#im so tired too like i am so bad at resisting the urge to sleep and it's finally getting to me

[skrunksthatwunk]

waiting for the library to open bc i have to print smth SO. complaining some more

started on a presentation that's worth 10% of my grade 8 hours before i have to give it and i am realizing that (3.5 hours before i have to give it) i have spent. all of my time on the history that is not relevant to our readings 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀fuck

[deerixiie]

24/7 ramen.

description: you are iwaizumi’s home; even if he is forced to take you to a ramen place at 2 in the morning.

pairing: iwaizumi x gen!reader

genre/warning: banter, fluff, literally just filler dialogue with an overarching plot, light mentions of violence

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this was inspired by some headcanons im going to post. oh and this is for @hajiimes... hehe <3

“I got into a fight.”

Iwaizumi paused, his phone hovering near his ear. He resisted the urge to let out a sharp laugh—of all the things, why did you have to get into a fight?—and slung his arm over his face. “And you lost?”

Iwaizumi could almost hear you pouting. “To be fair, they were-”

“But you lost.”

A pause. “Yeah.”

Iwaizumi dragged his hand across his face with a heavy sigh. “Why are you fighting people at,” he paused to squint at the digital clock on the dresser, “Two in the morning?”

“Ramen.”

“What?”

“Hot and spicy shrimp,” you said solemnly. “There was only one pack-”

“You’re aware we have finals tomorrow, right?”

“Exactly the reason why I wanted ramen.”

Iwaizumi sighed again. “Are you hurt?”

“Well, someone elbowed me in the eye-”

“The eye?”

“Yes the eye. I’m pretty sure it’s swollen, but other than that I’m perfectly fine.”

“Why do you sound so happy?” Iwaizumi asked, getting up to scour his closet for a hoodie. “You lost a fight over a pack of ramen.”

“Well technically, no one won the fight. We all got kicked out of the store. Poor guy didn’t even keep his ramen.”

“Which store?”

“Walmart.”

“You couldn’t have gone to a convenience store or something?” Iwaizumi pulled on the hoodie Oikawa sent him from Argentina and grabbed an old Godzilla hoodie from his closet.

“Haji, this is Socal, not Japan,” you condescended. Iwaizumi scoffed at how haughty you sounded. “I’m sure Socal has convenience stores,” he muttered.

“Well, Walmart was the closest.”

“You could’ve woken me up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, moving on to grab the keys off the drawer, “I would’ve taken you to a convenience store.”

“But you were sleeping.”

“So? You know how dangerous that was? I’d feel a little better if I was there.”

“Yeah, but I wanted ramen,” you sighed. “Anyway, can you pick me up, Haji? It’s getting cold.”

Iwaizumi shut the apartment door with a quiet click. “I’m leaving the apartment now.”

“That was fast.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling that you’d want me to pick you up.”

“Okay. Oh, and remember to drive on the right side of the road.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure? You almost drove into a tree last time.”

“Because I was tired.” Iwaizumi opened the door to the car, dropping the hoodie into the passenger’s seat. “Tired people don’t think straight.”

“Aren’t you tired right now?”

“No, I’ve been awake since you told me you got into a fight. You need to tell me what the hell actually happened there.”

“I told you, it was ramen,” you huffed. “There was one pack of spicy shrimp and three desperate college students in need of ramen.”

“So you fought for it.”

“I lunged for it, some other dude shoved me, I crashed into the third person, and then he was pushing them and I was on the floor and then someone’s elbow was in my eye and then the employee grabbed us and tossed us out.”

Iwaizumi took a moment to process your words. “You sound proud of yourself.”

“I’m not. I didn’t get the ramen.”

“No one got the ramen,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“I mean yeah, but now I can tell people I’ve been in a fight.”

“Why would you want to tell someone you’ve been in a fight?”

“I dunno,” you sighed. “I’m tired and hungry. Tired and hungry people say weird things.”

“Damn right.”

“That was an insult.”

“It was.”

“Ouch.”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond, lightly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to turn green.

“My eye hurts,” you said suddenly, your voice crackling from the phone’s speaker.

Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“No,” you decide. “Ramen would make it better.”

“So now I’m buying you ramen?”

“Yeah.”

“At 2 AM?”

“It’s 2:28 now.”

Iwaizumi scoffed.

“I found this ramen place that’s open,” you said. “24/7 Ramen. It’s 25 minutes from here.”

“Why is there a ramen place open for 24 hours?” he muttered, half to himself.

“It’s probably run by college students. That’s why the name is catchy too.”

“Catchy?”

“It sounds like a song. You know, 24 Karat Magic by Bruno Mars.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What?” Iwaizumi found himself flinching, despite the fact it was simply your voice coming from his phone’s speaker. “How have you been living in America for two years without ever hearing 24 Karat Magic? That song is a classic.”

“I think you’re forgetting you’re speaking to a guy born and raised in Japan.”

“Haji, you’ve been here for two years. That’s 24 months. 48 weeks. And a certain amount of days I’m too tired to calculate.”

Iwaizumi thought for a moment. “730.”

“730-” you paused. “How the hell did you calculate that so fast?”

“Dealing with stupid people makes you smarter, I guess.”

“No, ramen makes you smarter.” You sighed. “I really want ramen.”

“I heard.” Iwaizumi turned the steering wheel, bringing the car into the Walmart parking lot. “And I’m here now, so you can stop whining.”

“Oh, I see you. Do you see me?”

There was a figure sitting on the front curb, waving erratically in Iwaizumi’s direction. “I see an idiot waving at me like their life depends on it, so yes, I see you.”

“I think being around stupid people makes you grumpy,” you grumbled.

“No, having to pick my significant other up from Walmart at 2 in the morning makes me grumpy.”

You responded by scoffing and hanging up the phone. Seconds later, you were sliding into the passenger seat of the car. “Aw, did you bring a hoodie for me?” you asked, glancing down at the Godzilla hoodie that you almost sat down on.

Iwaizumi glanced over to you, raising an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Hi, I love you, thank you for picking me up. Happy now?”

“I’m ecstatic. Yes, that hoodie is for you.”

You smiled, pulling the hoodie on over your shirt and relaxing into the seat. Iwaizumi carefully looked over your face. The only noticeable injury was the ring of darkness around your eye—did they really elbow you that hard?—and a slight cut on your upper lip, but those would heal soon. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“What, is there something on my face?” you asked, reaching up to brush your fingers over your cheek.

“You have a black eye.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Damn. Is it bad?”

“No, not really.” He checked the dashboard for the time and slightly frowned. “Where’s the ramen place?”

24/7 Ramen was a small convenience store in between an optometrist and a cigarette shop. On the outside, it wasn’t much. The name of the store was illuminated in large flickering neon letters. The exterior brick walls of the store were dusty and crumbling with age and wore. The windows were covered with assorted posters and papers, some for missing children, upcoming movies, and advertisements for Japanese snacks.

“Oh, so this is like a Japanese convenience store then?” you asked, looking at one of the Japanese ads. “I guess you were right.”

“Told you.”

“Just come on and buy me my ramen.”

The door opened with a familiar chime that reminded Iwaizumi of warm yakisoba buns, tangled with the sight of preppy school uniforms, and of course, Oikawa Tooru. The layout of the store was straight out of Japan, overwhelming him with countless reels of tender highschool memories. If he closed his eyes he could see himself standing right there, bag under his arm, Oikawa at his shoulder.

“Feeling a little nostalgic, huh?”

His head whipped toward you standing behind him with an amused smile on your face. “This place does have a Japanese feel to it.” You raised your eyebrow in that insufferably adorable way of yours, and Iwaizumi found it hard to breathe.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as a flush began to form on his cheeks. “Be quiet.”

You hummed but made no other comment, instead choosing to shoot him another knowing look that made his blood roar in his ears. You started moving through the store, picking cups of ramen off the shelves. He hovered behind you, still embarrassed about his nostalgic moment—was he that homesick?—occasionally picking up cups of ramen and examining them before placing them back onto the shelf.

After what seemed like ages, you presented your armful of ramen cups with a proud smile. “I’m done.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not buying you 15 cups of ramen.”

“But you promised-“

“Each one is like, 65 cents? I’ll buy you 5, max.”

“Why not more?”

“I’m just as broke as you are.”

You sighed in defeat. “Being broke in college sucks.”

“I told you we should’ve held off on getting a car.”

“But I wanted a car!”

“More than you want ramen?”

“That’s- that’s an unfair comparison!”

Iwaizumi continued to go back and forth with you, even as you paid for the ramen at the cash register. You were in the middle of a frantic explanation of why investing in a car was important in California when you finally made it outside.

The air was still and cool, save for the slight breeze that occasionally tangled in Iwaizumi’s spiky locks. The only sounds were the distant cars speeding across the road and the faint sound of crickets chirping, for you had both fallen silent after leaving the convenience store. Iwaizumi turned to look at you: one eye swollen, upper lip bleeding, a plastic bag full of convenience store ramen clutched tightly in your hand. He could see the fire in your eyes, that odd determination to make your own dreams a reality, no matter how fickle or ridiculous they were. It was similar to the drive he saw in Oikawa’s eyes, he realized. The reckless, worthless one that seemed to be a double-edged sword.

Maybe that’s why whenever he looked at you, he felt like he was at home.

“I love you, you know that?”

You cocked your head to the side and smiled slightly. “Where did that come from?”

He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets again, turning away from your curious gaze. The corners of your mouth pulled up into a faint smile. Without warning, you turned Iwaizumi toward you with your finger and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. And then you were bounding off toward the car, the plastic bag jostling in your hand.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi called, starting after you. “Come back here so I can kiss you properly.”

“I want my ramen!” came your response from the car. “No kisses until I get my ramen!”

Iwaizumi chuckled softly. You were annoying and feisty, but you still managed to make him feel right at home.

taglist in reblog; please comment/reblog with comments in the tags or in the post if you enjoyed!! i love hearing your feedback :)

[korpuskat]

Kinktober Day 10 - Cybering - Tomura Shigaraki/Eijirou Kirishima

[Ao3 Mirror] Rating: Teen (series will be Explicit) Word Count: 2,732 Summary:  Running the League of Villains and being on the run without any resources is really stressful. Sometimes, Shigaraki just wants to relax, play a game, and virtually kill people.Kirishima feels the same way. Contains: Among Us shenanigans, future Kirishima/Shigaraki

I’ve been wanting to write this fic for a while and once again I can’t make it short enough to write in one day so here’s a like 2 or 3 part series.

=====

He's tired. Exhausted. More than anything in the world Tomura Shigaraki misses his bed- his room- his consoles and games from the time before. Before Kamino, before Sensei had gone and-

Tomura scowls, chases the thought from his mind. He's been over this a hundred times, been stewing in it even day for weeks, there's no point getting worked up again. So he does what little he can to relax, to lie back on the old, dingy mattress and the rotted, half-ripped sheets. His coat will act as a fine enough blanket tonight, but for now- now he's too tense, too angry to sleep. Normally, he'd invest some time in his latest game, a series he can drop an hour into until he's finally relaxed and ready to get the sleep that eludes him.

But then. He's lost that too, hasn't he? He's left with only his phone and a data plan on someone's bill somewhere that has yet to be traced to him. (At least he hopes; would be rather awkward if the heroes were aware of his late night search history).

There are few games he can play and enjoy, mindless things, but damn if there isn't one that keeps his attention. Tomura sets his name to Dust and loads into the first lobby he sees. As soon as he loads in he moves to the laptop to change his color to black. The chat explodes:

KingExplos (orange): you made it public dumbass KingExplos (orange): gtfo rando

Tomura sneers at the next one, considers finding another lobby.

AllMight (green): Welcome! Floaty (pink): hi!

The prospect of being imposter and killing him first makes Tomura stay.

RedRiot (red): Oops sparky (yellow): but we got 10 players now! RedRiot (red): Ignore orange, Dust Alienqueen (purple): He's cranky lol

They must all know each other, probably all in a Discord together. So long as they're not teaming, it doesn't matter, he can put up with their too-friendly chatter for now.

Dust (black): start RedRiot (red): Right!! Sorry!!

Tomura rolls his eyes, but settles back into his pillow as the timer counts down. The first round goes smoothly; he's a crewmate and works through his tasks with stunning precision, except for the damn card swipe that takes three attempts. He ends up doing the refueling task at the same time as red, the energetic little bean circling his own black avatar a few times in enthusiasm. Tomura scowls, considers the likelihood that red is an imposter all too happy to follow Tomura to the engines, but lets that worry fade- as halfway through the first refueling someone reports orange's body.

Alienqueen (purple): where Froppy (lime): where? Shouto (white): ?

Then, the location come in one by one, all except for the reporter:

AllMight (green): froppy and I were in admin! Froppy (lime): yep sparky (yellow): afk in caf lol Shouto (white): elec with alien

It takes a minute, and Tomura begins to suspect a self-report, until at last:

Ingen (blue): KingExplos's body was outside Navigation and I am sure I saw Floaty running away towards Oxygen! Therefore, pink is an imposter! Floaty (pink): what!! I was at up engine, blue's lying

Tomura grins, he does so love this part.

Dust (black): pink's lying. Dust (black): i was in up engine. RedRiot (red): Yeah!! RedRiot (red): Dust and I were doing refuel together! Floaty (pink): I was just outside, going to medbay Floaty (pink): Ingen don't lie to them!!

The banner pops up: Dust has voted. The rest of the group follows, ringing in one after another.

Froppy (lime): sorry floaty Floaty (pink): dang it Ingen!!

Sure enough, a little pink bean floats out into space followed by Floaty was an Imposter. Easy. Even if blue was slow on clarifying, it should be an easy game with only one dead and one imposter left.

The game resumes- and Red excitedly follows Tomura's avatar back to the upper engines to finish refueling. Tomura finishes first and- watching as Red's avatar remains stuck to the console- waits for Red to finish. It's logical, Tomura decides, to go in pairs and not get split up. Even if he wins, it still sucks to die. And when Red runs to him, circles him again, they pass by the reactor to go get more fuel to do lower engine.

There's no body interruption this time. Tomura only has one task left and it's trash. The bar's not far enough over yet for him to use his visual task- but Red circles him obnoxiously again and moves back and forth back towards storage. He has nothing better to do, Tomura decides, and follows him. Red leads him past storage, past comms, and up the corridor into weapons. He stops next to the console- and sure enough, the ship's lasers fire as Red does the asteroid game.

Well, at least Tomura knows he wasn't running around with the only other murderer on the ship. Red circles him again, excitedly following as Tomura wanders back into the cafeteria.

Just in time to watch green snap lime's neck.

Tomura blinks, then huffs a single amused half-laugh. But Red is the one to get there first, smashing the report button as green still just stands there over lime's bisected corpse.

RedRiot (red): DEKU!!!!!!!! RedRiot (red): WHY!!!!!! AllMight (green): I'm sorry! Alienqueen (purple): where RedRiot (red): YOU KILLED HER??? AllMight (green): I'm sorry, Froppy!!!! Shouto!! Chargebolt!!

Sure enough, the crewmate list shows not just lime dead, but white and yellow too. Impressive, actually. Tomura wonders where the bodies were, if only the one they witnessed is the one that got reported. Probably electrical. Red continues his caps ranting.

RedRiot (red): UNMANLY! Ingen (blue): Where was the body found, RedRiot? Dust (black): its green Alienqueen (purple): omg! all might's an imposter!

Tomura resists snorting. The votes come in fast- ending with green voting for himself. He spins off into space and Tomura is rewarded with the winner's screen. He's shocked to see everyone- everyone load back into the lobby. Not a single leaver? They're definitely in a group together.

KingExplos (orange): WHY THE FUCK DID YOU KILL ME FIRST?? Floaty (pink): gg lol sparky (yellow): killed by all might sparky (yellow): what a way to go AllMight (green): I said I'm sorry! Shouto (white): It's alright, that's how you win. Alienqueen (purple): no its alMIGHT KingExplos (orange): SHUT UP AND START

Tomura allows himself to laugh at that at least, orange's frustration more so than purple's joke. They're not terrible, no obvious cheaters thus far- and their ingroup dynamics keep the focus off him.

This time, the text pops up red. Imposter. Tomura grins- and notices the character off to the side of his avatar. Red. Well. So long as he isn't following him around like a lost dog, maybe Tomura can carry him to a win.

The game starts and Tomura immediately heads down to admin, stops in front of the wiring panel and waits, watches the other characters filter in and out- for a moment it is just him and green (an urge to kill All Might no matter who catches him is intense), but pink and purple both wander in and Tomura has to move on. He heads down to storage, finds nobody idling there (too close to admin anyway). Electrical is obvious, a great kill spot, but on a whim he heads right into communications- and finds orange by his lonesome.

He drops into the room, slits orange's throat, and is back out heading up past shields, nav, and weapons. On the way he passes Red, who stops to wiggle back and forth at him before continuing on down the way Tomura came from. Tomura makes it all the way into the cafeteria and presses up to the wiring panel next to blue. He waits for the kill cooldown to reset- is just about to tap the button when--

Body reported! Tomura scowls- and blinks at the megaphone under Red's name. Blinks at the second red X in the crew list, white also having been killed and not by Tomura.

RedRiot (red): Stop killing Explos first! I can hear him yelling up there!! Alienqueen (purple): where? RedRiot (red): Comms AllMight (green): oh no RedRiot (red): Came from nav and didn't see anybody

Tomura stares at the chat. He'd killed white and reported orange's body to look innocent, not a bad plan-

Ingen (blue): I was doing the trash removal in cafeteria with Dust who was doing wiring. Floaty (pink): was in the middle of reactor game :( Alienqueen (purple): f Alienqueen (purple): in medbay waiting on samples sparky (yellow): wait shoutos dead too Froppy (lime): deku is it you again? AllMight (green): what!! no!! RedRiot (red): You can't kill your way to being at the top of the class!!

Students. Ah. Makes sense how they all know each other now, the dynamics at play. Perfect.

sparky (yellow): all might sus lol AllMight (green): i'm not!! AllMight (green): i was in elec doing the spinny thing Dust (black): alone? AllMight (green): i think so sparky (yellow): sus lol Alienqueen (purple): yeahhh sparky (yellow): wait sparky (yellow): dust where were you???

Tomura rolls his eyes.

Froppy (lime): ingen said they were in cafe with him Dust (black): wires in cafe w blue sparky (yellow): oh Floaty (pink): read chat spark lmao sparky (yellow): sorry dust llo sparky (yellow): lol* Alienqueen (purple): youre so dumb omg Ingen (blue): Dust and I were in the cafeteria completing tasks. Froppy (lime): are we voting? sparky (yellow): green is sus for sure!! Floaty (pink): idk :( RedRiot (red): Elec is near comms and he was alone...

Tomura's finger hovers over the vote button. Too aggressive and he'll look suspicious... but voting someone off immediately would definitely help.

Alienqueen (purple): im skipping for now Alienqueen (purple): but ur on thin ice!!! AllMight (green): its not me!!!

The votes rolls in one by one. Red's appears in the list- and Tomura wishes he'd been more clear how he was voting. He plays it safe, skips. There's plenty of time to coax out that suspicion. The results tally up: pink, yellow, and sure enough Red had voted for green. If Tomura had voted the other way it would've been enough to eject him- damn. It's fine, he can work with it.

The game resumes and Tomura guides his avatar through rooms, pauses at task locations to seem genuine, to wait for a good opportunity. He finds the perfect one, at the bottom of storage blue leads him towards the trash chute. The grin that curls at his lips is cruel, but he can't help it. They're the perfect target, blue's precision could be a problem if Tomura needs to lie. Blue wiggles then stops to complete the task- trash explodes out from the side of the ship, proving blue's innocence. Tomura already knew that. Before blue can step away somewhere more visible, he taps the kill button and his black avatar skewers blue's.

He runs towards electrical, dips in and makes it all the way to the vent, stopping there- and waits for just a moment. It might be risky to leave electric so close to the body, so he jumps in the vent and slides his way over to security, popping out when he's sure no one is around. Easy. He stands by the cams but stares at the hallway, waiting for a potential victim as his timer ticks down. People probably aren't done, not concerned with using security yet- and just as Tomura is about to give up and seek out prey for himself, a little pink bean comes running by.

They turn into the reactor room and approach one of the tasks. Tomura sits at the other task, right next to each other- only seconds left, 5, 4, 3- he just needs them to be below average at the memory game- 2, 1-

He jams the button as they begin to run away and his avatar stabs theirs and- Body reported!

It's fine, it's fine. Nobody else was in reactor with him, he's sure.

Dust (black): where Alienqueen (purple): KIRI....... AllMight (green): where? sparky (yellow): ? RedRiot (red): uh Alienqueen (purple): KIRI KILLED TSU....

Shit.

sparky (yellow): riot!!! how is that manly!! Alienqueen (purple): RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME IN MEDBAY AllMight (green): omg Dust (black): lol

Tomura is definitely not laughing out loud, but if he doesn't respond he'll look suspicious.

RedRiot (red): Look!! RedRiot (red): You weren't supposed to come in!! sparky (yellow): hahaha ok vote kiri Alienqueen (purple): YOU KILLED TSU! RedRiot (red): You weren't supposed to see!!

That does make Tomura shake his head, perhaps a little amused at Red's explanation. No use trying to defend him. He taps the vote button and they come pouring in. Tomura can still win this, he's pulled it off with worse- so long as Red sticks around to pull out some sabotages for him, there's a good chance. The voting ends, green being the last hold out-- and Tomura's mouth drops open.

As one final parting gift, Red has voted for green.

Red's body goes spinning off into space, the confirmation RedRiot was an Imposter appearing after

It doesn't always mean something, but maybe, maybe, the rest of the crew will think it was Red implicating green as his co-conspirator. The game resumes and Tomura wanders over towards medbay. They'll probably be grouping up soon, he needs to work fast to separate them- and the alarm makes his screen flash. Red's already at work.

Tomura crosses cafe to go to oxygen, stands at the console there- and yes. yes. purple comes running in from nav. The cooldown from the round starting is rough, but it's enough, it has to be- the sabotage ends (damn, if he could've killed her before that, he could've won immediately) just as it comes off the timer. The black avatar rips open to reveal a mouth and takes a chomp out of purple.

Tomura runs to the cafeteria- and watches as yellow slams the emergency button. He'll notice purple is dead, they were together, shit-

sparky (yellow): deku!!!!!!!!

and yellow. Yellow votes. Tomura full-on fucking laughs.

AllMight (green): what!! sparky (yellow): you been sus all game its you isnt it!!! AllMight (green): no!! it's you! accusing me to get the rando to vote me out and win! sparky (yellow): omg no! Dust (black): actually Dust (black): it's neither of you

and Tomura votes for green.

sparky (yellow): OMG sparky (yellow): R U FR AllMight (green): i told you!!!! sparky (yellow): how do u change ur vote???? Dust (black): you cant AllMight (green): that was too sneaky dust

Green accepts his fate, votes for himself. Tomura wishes he was actually All Might- that'd certainly be a novel way to kill him, to eject him into space. The winner's screen appears: Black's avatar and the ghost of RedRiot standing as menacingly as little bean creatures can.

He taps through the ad, loads back into the lobby.

RedRiot (red): Haha! We got y'all! KingExplos (orange): you fucking dick Alienqueen (purple): denki ur a moron LMAO Floaty (pink): that was amazing dust KingExplos (orange): fucking killing me first again Floaty (pink): but omg :( AllMight (green): i told you!! Floaty (pink): I just needed to do reactor :( RedRiot (red): Dust you were beast!!

Tomura blinks, feels sweat gather on his palms. A few of the players from the previous game didn't return.

Dust (black): thanks RedRiot (red): Do you have discord?? RedRiot (red): I have go to sleep but we made a great team! RedRiot (red): Should play again some time!!

He shouldn't. It's not like his discord is private or obviously him or anything, Tomura only uses it for the gaming servers, a quicker way to look for group before loading in- but he hasn't needed to do that in some time. He'd been swiping away any notifications, set himself on do not disturb and didn't open it to not make himself miss his consoles.

But he liked this. Red was good, good instincts, wasn't overly annoying or stupid, and more than anything, they had good synchronization. What harm could it be? At worst Tomura just blocks him, at best they play Among Us some more. He waits for two more people to leave the group, probably also headed off to sleep if they're all students before typing out his username.

=====

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[isakvaltersmut]

(1/2)What if omega!Isak has an owner before Even, and he wasn’t really treated well. His owner didn’t allow Isak to nest and talked down to Isak a lot. Eventually, the owner decides to buy a new omega and Isak is sold to Even. Isak believed it was kinda his fault that his previous owner treated him wrong, so he tries to be really good for Even and never complains or asks for anything.

(2/2)Even def isn’t having it and spoils Isak as much as he can. When Even offers Isak a few blankets to nest, Isak cries because he hasn’t nested before.

Why am i crying in the club right now holy fuck??? im sitting here with tears in my eyes how dare you?? but also can you write some fics pls i’ll love you forever afgdhfg

TW: kinda slaver sorta

But yeah. Isak had an owner for a little over a year, and he really tried to do good, he did, but his owner never seemed to like anything Isak did. He wasn’t standing up straight, he cried too much during his heats, the house wasn’t clean enough, he didn’t look pretty enough whenever there was a party or his owner had guests over. And his owner made it all very clear, he never stayed quiet when he wanted to tell Isak that he was doing something wrong, and he didn’t stay quiet the second Isak tried to nest with something, anything. The owner didn’t give him any blankets or any pillows, and Isak just needed to nest, he needed to feel comfortable and safe, so he started to collect clothes and towels and anything he could find, but his owner didn’t want that mess on his bed. He said it was too much of a hassle, so he forbade it straight away, and immediately Isak’s eyes filled with tears, which he was reprimanded for as well, but he didn’t cry. He simply resisted the urge to nest and tried to be good as hard as he could, but one day his owner seemed to get tired of him, so he cursed and rolled his eyes and grabbed Isak’s arm and dragged him off to the agency where he left Isak and picked up another Omega, one that smiled and had pretty eyes, and Isak desperately tried to think about what he had done. He cried himself to sleep every night, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to imitate the feeling of someone else holding him, but it wasn’t the same. Eventually, he stopped giving himself that small comfort too, he knew he was a bad omega, he didn’t deserve it.

He knows that he had fucked up, he was probably too whiny, his owner probably didn’t like the times he asked for some chocolate or some candles or nuzzled in close to him in bed in hopes of feeling his arms around him, so he doesn’t think anyone will want him, he doesn’t think he deserves to be wanted. But then one day, a tall alpha comes through the door, and a leash is attached to his pretty collar and he’s lead to the car. 

He’s shaking through the whole ordeal, desperately trying to calm down and sit in the far corner of the car, away from his owner, knowing that his touch wasn’t wanted or needed, he had no idea that Even simply didn’t want to frighten the poor thing, he didn’t want to touch him when he was clearly so shy and scared, even though he desperately wanted to wrap his arms around him and not let go.

They get in the flat and straight away Even takes the leash off, putting his hand on Isak’s back and leading him through the flat to the living room, holding Isak’s back in his other hand. And he can feel Isak shivering beneath his palm so he quickly moves it away out of fear that Isak doesn’t feel comfortable, but all Isak can think about is how he wishes the firm pressure and warmth of Even’s hand would come back. It’s been so long since anyone had touched him, but he hasn’t earned it yet. Maybe he had done something wrong. He straightens his back quickly, turning towards Even, his head still bowed, and waits for his instructions, hoping his master will forgive him for whatever it is that he did that made him retract his hand.

“Are you hungry?”

Isak shakes his head, his nails digging into his forearms as he tries not to speak. He wasn’t told he was allowed to, he will not say a word.

Everything is silent for a little while, but then Even puts Isak’s bag on the floor next to the couch.

“Have you eaten today?” 

Isak nods quickly, he doesn’t want to hesitate, he doesn’t want to make the alpha mad by making him wait for an answer.

He can hear his master hum, making shivers run down his spine as he stares down at the floor.

“Do you want some chocolate then?”

Isak almost gasps, desperately wanting to let his omega display its emotions freely, but he couldn’t. He knew his master was being far too kind to him offering him one of the things all omegas had a weakness for.

He wanted to say something, to give a verbal answer, but he still wasn’t allowed, and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to say yes and seem greedy, but he wanted it so badly, he wanted to say yes.

“You can speak, Isak,” His master’s voice was heard, making him tense slightly when he realized he took too long. His owner wouldn’t be happy with that, he fucked up already.

“It’s okay, Sir, you don’t have to give me anything.”

He heard footsteps approaching him, his head stayed lowered until his master placed his thumb and forefinger on his chin, tilting his head back, but he still didn’t look at him, he wasn’t allowed to.

The owner dropped his hand, and Isak kept his head in that position, he couldn’t move it.

“Isak, it’s okay, I want to give you whatever you want. Do you want some?”

Isak took in a deep breath, nodding softly.

“Yes, Sir.”

After that Isak stayed the same. He tried so, so hard. He knew his owner was far too nice to him, so he knew he was doing something right, and he remained the same, and within the week he was there he had gotten more food and more affection than he ever had before. Even though the affection was usually a hand on his back or the back of his neck, his owner never asked for more, he even allowed him to sleep in the guest room so that he didn’t feel pressured into doing anything.

But after a few days, Isak was in the living room, he was sitting down and waiting for his owner to come back and put a movie on. Isak loved these moments, he was so rarely allowed to indulge and watch a movie before, there were far too many other things to do so he simply couldn’t, and his master wouldn’t allow it regardless, he thought it would fill his weak little omega mind with silly ideas about grandiose events and adventure. But his current owner allowed it, encouraged it even. 

So, Isak was on the couch, waiting like a good pet, when he looked to the side, seeing the softest, fluffiest blanket he had ever seen. It looked so incredibly soft, he could practically imagine wrapping himself up in it in a nest. Before he knew it he was reaching out to touch it, fingertips grazing over it so gently, and suddenly his master was back in the room, and Isak’s eyes shot over to him, and he knew that he was caught touching what wasn’t his. 

Straight away he dropped from the couch down onto the floor, hands in his lap and head facing down.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to, I will never do it again, I promise.”

He could hear his rapid breathing, and he knew he was going to be punished, he only hoped his master would use his hand instead of the paddle and whips which his old owner used.

But then there was a hand on his cheek, a gentle hand, and he let out a breath, desperately trying not to lean towards the warmth and comfort.

“It’s okay, Isak. Do you like the blanket?”

Isak let out a shaky breath before nodding.

“Yes, Sir.”

He heard his owner hum, and suddenly he was being pulled up on the couch. He still wasn’t looking at what was happening, petrified with fear and regret, but suddenly he was being enveloped in something else. 

He frowned and looked to the side, and he saw the soft grey material he was touching merely moments ago was now wrapped around his shoulders, and his owner was suddenly stepping away, simply turning the movie on as Isak sat there in shock.

“You can sit back and relax, you’ll love the movie, don’t worry.”

It took a while for Isak to calm down, to realize that he was allowed to let his breathing even out, and he sunk back onto the couch, but he still didn’t dare touch the blanket. But in the middle of the movie, his mind wasn’t focused, and his hands gripped the blanket and he wrapped himself in it, letting out a small whimper that he didn’t even know he was letting out, but Even knew. He watched as the omega gripped the blanket and buried himself in it, closing his eyes for a moment and letting out a moan of pleasure, and Even smiled at the sight. 

It didn’t take long for Isak to relax completely and for Even to hear the most wonderful purr coming from beside him, and he looked at Isak properly and noticed the boy was asleep. He smiled and quickly turned the film off, getting up and picking the omega up in his arms, almost wanting to carry him to his own room so he could hold him through the night, but he knew the omega was fragile, he couldn’t do that to him. So he took him to the guest room, placing him on the bed and pulling the covers over him, the blanket still around him. He leaned over slowly, brushing his hair away from his face before he went to bed.

The next day Isak woke up late, shooting up in bed before he rushed into the living room, and when he got there his owner was already awake, making ice fill his veins as he took his submissive position and hoped that he wouldn’t get punished.

“I-I’m sorry for oversleeping, Sir.”

But his owner didn’t do anything, he simply smiled and waved it off from where he sat on the couch, but suddenly he stood up.

“I have something for you.”

Isak’s cheeks flushed, he got something for him? He never got any presents, his old owner wouldn’t dare to get him anything.

There was a hand on the back of his neck once again, making him blush even more as he was lead to his room.

“Wait here.”

He stood where he was left, patiently waiting for his owner to come back, and when he did there was a big box in his hands which he handed over to Isak.

Isak stared at it for a few moments, blinking in confusion as he tried to think about what it could possibly be.

“Well, open it.”

Isak quickly walked over to the bed, placing the box down and removing the lid, and he couldn’t contain the gasp that left his lips. 

His hands dove into the box, taking out the softest blankets he had ever touched, he couldn’t get enough of them, he kept running his hands through them, and then he looked over to his owner, tears in his eyes.

“Do you like them?”

His owner almost sounded bashful, nervous, but he needn’t be.

Isak nodded quickly, “Yes, Sir, I-you didn’t need to get me these, they are so beautiful.”

“You deserve it, you should have things to nest with. I’ll get you some more in the afternoon, you can come with me and pick whatever you want. Maybe we could get you some candles too, and some pillows.”

Isak chirped at the words, looking at his master and trying to stop himself from running over and wrapping his arms around him, but he couldn’t. Before he knew it he was putting the blankets down and rushing over, wrapping his arms around a slim waist and pushing his face into a firm chest. There was a moment of stillness, but then he was being enveloped into a hug, his owner placing his cheek on the top of his head as he let out the strongest purr yet.

When they separated his owner looked at him for a few seconds before tilting his head towards the gift.

“Why don’t you go make yourself a nest and I’ll get you some food?”

Isak practically ran to the bed, letting out soft little chirps as he moved the blankets, giggling and smiling as he placed them on the bed as Even watched him, a smile tugging on his lips. And he knew that he would buy every blanket in the world if it got that reaction out of him.

[ritualmichael]

Breakfast in Bed - Dad!Michael

just a lil thank you since i hit 2.4k! michael and his son make y/n breakfast in bed because they just love her so much.

warnings: possible baby fever, im sorry.

-

It was early. It was too early yet there Michael was, being pulled from his sleep by a tiny finger poking his cheek. He groaned sleepily, grabbing the small hand in his larger one, pulling it away from his face. Blinking a few times, he adjusted to the light and saw his son perched on his stomach, peering down at him with his wide, blue eyes. In any other situation he would’ve been annoyed by being woken up at such an early hour, but he couldn’t resist the way his tiny copy looked at him.

Giving him a tired smile, Michael pulled him down to lay next to him and his son quickly found the perfect spot at his side, his head on his shoulder as he looked up brightly at his father.

“Good morning, little man,” Michael whispered, careful to not wake you as you slept soundly with your back to the pair.

“You said we could make breakfast for Mommy,” he said, mimicking Michael’s soft whisper and completely disregarding a greeting, clearly very serious about his order of business.

“I did, didn’t I?” Michael said, rubbing his tired eyes and his son watched him intently, always fascinated by the things Michael did.

“Uh huh,” the boy agreed, climbing off of Michael and grabbing his hand, weakly trying to pull him up as he climbed off of the bed. “C’mon,” he pleaded.

Michael climbed out of the bed carefully, trying not to wake you up from the sudden shift in weight on the mattress. He grabbed a shirt, quickly tugging it over his head and followed his son as his tiny legs hurriedly carried him to the kitchen. He beat Michael there, already setting up his small stool in front of the counter so that he could reach.

“I want fruit loops,” he said to Michael when he walked in, seeing his son trying to reach for the cabinet but miserably failing.

“What happened to making breakfast?” Michael asked, grabbing the cereal box and handing it to him. He opened another cabinet, getting out two bowls.

“Thats for Mommy, not us,” he declared as if Michael had asked the most obvious question ever. It made the man chuckle, retrieving the milk from the fridge.

“I see,” he said, letting his son carefully pour cereal for the both of them into each of the bowls, but pouring the milk himself. There had been too many accidents in the past, Michael had learned his lesson about letting his son pour liquids.

Lifting his small body up onto the counter, Michael set his son down and sat next to him, their legs dangling off of the counter as they both ate their cereal. He reached over, showing his son how to properly hold his spoon, silently nodding in approval as he chewed.

The pair sat quietly as they both ate, mouths too full to speak. It blew Michael’s mind at how much his son could eat, nearly finishing his plates before either of his parents ever could.

When they were finished, Michael helped the boy down from the counter and he pattered after his dad as he made his way to the sink, setting his bowl down inside. His son held up his bowl up to him, not quite able to reach the sink yet.

“Thank you,” Michael said, taking his bowl and quickly washing the two of them. His son made it his responsibility to grab the milk, screwing the lid on tightly and putting it back in the same spot in the fridge where he had watched Michael grab it from. Michael admired how much he always wanted to help.

“So, what do you want to make?” Michael asked as he looked in the fridge for ideas. His son clung to his side, peering in as well.

“Pancakes?” he asked excitedly, peering up at his dad for approval. Michael nodded at the idea, beginning to grab some things they would need for the batter, handing a few things to his son.

“If we make these do you promise to be extra careful around the stove? You know our rules,” Michael asked, arranging all of the ingredients and tools on the counter. You both always made it a point to teach your son about dangerous things such as hot pans, he was too precious to the two of you to take any risks.

“Don’t grab the handle and don’t touch the top,” he recited, earning a proud smile from Michael, the man reaching down and ruffling his already messy hair.

“Good,” Michael said, beginning to pour some things in a bowl and pushed it over to where his son was standing on his stool. “Stir it carefully,” he instructed, handing him a spoon.

He securely held the bowl as his son whisked the ingredients, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. He pointed out a few spots that needed more mixing, the boy eagerly fixing the issue.

“Why do they call them pancakes if they don’t have icing?” his son inquired as he watched, from a safe distance, as Michael poured the batter into the sizzling pan. He was always asking questions that Michael had never even thought of.

“Good point,” Michael chuckled, trying to keep the batter in a perfect circle as it cooked. “I guess because they’re made with batter like cakes are. Remember when we made that cake for your birthday?”

“Spider-man!” his son exclaimed excitedly as he thought about his cake they had made just a few months ago, insisting that he have a homemade Spider-man cake. It didn’t look the best but he was still completely enthralled about it to this day.

“Yeah, Spider-man. He was made kind of the same way,” Michael explained to his fascinated son. He watched as he dipped his tiny finger into some of the batter that was left over in the bowl, tasting it and scrunching up his nose when he realized it didn’t taste anything like a sweet cake.

“Yuck,” he said, shaking his head at Michael and making the man laugh.

“Maybe it’s because you made it. You must be a bad cook,” the man shrugged nonchalantly as he teased the boy. He felt him tug on his shirt, frowning up at him as he challenged him.

“I am not! I made the cereal, that was good!” he argued, only making Michael laugh more. He flipped the pancake over in the pan, silently applauding himself for how well the bottom of the pancake had cooked. As much as his son wanted to make this breakfast, Michael truly wanted it to be perfect. He was always eager to find small ways to show his appreciation for you.

“But, I poured the milk?” Michael questioned, playfully challenging the boy even more.

“I poured the fruit loops!” he quickly replied, crossing his arms over his chest. He definitely had his mother’s stubbornness.

“Okay, maybe you aren’t that bad of a cook,” Michael compromised, plating the first pancake. Giving his son a banana and a dull, plastic knife he showed him how to slice the fruit so that he could put them on top. The pair worked together as they made the rest of the food for your breakfast, the house starting to fill with the smell of pancakes.

Michael stole a slice of banana, popping it into his mouth. “Shh,” he said, playfully smiling at his son as he mimicked his dad, stealing a piece from the plate as well.

The boy insisted on arranging the banana slices in a smiley face on the pancakes, carefully drizzling syrup all over them. Looking over the finished plate, he beamed proudly.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” he asked, looking up at Michael.

“She’ll love it, buddy,” Michael assured him, pouring a glass of orange juice. He set the plate onto a tray, carefully handing it to his son who held it like it was the most precious thing ever.

“Be careful,” he urged the boy, holding the glass of orange juice himself, not wanting to deal with scrubbing an orange stain out of the carpet this early in the morning. He watched as his son quietly padded into your bedroom, looking back at him with questioning eyes when he noticed you were still asleep.

Michael silently motioned for him to set the try on the nightstand, setting down the cup of orange juice down too. He grabbed his son, lifting him up onto the bed and he climbed over to your sleeping figure, giggling quietly before he started to attack you with affection as Michael lovingly watched, holding back his laughter.

You woke up to a mess of kisses all over your face, those familiar giggles filling the room and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“What are you doing?” you sleepily said, wrapping your arms around your son and hugging him to you as your eyes fluttered open. He was looking at you with the sweetest grin, scarily resembling Michael.

“Me and Daddy made you breakfast in bed!” he happily exclaimed, making you look up to see Michael sitting on the bed next to you. He gave you a warm smile, reaching over and brushing your hair off of your forehead, pressing a quick kiss there.

“Good morning, baby,” he said, grabbing the tray from the nightstand. “Let Mommy eat, bub.”

Your son climbed off of you, giving your cheek a quick kiss and climbing under the blankets in Michael’s spot, resting his head on his dad’s pillow. You sleepily sat up, yawning and taking the tray, carefully setting it on your lap. The smiling breakfast caused you to chuckle, making your son giggle to himself at his silly creation.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked, starting to cut into the pancakes. It was truly a surprise to wake up to them both wide awake by your side, especially with a cooked breakfast. Typically you were the first one awake but not today.

“We just wanted to do something special for you,” Michael shrugged, looking over at his son who was snuggled up in the blankets. He always loved cuddling in your bed with the both of you. “Right?”

“Yep,” your son happily agreed, nodding his head and reaching out for you, his small hand loosely grasping your shirt. He had a habit of holding on to you in some way ever since he was a baby. You dreaded the day he stopped clinging to you like that.

You happily ate your food, listening to your son explain the whole process of making it in every detail that he could. Michael sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the headboard and his hand slipping into your hair, massaging your scalp. You felt like you were in heaven, being treated so well by your favorite boys.

When you were finished you thanked them for working so hard and Michael took the dishes to the kitchen, your son taking the opportunity to cuddle up to you. He rested his head on your chest, his small arm hugging himself to you. Michael returned to see the pair of you snuggled up to each other, slipping back in bed behind your son and slinging his arm over the both of you.

You could feel your son starting to doze off, rubbing your shirt between his fingers and letting all of his weight lay on you. Michael ran his hand up and down the boy’s back, a smile pulling on his lips.

“He was so excited when he woke me up this morning,” Michael said softly, looking up at you with those blue eyes that you loved so much. “It’s unbelievable how much he loves you.”

“You’ve been a good example,” you said, looking down at the sleeping boy on your chest, kissing the top of his head. “He has a good man to look up to.”

Michael leaned over your son, pressing his lips to yours briefly as he smiled gently. If you could stay in this moment forever you would. It was so simple but filled you with so much love.

“You gave me the greatest gift in the world,” Michael whispered, shaking his head in loving disbelief. You both treasured the boy who peacefully slept on top of you, resembling the both of you in your favorite ways. He was truly the embodiment of your love and you admired how perfect of a father Michael had become. You wouldn’t trade these boys for the world.

-

tags: @dudesorriso @silkyhoneybaby @avesatanaslangdon @moonagecordelia @lucifer-owns-this-pussy @sodanova @romanoffkittens @heelsamizayn @kaigitana @lovely-langdon @langdonpilots @cryptid-coalition @cherryberryann @omnipotentdemoness @marzipan-romanoff @featherpool-852 @langdonsdemon @slasherloversposts @lxngdonscoven @01-800-mary @mcenziehughes @kylolangdon

[turtle-steverogers]

Never Quite Settled (2/2)- greaser au

sequel to this

ship: sprace, brotherly jack/race/al

warnings: bad mental places, crying

editing: nopee lol

word count: 1871

-

Spot sat back against his pillows, allowing his eyes to droop shut as he rested his head against the headboard.  Math sucked.  He didn’t understand it and it was nothing short of unfair for the teachers to assign so many problems for homework when they’d barely explained it during class.  He could go in for extra help, but his teacher, Mr. Cratsley-Gimmelfarb, was about as intimidating as his name, so that was off the table.

Spot sighed, reaching up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.  He could feel a tension headache niggling between his eyes and a distant longing for Race entered his mind.  Race was usually good at math.  If he were there, maybe he could help him understand his homework and then they could cuddle afterwards.  Or makeout.  Spot was honestly up for either.

A loud knock at his window brought Spot out of his reverie and he opened his eyes, wincing at the light in his room.  He turned his head towards his window, a small spark of hope igniting in him.  Maybe his prayers had been answered and Race had magically appeared at his house, wide smile ready to help him.

He highly doubted it, though.  Race was most likely in trouble with Jack at the moment.  Jack had seemed pretty ticked off when he’d caught them running from Bumlets and Itey that afternoon.  There was no way Race would have been allowed to leave the house.

He pulled himself off his bed, taking a moment to draw back the curtains before looking out the window.  A grin spread across his face as he realized that it was, indeed, Race outside.  But the grin quickly faded when he noticed the splotchy tears that stained his face.

He immediately opened his window, reaching out a hand to help Race inside.

“What happened, are ya hurt?  Do ya need a doctor?” Spot was fussing over Race the moment they were sat on his bed, but Race weakly pushed him away.

“Ah fuck, not you, too,” Race groaned.

Spot frowned, “Whatcha mean?”

Race scrubbed a hand down his face, “‘M jus’...” he took a breath, “‘M sick a’ everyone thinkin’ m’ incapable...or like, weak or sum’.”

“Did Jack say somethin’?” Spot pushed.

Race shrugged, “Kinda, I mean, yeah,” he fiddled with his fingers uncomfortably, “He jus’, he still treats me like the troubled kid who couldn’t handle when shit went south and I guess I didn’t help matters much by stabbin’ myself and jus’,” he clenched his fingers, defiantly biting out, “‘M not a kid.”

Spot digested his words, mulling over his own thoughts for a moment, “‘Course ya ain’t a kid, Racer.  You’se one a’ the strongest people I know-”

Race scoffed and Spot hastily shut his mouth, “What?”

“I don’t wanna hear none of that shit either,” Race said, “Makes me feel,” he let out a frustrated noise, gesturing in front of him, “uncomfortable I guess? Like, you’re overcompensatin’ by sayin’ I’m strong.  I don’t needa hear it, I jus’ wanna be treated my age….normal.”

Spot nodded, “Aight,” he paused for a moment, “Why were ya cryin’?”

Race bit his lip, discomfort radiating off of him in waves, “Jack got mad,” he mumbled, “An’ he shouted a bit an’ raised his arm like…yeah, an’ I got spooked.  S’why I came here.  Kinda.  I also jus’ wanted ta get away for a sec.”

Spot winced, picturing the situation, “You okay now?”

“Yeah,” Race waved a hand dismissively, “m’aight.”

“Listen,” Race looked at Spot expectantly, “M’not the best with this kinda thing, either, but maybe you should talk ta Jack ‘bout this?  Tell him whatcha told me?”

Race leaned sideways against Spot’s pillows, pursing his lips, “I dunno, prob’ly won’t listen.”

“Worth a shot, though,” Spot reasoned.

“Yeah, I guess,” Race mumbled.  They lapsed into silence and Race looked around awkwardly, spotting Spot’s math homework.  He rolled his shoulders, regaining his cocky composure, “Need help with this?” he asked.

Spot blinked, wiping away his own worries, “Yeah,” he said, leaning over, “I don’t get it.”

Race smiled softly, pulling the textbook towards himself, “Aight, lemme take a look.”

XXX

Jack stared at the place Race had been a moment before, the echo of the door slamming replaying in his head.  Shame bubbled in his gut and he mentally scolded himself for losing it.  He wasn’t going to hit Race.  He would never.  But he could imagine how his actions looked from Race’s perspective.

He would have been freaked out, too.

He hung his head, sighing.  This wasn’t going how he’d wanted it to, but that goddamn kid never learned.  

“You fucked up.”

Jack resisted the urge to snap at his younger brother’s words.

“I know,” He said, “I know, I- yeah.”

“Like,” Albert stood, clearing his cereal bowl to the kitchen, “you really fucked up.”

Jack finally moved from where he stood, guilt weighing down his steps, “I know, Al.  Ya ain’t helpin’ no one by statin’ the obvious.”  He sank down onto the couch, dropping his head into his hands.

He felt the cushions sink beside him, but the air remained silent and thick between him and Albert.

“I jus’,” He ran his hands through his hair, sitting back up, “I wish I understood him, I wish I could get through ta him, but he’s so goddamn stubborn and impulsive that it don’t matter what I say.  He’s always gonna end up on the short end of shit.”

Albert looked thoughtful, fingers tapping idly on the arm of the couch next to him, “I mean, could be jus’ me thinkin’ things, but maybe it’d help your case if ya didn’t treat ‘im like one of those ‘handle with care’ packages.”

Jack furrowed his eyebrows, looking for the first time at Albert, “What d’ya mean.”

Albert shrugged, looking a little out of his depth, “I mean, I know you’re scared an’ all.  I am, too.  But, he’s right.  He ain’t a kid no more an’ I know he ain’t got the best track record on the whole safety front, but he can handle himself.”

Jack allowed his words to sink in, “I don’t doubt that he can-”

“Ya kinda do,” Albert cut him off, “I jus’ think he’d be a little more open to listenin’ to you and sharin’ shit if ya didn’t freak out at everythin’.”

Jack let out a resigned sigh.  Albert was right, he did need to trust Race a little more, but it was so hard when the prospect of losing him was so present so often.  He couldn’t stand it if anything were to happen to him.  He wish he’d known about Spot before the rumble, he wish he’d had the chance to be there for him; help him somehow.  But Race needed to let him in on his troubles in order for that to happen and looking back, Jack hadn’t necessarily created the best environment for that.

“You’re right,” he admitted after a long moment, “I needa trust ‘im more an’ fuss less.”

“Bingo,” Albert snapped.

“I should find him and talk ta him” He started to stand up, but Albert reached out a hand to stop him.

“No,” Albert said firmly, “let him come ta you.”

Jack let out a shaky breath, sitting back down, “Okay.”

XXX

Race didn’t return until nearly midnight.  He tried to sneak back in through the kitchen window, but Jack was still awake on the couch, waiting for him.  Race made it as far as the stairs before Jack’s tired voice froze him in place.

“Hang on a sec,” Jack called, closing the newspaper he’d been reading and tossing it onto the ground, “C’mere, I wanna talk ta ya.”

Race rolled his eyes, dragging his feet as he walked over, “If you’re jus’ gonna chew me out for runnin’ out earlier, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Nah, m’not gonna do that,” Jack pat the couch next to him and Race reluctantly sat down, “Jus’ listen for a minute, canya do that?”

Race shrugged, “Sure,” he sounded entirely uninterested and wholly pissed.  Jack couldn’t blame him.

“So, uh,” Jack steeled himself, “I was thinkin’ bout a lotta things an’...I owe you an apology.”

Race cocked his head, surprised, “ya what?”

Jack looked at him, holding eye contact, “I’m sorry for treatin’ ya the way I did, Racer.  I know you ain’t a kid and I know you can do things for yourself I jus’ worry, aight?  And I can’t help that none, but that ain’t an excuse ta make ya feel bad, so I’m sorry,” when Race said nothing, he continued, “It’s jus’ that you an’ Al are all I got and if something were to really happen to ya, I don’t think I could live with myself.  I meant it earlier when I said two close calls are more than enough,” he held up a hand when Race opened his mouth angrily, “and I know you ain’t like talkin’ about what happened in the garage, I’m not sayin’ we ever really gotta, but ya gotta swear ta me you’ll be more careful.  I won’t push ya none anymore, but ya gotta tell me when you’re in hot water an’ I know what happened earlier was jus’ roughhousin’, but what happened at the rumble wasn’t.”

Race opened and closed his mouth several times before looking away, blinking rapidly.  Then, all at once, his face crumpled, tears forcing their way out of his eyes.

“‘M sorry,” he choked, drawing his knees up to his chest, making him look younger, “I know I freak ya out too much an’ I know I don’t pick the best fights or make the best decisions, I jus’,” he took a moment to breathe, “I’m scared I think?  Like, shit in my head gets so loud sometimes and I jus’ needa kill the energy somehow, so I sneak off with Spottie or fuck shit up with the Socs.  It don’t do much, but it distracts me from the scary stuff and...I’m scared of what happens when I’m not distracted.”

Jack’s heart seemed to shatter in his chest, but he kept his face neutral, adhering to his promise of not overreacting, “Thank ya for tellin’ me that, kid,” he opened his arms, allowing Race to lean into him, “An’ we’re gonna figure this all out, okay?  We’s family, I ain’t gonna letcha be alone with the scary stuff.”

Race nodded against his neck and pulled away, wiping at his face, “Okay.”

Jack reached out, tapping his chin, “Lookit me, kid,” Race looked up, sniffing, “I love ya, okay?  I’ve gotcha.”

Race nodded, “I love ya, too.”

Jack clapped his shoulder lightly, “Aight, it’s still a school night.  Go on upstairs and get some sleep while ya can,” he paused, watching as Race stood to climb the stairs, “An’ I hope you don’t got homework.”

Race rolled his eyes, “I don’t,” he gave a small wave, “Love ya, Jackie, goodnight.”

Jack smiled, “Goodnight.”

He waited until he heard Race’s bedroom door close, then sat back against the couch.  Things were still far from calm in their little family, but everyone was there and everyone was safe.  And that’s what mattered.

-

yeehaw 

thanks for reading, chiefs

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[iggysmice]

a cautionary tale on making sure you stay sort of clean even when super depressed

tl;dr i got a medical problem that could’ve been avoided if i had managed to like, stay even sort of clean.

this is a readmore block because ~fuck~ mobile amirite bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

so i’ve been off my meds for a couple months now because i lost the bottle and insurance wouldn’t cover a new one for a while because that’s how insurance is and i don’t just have $50 to go buy medicine that i lost like a dumbass ok

so i’ve been very off-kilter and crabby and generally not wanting to do anything but sleep and listen to control by halsey on loop

so like, three-ish weeks ago i noticed a painful swollen area under my right arm, and im like “well we here at iggy’s body, home of Adult Acne and Questionable Hygeine get skin eruptions all the time it’ll go away in a few days but Ow for now i guess”

It got more painful so i go to aly (bless her) and go “hey look at my arm” and she goes “wow that’s a lotta skin eruption” and im like “yeah it hurts like a bitch please help” so we get dr aly in the 24 hour uninsulated bedroom to heat sterilize a needle with a bic and poke at the eruptions a little to see what we could do. (btw if any kids are reading this don’t do that we’re stupid tell your parents and go see a doctor)

in the end we decide to leave it alone and wrap it with a wad of toilet paper and an ace bandage to try and minimize the pain while it works itself out. i lived. with this thing. for two weeks. it just got steadily more painful. sometimes it would leak gross bloody stuff onto the toilet paper. once we got a really gross solid lump out of there. aly almost threw up. just touching the area near it sent me into Convulsions of pain. ibuprofen kind of dulled it for a while but that shit causes stomach damage so i didn’t wanna take too much of it.

so i called my grandma like “hey i need a ride to urgent care i can take the bus but i’m in a lot of pain and would rather not” and then dozed for another few hours. cut to me resisting the urge to write “ARM HURTY” in big letters on my paperwork at the urgent care clinic and hoping i can at least get some pain medicine so i can go home and go to sleep for a while. i stare into space and my brain is just “BAD LIP READING- Seagulls! (STOP IT, NOW) 10 hour remix”

they keep checking my blood pressure and i’m internally like “why is my blood so important my Arm is the Hurt Part” and then the doctor finally comes back and asks me if i drove there myself.

“i don’t drive, my grandma took me she’s waiting outside.” i responded in my usual manner of giving way too much information when one phrase will do.

“right well that looks pretty nasty and we can’t find your blood pressure so i’m gonna transfer you to the providence er because you should be there if it’s a systemic infection.”

i text my grandma and assure her i can get myself there if this is not the kind of commitment she wants to make at noon on a monday but she’s fine with driving me. i ask if we can stop at my house first so i can get my phone charger because er waits are long and my phone is almost dead. i’m already thinking how i won’t bother my parents with this because they’re both at work and im getting proper medical attention.

i get out to my grandma’s big ass old lincoln towncar and she’s just,, loudly into her phone “HEY YEAH HELLO KEN ITS YOUR MOM IM TAKING IGGY TO THE ER SOMETHUNG ABOUT BLOOD PRESSURE” and im like great this is What I Didn’t Want which is absolutely on brand for my grandma she doesn’t like. think.

we pick up aly and my phone charger and we go up to the other end of the city at now about 12:30 and i Really just want a nap and am considering bailing on the ER because i hate the ER and am tired.

Aly had to check in her pocketknife at the security counter because she forgot she had it in her purse so i was unsupervised again. the wall behind the reception desk wobbled a bit as i stared and waited for a receptionist to come. i kept glancing back at aly to assure myself that she was ok and there. the receptionist looked mildly concerned when i randomly brought up that the hospital would be a terrible place to be in a zombie outbreak. she then agreed with me. i considered this a victory for some reason.

a nurse looked my wound over and i went “yeah i haven’t slept in a while please help. also don’t touch it”

she left the room and i told aly that they’d probably use lidocaine or something if they had to manipulate it too much so i wasn’t that worried.

the doctor came in and told me she was going to firmly feel it and try to get a swab of the gunk inside to make sure i don’t have MRSA and im like “ok just be Careful please” and she just GRABS it and im like “HEY WOW OUCH WHY” and she swabs it and leaves and i just look at aly like “...fuck lidocaine i guess”

I end up with antibiotics, some wound dressing supplies and a painkiller that is like advil but not as damaging to my organs because they think that a zit or cluster of them got out of control and i had a multi-headed pocket of staph in my armpit now.

when i got home i looked at my paperwork and discovered that this entire time i’d been running a fever of about 100F and nobody had thought to mention that i had a fever or seemed like i did. the dressings were gross and full of bloody pus for a few days, the medicine made me throw up one morning and now i have a cold because of how much the antibiotics tanked my immune system around my parents and aly who all work with the public.

in conclusion wash your sweaty bits even if you’re depressed.

hey if you were rapidfire scrolling past this this is the end fuck mobile

[frostedpuffs]

Broken Hearts Club - Ch.7

Broken Hearts Club Summary: Upon confessing to their crushes, Marinette and Chat Noir both find out the hard way that those who hold the key to their hearts have affections for another. Rejected and blue, the pair find themselves in an odd sort of friendship, all while hiding the fact that they’d been the one to break the other’s heart. When feelings that hadn’t initially been within them begin to rise, they both have to come to terms with the fact that maybe the person they’d rejected means more to them than they had originally expected… Rated: T Pairings: Marinette/Chat Noir, Adrien/Marinette

Chapter 7 - Is This A Bad Time? Word Count: 6,093 Read on: ao3 | fanfiction.net

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The first thing that registered in Marinette's mind when she began to wake was that she was very, very comfortable.

The second was that muted sunlight was streaming through her eyelids and a dull, orange glow was just out of sight.

The third…

Well, the third was that someone was hugging her. Warm arms wrapped loosely around her waist and soft, short hair tickled the back of neck. The tip of a nose nuzzled against the little bit skin that wasn't protected by her supersuit as a breath blew against her shoulder. Marinette pressed into the source of heat behind her, which was slowly drawing back her in to the wonderful sleep she'd been experiencing moments before…

But then a quiet sigh rose up from her back, and she froze.

There was a person in bed with her. Someone was in her bed. It was quite a startling factor to wake up to considering she always slept alone.

Sitting bolt upright, Marinette's eyes snapped open as she gulped in a breath of air in tune with a gasp. Her gaze darted to the large hands that draped over her thighs, and she had to muffle a scream with her palm as she realized that she was definitely not at home in her own bed.

Shit!

Shutting her eyes tight, Marinette squealed softly into her gloved hands, very slowly recalling the events of the day. She'd gone to school, there had be an akuma attack; she'd fought alongside Chat Noir and purified Dreamscape's butterfly, which had been in his sleeping cap, and hadn't used her lucky charm...and she had also been very tired.

So tired that after she'd brought Adrien home, she had apparently fallen asleep in his bed.

With him.

Marinette allowed her eyes to open, and peeked at the boy to the left of her, tangled up in his blankets and blond hair a shaggy mess. His lips were slightly parted, and as he slept, his light-colored eyelashes twitched against his cheeks, signaling that he remained all the more unaware. And his hands-

Oh, god, his hands-

His hands rested lazily atop her thighs, jostled from her frightened awakening.

That meant he must have been...he must have…

He must have been holding her.

A squeak left Marinette's mouth as she buried her face deeper into her palms. She could feel the warmth of her skin through her gloves. She needed to leave. She needed to leave now and she knew she should have left earlier but god, she'd been so tired and she had made a very bad decision!

I cuddled Adrien! We totally cuddled!

They had cuddled once before...but that had been over a year ago on her fifteenth birthday, and they'd both been too tired to care, and Marinette had been considerably less embarrassed that time because she hadn't been Ladybug.

Adrien cuddled Ladybug. Did Ladybug cuddle Adrien? Did she snuggle him back? She had no way of knowing. (She partly doubted she had, though, considering it seemed like Adrien had been the big spoon.)

Breathing a heavy sigh through her nose and practically pulling out her hair, Marinette nibbled at her bottom lip, nervous and flustered and a complete mess. It was time to go! Time to leave! Time to go home and scream! Ding ding, Ladybug, this is your signal to go before Adrien wakes up!

"Okay, okay," she whispered to herself. One of her hands snaked down to gently lift Adrien's, positioning them on his sheets instead of her lap. She froze as he stirred, her heart beating so loudly in her chest that she swore it would disturb his sleep and wake him in an instant. Don't wake up, please don't wake up, Marinette internally begged. She did not feel like having to explain to Adrien why Ladybug, superheroine of Paris, had passed out in his bed.

She held her breath for approximately two seconds before she shifted, sliding her way off of the bed. One foot touched the floor, and she let out a sigh of relief as she was able to stand, plucking her yo-yo from her waist and inching her way towards the window. Just a few more steps. Just a few more steps and she'd be home-free and would have successfully avoided a very awkward conversation.

Pushing open the window, Marinette forced herself to resist the urge to spare one last glance at Adrien. She placed a foot on the windowsill and rose her arm, yo-yo at the ready-

"Ladybug?"

-and yelped.

"A-Adrien!" Marinette gasped and she turned, eyes as wide as saucers and cheeks redder than her suit. "Hey, uh, you're awake! Th-That's good."

Adrien was sitting up, his mess of blond hair making him look absolutely endearing. Puzzled, his lower lip jutted out in confusion, and he cocked his head to the side. "Did you bring me home?"

Was he blushing, or was that just her?

"Um." Marinette twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger, reverting back to her old nervous habit of nibbling her lower lip. "Y-yes. I did."

Adrien nodded, studying the wrinkled sheets. "Oh."

Marinette swallowed, silent.

Staring at her for a moment longer than what was comfortable, Adrien glanced at the side of the bed she'd been occupying not ten minutes before and held his gaze there. "...Okay. Thanks, Ladybug. I appreciate it."

"N-no problem!" Marinette's voice rose an octave. She wasn't entirely sure what to do with her hands, opting to just clasp them behind her back instead of waving them about. "A-anything for y-you, Adrien! It wasn't a problem!"

Adrien's stare settled on the rumpled blankets to his right. Quiet, he plucked at them and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it even further. The late afternoon sunlight that bounced off his skin practically made him glow, and his eyes shone like summer fields in the orange rays. His skin looked deliciously soft; Marinette knew from experience that the same arms that had been holding her earlier were very, very warm, and immeasurably comforting.

Adrien was gorgeous, no doubt. But he was also kind. And that—that was more important to Marinette than any looks he may possess.

A hum broke Marinette from her stupor, pupils dilating as she watched Adrien swing his legs to the side of the bed. He seemed contemplative, like he was thinking about something or considering whether or not he should ask a certain question. But then he graced her with one of his beautiful smiles, and Marinette knew in that moment she she was still so far gone.

Who was she kidding, thinking she was over this boy?

Adrien stood, walking towards her. "Really," he said, smiling, "thank you. I'm sure it was a lot better for me to nap in my bed than an alleyway." He scratched behind his neck—a nervous tick Marinette had picked up on years ago. "I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble."

Marinette furiously shook her head, feeling herself becoming increasingly more flushed with every passing second. "N-not at all, I promise! I didn't mind at all! You're not hard to carry! V-very, um...nice."

"Nice?"

Groaning under her breath, Marinette slapped a palm to her face. Nice. "Sorry, I should leave-"

"It's okay," Adrien said, his cheeks red. Marinette would have relished in the small victory of making him blush if they weren't in such a precarious situation. "You don't...you don't, uh, have to."

Her heart skipped a beat.

Had he just offered for her to stay…?

She could stay, if he wanted her to. She could stay forever. She could stay and lay back down with him and she could be the big spoon this time, and-

-and…

A sigh fell from her lips. Adrien barely knew Ladybug; he was probably just being polite. She needed to go.

"No, I do have to," she said, gesturing with her thumb to his window. "It's uh, past school and I missed my classes and my parents...wondering where I am...homedinner-—I mean, dinnerwork—ugh, sorryIgottagobye!"

She didn't allow herself another moment to embarrass herself as she swung out his window, nearing humiliation and cursing the entire way home.

Three missed calls.

Three missed calls and eight texts from Alya bombarded Marinette the moment she dropped through her trapdoor and went to check her phone.

"Crap," she hissed to herself, knowing that her best friend must be incredibly worried. She hadn't so much as given her a text after the akuma attack due to her exhaustion and now faced the consequences, guilt immediately washing over her in the form of concerned messages.

Messaging - Alya 10:52 A.M.: GIRL THAT AKUMA WAS WACK 10:52 A.M.: altho i admit i feel a lot better rested now 11:10 A.M.: hello mademoiselle marinette im talking 2 u 11:40 A.M.: nette are you okay you usually text back by now 11:43 A.M.: i s2g if dreambitch got to u im gonna find him and kick his ass 12:15 P.M.: MARINETTe 2:52 P.M.: you and adrien both arent back to school yet did u two take a nap together or something? without me? bc if you did thats rude and i feel left out 6:42 P.M.: MARINETTE IT'S LITERALLY ALMOST 7PM

Marinette sighed, smiling despite herself. At least she had Alya there to look out for her.

(Chat Noir too, of course.)

The second to last message caused a blush to creep back upon her cheeks, and she moaned into her palm. If only Alya knew how right she was.

Deciding to forgo that thought, Marinette typed out a quick reply letting her best friend know that she was home and safe before flopping backwards onto her bed. She wasn't tired any longer, but an uneasy feeling remained in the pit of her stomach.

What would Adrien think if he knew it had been Marinette next to him? Would that make him uncomfortable? Or would he not mind because she was a friend?

Would he have still cuddled her like he had…? And more importantly, did Adrien know he was cuddling Ladybug, or was it out of habit? Nino had once mentioned that Adrien always has to hold onto something while he sleeps, whether it be a pillow or, in her case, a person. And she'd very much enjoyed it.

She almost wished she hadn't left.

Adrien had been so peaceful, and the feeling of his arms around her waist had been so nice, and his face in her neck had been unbelievably warm. She could faintly recall the smell of his shampoo—vanilla mint tea—and buried her face within her pillow, biting it out of frustration. He smelled so good. He smelled so good and he felt so soft and warm and he was wonderful but more importantly, he wasn't hers.

He'd never be hers.

And here she was thinking she was finally getting over him…

"Marinette? Are you okay?"

Lifting her face from her pillow, Marinette met the indigo eyes of her kwami, which were large and full of a thousand questions. She reached out to cup Tikki in her palm and lifted her to her face, where their foreheads brushed together in a moment of comfortable silence shared by kwami and holder. Tikki pressed a tiny paw to Marinette's cheek, and Marinette leaned into the touch, her breath hitching slightly as a sudden urge to cry welled up so powerfully inside of her that she didn't even have a chance to resist it before the tears began pouring down her cheeks.

"Don't cry, Marinette," Tikki soothed, wiping her tears. "It's okay. I know it still hurts."

Marinette shook her head. "I'm not crying because it hurts," she said. "I'm crying because I'm mad at myself. I thought I was making progress, and that I was getting over him, and I was finally feeling happy today, but..." A muffled sob fell from her lips. "But I still like him. I still—I still love him. No matter how hard I try not to."

Tikki said nothing. Instead, she nuzzled her Chosen's hand, gazing up at her with round, sad eyes.

"It sucks," Marinette spat. "This sucks. I'm trying to find a positive outlook on this. I'm trying to be optimistic, I am. But it's hard. It's hard and I just...I just want the feelings to go away, Tikki…" Her voice grew very, very quiet. "...why won't they go away?"

Mulling over her words, Tikki's antennae drooped as she offered her Ladybug a gentle smile. "Love is something incredibly difficult to erase, Marinette," she said in a calming tone. "You can't force feelings to go away, no matter how badly you want them to disappear. Whether you want them or not...your affections for Adrien are there. You can try to suppress them, and you can try to ignore them, but...in the end, time is the only way you can heal."

Marinette's lower lip trembled as she let out a small, broken whimper. "But it's been over a month, Tikki. I've had time, and I'm still finding myself as infatuated with him as I was the day he gave me that dumb umbrella." As if to make her point, she shot an icy glare at the umbrella propped in the corner of her room, hoping to intimidate it. "I fell so hard and so fast and I feel so- so stupid."

"Don't call yourself that," Tikki scolded, flitting up to stare Marinette in her swollen eyes. "You are not stupid, Marinette. You're a teenage girl that fell in love with a boy. You're not stupid for that."

Marinette gave a noncommittal mumble and turned her back away from her kwami, dragging her duvet over her head. "If I'm not stupid then this whole situation is just one big stupid mess."

"Stop saying that word. It's not nice."

Marinette offered nothing more than silence in response.

Tikki rolled her eyes at her Ladybug's stubbornness and placed her paws on her tiny hips, hovering above Marinette's head. "Marinette, come on. Don't be like this. I want to help you."

"I'm sulking."

"The Marinette I know doesn't sulk."

Marinette tightened the blanket over herself and muttered an unintelligible reply.

Tikki's expression flattened. "The Marinette I know takes any bad spot she's gotten herself into and turns it around to something positive. Don't let some boy make you sour."

Marinette huffed, sitting up and kicking the blanket off of her legs. "He's not just 'some boy,' Tikki, that's the problem! He's amazing and wonderful and he- he's such a great friend, a friend I fell in love with and can't seem to get over-"

A knock on her trapdoor startled Marinette enough to cause her to yell and send an unfortunate stuffed cat flying. Tikki zipped off to hide, leaving Marinette to climb down from her loft and open the door, expecting to see her parents calling her down for dinner, but instead-

Instead it was Alya, the smile on her face immediately falling as she was met with the dejected expression of her sniveling best friend. She wasted no time, practically leaping into Marinette's room as she wrapped her in the biggest bear hug she could muster, squeezing her tight and rubbing her back in slow, comforting circles.

"Girl, what's wrong?" Alya asked as she fixed her glasses, which had been jostled from the hug. "Did something happen today?"

Marinette simply nodded. She silently begged the tears to stop, but they kept on, rolling down her cheeks and dripping onto Alya's shoulder. She felt slightly guilty at soaking her friend's scarf, but Alya seemed to pay no mind, more focused on the fact that her best friend was crying than the dampness of her clothing.

"Come on," Alya said. She gave Marinette a gentle push, signaling that she wanted her to go up to her balcony for some fresh air. "Let's go up, and you can tell me all about it."

One blanket and a hot cup of tea later, Marinette settled into the lounge chair that sat on her terrace, frowning down at the mug in her hands. The sun had recently set, leaving a faint pink glow over the city's blue horizon. With the sun resting, a chilly breeze came out to play, ruffling Marinette's hair and causing her to shiver as she clutched the blanket around her shoulders.

Winter would be arriving soon. Cold, bitter winter. An awful season that made her slow and tired and icy.

(The only upside was seasonal treats at the bakery and the occasional cup of homemade cocoa. Oh, and Christmas, of course.)

Pressing her palms into the warmth of her lavender mug, Marinette's shoulders drooped. Her muscles relaxed as the heat ran up her veins and into her arms. With a slight frown she remembered her favorite mug that Chat Noir had clumsily broken, and was reminded that she was waiting on him to bring her a new one. If he still planned to.

Not that it mattered all that much. She had plenty of mugs.

Scowling, Marinette set the mug down on the floor and rested her chin in her palm. She felt angry. She felt angry and frustrated and mad, and she didn't really have much of a reason to other than the fact that she hated that she was still in love with someone who didn't love her back.

Tikki said that only time could rid her affections, yes, but how much time?

She didn't want to hurt like this anymore. She didn't want to love someone who- who loved someone else.

"'Nette, what's got you so peeved?"

Pausing her silent interrogation of an innocent rose, Marinette sighed, feeling her face soften at Alya's sympathetic gaze. "Myself," she muttered, crossing her arms. The blanket fell from her shoulders but she couldn't bother to care.

Alya leaned back against the terrace railing. "Why're you mad at yourself?"

Marinette shrugged and looked away.

"Marinette, come on," Alya said. She quirked a brow at her friend's silent response. "Tell me what's going on in that beautiful little head of yours. You know I'm here to listen."

"It's silly," Marinette murmured. She didn't meet Alya's eye.

"If it's bugging you, it's not silly."

"It's really nothing."

Alya frowned at that. "Now look who's in denial."

"It's just-" Marinette squeezed her eyes shut. The urge to sob rose up in her throat again, but she fought it down with a heavy swallow. "I'm still having a really hard time dealing with my feelings. Every day I think I'm getting better, feeling happier, and then all of a sudden I see him and my world is turned upside down, putting me back at square one."

The identity of "him" went unspecified. Both girls knew exactly who him was.

"You can't help how you feel," Alya said, softly. She walked over to Marinette's rose bush and ran a delicate finger over some of the petals, brow furrowed as she found herself deep in thought. "Feelings are dumb and complicated but they're always gonna be there. You can't be mad at yourself for having them, girl."

Marinette heaved a sigh and scrubbed at her eyes. Her makeup smeared over her knuckles again, but she didn't mind; this was only Alya. She'd seen her in worse states. "But I still love him, Alya. I still love him so much and it fucking sucks because he's got feelings for someone else and I don't even know who they are! What is it about me that he doesn't like? I'm cute, aren't I?"

Sucking her teeth, the corner of Alya's lips quirked up just a tad at her friend's question. "Of course you are, Marinette. You're the cutest person I know. But the thing is," she said, plucking a rose from the bush and placing it behind Marinette's ears. "I know it might not be fun to hear it, but you aren't exactly entitled to Adrien's feelings. I get it: you want to be mad at him. But you know you can't. He's not at fault for his feelings, and neither are you."

Tears pooled from Marinette's eyes and flooded her cheeks. "I know," she whimpered. "I know, I know. I'm not mad at him. I'm mad at myself and I'm frustrated because of how I still feel about him. I just wish-" she buried her face within her hands, and her voice cracked. "I wish he hadn't told me he likes another person. You know how I get jealous. I wish- I just wish it would have been me."

Alya's frown deepened at the sight of best friend, normally confident and optimistic Marinette, reduced to a puddle of sobs because of a boy. Oh, this sucked. This sucked a whole lot and it was going to take a lot of time for her wounds to heal.

"C'mere," Alya said. She lifted her friend from the chair and sat down with her in her arms, allowing Marinette to curl up in her lap and blubber onto her favorite scarf. Oh, well. It could be fixed with a simple wash.

Marinette, however…

Marinette needed a lot more than a simple fix.

"It's okay," Alya whispered, hands running up and down her best friend's sides. "It's okay, 'Nette. This'll all go away eventually."

"I just want it to all be over and done with," Marinette croaked. "I messed things up between Adrien and I, Alya. We can barely look at each other anymore. It's so awkward, and there's so much that goes unsaid, and I feel like our whole relationship has gone back to how it was when we were fourteen. I stutter and I try to run away as quickly as possible, and even when I tell myself that I need to stop, I can't help it."

Alya patted her back. "Why do you want to run away from him, Marinette? I'm sure he's hurting some, too. He probably misses being your friend."

"I…" Marinette paused for a moment. She blinked her wet eyes, sniffling as her vision grew bleary. "I'm afraid that being around him is just going to remind me that- that I'll never be anything more than a friend to him, you know? That someone else is better. That someone else has captured his heart in a way I can never dream to. That…" Her voice grew so quiet that Marinette herself couldn't even tell if she was speaking. "That whoever that person is better treat him like he's their whole world, because he deserves it. I don't want him to hurt like I am."

"Is this a bad time?"

Both girls snapped their heads up to see a very embarrassed looking Chat Noir propped up like his namesake on the railing of the terrace, one hand gripping the metal and the other holding up a black mug with green pawprints, wrapped in a pretty red bow.

"Wh-" Alya began to cough, choking on her own words. "Ch-Chat Noir!? What in the hell?"

Chat nervously scratched at the back of his neck, cheeks heated underneath his mask. "Okay, so I'll just leave this here and leave. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything-"

Marinette was standing now, wiping at her face with her arm. She didn't meet Chat Noir's eye, clutching the blanket around herself as she spoke in a voice so feeble it was nearly inaudible, "It's okay."

Chat Noir went to set the mug on the floor, but instead paused, his ears drooping atop his mop of blond hair and gentle eyes softening. He went to move towards her, but Alya took a hesitant step in front of her best friend, unsure.

Chat remained where he was. "Are you...okay?" he asked Marinette, reaching out a hand before thinking better of it and retracting it to his side.

Marinette shook her head. She took the mug from his hand, holding it to her chest and running her thumbs over the smooth edges, inspected it closely. After a dreadfully long moment of silence, her lips twitched upwards into a small, barely-there smile. Her eyes met Chat's. With a broken chuckle, she said, "Thank you."

Chat Noir returned her smile, just so. "N-no problem, Marinette. Sorry I broke your other one. I told you I would bring you a new one, didn't I?"

"You did," Marinette replied with a nod. She looked down to the mug again. "It's nice. I like it, thank you."

"He broke one of your mugs?" Alya cut in, hands on her hips. "Um, I love you, Marinette, but were you planning on telling me that literal superhero Chat-fucking-Noir came to your house one day, broke one of your mugs and offered to buy you a new one? Like, holy hell!"

Marinette laughed quietly. "I was going to talk to you about it today, actually…but then Dreamscape attacked, and…" Her thoughts wandered back to the place she'd taken a nap earlier in the day—to the face of the boy she'd come to love so much—and her heart ached. "And…I…"

Both Alya and Chat's eyes widened as Marinette suddenly broke down into another fit of tears, falling to her knees and hugging them tightly to her chest, mug still in hand.

"Hey, hey, Mari," Chat Noir consoled, immediately crouching down on the wooden flooring to hover his hands over her shoulders. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"She won't tell me the whole story," Alya said. "She's stubborn like that."

Marinette covered her face with the fuzzy pink blanket that had thus far been her protector, miserable whimpers seeping from her throat. "It'd be easier if there was something bad about him," she cried. "It would be easier for me to get over him that way. But he's so- so g-good. And he's such a nice person, so k-kind and wonderful and caring, and so beautiful, and- god." Her sobs were coming full force now, and there was nothing she could do to stop them.

"Marinette," Alya said, her voice soft; comforting. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."

Chat Noir went silent, his pupils thinning for just a split second before he looked away, guilt heavy in his gaze. Alya spared him a curious glance but said nothing more, instead wrapping her best friend up in her arms and resuming rubbing her back.

"Shh," Alya whispered. She pulled Marinette close, hugging her tight. "It's alright, girl. I'm here, I'm here."

"I just wish things were different...I wish..." Marinette sighed, stopping where she was. There was no use dwelling over "I wishes" and "what ifs." She just had to accept the present as it was and move on from it. It was the only way she could get better. She needed to stay optimistic.

Marinette's wracking sobs eventually subsided to a gentle snivel, her eyes swollen and red and face drenched with smeared makeup and tears. She felt quite embarrassed that Chat Noir had seen her that way...but then again, he had seen her bloody and beaten as Ladybug, so it wasn't much of a difference...

Speaking of Chat, he wasn't saying much, was he?

Looking up from her tear-stained blanket, Marinette met Chat Noir's gaze and nearly flinched at the amount of sadness that swam within it. He looked so...so down, almost as if...almost as if he was lost in regret.

Did he regret coming to see her tonight? She wouldn't doubt it. She was a mess. He probably felt awkward.

"I'm sorry you guys have to see me like this," Marinette said. She didn't exactly feel like she needed to apologize for her feelings, but for the crying...well.

"It's okay," Alya said once more. She looked tired; Marinette felt bad for keeping her. It wasn't exactly early anymore, and there had been a sleep-inducing akuma roaming the city earlier that day. Perhaps she should just pretend she was okay so Alya could go home and get some rest.

"Are you-" Chat spoke up but had to pause to clear his throat, as his voice had wavered. "Are you going to be okay, Marinette?"

Marinette looked down at her hands. Black was smudged across her skin. Was she going to be okay?

True, she had been through worse in life. She was Ladybug—defender of Paris. She'd been beaten down by villain after villain, suffered injuries and done back flips off of the Eiffel Tower with Chat Noir by her side. She had stopped petty crimes, plenty of robbers or gunmen, and had even been shot in the arm, once.

(Of course Tikki's magic had fixed that as soon as she'd thrown her Lucky Charm into the air, but she could still remember how much it had hurt. The suits didn't protect them from everything, after all.)

Was the pain of not having her feelings reciprocated more agonizing than a bullet to the arm? Was it really?

It wasn't. No way.

She would get through this with her head held high. Even if she had to cry every now and then.

She was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Class president for two years and running, baker's daughter, winner of design competitions across Paris, and superheroine Ladybug. She would be just fine.

"Yes," she said confidently, using the blanket to wipe away her tears. "Yes. I'll be okay, Chat Noir. You don't have to worry about me." She looked to Alya, a hint of a smile toying at the corners of her lips. "And you don't have to either, Al. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. If I can jump off a building, I can handle heartbreak."

Alya seemed pleased with her statement for a moment before her face contorted with confusion, and her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "Excuse me? Jump off a building? Marinette, what the fuck? What do you do in your free time, parkour?"

Chat Noir's ears snapped up in surprise. "You shouldn't do that, Mari! You'll break a bone or something, oh my god! Just because Ladybug and I do it doesn't mean it's safe for you to!"

Marinette clapped a hand over her mouth as she realized her slip-up. Heh, that was two Ladybug-related accidents today…

"Joking!" she laughed, quite forcefully. "I was- I was, erm, joking...haha..."

Alya and Chat Noir shared a puzzled look before they gave in, somewhat convinced. They sat in a circle for a few moments, the terrace quiet save for the distant sound of cars whizzing along the street or the occasional group of people that walked down below. Chat's tail idly brushed the flooring as it swished back and forth, and Alya tapped her nails on the hardwood, before she cocked her head and frowned thoughtfully.

"Why do you call her that, by the way?" she asked, staring at Chat Noir.

Chat looked up from the streaks of wet makeup on Marinette's blanket. "Call who what?"

Alya glanced at Marinette before her eyes settled back on the black-clad superhero. "You call Marinette, 'Mari.' That was sort of a nickname someone else gave her."

Marinette glowered at that.

"Oh, um," Chat said, looking away. "I dunno, uh, I guess...cuz it fits? You know, shorten Marinette to Mari, just like you shortened it to 'Nette earlier, uh...nicknames. Cute." He offered a helpless (almost painful looking) shrug, and couldn't exactly hold his eyes on anything for longer than a second at a time.

"Oh," was all Alya could say.

Another silence passed between them, more awkward than the last.

"So how long have you two been like...visiting each other?" Alya asked.

"He doesn't visit me," Marinette answered quickly, hugging her knees. "He just passed by the other night and accidentally knocked my mug off of the railing."

Chat Noir shrugged helplessly and offered a strained chuckle. "Yeah…she threatened to hit me with a broom."

Alya immediately erupted into laughter, and Marinette snorted, giving Chat a light tap on the shoulder. "I did not!"

"I can see you doing that," Alya snickered, wiping a tear from her eye. "You'd totally whack someone with a broom."

Smirking, Chat Noir bumped Marinette's shoulder with his own, leaning down so that they were eye-level. Even when sitting, he was so much taller than her. "She wouldn't have the heart to injure a poor stray like me. Would you, Marinette?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Marinette retorted with a grin of her own, pushing his face away with a finger pressed to his nose. Chat laughed in response and shot her a toothy smile.

Alya narrowed her eyes at their behavior. To her, it seemed as if...as if they knew each other or something…

A weird feeling tugged at her stomach, but she elected to ignore it. That gesture was just a little too familiar for her tastes.

"Well," Marinette said after a moment. "I'm tired, and I need to eat dinner and take a shower. Alya, you can join if you want."

Chat Noir's face flushed and the brows of his mask shot up into his hairline. "Um-"

"She meant for dinner," Alya laughed, knowing what she'd meant. "Although if she was offering me to shower with her, I wouldn't say no. Girl's got a pink shower and the best smelling soap in the world. It's cute as hell."

Marinette grinned at Chat Noir's expression and rolled her eyes, opening up the latch of her trapdoor. "Goodnight, Chat Noir," she said, voice and eyes soft in thanks. "I love the mug, by the way. I think it's my new favorite."

Chat Noir's cheeks warmed at that, and a wide grin spread across his face.

As Marinette jumped down onto her bed and the door shut, Alya stood and placed her hands on her hips, regarding Chat with a smile. "It was kind of bad timing for you to stop by tonight," she chuckled, shaking her head, "but thanks. Marinette's been having a hard time lately and needs all the friends she can get. I think that mug cheered her up, too."

Chat Noir responded with a weak smile of his own, pushing himself to his feet and dusting off his backside. "Yeah...sounds like she's taking rejection pretty hard. Whoever hurt her must be a real asshole."

"He's not," Alya assured. She crossed her arms, unappreciative of the name he'd unknowingly given to one of her closest friends. "He's like a literal puppy—nicest guy in the whole world. She just...she just loved him a lot, you know? It was weird. They weren't dating, but she loved him like they were. I think that's why it's hitting her so hard...I don't think she ever thought he would have feelings for somebody else."

"O-oh," Chat whispered. His ears drooped and his tail sat still, dragging on the floor. "That...must be hard for her."

Alya nodded, but gave the superhero a wink, patting him on the shoulder. "Yeah, but she's the strongest girl I know. As strong as Ladybug, even. She'll get through this just fine."

Chat Noir swallowed and met her honey eyes, forcing the smile to stay on his face. "I hope so."

A quietude fell between them. Alya opened her mouth to say something more, but the sound of the trapdoor opening caused her to turn, Marinette's head poking out from the opening with a curious expression on her face.

"Alya, you coming?" she asked, face clean and rid of the black smudges from before. "My mom said there's dumplings and vegetables in the fridge if you want some."

Alya's stomach growled at the sound of dinner, and she nodded. "Coming, 'Nette," she said, before turning back to Chat Noir. "See ya, alley-cat. Say hi to Ladybug for me, will you?"

Chat nodded. His throat feeling tight. "I-I will," he said. "I'll do that. Goodnight."

And then he was gone, shakily vaulting over Marinette's terrace and into the dark of the night. Alya stood there for a moment longer, unmoving, mind reeling with thought after thought.

Chat Noir wasn't acting like himself...where was the cocky, arrogant cat that flirted with Ladybug and had an arson of puns at his ready?

He looked...sad. Hurt. Perhaps even a little regretful.

And since when were he and Marinette acting so chummy?

Humming thoughtfully, Alya turned and went to slip back into Marinette's room. Something was definitely off with that cat, and the reporter within her vowed do whatever she could to get to the bottom of it.

[sadrien]

goodbyes & hellos

on ao3

im so so so late but hey this is for first day of prompt week for @thinkoutsidethelovesquare​!!!! day one: wrong number

this was a lot of fun tbh and ive been dying to write this ship. alyas texts are italicized, adriens are underlined on ao3, just bold here bc tumblrs a butt. shoutout to @reyxa​ for the title <3

enjoy!

Alya narrows her eyes at the new message that lights up her phone. It’s an unknown number that she doesn’t recognize — not that she’s given her number to anyone recently — and it’s also seven in the morning . Anyone how knows her at all should know that she doesn’t wake up before at least nine on the weekends. (And that has nothing to do with the fact that she doesn’t sleep during the week and tends to go to bed after two in the morning.)

She groans as another message shows up on the screen. She squints and lets the messages flow in, figuring she can tell the person they’ve got the wrong number after they’ve finished whatever they have to say. Or she can decide that it’s unimportant and ignore it and go back to sleep.

She likes her second plan the best.

unknown number: Hi!

unknown number: Just wanted to let you know the start time for today has been moved from 10 to 9:15

unknown number: My father has a meeting at 1300 so he wants to get it all done as soon as possible

unknown number: And I know you mentioned wanting to have him on set yesterday

unknown number: I hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience! Your agent should be calling you soon, but I thought I’d give you a heads up

Alya squints at the screen. She doesn’t want to care but she’s curious. And curiousity killed the cat and all that but she’s used to letting her nosiness get the best of her.

unknown number: agents???

unknown number: 1st of all srry u have the wrong number

unknown number: 2nd of all were u talking to a movie star or smth???????

unknown number: book writer??

unknown number: what kinda person needs an agent

unknown number: Oh I’m sorry! I must’ve gotten the wrong number from someone

unknown number: I’m really sorry if I was bothering you

Alya rolls her eyes.

unknown number: u woke me up but its chill cause now im curious

unknown number: Curious? About what?

unknown number: way 2 keep avoiding the question

unknown number: ???

unknown number: u said the person u meant to text has an agent

unknown number: how fancy r they

unknown number: Oh! She’s a model!

Alya’s eyes widen. The most famous person she knows is that thirteen year old that was in her school who has ten thousand subscribers on YouTube because she makes lyric videos. The second is a boy who has a few thousand instagram followers because he has nice abs and lots of white boy clothing and muscle shirts.

unknown number: u kno a model????????

unknown number: Uhh

unknown number: I’m not sure how much personal information I should be giving to a stranger

Alya sighs. So close.

unknown number: its fine dude (dude? u good w that? lmk if u arent) i getchu

unknown number: u can just stop responding if u dont wanna talk

She locks her phone and slides it back under her pillow. She stares at the ceiling for a few more minutes, wondering if she’ll be able to fall back asleep. As much as she’d like to take the train back to dreamville, she can’t. Because now she’s awake and now she’s wondering. And once she stops wondering, she doesn’t stop.

She’ll probably stop thinking about this random wrong number in a few days and in a few months, she’ll forget about them entirely but…

Ugh.

Sleep definitely isn’t an option anymore.

Leaving her phone in her bed, she pads to the kitchen, twisting her hair up into a messy bun as she does so. No one is up yet — of course they aren’t, it’s seven on a Saturday and everyone is taking advantage of every precious minute of sleep they can get — so she has the run of the house to herself.

So she makes herself some coffee and a bowl of cereal and turns to television on. Her initial plan is to just leave it on whatever channel that’s playing when she first turns it on, and luckily the twins were the last ones to use it. Saturday morning cartoons. Score.

Alya stirs sugar in her coffee as Cyber Chase plays in the background. It’s not much more than background noise, it’s the middle of an episode and she doesn’t really know what’s happening, but she does snort at a few of the bad jokes.

“You’re up early,” her mom says before dropping a kiss on the top of Alya’s head.

Alya hums. “Got a few text messages and they woke me up.” She notes how her mom purposefully avoids eye contact as she opens a cabinet. Alya rolls her eyes and eats a spoonful of cereal.

“School friends?” her mom asks carefully.

“Yes,” Alya lies. Better than her mom asking more questions. The biggest one being why were you talking to a complete stranger?

“Are you going to see them before we leave?”

Alya glues her eyes to the TV. “If they’re around.”

Her mom makes an unimpressed sound and Alya resists the urge to roll her eyes. She texted a few of her friends the other week, but the conversation was awkward and stilted. They all had the same sort of idea about cutting ties.  

Alya sighs and puts down her spoon, twisting around in her seat to face her mom. “I promise I’m talking to them.”

Her mom gives her that look— the one where her lips purse and a crease between her eyebrows that’s becoming more and more permanent; the one that says she wants to push for more details, but won’t unless they’re volunteered first. Which Alya is not doing, thank you very much. “If you say so, honey,” her mom says, turning her attention to the breakfast she’s making.

Alya stares down into her cereal bowl.

Time to evacuate to her bedroom.

She finishes her cereal as quickly as she can without choking and dumps her bowl and spoon in the sink as she passes it, taking her coffee with her to her room. New plan: curl up in bed with her laptop and hope her mom just leaves her alone until they move.

Alya’s almost forgotten about her phone by the time she flops onto her bed. It vibrates almost as soon as she opens her laptop. She frowns as she pulls it out from under her pillow.

unknown number: Dude is fine for me

unknown number: He/him pronouns please

unknown number: Thanks for asking I really appreciate it, actually

unknown number: People don’t always ask

Plan trashed. This is a better plan.

unknown number: she/her for me

unknown number: and no prob man

unknown number: i wasnt gonna assume ur gender

unknown number: ok that mightve sounded bad but i didnt mean it in a bad way like the ‘lol dont assume my gender’ way jerks do sometime i meant it in like a genuine

unknown number: if u have smth u wanna say u should say it because i am very tired and i can go on for a while

Whoops.

Alya can’t say she’s known for her stellar first impressions but she usually doesn’t ramble her way into an awkward corner. She mindlessly flips through apps as she waits for a response.

unknown number: Don’t worry about it! I didn’t take it the wrong way or anything

Alya smiles to herself as she responds. He keeps leaving her openings which is nice. Based off his initial reaction, she thought he’d shut this down as fast as possible.

She realizes this is probably a little weird. But it’s the most exciting thing to happen to her since school let out so…

unknown number: so whats up stranger??

unknown number: b4 u ask im just sitting in my room doing nothing but text u so thats my morning

unknown number: I actually have work soon, so that’s fun

Alya raises her eyebrows. She forgot age was something else she didn’t know yet.

unknown number: oo work that sounds fun

unknown number: what do u do???

unknown number: I work for my dad, it isn’t anything special

unknown number: But it gives me something to do with my time so I don’t mind that much

unknown number: If I randomly stop responding without warning, that’s why

unknown number: good 2 kno

unknown number: can i ask what u do 4 ur dad or is that 2 personal

unknown number: I uh… I just do whatever he needs me to do

unknown number: I don’t get paid or anything but

unknown number: ay it still works as a resume builder

unknown number: Yeah exactly!

unknown number: thats cool that ur dad can get u a job!! my mom and dad could never w their jobs so i just suffer

unknown number: not that thats any different from what i would do anyway as a teenager

Alright, perfect. She’s brought up the age question in a really clunky and awkward way. Better than nothing.

unknown number: Oh how old are you?

unknown number: I’m 15

Alya lets out a sigh of relief.

unknown number: ayy same!

unknown number: just ur fav teenage superhero blogger

unknown number: doing nothing with her life

unknown number: You like superheroes?

unknown number: yeah!! i love comic books. you??

unknown number: I don’t have time to read many but yeah! I’ve always loved Spiderman

unknown number: wonder woman is my g i r l

unknown number: superheroes are just so cool

She waits a few minutes before she decides that he must have gone off to work. Bonding over superheroes, that’s good. A shared interest. She scrolls through their conversation, rereading some of the earlier messages before she creates a contact for him. She makes the name ‘stranger’ and leaves it at that.

It’s not like they’re meeting up or anything. Even if he is an ax murderer, can’t kill her if she never sends him her location.

Alya spends the next couple of hours avoiding her mom as much as possible. She takes her sisters to the park and then goes to the library after she brings them home.

She doesn’t want to talk about it.

She’s clicking through a webcomic that she missed a few weeks worth of updates when her phone buzzes. She glances down, expecting it to be a text from her mom asking if she has any plans or to do chores or something, but is pleasantly surprised to see a message from her stranger.

stranger: Sorry about that, work ran long

stranger: Admittedly, I don’t know very much about Wonder Woman, but she looks very awesome

unknown number: !!!!

unknown number: when ive got more time remind me to tell u all abou t her

unknown number: and to rec some comic books even if u dont have time

stranger: Is she your favorite?

Alya sits back in her chair. This conversation is going to be a long one.

Alya finds herself randomly texting her stranger for the next few days. He doesn’t always respond quickly, but he responds eventually, no matter how weird her original message.

That’s more than she can say for most of her friends.

She texts him as she’s sitting on the counter in her kitchen, stirring a pot.

unknown number: hey stranger whats up

stranger: Just reading, you?

unknown number: making box mac n cheese

stranger: Sounds fun

unknown number: yeah im gonna eat it straight from the pot

The three dots bounce on the screen as the stranger takes his time with the next message. Alya snorts and turns off the stove, straining the pasta and moving to the fridge to find butter and cheese. He’s found his words by the time she’s letting the butter melt in the pot.

stranger: Straight from the pot? Why?

unknown number: because i live life on the edge

unknown number: and also because im too lazy to clean the dish later

stranger: You know what? That’s fair

Sometimes, Alya thinks that she probably shouldn’t think about someone who she doesn’t even know the name of as often as she does, let alone text him as much as she does. But sometimes she’ll see something, and she’ll immediately think of him. Or she’ll just be randomly upset and feel the strong urge to pick up the phone and see if he’s available to vent to.

She knows it’s kind of weird, but she can’t help herself.

One night, at around two in the morning, she finds herself messaging him.

unknown number: hey did i ever mention i was moving

She’s almost asleep, slightly more okay than she was before she sent the text, when he responds.

stranger: You haven’t but we also don’t talk about where we live

Alya stares at the screen for a long moment, the bright light in the darkness making everything on the screen blur into nothing. She just feels kind of numb.

unknown number: yeah

unknown number: like 8 hours away from where i live now

stranger: Wow that’s a big move

unknown number: yeah

stranger: I’m guessing you don’t want to go?

unknown number: not really

unknown number: did u know ur my only friend right now

stranger: I am?

unknown number: me and my other friends sort of cut ties

stranger: The internet exists

stranger: Phones exist

stranger: FaceTime and Skype both kind of suck, but they exist

unknown number: yeah i guess

unknown number: i guess its just too hard for any of us to try

stranger: I have no idea how far apart we live

stranger: We’re doing just fine

unknown number: yeah

unknown number: yeah ur right

One of Alya’s small comforts that comes to mind whenever she thinks about moving is the fact that she’ll have her phone on her and a portable charger. Her stranger will be with her every step of the way.

He’d managed to get her to talk to some of her friends. She doesn’t really think it’ll last once she’s in Paris, but the attempt is nice. And it gives her other people to talk to for the rest of the summer.

It’s too early in the morning when they leave for the last time for her to get really emotional about moving. All she has the energy to do is to take a picture of her old apartment, caption it ‘one last goodbye to marseille’, and save it before sending it to her friends over Snapchat. Before she falls asleep against the car window, she texts it to her stranger.

She wakes up to a new text among the goodbyes from her friends.

stranger: Have a nice car ride! I’ll let you know when I get back from work <3

Alya hides her smile from her sisters and screenshots the text for later.

She texts him from the floor of her new bedroom while her dad starts moving boxes. They’ve been in the process of moving for a while now, shipping most of their things to Paris beforehand. Now all that remains is the actual unpacking.

Alya doesn’t have the energy for that. She just lays on the floor and stares at the ceiling for a while. Then she picks up her phone and sends him a text.

It’s been about an hour since they last talked. She’d talked to him for a good majority of the car ride, only stopping when he was busy and ending the conversation when they arrived so she could get her things out of the car and help her sisters with theirs. She’d sent him a picture of her empty bedroom and said ‘let the unpacking begin :P’. He’d responded with a ‘Good luck!!’ and ‘I’ll let you get to work!’

Alya’s thumb hovers over the send button for a few seconds. She’s never really pushed him for any sort of personal information before.

New city, new Alya. Or something.

unknown number: hey just wondering

unknown number: what do u have me in ur phone as??

unknown number: i have u in here as stranger

stranger: Your contact name?

stranger: Uh awkward but you don’t?

stranger: You’re the only one I just have the number for, so I know who you are that way

Alya reads his texts a few times before she responds. She doesn’t know what she expects in return, but she figures she has nothing to lose.

unknown number: im alya

unknown number: in case u were wondering

stranger: Hi Alya

stranger: I’m Adrien

[viralhottopics]

39 Cheaters Confess Why They Did It

Found on AskReddit.

1. I was horny, end of story.

I was horny, end of story.

2. I was amazed that guys wanted me and selfishly let myself enjoy it.

I was amazed that guys wanted me and selfishly let myself enjoy it. Until I was cheating for months at a time and realized that if someone told me about a girl doing what I was doing, I’d think she was the scum of the Earth. Broke off both relationships that day and worked on feeling good by myself.

3. Why the fuck do you think? Because I was a piece of shit who wanted to have sex.

I cheated on my first serious girlfriend with another girl for a period of about four months, even after she found about it. She fucking called me or whatever almost every night and screamed and cried and whatever and I still kept doing it.

Why did I do it? Why the fuck do you think? Because I was a piece of shit who wanted to have sex. Everyone in this thread is going to have long, drawn-out explanations about their mental state or whatever, but the fact remains that it’s fundamentally about a lack of self-control. It’s like someone who drinks too much, eats too much, whatever. It’s just being a greasy piece of shit. It’s not that complicated or interesting.

I ended up dating the girl I cheated on my girlfriend with for about 5 years without cheating, then she dumped my ass and was engaged about 6 months later (so, she was probably cheating on me in other words) in case anyone wanted to get some karmic justice out of this story.

4. Because she withheld sex for a year and a half.

I cheated on my ex for a long time because she withheld sex for a year and a half. Obviously, she has a right to say no to sex, as does anybody, but she purposely withheld it for a year and a half because I forgot to clean the shower one day. I don’t know why I stayed with her to be honest and Im not even sorry about it.

5. After five years without a woman’s touch, it does get lonely.

I cheated once. I put myself through the wringer for months. I’ve never cheated on anyone since. I had right too during a bad marriage, I never did. After five years without a woman’s touch, it does get lonely.

6. I love meeting new women and making them orgasm.

I really wish I could settle down with one woman. I have cheated on every single GF I have ever had and two wives. The only woman I never cheated on was married! It lasted 2.5 years and her husband never found out. I am not a sociopath and I feel guilty as hell but I love meeting new women and making them orgasm. After all the practice, I have gotten quite good at that. Still, wish I could stop…

7. I cheated because I like sex, and my husband is not always around to provide it.

I cheated because I like sex, and my husband is not always around to provide it, being away with work (USMC) for months at a time sometimes. I don’t deny being weak willed. The same reason I’m a smoker I imagine.

8. Because I was a terribly selfish person.

Because I was a terribly selfish person. Why I am that way is presumably a combination of genetics and upbringing. Now that I’m older I’m a much better person with much more self-control.

But basically I was young, attractive, and women would basically just offer to sleep with me. Honestly I’m not sure unattractive men can appreciate how hard it is to resist women when they purposefully make themselves available.

9. They were boys and I needed a man.

I cheated on both my boyfriends before I met my husband, who I never cheated on. Why I cheated on the two first ones? They didn’t give me what I needed, despite me asking for it. They were boys and I needed a man. Found someone who fucked me like a man and went for it. Then I met my husband and never looked back.

10. It helped my self-esteem enough to give me the confidence to leave my abuser.

Woman here, was in an abusive relationship that I was frightened to end. Confided in a close friend and we had a short-lived intimate relationship that showed me how kind and respectful people can be and helped my self-esteem enough to give me the confidence to leave my abuser.

I am so thankful that I slept with that friend, it turned my life around for the better.

11. I lost all attraction to my ex (little to begin with).

I lost all attraction to my ex (little to begin with). Didn’t brush his teeth, didn’t want to work out with me, cried a lot over nothing, didn’t shower sometimes or forget to wear deodorant. Then wanted to cuddle or have sex and get mad at me for being disgusted by him because his dick would smell bad.

So after 2 years of that I met my current boyfriend we were friends at first but the attraction was definitely there. At first I just really wanted to fuck him but then I fell for him. Tried to suppress that shit given my ex tried to kill me for talking to my female friends but thought … fuck it.

We were talking one night and I guess he got me to admit that my ex was abusive. He at first didn’t want to be a home wrecker but the fuck it I want you though was his too and holy shit… I knew I wasted 5 years of my life but my current boyfriend showed me everything I was missing.

Then I planned out to get my shit together and leave, he tried to kill me again and stalked me for a while but I think he’s stopped. We are hundreds of miles away so I feel better about it.

Was it right? Probably not, do I care … nope.

12. I was in a bad marriage.

I was in a bad marriage. He refused to get a job and was an emotionally abusive man and always blaming me for the problems we were having. (the big problem was we didn’t have enough money) I suffer from depression and due to all of this fighting it was getting worse.

Out at a gathering of friends I meet a guy and he’s funny and we have lots in common and it was a start of something. And I cheated. I told this guy that I was married and that I was conflicted but he said he wouldn’t push me and that he was interested in me, but wouldn’t do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. But I did it and he was so different from my selfish husband.

This guy helped me get the guts to leave my husband. I told him that I wanted a divorce soon after and this new guy helped me in any way he can. I’m still with him over 4 years later.

I know that what I did wasn’t the best way to go about it. I know I hurt my husband when he found out that I had been cheating, but finding the right person to get me out of the situation and finding someone who really cares about me is the real story.

13. I have come to understand that I am not someone who can be happy in a completely monogamous relationship.

I have cheated in previous relationships. I have come to understand that I am not someone who can be happy in a completely monogamous relationship. And there’s nothing wrong with thatas long as I don’t make monogamous commitments to others that I know I won’t keep.

So while I don’t think I would cheat again, I also wouldn’t enter into a monogamous relationship again. Monogamy makes me feel trapped and anxious and amplifies all my desires to stray. The idea of it (for myselfit works just fine for others) honestly makes me feel sick. When I’m in an open relationship, I feel much more relaxed, and I don’t actually pursue other partners very often. It makes me happy just to know I could if I wanted to.

If you’re looking for an “excuse”I guess I forgive myself for my past cheating partially because it’s so ingrained in our culture that relationships be monogamous. When you’re growing up and starting to explore sex and romance, you’re never encouraged to stop and think about whether monogamy works for you or makes you happy. It’s just the way things are. So I can understand why it took me a while to figure out that it didn’t work for me, and that that didn’t mean I was broken or immoralI just needed a different type of relationship in order to be a good partner. Yes, it would have been better for me to figure that out without cheating, but I honestly don’t know if I would have. Still, I do accept some responsibility.

14. I cheated on my last partner because he was a piece of shit who didn’t let me break up with him.

I cheated on my last partner because he was a piece of shit who didn’t let me break up with him because if I did he would have committed suicide and I didn’t want to feel like it was my fault.

15. I started cheating because I felt trapped.

At first I simply didn’t think about it, when I first started early high school. I was always real nerdy and awkward. Girl showed an interest in me? I jumped at it because it was so rare. Then I grew into my head a little bit more, got some coordination and confidence, and more girls showed interest. So I jumped at those chances too. I didn’t get caught, so I never saw the hurt it could cause. I guess it was just the innocence that I didn’t know what I was doing.

Until I did, I got caught, and I’m sure it hurt her. She became paranoid and eventually abusive and toxic. I’ll never know why we didn’t end it there. I started cheating again because I felt trapped. She threatened to kill herself when I tried ending it, it was my only way to feel like I still had control over my life. This continued for years. I cheat, she gets paranoid, abuses me, I go out and cheat again to reassure myself that I’m still my own person.

I finally got tired and left her and figured that if she killed herself… Well at least I’d be free. She was bluffing though. We went our separate ways.

Now I’m with someone I consider to be the love of.my life, there’s no urge to cheat anymore, but I’m still forever paranoid that karma is going to rip this away from me. But honestly tldr I just didn’t have self-control, and I think that’s what it boils down to in the majority of cases.

16. Took me a long time to learn that monogamy wasn’t really my bag.

I’ve cheated on multiple partners, multiple times. Mostly just because I wanted someone and I could, sometimes because I was lashing out at problems in the relationship. Took me a long time to learn that monogamy wasn’t really my bag. Then got into an open relationship and didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would. So basically I’m now pretty confused about what I want.

17. I just felt like I was trapped.

I cheated on my ex of three years. It was a toxic and abusive relationship. He got me to move hours away from my family and I had no one. He had cheated on me before and put me down the whole time, like I just felt like I was trapped. I started confiding in a friend from back home and got very emotionally attached to him without even realizing at first what I was really doing. Then it became obvious I was a lot happier when interacting with said friend than the boyfriend I lived with. I finally ended the relationship, moved back home and started dating him.

We’ve been together for almost 8 months now and let me tell you, it feels so great to even breathe without someone yelling at me about it.

18. I ventured towards a friend that gave me attention, and it was refreshing.

I take full responsibility for cheating and fully understand what I did was terrible and poorly handled. My boyfriend of two years was the center of my family’s whole world. I was severely ill during this time and felt as though his attention and the attention of my family should have been on me, selfish I know. So I ventured towards a friend that gave me attention, and it was refreshing. Our relationship became intimate and lasted for a few months. I ended up telling my bf and we split shortly afterwards.

19. Primarily because there is an instinctive urge to.

The same reason people eat. Not because they need to do that to survive and have energy, but primarily because there is an instinctive urge to. The amount of urge to eat, and cheat, is different for different people.

Cheating in all forms can give someone an advantage over others.

In males, sperm is cheap and it leads to more offspring being left behind.

In females it can allow you to create offspring with the traits you find attractive, while having someone else provide for you or the child that is more capable at that job.

Is this what goes through peoples heads? Of course not, people use contraception. But just as you don’t eat food to stop yourself from dyinginstead because it’s an impulse with an urge and a rewardcheaters are acting on an impulse with an urge and a feeling of reward.

People that feel that urge greater than others might end up overweight, or more promiscuous, and if asked to explain why they do it, they’ll probably try and rationalize it, and maybe there are some real triggers, but it boils down to the feeling they get from it.

That feeling has been naturally selected for. Other social animals cheat, too.

Part of cheating in a social group that remembers faces and gives them reputations is to not be caught. It is advantageous to not be caught. It makes sense you’d get a rush from knowing nobody knows what you’re up to; it means you’re doing it right.

What it’s not is a conscious decision to hurt someone and be selfish. Does it hurt someone, and is it selfish? Yes, but that’s not it exists or people do it. Just as obese people don’t eat to destroy their bodies and the lives of their enablers. They do it because it’s an impulse that they don’t control, for whatever reason.

Other animals without the capacity to think in the capacity we can about concepts like ‘hurt’ or ‘selfishness’ do it too.

20. Sometimes because of crazy attraction, sometimes because of the thrill of it being ‘wrong’ and perverse.

I’ve done it multiple times. In each case, there was someone else that I met and had sexual energy with (But not much energy of any other kind)sometimes because of crazy attraction, sometimes because of the thrill of it being ‘wrong’ and perverse, sometimes because of something elseand we acted on it. Never prolonged, usually just a few times at most. Multiple times, the other party was also in a relationship and cheating as well and in every case, they knew I was in a relationship.

In all cases, no one ever told anyone and no one ever found out. In all cases, it had literally zero affect/impact on my existing relationship and didn’t alter the way I felt about my SO or how we interacted. It just happened and myself and the other party would move on and go back to our relationships and be happy.

Given what I had read and seen in media and online and elsewhere, I kept waiting for some kind of crushing guilt to come down on me or for it to come out or blow up or something. It never did. Didn’t even alter my existing sex life with my partners. Life moved on, it felt good, and then…nothing happened. The reality, which I think most here would find it hard to swallow, is that most adulterous relations are probably like my situation and not like the ones you read about. I think most people who cheat completely get away with it, they keep their mouths shut about it and never bring it up, and nothing ever comes of it.

21. Emotional protection. But it backfired.

Emotional protection. But it backfired.

I had been cheated on by two different people in my life, I got bitter and thought Every woman cheats. So I got into a new relationship (with the best-looking woman I have ever dated) and decided to cheat so that WHEN she cheats I can just be like, ‘ha-ha, I cheated a long time ago.’ So about a month into an “exclusive” relationship I got together with an old GF, then drive right to my new GF’s house and had her do oral on my still dirty self.

She turned out to be he girl of my dreams. I fell in love and got engaged. Things went south 2 weeks before we were to get married.She found out, then cheated on me with her ex-boyfriend2 weeks before I was moving to her city (120 miles away) and getting married.

More and more I realize how amazing of a woman I lost.

22. I like validation and pulling intimacy out of people.

I like validation and pulling intimacy out of people… After a while I know enough about the person I’m with that I get bored and find someone else for fresh validation and intimate knowledge.

I’ve had three long-term relationships that lasted four years each and a lot of experiences (single time, week duration, even months in a few cases) within those three big relationships. Only one of the three do I regret messing up.

Having matured some, I can recognize I’m better off not in a relationship. So far I’ve been good at avoiding getting into a new one for the last 11 months but I know it’ll be easy to slip into old patterns when I reach a lull in life. It’s also exciting to juggle more than one person at a time. I tried an open relationship once, but that gutted a lot of the enjoyment of it. Kind of rambling so

Tldr: manipulative asshole with habitual cheating tendencies 10/10 would do again. Felt bad once, still haunts me 0/10.

23. I was feeling neglected and angry with my boyfriend of three years.

I cheated once, and will probably never do it again. I was feeling neglected and angry with my boyfriend of three years, so I went out and had a fling with some guy I met online to feel empowered instead of doing the decent thing and breaking up. I still cared about him and wanted to make it work but was too scared of being alone.

I felt bad about it for a while, but four months later we did break up, and it came out that he had been cheating on me for the last eight months of the relationship. She thought she was his girlfriend and confronted me, not knowing that I had the prior claim to that title. She dumped him for a week and then took him back.

24. I wasn’t getting his attention because he just discovered and spent his whole time on that.

I cheated on my partner after being with him for a year. I think I did it because I wasn’t getting his attention because he just discovered and spent his whole time on that. Me and this other guy just flirted through texts and msn but then we ended up having sex after 6 months of talking I would texted him when my partner had left my house and mum was out. I regretted it and only happened the once and I cut off contact with the guy a few days later. My partner knew something was going on but denied it all. The guy knew nothing could be said but yet he told his ex who lived 8 hours away and she looked me and my partner up on MySpace and told him everything… it turned out the guy had made a bunch of BS up about us which worked well in my favor because I got to deny it all. I hated myself for what I did I still do. It was a stupid reason to cheat on the guy who I love and who I now have a beautiful child with. I know in the back of his mind he knows what I did. But he got me back kind of by flirting with so many girls but never going to far well that’s what he says but how do I know look at what I did and covered up but we were kids then now we are adults with a child, a house and a wedding coming up. It was 9 years ago now but I think about it and question myself what if this blows up in face. Sometimes I blame my partner sometimes I blame my mum and sister who both cheated. But all I have is to blame myself and my stupid teenage actions. I hope one day I can him what I did that I hated every moment of it but he would never forgive me. I know I could never forgive or forget if he did it to me.

Wow I feel better after bottling it up all time. Thanks.

25. I wasn’t physically attracted to him and I didn’t think that mattered, but in the end, surprise! It does matter.

I cheated on my ex for a lot of reasons. We were engaged and things moved really quickly. I wasn’t physically attracted to him and I didn’t think that mattered, but in the end, surprise! It does matter. My ex drank a lot and refused to help around the house. He was constantly talking to his ex-girlfriend. He never cared about me. We moved to a town that I completely and utterly hated. It just became a prison. I was unhappy all the time. Then I met someone at work who gave a shit. Or seemed to, anyway. I only technically cheated once. Then I felt so bad that I ended things.

26. I have poor self-control and a lack of respect for his feelings and I’m a coward.

Why did I cheat? I have poor self-control and a lack of respect for his feelings and I’m a coward.

The long version is that we’d known each other for years through an online game, I was 16 and attention starved, quite an ugly duckling. He was funny, he made me laugh and I liked him.

We start dating, but it’s long distance. Through the years we only saw each other twice. The first visit was at my place; I wasn’t a social butterfly but I did like to go out and do things. Go to the occasional bar. Go for a picnic. He had anxiety and didn’t want to do much. Whenever I asked it was “I don’t know” with a lot of reluctance. So we stayed inside all summer playing games.

Sex was near impossible, I think it was his anxiety medication but he had a lot of trouble maintaining an erection. I was immature and not very understanding, I took it as an insult against myself.

The second visit was at his and it was just more of the same. I was in university at this point and studying, he was four years older than my 18 and had never had a single job. His life consisted solely of playing video games all day into the am, repeat. No license, no job, no drive.

His personality was a reflection of the limited media he consumed. Everything just went stagnant.

Months passed and I stopped making the effort to talk, he never initiated a conversation, always had an excuse for not even trying to look for a job. I was bored.

But I didn’t do him the courtesy of telling him this and breaking it off. I just cheated and waited till he found out. I couldn’t even bring myself to regret it, I still don’t.

27. I used cheating as an excuse to get out of a relationship instead of just dumping them.

I’ve cheated during five of my seven long- term relationships.

It wasn’t right but I used cheating as an excuse to get out of a relationship instead of just dumping them. I’d cheat, tell them immediately, and then I could just disappear from their lives with little confrontation. Why fight to keep a cheater around?

It was always with this girl I had loved since I came out as a lesbian in grade nine and I couldn’t let her go. This summer while I was single, I made out with her at a party and for the first time in almost 8 years I felt absolutely nothing for her. I’m in a relationship now with someone who treats me way better than she ever did and hopefully I’ve grown up enough that I can talk about relationship issues with my partner instead of just falling into bed with a long-time ex.

28. My ex-husband was a lazy guy who cared more about games and comics than me, the dog, paying bills, etc.

My ex-husband was a lazy guy who cared more about games and comics than me, the dog, paying bills, etc. On top of that, I am an extremely monogamous person, yet he told me I could have sex with another girl (bisexual here) and I could pretend to be a couple with a male friend for cosplay, including kissing.

5 years later I met a man who I could not stay away from. From the moment I met him I was in love, and realized I hadn’t been in love with my husband for years, we just existed in the same space. I became friends with the other guy over a half year period until one night I cheated. The next day I left my ex and have been married to the guy I cheated with for 7 years. I am extremely insecure and while I regret the way I ended my marriage, I would not have left otherwise. I still feel like I just met my SO and love him more every day. I no longer feel bad about it.

29. Because somebody else was also appealing.

Because somebody else was also appealing. There are different things that I was attracted in people, but only with age/ learning about myself/ choosing/ being with a great person I understood that there will always be some small thing I’m attracted to in someone, but I have this great guy at home that satisfies me with sex better than I could have imagined. So now I realized that I was very sexually curious and was looking for different people to satisfy it in different ways. Now, I can just tell my partner that I have this crazy idea or scenario, and I want to try it, and he is totally cool with everything. Communication is the key. I’m open to his offers as well.

30. I simply was bored with them and loved the attention of other guys.

Until my current relationship, I cheated on pretty much every guy I ever dated. I simply was bored with them and loved the attention of other guys. I had a serious problem with being alone. I would have rather been with someone, even if I didn’t like them at all, than be alone. There was only one other guy that I ever dated that I adored. Never cheated on him. He was a total shit bag who cheated on me very frequently so I got everything I deserved for what I did to others. Then, when I met my SO, everything changed. He made me want to be better as a person. I was never bored, I felt loved and just completely content. I can’t even pinpoint what changed. I just know that I have never felt a desire to cheat on him. I’ve never looked back. I was just a piece of shit, attention hungry cheater. No real reason. I was just awful.

31. The thrills, the suspense, but mostly bored and the exciting feeling of conquest.

Why? The thrills, the suspense, but mostly bored and the exciting feeling of conquest.

32. Since he had such little faith in me, I did it anyways.

He told me, I know you’re going to cheat on me. I just know it. Even though I had NEVER done anything to make him think I was. So since he had such little faith in me, I did it anyways.

33. I might lack some basic emotions.

I’ve cheated on all of my girlfriends with multiple girls. Excuse? None really, I enjoy the hunt and succeeding, the sex part is pretty cool too.

I never feel bad, either. I might lack some basic emotions.

34. Some of it is about rebellion, unable to accept love, want validation blah blah blah.

I’ve cheated on probably everyone. I have issues, naturally, some of it is about rebellion, unable to accept love, want validation blah blah blah. But getting caught up in the moment is a thing, often I’m so in the here and now that really nothing else exists.

35. I have antisocial tendencies, which is why I pick up, use, and drop women so easily.

I have cheated on multiple partners in the past without care. Its almost as if when a girl gives me a bit of attention I feel I need to see how far I can go with her, even if I have no feelings or genuine intention of being faithful. This has led to me picking up multiple partners at once, convincing them all that we are soul mates, promising them everything they’ve ever wanted, then manipulating and using them for various things. I realized when I was very young that I do not feel guilt for my actions unless I know there is a strong possibility I could get caught. Even then, its not really even guilt, its just kinda anxiety about getting caught. I have looked into things like Antisocial Personality Disorder, Conduct Disorder, and have read up on Psychopathy & Sociopathy because I feel like am able to relate to those disorders with my thoughts and feelings. I have never been diagnosed with anything but I, as well as some close family have suspected I have antisocial tendencies, which is why I pick up, use, and drop women so easily. It would make sense, because ever since I started dating it just felt natural to hide the real me in relationships, and put on a front of a perfect lover in an attempt to get as much out of the partner as possible.

36. It honestly scares me that I’ll just never be faithful.

I’ve cheated on pretty much every girlfriend I’ve had other than my first adult relationship. I have no clue why I do it. It isn’t some power thing, or control, or just a want for something new, I just do it. I’m always on Instagram or some other site where I see nothing but pictures of women all day and I slowly start liking all their pics, they’ll like mine, then starts the DMing, and eventually turns into, Oh let’s just chill and smoke, and then the rest is history. I don’t enjoy doing it, and since my most recent breakup (due to cheating) I’ve been trying to avoid relationships for this reason. I really hope it’s just a phase or something because it honestly scares me that I’ll just never be faithful. So I guess I never answered your question because I don’t really know. It just happens.

37. I’m afraid that she’ll do it first.

I’m afraid that she’ll do it first. So I do it as a sort of insurance that if something goes wrong or she lets me down, I can always be like, Yeah but I didn’t care anyway. But I do, meh.

38. Why should I stop having sex with new people just because I have a girlfriend?

Because why should I stop having sex with new people just because I have a girlfriend? I would say 60-70% of the guys I know have cheated. I strongly believe the other 15-20% would if they could pull it off. I also know a lot of women who have cheated multiple times on their boyfriends but not nearly as many as the men.

39. The relationship was dead in the water.

I cheated once when I was 19. We’d been dating for almost a year. It got very serious very quickly. He wanted to talk about kids and marriage, where we would live after graduation. We fought about this quite a lot because I felt we were too young and too far away from those things to talk about them. He’d picked out names and wedding venues. He was very introverted, I’m very extroverted. Over time we just stopped going places or talking about anything besides TV shows to watch that night. The relationship was dead in the water, but he was such a sweet guy and he worshiped me. I couldn’t quite pull away because there was nothing really wrong. I’d been in a miserably abusive relationship prior to this so in my mind if he wasn’t hitting me or screaming at me, the relationship was great and I needed to buck up and deal.

I spent the summer traveling around and interning for an NGO, and then one day while laughing and talking with friends over breakfast, it hit me: I was feeling happy. And I had not felt this happy in a long time. This weird glow-y, free feeling was because for the first time in months I was actually enjoying my life.

I kind of glossed over the realization. I had a loving boyfriend back at home who was ready to put a ring on it and call it a day at a moments notice. I decided I just needed to see him again and I’d feel better. We’d work it out and go on.

Then to celebrate at the end of our trip we went dancingand rum happened. And not a little rum. The quantity of rum that makes you beg for the sweet embrace of death the next day. A guy on our trip and I started dancing and one thing led to another. We didn’t have sex, thankfully. But we were making out pretty hot and heavy for a while. The next day I knew that I’d crossed a line and I felt awful. But I also felt all this clarity. Not only did that relationship need to end, I didn’t even feel sad that it was ending. I didn’t love him anymore. We were never going to work out and I’d let it go on too long as it was.

So when I got back to town, I went to his house and explained all that to him in person. Not the cheating, but what led to it. He wanted to jump behind that white picket fence so badly and keep me as close to home as possible, and unfortunately it took me doing something I said I’d never do to realize how much I resented that plan.

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from 39 Cheaters Confess Why They Did It