting fifteen minutes, time went by very fast. She talks to him excitedly, something that he reciprocates. Another wave of anxiety comes over you. Your heart speeds up, your hands get a little sweaty. Holy shit! You're actually meeting him.You fight the urge to scratch at your wrist.

Finally, it's your turn. 

You go up to the table with an anxious smile on your face. He smiles back. 

"Hi there!" He says. "I'm so glad you won."

"Thank you!" You say, sitting down in the chair. "I actually brought something."

"Oh thank you! That's awesome."

You pull out the small framed collage, placing it on the table with the enveloped letter on top. There's a small stack of stuff on the other side of him. He carefully sets the envelope to the side, now examining the poster. 

"Wow! This is so good!" He exclaims. "Did you draw this?"

You can only nod shyly. 

"This is great, really. Thank you." 

"You're welcome."

The two of you talk for the rest of the time. He signs a couple of things for you, and you take a few pictures. At the end, you want to take a funny selfie for your instagram. While taking the picture, your bracelets slide up your arm. Your heart stops for a split second when you see a fresher scar. You pull back the bracelets immediately, and play it off as soon as possible. 

But it was too late, Paul saw some of the scars. His face falls into something more solemn, concerned almost. He opens his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted. 

"Alright everyone! It is time to move on to the next event."

Paul put a smile on his face, but he gave you a worried glance at you while he stood up. He walks by Sophia as you're led through the building. The interior continued to take your breath away. Postmodern design flooded your sight as everyone crams into an elevator. 

You're taken up a few floors and the elevator opens to a small room with vests and guns attached to said vests. A blank scoreboard hangs proudly above everything. You glance around. Everyone is sporting grins. 

"Let's do girls against boys!" Olivia, the girl you were talking to before, exclaims. 

"You sure?" One of the guys pipes up. "I think there are more guys than girls," 

"There's like one more guy. We should do at least one battle of the sexes." She grins. 

"I'm cool with it," A woman in her mid twenties smirks. 

"Me too," You shrug. More murmurs of agreement spread through the group.

“Alright, suit up everyone. Girls will be red and boys will be green." Sophia says. 

"I will leave you to Ralph, he is our resident lazer tag expert." 

"Alright everyone, your goal is to destroy the other team’s base. You do that by destroying the power supply in the deepest part of the opposing team’s base. It looks like a dinosaur egg off of Jurassic Park, and it lights up. I have a few ground rules. No fighting, no sprinting, no food or drink near the equipment. But most importantly, have fun! There are large towers on each side where you have to charge your gun. Your vest will beep at you when you need to recharge. Good luck. Boys, enter to the left, girls on your right." With Ralph ending his spiel, everyone hustles into the room. 

You follow behind one of your teammates to the back of the base. The room is absolutely massive. There's a large structure running through the middle of the floor with at least four sets of stairs. The supporting poles are lit up by green and red lights. You clutch your gun to your chest. It's not the very first time you're playing laser tag, but it is the first time in a long while. 

You go off on your own, jogging up the stairs on the large structure. You speed walk quietly, ducking behind large foam covers that were spread sporadically throughout the entire floor when you suspect one of the boys had spotted you.You climb to the top. You hold your gun by your thigh, keeping your finger on the trigger. Slowly walking in circles, you try to spot the egg like power supply that Ralph had described on the ground below. 

Suddenly, someone bumped into you. You jump, barely holding back a yelp. 

"Oh, my god. I’m so sorry." Olivia quickly apologized. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, you just scared the shit out of me though," You laugh. 

"I'm sorry... Y/N, right?" 

"Yeah yeah yeah, and you're Olivia, right?"

"Mhm, what are you looking for?"

"I'm trying to find the power supply." 

"Same girl. I think I saw it over there." She says, gesturing to your left. "But I'm not sure."

"Let's go check it out."

The two of you venture to the left, moving as quickly and quietly as before. Soon enough, you're able to spot the power supply through the guard rails. Only one guy is standing guard. You share a small low-five and split up to attack it. 

Olivia jogs down the stairs to ground level and you go to the second floor for better range. 

You crouch close to the floor, poking your gun through the guard rails and wait until you see Olivia come up behind the guard and start shooting. You join her immediately, and together you almost destroy it. However, your gun runs out of charge. 

Cursing under your breath, you jog as fast as you can (almost running) down to a charging base, where you run into Olivia again. 

"Dude, that was fucking crazy." She laughs. "We almost had them."

Laughing breathlessly, you agree. "For real though. We got them this time. Same plan?"

"Hell yeah,"

"What plan?" A new voice cuts in. The woman in her mid twenties pops up out of nowhere. 

"We found their supply. I went low and she went to the second floor. If we have one more person, I think we got this. We'll have to hurry though."

A grin spreads on the woman's face. "Let's do it. I'll head to the first floor on the other side."

The three of you jog together back to the same place as before. You show the woman where to go, then you leave to go up one floor. 

Once again, you start to shoot when Olivia does. The woman joins in soon after. 

You hear the guards frustrated cries as he tries to fend off all three of you at once. A few of the other guys come running back, but it was too late. Girls won! 

You laugh, throwing your hands up. "Hell yeah!" 

Olivia cheers, and the woman whoops. The lights come on, making you wince.

"Game over. Red team has claimed their victory! Congratulations, ladies!" Ralph's voice comes over intercoms you didn't know were there. 

You make your way down to ground level, meeting up with the other women. You congratulate each other. 

"Let's do it again! Same team?”

The lot of you end up playing three more games: girls vs. boys, old people vs. young people, and Paul vs. Everyone else. Boys won, young people won, and the last one was a tie. (You and Olivia ended up teaming up with Paul anyways, but no one else needs to know that.)

After that, everyone was crammed into an elevator yet again. This time smelling a lot less pleasant after running and sneaking around.

All of you are lead to another floor. This one resembled a movie theater more than anything else. A huge table of food is set up in front of the door to the screening room. 

Everyone begins to get their dinner, most of them being hungry from the hour and a half spent running around in the dark shooting at each other. 

Before you could grab a plate, however, someone places a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Paul standing behind you.

You smile up at him. "Hi."

"Hey. I wanna talk to you, could we step out?" That look of concern from before is etched onto his face. 

"Sure," You say, the slightest bit of hesitation seeping into your voice. You step into a smaller, unoccupied corner of the hall. Before you can ask any questions, he starts speaking. 

"Look, I don't know your situation, I don't know you, and I don't know what you've been through, but I saw your wrist. I know what it's like to be low, and I just wanted to tell you that it gets better. Everything is going to work the way it's meant to. Everything is going to be okay. And if you need help, don't be afraid to ask. Mental pain is just as serious and debilitating as physical pain is. I hate to see anyone go through this, especially my fans."

Tears prick at you eyes at his words. No one has ever taken you aside and spoken to you like this before. All the anxiety and trepidation leaves your body, and your left with this warmth and reassurance. 

You can only bite your lip and nod. He smiles again and opens his arms. You hug briefly before leaving the corner and getting your food. 

Everything after that is all smiles and laughter. The food is some of the best you've ever had; they certainly spared no expense. 

The movie is incredible. You have no doubt in your mind that you'll save your tips and take your mom to see it one night after it comes out.

Truth be told, you're sad this is over. You want to do more with everyone, but you're so undeniably grateful that you got this opportunity. More pictures are taken, social media is exchanged, and soon you're all on your separate ways home.

When you get home, you pass out on your face, shoes barely kicked off your feet. You never expected to wake up to what you did though. 

A DM from Paul Rudd. 

Hey Y/N! It was so nice meeting you! I'm so glad you had the opportunity to attend the event. It's always so wonderful to spend time with fans. I wanted to tell you that your collage is amazing! You have a real knack for art. You should definitely keep it up if you can. Thank you for sharing your story in the letter. It really moved me. I also wanted to let you know one last time that things do get better, things do improve. Stay strong for yourself and your future. You got this.

[quicksilversquared]

Just Friends

Adrien and Marinette are just friends. Friends and classmates, and sometimes it seems like that's all they'll ever be. But when Adrien mentions his love for the friends-to-lovers trope, Marinette decides to try a new approach.

No more attempts to ask Adrien out. Instead, she'll focus on being the best friend she can be and hope that that's enough to catch Adrien's attention.

links in the reblog

Marinette had grown up with stories of different relationships and their oh-so-romantic starts. Her parents met in university, during one of their baking courses. Her father had asked her mom out after a couple classes because he had already been interested in her- it was pretty much love at first sight- and, well, it went from there. They had been classmates, then dating, then engaged and married and boom, she came along.

It was adorable and romantic and a fantastic example of what Marinette wanted to happen to her, too.

Her Cheng grandparents had a very similar story. They had met at a mutual friend's party, her grandpa asked the friend if her grandma was seeing anyone, and when the answer was no, he tagged along with the friend the next time that they were seeing her grandma and asked her out. She said yes, and they were still together.

The Dupain grandparents, well- like the others, they had met and almost immediately started dating. Even though they weren't still together, it had sounded cute at the time.

In short, all of Marinette's relationship examples hadn't included a purely friendship stage. Sure, they had been friends while dating (and Marinette's parents had referred to each other their best friend more than once), but that came after the dating started. She had heard about friends-to-lovers before, but she had never been particularly convinced by that trope. It just didn't seem realistic. Once people were friends- well, she had always heard older kids referring to their good friends as 'like a brother or sister', and, well, once somebody saw a friend as a sibling, then there wouldn't be any chance for romance there, right? And if people were really good friends, they wouldn't want to risk messing things up by confessing feelings.

And yet the movies made it look so easy, the protagonists moving past considering touches fully brother-sister platonic to romantic and flirty. They didn't seem overly concerned about confessions getting in the way and getting awkward. It just...it didn't ring true.

What if one person fell for the other and the other person didn't return their feelings? Things could get awkward then. What if they both had feelings but were too worried about risking the friendship to ever say anything and then they eventually ended up with other people and heartbroken? What if the other person didn't return the feelings and agreed to try dating anyway and it didn't end up working and everything was weird after that? What if-

Well, life wasn't a romantic comedy and everything working out perfectly didn't sound very realistic. So obviously the only real-life friends-to-lovers relationships that worked were just the rare exceptions.

More examples popped up as her classmates started dating. Ivan and Mylène had known each other before Ivan asked out Mylène, of course, but they hadn't been close friends or anything. They were just...friendly acquaintances. Classmates.

And then Marinette fell for Adrien. And obviously the path to getting a good relationship was asking him out first, then getting to know each other as they dated and became friends. So she tried to ask him out, she really did. But her tongue just kept on tying itself in knots, and she kept on embarrassing herself in front of him.

In short, it was far from the relationship starts that Marinette had heard about all of her life. Her parents had talked about nerves, sure, but not overwhelming, tongue-tying, trip-and-fall-on-your-face nerves. More just small butterflies before dates.

Marinette's nerves weren't small butterflies. No, they were giant, screeching eagles.

The months crept by and then turned into a full year, and Marinette was no closer to asking Adrien out than she had at the start. She could talk to him when she didn't have dates on the brain, sure, but when she was trying to ask him out? Forget about it.

And that meant that something had to change.

  "Okay, are we actually going to get anything done today, or are you two just going to flirt the entire time?"

Nino and Alya broke apart with identical sheepish grins as Adrien gave them an unimpressed look. From her side of the table, Marinette watched Adrien's exasperated grumbles with amusement, trying and failing to not blush when Adrien proclaimed her his favorite out of everyone else at the table, because she was actually working on their assignment.

Even after a year of being sort-of friends with him (and a year of failed attempts to ask Adrien out), Marinette couldn't help but get flustered whenever Adrien paid her special attention. Alya always squealed over it with her after the fact, which- well, that probably wasn't helping Marinette's case of permanent blush, but it was still fun to get excited about it.

Well. Sometimes. Other times, it was just anxiety-inducing stress.

"Okay, so what was our topic again?" Nino asked, settling back into his seat and picking up his pencil again. "Have we decided yet?"

"You would know that if you were actually paying attention," Adrien grumbled, crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat. "We were trying to pick a movie trope to do our report on, and we got about as far as having Marinette pull up a list of tropes to pick from before you two got distracted."

Nino laughed. "Do we even need a list? I already know what trope Adrien is going to vote for. He's a sucker for friends-to-lovers."

Adrien frowned at Nino, crossing his arms. "I am- I am not. I mean, I like it, yeah, but I'm not a sucker for-"

"He's pretending that I didn't see him browsing a Tumblr list of friends-to-lovers movies a week ago," Nino told the group. "And then checking out the summary for at least one of those movies."

Marinette blinked as she turned her attention back to Adrien. He liked friends-to-lovers? That was- well, she didn't think that it was realistic, but it was good to know that about Adrien. Maybe- maybe it would help. Somehow.

"I just think it's a good set-up for a healthy relationship," Adrien was saying when Marinette re-focused on what was going on around her. "I mean, they already know each other, and what the other person is like, and how to cheer the other person up when they're down, and their favorite kind of food, and their dreams, and-" He cut himself off mid-sentence, shrugging sheepishly. "They already know that they work together well. If you just jump into a relationship out of nowhere- I mean sure, it could work, but how likely is it? There's not that base already there. There has to be a much steeper learning curve, right?"

There was a pause.

"Okay, so one vote for friends to lovers trope from Adrien," Nino drawled, sitting back in his chair. "Uh, I don't really have any strong opinions about it, I guess. Alya?"

"I'm not anywhere near as passionate about any of those tropes as Adrien is, but you know me- anything with superheroes is great," Alya said with a grin, and Marinette jolted as she got kicked under the table. "But I think Marinette might be a little superhero-ed out after listening to me talk about the Ladyblog all of the time, so maybe we can listen to Adrien wax poetic about his favorite trope some more and just copy down what he says, write it up, and call it a day."

As Adrien started protesting the waxing poetic bit of Alya's statement, Marinette sat back in her seat. Adrien was clearly super-passionate about the friends-to-lovers thing and he listed off a lot of good points. It kind of sounded like he would want his own romantic relationships to develop out of a friendship, so he wouldn't be trying to- as he had put it- be trying to build a base together from scratch when starting a relationship. Given how reserved Adrien could be around people he didn't know, that- well, that kind of made sense.

Scratch that, it made a lot of sense.

Marinette leaned forward to watch Adrien banter with Nino, amusement glinting in his eyes and a grin pulling at the corners of his lips. His expression was warm and open and comfortable, a far cry from what he looked like whenever she made one of her confession attempts and ended up babbling nonsense instead.

She would have to change her approach, that much was clear. If Adrien wanted a friends-to-lovers relationship, well...

Then she would focus on being the best friend to Adrien that she could be and just hope against hope that eventually, he might return her feelings.

  Adrien couldn't help but half-collapse against Marinette's side as he laughed, snickering more as she groaned at her accidental pun.

He wasn't sure what had changed exactly, but a few months ago Marinette had stopped sometimes getting awkward around him and her full teasing side came out around him. They had similar enough senses of humor that they got along like a house on fire, joking around and teasing each other all the time. Depending on the day, Marinette either punned just as much as he did or groaned at every increasingly bad pun that he threw her way.

It was fun.

It was actually really good timing, Adrien reflected as Marinette returned his lean. Nino and Alya had gotten increasingly more attached at the hip lately as they started getting more serious about their relationship, and Adrien missed the close friendship that he and Nino had had. He was sure that Nino didn't mean to ditch him- it didn't help that Alya was always rushing off to record for the Ladyblog or edit submitted videos or write up articles and organize superhero photos and Nino helped out a lot with that now, and Adrien couldn't come to all of the hangouts that he used to because his father had tightened the reins thanks to the increased fan attention after Adrien branched out from modeling- but it didn't change that Nino did run off with Alya more often than not.

But Marinette seemed less interested in the superheroes than her best friend did, so she wasn't dashing off all the time. It was natural for the two of them to gravitate towards each other.

"Always with the cat puns," Marinette complained, though Adrien couldn't help but notice the note of amusement in her voice. "Bread puns are a much higher art form."

"Meow-tch, Marinette, always so judging," Adrien teased, jostling her with his shoulder. "Though at yeast you can appreciate some puns."

Marinette laughed that time. "Some puns are bread-er than others. But purr-haps we should put aside the buns- er, puns- and actually get the homework done."

Adrien grinned. "That sounds like a good idea. I think our teachers have forgotten that they're all giving us homework, we're getting so much. There's not enough time in the day to get all of it and my activities done." He had finally had to ask Nathalie to start cutting back on obligations, starting with commercials and other extras on top of photoshoots. It had helped, but soon he was going to have to start looking at what else he could cut. If he didn't have being Chat Noir on the side he would be able to handle everything just fine, probably, but dropping that was definitely not an option, so his other activities were all up for potentially being sent to the chopping block instead. "I'm looking forward to the summer, though I wouldn't be surprised if Father hires a tutor again so that I can stay ahead of the curve."

Marinette made a face, then glanced over at him. "I would say that that stinks, but it makes classes during the school year easier, doesn't it?"

"It makes more of a difference in some classes than others, so maybe I'll be able to persuade Father to only have the tutor do those subjects. Math and science are good to had a head start in," Adrien clarified. "Literature, not so much. And with History... well, the curriculum varies so much, I could spend all summer working on memorizing dates and names, only to get to school and find out that we're focusing on something different."

"Ooh, that's gotta be frustrating."

Adrien shrugged. If it weren't for the fact that he had hoped that the head start would help him when it came to keeping up despite his superhero activities, he probably wouldn't have cared that much. His tutors for history had always been big on names and dates, whereas he saw the general events as more important. Either way, the memorization would have eventually become a waste of time.

The two of them fell into a companionable silence as they worked on their homework, only interrupted by the occasional question. They ended up working through a couple math problems together, puzzling through a strategy that they had apparently both missed hearing in class together. Marinette's brow furrowed and her tongue stuck out as she focused, and Adrien grinned at the image before returning his attention to his own paper.

Doing homework with other people hadn't been a perk that Adrien had thought of when he first started going to school, but he had to admit that it actually made homework somewhat enjoyable. Both he and Marinette were getting helped by it, and, well, Adrien had never liked doing homework alone in his large room.

He was so, so lucky to have Marinette as a friend, he really was.

  "My father is going to kill me."

Nino winced as he looked in the tear in Adrien's jacket. The fabric had ripped when an overzealous fan had grabbed at Adrien's jacket when he was trying to head to class, and Adrien had reflexively jerked away. Chloe had chased the unfortunate girl off, but the damage was already done. "Can't your father just make another for you? Or buy another, I don't know how it works when he owns the company."

"I wish. But this is from a discontinued line." Adrien carefully pulled the jacket off, careful not to pull on the fabric further. "And he always wants me to treat my clothing carefully, anyway. It won't matter that a fan grabbed onto it."

"But it's not even your fault!" Nino exclaimed, clearly frustrated, and Adrien couldn't help but wince. He knew that, just as well as Nino did, but he knew what his father would tell him: even though the fan shouldn't have grabbed him, Adrien should have asked them politely to let go of his clothing before moving away. Jerking away not only endangered his clothes but also looked impolite. No matter how often Adrien tried to explain stuff like that to Nino, his friend seemed stuck on how unfair it was.

Adrien knew how unfair it was. He didn't need to be told. That was just how his life was, and he had to work with it.

"Yeah, but I could have avoided the tear still." Adrien looked at the jacket again, trying not to sigh. It was one of his very favorites, and now it was ruined. "What's worse is that it's a little chilly for just a t-shirt, but I can't be seen out and about with a torn jacket."

Nino made a face. "Yeah, that's tough."

As the two of them headed into the classroom, Adrien folded up his jacket, setting it down on the seat next to him. He would grab another one to wear for the afternoon when he went home for lunch, but he would just have to be a little chilly for the morning.

(His mom had loved the look of that jacket on him, saying that the collar was a good shape to compliment his face. He hadn't been looking forward to outgrowing it, but to have it ruined before that, even...)

"Morning, you two!" Alya greeted them cheerfully as she entered the classroom, Marinette not far behind her. Then she caught sight of Adrien's expression and frowned. "What's with the long face?"

"Some fangirl latched on to Adrien's jacket and tore it," Nino explained before Adrien could. "And he's worried about his father's reaction."

"What kind of tear?" Marinette asked at once, sliding into her seat and leaning forward over the desk. "Can I see? Maybe I can fix it."

Adrien lit up at once, picking up his jacket and shaking it open so that he could show Marinette. "Here, right along the buttons in front. It's in kind of a bad spot, though."

Marinette took it from him gently, eyes already inspecting the tear. "It isn't big, though, which is good. And your jacket is white, so I have thread in my bag that matches. Or at least I should." She set the jacket down and started digging in her bag, coming up with an aha and a sewing kit in her hand. "The fabric is a bit thin near the tear, though, so you might want to get it stabilized, too, so it doesn't tear in the future. I should have the materials for that at home, if you want me to do that after school."

Adrien slumped in relief. "Thank you so much. I didn't want to get rid of that jacket."

Marinette beamed at him as she pulled out a length of white thread and cut it. "It's no problem, really!"

Adrien watched as Marinette threaded her needle and then started inspecting the tear, pinning it in place so that she could start stitching. The bell rang before she could get in more than a stitch or two, though, forcing her to push it to the side for the time being.

Throughout the morning, Marinette worked on the jacket when she could, attaching the sides of the tear back together with tiny stitches. She had it back together by the time the bell rang to release them for lunch.

"Just be careful with that bit until we get it stabilized after school," Marinette warned him as she handed the jacket back. "That won't take long, it's just an iron-on piece to make up for the fact that that area is worn a bit thin."

Adrien nodded eagerly as he inspected the repair. The new seam was about as close to invisible as it could possibly be, which was a true testament to Marinette's skill. "Thank you so much, Mari. You're a lifesaver."

Marinette just ducked her head, suddenly shy. "It's really no problem. I'm glad to do it."

Later that day, once the thin spots had been expertly strengthened so that the jacket wasn't in any danger of ripping again and Marinette was blushing under his heaping praise, Adrien was glad that he had such a fantastic friend as Marinette.

  "Wait, can you do that move again, but slower?"

Marinette laughed as she repeated the move, just as quickly as before. Onscreen, her bot smashed her opponent into the ground. "What, and give away my secrets? How am I supposed to win then?"

"We could team up and play partner mode," Adrien suggested as the computer screen flashed with Marinette's victory. "And how are you meant to get better if you keep all of your secret moves to yourself so that I can't win?"

Marinette just laughed, her nose scrunching up adorably as she did.

Adrien hung over her shoulder as she started up the next game. "You would leave your teammate in the dark and put yourself at a disadvantage by keeping moves to yourself?"

"You could always watch and learn," Marinette teased, only taking her eyes off of the screen for long enough to stick her tongue out at him. Adrien thought about catching her tongue with his fingers, just to tease her, but he thought better of it last minute. "That's how I started out."

"Okay, first of all, I'm hardly starting out, and second- have you ever watched your fingers? They're too fast to follow."

Marinette sniffed. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Are you sure? Would fluttering my eyelashes help?"

"That's not flattery, that's flirting," Marinette said with a laugh. "Not the same thing. And that won't get you far, either."

Adrien pumped one fist, undeterred. "Not far isn't the same as nowhere. It's progress!"

Marinette half-groaned, half-sighed. "You- you can't just flirt with people to get your way, Adrien."

"I wasn't going to go around flirting with everyone I meet, I was just going to flirt with you!" Adrien grinned over at her. "If I flutter my eyelashes enough, can I at least get a hint about the combo?"

Marinette's smile turned impish. "Sure. If you do enough fluttering, then you can get a hint."

Adrien didn't trust that smile, but he leaned over into Marinette's space and gave his eyelashes a good flutter, like he had seen Chloe do before. Marinette didn't look impressed, so he upped his game, fluttering his eyelashes until he could barely make out Marinette's face between the flutters. A snort of laughter told him that he had succeeded and Adrien sat back, triumphant.

"All right, one hint," Marinette announced, her voice quivering with barely-suppressed laughter. "And your hint..."

Adrien nodded eagerly.

"...is that making the combo requires hitting buttons on the controller."

"Marinette!" Adrien complained at once, lips falling into a pout. "I already knew that, that doesn't count!"

"If you want a proper hint, you'll have to up your flirting game to more than just eyelash fluttering," Marinette said primly. "That's beginner stuff. Everyone can do that."

Adrien smirked at her, crossing his arms. "Are you telling me to up my flirting game? 'Cause I can totally up my flirting game. You're playing with fire, Mari."

Marinette's scoff was enough to fire up Adrien's competitive streak. Pulling his feet up, he rolled over on the couch into his best flirty pose. Mentally thanking his exposure to modeling shoots- while he wasn't old enough yet to participate in the sexier shoots (a fact that he was endlessly thankful for), he had been in the area to get ready for his own shoots while the older models settled themselves into more alluring poses for more mature shots- Adrien lounged on the couch in his best seductive pose, finishing the pose with a quirked eyebrow at Marinette.

She did not look seduced. Instead, she burst into laughter.

"Oh come on," Adrien complained, lip sticking out in a pout. "That was flirty!"

"If you were wearing the right clothes, maybe," Marinette said with a laugh. "But Adrien, you're wearing a bread pun shirt and your hair is a mess. It's a funny contrast, that's all."

"Are you saying that a bread pun t-shirt can't be seductive?" Adrien demanded automatically before his brain caught up with his mouth. Once it did, he winced. "...uh, can you forget that I said that?"

The answer, he was guessing, was probably no. Marinette had fallen off of the couch laughing, her nose crinkled in clear delight. It was pretty adorable, actually, and Adrien couldn't even find it in himself to be embarrassed. Instead, he couldn't help but chuckle along as Marinette cackled on the floor.

"Oh my god, I can't believe I ever thought that you were cool," Marinette finally managed, flopped out bonelessly on the floor as giggles still occasionally shook her frame. "You're a dork. An adorable Grade- A dork."

"I can be cool," Adrien protested, but it felt more automatic than anything else. If Marinette thought that he was an adorable dork, then he was an adorable dork. "I can prove it!"

Marinette's giggles picked up again. "Is this gonna be like you 'proving' that you can flirt? Because I have some concerns."

Adrien could only smile at Marinette as she laughed, the beam on her face lighting up the room. She made everything she touched brighter, she really did.

He was so, so lucky to have her in his life.

  Chat Noir hated romantic akumas. He hated them.

Part of it was that they had a tendency to have mind-control powers. That always stunk. He didn't mind getting knocked around- super-suits made getting thrown clear across Paris a minor inconvenience. But getting mind-controlled? Getting turned against his Lady? That stunk.

The other part of it was- well, he hated the reminder that Ladybug didn't see him in the same way that he saw her. And sometimes they had to act the part of a couple to fly under an akuma's notice, and that was always hard, too. He couldn't get distracted by cheek kisses or snuggles or- anything, really. Especially the way that Ladybug played an attentive girlfriend, acting as though she was in love with him.

Akuma battles were always at least a little physically exhausting, but those battles were pretty emotionally exhausting as well. And Chat Noir- well, he wished that it wasn't like that. He wished that it would just be like any other battle where he had to watch out for particularly destructive powers.

He had tried moving on from Ladybug before, when he had talked to Kagami and came away with the suggestion that he switch targets. But that was easier said than done, and that whole day ("date", technically) had just kind of been a mess. While Adrien liked Kagami well enough, his feelings for her were more friendship and admiration than love.

When Adrien had told Nino about it a while after the fact (in the vaguest of terms, because he didn't want his friend asking about who his mystery love was, because how was he supposed to explain that it was Ladybug? Nino would think that it was a celebrity crush, something simple and not deep at all), Nino had groaned, rolled his eyes, and told Adrien that of course Kagami had made that suggestion, because she had a crush on him and of course she wanted him to move on from the other person. It wasn't meant to be good advice, it was meant to get him to look her way.

It hadn't worked, at least not very well.

But Nino hadn't really given Adrien any other advice in place of Kagami's, but maybe that was because Nino didn't have any experience with moving on from a past crush. He had switched his attention from Marinette to Alya, sure, but that had happened pretty much instantaneously and had Adrien wondering how on earth that had happened and if Nino's crush had really been on Marinette at all.

(After all, Marinette was amazing. And Alya was pretty cool, too, but Adrien just couldn't understand how someone could fall out of love with Marinette, let alone that fast, and then fall for someone else entirely within the space of an hour or so. That was just- it was unthinkable, really.)

But that was all beside the point at the moment: once again, there was a romantic akuma, and once again, he and Ladybug had had to play the part of a romantic couple to defeat it, to avoid getting hit by its powers. Once again, he was more affected by it than he wanted to be, considering that Ladybug- well, Ladybug had made it pretty clear that she wasn't interested in him like that and he had to respect that and move on. Somehow.

So naturally, Adrien went to Marinette, telling her everything (well, aside from the whole "superhero" thing- that wouldn't be a good idea, even if she was probably one of the most trustworthy people in Paris. He just dubbed Ladybug as a colleague, which- well, he could do that. He had a job outside of superheroing, after all) and then finishing with Kagami and Nino's input.

"Okay, yeah, Nino was right about Kagami's advice," Marinette said with a wince. "That's- if you're in love with someone else, just jumping into another relationship is never going to go well, you're just going to be distracted. It's not going to magically get you to move on."

"Yeah, okay, it's good to hear that," Adrien said, his shoulders relaxing. "I was worried that I just didn't give it enough of a try. But I- I want to be able to move on. Not necessarily with Kagami, but I want to respect my colleague's feelings. She's already rejected me, and holding out hope- well, I realized that it was just resulting in me being pushy."

Marinette smiled at him. "That's good about you to recognize that! But, uh..." She worried her lips. "I don't know what to say. I mean, maybe just be open to moving on and developing feelings for other people? Like, be able to recognize those potential feelings instead of just shutting them down as not a possibility, which- I can't read minds, I don't know if that might have been something that you've been doing or not. Only you can do that."

Adrien thought about it. Plagg had teased him about having feelings for Kagami and- well, actually, Marinette as well. And Adrien had kind of shut down the idea. Whether it was because he didn't actually think of them like that or because of Ladybug...well, it could be either. It could be both.

Clearly he needed to do some self-reflection next time Plagg claimed that Adrien was crushing on his friends.

"And then I would just say to make sure that you can actually commit and aren't still hung up on this other girl," Marinette added. "No one likes playing second fiddle. If you aren't ready to fully move on, don't rush yourself." She grinned. "I know it can be hard, with so many of our classmates in relationships, but..."

"Solid advice," Adrien agreed. He had to admit that yeah, seeing more and more of his peers starting to date had made him long for the same sort of relationship and the same sort of closeness, but Marinette was right. If he started dating, he needed to actually be properly invested in the relationship, not just trying to use it to move on from Ladybug. He owed whoever his future girlfriend might be that much. "Thanks, Marinette."

She just beamed at him. "No problem."

Adrien smiled back, feeling better about the whole situation now. Marinette always knew what to say, it seemed. He would take her advice for sure, and Adrien was sure that it would serve him well.

Whoever ended up with such a fantastic girl in the future was a lucky, lucky person, and Adrien hoped that they would treat her right.

  Stress hung over Marinette like a stormcloud. Adrien watched her with concern, his brow furrowing as he watched his friend start freaking out a bit, digging herself into a hole of anxiety as she tried to figure out how to tackle her pile of things to do.

Adrien couldn't let her do that to herself. Marinette helped out him- helped out all of her classmates- whenever she could. And now it was his turn to help her.

"Marinette, breathe," Adrien ordered, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Breathe. What are you panicking about?"

"I just- I have too much stuff to do!" Marinette exclaimed, hands knotting in her hair. "And then I get interrupted by other stuff, and I have less time, and exams are coming up, and- and-"

"Breathe," Adrien ordered, giving Marinette's shoulders another squeeze. "What all do you have to do?"

Marinette let out a huff. "Studying, of course. I told Alya that I would babysit for her tonight, before all this piled up- well, that was more of a regular thing, so it was assumed that I would do it this week, too, and I can't get anything done when I'm watching Ella and Etta, and then Jagged Stone wants me to design an outfit for him and I'm supposed to email him my concepts Saturday morning, and then I have some mending to do for Kitty Section's outfits, and then I'm supposed to be organizing something for this year's Heroes Day and I just- I don't know what I should be doing, if another picnic would work or if I should organize some volunteering thing, or- I don't know. If I do a volunteering thing, I have to get that figured out soon so that I can contact the appropriate people, and-"

"You're not breathing." Adrien's thumbs started to rub circles on Marinette's shoulders. "Slow down. We can work through this. First of all, drop the babysitting. Tell Alya that you can't do it this week. She's your best friend, she wouldn't want to be one of the reasons why you're stressed out." And if Alya had any problems with Marinette backing out, Adrien would have words with her. "Okay?"

Marinette's nod was jerky.

"I personally really love the volunteering idea for Heroes Day." Adrien glanced down at Marinette. She nodded, though there was a small bit of a wince there. "I know I've heard of organizations kind of taking advantage of the celebration to set up volunteering opportunities, so if we can find a collège-level one, it might just be a matter of clearing it with Ms. Bustier and signing the class up."

Marinette looked up at him. "W- we?"

"You didn't really think that I wouldn't offer to help out, did you? Not a single chance." Sure, maybe his schedule was pretty busy too, but Adrien could manage. Besides, he could probably do some research to find an opportunity when he was getting driven around to photoshoots and his assorted other activities.

The look of utter relief on Marinette's face- wow. She clearly had been stressed beyond belief.

"Kitty Section can make do without the repairs until you have time," Adrien continued after a second, remembering the pieces that Marinette was referring to. "And I don't think we have any performances for a while." He gave Marinette a fond look. "You were just trying to be ready for anything, weren't you?"

"Maybe just a little," Marinette admitted with a shaky giggle. "It's just one more pile in my room, always reminding me that I have to do it. And it wouldn't take long, necessarily- none of the repairs are that big- but I can't get other stuff done at the same time."

Adrien smiled, even as he pulled her into a hug. "That's very you. But just set them to the side and remember that they aren't a priority. It's not worth stressing yourself out over."

"Okay."

"And Jagged Stone is really understanding, you know he is," Adrien finished. "Email Penny and tell her that you've got a little too much going on at the moment to be inspired for something properly rock 'roll and you need a little more time. I'm sure he commissioned you with plenty of time in mind."

Marinette nodded into his shoulder.

"I can text Nathalie and ask permission to come study with you," Adrien added quietly, tucking Marinette deeper in his arms. "I know it can be easier to study together sometimes, so that you stay focused and we can quiz each other. If you want to study alone, just say the word, but if you want to..."

"I want to study together," Marinette said quietly, hugging him tighter. "I have some questions about our math unit, and I've really been struggling with studying for that test. And you seem to understand it."

"Of course." Adrien smiled into Marinette's head. "No problem." He paused. "D'you want to start studying right away, before class starts, or...?"

"Can we just stand here for a bit?" Marinette asked quietly. "I just need to breathe for a minute."

Adrien hugged her tighter, more than willing to prolong the hug. "Of course."

No matter what Marinette needed, Adrien would be there for her. She was amazing, but even the most amazing people needed support every now and then. They couldn't be expected to carry their load all on their own. They couldn't. They would eventually break under the pressure.

And Marinette was far too precious to let break.

  Adrien had just realized that his heart had gotten tangled up. Again.

It hadn't- it hadn't exactly been a sudden realization, more just one that crept up on him over time. He hadn't realized it sooner, probably because with Ladybug, it had been immediate.

With Marinette, it had been gradual. They had gone from friends-of-friends to actual friends to best friends, pretty much, and now...

Yeah, he was in over his head, and he hadn't even realized it before.

Adrien smiled as he watched Marinette laughing with Rose. It was such a far cry from the strung-out anxious look that she had worn only weeks prior, and it was such a better look on her. She had passed her exams with flying colors, Alya had found a different babysitter to take over when she went out on dates with Nino (which was for the better, in Adrien's opinion; after all, Marinette wasn't getting paid for the extra work and she had a lot more than Alya did on her plate), their Heroes Day trash pick-up volunteering opportunity was lined up for right after school, Rose had helped finish up the mending, and Jagged Stone's outfit sketch had absolutely burst out of Marinette and onto paper as soon as all of her other worries had been sorted out, and the rock star had loved it. Marinette had started working on getting pattern pieces cut already, but Jagged Stone had assured her that really, there was no hurry, he just had wanted to get in line for a Marinette original before she hit it big and forgot about him.

Adrien's smile got bigger at that particular memory. Marinette had giggled at Jagged Stone's dramatic proclamation, turning pink. Her, getting so famous that she forgot about Jagged Stone? Unlikely. But he clearly had a lot of faith in her, and was more than willing to work with her schedule instead of her having to actually hit any deadline. And he was paying her well, too, which Adrien had (briefly) been concerned about.

He didn't want anyone taking advantage of Marinette's kindness and eagerness to help out, so he was glad that Jagged Stone at least understood the importance of actually compensating Marinette fairly for her time and talent.

Her extensive talent. Ever since they became close friends, Adrien had gotten to see more and more of Marinette's work and it was so creative and fun and bubbly and her. No matter what she decided to do in the future, be it being an independent designer or joining some lucky company, she would excel.

And Adrien wanted to be there to see it firsthand, from Marinette's side if possible.

Plagg sniggered from inside of Adrien's jacket, making Adrien startle and pull his gaze away from Marinette. He had been staring, and being far too obvious about it.

"Well, you've gotten your friends-to-lovers romance," Plagg sing-songed, smirk clear in his voice. "Like I've called all along."

"There's no to lovers yet," Adrien hissed back, trying not to move his lips. He was already weird because of the smell that came with Plagg's cheese obsession; he didn't need to be labeled as the boy who talked to himself, too. "I've fallen for her, sure, but there's no way to know if she feels the same way."

Which was the problem with the whole "friends to lovers" trope, he was now realizing. Sure, he fell for Marinette and absolutely everything about her, but what now? Did he flirt and see if she flirted back? Would that even mean anything if she did? They already had a pretty flirty dynamic, so how was he meant to up that without it going a little too far? He didn't want to make Marinette uncomfortable at all, and he didn't want to risk losing their close friendship.

Romantic comedies made it look so easy, transitioning from friends to something more. It was not easy.

"Yet," Plagg stressed. "You can't just sit back and magically be dating. You gotta ask her."

"That's the hard part!" Adrien complained. "I don't know if she feels the same!"

And there was no way to safely figure that out. If Adrien asked Alya she would probably know, but the likelihood that she would tell Marinette...no, he couldn't risk it. Alya might be too interested in the possibility of double dates to keep the secret. But Nino...

Well, Nino could maybe give him some advice. Nino was in a relationship, and he and Alya had kind of been friends before they started dating, though they hadn't been anywhere as close to each other then as Adrien and Marinette were now.

...and Nino had tried to confess to Marinette (Adrien was so, so glad now that that attempt had been thoroughly bungled), panicked and claimed that he was in love with Alya, who apparently had been close enough to overhear somehow (he had never quite understood that part of Nino's explanation), and then got locked in an empty panther cage for long enough for them to actually talk through the awkwardness and figure out that they might actually be interested in dating.

It was very possible that Nino was not a shining example of how to start a relationship. Still, there was a friends-to-lovers sort of dynamic there even if he and Alya pretty much powered accidentally into the awkward stage , and Nino knew Marinette and had Alya as a girlfriend, so maybe he would have some insights there.

Adrien dithered about it for several days, trying to decide if it was really a good idea. Best-case scenario, Nino didn't tell anyone and dished out some good advice. Worst-case scenario- well, worst-case scenario either had Nino telling Adrien that he knew that Marinette wasn't interested, or had Nino telling Alya and Alya telling Marinette and everything going completely weird. But he didn't- he couldn't sit in limbo for forever. It just wasn't in his nature.

So Adrien told Nino.

"-and normally I would just flirt and test the waters that way but we flirt for fun anyway, we have for ages, so I can't do that. And I've watched a bunch of my favorite movies to try to get ideas, but romantic comedies made the whole confession thing look so easy but what if I confess and she doesn't feel that way? What if I make things weird? Nino, help," Adrien all but begged, eyes widening hopefully at his friend.

His friend, who was laughing at him.

"The two of you are ridiculous, you really are," Nino said with another chuckle. "Especially you, watching movies to get ideas. Obviously they aren't going to be particularly realistic, they're fantasies."

"I was desperate!"

"Yeah, I can tell," Nino muttered. Then he sighed. "Hopeless."

"Do you have any suggestions, though?" Adrien asked, feeling a little less hopeful now. "I just don't want to ask and make things weird if she's not interested in me like that, so I need to figure it out on my own first, and-" He groaned, running his hands through his hair. "I just don't know how to do that. And if I misread her and ask her out when she's not interested...I just don't see how that wouldn't mess stuff up between us."

Nino ran his own hand through his hair with a mutter and a groan, then dropped his hands back down with a sigh. He fixed Adrien with a look. "Okay, I'm not supposed to say anything under threat of disembowelment, but trust me- you will not be disappointed if you ask. Seriously."

Adrien stared at Nino. "Have- have you heard something? How do you know that?"

"I've got my connections, all right? That's all I can say." Nino glanced over his shoulder towards where Adrien and Marinette were talking across the courtyard. "Trust me, and ask her out. Just make sure that you don't overschedule yourself and end up with a photoshoot or something when you promised to take Marinette out on a date, okay?"

With that, Nino nodded to Adrien and headed towards Alya, a spring in his step. Adrien watched him go, stuck between elation and worry.

He trusted Nino. If Nino promised that Marinette liked Adrien like that, then Adrien wouldn't question him. But Nino had brought up another concern- Adrien had to cancel things all the time thanks to 'last-minute photoshoots' or 'extra piano lessons' or- he couldn't remember all of his excuses, even. They were pretty much all actually akuma attacks that he had to go deal with, but it wasn't like he could actually say that. And Nino was right- it wasn't as though Adrien could just go around canceling dates all the time without it having some impact on his relationship with Marinette.

If they started dating and he was canceling all the time, they would probably end up breaking up, and that would be even worse for their relationship. No, he couldn't do that. He would have to wait until Hawkmoth was defeated- but he didn't know how long that would take. Marinette might move on to someone else in the meantime, thinking that he wasn't interested, and Adrien would find himself with a one-sided crush again.

But at least he would still be friends with Marinette then.

"Kid, I know what you're thinking, and it's not going to work like that," Plagg told him, popping out of Adrien's jacket. "You're forgetting that Nino knows that you're interested in Marinette now, and he's probably going to tell Alya pretty much right away. They're both going to be waiting for you to ask Marinette out."

Adrien groaned. He had pretty much backed himself into a corner now, hadn't he? That was frustrating. He just- he didn't want to ruin things. "Plagg, I need your ancient wisdom. I'll get you a round of really fancy cheese if you help."

Plagg snorted. "I'll help just to get you to stop moping around, but the cheese is a nice touch." He shifted, settling down more comfortably in Adrien's pocket. "I'd say be honest with Marinette. Like, she knows that you have to dash off sometimes. You've been friends long enough for her to know that. She might be able to come up with a solution to work around your need to run off. That, or at least acknowledge that she's willing to go into a relationship with the understanding that you might have to cancel and reschedule stuff."

...okay, Plagg could give out good advice when he wanted to. Adrien let out a breath, considering Plagg's words. He made a good point; Marinette knew him already, and put up with him dashing off for akuma attacks (or 'last-minute photoshoots') without complaint. Communication was important, Adrien had heard Mr. Dupain and Mrs. Cheng say that before. Even though it was intimidating, Adrien needed to include Marinette in the conversation. He couldn't take her decision away from her.

If she wanted to try dating with the understanding that he might have to cancel last-minute, then they would. If she wanted to wait until his schedule settled down, then they could do that and Adrien would seriously step up his game as Chat Noir and try to brainstorm ideas (potentially with Ladybug's assistance; after all, she was the creative powerhouse of their team) to track down and defeat Hawkmoth for once and for all.

It took a couple days for Adrien to build up the courage to bring up the topic with Marinette. He was worried about how to approach the whole thing- he didn't want to get her hopes up about potentially dating him, only to be let down when he made it clear that last-minute cancellations would be unavoidable. Adrien had decided that if she gave him a chance, he would do his best to let Marinette know before transforming and heading into battle, instead of ghosting and then letting her know later.

Despite having practiced (and refined, and practiced and refined some more) what he was going to say, Adrien muddled his entire prepared speech in front of Marinette, words and points out of order to the point where he wondered if anything was comprehensible. Marinette sat patiently, listening until Adrien's words until they tumbled to an uncoordinated stop. Adrien had turned steadily redder as he talked, and now his cheeks were flaming.

He was sure that the Dupain-Chengs were right and communication was important, but right now, communication was feeling a lot like spilling his guts on the ground in an ungainly heap and then cringing in mortification.

Thankfully, Marinette was ever-understanding and fantastic. She took a minute to parse through all of Adrien's words, then nodded and sat back, her own cheeks pink.

"Okay, if I'm understanding correctly- you're interested in dating me, but you're worried about having to miss dates because of things scheduled for you last-minute," Marinette started, watching Adrien's expression. "And you don't want us to start dating and then break up because of that."

Adrien nodded, swallowing. "Right."

"And Nino gave away that I would be interested."

Adrien gulped. He hadn't realized that he had given that away in the rush of word vomit. "Uh."

"If you hadn't told him that you were interested first, he would be dead," Marinette muttered, then she smiled and scooted closer to Adrien. "I understand that you have a lot more stuff going on in your life than a lot of other kids our age, Adrien. And I know that you sometimes get called away for stuff unexpectedly. I do too, sometimes." She reached out, squeezing his hand. "We can work around that."

Adrien looked into Marinette's eyes, swallowing hard as he searched for any hesitation. There wasn't any, just her normal lovely determination. "It might get frustrating after a while. I know Nino didn't mind at first, but it got really old, really fast. And that was just with, like, study sessions. Not dates."

"We can make it work." Marinette's smile was small, but determined. "We can be flexible with our planning. Maybe we can set stuff up last-minute, once we know that you don't have an activity shoehorned in. And we can keep our dating pretty laid-back, too. Like, one date per week instead of two or more like Nino and Alya are doing. And we don't have to if we're really busy. Like, dating isn't just about going out."

"We can keep doing our study sessions, like normal," Adrien chimed in, picking up where Marinette was going. The knots in his stomach were slowly unraveling. The way that Marinette was describing their potential relationship was a lot less intimidating than what Nino always talked about, with multiple dates per week and dinners with the parents and literally always cuddling and being together. What Marinette was talking about was them, just with some relationship stuff mixed in.

Marinette giggled. "Though we could start throwing in kisses as celebration for finishing a section."

Adrien officially approved.

"There's no one-size-fits-all relationship, my parents have told me," Marinette finished once the two of them were done nervously giggling at the concept of kisses. "And no single right way to do a relationship. We just have to find what works for us and not be concerned about other people's expectations for us."

"You are officially too smart for me," Adrien said with a laugh, but he scooted closer anyway, gaze dropping to Marinette's lips. "Too much wisdom."

Marinette giggled, and he didn't miss the way that she shifted closer to him, too. "It all comes from my parents, honestly. If you hang around them enough, it wears off on you."

"Well, I think they're usually working when I can come over, but maybe if I spend enough time with you, I'll learn their wisdom by proximity," Adrien suggested, leaning closer. Their noses were practically brushing now. "What do you think?"

"I think that you should stop teasing and kiss me," Marinette breathed, tipping her chin up. "It would be nicer- mmm."

Adrien smiled into the kiss, pulling Marinette closer as they pressed their lips together. His heart was racing, but kissing Marinette just felt right. It felt perfect, and it just got better as Marinette let out a content little sigh and shifted to a better angle.

She was right again, of course. Kissing was much better than teasing.