#i’ve had so much time but i procrastinated and lost track of time & i just feel like shit about it

[rosesradio]

.

[toiletclown]

numb, but i still feel it. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

spencer agnew x f!reader

angst/miscommuncation with a happy ending :3

summary: when your feelings start to be too much, you pull back. but is the pain of being away from spencer any better than the pain of telling him how you feel?

word count: 5.5k

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Hey, Y/N, did you want to get food after work? I’ve been craving a triple dipper from Chili’s,” Spencer asked his best friend. 

“Oh, sorry, Spen. I have plans tonight. Maybe some time next week?” She replied, face stoic. She started messing around on her phone, and the space between them grew just a bit wider. Spencer had to force himself not to focus on it.

“Oh. Sure, no problem.” He walked back to his pod, dejected.

That was how it started. She stopped seeing him as much outside of work, then suddenly wasn’t scheduled for games shoots for a week or two. And when she was on a games shoot, their usual bouncy, spitfire interactions just weren’t the same. They had been on a livestream together earlier in the week, with Shayne and Amanda. He didn’t check the chat or comments on that one. Spencer already knew what they said.

Week after week, texts went unanswered, or answered days later. She wasn’t present around the office. Spencer was hurting, but he didn’t know who he could talk to about it. For two months now, their dynamic had become entirely different. And he didn’t know what the fuck he did. If he even did do anything.

He was tired of being tossed to the side, feeling discarded. Y/N had been his best friend for more than five years now, and he hadn’t seen her outside of work in months. He knew he had to talk to someone about it.

After some internal struggle, Spencer decided Courtney was his best bet. Angela was closer with Y/N, but Angela would also be biased. Not that he could blame her, he was biased in Y/N’s favor more often than not, too. It was hard not to be. She was magnetic, her energy addicting. He missed her. Courtney would be more pragmatic, and give some better advice. No shade to Ang, she was a great friend, but he couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t say something to Y/N that would derail their friendship further, unfortunately.

Once Y/N had left for the day, Spencer creeped around the office, trying to catch Court before they left.

“Court! Can I steal you for a second?” He yelled, running after Courtney. They were clearly on their way out, and he needed to talk to them today. She turned around, seemingly surprised to see Spencer. 

“Oh! Hey, Spence. Yeah, can I meet you in your pod in like five minutes?” They were fiddling with their necklace, a nervous habit, and Spencer pretended not to notice. He nodded and made his way to the kitchen to grab a Kickstart. Y/N had already left for the day, and Spencer knew he wouldn’t be able to talk to Courtney if she were still in the building. She’d sense it somehow and find him spilling the metaphorical beans and ruin whatever chance he had at salvaging this.

After standing around in the kitchen for a moment, slightly procrastinating the conversation, he went back to his pod to find Courtney already there. “Oh, hey, I must’ve lost track of time, my bad.”

Courtney stood and walked over to Spencer, putting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Spence, I love you, but if you’re going to ask me anything related to Y/N, I would really prefer not to get in the middle.”

Spencer deflated, confused. “Uh, can I ask what you mean by that?” His eyes shifted around, ensuring no one was in the hallway or near the door. He didn’t want whatever was happening to be overheard.

“Well, I know you two are, like, going through it right now, I guess. I don’t want to get involved… I don’t want to… take sides or whatever.”

Now he was even more confused. “I wasn’t aware that we were going through it… or that sides were needed?”

Courtney led Spencer to sit down so they could be a little more clear. They didn’t want to hurt Spencer’s feelings, but she might have to be a little mean if it meant getting her point across.

“Spencer. We’ve all noticed something going on with you two. If you two are going to break up we just want it to be amicable, we all love you both so much that–”

“Break up?” Spencer cut them off, his confusion surpassing a new level. “What the fuck do you mean, break up?”

“Well, we don’t want you to! But if that’s where it’s heading–”

“Courtney! Me and Y/N aren’t even dating?” Spencer’s face flushed without his consent.

“But you told us all months ago that you wanted to ask her out… and then you both were so different after a week or two that we all kind of thought you were just toning it down to be, you know, professional.” Courtney looked embarrassed, but so did Spencer.

“Oh, my god.” Spencer was horrified. “No, we are not dating, I still haven’t asked her out or, or even told her how I feel.”

“Well, I guess I can tell Shayne to stop worrying now. He thought you were, like, keeping the relationship and hot goss from him. You know how much he loves love.” Courtney smiled fondly.

Spencer felt extremely nauseous. “No, of course I would be telling him everything. But there’s nothing to tell. And I wanted to talk to you because I’m starting to get worried that there never will be anything to tell. She’s pulled back a lot and I don’t know what I did wrong or what happened. I was hoping you’d be able to give me some insight.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm brewing in his head and his stomach. “It’s like, everything was fine. And then randomly, out of nowhere, it wasn’t. But as far as I can remember, we didn’t have a fight. I can’t think of anything I could have done to upset her like this, and I’m willing to apologize for whatever it is but…” He let out a sigh, “It’s like she’s a different person now. She won’t text me back, or she’ll respond days and days later with some shitty excuse. She’s not on that many games shoots anymore and when she is, she doesn’t seem to want to interact with me. I just want to fix this. My feelings for her aside, I miss my best friend, dude.”

Courtney wrapped Spencer in a hug, knowing that physical touch in moments like this always helped. Something she had actually learned from Y/N. After a soft pat on the back, they pulled apart. “Honey, I’m so sorry. We all misread the situation. I hope you don’t think we were uncaring, or that we didn’t want to help. We all knew something was up, honestly, you both wear your hearts on your sleeves. But we thought that it was more of a personal, relationship issue than… this. I’m so sorry, babe. Tell ya what, me, Ang, and Amanda will have a bestie’s night with her and see what we can figure out. Sound good?” 

Spencer nodded, wiping a small tear that threatened to escape his eye. 

“I can’t promise I’ll be the best double agent, depending on what I find out. But I’ll see what I can do. I know you love her, Spencer. We’ll get this sorted, okay?” Courtney gave Spencer a little pat on the head, and he left the conversation feeling a bit better. 

//

“Y/NNNNNNNN!” Angela called down the hall, searching for her friend. “Yo, Shayne. Have you seen Y/N?” 

Shayne shrugged his shoulders, “Haven’t seen her all day. Did she call off?”

“You’re no help!” She replied, letting him walk away.

Alex Tran then turned the corner into the little lunch area, and Angela decided to accost them next. “Alex! Where’s Y/N?”

“Uh, I don’t know? I thought she called out today.” 

“What the fuck.” Angela took her phone out, immediately texting her.

yo where tf are u??? did u call out alex said u called out??

Angela then took a seat, a little out of breath from running around the Smoffice looking for her bestie. Luckily her phone vibrated nearly immediately.

yea sorry i got a lil stomach bug :/ hoping it’s a 24 hr thing bc i feel like ASS!!

“Okay she has a stomach bug everyone! Calm down!” Angela yelled, as though the lunch room was, a) populated and b) interested. She was interested.

stomach bug, eh? what’d you eat? spencer’s ass?

ANGELA???

what i’m curious sue me

i did not eat spencer’s ass. i had some leftover chinese food that might have been a little too left over. iykwim. be nice to me it’s coming out both ends!!

ok that’s tmi i fear

you just asked me if i ate my best friend’s ass

i asked if u ate spencer’s ass not mine <3

i fear after this convo u have been demoted to second best friend sorry queen </3

i’ll be over with some meds n soup after this shoot. u will forgive me then.

maybe.

After Angela finished her conversation with Y/N, she hopped over to the games set to do a quick livestream. It was slated to be an hour, but she silently hoped it ended a little earlier. After Courtney told her and Amanda that something weird was going on between Y/N and Spencer, she knew she had to sneak attack before the real attack. They had scheduled a bestie’s night out on Friday, and it was Wednesday. All three of them accosting Y/N at once wasn’t ideal, and she knew Y/N would clam up if she wasn’t eased into it, so she told Courtney and Amanda she would try and get some intel one-on-one first.

As Angela walked onto set, Alex informed her that he was swapping out for her in the stream, so she could head out whenever she wanted. They had winked when they told her this, so Ang could only assume this was a joint effort that he was in on. Good to hear.

She made her rounds to say goodbye and make sure she didn’t have any other tasks to finish that day, and confirmed with Ian and Anthony that she could head out. Once she was all good to go, Angela texted Y/N to let her know she was picking up food and then would be on her way.

//

You were laying in bed, curled up under the covers trying to come up with an excuse. Why did you have to say it was a stomach bug? You should be able to be open and honest with your friends. After a nice deep sigh, you got up and put on some sweats and a t-shirt, knowing Angela would arrive in mere minutes.

You grabbed a Red Bull from your fridge, needing a kick of energy. You should text Spencer. He had messaged you about an hour before, just to say he hopes you feel better. Damn your lie. You opened the text thread with him, looking at your frankly embarrassing lack of responses or late replies. He deserved better than that. That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? He deserved a better friend. And a fantastic partner. And you knew that he didn’t want that, despite how badly you did.

The feelings you had been harboring for Spencer were getting to a point you couldn’t deny them anymore. You’d been pushing them down since that very first day, and your heart was hurting. A lot.

– Five years ago –

You walked into the office, head held high despite your anxiety. You wanted to make a good impression, and you weren’t letting your brain get in the way of that. You couldn’t. Greeted by a man a few inches taller than you, though not by much, you felt oddly at peace right away. He had glasses and little tattoos decorating his forearms, and his curly brown hair was wisping to and fro under a hat with the Smosh logo across it. 

“Hey, are you Y/N?” He asked, and you nodded silently, finding yourself at a loss for words. “I’m Spencer. I’ll be sitting in on your interview. I help out on the games channel and edit here and there.” His smile was bright, and you felt yourself returning it.

“Oh, cool. Uh, I think I’m supposed to be meeting with Ian?” You said, despite him clearly already knowing this information.

He smiled again, and your stomach fluttered without your permission. The calm feeling that came over you was certainly reassuring, but if your body kept reacting to this random man like this, you were expecting a few problems in your future.

“Yeah, we’re meeting right down the hall here. I’ll take you over but then I’m going to run to the kitchen to grab a Kickstart. Ian should already be in there anyway, and he’s definitely going to appreciate your timeliness.” Spencer glanced at the watch on his wrist, seeming to mentally note that you were around five minutes early. Truthfully, you had arrived twenty minutes before your actual interview, but you didn’t want to be that early. After sitting in your car and listening to some music to relax, you had made your way in with eight minutes to spare. You got a little caught up at the door and the very kind and conversational woman at the desk, but still managed to be early.

You nodded again, and followed Spencer down the hall to a meeting room that was spacious but cozy. The man sitting at the head of the table – Ian, you assumed – smiled and stood as you entered.

“Hey, Spencer.” He walked to meet you both at the entrance, and he held his hand out to shake. “And you must be Y/N! I’m Ian Hecox, we spoke over email.” 

You shook his hand, introducing yourself and thanking him for the opportunity. 

Spencer told Ian he’d be right back, and you and Ian grabbed seats at the table. “I see you’ve met Spencer! He works on the games channel, but he’s lined up for a promotion to director of games so I asked him to sit in on the interview just so he’d be comfortable when he actually had to start interviewing people himself.”

“He’s very nice! He made me feel welcome right away.” You were lightly fidgeting under the table, anxiety coming back now that Spencer had left. 

You and Ian got to talking about your past experiences – improv with Groundlings, two one-woman plays at Dynasty Typewriter, and some script work here and there at small entertainment companies. You had applied for cast but told Ian you’d be fine behind the scenes as well, hoping to have a shot at one or the other and emphasizing your willingness to wear multiple hats.

Soon, Spencer returned and shut the door behind him, sitting across from you at the table with Kickstart in hand.

After the interview, Ian had called you personally a mere hour afterwards to tell you he was impressed with your resume and interview and wanted to bring you on. You’d start doing some script work, and then would transition to cast full-time if you liked it. You were ecstatic, but couldn’t help but be even more excited at the concept of getting to know Spencer better.

Unfortunately, by the end of the interview you could already tell you were developing a work crush on Spencer. You’d had them before, and you’d kept yourself in check. You could do it again, right?

Five years later, you weren’t so sure.

//

You were pulled out of your reverie by your Ring doorbell going off. You knew it was Angela because she also knocked afterwards, the same catchy little knock she always did. You took another sip of your Red Bull and ventured to your door, pulling it open and giving Ang a hug.

“Well, you don’t look all that shitty, considering you’re apparently shitting your brains out and puking them up as well. Spill, bitch,” was her only form greeting as she came into your apartment and sat the little soup containers on the counter. She turned around and glared at you, but there was no real venom in it. Angela could see through you like nobody else, even Spencer. He understood you in a way that was different, for sure, but you could never lie or even lightly fib to Ang without her immediately calling you on it.

Another sigh escaped you, and you sat on your couch to get into it. “Where should I start? Actually, tell me your hypothesis and I’ll go from there.”

Angela scooted up close to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You were big on physical touch, and she somehow always knew what you needed. “You’re in love with Spencer and having trouble coming to terms with it because you think he doesn’t return your feelings so you’ve been silently freaking out for probably two months because you hate talking about your feelings even though I’m your best friend and know exactly what you’re feeling at all times even when you try to hide it from me.”

“You didn’t take a breath for that whole sentence, you know,” was your only response.

She poked your thigh, “Don’t deflect.”

You rolled your eyes, affectionate in every way, because you couldn’t be mad when she was fucking right. Because of course she was. “Is it deflection if you already know you’re correct, you demon? Yes, you’re spot the fuck on, as always. Jesus.” You laid your head on the back of the couch, trying to remain calm. “I don’t know what the fuck to do. I can’t hide this shit anymore, and it’s getting to a point where it’s interfering with my work, clearly. I know he doesn’t feel the same – I can’t even give myself hope that he does because, like, I feel like he would have told me at this point, you know? We’re always honest with each other, occasionally too honest, and I find it hard to believe he’d be able to keep that from me. He’s an open book, and I can read him like you can read me. I don’t know. I’ve been feeling lost about it, I guess.”

Angela let you get your feelings out, awkward pauses and teary eyes given grace because she’s always good to you. But then she laughed. A deep, rumbling laugh from the depths of her soul. Which hurt a little bit.

“Why the fuck are you laughing at me? I’m emotional, be nice, you freak!” You laughed beside yourself, because even though it did hurt a little bit, you know her intentions were golden.

“Y/N, you idiot. Walk me through your thought process here. Why do you think he doesn’t return your feelings, seriously. I want an explanation.”

“Like I said! He hasn’t said anything! I’ve just been pushing him away because that’s easier than being near him, Angela, it hurts to be next to him knowing I can never kiss him or tell him what I’m really feeling. I want to do everything with him. I want to carpool to work with him, I want to go to dinner with him and cook food for him, I want to go on Kickstart runs with him and try to understand why the fuck he drinks that shit when Red Bull exists. I want to understand him, inside and out. I want him, in every sense. And if he wanted all that too, he would have told me by now!” You were tired of keeping everything inside, and you knew Angela wouldn’t sugarcoat anything or lead you astray. 

Ang grabbed your hands, rubbing her thumbs against the backs of them – your favorite form of physical comfort from her. “Babe, I’m quite literally going to hold your hand when I tell you this. You’re way too in your head about this. Step back, take a deep breath, and try to see his perspective. You haven’t told him anything either, and now you’re ignoring him and doing your best to not be anywhere near him. How is he supposed to interpret that? How could he be honest with you about his feelings when you won’t even text the poor man back? What if he was gearing himself up for it, finally ready to be open, and then you pull back so far he doesn’t feel like it’s a good idea to tell you?”

After a few deep breaths on your part, and a nice inhale on Angela’s, you started calming down. “Well, yeah, I guess. But what makes you think he returns my feelings? What gave you that inclination?”

“I’ve been in an office with you five days a week for two years. And my eyes work. With or without my glasses. Y/N, I’m not trying to push you or stress you out, and I’m also not trying to tell you how Spencer feels. Only he knows what he’s feeling, but I know what I see. The way he looks at you, the way his smile fades just the slightest bit when you leave the room, the way he tailors his jokes to make you laugh the hardest, not even trying to make jokes that would land for anyone else. I can’t tell you that Spencer returns your feelings, but I can tell you that I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if he did. You need to let him in, and even though you don’t have to tell him how you’re feeling right away, you need to be more honest with him. He’s your best friend, and even if he somehow, in some extremely strange turn of events, doesn’t feel the same, I don’t think that he’s going to cut you off for loving him.” She punctuated her sentence with a hug and a kiss to your forehead.

“Can I have some soup?” You whispered, tears threatening to spill.

“Do you deserve soup? You are a liar. I don’t think liars deserve soup,” Angela replied, despite standing to grab the containers. You laughed, grateful for her lack of seriousness, and grabbed a tissue from your end table to dab at your eyes. 

She brought over the containers, setting them on the coffee table and handing you some napkins and a spoon. “Everything will be okay, honey. But you have to talk to Spencer, and soon. Can you promise me you’ll text him today? Even just to say hi. Like I said, you don’t have to tell him everything right away. But you can’t keep pushing him away, okay?” 

“Okay.”

After some soup and an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Angela headed out after nudging your phone closer to you. You nodded, and gave her a hug once you thanked her for her time and the soup. 

You put a record on, some random piano and instrumental album Spencer had gifted you after he found it at the thrift shop. Sinking into the couch once more, you muscled up the nerve to pick up your phone.

Angela had sent you a text encouraging you once more, and you sent some hearts in return. Opening the text thread with Spencer, your single pinned conversation in the messaging app, you took a deep breath and started typing.

hey bug. are u free?

His response was immediate, almost alarmingly so. You knew his phone was on do not disturb, but you also knew that you came through all his different DND modes. 

yeah what’s up?

can you come over? i miss you

omw love

The fast responses were a bit anxiety-inducing, and you realized you should probably make yourself a little more presentable. Making your way to the bathroom, Find My Friends app open and live-updating, you brushed your hair out and changed into one of Spencer’s shirts you stole however many years ago. You tossed on some pants, not wanting to be in sweats when you knew you were probably going to spill your guts as soon as he knocked on your door. Some mascara also probably wouldn’t hurt, but the Find My Friends app informed you that he wasn’t far away. Plus, you didn’t expect to make it out of this conversation without tears.

Spencer had to have been speeding with how quickly he got to your apartment. LA traffic was no joke, but it didn’t seem like he had encountered any somehow. When you first checked his location after texting him, you saw he was at the office, so you wondered what he told Ian and Anthony to be able to leave so quickly. 

You had finally managed to calm yourself down, and then he was in your apartment’s little entry alcove. You had given him a key as soon as you got the place. He hadn’t asked, but you were given two keys and knew if you needed him for anything he’d be over quicker than anyone else.

“Hey,” you whispered, taken aback by his natural beauty. He was wearing his glasses, which you secretly preferred. They suited him so well, and they made his eyes just a bit brighter. 

Spencer walked over to you, wrapping you in a hug with absolutely no hesitance. You appreciated that about him – no matter what was going on in either of your heads, you could always count on him to give you a hug when he saw you for the first time in a while.

“Hi, love.” He placed a small and quiet kiss on the top of your head, something he had been doing for years at this point, but it almost hurt a little bit this time. You were beginning to worry again. How could you deal with not having that physical affection if this went badly? “Get out of your head, Y/N. What’s going on, just talk to me, please.”

You both relaxed onto the couch, mere centimeters apart, as always. The strongest gods to exist couldn’t pull him away from you.

“I’m really sorry, bug. I’ve been shitty.” You looked down at your hands, decades-old habit of fidgeting with your thumbnail returning with a quickness. Spencer put his hand on yours, knowing you’d pick at your skin if he didn’t intervene. God, you really loved this man. “I’ve been pushing you away because I’ve been having my own internal issues, and that’s unfair to you, and I’m sorry. I’ve been a bad friend, but I want you to know it’s not your fault in the slightest. You know I tend to bottle stuff up, and I’m sorry I haven’t been honest.”

Spencer put his arm around you, pulling you ever-closer to him. You rested your head on his shoulder, a mirror of you and Angela a mere thirty minutes prior. Tears started falling, and you didn’t try to stop them. You had to let it out, holding it in wouldn’t do any good. Yeah, Angela tried to reinforce that you didn’t need to tell Spencer everything right away, but talking about it with her helped enough that you were confident now. It was time.

“Spence,” you started, looking up at him through your lashes. “I love you, you know that, right?”

He smiled, brighter than the sun, “Of course. I love you, too, Y/N.” 

“Yeah, but I’m not entirely sure you love me the way I love you.” You looked away at this point, unable to hold eye contact when you knew you were about to let far too many words fall out of your mouth. “Five years ago when I walked into that office and you greeted me, I was so, so anxious. Your presence immediately calmed me down, and I honestly knew then and there that I was fucked. You were just so kind, and in the interview you asked questions that made me feel like I’d known you my whole life. We fit together like two strange little puzzle pieces, and I’ve felt this way since that day. I’m so fucking in love with you, Spencer. It’s killing me. I don’t expect you to return my feelings and I promise, although it might hurt a little bit at first, I really, really don’t want us to go our separate ways. But I can’t keep this inside anymore.”

You took a breath, steeling your nerves. “I want to do everything with you, and I want to be everything to you. I’m head over heels over ass over dick in love with you, and it’s driving me crazy. I tried pulling away, I thought it might help the feelings fade. But I just feel like a dick, since that’s what I’ve been for months at this point. I’m really sorry, I was trying to preserve my own sanity but I didn’t take your feelings into account and that’s unfair and shitty. I can’t say that I love you and then treat you how I’ve been treating you. I hope you can forgive me for how I’ve been acting. And above all, I hope you can forgive me for loving you. I can’t make it stop, but I promise I won’t hold anything against you. And I promise I’ll be a better friend.”

You finally separated from his side, grabbing yet another tissue to dry your face before daring to look at him. When you did finally turn your attention to Spencer, he was silently crying too.

“Y/N, you wouldn’t believe how happy I am to hear that. I’ve not been fair to you either, and I promise I’m not upset and I don’t hold anything against you. I’d be extremely hypocritical if I did.”

You were quiet, hoping he’d continue to elaborate. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, you needed to hear it from him. You needed him to say it.

When Spencer realized you weren’t going to respond, he gave you what you silently asked for. Always a mindreader, him. “I love you too, Y/N, and I have loved you just as long. When I saw you all those years ago, my heart started racing, and I thought I was having a stroke.” A quiet laugh escaped him, reminiscing on that fateful day. “You were effortlessly gorgeous, and you held yourself so confidently. I’ve been gone for you since that day, so no, I’m not upset. I’ve been meaning to tell you, too, but right when I finally decided to nut up, you started pushing me away. I got super paranoid that you had somehow realized how I felt and were, like, grossed out and decided to distance yourself. But I love you too, I have for years, and I will continue to do so for the rest of my life. It’s been you for five years, and it’s always going to be you. I can promise you that.” 

He had been holding your gaze the whole time he spoke, and you could tell he was being a hundred percent genuine. All your anxiety dissipated and was replaced with a burning happiness deep in your veins.

Feeling all too bold, you quickly asked, “Can I kiss you?” 

His response came in the form of soft lips on yours, no pressure, no rush. Just… bliss.

You started to lay back on the couch, bringing him down with you, until you were both wrapped up in each other, lazily kissing like you had all the time in the world. And it felt like you did – time had stopped entirely and the only real, tangible thing in this universe was Spencer. 

It was easy, falling into this. But it had been easy all along, you had just made it hard because you were scared. And Spencer didn’t hold that against you, he understood better than anyone. When he did finally pull back, your smiles were both so wide you knew your cheekbones would be hurting come morning. All you could do was thank him. For the kiss, for his compassion, for his forgiveness. For returning your feelings, and not judging you for being a shithead for two months. For giving you the time and space you needed to pull your head out of your ass. Spencer wasn’t having any of it, of course.

You knew there was a conversation that needed to be had, about what this friendship or relationship was now, and how you were going to navigate this change. But that could wait. You had forever, hopefully, and you knew Spencer would give you any time you needed. 

That’s why you love him, after all – he understands you better than anyone, and he had more patience than anyone else you’d met. 

You weren’t exactly looking forward to getting off this couch and moving forward, to be honest. You just wanted to stay in this moment and in Spencer’s arms, his lips on yours and his hands on your waist. But life waits for no one, and after all, Spencer was in your life, for good. You weren’t worried about the future, per se, but you had been waiting more than 1800 days for this, and you were planning on savoring it for as long as you possibly could.

You had a feeling Spencer did, too.

//

told you!!!!!! send me all the deets when he finally leaves xoxo gossip ang

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

another fic in the books who fuckin cheered!! i hope u enjoyed pls leave feedback if u feel so inclined... i love u!

[fraisefille33]

October 16 2024.

Day 84/365 of me attempting to immerse myself in German in at least one way every day for a year.

I’ve finally changed this from “a year straight” to just “a year” cause I don’t think I’m capable of doing this a year straight right now. However, I do still want to get this up to 365 days no matter how much time ends up between those days.

I’m honestly not 100% sure the number 84 is accurate. It may be a little higher than that since my last update. I’ve tried to remember the amount of days but I never kept track. I had a week long Busuu streak when I first downloaded the app and have used it a couple times since then for some more lessons. Though I have lost a fair amount of motivation to actually do things. I still want to learn German, I’ve just been having a hard time getting myself to sit down and really focus on it. All my reasons to want to learn are still there. Nothing has changed. I’ve just suddenly hit a point of constantly procrastinating. Which isn’t too shocking, this is how things went when I was in school as well. The good new is, however, I don’t have a time limit now. I don’t have to know a certain amount by a certain date. I can take this at my own pace without pressure.

As for today, the most recent day being added to this count: I’ve watched part of an episode of Scooby Doo Mystery Incorporated and part of an episode of Be Cool Scooby Doo on the German Warner Brothers YouTube channel. I also am hopefully going to do a Busuu lesson, or maybe a couple if I’m up to it, later tonight.

I really want to get myself on some sort of proper study schedule. Especially since I have free time constantly at the moment. I’m not in school nor do I have a job. I have no real excuses not to be studying German and I should be taking advantage of this free time before I eventually do get a job or go to school. I’ve also considered maybe joining a local church group once I’m 19 (for some reason they just don’t have any groups for ages 14-18.. They do for before and after… Just not those ages 🤷) just to get some social interaction with other people my age offline. I’m not sure how to manage it though because I don’t work well with schedules. I tend to create them and then ignore them. So I’ll have to figure that out first.

[cadiacore]

Hey! Perhaps either

“i don’t like you. i can barely tolerate you.” “then why do you keep coming back?”

“Shh, go to sleep.. I’ve got you.” 

With ruhn or Flynn? I couldn’t decide 😂

~SleepyPond

hiii sleepy! I love how I completely suck at doing requests but once Taylor Swift released Midnights, my brain was like "okay, it's time. requests it is.", especially with Lavender Haze. Hence why I name this small fic 'lavender'. Plus it deals with sleep so it fits all together lol

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡ ruhn danaan x fem!reader

warning(s): insomnia, fluff, procrastination, and more romantic cutesy stuff. (also this is unedited, my brain is 😵‍💫)

Red and orange leaves sprinkled the ground outside of Y/N and Ruhn’s apartment. The setting sun reminded her of when she used to sit on top of her parent’s roof. A smile crept across her face as she remembered her mother hollering for her to get down before she did. 

Y/N’s hands were warm from the cup in her hands and the lavender liquid that the cup held was the only thing soothing her nerves. She had an exam due in three days and had no idea how to do it. Statistics was her worst enemy. Well, anything math-related, she hated. Too much was involved with the damn subject. She would much rather sit beside a fire, reading. 

Reading sounded great at that moment, but with all the worries that crowded her mind, she couldn’t keep track of the story. So, Y/N sat on the balcony and watched as the stars twinkled beside the crescent moon. She brought the cup to her lips and took a sip of the warm liquid. With a deep sigh, she sunk back into her seat and listened to all the city sounds. What drew her from her thoughts was the sound of footsteps. She sat up and looked back into the spacious living room and saw Ruhn. His midnight hair fell across his shoulder and he was shirtless. 

He had spotted Y/N and made his way to her, joining her on the balcony. “Can’t sleep?” he asked. 

“Yeah, too much on my mind, I guess.” Ruhn leaned against the railing and watched as she took another sip of her tea. He tilted his head and when she met the fae’s eyes, she sighed, “I’m worried about the fucking exam,” she grumbled. 

He let out a soft chuckle and shook his head, “You’re going to do fine. You’re the smartest female I’ve ever met and you’ve been studying for this exam for weeks, love,” he reassured. Y/N took a deep breath and stood from the chair. She placed the cup down on the small table that accompanied the small chair, and stood in front of the male. His eyes were the ones she could get lost in for hours and she had so many times. She laid her palms on his bare chest and leaned up to his lips, pressing hers to his. 

A soft sigh escaped her throat when she pulled away. Ruhn smiled and wrapped his arms around her middle, “You need to get some sleep, love,” he said, his voice rough but smooth at the same time. 

“I wish I could, I’m drinking lavender tea but so far my brain is re—hey!” she squealed as the male tossed her over his shoulder, making his way to the living room where the small pup slept comfortably. His sleep was disturbed when Ruhn placed her down on the couch. 

“You can’t just toss me over your shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes, you know?” 

That earned her a crooked grin as he grabbed a blanket from the armchair beside the sofa, “Yeah, well, we need sleep and I’m not sleeping without you so,” he countered. Y/N’s cheeks heated and her heart felt like it had skipped several beats. She knew she was in love and it scared her but this was the first healthy relationship she’s been in a while. He was healthy. 

Ruhn sank into the space next to her and pulled her into him, his warm skin blanketing her in a way that made her want to melt into him. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck while her legs did the same around his waist. Y/N nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and let out a small sigh of relief. The two of them sat in comfortable silence as he twirled her hair between his fingers. Her eyes began to slowly become heavy as his hand rubbed her back, soothing her mind into a quiet hum. Thoughts of failing her exam were quieted from the cool water cologne he put on every day. 

“I’ve got you, love. You can sleep,” he said as he pressed his lips to her temple. When the words left his lips she felt another wave of fatigue wash over her. She wanted to say something but her body succumbed to slumber.

[my-johnlockficrecs]

because of course, the end of june is the best time for a may wrap up 🥴 LMAO i absolutely lost track of time and procrastinated my may reading list a whole entire month. ahem. however! i seem to have read an awful lot during may, so there will be two parts to the list. hopefully that makes up for the tardiness. i hope y’all had a fun, relaxing may. times are weird and stressful and scary as of right now, especially for our friends in america. i’m thinking of all of you who are having a tough time, america and beyond 💖 all i can offer you is an open inbox and an empathetic ear. and, of course, fic recs. it’s not much, but maybe something on here could provide an escape, even if for a moment.

key: blue: reread • 💌 majorly or in part epistolary • 📚 unilock

spotlight rec

✰ Let's Make a Bed Out in the Rain by Anonymous (17k, M)

John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.

this fic takes an approach to the john/mary relationship and how it came about in a way that was absolutely novel to me. instead of the dramatics of canon, this fic boils the john-mary-sherlock situation down to its basics. john enters a long term relationship with mary while sherlock pines in silence. Let’s Make a Bed starts out with john and mary’s breakup, and tells us the heartwarming, utterly sweet story of how sherlock takes care of john in the aftermath of it all. one of the things that i sincerely appreciated about this fic is how sherlock’s care towards john was never wholly motivated by his own romantic attachment to john, but also because of the friendship they shared. sherlock loves john here immensely, but he’s also his best friend. there are some moments of hilarity that will make you laugh in delight (the way sherlock got his back on mary!😂) and heart-touching moments of tenderness too. the moment of realisation is just the sweetest thing ever and absolutely made me melt. the angst and pining here is the kind that makes your heart ache, but not in an entirely bad way.

✰ Mathematical Proof series by Bitenomnom (108k, 50 works, complete)

i’m also going to spotlight Bitenomnom’s delightfully diverse series, Mathematical Proof. (haven’t added a link here because i can’t add more links to this post and i absolutely refuse to reformat the whole thing. Bitenomnom has been linked in the list below, right next to the fics i’ve read from the Mathematical Proof series). it mostly consists of one-shots, although some are connected to each other, and every story is based on some mathematical principle or the other that the author found intriguing at the time. i just thought that the idea of applying mathematical theories to johnlock was (a) incredibly inventive and unique and (b) very impressive. also, just generally, it’s clear from the stories and the author’s notes that the author has a genuine passion for math and i love to see how they use johnlock as an interpretive medium. for anyone who (like me) is not a mathematician of any order; worry not! you don’t actually need to have a thorough understanding of advanced math to enjoy these fics. and for those who are curious to learn more, the author explains the mathematical principle being used in great detail before the start of every fic.

bite sized (5k and less)

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands by miss_frankenstein (3k, teen)

“Will you need fresh socks?”

Sherlock’s voice immediately brings John back to the present. “What?”

Sherlock gestures irritably to the wet socks clutched in John’s hand. “Socks,” he says again sharply because he hates repeating himself, “Will you need fresh socks?”

A post-S3 piece in which John and Sherlock finally confront their feelings for each other - as only they would do - in the pouring rain.

softly, softly by threadoflife (1k, G)

They were back to grinning at each other, embarrassingly enough: a whole five seconds of terrifying delight. John wanted to reach out and smooth his thumb over the screen, behind which Sherlock’s face was locked. It was a bit pixelled, now, the connection likely slowing down. Christ, John wanted to be there with him; or he wanted Sherlock here; it didn’t really matter. He just wanted Sherlock, location be damned.

Fuck. Fuck, he had it bad.

Don’t Cry Sweet Honeybee by Musings_o (4k, unrated)

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson go through years of love, separation, and heartache.

Though the pain is worth it, worth being reunited once more.

EMERGENCY CONTACT: Sherlock Holmes, RELATIONSHIP: n/a by @blueink3 (5k,M)

The first time John Watson’s emergency contact is called is the first time Sherlock Holmes finds out that he has the job.

and as the seasons change, i love you more by teatrolley (3k, unrated)

“I love you,” John murmurs when he pulls back, panting and with pink cheeks.

“Mm,” Sherlock says, because after four years of being together they can joke about it. “Why?”

“Don’t fish for compliments,” John says, but he kisses Sherlock again, softly this time.

Later, when Sherlock goes to the bathroom, he finds a sticky note on the mirror saying “Because you make my chest feel like it’s on fire, but in the good way.”

_________________

A year in the lives of John and Sherlock, essentially

Let Go by thisisforyou (2k, G)

In the end, separating John's things from Sherlock's in the chaos of their sitting room is like pulling a limpet from a wet rock. Especially when the rock is clinging on for dear life, because Sherlock doesn't want to let go. Short, fluffy h/c Johnlock oneshot.

Improbable Remains by tamed_untranslatable (3k, teen)

“So we, um.” His left hand clenched at his side underneath the table. "We probably shouldn’t bring this back to London, then."

"No, quite right.” Sherlock nodded.

“I mean, I don’t want to ruin…” The uncertainty had returned to John’s eyes as he looked back at Sherlock.

“No, absolutely not,” Sherlock agreed, and now he was beginning to feel some of that relief, too. Wherever he may have imagined this would lead, he knew that he couldn’t bear to lose John’s friendship. “It can just be something for Dartmoor, then."

"Right, yeah. Just a Dartmoor thing.” John nodded.

Two Words by stopthat (1k, teen)

I reach out and let my palm fall to his shoulder. I think, finally, the time for this has come.

Of Velvet and Silk, Cotton and Cashmere by cwb (2k, E)

Vignettes of Sherlock at different ages, what he loved, what he lost, and how John gave it back.

Still, With Hearts Beating by @finamour (2k, E)

John already knows the sound of Sherlock’s heartbeat. He’s become familiar with his breathing patterns, the way they grow quicker and more shallow as the two of them run through the streets of London. He has, in a passing manner, come to know Sherlock’s scent; the colour of his skin in the dim light of the alleyway; the way his hair grows matted and sweaty against the nape of his neck on a warm July night.

But he has never been pressed up against Sherlock like this, the rise and fall of his breath pushing into his own body through their thin summer clothes. Until now, he has never been fully immersed in his scent, felt his hair softly brushing his face, the thrumming of Sherlock’s heart against his own chest.

Too Much by belovedmuerto (567, teen)

Sometimes, it's too much for John.

Tangential by Bitenomnom (2k, unrated)

“You know, for being married, you and your Work seem to have a pretty on-again, off-again relationship."

"Yes. I’d say it’s grounds for divorce, wouldn’t you?”

“If it’d mean less collateral damage to the flat, I’m all for it.” He pulled up the newspaper and had a glance over it. “But you do strike me as a bit of a kept man. Hope you’ve got a secret lover ready to snatch you up and take care of you.”

Sherlock could have said, “I might, if you’d like to keep me.” But instead, he asked, “Do you have any opinions on bees?”

...In which John stitches up Sherlock's head (but not really), Sherlock comes into John's room at night to take his laptop (but not really), Sherlock is married to his Work (but not really), and John is more than proficient at keeping Sherlock (really, definitely).

Latent Variable by Bitenomnom (3k, unrated)

“John,” he pulled himself into a sitting position to face John. “How many times have you seen me eat outside this flat?”

John leaned back thoughtfully. “Well, I…” He tilted his head. “Huh.” John scooted forward in his chair, leaning over his knees to look Sherlock in the eye. “Why?”

“It’s more comfortable.”

“Is that it? You starved yourself of a nice hot dinner at Angelo’s so that you could sit on the sofa while you eat?”

“That’s not it.”

Sherlock never eats at restaurants when he and John go out -- not even when he's not on a case.

Nested Dichotomy by Bitenomnom (2k, unrated)

Water dripped from the ceiling.

Water dripped from the ceiling insofar as that water dripped from the ceiling tiles, which were located in pieces on the floor.

Sherlock stood, brushing dust from himself, brushing the ceiling from himself, and looked beneath him and saw his own unconscious—no, dead—body, on the ceiling.

Rewind.

The ceiling gathered back together, coagulated thirty feet above him, spat water back out into the pool as it gathered up tendrils of itself back into the depths.

John supposed this wasn’t a surprising night for Sherlock’s mind to conjure up something horrific. John hadn’t gone to sleep, for similar reasons—had just laid in bed, reading, until Sherlock barged in.

Remodeling by Bitenomnom (2k, unrated)

“There’s no way you tapped my arm.” “Why wouldn’t there be?” “Because you’ve never touched me.” Sherlock studied him for a moment more before gasping in an, “Oh.” “What?” “While you were deleting some contents of your brain, you were also deleting any sensory input associated with the process.” “Meaning…” “Meaning that according to your brain, we have never made physical contact.”

Paired Comparison Experiment Notes, Trials 1-24 by Bitenomnom (1k, unrated)

Trial 4: Subject extremely confused by sudden commencement of dirty talk after innocent game of footsie at breakfast, splashes tea on experimenter, refuses to specify preference.

Trial 14: Subject prefers handshake to pinching of arse, does not applaud experimenter’s creativity in utilizing organic situations to their fullest potential by coordinating handshaking procedure for magazine photograph with opportunity to test against buttocks-pinching variable. Quote, “Stop pinching my arse, Sherlock!” followed by, quote, “Please don’t print that in the interview.”

The Paired Comparison Model by Bitenomnom (2k, unrated)

Today, a mysterious chart appeared on the refrigerator of 221B. John is reasonably certain that Sherlock is not planning on calling for volunteers to come knocking at 221B for some variety of sexual experimentation, although that is very much what the chart on the refrigerator seems to suggest. He is also reasonably certain, however, that whatever it is, it must not involve Sherlock, because the chart on the refrigerator lists quite a few things that John doesn’t imagine Sherlock would ever do of his own free will. The real question, then—which John poses to Sherlock after several moments’ silence—is, “When’s the orgy?”

Successive Over-Relaxation by Bitenomnom (1k, unrated)

“Oh, give them here, you git,” is what John says to Sherlock as Sherlock rubs at his feet in the most histrionic fashion possible. Sherlock quirks an eyebrow at John. “Yes, right, you heard me, put your feet up here and let me rub them; you’re doing a bloody awful job of it.”

Visual Verification by Bitenomnom (2k, E)

John pulled Sherlock’s face down and leaned heavier against him to whisper in his ear. “I said scientific rigor,” John told him. “I meant a demonstration, not a discussion over whether bloody Scotland Yard was going to figure out the meaning of your convoluted description.”

The Postal Problem by Bitenomnom (2k, unrated) 💌

On Sherlock's nineteenth consecutive day of temporarily being a postman, John finally sends his letter to his girlfriend. Well, not quite the letter he originally intended to send.

The Cost of Decreased Variance by Bitenomnom (2k, unrated)

Sherlock had awoken wondering whose things were in 221B; clearly, they were John Watson’s. Clearly, John Watson was his flatmate. And clearly, for some reason, every single night, Sherlock deleted him.

The Genetic Algorithm by Bitenomnom (3k, unrated)

Some problems defy the usage of cold, clean-cut linear logic. It is impossible to devise a way to take steps that ultimately lead exactly to an optimal answer. Sherlock believes John Watson is one of those problems.

Fuzzy Measures by Bitenomnom (2k, unrated)

“Honestly, John? ‘The Navel Treatment'?” “You can call it whatever you want on your blog,” John glanced up from his laptop to Sherlock, who was watching him type about the case over his shoulder. “I didn’t think you were really going to give it that title.” “You knew I was going to, Sherlock. You know how I run my blog.” “Yes: stupidly.” “And,” John pointedly ignored this comment, “it’s not my fault you found the crucial evidence in the victim’s belly button. It was lint, Sherlock. I don’t exactly have a lot to work with.” “You could try not titling your entries with terrible puns.”

The Transposable Choquet Integral by Bitenomnom (1k, unrated)

“Oh,” Sherlock said, tracing his fingers over John’s stomach. “Nothing at all like the data I had been testing.” John rolled his eyes. “You know, Sherlock, I seriously doubt my body hair is terribly different from any other bloke’s.” “Wouldn’t know,” Sherlock said.

Fixed Points by Bitenomnom (532, unrated)

The Fixed Point Method of estimating roots involves employing an algorithm until the input is roughly equal to the output. Sherlock and John's arguments work in much the same way.

A Penalty for Profusion by Bitenomnom (1k, unrated)

"Did you really think I was born knowing how to identify a zoologist by her fingernails and cutlery?" "No, of course not." John considered turning away for the imminent lecture. "I practiced," Sherlock reiterated instead. "Of course I didn’t always immediately know what to look for."

Variance by Bitenomnom (797, unrated)

“It’s actually two point nine.” “What?” “Meters. That you stay from me, all the time. Well—since you punched me, anyway.” “Oh. I hadn’t really put that much thought into it.” “How very homoscedastic of you.”

Type III by Bitenomnom (1k, unrated)

It had been, by Sherlock’s estimate (he could not tell precisely—shades drawn, so amount of light outside and therefore time of day unknown, extended amounts of sleep disorienting) sixteen days since John had returned. Seventeen was also a distinct possibility. His mobile was nowhere to be found. John was asleep beside him: that was exactly where John was supposed to be. John had returned and everything was right again.

Parallel by Bitenomnom (3k, unrated)

While John and Sherlock were apart (apart for years, this time, years and years and years even with both in London, apart but for the occasional visits, ever less personal) they were not so different. Sherlock still solved crimes. He pretended to shoot holes in the wall. It was better this way. \\ John pretended to shoot holes in the wall. Things hadn’t changed so much. He still solved cases with Sherlock, sometimes. He pretended to shoot holes in the wall. It was better this way.

Interaction by Bitenomnom (4k, unrated)

The last time he had seen Sherlock was three years ago—completely by accident. Sherlock hadn’t come to Mary’s funeral, but that was no surprise; John had seen him a few days afterward, but not since then, not until this time. John, fourteen years after leaving Baker Street, looks back on his relationship with Sherlock, on his marriage, and on his unshakable loneliness. Goes with Touching.

Touching by Bitenomnom (3k, unrated)

He and John fell in love eighteen years ago. It fell apart quickly. It fell apart suddenly. It fell apart sixteen years ago. But they were still flatmates, and they still solved crimes, and nothing changed. Nothing changed sixteen years ago, just the details, just the important little details. Sherlock was no longer allowed to sleep in bed with John, or run his fingers through John’s hair or breathe on his collarbone or nip at his nose or sleep with his face buried in a discarded jumper or lay his head in John’s lap while they watched John’s action and sci-fi movies. Everything changed fourteen years ago, though. Everything.

Fifteen Years by Bitenomnom (1k, unrated)

A lot changes in fifteen years -- and a lot doesn't. Fifteen years before Baskerville, John wanted a dog. Fifteen years before Sherlock was in court, Sherlock was in court. Fifteen years before John met Sherlock, John wasn't interested in the violin. Fifteen years before he met Irene Adler, someone asked Sherlock out for dinner. Fifteen years before Sherlock kissed John, Sherlock kissed John.

Five Times Sherlock gave John a Pebble and One Time John Returned the Gesture by grimmfairy (1k, unrated)

Written for a prompt by navydream on tumblr: So penguins bring rocks to their mates and Sherlock somehow fond out about this… and suddenly, John starts finding all sorts of pebbles, starting from the ordinary to a rare moon stone. Sherlock isn't good with words, so he decides to tell John his feelings the way penguins do, by bringing him pebbles with different meanings. John catches on.

God's Own Country by halloa_what_is_this (4k, teen)

Road trip through nowhere, everywhere, anywhere.

Bitter Nights Turned Sweet by Hyliare (4k, teen)

“Christ, Sherlock, what’s happened?” The detective’s eyes are red-rimmed, blown wide to combat the urge to squint (a measure to preserve Sherlock’s dignity, John is certain—at least what dignity is left). His hair is more than messy, it’s littered with tiny knots all along the lines of his temples. He’s clean, at least, so he must have showered, but the hem on the bottom of his vest is partially unravelled. “Sherlock—” “Nothing’s happened. I’m just tired.” Sherlock has always had trouble sleeping; he hasn't always had someone in his life willing to help.

Two To Tango (The Cold Hands, Warm Heart Remix) by igrockspock (1k, teen)

When John is wounded while pursuing a suspect, Sherlock refuses to leave his side.

When Your Belly's in the Trench by Morgan_Stuart (4k, teen)

The next time that door opens, John Watson will kill the person on the other side.

short fics (5k-15k)

holding steady by @watsonshoneybee (12k, E)

Sitting on a thick wool blanket at the end of a rickety dock side-by-side, legs dangling over the edge, a styrofoam container of wet, dark dirt between them, they’re fishing.

*

John knows what this is about. This is about finally figuring it out.

EMERGENCY CONTACT: John Watson, RELATIONSHIP: Saint by @blueink3 (6k, M)

The first time Sherlock Holmes realizes he needs an emergency contact is the first time he mentally appoints John Watson with the job.

John, of course, does not know this and neither does the local hospital.

Their Great Reward by @the-pen-pot (10k, teen)

Boxing day, in John's opinions, is the worst day of the year. Christmas is over, the tree is wilting and stripped of gifts, and there's a week of dead-time until the clean slate of the new year. However the combination of a blizzard, a power-cut and Sherlock might just make it a day to remember. (John and Sherlock pre-slash to slash fluff)

The Newlywed Game: Johnlock Edition by patternofdefiance (9k, E)

What it says on the tin: John and Sherlock pretend to be married in order to be contestants in a Newlywed Game.

Of course it's for a case.

Of course it doesn't stay that way.

The Fundamental Things Apply by @raina-at (6k, M)

"Kisses that are easily obtained are easily forgotten." - Proverb

Nestled between head and heart by @blogstandbygo (8k, teen)

A series of vignettes about Sherlock Holmes's lifelong relationship with his violin.

Strong at the Broken Places by @blueink3 (10k, M)

They dated for ten months during Sherlock's first year of uni and John's last before the latter went off to fight someone else's war. When they meet again two-and-a-half years later, John's gained a scar in his shoulder and a limp he can't seem to shake. Sherlock's gained a new boyfriend and bruises he can't seem to explain away.

I Need You To See Me by Mssmithlove (12k, E)

After going back to war, John is yet again invalided home, this time with a broken ankle and a chunk of his memory missing, unable to recall the last five years he's spent being Sherlock Holmes' partner and husband.

The Deepest Secret Nobody Knows by @raina-at (7k, E)

Sherlock is back from the dead. Now all he has to do is get back his Blogger.

A Bump in the Road by BakerTumblings (10k, teen)

Now and again, something will happen that rocks their collective world. Sometimes it concerns about healthy living, a wise behaviour choice, their London community, body parts in the fridge, a career path, an event in the life of one of their friends. 

And sometimes it's more personal, and the bump in the road can be not only a surprise, but possibly serious.

I'm Pretty Sure This Changes Shit by cwb (7k, E)

Back at the flat Sherlock threw himself down on the couch, limbs akimbo, throat bared, one wrist placed strategically over his furrowed brow. He moaned, but not too loudly, just under the threshold of noticeably dramatic. He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt with his other hand, making sure that John had plenty of chest to explore. Exploration was good. Exploration was highly encouraged.

mid length (16k-50k)

The Way to a Man’s Heart by @swissmissing (21k, teen)

When Greg asks Sherlock to be his best man, the past returns in an unexpected way, confronting Sherlock and John with the need to define what they are to each other. Set about a year after series 3.

Letters From Sussex by @sussexbound (32k, E) 💌

In the wake of the Mary/Moriarty affair, John and Sherlock have fallen out, and are living apart. But Sherlock isn't content with this state of affairs--not one bit. He's tired of dancing around the obvious. The wooing of John Watson starts now!

Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour by what_alchemy (30k, E)

“You love your mother, Sherlock?”

John watched the muscles in Sherlock’s jaw jump. He nodded in one sharp jerk.

“Then we’re going to her party and making her happy.” John let out a resigned sigh. “As a ruddy couple, you bastard.”

The Wisteria Tree by @silentauroriamthereal (29k, E)

Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

Just a Touch of Lips by Salambo06 (21k, E) 📚

Two weeks ago, Sherlock kissed a blindfolded John Watson, captain of the Rugby Team, during an university event and left before he could see his face. Neither have been able to think about anything else since. When Mike mentions a certain student in his Chemistry class who could help John find his mysterious kisser, they both find themselves in a situation they hadn't expected.

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (24k, E)

Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they've made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning. ---- Sherlock’s head snapped to the right, where he fixed his gaze upon the rather unexpected development that was a man standing in their kitchen wearing nothing but his pants and a t-shirt. …Unexpected…was this unexpected? Shortly after meeting him, Sherlock had easily deduced that John was not uninterested in men sexually. This was something that John was at least mildly conflicted about and overcompensated for constantly. It was likely that he’d experimented with this interest at least once in the not too distant past, although this was one point on which Sherlock was chronically uncertain. And Sherlock hated being uncertain.

long fics (50k and above)

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (56k, E)

The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed.

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

Like I did with you

So I’ve been procrastinating hard during my study break for my exams, but here have a song fic!

Ghost of you by 5SOS

Genius comments: The song tells the tale of a heartbroken lover who has lost his significant other – due to a breakup or even suicide/death – and is refusing to accept the fact that she is never coming back.

I didn’t feel like writing angst and whenever I hear this song I feel like ballroom dancing (and I have).

Also thank you to the lovely people on the Maribat discord server!

Ao3

The sequel ‘It started with a whisper’ is up!

————————

Gotham Academy implemented a new ‘Study Abroad’ program due to recent funding from a local humanitarian. This program gave the students of Gotham Academy a chance to study abroad in Europe and vice versa. Countries like Sweden, Greece, Germany, Ireland and more participated in the program; offering a multitude of high schools with many different courses.

And because of that very wealthy benefactor, his son got first pick on where he would like to study. This was 100% not a forced decision at all to subtly keep track of the happenings of Paris. With that the Ice Prince of Gotham took the City of Love by storm.

He had been at Collège Françoise Dupont for the past few months, and it’s been hell. The class he had been placed into was ripping apart at the seams. There were two students that the class gravitated towards; he observed some of the others meeting in secret, without the knowledge of their respective ‘leaders’.

The first student that held the majority of the class’ focus was Lila Rossi. She was a black hole with beady green eyes, who dragged who ever was in her reach to an agonising fate. Damian saw through her deceptions and rejected her flirtations. The students that followed her, ate up whatever lie she spat out. Rossi soon learned that lies about the Wayne family and Gotham wouldn’t fly with him.

“Really? You worked with Monsieur Wayne?” The pink clad girl, Rose, squeaked.

Damian had just walked into class on his second day at the hell hole and already regretted it. He shot a glare towards the large group, “Who ever told you that is severely misinformed. My father has never worked with a minor from Europe, due to potential rumours and allegations it could cause. It is not a threat but a promise if a lie of similar caliber is spread there will be a lawsuit.” And with that he walked towards his seat in the back, the Ice Prince had cast his decree, the class’ atmosphere had frozen over.

The second student was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Those that surrounded her were Alix Kubdel, Chloé Bourgeois, Max Kanté, Lê Chiến Kim and the occasional secret appearance from Juleka Couffaine. They didn’t view Dupain-Cheng through rose coloured lenses, they were always grounded and opinions were respected. Damian, who was a loner without Jon at his side, was satisfied by himself; Marinette respected that and didn’t force him to socialise like Lila tried to.

So that leads us to this. He stood against a sidewall of the giant banquet hall, staring out at the crowd before him. Jon was walking to wards him with a can of sprite in hand. Jon had moved to Paris with him but had been placed into a different class. The boy who was the epitome of sunshine stuck around the Ice Prince, their friendship is an enigma to the Françoise Dupont students.

Jon’s face was flushed. He had just gotten a drink after dancing for the past hour. Tonight was the night of the Collège’s formal dance for their graduating class. Skirts of all colours and fabrics swirled, as their partners (majority of whom had matching suits) twirled them to the music.

Jon, gesturing to the crowd, asked him whether he was going to stand there all night or dance. Taking a sip of his drink a smirk appears on his face, “unless the great Damian Wayne is to much of a coward to dance.”

Here I am waking up

Still can't sleep on your side

Damian’s head snapped towards the taller boy, “Are you seriously using my ego to get me to dance?”

Jon raising an eyebrow, “Well?”

If I can dream long enough

The temperamental teen stormed off, grumbling about “Jon being as bad as Todd”. Scanning the room he search for a suitable partner, there was no way he would embarrass himself by dancing alone.

You'd tell me I'd be just fine

I'll be just fine

He spotted Dupain-Cheng stood off to the side, alone. She was draped in a layered white dress with black hemming. As he neared, he realised that the asymmetrical skirt was actually a light blush with her signature apple blossom flowers embroidered. She looked up at him and he straightened his stance, slowing his pace. Her sapphire eyes locked on to his, her bangs curled off to the side along with the rest of her hair in beach waves.

So I drown it out like I always do

She gifted him a small smile, a usual occurrence within her interactions with him. He offered his left hand, bowing his head slightly. “Dupain-Che—“ he cleared his throat, “Marinette. Would you do me the honour of joining me in this dance?”

Dancing through our house

With the ghost of you

Her eyes widened, not expecting the Arabian God of a teen before her to ask her such a question. She saw his temper during class during his spats with Lila and how he kept to himself without the presence of Jon. But here he was in a fitted Armani suit that made his green eyes glow, and hair messily slicked to the side. Marinette looked at his hand, glad that her makeup mostly hid her blush.

And I chase it down

“I am...” She paused to find the right word, “I am a bad dancer. It is better for everyone that I don’t participate.”

“I can think of nothing less appealing than an evening of watching other people dance.” A small gasp escaped from her mouth before she could stop it. She watched as his mouth twitch’s downwards before his facade returned with full strength. “If you do not wish, to I won’t force you. But if you’ll allow me I’ll guide you through the dance to make sure it isn’t an utter disaster.”

With a shot of truth

Marinette’s lips quirked, giggling as she took his hand, “Your funeral Damian.”

What had he gotten himself into?

The two entered the dance floor, taking up the dance support hold. Their dance had the basic steps of the waltz, with a promenade and many spins; some as a couple and some were just Mari. Damian soon found he enjoy watching the sparkles in her dress light up as she spun. It became even more enjoyable when he discovered that the dress was her own creation.

Dancing through our house

The two made quiet conversations during their dance. Damian pulled her closer by the waist as they repeated the basic steps, their bodies perfectly in tune with each other. “You are a fine dancer despite your protests”

With the ghost of you

Marinette tilted her head up at him, blinding him with a dazzling smile. Damian’s heart fluttered, the two always had a mutual respect but it seems to have grown into a fond appreciation.

From the tables scattered around the dance floor there was a blond, with his fist clenched. Lila had dragged him off of the floor as soon as Damian and Marinette made their debuts; together. The brunette was now off angrily gossiping to Alya and any other who’d listen. It was a hot topic between Lila and Alya that Marinette loved him, although now, as he watched her dance with Damian, he was unsure as to whether that was ever true. He sat there, glued to his seat, watching the spectacle before him.

Cleaning up today

Found that old Zepplin shirt

The two dancers didn’t notice that everyone had cleared off the floor to watch them. They danced in sync, no movement was made without the other following it. Adrien had realised awhile ago that even though he didn’t have romantic feelings for Marinette, he cherished her friendship. That relationship was now tarnished due to the path he took when he first revealed his knowledge of the deceptions. His father had forced him to keep Lila happy, even if it made him miserable.

You wore when you ran away

And no one could feel your hurt

He had lost her, and he was unsure as to whether he could gain any semblance of their relationship back.

We're too young, too dumb

To know things like love

Damian lifted his partner’s right hand and twirled her three times, they both were content within their own world. The two swayed before turning together and walking around the now open space.

But I know better now (Better now)

Marinette flushed as she realised what was happening around her, leaning towards her partner she whispered, “I think we’ve become an impromptu entertainment.”

Too young, too dumb

To know things like love

Too young, too dumb

Damian subtly gazed behind her seeing their peers in a circle surrounding them. He was on the inside looking out, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He whispered reassurances in her ear, he wished to finish the song before he released her from his embrace. The two drowned out their audience, focusing on each other and the beat of the song.

So I drown it out like I always do

Dancing through our house

With the ghost of you

And I chase it down

With a shot of truth

That my feet don't dance

Like they did with you

The melody slowly faded off as the last lines were sung. The two finished on a basic waltz step before swaying in each other’s arms. The music ends and there is silence, blood rushed to their ears and their breaths mingled.

The two stayed in the other’s embrace, face-to-face, staring. They broke out of their trance by clapping. Looking around Marinette saw many of her peers and most of the supervising teachers applauding their performance.

Their friends broke through the crowd, Jon patted Damian’s shoulder (retracting before he got bit) while Chloe and Alix pulled Marinette back to their table to discuss what Disney magic had befallen the couple. The bluenette glanced back at her partner, mouthing a silent goodbye.

The crowd dispersed but were still buzzing from their display. Marinette was bombarded with questions, not only from her friends, but from other students about her dancing with the demon. Her stuttered replies did little to quench the crowd’s thirst. Her face must be comparable to that of a tomato.

Damian, having noticed the building crowd and Marinette’s uncomfortable stance, broke away from Jon. The crowd parted like the red sea, unwilling to be the one to anger the Ice Prince.

He offered her his arm (to which she took) and escorted her out to the patio outside. She stayed entwined with him, as she looked out at the stray Parisian night; leaning her head onto his should. Here the two could breathe. Here the two of them could be their present selves, no ghostly facades needed. It seems they could drown out anything in the presence of each other.

Unbeknownst to them, Jon had recorded their dance, along with their previous and present interactions of that night. He thought for a second to use it as blackmail material but decided to just send it off anyways. Oh the chaos it caused.

[potter-imagines]

A Worm? - Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader 

Prompt: It’s three in the morning and Fred can’t sleep. Luckily for him, his girlfriend has to most random questions on her mind. 

Notes: I've seen this on tiktok as trend to text your boyfriend so I made it into a write, hope you enjoy (: 

Warnings: None (:        (making out if that counts ???)

Word Count: 3.9k

You know that feeling of finally retreating to your room and crashing down on your bed after a strenuous day? Getting to snuggle into the warmth of the soft mattress and engulf your body in massive heaps of blankets, it was one of the greatest feelings in the world to Fred Weasley. Although what made it absolute perfection was the nights when his girlfriend, Y/n Y/l/n, would join him. Sleepovers were no rarity for the couple- nor for their roommates who had begrudgingly accepted the constant giggling and whispering throughout the night. Weekend sleepovers were his favorite as it meant neither of them were scrambling to get out of bed for class in the morning and he could lay with her for as long as they wanted.

Tonight was no different. Nearly every living soul occupying the lands of Hogwarts was fast asleep, lulled into a galaxy of dreams. Fred wondered if he was the only one awake at such an hour. The darkness from the nighttime sky poured into the room through the glass windows. The light casted shadows around the room making it difficult to make out the different shapes. Fred could barely make out the sleeping frame of his twin brother, George, who was tucked in his bed feet away. Similar was Lee, however his thunderous snores echoed off the walls giving confirmation that was in a deep sleep.

On Fred’s half of the room the silence was deafening. Lee’s snores had become second nature for Fred to block out and in all honesty, didn’t bother him much. Growing up in a home with eight other people, he had that keen ability to muffle out the noise around him. He had to in order to keep a piece of his sanity intact. No one in their sane mind could sit and listen to Ron and Ginny bicker for longer than five minutes before wanting to rip their hair out of their skull. In the same way, noise was comforting to Fred. Yeah, he ignored it for the most part, but it was a familiar feeling to be surrounded by loudness. It was discomforting in a way how still the world felt. Few and far between were the moments when Fred had time to himself. Now that he did, he didn’t want it.

Stealing a glance down to his chest Fred smiled at the sight. Y/n’s head was pressed against his sweatshirt covered chest and her hand was clenched around the material. Her body was cuddled close to him with a blanket draped over them. Fred watched as her stomach lightly rose and fell with every breath. He had lost track of time, not entirely sure how long he had been holding her. Seconds meshed into minutes which grew to hours. He was sure he’d been staring at the ceiling for almost three hours. His attention flipped back and forth, like the pages of a magazine. From the angle he laid, Fred wasn’t able to see if Y/n was awake like him or passed out like his roommates. In a cruel way he wanted to wake her on purpose just for the selfish purpose to hear her voice. He resisted the urge to ‘accidentally’ break her slumber.

Fred’s hand traced patterns on her back absentmindedly as his thoughts drifted like a sailboat floating along the ocean waves. The Quidditch match had taken a large toll on his muscles and all he wanted was to rest. Playing Slytherin was a sure guarantee someone would walk away with an injury- or be carried away. Although Fred knew he wasn’t injured, his arms ached with every slight move from the force he had exhilarated during the match. As much as he desired to switch positions and lay on his side, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb the girl resting in his arms. From her steady breathing he figured she had fallen asleep, that was until her head suddenly popped up from his chest causing the warmth of her head to flee his body. Her quick movement took Fred by surprise as his hand halted and his eyes fixed on the girl.  The feeling of sleepiness was fading as her large doe eyes glanced back up at him. Oddly enough, she appeared to be wide awake.

Arching a brow at her Fred looked utterly confused. If her alertness hadn’t startled him enough, her next actions would leave him mind boggled. Y/n perched herself up to a sitting position and wiggled over to place her legs over either side of Fred’s body so she sat in his lap as he laid. A childlike smile graced her lips at the small gasp of surprise from Fred. Tiredness vanished in her eyes as she tilted her head.

“Hey, Freddie?”

“Yes, angel?” He asked cautiously.

His hands reset to her waist to keep her steady as she sat. The stained glass window to the side of his bed allowed a glimpse of moonlight to create a beautiful gradient across her face. The moonlight, a glowing yellowy white, projected an ethereal glow around her. He swore he could see millions of tiny stars sprinkled along her skin, gleaming pin pricks of sparkles gleaming in her e/c eyes.

Y/n leaned forward to wrap her arms around Fred’s neck causing him to mimic her and sit up so his back was pressed to the bed frame. He grabbed the heavy cotton blanket from behind her and draped it over her shoulders. She smiled bashfully in gratitude. Peeking up to Fred, whose face was only a handful of inches from hers, she whispered,

“If I were a worm, would you still love me?”

Fred’s features scrunched in an instant at her question as he pulled back slightly. Half expecting for her to start giggling and the other half completely flabbergasted, Fred gaped at her in confusion. Yet Y/n’s face remained stoic in seriousness as she awaited his reply. He gave her a funny look, as if she’d grown an extra eye. Repeatedly his mouth fell open, then closed again as he failed to formulate a proper thought.

“I’m sorry- if you were a what?”

“A worm.” She repeated once again.

Fred forced himself to bite his tongue to hold his laughter in. As much as he wanted to chuckle at her randomness, she seemed so invested in his answer he didn’t know what to do. Fred averted his gaze to the window in search of an answer. His brain was stuck frozen, like the tracks in his mind were broken. Turning his attention once more to Y/n, Fred squinted his chocolate brown eyes as if examining her peculiarly.

“And why would you be a worm?”

Clearly annoyed by his constant string of questions Y/n let out a breathy huff as she rolled her eyes. Her hands waved up briefly, shooing his inquiry away without second thought. Shaking her head she pressed further. “Because I just am, now answer the question.”

Stillness entered the room while Fred pondered to himself. This time he didn’t hold back the teasing grin that spilled on his face.

“Well, am I worm too?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows to her suggestively. Y/n shoved his shoulder back playfully as she giggled softly. Fred always knew how to make her smile, even if the situation didn’t call for it. Even if it was three in the morning and the two of them should be flying through a dreamland of sleep.

Fred’s back leaned into the wood of the frame as he allowed his head to touch against it. Locks of ginger hair brushed against his face. Instinctively Y/n moved her hand out to skim them away from his eyes so she could see them. Fred fought a mental war against the shiver that threatened to escape his body from her gentle stroke. Shaking her head, Y/n shot down his interrogation. “No, you’re just a regular person.”

“So I would be a Muggle in love with a worm?” Fred chuckled at the bizarreness to her rules for her imaginary prompt. Although he hadn't a clue where this was heading, it was entertaining and he had every intention of paying into it, including teasing the girl a tad. There was something so adorable about the flashes of anger and frustration that snapped across her face at his procrastination to answer. Fred found it irresistible. The way her cute face knotted into uncomfortable glares and frowns while he continued to toy with her. He loved it.

Y/n sighed to herself, certainly growing exhausted then reiterated,

“No, no, you’re still you, I’m just a worm.”

“A magic worm?” His eyes widened in feign excitement while her’s narrowed. As much as she loved the childlike nature that was weaved into her boyfriend’s soul, it made it impossible at times to have a serious conversation- not that she truly considered this to be a serious conversation.

A deadpan mien was planted on her face. She turned for a moment to make sure George and Lee were still passed out. Then, she moved her head back to Fred before raising her voice a notch to ensure the message was received loud and clear.

“A worm, Fred.”

His fingers fiddled with the loose strings on her shorts as he pretended to debate his answer. Lips pursed into a thin line, Fred brought his pointer finger up to his chin and hummed.

“I mean… sure?”

Y/n’s grip around his neck loosened immediately at his answer. Her mouth skimmed the ground as genuine displeasure entered her veins. She pulled her arms back to cross them tightly against her chest. Fred’s hands found their previous position on her waist in order to keep her from falling off. She pouted over to Fred with her bottom lip poking out. She tried her absolute best to put everything she had into the over dramatic sad puppy look she had mastered. Fred only cooed at her and pinched the skin of her cheeks between his fingers lightly. Y/n grabbed his hand, pulling it away from her face with a scowl. Despite her glowering appearance, Fred felt a smug grin sneaking up.

“That isn't reassuring at all.” She said with a pointed tone.

Fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose, Fred groaned dramatically as he ran his calloused hand against his skin. Peering up to Y/n he brought his hand up to occupy the warm skin on the back of her neck. He drew his hand closer, pulling her towards him, causing their foreheads connected in a tender touch. The bottom hem of his old tee that she now used as a nighttime shirt tickled his arm as she happily leaned in. With their faces barely an inch apart, Fred lifted his hips to place a sweet, chaste kiss to her lips.

“But angel, you’re not a worm.”  

“Just pretend!” She grumbled. Although Fred smirked right at her and, in a very snarky manner, said ‘no’. Y/n clenched her jaw in annoyance at his stubbornness and just as she went to tell him again to play along, a light bulb of an idea sparked in her head.

Stealing a glance over either shoulder, Y/n checked to assure both George and Lee were still snoozing. George was practically laying off his bed in a sideways fashion while Lee was spreading starfish across the whole mattress. She swore she could see the drool dripping from his chin from across the room. Her focus swerved to Fred as she felt him adjust under her. Providing him with absolutely no leeway to her plan at all, Y/n locked her arms around Fred’s chest and shoved him down so he was forced to lay on the bed. His breath hitched as his head smacked into the fluffy pillow. The darkness obscured his view leaving him lost at the turn of events until he felt the pressure of her knees pinning his arms to his side. Just like a war attack, she ambushed him. Y/n danced her fingers at lightning speed across his chest and under his arms. Fred broke out into a booming fit of laughter at the abrupt tickle war imposed on him as he desperately fought to get her body off of his. His feet kicked wildly as he tried to free himself but she had too strong of a hold. Fred tried to hold his laughter back but it was all too much for his bdy to handle and the uncontrollable giggles wouldn’t stop.

Y/n laughed at him as she continued to tickle every inch of his upper body that he wasn’t successfully covering. His frantic squirms made it difficult for her to torture him to the best of her ability, however she put up a considerable fight until Fred managed to slip his hand out from between his waist and her knee. Once he did, Fred clamped his hand to her side and flipped the pair around so he was the one sitting on top of her. Both of their chests heaved rapidly as they attempted to catch their breath, both grinning like fools. Fred moved his body to sit in front of her as Y/n took over his previous spot. His hand still remained clenched around her side to keep her from attacking once more. Struggling to regain his composure, Fred gave the girl a teasing glare.

“Fine! Yes, I would still love you very much, even if you were a slimy little worm.”

A satisfied gleam adorned her face as she gave a small cheer. Her arms extended as a welcoming for him to enter. He bent towards her to allow her arms to be thrown around his shoulders. The hug encapsulated his body in a blanket of comfort and love from the feeling of her skin. Fred pressed his lips to her neck and just as he did, her voice broke the air.

“And you’d still give me kisses and cuddles?”

His loud sigh was audible to everyone in the room as his head fell to her chest.

“How in the bloody hell am I supposed to cuddle a freaking worm-” Before he could finish his sentence, Fred saw the look of sadness clouding over his lover’s features and stopped himself. That famous, moody pout had crept its way up and Fred fell victim like always. He reached his hand out to pick hers up from her lap and laced their fingers. Lifting her hand, his lips kissed each of her knuckles then set her hand down on his leg.

“You’re unbelievable… but yes, I would still give you kisses and cuddles. Just not in front of people-” Y/n snatched her hand away from his and threw it across her chest with an animated scoff.

“So you’d be ashamed of me?”

“I hate you so much right now, why the hell are you even asking me?”

The jokingness of the situation breezed out from the room as Y/n tensed. Fred watched her eyes flicker from over his shoulder, then up to his eyes. It was impossible to read the rambunctious ideas bouncing off the walls of her mind and Fred knew better than to speculate but rather give her the time to process. He always said that her mind ran faster than the Hogwarts Express. There was a small smile on her lips, though one he couldn’t read. The spark of glee still flashed through her yet at the same time she seemed uncertain. Her hand pushed loose strands of her hair away from her view, a nervous habit of her’s Fred had picked up on early in the relationship.

Swallowing her nerves, Y/n let her body sink into the plushness of Fred’s bed as she shrugged her shoulders.

“Just wanna make sure you’d love me no matter what.” She mumbled hushly.

Fred furrowed his eyebrows as he studied her in bewilderment. As silly as the conversation was, he could feel a tang of guilt budding in his gut from teasing her. The two had discussed some of the most random, weird topics out there and it was usually just that, a random discussion. Fred was a bit stunned there was a bubble floating around in her thoughts that there might be a time where he stops loving her, because for Fred, the idea of not loving her was simply implausible. Besides, he had fancied her since they met their first year and there was no chance Fred was willing to lose her.

“Okay, well,” Fred crawled to sit next to Y/n’s side as he went on, “I’ll entertain the thought. If you were a worm I would still love you more than any other living creature on this planet. I’d also protect you from all the birds who want to eat you for dinner.” Fred finished by placing a gentle peck to her nose. There was no sense in hiding the contagious grin

“So sweet, Freddie.” The scent of peppermint from her chapstick wafted to Fred’s nose drawing him closer in. Y/n snaked her hand to his cheek and dragged his face towards hers. Right before their lips connected, she paused for a moment. Her e/c orbs flickered to his plump lips, then in one swift motion, she closed the gap with a pucker of her lips and a collision with his. Fred had expected the kiss but was taken aback by the fire she brought to it. The sheer force of her lips caused Fred to sit up and take notice.

Y/n nudged at his side, a silent signal for him to get on top. Fred didn’t need her to ask him twice. He was quick to kick the blankets covering his legs and repositioned himself between hers. Fred leaned forward to spark the flint once again. His hands attached to her face immediately as he pulled her in tightly. This embrace nearly knocked Y/n right off the bed. She parted her lips and felt him washing over like a tsunami of passion, curling her toes, unfurling all her senses as the taste of him impaired her. Her whole body tingled, the pressure of his fram leaning on hers as his arms wrapped around her felt like an array of fireworks during the finale of a grand show. Her lips parted against his and the abrupt swipe of his tongue inside her cheeks sent a rush of shivers through her body. The intensity was overwhelming as she struggled to keep hold of his shoulders.

Y/n came to at the need for air and pulled away from Fred. A sharp breath filled her lungs as her hands pressed against his chest keeping him in place. However, Fred was growing impatient by the second and the need to be as close to her as possible was too strong of an urge for him to ignore.

Fred pulled her in, claiming her mouth again, hungry and intense, until her arms gave in and she was using his body to support herself. She was nearly slipping from the bed from the pure force of his kiss. Fred kept his free hand steady on the back of her neck to ensure she wouldn’t fall but in the moment, she really couldn’t care. Wasn’t like they hadn’t had a makeout session on the floor- come to think of it, George had walked in on them just last week.  

Their hands roamed over each other as if it was their first time touching another. His fingertips grazed the side of her neck earning a muffled moan from the girl. She tugged at his red hair, which was a guarantee to keep his adrenaline pumping. A vibration buzzed in her mouth as Fred groaned into her from the lustful pain. His body was ever moving as his hips grinded into her. This was a familiar position yet the passion was what made the kiss so electrifying. His elbows were placed on either side of her head to hold himself up as he moved his lips against hers and continued to work his tongue with hers. Y/n trailed her hand down from his fiery locks to his sharp chin where she pressed his lips as deeply into hers as she could manage.

Softly as possible, Y/n slowly pulled herself away from Fred. His eyes cracked open at the lost of warmth against his skin and he glanced down at her. Both smiled at each other until Fred rolled over and slid under the covers. He fixed the blankets around until he felt satisfied then opened his arms, as if inviting Y/n to enter. She obeyed without question and coozied herself into his arms. He wrapped her in a loving cuddle as he pressed a quick kiss to her temple.

Y/n leaned into his body, resting her head against his arm that was linked under her. There was a comforting silence that replaced the steaming air. The clock on Fred’s night stand shone bright with the time, ‘4:08am’, meaning morning had practically arrived and Fred had yet to catch a wink of sleep.

Just as Fred was preparing himself to welcome his slumber, a notion came. Propping himself up on his elbow, Fred reached out to shake the girl’s shoulder.

“Hey, Y/n?”

Y/n gleaned over to him in curiosity. Twisting her body she set her gaze directly on Fred, as if to show him she was intune and listening.

“Yes?”

“If I were a worm, would you still love me?” Fred asked in a whisper. Y/n leered up at him in a disgusted fashion. It looked as if she had been force fed a full can of lima beans and sardines. Those sleepy eyes were replaced by saucer like eyes of revulsion. Poking her tongue out she pretended to gag as her eyes twisted shut.

“Ew, no, why would I be in love with a worm? You can’t even talk and if I kissed you, I might accidentally kiss your butt, gross!” Y/n covered her mouth to mask her fit of laughter that shook through her chest. Fred’s mouth dropped in shock at her words as she unwrapped herself from his hold to shift to her side. He stared at her in astonishment as she threw her legs over the side of his bed. His hand reached out to yank her back but she was already up on her feet smirking to him.

“Are you kidding me? Get back here!”

“I need to use the bathroom- I’ll be back in a flash, wormie.” She blew him a taunting kiss and a wave, then quietly shut the door as she journeyed down the hall to the restrooms. Fred still heard her unruly laughter from behind the large wooden door. As her footsteps grew shallower, Fred tossed his head into the pillow and rolled his eyes. Just like earlier, silence overtook the room and this time, Fred was overjoyed because it meant he no longer had to hear about worms. That was at least until she got back, then he’d surely be having a discussion.

[ahtsumu]

vignettes from a simple and good life ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: a year in review.

tag(s): fluff ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, kinda bad but i tried LOL ; wc: 1.3k

a/n: happy birthday to @bbytetsu​ ​! ik i said i wouldn’t write anything but i’m a woman of my own word. also sorry this isn’t geto LOL. anyway this is kinda different from anything i’ve ever done but i hope you like it! love u

1.

he walks past you and suddenly the world’s aflame.

“um,” you stutter, turning around with wide eyes. “excuse me?”

cool grey irises hold your gaze expectantly.

he’s gorgeous.

“i–” you falter. there’s no way you can describe the feeling that made you turn around. the gravitational pull that sometimes occurs between strangers. perhaps the clever tugging of two red strings. separate melodies that converge at whim on a concord. it’s all so abstract, but that’s what you’re good at.

to your surprise, he just smiles. “same.”

2.

learning miya osamu is like learning to whistle: either you get it or you don’t.

you get it.

you get that he’s not at all the serious, stony-faced man he makes himself out as. that he’s hot-headed and petty but doesn’t want to be. that just because he’s not laughing doesn’t mean he’s not amused.

miya osamu is the dead of night and all the mischief that happens during it.

3.

seven a.m. is too early. osamu isn’t sure how he used to get up even earlier for morning practice, but then he remembers that that was when he loved volleyball. either way, it’s seven a.m. and for some god-forsaken reason, miya osamu is going on a hike.

(god-forsaken is a bit dramatic. it’s not all that bad – he’s just grumpy in the morning. actually, to think of it, it’s not bad at all…)

“one cappuccino," he tells the barista. and then his eyes widen. smiling, he adds, “and a matcha latte, please.”

4.

it dawns upon you in the passenger seat of his car.

“what?” he asks, feeling your eyes on him as he drives.

“… nothing.”

“tell me,” he laughs, squeezing your hand with his free one.

“later,” you promise, feeling giddy with realization.

osamu hums, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

5.

the light from his laptop illuminates osamu’s darkened bedroom, bathing both of you in a subtle blue glow. osamu looks down at your body tucked into his side and smiles. he whispers your name. “are you awake?”

there’s no reply – just the steady stream of your shallow breaths.

maybe you hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the middle of your movie night but now that you have, osamu doesn’t have the heart to wake you. it’s late, it’s still a little cold outside at night, and it’s not like you’re busy tomorrow morning…

and maybe he doesn’t want you to go. carefully, osamu shifts around to make you both comfortable, slings an arm over your waist, and closes his eyes.

you wake up to the smell of breakfast and the swingy tune of twenties jazz.

6.

how do you know it’s love?

you tell him that he feels like a soft blanket and a rollercoaster ride at the same time.

he laughs and grabs your hand, placing it on his chest right where his heart is.

“that’s how i know,” he says.

7.

when you step into his apartment, the first thing you notice is the mouthwatering scent floating out of the kitchen.

“babe?” you call out.

a muffled “kitchen!” reaches your ears.

the kitchen’s a mess of ingredients. and in the middle of the mess is your boyfriend. lo and behold, miya osamu is yet again experimenting with new recipes for onigiri miya, mixing potential fillings in a large metal bowl, wearing the “kiss the chef” apron you bought him a while back. he takes a bite of the stuff on his spoon and looks up at the ceiling in thought. not a single muscle in his face twitches, probably because he isn’t sure what to think of it.

you clear your throat. “hey, you.”

smiling, osamu spins around. “hi, angel. can you taste this and tell me whatcha think?” he spoons out some more of the mixture in the bowl, holding it out for you to try.

“sure,” you say, and you ignore the spoon, pressing your lips to osamu’s for a kiss instead. when you pull away, you lick your lips and hum. “needs more salt.”

the grin on his face is absolutely charmed. “i thought so, too.”

8.

what most people get wrong about miya osamu is that he doesn’t talk much.

he does.

(“and i told her she had the wrong place, but that woman just wouldn’t leave,” he complains, pacing around your living room with so much force that you think you might have to check on the rug once he’s gone. “held up the entire line, too. so embarrassin’. and then she said she’d leave us a one-star review, which is ridiculous because it’s not like i could make her a burrito, right? jesus. so i told her to go fu–”

“babe,” you laugh, pulling him gently towards the sofa.

osamu sits down beside you and inhales deeply. “so i tell her to go fuck herself–” he pauses when your hand runs through his jet black hair. seconds later, you feel his firm body melt against your arms.

“well, go on,” you say with a giggle. “what happened after?”)

osamu just doesn’t talk to most people.

9.

and when he isn’t talking, he’s thinking.

“i saw something funny earlier. if you were a tortured poet,” you ask on the walk home, “what would be the cringey quote people know you for?”

osamu raises his brows and looks up at the sky. “hmm,” he says, grinning. the two of you continue walking as he mulls over your question. a few minutes later, he says, “take not my silence for a lack of thought. i am always thinking. i am haunted by the magnitude of thoughts i can never put to spoken word.”

you stop in your tracks. “that was actually good,” you say in disbelief. “what the hell? ‘magnitude’? seriously?”

he shrugs and slings an arm over your shoulder. “i’ve been readin’ lately. forbes said somethin’ about good leaders readin’ books’.”

“are you actually haunted, though? ‘cause you can always tal–”

“no,” osamu laughs. “i like my thoughts. and if i really like ‘em, i just say ‘em. it’s a simple and good life.”

10.

“you’re beautiful,” he breathes, pressing kisses up your neck.

the air’s thick with tension and want and he needs to be closer – he needs every inch of your bare skin touching his and even then that wouldn’t be close enough.

but it’d be a great place to start.

“god, you’re so beautiful.”

11.

when he steps into your bedroom, you don't even notice.

“hey,” osamu says, knocking on the door.

jumping in your seat, you whip your head around to face the intruder. “you scared me,” you sigh.

“i texted you this morning and it’s almost midnight now,” he says, frowning. “had me worried.” osamu walks to your desk and observes your work over your shoulder.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, tilting your head back against his chest. “this is due soon and i lost track of time. i’ve been at this since midnight last night.”

osamu’s frown deepens. “what?” he spins you around in your chair and studies your face with disbelief. but seeing the bags under your eyes and frazzled hair, he suddenly completely believes you. of course you’d procrastinate for days and then work yourself to the bone.

his firm hands find your shoulders and squeeze. “take a break.”

“‘samu–”

“or at least let me give you a little massage.”

12.

“when i stopped you in the street,” you say, “what was going through your mind?”

osamu laughs, the light sound melting into the mellow atmosphere of the restaurant. “nothing. absolutely nothing.”

“how romantic.”

“for the first time in my life,” he says, grey eyes twinkling, “my head went silent.”

he raises his glass of wine and takes a sip.

[xxxtrouvaillexxx]

Let’s Strike a Deal

A/N: This is late, I know. If you have not realized from before, I’m really bad at meeting deadlines. Well, at least deadlines that I’ve created for myself to follow because I like to procrastinate things and frankly… what am I gonna do to myself? Band myself from tea until I’ve written a chapter? I don’t have the self control for that! And life is hectic. But you know, enough with my excuses and onto the story. Hope you enjoy. I always love feedback so please be sure to leave a comment! ALSO I wanted to give a TRY (key word) to first person. If I don’t like it... I might change it, idk. I should never write anything at 3am as per evidence below, especially without editing lmao

Pair: CEO!Tom x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N, the small town of Hawkshead girl trying to make her way in the big city of Westminster, London. Not as easy as she thought. When things start to take a turn for the worst one afternoon and only one man in the crowd of hundreds decides to help her, she does something rather uncharacteristic and gives her savor her number in case he could ever use help of his own. Course, she never expected for him to actually call her out on it.

Masterlist

Warning(s): none… yet. Cursing?

Word Count:

My time was limited. There was nothing left that had to be done here or anything left to pack. Everything I’ve ever owned sat in a car on the way to my new apartment and last of the suitcases were in the bed of my brothers pickup at this very moment while I sat on the floor of my room. There wasn’t anything left for me here, I knew that, but it was still difficult to say goodbye to the place that carried so many of my favorite memories and the imprints of my childhood that still were splayed around the surrounding room.

There were two dents in the wall right in front of me from when I was ten and hit my head after tripping on one of my toys, thumbtack holes that littered everywhere above the bed from forts that I would make with my brothers and friends, nail polish that was spilled on the carpet from times when I was too distracted with talking than keeping the bottle up straight, my engraved initials on the windowsill. The memories that I had made in this room were countless and they were all absolutely priceless.

“Y/N!” I heard your mother call from the living room, her voice was slightly hoarse from held back emotion and it broke my heart to hear her like that. “You got to get going, dear! You’ll miss your train if you wait much longer to head out.”

Taking a deep breath and slowly standing from the, now old, bed I made my way toward the door, feet dredging behind me and scuffing the floor as I walked out. “I know, Mama. I’m just-” the words caught in my throat and I was at a loss. “I’m really going to miss you guys so much.”

“Oh stop it, you’re gonna make me cry if you keep on like that,” She said giving a tight hug before pushing me out the front door. “You are going to love it in London so much you’re not even gonna be thinking about us here, so get goin’. Your brothers already waiting for you in the car.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her antics, “I love you Mama! I’ll call you when I get there!”

Jumping into the passenger seat of the truck, I waved final goodbyes from the window, dramatically blowing kisses as the car started to drive away.

“You better!” She exclaimed, watching as we pulled out and down the road.

“She is going to be a mess when I get back home. I can’t believe you’re going to leave me to deal with that alone!” Christian, stuck driving you to the train station much to his dismay, gave you a mocking glare. “After all the things I’ve done for your, this is how you choose to repay me? I’m pretty sure I’m getting the short end of the stick here,” he laughed humorlessly.

“Ahhh~” I cooed and smiled, “You’re only saying that cause you know you guys’ are going to be missing me so much!”

“Miss you?” He scoffed, “Yeah right. What we’re going to be missing is your baking. It’ll be the greatest blow our family has faced since 1824.”

I gave a scathing look, “And what, if I may ask, happened in 1824?”

“Don’t know, but something bad probably.”

»»-——————————————-««

I have never been so sore getting off of a bus in her life. The cheapest route to get to Westminster from Hawkshead was a train and 8 bus stops, totaling up to 10 or so hours in and out of vehicles. I groaned and stretched when my feet planted on hard asphalt for the first time in what seemed like forever. But, for all the soreness, I had made it to my destination with time to spare.

It was louder than I had imagined, crowded with traffic from all directions and people running any which way to get on with their lives. It was bustling and busy. Lively. Not exactly what I was used to which made me smile. 

Wide.

I made it. 

I only had a suitcase with me, the rest of her belongings would be delivered in a few days to the new apartment. 

My apartment. 

I was positively giddy at the thought. 

It took a lot of self control to keep from skipping down the side walks while I somehow navigated the new scenery, but I managed to keep my excitement under wraps for the time being. Arriving an hour early gave me a bit of time to take in the bigger sites near by, like the Ferris wheel, the clock tower Big Ben, and my personal favorite- Westminster Palace and abbey. It was a dream of mine since I was little to see it in person, and now here I was standing mere blocks away from the grand building, elated and amazed. 

Vibrating caught my attention and I barely managed to turn my eyes away from the sites in front of me to my phone, Kyra’s name popping up on the screen. My best friend and now room mate, Kyra Bardou, who was probably wondering where the hell I was now. 

“Hey,” I drawled with an obvious grin I couldn’t even hide in my voice. 

“Hey yourself! I’ve been waiting at the stop for 15 minutes with no sign of you only to learn you’re already in town and didn’t even bother to tell me!” She spoke so quickly I was shocked she didn’t run out of breath and laughed. 

“I’m site seeing, sue me!” I turned and started making the slow walk back, “I’ll be back in a couple minutes, I promise.”

She only grunted in response and let me walk in a comfortable silence, letting me continue to take everything in while simply enjoying her presence on the line. It was the last few moments I’d get now, the last bits of my old life slipping through my fingers like sand in exchange for a new one. 

And the chaos that comes with a big city. 

Like robbers. 

I couldn’t even let out a cry as I was shoved to the ground, my phone forced from my hand and my suitcase caught up in a strange mans arms. It took me a whole 5 seconds to get my bearings enough to yell at the man and give chase, shouting for help though no one so much as looked our way, just moved out of his. 

“Stop!” I screamed, running but quickly losing him as he bobbed and weaved through the crowd skillfully. “Stop! Someone stop him!”

And this time, someone moved to action, running past me at an alarming rate and quickly gaining ground on my assailant before they both rounded a corner and I lost sight of them. 

My heart dropped and I picked up speed again, hoping that I didn’t let them get far enough away for me to lose them completely, it would have been easy for them to get away from me here.

But when I turned around the block, I found the man on the ground with the track star of a man on top of him, already on the phone with I assume the police. I finally caught up to them and without thinking, hugged the man on the phone, a silent thank you while he spoke to whoever was on the line, before I gathered my things and hugging them close to me. 

He smiled kindly, finishing the call and turning to me properly while still pinning the thief to the ground. “Are you alright miss?”

“Yes! Thank you so much, I’d have been completely lost without this,” I gestured to my luggage. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me get it back. I don’t even know how to get around town yet.”

He laughed and nodded. “So new to town then. It was my pleasure to help, though I was really just doing what anyone in my position would do,” he responded kindly.

Furiously I shook my head, “No, you didn’t. I don’t believe I saw a single soul other than you move to help. Unless you did but beat them to it at the last minute. Not that that it implausible, you are seriously fast on your feet.” 

He laughed again and I noticed what a nice laugh he had, it was contagious and I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of my own now that my adrenaline was fading bit by bit. “Yes, well- I do enjoy the sport.”

“Dually noted,” I grinned, jumping a little when my phone started to buzz in my hands. Kyra’s name popping up on the screen again. “Shoot!” I exclaimed and answered. I wasn’t even able to put the phone to my ear before I heard her shouting my name on the line. “Kyra-”

“Oh my god, Y/N! What the heck happened, I heard you shout and then the line went dead! Are you okay? Did something happen? Where are you?” She was speaking so loudly I had to hold the phone away from my ear a safe distance as she spouted one question after another at me without reprieve. 

My rescuer across from me chuckled, overhearing my frantic friend. “I’m fine, someone tried to steal my stuff on my way to meet you. Luckily someone came along and helped me catch him, otherwise I’d have lost everything. But everything is okay now, we are-” I looked around and realized I have no idea where we were. 

He seemed to catch on to my newest distress and whispered, “Tell them we are on the corner of Tufton and Bennett’s Yard.”

I nodded and mouthed a thank you, “ Tufton and Bennett’s Yard,” I repeated and she said she’d be here in a 10 minutes and to sit and wait before hanging up the phone. 

I slouched on the wall of some building, letting myself relax. “Not to be repetitive or anything, but thank you.”

He just shook his head, “No need. You’re friend sounded pretty worried about you, it wouldn’t do well to let her stew in that worry longer than needed.”

“Yeah, it’s been a few years since we last saw each other. She’d be pretty upset if something bad happened before I could even move in,” I laughed, though it didn’t quite sound right even to my ears. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” I introduced and stuck my hand out. 

He took it and gave a firm shake, “Tom. It’s a pleasure to meet you Y/N. Even in these less than optimal circumstances.” 

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.”

“Y/N!” Someone yelled, and we both turned our heads to see Kyra sprinting full speed around her car and at me. I stood and braced myself for the collision of her, and fell back against the wall with the force of her body. 

“Holy shit, girl! You scared the hell outta me, you could have died! This is why I told you to call me when you first got into town, you always manage to get yourself into trouble like this. What would I have told your parents if something happened, huh? Huh!?”

I grinned and pulled back to get a proper look at her. Her black hair, normally frizzy was sticking out in every direction and her honeyed eyes wide as she scanned me over, running her hands over my arms for injuries. “I’m fine, Kyra. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, you’re right.”

“I know I’m right!” She shot back with a glare, “That doesn’t make me feel any better!”

“Well, there is a first for everything after all.”

Tom laughed hard at our back and forth, making us both jump a little and look down at him. Before I could even say anything, Kyra was down on his level with the thieves shirt in her fists and a scowl that would scare the devil himself on her face. 

“Is this the bastard that did this?” 

“Let go!” I shrieked and pulled her off, albeit with a little effort. “Tom called the cops and they’ll deal with this properly. Not you,” I said sternly. She just let out a huff of a response and pushed herself back enough to look at Tom properly. 

She gave him a once over and held her scowl in place, “So you’re the one who saved Y/N/N?”

He gave a small, hesitant nod and gave me a nervous glance. I just laughed and stood back up, as Kyra launched forward to give him a hug. “Thank you,” she murmured a few times and pulled back. 

“No worries,” he said, and looked far less distressed now that Kyra didn’t look like she wanted to gut him. “I was there at the right time is all.”

“Yes, well- That doesn’t mean what you did was anything less than amazing. My whole life is in that bag and in that phone at the moment. Seriously, if there is anything I can do for you in return it’s yours. Ice cream, some roller skates, a kidney. Just ask.”

Everyone laughed at that and he nodded with an obviously sarcastic “sure”, just as the police arrived to take the culprit and our statements. Kyra mumbled something about them being slow and went to the car for a few minutes to be out of the way. 

15 minutes later, everything was settled and they took the man away. Leaving Tom and I alone on the side walk again while I settled everything in my case to be sure I didn’t miss anything and quickly scribbled on a stray notecard. 

“I meant it when I said I owe you one,” I said and handed the card with my name and number to him. “Just give me a ring if I can ever be of any help at all and I’ll come running. Though, probably much slower than you did.”

He tried to decline the offer only once, but after some persistence he took it with another smile, “Thank you, Y/N. Hopefully this will not be our last meeting. And hopefully never again under such pressing circumstances,” he held out his hand, and I took it, returning his earlier shake with a firm one of my own and I agreed. 

“Until next time then,” he said and left. 

I barely was able to take my seat in the car before Kyra grasped my arm with a devious smile, “Y/N/N- Did you just give that guy your number?” My silence was answer enough and she laughed, “Girl! No way!”

No way was right, I thought with a small smile of my own as we pulled away and started home.

»»-——————————————-««

TAGS: open 

@drakesfiance @dumbgopher1​ @kewlbeans-22​​

[najatheangel]

𝐌𝐲 ��𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞

pairing: Lee donghyuck x reader (ft. nct members)

genre: fluff, angst, comedy and spice.

inspired song: Bestie by Lloyd.

summary: donghyuck’s and his s/o memories as best friends leading up to becoming lovers. (btw this one’s a little longer than the ones i usually write so beware loves.)

Haechan’s POV: June, 24th, 2018. “Today’s the day where I finally tell her how I feel. After 7 years of my friendship, growing up together and holding back my feelings for so long, Today is the day where things change. I’m tired of being stuck in the friend zone this is my one and only chance before she moves away. Now or Never Hyuck...”

“She's a bad one not a fast one. Every time we get together we have fun”

Growing up, me and y/n always were always bound to be apart of each other’s lives. We’ve grew up in the same neighborhood, our parents met each other in school, our friends are dating each other and we even go to the same school together. Sounds very corny right? It’s true though.

Our thing was always playing horror games together every night after we finish doing homework together. She was always the procrastinator so I had to give her some motivation. Not only that, we always play around the swing sets in the park that’s right in front of our houses to talk about anything and everything that was going on in our life’s.

This one time she got so drunk after Mark’s birthday party and was trying to swing so high and flew off the swing set thinking she was super man. Heh, she can be such a idiot at times. She may be one of the goofiest, bubbly and sweetest people I know. She can also be caring, overprotective and keep me calm whenever I’m always acting crazy.

I don’t remember what exact moment I feel in love with you, but I do remember feeling like as time went by, my love for you stared to grow much stronger. Everyone around us was starting to suspect how we felt about it each other especially my mom she adored you so much and loved the idea of us being together.

She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.

She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.

She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.

She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.

Once we’ve started getting much older I've tried dating other girls but none of them just didn’t compare to you. I’ve tried to joke around with them, they wouldn’t take me seriously. When I try to ask them out on dates, they would ditch me for someone else. When I try to be affectionate, they reject and always want to stay friends. I normally had luck keeping girls around, but only for a short amount of time. It seemed like every week I had a new girlfriend.

I knew y/n was always frustrated at me trying to tell me there’s other fish in the sea, but hell I want to my little mermaid and that’s y/n-ie. I even teased her about it, but she didn’t seem to take a hint.

“You know y/n... we should honestly just date. We would be the next Hyuna and Edawn in the school. They would have nothing on us.” I even nudged her on the shoulder to get her smiling.

“Hmm? Are you insane that would be too weird. We’re like brother and sister.” I could tell she was flustered, but she wasn’t exactly to thrilled with the idea. “Plus you know how I feel about Mark already. I’ve got to really wow him at this game tonight.” Oh yeah I forgot to mention she had a crush on my other best friend Mark Lee at the time.

“I know she should just be my friend Yet I'm hoping, I'm hoping that maybe it will lead In love happy end.”

It would work my nerves every time she would talk about him and always would ask advice on what to do, but I was very hopeful and believed I still had to chance to win her heart. I gush to everyone including the boys everyday about how madly in love I was with y/n without even realizing.

I would tell everyone, well except her of course. Johnny almost told my secret to everyone at Jaehyun’s house party when we were all playing strip uno. It was shut down real quickly because Doyoung gave him a long hard talk after awhile.

That night was also the worst for me because that was the same days the homecoming game where you confessed your feelings to Mark and became officially a couple. In my mind I wanted to be happy for the two of you as I watched you two kissed each other in front of everyone.

After that day, I avoided you for a while and couldn’t accept the fact that I couldn’t have you at that very moment. I couldn’t spend more time with you, hold you, kiss you, brag to everyone how much I loved you.

Although I was torn and felt defeated when you started dating Mark, I still felt a tiny bit of hope that someday I would still have a chance to make you mine and have our happy ending.

Y/N POV: June 24th, 2018. The day that I say farewell to my best friend Lee Donghyuck before going leaving to go to Harvard. I can’t believe this day has finally come we haven’t had the chance to hang out throughout our entire senior year so I want to make this count. I also want to tell him how I’ve felt about him. Let’s see where do I even start....

“We were children when we met. Just playing house and drinking sodas at the corner store.”

I remember having a hard time making friends my family moves from city to city because of my dad career as a entrepreneur for multiple companies and my mom working as a travel nurse. I was bullied for my struggling with my weight and for being an outcast which caused a lot of depression for me.

One day I remember running away from these girls in my school because they were trying to throwing apples at me. It was they’re way of trying to help me “eat healthy.” Jokes on them I was the top runner in the track team hehe.

Anyways, I lost them for a good second until I was trapped surrounded by them at the market by my house. I almost felt at lost against the 4 girls, until this crazy guy Lee Donghyuck comes out of no where scaring them away with his Freddy Kruger mask threatening them to leave me alone or he’ll haunt them in their sleep.

I felt bad for laughing, but it was one of the most nicest thing anyone has ever done for me ever since I’ve moved to Korea. He randomly introduces himself to me and offers me to play with him for an exchange of saving my life from those bullies.

“Hey my name is Donghyuck. Those girls always find their next target to pick on, but no worries princess I’m here to protect you. Let me introduce you to my other friends.”

He reached his hand on to me and ever since I was always dragged on to his crazy adventures.

“Like a brother from another. Didn't notice all the other girls they wanted more.”

Donghyuck was pretty popular when it came to having lots of guy friends and dating even when we were kids. In 5th grade on Valentine’s I remembered his desk being flooded with chocolates and anonymous love letters stuffed in backpack.

The idea didn’t bother me at first because I saw Hyuck as my older protective brother. I even slid some letters in my self saying “Happy Valentine’s Day loser. Enjoy those kits kats!” We tend to tease each other a lot, but that’s how we showed our love to each other.

People in our class including the boys Jaemin, Chenle and Yang Yang were encouraging us to date, but we just never seemed thrilled with the idea.

“Awhh c’mon you guys would be so cute together. You guys have kissed once before anyways it’s a sign.” I remember the boys would always poke fun at us, but we both would scream.

“Ew no way! Plus that kiss didn’t count it was for a school play.”

Yet every time a guy would try to ask me out, Donghyuck would scare them away because he claims that I’m still too young to date. Smh, yeah I should’ve known that it was actually because you were jealous.

“But now look at the glow up. You're the finest thing I ever seen, but you never been more than a friend to me.”

As much as I hate to admit it, but god sometimes Donghyuck can be hot...sexy...hell good looking when he wants to be. It doesn’t help that he’s teasing me about it either.

There was this one time when we were playing Mario Karts in his room and it was on a hot summer day at the time. This guy had the nerve to take his shirt off in front of me with sweat dripping on his abs, hair slightly messy to the side, and leans back with his grey sweat pants on.

GREY SWEATS!! Like cmon. I could barely concentrate on the game after awhile admiring how painly handsome. I felt very guilty because I was still dating Mark at the time, but my mind was going 2 different directions.

“Hey y/n if your hot you can take your shirt off too. I thought my mom had the mechanic fixed the ac by now so sorry about that.” There he goes sticking his tongue out like that again. Does he have no shame.

“Umm, Hyuck I just remembered I have a test on Friday to study for. Tootles!” I knew if I would’ve stayed in his room much longer I would’ve either passed out or sink deep into his tempting body leaning against mine. It was not only the heat in the room that was driving me crazy, but my beating heart that was burning my chest.

Before I tried to leave he shut the door and pushed me against the wall staring deep into my eyes. “You know princess, we don’t have a math test Friday right? I’m in the same class as you.”

This man uggh, next he proceeds to make me look at him in the eye by lifting my chin up. “D-did I say math test, silly me. I meant biology test.” After laughing awkwardly for a while I realized he wasn’t laughing with me like he usually does. It was like the vibe changed in a matter of 5 sec.

“Listen y/n...I know your dating Mark and all, but would it be wrong to just let me hold you one last time.” Yeah it would be awful, especially when your still technically half naked in front of me.

I’ve never even gotten close to kissing Mark before, yet my friend of 6 years is going to do it. So I had to run out of there before things got worse. “I-I can’t do that Hyuck. You know that wouldn’t be right. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“I'm thinking that one day you'll be mine. And I don't wanna lose you.”

I ran home as fast as I can hyperventilating before I let myself caught any feelings. The truth was for awhile I only wanted to date Mark to try to forget about Hyuck, but after that night I’ve started to realize that I can’t escape my feelings that I have for him it’s impossible.

I love him more than anyone in this world. The thought of that saying had me laughing and crying that night.

June 26th, the day Donghyuck will have one last chance to confess his feelings before his princess y/n leaves off to go to school. Y/N and Donghyuck both run out of each other’s house and decided to meet up at the swing set after 6 years.

They both sit down sighing looking up at the orange sunset sky that’s shinning throughout the area. The two of them slowly swing looking down at the ground waiting for the other person to speak up first.

“So...I bet you probably heard the news already huh? I’ve finally got accept to Harvard. So tomorrow I’ll be going back to my hometown to begin my semester in fall.” Donghyuck responds back by saying.

“I know, I heard from my mom. She nearly cried. You know it would’ve been nice to hear from you. I haven’t seen you since last week.” Y/n finally looks up at him with tears falling down her face.

“Hyuck I’ve been going through so much this past week. I’ve broken up with Mark, my brother was stuck in the hospital and I almost had to repeat senior year if I didn’t pass that state test. So I’m sorry I didn’t contact you lately.”

Hyuck quickly stands up and hugs y/n gently by stroking her hair. “It would’ve been nice to hear your voice. I miss you and I love you.”

They both freeze up at the words he just said “Y-you what now?” Hyuck gulps at first, but then he snaps out of it ready to pour his heart out.”

“LISTEN PRINCESS I LOVE YOU OKAY?? Not just as a friend either. This whole year I never got to hang out with you and I don't know how to pretend, I hate falling in love with my best friend. That night you left my room I almost gave up on us, but I knew I had to tell you before you walk out of my life. Talk about bad timing right?”

Y/N starts giggling wiping her tears for a split second but then smiles by saying.

“I love you too Donghyuck. I have for a long time actually I just didn’t want to ruin my one and only specially friendship I had with you. I was even thinking that trying to move on by dating someone else would work, but it didn’t. Without you in my life, I am blue as the sky.”

The two of you of crack up laughing again at your embarrassing thoughts of each other, but immediately stop trying to think of what should happen next.

“We’re truly some idiots. Now we only have a few hours left of being a couple before you leave. So what happens next y/n?”

Y/n sits on Hyuck’s lap hugging him tightly and leans into his face by saying. “No worries we’ll figure this out once I move. For right now let’s just enjoy our last few hours together as a couple.”

Hyuck wraps arms around y/n waist and feels his heart skipping a beat once she starts kissing him softly in his ear. “Princess you know I’m very ticklish right there.” Ignoring his comments y/n proceeds to kiss his ear again, but then starts trailing down to his neck.

“My B-E-S-T, a true friend to me. Give me love and energy, that is what you send to me”

“Mmm keep calling me princess and I promise you I won’t be able to hold back.” He wiggles his eyebrows at your bold response and smirks by saying...

“Well what’s stoping you? We can do it right here right now on these swing sets.” He starts sliding your hands in your thighs while finally kissing you on your lips.

All that built up passion and emotion was easily displayed as you were kissing him. Not to mention the fact that he’s sliding his hand in your jeans which is making it hard for you to keep your voice down.

“Ahh keep it down y/n...Do you want the neighbors to hear you?” He teases you more by moving your hand in his jeans. “Do it for me too.”

“Lee Donghyuck, are you crazy?? Why don’t we just do this in your room. We will get caught for sure.” He pouts for a second and says

“Yes I’m crazy for you. You already know this though. How about this, we can finish this in my room and we can just tell my mom we stayed up playing games again all night long. Deal?”

“Deal!” You give him one last peck on the lips and grab him by running into his house like there’s no tomorrow. “Slow down princess!” The two of you slammed the door in his room and for the whole night you never dared to leave his side for a split second.

“It's what you do to me.”

The morning after ended up becoming very emotional for the both of you, because this is the last the you’ll be seeing each other face to face until the both of you are done with school. While he’s off becoming a singer, you’ll be on your way becoming a lawyer.

Out of all the places you could possibly move away from again your home next to Donghyuck and his family was the hardest to leave from. You made so many memories here and would cherish it for the rest of your life.

Before heading the road you give your best friend and now boyfriend one last hug and kiss on the forehead before putting your last luggage in the trunk and hitting the road to start your journey.

Although your both moving on to different paths of life career wise, you both will always have your history together and promised to reunite as a couple again when the time is right.

Thanks so much for reading this far you guys and feedback would be much appreciated. ✨

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🏷 : @himitsu-luna @starrdustville @xxminmixx @dundun-baby @purplepsycho03 @kpopsnowball

Send an ask if you want to be added or removed from the tag list. 💫💫💫

[bitletsanddrabbles]

WIP Whateverday: Boyfriend Number Three

Since I’ve shared snippets from Chris’s section and Richard’s section, it seemed only fair that I share a bit from the last section - Guy’s. I just started it for procrastination (of a sort) from my main NANO piece*.

Note, while I’m sharing the fluffy bits of this, there will be some serious relationship/personal interaction sort of stuff. It somehow turned into a therapy piece for me. I may not even allow comments when I post it to Ao3...we’ll see. There’s a fine line between “Misery loves company” and “I do not want to discuss this with the internet”.

(Don’t worry - there will be no breakups or heartache! Just headache!)

...in the meantime, have Guy being a doof.

*as always, secondary goal is to actually finish something - anything! - so this still counts.

Thomas wasn’t certain how he’d gone from being Lord Grantham’s butler to being his accountant, but the change in position did have it’s advantages. The spreadsheets were much the same. He could work off location, meaning that all of his work was done from the comfort of Guy’s estate. There was no worry about his employer looking over his shoulder and breathing down his neck, he could take breaks whenever he liked…

…and there was no one to see him rubbing his temples when Lord Grantham decided to send the necessary paperwork himself instead of letting his daughter or son-in-law doing it, resulting in Thomas having the wrong information. To think, the Granthams had generously sent him to the International Butler’s Academy for this.

He had just heaved a sigh and was getting ready to send a politely worded email to Lady Mary when his phone pinged at him. “Thank God.” Reaching over, he picked it up and found a text from Guy.

It simply read, “I’m home!”

Thomas looked at the clock…and swore. Standing quickly enough he almost knocked his chair over, he turned and hurried for his coat. “So sorry. Was working and lost track of time. I’ll get a cab and be right there.” He shoved his feet in his shoes and was looking up the number for a cab when the phone actually rang. It was, naturally, Guy. “Hello,” Thomas answered, breathless even though he hadn’t gone more than five feet. “I’m coming, really, I just-”

“No need,” the cheerful voice on the other end informed him. “I’m here.”

Thomas stopped in his track. “Wait. You mean you’re home  home?”

“Surprise! Just got out of the cab. Could you come give me a hand with the bags? And maybe a kiss?”

“Be right out.” Thomas hung up and, bypassing his coat, headed for the front drive. Opening the door, he found Guy paying the driver, a small collection of three suitcases gathered around his feet. He’d left the country with two. “Guy!”

The other man looked up and smiled broadly. “Thomas! So good to see you. Did you miss me?”

Striding across the gravel, completely ignoring the cab, Thomas walked up and threw his arms around his boyfriend, pulling him into the tightest hug he could manage. “Of course I did.” He pulled back, scowling, and scolded, “But why didn’t you text me when you were landing? I’d have met you at the airport!”

“I wanted to surprise you,” Guy replied with a shrug.

[washymylifeaway]

Haikyuu fanfic recs for ones I liked hehe

EDIT: I made a pt 2

Anyway, as the title suggests, I am recommending some fanfics for popular(ish) ships that I personally really enjoyed! I’m only doing one or two fics per ship (which in hindsight is KILLING me so I’m just putting the first fics I find and am like I really liked that one LOL) because I wanted to do a shorter fic rec list (tho watch this become super long LOL). I also may or may not be procrastinating finishing a couple other long posts, so there’s that hehe. For the (kinda but not really) public consensus for best fics per ship (by kudo count) check out some of my other posts. Also I’m putting some ships I don’t actually read much of (OOPS LOL) so if you think that there’s a fic that fits my type (if I even have a consistent type) better, pls tell me LOL. Otherwise, pls continue heh :)

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading to make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) and stay healthy!

IwaOI:

The Loyalty of a Traitor by DeathBelle (E) 76.9k // ok so does me liking this fic make me basic cause I feel basic LOL. I really love mafia fics, and the way the story line developed was SO good, like IN LOVE with this story. This is a fic where you should read WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARY before diving in, but if the length scares you, don’t be. It’s so easy to fall in and get lost in the writing!

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle by kittebasu (chanyeol) (T) 66.3k // again, basic? Probably LOL but it’s good so I have no shame ;) Again, pls don’t let the word count scare you (cause it scared me LOL), you get really into it after like 2 paragraphs, so just make sure you have enough time to finish hehe.

KuroKen:

Thicker Than Blood by kylar (M) 91.4k // are you surprised that there is another mafia one? You really shouldn’t be LOL. Anyway, I’ll just be here pushing my mafia fanfic agenda while you read this monster of a fic hehe :) Definitely read WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARY because there is some very sensitive topics involved! I also adore the oibokuroo friendship headcannon, so more reasons to read, right?

Liked, Commented and Subscribed by Royal Society of Pandas (Abarcelos) (T) 45.7k // this fic is SO funny omg. I read it and I had to stop so many times just to laugh because I could not stop sometimes LOL. However, there IS angst towards the end, it gets resolved, but it’s still there... But honestly, it just adds such depth and flavor to the fic, so pls read it!

BokuAka:

bang! now we're even by Authoress (M) 11.9k // so I’ll be honest, I don’t read a lot of BokuAka (...oops?) and so I wouldn’t consider myself as the best person to be recommending fics for this ship (in general too LOL).... ANyway, I love myself some good spy AUs (was gonna put that IwaOi spy AU but the LIMIT), and Akaashi in a dress? Like the tags might state, what more do you need? The characters are done beautifully, and the story development is SO good, so I give you all my humble BokuAka rec.

Crisis Converted by valiantarmor (M) 60k // man do I really love fighting in my fics LOL. This was super good and the plot itself kept me really engaged (what a twist omg). It does talk a bit about mental health issues, but it’s done so well, and they really did this AU justice!

DaiSuga:

How to Manage by SuggestiveScribe (E) 39.3k // ok so yea yea we established, I’m basic, BUT can you blame me? This might’ve been one of the first DaiSuga’s I’ve read and I have no regrets. Literally, this fic series is one of my favorites, so OF COURSE I had to add it somewhere :D Honestly, I don’t even think you need to read the first one to understand what’s going on, but I would just cause it has some funny DaiSuga moments too ;) This is explicit for PWP, so proceed with caution~~

Add New Contact by booksong (G) 8.5k // this one! It’s so cute and poor Daichi LOL. He really out here doing the most,,, Anyway, we love tech Suga, and a nice dash of snarky tsukki (LOL is he salt, yes yes he is). It’s very fluff and pine, so if you want to read Daichi having gay panic like 24/7, go right ahead LOL. 

SakuAtsu:

Burden of Blame by DeathBelle (E) 91.2k // ummmm, haha what, another mafia AU? Me, predictable? Noooo, never..... Anyway, this one was so freakin’ good like, love it so much! It’s one of my favorite mafia AU fics, and I love the story line progression. Poor Atsumu being dragged into this mess, but it’s okay because THEY are IN LOVE. Honestly, this fic is Atsumu best boy like he is the best boy. BEST BOY.

Notte Stellata by awkwardedgeworth (T) 20.9k // I ignored all of the other fics I LOVE in this ship (like the pain I’m in rn), but I love this fic with my whole heart. Like I have reread this fic multiple multiple times because I love it so much (tho I might’ve skipped the angst a couple of times cause I didn’t want the pain okay?). I keep coming back, and the second fic in this series is SO funny and cute and I love it here. Please read it, it’s so FREAKING good, angst and ALL.

KyouHaba:

Team Mom by All_My_Characters_Are_Dead (T) 2.7k // so as I was going through this tag (because that’s what I do LOL), I remembered this fic and I love it. Like yes Yahaba is the fear factor and yes Kyoutani is the DAD. I really like the team dynamics in this one, and the first years make me laugh pls.

Camellias by kiyala (T) 1.9k // IK you’re all like, you’re missing such great fics, like no I’m not I just made myself hate myself by limiting fics to two per,,, I love this fic and when I starting looking for this ship, it was the first one I thought of hehe. I really love magic and their interactions are so cute and the PLANTS ARE DOING THE MOST. Pls read both in the series, cause domestic KyouHaba is best KyouHaba ngl LOL. I love the plants, and if you read the second one, someone tell the trees to stop bullying Yahaba.

MatsuHana:

This gets annoying fast, Makki by Ink_stained_quills (G) 2.3k // IM IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC PLS I COULD NOT STOP CRYING TEARS OF LAUGHTER. This AU needs more fics PLEASE. It was SO freakin’ funny and the other teams KILLED ME. Like how they all approached the problem differently and how some of them (KUROO) asked for help LOL. Please this is so freaking funny go read it.

boiled frogs by reginagalaxia (E) 91.5k // I told myself I was gonna put my most angsty fics on another post (which I will for my other favorite MatsuHana angst fic which I love), but this fic. Omg I saw it and I was like I have to. Literally I have to. I hate angst, but read it. It, the, plot, omg, I jjfnsfknalkjdnf ljksan. Like I’m not sure you understand. This fic. asjfjfsadnldjb. I never thought I could hate a character SO MUCH,,,, like SO MUCH. READ TAGS, WARNINGS, AND SUMMARIES because some serious stuff really goes down. Bless Iwa-chan.

SunaOsa:

Accidentally in Love by pancake_surprise (T) 19.6k // JOSE CUERVO strikes. I love this fic and all the chaos in it. The way they were supposed to be the responsible couple (of friends LOL),,, sike. This one is only a slight angst and it’s mostly love and fun :) Also technically this is no longer the first fic in the series, but I’m still putting this one cause the other one is SakuAtsu orientated hehe :)

Spring Secrets by DeathBelle (T) 3.8k // Seasons might be one of my favorite (as all things also seem to be) series of all times. I don’t like rerecommending fics I’ve already said to read, which is why I’m not yelling at you to go read a certain other fic (which is my life and blood). Anyway, this fic series is all fluff barely angst (maybe that’s why I like it) but it’s so freakin good pls read it all ahhhhhh.

Komori/Suna (what is their ship name):

I wish to live in a world by hatsuna (T) 24.8k // ok ngl this fic was so sad and relatable? Like I was like wtf why are you making me cry rn even though like I shouldn’t be? My heart? Pain. (Hotel? Trivago.) Technically, this is END GAME but the main pairing is kinda SakuAtsu???? Something of the sort, but also their relationship (Komori and Sakusa) is written so well and idk guys I think you need to read this fic rn.

Ah the two fic limit hurt me, but fear not I am making ship specific rec posts (LOL I’m so dramatic), so if you wanted more of a ship,,,, its a coming hehe. And yes I did say I’m making an angsty fic rec post, but we’ll see if it gets finished before I side-track with posts like these LOL.

[e-milieeee]

hey cutea

Summary: In which Marinette brings Adrien to a bubble tea shop only to witness him order the most unappetizing flavour on the menu.

All’s well until Chat Noir does the exact same, and Ladybug makes an unsuspecting connection.

Tikki is also very unamused. If only they’d stop dancing around each other.

Notes: a month of procrastinating, the boba reveal,,, is finally here for day 1: cafe of @auyeahaugust! also for @buggachat because kelly started this with a drawing of an adrienette boba date and i spiralled :’) 

Word Count: 6.2k

AO3

The shop is called Thirstea, a pun which makes Adrien laugh for a whole thirty seconds as he stares at the storefront.

“Seriously,” Marinette is saying as he pushes the door open for her. “You’ve seriously never had boba? At all?”

Adrien shifts his backpack. He’s hit with the smell of something sweet—foreign, as well, but it’s pleasant enough—and the sight of a bustling interior. A small line has already formed, so Marinette tugs him aside and points at the large menu displayed on a colorful board behind the cashier.

“You can decide on which flavour you want,” she tells him.

Adrien peers up at the board. There’s so many to choose from—hundreds, even—from milk tea to fruit tea to mixed flavours and smoothies and…

His head is spinning when he turns back to Marinette. “Do you have any recommendations?” Because I have absolutely no clue. “What do you usually get?”

She tilts her head. “I have five go-tos. Roasted milk tea is a classic, but the honeydew milk tea is pretty good as well if I want something fruity. If I want something lighter, I’ll get a fruit tea—I like lychee black tea. Uh… there’s also the real fruit bobas, and I usually get taro. Oh! And the matcha latte is one of their best. And I usually get it with tapioca, but if you want to be healthier, grass jelly or aloe vera both taste pretty good. But I mean, it is your first time here and you should probably try getting tapioca just to see if you like it. And brown sugar milk tea, but they said they ran out today…”

The words go in one ear and out another, because Adrien is too busy staring at the way she talks: enthusiasm shining in her eyes, the way she waves her hands in the smallest, cutest gestures to make her point, and…

“Adrien?” Marinette tilts her head. “Um, have you decided? Or do you need more time? Because that’s completely alright too.”

In a panic, he nods and blurts, “I’ve decided!”

She nods sagely, and they enter the line. Adrien has not yet in fact decided.

He continues to stare at the menu from the corner of his eyes, going through all the categories until he settles on real fruit smoothie. Adrien goes through the list: watermelon, strawberry, mango, peach, blueberry, raspberry, winter melon—

“What would you like to order?”

Adrien snaps back into reality. He is not ready to order.

Oblivious to his conundrum, Marinette smiles at the cashier and fetches her wallet out of her backup. “I’m paying for us both!” she tells the girl cheerily. “I’ll have a peach green tea with half ice and thirty percent sugar. With tapioca.”

Adrien gawks at her order. She’d lost him after peach green tea—is he supposed to order like that too?

“Adrien?” Marinette prompts, now waiting for the order that he does not have.

He squints at the menu again, hoping his panic isn’t visible on his face. He scans them. Watermelon. Strawberry. Mango. Peach. Blueberry. Raspberry. Winter melon. Durian.

Durian.

“Durian,” he settles.

Marinette’s mouth quite literally drops open.

He’s not too certain what’s that surprising about his order—is it the wrong thing to order? Perhaps it doesn’t exist on the menu and he’d hallucinated it. A double-check later and the word is still clearly imprinted underneath winter melon. “Marinette?” Adrien asks carefully. “Um, I’m not too sure about the sugar and ice—which do you usually choose?”

She finally snaps her mouth shut.  “Durian?” Marinette echoes at last, ignoring his question.“Ah, are you certain about that?”

Adrien nods. “I can still add the pearls—the tapioca in, right?”

“Yeah,” she agrees absentmindedly, “but—durian?”

Adrien takes another peek at the menu. “The real fruit smoothie, right?”

“Have you… tried durian?” “When I was younger, once. Have you?”

Marinette swallows, and Adrien waits for her verdict, concerned. He’s honestly baffled why she’s so confused about his choice, but a moment later, Marinette squares her shoulders and gives the cashier a smile, this time slightly shaky. “And a durian smoothie with tapioca for him. Um, sugar and ice levels?”

Adrien has no clue what to ask for, so he tries, “The standard one for both...?”

Apparently that’s an acceptable answer because the cashier nods and jots down his order on a small notepad. Marinette pays, and they wait at the side for their order.

Marinette has gone quiet. She sorts through her bag for a little while, and Adrien waits in apprehensive silence. There’s quiet jazz music playing in the background and it makes him feel like he’s in an elevator. It’s becoming unbearably awkward.

Finally, Marinette lifts her eyes to look at him. “Sorry about that,” she apologizes. “I just… didn’t know you liked durian.”

“Oh.” He sounds equally awkward. “I liked the fruit the last time I had it which was about two years ago. Do you not like it?”

Her nose wrinkles. It’s cute. Wait, what?

“My mom really likes durian,” Marinette is explaining, and she motions with her hands again. “Apparently her hometown back in China had a dessert store that sold durian pastries and she had this brilliant idea of making them for Chinese New Year a couple months ago and the whole bakery reeked of durian and I could smell it all the way up into my room—” She clamps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I forgot you liked it.”

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” he replies, flustered. Marinette has a habit of saying a lot in very little time and it doesn’t help that he gets easily distracted by her movements. “I didn’t realize durian was so… controversial. I hope it won’t make you uncomfortable or something with the smell.”

“I guess it’s not that popular here,” she replies with a shrug. “But my mom did say that people either hate or love durian. And the smell’s fine. I don’t like it, but once you spend a week with it stinking up your room, you kind of develop immunity.”

Just then, the waitress behind the counter sets down their two drinks. “For Marinette?” she calls.

Marinette takes the bag with a quick thank you, grabs two straws, and then returns to Adrien. She holds up their drinks.

Adrien takes the cup from her extended hand. The durian smoothie is a creamy white, and the black tapioca bubbles sit at the very bottom. He follows her movements as she shakes her cup then stabs a straw into it.

He can see Marinette eying him in his periphery as he raises the straw to his lips and takes a sip. The drink is cold and sweet and has a rich taste that explodes on his tongue in a plethora of flavours, and Adrien decides he likes it. He really likes it.

“So?” Marinette asks. Adrien wonders if she knows how skeptical her expression is. “Do you… like it?”

He chews on one of the pieces of tapioca. “Yes. Yeah, this is really great.”

The skepticism doesn’t disappear from her face, but she raises her boba to his. “Cheers,” Marinette says weakly.

***

On a good day, a cup of boba has two hundred fifty calories when the tapioca is replaced by grass jelly and the sugar level is brought to less than half. On a bad day, if her sweet tooth demands regular sweetness and tapioca, it can be driven up to seven hundred calories.

It’s why Marinette has begrudgingly limited herself—for the sake of her wallet and health—to only drink boba once a week.

And it’s why she and Chat Noir, decked in hoodies and track pants in an attempt to look normal, are lined up underneath the blazing sun at Thirstea.

Their disguises don’t do much, because a crowd has formed around them. First there are whispers of is that Ladybug and Chat Noir, then a girl summons up her courage to ask for a selfie, and finally, the press starts driving in. By the time that happens, they have luckily made it inside the shop, where the air-conditioning blasts out on the highest setting.

Another snap of the camera. Chat Noir is staring pensively at the menu when a thought hits Ladybug. “Have you ever had boba before?” she asks him.

He nods absentmindedly, still looking. Everyone in line is whispering or peering at them, and Ladybug sees a phone held up in the back, most likely recording.

They make it to the counter when Nadja Chamack and her team, armed with cameras and microphones, invades the shop. The girl at the register looks slightly overwhelmed and a little alarmed, but she doesn’t tell the press to leave.

“Ladybug!” Nadja calls. “You’ve been photographed once or twice coming to this shop in the past month—is this your favourite bubble tea shop?”

“Yup!” she replies.

“What’s your go-to order?”

“Depends on the day.” Ladybug turns back to the cashier, leaving Chat to deal with the press. He has the uncanny ability to drag on a brief topic for an unsolicitedly long amount of time. “I’ll have an original milk tea with tapioca,” she tells the cashier. “Regular ice and seventy percent sugar.”

The girl looks a little starstruck, but she jots down the order. With a tug on Chat’s tail, he turns around from entertaining the press to place his own order.

“One durian smoothie, please!” he chirps, chipper as always.

Ladybug chokes on air.

The girl taking their order also seems taken aback, but her recovery time is much quicker than Ladybug’s. Instead, offering him a quick, slightly strained smile, she jots his order down. “Is that all, then?”

Chat takes the chance to pay for both of their orders while she’s caught in her confusion. By the time Ladybug snaps back to her senses, it’s too late—Chat is already pulling aside to wait for their bobas to finish. Nadja and her crew take the chance to start their questions again.

“Chat Noir,” Nadja addresses when it’s clear Ladybug’s still out of commission. “If I heard you right, you chose a durian smoothie?”

He gives a nod so proud that Ladybug swears she dies a little inside.

“Could you tell us why? From what I know, durian is a well-debated fruit. Many people love it, but many also cannot stand the smell.”

Chat ponders the question thoughtfully. “The smell is rather funny,” he finally replies. “But I like the flavour! It has a very rich texture as well, and tastes pretty different from the smell, so it doesn’t actually taste bad.”

“Ladybug?” Nadja gestures for the cameras to face her. “What are your thoughts on durian?”

She’s too busy thinking about Adrien Agreste raising his cup of boba to bump against hers—a durian smoothie—and his casual enthusiasm for the fruit that Nadja’s words don’t even click in her brain. Who would’ve expected Chat Noir to have the same (terrible) taste as her crush? The coincidence leaves her feeling disjointed.

“Uh… Ladybug?” Chat waves his hand in front of her. “Are you okay?”

She finally snaps out of her reverie long enough to scramble for a response. Ladybug manages a sheepish smile in Nadja’s direction. “I’m doing fine, thank you.”

Chat frowns. “Ladybug, that wasn’t her question—”

Before either of them can say anything more, the girl making the drinks pops her head out from the counter. “Your drinks!” she says, then beams at both of them. “Here’s a buy-one-get-one free coupon! Please come by often!”

Chat’s eyes glimmer when he accepts his durian smoothie. Ladybug takes her own with much less enthusiasm. Focus is hard enough with the snap of Nadja’s cameras and the chaos all around them—the fact that an even larger crowd has gathered outside Thirstea in order to catch a glimpse of their favourite superheroes makes it worse. It’s all too much to take in, and Ladybug’s brain is still stuck on Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir and durian smoothies.

“We’re going to take off,” Chat tells Nadja, then waves at the camera. “See you guys around! Come on, LB.”

She allows him to drag her out of the store, then with a flick of his baton and a snap of her yo-yo they’re swinging off, bobas in hand and the rest of Paris watching them go.

But Ladybug isn’t thinking about them at all.

When they finally settle down somewhere secluded, Chat immediately stabs his straw through the top of his drink and takes an obnoxiously loud slurp. Ladybug can smell the scent of durian from where she’s sitting, and instinctively, she wrinkles her nose and shifts away. She pokes her straw into her own drink, still staring off at the distance.

A coincidence, yeah. Her crush and her partner both have awful taste in bubble tea flavours. It’s nothing but a coincidence.

“Are you going to drink yours?” Chat is asking, still slurping obliviously. “I wanna try your flavour.”

He makes a grab for her drink, and Ladybug ducks away. “Your breath smells like durian. You can’t drink from my straw.”

“Hey! Let me try!”

For a little while Chat wrestles for her drink, nearly spilling his own in the process. In the end he snatches out from her fingers, laughing raucously. Ladybug is giggling as well, forgetting about her predicament for the moment. This is what she’s used to; their routine of banter and playfulness that’s easy—it’s straightforward. Not confusing.

That snaps her right back to the problem. Chat sips her drink, smacking his lips in a purposefully annoying way, and makes his verdict. “Not bad. I like mine better. Wanna try?”

Ladybug shakes her head and reclaims her drink. As casually as possible, she asks, “Do you get boba often?”

“Mm, no. This is actually the second time I’ve gotten the drink.” He swirls his straw around. “Honestly, with all the percentages you give for the sugar and the ice, I’m not too sure what to say. My friend took me to get boba a little while ago, so…durian is actually the only flavour I’ve ever tried.”

A casual dump of information, information that really wouldn’t have meant anything. It’s vague enough that any other person wouldn’t have made any sort of connection; it’s the information they often share between each other.

Except for the fact that she—Ladybug, Marinette—might be the friend in question. And Chat Noir—Chat Noir is…

She stares across the building, where an ad of Adrien, the Fragrance is displayed.

No way.

“Um,” Ladybug stammers. “Your friend took you out for boba because you’ve never had it before?”

He’s painfully oblivious to her panic. “Yeah, about a week ago. You know, it’s pretty funny because she had a similar reaction to you when I ordered the durian smoothie. Apparently she hates the smell too.”

“Your friend?” Ladybug echoes.

“Yeah, my friend. Are you okay, m’lady?”

Can’t really breathe properly, so I’m not really okay, but youcan’tknowandIdon’treallyknowwhat’sgoingonrightnow—

“I, um, just realized I have something to do,” Ladybug stammers out, because it’s the only thing she can think of saying. She flails, but somehow manages to get to her feet. “Uh—uh, do you want my milk tea? I can’t swing around very well if I’m holding it because it might get on my suit and my hair—oh my God, my hair! I got ice cream once and tried to eat it while going around Paris on my yo-yo and it went so badly and honestly I feel like the bubble tea will do the same so you can drink mine too since I can just get another one by myself soon but I really gotta run—”

She all but shoves the cup into his confused hands. It’s a whole miracle Chat doesn’t drop it then and there, just like it’s a miracle Ladybug hasn’t screamed or slipped up or promptly tripped over air and simply… lay there crying.

“Ladybug–” she hears him call, but it’s interrupted by the zing of her yo-yo.

She takes off as fast as possible.

Marinette has never been so hasty in detransforming, but as she slips through the rooftop back into her room, she’s already calling Tikki out before she touches down onto her bed. She slams onto pillows and the soft mattress in her regular clothing, buries her face into the nearest cushion, and screams.

She really doesn’t deserve Tikki’s patience, but her kwami stays beside her and pats her with tiny paws until Marinette’s throat is hoarse and she has more or less yelled the remaining cinders of her panic and confusion into her pillow.

When Marinette finally raises her head to look at Tikki, her kwami has her hands on her hips. “Well?” she asks. “I didn’t want to interrupt your breakdown, but now that you’re through, can you tell me what it’s about?”

Marinette thinks about the cup of boba and the boy she’d left back on the roof. Then the one that sits in front of her in class, with the same shade of blonde hair and emerald eyes, both ordering durian boba.

“I think Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste,” she tells Tikki weakly.

Tikki has a scarily-good poker face. “Have you now,” she replies with calmness Marinette is incapable of. “And why do you think so?”

“Because—because—because they both like durian!” It comes out as a distressed wail.

Tikki ponders the question. Then replies, “I see.”

It’s such an awfully vague response that Marinette is tempted to bury her face into her pillow to scream some more. But she doesn’t, instead pulling out her notebook from the stand and a pencil. “I’m going to draw a venn diagram,” she announces with newfound determination. “I might just be jumping to a conclusion too quickly. And—and there was that one time when Chat was there but Adrien was too, right? When Gorizilla attacked?”

“Right,” Tikki agrees. “But you also did a similar trick with Multimouse and the fox Miraculous, so…”

“Chat didn’t have the fox or mouse Miraculous. Anyway… they both have blonde hair and green eyes.”

She puts that in the similar column. She thinks about it for a couple seconds more, and writes “composed” in Adrien’s column and “a mess” in Chat’s.

“Oh, come on.” Tikki flits closer. “You know very well Adrien isn’t as composed as you make him out to be. The only reason you don’t recognize it is because you’re even worse around him.”

Marinette stubbornly keeps those two where they are, even if she knows deep down that Tikki is right. For a while, she goes on making her list, with Tikki criticizing almost every decision she makes. Adrien Agreste has neat hair, a polite smile, the best grades in class and manners that would woo anyone’s parents. Chat Noir’s hair is messy and untamed, his smile is almost always accompanied with a raucous laugh and shutting up isn’t in his vocabulary. He steals food and drinks and everything he can from her whenever she brings it.

She scribbles and erases and thinks and stresses, getting a week’s worth of confusion down and then some.

“Marinette,” Tikki finally advises when Marinette has run out of ink. “Why don’t you just ask Adrien tomorrow at school subtly about it? If he didn’t mind telling Ladybug he went out for boba with Marinette, he probably wouldn't have qualms telling Marinette about getting boba with Ladybug. It’s not as if your identities need to remain a secret anymore.”

Ask Adrien.

Ask Adrien.

Sure, they’re on good terms now. They’re friends. Marinette’s crush has faded into a more manageable level, and she can talk to him without her voice rising an octave higher than its usual key. She hasn’t tripped and fallen on her face in front of him for at least two weeks.

But this—with the possibility that Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir? To think she’d waxed poetic about Chat Noir to Tikki every night for months? It’s unspeakably insane to think about, and she doesn’t have the courage and probably never will but Marinette thinks she’s genuinely going to die if she doesn’t get closure—

“Okay,” she agrees at last, because it’s the only logical answer.

***

Adrien is the one who comes to find Marinette before she can go find him.

“Hey!” he calls from behind her.

In a quite frankly astonishing display of improvement, Marinette doesn’t scream or fall on her face, even if she does freeze for a good couple seconds too long.

“Uh… Marinette?” Adrien taps her shoulder. “I wanted to return the physics notes to you. You gave me your notebook from last time because I missed the class. Here.”

She takes the notes from him, movements stiff. A million words to say come piling from her throat, but they stick to the top of her mouth drily and none make it past her lips.

Adrien Agreste. Chat Noir. They’re the same person? How can they be the same person? Is it just a huge coincidence? Who is Chat Noir? Who am I, even?

Before she can work herself into more of a panic, Marinette gives him a forced smile, hugging her notebook to her chest. “Thanks!” she shrieks. “I gotta—I gotta run. See you around!”

She trips over air on her way out, face beetroot.

***

“Listen,” Tikki whispers to her, munching on her cookie as Marinette locks herself in a stall of the girls’ washroom. “You gotta do it. Just… just don’t think that he’s Adrien Agreste. I heard imagining people as potatoes helps with stage fright?”

Marinette lets out a distressed noise. “Stage fright isn’t my problem, though!”

“Adrien fright? If you ask me, it’s pretty similar. Anyway, just ask him if he’s had bubble tea recently or something! You don’t know until you try. It won’t be that bad. What’s the worst case scenario?”

“That you-know-who turns out to be you-know-who!”

“We did not decide on these codenames.”

“Yeah, but what if someone hears—”

Tikki interrupts her by giving her a little pinch. “Calm down, Marinette! It’ll be fine. Besides, is it really that big of a problem if it’s true?”

No, it isn’t. Marinette has thought long and hard about it last night, lying awake on her bed, unable to sleep because of the heat and turbulent thoughts and theories all mixing together. Would it be a bad thing, if Chat turned out to be Adrien? No—she could think of a thousand more worse people for Chat to be, and if she were to be perfectly honest, no better person than Adrien. But at the same time, it’s overwhelming in the strangest way: the sort that sends her heartbeat spiking, thoughts scattering, stomach turning in a not-quite-unpleasant way.

Marinette really doesn’t know what to think about it, and that’s the scariest part.

“Okay.” Tikki interrupts her train of thought. “We should probably get going before you’re late for class. If you hurry, you can probably ask Adrien about it before the bell goes off.”

Marinette steels her back. “Okay,” she grinds out with wavering determination. “Okay, I’m gonna do it.”

Tikki lets out a squeak of Attagirl! before diving back into her purse. Marinette marches out of the stall, down the hallway, and into the classroom.

She really hates the way her throat still closes up when she scans the room and her eyes land on Adrien. All of a sudden, she’s reverted to herself months ago, when her crush on him had reached its peak; when she’d been a jumble of frayed nerves and blabbering and hand motions violent enough to whack any bystander that wandered too close.

No, Marinette tells herself firmly. No freaking out. No stuttering. I’m past that.

“Adrien,” she calls, and he turns away from his conversation with Nino.

“Hey!” his smile is a thousand watts too bright. “We were just talking about you. Nino said he’s never tried boba as well.”

The word boba nearly has her choking on spit. “Cool,” Marinette manages out. “That’s very… cool.”

Nino’s eyebrows furrow. “You okay?”

“Fine! Th-that’s great you want to introduce Nino to boba as well! I’m glad to hear you liked the drink.”

Marinette’s well aware that she sounds like a buffering tape-recorder right now. She marches to her desk, sits down just as stiffly, and pinches herself on the arm, out of Adrien and Nino’s sight. Alya has yet to arrive—it’s now or never, Marinette knows. The longer she waits, the more nervous she’ll make herself, and the harder it’ll be. So…

“Adrien!” she blurts out again, voice too loud. Even Rose and Juleka leave their conversation briefly to glance at her.

He’s good-natured as ever when he turns to her, and Marinette is struck with another wave of trepidation. It’s all too sudden. It’s all too much. She takes a deep breath, mind turning to absolute mush, and somehow stammers out, “Have you gotten boba since that one time?”

She really can’t blame him for looking so confused at her question, but to Adrien’s credit, he regains his composure rather quickly. The bewilderment on his face quickly shifts to mild curiosity.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I actually went yesterday with a friend. Thank you for introducing me! I’ll probably go more often now if I find the time.”

Marinette’s mouth is dry. Her hands are sweaty. Her head feels like it’s going to explode. Her heart has moved to her throat and she’s positive that it’s going to stop beating any moment now.

“Oh.” It’s the only noise Marinette feels mentally capable of forming. Sentences are hard. Speaking is impossible. “Um, yesterday?”

“Yeah, it was pretty hot yesterday. I went to Thirstea, actually!” He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s the only boba shop I know at the moment so it doesn’t really mean anything, but… my friend who I went with really liked it too, so I think I’ll stick to Thirstea for now. Until I try all the flavours I want.”

Amidst her own confusion, Marinette somehow manages to think, if you wanted to try all the flavours you wanted why did you get durian again yesterday? It’s second nature: if the boy in front of her is Chat Noir—a fact that, despite the inconclusive results given by her venn diagram, is becoming more and more clear—then Marinette can’t help but want to tease him back.

Except if Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir and Chat Noir is Adrien… God. She’s just going in circles and getting nowhere closer to the final destination.

It doesn’t even hit Marinette that she hasn’t responded to Adrien and that’s why he’s staring at her so apprehensively. The shrill ringing of the bell startles all the class back into their seats, Adrien included, who shoots her a small smile before turning back around.

The rest of the period finds Marinette unable to pay the slightest bit attention. Mme. Bustier’s words travel in one ear, out the other, all muted static compared to the main problem at hand.

And a problem it is. She looks at Adrien’s golden head in front of her, imagining the flicker of black ears. If she reached down and mussed his hair up, it would look like Chat’s. They’re the same height too, to think of it. All the differences she had listed on her venn diagram seem to melt away, until Marinette is faced with one terrible, wonderful, conclusion.

***

She doesn’t confront Adrien about anything after the first period ends, nor does she at lunch, nor after. It’s too overwhelming to think of, but it hardly seems fair to keep him in the dark. When she asks Tikki to confirm at lunch, the only thing her kwami does is shrug with an indecipherable expression on her face—Marinette takes it as a verification.

But it’s a different story after school. By then, Marinette has made up her mind.

Her first stop is Thirstea. It’s not as sweltering as it were the day before, even if she has to wipe the sweat from her forehead after waiting fifteen minutes outside. The store isn’t as bustling now that Ladybug and Chat Noir aren’t there, so Marinette takes advantage of the peace to calm her thoughts. They have patrol in thirty minutes; she has thirty minutes to gather her thoughts and figure out how she’s going to come through with this. But is thirty minutes really going to help? She’s had the whole day alone to her thoughts, and, like it or not, she’s barely gotten anywhere.

When she finally gets her order—a fruit tea for herself, a durian smoothie for Chat Noir—Adrien Agreste—there’s only twenty three minutes to go.

Marinette transforms into Ladybug, hidden in an alley, and goes to wait for her partner to show up on the rooftop they agreed to. Then, once she’s reached the rooftop, she calls off her transformation.

The boba is still cold in her bag, so she wraps her hand around them to fend off the blistering heat from the sun. It’s uncomfortable, waiting like this, but physical discomfort is still better than working up a storm in her own thoughts, which Marinette is trying to distance herself from. They come in waves of stress, anxiousness, uncertainty, and fear. But she has to do this.

Her mood must’ve been evident enough for Tikki to feel, even though her kwami has slipped inside her purse to give her thoughts some space. She pokes her head out.

“Marinette,” Tikki says, a hint of concern in her tone. “You don’t have to do this now if you’re not ready, you know. Chat Noir will understand.”

Marinette, having resorted to biting her nails—she must be really nervous, because that’s a habit she’d gotten rid of years ago—shakes her head. “I can’t keep pushing it back. It’s one thing not revealing each other’s identities, but now that I know… I can’t just… not tell him. It’s not possibly fair, not when he’s waited for so long.”

“...are you happy that it’s Adrien?” This question is more tentative, quieter.

Marinette props her chin in her hands and stares at the skyline. Is she happy that it’s Adrien?

“Yeah,” she replies. “Yeah, I am.”

***

Chat Noir vaults over onto the roof, and he’s six minutes early. Marinette sees him before he sees her; she watches him look around for a couple of seconds, slightly confused.

She takes a deep breath and steps out of the shade of the door. “Chat Noir!” she calls.

He jumps around. “M’lady, you—”

His voice trails off. “M-marinette? I—uh, hi! I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I was actually going to find Ladybug but I might’ve gotten the wrong building! What—what, uh, are you doing up here?”

After a day of planning out the words to say, it’s rather funny how she can’t even form a semblance of the sentences she’s thought up.

It’s also a miracle in and of itself that she doesn’t stutter, panic, or go absolutely speechless. Even if her script lays lost and forgotten in the back of her head, Marinette says in a surprisingly steady voice, “I was actually waiting for you.”

Chat Noir doesn’t move from where he’s standing, so she heads towards him. “Did… Ladybug tell you I was going to be here?”

“Uhmh,” is the noise that makes its way out of Marinette’s mouth. She clears her throat and tries again. “I brought you boba because it’s hot today,” she explains. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

She sees it behind his eyes; questions, confusion, but most importantly, the beginning notes of a realization.

“Wait.” He doesn’t budge from his spot, eying her cautiously. “What do you want to talk about?”

“About the fact that you’re probably Adrien Agreste?”

Even the air, laden with the heat of the day, seems to still between them. Marinette looks up at him, and his reaction is the only confirmation she needs that she is indeed right.

Chat Noir’s reaction is less loud than she had expected. It’s shock, probably, the stage that Marinette has been stuck in for the good part of the day, because he still remains frozen. Then, in a shaky uncertain voice, he asks, “Ladybug?”

Her next breath escapes her in the form of a huff, a half-choked laugh. “We’re idiots.”

His lips lift into a wavering smile. “What.”

And then Marinette is laughing, because it’s so stupid. All the pent-up emotions come tumbling out uncontrollably and she’s laughing and laughing, doubling over and clutching at her stomach and nearly dropping her bag of their boba drinks.

Through her own giggles, she hears Chat mumble, “Oh my God,” and the way he says it makes everything all the more hilarious.

When Marinette finally gathers herself enough to straighten, she’s wiping tears from her eyes. Chat Noir is watching her, although his expression has softened into something that looks suspiciously close to fondness.

“Is this why you asked me about boba this morning?” he questions. “If I’d gone to get it with a friend?”

Marinette gives her eyes one last wipe. “Yeah. I just—when you ordered durian boba yesterday and all that you said—it was too suspicious for me to ignore.”

“Oh.” He tugs his hands through his hair—messy golden hair, how hadn’t she noticed how similar Chat and Adrien always were?—and lets out another groan. “Oh. I’m dumb.”

“You could’ve been any other person if I hadn’t been, well, me,” Marinette points out. “Tikki told me it’s due time, anyway. But yes, you’re dumb. So am I.”

“My identity got exposed because I ordered a durian smoothie?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Oh my God.”

She’s beginning to see why Tikki had found it endlessly amusing watching her panic. Instead of further antagonizing Chat, Marinette reaches into her bag to take out his durian smoothie. She stuffs it into his arms, and he’s too confused to do anything but accept the drink and the straw it comes with.

“Don’t worry,” she reassures him before she can stop herself. “I won’t tell anyone that number one model Adrien Agreste runs around Paris in a leather catsuit. My lips are sealed.”

The moment the words leave Marineette’s mouth, she feels her face heat up. It’s one thing to tease him before, now it feels like she’s treading on the edge of a cliff with a long, long drop. He’s still her partner, but there’s another aspect that they will figure out—with time, undoubtedly—and now is too soon to push it so much.

To her relief, Chat Noir’s face lights up, and a much wider smile slips across his face. “I’m still in shock, you know,” he tells her. If that’s his in-shock voice, then Marinette is thoroughly impressed. “But thank you. My father might have a bone to pick with this outfit if he ever found out.”

Relief is cool against the heat. “Your father won’t be the only one with the bone to pick with you,” she replies. “The bell is quite a… bold statement.”

He laughs once more. “I happen to like the bell the best, so I don’t know what your problem is.”

He has no business to smile so brightly like that, Marinette thinks to herself. In front of her is the boy she’s turned down countless times—the same one she would wax lyrical to Tikki every night before bed. God, what a coincidence. Or really, what a stroke of luck.

She’s jolted from her thoughts when Chat stabs his straw into his durian smoothie with a loud pop.

“Do you want to talk?” Marinette offers. “Somewhere shadier, that is? You probably have a lot of questions. I know I do.”

Chat nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that would work.”

She starts towards the small door on the rooftop, then stops when she realizes that Chat hasn’t been following her. Instead, his gaze is fixed thoughtfully on his drink, like he’s contemplating something important.

“Chat?” Marinette prompts. “Hey, are you okay?”

Then his face brightens. “I’m taro-bly sorry,” he says. “I just got distracted because you’re such a cu-tea.”

Marinette’s jaw drops open. It’s not that she’s particularly surprised by the pun, given his penchant for dropping them at the most terrible (taro-ble?) of moments, but she had half the mind to believe she’d permanently shocked the humour out of Chat Noir. Moreover, the fact that it’s Adrien Agreste saying these so casually is still new to her.

The grin he gives her is absolutely shit-eating, yet somehow, it works perfectly in her mind on Chat’s face as it does on Adrien’s. It also snaps her out of her reverie.

“Now my head is going to explode,” Marinette grumbles. “C’mon, cat-boy. We have a lot to discuss.”

He catches up with her with a quick jog, still slurping out of his boba. “I’m glad it’s you,” he tells her when they fall side-by-side. “In case you didn’t know.”

Marinette hides her grin behind her own drink, but she thinks Chat catches it nonetheless. “Me too,” she tells him. “Even if you have terrible taste in boba.”

“We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have terrible taste,” he points out, and they both share a laugh. 

Notes: Here’s my fics masterlist! 

[imag-en]

EVER AFTER HIGH | Yeonjun C. 

Chapter five

Notes: sibling stuff, sorta plot moving chapter again, slight yn asshole moment, Sunghoon isn’t a warning for once

“What took you so long?” Jake called out to you as you finally came through the large library doors. The library was the biggest room in the school, but it was usually packed, with students and shelves of books, so you never really noticed how enormous it was until it was pretty much empty.

“We’ve all been here for half an hour,” Sunghoon complained, looking up from the shelf of books he was skimming through.

“My chambermate asked for some book recommendations,” you answered. “I lost track of time.”

“Well get on track, cause you still need to prepare to teach whatever you didn’t prepare for yesterday,” Jay reprimanded you.

“It was Princessology and Kingdom Management, yeah?” Heeseung asked while reading through some books he’d gotten out. “I found some books that looked good and put them on that table over there.”

You thanked him, going over to look through the books. “I still have some work from Jacob too,” you sighed. “Why did he have to pile us with work on the second day?”

“Because he’s Jacob,” Jake and Jay said in unison.

You grumbled while taking out parchment, and began writing out your lesson plan for the week. The classes you had been assigned were Princessology and Kingdom Management, Magicology, and History of the Kingdoms. You’d made sure to get the latter two classes sorted out the day before because you’d known Jacob would pile on some homework to teach you a lesson on how you should not procrastinate.

“Hey Y/N, can I see some of the Kingdom Management books you have?” Jake asked, his voice hushed as your brothers were focused on their own work. “I have to teach Good Kingdom Management.”

“Yeah, here, these ones are related more to princely and kingly Kingdom Management.”

“Well… is there a difference?” Jake asked, head tilting. “Between the types of Kingdom Management?”

“Princesses have different roles, I guess,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat. “I never realized just how much work princesses have, though.”

“Well, I guess it’s good your learning it now. You're going to deal with all of this yourself, you know? Sure, mom was a princess but not as high ranking as you are.”

“Yes, I know, very well. Jacob made sure I realized it as well. We should probably work together a little on that part of our courses, right? We shouldn’t contradict each other too much or it’ll be confusing.”

“Mhm, that’s true,” Jake hummed. “Actually, a lot of these courses sort of overlap.” Looking down the tables, Jake called out to his brothers. “Hey, you three!” They looked up over at where you and Jake sat. “Do you wanna make sure our course outlines sorta match up with each other for the similar courses? To confuse the students less?”

Heeseung nodded his head, getting up. “That’s a good idea.”

Jay and Sunghoon followed. Shortly after, you all were rambling, showing off your course outlines and what you were planning for the week. You were even talking about the long term things you’d be teaching.

“There’s so many magic courses,” Sunghoon commented. “Which ones the main one? Magicology?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you nodded. “I’m teaching that and I cover a lot but I should keep it brief on some parts so kids don’t get bored learning it over and over again.”

“I’ve got Good Magic Mastery,” Jay commented. “We should have some classes together.”

“That’s a good idea!” you exclaimed. “Heeseung, you have anything?”

“Uh,” Heeseung looked over his schedule. “I’ve got Beast Magicment, and muse-ic… we’ll probably use some music magic for that.”

“I’ll let you cover those. Oh! Heeseung, you and Jake have two similar courses. Hero stuff.”

The two started talking and looking over each others’ curriculums once you’d said that. Jay and Sunghoon looked over what you had to check if anything could be intertwined. “Heeseung has Beast Magicment,” you commented to Jay, who had Beast Care.

“Do you know what the Grimm brothers have?” Sunghoon asked. “They must have a few magic classes as well, huh?”

“We have so many magic classes,” Jay said. “But none of us are even magical. How are we going to demonstrate anything?”

“We’ll just have to wing it,” Heeseung sighed. “This is just a temporary fix, remember? We won’t have to teach very long.”

“Well, we won’t be at the school very long either,” you said. “So, they better get people in here faster than how quickly we’re going to be gone.”

“How’d your classes go, you guys?,” you asked, yawning as you put books away back where they should be. “Meet any princesses?”

Jake gasped. “There was this really pretty guy in crownculus! He looked like a princess. His skin was as white as snow, and his hair was so black and dark. He was beautiful.”

“Sunoo White?” Heeseung asked.

Jake nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah him! I wish he was a prince! I could trick father and marry Sunoo!”

“Oh, I know who you’re talking about,” you agreed. “He’s probably the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Oh! I met a princess though. Sakura Beauty.”

“Yeah, she’s in my Science and Sorcery class!” Sunghoon said. “She’s beautiful too. Actually seemed like a princess… unlike someone.”

“Shut up,” you said, kicking his leg. “I met another person too. He was stunning.”

“Oh, was it the boy you were goggling at in Advanced Elfonomics?” Jay asked you.

“What? Y/N? Goggling? At a boy?” Sunghoon asked.

Jay grinned, nodding, as you bowed your head in shame. “The pretty one with the dark hair. He’s really shy, and sits in the back. Y/N always sneaks looks back at him.”

“Ah, the one you were talking to during Creative Storytelling on the first day?” Heeseung asked. “Yeah, you were in a trance or something. I thought he was some Dark Fairy for a second.”

“Ha,” you huffed. “He’s just beautiful. Let me admire him in peace will you? It’s not like I would pursue a commoner seriously.”

“That is true. The day you marry anywhere lower than your rank is the day I will step down as a prince,” Heeseung chuckled.

MASTERLIST | chapter six

[elliesguitarstrings]

Here For You

Masterlist

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Peter comforts you after you reveal your struggles with depression to him.

A/N: Sorry it’s taking me so long to write part 3 of Silence but I promise it will be out soon. I’ve just had a rough couple of days so I wanted to write something that kinda reflects my feelings atm. I know that a lot of people are feeling the same way as I have been, so I’m just putting it out there that I am always open to talk if anyone needs help :)

Warnings: fluff, mentions of depression and suicide, language

~~~~~~~~

You let out a long sigh as you close your computer after the last class of the day. You’re exhausted, you have a pounding headache, and you don’t have a single shred of motivation.

When all of this COVID stuff first started, you didn’t mind doing school from home. To be completely honest, you actually loved it. You didn’t have to talk to all the annoying people in your classes, you could do a large portion of work on your own time, and you had an excuse to stay in your room all day. What’s not to love, right?

Wrong.

After a few weeks, you started to see how terrible it all was. You had to teach yourself everything because your teachers had no clue what they were doing (and they still don’t). You started to get distracted easily. And the worst part: every single fucking day was the same.

You lost all motivation to do anything.

You’re smart, one of the smartest in your class, actually, but your grades were dropping rapidly. You lost track of assignments, turning them in so late you didn’t even get half credit. You procrastinated like crazy, dreading every single day. You stayed up late every night, trying to finish assignments and get back on track. But nothing was working.

You want to change so badly. You want to be one of those girls who keeps a bullet journal with fancy colors and letters, who plans out their entire day with a checklist, who stays on top of their work, and who actually has the motivation to get up out of bed each morning. But you can’t and you aren’t, and you don’t know why.

Plus, right now you were on your period, which was not helping things. At all. You hate feeding the stereotype of girls being all emotional and unstable during their periods, but it’s true. Well, for you at least. When you’re happy, it’s like you’re bouncing off the walls. But when you’re sad, it’s like you’ve fallen into a 300 ft deep hole and you’ll never get out.

You crawl into bed and start sobbing, the only thing you can do right now. You just want it to be over. All of it.

Suddenly, you hear a knock at your window. Your shades are drawn, but you know exactly who it is. It’s Peter. He goes patrolling around the city after school, but he always comes to check on you first, seeing as you’re his girlfriend and all.

You know that if he sees you crying, he’ll want to help you, but the last thing you want is to be a burden on him. Plus, you only started dating a few months ago, and you didn’t want to drive him away by getting all emotional around him.

“Just a sec Pete, I’ll be right there.”

You run to the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face, trying to get rid of the redness and puffiness in your eyes. You pat your face dry with a towel, put on the best smile you can muster, and run back to your room.

You draw back the curtains and open the window, allowing Peter to slip into your room.

“Sorry it took so long for me to get to the window, I um, just woke up from a nap,” you apologize, shutting the window back while he takes off his mask.

“Don’t worry about it! But didn’t school end like 10 minutes ago? How did you fall asleep so fast?”

“Oh, um, my last class got dismissed early, so I was actually done like 30 minutes ago,” you lied, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Oh, okay, well I’m glad you got some rest. You need it.”

Smiling, Peter stretches his arms out towards you and pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead.

Just that small amount of affection is almost enough to make you burst out into tears again, but somehow you manage to hold it in.

Until Peter pulls back, looks you dead in the eyes and says, “What’s wrong?”

“What? N-nothing’s wrong Peter, I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, you aren’t. I can sense something’s wrong, so just tell me.”

“Peter I swear. Nothing’s wrong! I’m fine!” your voice is shaking.

Peter folds your hands into his, “Y/N, please. I know something’s up. Just tell me.”

That’s when you lose it. You fall back into his arms, sobbing even harder than before. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. But there’s no stopping it now.

Peter holds you tight while you cry, letting you bury your head into his chest. He doesn’t ask any questions just yet, he just holds you.

After a few minutes, the tears let up enough for you to pull away, looking at Peter with red, swollen eyes.

“I’m sorry Pete, I’m so so sorry. I- I didn’t mean for that to happen,” you stutter between sobs.

“Y/N, no, no, it’s okay. You can let it out.”

His voice is soft and comforting, and it does actually help you a little bit. He pulls you into another tight hug, repeatedly kissing the top of your head while you continue to cry.

“Come here, lets sit down, okay?” he pulls away slightly.

You nod weakly, and he guides you onto your bed. You both sit down, facing each other, and he takes a hold of your hands.

“Peter I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a burden, you should go do your patrolling, I don’t want to hold you up – “ you start, but Peter cuts you off.

“No, you don’t need to be sorry. And forget about my patrolling. I’m staying here until you’re better, however long that is.”

You smile weakly, to tired to even fight on it.

“Do you want to talk about it? Only if you’re comfortable though, you really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Peter questions.

You look at Peter for a moment through teary eyes. He was here for you, ready to listen to you and help you. You were hesitant, not wanting to spill all of your feelings out on him, but you’ve already gotten this far, so why not.

“Yeah, sure, but can we cuddle?”

“Of course baby, whatever makes you comfortable. But let me change first, I’m drenched in your tears,”

You chuckle lightly. Peter always knows how to make you laugh.

He changes into a sweatshirt and sweatpants that he left at your house and climbs back into bed with you. He pulls you close to him, and you snuggle into his arms.

“So, talk to me, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Are you sure you want to hear my problems? I really don’t want to be a burden Pete,” you respond, still crying.

“Baby, I’m here for you. I want to help you and make you feel better. That’s what I’m here for.”

He really is the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.

“Well, um, okay. It’s just, I don’t have any motivation to do anything. Not even to wake up in the morning. Even just the simplest tasks seem so difficult, and I feel like I can’t do this anymore Pete. I just can’t do it.”

You start to sob once again, and Peter pulls you into him even closer. He lets you cry and slowly calm down for a few moments before responding.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry. I had no idea you felt like that. I mean, I knew school was bothering you, but not to that extent. But please, please please don’t leave me. You mean so much to me and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you,” now he’s starting to cry.

You lay there, Peter’s arms wrapped around you, holding you as close as humanly possible to him, both crying your eyes out.

“Y/N, I’m going to help you. I’m going to do everything I can to help you. Because losing you isn’t an option. So tell me what I can do to help.”

“Thank you so much Pete. You being here Is honestly the best thing you can do right now.”

You snuggle into him, engulfed by his warmth and comfort.

After a long silence, you look at him and smile, genuinely this time, “You know, even though I’ve been sobbing nonstop basically since you got here, just being with you has already made me feel better than I have all week.”

Peter looks back at you and cups your cheek, pulling you in and kissing you softly. Although the two of you had kissed many times before, this one was different. This was pure love.

You pull away, “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Of course baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.”

You both smile, going back in for another kiss, much like the last.

This time Peter pulls away forehead still resting against yours, “Y/N, promise me you’ll never leave me.”

“I promise Pete, I promise.”

You snuggle back into his chest, your tears finally diminishing. Although the past few months had been absolute shit for you, Peter had always been there. And you know he always will be. He makes everything better, and you couldn’t be happier to have him in your life.

The both of you start to doze off to sleep, tired from all the crying you had been doing for the past, well, however long it’s been.

Before you fully fall asleep, you whisper, “I love you Peter.”

“I love you too, so much” he whispers back.

And in that moment, you are truly happy.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist (if you want to be added, removed, or changed on this taglist please comment or send in an ask!)

All: @pxkajesus @hollanddolanfangirl @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @loopyolivia @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @depeestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @clandestine-nerd @nevertrustapanda16 @ohabbyoh @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @baby-pogue @strangebouquetqueen

Peter Parker: @blizzardbabe 

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Fanfic Writer 20 Questions

Tagged by the fabulous @belleyells. Thank you!!

1) How many works do you have on AO3? 

136! :D 

2) What’s your total AO3 word count? 

295,266. :O 

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Alice in Wonderland, Arrow, Legends of Tomorrow, Eureka, Grimm, Haven, Maleficent, Manifest, Once Upon A Time, Prodigal Son, Sanctuary, Star Trek: TOS, The Flash, The Walking Dead, Timeless, Victorious, White Collar, and Zoo. (At least those are the ones I’ve put on AO3.) So....18. 

4) What are your top five fics by kudos? 

What He Cannot Say

Holding Each Other Together

In A Name

Forgotten

In Good Hands

Three Timeless ones (not surprising), one Grimm fic (also not super surprising), and one Prodigal Son fic (kinda surprising, actually, because I wasn’t super involved in that fandom. Neat, though!) 

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do!! Sometimes it takes me awhile, especially with a longer comment, but yes. I absolutely love interacting with my readers. <3 

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? 

Maybe “A Time to Mourn,” or “The Recollection of Us.” 

7) Do you write crossovers?

I’ve written a few!! Most of them live in my head, but I’ve gotten a few down on the screen. 

8) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not on AO3!! On one of my early ff.net accounts, I got a comment from someone saying that my posting a certain fic on their birthday ruined it for them. I, a snarky young pre-teen/early teen, wrote a fic/parody thing in response and posted it separately. I got a comment from a complete stranger calling me rude names for it. I messaged the stranger explaining the situation, and she and I ended up being good friends for awhile.

So, while in hindsight, I kinda regret the snarky response, it gave me a friend, so, you know. 

(I also got one comment on a one-shot saying it was boring, which gave me the motivation to write the sequel I’d been procrastinating for ages. ... I was a very combative child, in hindsight....) 

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kind? 

Nope! 

10) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, no! 

11) Have you ever had a fic translated? 

I have not! That’d be really cool, tho! 

12) Have you ever co-written a fic before? 

Mmmm so @belleyells and I wrote a few chapters of a Legends of Tomorrow/HTTYD crossover, but never ended up publishing it. Ohhh and @heytheredeann and I co-write a series for awhile! (And @taleasoldastime-andspace and I started to cowrite something, and then I... Lost steam for writing Timeless characters. Sorry, friend!) 

13) What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Mmmm... Probably Garcy. 

14) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? 

!!! I have the majority of a Timeless fic written out where Flynn is kidnapped and tortured by Emma. It’s one of the whumpiest things I’ve ever written. There’s a version where Amy is secretly alive and working with a team to help save him as well, and a version that threw that out for being too complicated. But I don’t know if it will ever get finished. Not only am I not doing much with Timeless these days, it’s far heavier whump than anything I normally write these days. 

15) What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, for sure! And I have like... I feel like a solid 60/40 track record with writing emotional stuff. It’s either a grand poetic comparison, or like. “She felt sad. It felt like sadness.” Also, generating ideas.

16) What are your writing weaknesses? 

To steal an answer, finishing stuff. Also, writing scenery/description. 9 times out of 10, if the characters are in any sort of setting at all, it has taken a LOT of effort on my part to focus on it. I’d be happy to just have them floating in space. Also, writing fight scenes. 

17) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language? 

I would if I could, and it’s always neat to read. Really, though, all I can do right now is write terms of endearment in other languages. 

18) What was the first fandom you ever wrote for? 

The Mentalist. 

19) What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Probably “Forgotten,” because it’s the first multichap I’ve finished in a long time. “Echoes Through Time” might honestly be a close second, though. 

20) Who do you tag? 

@taleasoldastime-andspace @imissthembutitwasntadisaster @please-dont-pet-the-okapi @lumiereandcogsworth @marvels-obscure-tophat and @amandamonroe but only if you want to!