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lucy90712 · 2 years ago

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Augusto Fernandez- What a day

The last few days have been very busy with Augusto leaving for the last race of the season and me having to go to work and then pack to drive to the track to join him but finally we have reached the last race day of the season. I've never experienced a last race of the season before let alone a title decider so to been pretty overwhelming watching Saturdays track action and now getting ready for the race. With everything thats been going on I've not had much time to think about how this will be Augusto's last race in moto2 and possibly his chance of winning his first title. Its crazy to think that just a few months ago Augusto was trailing behind in the title fight and didn't see any hope of getting to motogp but here we are with him leading the championship and with a seat in motogp for next year. I couldn't be more proud of everything he's achieved this year as I've been here to watch everything and the amount of work and determination he's put into this season is like nothing I've ever seen before. As much as I would love to I can't get too ahead of myself as of course the championship isn't done as there is still a good chance that Ai could win but I have a good feelings about today.

On a normal race weekend we would have a bit more time together but since I got here I've barely seen Augusto as he's been so busy. The only time we got to spend together was in the evening but then we were both super tired so ended up just getting into bed. I guess overnight I didn't sleep so that kind of counts as spending time with Augusto as I spent most of the night staring at him to make sure that he was ok and sleeping while I worried about today. The busy schedule continued this morning as the alarm went off earlier than normal and I was dragged out of bed to go and get breakfast then left while the team had a meeting to talk about he race seeing as its an important one for the whole team. After the boring things were done it was time for warm up and I realised that I hadn't even got ready yet so I hid out the way during warmup just incase they had cameras as I didn't want to be on tv in my pyjamas.

Eventually we made it back to the motorhome and I got ready so that I looked a bit more presentable but then we had nothing to do until the start of the race. Seeing as we had some time I thought it might be a good idea to be doing something to take Augusto's mind off the race so I dragged him out of the motorhome to walk around the paddock. The paddock was very busy when we first went out as it was just before the moto3 race but after that began it was a bit quieter which made it a lot more enjoyable. As much as this walk was supposed to be to distract Augusto he seemed to be doing pretty ok and I was the one that was nervous about the race. I am always nervous before a race but I'm extra nervous for this race as I just know that if it doesn't go Augusto's way he will be so upset and will blame himself for all the mistakes he's made this season especially Australia.

Soon enough we had to head back to the motorhome for him to get ready which is when I noticed him getting a bit quieter and more nervous which was to be expected. I wanted to help him feel a bit calmer but I let him him go through his usual routine first as I know that he will be worse if he doesn't do everything like he usually does. Once he was ready I got up and grabbed hold of his hand to get his attention and once I had it I made him come sit down with me. I didn't say anything for a few minutes instead I just played with his hair running my hand through it as that often relaxes him. After playing with his hair for a few minutes he pulled me onto his lap and cuddled me into his chest.

"You've got this you know" I said

"You think so" he said

"Yeah I mean you like this track and the bike has been fast all weekend while Ai has been struggling you can do this you just need to believe in yourself" I said

"Thank you love" he said

"Now come on let's go so you can win the championship" I said pulling him up

We went into the garage and the whole team were busy getting things ready which meant it was a little chaotic but Augusto went straight to sit in his chair and I stood next to him while he got his helmet and gloves on. He put his gloves on and grabbed his helmet before getting up and giving me a kiss and getting on his bike and before I knew it he had left the garage and it was almost time for the race. Once he was gone I started to show my nerves a bit more as I was trying to hide them before but now that he's not here I can be as nervous as I like which is very nervous. You could sense that the whole team were starting to feel it as when everyone was back in the garage during the warm up lap no one said anything everyone just got in place to start watching the race. I was stood out the way to start with but Aki then got a chair for himself and allowed me to sit in Augusto's chair which I did as my legs were starting to shake from the nerves.

They did the warm up lap and then the lights went out and straight away I was very stressed. Augusto dropped some places on the start and Ai made up some places which meant that it was just 0.5 points between them. My nerves weren't helped by Alonso Lopez who seemed to be pulling some strange moves but luckily for Augusto after he passed him he lost it and crashed. The next worry was that Ai was gaining on Tony in the lead and Cam was rapidly getting closer from behind. I just couldn't watch so I put my hands over my eyes so I was only peaking through my fingers but as soon as I did chaos ensued with Cam crashing and Ai doing the same in a very odd crash. None of that mattered though as it meant Augusto was champion which took a second to sink in for everyone in the garage but when it did they all congratulated each other and I felt tears threatening to spill from my eyes in just pure joy.

The rest of the race almost didn't matter but Augusto still fought to the very last lap and ended up 2nd with Pedro in 1st which was a brilliant result for the team. Before the end of the race I joined a few team members to going to the side of the track to greet Augusto and give him his world champion helmet. Of course he took a while to get there but once he did the team members greeted him first before he got off his bike and came over to give me a hug which was the best hug I've had in a long time. The team then gave me his special helmet which I got to give to him which I really enjoyed as I actually helped in designing the helmet. He celebrated with the fans for a bit before getting back on his bike to head back to parc ferme so I did the same by getting on the back of a scooter so that I could watch the podium ceremony.

Somehow I got to parc ferme before Augusto but that was fine by me as it gave me the chance to congratulate the whole team including Pedro who gave me a hug after I congratulated him for winning rookie of the year and the race. Eventually Augusto made it back and everyone went crazy celebrating and congratulating him. The team then gathered to take pictures so I tried to get out the way but Augusto gently pulled me back and got me to stand next to him for all the pictures which made me a little nervous but ultimately no one will really notice me. Once all the pictures were taken everyone went up to the podium and of course Augusto did his best to spray the team with the champagne which included me so I ended up soaked but I also didn't care.

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It was a while before I saw Augusto again as he had loads of media to do but eventually he came back to the motorhome and straight away joined me on the sofa as he was clearly exhausted. I felt bad as I could see that he just wanted a moment to chill but he had the awards to attend later tonight which he had to get ready for and then travel there which meant there wasn't much time for chilling. When it was time for Augusto to start getting ready he pulled me up with him and made me come into the bedroom with him even though I was under the impression that I was just going to sit there while he got ready. As I just sat there he looked at me puzzled like I was doing something wrong so I gave him the same look back to see if he would explain. Instead of explaining he just looked at me for a bit longer before then switching to a look of realisation.

"Oh I never actually asked you to come did I?" He questioned

"I have no idea what you're on about so no" I replied

"Well I was going to ask you to come to the awards with me and I thought I did but clearly I forgot so would you like to come?" He asked

"I would love to but I don't have anything to wear" I said

"I have that covered I prepared everything else I just forgot to ask you" he laughed

"Well then I'm in" I said

With that I got up and went straight to the bathroom to shower and wash my hair as I didn't do it this morning. I had to be quick because Augusto doesn't take long to get ready and he got up in enough time for him to be ready even though I would have started getting ready an hour ago. Once out the shower I quickly dried my hair and curled it before starting on my makeup which I decided to keep simple to save time and because I'm not that good at makeup so can't do much else. When I was done with everything else I asked Augusto where my outfit was and he opened the wardrobe to show me the prettiest dress I've ever seen. The dress was black and had a slit up the leg and an open back but also long sleeves so it had some coverage but also showed some skin. I put it on with some help as I couldn't reach the zip but once it was on I fixed my hair and added shoes and jewellery before I was completely ready to go.

Augusto came up behind me while I was looking in the mirror and put his arms around my waist before leaning down to kiss me. I looked at him through the mirror as we just stood there together doing nothing until he pulled out his phone and took some pictures of us together which I watched him put on his Instagram story before we actually left the motorhome. Luckily there was a car waiting for us to drive us to the venue of the awards as I didn't want to do it and I wasn't going to let Augusto after he's been celebrating for hours. It was a really nice car too much nicer than any car I've ever owned so I felt very important getting in the back with Augusto especially knowing that we were going to an award ceremony too.

During the drive we didn't speak too much as it started to sink in what we were doing and I got incredibly nervous all of a sudden. I mean I'm ok with being seen with Augusto at races and he will post pictures of us together on social media which I'm fine with but for some reason the thought of going to the awards has me nervous. Knowing that is live and that there will be people there filming and taking pictures specifically of me and Augusto is something I've not experienced before and it is outside of my comfort zone. As much as I know people are there to see the riders from past years I know that many also like to see what the wives and girlfriends wear so I'm nervous about being judged on my outfit and just generally how I look. Augusto must have noticed that I'd been extra quiet as I felt him put a hand on my thigh and squeeze it slightly to get my attention.

"Are you ok there love?" He asked

"Yeah just a bit nervous" I said

"You seem more than a bit nervous what's bothering you?" He questioned

"I'm just nervous about there being so many cameras and people judging how I look" I admitted

"I promise it will be ok I'll be with you the whole time and if you feel uncomfortable you can hide out the way" he said

"Thank you that makes me feel slightly better" I said

"Good now lets go we got this" he smiled

We got out the car and Augusto stood there to wait for me to sort my dress out and to be ready to walk down the red carpet they put out which felt a little over the top but I guess this only happens once a year. Once I was ready to go he grabbed hold of my hand and squeezed it gently before we started to walk towards the red carpet. I took one last deep breath before we started to walk down together and right away there was cameras flashing and others coming to film us as we walked. Augusto kept a tight grip on my hand the entire time until we made it into the building where he had to go and do an interview so I stood off to the side just waiting for him. I actually really enjoyed hearing him talk about winning the championship and going to Motogp next year as it's not something we have talked too much about as of course other things have been going on.

After the interview we had to take a few more pictures but after that we were able to go properly inside and take our seats. A few people were in there already and Augusto being the way he is started a conversation with them and eventually I ended up joining in when I felt like I could say something worth while. I don't talk to too many people in the paddock as I'm not the most outgoing person but it was really nice to actually talk to some people and make some friends who I can talk to when at races. Weirdly after being so nervous earlier I was feeling relaxed and was really enjoying the evening so far.

Before long the awards started and they went through each of the classes in order so starting with motoE then moto3 and them finally to moto2. A bit before they started with moto2 Augusto had to go backstage so I had been sat alone just waiting to get to watch him be officially awarded the championship. Seeing the team get the awards and then Pedro get rookie of the year made me really happy as the team are really great and this year has been a bit of a rollercoaster. Finally Augusto walked out on stage and the smile on my face only got bigger and a few tears even welled up in my eyes as just seeing him up there made me so proud of what he has achieved this year. I loved watching him get given his medal and certificate (is that what they are called?) and then stand with the others to take pictures before giving his speech which he was worried about doing but I thought he did great.

Once the ceremony was over and we were able to get up Augusto brought me with him to the photo booth that they have and we took pictures together which perfectly captured the moment and put into a physical thing that I can keep forever the emotions of the day. We then went and talked to a few more people who I already knew so was happy to chat to to kill some time. Like he promised earlier Augusto didn't leave my side even though there wasn't cameras around anymore he stayed with me the whole time. He even just stood there happily as I talked to one of the riders girlfriends for a bit before we then went to talk to someone else. It was nice to have him there as when I wanted to have a break from talking to people he would happily go to a more quiet corner with me for a few minutes which I really appreciated.

The whole evening was really enjoyable and by the time we left although I was exhausted and definitely needed to just be with Augusto or by myself I was happy that I decided to go as its a special moment that hopefully I will get to experience again but if I don't this time will always be in my memories.

#augusto fernandez #augusto Fernandez fluff #augusto fernandez x reader #moto2

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 4 years ago

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IOTA Reviews: Lies

You guys ready for almost twenty straight minutes of Angstdrien Depreste? Neither am I.

Let's get into the third (chronologically the second) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Lies (Oh, I get what they did there).

We open with Marinette struggling to decipher the grimoire she inherited from Fu, before two of the Kwamis screw around and play a video about Adrien.

Jesus Christ... it hasn't even been an episode since she broke up with Luka, and the writers are already back to making her simp over Adrien again. And this part of the episode takes place during “Truth”, where she's still dating Luka. This is supposedly meant to show her conflicting feelings regarding both Adrien and Luka, but it just comes across as yet another joke about Marinette simping over Adrien because the writers have forgotten she has other interests outside of her hero life.

And here we go. The writers are going to go out of their way to make the audience feel bad for Adrien in this episode by showing how tough his life is. What do we see him do that is allegedly so exhausting? He models for another statue, goes to a photoshoot, and then goes to some drama class where he repeats some phrase (I think it's supposed to be a warmup, but it's never explained why he's there in the first place). That's it. This is his definition of an “endless day”? Oh yeah, his life must be soooooooo hard.

Adrien is a rich white boy who is the son of one of the biggest names in fashion across the world, has legions of fans, an honest education, and is also one of the most beloved superheroes in the city while not having to struggle with the same responsibility his partner has. But no, Adrien's life is much harder than anyone else who has suffered this past year. It's yet another trick the writers are pulling to make people feel bad for Adrien instead of criticizing his behavior. I'm sorry, but I find it a little hard to relate to someone whose biggest problems amount his diamond shoes being too tight.

Good lord, I'm not even a minute in...

So Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and heads off to patrol. Keep in mind that the first part of this episode takes place during the events of “Truth”, so we see how he reacts to Ladybug not showing up for patrol. He waits for a while before he starts, but not before leaving a message for his partner.

Now, this moment honestly could have worked. What doesn't make it work is the air quotes Cat Noir starts off with. If he had said something like that honestly and kept his feelings a secret, it could have shown he understands the burden Ladybug has to bear now that she's the Guardian, but doesn't want to worry her. The problem is that the way he phrased the first sentence coupled with the air quotes make it seem like he doesn't care about what Ladybug has to deal with now, and only wants her to spend time with him.

You think I'm being overdramatic or I'm just jumping to conclusions? In the very next scene, Cat Noir actually tries to see if Mr. Ramier is emotional enough to get akumatized into Mr. Pigeon again just so he can see Ladybug.

This is just... why? Why would any of the writers expect the audience to feel bad for Cat Noir here? It's one thing for him to miss Ladybug's company, which is natural considering how much time they spend together, but wanting to start a life-threatening situation just to see Ladybug just isn't cool. What makes this any different from Chloe causing a subway to go out of control so she can save it herself, or Lila intentionally akumatizing herself and working with Hawkmoth just because she hates Ladybug? If you can find a reason other than “because the plot says so”, I'll want to hear an explanation.

So Cat Noir goes to Le Grand Paris to drown his sorrows in alcohol with his favorite drink, a White Russian without the vodka and coffee liqueur. Also, instead of cream, it's skim milk. And speaking of Chloe, we see her get into a brief squabble with Sabrina over missing a bag she has underneath her shoulder, and Cat Noir gets excited again at the prospect of getting to fight an Akuma, but thankfully, the situation is resolved fairly quickly.

Ignoring how unheroic this makes this supposed “superhero” look, I have a quick question. SHOULDN'T CHLOE BE IN PRISON RIGHT NOW? She essentially committed treason against her country by willingly conspiring with a terrorist. I get that everyone in Paris was paralyzed at the time, but did Ladybug not tell anyone what happened? How is she not in trouble? Did her father pardon her or something? Is she not even going to do any community service? You would think given how much Astruc hates her, Chloe would be forced to face more consequences for her actions other than losing her Miraculous permanently. Hopefully, “Queen Banana” will shed some light on Chloe's situation, but I'm not exactly holding my breath on that.

But yeah, Cat Noir actually gets excited at the prospect at fighting an akumatized Sabrina, while ignoring how cruel Chloe's being to her, because I guess it's a day that ends with a “Y”. Remember when Adrien actually called out Lila and compromised with her in order to get Marinette back into school? Good times.

Cat Noir keeps calling and leaving messages for Ladybug, but changes his mind as soon as he sees Kagami, because he has the attention span of a puppy looking for someone to play with. Adrien stares at his phone's wallpaper of Ladybug, implying he still has feelings for her, and is then informed by Nathalie that his fencing class with Kagami was moved back by an hour. In reality, it was a trick by Kagami to get the two to spend some quality time together.

They choose to hang out in the art room because, get this, Kagami has always had a passion for drawing. Of course! That explains why it's never been mentioned in any earlier episodes, not even the one where she attended the premiere of an animated movie, which is a similar form of art. It's almost like the writers wanted to have Kagami do something that doesn't involve swinging a sword around. It's a good reason, mind you, but maybe if it was foreshadowed more, I would be more open to it.

Kagami says that she loves drawing because “art never lies”. Because it's not like someone can draw something completely inaccurate to what's actually being depicted, much like a certain character who likes to make up stories of people she knows to get others to like her, right? Kagami also says that her mother doesn't let her draw because she doesn't think her art isn't good, even though she's blind. Because when it comes to parents in Miraculous Ladybug, they're either amazing people who love their children, or they're emotionally abusive pieces of garbage who make you wonder why they even had kids in the first place. There is literally no middle ground. Maybe some of the writers have daddy issues?

So Kagami decides to draw a picture of Adrien, but wants him to give her a more “natural” pose instead of the standard model poses he usually gives.

Okay, this scene is raising so many red flags, the dialogue might as well be in semaphore. Where the hell did this side of Kagami come from? Why is she so controlling and forceful all of a sudden? In fact, why is she so obsessed with Adrien being “perfect”? The two made jokes before in the past (Desperada), and even spent half of the Season 3 finale playing around with Marinette? Why is she now Little Miss Serious?

Also, Kagami is really overstepping boundaries with Adrien here. Like, to a seriously uncomfortable degree. I get she isn't good with social cues, but how can she not see how anxious Adrien looks while she forces him into a pose, all while saying how wrong he is for doing what he sees as “natural”? This is not what a healthy relationship looks like, and spoiler alert, this isn't exactly why they even break up at the end of the episode.

Before the two can kiss while they're actually at fencing practice, Adrien is forced to leave Kagami to help Ladybug fight Mr. Pigeon (which means the narrative basically gave him what he wanted for no reason), leading to the same scene where Ladybug almost kills him, while he jokes about how he likes how angry she gets, and she apologizes for something that wasn't her fault. Just remember, he flirts with Ladybug right after he left his girlfriend to join her for an Akuma battle. The same montage from “Truth” happens, only it's Adrien missing opportunities to be close with Kagami, culminating with the little Kitty Section concert that happened right before Luka got akumatized.

While the two wait for their rides, Adrien accidentally drops the charm Marinette gave him all the way back in “Gamer”, which Kagami picks up. When he sees an Akuma flying, Adrien soon heads off to fight him, saving Ladybug from blowing her cover. After the events of “Truth”, Adrien apparently heads to Prince Ali's birthday party (yet Rose isn't there for some reason), meaning the second half of this episode takes place immediately after the previous one, even though it's been established that Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth needs time to recharge.

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After Cat Noir flirts a little with Ladybug again, he heads off to the party to meet up with Kagami. When he had to leave to fight Truth, Adrien claimed that he left something on the Liberty, which Adrien later claims was the charm Marinette gave him. Kagami soon realizes he's lying about something, and doesn't take it well.

There's a good performance from Kagami's voice actress here, and it's a nice parallel to Luka, who also feels a sense of betrayal when Marinette can't be honest with him. But this scene does tie into the problem with Adrien and Kagami in this episode, and I'll get into it towards the end.

Kagami storms off, and is immediately akumatized by Shadowmoth, turning her into Lies.

Like Truth, the design here is really forgettable. The design is all white and gives Kagami a haircut that looks like it belongs in The Jetsons, but that's it. The one thing I like about her is the way her powers work. Instead of going from victim to victim, Lies creates an energy dome that slowly grows and paralyzes anyone has lied before in the past, which is basically everyone who comes into contact with it. It's a pretty interesting idea, and it means that Ladybug and Cat Noir have to rely more on strategy while avoiding any contact with the dome.

Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and charges into action, with Jagged Stone offering to help out.

I don't think you can say the same for your family, can you, Jagged?

Cat Noir tells Jagged to get to a safe place, but much like his one night stand with Anarka, he refuses to pull out, so he gets paralyzed by the dome, along with everyone in the building.

Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir and immediately summons her Lucky Charm, a remote control drone. Since it hasn't lied, it can go into the dome and be used as surveillance while Cat Noir distracts Lies. While it seems like nobody inside the dome can touch Lies, Ladybug realizes that Fang, Jagged Stone's pet crocodile, hasn't lied either, so she uses the drone to lure him out of the building.

Cat Noir thinks of a way to distract Lies by doing what he always does to increase the tension.

You know, I thought of a little game we could play. Why don't we count how many times Cat Noir sacrifices himself this season? So far, the Cat Noir Self-Kill Counter is at 1, but I'm guessing it will be higher the longer this season goes on.

So while Lies is distracted by Cat Noir's unconscious body, Fang runs over and breaks her corrupted object, Marinette's charm. So after using Miraculous Ladybug, Ladybug runs over and, for good reason, I may add, scolds Cat Noir for recklessly sacrificing himself yet again.

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You know if this plan failed, not only would Shadowmoth get your Miraculous, but Ladybug would be all alone, you idiot! And we're supposed to find this reckless endangerment funny!? Seriously, Ladybug smiles at Cat Noir's stupid little quip as he still flirts with her right after he got into a fight with his girlfriend.

The next day, Adrien apologizes to Kagami, but she says she can't trust him, not as a boyfriend, and not as a friend either. And here is the problem with the Adrigami breakup. Like with the Lukanette breakup, it chooses to focus on one detail instead of the other, and glaringly obvious detail. The episode is trying to say that the whole reason Kagami and Adrien can't work as a couple is because of Adrien keeping his life as Cat Noir a secret. In reality, both of them have problems that they need to work on before they consider dating. Kagami has shown herself to be a massive control freak in this episode because of her own vision of what Adrien is like, showing she doesn't respect his boundaries or beliefs.

And Adrien? Where do I begin?

Adrien clearly shows several signs that he hasn't moved on from Ladybug with how much he flirts with her, even before he and Kagami got together, and there's the fact that unlike Marinette who realizes how she can't have a love life, it doesn't feel like Adrien actually learned that lesson.

We are supposed to see Adrien focusing on his secret life as Cat Noir as the responsible thing to do, and that like Ladybug, he needs to prioritize being Cat Noir over dating. The thing is that this episode has only showed how he doesn't take any of the hero stuff seriously. Throughout the episode, he treats being Cat Noir as a fun pasttime, when it comes to craving Ladybug's attention to the point where he's just short of causing an Akuma attack out of desperation until he sees someone else to spend time with, constantly flirts with Ladybug despite how annoyed she can come across, doesn't understand any of the stuff she has to deal with now that she's Guardian, and will sacrifice himself all so Ladybug can do all the work for him. He doesn't care about anything unless he gains something in return. It doesn't matter if lives are in danger, he thinks his personal feelings are more important because his civilian life is sO hAaArRd.

At one point when we were all kids, we all wanted to be superheroes because we all thought the idea of having superpowers and the freedom to do whatever we wanted sounded awesome. But that's not what being a hero is. We never thought about the responsibility that comes with being a superhero. One of the main themes of superhero media that we all watched growing up was that they would help us to learn right from wrong, and that sometimes, personal sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, and our feelings just aren't that important in the grand scheme of things. Whether we learned this lesson from Superman, Spider-Man, Sailor Moon, the Power Rangers, or even the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, what matters is that by the time we reached the age of these heroes, we would have a similar moral compass so we would understand why these heroes would make some of the choices they did, and we would be able to make similar choices if we encountered situations like the ones they went through.

Part of growing up is realizing that being a superhero isn't all fun and games. Sometimes, you need to put your own personal desires aside to make sure nobody gets hurt because of something you did or didn't do. We are currently in the fourth season of this show, and after 82 episodes, Cat Noir has still failed to learn that lesson. He doesn't understand that even if his “true self” is clowning around, that's not how a hero acts. You don't see Batman or Captain America acting this way, and you don't see real life soldiers or emergency workers acting this way either.

And that's not even getting into the fact that this is the same problem the Lukanette breakup had. Even though Marinette had a valid reason to break things off with Luka because she realized being Guardian was more important, the narrative framed it like she was still into Adrien, no matter if she was making an effort to get over him. Likewise, even though both Adrien and Kagami have issues the narrative refuses to actually acknowledge, they frame it as Adrien's hero life was ruining their relationship, when in reality, the reasons for both the Adrigami breakup and the Lukanette breakup should have been flipped. “Truth” should have been about Marinette coming to terms with her new responsibilities as the Guardian, and “Lies” should have been about Adrien realizing he needs to work on his own personal issues before he considers his feelings for Kagami or Ladybug.

So the episode just ends with Ladybug and Cat Noir saying that even if they have to keep secrets about their identities, they can still trust each other. Also, before Kagami dumped him, Adrien reaffirmed his feelings for Ladybug (the only time they were actually referenced outside of flirting and his phone's wallpaper), which implies that Adrien is going to continue to pursue Ladybug, having learned nothing from this whole episode.

You know, after watching both this episode and “Truth”, and seeing how it undid two of the major changes from the Season 3 finale, does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all? Does it almost feel like you've been here before? How am I gonna be a optimist about this? Hell if I know, this episode's honestly worse than “Truth” was.

Put aside your feelings on the Adrigami breakup, the pacing here was awful. Because the writers thought it would be interesting to have some continuity for once by having it take place right after “Truth”, the timeline is incredibly confusing. Can Shadowmoth just create more Akumas at once without having to recharge? And shouldn't Ladybug and Cat Noir be exhausted from having to fight two Akumas and a Sentimonster in one day?

Even then, about half of the episode was spent following Adrien as he whined about how hard he supposedly has it, proving despite what Astruc continues to state, he is far from perfect, and like what he loves to say about Chloe, refuses to change. Wow, that's so interesting. And we're supposed to feel bad for Cat Noir and be mad at Ladybug for missing their patrol, forgetting everything she's been going through in the last week, considering how Gabriel just fixed the Peacock Miraculous, suggesting that the events of “Truth” and “Lies” happened not too long after “Miracle Queen”. Even the Akuma fight wasn't that interesting because it was crammed into about five minutes thanks to everything else going on in this episode.

In an attempt to make the audience sympathize with him, this episode only made me loathe the way Adrien is portrayed even more. Seriously, he reaches “Frozer” levels of unlikability in this episode. Maybe he'll get some much needed character development, but given how much Astruc will put him on a pedestal and ignore his flaws, I don't think it's going to happen anytime soon.

But I still don't see the point of spending so much time building up this relationship for two seasons just to end it as soon as they hook up. At the end of the day, all Lukanette and Adrigami amounted to was filler. It was a way to get in some romantic scenes for the fans while the writers continue to drag out the Love Square drama like a taffy puller. And now that Luka and Kagami have served their purpose, watch as Astruc and the other writers start to slowly remove them from the narrative until they appear about as often as Nino does now.

After all, why care about anything in this show that isn’t related to the Love Square? It’s clear none of the writers do.

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cherishedproperty · 4 years ago

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I'm pretty new to kink, and this is the first time I've had an experienced dom partner I trust that brings out my sub side, which is exciting. I've been reading a lot of your posts, and I appreciate your perspective. Any advice or resources for first time impact play? 🙌🏻🙏🏻 -gingr

Hi! It’s great that you’ve found someone who brings out your submissive side. In terms of resources for starting out in impact, the best thing I can recommend is @instructor144’s piece on calibration (and what’s on his calibration tag). But I think what it comes down to is this:

Go slow. Don’t go from a hand spanking to a bunch of different implements. It can be intimidating and can make it hard to really figure out what you like or don’t like. Sometimes fear of the unknown will make you think you dislike something when really you just needed some time for your brain to understand what the heck is going on. Too much newness all at once is going to make it hard for your brain to process. So try only a few things at once, and build up intensity with each one slowly. It doesn’t make you a wimp; it just means you’re helping your Dominant to learn you more effectively.

Figure out what you like. This one might seem obvious, but as a submissive, sometimes it isn’t. I did impact with multiple people before anyone really asked me what I liked. I just thought my Dominant was supposed to decide, and I was supposed to take it. But your Dominant should give you enough control and exposure to new things to really understand what you like. Depending on the parameters of your relationship, you may not always get it in the way you like it. But you should at least know what you like.

Communicate before, during, and after a scene. Talk about safewords and how you plan to use them. Talk about the kind of spanking it will be and what headspace you’re aiming to build together. I find it helpful when my Dominant tells me if he wants me to get to subspace or if he wants to hurt me. Then during the impact session, help your partner calibrate what you can take. Either do a formal 1-10 calibration or just use words to say “I can’t take much more of <implement>” or “please Sir can you do a little more like that”. After, make sure you talk about what you liked and didn’t like, where you struggled, what you were feeling, etc. Each person is different, so your partner can only learn how you experience it if you tell them.

Figure out what things work for you and when. This can be implements but also things like how you need to be warmed up. I used to think I hated impact because it fucking hurt, and I spent the first chunk a scene wondering WHY THE HELL DO I LIKE THIS? But I learned that a slow warmup helps my mind to relax and prepare for more intense things. And also, I know there are some days when I am more emotionally sensitive, and my partner needs to approach impact differently. Just understand there’s a lot to learn about yourself and how you respond.

Do a little research on the brain chemistry behind impact. I don’t have any resources handy, but I point this out so you understand things like why warmups are helpful, how subspace works, and why some people experience drop after a scene. Drop can feel like a very intense depression, and it can be really distressing the first time it happens. But understanding the brain chemistry behind it can help you to spot it early and figure out ways to minimize it.

Have fun. It’s supposed to be fun and connecting. Explore together. Share and learn. But try not to put too much pressure on yourself!

I hope this is helpful, but anyone else, feel free to chime in on useful things to know as a newbie bottom!

#ask #my ask

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boymeetsweevil · 4 years ago

Text

in your court

Grouping: Reader x B-ball player!Jaehyun (feat. BFF!Hyuck)

Word Count: ~10.8k

Warnings/Themes: Two idiots in love, oc is scary when mad, hyuck is crafty always, jae is a bit intense but he’s just trying his best, gratuitous descriptions of dimples, a kiss!!! sfw!

Prompt: “awkward!oc with his basketball teammate jaehyun. Honestly anything with bff!haechan.”

“Make sure you don’t make it look shaky.”

Donghyuck puts the phone camera close to his face so he can better see your handiwork through the video call. He looks a bit like a fish, but you can’t see him because you’re focused on the mirror in front of you.

“Remind me why I’m being forced to do this?”

“Because I’m your best friend and I deserve a sign just as much as Jisung and Johnny.”

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes so you don’t mess up the number 14 you’re drawing carefully onto your cheek in eyeliner. Although you hate to see good makeup go to waste, you’re trying to be a better friend while also trying not to accidentally write the number backwards. It’s Donghyuck’s new number this season and he begged you to show some team spirit despite the fact that you normally mix with sports the same way oil mixes with water. The last time you showed up at practice was the first day of the season and you fell from the third courtside bleacher after Donghyuck called you over to introduce you to a cute new walk-on team member. If anything, just being around sports is dangerous for you.

A minute later, you sneeze while holding the pencil and draw a huge line straight through all your hard work. Donghyuck literally screams and you hang up the call to focus. When you finally finish redrawing on the side of your face, there’s half an hour left before the first home game of the spring season starts. You grab the matching construction paper sign you made earlier, complete with a huge gold glitter 14, and head out the door. Taeyong is supposed to pick you up so you can make it to the gym on time. He’s the only other friend you have who is remotely associated with sports and that’s only because he’s dating one of the players, Doyoung.

The ticket Donghyuck gave you days ago places you near the court’s side with a near-perfect view. You settle in and wait for the game to begin. The team is already out on half of the court, doing some light warmup tosses and making the occasional mean eye at the visiting team practicing on the other half. You catch your best friend’s eye and he lights up when he sees the sign and eyeliner drawing.

“Check me out, Hyuck!”

You turn to give him a full view of your profile, subtly proud of your skills.

“Look at you,” he drawls as he jogs over to you, “You know, I think this is the best your eyeliner has ever looked.”

“God, you’re so annoying.”

You try your best to cast an elbow at him without disturbing the still slightly wet glitter on the sign. When you nearly take out the old man sitting directly in front of you, you settle for flipping him off.

“Wait,” Taeyong peers at the sign, “Aren’t you—”

“I think Doyoung said he was looking for you. Something about wanting a good luck kiss.”

Taeyong narrows his eyes but still stands up to go look for said boyfriend. Doyoung’s not the nervous type, but he’s also not the type to say no to some pre-game affection. You watch Taeyong disappear towards the locker room while Donghyuck steps over some of the fans already seated and takes the now open spot next to you.

“Hey,” he says with no trace of humor in his voice any longer. “Promise you’ll still be my friend after this game?”

You place the sign on your lap and turn to look at your friend. Lately the coach has been pushing him harder and you suppose it’s starting to wear down his usual confidence. With the hand that’s not covered in little golden glitter flecks, you reach down to rub his shoulder.

“Of course I will, Hyuck. And even if you guys don’t win tonight, I’m still taking you to get food after. My treat.”

It was supposed to be a rare moment of sincere friendliness. But this seems to distress him further because he looks down at your hand on his arm and then groans before covering his face in his hands. You’re confused but you don’t have any time to ask him what’s up. A few of his teammates walk over then.

“Sorry to break up the love fest, but Coach wants us to do some stretches before the whistle,” team captain Johnny says, gesturing to the other side of the gym where some other players are already contorting themselves.

Behind Johnny stands that new walk-on. The one you fell on your face in front of. He takes in your temporary face tattoo and overly detailed sign and smirks, allowing a dimple to wink at you. You can only hope to every deity in the universe that he doesn’t remember the way you first met.

“Hey,” he smiles good-naturedly. “Glad to see you made it here in one piece.”

“Thank you,” you say with way too much sincerity.

It’s enough to knock Donghyuck out of his bad mood and make him snort loudly beside you. The new guy smiles a bit wider, revealing a twin dimple. You look away.

“Don’t get too friendly, Jung,” Donghyuck says with fake menace in his voice. “There’s only room for one Dream Team member in her life, and that’s me.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you guys were—”

“We’re just friends,” you blurt out before looking down at the fascinating liver spots on the old man’s head in front of you.

“Yeah, she wishes.”

“I definitely don’t,” you snap.

He sticks his tongue out at you. “Well, I’m glad you don’t.”

“Guys, come on!” Johnny calls a moment before the coach’s whistle blows to give a final warning.

As they walk over to the side of the gym you curse yourself for acting so weird in front of that Jung kid. If he didn’t think you were a dope when you tripped over nothing the first time you met, you’re certain he thinks you have the charms of a 13 year-old boy by now. The only thing that snaps you out of it is the fact that Donghyuck is in a time of distress and clearly needs his friend.

With squared shoulders and a new sense of duty, you try your hardest to be the world’s best cheerleader. You’re not really sure how sports work, basketball included. The game itself turns out to be really fun. Even though you’re not quite sure what’s happening. Taeyong sends you a text with a picture of your own mildly confused face contorted into a pout as you raise your handmade sign a moment too late, after everyone has already sat back down. But eventually you figure it out after enough times of standing when people around you wearing school colors stand up first. You know enough to cheer every time Donghyuck takes the ball to the basket and boo loudly every time he gets knocked down or his shot misses. In fact, you get so into it that you catch yourself cheering for other players. You even make the mistake of cheering once for new kid Jung but immediately stop when he catches a glimpse of you in the stands and shoots you a beaming smile.

They win by a small margin, thanks to a 3 pointer Johnny shot in the first half of the game. By the time that happens, you feel like you have a good feel for the game. You don’t have to wait for the other fans from your school to stand up when the last buzzer rings, and you instinctively run out onto the court with the rest of them as the final score settles. There’s adrenaline and joy pushing you into Donghyuck’s arms. He’s genuinely surprised but welcomes the greeting, spinning you lightly while he laughs.

“Congrats on the first win of the season,” you shout when you finally pull back. He lets you squish his cheeks in excitement. Doyoung ambles over then, looking for Taeyong. You offer him congratulations as well.

“Thanks,” he smirks a bit as he takes in your large sign and the slightly smudged 14 on your cheek. “Shouldn’t Jaehyun be the first to hear it, though?”

You raise a confused brow.

“Shouldn’t I be the first to hear what?”

You can’t help the way you stumble back against Donghyuck at the deep sound of Jung—no— Jaehyun’s voice. He looks pleased. Probably with the outcome of their first game.

“I was just saying you should get the first ‘congrats’,” Doyoung explains, nodding in your direction. Jaehyun blinks, but takes it in stride.

“I’d be glad to receive it,” he says with a grin. His dimples pop out even more than usual under the sheen of sweat and the glow from the fluorescents. “So, what’d you think? How’d I do?”

You have no idea why but your heart is beating like it’ll fly out of your chest. It takes everything in you to muster up a cool and natural response.

“You throw good.”

Donghyuck, the traitor that he is, gets sent into a cackling fit. If you listen carefully, between the gasps for air and the hyena-pitched giggles you can hear him calling you a dork. You’d turn to yell at him, but he’s right. Doyoung barely covers up his own laughter while leaning on Donghyuck’s shoulder to try to disguise the sound as a series of coughs. But Jaehyun merely smiles down at his shoes as if he’s somehow moved by your clunky words.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“No, I feel like I did well today thanks to your little sign.”

“The sign? Oh. Actually, this is for—”

In that moment you realize two things. The first is that Jaehyun’s jersey has a big 14 emblazoned on the front of it. Just like the one you spent 10 whole minutes drawing onto your right cheek. And the one you spent 2 hours glittering the night before. The second is that you aren’t nearly as observant as you thought you were. Then you realize a third thing: Donghyuck is slowly creeping away from you as it all clicks together in your head.

When you turn to face your friend, the color has already drained out of his neck. He can see the wheels turning in your head and he raises his hands in a placating gesture, but you cut him off before he can even start. Grabbing at his jersey you make him turn around until you can see the white number 6 emblazoned on the fabric. It’s the same number he had last season, and the season before that.

“Just to clarify,” you begin with an unsettlingly calm voice, “When you asked me earlier if I would still be your friend after the game, you were talking about this, right?”

Donghyuck’s eyes go wide and dart around anywhere but your face. “You know what? I think you’re thinking of my brother, Hyongduck. We look a lot alike, so it’s an honest mistake.”

The coach calling him over in that moment is the only thing that keeps you from eviscerating him on the court with so many witnesses. You let him go, but not without him having to un-pry your fingers from his jersey. Jaehyun watches on with amusement in his eyes and you remember that he saw you nearly Hulk out on your friend.

“So, you actually didn’t know my number was 14?”

You shake your head, “I thought it was Hyuck’s.”

“I see.”

He tilts his head again, with eyes narrowed he looks you over before looking past you to where Donghyuck has finally made it to locker room safety.

“Well,” he fiddles with the chain around his neck, “I’m kind of sad the sign isn’t actually mine.”

“Oh. I mean, you can keep it if you want.”

Jaehyun’s head ducks down a second time, shaking his head at the ground like he heard something funny that you couldn’t hear. He does take the sign out of your hands though. With slow hands, he wraps the construction paper up until all the remaining glitter is safely tucked away.

“What about that one?”

“What do you mean?”

He points at his own cheek to mirror yours. You had forgotten all about the 14 you drew on your face to go with the sign.

“I don’t—I don’t know if you can wrap this one up, you know” you laugh stiltedly.

“Yeah. But I could always take a bit for the road. May I?”

All you can do is let out an eloquent ‘huh’ before he’s reaching out then and swiping away at some of the eyeliner that had moved around during the game. The drag of the pad of his thumb across your cheek should be completely harmless. Donghyuck has been infinitely rougher with his handling of you; one of the privileges of close friendship. And yet it’s this soft touch that has your breath leaving you like he punched it out of you. You swear the corner of his mouth raises, but it could be a trick of the light.

“What are you doing after—”

“I gotta go, sorry. Good game,” you toss over your shoulder before pulling your phone up to your ear like you’re taking a sudden phone call.

No one has to know that you spend the next few minutes dunking your head under one of the running faucets in an empty locker room to cool your heated face.

---

Nearly 20 minutes later, Donghyuck is tiptoeing out of the men’s locker room. He doesn’t notice the shadow waiting for him. When he deems the coast all clear, he opens up his messaging app and shoots you a text asking for your whereabouts.

“I’m right here.”

He jumps nearly 3 feet in the air before letting the scream that built in his throat turn into a whine. You’re just barely visible in the dark corner of the gym. If he squints you look a bit like his sleep paralysis demon.

“You scared me,” he says as he takes a step back only to hit a wall.

“Funny how that happens.”

You pull out your phone, stilling standing in the dark, and let the light from your phone cast eerie shadows across your face. Donghyuck gulps audibly as he watches you type slowly in response to his text. The sound of his phone notification moments later sounds deafening in the otherwise silent space.

You (21:39) - Run.

“Look, let’s talk this out like adults.” His hands come up, palms exposed like you’re a feral animal.

“I knew you weren’t number 14,” your voice is steady and devoid of emotion as you take a step towards him.

“Then you shouldn’t have fallen for it—shit. Wait!”

He trips in his haste to get away from you and falls. You foot lands dangerously close to his face as you come to stand in over him and he grimaces.

“Please don’t kill me, I’ll do anything.”

“Why did you tell me your number was Jaehyun’s number? Make it good and maybe I’ll let you live.”

“I just felt like it.”

“What the hell!”

“I’m serious.”

“Wrong answer, Hyuck.”

With that, you wriggle a foot free from one of your sneakers and shove your socked foot over his nose. You’ve been wearing the shoes all day and, because you forgot to do laundry the night before, the socks are recycled. The sound of Donghyuck’s cries for help make you slightly better and you smile softly to yourself.

You would think that Donghyuck would have learned his lesson about not causing chaos in your life after a face-full of foot. But you should know that it’s practically his job description after knowing him for as long as you have. Sometimes you love that about him and sometimes you kind of hate him for it. This time, you hate him for it.

Donghyuck prefaces the outing as a way of apologizing for tricking you. Normally you would have been slightly more critical. The first thing to tip you off should have been the fact the “apology" in question was coming almost two and a half weeks after the fateful jersey swap accident. The second thing should have been that the “apology” was coming in the form of a trip to a very specific tea house you don’t frequent because you’re not a tea person. And Donghyuck knows this. Because he knows everything else about you. Like which sweatpants you wear when you’re feeling bloated or when you just need a hug. But mainly you should have known something was up because it was Donghyuck. When he feels like he should do something, there’s no stopping him.

“What do you want to order,” he asks while holding the front door open for you to pass through.

“A smoothie.”

“It’s a damn tea house, order something normal.”

“A smoothie is normal.”

“Do you order hot dogs at seafood restaurants too,” he pins you with a tired glare. You mirror the glare and add crossed arms.

“If they don’t have a smoothie, then I don’t want anything.”

You take a look around at the interior of the shop. It’s the polar opposite of the shops you usually frequent, which are all trendy with their mixes of dark, unfinished woodwork and sleek minimalist furniture. This place is almost cottage-like in the ornateness of the older architecture and the collection of kitschy antique pieces. You’re not surprised to see that a good deal of the patrons are older, some verging on elderly. There’s only a handful of people who look like they could be your peers. One of them looks oddly familiar. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something familiar about the way he stands and the delicate gold links laying across the back of his neck.

“Jaehyun,” Donghyuck calls a bit too excitedly, “Hey, man is that you? What are you doing here”

“You told me to meet you—” Donghyuck cuts him off with a dramatic gasp and a glance at his bare wrist.

“Aw, would you look at the time. I actually have somewhere to be right now, so I can’t stick around.”

“But you drove us here,” you whip your head around to look at him, but he coughs suddenly and looks away.

“Yeah, sorry. No time to drop you back off at your place, so I guess you have to figure that out yourself. Jae drives though. Maybe you can figure something out.”

Neither of you really know what to say. You watch silently with your mouth open in disbelief as Donghyuck turns on his heel and struts out of the tea shop exit, whistling contentedly. You suppose that if you’re the god of chaos reincarnated, all of this would feel like a good day’s work. You berate yourself for recently washing your socks.

“Good to see you again,” Jaehyun says after a beat. He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Thought I had scared you off after...yeah.”

“Oh, right. That.”

The air feels both too thick and too thin at the same time. You want to leave, every fiber of your being is screaming at you to leave before you do something weird in front of him again. But you can’t move. So you stand there, 3 feet away and not saying anything as Jaehyun looks over the large chalkboard menu hanging above the head of the older woman who is manning the front counter.

“What are you getting?”

“Me? Uh, I don’t know. I’m not really a tea person.”

“Well, what kind of person are you?”

Given the context, it’s a harmless question. But there’s a sing-songy lilt to the way he asks the question. It’s so blatant that curiosity gets the best of you and you stop purposefully avoiding looking at him. One of his dimples is out and he’s very nearly poking the tip of his tongue out at you, like he knows you’re suffering and he thinks it's funny. Almost like he’s flirting. Almost.

“I’m a smoothie person,” you finally say. “But there’s no smoothies on the menu.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“But doesn’t it say ‘no customizations’?”

There’s a sign on the edge of the counter that says just that. Despite the fact that it’s written in beautiful, looping cursive, there’s an ominous tone to the message. Like the little old lady behind the counter might actually make you into tea if you asked for a frappe or something. You’re a little worried for Jaehyun’s safety. He must sense some sort of hesitance because he brushes it off and gestures toward the rest of the shop.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it, you can go grab us a table.”

The way he says ‘us’ so casually has you tripping slightly over nothing. He’s somehow there in the nick of time to grab at your elbow in a gentlemanly fashion to help steady you. Perhaps you yank yourself out of his proximity a little too quickly. But it’s only because you really want to find a good table and you can’t do that if Jaehyun is distracting you by grabbing at your limbs.

In actuality, though, the tea shop is fairly vacant. There are a variety of tables with pressed white tablecloths and dainty tiered tea trays housing pastries. You pick one at random and sit down. Part of you really does wish you’d left when Donghyuck did. But the other part is curious to see what Jaehyun’s like when he’s away from his team and truly outside the context you usually find him in. So you compromise and watch as subtly as you can.

He seems fairly similar—all charming smiles and pretty hair while approaching the counter to talk with the lady you assume is the owner of the shop. She looks stern as she polishes some dainty bone china, but brightens when he comes to the counter. You watch in quiet awe as she reaches a hand up to pat fondly at the side of his face, most likely pinching a cheek from the angle you’re sitting at. You see him run a hand over the back of his neck which grows red after he says something to her that she must not like. Her brow grows heavy and her lips purse but he says something else then that has her directing her sharp gaze at you. You gulp and pretend you were merely admiring the tea sandwich tray on the table as opposed to spying. A wave of sudden embarrassment comes over you and you open up your phone to text Donghyuck

You (15:38) - this is a shit apology just so u know

You (15:38) - come get me plz

Hyuck (15:40) - sorry suddenly cant read dont know what that says :)

You place your phone face down onto the table and cross your arms with a huff. While trying to plan an escape that makes you look the least asshole-y possible, Jaehyun returns with the drinks. More specifically, he returns with a tall water glass in one hand that’s filled with a pale tea with fruit chunks and mint leaves sprinkled throughout. The other hand is encased in a floral appliqué oven mitt that holds the prettiest squat little teapot you’ve ever seen. It’s blue, so it doesn’t match the pastel green teacups organized on the tablecloth, but it’s still a lovely sight.

“What’s this,” you stir at the fruit in the glass with an elegant teaspoon.

“It’s a chilled fruit tea,” he explains while casually pouring himself a steaming cup of black tea. “I tried my hardest with Mrs. Li, but there was no way I was gonna get you a smoothie. This is the closest thing I could get.”

“You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble. I would have been fine with just a water. I don’t want to get you in trouble with the owner.”

“Don’t worry. I think my reputation is fine for now.”

It’s weirdly fascinating to watch him fix up his tea. As a member of a basketball team, you would have never thought he’d be a tea drinker. Let alone a tea drinker who takes heaping spoonfuls of sugar to go with a tiny splash of milk in his tea. He hums a little to himself as he stirs it all with a silver spoon that’s been crafted to look like roses are growing up the stem. When he looks up a moment later, he catches you staring at him. His eyes crinkle and they look like they did when he looked at you after shooting a 3 at the latest home game, full of quiet joy. Both then and now you’re not sure what the smile means or why it seems to be for you. You look down and realize his lips are moving.

“What?”

He chuckles at how far away you sound. “I said ‘how’s the tea?’”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know yet. I got distracted. I was...thinking.”

“Mhm.” There’s smugness practically oozing out of his thoughtful hum.

You take a sip to appease him and frantically search for something to say that won’t make it obvious that you aren’t a fan of tea, but then you stop yourself. It’s no smoothie, but it really is the next best thing. The tea is cold like a smoothie, providing the same reprieve from the sticky heat of Spring. The tea with all its macerated berries and mint leaves is sweet and thick much like a smoothie.

“This is amazing,” you peer down at the cup like you’re not sure where half the glass went.

A light weight lands on your shoulder then. “That’s very kind of you, dear. High praise coming from a non-tea-drinker.”

It takes a lot of effort not to scream and even then your eyes open comically wide and you jump in your seat. Jaehyun has to disguise his laughter at your reaction by turning away in his seat as you turn in yours to face the old lady who was at the counter.

“I’m sorry for any trouble you went to so you could make this, Mrs. Li, Ma’am. I told Jaehyun that I wanted a smoothie and he was just trying to make me feel comfortable.”

“Oh, I know. Jaehyun’s been coming to the shop since I opened it, so he should know all about my ban on requests.” Mrs. Li eyes Jaehyun as he takes an innocent sip of his tea. “He’s always been courteous about it, so I thought he must have a darn good reason for breaking my rule this time.”

Jaehyun’s hand slips while pouring a second cup, but he doesn’t say anything as Mrs. Li continues to expose him.

“Now, that reminds me. Jaehyun, my boy, I’m sorry to tell you that Kevin won’t be coming to his sessions this week. He has a dentist appointment and it can’t be helped,” she sighs and waves her hands.

“That’s alright. As long as he practices a little every day he should be in good shape and we can pick up right where we stopped.”

She nods and for a moment the serious expression on her face morphs into something softer. Patting the back of his chair, she looks over the table and then at you.

“Alright. I hope everything is to your liking, but if something does come up do feel free to tell Jaehyun. He’s a very capable young man and he knows the shop like the back of his hand. I’d better get back to work now. The silver won’t polish itself.”

You wait a few beats to be respectful, but as soon as Mrs. Li returns to her post behind the counter you gulp down the rest of your tea and lean in.

“Who’s Kevin?”

“Her 9 year old grandson. I teach him and his younger brother piano on the weekends.”

“Oh, that’s—that’s nice,” you nod coolly. At least, you hope it appears cool. Internally you’re scrambling.

Of course your best friend’s basketball teammate teaches piano to young kids. Of course he helps the elderly tea shop lady with her store. Of course he drinks sweet tea out of blue floral teacups. Of course.

He’s finally ready to go after a third cup. You’re not sure where he’s putting it all, but it seems to be a regular occurrence for him. He takes your glass from you before you can argue about your own ability to do it and walks back over to the counter. Now more than ever you wish you could read lips. He goes around the counter to wash the glass in the farmer’s sink in the back and then stops briefly to say something to Mrs. Li. She says something back with a smile that has his cheeks flaming. He leaves a bill on the counter and comes back mumbling about his tea being too hot when you stare at his face. You’re not sure how true that is given how fast he downed those cups.

When you emerge from the tea shop, the sun is shining from a different angle and the temperature has mellowed out.

“My car is a few blocks that way,” he points in the direction of the parking lot nearby.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” Even with his soft tone, his voice is firm and you don’t try to fight him on it.

But it’s strange walking with Jaehyun silently. It feels entirely too companionable despite the fact that you don’t even know him.

“Do you...want to play 20 questions?”

He stops in his tracks, clearly not expecting you to talk without him coaxing you out of your shell. But after the initial shock fades, he nods.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“White,” he says immediately. “What’s your major?”

“Studio art. Do you play other sports?”

“Nah. Is Donghyuck your best friend?”

“Yeah, Hyuck’s my best friend.”

“Is he...protective?”

“Protective? Of what?”

“You, I guess.”

“Hyuck?” You let out a snort because the thought is just hilarious. “On the right day I’m pretty sure he’d sell me to Satan for a fresh order of sweet potato fries.”

“I see,” he purses his lips like he’s in deep thought before returning back to the present moments later. “You get two since I asked two.”

“Do you like it here, now that it’s been a while since you transferred?”

“Yeah,” he looks you in the eyes. “I like it here.”

You swallow a bit too audibly but power through and keep asking questions. It takes nearly half an hour to walk the two and a half blocks leading to the parking lot. Even after that, Jaehyun takes a scenic route back to the main campus. When he pulls up outside your dorm, you’re not sure what to say, but it feels like something should be said. The sun is near setting and he’s haloed by the dying rays as he leans on the steering wheel to make sure you make it inside.

After giving a little awkward nod, you drag yourself out of the cabin of his car. There’s only a few steps left until you reach the door when he calls out. You turn.

“So,” he trails off, drumming his hands on the steering wheel before adjusting the mirror even though he’s in park and no one is coming. “Donghyuck has, like, a million fans.”

“What?”

“I just mean that he’s been on the team for years, he has a fan base. But I’m just a transfer student, so I don’t have that. And, you know, it’s really nice to have someone to cheer for you.” He tests the waters and looks at you hesitantly before continuing. “I still have your poster.”

All you can do is blink as you realize what’s going on. Or, you think you know what’s going on. And it makes zero sense to you, but you have a habit of overthinking things anyway. You kick at a pebble near the toe of your shoe, taking some time to muster up the courage to be presumptuous in a way you’re not used to.

“I can...I can make you another sign. If you want. Or like wear your number.” He grins and in that moment it seems to outshine the fading sun. “So you don’t feel left out.”

“I’d like that.” He starts the car up then, still grinning as he looks down to shift gears and adjust all his mirrors yet again. “Tell Hyuck he doesn’t need to set aside tickets anymore.”

“Okay,” is your witty reply before turning once more with a too warm face.

He waves at your retreating back before putting the car into drive.

Everyone on the team knows that every once in a while Donghyuck likes to come to practice a lot earlier than is probably normal. It’s not strange to come in when there’s 30, 40, even 50 minutes before practice starts and find him practicing footwork or doing layups on the court alone.

Jaehyun hedges a guess that he’ll find Donghyuck in the gym a good hour before practice starts one day and is pleased to find that his intuition was correct. There’s music blasting from a portable speaker and Donghyuck is doing some of the drills the coach likes to run, but done with his non-dominant hand.

When the ball rolls to a stop and Donghyuck moves to get some water, Jaehyun announces himself.

“Hey.”

“You quitting already?”

“Not yet,” Donghyuck takes in the serious set of Jaehyun’s jaw and shoulders. “We can do a 1-on-1. If you’re up for it.”

Jaehyun nods and sheds his outer layers on the sidelines. Donghyck wonders if he’s angry about something, perhaps that about practice a few days ago where he went a little too hard on Jaehyun and bashed his cheek with an elbow during a scrimmage. He braces himself for some incoming aggression, knowing he may deserve it a little.

They settle for leaving the ball on the ground in the paint since the equipment cabinet is still locked until the coach arrives. Both of them sprint from the freethrow line, with Jaehyun grabbing the ball first. Donghyuck moves into defense easily, having been in game mode for who knows how long. Jaehyun isn’t nearly as tough in his offense as Donghyck expected. In fact, he’s playing surprisingly light.

“What’s up with you,” Donghyuck says after the first basket.

Jaehyun catches the ball after it falls from the basket, jogging it back to the starting position. Donghyuck waits for him back at the freethrow line, brows raised but otherwise silent.

“Nothing’s up. Nothing big, I mean.”

“You’re a pretty bad liar.”

The words catch Jaehyun by surprise and he stumbles a bit coming off the line. Donghyuck uses the momentary shock to his advantage and steals the ball. The point comes easy as he basically runs a circle around his competitor.

“Since I won that point, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

Donghyuck doesn’t bother going back to the freethrow line and instead goes back to dribbling practice. His rhythm is slow with his off hand, but steady. Better than Jaehyun’s with his off hand.

“Do you believe in bro code?”

Donghyuck snorts. “I guess. You’re not gonna ask me for my mom’s phone number, are you?”

“No. Not your mom’s,” Jaehyun trails off.

Instantly Donghyuck knows what this is about. Or who. Your face flashes in his mind and he has to bite his own cheek to keep from laughing. Being your best friend gives him exclusive access to just how awkward you can be. But the fact that Jaehyun resorted to all this buildup is kind of hilarious.

“Aw, you guys are cute.”

“What?” Jaehyun’s cheeks grow pink. “Why is this cute?”

“Look, you don’t need to ask me first or do whatever this is. I’m not her keeper. And I’m not gonna sabotage you, either.” Jaehyun’s shoulders lose some of their squared off edge.

“Okay,” he nods. “Thanks, man.”

“I could use a favor, though.”

“Oh. What is it?”

“I have a meeting with Coach after practice today. But I also really need to pick something up at the stationery store before tomorrow. Can you go pick it up for me?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Cool. I’ll text you the details later.”

---

Jaehyun arrives at the stationery store with his phone in hand. The note from Donghyuck mentions some special set of paints with a foreign-sounding name. As he walks through the aisles of the little store, Jaehyun wonders who the paints are for. The note also mentioned that they were a gift for someone, but it doesn’t say who the someone is.

It takes a few laps around the store, and by the time he spots the little nook for the brand, the store owner's voice had already sounded through the overhead speakers to say that the shop would be closing soon. He grabs the last box left and quietly rejoices. Donghyuck had bartered your number for the price of running the errand. If Jaehyun could get the paints, then he could get the number. The odd part was that Donghyuck had mentioned something about Jaehyun possibly not even needing to ask him for the number if he played his cards right. Originally he had shrugged the comment off, but it did raise the hairs on the back of his neck a bit. There’s something about Donghyuck that feels akin to a cartoon villain, but Jaehyun can’t put his finger on it.

“Checking out?”

“Yeah,” he hands the shop attendant the container of paints.

The attendant tries to scan the barcode, but a strange sound comes from the machine.

“I think something’s wrong with the barcode. If you can wait right here, I’ll go get another one to scan and give you that one instead.”

“Oh. That was actually the last one left.”

“I see.” The attendant presses some keys on the computer before nodding. “I think we should have a reference code in that backroom. I can go get that and punch it in manually if that’s okay.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be great.”

The attendant assures him it’ll only be a moment before leaving the counter and disappearing into the back of the store. Jaehyun waits patiently while leaning on the counter when the bell to the front door of the shop rings. Another customer has come in right before closing, and the sound of their labored breathing makes it clear that they know they’re cutting it close. The footsteps fade out and then grow louder once more after a few minutes. He takes a glance over his shoulder to see you standing a little bit behind him.

“Oh. Hi. H-hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Jaehyun turns completely and sets his phone on the counter. “What brings you here?”

“I’m just grabbing some paint. I ran out a few days ago and I have some big projects coming up.”

“That’s funny. I’m doing the same thing.”

“Do you paint,” your eyes grow a little bigger with the prospect. At the sight of your small smile, Jaehyun wishes he could paint for the first time ever.

“No, but I’d like to learn.” And it’s never been true before, but he means it in that moment.

“Well, I could—”

“Sorry for the delay,” the shop attendant comes jogging back from the backroom. “Another employee had the reference book, so I had to spend some time to hunt it down. But you should be all set now.”

Jaehyun sends an apologetic smile your way before turning back to finish checking out. Once he’s done, even though he’s on a tight schedule with this favor, he hangs back.

“—I’m sorry but we sold out of the Neo Color Technology paints. If you’d like, we can give you a call when the next shipment comes in, but there’s a two-week wait.”

“Ah, really? Okay.”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you think about what you’ll do now. The idea of continuing some of your projects with a new set of paints that could have a completely different set of hues makes you nervous. You just perfected the shade of green you needed at the base for your huge forest study. Now you’d have to start from scratch.

Jaehyun is trying his hardest not to eavesdrop, but the odd paint name catches his attention. It’s the same one he just bought, per Donghyuck’s request.

“You can have mine,” he blurts out. “I’m the one who bought the last ones. But I obviously don’t need them like you do.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, take them.”

Jaehyun hands you the bag. The smile you offer him in return is brilliant.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“God, no. Don’t worry about it.”

“Then, let me buy you a tea or something at least.” You hand him your phone. “Here, put your number in and you can pick a day. I’ll pay.”

So Jaehyun takes your phone and inputs his number. A moment later he gets a text from you, clarifying that it’s you. He feels victorious for a moment and then confused. Here he is, getting your number without having to ask, just like Donghyuck himself had mentioned. He’s getting this number because he gave you, Donghyuck’s friend, some paints. Paints that Donghyuck asked him to buy, as a gift to a mysterious friend.

Maybe Donghyuck is less like a villain and more like a twisted fairy godmother.

This little dance you keep doing with Jaehyun is strange, to say the least.

It felt odd to copy the number 14 onto your cheek for the first time knowing who it would really be for. And it felt weird to get so used to doing it that you can now copy the stencil in with practiced ease using the face paint you bought specifically for the occasion, no longer worrying about accidentally writing it backwards. All the while, you can barely make eye contact with him after a game, although you can practically feel the weight of his gaze when you make a beeline for Donghyuck after the last buzzer rings. And you can see the way his hand tugs at the gold chain around his neck as he approaches you cautiously. And you can hear the disappointment in his tone when he asks if you’re going to the house parties thrown by one of the players that typically follow the games only to hear you say no each time.

Another few weeks later finds you trying to make it through midterms. Donghyuck being a literature major means his midterms schedule is always different from yours. This time his midterms end much earlier, a few days earlier to be exact. You’re left to suffer through late night crunches to finish up paintings for one of your crits. Photoshopping some pieces for your digital art class leaves you so busy you don’t even register what’s going on around you.

“It’s my turn to host the post-game party,” he says after letting himself into your apartment one day. He drops the spare keyring reserved for him in the dish near the front door.

“Mhm.”

“But I feel like it would be a nice change to have it here.” When he makes a big show of dropping the takeout he brought you, you don’t even flinch at the sound of it hitting the table you’ve taken over.

“Sounds good,” is all you say as you try to find the one layer out of the 25 you had that you were looking for.

“Great, so I’ll probably stop by on Friday with stuff before the game to set up and then the team can just come through afterwards.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t hate me,” he places a kiss on the top of your head before wrinkling his nose when he smells your unwashed hair. “And don’t work yourself too hard, either.”

“Yeah...definitely.”

Friday comes by and you’re still working, so you have to skip the actual game itself. In the brief window of free time you had that morning, you wonder if you should text Jaehyun again so you can tell him you won’t be coming or bringing your little hand stenciled 14. But you decide against it. It’s a big game and he doesn’t need to be bogged down by unnecessary texts.

You’re actually away at your first crit when Donghyuck stops by again, this time with party supplies. When you come back, you barely register the mountain of beers and cheap wines sitting in your kitchen. All you want to do is sleep like the dead for a few hours. As you zombie walk to your room, you swear you hear him call to you to ask if he can store his balloons in the sink. With your last two brain cells you figure he must have said something else and you were just too tired to actually comprehend it.

Hours later, bass blaring through the thin walls of your place wakes you from your slumber. The details of your conversation with Donghyuck a few days prior come flooding back just as you pick up your pepper spray to drive out what you thought were home intruders. You leave your weapon behind and open your door just slightly. The music washes over you, louder now that the seal to your bedroom has been broken.

There’s plenty of voices coming outside that accompany the music. Even a few errant screams make it inside and to your ears. Courtesy of Chenle, no doubt. A few more brave steps outside your room and a glance out of the hallway window lets you know that you didn’t mishear Donghyuck. You see several of the guys chucking water balloons at one another on the grass outside. The pile of little teardrop-shaped balloons is admirably large and it becomes clear that they’ll be doing this for a while.

You’re not in the mood to get soaked or get mosquito bites just so you can seem friendly. After all, the party is being hosted in your apartment complex. That’s friendly enough, you reason. Once you’ve done a quick sweep through the rest of the apartment to make sure nothing is stolen, stained, or broken, you return to your room to get ready for bed properly. It takes a while because you have to wash your hair on top of everything else after receiving a very strongly worded text from Donghyuck.

While in your bathroom, brushing your teeth and watching a video Taeyong sent you, there’s jumbled knocking on your door. Barely any time passes between the last knock and the creak of someone leaning on your door as they open it. You curse to yourself before spitting in the sink.

“Hey, the bathroom for guests is actually—”

Jaehyun stands in the middle of your room, squinting at the tapestry you have hanging over your bed. The sound of his teeth chattering despite it being the peak of Spring is actually alarming enough to stop you from being mad that Donghuck didn’t think to put a clear sign towards the bathroom for the general public.

“I always thought your room would have candles in it,” Jaehyun drawls. He looks around once more like he’s hoping a candle will jump out of a hiding spot. All his movements are slow and sleepy.

“Are you drunk?”

He grins with eyes that droop closed. “Yep.”

“Great,” you mumble. When you take a step closer you realize the dark red sleeveless tank he’s wearing is actually dark from being saturated with water. “Why are you wet?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. We played water balloon tag. I lost the last round.”

Jaehyun places a clumsy finger to his lips and stage-whispers a loud “shh”. For some reason you mirror that back to him. He nods, satisfied with your reaction.

“Don’t tell the others, but I...” he hiccups “I got cold, so I came inside.”

“What’s wrong with telling them you’re cold.” He hangs his head in shame then. Clearly you’re missing something important.

“Hyuck says bad bitches never get cold.”

With his shoulders slumped forward in such a pitiful fashion, you actually feel bad for wanting to laugh. It’s surprising. Super surprising actually, considering Jaehyun’s presence in your room means Donghyuck forgot to do the one thing you ask of him when he hosts parties at your place—put clear signs for drunk people to follow to the guest bathroom. You usually don’t want to deal with drunk student athletes, but something about Jaehyun makes him exempt from that.

“You can warm up here.”

As soon as you say the words, you cringe. It sounds like the awful beginnings of a bad porno, but your intentions really are pure. There’s something too sad about watching him nearly doze off while standing up like a newborn colt. So you go and find the best hoodie that you have in your clean laundry and you risk going to the kitchen and getting hit with a runaway water balloon so you can put water on for tea. Hopefully it will warm him up while also sobering him up a little.

“Is this Hyuck’s shirt,” he asks as soon as you return with a steaming mug.

“Uh, I think so.” You take a moment to appraise the hoodie. “Yeah, it’s his. It’s from one of his basketball camps from when we were younger, I think.”

He purses his lips but gratefully takes the mug with swaying hands. After taking a large sip, he hums and lets his head loll back with a smile.

“This is Mrs. Li’s blend.”

“Yeah.”

It doesn’t seem right to tell him that you’ve been back there a couple times now and have started trying to get into tea. You take the time to put some distance between him and you. You walk to your bed and fluff a pillow that doesn’t need fluffing. The thing is that Jaehyun being in your room feels...weird. He looks all too content and comfortable in the space. That’s not to say he doesn’t suit the environment well. Somehow he looks like he belongs in your room with his soaked tank top and damp hair. You fluff the pillow harder.

“You must be tired,” he says after a long silence. He’s finished his tea but his eyes are still glassy.

“What?”

“Donghyuck told me ‘bout all your projects. Told me you had to draw him for one.”

“Oh, yeah I did. People actually loved that piece the most. But it took me the shortest amount of time.”

“Next time,” he begins ambling across the room, coming to place the empty mug on your bedside table. “Next time, you can ask me to model. If you want.”

“I mean, I only asked Hyuck since he was watching TV and he was there. Plus I know his face so well that it doesn’t even matter if he talks while I paint. The company is kind of nice.”

“Well, you can do it with me next.”

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. He doesn’t realize how strange what he’s saying is. And yet, your face still heats up. The sound of his teeth chattering lightly again reminds you how he got to be in your room in the first place. Jaehyun hugs himself as he continues to check out your room with a small smile on his face. He looks content.

“Do you want to get in,” you offer before your brain can process what your mouth has just done. His eyes go wide.

“Excuse me?”

“Not—I mean, you just...look really cold and tired. Plus I heard you guys lost the game tonight, so the coach had you hauling ass after.” At the sight of his mildly amused face, tongue nudged between his teeth you add, “I don’t mean you should stay the night. It could just be for a bit and then you could, like, get up and call a cab home. But I get it if you’d rather not. Actually, I can just go see if Hyuck is around. I think he brought his—”

“No, no, stay,” he replies quickly to keep you from jumping out of bed. “I could use the rest.”

He turns around to shrug off the wet tank and pull on the hoodie, mumbling something about ‘not wanting to get your sheets wet’. Internally you wonder if you’re being laughed at by the gods while staring politely at nothing in the other corner of the room. You scoot over from your position in the middle of the bed to the side opposite him. He rewards your kindness with a flash of a bright smile before moving to pull back the covers.

His face lands directly in one of your pillows and you panic when you realize your sheets aren’t fresh out the washer. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind and lets out a sigh before shivering a little. With the hood over his hair, you can barely make out his eyes but you can tell they’re trained on you.

“You sure this is okay,” he whispers.

“Yeah.”

The bed shifts minutely as he turns a little to get more comfortable. It feels hot in the bed all of the sudden. Despite the fact that you have on weather appropriate pajamas and your most lightweight Spring bedding on. Despite the fact that you’re not laying close enough to him to be able to feel any body heat. Maybe it’s warmer outside than you thought. That’s probably it.

---

When you wake up several hours later, it’s to the sound of clanking in your living room. The other side of the bed is empty and you try not to read into it. It wasn’t supposed to be a full night over, after all. You swing your feet over the edge of the bed only to squeal when your foot hits something cold in the little rug you keep there.

“What is it!” Donghyuck crashes into the room while holding the trash bag he was collecting loose beer cans with. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—oh.”

You look down at the rug and see something shiny and metallic as opposed to something wet and slimy. With your index finger and thumb, you pick up a medium length golden chain. It shines even in the low lighting of your bedroom. You both squint at the jewelry, trying to place it.

Donghyuck’s eye grow wide and he looks around the room in disgust suddenly.

“Was he in here?”

“Uh, yeah,” you grumble as you rub your eyes.

“What for?”

When Donghyuck raises an inquisitive eyebrow, your mouth drops open.

“We just slept—”

“You slept together?”

“Hyuck, not like that! What’s your problem?”

“Still, why is he sleeping in here? You never have guys sleep in here.”

“You sleep in here all the time,” you point a finger at him.

“True,” he cedes immediately, pointing a finger back. “Well, you better return that. I think it’s his lucky charm or something.”

“Can’t you do it?” He laughs before returning to the living room.

“He didn’t leave it in my bed.”

“I–fine. I don’t need your help anyway.”

At that, he snorts.

“You do, but I’ll let you keep thinking that you don’t, because I’m a good friend.”

“You’re annoying, that’s what you are.”

You pull on a sweater before coming out of your room with your phone in hand. There’s a companionable silence that falls over you two as you attempt to draft a text to Jaehyun about his chain while Donghyuck picks up the remaining trash from the party.

“How’d everything go,” you ask once the message is sent.

“It was fine. Jae was so gone that we thought he had flushed himself down the toilet for a while. But I guess that’s not what happened.”

Your face heats up at the teasing tone he uses.

“Hyuck, I have something to tell you.”

“God, what? Are you pregnant?”

“No! What the hell? Are you?” You try to swipe at his butt from the back of the couch.

“No! But...can you just say what you’re gonna say? You’re making me nervous.”

He even goes so far as to put the trash down and come around to sit with you on the sofa. You take a deep breath.

“I have a crush on Jaehyun. I just thought you should know.”

He stares at you, not blinking for a few seconds. He opens his mouth and then shakes his head to himself and closes it again.

“I see,” he finally says.

“It’s been going on a while, and I didn’t want to leave you in the dark.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Nope! I don’t mind being in the shadows. I do some of my best work there.”

“Do you think it could go anywhere?”

“What do you mean,” he throws another can into his bag.

“Like, do you think I have a chance with him?”

Donghyuck turns to stare at you, deadpan. “Do I think you have a chance with Jung Jaehyun? The man who slept in your bed a few hours ago?”

“Yeah.” Your face is completely open and imploring.

He sighs, “I think you might have a shot, sure.”

“Why, though?”

“I don’t know. Just a hunch.”

The next game of the season is a big one. The team coming in to play is an old school rival, so it draws a crowd that contains even the less sport-inclined students. You manage to get a ticket set away, but it’s still tough trying to find a spot to sit. It’s first come first serve with seats since the gym isn’t big enough to have labeled arena seating.

Initially you had planned to use the extra time you had before the start to return Jaehyun’s chain, but it took you so long to make it from the parking lot to the gym and then to an open seat that there wasn’t any time left. Somewhere in between, you nearly get knocked over by the heavy current of fans from both teams flooding the space. The chain, once clutched in your hand, ends up around your neck out of fear that you lose it permanently.

You end up in the nosebleeds for the rest of the time. The players look like ants and if it weren’t for the large printed numbers on their jerseys, you might not be able to tell all of them apart. You text Donghyuck your location, and you see him looking towards the back rows at the beginning of the game, but he has to stay focused. You try your hardest to focus as well. At this point, you’re just about fluent in the sport that is basketball. But tonight’s game is hard to follow despite this. Jaehyun grabs your attention instead. He plays especially rough tonight, you note. He pushes hard across the court, even gets a couple warnings for defending like he’s on offense. There’s a fair amount of goals with his name on them as well. It’s exciting and you just wish your cheers could reach him.

More annoyance comes when the game finally ends. It’s a last minute shot by one of the other players who walked on this season that tips the game in your school’s favor. The crowd is deafening, even the ending buzzer is muted by their shouts. The bleachers shake under you with the force of fans running to meet their favorite players and generally gloat in front of the other team on the court. The shaking underneath you is terrifying enough to keep you seated until things have died down. There’s still probably a minimum of hundred people gathered on the floor, but you can at least step over empty concession bags as opposed to being stepped on by the supportive members of the hockey team.

It takes forever to find a single person you know. Of course it’s Donghyuck, who is in the middle of talking with some friends from off the team.

“Hyuck,” you begin to run over. When he sees you, you give him a big smile.

“No,” he responds simply as you get closer.

You slow down and let confusion wrinkle your brow. He offers no further verbal explanation but does give you a swift head nod in another direction. You follow the gesture and find Jaehyun at the end of the path. He looks a bit lost despite being with Doyoung and Johnny.

The fact that the others are there makes you freeze up at first, but the feeling of the chain laying delicately on your clavicle reminds you of what you need to do. Luckily, he sees you before the others do and he steps aside under the guise of getting a fresh towel. He waits for you to catch up once he’s out of their line of sight.

His voice is low, like he’s worried being too loud will make you change your mind about talking with him. But there’s an undercurrent of sincere happiness.

“There you are.”

“I was at the top row. I got here too late to sit where I normally do.”

“Ah. I thought maybe you couldn’t make it.”

“There’s no way I would be able to miss this one. Hyuck threatened to shave my head if I did.”

“That...sounds like him.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. The nerves are getting to you a bit. You’ve never confessed your feelings to anyone before, and you’re not sure if Donghyuck was right about you having a shot.

“So, what are you doing—”

“I’ve been meaning to tell—”

You both start talking at once and then immediately clam up when you interrupt each other.

He gives the floor to you. “You go first.”

“Okay.”

You reach for the back of your neck and watch as his gaze follows the movement of your hands only for his eyes to light up in recognition.

“I wondered where that thing went.”

“You left it at my place. I put it on because I was scared I’d lose it for real. Sorry.”

He reaches out casually to thumb at the chain around your neck. “Don’t be. It looks good on you.”

“It looks better on you.”

The chain slides off cool against your skin and your fingers shake as you carry the chain over to him. Wordlessly, you reach up and loop your arms around his neck to reunite the chain with its rightful owner. Sweaty palms make it difficult to redo the clasp without being able to see it. It puts you right in his personal space for an awkwardly long time.

“I’m really sweaty,” he whispers.

“Uh, that’s nice?”

He laughs and it puffs off your temple.

“I don’t want to get you dirty, but I really want to kiss you right now.” The clasp finally snaps into place

“Oh.”

The way he leans in, the way his arms come to cage around your waist, the drip of the sweat from his temple down the hinge of his jaw. All of it is slow. As if to give you the space to withdraw if you wanted. But you surge forward into him. And for once it’s not awkward. You don’t know how long you stand there necking like hormonal high schoolers in a sea of people on the gym floor at a school dance, but—just like at the school dance—someone is bursting the gossamer thin ambiance just when Jaehyun’s fingers graze the back pocket of your jeans.

“If you look to your left, boys and girls, you can see two local horndogs engaged in a seasonal ritual” He karate chops a hand down the space between your faces, cutting the kiss off abruptly and nearly bruising Jaehyun’s nose. Meanwhile Taeyong snickers loudly from behind Doyoung.

“Do you have a death wish,” you turn to him with fire in your eyes. He backs up slightly, but attempts to stand his ground.

“Do you know how hard I’ve been working to set you two up?”

“What are you talking about?”

You turn to Jaehyun, who looks just as confused. The gears turning in your heads are practically visible as you and he put 2 and 2 together slowly. The random lies, the weird errands, the sudden party. The blank stares from Donghyuck every time the two of you were in the same room but refused to talk. It all adds up.

“You owe me sweet potato fries for the rest of your life. Maybe longer, I’m not sure yet.”

Donghyuck puts his arms around you and Jaehyun, pulling you with him as he heads out of the gym and towards the exit that leads toward the cafeteria.

“I can’t believe you...puppet-mastered us,” Jaehyun’s voice is airy with disbelief.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t realize what was going on,” Taeyong snickers on the walk over. Doyoung snorts while lacing their fingers together.

“Yeah, the whole team was in on it.”

“You guys are one to talk.” Donghyuck turns back to give the two boys a humbling once over. “Don’t get me started on how hard it was to get you two losers together.”

Doyoung stops in his tracks, nearly tripping Taeyong in the process.

“What?”

#nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines

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heyitssmiller · 4 years ago

Note

Im here with another Hogwarts warmup, if you want it. SW characters belong to the lovely Hazel @lumosinlove

By late spring of Leo’s fourth year, he could confidently say that he had his shit figured out. He’d passed his exams with flying colors, actually doing better then he though he would but Logan had told him it was expected. Leo was “smart as shit” in his words. Finn also told him he’d known Leo would do well, though this was on a separate occasion. “I was the one who tutored you, after all.”

Leo had just scoffed and playfully shoved him, but Finn’s bragging was well justified. He’d done better than Leo had, probably the best in their year.

On top of his stellar test scores, Leo had the summer to look forward to, which seemed to be just around the corner. He and Finn also continued to study in the library, though with no more exams to study for, it was more so they could keep hanging out.

Yes, spring was going exceptionally well. The warmer weather was making Leo smile brighter, and feel like he was on top of his game. Until he heard the news.

Everyone in Hogwarts heard the story. Snape was in the hospital wing, apparently in bad shape. The gossip was James Potter had even been the one to save his life.

The rumors flew fast and reached stellar heights of absolute ridiculousness.

Snape had a dark spell backfire on him and Potter performed the counter curse.

I heard that a centaur attacked him.

Someone confunded Severus and convinced him to get too close to the whomping willow.

It was revenge for Snape calling Lily a mudblood.

Leo heard it all, and after piecing the puzzles together, it wasn’t hard for him to eventually figure out the real story. The one Dumbledore and McGonagall were working hard to keep under wraps.

He went to the hospital wing immediately, and upon seeing Remus in one of the beds, his suspicions were confirmed true. It was no dark curse, or a centaur, or even the whomping willow at fault. But Leo truly believed Remus wasn’t the one to blame, either.

Snape was still alive, wasn’t he?

Besides that, Leo knew that Lupin was a genuinely good person. He was an excellent prefect, patient with the first years and kind to anyone he crossed paths with. Leo knew how nice Remus could be from personal experience.

That day when Leo had figured out his feelings for one of his bestfriends, a Slytherin boy of all people, and panicked. Leo had found himself pacing the edge of the Black lake, kicking rocks into the water as hard as he possibly could and crying because he didn’t want to feel that way. Not because he was ashamed, but because he was worried the feelings would get stronger and he’d lose Logan.

Remus found him, and by that time, the sun was setting and Leo had missed dinner.

It’s okay. I’m the same way, too Remus said to him. But Leo already knew that, because he had spent so much time observing people, assuring himself he wasn’t the only one at Hogwarts who was gay. Leo spent so much time observing, he had also figured out another secret of Remus Lupin’s.

And that’s why he was here, taking in the smell of antiseptic.

The nightstand next to Remus’ hospital bed told Leo that James and Peter had been there recently, leaving gifts of chocolate and encouraging, friendly notes that all with We love you, Moony.

Leo rolled his eyes. It’s a marvel that nobody else has figured it out, with a nickname like Moony.

Strangely, there was nothing from Sirius. But Leo didn’t have time to ponder over that, because he heard Remus start to wake up.

The fifth year blinked, quietly groaning as he tried to sit up. Leo quickly moved to help him, but his hands were batted away.

“I’m fine.” Remus said, fixing the pillows behind him so he could lean against them in an upright position. Then, his eyes fixed on Leo.

Remus stared like a deer in headlights, and Leo was suddenly realizing that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here. He didn’t want to worry Remus, and no one else was supposed to know he was in the hospital wing.

“Uh... Hi.” He said, offering a shy wave. Remus only blinked at him.

Leo shifted his weight from foot to foot, not knowing what to do now that he was actually here. He just wanted to make sure Remus was alright. He wanted to make sure he had some company when the Marauders were busy finishing the last of their O.W.L.s.

“Knut.” Remus finally greeted, voice coming out rough. He cleared his throat a few times, and took a sip of the water on his nightstand then tried again. “What are you doing here?”

Honestly? Leo didn’t know how to answer that question. When he figured out what had happened - what actually happened - he was so concerned with making sure Remus was alright that he hadn’t stopped to think that Remus didn’t know that Leo knew. And he didn’t want Remus to know, because he didn’t want him to worry.

But Remus was looking at him in such a terrified way, that Leo could only think of one way to fix it.

“I’m here to check on you. I... no one knows the real story. But I figured it out. And I wanted to make sure you were okay?”

The answer didn’t have the effect Leo was going for. Instead, Remus started breathing faster, and both of his hands were on Leo’s chest, pushing him away.

“Yo- you shouldn’t be here. I’m just sick, I didn’t make a potion right.”

Leo tried pushing him back onto the bed, scared that Remus was about to fall off at any minute but he was equally matched in stubbornness.

“You can’t be here, I’m super contagious. I don’t want anyone knowing that I failed potions-”

“Lupin.”

“Please, just go, it’s so embarrassing-”

“Remus!”

Remus stopped, and so did Leo. “It’s okay. I know. It’s okay.”

The words didn’t stop Remus from shaking, but he allowed himself to settle back into the pillows. Leo was glad to see that his breathing was returning to normal, but Remus still didn’t look at him. He stared at the nightstand, instead.

“I didn’t hurt him.” Remus whispered, refusing to meet eye contact.

“Oh my- no. That’s not why I’m here. I know you didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Then why are you here?” Remus snapped, finally meeting his gaze with hard eyes. Leo didn’t flinch. He was used to Logan’s temper, and this had nothing on the fits Lo would go through.

“I’m here as your friend. You were there for me once, remember? Now I’m here for you.”

And eventually, Remus softened. His shoulders released their tension and he sunk back into the bed, finally relaxed.

Leo took that as his cue to sit in the empty visitor’s chair and prop his feet on the metal bed frame. He wanted to ask, wanted to know why Snape was at the shack, or how he had even known in the first place, but Remus didn’t need that right now. Just the silence and companionship seemed enough.

He didn’t need to ask are you okay, either because he was very obviously not.

Instead, he grabbed the pack of playing cards out of the drawer of the nightstand and started shuffling them for a round of go fish. And Remus smiled, for the first time that day.

AAAAAAAAAH 😍😍😍I LOVE IT SO MUCH

@lumosinlove

#lumosinlove #hogwarts anon

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adenei · 4 years ago

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Soccer Mom

The Romione Discord strikes again! Please enjoy this lovely fic as a result!

***************

It was a perfect autumn day for a soccer game. It always baffled Ron that Hermione thoroughly enjoyed watching the kids play muggle sports, when she always seemed to complain about quidditch at school. But she was always the first one to sign them up when it came time for the season.

Rose loved everything about the sport, and was always begging to get to practice early so she could be out on the field longer. Hugo, well, that was a different story. He truly was his mother’s son. He’d much rather be inside reading a book, or playing with those lego sets Grandma and Grandpa Granger always got for him. Yet, even knowing how similar she was to her son, Hermione still signed him up and made him play. Maybe she hoped he’d grow to like it as he played more. Or maybe...no that couldn’t be it, Ron thought. She wouldn’t force Hugo into this stuff so he’s less like her...would she?

Ron had clearly gotten lost in thought during Hugo’s U8 match, but was brought back by Hermione berating the coach. “Why is he sitting on the bench! All the other kids get to play!”

“Hermione,” Ron muttered, trying to talk her down. “Every kid takes turns on the bench. They can’t play the whole game!”

“Yes, but Hugo’s been out for the entire half!” Hermione complained.

“It’s fine, Mum, really, I don’t mind!” Hugo called as he happily swung his legs as he watched his teammates play.

Hermione huffed and continued to grumble under her breath. Ron decided against telling her the real reason Hugo was probably sitting out. He’d spent a good amount of time during the first half studying the clump of wildflowers on the far side of the field instead of paying attention on defense. Not that they really needed him, since his team had kept the ball on the other side of the field for most of the half. But it wasn’t exactly something to be criticizing the coach for. Ron would have done the same thing. Maybe that’s why Hermione didn’t push the issue.

Things continued to go smoothly as Hugo’s game ended and Rose ran off to join her own team for warmups. Hugo grabbed his bag and sat behind his parents on the bleachers, and Ron smiled when he took a book out of his gym bag and began reading. He was reminded of all the times he’d look over at Hermione in the stands at Hogwarts, reading instead of watching.

Rose was the star forward for her team, and as always, had taken the field by storm at the beginning of the game. Ron beamed with pride as he watched her play. She didn’t have the confidence issues that always seemed to plague him on the Quidditch pitch. Thank goodness for that.

Though, perhaps he spoke a bit too soon, as he watched his daughter completely bulldoze a defender on her way to the goal. He heard the whistle sound and saw a yellow card issued to Rose. Well, alright then, I suppose she deserved that. She did blatantly shove that girl down to the ground. This wasn’t rugmy...or whatever that other muggle sport was called. It looked like they were about to resume play when Hermione began shouting. Oh, here we go…

“A yellow card? You can’t be serious! Where was the foul! She had the ball. So that defender got in her way! You’re just choosing sides! You’re favoring the other team. This is ridiculous!” Hermione was shouting as she placed her cell phone in her pocket.

Did she really just look up the purpose of a yellow card? “Hermione, stop, Rose just ran over that defender. She should have dribbled the ball around her, but she didn’t. It’s justified.”

“So? I’ve seen you play in games, and it’s a lot rougher than this!” Hermione turned and looked like she was about to harass the ref again, when Ron grabbed her arm.

“Hermione, they’re ten! Let it go, or you’re going to risk getting thrown out of the game.”

Hermione looked incredulously at her husband. “Throw me out? I’d like to see them try!”

At this point, Rose’s coach turned around. “Mrs. Weasley, please listen to your husband. The ref does have the right to kick you out of the stands,” he said warily.

“Mom! Stop!” Rose said as she was looking equal parts embarrassed and angry from the field. Hermione sat down in a huff and the game started again.

The rest of the game continued and was, for the most part, uneventful. There was one instance when a handball was called on the other team. Hermione started muttering under her breath about how the ball was kicked into the girl’s hand and it wasn’t her fault, until Ron reminded her that it was called on the opposing team.

Hermione quickly recovered with, “Oh! Well, I guess they could use the helpful call, we are winning with a fair lead, aren’t we?” Ron thought he saw Hugo look up and roll his little eyes at his mum’s unnecessary enthusiasm.

Finally, the game ended with no more outbursts from his wife. Rose ran over to them and Hermione hugged both her parents as they congratulated her on the win. As Ron hugged his daughter, she said, “Will Mum ever stop? Or should I just stop asking her to sit quietly and cheer only when it’s appropriate?”

Ron couldn’t help but chuckle. “Rose, be nice. Your mother loves watching you play, even if she’s a bit...intense sometimes. You’ll miss this when you’re off at school, and we won’t be able to come and watch. There’s only a few more games in the season.”

“I know, it’s just embarrassing sometimes,” Rose lamented.

“Good, that means we’re doing our job,” Ron smiled at his daughter.

“Rose! Hey, Rose!” One of her teammate’s was calling her. “We’re going for ice cream! Can you come?”

Rose looked at her parents. “Can we go? Please?”

“I don’t know…” Hermione said hesitantly. “We haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

Ron laughed at the familiar banter. He knew what came next.

“Please, Mum? I promise it won’t spoil my appetite! The team always celebrates a win. Hugo wants ice cream too, right Huey?”

“Ice cream?” Hugo said as he looked up from his book. “Oooh, please Mum?!” Both kids had inherited Ron’s sweet tooth.

“Alright, alright, but only a small portion. And I’ll expect you to eat your entire dinner later on,” Hermione said sternly.

“Yes, Mum!” both kids said as they packed up their things and headed for the car.

Ron smiled as he watched them take off ahead of him, and he put his arm around his wife. Just another day in paradise.

#romione domestic fluff #ROMIONE #rose granger weasley #hugo granger weasley

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sweet-curried-powder · 4 years ago

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i said i was going to do it, so i did it. i wrote something for sk8. specifically kyagawa. or haseyan. whatever their ship is.

this is shorter than i’d like it to be, really, but it’s my first time writing fic for a fandom outside of undertale/ibvs, so this is sort of a warmup, kinda, to see how i want to write these boys cause my god, i love these boys.

i don’t think there’s any warnings for this, really? there are spoilers for the sk8 in here, so yea. a heads up.

the fic’s under the cut!

@jitters-box i’m tagging you cause i told you i was writing sk8 fic and i know you want this shit

When they first announced that their class was getting a new transfer student, Reki didn’t really pay too much attention. In fact, he wasn’t really even paying attention that day, he was busy doodling an idea for a new skateboard design in his sketchbook. He got lectured by his teacher that day for not paying attention not too long after, even though nothing was actually being taught.

But it didn’t matter to Reki, at least not then. He soon forgot about the exchange student who was supposed to come soon. At least, for a little while.

Then came the race against him and SHADOW. He didn’t just end up losing, he ended up slamming right into a wall at full force. Reiki’s arm was hurt in the process, but luckily it wasn’t broken, but it did need to be bandaged. Too bad there wasn’t a bandage for the lithe boy’s pride.

The next day, the exchange student arrived.

His name was Langa Hasegawa.

He was from Canada, but spoke Japanese.

He had blue, snow like hair, which fell past his ears.

His eyes were blue too.

And he was pretty. Really, really pretty. Reki even heard a few of the female students talking about how cute Langa was. He had to be honest, Langa was fairly attractive, but he seemed so...spacey. Like he was zoning out. So he didn’t really pay much mind.

But later, after school, Reki was just messing around with his skateboard in front of his work, when he accidentally dropped the board and it went zooming away.

Reki was cursing under his breath as he ran after his board, which was quickly gaining speed. The road was sort of slanted downwards, which wasn’t good for Reki at this moment in time. It seemed like nothing was going right for him this week.

At least, until he spotted Langa picking up his skateboard, staring at it with some sort of fascination in his eyes.

Little did either of them know, was that very first interaction was the beginning. The beginning of a beautiful friendship that soon rooted and took bloom.

A lot of times when they spent time with each other, from the very beginning, skating was a main interest shared between the two of them. They talked about skating tricks, famous skateboarders, and potential board designs. They would practice tricks after school, sometimes in places where they weren’t allowed to skate, which led into occasionally being chased by police officers. Langa would spend the night at Reki’s or vice versa, and they’d be up late watching skating videos or skating movies, huddled up under a blanket.

Reki cared deeply for his friend. He trusted Langa with all his life, and he believed in him deeply. And how could he not? His Canadian friend had been there during the beef between him and Adam, saved him from the weird monsters that had chased them down when they visited the beach…

He didn’t even realize that his feelings for Langa had changed...at least, not until recently.

It was a few weeks after their beach trip. Reki’s injuries had fully healed, but even despite Cherry and Miya’s warnings to be careful, he attempted to practice the jump that Joe had done back at the beach. He didn’t do so well, and he crashed onto the ground hard. He wasn’t seriously hurt, luckily, but he was scraped up and mildly bruised. It was nothing for Reki, he’d gotten banged up like this before, but Langa panicked and ran over to help him up, dragging him to Cherry’s calligraphy shop, where he knew there was a first aid kit.

“Langa, I’m fine, really,” Reki tried to reassure his friend, who was splashing some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. “It’s only a few scrapes, I’ve had worse-” Reki flinched, feeling the sting of the rubbing alcohol on his open wound.

“Sorry,” Langa apologized. “But you should have been more careful. Your injuries just fully healed, you need to take it slow.” He tended to his friend’s wounds gently, as if he were handling something frail and delicate. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

Then Reki felt something. Something that he couldn’t describe, but part of him knew what it was. Love.

And it was for his friend.

...fuck.

#sugar's writing #sk8 the infinity #sk8 spoilers #langa hasegawa #reki kyan #cherry blossom #joe #miya chinen #ad*m #well everyone except hot and cold boys are mentioned but-#kyagawa #haseyan

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blu-joons · 5 years ago

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Exposure. Jeon Jungkook

Part Two

OVERVIEW: Being the little secret of a member of the world’s biggest boy band was never going to be easy. WIth all the hiding around and tiptoeing, it only seemed to be a matter of time until you got caught out, but when you are, how will that affect your relationship with the man who had given you it all?

PART: i ii

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.4k words

——————————

“The boys really are so excited to see you, they’ve been pestering me to bring you to the studio since we got back,” the blue-eyed blue told you as he drove down the road. The small crack in the window blew his fringe back in the breeze bringing a smile to your face, the roads were quite, allowing your ears to be filled the mellow tunes of one of his new playlists he’d created whilst he’d been on tour. “They don’t know you’re coming, so hopefully it will be a nice surprise for them.”

“I’d be a bit disappointed if they weren’t happy to see me,” you chuckled, pointing out to the road, turning his eyes away from yours, earning a cheeky giggle from him.

The studio wasn’t too far away, conversation was minimal, instead the two of you chose to enjoy the sounds of the music and tune in to the outside world through the gaps in the windows. He parked in his usual spot, looking around at all the cars that were outside. “Looks like we’re just waiting on Jimin.”

“There’s a surprise,” you chimed, stepping out of the car, grabbing your handbag from the backseat.

“I’m sure Namjoon will give him a talking to,” he informed you, slipping his hand into yours as you walked into the building. The three security guards who stood at the foot of the building offered you both a warming smile as you walked across, his hand moved to the small of your back guiding you into the building, following closely behind you, shutting the entrance door.

The noise of all the boys quickly hit you, it was as if they hadn’t spent the past few months on tour, everything you knew fell back into palace. Takeaway boxes could be found trailed along the corridor, jumpers and hoodies had been discarded wherever they pleased, not to mention the several mugs of coffee that had been forgotten about during different moments.

“It’s a good job no one important is coming to visit,” you teased, pointing out all the bits of rubbish your eyes instantly fell on. He sighed, shrugging innocently to it all, if you knew he was responsible for most of it, you’d never let him live it down.

“I think the boys would argue you that you are very important, as would I,” he responded, kissing the side of your face.

Your eyes rolled at his cheeky grin, brushing your hand along the side of his face, before pulling him down so he was level with you. “I know you’re responsible for this,” you assured him, shaking your head at him.

He pouted down at you, leading you down the corridor across to the rehearsal room where the five boys, who’d managed to arrive on time were sat. Each of them was on the floor, everyone had a coffee in front of them, except for Taehyung who wisely decided just to drink from his water bottle. You pushed the door open, watching as they all looked around, smiling wide when they saw the two of you walk in together.

“Y/N!”

You thought Jungkook was exaggerating when he told you the boys would be excited to see you, but when arms quickly flew around your frame pulling you into a tight hug, you knew how serious he truly was. “Guys, I need to breathe, please.”

Jungkook’s hand came across, grabbing their shoulders, one by one pulling them away from you, smirking as you adjusted your outfit and hair from the mess they’d caused. All of them possessed sheepish grins when you turned to face them.

“It’s so nice to see you, we all missed you whilst we were on tour,” Hobi was the first to speak, clapping his hands together in excitement, skipping around you.

Namjoon chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand, “what he means to say is that we missed having you look after us, you’re the rightful mother of BTS after all.

“I’m sure you all managed just fine without me,” you smiled, giggling when they all shook their heads. Despite being in a relationship with their maknae, you were just like a mum to the rest of them. You cooked them meals, kept the place tidy, hence the state it was in without you around, and made sure they were well looked after. “Except, who do I need to have a word with about the current mess in that hallway?”

Fingers were pointed everywhere along with shrieks of protests claiming innocence towards you, no one wanted to admit the fault and face your wrath of fury. You smirked at them all, they all argued you had Jungkook whipped, but you definitely had all of them wrapped around your finger most days.

You sat down with them all, being passed a water bottle from Jungkook off the side, “we’ve got loads of things to show you from our travels, if you’re interested?”

You nodded, opting to sit yourself in between his legs, resting back against his hard chest, “we can’t do anything yet, Jimin isn’t here,” you reminded them, hearing them all sigh.

“I doubt he’ll be here for some time, since tour, he’s been late every day,” Namjoon told you, grabbing a couple of boxes from one of the cupboards on the left wall of the studio.

Each of them began to take out items that were important to them, Namjoon had bought small ornaments from every place they visited to place on his shelf, Hobi had several garments from markets and stores they’d visited on their days off, whilst Taehyung had lots of hats, flipping between several of them to show you precisely how they looked. Whilst Taehyung gave you a catwalk, Jin was happy to show you all the games he’d found from different places that he was excited to try, followed by Yoongi who had exhausted most shops for equipment to place in his studio, as he argued, small gifts were just meaningless in years to come.

Finally, you looked to Jungkook who pulled out a box filled with lots of random pieces, he had a flag from America, a snow globe from France, a magnet from Australia, as well as several statues and glass ornaments that he’d found along the way.

“Everywhere we went, I picked up something that reminded me of you,” he told you, passing you a glass angel ornament he’d purchased on the New Zealand leg of the tour.

“This is beautiful Kook; what do you think you’ll do with it?”

He took it from you with a shaking hand, wrapping it back up, placing it in the box. Your eyes furrowed in confusion, watching him do the same with everything that he’d bought. “I’m going to wrap them back up and keep them safe, just like how I’ll always keep you safe,” he smiled, leaning across to press a kiss to your cheek, “they’re far too important to risk breaking them, I want to keep them perfect.”

Around the room humorous gags came from the rest of the boys at Jungkook’s sweet comments. He looked around, but you pulled him back so that he was looking at you, “they’re just jealous.”

The box was repacked and placed safely away by Yoongi, just as the door opened, and an exhausted Jimin came flying through the door. His cheeks made it seem like he’d ran a marathon, his hair was a mess, but his smile still remained, just like it always did, widening only when he saw you sat with Jungkook’s arms firmly around you.

“What time do you call this? I’ve been sat around here for hours waiting for you to arrive,” you teased, standing up so that you could greet him with a proper hug.

He squeezed you tightly, apologising for the state he was in, glancing into the mirror of the studio, adjusting the blonde strands of hair so that they suited his face perfectly. He dropped his bag, absentmindedly listening to the scolding from Namjoon that Jungkook had so wisely predicted when the two of you were still in the car park.

With all the boys at last in the studio, they could begin to start their rehearsals. It quickly surprised you how after the conclusion of one tour their minds were so focussed on what was to come next. You sat down on one of the chairs that was around the circumference of the room whilst Hobi led them all in a warmup.

“Y/N, do you reckon you could be in charge of music?” He asked, looking back at you in the reflection of the mirror. You perked up, looking across at him, nodding your head. “If you’ve got your phone with you, anything will do.”

You reached into the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out your phone, opening up your music app. “I’ve got the perfect song for you all.”

They stood in anticipation and waited, only their excitement turned to dismay when they recognised the opening melody of Euphoria playing into the room.

Jungkook quickly ran over, pressing a long kiss to the top of your head, “you’re so good at this,” he smiled proudly, poking his tongue out at all the boys.

Yoongi ran over, snatching your phone to press the pause button on the track, much to the relief of all the other members. “We expected better than that from you, I can’t believe you’d make us listen to that rubbish.”

“I might be a little bias, but he is my boyfriend.”

None of them seemed to care as they abruptly stripped you of your audio duties, passing the baton onto Namjoon. You pouted as Jungkook walked away, shaking his head shamefully at them all for being so cruel to you.

“You’re supposed to all be happy to see you may I remind you,” you shouted out, folding your arms across your chest. It mattered to none of them as Namjoon played a new song, one that everyone liked, well, except for you of course.

Their rehearsal went by reasonably fast; they were still very much in the early stages of it all, squabbling about what moves to place when in their routines, and which song they would consider singing at which point of the show. Whilst they argued amongst themselves, you sat back with a wide smile on your face, it was these small interactions that you missed the most when they were all on tour. Neither of them had any idea they were doing it, but perhaps that was what made them so cohesive and popular to so many people.

In the middle of their routine, the door opened once more, all of them paid no attention, except for you, smiling weakly when Bang PD walked in, huffing when he saw you sat on the chair, scrolling through your phone.

He walked in the opposite direction to where you sat, leaning on the back of the wall until the boys finished the song, breaking off for a drink.

“We weren’t expecting to see you today,” Jin spoke when he realised who else was stood in the door. In his hand he had a few pieces of paper, gripping onto them tightly until his fingers were white.

In your gut you could feel something wasn’t right, he’d never been completely immersed in your relationship like everyone else had been, but that never stopped him at least greeting you whenever you were around. Jungkook walked over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder as the boys all sat around you, drinking heavily from their water bottles.

Your eyes stared up at Jungkook who looked across at you with a weak smile brushing his hands through your hair, “why are you looking so nervous?”

“I don’t know, something just doesn’t feel great about all of this, I- “

You were interrupted by Bang PD clearing his throat, making everyone look across at him, his eyes were firmly exchanging stares at both you and Jungkook. All of the boys could tell straight away too that something was going on to do with the two of you, only no one had a clue what it all was about.

“Tell me Jungkook, when you came home from tour, where did you go?” He asked firmly.

Jungkook looked down at you, pointing towards you, “I went to see Y/N, like I always do when we come home from somewhere. Don’t worry, I was really careful and aware of my surroundings, I’ve become quite the master of sneaking around Y/N’s estate.”

A sinister chuckle escaped from his manager, leaving the two of you puzzled. He knew exactly how to get to your home, he’d always park as close as he could, wear dark clothes so that he didn’t stand out as much, and keep a hat on his head, and sunglasses on the bridge of his nose until their was a roof over his head.

He walked over to the two of you, handing you the paper he’d been holding, “if the two of you are so confident of being able to make all of this work, then how about you talk me through this.”

You turned over the printout that he gave you, studying it closely, to begin with you recognised his car, and then a few features of your street, and then focussed on the two people in the photo. One you were able to work out was you, leaving the other figure to be Jungkook by process of elimination.

Then your eyes fell on what was happening between you both, you remembered the evening clear as day, Jungkook told you to come down and say goodbye to him at the car, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did so.

“I-I don’t understand, we were careful,” he stuttered, looking across at everyone.

The disappointed look on everyone’s face was heart-breaking, all of them had been so trusting of the two of you to make things work, you had done for such a long time, but one lapse of judgement had ruined it all.

“I’ve now got several media outlets demanding to know what’s going on, they want to know why the nation’s sweetheart has been photographed kissing a random girl in the middle of a street.”

“I can fix this, I promise,” he tried to assure everyone, but they all quickly looked away.

“The two of you need to fix this now, you’ve been exposed, so tell me, how do you plan on fixing this?”

---

Masterlist

#bts #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook #bts scenario #bts reaction #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook one shot #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #kpop #kpop imagine

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gregorygerwitz · 4 years ago

Note

11 + trevordeke for the dialogue prompts :P

hi, I know you sent this back in October and my plans for this have changed wildly over the last week, thank you for being patient and not questioning my chaotic process. this kind of takes place in the same universe as my Piper & Davis prompt fill from the other day, just way later.

11. That’s not a real apology.

The bunks in the Lighthouse weren’t completely soundproof and Deke had always known that, but that didn’t seem to matter much when he was only going to be there for a few more hours. Between Izel, her Shrikes, the Chronicom attack, time travel, and getting his life back on track, he didn’t think he’d have much time to visit on the rare occasion when his boyfriend was actually assigned to a base. After spending a week there, surrounded by their friends, with plenty of new songs to do vocal warmups with, he could care less if anyone heard him on his way back to his usual reality of technology and numbers.

“Hello, Mr. Perfectly Fine! How’s your heart after breaking mine? Mr. Always At The Right Place At The Right Time, baby!”

A knock on the wall was the first signal he got that the door was open, that he wasn’t alone in his Taylor Swift jam party anymore, and he’d probably be embarrassed if the person he saw in the doorway wasn’t the person who had gotten him into the music in the first place. “Are you having fun?” For his part, Trevor looked very amused, if the twinkle in his eye was anything to go by. “I didn’t realize it was a Mr. Perfectly Fine kind of day. Is it because we’re both leaving and I’m not having a Taylor breakdown?”

“This is not a Taylor breakdown,” he corrected quickly, shaking his head while he crossed the room to where his phone was plugged in so that he could turn off the song. “I’m just turning on something to listen to while I finish packing. But, while we’re on the topic of leaving, I am still upset that you’re going on a mission on the other side of the world instead of coming back to LA for the weekend like you were supposed to.”

With a sigh, his boyfriend stepped further into the room and let the door swing closed behind him. Without the music filling the space, it almost felt too big. Their relationship was fine, good even, but the continued time spent apart wasn’t exactly pleasant. For either of them. “It’s not really on the other side of the world. It’s in Denver, and it’s a recruitment gig, and I should still be able to make it in time for lunch on Sunday. I’m only missing... most of our plans.”

Deke frowned a bit at the words, shaking his head. “That’s not a real apology. Is that what you were going for? An apology? Because you’ve done better, and this is almost insulting. Are our weekend plans not worth a real apology? You seem to be handling all of these changes really.... well...”

“Perfectly fine?”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and took a deep breath. “I was trying to avoid being so on the nose about it, but... kind of.”

Leaning over, Trevor pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Well, if you want to know a secret, I am... not fine. I’m waiting for Mack to review my request for a transfer? Because this whole opposite sides of the country thing really isn’t as fun or easy as I’d tried to convince myself it would be. We’re trying to set up a base in Los Angeles, which would be perfect, if that was actually happening right now, but the closest base to you is still two states away, in Seattle, so it’s not ideal, but-”

“But you’d be a lot closer than New York. And we’d be in the same timezone. And half of my tech conferences for the rest of the year are in Portland and Seattle, anyway, so if missions don’t completely conflict with those weekends-”

“We can still do dinner! Exactly.”

Deke bit his lip to try to suppress a smile, shaking his head again. “Okay, it’s very sweet that you put in for a transfer, but we’re going to work on communication, next? I’m going to need you to start telling me things before the alien invasion or the Taylor breakdown, next time.”

“So it was a Taylor breakdown?”

“Shut up.”

[ sentence prompts by kayti ]

#answered #aosficnet2 #deke shaw #trevor kahn #trevordeke #otp; code yellow #aos #agents of shield #marvel #mcu #alex writes things #kayti tag #kaytikazoo

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visionsofus · 4 years ago

Note

I suggest the song "Where the Shadow Ends" by Banners for your mixtape fic. It's beautiful and melancholic, but also hopeful. It's given me a lot of inspiration for WandaVision fics lately.

Ahh thank you so much for this song!! I totally get what you mean with it being kinda sombre but also hopeful! It’s captured so perfectly in the lyrics too. Sorry it took me a while to get around to this - but better late than never ✨

Track #12: Where The Shadow Ends by BANNERS

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your song/prompt request |

synopsis: Wanda falls ill at the compound and Vision panics. Surprisingly, her illness gives them an opportunity to talk about their feelings. Wanda comes to terms with putting faith in her feelings and in Vision.

All things considered; Wanda probably shouldn’t have gone to the gym when she did. But Steve had offered to help her with some of the new equipment the compound had ordered in and Wanda knew she pushed herself harder when faced with his superhuman training schedule.

She didn’t feel too bad at the beginning of the work out, going through the motions of warming up. She worked out most days because if she didn’t her body suffered after missions. So, she persisted even when she was tired and her muscles were sore, and apparently, even when it was pouring with rain. She’d quickly regretted her decision to go on a run despite the threatening grey sky. By the time the rain had started Wanda was too far into her run to turn back and had stubbornly refused to call anyone at the compound to come pick her up, instead walking all the way back as her wet shoes started to rub blisters into her heels. Thanks to an hour in sopping wet clothes, battling a harsh wind all the way home she’d woken up with a temperature the past two mornings.

But when she’d checked her temperature a few hours ago it seemed the fever had finally broken, and she was so restless that she didn’t hesitate to accept Steve’s invitation. A mistake she was going to pay for.

The warmup had her feeling a little woozy and lightheaded but not terrible. Things quickly went downhill as she started her usual activities. Just as she picked the dumbbells up to start on her triceps a sudden wave of dizziness hit her full force. Wanda vaguely remembered Steve calling her name as the dumbbells hit the floor with two resounding thuds and she promptly passed out.

Vision was stuck in a research spiral when he distantly heard the Compound AI say his name.

“Currently fetching recent message from Steve Rogers,” the robotic voice said from the speaker in the ceiling and Vision tilted his head as he listened. “Wanda has passed out in the gym, please prepare first aid.”

Vision didn’t give the AI the chance to repeat itself, launching himself out of his seat and phasing through the wall. He was used to quick thinking, easily able to make split second decisions based on a variety of possibilities, but this was something different. He didn’t thinkhe just moved. Within seconds he was phasing through the floors of the compound arriving in the basement with such force that his feet split the tiled floor on impact.

“What happened?” Vision asked with such fervour that he might have reprimanded himself for snapping, were he not so taken aback by the sight of Wanda’s limp body in the Captain’s arms.

“We were ten minutes into our workout and she just dropped to the floor,” Steve explained not hesitating to hand Wanda over to Vision’s waiting arms.

“She has a fever,” Vision said as he gathered Wanda up, holding her close so he could support her head against his chest. She was burning up, her breaths coming in short bursts that concerned him. How had her temperature gotten so high and why hadn’t any of them noticed her getting ill? Most of all, how had he let it slip his attention?

“You get her upstairs while I get a drip.”

They both started up the stairs, Vision trying not to jostle his unconscious cargo, too concerned to try phasing, even if the stairs were frustratingly slower. They parted ways at the ground floor as Steve hurried to the med bay and Vision continued to Wanda’s bedroom.

He kicked her door open with his foot and brought her over to the bed. As he set her down atop the navy covers, lifting her up to slip another pillow under her head, Vision wondered if it might have been better to just take her straight to the infirmary, or better yet, the hospital. But Wanda was notoriously unpredictable when it came to waking up in unfamiliar environments and had taken out a wall the last time she had passed out and woken up in the infirmary. Her own space was better, for now. Vision brushed her hair off her sweating forehead and Wanda groaned softly, shivering in her feverish state and reaching for the bed covers.

“No, no,” Vision murmured pulling Wanda’s hands away as she attempted to pull her covers up over her. She might be feeling cold, but Vision estimated her temperature was nearing 39C. While he waited for Cap to return with the drip Vision hurried to and from the kitchen and her bedroom, carrying with him a bowl of water and a cloth. Distracted, he managed to spill about a quarter of it along the hallway. He was just laying the cloth gently atop her forehead when Steve arrived in the doorway, IV equipment in hand.

“How did she get this fever?” Vision asked as Steve set down the mobile frame and hung the bag of liquid from the top. It was rare for illness to travel around the compound when so many of them were unable to fall sick, though there were far more serious conditions that could cause fever.

“She got caught in the rain on Wednesday, must have caught a cold from that,” Steve replied connecting the tubing and handing the other end to Vision as he prepared the needle. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No, she didn’t tell me,” Vision murmured, stoutly ignoring the little part of him that disliked Steve knowing something about her that he didn’t. He instead focused on finishing the IV, taking a little bit of tape from the first aid kit to secure the tubing to Wanda’s bare arm.

It wasn’t really a surprise that he hadn’t known of her rainy run. In the last week Vision had barely seen Wanda, something he found absurd because he lived just down the hall from the room they were currently in. And, well, the rest of the team often described them as being ‘attached at the hip’. Unfortunately, it seemed Wanda was excellent at making herself scarce when Vision tried to be near her these days. She was clearly trying to set a boundary, which Vision would understandably accept, if only he could understand what it was for. There had been no big change between them that he could identify, if anything they’d been getting closer, but it was as though she’d decided she didn’t like spending time with him anymore.

“I should have told her to go easy with the exercise,” Steve said, more to himself than anything, but Vision silently agreed.

Vision sighed quietly and perched himself next to the unconscious Wanda, removing the cloth from her head and submerging it in the basin once more. “She needs to look after herself,” he murmured, “or at least let someone else help her.” Vision avoided meeting Steve’s eyes following this admission, knowing that behind thissomeone else meant himself.

He wrung the cloth out and returned it to her scorching skin, delicately wiping at her cheeks and neck. Though she seemed more peaceful now and her breathing more regular, he was still on edge. Hopefully the fluids would start to do their job and her temperature would come down, but if this continued through the night, he’d call a doctor.

“And are you alright?” Steve asked, he’d retreated to the wall and was leaning against it now with his arms folded. “You were fairly shaken up down there.”

“Yes,” Vision replied quietly, not wanting to speak too loudly lest they wake her up before her body was ready. “I don’t like seeing her like this.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “And everything is alright between you two, other than this? It’s like she runs out of the room whenever she sees you these days.”

“I do not know if everything is alright, I thought things were maybe changing between us, but then she began avoiding me,” Vision sighed, tucking Wanda’s hair back from her face. As he did so she stirred slightly, her head tilting into his touch. She mumbled something incoherent.

“She’s been through a lot. A connection like the one you two seem to have,” Steve cleared his throat, “uh this intimacy I suppose, could be scary and unfamiliar. I could be wrong, of course, I’m just speaking to what I’ve seen in the last few months.”

Vision didn’t reply and continued wiping at her forehead. He often spent more time watching than talking, he spoke when it was of value and only with Wanda did he find himself speaking freely. To have Steve identify this insight about their relationship made him realise that he wasn’t the only one monitoring the interpersonal connections of his teammates.

When he didn’t reply Steve pushed himself off the wall and headed for the door. “She’ll probably be hungry when she wakes up, and you know what they say about chicken soup and the flu. I’ll go to the store.”

“Good idea,” Vision said absentmindedly.

He sat with Wanda quietly for another half hour, replacing the basin of water once and continuing to cool her forehead down. At one point he had to stand to put the blinds down as the late afternoon sun started to hit the side of the compound and streamed through her windows, casting them in a golden light. Otherwise, he was simply content to sit by her side for the first time in a week without her scurrying out of the room or pretending like he wasn’t here.

He rested his chin on his hand and gazed at Wanda’s shelves and the growing collection of items she’d collected on their travels to personalise her room. A snow globe from Atlanta, a framed picture of the team from their first big mission together, a newspaper clipping, one of the few that spoke kindly of her.

“Was I wrong,” he murmured to the air, “to think we were becoming something more?”

“Vis?” Came Wanda’s quiet voice and Vision was surprised to feel her fingers brushing his knee. He turned to her to see she was blinking blearily up at him.

“You’re ok,” Vision assured her instinctively, moving closer to lift the cloth from her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” she muttered thickly. “Can I have some water?”

“Just a moment.” Vision stood and sped out the room and to the kitchen where he hurriedly filled up a glass and was back at her side in seconds. She managed a soft smile when he reappeared, the first smile he’d seen in a week, which almost had him stumbling as he returned.

He offered his hand to steady her as she sat up a little and took the water from him. When she leant back once more, her eyes were on him darting about his face and he quickly schooled his expression to be free of the worry nagging his heart.

“Is there anything else you need?” Vision asked.

“No,” Wanda sighed sleepily, “just rest I think.”

“Would you like me to leave?” Vision nearly kicked himself for saying what he feared out loud, for providing such an easy opportunity to let her push him away again.

“No.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

In silent response Wanda turned her head away from him and bit her lip.

“You’re ill and tired, we shouldn’t have this conversation right now,” Vision said, aware of the fact that he was buying time for himself before she could give him the answer he feared.

“Please don’t be angry,” Wanda said and then so quietly, Vision thought he had imagined it, “it’s for the best.”

He’d been ready to stand and leave the room but at this took one of her hands in his, squeezing it in what he hoped she took as reassurance. “I am not angry at you, I could never be angry at you. I am worried.”

“But I’ve been avoiding you without explanation,” Wanda huffed raising her free hand to rub the sleep from her eyes.

“Well, I suppose there is that,” Vision relented, “but please know I would never be angry at you for wanting space, I admit I was hurt but if you could explain things to me, if there’s anything I’ve done that you haven’t liked—”

Wanda laughed, or it sounded like something close to a laugh, coarse and cynical more than anything. Vision stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his hands. Distantly, he registered the sound of the front door opening and closing – Steve was back just in time.

“I should go,” Vision said sadly, standing up to leave, “Steve will bring you some soup.”

“Wait no,” Wanda said sitting up and her hands flying out for him. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear.”

He could tell she wasn’t lying and slowly let her pull him back down to the bed. Wanda slowly leant against the pillows once more, this moment of exertion had evidently taken it out of her. She closed her eyes even as her hands remained tight on his arm. “The fact that you think you could ever do something I don’t like, is ironic, that’s why I laughed.”

“Ironic?” Vision asked.

Wanda sighed quietly and moved her hands from his arm to his hands, holding them tightly as though prepared to stop him from walking out again. “You want me to spell it out, huh?”

He said nothing.

“I owe you an explanation I suppose,” Wanda said and despite how peaky the sickness was making her look, her cheeks gained a little more colour as she spoke. “You’ve been too good to me, the best part of my days is when I’m with you, I pulled away to see if what I was feeling was real. I thought if I could go a little bit without you then maybe what I was feeling wasn’t that serious,” she jerked her chin to the IV stand next to her, “but my assumptions were correct.”

“So,” Vision began raising his eyes to meet her unwavering gaze, “what you’re saying is…”

“I’m falling for you and I’m scared about what that means for us,” she said and took a deep breath, “and of losing you.”

“You cannot lose me if you don’t have me,” Vision replied, “and perhaps youcan put aside your feelings. I, however, cannot.” It was true, if this week had taught him anything it was that he needed her in his life, by his side and if she let him, as something more.

Wanda’s eyes shone happily for a moment before she seemed to reign herself in. “I thought I could stop how I’m feeling,” she murmured, “I thought it was for the best, I thought I could protect myself.”

“We could protect each other.”

“Until one of us isn’t there,” Wanda said cynically, “I know this isn’t the kind of job we get to retire from.”

“Is that not more reason to pursue this, while we can?” Vision asked leaning closer.

Wanda didn’t have an answer to this, and Vision felt as though he had said enough for her to think about. He stood up, keeping a hold of her hands for as long as he could before he was forced to let go, stepping away.

“I will go and see if your soup is ready.”

Steve sat with Wanda while she ate the soup, her mind doing backflips over her conversation with Vision.

She wasn’t expecting Steve to be so forthright with his questioning, but he asked her as soon as she finished eating. “Have you fixed things between you and Vision?”

Wanda tried not to let her mouth hang open in surprise. “Not yet,” she muttered letting her spoon drop against the bowl and pushing it towards him.

“I’ve never seen him scared before today, you really gave him a fright.”

Wanda didn’t reply, letting the information sit with her even as the guilt began to fester.

“I don’t say that to make you feel bad,” Steve said, as though reading her mind, “I’m telling you so you know how much he cares about you. I mean he’s a synthezoid, Wanda, we used to worry he wouldn’t feel things and now the problem is him feeling too much? Do you not feel the same?”

Wanda stealthily avoided this question, she hadn’t even confessed the full extent of her emotions to Vis, she wasn’t about to let Steve in on her closely guarded heart just yet. No matter how much his counsel usually helped her. “I just feel this great wave of darkness waiting just beyond our horizon,” she said quietly, afraid to admit the brewing shadows she’d been feeling for months now. “Like something big is on the way, something we can’t stop.”

Steve’s brows furrowed at this, but he persisted. “Wanda, you of all people know how much your own mind can be your biggest enemy,” he said, “so is that really reason enough to ignore the light? Avoiding sad emotions doesn’t necessarily make us feel happy, so what makes you think running from happiness will stop you ever being sad?”

When she was still quiet, he pushed further. “You’ve had more darkness in your life than anyone should, but here’s an opportunity to add a bit of light to those shadows, are you really going to say no?”

She opened her mouth to answer but this time didn’t have the opportunity as Vision phased through the wall, pausing when he saw he’d caught the pair deep in conversation.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said quickly, but Cap was standing up, taking the empty soup bowl with him.

“It’s ok, I was just leaving.”

Vision pressed his hands together as he walked around her bed hesitantly, keeping his distance. “I wanted to check in on you before bed, are you feeling better?”

“Much better,” Wanda said, but she still felt a little feverish and like she might need to sleep for a week.

“I am glad to hear that,” he murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck, “if you need anything in the night I’m just down the hall.”

“Can’t you stay?” Wanda blurted out before she could lose her nerve again. “Please?”

“If that would help,” Vision replied, and Wanda swore he turned away to hide a smile. When he looked back at her she patted the bed, gesturing for him to join her.

He was careful not to jostle her as he laid down, and Wanda openly admired his grace even as he shyly avoided her gaze.

“I admit I probably wouldn’t have slept tonight; I’d just keep coming in to check your temperature,” Vision conceded as he lay his head against the pillow and Wanda turned to face him. Then, more hesitantly, “Please don’t push me away without warning again.”

“I promise,” she replied without hesitation. “Perhaps I wasn’t sick because of the rain, maybe it was more complicated, like my heart giving up a little when I stubbornly tried not to listen to it.”

Vision chuckled. “I think the rain definitely didn’t help, but your heart makes a good point.”

Wanda smiled tugging the pillow further under her head and placing a hand under her cheek. She scrunched her nose at Vision, unable to stop smiling and extended her hand in invitation. He accepted, bringing one of his own hands up and intertwining their fingers, kissing the back of her hand tenderly.

“And have you decided to listen to your heart?” He murmured, kissing her hand to punctuate the question.

“I have a very stubborn heart,” she relented, “I couldn’t ignore it even if I tried.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Vision said smiling at her and shuffling closer.

Wanda pushed back against his chest and Vision immediately halted. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’ll get sick.”

Vision laughed. “Wanda, dear, I am a synthezoid, you couldn’t pass your illness onto me even if you wanted to.”

Wanda tilted her chin up at the challenge. “Well in that case.” She pulled him close and pressed her mouth to his as she’d wanted to hundreds of times. As though in celebration, the lights flickered out and the door slammed shut, submerging them in darkness that had Wanda laughing in embarrassment at her magic’s overreaction. Now cast in shadow, the only light was the soft glow of the mind stone atop Vision’s head, and the faint gleam of his eyes in the night. She used them as guidance to kiss him again, and again, and again. Finding no reason to stop until she felt him smile against her mouth, pulling back a little so that their noses were still brushing and the breath between them was shared. She was done with running from this, not quite sure how they had ever been able to hold themselves back from each other.

#wandavision #scarletvision #Wandavision fanfiction #wanda maximoff #scarletwitch #wanda x vision #concerned vision is a sweetheart #wanda feels too much #and fears too much lol #visionsofusfics

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quickspinner · 4 years ago

Text

Beautiful Dreams - Ch 5 Reality Check

I’m sorry this chapter took so long but I assure you it was necessary. For updates on my in-progress stories, check my WIP Report tag. It will probably be a while before the next update to this story because I’m going to try to get the last few chapters closer to completion before I start posting again, so that we will only hopefully have one more significant delay and then the remaining chapters will come quickly.

I hope you enjoy this chapter in the meantime!

He couldn’t have asked for a better beginning. Even the fifty-three texts from Rose he had to answer when he got home couldn’t dim the smile on his face.

Luka spent the next few days in a glow of quiet contentment, polishing his new song and texting occasionally with Marinette. She was incredibly busy during work hours, but they spoke a little bit each evening.

Happy as he was, though, he still felt...heavy. It made him think about what Juleka had said and he began to wonder if there was more to what he was feeling than grief over his mother.

Luka could have texted but he called just for the comfort of hearing her voice and the everyday sounds of her life in the background. “Hey, Jules,” Luka said, smiling at the sound of Angie’s distant coos and Rose’s baby talk. “Can you text me Dr. Thorpe’s number? I think the one I have is out of date.”

“Yeah, sure,” Juleka replied, surprised. “Is...is everything okay? I thought...your date went okay, right? You told Rose it was good.”

She would have mocked him mercilessly if she could see the grin that broke over his face. “It went amazing,” he told her. “It’s just...I was thinking about what you said, about how I’ve been lately, and maybe there’s...maybe there’s more to how I’ve been feeling than just losing Mom, you know? You know the medication never worked for me like it did for you, but it’s been a few years. I thought maybe I could just check in with the doc and see if there’s anything new I could try. Obviously just the meditation and exercise isn’t cutting it anymore, so…can’t hurt to ask, right?”

“Yeah...yeah, I get it. I think that’s a good call.” He heard her sigh of relief and winced slightly. “You’re still going to the support group?”

“Not as regularly, lately, but yeah, I go when I need to,” Luka told her, tapping one finger on his leg restlessly. “Hey...thanks for everything. I know I’ve made things really hard for you when they were already difficult, so...thanks for being there.”

“Just returning the favor,” Juleka mumbled.

“That’s not one I ever wanted paid back,” he sighed.

“Well…” Juleka fell silent for a moment, and Luka waited for her to put her thoughts together. “Well. It’s not over yet, but you’re working on it so...it’s okay. I’m okay. I can handle it.”

“It’d be okay if you couldn’t,” Luka reminded her. “I don’t ever want to be—”

“Shut up,” Juleka bit out harshly. “Just shut up, Luka. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She sighed heavily.

"Okay,” Luka said gently. “Okay, Jules. That’s all I needed anyway. I love you, okay?”

“Sap,” she muttered, and then, “So the date went well?”

Luka let his head fall back and grinned at the ceiling. “The date went great. Amazing. We’re supposed to go out again soon.” He hesitated. “I was thinking,” he said slowly, “About maybe taking her to The Highlander.”

“The Highlander? You haven’t been there in months,” Juleka said, and Luka could hear she was frowning. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Especially for a second date.”

“No,” Luka admitted, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. “You think it’s too soon?”

“I think maybe you should go by yourself—wait, not by yourself. I think you and I should go first. See how you handle it. It didn’t go so well last time, Luka. And you haven’t been there in ages, you know people are going to stop to talk and they’re going to want to know how you are and...it just might be hard.”

Luka pressed his lips together and sighed through his nose. “Yeah. You’re right. Maybe a little bit later.”

“I just don’t want you to take on more than you can handle,” Juleka said, and he could hear Rose’s worried voice asking indistinct questions in the background. “Or rushing things too much and getting hurt. It might be just a quirky little Scottish pub to her but that doesn’t change what it is to us. It’s not fair to take her there like it’s just another theme bar.”

“Right,” Luka sighed. “Okay, I’m convinced. I’ll think of something else. You know I kind of hate movie dates.”

“That’s because you’re intense and nosy,” Juleka told him bluntly. “Movie dates are good, they give you something to talk about besides prying out her darkest secrets or spilling all of yours.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“I always do,” Juleka snorted. “Someone has to keep you from getting all up in your head and being an idiot.”

“Yeah, thanks so much for that,” he grumbled, but he was smiling.

“Luka…”

“Yeah?”

There came another gusty sigh. “I love you too.”

Then she hung up on him. Luka rolled his eyes, but smiled a moment later when his phone dinged as her text with the number came through.

***

Luka’s good mood lasted through the week, right until the moment he opened his door to a slightly pale Louis and a stone-faced Adrien. Luka pursed his lips for a moment. Adrien didn’t say anything until Luka sent Louis into the studio with instructions to start his warmups. The room was mostly soundproof with the door closed. Luka made sure it was shut and then went back to the hall where Adrien was still standing, his expression still stiff but murder in his eyes.

“Enjoy your date?” Adrien growled.

Luka folded his arms and leaned one shoulder against the wall. “I did. I’m hoping to take her out again sometime soon.”

Adrien’s face twisted. “Did you fuck my wife, Couffaine?”

Luka sighed through his nose, lips tight. “I did not sleep with your ex-wife, no,” he said slowly, looking Adrien in the eye. “I took her out, I did my best to charm the hell out of her, and I kissed her.” He straightened up off the wall and faced Adrien. “Not that it’s actually any of your business what we do together.”

“If it gets out—”

“I don’t give a shit, Adrien,” Luka said sharply, leveling a glare at his old friend. “I don’t care about your reputation, I never have. Isn’t that why your father told you to stay away from me in the first place?”

Adrien reared back a little. “That—”

“Forget it,” Luka cut him off, holding up a hand. “Listen, I don’t hold your father against you. Not the things he said and did, and not the things he made you do. I know that none of that was your fault. But what you do and say here and now, Adrien, that’s on you, so don’t talk to me about making Marinette dance to your tune to save your reputation, or this conversation is gonna go downhill real fast. She’s single. She’s her own woman. She can date who she wants. If that’s me—” Luka shrugged. “I couldn’t care less what your investors think about it.”

“You absolute bastard.” Adrien scowled when Luka didn’t react. “How the hell can you stand there and act so calm?”

“Because I know your feelings don’t actually have anything to do with me,” Luka said softly. “You feel angry and hurt and betrayed, just like you have for the last, what, year and a half? Almost two, now, right? But deep down I don’t think you’re petty enough to want Marinette to be miserable, or to resent me for making her happy. If that’s even something she wants, by the way, which is by no means certain. It was only one date.”

“I can’t believe you,” Adrien burst out, his hands making an abortive gesture at his sides. “You knew her for what, five minutes?”

“Don’t give me that,” Luka snapped, his arms unfolding as he gave Adrien a hard look. “I know exactly how long it took for you to find somebody else after the divorce was final, the whole world does.”

Adrien winced. “That was a mistake,” he muttered. “I was hurt, I was angry, she was the one person I thought would never leave and I just wanted—” he broke off and took a shuddering breath.

Luka softened a little, reminding himself that this was his friend. “Look,” he sighed. “I know you’ve gone through a lot and we do stupid things when it comes to the people we love. I get it. I know that the divorce wasn’t what you wanted, I get that too. But you don’t get to decide when she’s allowed to move on. Or to whom.” He waited for a moment but Adrien said nothing, and he went on. “Look. For what it’s worth, I give you my word, I will treat her right. I’ll be careful with her and I’ll be careful with Louis. I’m trying to be as careful as I can with you, I really am.”

“I know,” Adrien ground out. “I think it just makes it worse. I really want to hate you.”

“I know. If you don’t want to talk to me for a few weeks—or longer—I totally get it. I can start doing written reports over email for Louis. You can just drop him off and pick him up and leave without saying a word to me if you want. I mean, you can pull him out if you want to, but I don’t think either of us really wants that. He’s doing really well so far.” Luka hesitated. “I don’t want to cause him problems though so if he’s no longer comfortable with me, I’d understand.”

Adrien took a deep breath. “We’ll see,” he said grudgingly. “I just don’t know right now. I’m not sure he’d tell us if he was uncomfortable, to be honest, and I don’t...well. Like I said, we’ll see. You’ll probably see it before either of us if he’s got a problem with you. For now, just go on, he’s waiting for you, and I really need to get out of here. I’m still mad as hell.”

Luka nodded. “Later, Adrien.”

“Asshole,” Adrien muttered as he left.

When he entered the studio, Luka wasn’t surprised to see Louis sitting tense on the piano bench, not playing. He went over and leaned against the piano instead of sitting next to him as he normally would. “Hey,” Luka smiled. “Your mom talk to you?”

“Yeah,” Louis said, staring at the keys.

“You want to talk about it, or are you not ready yet?”

Louis glanced up at him in surprise, then seemed to think about it. “I don’t think I want to,” he said after a moment.

“Okay. Can I sit?” Louis hesitated, and Luka added, “Or do you just want to play your feelings for a minute?” It had become part of their routine, whenever Louis seemed to need it. He still fumbled a lot, not quite comfortable with improvising, but the emotions were there and came across and that was what mattered.

Louis nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I need that.”

“Can I stay, or would you rather I let you get it out on your own?”

Louis seemed to think again, and Luka was glad. At least the boy wasn’t just rejecting him outright. “You can...you can stay, I think. Maybe it’ll be easier than talking.”

“Okay. Thanks for that. If you change your mind, let me know and I’ll go. I know this is all—” Luka sighed. “Confusing, and frustrating and maybe even hurtful. It’s okay. You just...feel what you need to feel, and play what you need to play, okay? We don’t have to talk until you’re ready, and if that’s not today, that’s okay too. There’s no rush. We can set our own pace with this.”

Louis nodded, and raised his hands over the keys. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than Luka. “Okay.”

Luka leaned back against the piano, folded his arms, and closed his eyes, tuning into the music and the boy who made it. It was all the things he’d expected. Confused, angry, hurt, sad. Luka kept his expression neutral and resisted the urge to sigh. He reminded himself that he’d known it wouldn’t be easy. There wasn’t anything he could say to make this better.

He just had to be patient. This might have been easier if they hadn’t known each other already; he could have dated Marinette for a while until they were sure they had something serious and then met Louis. At least Luka hadn’t had to deal with every person his mother dated; she only asked him to meet the ones that mattered (though in the end, it turned out none of them had mattered that much).

But Louis was a smart kid, he already knew something was up, and when in doubt Luka tended to err on the side of openness. In Luka’s experience, secrets almost always hurt worse.

As he listened to Louis’ song, he was reminded of his conversation with Nicoline and the recorded performance he’d listened to when he got home. Luka had talked to Louis about performing in the recital and hadn’t gotten much more than weary acceptance. Apparently Louis was accustomed to being expected to perform whether he wanted to or not, which told Luka that, much like the younger Adrien, Louis had never performed a piece he was emotionally invested in. Luka hated that, and he didn’t want to ask Louis to perform another soulless piece, even if Louis technically picked it himself.

An idea was forming in his mind, but Luka was going to have to think carefully about it, about whether it was in Louis’ best interests or whether he was letting his own feelings, both old and new, color his judgement. He took a slow, thoughtful breath, tapping his fingers against his arm as he considered.

“Luka?”

Luka jumped slightly, and realized Louis had stopped playing and was looking at him. “Hey, sorry, man, I had a thought and I zoned out there for a second. I got the gist, though.” He motioned towards the piano bench. “Can I sit now?”

Louis slid over immediately, but Luka didn’t move until he said, quietly. “Yes. Go ahead.”

“Listen,” he said, “I said we don’t have to talk about anything until you’re ready and I mean that. I just want you to know that nothing that happens in this room changes. Here, it’s about the music and about helping you get to a good place with it. I know maybe it looked like I was off in my own world a bit for a second there, but it’s not because I wasn’t paying attention to you. What I was thinking about just now, that was about the music too. I just need to think about it a little more before we can talk about it, but I promise we will, okay?”

Louis nodded slowly.

“Do you want to talk about this thing with me and your mom?” Luka asked, stroking his own fingers along the keys for a moment, and then beginning to play absently as he spoke. “Or do you want to wait a little longer? Or maybe do it somewhere that’s not here?”

“I don’t know what to say,” Louis mumbled. “It’s not like it matters what I think.”

“Of course it does,” Luka said, pausing for a moment to look at him. “What you think always matters, Louis, and you deserve to be heard. So if you have something to say, you tell me so. I can’t say how much it’ll change anything, but I will always hear you and consider what you have to say, okay?”

“Yes,” Louis said after a moment. “That’s what Maman said, too.”

Luka put his hands back on the keys and began to play the turbulent waves of his own emotions, though it didn’t come as naturally to him on the piano as the guitar. “I can’t say I know exactly how you feel, because we’re two different people in different circumstances. But my parents split up when I was little, a few years younger than you, and I know how it felt when other guys started coming around my mom. So I’m not totally clueless here.” He glanced at Louis, and then went on. “I like your mom a lot, and she seems to like me pretty well so far, and it’s going to take a while to find out exactly what that means for all of us. Your mom and I, we have a lot to figure out and we’re going to take our time doing that. That’s what dating is for, you know? Getting to know each other and figuring out whether you can be good together and you want the same things out of life and relationships and whatever, and that takes time. So not a lot’s going to change overnight, okay?”

Louis nodded slowly. “That’s what she told me.”

“Good,” Luka smiled slightly. “So that part’s between me and her and that’s stuff nobody can figure out but us. You and your mom are a package deal, though, so that means, you and I have stuff that nobody else can figure out either. That’s the good news, though, that you and I get to decide what that means, no one else. I mean, your mom and dad, they’re still your mom and dad and they’re going to make the rules for a while, and you and I, we get to just hang out and get to know each other. And if it turns out we can’t stand each other, well, obviously that’s a problem that we’re all going to have to deal with. But, so far, I think you’re a pretty cool kid, Louis.”

Louis looked up at him sharply, eyebrows soaring, breaking that polite mask into a look of incredulous doubt. “You think I’m cool,” he said in a deadpan voice.

Luka laughed, actually pleased to see a normal kid expression on Louis’ face. “Why is that a surprise?”

“Nobody thinks I’m cool,” Louis drawled, like Luka was completely dense. “Not sure how you didn’t notice, but I’m a nerd, Luka.”

Luka was struggling not to completely lose it. “Nerds can be cool,” he managed to say through the suppressed laughter threatening to strangle him. “So what if you’re a nerd? What’s wrong with being passionate about knowledge?”

“But I’m—” Louis looked down at himself, at his clothes, Luka realized, and made a face.

“Sophisticated?” Luka grinned.

Louis gave him an exasperated look. “I look like I tripped and fell off a catalogue page.”

Luka tried not to laugh. “So what?”

“So I am not cool,” Louis pouted, folding his arms. “I’ll never be cool.”

“Louis,” Luka chuckled, taking his hands off the keys and turning slightly to face the boy. “The kind of cool I’m talking about isn’t about how you dress or what your hobbies are or what instrument you play.” He nodded at the piano. “It’s about being interesting and fun to be around and putting out good energy to the people around you, and you’ve got all of that. You want me to pick another word, I will, but what you call it isn’t going to change anything.” Luka cocked his head. “Do you want to be different from the way you are?”

“Well…” Louis looked thoughtful, his hand going up to rub the back of his neck in a gesture that Luka immediately recognized. “No? Or maybe...maybe sometimes. Maybe some things. I like most of it, fencing and music and...and school—” He darted a quick look at Luka.

“Nothing wrong with being good at and enjoying all those things,” Luka nodded. “But there’s other things you’d like to try?” Luka suggested. “Including maybe changing up your look?”

Louis nodded.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Luka said, again having trouble keeping a straight face. “Trying out things is part of growing up. And if you don’t like these supposedly cool things, that doesn’t make you uncool. Uncool is going with things you don’t really like just because you’re trying to fit some image people made up.” He paused for a second, suddenly feeling both an intense sense of deja vu and like he was on dangerous ground, because this time he wasn’t a kid talking to his friend, he was an adult, an authority, talking to a child who wasn’t his own. The last thing he wanted was to upset either of Louis’ parents by encouraging him in the little kid version of a Couffaine-style rebellion, even if he felt like the kid deserved to be a kid a bit more. “If there’s something like that you want to do or try, just tell your parents so,” he said. “Or your therapist, if you don’t feel comfortable going to them right away, and she’ll help you figure out how to ask. It’s her job to help you work through hard stuff like that, right?”

Louis wrinkled his nose slightly. “I can’t tell my mom I want to change the way I dress, she’d be so upset. All the clothes I wear are her clothes.”

“You think so?” Luka asked, slightly surprised, his eyebrows raising. “You think your mom would rather you wear clothes you don’t like and don’t feel good in just to make her comfortable, instead of being honest with her and letting her help you find something you like better?”

Louis opened his mouth and then shut it again.

“It’s okay to want things and it’s okay to ask for the things you want,” Luka told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You might not always get them but your parents love you and I know they’ll at least talk about them with you. I might not know your mom as well as you do, but I feel pretty confident she wouldn’t want you to stay silent about something that’s bothering you just to keep from upsetting her. I might be way off base but I bet helping you figure out a look you actually like would be a fun challenge for her.” He shrugged. “Ask her and see. The worst she can say is no, right?”

“Yeah...maybe…” Louis looked away, reaching for the keys again. He played a simple exercise, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Hey,” Luka said, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Are we cool? For now, at least?”

Louis took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah. For now.”

“Fair enough,” Luka smiled, letting his hand fall away. “So, we still have a little time left before your dad comes back, let’s get back to the music, shall we? And from now on, anytime you want to talk to me about any of that other stuff, you can call or text. We won’t talk about it again during lessons. I meant what I said. This time is for you and the music and everything else stays outside the door, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis gave a little smile.

Luka felt a little encouraged by the talk, and a little relieved that once it was out of the way, they’d been able to fall back into their usual routine for lessons. Guilt descended on him though when Adrien returned to pick Louis up. Both men were nothing less than cordial in front of Louis, but the easy familiarity they’d always had was gone, and Luka was sure Louis sensed the tension between them no matter how the two adults tried to hide it.

Luka sank back on his couch when they were gone, letting his head fall back against the back. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there just staring at the ceiling, but the sun was down when he finally got up.

***

If he’d had any second thoughts over the next few days, his second date with Marinette renewed his resolve. He took Juleka’s advice and they went to a movie, something not too intense that they could laugh and poke fun at afterwards. Marinette seemed a little more relaxed, and he teased her about her choice of snack foods and she teased him for the way he kept humming the soundtrack over and over.

If the kisses they shared were softer and maybe a little shyer than before, they were just as sweet, and Luka couldn’t find it in him to be disappointed. They had maybe gone a bit fast for a first date, anyway. If she wanted to slow down a bit, that was fair. He came home smiling again, a little lightness in his heart that couldn’t be crowded out by all his other worries.

Luka was humming to himself the next day as he let himself into the small cafe and waved to the owner before throwing himself down at a table by the windows and waiting for the company he expected, but who was, as usual, late.

Nicoline Sardou was a tall, angular woman with a commanding presence almost as powerful as her voice. It served her well on stage and in crowds, but she didn’t seem to know how to turn it off (or she chose not to), and being in a small space with her tended to feel overwhelming. She walked into the small cafe like the diva she was, complete with oversized sunglasses and giant, flashing chandelier earrings, and scanned the tables for him.

Luka waved to get her attention. He saw her chin jerk when she spotted him and chuckled as he watched people practically leap out of her way as she approached. Luka had grown up with Anarka Couffaine, who’d had a different energy but just as much force behind it, and Juleka, who’d had a runway walk so fierce it made everyone in the front rows lean back every time she was on the catwalk, so he wasn’t phased by the aura of mystique she projected, and he always found it mildly entertaining to see other people react to her.

Besides, he’d known Nicoline since university and it was hard to be intimidated by a woman he’d taken to the emergency room for a fractured coxis when she’d landed on her ass after a botched kegstand.

“Good to see you, Nic,” he said, standing to greet her. They exchanged a bise and Nicoline squeezed his arm briefly before they sat back down.

“It’s been ages since I saw you last,” she said as they waited for the food they’d ordered. “You’ve barely even been answering my texts.”

Luka sighed and tried to smile. “I’m really sorry about that. I’m trying to be better.”

“You look better,” Nicoline said, tilting her head slightly. “Not so...sleepy. Are you resting better?”

“Sometimes,” Luka shrugged, but he didn’t really want to talk about it just then, even with someone he’d known as long as Nic. “So, Spring Recital,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “I know I haven’t been as engaged as I should and I’m sorry. Can you bring me up to speed on where we’re at?”

“Right,” Nicoline said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a folder, setting things out on the table between them. “I’ve reserved our usual venue and my students have chosen their pieces. Here’s the ones I need backup for.” She slid a list across the table, and then tapped one painted nail on a name. “This is the one I wanted to talk to you about. She’s really good, Luka, probably one of my favorite students I’ve ever taught. I want her to do the showcase piece, but if you don’t have any students who can match up to her, I’d rather use canned music.”

Luka gave a thoughtful hum, looking at the name and the piece listed next to it. “Do you have—” Nicoline was pushing a CD across the table to him before he even finished speaking. Luka quirked an eyebrow at the choice of medium but picked it up and set it next to him on the table.

“She’s track six,” Nicoline told him. “You’ll know her when you hear her. I was thinking maybe piano and guitar? Maybe drums if you can keep them from being too heavy.

Luka nodded. “I’ll listen to her and see who I’ve got that matches her style. I’m not going to pressure anyone into it though, Nicoline, you know I don’t believe in that.”

Nicoline waved that away; it was an old argument. Their teaching styles were as different as their personalities, and when they’d first gotten the idea to have Nicoline’s vocal students pair with Luka’s instrumentalists and collaborate on a few recital pieces, it had seemed almost crazy. Luka had always managed to match up groups that worked, though, and he was of the opinion that the students worked a little harder when someone else was counting on them.

“Just let me know once you’ve got an arrangement put together,” Nic said, “And we can work out a rehearsal schedule.”

“Who else is on board for the recital?” Luka asked, and they spent the rest of the lunch gossiping about their colleagues. Luka was sadly out of date on the news and he cringed a little as Nicoline related the latest drama to him. He should definitely touch base with some people.

“You want to come home with me?” Nicoline asked as she stirred her drink. “You look better but still like you could stand to lose a little tension.” She offered him a little smile. “And I missed you.”

Luka shook his head and he could feel his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile too broadly. “I’m actually seeing somebody at the moment.”

“Oooh,” Nicoline raised her eyebrows, a sly grin of her own spreading over her face. “Is it serious?”

“It’s new,” Luka said, avoiding her gaze as he poked at his food, still smiling. “But yeah, it’s pretty serious. For me, anyway. It’s...things are...well—” He bit his lip to stop the fumbling, and shrugged just slightly. “She’s got baggage. And it’s not like I’m exactly rock steady myself right now. So...I think it’s gonna go slow....” He caught Nicoline’s look and grinned sheepishly. “Slow-ish,” he amended. “But…” That smile was trying to break through again. “But I think it’ll be worth it.”

“Worth it, like, the one worth it?”

Luka made a noncommittal noise but he still couldn’t look her in the face.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Nicoline said, eyes narrowed, and he felt all the force of her personality on him in that moment. “Spill.”

“Her son is one of my students,” Luka admitted, leaning his chin on his fist.

It was almost comical, how fast Nic’s eyes flew open. She leaned forward slightly. “You’re dating a client?”

“Technically, no,” Luka mumbled. “Technically, her ex-husband is my client.”

Nicoline didn’t answer for a moment and he flicked his eyes up at her.

“Luka,” Nicoline sighed, shaking her head. “You never do things the simple way.”

“Never,” he agreed, sitting up straight. “It’s a Couffaine thing.”

Nicoline checked the time on her phone. “I’ve got five minutes. Spill.”

Luka snorted, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “No.” He grinned to himself as he counted out the money, watching Nicoline’s mouth drop open in surprise and outrage, and then he stood up and dropped his cash on the table. “See you later, Nic. I’ll be in touch about the group.” He waved the CD at her and turned away, chuckling to himself as he left the cafe.

***

A week later, Luka was looking forward to his third date with Marinette with the same excitement and anticipation fizzing in his veins, but he knew something was wrong as soon as they met up. Marinette was tense, and she couldn’t seem to look at him for very long—but she couldn’t seem to stop looking at him, either. She kept shooting him quick, darting glances that skittered away before he could meet them. He reached for her hand and she let him take it, but her grip in return was weak and he thought maybe she was shaking.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, when there was a lull in the sidewalk traffic that gave them a quiet moment.

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled up at him, and her hold on his hand got a little tighter. “It’s good.”

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly as her gaze shifted away again. “Marinette,” he said, letting go of her hand to put his on her shoulder. “Please.”

“It’s nothing, really, just something I wanted to talk about, but it can wait until we’re settled somewhere. It’s not, um...nothing earth shattering, I promise. I think.”

That was less reassuring than she had probably intended, but Luka did his best to cover his concern until they got to the restaurant they had agreed on.

They ordered food and tried to chat, but Marinette was distracted and Luka was worried, and they couldn’t seem to keep a topic going.

“Marinette,” Luka sighed finally, pushing his plate aside to take her hand. “Please just tell me what’s on your mind? Let’s just...deal with whatever it is, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said quickly, her fingers curling tight around his. “I didn’t want to ruin everything, and now I am and—”

“Marinette,” Luka interrupted, “Please. Just tell me.”

She winced a little at his tone, and he regretted it, but the flightier she acted the more he began to fear the worst. “I just,” she hesitated, and Luka’s worry increased. “I guess I just wanted to know if we’re, um, exclusive? Or are we...not allowed but...I mean are we…”

Okay, he told himself, that...wasn’t as bad as it could have been. “Do you want to be?” Luka asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“Well I—” Marinette began, and then she looked down, fiddling with her napkin. “It’s just, someone else asked me out, and I realized I didn’t know, um, where you stood on us dating other people besides each other.” She glanced up at him and away, and Luka picked up his drink to give himself something to do while he tried to gather the wits her simple question had just scattered to the wind.

“Well,” he said slowly as he set his glass down. “We’ve only seen each other a few times. I think things are going really well and I hope that will continue, but if you want to see other people too, I wouldn’t feel right telling you not to.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Honestly, it pains me to say this, you probably should, Marinette, if you want to even a little bit. It might be good for you. I don’t want you to have any doubts or regrets.”

“I just can’t help but think...I never really dated anyone but Adrien before, and…”

“Of course,” Luka nodded, and took her hand. “That makes total sense. So if you want to try going out with some other people, then I’m not going to stand in the way of that. I won’t say I really like it, but I understand.” He gave her a lopsided smile that he hoped didn’t betray him too badly and gave her a quick wink. “I’ll just have to step up my game, that’s all.”

She squeaked and reached quickly for her water glass, and Luka chuckled in spite of himself.

He tried to act as normal as he could for the rest of the date, but he knew he was quieter than he had been. He clung to her hand a little tighter, but kept his distance more than he had before, suddenly unsure of himself in a way he wasn’t really accustomed to. Luka couldn’t help feeling like he’d been misreading something, getting more invested than was justified, and all he could do was hold it together as best he could until he could get home and think.

Their kiss goodnight was soft and sweet and he lingered over it longer than he probably should have, but it was reserved, too, in a way it hadn’t been before now, at least on his part.

“Luka, is...are you really, okay with what we talked about?” Marinette asked him, her eyes tight.

Luka sighed. Clearly he hadn’t fooled her at all. “In my head, yeah,” he said, looking down at their fingers tangled together. “I know this is the right thing to do and I genuinely want you to be with me because you want to, and not because you just felt like you couldn’t explore other options. At the same time, I’m really into you and my heart and my gut might be having a harder time with it, that’s all. I’ll deal with it.”

Marinette’s brow creased slightly and she frowned. “If you’re not really okay with this...I really like you too, Luka, and I don’t want to—”

Luka smiled faintly. “I want you to be happy, Marinette. When you are ready for something more serious, I don’t want you to have any doubts. Figure out what you need, and do it, okay? Thank you for being honest with me about it.” He lifted her hand and stroked his thumb along the ladybug tattoo. “Just...keep me posted? On where we stand.” He hesitated. “Do you still want to go out again next week?”

“Yes,” Marinette said firmly, squeezing his hand. “Definitely.” She tugged him forward a little, and he stepped closer. “Luka, this doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you. I like this, I like what we have. I like you. A lot. And this is definitely not me liking you less as time goes on.” She blushed, dropping her eyes for just a moment before she looked back up at him. “It’s just, it’s like you said. I don’t want to have any doubts. I had such tunnel vision, with...before, and look how it turned out.” Marinette sighed, her brow creasing slightly. “I feel like that could happen again really easily...with you, so…” She bit her lip, eyes searching his face. “But now I’m scared of ruining what we have. Maybe I shouldn’t—what are you doing?”

Luka drew her close, hands sliding from her waist to the small of her back as he dipped his head towards her.

“If I’m going to have some competition, I want to make sure I leave an impression,” he breathed, lips brushing hers. “Is that okay?”

He felt her lips move but no sound came out. “Marinette?”

She managed to make a noise of assent and nod slightly, and Luka kissed her softly, once, twice, and then more firmly, tasting her with light brushes of his tongue as he coaxed her lips open. Luka kissed her as thoroughly as he knew how, focused on her reactions, intending to do exactly as he said, but also to fill himself with the taste, the feel of her, the sound of her soft noises in his ears, to burn it into his mind against the day when he might have to give it up. Marinette’s fingers curled into his coat and she whimpered softly. He let her turn her head away to gasp for air but pressed his lips into her jaw, and then her neck, and when she gasped his name it was shaky and breathless in a way that made him shiver, but it also held a note of warning that he couldn’t ignore. Luka nuzzled her neck one more time, breathing her in, and pulled back, placing one more soft kiss on her lips before he straightened.

“Too much?” he asked quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Marinette shook her head, her cheeks bright pink. “It was a lot, but...not too much. Not from you.”

That brought the most genuine smile he’d had all evening to his face. “I should go. I’ll text you about next week?”

Marinette nodded, and rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight, Luka.”

“Goodnight, Marinette.”

Luka rode the subway home in a haze of confused, upset feelings. When he got home he kicked off his shoes and tossed away his jacket, pulling off his shirt on the way to his bedroom. He fell face down onto the bed, his phone gripped tightly in one hand, the edges of it digging into his palm.

He raised it up and turned his head enough to peek at the time, and then he buried his face in the mattress again. It was late. Juleka would answer, even if she was sleeping, but he couldn’t do that to her. He took a deep breath and rolled over. He unlocked his phone, thumb hovering over Juleka’s number, and then Nicoline’s. She would be awake, but...he didn’t think Nicoline’s brand of support was what he needed right then. He switched to his music app and turned it on, dialing the volume up as high as it would go before setting the phone in the charging dock on his nightstand. He shimmied out of his pants and under the covers, and then curled up, counting the beats of the music and praying for sleep.

***

It took Luka a few days to get his head together again after the bomb Marinette had dropped on him. He felt stupid, and frustrated, and disappointed (and irrationally angry at Juleka for being right), but he was determined not to let it bring him back down. He wasn’t sure if Marinette had talked to Louis about her intention to date other people. Louis didn’t bring it up at his lesson, so Luka let it lie, figuring it wasn’t his business to mention it if Louis didn’t.

He felt a little bit better when Marinette called and asked him to go to a concert with her. The musician was a client and had given Marinette tickets, and she thought of him, so if he wasn’t busy, although it wasn’t really his style of music and maybe he wouldn’t be interested, but if he was, she really would rather go with him than anyone else, and—

Luka was laughing by the time she paused long enough for him to accept her offer, and teased her about implying he was a music snob, and eventually she recovered from her spluttering to tease him back, and by the time Luka hung up the phone he was smiling. She thought of him, she invited him, and that was enough to help him find his resolve, and determine to put truth to what he’d said to her about stepping up his game.

He focused his mind back on his work, and work found him sitting in a boring little bar in a neighborhood full of high rise office complexes.

Luka had taken his time with this decision—almost too much time, if he wanted the kids to be ready in time, but he still tapped his fingers nervously on the table while he waited. It wasn’t a particularly ritzy bar, but Luka felt very out of place in this crowd. It wasn’t his normal hour to be out and the place was full of businessmen getting off work for the day.

Luka didn’t actually have to be here. Technically, he could have had this conversation over the phone, or even over email, but he wanted to do it in person. Luka wasn’t sure if he was in for an argument or not but he’d get a better read of the situation face to face.

He was expecting it to be...awkward, though, after their last conversation.

“So much for you don’t have to talk to me for a while,” Adrien grumbled, dropping into the chair across from Luka.

It had been several weeks, but Luka could understand that it probably didn’t seem like long enough to Adrien. “I’ll be quick,” Luka said, leaning his elbows on the table. “Drink? On me.”

“God yes.” Adrien flagged down a server and ordered a drink that made Luka raise his eyebrows slightly. “It’s the end of the work day and I’m not driving,” Adrien defended himself, and Luka shrugged.

“Just not the kind of thing you usually drink,” he commented, voice carefully neutral.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while since we got a drink together,” Adrien snorted as the server returned and tapped the glass down in front of him. Luka was mildly amused at the prompt service; Adrien’s rich guy vibe was palpable, apparently. Or maybe he was a regular here, since it was near the office. “Now what do you want?” Adrien demanded, picking up his drink.

“I wanted to ask,” Luka said, curling his fingers in as he realized they were still drumming on the table, “If you’re still on that whole ‘Agrestes are soloists,’ thing your dad was so dead set on.”

Adrien’s expression didn’t change other than the slight raise of his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because an opportunity has come up for Louis—”

“No,” Adrien interrupted, putting his glass down. “No way. Marinette and I agreed before he was born, no opportunities until—”

“Let me finish,” Luka broke in, raising his hands slightly, and Adrien pressed his lips together. “Sorry,” Luka continued. “I forgot that might be a loaded word for you. Not that kind of opportunity, not a money-making type thing. Just, a chance to play as part of a group in the Spring Concert. I have a colleague looking for a group to back one of her singers. I’ve got a few students in mind and I think Louis would be a good fit for them. But before I even brought it up to him, I wanted to run it by you. I don’t want to get him excited about something you might not approve of.”

“As if you ever cared about anyone’s approval,” Adrien snorted, and Luka shrugged.

“It’s different when you’re working with kids,” Luka pointed out. “I don’t make decisions about what’s right for other people’s children. I’m just his teacher. You're his father.” At Adrien’s sharp look, he added, “That won’t change no matter what happens between me and Marinette. You’ll always be his father.”

“I know that,” Adrien growled, picking up his drink and hiding behind it. Luka fought the urge to roll his eyes. After a minute, Adrien put the glass down with a little more force than necessary. “I’m not my father,” he said bitterly.

Luka raised his eyebrows. “I know that,” he echoed.

“Do you?” Adrien sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Does anybody?”

“Do you?” Luka asked, before he could think better of it, and stiffened slightly when Adrien’s eyes narrowed at him. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Look, Adrien, I—”

“Don’t,” Adrien snapped. “Just don’t, Luka. I know you lost your mom unexpectedly too and all, but don’t try to tell me you understand.” He turned his face away, blinking rapidly as he took a large swallow of his drink.

“Okay,” Luka said softly, looking at the table and turning his glass absently. “I won’t. I don’t.” He closed his lips on whatever else he wanted to say. At least you got to bury a body, he thought bitterly, but he knew that was unfair. Luka had always had very black and white feelings about Adrien’s relationship with his father, and he was beginning to suspect Marinette did also, but Adrien had never been able to see it that way and had ignored or resented any suggestion that he really didn’t owe his father the kind of loyalty he’d been trained to show. Adrien had spent his whole life waiting for...something. Some kind of catharsis. Some acknowledgement from his father. Some kind of confrontation that would end with a hug and an apology and the snooty rich person equivalent of “you did good son.”

It was never going to happen, even while Gabriel was alive, but there wasn’t even the remotest hope of it now that he was gone. And now it was all tangled into some vague wish of following the path his father would have wanted like the good son that he was. The good son Gabriel had never acknowledged him to be.

It was sad. It was also, Luka couldn’t help feeling, raised to independence and free will as he had been, a little pathetic.

It was maybe a little easy for Luka to say, though, just like it was easy for Adrien to feel like Luka’s pain was less because Luka had been close to his mother and always knew where he stood with her.

Luka shoved aside uncharitable thoughts about how little difference there was in Gabriel’s presence in Adrien’s life whether he was dead or alive, and how much one could possibly miss someone who had never bothered to be there in the first place, and wrenched his mind back to the issue at hand.

“Look,” he sighed, “If you’re not completely opposed to the idea, just think about it and call me before Louis’ next lesson. I think it would be good for him to play with other kids, to have a chance to interpret a piece of music into something he’s excited about playing and performing, start seeing music as a way to connect with people, but like I said, I’m not even going to bring it up if it’s not something you’re going to be on board with.”

Adrien looked at him with an expression Luka couldn’t quite parse. “Did you ask Marinette?”

Luka shook his head. Adrien might not believe it but Luka had no desire to cause problems between the two of them. He wasn’t sure how Adrien would react to the proposition, but he had a pretty good idea how Marinette would react if she found out Adrien had kept Louis from doing something because Gabriel Agreste wouldn’t have liked it. Luka had no interest in provoking that fight—at least not right now.

Adrien looked away and said nothing for a long moment. “I heard,” he said finally, still not looking at Luka, “I heard Marinette’s going out with one of the accounting consultants this weekend.” He glanced at Luka. “Office gossip, you know. And Nino let slip that she was seeing someone else last week.”

Luka just looked back at him, careful to show no reaction. Whoever else she was seeing, Marinette was still making time to go out with him pretty consistently, but that wasn’t really Adrien’s business. Just like it was none of Luka’s business, for the moment, who she was seeing besides him. He half expected Adrien to make some kind of crack at his expense, but Adrien just shook his head, getting up from the table.

“If Louis wants to do it that’s fine with me,” he muttered, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. “I’m not my father, and Louis isn’t me. And…” He hesitated, pulling some money out of his wallet and dropping it on the table. “I brought him to you for a reason,” he said finally. “If you think it would be good for him then I trust your judgement. He’ll have plenty of chances for solos in the future, I’m sure,” he added, almost to himself.

Luka rolled his eyes, though he had no doubt Adrien was right. He kept his mouth shut, though, as Adrien made his way out of the bar. Luka paid the tab and left, leaving Adrien’s money on the table.

When he got home, he sat down at his table and took out his phone. He stared at it for a moment, and then dialed Marinette’s number. He half expected voicemail, but just before it would have clicked over, the call went active, and there was a sudden thud and crash and “Oh shit!”

Luka was laughing when Marinette finally came on the line with a breathless, “Hi Luka!” that made his heart flutter.

“Hi Marinette,” he chuckled. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, still panting. “Just, um, I almost didn’t hear it, and then I tripped, and when I went to grab it I knocked it off my work table, and—um, anyway you called so…”

“I did,” Luka smiled, “And I would have called back. You didn’t have to half kill yourself to get to the phone.”

“Well, I...it might have been important!” He could almost imagine the way she blushed and pouted as she said it.

“Is this an okay time?” he asked, running his fingers through his hair and trying to collect his thoughts. “I just wanted to run something by you about Louis.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, and Luka might have imagined it but he thought she sounded disappointed. “Okay. Y-yeah, now’s fine. What’s going on?”

Luka explained, unsurprised when Marinette asked quite a few more questions than Adrien.

“Well, it sounds fine to me,” Marinette said at last. “I’m not a musician and you’re his teacher, so if you think he’s up to it and that it will help him, I’m happy for him to play with the group.” She hesitated. “I’m not sure how Adrien will feel about it though.”

“I already talked to Adrien,” Luka admitted. “I know that was kind of a thing with his dad—it’s why he pulled him out of the band, or so he said at the time, so I wanted to get a read on where Adrien stood. He said he was okay with it as long as Louis wanted to do it.”

“Oh,” Marinette sighed. “That’s a relief. I mean, he loves Louis and he always has Louis’ best wishes at heart, but—” She cut off and sighed.

“But he was brainwashed for twenty-five years by his asshole father and sometimes his sense of reality is warped by his incomprehensible loyalty to the man’s memory?” Luka suggested sardonically.

“At least someone can say it,” Marinette laughed, sounding a little guilty as she did. “But...yeah, basically. I’m glad to hear he didn’t put up a fuss. Thanks for, um...thanks for talking to him about it. I could have, but—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Luka shrugged. “It’s my job. Okay, if both of you are on board then I’ll talk to Louis about it at our next lesson.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Marinette agreed, and a slightly awkward pause ensued. Luka was opening his mouth to tell her goodbye when she suddenly said in a rush, “So, um...how was your day?”

Luka blinked, and then smiled, tracing the pattern of the wood grain on his table with his finger. “It wasn’t bad. I have a kid that’s been struggling with a piece and she really made a breakthrough today, and that’s always nice. How was yours? Or should I say, how is yours, are you still at work?”

“Yes and no,” Marinette replied, and there was some noise on the other end of the line, like she was moving things around. “I’m not at work, but I’m working in my home office. Louis is with Adrien tonight, you know, so I thought I’d get some work done, because I’m a little behind after all the chaos earlier.”

“Rough day up until now, huh?”

“Crazy,” Marinette groaned. “You wouldn’t believe what I had to deal with this morning…”

Luka smiled, settling back in his chair as Marinette began to rant in extremely entertaining terms about some mix up that had happened on the production floor that day. It reminded him of something that had happened on the boat years ago, and they chatted back and forth until Marinette yawned and Luka suddenly realized he was starving.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Marinette gasped. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long—I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Me neither,” Luka chuckled. “But I don’t mind.”

“You’re so easy to talk to,” Marinette sighed. “I wish…”

“You wish what?” Luka asked, when she didn’t continue, his pulse picking up a little.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, and Luka suspected from the tone of her voice that she was blushing. “Never mind.”

“Hey, do you maybe want to grab coffee tomorrow?” Luka asked on impulse. “I’ve got students in the afternoon, but in the morning—”

“I can’t,” Marinette nearly whined, and Luka bit down on a smile that wanted to become a laugh. “I’d really love to, but I can’t. I have um—plans already. For brunch.” She sighed like she was genuinely disappointed.

“Okay,” he said, smile fading slightly. “Some other time then.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said unhappily. “Some other time. Soon.”

“Soon, for sure,” Luka said quickly, the smile coming back a bit. “Goodnight, Marinette.”

“Goodnight, Luka,” Marinette sighed, and though he preferred hearing her happy, it gave him a little flutter that she seemed so reluctant to say it.

***

“Hey, man,” Luka grinned, crouching down to get a better look at Louis. “Spiderman, I like it.” He indicated the shirt under Louis’ button-down. Instead of his usual green Gabriel brand t-shirt, he sported black t-shirt with a red spiderman emblem on his chest. Louis grinned broadly and shrugged, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“Really?” he asked shyly.

“Yeah,” Luka nodded. “That’s from the new movie, right? The animated one?”

“Yeah,” Louis lit up. “It’s sooooo good!” He paused. “It’s not exactly new, though. It’s been out on Blu-Ray for a while already.”

“Man, I’m so out of touch,” Luka sighed with a lopsided smile. “The soundtrack is killer, I just never made the time to actually watch the movie. I didn’t realize it had been so long.” He leaned forward a little. “Your mom didn’t give you too much grief right? Do I need to talk to her?” He glanced up over Louis’ shoulder and winked at Marinette.

“Nah, my mom’s the best,” Louis beamed, looking back at her. Marinette blushed, and Luka coughed to cover a laugh.

“All right, go on back,” Luka told Louis, squeezing his shoulder as he stood up. “Warm up while we wait, the others should be here soon.”

“Okay!” Louis went around him, heading for the music room.

Luka looked back at Marinette, who was shaking her head at him.

“Charmer,” she accused, and Luka grinned, spreading his hands.

“I’m only charming because I’m honest.”

“And cute,” Marinette wrinkled her nose at him.

“Guilty,” Luka winked. “But don’t tempt me while I’m on the clock. I’m still a professional here.”

“Right,” Marinette said, reaching up to smooth her hair as she blushed. “Sorry.” She shuffled back a step, but didn’t turn to go. For a moment they just looked at each other, neither sure what to say. Piano music floated down the hallway; Louis hadn’t shut the studio door, and Luka laughed to himself as he recognized the tune of What’s Up Danger. “Wonder where he found piano music for that,” he murmured to himself, and Marinette giggled.

“The internet, probably. He’s pretty resourceful when he wants to be. Or maybe Adrien helped him find it.” She shook her head. “I should be mad at you,” she said, poking him lightly. “You could have warned me. About the whole ‘new look’ thing.”

“Ah, I probably should have,” Luka sighed, dropping his head back. “Sorry. I forgot. I don’t know, though, maybe it’s better this way. That he talked to you about it himself. Sorry if he blindsided you, though.”

Marinette shrugged. “It was a surprise, but it shouldn’t have been. He’s getting old enough to have opinions of his own on that kind of thing. I’m just happy he’s still willing to work with me on it. I don’t mind designing something more to his taste but I’d be pretty depressed if he refused to wear anything I made.”

“Why would he do that?” Luka grinned. “His mom’s the best.”

Marinette blushed again and put a hand over her face. “Stoooop,” she whined, and Luka chuckled.

“Yeah, I better.”

A familiar pattern knocked on the door before Marinette could answer, and Marinette stepped aside so Luka could open it.

“JP,” Luka grinned, greeting the boy standing there with a complicated high-five hand-shake fist bump. He raised a hand and waved to JP’s aunt, who waved back out of the car window before driving off, swerving around the town car still waiting for Marinette at the curb.

“I should—I should go,” Marinette said, squeezing past him and backing down the walk. “I’ll be back to pick up Louis later. Obviously.” Luka caught her arm and she blinked up at him.

“Step,” he reminded her with a lopsided smile, and she flushed as she took the small step down before pulling her arm away. “See you later,” he said, and she turned and waved awkwardly. Luka lingered on the doorstep, watching her get back in the car.

A cough by his elbow wiped the goofy smile off his face. Luka looked down and saw JP looking back at him with raised eyebrows. “Inside, punk, come on,” Luka muttered, shoving at the kids shoulder, and JP snickered as he went past him.

“Louis,” Luka called as they neared the studio, and the piano music stopped. “This is Jean-Paul Locke.”

“Louis Agreste,” Louis said formally, getting up from the piano bench and holding his hand out. JP gave Luka a look that asked, ‘Is this guy for real?’ but at Luka’s nod, he reached forward and shook Louis’ hand.

“Call me JP,” he said—mumbled, really, keeping his head down. Then he glanced up and smiled a little. “I like your shirt.”

“Thanks,” Louis grinned. “I like your shoes.”

JP grinned back, shuffling his graffitied kicks. “Thanks.”

“Get plugged in and tune up, JP,” Luka said, and JP let the guitar case he was carrying slide off his back. “I want you guys to listen to something.”

He got out the CD Nicoline had given him and put it in the player, watching the boys out of the corner of his eye. JP was a couple of years older than Louis, and while Luka had a complicated relationship with the word ‘prodigy,’ it fit more than it didn’t. Luka tried not to have favorite students, but JP was...a kindred spirit. He might struggle more than Louis with the technical part of making music, but Luka had never heard him play anything that didn’t come from his heart. He made everything he played his own, and Luka felt Louis had the same potential. He was hoping JP’s example would help Louis connect with his own music.

When JP looked up from his guitar, Luka started the music.

Nicoline hadn’t been lying about how good her student was. Her voice was clear and powerful, though still not quite mature, but she had that something that just hit you in the gut. Luka agreed with Nic, she was the real deal, and when he looked at the boys, he had to smile. Louis’ eyes were round, and JP looked impressed.

“Shit,” commented JP, when the music ended. Louis’ mouth dropped open and he turned to stare at the older boy. Luka sighed and smacked the back of JP’s head on his way to shut off the player.

“Come on, man, don’t make me be the swear police,” Luka admonished, and JP hunched slightly.

“Sorry. Just. Pretty nice pipes, that’s all.”

Luka hummed agreement, hooking a rolling stool with his foot and pulling it underneath him so he could sit and face the boys. “So, that’s the assignment. I want you guys to back Dez in the Spring Concert, if you’re up for it.”

“Dez?” JP snickered, and Luka rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Jean-Paul,” Luka said, with a pointed look and JP made a face. “So,” he continued. “Let’s see what you guys can do together.”

Louis and JP looked at each other, and back at Luka, and he just grinned. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, leaning back on his stool and waving towards the piano. “Play.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Whatever you want. Just jam together for a bit.”

“But…” Louis began, looking between Luka and JP.

“Talk about it,” Luka encouraged. “Work it out. Or, you know, one of you can just start playing and the other one can join in. Go for it.”

The boys just stood there, and finally JP rubbed a hand through his spiked hair. “You, um. You know Fallout Boy?”

Louis perked up. “Like, Big Hero 6?” He went to the piano and played a section of Immortals. Luka brought up a hand to rub his chin, covering his smile.

“Wow, you’re kind of a nerd, huh?” JP chuckled, but he went and perched on the piano bench, kicking his amp cord out of the way. “Sweet. Keep going, but pick up the tempo a bit.” He began tapping a rhythm out on the floor with his foot, and Louis increased his pace to match it. “Yeah, yeah,” JP muttered, bobbing his head, and his fingers began to move on the guitar. Louis looked at him, mouth dropping open slightly, and missed a note. Flushing at the mistake, he turned quickly back to his own playing.

Luka let the boys have fun for a little while, and then gave them the music they would actually be using for the spring concert, explaining that he wanted the boys to learn it as written first, and then they could talk about any changes or creative flairs they wanted to try.

JP’s aunt was there on the dot to pick him up, and he said goodbye to Louis with an easy grin, swatting Louis’ offered handshake away in favor of a fist bump. Louis was still at the piano when Marinette arrived a few minutes later. He jumped up from the bench, ran two steps, then remembered himself and did sort of an awkward power-walk to the door. “Come on, Maman, I gotta go home and practice some more!” he said, the written music held tightly in his hand. He remembered Luka and paused just long enough to say goodbye before opening the door himself and speeding towards the car.

“He looks really excited,” Marinette giggled, following him out of the door a few steps.

“Yeah, it’s pretty exciting, the first time you play with somebody you really vibe with,” Luka chuckled, leaning on the door frame. “Good, that’s what we want to see. Now I just gotta find them a drummer.” His thoughts wandered for a moment as he considered the possibilities, and when he focused on Marinette again she was smiling at him with a soft look in her eyes that made him swallow. “Can I call you later?” he asked impulsively, and she blinked back to reality, cheeks tinting pink when she realized what he’d said.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she replied, and looked like she might have said more, but Louis was suddenly hanging out of the car window, yelling for her to hurry up. Marinette’s lips pursed in a frustrated (but cute) pout. “Rude,” she called back to Louis, who rolled his eyes and popped back in the window. It was more like a kid than Luka had ever seen him act and he couldn’t help laughing, which caused Marinette to turn that pout on him.

Luka entertained a brief fantasy of completely grossing Louis out by kissing her stupid right there on the step, but instead he said quickly. “You better go. I’ll call you later. Bye, Marinette.”

He stepped back inside, barely managing to wait for her soft, “Bye, Luka,” and for her to walk back to the car before he shut the door and scrubbed his hands over his face with a sigh. They were supposed to go out again the following week, and he really wasn’t sure he could wait that long.

***

A few nights later, he was about to go to bed when someone knocked, loudly, on his front door. Frowning, Luka went to open it, thinking perhaps a neighbor had gotten locked out or something.

He had the barest instant to take in Marinette standing on his doorstep, styled and made up and wearing a distractingly well-fitting black dress and a distressed expression, before she burst out, “I don’t want to see anybody else.” She stood there, shifting from foot to foot and breathing fast, and for a moment Luka could only stare, blinking stupidly, and Marinette opened her mouth to speak again, but he held up a hand and stopped her, stepping back and motioning her inside.

Marinette swallowed whatever she’d been about to say and stepped inside. Luka closed the door behind her and took her hands, drawing her further inside so they weren’t standing in the echoing hallway. “Okay,” he said, squeezing her hands. “What’s going on?”

“I just, um...I had a date tonight and…”

“Did he hurt you?” Luka demanded, face darkening.

Marinette’s eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently. “No! No, no, of course that’d be the first thing you asked with me showing up like this and—No, I promise it was nothing like that, it was fine, actually, it was all fine—good, even, but...I just…” Marinette shrugged helplessly.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Luka said, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing lightly.

To his surprise she took a step forward and slipped her arms around him and squeezed tight, pressing her face into his shoulder. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It is now.”

Luka was still extremely confused, but he put his arms around her and held her until she squirmed to get free, pulling away from him. He let her go and she took a step back and a deep, shuddering breath, and then put her hands out to him. Luka wrapped his own around them, rubbing the backs lightly with his thumbs, and waited.

“This was maybe the...fourth guy I’ve gone out with?” Marinette frowned in thought. “Something like that. And...they’ve all been fine. It’s like you said, you know, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I had fun, mostly, but…” She flushed suddenly and bit her lip, looking away. Luka squeezed her hands gently.

“I kept thinking how much more fun I’d be having if I was with you,” she said finally, quietly. “Even tonight, this guy, it was our third date, and he was nice enough, just...he wasn’t you, and when he tried to kiss me, I just...I didn’t want to. And then I got in the cab to go home and instead I came here.” She took a deep breath and looked up into his face. “I know you said I should date other people—”

“Only if that was what you wanted,” Luka broke in, squeezing her hands a little tighter, trying not to show how his own heart had begun racing, the fluttery feeling in his belly.

“It’s not. I don’t want to, Luka. I just...I just want to b-be with you,” she stammered a bit, turning red again. “I, um, oh, shit, ” she hissed, stamping her foot and looking away from him, and Luka had to bite his lip to contain the laughter that wanted to burst from him.

“Take your time,” he said, not entirely without chuckling.

“I don’t want to date anybody else,” Marinette said, looking up to his face and suddenly looking very calm. “I just want to see where this takes us. I don’t want to have plans when you ask me to get coffee. Well, what I mean is, I don’t want to waste time I could be spending with you with someone else.” She paused, and then added in a rush, “And I really want you to be the one kissing me.”

Luka nodded slowly, a smile growing on his face. “I’m cool with all of that,” he said, and then added, “More than cool. I’m really happy, Marinette.”

“So, we can, um, be a couple?” she dropped her gaze, but he could see her smile. “Um, exclusively?”

“We can be whatever you want,” he said, letting go of her hand to brush his thumb along her cheek. She looked up again and his thumb brushed her lower lip, sending a jolt through him. “I’m good with whatever label you want to put on us,” he continued, a little roughly, and he had to clear his throat. “I didn’t want to say it at the time because—well, I’ve been told I can get a little intense and I didn’t want to freak you out, but I was never planning on dating anybody else. I’m in this to the end, whatever that turns out to be. I want to be the one kissing you, for as long as you’ll let me.” He took a breath. “Was that too much?”

“No,” Marinette murmured, her free hand coming up to curl around his wrist. “You are intense, that’s true, but...I like it. I like it a lot, Luka. I always appreciate how patient and careful you are with me but I think there’s something you need to understand about me.” She took a step forward and leaned gently into him. “I overthink things a lot, and sometimes I get nervous and run off at the mouth, and I definitely have some issues around relationships and intimacy, but...I’m not fragile. I can handle you. If it gets too much, I’ll tell you, but...I’m not really worried. Not about that, at least.” She sighed and slid her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Now I left the taxi waiting, so can you walk me to the door and then I can get my goodnight kiss from the man I really wanted it from? From...my boyfriend?” She wrinkled her nose slightly. “That sounds so...high school.”

“I like it,” Luka said roughly, pressing his forehead to hers. “I like it a lot.”

“Then it’ll do,” she whispered, and then slid her hands to his shoulders. “Now walk me to the door because if I kiss you here I’ll never make it home.”

“That’s a problem?” Luka only half joked as she took his hands again and tugged him along. “Hey, who’s walking who here?”

“You weren’t moving,” she giggled.

“Why would I want you to leave?” he teased.

“Mm, so I can go brag to everybody about my hot new boyfriend?” Marinette leaned back against the door, pulling him closer with a double handful of his t-shirt.

“Now that really does sound like high school,” Luka laughed, bracing one hand against the door as he leaned over her. Marinette tipped her head up, and he kissed those red lips, reveling in the way she sighed and pressed into him, in her lush, full lips, the smooth softness of her cheek and neck under his rough fingers as his thumb traced the elegant line of her jaw. Then her lips parted under his and she reached up and laced her fingers behind his neck, pulling him down into her, and she shifted her weight off the door until she was pressed against him. Luka slipped his hand from her face to wrap around her waist and pull her even closer, his hand still on the door steadying them both and grounding him, giving him the strength to finally pull back when he really would just as soon have suffocated if it meant kissing her a little longer. It took more than a moment for them to both catch their breath, both taking in each other’s disheveled appearances. Luka in his significantly more rumpled pajamas, the faintest trace of her expensive lipstick staining his mouth, his eyes hooded and his hair a wreck, and Marinette’s gorgeous blue eyes gone glassy and dark, her delectable mouth kiss-bruised, and—okay she really, really needed to go right now. Apparently she reached the same conclusion at that moment, because she reached back and fumbled for the door handle. Luka got there first and opened it for her.

“Text me, let me know you got home safe?” he managed to get out, aware that he was grinning like a fool.

“I will,” she flashed a bright smile at him that made his racing heart skip several beats, and he watched her until she was in the taxi before closing the door with a sigh.

No way he was sleeping now. Luka went straight for his guitar.

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