#i wasn't really expecting an ANSWER per se to my question (where i might be able to find copies of this rare title—a sexy pin-up one even)

[konstantya]

You (this pulp group I joined on FB) are utterly useless.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Hello Dear <3 I'm going to try to answer as many of the asker asks :D

My favorite fic of yours - Definitely has to be 'Life is short so make it sweet'! The way you build up Curtis and Honey, their relationship, their dynamic, the worldbuilding. I love all of it, even though I'm painfully behind on chapters. I also really loved Wilfords Demands when I read it on ao3. The story blew my mind and I still remember the moment I found out you wrote it

My favorite chapter in my favorite fic of yours - All of them?? I can't choose! All the chapters I read from Life is short so make it sweet were so so good. Maybe the one where Honey and Curtis have their first date? I remember this especially well

The best character you've written for - Curtis! No questions asked. You are the (from me personally) proclaimed queen of Curtis writing

A fic I haven't read yet from you, but I want to - The Pack series. Alpha Steve and Little One have crossed my dash so many times before and some of the glimpses I saw sounded so good. It just might be a tad too tense and angsty for me I fear

Something I remember vividly from reading one of your fics - it's not a memory per se but a feeling. I remember how giddy and happy and bubbling with excitement every chapter of Curtis and Honey's adventures made me feel

What I like the most about your writing - You have an incredible way with words to describe the surroundings and inner thoughts of your characters. I really enjoy your descriptions

A fic I didn't expect to like so much - Wilford Demands. I'm not the biggest fan of dark stuff and usually don't enjoy it but something compelled me to read Wilford Demands. Whatever that was, I'm grateful for it because the story sucked me in

<3 <3 <3

ALLY! the fact you left me so much is making me really tear up. You don't even know how much this made my day.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet is so incredibly important to me, more then I think I even realized what it was going to turn into, so to see you mention it and give it such a shoutout makes my heart so happy. The first date (which are you team Curtis that it was Paulies bar or team Honey and it was under the stars?) was scary for me to do! Im used to just having characters kind of together, the whole build up for them was almost a daunting task but damn glad I did it.

I love Curtis, I just want to give that character so much of my effort and time. I know he isn't considered 'the popular ones' but when I first watched him, he claimed a permenant place in my mind. It became a goal of mine to give him something good in some way.

I get the hesitation in reading The Pack. It has a heavier storyline and isn't for everyone. Those two go through so much and fight for everything they have, it doesnt always have a happy story. (BUT WE ARE NOT DONE YET, WHO KNOWS!)

Wilfords Demands. Man that series just... took a life of its own. It wasn't supposed to turn into the series it did, but it was meant to be. I still remember going over it and thinking "When did it turn into this?" cause it was really just supposed to be a few stories of dark smuttiness. I wish I could have seen your reaction when you realized it was mine. Lmao.

Thank you, for all of this and what you do for this fandom. I am so lucky to get to know you through your stories, our messages and crossing one anothers dash. Keep shining babes!

[pebblysand]

Hi!!! Happy travels! (is that thing in French or English?) soooo, I see you're going to read Evelyn Hugo, and this is my official request that when you finish it you come back here and give your opinions on it! I have A LOT of feelings/opinions about it, but I'd like to hear from you! Have a nice day!

hey anon! thank you! i don't think "happy travels" is a saying per se, but the french is "good travels", so i get what you mean <3.

okay so i'd actually started evelyn hugo this summer, and finished the rest on the plane yesterday, so i'm happy to report back! spoilers below the cut.

i gave it a 4/5 in my own little book rating system, and overall, i really, really liked it.

what i loved:

i loved how queer it was (which i wasn't expecting), but also how realistic it was in terms of queer stigma - not only with its time, but also with the film industry in general. i loved the conversation where one of them is like "elton john's been out for years" and the other one is like "yeah, elton john isn't living off his straight sex appeal though." it's kind of true. say a male-gaze beauty icon like megan fox was to come out as gay, i'm not sure she'd be as marketable, etc. so, in sum, i loved that aspect of the book. i loved the struggle everyone experiences with the sexuality, and how hard being in the closet also is, lying to everyone all the time. i thought this was great.

i also loved the way the book deals with the passage of time, and the phenomenon of getting old, especially in the public eye. i love how it blurs over whole sections of evelyn's life, in a "life just happened" sort of way, because that's also the truth, isn't it? years just pass sometimes.

i also very much loved (i think this might actually be my favourite thing about the book) how much value it puts on friendship, and chosen families, rather than biological families. i thought this was very unusual and refreshing, in adult literature. children's literature often puts a lot of value on friendship, then it all becomes about romance, and what the fuck do these people do with their friends, you know? and i felt like the relationship between harry and evelyn in this book was every bit as important as her relationship with celia, and treated with the same level of care and respect, which i very much appreciated. the fact that the happiest time in evelyn's life seems to be when they were all living in manhattan together felt so very precious. i frankly started bawling (in public, on the plane lmao) when harry died, and didn't stop until connor died. that's also perhaps something i wasn't expecting about this book. it is sad.

what i loved... less:

the reason why this book is a 4 ⭐️ and not a 5 ⭐️ is two-fold.

first, whilst it was well-written (and, if i ever manage to write an original work of fiction to this level, i will be very happy), the style didn't make me go "wow". the prose was great, it was lively and definitely enjoyable, but it didn't have the jaw-dropping factor i sometimes find in novels like incendiary or normal people. those are my five-stars, and this just wasn't to that level.

second, and most importantly, i just didn't like the end. i felt like the final reveal fell... flat? at least, for me. if the story of monique's father was going to be the front and centre of her relationship with evelyn, i would have wanted more... context? on her life, on her parents? i feel like if that was going to be The Story, then why spent all that time on her failing marriage? when the reveal happened, i was like "wait, who is james grant?" 😆. i just wasn't as shocked as i feel i should have been. i feel like this part of the story was unnecessary, didn't really answer anything, and if the gayness of her own father was going to be the question, then this reveal should have occurred maybe mid-book, and given monique more time to react to it/sort it out? idk. i just felt like the evelyn story was so beautiful and intense, it could have stood on its own, without that final reveal.

additionally, i'm a bit annoyed that nothing was said about the way that monique seemed to think moving the body in the car was Perfectly Okay until she found out the dead guy was her father, at which point she freaked? i would have loved for her to have a conversation with evelyn (or at leats it be addressed somehow) about how morally reprehensible actions against people you don't know, often feel a lot more justifiable than morally reprehensible actions against people you do know. this was totally not addressed, and it frankly pissed me off.

so yeah, overall, i really liked the book, but it had its flaws. but i'm curious, what are your thoughts? ❤️

[kookix]

All works belong to me - © all rights reserved to @kookix. Please respect this and do not repost or translate any of my work. Thank you :)

Planning the perfect proposal was a dumb idea.

Or when you ruin his proposal.

Paring - Yoongi x reader

Genre - Extreme fluff

Warnings - Minor swearing

Word count - 1.2k

A/n - Anything underlined you can click on :)

Yoongi never felt the need to flash his relationship in other people's faces. He was quite content with it being his, he didn't need validation or a pat on the back from those who thought he was a quote on quote lucky guy. He just needed you, that being said at that moment you were approximately five thousand miles away from him - no more than a week ago you'd up and left to go visit your parents. And he'd be lying if he said that the video calls and text messages were enough for him. They weren't the same as having you right there with him, curled up in his arms with one of his loose fitted t-shirts hanging off your frame as he stared at you in adoration. It really wasn't the same…

Still, there was no way that he's was going call you and demand you come home - you deserved this alone time with your family. You hadn't seen them in person in nearly a year and there's no way Yoongi was going to take that away from you. He'd just have to wait, for now, he'd just suffer through a couple more yearning video calls and unsatisfying text messages.

One or two days had gone by since Yoongi had last - properly - spoken to you. He had been trying not to count them, especially since the days had been moving agonizingly slowly. Obviously, Yoongi's physical ability to function without you was fine, he didn't need you to breath, or exist per se...But, he did need you for one particular reason.

His proposal.

For months he'd had it all planned, right down to the tiniest detail, everything was perfect. Well...Was being the keyword here - his plan had gone up in flames the moment you had informed him of your surprise visit home. And unlike his plan, yours was a complete impulse, you hadn't even really thought it through before you left. All he knew was that the day you had come home and bought your plane ticket, you had this flare and determination rooted in your gaze. You didn't explain where it had come from and he hadn't asked. He'd just pulled on a tight smile as he listened to you practically burst with warmth as you spoke about seeing your little brother, mum and dad again 'for the first time in forever'.

It was unfortunate really. Even at this time, he was twiddling the engagement ring between his fingers; thinking about how he would propose when you got back. And he's definitely sure he doesn't have enough money to reschedule the non-refundable proposal he originally had planned. So the question was what would he do now?

"Ah, I don't know," he sighed, clearly frustrated. He took one more quick look at the ring placed between his fingers before he set it back in its velvet box. "How do I even find a better way to ask (y/n) to be my 'matrimonial' nap buddy?" he mumbled lowly to himself. "Nothing's going to beat the night in the glass dome," he flops back defeatedly on his sofa, covering his face as he does.

Buzz!

A small pout takes over his face - in contrast to its previous grimace - before he sits back up to glance at his buzzing phone. Oh, it was you, he noted once he picked it up, what perfect timing.

It didn't take more than two rings before you answered, the camera fumbled around in your grasp as - Yoongi could only assume - you were trying to get comfortable in a bean bag chair. "Yoonz, I've missed your face so much." You finally said once you were settled.

"Missed yours too, sweetheart, " he let out, huskily. Showing off one of his gummy smiles, only a little lazier than usual. "How's your visit?"

"It's good...," you hesitated. "Don't get me wrong I'm so happy to see my family and be back here, but…"

”But?"

"I don't know, I'm just not enjoying it as much without you." You confess, letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip. Oh, Yoongi really didn't expect that. "It's just I can't help but keep turning around to tell you something but, then I realise you're not here." You sigh, tucking some hair behind your ear. "I guess, I started to realize that I hate when I can't share things with you, I-I don't want life to be like that Yoongi." You paused. "I want to be able to share all my greatest moments with you, forever...so, Yoongi will-"

Wait- what was the going on here?! Were you proposing...?! Well, possibly you could be about to say something completely different but, the feeling Yoongi was getting in the pit if his stomach was telling him differently. His mind was reeling, more than one thing alerting it at a once. But, he's wasn't sure which one to focus on first; the deep swell in his chest or the fact that you might - potentially - be proposing to him!

"Will you-" Oh God you're stealing his proposal, why is he even surprised. "Marry me...?"

There's a long drawn out pause and Yoongi can see you, practically holding your breath as you wait patiently for him to answer. And he can also see your shoulders drop slightly when he doesn't immediately let out a giant 'yes!'. "Never mind, it's stupid-"

"No, it isn't," he stops you - and he knows if you were with him right now he would clasp your hand with so much loving intent you'd freaking melt. "Yes, I'll marry you, you idiot, I love you.' He beamed softly. " Oh, sweetheart no- don't cry," he tried to soothe you as your lip trembled and your eyes began to water.

Taking a few seconds you blinked excessively in an attempt to stop any tears."I-I'm sorry, I thought you were going to say no," you half-laughed through your teary state.

"I would never," he promised. "Even though you ruined my first proposal and stole my second one," Yoongi smirked, letting a wolfish grin play across his face. "Yep," he continued as your watery eyes started back at him in shock. "I had rented a glass dome for the night, with your favourite fake flowers, because I know you're allergic to the real ones, it was freaking beautiful!. Ah, I had so much planned." He shook his head in mock sorrow.

"Yoongi- I- fuck...I promise I'm going to make it up to you." You say, opening and closing your mouth a few more times. "I- gosh- I can't believe- wow-"

"Being my wife will be enough, " he cut you off. "plus I hadn't come up with a second proposal idea yet so you kind of...did me a favour, " Yoongi chuckled.

The words seemed so nonchalant coming from his mouth but, hearing him call you his wife that certainly hit you differently. "Oh God, I'm booking a flight home right now, I'll see you in 11 hours my husband to be!" You don't even wait for him to say goodbye before you're ending the call.

"See you in 11 hours, sweetheart," he whispers contentedly at the now blank screen of his phone.

A/n - Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed. Even though this was written by a noob. 🤧💜

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

The Remembrance Of A Kiss

I was feeling nostalgic for a fic which I wrote almost three years ago called Zeta-7 and The Kiss; it was written back when I first started writing Rnm fics. While, I don't write how I used to, I am fond of it. So, here's this finished wip. I think I'm running on nostalgia these days, for things are changing faster then I can keep up with. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. It's guaranteed to be fluffy :3

In this fic the reader thinks about a past momentous moment.

_____________________

The trouble and light anxiety you had felt about the occasion had been insignificant compared to his. Back then you had been searching for an answer or rather a solution to a predicament; the problem at the time being that you weren't sure how to broach the subject of a certain display of affection. It was neither a lack or an abundance of affection, and it seems silly now when you thought of it, which was often, but when and where had your inclination to kiss him first begin? It might have always been there, but that statement in itself seemed like a lie, for you didn't want to kiss him when you initially met him, but he had been influential; recognizing you from another time, another life, but that wasn't what you came here to talk about. No, you wanted to think of that fateful day.

That day he had been in his usual delightful mood, the kind that came about because he got to see you and was genuinely having a good day; although, with him, he tended to find good in every day and as expected he was deliciously cheerful and had a smile which could last for days upon his thin lips. Oh, how you had loved that smile for it followed you everywhere, even when you couldn't seem him; that haircut which had been copied from an old clothing catalog advertisement and moved about when he spoke; buck teeth which dentists could only dream to keep as trophies, and the hint of lip bite when he'd finished talking; it was part of the draw. You fought, swallowed, and bided your time as you thought of the ways in which you could show him you loved him. For you, there was a momentum, a force which couldn't have been stopped; beginning with his hellos, and would build as you continued to be so affected and had been desperate to satisfy the longing and affection which pulled and drowned your senses whenever he was near; it made you reason that it was the right thing to do; to express and ask if it was alright to move forward; it was and he agreed, but he never quite recovered from being kissed. 

No, you didn't mean all the kisses which occurred after and had taken place up to the present per se, but from the first one you had given him around the start of your relationship; having made such an impression, it was as though you had branded his heart and soul; that a string was tied to one of your ribs and to one of his ventricles which kept him alive only by his sheer will to withstand the forces and madness that threatened to tear him apart daily; he could never recover. You would say that he grew a little more mature that day; in mind, spirit, but not in age. To be sure, things had been so different then; Rick had been so shy when it came to romantic sensibilities, naive to others advances or otherwise natural attraction to him, believing he was unworthy of such while you had so much to learn about the mysteries of men; neither knew what the other had been going through. You hadn't known about his otherworldly adventures yet, his loneliness, or uniqueness, and he knew almost everything except your personality quirks, but as to how he knew was a different story.

Still, that was then, back when there was so much yet to be known, and you thought him to be human. You remembered how for days, he walked as though in a daze, bumping into things and hardly able to look you in the eyes without being lovestruck and tongue-tied; you were sure to watch after him to make sure you hadn't given him a stroke and assured him that he shouldn't deny his worth. Why it seemed even now he could barely function without being a little goofy after a kiss, but it was endearing; you hadn't known then about how he had been starved for affection due to lack of family and circumstances. Yet, if you had any doubts, they certainly were lessened by his attentiveness and wanting to please.

You were sure others might've tired of this behavior long ago, and you had your days in when you thought you weren't capable of managing it all, but for every time you came crashing down, he was there to help you even when you didn't want him to; for every tear and moment of grief, there was his affection which he returns out of love, gratitude, and fear all at once. Oh, if you knew then what you knew now, you would've confessed earlier; let him know how much you had cared, and tried harder to be a better friend. Still, you were making it up to him and doubted you'd ever finish making it up to him. And because he was forever grateful and happy when you kissed him, you decided to ask him one day what it was that he found so dazzling about it and to your shock, his answer endeared him to you all the more. "It's like saying h-hello." he answered matter of factly.

"Really? In what way?" 

"Gosh," he wondered, scratching the back of his neck. "it's uh - it's like touching hands, but instead of the formality of a-a handshake, you touch lips to greet and exchange not only DNA but affection. Culture or whoever happens to partake in this ritual may affect its meaning, but in such an awe-inspiring way I believe it's a reminder of trust and union; albeit more intimate."

Was that how he had felt back then? Had it been a social experiment or a daydream that had come into fruition? Perhaps neither. Maybe, he was concerned that you'd be disappointed if that so-called spark wasn't there, but the good thing was you relied more on just sparks. "So, what you mean to say is that in a sense those who kiss are bonded?"

"I th-think so."

And you believed him, for when it came to such matters, he was sincere. Why it must've hit him harder than it ever will with you, but you blamed being a creature of natural circumstance for that; your childhood and life had been happy and general for the most part, while his had more loops in it then the Whirly Dirly. Thinking of it now, the consequence of your affection was that he took to you so strongly, you were sure that if something happened to you, it might kill him; the thought being burdensome in its own right.

You had never thought of pairing the word passionate with him, but his sensibilities to and of the world in which he existed in as well as to interactions with the beings in it made you wonder if there was anything or anyone he could truly hate; himself perhaps for that was who he was most affected by. 

"Rick," you started, pushing away the unsettling thoughts as you set down the book you had been reading. "I think that's sweet. You certainly have a knack for seeing the poetic nature behind the reality, but what are your thoughts on the people who kiss for fun?"

He ruminated for a moment. It might've occurred to him that people didn't always kiss with the intention of forming serious relationships, but he would be sure to make a note of finding out later. "Gosh, I'm sure there are some benefits t-t-to it, though I haven't done much research on the matter."

Who knew where one would begin on such a subject. There were books on both physiology and psychology, but did any of them go into the happenstance of a kiss? You hadn't thought of checking, but knowing the intelligent man that he was, perhaps he had looked into it. "Research huh? Dear," you explained, "people don't just research kisses as though they are studies or hypothesized."

"Th-they don't?"

"At least not that I know of. I mean, people simply see and do. Don't they? Is there more?"

"Y-yes and no. It depends on the species."

"Hmm, I guess it does."

Again, you wouldn't know. There must've been planets, realities, and universes whose signs of affection transcended that of action, but while it was a fascinating thought, you were glad that in your reality that wasn't the case in its entirety. Searching his face, you found that his brow was scrunched up together, wondering if there was more to it. You had thought the question innocent enough, he, on the other hand, wouldn't be satisfied until he found the truth behind your inquiry. Not being one to try to disappoint him, you turned towards him and nodded. "However, I have my own answer. If you come closer I can show you what I mean."

Removing his glasses, he scooted closer; curious to see if the answer was somehow in your pocket or hiding on his face. The trust which allowed him to focus on you with conviction as you approached him was palpable. Lightly, you brushed back his bangs and passed your fingers lightly over his frown lines. Silly man, he thought too much for his own good, but if he had been unsure earlier, then the blush which dusted his ears and cheeks said otherwise. Stretching up, you pressed a light kiss on his forehead; not unlike the ones he'd give you when he thought you were asleep. And you smiled at him from the bottom of your heart. In turn, he chuckled in happy amusement; boyish in the way his eyes glimmered as though he had gotten a new toy. "Gee, that was - that was swell, but I-I don't understand. Wh-what was that for?"

"I see you and I must kiss you. It's practically the law." you giggled before repeating the action.

"Are y-y-you sure?" he wondered, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. 

Pulling back a little, you nodded. "I'm positive. Especially since it's what you deserve."

The light chuckle which escaped him only fed your joy as you peppered him with kisses. And before you could see it, you felt him smiling and glowing with happiness as his goofy grin returned with a vengeance. 

"Gosh," he sighed with contentment, "I-I learn something new everyday."

"I bet you do, but really a kiss is nothing to think too hard about."

"I-I know."

"If anything, I think it's based on a feeling. For example," you paused to give yourself a moment to gather your thoughts together. "the reason I kiss you is the same reason I've always had and it's because I care about you. In my own way, it's like I'm saying, 'Hello, I missed you, come here, I love you. Oh, I love you so very much. Thank you, for simply existing and being here with me.' Maybe we both have the same reason as to why words sometimes aren't enough, and while a kiss is simple, it's not always so easy to execute, but nothing is wrong with that. It's all done in its own time. In its own way. I am happy you let me kiss you way back when, because I adored you so much that it hurt. I still adore you, and you'll always be precious to me."

Glancing at you in wonderment, he played with his fingers then searched your face again. In his soul, he knew you weren't lying, but since you've first known him, he always seemed to be searching, as well as fighting his self-condemning mind and heart especially having been injured so many times. As though you had a world of answers for some of his simple questions that he would've otherwise been too embarrassed to ask, he'd open his mouth just to close it again. You had assured him on multiple occasions that he could ask you anything, but his bashful nature gave allowances for this; endearing in its own right. Once he seemed satisfied, he took out his notepad and wrote down some notes; if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was writing a thesis by the way the words slanted and blended into one another as he concentrated on the details, all the while sporting that lovestruck grin. "What are you writing dear? Is it a love letter? Is it about the trees, or bees, or whatever goes about in that wonderful head of yours?"

"I'm updating my notes."

This much you knew. "But on what? Not on kissing, right? That would be something." you teased.

"N-n-no," he answered softly, "but on you."

"Is that right? Is there any particular reason?" 

"Mhm," he nodded. "so I won't forget."

What a silly man he was, you thought. "It's ok to forget things, but I'm sure you won't. Besides, who forgets the first person they kiss?"

"N-not me."

"Of course not, especially with all the reminders that come after. I doubt I will, but reminders are appreciated. I wouldn't want to forget how happy you make me."

Slowing down his note-taking, he mentioned. "I like reminders too."

Of course he did. From years of journal keeping to the multiple watches and small computers that were scattered about the house, for there was so much going on in his head he needed help keeping his train of thought straight. It was just another way of saying in so many words, how much he loved you. "So do I. And trust me, I'll be sure to remind you a lot. As much as you need, and as often as I can. Hopefully," you winked at him. "I'll be reminded soon."

Giving your hand a squeeze, he softened. "I um - I don't mind reminding you. I-I really like reminders."

"I know, but do you like them more than adventures, or as far as that ship in the garage will take you?" you teased.

Replacing the notepad in his pocket, he nodded. "As far as 238,855 miles w-will take me."

Miles or kilometers were but measurements and distance, but that distance you were sure was not on Earth. "Do you mean to the moon?"

Pressing a light kiss to your temple, he answered. "Por supuesto, y-y más allá de eso. Please, don't forget"

Forget? Why would you forget? If there was a prelude, it was the flutter and happy giddiness which occurred when you caught him off guard, but to whatever came after, it was effervescent, sweet, and addictive. And while it could be said about a lot of things, he was far more complex. You see, you never recovered from being kissed, because you were enticed by his charm, and won by his goodness, but a kiss sealed the deal; for now and forever you belonged to him and you weren't going to let him forget it. Cupping his cheek, you replied. "I won't and I never will Ricky. You can bet on that," as you leaned forward, you whispered. "and seal it with a kiss."

Fin

[callmeakumatized]

My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend - Ch 10

[[ SURPRISE!!! Another Chapter! :D ]]

Ao3 ff.net previous chapter

Marinette had never responded to Adrien's message from Friday night, and she didn't try to call him, despite her threat to do so. Adrien both liked and disliked this development. While he hated not hearing about how she was feeling – because, really, he loved her, dang it – he desperately needed the time to quell his own feelings and decide what to do from here. Because he knew he needed to make the next move. He just didn't know if he was brave enough to do it, especially without the loving support he had come to rely on so heavily from Ladybug – Marinette…Maribug?

So he ignored Nino's small-talk texts. And Alya's Ladyblog update messages. Instead, he focused on what he could do for his Lady.

So far? He had a big dollop of Nuttin' atop a sundae of Diddly-Squat.

What could he say that he hadn't already said? 'Purr-pose' instead of 'Porpoise'?

(Yeah, he didn't think so either.)

Needless to say, the main sounds he heard throughout his weekend were cheese-eating (normal), Ladyblog update blips (normal), and a lot – a lot – of (maybe melodramatic, to a degree) sighing (not as normal).

When Monday came around, Adrien seriously considered telling Nathalie he was sick. Or running away. Or joining the circus. Anything to be anywhere but there was a viable option in his arsenal of excuses at this point. The Saturday evening Akuma was still fresh on his mind, and it had been especially nasty. It wasn't hard, per se, but Ladybug, while playing up a scary version of "Nothing's wrong why would anything be wrong!?" had taken turns roughly vaulting him toward the danger (grinning wickedly while she did so) and getting ridiculously close to him in very intimate ways (trying to maintain appearances, maybe, but running her fingers through his hair while there were explosions was toying with his brain and totally on purr-pose, don't try to tell him otherwise).

And he was pretty sure the "mistake" where they went for a fist bump and she broke his nose was totally not the accident she had pretended it was. Especially because she had insisted on the fist bump before the Miraculous cure, which would, admittedly, fix it, but not completely. Which she, of course, knew.

Even thinking about it now, Adrien could feel the bruising.

The unexpected sloppy kiss she had planted on him and the desperate look in her eyes afterward did nothing – N-O-T-H-I-N-G – to help his hurting heart. Or his reeling emotions.

So when Adrien pulled up to the school, he already had expectations of what he would see, what he would find. A girl crushed under the weight of a broken heart? Maybe. A woman angry over her lover's quarrel? More likely. What Adrien expected to see when he walked into the school building was, perhaps, based on his own feelings. He felt down, and he felt confused, and he felt anxious, so maybe he assumed Marinette would feel the same way too.

He was SO. WRONG.

What he saw was Ladybug in fleshy form. A girl with a planned plan planned to planny precision. It was disgusting. And Adrien had to pick his school stuff and his jaw off the floor when he first saw her.

She looked gorgeous. Just enough make-up to keep it subtle. Just enough hairs coming loose from her up-do to keep it casual. Sneaker heels and a cute skirt instead of flats and pants. The girl was siphoning the oxygen straight out of his lungs, using it to fuel her full laughs and playful jabs at her classmates.

He first spotted her in the locker room where she was putting on red lipstick in the mirror of her locker, giggling with Alya, Rose, and Alix about something. As he gazed at the back of her head, he could have sworn she saw him reflected there. He definitely saw the flash of hard blue eyes before she leaned over, grabbing Alya's head and planting a puckering kiss onto her best friend's cheek. The girls all giggled, and she turned right to him and winked. Adrien gulped in response, reaching down to pick up the books he had dropped. He rubbed his still-sore nose self-consciously.

When he looked back up, Nino had joined Alya, and Marinette had put on his headphones to listen in on the music he were talking about.

The girls walked by a few minutes later, passing a statue-like Adrien who had frozen when Marinette had shown him how adorable she looked with red lipstick and headphones.

He was captivated by visions of dark lashes and red lips.

He was jealous of Alya's kissed cheek.

He was jealous of Nino, Alix, and Rose's close proximity.

He was terrified of Marinette.

As the girl walked up to him, Adrien tried to tighten his grip on his bag and his books, trying to not repeat the action for a third time that morning, but to no avail. They clattered everywhere, only accentuated by his efforts to keep himself upright. The familiar warmth of embarrassment manifested itself in his cheeks, neck, and ears, and Adrien concentrated heavily on picking up his stuff and not looking up. Until Marinette's shoes paused in front of him.

When he had finished with his books, a hand shot out in front of his face. Adrien still didn't raise his eyes, but he was not one to turn away a hand offered to him…especially when this was the girl of your dreams (and maybe his nightmares the night before, but he didn't want to think about that). Marinette's grip was strong, and she pulled him up with ease. Then she paused for a moment before lifting up on of his hands and kissing his palm. Adrien might have made a whimpering sound at this.

Marinette only smiled, their eyes finally meeting…and then purposefully flicking him on the nose before sauntering off.

"Do you deserve it?"

"Huh?" Adrien's reply was about an octave higher than normal. He was too busy rubbing his throbbing nose and blinking the sudden tears of pain from his eyes.

Adrien's blurry vision finally started to focus. His best friend stood there looking at him, lips pursed but eyes twinkling.

"Do you deserve it?" the DJ repeated, slower this time.

Nino's voice was usually a welcomed anchor to this sea of chaos that was his life (though it was slowly turning into a hurricane of madness, a sharknado, a flippin' Bermuda triangle centered around him). The question, however, was not welcomed.

"Uh…" Adrien easily understood the meaning of the simple question. He just didn't know where to start.

"Just answer me, bro."

"Yes…?"

"That's the first step. How you gonna fix it?"

"I – what? How do you even know – ?"

Nino closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head and placing a hand on Adrien's shoulder.

"Dude, you are just lucky that it was me you sent that message to and not her."

…Wut.

"The girl is shooting daggers at you already. Have you talked to her since Friday at all?"

Talked with? Nah, not really. Fought with? Yeah, absolutely. And in more ways than one.

"No? What message?"

"You seriously thought that that girl – that girl – would cheat on you?"

Oh. That message. How had he…? Nevermind. Whatever. WHAT. EVER.

"Nino…I…I don't know how to explain. But, yes?"

"You know that that girl has been in love with you since you started public school, right?"

"WHAT?"

"The girl has your schedule memorized." Nino chuckled for a second before sobering instantly. "Do not tell her I told you that. Cause honestly, I do not want that," – he motioned toward the direction Marinette had gone – "after me. And you better figure this out soon. Mari is seriously ticked."

"I…but…"

Nino only shook his head and walked away, a salute and a smile his only departing graces.

Adrien blinked stupidly at nothing. Then he lost control of his books again. He couldn't help but see it as an awful metaphor for what his life was: a mess.

qpqpqpqpqp

Adrien could handle the cutesy gushing over hat designs with Myléne and the discussion of the new Jagged Stone/Zombie Skullcrushers duet with Ivan. Heck, he could even deal with hearing Marinette gush about LadyNoir with Alya, the conversation so close it was almost in his flippin' ear. But this? Ah nah. He drew the line at the "gun show" she started participating in with Kim and Alix during their lunch hour. Particularly when Kim started feeling her gorgeous, glittery (how is that possible?) muscles.

Not to sound like he was a masochist, or that he owned Maribug or anything attached to her, but…those muscles were his.

Without warning, Adrien unceremoniously grabbed Marinette by the arm and dragged her away from the group of classmates, giving Kim the stink eye. They only made it a couple tables away before Marinette slipped her arm out from his grasp.

"Excuse you!" she shot out, placing a hand on her hip and popping it out in such an adorablewayshewasgoingtokillhim.

"Excuse me?" Adrien shot back, matching her quiet tone. "Excuse you! Letting him feel you up like that…"

"He was not feeling me up!"

"He might as well have been."

She snorted.

Adrien walked a step away, grabbing at his hair before going back to her and pointing a finger just passed her face. "Stop flirting with everyone! It's – It's killing me, Marinette! If you're going to touch anyone, or kiss anyone, or for goodness' sake share headphones with anyone, it should be with me!"

Marinette stared blankly at him for a moment. "Huh. You'd think I would have seen this coming or something. I mean, you do tend to get jealous over the silliest things…like yourself."

Adrien sat on the nearest table, covering his face with his hands and groaning loudly. This day didn't turn out how he imagined; it was worse. Removing one hand from his face he reached out and caught hold of an escaping Marinette, pulling her to him again, but more gently. She came willingly and he pulled her into some semblance of an embrace. Mostly so he could continue the conversation through whispers in her ear. Mostly.

"I thought you didn't know, Mari."

"And I thought you did know."

This was something he had sorta figured out, but it still left questions.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Uh, er…well, you see…" Marinette pulled away a bit and Adrien saw the crack in her confident façade for the first time that day. It almost gave him confidence. But, since he didn't know why she was hesitating to answer, courage quickly dissolved into nervousness.

"You asked me out!" she finally whisper-yelled at him.

"You said 'yes'! Why – Why would you say 'yes' to that!?"

Marinette flushed before suddenly grabbing both sides of his face. "You just…you have that – that face! You shouldn't just walk around with th-that face and expect unsuspecting females to be able to answer, uh, logically!"

Adrien couldn't help it. He knew he was in deep trouble, but…he snickered. Marinette immediately let go of him and flicked his nose again. With a cry, his hands grabbed her wrists to block off anymore attacks. She struggled against him, gritting her teeth.

"And you came to my house, and you called me MY NICKNAME!" Her voice was getting louder. "Or do you go to everyone's house and call them 'M'Lady' and say 'See you tomorrow' and KISS THEIR HAND!?"

Adrien froze. When had he…?

Oh. Oh gosh.

He…he had done that, hadn't he?

"Well, I-I-I, I mean, you're not wrong…" his voice drifted with his gaze as he thought back to that time with Marinette, poking around her room and flirting – teasing – her. Marinette stopped struggling, the lack of movement bringing Adrien's eyes back to his partner's. He was shocked to see them a little watery, and when she spoke, her voice was very small.

"You do do that to everyone?"

"WHAT? No! NO, Marinette, that's not –"

"I thought that that was just for me…"

"It IS! What I meant was that you're right, I did do that, but I don't do that to anyone else! I've never done that to anyone else!"

"Just to me? And well…me?"

There was a mixture of skepticism with hopefulness in her eyes. It was a fear for both of them: Marinette fearing Adrien's disloyalty, and Adrien facing the fear of letting her down. Again.

"Yes," Adrien said firmly, letting go of her wrists finally and placing them tentatively on either side of her face. "And I just, I didn't mean to those times with you-you either, it must have j-just slipped out, I-I mean, I didn't…" His face felt warm. Why…why had he done that? It had flowed so easily. Had he…but no, he couldn't have…?

He had had a crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

And Marinette seemed to have simultaneously reached this same conclusion.

"Oh my gosh, you filthy hypocrite!" she spat at him, pushing his hands away. "You were hitting on me!"

"WHAT! I was not – not – hitting on you!"

He was totally hitting on her.

"Oh, 'Princess'," Marinette pulled away before adorning what he assumed was supposed to be a fake Chat Noir voice and a fake Chat Noir walk, twirling around and fluttering her lashes at him (even in pretend, Chat Noir still had swag). "Oh, it's raining! Please, please let me in! EVEN THOUGH I LIVE A BLOCK AWAY."

"I wasn't hitting on you! I was flirting, and that is not the same!"

HE WAS TOTALLY HITTING ON HER.

"You had a crush on me! ADMIT IT!"

"Says the girl who has more posters on her wall of me than La Mode magazine!"

Several gasps sounded throughout the cafeteria. One of them was Marinette's. One of them was also Adrien's.

That was a low blow, and they all knew it, even those in the unwitting audience.

The next thing Adrien knew, he was sprawled across one of the long lunch tables, Marinette shoving a thick slab of pudding into his face.

All he could do for a moment was blink stupidly at the ceiling. That is, until he heard the "Oooo's" coming from the kids around them. When he sat up, he saw a smug, red, and angry Marinette. But he was done playing around.

Adrien made a show of licking off what he could before looking around and making a grab for whatever was around him – mashed potatoes, perfect – and flicking it into her own face.

Or, he would have.

But she was Ladybug. The blithe girl deftly dodged the potato slop easily. Instead, the wad of starchy goodness landed in a young girl's hair. The young lady yelped at the surprising impact.

A stillness broke over the cafeteria…until a voice that sounded suspicious like Alya's yelled, "FOOD FIGHT!"

"DETENTION!" a stronger voice rang out, bringing the lunch room into another quiet lull. Adrien and Marinette's gazes snapped to each other. Both their hands had more globs of food in them, aimed toward each other. Audible gulps sounded. They then looked to the person whose heels now clicked against the tiled floor in a heavy rhythm.

Ah. It looks like Principal Damocles decided to join them all for lunch today.

Great.